"I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that- to that-"
She almost feels bad for him.
She almost believes the tears gathering in his eyes, almost believes the stutter in his speech, the glaze that comes over the blue of his eyes, like fog rolling in over the sea. And she almost believes when they clear and turn at her, desperation framed perfectly, in a practiced, rehearsed way that she has to force herself to believe is false. She almost believes. She's afraid of how close she is to it. She's afraid of his practiced ways and all the control they have over her. She's afraid of his fake smile and his true intentions. She's afraid of his pressed shirt and the curl in his hair. She's afraid of his- his- she's afraid of him. The gleam of his eyes, the white of his teeth. The words from his mouth, stolen from a thesaurus or people much higher than him. The fear in Alphard's eyes whenever his name comes up, the way he grips her hand tighter, without meaning to, whenever he walks into the room, and she knows it's not for her sake.
"Alphard asked me to stay with him."
And his eyes are on her in an instant. She's tempted to fall into silence or say far too much, his gaze pushing her on like a wave, but she resists, she stands strong and rides it out.
"For the break only, of course, to get to know his family and spend time with him and whatever else is expected of people about to be married."
And she smiles, without really thinking about it or meaning to, with only the thought of Alphard's smile as she runs her hands through his dark, soft hair filling her mind. With only the thought of his jokes, with the thought of his wit, of his aid, of his love, of hers. And she smiles, without really meaning to. And it's soft and it feels nice to be happy, if only for just a second, before bringing herself back to reality, back to Tom.
"And I don't particularly like his sister."
Tom snorts and she smiles, wide and true.
"I assume you've noticed."
His short burst of joy fades into a small smile and he gestures for her to continue.
"As such remains true, and as Alphard is often busy, what with being in line to take over his father's position, and as I would very much rather not spend time with his sister or his mother or any member of his family, to be perfectly honest," And she pauses, knowing that she doesn't want to do this, picturing the heartbreaking crestfallen look that would take over Alphard's face when she gave him the news, that this man, this boy that they were working to destroy, would be staying with them in a time that they were meant to enjoy each other's company, to take a step back.
She looks away from the skyline, from where the Great Lake meets the clouds and where the setting sun pulls it all together, to the deep blue of his eyes, deeper than even the place in her heart where she stores her feelings for him.
"So, taking all these things into account, I was wondering if you might want to stay with me- us- at the mansion."
His eyes widen, his hands, perpetually clenched, release, just a bit, his lips part, an almost imperceptible amount, just a hint of surprise, all he would allow himself to show before his immaculate control took over once again.
"Only so you wouldn't have to go back to the orphanage. It sounds like a dreadful place and- well, you deserve much more."
He doesn't smile then, he doesn't even look at her. He looks down, at his hands, at his lap, at his thigh brushing hers, at the low light still reaching them from the setting sun, them so high up in the castle, their legs dangling out the side of its stone walls.
She wishes she were dead. If only not to have to spend another second with him, another second forcing herself not to feel, another second yelling at herself that he is evil, cruel, not to be trusted. Another second reminding herself of all the bad he has done and does and will do, if only to avoid holding his hand, touching his cheek, claiming his lips, taking his heart.
He looks at her then, forces himself to smile pleasantly, a true smile too much for either of them to bear, and nods.
"I would be honored."
And she forces herself to smile back.
"I can't."
And the room is still for a moment. Globes halting, portraits pausing, wind ceasing.
"It's too much. I- I can't. I can't do this."
"Ms. Granger-"
"James, I use James in this time," And she says it without looking at the professor, her eyes a frenzy around the room, trying to take in everything and anything to avoid letting anything and everything out.
"Yes, of course."
And a pause. Maybe he is waiting for her to reply, but she has no words to say, her mind too full to let anything escape, the ideas bouncing around in her head so quickly that she can't run fast enough to catch any to throw out to Dumbledore.
Perhaps realizing that she is not going to speak or that what she says will not particularly matter or do much of anything to change his argument, Dumbledore continues with his words which pain Hermione so.
"Ms. James, it is very important that you continue this mission."
Her eyes meet his and they are no less worried, her mind no less frenzied, even as his eyes gleam and he offers a gentle smile, a lemon drop, no comfort comes.
"I know it is a lot of pressure. You have not had a second to relax, coming straight from a war, not a moment in between. Your mind has not stopped working since you learned of your magic and I am sure it must be extremely tiring, however-"
And the dreaded halt to his progress, the dreaded switch in direction.
