A/N: This is a big chapter. Sorry if it feels wordy – there was a lot to say!
-8-
According to McGonagall's instructions, the volunteers were up for quite an eventful Saturday. She described to them in detail the clocktower they'd be working in and, from the sound of it, it was in complete disrepair. Floors and walls were crumbling, boggarts and other minor magical beasts had found refuge in its abandoned cupboards and the clean-up would be a huge undertaking for the four volunteers. Wearing her normal stern expression, the Headmistress urged them to rise early and arrive to this same room by 9 o'clock the next morning – "and no later than 9 o'clock" she had said, and they could all assume the consequences for not heeding her advice would be unfavorable.
And with that, the meeting was finished and the students split off in pairs, taking their leaves to rest up for the big day. Pansy was quick to grab Draco by the arm and drag him through the exit. Hermione could see Draco almost hesitate as he left, but if he'd had anything to say, he'd kept it unknown and let himself be led out of the room.
As McGonagall had already bid them a goodnight and retreated to her office, Hermione was left alone with Hannah Abbott, whom she hadn't seen since the war – and even then, it was only in passing Hermione had seen Hannah. She remembered her blonde classmate standing among the witnesses to Harry and Voldemort's battle. It was a shared experience that neither would forget in their lifetime.
Hermione smiled warmly, walking over to Hannah with her arms held open. Hannah, though a little surprised, return the gesture. They hadn't been close friends, necessarily, but their time together in the D.A. formed a concrete bond between all involved. Despite not keeping in contact with each other, Hermione felt like she was embracing an old friend.
When she pulled back, Hermione studied Hannah's appearance. She seemed aged from the war, but didn't they all? Her blonde hair was longer than she wore it at school – it now sat far past her shoulders. Hannah grasped her hand, said, "It's so good to see you. I never got to thank you and Harry and Ron for…my god, I mean, for everything. True heroes, you three." She gave Hermione's hand a slight squeeze.
"Oh hardly," Hermione said, uncomfortably. As Harry Potter's closest friends, Hermione and Ron were both subjected to praise and gratitude in the aftermath of Voldemort's demise, but Hermione didn't feel worthy of it. She'd been a small part in a huge outpouring of effort from the Order and other witches and wizards across the country. So, Hermione did what she'd always done in these situations – try to deflect the conversation.
"Now, don't act as if you weren't there, too! I heard all about your badass fight in the Great Hall. Taking out a giant with only a couple of hexes?" Hermione said, because this was the only way she could speak about the war without tears spilling from her eyes. Because it was over and they'd buried the dead and tried the guilty, all there was left to do was make jokes when appropriate and move on.
Hannah laughed along, running her hand across the back of her neck. "Yes well, I'd have been nothing without the D.A. We'd been put through so much shit that year, I was ready to take it out anyone who even looked at me funny." She looked around the small room they remained in before continuing, "So how long have you been back at Hogwarts? When I got my volunteer letter, I jumped right on the next train. I just arrived on Thursday."
"I've only just finished my second week," Hermione said. "I've been doing restoration work up in the library. Have you already been assigned to your project?"
"Yeah, I'm paired with Longbottom to fix some classrooms up on the second floor - "
Hermione interrupted before she could finish, "Longbottom? Do you mean that Neville was on the train with you?" There was no way she could've possibly missed Neville's arrival to Hogwarts?
But the answer came in the shake of Hannah's head. "No, no, according to my papers, he's meant to arrive Sunday morning. He and I were assigned to the Hufflepuff dorms. I've already had the pleasure of meeting Pansy up in the common room. She didn't even try to start anything with me, she was too busy groaning about all of the work she has to do in her assignment. I don't get why she even applied for this project." Hannah rolled her eyes, "To be stuck with her all day tomorrow…I'm not sure we'll survive it."
"How were you chosen for the project tomorrow? If you just got to Hogwarts, I mean." Hermione asked.
"On the train we were all asked if we'd like to be considered for an extra work assignment and were told that it'd be extra pay. I'd like to have some money to send to my dad back home, so I told them they could add my name to the chalice. Those who wanted it, did the same, I suppose." Hannah shrugged her shoulders.
