14
August 29, 1999 – First Sunday – Visits
After her revealing talk with Draco – when did I start thinking about him as Draco? – she sat outside for a while, trying to gather her thoughts. Based on how long it felt like she had been sitting outside and the lack of feeling in her fingers, she guessed it was getting close to breakfast. So, giving Equuleus one last scratch between the ears, she went back inside. She wanted to talk to Harry but didn't want to do it in front of all the other guests, so she headed to Alys's office to ask about using her floo.
Alys was hesitant, but given the current circumstances, she agreed. She handed Hermione the floo powder and then sat down at her desk to wait for Hermione's return.
Hermione threw in the chalky powder and stepped into the flames. She had barely mumbled "Grimmauld Place" when she stepped out into her living room.
"Harry! Gin!" she yelled, afraid to walk from this room for fear that they had taken to walking around naked in the week since she'd been gone.
Harry came barreling down the stairs, half of his face covered in shaving cream.
"Hermione! Are you okay?" He was ashen, and she immediately felt bad for having panicked him.
"Yes, I… I just…"
She recognized the familiar way his eyes searched her for injuries, and she felt a momentary pang of sadness and something else that felt like relief at knowing she wasn't the only one still carrying the weight of the war. She pulled him into a hug and felt the sting of tears. He wrapped his arms around her, and she crumbled. The burden of the last week washed over her like a tidal wave as he pulled her down to the couch. He always knew the right thing to do, and at this moment, he just held her and let her cry.
At some point, Ginny came into the room and sat down behind her, laying one hand gently across Hermione's back.
Hermione leaned back and wiped her eyes across her sleeve, just as she had done less than an hour ago while talking to Draco. She was surprised her sleeves had even dried, and she knew there was some strange allegorical connection there with the number of tears she was still crying and the quick drying time of the sleeves on her jumper.
"I'm sorry. It's been a really trying week. I didn't mean to scare you," she said, sniffling.
"It's fine, 'Mi. We just weren't expecting you," Harry said.
"I didn't even realize you could come here to visit," Ginny said, furrowing her brow.
"We aren't really supposed to. Alys let me come because… well, there was an accident, so the rules were bent a bit."
She told them both about the accident with Dennis, and she felt silent gratitude well up inside her when neither of them gasped or threw their hands over their chest in horror. She was thankful that Ron wasn't there. He would be pacing the room worrying over her if he had happened to be here when she stepped through the floo. Then she felt a stab of guilt for thinking poorly of him. Hadn't he been routinely surprising her, responding completely differently than she had been expecting him to?
She told them about the way they all looked at her now, as if she was dangerous and crazy. They were all wounded, or they wouldn't be there, but she was the only one who had actually hurt someone. When she walked through the hall earlier following Alys to her office, they all shied away from her like she was contagious, and Draco never even glanced in her direction.
She got to the parts about Draco and the way he had softly pulled the glass from her palms and cleaned her hands, unperturbed by her dirty blood on his pale skin. At that, they both did react. Two sets of wide eyes stared back at Hermione in disbelief. She thought if she were anyone else, they wouldn't have believed her at all. Once again, had Ron been there, she doubted she would have told them at all. It felt strangely intimate, and for some reason she felt like she was betraying Draco's trust somehow by sharing the situation with anyone else, particularly two people who he felt despised him so much. Nonetheless, they were her only family, and truthfully, she needed their advice on understanding it all, so she went on.
She told them of Draco's words in the bathroom, how he was helping her then because he regretted having not helped her before, and Harry looked away. They had never talked about her torture before. Of course, he had seen her arm and heard her screams during the act itself, but she never once told him about all of it, and he had never asked. None of them had. She suspected that, like Ron, he blamed himself somehow. It seemed everyone blamed themselves for what happened to her. Harry for saying Voldemort's name and bringing the Snatchers down on them, Ron for not being able to protect her, and Draco for not stopping it. Hermione wasn't sure who she blamed, but truthfully, in her darkest moments, hadn't she blamed them all at one point, too?
