CARPE NOCTEM / THE BRAINIEST OF THE BRAINS / CH. 3

The brainiest of the brains,

allow me the pleasure of inviting you to spend a whole month of this glorious holiday in my magnetic presence at Malfoy Manor.

Seriously, Granger. Your parents must have already received the formal letter, sent by my mother herself, so no backing out! I'll kill Zabini if I'm left alone with him one more day.

Now, move it and tell your mother to owl us a note announcing your acceptance.

I guess I'll see you in a few days.

P.S. Stay out of trouble.

P.P.S. Stop worrying!

- D. Malfoy

"Oh, no!" Hermione sighed heavily as she tossed the parchment on the bunch of books occupying half of her bed. She had really hoped this was just another bizarre dream of hers but alas, it was as real as the whole absurdity of the situation.

What was he thinking?!

She clearly remembered the day he spat out this nonsense. Of course, Hermione was flattered and unbelievably proud of him for standing up to his family, but she didn't seriously expect him to truly act on it—and that was okay, it was the gesture alone she cared about.

Honestly, the idea of setting a foot in his house gave her a certain level of anxiety comparable with the height of Mauna Kea. She was perfectly aware who was the true source of Draco's misleading beliefs, so the thought of spending the rest of the holiday in such company didn't really excite her.

"How on Earth could I possibly survive a day, let alone a whole month, at a place like Malfoy Manor?" The girl threw a rhetorical question in the air.

If only she could refuse. No—she valued her friendship with the blond boy too much to disappoint him. Sure, he acted like a brat most of the time but it was just the way he had been brought up. Hermione doubted he'd ever heard a no from any of his parents and this huge mess was just a proof of it. However, he wasn't as bad as he tried to be—and Merlin did he try, but there was this side of him, funny, smart, and sensitive, which Hermione admired so much. No, he definitely wasn't a bad guy.

And she definitely couldn't do this to him. Hermione knew Draco's parents wouldn't be pleased with her company, but she wasn't doing it for them.

"'Mione, let me know if anyone, listen, anyone treats you the way they're not supposed to!" Jean Granger urged her daughter.

"Don't worry, mom, I will! I promise!" Hermione nodded reassuringly despite her own pervasive unease.

"And remember, you're no less than any pureblood!" She brushed a curl away from her daughter's face. "What was it that your grandma used to say?"

Hermione smiled, knowing perfectly well this little trick. "'You're a miracle for your magic bubbled up from nowhere'," she recited, pouting. "But she used to say that to you!"

The truth was, Granny was so proud to have a witch in the family that she had written an article for the local newspaper. Fortunately, it had mysteriously disappeared before it was delivered and Granny had had a lot of explaining to do when certain ministry workers had appeared at the door.

"True, but you are my miracle, Hermione. Don't ever, ever forget that!" Jean pulled the girl into a crushing embrace.

"I love you, mom!" Hermione murmured a few magical words into her shoulder as she closed her eyes. She'd miss her. She'd miss her so much.

"I'll miss you too!" Jean replied to the unspoken words, eventually letting go of her daughter.

"Wish dad could be here, too," Hermione confessed but tried to tame the disappointment in her voice to the minimum. She hadn't seen him for three days straight. It was clear something was going on.

"I know, honey, but he has a lot on his plate right now," Jean replied casually, but there was this tiny bit of hesitation in her voice which just didn't sound right.

Hermione's dad worked as a policeman and the girl often found herself worrying about his safety. "Like what?" she asked.

"He was in such a rush he didn't have time to explain," Jean let out, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

"I see. Well, hopefully, they'll figure it out. Uhm, just tell him I love him." She decided to leave the subject for now. There was no point in stressing her mom out and it was about the time to go, anyway.

"I will, honey, I will!" Jean promised, granting the girl one last smile.

"Well, I should be going," Hermione announced and hugged the woman once more.

"Right."

"I'll be okay!"

"I know you will, you're a Granger after all."

"Oh my—!" Hermione almost choked as she stumbled out of the huge fireplace, seeing not a room but a majestic hall of a gothic cathedral instead. It was a well-known fact the Malfoy family was wealthy, but this was just—

"Granger!" Draco's voice penetrated her ears. She looked to the left and saw the blond boy smiling from ear to ear. Her heart jumped upon seeing her friend so cheerful.

"Draco, hello!" She returned the smile happily. It was rather strange seeing him without the school uniform, dressed in an elegant robe instead. She must've admitted, he'd break a lot of witches' hearts with such a look.

Hermione was about to reach out and give him a good old hug when a cold voice interrupted their little reunion.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione turned to the sound, her gaze falling upon a beautiful, tall woman approaching. Without questions, that must have been Draco's mother. Locks of blonde hair came down to her shoulders and as she came closer, Hermione was able to recognize a completely identical arctic blue, dominating Draco's face as well.

