Thoughts of her conversation with McGonagall kept her busy over the coming days, which stretched on in front of her, seemingly endless as she spent them mostly just wandering the castle and grounds. Her thoughts her only company for now.
Hermione had very nearly walked out of the office as the professor finished speaking, her mood changing first from confusion to shock and then finally to a hot temper which only continued to rise as McGonagall carried on talking.
'You know who,-' she continued taking another sip of coffee, '-no longer has eyes within our school. Lucius Malfoy acting as governor would have given him a direct line to the school and its students. With the head of the Malfoy family in Azkaban, Professor Dumbledore feels the natural replacement for this will be Draco and I am inclined to agree.'
Hermione put her own cup down, suddenly her stomach wasn't feeling so good and she wanted her professor to stop talking now that she was guessing where this was headed.
'I would like you to watch over Draco Malfoy when he returns to the school in September Miss Granger. Discreetly keep a close eye on him, his whereabouts and report anything of concern directly to me.' McGonagall spoke firmly, a speech she had clearly rehearsed now coming from her mouth with a detached ease. 'I don't mean for you to befriend him, I won't ask the impossible...' Hermione stilled, 'You are to do this with as must discretion as possible Miss Granger. If we are correct, he could be extremely dangerous. You must not be caught and I will help you master the skills to avoid that ever happening.'
Hermione had herself become detached from the conversation now. It was too much. Too much to ask of her and too much for her to process in the few minutes she had been given.
'What I am asking can only be done by you, that's simply all there is to it. There's far too much bad blood already between Potter, Weasley and Malfoy, and far too much hatred between them to reassure me neither of them won't wind up in Azkaban themselves if they spent any longer around that boy than they have to. Regardless, as I said we need discretion here and I strongly feel a Blast Ended Skrewt would manage that better than Mr Weasley.'
Though McGonagall was still talking, she was only half listening to her professor now, thoughts racing forty steps ahead of her.
'I would not ask this of you Miss Granger, did I not feel you were up to it. Our sole focus needs to be the safety of all the students at Hogwarts, we cannot deny every student with known familial connections to you-know-who re-entry to the school, but measures must be taken where possible.' McGonagall sighed and readjusted her spectacles on her nose. 'What you learn, any word or whisper, could give us the advantage we need should Hogwarts face a threat from within. And-'
Here the professor paused entirely, regarding Hermione and trying to gage her feelings to what had been presented to her so far. She seemed to decide Hermione could handle a little more uninvited pressure, '-and you could directly help save a young man from walking a path he may or may not want to be on to begin with.'
Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap, taking a few moments to gather herself, as McGonagall walked her through how exactly she could help her accomplish all this.
McGonagall's concern clearly worked both ways, as much as she feared what Malfoy might be planning to do she was also clearly fearful for him as well. Essentially Hermione was not only being asked to keep watch over Malfoy, spy on him from the shadows like some creeping ghoul, but McGonagall wanted to use Hermione because she and Dumbledore were actually concerned for Malfoy's safety as well.
This was where the temper began to surface on Hermione's side.
'Professor, Malfoy and the rest of his house have tormented me every year I've been here. Do you know how much I dread crossing them in the hall if I'm alone? Or being caught anywhere without Harry and Ron with me when they are around? I put on a brave face in front of them all because that's what you're always told to do with bullies like them, but their words still hurt, even when I try my best not to let them.' Her eyes flashed a little thinking of what she had endured from Malfoy for years now.
'You are asking me to walk willingly into a snake pit - literally! And for what- to protect him? I couldn't care less about him, I-' Hermione trailed off. 'I don't want anything bad to happen to anyone at this school professor, and if you want me to do this to protect everyone from him then that's fine. But please-' she felt her eyes strain to keep a few unwanted tears at bay, 'Please don't ask me to protect him. I hate him.'
McGonagall dropped her gaze and seemed to nod with understanding. 'I am sorry to ask this of you. I don't want to see you upset like this.' she sighed. 'Perhaps then, might I suggest you approach this as nothing more than keeping your enemies close Miss Granger?'