"Ms. James, Hermione, you must continue."
His eyes earnest, the lemon drop that she must eventually accept is old, the outside of it mushy and caramel-like. It does nothing to make her feel better.
"It is the only way for the wizarding world to survive, the fate of it all rests on your shoulders."
That is enough to worry her, to make her breathing come in faster, to make her heart stop for a second and then start again, much too quickly this time.
"And, because you have made it so, on the shoulders of Mr. Black. Stopping now would mean the weight would crush you both, along with any hope of victory."
Of course.
Of course Alphard had to be brought into this. His life would be ruined, his very essence destroyed, all because of her. All because he cared about her and agreed to help. All because he was a good person and she was a terrible, awful human being. And she can't let Alphard be destroyed, not for her, not for him. He is only a part of this because of her and she'll be damned if she lets him die because of it.
She bows her head, her nails dig into the palms of her hands so hard, she fears blood might sprout from the crescent-shaped indentations.
"Think of your friends, Ms. James."
She takes a deep breath. And another. And another. But it still feels as if no amount of air in the world could save her.
"You must stop his rise to power. You must continue to get close to him. You must be the force that changes him."
She looks up at Professor Dumbledore, tears crowding her eyes, her lip trembling when she opens her mouth to speak, her hard swallow when she closes her mouth again, and nods. Not because she feels any motivation to do this, not because she wants to, not because of anything other than duty. Giving up would be as if she were the one pulling the fated green spell from the tip of Voldemort's wand like a muggle magician pulling handkerchiefs out of his sleeve. A cheap trick that takes far too little effort but affects the audience, nevertheless.
"I'm glad you've come to see reason, Ms. James. Your role in this is vital for the survival of the wizarding world."
"What?"
"It would only be for the break, Alph-"
"No."
"What?"
"No, I do not want him staying in my home."
She stops for a second, her mind reeling. He never says no. He was always willing to do whatever she thought was best. But, almost immediately afterwards, she is back at talking.
"Why not?"
Her voice angry, her breath catching.
"Because it is my home and I do not want him here."
She struggles for words, her mouth opening and closing a few times with only sputtered sounds coming out.
"B-but-"
"It is my home, Hermione. Do you have any idea how rude it is to invite someone to the home of another person?"
Her eyes are furious, her hands clenched, her chest rising and falling quickly as she struggles not to yell.
He sighs.
"Hermione."
And she does not look at him.
"Hermione?"
How can they possibly stop him if Alphard won't even let her spend time with him? How can they stop him? How can they save the wizarding world? How can she save her friends? How can she validate all of Harry's pain? Ron's? Mrs. Weasley's? George's? Hers?
"Hermione, look at me, please."
And her anger meets his calm. Her sandstorm meets his breeze. Her fury meets his reason.
"I- I know we need to stop him, I know. We've spoken of little else since you told me the truth, but-"
And he takes a breath. And another. And another.
"I just- I'm afraid, Hermione. Every time I walk down a corridor, every time I think of you, every day that I lay in my bed, trying to sleep, all I can see is him. He is in every one of my thoughts, he fills my days and I'm scared. I am so scared that you will die, or that I will, or just about anyone I've ever cared about, because he is always there. I know I am safe in my home and, Hermione, please, I want to feel safe in my home. Grant me this one thing, this one place where I can still feel okay."
And she hesitates, of course she hesitates.
And he grins, wide and lopsided.
"Besides, between the twenty bedrooms and four dens, where would we ever find space for him?"
And she laughs, light and quiet.
And he doesn't care about the fear that Tom inspires in him. He doesn't care about the dread that fills his heart and mind at the sight of him, he doesn't care about how hard it is to breath like a normal person when he's around, or how often and how tightly he's had to grip his arm or his leg or whatever else to avoid hexing him or running away or both. No, he cares about how he makes Hermione feel. About how uncomfortable she is around him, how her eyes constantly shift towards the door whenever he's around, how her hands tremble and her breaths leaves her unsteadily and shakily.
The break is for them to be happy, to relax, to pretend that they don't have to deal with this, not right now because, besides the fact that they are engaged, that they are due to graduate soon, that the fate of the wizarding world and all that is good rests on their shoulders, they are only kids. They are young and afraid and it is all far too much to handle.