She told them about finding Draco outside and thanking him. She couldn't tell them of Luna's memories, but she could tell them of her advice regarding Draco and Dobby. When she mentioned Luna's words, "Ask him about Dobby," Harry turned back to face her. They rarely talked about Dobby, and she knew it was a sore spot for him. To him, Dobby was just another casualty, one more person who gave their life to save his.
"Bullshit!" Ginny said, standing up, her face almost the same shade as her hair. "He's lying, Hermione."
"Why? Why would he do that?"
"I don't know. Why do Malfoys do anything? To hurt someone. Because they're bored. Because they see someone vulnerable, and they fucking exploit it. He's probably just hoping you'll get his sentence squashed somehow."
"Why would Luna lie?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling too tired to have this fight with her. She believed him. Draco had been a lot of things throughout the time she knew him, cruel, condescending, spiteful, but she knew he was telling the truth. The look on his face was so genuine when she had been telling him of the way she blamed him when lying on the cold marble of his drawing room floor, hurt as much by his detachment as she had been by Bellatrix's dagger; there's no way his remorse wasn't real. She couldn't completely look past all the things he had done at Hogwarts, but to her, the Draco then, that young, manipulative boy, was a completely different person than the man who so carefully cleaned the cuts on her hands and face. For once she felt like she was able to see him differently even as a child. Looking back at all that he had done, the things he had said to her, to Harry, there was more to him than just a boy who wanted to hurt someone. He said that Luna had been the first person who ever actually listened to him. How lonely that must have been, to only be wanted for what you had to offer someone. Hadn't she felt that at times, too? Used for the help she could offer Harry and Ron on their homework? Taken for granted by Ron countless times throughout school? She didn't know the whole story, but somehow, she knew there was more to him, and she felt pity for the weak little boy he once was. She wasn't entirely sure how she even felt about him now. They surely weren't friends. But, if she had to pick one person who she felt anything at all for at The Willows, it would easily be him. He was the only one who even seemed to notice her beyond the staff.
"He's tricked her somehow, made her believe –"
"I've seen it, Ginny. You don't have to believe me, and I can't tell you much more than that without breaking someone's trust, but I've seen inside someone's memories. We aren't the only ones he saved."
Harry had been strangely quiet during her conversation with Ginny. She turned to him now to find him staring at the wall, a look of concentration on his face. He took a deep breath and turned toward Hermione.
"I believe you. I've never been able to figure out how Dobby knew where to find us," Harry said. "And, I trust you and Luna. I don't see what he could possibly have to gain from telling you that." Harry chuckled to himself and added, "Also, he's a shit liar, remember?"
She thought back to his terrible acting performance third year after his "mauling" by Buckbeak and couldn't help but laugh herself. She smiled at Harry then, feeling a bit of the weight she was carrying chip away. She didn't tell them so that they would believe her. She told them because she just needed to tell someone. She needed someone to know that maybe he wasn't what they'd all thought him to be at one time or another. But having him accept her word at face value made her feel like she wasn't crazy after all.
"He didn't ask anything from me. He was actually reluctant to tell me. I had to threaten to write to his mother in order to get him to tell me the truth," she said with a smirk.
"Did she talk to you, too? After his trial, I mean." When she nodded, Harry continued. "I've never told anyone because she asked me not to, but she just wanted to thank me. And –" He stopped, seemingly unsure about whether or not to finish the thought. "And she said that there was a lot more to him than anyone knew. I honestly thought it was just a mother wanting to see the best in her son, but she said he had made her swear to not talk about any of it. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, but maybe that's what she was talking about."
Hermione was sure he was right. "When she approached me, she only wanted to apologize. For what happened at her house. I told him that and let on like I was going to write her, so he cracked. There's more to the story, but I was pretty overwhelmed with that much."
She looked over at Ginny who was still red in the face. But she seemed to have calmed down; Harry had that effect on people.
Hermione looked up at the clock on the mantel. "I've got to get back. I was only coming to tell you to not come today. I … I didn't want you both to see how everyone was looking at me, and I didn't want to share all that with you while everyone else was looking on."
