CARPE NOCTEM / FROZEN BLOOD / CH. 4

"Clearly, somebody's forgetting about good old manners." The woman pointed out arrogantly, completely ignoring the fact her very own actions were far from polite. She was watching the frozen Hermione, awaiting any reaction, but the girl was just staring back at her, unable to form any sort of reply.

"You didn't introduce yourself, little one." The older witch lifted her chin and smirked, quite enjoying the fear reflecting in the widened eyes of the smaller witch.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just—" Hermione finally forced the first few words to slip past her lips, but it came out as nothing but a mess of I-s and sorry-s. She was positive this was the woman whose picture she had seen in the library earlier that day. Of course, she was facing an older version, but as much as dancing shadows allowed her to see, Hermione could tell the witch hadn't changed that much. No, she was still sporting the same smug expression, radiating from every inch of her face—the lips in particular— Merlin! She's talking and I'm not listening!

"Oh, come on, it surely cannot be that hard to assemble a basic sentence." The older witch inched closer, smiling even wider when she noticed the girl was trying to step back but the wall behind her wouldn't let her.

"I'm s-sorry," Hermione stuttered once again, trying to disperse the fog crawling through her mind.

"Well, we've already heard that, haven't we?" The woman tilted her head to the side.

Taking a deep breath, the girl closed her eyes, trying to tame her irrational feelings. Hermione Granger, you surely haven't lost the ability to talk! There's nothing to be afraid of—nothing apart from this witch who, as Draco claimed, shared the same pureblood belief nonsense as the rest of their family. There was something about the way the boy's eyes flashed with fear when he mentioned the words 'kill' and 'aunt Bella' in the same sentence. Something that made Hermione's heart beat rather frantically.

She acknowledged the odd feeling rising inside of her chest, clutching the soft walls of her lungs and scratching her throat with unease. It was shame. Shame eating her up alive, the only thing she'd promised wouldn't get to her. No... I cannot feel this way. I'm not anyone's inferior!

The older witch was watching the inner battle, completely aware of every little thought the girl's head flowered with. What a pathetic little one.

Finally, Hermione seemed to take a grip. She opened her eyes and caught the sight of the smirking witch once again.

"Right," she let out, "I apologise, ma'am. I'm Hermione Granger," she spilt with fake confidence, meaning to end it like that, but before she could stop herself, she reached out her hand.

There was an awkward pause followed by soft but lofty laughter. The witch's dark eyes travelled to the palm that had become shaky under her gaze, and she stepped close enough to grasp it. Her own hand slowly reached out as well but as Hermione's moved so did hers, changing the angle in the last second. It reached for a curl of her own dark hair to push it behind her ear, so Hermione ended up gripping plain air instead. The girl immediately lowered her hand, a soft shade of pink creeping up to her cheeks at the rejection.

"Hm," The older witch narrowed her eyes as if nothing had happened, pretending to be hunting in her memories. "Granger, Granger— I don't think I've ever heard of that name before. It is odd, you know because I'm quite familiar with all the wizarding families." The way she emphasized the word let Hermione immediately know that the woman knew. About everything.

"I—" Hermione felt a slight pinch of panic. 'She'd kill us all if'—thanks, Draco. She mentally smacked an imaginary Draco across the face for giving her even more anxiety.

The girl was sure the older witch had already had a clue but still, it was quite terrifying to say it in her face—but hey, there was nothing to be ashamed of! "You probably haven't heard of my name because I'm a half-blood."

For a split second, the look on the witch's face hardened, creating a haunting image, chilling all the remaining pieces of bravery left in Hermione's veins—but then, quite unimaginable happened. The corners of the crimson lips curled upwards, showing perfectly white teeth.

"A half-blood you say?" she repeated, her eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"Y-yes, ma'am." The girl tried her best to shake the fear off of her words but for some reason, that smile was making her even more anxious if that was still possible.

"That is quite interesting." That one actually came out as whisper penetrating the girl's skin, biting her bones cold.

"Actually, I'm a friend of Draco's. He invited me ove—" She tried to explain further, but her voice failed her.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, I—" Hermione tried to come up with a reply but paused, not really knowing how to finish. After seconds of silence, the woman's patience ran cold.

"Well, I'm sure you've got plenty to say, but unfortunately I don't have the whole night. I still need to have a conversation with my sister."

It was quite late at night and everyone else was certainly asleep but Hermione didn't feel like pointing this little detail out. No, she could barely keep it together as it was.

"Of course, I didn't mean to waste your time! Eh— it was a pleasure to meet you," Hermione lied, trying to get out as quickly as she could.

"Yes, I'm sure it was," the woman replied haughtily.

"Goodnight, madam."

"Oh but wait, deary! You're invited as well."

Invited? Where? Hermione panicked.