A sudden noise halted their conversation, both girls turning their heads towards the direction of the commotion. Before panic could set in, Hermione saw the familiar silhouette of Professor McGonagall trudging closer to them. Hermione looked at the time and realized she and Hannah had to be the last ones left inside the Great Hall.
"Ladies," McGonagall huffed as she came into the light of the small room, a deep scowl set in her wizened face. It was clear they'd overstayed their welcome.
"Sorry Professor, we were just leaving!" Hermione hooked her arm through Hannah's and they sped to the door.
"See you tomorrow, Professor!" Hannah yelled back, not waiting for a response. The girls giggled as they sped through the now empty Great Hall.
When they made it out, a safe distance from a reprimanding by their Headmistress, the girls agreed to meet at breakfast the next morning, bid each other good night and Hermione made the now familiar journey to the Slytherin dorms.
When she reached the common room, she found it packed with people. Witches and wizards scattered themselves around the room; a small group of people lounging on the black upholstered sofas, another wizard sitting alone at a table, pouring over a pile of disheveled papers. The room had grown busier over the past week as more rounds of volunteers started arriving at the castle.
The weight of the work day and the anticipation of what would be in store for tomorrow heavy on her shoulders, Hermione wound through the tables and chairs, up the staircase, and sank into her bed.
Morning came fast and Hermione was woken by the bright, green tinged light streaming through the fake stain glass window by her bed. She stretched, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and rolled out of bed to face the day. She walked sleepily to the mirror, decided quickly to style her hair in a half-pony, letting her natural curls fall as they may.
They'd been told to dress comfortably for today, so she dressed in a navy cardigan that cinched in at her breasts, high-waisted slacks and sneakers. Happy with her looks, she grabbed her wand and her bag and went down to meet Ginny and Hannah for breakfast.
Talking while they ate, the time flew by and before she knew it, Hermione and Hannah were waving Ginny goodbye – Ginny's parting words were, "Good luck!" – and the two headed together to the same room they'd met in the night before.
When they walked in, they noticed the room was already occupied by two – Pansy and Draco sat on chairs across from them, huddled closer than would be considered appropriate for friends. This was exacerbated by Pansy's blatant flirting, which they'd had the most unfortunate timing to walk in on. Pansy clearly noticed their entrance and decided to give them a show.
"Isn't is a shame you got stuck working with her? In the library, of all places." Her voice was quiet, but it carried in the small room. And every word Pansy said was intended for Hermione to hear. Her hand grazed Draco's leg, steadily climbing higher the longer he took to answer her.
Draco noticed their audience too – he lazily grabbed her hand and placed it back in her own lap. "Work is work, Pansy," he droned, his voice sounded sleepy. Hermione wondered if Pansy had kept him up the night before.
This answer didn't satisfy Pansy, though. She leaned her body over Draco's reaching her lips so close to his ear that she could kiss it if she pursed her lips and whispered, "But can you imagine how much fun we'd have if you and I were partners?" Draco's eyes rolled slightly and he opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione noticed Hannah's cheeks growing bright red from what they were listening to and decided to shut down this disgusting display of – well – Pansy's desperation.
Hermione stepped further into the room and cleared her throat, loudly announcing their presence. "If you don't wish to see Hannah and I lose our breakfast all over this floor, I suggest you save the rest of this conversation for the bedroom."
"Innocent little Granger wouldn't know what happened in the bedroom even if it happened right in front of her." She chuckled to herself.
Draco didn't join; "Lay off, Parkinson. It's almost 9. Unless you want to explain this conversation with the Headmistress, I suggest you drop it."
Almost as if by cue, in walked Professor McGonagall, who didn't bother with greetings and merely said, "Follow me."
The walked a short way from the Great Hall and towards the hospital wing, which directly neighbored the clocktower. When they reached the corridor with the entrances of the infirmary and the tower, McGonagall stopped the group.