Harry and Ginny shared a look, and Ginny smirked, while Harry groaned.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking back and forth between them.
"I bet him that you'd find some way to try and keep us from coming today. He owes me a backrub," Ginny said, laying her head on Harry's shoulder before adding, "Every night for two weeks."
Hermione laughed, more pleased with the sight of them being so normal than dismayed with the idea that she was so predictable.
"Am I that transparent?"
Ginny shrugged. "We know you. And you definitely don't like people seeing you at what you would consider 'your weakest.' But we'll be there regardless."
Ginny smiled, and Harry added, "It's already decided."
She hugged them both and told them she'd see them in a couple hours before stepping into the fireplace and returning to The Willows.
When Hermione made it into the dining room, everyone was already seated for breakfast. The hushed voices and stares from around the table told her they had all been talking about her.
She took a seat, putting her between Walt and Draco, and noticed that Dennis's normal chair was empty. She poured herself a cup of tea from the teapot sitting across from her and hoped no one noticed her hands shaking as she made her plate from the dishes in the middle of the table.
She turned to Walt and asked, "How's Dennis?"
"He's just fine. Healer Andrews mended him up in no time, but she wanted to keep him at St. Mungo's for a couple days just to be safe."
Hermione nodded, trying to ignore the stares.
"We were all just talking about the magic suppression potion. We originally planned Sundays as the day that you would all be free to use magic. But –"
"But given that I almost killed Dennis, you think I should remain medicated," Hermione finished for him, staring at the teacup she was stirring rather than making eye contact with him.
"On the contrary, Hermione, I think you should be free to use magic today. What happened this morning, I believe, was a result of pent up magical power. Further suppression of your magic could result in more damage next time. This is all theoretical, of course, as there's no definitive research on the matter yet."
"So, what's the issue then?"
Walt opened his mouth to continue, but Seamus beat him to it. "We don't all think you should be walking around with the ability to throw someone through a wall."
Hermione felt her face growing hot, but for once it wasn't anxiety or embarrassment… she was pissed off.
She shifted in her seat and leveled her gaze at him, hoping her face wasn't giving away just how much she wanted to throw him through a wall.
She took a second to steady herself while she took a sip of her tea. Sitting her cup down, she folded her hands in her lap and said, "I can see how you of all people would be scared." She relished the flush rising up the collar of his shirt, and added, "Believe me, if I could control it, it wouldn't have been Dennis I had pinned to the wall."
Walt cleared his throat, but she continued to stare Seamus down. She had given him the opportunity to clear the chip from his shoulder, and now she wasn't backing down. She was, after all, the same Hermione Granger who disfigured Marietta Edgecombe so fiercely that healers still couldn't cure her years later. She didn't need magic to make him squirm. When Walt began speaking, she lifted one eyebrow at Seamus before turning to give Walt her attention.
"Let's all just calm down. What happened this morning was completely an accident. Dennis is absolutely fine, and we intend on taking precautions to prevent this from happening in the future. Clearly, Hermione's magic is just stronger than most, I think we can all agree on that, but we'll be upping the suppression potion for those who wish to increase their dosage." When several of the other guests grumbled at this, Walt said, "For those of you who have never shown accidental magic, I don't believe we'll need to take such measures. But, -"
"Surely, we can't all be expected to just sit around waiting on her to blow someone up again! You heard her threaten me!" Seamus stood up.
Walt remained seated and looked up at Seamus lazily, like he was so tired of his antics he couldn't even be bothered to stand. "No one threatened you, Seamus."
"Am I the only person with any sense around here? She almost killed Dennis!"
Parvati stood up and laid a hand on Seamus's arm, but he brushed her off. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to not focus on what he was saying, focusing instead on her conversation with Harry. Strangely, she wasn't even angry enough to respond to Seamus's accusations. She felt a sense of determination and decided that she was going to get better here, Seamus, and suppression potions, be damned. She could hear the volume escalating around her as others spoke up trying to calm Seamus.