"To the girl's talk, of course," the witch answered the unspoken, smiling dangerously and nodding towards the stairs.

The library had never felt so cold and uninviting as this particular night. Heavy clouds outside the Manor were guarding its haunting image, preventing even the tiniest of the stars from casting a twinkle of hope into Hermione's big frightened eyes.

She was standing amidst the shelves that were crammed with heavy books, clutching at her dressing gown tightly. The room was illuminated by dim light coming from the fireplace, already losing all the traces of sparks and leaving the space shrouded in shadows.

A few feet away stood Draco's aunt, facing the girl with her back and a waterfall of shiny curls blossoming all the way down to her waist. Not a word had fallen between them since they left the corridor and Hermione suddenly had a strong urge to talk. About anything, because this horrible silence was only adding to the thick atmosphere, making her nerves bounce against her ribcage like a troop of tiny little monkeys.

She was hypnotising the dark figure until the witch glanced over her shoulder, catching Hermione staring at her. Frowning, she opened her mouth but at that very moment, Narcissa Malfoy came in between them, giving her sister an astounded look.

"Bellatrix! What is this? You didn't—" The blond witch failed to finish.

"Good to see you too, Cissy," Bellatrix stated coldly, folding her arms.

Narcissa's eyes softened as she pursed her lips together. "I'm sorry, you know I'm happy to see you!" An apology cut through the heavy atmosphere as Narcissa moved towards her sister, who was standing still without any movement.

"You know, I could swear I was having a similar conversation with this one just mere minutes ago," Bellatrix inclined her head at Hermione, stopping the woman just as she was about to lean in and place a kiss on her cheek.

Narcissa froze, turning her wide eyes towards Hermione, who was playing with a thread coming out of her collar, wishing she could just blend into the mass of books behind her back.

Due to her shock, the woman hadn't noticed the girl when she'd come rushing into the library.

Bellatrix came closer, resting her chin against her sister's shoulder.

"Narcissa, dear, tell me, what is this about?" A low voice escaped the dark witch's lips, coming out sweetly, but the hidden bite didn't miss anyone's ears.

A hand found its way to the blonde one's forehead as Bella pulled away. Narcissa rubbed her temples as if trying to come up with a good excuse but there was not enough time and Bellatrix too wasn't the one with patience made of gold.

As she closed her eyes, it took her only a moment to recover. "This, Bella, this is Miss Granger, she's in the same year as Draco." She let out stiffly, her voice slowly gaining the usual coldness.

"Yes, she's already told me they are good friends—so good, actually, that my sweet nephew invited her over." Bellatrix continued, strong confidence radiating from every syllable of her words, showing she was the one with the upper hand.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

The silence was almost tangible; Hermione would bet that the air around them had become so much thicker that if she moved her arm, it would leave a trace of fog swirling with shame emitting from Narcissa's guilty eyes.

"And the point is? Draco's always had friends over during summer." The blond witch decided to change her tactics, using the same tone of voice as Bellatrix. Hermione secretly admired the woman's guts—it was her house though, so no wonder she wouldn't let anyone walk over her. Not even her sister.

"Well, not this kind of friends," Bellatrix smirked, walking over to the fireplace and pointing her hand at the dying sparks, which made them burst into a hell of flames, mirroring the aggravation growing inside her chest.

Hermione jumped as the light illuminated the whole library.

"Bella, we won't be having this conversation in front of the girl, " Narcissa turned to face her sister, using a low whispering voice, which however still managed to find its way into Hermione's ears. "Miss Granger," she continued louder, "I think you should head back to your room, it's quite late."

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione was more than happy to comply, already turning on her heel, practically jogging out of the library, but Bellatrix's angry voice still bit her before she could shut the door behind her.

"Why is it you're sheltering a mud in your own house, Narcissa?! And no, this time I'm not talking about your husband."

"Bellatrix!"

These were the last words Hermione heard before she closed the door, running her way up straight to Draco's room.

She stopped in front of the massive wooden pattern, knocking frantically. When the bright blonde hair finally greeted her widened eyes, she pushed past the boy, making her way into his room.

"Merlin, Granger. It's like one thirty! I know I'm charming, but this is just the first night, I thought you'd wait for at least a few—"

"Shut it, Draco, your aunt is here!" Hermione interrupted him, cutting straight to the chase.

The perplexion in his eyes changed into pure horror in no time.

"What did you just say?" he asked, the last signs of sleepiness fading away.

"I said—" Hermione started but he didn't let her finish.

"I heard what you said! But— how do you know?! Don't tell me you've confronted her—no, of course, you haven't, you're still alive." He was talking more to himself then Hermione as he paced across his room.

"Actually, I did." Hermione let out, her nerves finally deciding to settle down.

These three simple words made the boy stop. He ran his hands through his hair nervously.