"Welcome," Narcissa Malfoy stopped next to her son, the tone of her voice suggesting the girl was anything but welcomed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Madame." Hermione reached out her hand, trying to appear confident, even though her stomach was bubbling.

Narcissa put on a cold smile but didn't really respond. For a tiny moment, Hermione got an impression she was not going to shake her hand, but the girl wasn't about to back off.

Finally, after a few embarrassing seconds, a soft manicured hand brushed against her own. "Draco, show your friend around, please," Narcissa spoke as she let go, gazing down at Hermione with her freezing eyes.

"Sure," he responded, visibly relieved the tension was about to be over, "come on, Granger."

They both disappeared from the parlour as quickly as they could.

"Merlin, you've got some balls," he noted as they climbed the marble stairs and smiled, "but don't try it with my father!"

Hermione let out a soft laugh. She herself was surprised by her temerity, but she'd made herself a promise not to show how small she actually felt.

"Still think this is a good idea?" she asked significantly.

"Yes, why not?" he turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously, Draco?! This is the worst idea you've ever had and let's be honest, you've had plenty already," she let out a little louder than she meant to.

"Oh Granger, don't be such a spoilsport!"

"Look who's lecturing me! Don't make me remind you of that day I punched you in the face," Hermione snapped back teasingly.

"Careful or else you may sleep in a dungeon," he sneered as they finally climbed the never-ending staircase.

"You've got dungeons? Of course, you have, 'cause you live in a sodding castle." Hermione shook her head, stopping, marvelling at the sight in front of her.

"Glad you like it." Draco winked as he led the way through the long dark corridor.

"Are all of these people related to you?" Hermione asked curiously, looking from side to side, taking in the enormous portraits of noble-looking aristocrats.

"Yes, all of them are my ancestors," he pointed vehemently at the walls as if he was introducing the next act in a circus.

"Bet they wouldn't like to have me here," Hermione paused, looking at the pair of two Victorian-looking women that were whispering to each other.

"Forget about them. I'm fine with it, my parents are fine with it—there's also Zabini but he's an idiot so forget about him as well." Draco summarized, making the corners of Hermione's mouth lift.

"Granger, what a surprise!" A tanned Slytherin boy suddenly appeared in front of them out of nowhere.

"Nice to see you too, Blaise," she said in a completely neutral tone.

"I bet. Funny you didn't burn when you appeared. I'm almost sure Malfoy once bragged about having ancient magic grounded in the house so that no scum would be able to enter." He sneered at the blond boy, who surprisingly laughed himself.

"That's right, Zabini, my friend. But you see, your mom begged us that you spend the summer at our house, so we had to remove it. We wouldn't let anything happen to her precious boy," he shot at the dark boy who was gritting his teeth.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother!"

"All right, I won't, that's your field, after all," Draco replied, waving the boy goodbye. Hermione jogged after him, trying to suppress laughter. He was an arse, but sometimes it was all worth it.

"This will be your room." Draco suddenly stopped at the end of the corridor. "Nobody but you will be able to enter once you place your palm on the handle."

"All right." Hermione squeezed the cold metal.

"Come on, don't be shy," Draco nudged her shoulder as the door suddenly opened on its own.

Hermione entered, looking at the spacious bedroom in awe. It was three times bigger than her own little kingdom back home. Everything from the walls to the floor was covered in silver and green, clearly representing the preference of the Slytherin house.

"Hope you don't mind the colours. I know you are more of a blue and bronze type of girl." Draco leaned in, smiling at her widened eyes.

"Sure, I mean—Merlin, are all of the rooms as huge as this one?" she asked, still unable to tear her eyes from the snake-like tapestries.

"More or less," he said, looking around. "I should probably leave you to unpack—no, don't panic! Your suitcase is already here," he added, seeing the horror on Hermione's face.

Blimey, she didn't even think about her bags until he pointed it out—actually, she couldn't quite remember carrying anything in the first place.

"How...?" she asked, perplexed, glancing over to her suitcase, which was waiting next to a beautifully carved wardrobe.

"Well, it's simple, really. The baggage is immediately transformed once you set foot in this house. Magic." Draco snapped his fingers in front of her face and laughed as she punched him slightly.

"Right then, I'll be back in an hour or so. If you need anything, just call Ailey, she'll bring you whatever you wish," Draco informed her, already backing away.

"Is Ailey a house elf?" Hermione asked with a tilted head.

"Yes."

"Is she getting paid?"

Draco only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

"Then I won't need anything." The girl lifted her chin. No, she refused to contribute to this barbaric way of living.

"Seriously, you'd rather die of thirst than ask a house elf for a glass of water?!"

"Yes."

"You're bonkers, Granger," he tapped on his temples but laughed anyway. "Well, I'll see you in a bit—figured I need to show you the kitchen first." Rolling his eyes, he closed the door behind him.

Hermione only sighed, making her way towards the dark wardrobe. She touched the smooth surface of the wood but quickly pulled away as it opened with a soft clicking sound, showing her a huge vastness of its black entrails.