She opened her eyes, feeling bizarrely calm, just as Seamus was demanding that everyone else get their magic back, except for Hermione, of course. "This is ridiculous! The bitch just –"
Seamus didn't get to finish his sentence before multiple things happened at once. Sparks shot through the air, and all the cups on the table exploded, sending tiny shards of glass throughout the room, all projecting away from her and toward Seamus at the other end of the table. The windows behind him were blown open and it felt like all the air was sucked from the room. And Seamus, chair and all, was sent flying backward, crashing into the wall behind him with a bang so forceful that the legs of his chair snapped beneath him.
Every eye in the room turned to look at her. Parvati was screaming as she ran toward Seamus just as he stood from the broken chair. He didn't appear to be hurt at all, save a bloody nose. He wiped the stream of it pouring from one nostril and pointed a finger at her.
"See! See! I told you! What more fucking proof do you need?"
Hermione sat in astonishment. She hadn't felt the explosion coming on at all. She lifted her hands to find there were no scratches across her palms like there had been this morning or when she had blown her room apart. She stood up, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, and said, "That wasn't me, I-"
At the same time, Draco stood abruptly from the chair beside her, sending it crashing to the ground behind him. He was staring fixedly at Seamus, unblinking, wearing the same hard expression he had used to silence Pansy during their introductory meeting. His fists were clenched in rage, and Hermione looked down to see a steady trickle of blood dripping on the floor beneath him. As soon as she noticed, the rest of the table seemed to follow suit.
Seamus stopped mid-sentence, looking back and forth between her and Draco. "They're in this together!"
Alys ran toward Seamus, conjuring a cloth for his nose and running a diagnostic to make sure he was alright. Seamus never stopped ranting. Susan stood as well and began cleaning up the mess, while Walt approached her and Malfoy. "Perhaps you two should come with me."
Draco at this point had both hands on the table in front of him and was leaning forward menacingly. She thought she had seen him mad before, throughout school when he felt slighted or wanted to show his superiority, but the look on his face now could have boiled water. He was completely still except for the steady rising and falling of his chest.
"Draco…" Walt said. All at once, the look on Draco's face fell, as if he had just woken up to the scene around him. He blinked a few times and turned to face her and Walt. Clearly, he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but when he looked down at his hands, the pieces seemed to fall into place. Seamus was still yelling at them as they both followed Walt from the room. Hermione turned one last time to see both Nicola and Parvati staring at her, and Hermione felt a stab of pain to see in their faces a mix of accusation and fear.
She and Draco followed Walt into his office, and Hermione realized how much different his office looked from Alys's. Though Alys's office seemed comfortable and friendly, it lacked any of her own personality, but the walls of Walt's office were covered in mementos from his life. Degrees were framed neatly on one wall, but the others were littered with pendants and memorabilia for some American sports team and various photos of Walt. She walked around the room admiring them. Some showed Walt shaking hands or huddled close together with other smiling faces, one she recognized as the British Prime Minister; the others she wasn't sure of. Apparently, he was an avid outdoorsman. There were photos of him hiking or climbing up the side of a mountain and a couple of him fly fishing. There was even one of him mid-air, presumably after jumping from an airplane, giving a thumbs-up.
She turned and found Walt leaning against his desk. Draco was looking around the room as well, and Hermione wondered how Susan's office looked. Draco was eyeing a photo of a baseball game when Walt said, "Do you follow baseball?"
Draco turned to Walt with a look of complete boredom on his face. "I don't know what that is," he said, and Hermione picked up the obvious tone of condescension she'd heard from him for years. "Is it like quidditch?"
Walt chuckled. "No, not really." He walked around his desk and took a seat. "Please have a seat."
She and Draco sat in the two armchairs facing his desk as Walt folded his hands atop it in front of him.
"It seems the cat is out of the bag now on your… abilities," he said, nodding toward both of them individually. "Draco, forgive my presumptions, but that seemed much more deliberate than the normal accidental magic."
Draco said nothing, but Hermione saw him tense from the corner of her eye.
"You're not in trouble." Walt shook his head. "As I said earlier, there is very little research on this phenomenon, and I wanted to speak with you both about it. Draco, you seemed to be much more in control of your magic than instances in the past. Is that correct?"
