Part 3: Alliance
"nothing beautiful…without struggle." – Plato, the Republic
Hogsmeade/Hogwarts
November 12, 2006
Hermione shifted nervously, her hand unconsciously touching the silk of her new robes, feeling uncomfortable in the baggy cover up.
"You look lovely," Millicent told her with a warm smile as Hermione stepped off of the small pedestal.
"It feels strange, like I'm wearing a bathrobe or something." Hermione tried walking back and forth but found herself constantly tripping.
"Here," Millicent interjected, and with a quick wave of her wand the robes were a few inches shorter, allowing Hermione to walk normally.
"Oh, that's much better!" Hermione smiled. She had found in her brief time in Hogsmeade, she was quite impressed by the casual use of magic. She would never have dreamt of using a spell rather than needle and thread to hem a dress, but here it was instinctual. She made a mental note to ask Ginny if this was a witch thing or perhaps the result of living in a purely magical society. Having known she was a witch for only a few weeks, she was not quite in a position to judge.
After Draco and Hermione arrived in Hogsmeade the day before, Voldemort had 'kindly' given her the day to get her bearings and to procure some proper clothes. Draco had arranged for her to stay with his friend Millicent Bulstrode, since apparently it would have been improper for her to stay at Draco's, what with his pending nuptials.
Millicent had been something of a surprise to Hermione – not nearly as haughty as Draco when they first met and with the patience of a saint. She had offered to take Hermione shopping so here they were, finding her clothes that were deemed appropriate. Because tonight Hermione would be dining with the Dark Lord.
"How do you all exercise in robes?" Hermione asked, trying in vain to do a few squats.
Millicent looked at her oddly and shrugged. "We don't really? Some play Quidditch, I guess."
Hermione nodded; this reminder of just how little she knew about the inner workings of the Death Eaters left her anxious. While she understood ahead of time that going to Hogwarts would be a bit of a gambit, she still felt out of her element, even more so than when she had been on the run. At least then, she felt like she had a modicum of control and a basic understanding of social etiquette. But this felt like a foreign country.
And the most ridiculous aspect of her short time in Hogsmeade was how much she found herself missing Draco. They had been apart less than 18 hours, and she couldn't stop thinking about the man. She wasn't sure if she was more concerned that she had turned into a love sick teenager, or that perhaps the events of the last month had made them uncomfortably co-dependent.
They walked out of the store, giving the shopkeeper a quick nod on the way out. Hermione had been told that Voldemort would take care of any expenses required which was – creepy.
"Do you need anything else?" Millicent asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Do I?"
She still didn't know exactly how she was going to go about completing their task. She had made a laundry list of what she wantedto do. She wanted – needed – to explore Hogwarts, find the nexus, and hopefully find some way to communicate with the Hogwarts magic itself.
She was also hoping to use this time and the lack of regulation to practice her witchcraft. And of course, she was hoping to spend time in the Hogwarts library. She understood from Draco and Sirius that it put the Black library to shame, so she could only imagine the tomes waiting for her there.
Millicent gave Hermione a soft smile and led her back to her home, located only a few doors down from Draco's. They lived in a small neighborhood full of nearly identical houses, which Hermione believed were built, or perhaps transfigured, specifically for this generation when they came of age. There was a certain level of equity to Death Eater society – well, in that everyone was equal except for the Dark Lord.
Hermione shook herself, trying to get used to referring to Voldemort as the Dark Lord, both out loud as well as in her head. Since, as Draco mentioned, the man happened to be an accomplished Legilimens and could read her mind, though Draco assured her that it required prolonged eye contact.
"Millie!" A shout brought Hermione back to the present as two men approached them.
"Greg." Millicent turned to introduce them. "Hermione, this is Greg Goyle and Theo Nott." Hermione's eyes lit up in recognition; of particular interest was Theo, who featured prominently in Draco's stories, though she was taking everything Draco had previously told her about Hogsmeade with a grain of salt. Greg gave her an odd sort of nod, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Theo gave her a boisterous smile and put out his hand in greeting. "It's lovely to meet you. Draco told me all about you," he said it in such a salacious way, Hermione found herself inadvertently turning red.
"You too." She shook his hand and took a few calming breaths, hoping to clear the blush from her neck. "It's lovely to finally meet Draco's friends."
Greg awkwardly ran off to the apothecary, but Theo chose to escort them to Millie's house. Hermione found the whole ordeal felt odd and somewhat contrived.
