Evaluate This
Chapter 1
Cousins, Oh Boy!
Disclaimer: I do not own HP Inc.
Ron rushed out into the street. Grateful to be out of there, he scowled at yet another heap of books in his arms.
Behind him, Harry and Hermione were, well…Hermione had been with them. Ron glanced up and down the crowded street. Had she gone in with them? He couldn't remember but he'd be damned if he'd go back into Flourish and Blots, even if she was his friend. That place would be the death of him—that, he was sure of.
"Where'd Hermione go off to?" Ron asked his remaining friend.
Harry shrugged, shifting uncomfortably the weight in his arms. His hair was longer, darker and thicker than it had been the year before. The length was due mainly to the reason that no one bugged him about its appearance anymore. The Weasley's didn't care much about his wayward hair—so unlike that of the Dursley's—and Harry was more than happy to leave his hair to its own accord.
"I think she mentioned something about having to get more ink."
"No, no," Ron scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. "We've gone to get ink twice this week already. As it is she has enough ink to pen Hogwarts, A History a dozen times."
Harry grinned, his green eyes dancing with humor. "You're right."
Ron shrugged, shaking his head so that his hair could help take a bit of the glare away from his eyes. However, the strands of red hair did not dim the harsh light. "Bloody hot out here." He commented, tugging his baggy shirt way from his body.
"Ron!" Both boys turned around at the unfamiliar voice. Ron frowned slightly as he eyed the over-crowded street.
"That didn't sound like Hermione? Did it?"
"No, it wasn't." Green eyes surveyed the throng of people—Hermione wasn't among them. But a tourist group wearing 'Harry Potter's # 1 Fan' t-shirts were, and happened to be hurrying across the street. An unconscious frown appeared on Harry's face as he ducked behind Ron.
It was at times like this that Harry was glad that his scar was hidden by his overgrown hair. He was even more grateful that the Daily Prophet had yet to get a good photo of him recently—had they succeeded, Harry was sure that the group of Potter loving fanatics would have trampled him into the street trying to get at him.
It was almost sickening, Harry thought as he watched the Potter fan group disappear into a store. These people didn't know him; they didn't try to get to know him. They judged him, nothing more—just a bunch of busy bodies who were minding his business.
Seeing the last of the fan group leave Ron took a deep breath. "It's too bloody hot out here, want to go?" Ron glanced at Harry.
Nodding, Harry glanced around once more for any sign of Hermione.
"Ah, let her go. She knows where we be if she wants to come 'round." Ron massaged his sore neck. "Have you noticed how often she just up and vanishes on us? I wonder if McGonagal took that time turner away from her."
Harry smiled. "Hermione wouldn't use it—it would be morally wrong or something." He glanced behind him as he made up his mind. "Lets go."
He started after Ron, not noticing the running figure and consequently collided with it. Harry plummeted face first into the coble stones, his books betraying gravity—for a second—before plummeting back to earth to hit the boy who lived on the head. "Bloody hell!" Harry's hands wrapped protectively around his head as the vengeful textbooks assaulted him.
"Oh my gosh!" Harry felt the slight brush of soft skin against his own. "Oh I'm so sorry. Here, oh jeez, I am sorry. Here." Dazed Harry watched the small girl rush about gathering his school supplies. "I am so sorry." She sighed, breathless, handing him his books back.
Rubbing the knot that was forming on the back of his head, Harry pushed himself to his feet. He eyed the books, just waiting for them to try that again, but they remained innocently still in the girls outstretched hands.
"Er, that's okay. No problem." Harry clumsily grabbed for his books—cursing his suddenly useless tongue.
Giving him a nervous grin the girl made sure he had a firm grip on them before she pulled away. She gave him another sheepish grin then set her hands comfortably on her hips. Harry noticed the way she looked at ease yet…he recognized the look, somewhere deep down he knew it was how he looked sometimes—ready to dart, ready to run.
Intrigued, he went back to her face. Her eyes were dark forest green edged in lime.
Weird, Harry thought, but it wasn't her eyes, it was her hair. Very weird. Her hair wasn't really one color, his brow wrinkled in thought. It couldn't possibly be natural, he decided, a person's hair could not be burgundy, ebony, honey, violet, and pale wheat all at once. She had skin a lively shade of ivory dusted gold and her lips…Harry shook his head stopping his evaluation of the girl right there and then. What the hell was he thinking?
"Miriam?" Ron's eyes grew round as he noticed the girl who held Harry's gaze.
"Oh Ron! It's been so long." Miriam broke eye contact with the dark haired boy and flung her arms around Ron, a brief hug. "My, you've grown little cousin!"