'I understand that Professor but-' Hermione's eyes darted around frantically. She hoped that a viable excuse to get her politely but firmly out of this request would drop from the sky. Of course one didn't and she just trailed off, letting the empty objection hang in the air.
'You will not be forced into something you do not feel comfortable with Miss Granger. We, myself and Dumbledore, understand what we are asking of you and should you say no, that will be the end of it...'
McGonagall turned in her seat to regard Hermione, ensuring she understood the sincerity in her tone when she next spoke. 'And I must stress, we could be mistaken, nothing could come of this..' McGonagall leaned forward to place a gentle hand over Hermione's that were clasped tightly in her lap, she hadn't even noticed her fingernails had begun to dig into her palms. 'But I must also stress that in doing this for us all, you could make all the difference.'
Afterwards, she had left with a few spare Mandrake leaves, a new book tucked under her arm, a bitter aftertaste from the coffee and a stomach that felt ready to drop and trip her up as she walked back up to the Gryffindor tower.
She had agreed in the end, of course she had. Hermione would never turn down a request if it meant helping someone, it was her Achilles and she knew it. She tried to do what McGonagall had said and focus on the good she could do. If they were right and Draco would be Voldemort's way into the school, either directly or through Draco's actions then they needed to be prepared. If Voldemort wanted a puppet within these walls then they would need any information on what strings he planned to pull.
As she fell asleep in her dorm that night, Hermione pictured the masked death eaters they had faced in the Ministry, many of their names and faces she did not know and was grateful for that. Lucius on the other hand was another matter entirely. Seeing the usually aristocratic Malfoy, dressed as death personified still shook her, even though Harry had already told them well before that point what Lucius really was and who he served, so she had been prepared for it. Seeing it brought to life in a wizard she had known before this all started was what had shocked her. It had felt like she knew him from another life, which in a way she supposed she did. The Lucius that stood before Harry, imploring him to hand over the prophecy, with his white hair curtaining his expressionless face, was a ghost. He didn't seem to be a real person.
With her eyes closed Hermione couldn't help reimagining the same scene but this time as the masks of the death eaters fell away there was not a single twisted face she did not recognise.
Crabbe.. Goyle.. Nott.. Bulstrode.. Parkinson.. Zambini... They all looked liked death personified, each set of eyes cold and unseeing.
She pictured Lucius Malfoy's outstretched hand beckon again to Harry from the shadows and, though it was still his voice that implored Harry to do as he said, when he fully came into the light of Harry's wand it was Draco's face she saw illuminated beneath the short curtain of his pale blond hair.
Hermione tried her best to banish that image of Draco from her mind but found it had embedded itself deep in her consciousness. She closed her eyes tight and tried to remove him from her thoughts but found the more she did the deeper that image dug its roots until she half believed if she opened her eyes she would still see those cold, calculating grey eyes bearing down on her.
The next few days passed in the same monotonous pattern. Every morning the house elves would set her out a generous breakfast tray up on the large table in the common room. Hermione was grateful for this as it saved her legs the trip up and down to the great hall and, as a novelty at school, she got to eat it in her pyjamas.
Weather dependant, she then grabbed her bag of books and headed to either the lake or the library, the day then only broken up by lunch and some days a visit to Hagrid's to help with his creatures in the afternoon.
The evenings she spent in the common room, either knitting or practicing some of the charms they would be due to learn that year. More often than not she ended up wandering down to the prefects bathroom for a hot bath before bed, letting the water loosen any knots in her muscles and staying in until her fingers resembled prunes.
Tucked back up in bed afterwards, she would take some time to read up what she could to help with the other part of her other assignment from McGonagall. It was a complex potion and needed to be brewed not only absolutely perfectly, but because of the next steps she needed to take before drinking it the timing needed to be flawless.
There was a severe storm predicted for the second week of September and, all being well, it would hit them the same night as the full moon. If it did both she and the potion would be ready.
McGonagall had already prepared the phial for her which was hidden under her bed along with a strand of her hair, the remaining ingredients being kept safely with Snape in his supply cupboard. McGonagall would be with her to help the night of the storm as Hermione understood the first transformation could be both frightening and incredibly uncomfortable.