"I'll explain the work in more detail when you're able to see the…conditions you will be working in. Any questions before we go in?" McGonagall's gaze swept across the mismatched group of four. They all shook their heads, almost in unison, and followed behind their Headmistress as she led the way to their temporary work space.
The clocktower was multi-level, starting on the base floor, which held the swinging pendulum. Though the pendulum was chipped in places and the foundation surrounding it had a few chunks missing, this level had gone mostly unscathed. However, as they made their way up to the next floor, the damage became more apparent.
The next floor held the face of the clock, but it was mostly unrecognizable as a clock in its current state. Shards of glass littered the floor so much so that Hermione couldn't take a step without hearing the crunch beneath her feet with each step she took. The hands of the clock were bent out at weird angles and many gears had been blown out of their places, lying useless on the ground or rather missing entirely.
Up one last flight of wooden stairs was the final floor of the tower, which housed the clock's bells and the suspension spring of the pendulum, though their guide didn't take them up to see it. Seemingly, their work to be done today was on this second floor, where the glass face of the clock was in ruins.
They found a spot clear of debris and grouped around Professor McGonagall, eager to hear the details.
"The time now is 9:30," McGonagall started, eyeing a notepad gripped in her hand. "At 1PM, you all will be dismissed for lunch. Afterwards, you will return to finish by 7. By this time, the formal dinner in the Great Hall will be finished, so dinner will be sent to your common rooms to enjoy when you're done."
Pansy looked as if she wanted to protest these working hours, but apparently wanting to keep her job, she stayed silent.
"It's imperative we finish this by night's end, which is why we've recruited you four. We need this tower running by the September semester, and this clean-up is step one. Ideally, we wanted six to be working on this effort, but we feared having any more than 4 workers up here for that long might cause the floors here to give way." They all glanced at her, incredulously, hoping she was joking. But it wasn't in McGonagall's nature to joke about work.
Hermione noticed the squeaks of the wooden floorboards as they walked – even as they stood here, she could feel an unnatural bounce in the flooring. She looked above her, noticing the wooden rafters over them looking just as menacing as the floors felt. She shivered slightly, her mind wandering into 'worst case scenario' territory. She shook her head faintly, hoping to rid her mind of those thoughts.
"The flooring isn't the only thing you all should be conscious of as you work today. Upon this very landing are 2 cupboards, both of which hold a boggart. It will be part of your duties to get rid of them. There are also a pair of ghouls who've made their home on the top floor. You all needn't banish them, just know that they're not the friendliest creatures and may try to interrupt your work. They do bite, mind you. An easy Immobulus charm should keep them subdued for a bit."
McGonagall glanced around the floor, looking for something. Instinctually, the group also began looking around, wondering if the floor was about the fall beneath them, when their Professor suddenly voiced an "Aha!" She bent down to retrieve something near her feet, and when she came back up, Hermione noticed something golden, made of a shiny metal, in her hand.
"This," she said, holding it out for them to see," is a cog from the very clock behind us. There are springs all about the room as well. We need the four of you to search and gather these parts for the reconstruction of the clock. They could have been blasted to the other floors as well, so do make sure you check thoroughly."
"You mean to tell me we have to find each and every cog and spring that came out of that bloody clock?" Draco asked, his large holding the back of his head, like the information he's hearing is enough to explode it if he doesn't keep it in place.
"Language, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, but Pansy was right there to back him up.
"He's right, Professor. How are we supposed to know how many of those we should find? We'll be here for days if we have to find hundreds of those in this mess!"
All Hermione could think was that a simple metal detector could do this work in a matter of minutes, but it wasn't like witches and wizards to allow themselves muggle inventions, however practical they may be.
"Don't worry yourselves – we only need about 20 of each in order to recreate duplicates to repair the clock. It is important that you do not utilize the charmed brooms to sweep the floors until these have been found. If we fail to obtain enough parts, we may lose this centuries old relic of our beloved school."
"What a bummer that'd be," mumbled Pansy.
