/
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as he appeared through the hearth, dusting the soot from his robes before he embraced her.
"Harry! I missed you!" Seeing his familiar smile, she knew for certain she had missed him.
"But not as much as she missed me," Ginny said in jest, smiling as she appeared behind Harry.
"Of course," Hermione replied as she released Harry and moved to hug Ginny.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, noting his absence as she parted from Ginny.
"He's coming later, with Luna," another Weasley responded through a puff of ash as he stepped beyond the hearth, although, by the sight of the fang earring dangling from his ear and the confidence in his stride, Hermione immediately recognized it was not Ron— it was Bill.
"Luna?" Hermione asked as she shifted her gaze to Harry in curiosity.
"Yes, Luna Lovegood, y'know— blond hair, radish earrings, huge lion hat, Thestral whisperer extraordinaire…" Ginny replied sarcastically, although good-naturedly. "She and Ron haven't left each other's side the whole break."
"What about Lavender?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged, "Don't ask me—"
"Oh, my dear idiot brother has forgotten all about Lav-Lav… I think Won-Won's in for a very rude awakening when he gets back," explained Ginny.
"Ron says he and Luna are just friends," Harry mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.
Ginny snorted. "Just friends… right. Those two can't get enough of each other, they just don't know it yet. You two wouldn't know anything about that kind of thing though, would you…" Ginny's voice was dripping in devious sarcasm.
Harry blushed deeply and Hermione looked to Bill, eager to change the subject.
"Thanks for coming to look at the necklace, Bill."
"I'm sorry it's taken me so long, Hermione. Things are getting ugly at Gringott's… uglier than usual. And don't get me started on the Ministry— but let's find another room, I'm sure more people will be coming through this Floo shortly."
"Hermione, er— Dumbledore wants to see me right away—" said Harry, his expression full of concern and guilt.
"And I need to find Neville— I forgot to give him his Christmas gift before the holiday," Ginny added.
"It's okay, you two go ahead," Hermione replied as they stopped outside an empty classroom. "I'll catch up with you later."
In truth, she was relieved Harry would not have another chance to examine the necklace, nor discover the scar she'd been concealing all this time.
"Bye, Bill!" Ginny called as she and Harry disappeared down the corridor.
Hermione entered the empty classroom with Bill, taking a seat at a vacant desk as he set to work examining the necklace through a jeweler's loupe he'd pulled from his pocket.
"Definitely goblin platinum, there's no question there… and pretty old too. Maybe sixteenth century."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise; she never imagined the necklace could be quite that old. She was afraid to ask Bill how much he thought it was worth.
"And the two rings… Dad told me about them."
"Do they mean something?" She inquired.
"Marriage," Bill said plainly.
Hermione felt a lump grow in her throat.
"A bond for life. At least in a traditional sense… in more modern times it's just been a symbol that a witch was taken— er, you know, in a relationship…"
"Oh," Hermione replied, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought of such a bond… with Malfoy. It didn't help that Fleur was not nearly the only witch who found Bill Weasley rather attractive.
"But Goblins are as possessive of each other as they are of their valuables, and doubly as mistrusting. They've used their metals to mark their possessions— and their mates— for centuries… and of course wizards and witches copied this idea and claimed it as their own— you can now buy lots of jewelry right in Diagnon Alley with the same sort of charm, of course made with more common metals— only the person who clasped it can remove it."
"But why does mine burn?"
"Another thing wizards and witches are really good at— corruption— and getting disadvantaged creatures like Goblins to do their dirty work. I see this one's marked you… dad didn't mention that."
Hermione looked away, trying to hide her guilty expression, but it was in vain.
"Oh, I see…" Bill said quietly in realization of Hermione's deception. "Hermione, why didn't you mention that to my dad? I'm assuming Harry and Ron don't know either?"
"I—" Hermione felt very warm. "I didn't think it really mattered… and I didn't want anyone to worry."
Bill sighed heavily, and Hermione only now noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't been exaggerating about Gringott's and the Ministry.
"You've seen the mark before? What does it mean? And why does it look like an 'M'?"
Bill pulled away, tucking his loupe back into his pocket. He slumped into his seat at the vacant desk beside Hermione, and she thought he looked so much older than she'd ever noticed him look before. He reminded her very strongly of Mr. Weasley the night before they's left for school. The war was taking its toll on everyone, it seemed.
"It means Malfoy has been tracking you. Goblin metals can make connections like that. Draco's the heir of not one, but two ancient pureblood families, so there's no doubt he's got some goblin-made valuables of his own… another necklace maybe, or more likely a ring…"
Hermione's eyes widened in recognition.
Malfoy does have a goblin-made platinum ring, and he wears it all the time.
She remembered the way Slughorn had complimented it, along with her necklace, at one of his suppers.