She knew from speaking to both Remus and Sirius some of what to expect, although she was half hoping they had exaggerated the experience in the hopes of dissuading Harry, Ron and Hermione from attempting it in the future. If so, it had worked. She couldn't recall a time any of the three of them had even discussed attempting it.
Probably for the best, Hermione struggled to imagine Ron would have the patience to even complete the first stage.
She had charmed her mandrake leaf to shrink and affix itself to the roof of her mouth, McGonagall had said this was the best way to ensure she didn't accidentally swallow or spit it out but would still keep the ingredient intact until it was needed. They would reverse the charm when the time came, reverting it back to the size needed for the potion.
The days slowly trickled by and Hermione had already completed almost all the reading she could for the year ahead. She had circled back around her books and was now revisiting her copy of Bilshen, this time to annotate and note ahead any questions she had for Professor Babbling at the start of term.
The teachers began to return to the castle after a week or so passed. Snape was one of the first. He did not greet her so much as barely incline his head as he passed her in the courtyard one afternoon, luggage slowly floating behind him and his cloak billowing in his wake. He had tucked under his arm a folded paper, and she glimpsed Harry and Dumbledore in front of the press at the Ministry, cameras brightly flashing against their set faces. Harry looked like he was barley holding himself to stand and she suspected would not be were it not for Dumbledore's arm that had supported him as they faced the onslaught of questions, flashes and noise together.
She had missed her friends this summer, dearly. Ron and her relationship was starting to become some new, tentatively and slowly but it was changing every year. Moving away from the brotherly love she had always had for him into something that felt a little more foreign but not altogether wrong.
Harry on the other hand was someone she admittedly loved completely, but who she knew she would never actually fall in love with. He was her brother, by each other's side even even when her and Ron had fought, which merlin knew had happened enough times over the years. Harry was always supporting, never judging. She loved Harry with all her heart and knew she would struggle to keep her secret from him this year. Ron would be easy, she would just imagine the confused way his eyebrows would migrate up his forehead as she told him about Malfoy, and knew the exact scoff he would make if she told him she had been asked to spy on the Slytherin.
Harry on the other hand would want to be involved, would all too easily believe Dumbledore's theory, in fact she would have bet he was probably was already thinking along those lines himself. Knowing how he already felt about Malfoy and after what had happened to Lucius Hermione expected Harry to have a close eye on Draco himself.
And yet she would need to keep an even closer watch still. Malfoy was an arrogant sod, they all knew that. He would probably want to boast if he had been initiated into the death eaters before the rest of his lot, that much was a given, but she knew he would fear Voldemort and if Draco Malfoy had been asked to be the dark lord's eyes in school she expected he would be wanting to keep that to himself for his own protection. Hermione highly doubted Voldemort would have entrusted Draco to do anything on his behalf by acting recklessly.
Slytherins were known to be cunning, it was known. She would have to be even more so.
As August came to a close, she began to wrap up into a cosy cardigan for her morning visits to the lake. The morning dew on the grass was already starting to glow with the first drops of a cool end of the summer.
The weather was starting to take a turn and she half expected the storm to come any day now, not in two weeks time when she needed it to.
She was sat under one of the large oak trees, coffee flask at her hip and book resting on her knees which she had pulled up almost to her chest, when she heard a voice call out from behind her.
'-Hermione?' the slightly puzzled face Neville Longbottom came into view as she glanced over her book. 'Hermione!' He said more enthusiastically, making his way down to her spot as she discarded the book to the side, standing instantly to give him a huge hug.
'Hey Neville! So good to see you, you're looking well..' Hermione said, taking in her friend's appearance. He seemed to become more of a man each year, towering over her and she could instantly see he'd had yet another growth spurt over the summer. 'I'm pretty sure you've outgrown the rest of us now,' she laughed.
He nodded smiling, 'Yeah, Gran said the same, said I'm probably taller than my dad when he was my age. I'm so happy you're here, I know it's only a few days until the start of school but I was worried I'd be completely alone and Professor Sprout is still in Peru so I can't even get into the Greenhouses, I hope nothing needed too much looking after while she was gone-' he talked so fast she began wonder when he planned to pause for breath.