Draco shrugged, but Hermione could tell he wasn't nearly as relaxed as the gesture would have you believe. She could see him fidgeting with the ring on his pinky again.
"It was coming out regardless. I was just able to direct it a bit."
"How?" Hermione asked, shifting in her chair to face him. "I have no control at all. Half the time, I'm not even aware that it's happening."
Draco searched her face but said nothing.
"I have a theory," Walt said, and they both turned to look at him. "Draco, you are quite an experienced Occlumens and Legilimens, yes?" When Draco nodded, he continued. "I think that your ability to control your mind in such a way benefits you far beyond just a mental shield. Which leads me to a suggestion. Though I have studied the mind extensively, and, forgive me for the bold assumption, know far more than most in that regard, I am not at all an Occlumens. I've tried, and alas, I do not have that gift. I can talk theory to you all day long, but when it comes to actual practice, I'm appalling."
"So," Walt shifted his gaze toward Draco only. "I propose that you work with Hermione in helping her to better organize and control her mind. Occlumency itself, at its most basic steps, does not necessarily require magic, but any Legilimens with a wand can break through the wards of an Occlumens without one, I'm afraid. However, it isn't entirely necessary that you master Occlumency at all; I believe that the true gift for this purpose specifically will lie in the meditation aspect. But, if you'd like, I'm sure Draco could assist you in the finer details of the art once you are both able to utilize your magic again freely."
Oh, joy. The idea of anyone, let alone Draco poking around in her brain was terrifying.
They dissented at the same time.
"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.
"I don't believe I'm even capable of occlumency." When they both looked at her, she added. "I tried it years ago. I can't make my brain stop long enough to do the meditation."
"Hmm." Walt contemplated this for a moment and then said, "I think having an expert there to guide you may make all the difference in the world. But, how about we just give it a try? Can you do that?"
Hermione nodded, reluctantly, and Walt turned to Draco. He seemed to be contemplating something himself, but he nodded as well.
"Great," Walt said before standing and telling them they were free to go. "I'd like for you both to start tomorrow on this. Nicola is in charge of drafting the schedule for the week, but perhaps one of you could speak with her to make sure that you both have time together to work on it?"
They both nodded and left the room.
They walked back through the halls in silence, and just before they rounded the corner, they could hear voices coming from the common room. Hermione grabbed Draco by the arm gently and pulled him back.
"You said you could control it. Why did you do that?" She was trying not to sound accusatory, but she couldn't help the slight edge to her voice.
He narrowed his eyes at her and scowled. "I was tired of hearing him."
"I don't need you to take up for me, Dra-"
He snatched his arm away from her and turned to walk away. "Yet another 'thank you' would suffice, Granger."
They all listened to a speech from Alys and Susan about the necessity of getting along. Hermione thought it sounded very reminiscent of the many similar speeches the Sorting Hat made throughout school, all about uniting together and the perils of remaining at one another's throats. Throughout the entire speech, Seamus sat chewing the inside of his cheek and staring coolly at the wall.
At the end of it, Alys asked if anyone had anything they wanted to say. When everyone remained silent, she pointedly asked Seamus, "Isn't there something you'd like to say to Hermione?"
Seamus glanced toward Hermione briefly before muttering a barely audible apology. He looked back at Alys and said, "What about me? I was the one thrown across the room?"
Alys looked at Draco, but before she could say anything, Draco spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he smiled broadly. "I'm sorry, Seamus. I really had no control over it."
The room was silent as they all looked back and forth at Seamus and Draco, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Finally, Susan cleared her throat and said, "Okay, so now that that's out of the way, Nicola, you're in charge of scheduling this week. So, get that taken care of this afternoon before visitors arrive, please. You'll all have the rest of the day clear to spend with your guests, and we'll see you all at group tonight. The staff is leaving for the afternoon to spend time with our own families, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to send a Patronus."