"So, how are you liking it in Hogsmeade?" Theo asked. He was nothing like she imagined but at the same time completely like how Draco described. He was tall and lanky; his face was plain until he smiled or laughed, showing off dimples and a certain level of mischievousness in his eyes. He wore thick glasses and had incredibly luscious brown hair which she noticed he enjoyed whipping back. She imagined he was quite the heartbreaker – or would be in a world where there were options.
"It's interesting," Hermione responded honestly. "It's fascinating to see how you all use magic for everything so seamlessly."
Theo smiled, shaking his head. "It's great here. I can't imagine living outside of this place. Draco told me how heavily regulated magic is out there." He shivered, literally shivered at the thought, and Hermione had to blink to avoid rolling her eyes.
"Well, to be honest I don't really know the difference. I only just learned I was a witch recently and, given Draco and I were on the run from the organization I worked for, I didn't even have the luxury of using magic like typical witches and wizards," Hermione explained.
She and Draco had worked out a version of their story that was close enough to the truth that it would hopefully hold up under scrutiny. As far as the Death Eaters were concerned, Hermione felt betrayed by the Corps for their dishonesty about her magic and memories, and was thus willing to go with Draco to Hogwarts. They had left out the fact that Hermione remembered that the Death Eaters had tortured her parents as well as Hermione's own role in the Event. They assumed, however, based on Voldemort's interpretation of the prophecy, that he was aware of both.
One of the advantages of thisstory was it allowed Hermione to be curious and uncertain – they knew it was unrealistic for her to claim she had suddenly turned against the WEA and everything it entailed. This way, Voldemort – the Dark Lord she reminded herself – would hopefully feel somewhat obligated to indulge her questions. They were counting on the bit of the prophecy that referred to the 'power to choose,' and hoped that the Dark Lord was planning to woo Hermione to his side.
"It must have been strange, growing up and living with Muggles," Theo remarked with a slightly disgusted look on his face that he made little effort to hide.
Hermione shrugged. "I didn't really know the difference," she explained neutrally. "Did I say or do something to offend Greg?" She frowned, turning to Millicent.
Millicent was about to speak but snapped her mouth shut, turning to Theo as he laughed. "He's not really comfortable around you because you're a Mudblood."
Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself. That was another thing she was going to have to get used to – blatant prejudice. She learned the word from Voldemort himself yesterday, who chuckled as he assured her that they made an exception to their typical 'kill first, ask questions later' philosophy in regards to Mudbloods for her.
That was in itself quite alarming, but then Voldemo– the Dark Lord – clarified that he didn't genuinely believe that Hermione was one. Rather, he suspected some sort of foul play or mix up at birth. Hermione felt, based on her understanding of genetics and science, that the Dark Lord was being delusional, but she simply smiled and said she would love to hear more of his theories.
As they approached Millie's house, Hermione caught sight of Draco pacing outside the front door. He had somehow magically re-grown his hair, and this, along with his pitch-black robes, brought back to mind the memory of finding him in the woods. But this time as she approached, his face softened and he gave her the faintest of smiles.
"Granger," he greeted her. It was a sort of code they had designed, whereby amongst the Death Eaters they would refer to one another by their surnames. It was Draco's idea - a way to remind her that while Malfoy may act one way, it wasn't real.
"Malfoy," she responded, keeping her tone neutral. She felt her heart race irrationally and reminded herself she had seen him just the day before.
"Nice robes." He smirked, knowing just how she felt about wizarding fashions, both their appearance and impracticality.
"Thank you," she answered, narrowing her eyes.
His eyes twinkled in amusement. "I thought you might enjoy a tour of the castle before dinner."
Her previous annoyance faded. "Yes, of course," she told him, saying goodbye to Millicent and a 'lovely to meet you' to Theo.
"How are you doing?" Draco asked, further softening, his hand discreetly brushing against her back. She exhaled, feeling comforted by his touch.
"Alright. Millicent truly is lovely. I really appreciate you convincing her to let me stay with her. We - uh - ran into Greg and Theo," she explained.
"Did Greg say something to you?" He frowned.
"No. He just kind of nodded at me and left." She shrugged. "Theo informed me it's because I'm a 'Mudblood'."
He winced at her use of the word. It was a point of debate the night before. Once the Dark Lord had called her a Mudblood, she had begun using it as a self-descriptor, finding the concept of magicals born of non-magicals having mud in their veins utterly absurd. Draco chastised her, informing her it was derogatory and she shouldn't use the word.
"So, you've never said 'Mudblood' before?" Hermione had asked.
