OMG, one chapter away from 50, 23 days away from the one year anniversary of publishing this story! All of you are wonderful, amazing people! I never dreamed of this kind of response. Thank you all of you for reading. I promise to stop gushing. To those who asked, my ankle is better, I get a walking boot tomorrow. Our nursing home is still Covid free, and we passed our state infection control survey with flying colors.
Chapter 49
Foss restored the Dior dress to it's pristine glory. A snap of her fingers sized the dress accordingly. Hermione matched it with an elaborate necklace made up of aquamarines, peridots, and opals designed to resemble peacock feathers. Elbow length white silk fingerless gloves completed the outfit. Winky piled her hair atop her head, letting curls hang down. Opal tipped pins added a glint to her hair. Hermione admired her reflection in the mirror, checking it from multiple angles. "Thank you, Winky. You did an amazing job."
Once the Malfoy family finished greeting their guests, Hermione circulated the room with Theo. She noticed the subtle hunted expressions of Slytherin and Ravenclaw classmate. They hid them well, but the tightness in the smiles, the dead look lurking in their eyes. Riddle might still be a clay golem, but his followers had begun nudging others off the fence. And applying pressure to the next generation. Contemplating the room, Hermione wondered how many would topple into the pit, and how many would be unwilling. "You can't save everyone." Theo whispered in her ear, brushing aside a curl.
"Watch me." she breathed back,
"Sweet, someone of them will follow blindly, family approval meaning everything. And Sirius promised to try to help those willing to run." She glanced at him, surprised by this news. "And I will send everyone I can his way." They continued on their circuit.
Moving to greet Susan Bones and her aunt, Amelia, they caught the end of discussion about keeping muggleborns out of wizarding society. Thorfinn Rowle smirked at Amelia like his last dig proved his point. Before anyone could speak, Hermione surged forward, "Excuse me, but that is a rather unproductive attitude to express." Thorfinn glared at her, but a few of his compatriots looked surprised. Behind him Daphne Greengrass rolled her eyes.
"I don't expect a child like you to understand." Thorfinn sniffed.
"Child, indeed," she snapped, "I am of age, and you're barely three years older than me." Several of the gentlemen chuckled. "Numerous sources have named me the 'brightest witch of my generation.' I seriously doubt there in any opinion you can express that I will not understand. And until my fourth year of school, everyone believed I was muggleborn."
"But, you're not."
She paused, taking a deep breath to calm the nerves raging through her at the undivided attentions of men who, at the very least, sympathized with the Death Eater movement. "Exactly my point! I only discovered my adoption because of baby pictures in an old magazine. No one suggested I had wizard ancestors to make me a stronger witch. Nor could anyone just look at me, or my blood, and go
'oh, you're a pureblood!'"
"Muggleborns are eroding our culture with their superstitions and ignorance. They want to change everything to suit themselves."
"Because no one attempts to explain, or better yet, educate them. Anyone not raised in the wizarding world is thrown in and expected to start swimming. Here's a shiny, amazing new world, now figure it out by yourself. To make it more challenging, we're going to be selfish and hoard all the information from you. And become belligerent when you don't know something or understand." She managed to keep her volume down, and plastered a smile on her face. "There is no Wizarding Studies class, and Muggle Studies is so out of date it is a pathetic joke."
MacNair snorted, "The musings of a child." He lowered his eyes to his drink in dismissal.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Just because you can't refute my points does not make me a child. Or mean that I cannot have ideas of merit." He cocked a mocking eyebrow. "The dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort desired to eradicate muggles and muggleborns. Let us for a moment pretend to espouse the ideals of genocide as morally acceptable. Once anyone not a muggleborn or muggle is dead, who will serve the ruling class? Half bloods? And whose definition of a pureblood will we use.?"
"A pureblood has four magical grandparents." MacNair condescended."
"Then in two three generations we have no half bloods, muggleborns, or muggles. Everyone will be a pureblood. How will we determine who is to serve, and who will be serve? Hair color? Eye color? Wealth? What geographical area you were born?"
"I, uh..."
"She smirked, "And that, gentlemen and ladies, is how you defend a position. I don't even agree with that one, but I managed." She turned to Susan, "We came over to say hello. I love your dress."
The redhead smiled. "Thanks. Yours is gorgeous."
Thank you. From the Dior Spring collection in the early 1950s. Foss is simply amazing with clothing charms." They made small talk until the adults moved on. Susan waved farewell.
"Um, Hermione?" Daphne suddenly looked nervous. She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger. "You haven't, um, changed your world views have you?"
"Of course not, neither have any of them." She gestured after the departing wizards. "But the seeds of doubt have been planted. Hopefully the seeds take root and grow, and if the Death Eater movement spreads they won't murder everyone out of hand.
"I know some of them question my parents' allegiances. They want them to be leading the charge again, like when Abraxas was the Head of House. They don't like the neutrality. And they blame me. They think I'm corrupting them. The example I used suggested the opposite is occurring. People remember things the way they want to." She smiled a mean little grin. "Right now they are rearranging what I said and deciding I only added that part about genocide being wrong to appease the ministry official."
Daphne stared at her with wide eyes. "How were you not sorted into Slytherin?"
"I asked."
"You asked?" Daphne blinked twice, clearly stunned.
"Yep. The hat debated between Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. I asked for Gryffindor."
"We could have been in the same house this whole time?" Theo exclaimed in mock outrage.
"I thought I was a muggleborn. I would have been murdered in my bed that night."
"Not the first night." Daphne protested, and the three laughed.