They were all dismissed to go back to their rooms to prepare for their visits in a couple hours. Draco lifted one hand toward Nicola as she sat down at one of the tables to work on the schedule as if to ask if Hermione was going to handle it. She gave him a curt nod and sat down beside Nicola.
When she explained the situation, Nicola agreed to schedule her and Draco together, but not without lifting her eyebrows suggestively, as if Hermione wanted nothing more than to be alone with him.
"No, no, it isn't like that at all. We can barely stand one another to be honest. Walt wants Draco to teach me Occlumency, which could help me control my magic. Theoretically, of course."
Nicola leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "But Draco can't control his own."
Hermione pursed her lips skeptically.
"That's what I thought," Nicola said with a roll of her eyes. "He's going to get himself in trouble."
"He said he couldn't really control it. He said he was just able to 'direct it a bit'," Hermione said, adding air quotes for emphasis.
Nicola chuckled. "I've known him since he was a child. He's always been an awful liar."
This struck Hermione as odd. The two never spoke to one another, or at least not that she had seen. She had never stopped to think about it before, but given that they were the only two Slytherins, you'd think they would spend more time together. Hermione always thought it odd, but even so many years after school was over, people tended to always group with people from their own Hogwarts house.
"I didn't realize you knew him before coming here. Were you friends with his mother?"
"We were friends, yes. She and I were in the same year at Hogwarts."
"You two just don't seem to talk much. You and Draco, I mean."
Nicola looked down at her hands in her lap. "No, we don't." When she looked up, there was a strained look in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
Nicola leaned forward, returning to the schedule. Hermione thought that a bit odd. Any high-born woman, as trained in social etiquette as they all were, wouldn't rudely turn away from someone mid-conversation.
Hermione placed one hand on Nicola's wrist. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong. … I wasn't trying to pry."
Nicola looked up and smiled, but the smile never reached her eyes. She placed her other hand on top of Hermione's. "I know, dear." She leaned back again and sighed, turning to look somewhere to her left, away from Hermione. "Draco and I have some shared painful experiences. I think it makes us both remember those moments when we're together sometimes."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione couldn't imagine what they could have gone through together. Or what could have happened that would make it painful to be around one another. Hadn't she, Ron, and Harry been through plenty together? Yet, she couldn't imagine pushing them away to not have to think about those moments.
Nicola turned back to face her. "Not really. Though, sooner or later, I'm sure I'll have to. I know you said you two can barely stand one another, but you seem to know one another fairly well."
Only the worst parts.
"Did you know he was betrothed to one of my daughters?"
Betrothed? Hermione blanched. "I didn't know he was ever betrothed. Let alone to a Greengrass."
Nicola snickered. "In high-born society, most children become betrothed at a very young age, whether or not they want to be. The Malfoys, however, waited until Draco was older than most, likely waiting to find the best of the best." She waved a hand in the air with a flourish. "But, as the war progressed, my husband put us in a very precarious position with You-Know-Who. By this point Draco had risen in his favor, you know by not dying as was intended, so Narcissa proposed that we align our houses, in hopes that would alleviate suspicion of our allegiance. So, he and Astoria were engaged."
Hermione had never understood the asinine nature of arranged marriages in pure-blood society, but at least they weren't related as were most of the married Blacks.
"How did they feel about that?"
"I imagine they weren't particularly thrilled, but at the time, we were all just trying to survive. So, they didn't make a fuss about it."
Hermione couldn't imagine a time where Draco didn't make a fuss about anything. He must've actually cared for her.
"They were friends, after all, though she was a few years younger than him."
Was? "What happened?" Hermione asked, dreading that she already knew the answer.
Nicola seemed to look through Hermione. She was still facing her, still looking in the same direction even, but her face became hollow, as if she were talking to herself now and Hermione wasn't even there.
"It didn't work. My daughter died."
Hermione felt a lump rise in her throat. She kept waiting for Nicola to cry or show some sort of emotion at all, but the words came out as if she were reciting a grocery list. "They killed her. Draco and I were both there."
Hermione leaned forward to place one hand across Nicola's. "I'm so sorry, Nicola. That's horrible."