'I was going to ask Hagrid if he a key to her stores but I can't find him anywhere either and I'd rather not go looking for Filch, he confiscated my cactus last year and daren't ask for it back yet.. Why are you back so soon anyway?' Finally, he paused.
'Getting in for some early studying, there's a chance I might get to sit my exams early next year,' Hermione admitted, hoping her voice had just the right level of enthusiasm for the lie.
Neville shook his head laughing, 'Christ Hermione, not fancy an easy year for a change?'
She smiled and shrugged, 'Not really in my nature to take it easy,'
He laid his jacket down on the grass to use as a blanket, took a seat and together they spent the rest of the morning catching up. She offered him some coffee from her flask and some cherry biscuits she had brought down with her for a mid-morning snack which he accepted eagerly.
Neville told her how his grandmother's health had taken a wobble over the last few months, which it sounded a lot like he was blaming himself for. He said that while she had initially boasted to everyone they knew about how brave her grandson had been to take on death eaters at the Ministry, the pride had soon turned to a delayed aftershock of worry for him and she had made him promise again and again he would keep his head down for his last few years at school. She wanted him in the greenhouse and out of trouble. They had been out at a market when she had collapsed suddenly. While she was fine now, the St Mungo's staff wanted to keep her in with them for at least another week or two while they monitored her. It had been only a few days until Neville was due back at school anyway, so at his grandmother's insistence McGonagall, acting as deputy headmistress, had allowed Neville to return to school early so as not to leave him without a guardian at home.
Hermione in turn told him about the letter from McGonagall and explained why she had been brought back so soon. She had decided it would be safer to stick to one lie for everything, if she needed a cover for the time she would be spending away from her friends this year it would be more than believable for her to convince her friends she was simply cramming in her studies. It gave her an excuse to stay out late and disappear for hours at a time. If anyone questioned her, the response of 'studying' wouldn't cause them to bat an eye and technically it was only a half lie.
Together her and Neville spent a surprisingly pleasant few days by the lake, he with his herbology books and she with books on practically everything else.
Then, on the last day of August the rain started. The tree above them gave some much needed shelter from it but Neville's sandwiches, which he'd left outside of the cover of leaves and branches, were soaked into mulch. He groaned in frustration and Hermione couldn't help chuckle at the relief on his face when she pulled out hers from her bag to offer him half. They sat, their backs against the tree, and made plans to visit Hogsmeade for dinner that evening. It would make a nice change of scenery before term started the following day and they both felt like they had earned a treat.
It would be nice, she thought, to have a quick shop around Hogsmeade as well before dinner. Without the usual bustling queues of students to push past she might enjoy it for a change, and her weakness for chocolate meant Neville wasn't the only one looking forward to a trip to Honeyduke's.
As she dressed for dinner that evening, she wound her hair back into a soft low bun and added some silver earrings simply because she felt like it. She brushed a few stray curls out of her face to the sides watching the jewellery twinkle away in the sunlight. She wore a simple linen dress, one of her favourites, that fell just to her knees. The air had grown muggy and warm after the rain that afternoon and she wanted something.
Neville met her in the common room, he had been reading that day's Prophet and was scoffing at something in the 'News Around the World' pages when Hermione rested against the sofa arm, 'Ready?' she asked. He simply nodded and placed the paper back onto the table, it was the Minister for magic's face she saw.
'They're pushing immigration overseas,' he muttered as they headed through the portrait and down the stairs. 'Looks like they think we should be running scared. Honestly, where are their heads at?' Hermione agreed with him. They would need numbers in the war ahead, and the Ministry needed to realise that. Unless, which Hermione suspected, they were deluded into thinking there was no war, that Voldemort would simply carry on his work gathering an army from the shadows without actually thinking about what Voldemort would do with his numbers.
Neville was still looking disgruntled when they met Hagrid in the courtyard outside, but his smile soon returned when he saw who was with him.
'Professor!' Neville beamed. Professor Sprout was looking engrossed in something Hagrid was telling her, she did a double take when she saw Hermione and Neville making their way towards them.