"Of course! But I wasn't talking about you!" he explained.
"Who were you talking about then?" she asked.
"I was talking about theoretical witches and wizards born of a non-magical lineage."
"Yes. And I would qualify as such," she pointed out.
"But you're missing the point!" he bit back.
"Am I?"
"Yes! It has a negative connotation," he explained.
She had smiled. "And now you don't feel that way?"
Draco mumbled, "Yes."
She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "Of course you don't. It's a silly word – I don't plan to use it excessively but I won't be afraid of it."
"What'd you think of Theo?" Draco asked.
"Somehow, he's both nothing like I expected but also exactly how you described," she explained with a hint of a smile.
He stopped, grabbing her arm just as they were approaching the castle. "Be careful around him."
"What?"
"I went to see him this morning. Apparently he's been receiving quite a bit of attention from the Dark Lord," Draco explained.
Hermione frowned. "Is that – unusual?"
His gaze shifted to the ground. "He was bragging. Before I left Hogwarts, I was more or less considered the leader of our generation's Death Eaters."
She found the revelation fascinating, and given what she knew of Draco's intelligence, she wasn't entirely surprised. "Is that why you were sent to retrieve me?"
He nodded. "Yes, or so I assume. Anyway, it seems in my absence, Theo's taken my place. Just – he seems different."
"Are you sure it's him?" she asked quietly, watching him carefully.
"What do you mean?" he questioned, shifting uncomfortably.
She felt confident he knew. "Just, you're quite different from the man I found passed out in my woods over a month ago. Perhaps it's not so much your friend who has changed, but you who are different."
He looked ready to rebuke her point, but the front doors to Hogwarts opened abruptly and a man gracefully walked out. Based on his long blonde locks, pale complexion, and overall haughty demeanor,Hermione assumed this to be Lucius Malfoy.
"Father," Draco started, "may I introduce Hermione Granger." That was yet another oddity of this place – everything was proper. Other than Draco's peers, every time she met someone it was a proper introduction. She wondered if perhaps Voldemort – the Dark Lord – had read a Jane Austen novel and used it for developing the etiquette for his society.
Though she had to admit, from her limited research into the subject, it seemed more likely this was commonplace amongst magicals from before the Event. She was simply unfamiliar with it, since the magicals she encountered in the WEA had long assimilated to living with non-magicals.
"It's lovely to meet you," he stated, his face perfectly neutral as he reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. She considered it an incredible feat of strength that she was able to keep a straight face throughout the whole ordeal.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well." Hermione smiled.
"Father, I have promised Ms. Granger a tour of the castle prior to dinner. I trust I will see you there?"
"Of course. Do enjoy yourselves," he said with a glint of something that implied 'but not too much.' Hermione wondered what, if anything, Lucius suspected.
Draco and Hermione walked inside the Great Hall; she was quite relieved the Dark Lord was not waiting for them this time. She took in the space, imagining it filled with students but not quite able to envision it. As it was, the room had a few round tables and a large space that looked like a dance floor. Chandeliers sprinkled the top of the ceiling in an overly elaborate manner.
Hermione frowned. "I thought the ceiling was bewitched?" she asked, recalling the information from Hogwarts, a History, which she had liberated from the Black library.
Draco grimaced. "It hasn't been bewitched for ten years."
She nodded and catalogued the discrepancy. As a whole, she found the castle to be eerily quiet. A few staircases creaked as they moved – she remembered Draco said the staircases used to move but had stopped – and a few portraits made comments as they passed, though for the most part the frames were empty or their inhabitants perfectly still. The echo of Draco and Hermione's footsteps surrounded them, a permanent 'boom boom boom' that gave an entirely unnatural feel to the castle.
"These are the dungeons, where the Slytherin students lived." Draco opened a massive door and showed her around what appeared to be a large and long unused living room. She coughed from the layers of dust and lack of proper ventilation.
"This is my favorite thing." He showed her the glass wall that connected to the Black Lake. Only a few fish were visible; Draco had noted no marine life had been seen in at least a dozen years. Hermione considered what kind of spell work had been required to create the glass wall, given that the volume of water in the lake meant the thin glass was likely violating the laws of physics.
"So, kids really got sorted into houses? And that's who they had all of their classes with?" Hermione asked as they left the dungeons and continued.
Draco shrugged. "I guess. My dad and some of the older generation will talk about it from time to time – nearly all of them were in Slytherin. Obviously, there weren't enough kids around my age to even justify splitting us up," he explained. "How does school work in the WEA?"