Ron blushed and stepped back, "I could say the same for you."
The smiling that went on seemed to last forever. Harry groaned. "Earth to Ron and Ron's cousin." Harry tapped his finger against his watch.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Oh impatient one, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Miriam DeLunic," Harry nodded. "Miriam, this is my best mate, Harry."
"Harry. That's a nice name. And I really am truly sorry for…bowling you over." Her smile was apologetic. "I'm a bit of a klutz. A hazard to all life." But her eyes did not hold true to her words…though Harry got the feeling that her being a hazard to life was all too true.
Wondering why his brain had decided to go on vacation, Harry could only nod.
Ron smirked. "Miriam is an American."
"You say it like it's a curse." Miriam eyed Ron coldly.
Blanching Ron's eye twitched nervously. "Er..."
Miriam laughed then, "Got you. You were always too easy." But the cold sheen of ice over her eyes did not leave even though her face was lit with merry amusement.
Ron grinned through his nerves. "What brings you to Britain, Mira?"
Linking arms with him, they began to walk. "Ugh. No one calls me Mira anymore Ronald."
"And no one but Hermione calls me Ronald."
They grinned at each other and Harry felt like the third wheel as he followed, picking up Ron's abandoned school supplies as well. He'd hex his friend later. Right now, it seemed, it was time for family catch-up.
"I was going to just show up here, unannounced, for summer…then…" Miriam's eyes darkened again. "Mom and Dad, they aren't doing so great." The buzzing heat of the air seemed to chill and Harry felt goosebumps on his arms. "So, I figured if they were going to send me away I'd just stay with my favorite cousins."
"Then you're going back to the states at the beginning of term?" Harry asked, causing the two to turn around suddenly—Harry got the feeling they'd forgotten he was there at all. Miriam waved her hand, dismissing the notion.
"I had an owl sent to Adamark and had them transfer me to Hogwarts. I have to go through the, um, what is it called…" she paused, pensive. "Sorting, that's it. We didn't do such a thing at Adamark. It is all so different. I love it."
Her grin was contagious, but Harry had couldn't stop the nagging feeling that she wasn't…wasn't…something. There was something dark about her and he couldn't help but notice Ron's expression, which bordered on the edge of worry.
"Well would you look at the time? I have to be going. It was so good to see you Ron! I can't wait for this year to begin. It is going to be wonderful. It was nice to meet you Harry." Miriam quickly hugged Ron, and with a whirl was gone before either could react.
"Are you okay Ron?"
"Aye, um…food. I need food." Ron stammered.
"Well if you're in no mortal peril, take these before I dump them in the gutter." They exchanged books before taking off in the direction of the Inn they were staying at.
He couldn't help the quick backwards glance as they left, but Ron's cousin was no longer around. Harry shook his head, confused. It had been an almost normal meeting and the following conversation hadn't been all that strange on his scale…then why did he feel like something was dreadfully wrong?
Hermione's elbows were propped up on the table and she continued to glower. "What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked tersely.
Across from Hermione, Charlotte sat with her legs crossed and her head held high. She tossed her long golden hair and glowered back at Hermione with menace.
"I think you know right well what I mean. I didn't come here on some vacation, I came here for you-know-what and you…" she lowered her voice. "You aren't going to be able to run off so easily this time. You know it, I know it, if you'd just accept it…" Her voice trailed off into a hiss as the bartender came to their table.
"Can I get you ladies a drink?"
"No, but you can bugger off." Charlotte whispered, her voice a hazard to all mortals.
The man did just that—obviously valuing his life.
"That," Hermione said stiffly, "was completely uncalled for."
"Say what you will, but I do not put up with crap…from anybody."
Icily Hermione looked away. "Present company included I presume."
"Of course…cousin." The smile gracing Charlotte's lips was anything but pleasant. It made Hermione's skin crawl and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Making people squirm put Charlotte in a jovial mood. Lifting a small object from the confines of her purse she placed it into Hermione's open palm. "I know how you feel, damn it, I felt it too. But, I am here for you this time. You won't be alone."
Hermione clutched the object, her fist closing with anger. "Like that is any improvement. You know, I didn't ask for this. You and…"
"Don't curse family, Hermione." Charlotte warned softly.
Hermione bowed her head and watched through her lashes as Charlotte stood and left the table. She waited for the dull thud of the door before she pulled her hand towards her. Hermione unfolded the pitch-black silk and stared at the pendent that connected her to her cousin—Charlotte.
She knew she was scowling, but she didn't care. Charlotte managed to wipe every happy thought from her mind and replace it with the quiet anger she'd been trying to hide.