Growing irritated, McGonagall raised her voice louder. "Might I remind you that you all volunteered for and are being paid for your work here today? We're not asking you for free labor, Ms. Parkinson." She motioned for Hannah's hand and, when it was opened front of her, placed the cog she'd found in it. She then dusted her hands on her robes. "Well, then. I will leave you to it. Your lunch will be delivered in the corridor off of this floor at 1 o'clock, so you're not eating among debris. Need any help and you may find me in my office. I will come dismiss you at 7." And with that, she was gone.
Hannah held out the cog sheepishly, "Well, 1 down, only 19 more to go!" and while her voice was meant to sound cheery and optimistic, it fell flat in the realization that they were now stuck together for the next 10 hours and the amount of work before them was extensive.
Draco was the first to break the awkward tension. He clasped his hands together, causing the veins in his arms to pulse faintly. "I don't know about you lot, but I'd rather not be stuck here past 7 o'clock. Granger and I have made a pretty solid routine working on our library project, so I suggest we do something similar here."
"A routine?" Hannah asked, though the question was aimed more at Hermione. Hannah still seemed too embarrassed to speak directly to Pansy or Draco after what they'd overheard this morning.
Hermione nodded and answered, "Yeah, we've made pretty good progress. Our job is pretty alike to what we're meant to do here. We search among the debris and battered books for anything irreparable. Separate and organize."
"Thanks for the job description but could you get to the part that is useful to what we're doing here?" Pansy said, playing absently with a piece of her hair, letting her other arm rest comfortably on Draco's shoulder. Draco seemed unfazed by this, as if this was a usual affection between the two of them.
"I was getting to that," Hermione snapped, a little more forcefully than she'd meant to, and explained, "We found a good method – I clean and inspect the books, then hand them off to Malfoy to organize and alphabetize. When we have a shelf finished, we put the books back together. Each has their own job to do. It's worked well for us so far."
"Great, then let's follow that," Hannah said, attempting again to add her cheery disposition within this already tense environment. "Pansy and Draco, you two can start clearing away debris with hovering charms and Hermione and I can deal with those bogarts. We handled lots of them in the D.A. –" she stopped abruptly, recognizing that most of her company couldn't relate to the work done by the D.A.
"Fine. Yeah, good. Let's start, then." Draco said, using his elbow to nudge Hermione's arm. "Just another day of work for us, huh? Can't get rid of me, can you Granger?" Smiling slyly, he ignored the daggers coming from Pansy and removed his bag from his shoulder.
They each threw their bags onto the balcony, not wanting to hide any of the floor for fear of concealing something important. Then with a silent agreement, they all got to work.
It wasn't a fun or easy morning. Wands were flying methodically as they worked, hovering debris, searching through piles of glass and stone and wood for shiny pieces of metal. With each creak of the wooden floor, they worked faster, for fear their lives might end before finding 20 of anything.
The morning was going smoothly – too smoothly – and by lunch the cupboards had been rid of boggarts, only Draco had been bitten by one of the ghouls – which had sent Hermione and Hannah into a giggling fit and Pansy in a panic over whether Draco could die from a ghoul bite – and collectively, they'd found 12 cogs and 14 springs.
To keep up their efficiency, the foursome decided to take lunch in pairs. Pansy and Draco would eat first while Hannah and Hermione kept searching. When they finished, they would switch.
"How should we split off for lunch?" Draco asked, wiping a bead of sweat that was threatening to disappear down the neck of his shirt.
Pansy looked at him questioningly. Strangely, Hermione was in agreement with her on this one. It seemed unspoken which pairs they'd use for their lunch break.
Draco noticed the awkward silence and, fumbling to explain, said, "I just – I mean that I have something to talk- " his eyes landed on Hermione and she thought back to the strange looks she'd received from him this week. This look was similar, and if looks could talk, this look would have a question for her. She was dying to know what it was.
But Hannah, truly the glue holding this sad excuse of a group together, didn't let the moment linger. "Oh, don't worry, Draco. Hermione and I are fine going second if you and Pansy want to eat first." For added effect, she turned to Hermione and asked, "Right, Hermione?"
Hermione only nodded. Draco, too, nodded curtly, stood up and said to Pansy, "let's eat then."