"What?! But— but how did this happen?"

"Well, I needed to get some air 'cause, you know, I couldn't sleep." Hermione started, having Draco hanging on her every word.

"The nightmare again?" He asked, frowning.

"Yes, I've been having these strange dreams lately, always the same kind, continuing like a sequence. Once I wake up I'm not able to fall back asleep until I take a walk outside. Tonight it happened again so I wanted to at least for a moment just go out to calm down. I hardly even left the room when I met her." Hermione finished, feeling quite vulnerable talking about her night terrors.

"We'll get back to those dreams in a moment." Draco took a deep breath, plopping down onto his bed. "First, I need to know everything you told her."

"I— nothing much, she almost scared the very old soul out of me, for Merlin's sake," the girl confessed, sitting down next to her friend. "She asked about my name and when I told her, it was clear she knew I— she practically forced me to go to the library with her, where we waited for your mother. I believe they are having quite an argument right now," Hermione finished desperately, looking at Draco's ghostly transparent face.

"She is going to kill me!" The boy raised his eyebrows, gazing into the distance, his blue irises unfocused.

"It's going to be okay, Draco!" she tried to calm him down, but the thoughts inside her mind had quite a similar tune.

I knew this was a bad idea! I should have never accepted the invitation in the first place. But it was already too late to cry now.

"I need to see her." Draco suddenly jumped from his bed, tearing Hermione's inner conversation apart.

"Draco, let your mom handle it!" the girl objected, tugging at his sleeve, but he didn't listen.

"No, it's my business and I need to take care of it!" He lunged for the door, only to be slowed down by Hermione hooked to his elbow.

"Stop, this is not a good idea!"

"Granger, let go of me!" He tried to shake the girl off but she was clutching his arm with all her might.

"Or else what?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Let me see... I'll tell Zabini you like him!" Draco came back to his humour, which meant Hermione'd won the battle.

"You wouldn't dare!" Her hands slowly let go, ready to attack again is case Draco would change his mind.

"Merlin, you're quite strong for a girl," he noted, massaging the reddening skin of his arm.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Hermione frowned, her inner feminist pride screaming at her to flick his nose.

Draco only laughed. "Oh Granger, you see, this is what I was talking about earlier. Finally not a boring summer and—" he slowly moved towards the door. "There is no way I'm letting anyone ruin it." He grabbed the handle and smiled sadly. "I really need to talk to her and explain."

"But— I don't want you to get into the fight with her, I know how much she means to you!" Hermione protested, quite desperate she'd be the cause of Draco's troubles. "Moreover, she's quite terrifying, I wouldn't—"

That made Draco laugh. "Look, Granger. She's really my favourite, but I can't respect anyone who doesn't respect my friends."

Hermione opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Merlin, stop looking at me like that!" he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"I'm just thinking why do you always have to act like a jerk when there's so much more to you." Hermione let out, smiling softly.

"That was definitely a compliment!" he narrowed his eyes, smirking.

"And my second thought was... why did you end up in Slytherin when you clearly belong to Gryffindor." She let out cheekily and burst into laughter when his smile faded quicker than lightning.

"You take that back!" he snapped, shooting imaginary daggers in Hermione's direction.

"I know what you're trying to do," he added when he realised what'd been the purpose of this whole mocking show. "But it's not going to change my mind!" Draco shook his head, opening the door.

"Wait then! I'm coming with you." Hermione could not believe what nonsense her mouth had just composed but she just couldn't let him go on his own.

The boy paused, turning his gaze towards his friend. "Well, if I'm not supposed to be in Slytherin, you definitely missed the criteria for Ravenclaw. You're supposed to be smart, you know."

"I'm coming with you," Hermione repeated, ignoring his remarks.

Draco took another deep breath. "When will you stop saving my life?"

Both Hermione and Draco were showing far more bravery than they felt inside their own little worlds of flickering thoughts and nerves. Hermione would swear she could feel her own pulse trying to escape through her skin and run for dear life into somebody like Cuthbert Binns, their history teacher, whose ghostly life didn't require any sorts of emotions.

Okay, Hermione, calm down! It's all going to be all right. She tried to relax but no inner motivation could persuade her growing rush of blood to just come back to normal.

Draco nudged her arm when they both stopped in front of a double-winged door leading into the library.

"Ready?" he asked firmly.

"No."

"Me neither." With that confession, the boy bravely reached out, pushing the door open. He was the first to step in, looking for any sights of his aunt or mother, but didn't have to search for too long.

There they were, sitting next to each other on the sofa, calmly discussing only Merlin knew what, completely destroying Hermione's concept of their argument. Hers and Draco's as well.

Both women turned their faces to the pair of unnerved teenagers standing just mere steps away from the open door, with their eyes wide from all the anxiety bubbling under the surface.