"Why me?" Hermione whispered to no one. Her booth was empty now and she preferred it this way.
She could still remember the shock she'd received when she'd spotted the cold blonde through the storefront window in Flourish and Blots. Hermione had been hell bent on ignoring her and had even decided that she'd imagined the whole thing—that was, until she'd been roughly jerked away from her friends. It's hard to believe something to be a figment of the imagination when you're being physically dragged.
She'd come to terms with the fact that Charlotte was here quickly—however…Hermione glared at the pendant in her hand. She wouldn't be coming to terms with that anytime soon.
And Charlotte wouldn't be leaving until she did.
It was a lose lose situation.
Hermione sighed; she'd figure something out. Something.
Miriam settled back into the small room she'd booked. She could have stayed with her cousins…but she preferred it this way. Her eyes surveyed the room. The pale wallpaper reminded her of better days, the faded carpet of past lives, the dim lights of a time she'd tried very hard to forget.
Families fall apart for many reasons.
Sometimes it's a mutual separation, usual involving no children, just the want of freedom. Sometimes it's something stupid—cheating.
And sometimes…sometimes it was loss.
Miriam shut her eyes, blocking out the room, and curled under the sheets of the bed. She knew the box was in the second drawer of the dresser, locked with magic and key. She wanted so desperately to walk over there, to open the drawer, to take out the box. She'd just let the memories fold over her, take her over.
All's she had to do was get up, walk over, and ask for forgiveness.
From herself.
Miriam didn't move, instead she rolled into a tight ball and waited for the dreamless sleep that she knew would come.
And she knew it would be dreamless.
She'd made sure of that.
As she began to fade into the darkness she saw the shy smile of a raven-haired boy…
Cursing the stubbornness that obviously ran in the family, Charlotte settled herself outside the diner. How could anyone be so dense when it was rumored they were so smart?
Charlotte eyed the idiots hurrying up and down the street. Was there really any point to any of it?
She caught site of the boy as he wandered aimlessly down the road. Stupid git, Charlotte thought even as she eyed him. His hair was white blond and…where had she heard about someone just like him?
He came closer and Charlotte could feel his nasty mood boiling off of him. She frowned when his eyes met hers. They were gray…blue gray.
Charlotte didn't like the smirk that formed on his face. No doubt he thought he swooned every girl under forty that came his way and…Charlotte observed the stupid twits that were practically falling over themselves as he passed…he was right.
But that wasn't going to be her. He gave her a charming smile as he went by and Charlotte gave him the finger, a smile lighting her face at his confused jolt.
Yeah, muse on that…she thought as he disappeared into the diner.
Hermione turned the pendent over and over in her hand, running her fingers over the engravings. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the slight tremble in her hands. Hermione Granger did not tremble because of some stupid…curse.
"No." she whispered. Standing, she shook her hair out of her face. She wasn't going to have any of this. For once, her heart and her head were in complete agreement. Charlotte could deal with the family curse all by her dear little self. Merlin knew she had attitude enough for two people. Satisfied with her decision Hermione smirked.
And that was all it took for Draco Malfoy to stop dead in his tracks. It took another two seconds for him to realize who it was he was ogling—Granger, the famous mudblood. What was with the females today? First he encountered the less than pleasant witch outside this establishment and then he ran into a deranged looking Granger. Draco pondered it for a few more moments before dismissing it altogether. He really did not care one way or another. And as far as he was concerned, the expression on Granger's face was an improvement.
Though…Draco took another look despite himself and retracted his previous statement. Self- righteous did not suit Granger, he decided. It made her look demonic more than anything…do I look like that? Draco made a mental note to check next time he was in front of a mirror.
"What are you staring at Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a voice so distant from her normal one. Charlotte really did manage to put her in a foul mood. A very foul mood, Hermione realized as she unconsciously took a challenging step forward.
First reaction when being approached by a mudblood—back away slowly. Second reaction—sneer. Third—was to definitely not wonder what scent she wore. But that was exactly what was floating through the stunned Malfoy's mind as Granger confronted him. He didn't think she'd done anything as rash since she'd punched him their third year. And because of that he had to check his impulse to back up and out of harms way.
Again his muddled mind returned to what she smelled like…odd how things like this happen. It wasn't like anything he'd smelled before, and it didn't try to strangle him like that of one Pansy Parkinson.
Damn mudblood, of course his present thoughts were her fault. Draco took control of his flyaway brain. And about time too, a small voice said in the back of his mind. Granger looked ready to charge.
"Take your anger elsewhere Granger." Draco growled and took a side step to avoid her, sitting down at a table.