Hermione thought she saw Pansy's brow furrow, but it was quickly replaced with a sly smile as she looped her arm through Draco's. "Great, I'm starving. Do you think they brought the same food for all of us?" But Draco's answer was lost as they walked out of the room.
When the pairs switched, no words were spoken between them. As she and Hannah ate, Hermione found herself straining to listen to what was happening in the clock tower, but if Draco and Pansy were discussing anything, it was too quiet to hear.
"Think they're actually working? My guess is they're off making out somewhere. We all know it's all they ever did at school." Hannah snorted, taking another bite of her bread roll.
"Apparently, Draco's really smart," Hermione said absently, still trying too hard to listen to contribute well to this conversation. When she noticed Hannah's look of disbelief at the mere thought Hermione would come to Draco's defense, she quickly threw out, "Of course, I don't believe it. Pure rubbish."
And that was the extent of their conversation. As they were all eager to finish and the time was quickly nearing 2 o'clock, Hannah and Hermione rushed back to work.
Not that their group dynamic had been great this morning, but the atmosphere in the clocktower had deteriorated massively by the evening.
Draco, who at least had been in a teasing mood earlier, wore a look of complete loathing on his face. Hermione's first thought was that he and Pansy had had a fight, but she would catch moments of Pansy whispering to him and she'd see Draco nod in agreement. Like she was egging him on to something.
And, used to Draco's mood swings, Hermione thought nothing of it. They were up to 20 cogs and 19 springs, the ghouls were both immobilized, and it was looking like they might finish early.
But the euphoria of finishing work early vanished with the words, "They're here to be our guards?"
Hermione and Hannah turned on the spot. Draco had let the stone slab he'd been hovering crash the ground. The floors creaked ominously. He stalked towards Hermione, utter hatred marring his normally handsome face.
"Is it true?" This was aimed at Hermione. "Did McGonagall pair us off because you're meant to be watching over me?"
Hermione stood her ground, though instinct told her to run. She never imagined he'd find out this way – and she hadn't planned out what to say to him in this situation.
She tried to lie. "We're partners. Neither of us are given any higher status than the other."
But it wasn't Draco who retaliated. Pansy came to stand next to him and Hermione felt outnumbered. She quickly realized what secrets Pansy must've been delving to Draco as they worked this afternoon. She wondered how Pansy had found out.
"That's bullshit, Granger, and you know it is. We can't be trusted, right? Isn't that what McGonagall told you?" She scoffed, "That's what I was told. Don't you see, Draco? Hogwarts is very clearly divided – there were two sides to the war, and if it wasn't absolutely clear you were for the right side, you can't be trusted. So, here we are. Paired with guards who make sure we follow the rules and don't moan about it."
Hannah, sweet, dear Hannah, tried again to help diffuse the situation, but Pansy wasn't done spilling secrets.
"Oh, it doesn't stop there. Rumor has it, the Ministry put a trace back on all of the wands of us here who weren't fighting with Dumbledore's chums," she said, slowly caressing Draco's arm, as though she was comforting him rather than feeding his anger.
Hermione stood, dazed. Not even Hannah could help her explain this away.
"You know that we have nothing to do with those decisions!" Hermione was done with calm, rational conversation. Her emotions were beginning to boil over. "You think we have that much fucking power, Pansy? If we did, I'm sure you wouldn't be standing in this castle right now." Hermione's chest heaved, hands balled into fists at her side, ready to grab for her wand at any moment.
"Oh yeah, Granger? Then why were you at Draco's trail at the Ministry, hm?" Hermione couldn't hide her shock. She saw Draco's hands curling in anger. Pansy stalked towards Hermione, never breaking her accusatory gaze, as if hoping the look would affect Hermione like her words clearly were. "Didn't think anyone knew, did ya? It just so happens that my trial was scheduled directly after his. I saw you, clear as day, walk in and out of that chamber after he'd finished testifying. Want to explain what you were doing there?" She grinned threateningly, her eyebrow raised in question. Her fake curiosity made Hermione's blood boil.
"I submitted my memories to the Ministry," Hermione tried to say confidently, but it fizzled into a whisper. One look at Draco told her it'd been heard.