Nicola blinked a few times, seeming to pull herself out of the trance-like state she was in. "So, we don't have very much to talk about these days, with that hanging over us like a shroud."
Hermione didn't know what to say to her, but she knew just how much looks of pity infuriated her. The last thing she wanted to do was make Nicola feel that way. So, she sat back up to rest her back on her seat and tried to keep her face passive.
Nicola's expression returned to the blank slate that she wore so frequently, and she said, "I'll make sure to keep you both on the same schedule." She returned to the sheet of paper in front of her, clearly a dismissal, and Hermione stood.
"Thank you, Nicola," she said before she walked back to her room.
She lay across her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Clearly, there was more to this story than what Nicola shared with her. What else had Nicola gone through? What else had Draco been forced to watch without being able to intervene. She couldn't help but feel like an imposter. She couldn't help but feel that her own trauma was insignificant in comparison to losing a child or a best friend. How were they even able to walk around, as if they were fine, when she could barely keep her emotions in check or even sleep through the night?
She lay there for a while, thinking about how silly she was for even being here, amongst those who had been through so much more, and when she looked at her clock, she was surprised to see that it was lunch. It felt surreal that it was only noon, yet the events of today alone could have filled a week. She was exhausted, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny would be there within an hour, so she got up and took a quick shower before rushing downstairs just as the guests began to arrive.
She sat with her friends on the large patio overlooking the lake, casting a warming charm to ward off the windy chill blowing off the water. Dean Thomas followed Parvati and Seamus inside, waving at them as he walked inside, and Nicola stood alone in front of the apparition point. She stood there for fifteen minutes before pulling her scarf tightly around her neck and walking back inside.
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what was okay to tell them, but she thought sharing the information about Astoria Greengrass with her friends would be violating Nicola's trust somehow. So, she didn't respond when Ginny mentioned how sad it was to not have any visitors.
But Ron spoke up. "Her daughter was killed by Death Eaters." When they all turned to gape at him, his face reddened, and he said, "That's what I heard anyway."
Her friends turned toward her, but she only nodded slightly.
They all got quiet, likely thinking of their own losses. Refusing to allow the only time she got to spend with them to spiral into gloom, she said, "So, turns out Draco –" Ron and Harry both gave her a look of bewilderment, and she hastily added, "Malfoy, I mean. He has accidental magic too. Looks like it's only us two who do, actually."
"Have they said what causes that?" Ginny asked.
"Sort of. Apparently, there is very little research on it, but it seems that only those with very strong magical abilities have that problem. It's your magic's way of fighting back when it feels as if you're threatened. Now, we just have to teach my brain that I'm not actually in danger."
She swallowed and opened her mouth to tell them that she'd be taking Occlumency lessons with Draco, but before she could utter the first syllable, a loud crack emanated behind her.
Blaise and Pansy stood at the Apparation point, dressed to the nines as always. Blaise in his finely tailored navy suit, and Pansy wearing heels that made Hermione dizzy just thinking about wearing, black leather skirt, and form-fitting white turtleneck. How the hell is she so flawless?
They looked around momentarily before their eyes fell on Hermione and her guests.
They strolled over, and Blaise said, "Good afternoon, Granger. You look lovely as always." He nodded toward the others, but Pansy wouldn't even look in their direction. "It seems as if Draco forgot to mention that today was visiting day. Would you care to direct us toward his room?"
She blinked a few times before standing. "Um, sure." She turned toward her friends and said, "I'll be right back."
Pansy and Blaise followed her as she walked inside. "I share a corridor with Draco." When Pansy quirked one perfectly manicured eyebrow at her, she said, "Malfoy. I share a corridor with Malfoy, along with Dennis Creevey and Nicola Greengrass." She didn't miss the glance they shared at Nicola's name.
"I'm sure he isn't expecting us, given that he didn't even tell us we could visit today," Blaise said, pulling the sleeves of his white shirt beneath his suit jacket. "If Pansy hadn't heard it through the grapevine, our poor Draco would have been all alone today."
They stopped in front of Draco's door, and Hermione pointed toward the placard that read Draco and said, "It's just there."