Hermione considered how best to describe it. "There are a variety of school options – there are magic schools, non-magic schools, and some hybrid schools, which have been recently gaining in popularity. But for the most part, you have classes with all sorts of students regardless of 'personal attributes.'
"I've heard of some of the more elite schools dividing kids up like the Hogwarts houses, but I can't personally imagine what that would be like. Though, I suppose it would allow for instant friendships to form..." she trailed off, considering how lonely she had been through her secondary school years, and thought twice on judging the ritual.
"I'm sure you would have been in Ravenclaw had you been a student here," he told her with a smirk.
"Is that the studious one?"
"Yes, all a bunch of nerds," he teased.
"I would have fit right in," she said almost longingly. "Where would you have been?"
"Slytherin of course."
"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Of course. Cunning, Pure-blood, where else could I have gone?" Draco argued.
"Oh, I was just thinking about how brave you were leaving everything you knew to come find me," she said playfully.
"Ha ha. Funny," he drawled.
"What would we have been like?" she asked, smiling as they continued their tour. "We would have been in school around the same time I imagine."
Draco grinned at her indulgently. "Honestly, I have no idea."
"Oh–" she nodded, giving him a slight smile. "I bet we would have been great friends." She beamed at him, biting her lip slightly and just wishing she could grab his elbow or touch him in some way.
He must have been feeling the same; his eyes darted left to right, and he led her into what appeared to be a long disused classroom. He wordlessly locked the door and closed the space between them, pushing her into a large desk.
He leaned down and kissed her, long and slow, like it had been a long time. It sparked something in her, the feel of his lips pushing into hers, his torso flush against her own. She clung to his robes, lightly biting his lower lip and pressing her tongue against his. Draco sighed, his hands lingering over her arse and attempting to draw lines up her sides before he grunted in frustration.
"These things are awful," he whispered to her, yanking at her robe.
She laughed and met his forehead with her own. "We probably shouldn't be doing this here."
He sighed. "I know, but for some reason the fact that it's forbidden makes me want it all the more."
She straightened herself out, ignoring the flush in her cheeks and the distinct feeling of not being satisfied. He did the same and opened the door for her. "So that was where they taught Charms," he said, louder than necessary, looking around surreptitiously.
"Fascinating." She smiled innocently.
"Indeed."
The other guests were already present when Draco and Hermione arrived, standing and chatting in a way that she could only describe as awkwardly amiable. Volde – the Dark Lord – had the honor of introducing Astoria to Hermione and Draco, making the point that Astoria, like Hermione, had grown up in that horrid world outside of the Death Eaters' piece of land and perhaps could become fast friends.
Adding to the generalawkwardness of the meal was the fact that this was Draco and Astoria's first time meeting. Hermione found the entire situation somewhat unbearable, in part because she didn't think much of arranged marriages, but mostly because she still found her gaze lingering on Draco's lips and dwelling on his confession to her their last night in Cambridge.
Dinner was an – interesting affair. The table had been set for five – an uncomfortably intimate gathering which the Dark Lord assured her was for 'her comfort.' The man himself sat at the head. Lucius Malfoy sat to his right and Hermione, much to her discomfort, was seated to his left. Astoria Greengrass, Draco's betrothed, sat to her left with Draco seated across.
Hermione, having spent a reasonable amount of time with Harry Potter watching the news crucify Daphne Greengrass, found the resemblance between the two girls striking. Like Daphne, Astoria had blonde hair, though hers stopped at her shoulders. She held herself with a sort of easy confidence that Daphne seemed to have as well. Though from the little that Harry had mentioned of Astoria, she seemed to romanticizethis way of life, whereas Daphne was quite progressive and vocally supportive of cooperation with non-magicals.
Hermione realized, as she tried to follow the Dark Lord and Lucius' conversation, that this must have been how Draco felt when they were all in Cambridge and she and Ginny discussed Corps gossip. She could understand the words they were saying, but the people and places involved meant nothing to her. She finally gave up and watched Astoria and Draco's interactions with a sort of detached interest.
"Draco, I understand that you were just in the WEA," Astoria brought up.
"Yes." Draco's voice was clear and held the arrogance Hermione had associated with his 'Malfoy' persona. "It was quite the experience. It seems that witches and wizards there have it quite difficult."
Hermione watched Astoria blink, before swallowing her soup and responding. "Of course. It is very different there. It's quite liberating to be able to use magic at leisure here." It was a good response, Hermione thought, honest but at the same time one that would appease the typical Death Eater.