Hermione stood stunned and if she'd been in a rational mood she would have left—immediately—however…Merlin forgive her, she was looking for a fight, and how nice of Malfoy to offer.
"Now the infamous Malfoy plays civil. Does it hurt?"
Draco looked up at the heated Gryffindor in confusion. "What is your problem Granger?"
But Hermione ignored him, content to continue the long time coming rant. "Way to go Malfoy, I wonder, did you take acting classes over the summer? Or did you grow up? Or my personal favorite, actually find your humanity?"
Rolling his eyes, Draco tapped his fingers impatiently along the table. "Done yet?"
Now Hermione was seething. "No! I'm not done yet. You are a pathetic, horrid, ugly, disgusting…"
Steel gray eyes, cold and hard, bore into hers cutting off the insult. "Do you want to fight?" His voice was chocolate smooth, a hint of venom.
She paused, she knew better. "Yes." She whispered.
Damn it, Hermione thought. "Charlotte." She murmured as she thought of all the colorful ways she could curse her as Malfoy rose from his chair and turned. Hermione watched him walk to a door near the back and hold it open for her—a smirk playing on his face.
"You know, Granger, I took you to be smarter than this." Draco drawled as he closed the door behind her.
"And you believe I have made a mistake, Malfoy?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
Draco looked thoughtful for a second before he nodded. "Indeed I do." He whispered, coming closer. "Granger." He hissed into her ear.
Hermione's rage flared. What had she gotten herself into? "You, ferret? You think too highly of yourself." And without another thought she swung at him, her fist wishing to crush that Roman nose into his face. She wanted blood.
Draco caught her hand, his strong fingers wrapping around her slender wrist. With his other hand, he drew her closer. "I could break your wrist, right now, with just. One. Twist." He twisted ever so slightly and saw the fire drain from her eyes as reason and pain reached the still functioning part of her brain.
"But, I won't." Hermione paled as he placed a hand on her back. "Yet." Draco whispered into her ear.
Trembling, Hermione tugged at her hand, but he held it fast. "I hate you." She whispered. "You are disgusting."
Draco smirked in her face. "Ah, you hurt my feelings, mudblood, now you're going to have to apologize." Hermione brought her free hand to hit him, but unfortunately he caught it.
"Don't." he whispered. "Try that again. Or I will hurt you." With that he brought his lips to hers. It was soft and sweet—the cruelest of all tortures.
Hermione shuddered. Malfoy had kissed her, he was a Slytherin, and… she was brought back to earth with the realization that she still had the pendant clasped tightly in her hand. Oh Merlin! If he saw it…Hermione banished the thought. That couldn't happen. That wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let him. The only problem with that was that the pendent was clamped tightly in her hand—the hand that Malfoy had complete control over.
She'd thought that her heart rate had spiked with the kiss, now it threatened to send her into a panic attack. She closed her eyes and bit her lip unconsciously—hoping for the best. You really are stupid; she thought…all you had to do was walk away. Walk away.
The door opened. Malfoy looked up in annoyance.
"Hermione, I…" Charlotte stopped and stared—that was about all she could do. It's not every day you walk in on your prim cousin in the arms of a man, a boy rather—a certain blond haired boy. Charlotte remembered him from the street, the one who she'd flicked off. A smile wanted to tug at her lips as she saw that he recognized her as well.
Draco couldn't believe his damn luck. He'd gotten Granger alone in a room—given, he hadn't meant to kiss her, but…
"And just who might you be?" Charlotte demanded as she closed the door behind her and took several steps toward the two.
Draco slowly loosened his grip on Hermione, but kept his hold on her wrist tight. "And just what business is my name of yours? You were not invited in here."
Charlotte didn't move. She only stared at the insolent boy, finally letting her eyes drift to Hermione. Damn. "I don't particularly care about you, little boy." Draco's eyes narrowed. "But, I do care about my cousin, who you have no business touching."
"Cousins, eh?" Draco sneered. No wonder, they both had personalities of a cactus. The fiery blond had basically told him to fuck himself for no reason and Granger had attacked him for no reason—definitely family resemblance there. But in appearance, Draco gave the cousin a once over. There were absolutely no resemblances in that category.
"Malfoy let go." Hermione whispered softly as she took a deep breath trying to keep herself and her voice from trembling.
"Not right now Granger, I'll deal with you in a moment." First he had to get the blonde nuisance to leave. He wasn't sure what he wanted with Granger, but right now, he knew he didn't want her cousin here.
"You could do us both a favor and leave." Draco stated simply. If she were smart, she'd do so.