Hermione took out a few of her t-shirts and they flew out of her hands right into the darkness, stopping in the midair one next to another.

"Magic," she whispered, smiling to herself.

The whole unpacking activity took her less than fifteen minutes so she decided to utilize the remaining time by exploring the corners of the bedroom. She had never been a fan of fancy things but this gothic furniture was quite something to look at—just like the beautiful labyrinth of gardens that was glowing in the last evening sun rays and could be seen from the enormous window.

Hermione'd never been to such an elegant place before, that one was clear.

She turned her wandering attention from the green, perfectly groomed bushes towards the stack of books she'd left on the bed earlier. Taking a few steps, she carefully sat on the dark green silk, grabbing 'Advanced Arithmancy Studies'.

Just as she was about to read the first words, Draco's subdued voice came from behind the door.

"G-R-A-N-G-E-R!"

Hermione jumped from the bed and swiftly made her way to open up.

"All good?" he sneered.

"Sure."

"Excellent. Now, come on, there's a lot I need to show you!" Draco hurried, snatching the book out of her hands and throwing it across the room back to the bed, completely ignoring the horrified expression on her face. "Merlin, I'd bet ten galleons you were born with a book glued to your fingers."

As promised, Draco showed her the kitchen first, followed by the most important room. The library.

Hermione felt like being in a dream; the room was almost as huge as the Hogwarts library.

Her shining eyes didn't miss Draco's amused ones. "If only you could see yourself," he laughed.

He gave her a quick tour and assured her that she could read any book she wanted. The excited girl couldn't stop herself from smiling.

They made themselves comfortable on nearby chairs, briefly talking about their summer when Hermione's eyes fell upon a bunch of framed pictures on a japanned table. The first one to catch her eye was a photo of baby Draco—and she really tried not to comment on the level of his cuteness but failed miserably.

"Just look at those cheeks!" She laughed while Draco, red as a tomato, tried to hide every remaining picture out of Hermione's sight. She managed to grab the last one though.

"Who is this?" she asked curiously as soon as she caught her breath and stopped laughing. She was holding a photograph of two exceptionally beautiful young women, both dressed in quite expensive-looking dark robes.

"I mean, surely, this must be your mom, but who is it with her?" Hermione's eyes travelled from the younger version of Narcissa Malfoy to the girl next to her.

"Oh, that's auntie Bella."

"Really?!" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

She took a closer look, trying to find any resemblance between the two, but except for the equally proud looks on their faces, they were nothing alike.

While Narcissa with her silvery blonde hair and blue eyes was the perfect depiction of light, her sister was a total opposite. Dark, shining hair, tamed in a Victorian-like hairstyle, and her eyes, completely black, piercing through Hermione like a dagger.

"Wow, they're so different." The girl pointed out as she handed the picture to Draco, her eyes still lingering on the pale face of his aunt. She remembered him talking about her occasionally. According to the boy, she was an extremely skilled and powerful witch.

"Will she come for a visit?" Hermione asked curiously.

"No, Merlin! She'd kill us all if she knew—I mean, no, she's eh—" Draco tried to save the situation but the harm had been already done.

"Oh, I get it," Hermione tried to smile. Of course, the witch must have shared the family's beliefs.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" he tried to explain himself, but the girl understood.

"Draco, I know what I've gotten myself into. I'm quite aware your family is not pleased with my staying here, and I don't care. My value doesn't depend on their opinions."

"I'm glad you're so smart, Granger. This is probably the first time I'm not finding it annoying."

She woke up with droplets of sweat on her forehead. It was another absurd dream of that sort that made her whole body tremble with unease.

Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't back home and couldn't just go strolling around the streets whenever she'd dream about the death of Myrtle Warren or worse, having feelings for Ronald Weasley.

Oh, wait!

Actually, she could. There was this huge garden after all.

Without a second thought, Hermione slipped into her robe, tiptoeing towards the door. The dark manor seemed uncomfortably haunting during the night. Shadows cast by metal torches were making the girl shiver, especially when she saw one of them move.

Hermione paused but concluded it was probably just her imagination, which was already running wild. Taking a deep, controlled breath, she was about to step out when—

Wait— what was this?

She froze upon feeling a sudden cold breeze that made her hair bounce softly against her skin. She turned around, only to be faced with the darkness alone. The lights seemed to have lost all traces of life, leaving her for the unknown.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Hermione heard a soft, almost baby-like voice from behind her back. Jumping, she swiftly spun around, backing away until her spine collided with the wall.

There was deep laughter that chilled every living atom in Hermione's trembling body.

"I—" she wanted to say something but her voice suddenly decided to give up on her.

Another wave of breeze and a soft rustling sound made the torches sparkle with flames again.

And there she was, like a female version of Dorian Gray, leaning against the wall opposite to the stunned Hermione.

Draco's auntie Bella.

As always, thank you so much for the support, I really appreciate it!