"So you've seen him wearing such a ring then," Bill said grimly, noting Hermione's expression of realization. "I bet your location shows up right on the inside."
So that's how he knew I was waiting for him and Nott outside the Room of Hidden Things…
Hermione wondered if Draco was looking at the inside of his ring right now, tracking her location as she did his on the Marauder's Map.
"As for the 'M' mark… well…" Bill trailed off, shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.
"You can tell me, Bill. I need to know."
"It's his mark— Malfoy's I mean. His signature. Each time someone else tries to remove the necklace, the deeper the mark will burn."
"You mean… the 'M' is his— his handwriting? From his actual signature?"
Bill nodded gravely in silence.
Hermione shivered. She felt as if the Dark Mark itself had been seared into her collarbone.
"I've tried to heal it—" she said quietly.
Bill looked away. "It might fade a bit over time… but it will never heal. It's Dark magic…" Bill continued grimly. "Could be Goblin or wizard, I'm not sure… I'm sorry, Hermione."
"It's— it's all right," she said. She had suspected as much.
"Can you remove the necklace?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"I could— but it might kill you… actually, it could kill us both."
"So you're saying the only safe way to remove it—"
"—is to get Malfoy to take it off of you himself, yes… unfortunately."
Bill scowled, and his expression reminded her of Ron when he was frustrated with something.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of this new information settling in her chest… heavy, constricting.
"I know Malfoy will never remove it without being forced. We need to tell a professor, or Dum—"
"No!" Hermione panicked.
No one else can know… they'll start asking questions… or he could be expelled, and then…
Bill watched her internal struggle with marked concern.
"I— I just mean… it will only make it worse," she added hurriedly. "The necklace isn't hurting me, and… and I can handle Malfoy."
Bill sighed. "If you're sure that's what you want—"
"Yes," she replied quickly. "But I have another question…" Her mind was racing.
"This is obviously a dark item— how did it get past Filch's sensors?"
"It's goblin-made, that's how. It's a different sort of magic, and metal, the way the magic of house-elves is different from ours."
Hermione nodded in understanding, thinking of Sprock's recent appearance in the castle.
"Thank you for coming, Bill… I know it was to give me bad news, but at least I know what I have to do now."
Bill took a moment to scrutinize her expression.
"I'm not going to ask why you haven't told anyone about the scar, Hermione— the real reason why," he added quickly as she opened her mouth to make a retort.
"Malfoy— he… well who knows what he's been put up to now that his father's imprisoned. There have been whispers about the goings-on at Malfoy Manor… At any rate, Draco's dangerous— so please, just promise me you'll be careful. For your own sake, but for Harry and Ron's too."
"I—" Hermione paused, considering perhaps now might be her last opportunity to come clean about everything.
"I will," she said quietly, unable to meet Bill's eyes, her thoughts involuntarily wandering to the way Malfoy's hand had felt in hers, his ring pressed into her palm.
/
"Thanks again for the seeker's gloves, Hermione, my old ones were knackered," Harry said, grinning broadly at her as they sat side-by-side by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room.
It was nearly midnight, and Harry had just finished telling Hermione and Ron about his meeting with Dumbledore; all the memories the Headmaster had shown him, and Harry's new task— retrieve Slughorn's completed memory about horcruxes.
Hermione had spent all evening catching up with Harry in much the same spot, recounting his Christmas at the Burrow, including Tonks' continued poorly demeanor, Percy's reappearance, and Harry's unwelcome meeting with the Minister. She'd been disgusted to learn how Scrimgeour had tried to use Harry as a mascot, and surprised to learn of Lupin's underground work with werewolves. Hermione reasoned at least they now had an explanation for their former professor's ongoing silence this term.
Ron, too fearful to face Lavender Brown's wrath, had decided to hide out with Luna in Ravenclaw Tower, only returning to Gryffindor's common room when he was sure Lavender had gone to bed.
"Thanks, Harry, but my gift wasn't nearly as nice as the gift Lavender got Ron…" she replied, barely containing her laughter.
"You told!?" Ron exclaimed from his high-backed chair.
Harry held up his hands in defense.
"It was Ginny," Hermione explained, her smile widening at the memory of Ginny's hilarious description of the heart necklace Lavender had given Ron. "But I already knew about it actually— Lavender bragged about it before break. By the way, Won-Won, why aren't you wearing it? Not to your taste?"
"I'd rather wear the keeper's helmet Luna gave me," Ron scowled, crossing his arms across his chest in defiance.
"The one with the embroidered radishes?" Harry asked sweetly.
"Yes— the one with the radishes. She could've embroidered a Crumple-Horned Snorcack on there for all I care— it'd still be better than that bleeding necklace—" Ron mumbled.
"You'll have to face her eventually, Ron…" Hermione admonished.