Charlotte could see she wouldn't get anywhere with the thickheaded boy. "Hermione, who is this?"
"Malfoy." Hermione replied, gritting her teeth.
"And does this Malfoy have any reason to be holding you?"
"No." Now she glowered at Charlotte. "Damn it, Malfoy, if you don't let go, I am going to curse you or have Charlotte do it for me."
That was when Charlotte noticed the slight fear in her cousin's eyes. Oh how dandy, she thought, Hermione's gone and gotten herself in trouble—besides the trouble of being in a room with a guy she wouldn't trust with a ten foot broomstick. She glanced back at the blond boy then at Hermione.
"Malfoy," Charlotte tossed her hair. "Unless you wish to have your testicles fall off, I think you had better let go." She grinned as he paled and let go as ordered.
It wouldn't have mattered even if he hadn't. Charlotte was quite sure, that if this blond haired boy had seen what was in Hermione's hand, a testicle falling off would be the least of his worries.
Hermione stuffed her hand into her pocket and withdrew it, empty.
Crisis passed, Charlotte thought. "I had something to say, maybe it was an apology, but, I'd say, it is no longer needed." She stood straighter and turned to leave, looking over her shoulder. "I will see you at school cousin."
"I hate you." Hermione whispered. Knowing exactly what had happened.
Charlotte turned, her eyes glowing. "I hate you too. I shall be seeing you." With that, she left, letting the door close deafeningly behind her.
Draco smiled broadly. "Well in that case. I hate you three." He reached forward gripping Hermione lightly—unsure if he was doing this for himself or to piss her off—and placed a farewell kiss on her lips. "You had better get used to me Granger. I'm going to be closer than you think this year."
Hermione stepped back as he left her alone, she ran her tongue over her lips, was it her imagination or did she taste vanilla?
"Hey! Where'd you disappear to?" Ron asked as he stuffed a large fork full of potpie into his mouth.
Hermione tried not to groan. "Eat with your mouth closed Ronald."
Ron grimaced. "Back to Ronald are we?" he asked with a sparkle in his eye.
Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm. "I was parched from the heat and needed to rest someplace cool. Sorry for leaving like that but…but, I felt…sick." Hermione finished lamely.
"That's okay. You only missed meeting me cousin. Miriam." Ron managed between mouthfuls of food.
"Your cousin?"
"Yeah, she's an American."
Harry laughed. "Why do you feel the need to point that out? She's not completely outlandish or anything." Harry paused. "Not that I'd think that American's are outlandish or something. It's just, I don't know. Don't it seem like a long way to travel? An entire ocean!"
"She almost killed you Harry. I wonder if that was her fault or yours. You never have been very observant."
"Hey! She said she's clumsy. Don't chalk that up to being my fault. All's I did was follow you and I was suddenly face down on the ground being attacked by my books!"
"Your books attacked you?" Hermione asked distractedly.
"Metaphorically." Harry added, his face hinted at the worry he felt. His friend didn't look herself—her normal sharp-as-a-tack self. Instead, she looked, well, to be short, she looked lost. "Nothing literal like the monster book of monsters. Anyway, I thought she was rather nice."
Ron shrugged, his eyes studying his plate, missing the exchange going on between Harry and Hermione.
"What do you mean? Rather nice—that sounds like you're not too sure if she was or wasn't." Hermione asked as she set aside her own fork. Food really wasn't the thing on her mind at the moment.
Harry thought for a second. "Well, okay, I'll admit she's somewhat odd. But I don't think that's because she's American. She's just got a…strong personality. I guess you'd be right, Hermione. I really don't know if she was nice or not. Just…odd. I liked it."
"Oh. Well, that's nice." Hermione sipped the pumpkin juice in her goblet, stifling a yawn. Harry wanted to smack her—she wasn't being her usual perceptive self, and he couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. "Is she going to be attending Hogwarts?"
"Seems so." Ron said as he finished. "Don't know why exactly. She…she. Well, whatever, people change I suppose." Ron got up, pushing his plate away. "I'm rather tired, I'll see you tomorrow." With that he ascended the stairs, leaving them alone.
Hermione looked to Harry. "What's up with him?"
Harry shook his head. "I really have no idea. I get the feeling that he doesn't exactly like his cousin very much."
"You could say that again."
"What?"
Hermione berated herself for a moment. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm just…" she yawned. "Very tired. I guess it's best we get to bed. We have to get on the train tomorrow."
"I can't wait to go back Hermione." Harry murmured happily, a far away look in his eye.
Hermione smiled and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I know Harry. Hogwarts is home."
Harry smiled, his green eyes pleased. "Home."
A/N: Please Review...