Hermione couldn't help but thought that the scene must have looked like an old grotesque painting consisting of two graceful women with a cup of tea resting on the table in between them and a couple of scared children waiting to be eaten alive.

"Auntie Bella!" Draco greeted the witch, taking a few unsure steps toward the sofa. His heart rate increased when her piercing eyes found his own gentle ones, softened by all the hope he had in their relationship.

She didn't say a word, just waited for him to come close enough to be able to see all the disappointment written all over her face.

"It's so nice to see you, really." His voice was quiet, hiding the guilt which didn't have any right to settle underneath his skin.

Standing up, Bellatrix lifted her chin, looking down at her nephew. She was still stubbornly silent, wanting to give Draco some time to think about his recent actions.

"Bella, don't be like this." Narcissa mixed in, gently touching her sister's forearm.

The dark witch gave Draco one last poisonous look but then resigned. "You're a lot taller than I remember." She shook her head, a left corner of her lips curling upwards.

Draco sighed audibly. He leaned in, letting her kiss both of his cheeks.

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Such an idyllic night after all. She smiled, thinking whether this was just one of her absurd dreams, but that thought lasted only for a short moment. In a second Bellatrix's smile disappeared, changing into a contemptuous look when she glanced over at Hermione.

The girl gulped, not really knowing what to expect. Her eyes jumped from the dark witch to Draco, then to Narcissa and back to Bellatrix.

"Well, don't just stand there, muddy." The dark woman forced a smile at Hermione, who frowned at the nickname, although what really hurt her was that neither Draco nor his mother said anything about it.

Disappointed, she looked down and made her way towards them, stopping a few steps behind Draco, ready to fight all the insults coming her way.

"Well, I've heard you are quite a brave little witch," the woman stated, making Hermione meet her eyes, "my dear sister was just telling me how all this—" a hand pointed vaguely at them, clearly trying to hint on the word friendship, "happened." She tilted her head, a haughty smile still playing tricks on the girl.

"I can't even say how grateful we all are," Bellatrix continued but this time, the sarcasm overpowered every single word rolling off of her tongue.

"That's enough, Bella!" Narcissa stood up, coming over to stand next to her sister. She defended the girl but her voice was lacking any sort of emotion, so all the effort came in vain.

"Aren't you proud, Draco?" The dark witch ignored her sister. "You're probably the only pureblood with a mud—"

"I said that's enough!" Narcissa turned to Bellatrix, her voice finally finding some firmness. The woman only snorted but didn't say anything else. She shook her head, pushing past Draco, but stopped in front of Hermione, who tried her best not to back away.

The girl was finding it rather difficult to breathe when the witch pierced her bare soul with those glowing eyes. Bellatrix was a lot taller than her and having her looking at her like that only added to the power of her terrifying aura.

Blinking, she was unable to hold the gaze any longer. The dark witch smirked and without another word left, taking the cloud of dreadful feelings away with her.

Hermione exhaled loudly when she heard the shutting of the door behind them.

"That went quite well, don't you think?" Draco stated, his eyes flickering between his friend and his mother. "What?! I'm just trying to lighten up the situation!"

"Not now, Draco." Hermione and Narcissa replied simultaneously. They looked at each other, perplexed.

"Weird," Draco noted, raising his eyebrows, while his mouth curled downwards.

The older woman rubbed her forehead, not giving it a second thought. "You two get back to sleep and I'll go finish the conversation with my sister— no, I don't want to hear anything, Draco," she added when she noticed he wanted to protest, "I've told you this was risky." She glanced over at Hermione with a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry," the girl whispered, "I didn't mean to cause any inconvenience. I'll go pack." She turned around, the feelings of guilt eating up all the remaining pieces of optimism still left in her.

She took barely two steps when a warm hand closed gently over her elbow prevented her from leaving. She turned around only to realise it was Narcissa.

"It's really not as bad as I made it sound," she restated, the coldness of her voice kept at the minimum. She stepped even closer, giving Hermione a perfect view on every tiny freckle beautifying her pointy nose. "Next time just don't drag my son into this," the woman whispered only for Hermione to hear. The words didn't sound as an accusation, though, it came out more like a request, clicking perfectly into the girl's logic.

Hermione nodded as the witch let go of her arm, leaving.

"Don't even think about it! I'm telling you, this went much better than I would have expected!" Draco tried to reassure the girl, already making his way out of the library, waiting for her outside the door.

"Oh, but this wasn't the end. This was just the beginning," Hermione whispered to herself, looking at the raging flames still portraying Bellatrix's anger.

Finally tearing her eyes from the fireplace, she too walked her way out, hoping tomorrow would bring much better beginnings.

Goodness, thank you all for your positive feedback! Can't even say how much it means to me! Much love to all of you!