"It's a big castle," Ron replied hopefully.
Harry snorted. "Good luck with that. Just end it, mate. Get it over with."
Hermione found she quite agreed, even if she thought 'ending it' seemed like a rough bit of terminology.
"Speaking of horrible necklaces, Bill really said there's no way he can get rid of Malfoy's necklace?" Ron asked, his long legs dangling over the side of his armchair.
"Not without the potential of killing us both," Hermione replied nonchalantly.
Harry grimaced.
She hadn't told them what else Bill had explained to her about the connection between the necklace and Malfoy's ring, and she certainly had no plans to do so.
"So he thinks Malfoy will just remove it if you ask nicely? Has my brother gone daft—? That was his best idea? I swear this wedding has made him go wonky," Ron scoffed.
"I have a few better ideas on how to handle the slimy git," Harry mumbled darkly, glaring at Hermione's neckline.
"I suppose I could just Imperio him," Hermione added, smirking at the thought of Malfoy under her control.
Ron and Harry gaped at her.
"You've definitely had a little too much alone time, Hermione," Ron said.
"It could work," Harry added, as if seriously reconsidering Hermione's proposal to use the Imperius curse.
Ron scowled."Why don't we just tell McGonagall? Or Dumbledore— they could get Malfoy to remove the necklace—?"
"Bill said the same thing. But don't you think that will only make things worse?" Hermione replied nervously.
Luckily, Harry didn't seem to note the concern in her voice.
"Malfoy will only become more of a prat," Harry agreed, nodding. "Not sure how that's possible at this point, though."
"So you're just going to live with it forever?" Ron asked.
Ron and Harry both stared at her, their eyes wandering to her collar. Impulsively, she brought her fingertips to her neck; she could feel that the platinum and gold chains had tangled together.
"At least it's pretty," Hermione mused dryly.
But then she caught Harry's deep frown and added quickly, and quietly, "Not nearly as nice as the one you gave me, Harry."
/
The new term picked up as if there had been no holiday at all, and hardly a week had passed before the sixth years were again swamped with coursework, plus the newly added stress of Apparition lessons.
Keen to avoid another failure, Hermione and Theo were spending even more time working on Felix Felicis, cramped in the tiny storeroom with their schoolwork and the stacks of Ancient Runes tomes from Greystoke Castle.
But Draco and Hermione were also spending an increasing amount of time together, as their forced partnership in Healing continued both in an out of class with the mounting required homework Professor Tonks continued to assign.
"Your boyfriend is a real bloody prat, you know that?" Draco fumed, unceremoniously dropping his bag to the floor as he roughly tossed the fleshy, and decidedly creepy, animated doll his aunt had given each student pair for practice onto their study table in the Room of Hidden Things.
Hermione winced as it made a sickly crunching sound against the hard surface.
"Firstly, don't you think I know he can be infuriatingly irritating and rash? I've had to live with him every day for the past six years," Hermione said, her anger palpable.
She didn't think Harry was always these things, of course, but he had just used the Half-Blood Prince's book in Potions class again, winning him top marks when he'd used a bezoar when his attempt to brew an antidote had failed miserably; apparently, the Prince's interest in any and every other potion far outweighed his interest in antidotes.
It wasn't so much that Harry had won Slughorn's praise through undeserving means that bothered Hermione— although she could admit she vehemently disagreed with it— but it was Harry's continued use of the book without so much as a second thought about the consequences.
Well, at least winning favor might help him get Slughorn's memory, Hermione considered in an attempt to assuage her own frustration.
Draco smirked lopsidedly in surprise— and appreciation— at Hermione's clear irritation with Harry.
"And secondly?" Draco questioned.
"What—?" Hermione asked, confused.
"You said firstly— which you explained quite adeptly, might I add— but what about secondly?"
"Oh—" Hermione blushed, hiding her face as she searched through her bag. "Secondly, Harry, he— well, nothing."
"Go on," Draco urged, grinning playfully at her clear discomfort. Hermione tried not to think about the way the sight of his smile made her feel, even if it was a bit at her own expense.
"He's not my boyfriend," she muttered hurriedly.
"You have more sense than I give you credit for, Granger," Draco replied before he could stop himself. He suddenly felt as though his mood had turned for the better, even as the disgusting charmed Healing doll groaned and writhed atop the table.
"I would hope so— otherwise that cabinet of yours will never be mended… not to mention you'd be failing Healing."
Hermione glanced at the doll and grimaced. As Professor Tonks had described, it was one thing to mend a grapefruit, and another thing entirely to heal something that was so lifelike.
"Can we get this over with?"
"Gladly," Draco agreed.
They set to work diagnosing and healing the doll, taking turns, both verbally and nonverbally, practicing the spells they'd learned. Draco tried his best not to stare at Hermione when she bit her lip in concentration, and Hermione tried not to glare at Draco's platinum ring— the right she now knew was tracking her.