"It is. You should try riding a broom if you ever get a chance to. It's quite exhilarating," Draco suggested – or, perhaps offered?
"Oh, certainly." Astoria gave him a demure smile.
"Ms. Granger." Hermione whipped her head to the right in response to the Dark Lord. "How are you finding our little slice of paradise?" he sneered in a way that she supposed was his attempt at a smile.
"Oh, it's quite fascinating, sir," she said, not quite comfortable yet calling him 'my lord.' "I'm quite impressed with what you've been able to create here with such a limited number of witches and wizards. The ability to ensure a stable food supply is quite a feat – let alone the diversity of ecology I've noticed." The Dark Lord looked pleased, and Hermione noticed that Lucius's lip quirked.
The Dark Lord responded, "I'm glad to hear you are enjoying yourself, my dear."
Hermione inwardly cringed at the affectation. She had not actually indicated she was enjoying herself, only mentioned that the place was fascinating,but she chose not to correct the mad wizard.
"Tell me, how does Hogwarts compare to your… former home?"
"Oh, it's so difficult to compare," she started, prepared for this question. "See, since I learned I'm a witch, I've been on the run. Although, from my limited experience as a witch, I have to say, it's quite nice to have the freedom to use magic at will here," she explained with a sweet smile.
The Dark Lord blinked. "Yes, Draco explained how you were lied to and your magic withheld. I'm not surprised. Muggles are horrible, foul creatures. They don't understand magic or our ways," he said in a way that could probably be described as kind, relative to his other tones at least. It appeared that the Dark Lord had assumed it was the non-magicals who removed Hermione's powers, but she figured it was probably better to keep him ignorant of the truth.
"It was quite traumatic to find out as I did. I've often wondered what my life would have been like had I known I was magical," she told him sadly.
He gave her a pitying nod. Suddenly, their plates disappeared and were replaced by some sort of beef dish. "Do you know why you are here?" the Dark Lord asked, a small bit of the juice from his rare steak dripping down his lower lip in a completely horrific manner.
"Not quite," she lied. "Draco told me that you learned what was done to me and he had been sent to come help me."
The Dark Lord nodded. "Yes." Liar, she thought. "There's a bit more to it than that. I believe you, singularly, have the ability to help restore magical might to what it once was."
"Me?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide. She wondered if it would be appropriate for her to faint.
"Yes. I agree, I too was surprised." The Dark Lord looked at her with a sort of menacing snarl, but, like all of his facial expressions, she couldn't be quite sure of its intent.
She waited, expecting him to follow up, but he didn't.
"What is expected of me?" she asked.
"It isn't quite clear yet, my dear. But in the meantime, I think it would be valuable for you to learn what you can. It was quite tragic that you were cheated out of a proper magical education. Of course, so many outside of our little niche are, including the lovely Astoria here." He looked fondly at the blonde woman, though his 'looking fondly' could only be described as, again, creepy.
"I would very much enjoy the opportunity to learn here." Hermione did her best to beam.
The Dark Lord smiled. "It's lovely to see that sort of love of learning. I feel your generation is always looking for shortcuts." He clicked his tongue.
"Yes, it's quite reprehensible," Hermione replied.
"Well, then, it's settled. One of our most capable instructors, Amycus Carrow, will be your tutor. You shall meet him here, in the Great Hall, each day at 9am," he instructed her in an overly elaborate fashion.
Hermione was suddenly nervous, vaguely recalling Draco describing what he learned. Would they attempt to brainwash her? But this also meant that she would have the opportunity to come to Hogwarts every day.
The steak dish magically vanished and a small slice of treacle tart appeared in front of her. She practically sighed in relief; the evening was almost over.
"So Astoria," Hermione overheard Lucius ask the woman. "Where are you staying?"
"Oh, our Lord has kindly allowed me to stay in what will be Draco's and my home once we're married," Astoria answered, smiling brilliantly.
The Dark Lord interjected, "Of course. They will be married in a month, after all. This way, she'll be able to make sure the furnishings are agreeable before Draco moves in."
Hermione froze, her fork an inch from her mouth. Completely ignoring the utter sexism inherent to the Dark Lord's statement, there it was again: the stark reminder that Draco was getting married. In a month. She allowed her eyes to glance at him for just a moment and saw, to her dismay, he didn't appear surprised at all.
She took a deep breath and ate her treacle tart, ignoring the weight that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
A/N: As always, thank you to my Alphabets: Elizcoll, art3misia and astrangefan.
All reviews/comments/emotions are much appreciated.