His body came fast and hard against hers. Confusion and rage blizzard in his winter eyes, his body unusually close against her, barring Hermione from an easy struggle.
"Which. Memories?" Draco spat through his teeth, every regretful and shamed feeling he'd had since arriving back at Hogwarts bubbling to the surface. In a sick, twisted way, he felt betrayed, tricked into thinking he'd been trusted to do something important, something redeeming for all of the wrong decisions he'd made, and it'd all been a show? She'd been against him before he'd even arrived at the castle.
"I submitted my memories as evidence," Hermione said with a gasp, as Draco reactively dug her arms harder to the wall, her back against the doorframe leading out onto the balcony. "Only a few, they only needed a few," she groaned, irritated at the unnecessary confrontation, and began to move her feet, as if to kick at the insides of his legs. As if emphasising who was in control of the situation, Draco used his knee to hold her thigh against the wall, causing her legs to open immodestly. The wood of the frame creaked in protest.
"I fucking knew this was all a big charade with you. I can't believe I actually thought we – I mean with the book, I - " he paused again, trying to control his thoughts through the muddled feelings swimming through his mind. "You'd like to see me rot in Azkaban, wouldn't you, Granger?"
He looked into her eyes as he asked her, and could see the actual change from fear swirled in gold to fury engulfed in black.
"Enough of this! Get off of her!" Hannah yelled, yielding her wand. But she didn't have time to even flick her wrist.
"You absolute prick!" Hermione bellowed, not even try to swallow her rage. "I submitted those memories in your fucking DEFENSE! YOUR DEFENSE! But God knows I'm regretting that, now!" Her chest heaved against his and he became conscious of just how close he was to her.
"Defense?" He asked. He looked over at Pansy, who looked annoyed at this new piece of information. Her plan had backfired.
"Defense," she confirmed.
So, she was the reason that he'd been spared Azkaban? His mind couldn't process this, his grip slacking enough for Hermione to break free, though he didn't try to fight her escape. As quickly as she was out of his grasp, her wand was pointed at his chest, her arms red from the clutch of his hands.
Draco's posture slacked as he backed against the other side of the frame, his back now exposed to the open air of the balcony. His anger melted into confusion.
"Why?" he breathed, his mind far from this clocktower at Hogwarts, revisiting the Manor, Hermione on the floor, writhing in pain. "Why would you defend me after what I've done?"
Hermione's eyes softened, but he'd gone too far. She didn't drop her combative stance as she answered, "Yeah Malfoy, why did I do that? Maybe because I saw you do something human that day? You made a choice during the battle, like we all did. You made the right choice. So I thought, 'hey, maybe the years of ridicule and hatred I'd witnessed from him was just him following the crowd and this choice he made is what defines his true character.'" She tossed her head back in Pansy's direction, not daring to break their eye contact. "But you're reverting to old habits, Malfoy. So, I don't know why I did it. You tell me. Was it all for nothing?"
He had let Pansy get to him, it was true. But when he'd heard about the trace and the guard pairings, the betrayal he'd felt was so real it seemed palpable. Then Pansy told him about Hermione testifying at his trial and that'd been it. He felt like he could never truly belong among the likes of Granger – people couldn't see him as capable of doing any good. He was doomed to repeat his father's mistakes.
A loud creaking came from the floor above them, noticeably different from the sounds they'd grown accustom to throughout the day. Even Hermione relaxed her stance to look up at the source of the noise.
Strangely, the next few second passed in a single breath but Draco saw it all happen as if in slow motion.
The creaking grew into a roar as the rafters overhead came barreling toward where they stood.
Draco's arm twined about Hermione's waist, pulling her roughly against his chest, his hand coming to settle over her head. He pulled her backwards, feeling the opening at his back and stumbled out into the evening air.
"Hermione!" was the last thing he uttered before the crash of wood and stone came piling at their feet.
A/N: I'm so thankful to anyone who's made it through 8 chapters of my story. I did promise a slow-burn… ;)
I'd love to know your thoughts so far in the reviews. Good or bad!
-Jane