After the better part of an hour had passed, and after many furtive glances, their doll was looking quite whole again, its pallor fading and its groans transforming into merry little hums.
"Look at that— you two are naturals. Little Draco Junior lives to see another day," Theo announced jovially as he joined them at their study table.
After the holiday, Draco, Theo, and Hermione had formulated a plan to meet inside the Room of Hidden Things without being detected, while still maintaining the ability to use Crabbe or Goyle as a watch; they used Draco's Protean coins (Hermione had been very smug to learn Draco had copied her D.A. coins) to arrange a time to meet. Hermione always arrived first, before Theo or Malfoy brought Crabbe or Goyle along. She always left the room last, after she was sure Theo and Draco had left with Crabbe or Goyle.
So far, the plan was working well. Draco continued erasing— or if the fancy struck him, modifying— Crabbe and Goyle memories. Hermione, eager to practice memory charms herself, had inquired about using Crabbe and Goyle for this purpose, but Draco had refused; there was no way he was going to risk letting on Hermione's involvement.
Draco and Hermione pulled matching faces of horror at Theo's ;Draco Junior' comment.
"Please, Nott, I'm tired… and the doll is bad enough without you calling it—" Hermione sighed.
"—what? Draco Junior? I think it's got a nice ring to it. You must prefer Draco the Second, then… classier, right Draco? Or how about Hermione Junior?"
"Or how about I tear it to shreds and we call it Theo the Dead?" Draco replied.
"Aw, Draco— you'd name your offspring after me? I'm touched."
"Theodead the Dreaded has a better ring to it," Hermione added darkly.
"Now you're thinking, Granger. Someone drank their pumpkin juice this morning…" Theo replied nonplussed, crashing into an overstuffed armchair.
"She's just feeling extra murderous after Potter's little bezoar stunt, aren't you Granger?" Draco grinned; firstly, still pleased at her annoyance with Potter… and secondly, well… secondly certainly had its perks.
"No comment," she replied, hiding her blush behind an Ancient Runes book the size of Gilderoy Lockheart's ego.
"Look— I think I've found something."
Draco strode to her side and Theo looked on from his chair with hopeful curiosity.
"This text explains the aspects of temporal spellwork, and the need for synchronicity. I think we've got to cast this spell—" she pointed to an undecipherable sequence of runes, as if Draco and Theo could understand what it said, "—at the same time as Borgin… and I mean exactly the same time."
This information Hermione shared true, and she did believe it would help repair the cabinets, but she also knew this was only one step of many toward repairing the cabinet. If she was going to gain control of this situation, she had to make sure Theo and Draco believed her, trusted her… as much as was possible without giving up all the answers.
She'd decided to refrain from calling Malfoy out about her new knowledge of his ring, how she knew he could track her whereabouts. She admitted it was an inconvenience, but nothing she couldn't handle… Plus, Hermione reasoned, she and Harry had been doing the same thing to him with the Map for years now.
"What're we waiting for then? Draco, get in touch with Borgin—" Theo said excitedly.
But Draco was more skeptical than Theo when it came to Hermione's leads, and she couldn't blame him for it; she knew she'd certainly be the same if the tables were somehow turned.
Draco didn't trust Hermione, as he knew she didn't trust him, but what gave him the greatest amount of pause with moving forward with any new leads was his knowledge of Greyback's involvement, a fact with Draco loathed; he found the werewolf and his practices disturbing… and the thought that Greyback and Hermione could face one another even more so.
"How can you be so sure?" Draco asked.
"I can't," she replied truthfully. "Not really… I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert. But Mum always told me all you can do is learn as much as you can and make educated choices, and I can make educated guesses better than you and Nott… and that's the best we've got."
I can't argue with that, Draco admitted to himself. He felt as though the feeble thread of hope inside him had been strengthened.
"Your mum's onto something there," Draco admitted.
Hermione did her best to hide her surprise as Theo looked between them knowingly.
"I'll contact Borgin," Draco said resolutely, cringing inwardly, knowing he'd have to contact Borgin via Greyback.
His dealings with the werewolf were most unpleasant, and less than favorable, but Voldemort had insisted upon it, eager to get the werewolf leader— and his savage followers— on his side, and, Draco assumed, to keep a watchful- pressing- eye on the progress with his task.
Draco frowned.
"I think Barnabus' trolls are out there performing 'Swan Lake,' or maybe Weasley's just managed to tie his shoes for the first time on his own… Draco and Granger— actually in agreement? Mum and dad must be doing it for little Draco Junior's sake—"
"Shut up, Theo!" Draco and Hermione exclaimed in unison.
/
A/N: As always, thank you so much for reading!