'Mr Longbottom, Miss Granger... what a surprise!' She smiled at them both, 'I haven't even had time to clean out the greenhouse yet Mr Longbottom, I'm afraid last year's Venomous Tentacular have perished in the summer heat, the watering can I left with them decided to lock itself in my store cupboard. The place absolutely reeks..'
'I'll be down first thing in the morning Professor!' Neville promised, his face splitting into a huge smile at the prospect of heading back to his favourite part of the castle early the next day.
Saying goodbye to Sprout, the three of them made tracks. Hagrid had agreed to walk with them down to Hogsmeade, he was meeting a few of the teachers later for a drink at The Three Broomsticks and was happy to set off a little early so they could leave the grounds. Whilst McGonagall was keen for the two students to have a bit of free time to themselves outside the school, she was equally insistent that they not be left unsupervised on the long walk down to the village.
As the woods and rolling country lane made way for the welcome sigh of Hogsmeade Village, Hagrid left them to it and promised to meet them in the same place a few hours later for the walk back.
Neville eagerly headed straight for Dogweed and Deathcap, Hermione in tow. She hoped they wouldn't be long looking at the all the plants in there, her stomach was already growling. However, Neville's face as he reached for a basket told her they likely would be and she decided now might be a good time to think up an excuse to head somewhere more up her street.
'Neville, I'm just going to head to Scrinvenshaft's ok? Have a feeling I may have packed a little light on quills this year,'
'Yeah sure thing, meet you at the Inn?' He said, not taking his eyes off the leaves of the garishly purple plant he was inspecting
'Perfect.'
As she left the shop Hermione felt the warm rays of the late afternoon sun softly hitting her skin again and wondered idly if they could grab one of the tables outside in the Hog's Head garden if the evening was going to stay this pleasant.
Absentmindedly, she ran her tongue across the leaf held firmly in place on the roof of her mouth, feeling its small grooves and reminded herself it wouldn't be too much longer until she could finally spit it out. Though, truth be told, she had pretty much gotten used to the feel of it in there now and no longer had to take her time eating and drinking as carefully as she dare in case it was accidentally swallowed.
She took a fair amount of time selecting 3 new quills from Scrivenshaft's and chatted with the owner about some new ink pots he was considering stocking, before waving goodbye and heading to the inn to meet Neville. She had given him at least half an hour with his plants, so assumed he wouldn't be too far behind her if he wasn't there already.
There were some tables set up outside that looked to still have a few more hours in the sun that afternoon, so she picked one in view of the shops so Neville would easily spot her, and waited.
There was a slow but steady stream of people passing up and down the street, most shops seemed by be getting everything in order ahead of the arrival of the students the following day. Looking over at Honeyduke's, she could see Mr Flume stressfully rearranging his window display over and over.
Neville she could have spotted a mile away. He was making his way up the street, a new plant carefully bundled into a crate he carried in his arms like a baby.
'Abyssinian Shrivelfig!' he announced proudly, setting the plant by his feet and taking a seat opposite Hermione.
'Don't we have those in the greenhouses? I remember pruning them years ago.'
'We do but this is for my gran. She loves the colour, I'm going to grow it as best I can at school and take it home to plant at Christmas break, it has really strong roots so it should take to my gran's garden even in winter. She hates flowers but I don't think this counts.' He shrugged and Hermione gave it an appraising once over.
'Very thoughtful of you Neville,' she said.
They decided to order a round of butterbeer before dinner, which they both eagerly downed within a few minutes, and chatted about the next day. Neville was going to be spending most of it with Sprout outside in the greenhouses which left Hermione to her own devices and a final day of peace before the boats and carriages would begin to arrive later on in the evening.
She and Neville had only spent a few days together but had comfortably fell into a daily routine and she was sad for it to come to an end, although the buzz of the common room would be a nice distraction for her thoughts once it was brimming full of noisy housemates again.
Hermione leaned back comfortably in her chair as the sun started its long descent in the sky, Neville had just gone up to order their food when she was surprised to feel someone standing behind her.
'Enjoying your date Granger?' came the pointed, malicious drawl of Draco Malfoy's voice.
A/N: Thanks again for reading. Next up, we'll finally have a reunion of our favourite trio - plus the rest of that conversation..