"Thank you, Granger. We appreciate the – "
The door behind them opened, and Draco stood in the doorway looking back and forth between the three of them.
"Draco, Granger here was just directing us to your suite. It must've slipped your mind to invite us for a visit. Granger had the whole Golden Trio plus one out front, and you couldn't be bothered to invite your two closest companions. I'm hurt, Draco. I really am." Blaise placed a hand across his heart in mocking derision.
"I told you I didn't need guests. How did you even find out?" He narrowed his eyes at Hermione, as if this was her fault somehow.
Blaise turned to look at Pansy who only shrugged. "I have my ways."
Draco still had not invited them into his room. Blaise smiled cheekily and said, "You could just tell us how much it means to you that we squashed all of our Sunday plans to spend our time with you. I had three women hoping to spend their day with me, but here I am, ready to spend my day looking at your scowling face."
Draco broke his guarded expression then and returned the smile. He stepped out into the hall and lifted his hand in front of him, telling them to lead the way to the common room.
"We could join Granger and the other celebrities outside," Blaise said, shooting her a wink. Surprisingly, before she could think of an excuse out of that, Pansy and Draco each gave a resounding, "No!"
Both Draco and Blaise looked suspiciously at Pansy. She gaped at them for a moment before saying, "What? All that peachy-keen 'dogoodedness' makes me nauseous."
Hermione couldn't hold back her eye roll. "Oh, I'm sorry, Pansy. Perhaps if I wore my skirts a little bit shorter," she said, eyeing Pansy's short hemline, "people would see past my peachy-keen nature."
"If only you had the ass for it," Pansy replied with a saccharine smile.
Hermione didn't respond, but she could feel her blood boiling. She suddenly found herself wishing that she could control her "accidental" magic like Draco could. She felt a smile curve across her lips at the thought of throwing Pansy across the room and the satisfying crunch she'd make as she hit the wall. She gave her head a slight shake as she walked out into the sunlight, leaving Draco, Pansy, and Blaise inside.
Her face must've showed her aggravation because Harry said, "Everything okay?"
She turned to look in through the window behind her to see what appeared to be Draco chastising Pansy. Pansy only shrugged and plucked a grape off the table in front of her. Her eyes fell on Hermione through the window, giving her a snide wave in response. Hermione huffed and turned back around.
"Pansy fucking Parkinson. Nobody can get under my skin quite like she can."
"Pansy Parkinson?" Ron asked. "What'd she do?"
Hermione started to relay the story, but then felt like an idiotic schoolgirl after being bullied at Hogwarts. "She just gets off on annoying me."
"I'm sure that isn't true. She's probably just trying to fit in with Malfoy and Zabini." Ron pulled a stray string from the sleeve of his jumper, refusing to look up.
"Are you really taking up for her right now? Do you even know her?" Ginny asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
"No, of course I don't. I was just guessing. Hermione, don't you always say we should give people the benefit of the doubt?" He looked toward Hermione, as if what she meant by that was that Pansy Parkinson must really have a heart of gold hidden beneath her makeup, contempt, and sarcastic comments.
"Well, you're wasting that benefit on her then. Malfoy has been –" kind? occasionally caring? – "tolerable, and Zabini has always been surprisingly friendly. I highly doubt their presence requires her to put on airs."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Ron mumbled, returning to the loose string in his jumper before Ginny gave a guttural growl and burned the string off with a swish of her wand.
Hermione laughed at the banter between Ron and Ginny then, and the easy-going discussion they had enjoyed prior to their interruption with Blaise and Pansy returned.
Ginny left to grab some takeaway for dinner and came back with a large pizza, and they all sat around snacking and enjoying one another's company. It reminded Hermione of how they were before the war and gave her hope that one day she could return to who she once was. She didn't want to ruin their good moods by telling them about her one-on-one sessions with Draco starting tomorrow, so she just slid those thoughts to the back of her mind, focusing instead on the little bit of time she got to share with her friends before they would leave, bringing her back to reality and the loneliness of being here without them.