Daphne caught sight of someone and groaned, "Excuse me, I'm playing a high stakes game of hide and go seek." Hermione wished her good luck as she slid into the nearby crowd, blending with revelers.
Once she was gone, Theo glared at Hermione. "You are playing with fire, sweet."
"Theo, I've been playing with fire since I was eleven." She began moving around the ballroom towards the door.
"Not like this."
She stepped out into the gardens and turned to face him. She took hold of both of his hands. "Actually, no, not really. Theodore." she spoke softly, in a gentle tone. "I've known how dangerous these things have been since the beginning. The stakes didn't change just because my last name did. I've been attacked by Death Eater flunkies at least once because they thought I was weakening Lucius. I figure it would be better in they thought the Malfoys were hardening me."
"When were you attacked by Death Eaters?"
"We don't know they were Death Eaters, just that Amycus Carrow,"
"Death Eater."
"Don't interrupt, Theo. Amycus Carrow hired them to kidnap me again. They failed, obviously."
"Why don't I remember this?"
"It was during the house arrest days. Mum and I defended ourselves and apprehended our attackers." She tried not to giggle at the emotions flashing across his face. "We were fine. All's well that ends well and all that." She squeezed his hands. "Courage, love, it only gets worse from here."
He gave her a crooked half smile, "Any chance I could convince you to run away with me to America?"
"None."
"I figured, I just wanted to double check."
She kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you, too." They dropped hands and returned to the ballroom. Theo lead her to the dance floor and they twirled the night away.
In the blink of an eye they were back on the Hogwarts Express chugging back to school. At the Welcoming Feast, a first year delivered a note to Harry from Dumbledore. "Not even a chance to settle in, a lesson tomorrow night."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look, "And remedial potions the night after that."
"But at least those lessons aren't as useless." Hermione could only shake her head in silent agreement, dropping the matter before someone overheard them.
While Harry met with Dumbledore, Hermione decided to spend some time with Tracey. They met in a quiet corner of the library. She had missed spending time with her friend, and thought Harry would enjoy seeing his girlfriend, even if briefly. The two pretended to be starting on their Charms essays.
"So, I think I want to get more serious with Harry." Tracey twirled her hair around her finger, speaking in a hushed tone. Hermione raised a silent eyebrow in response. "We've gotten to over the clothes petting and some grinding." She looked around nervously, like she expected someone to pop out of the stacks and laugh at her.
Hermione flicked her wand and created the privacy wards Snape taught them. "I'm going to remind you that you will probably always have to be the one to initiate moving forward, especially with physical intimacy. Harry will never have the confidence to try something he isn't one hundred percent sure you want. You just have to talk to him about it. Let him know what you want."
Tracey looked at her in horror. "Or I could just stay a virgin for the rest of my life. Yeah, that sounds like the best plan. Say nothing, pine away, die a virgin."
Hermione swatted her arm. "It isn't that horrible. Theo and I managed to do it."
"WHAT?" Tracey exclaimed.
Hermione hushed her harshly, "Do you want to get us kicked out?"
"Sorry. What do you mean you two did it? And why didn't you tell me immediately? I need details!"
"We talked about it. We discussed being ready for that." Hermione waved her hand about vaguely. "That I had taken steps to be prepared for the event."
Tracey covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to contain her giggles. "How did Theo react to that?"
"Shock, at first. Then he agreed we were on the same page. We're not planning anything, or rather, I'm not. We're just going to let the moment happen."
Tracey opened her mouth to respond and promptly closed with when she saw Harry approaching.
"Hey, my two favorite girls." He kissed Tracey in greeting as he say besides her. "What are we talking about?"
"Nothing." Tracey shuffled her books together, stuffing them in
her bag. Her face and neck turning beet red.
"Nothing sounds like something." Harry teased.
"Where Theo and I should have sex." Hermione deadpanned. "There, happy now?"
"Ew, Hermione! More information than I needed."
She shrugged, "You asked."
"On that note. I'm going to make my escape. Good night." She pecked Harry on her way out the door. He watched her walk away before returning his attention to Hermione.
"Learn anything useful tonight?"
"Dumbledore's arm is getting worse. Snape's potion can barely keep the curse at bay.
"And that helps us identify and locate horcruxes how?"
"Harsh, Mione, have you no compassion?"
She sighed, "Of course, I do. But no amount of moaning and wailing on my part will change the outcome. And Dumbledore is wasting what time he has left playing games."
"You're right."
"Though this does serve as a cautionary tale to not rush in blindly."
Harry nodded, "I suppose. Tonight we reviewed Morfin's memory of meeting Tom. Riddle murdered his father and grandparents, then framed his uncle. He stole the family ring from Morfin."
"The Gaunt family ring, a likely horcrux. His diary was a part of him immortalized forever. What better to housed a piece of his soul than a piece of himself? And his wizarding family's house ring. Something to tie himself to his past."
"I doubt Riddle put that much thought into it."
"Please, disappearing for a few years, reappearing with a new mysterious name. Tom Marvolo Riddle is a drama queen of the highest order."
"There was another memory. I think it is the real reason Dumbledore wanted Slughorn here this year, it concerns him." Harry leaned forward. "Riddle asked him if he knew how to make them."
"Did he really?" asked Hermione, her cinnamon colored eyes the size of saucers.
"Oh, it gets worse. Slughorn obviously told him everything he knew. But he's altered his own memory. He gave Dumbledore a memory with weird spots that go in and out. In his memory he refuses to say anything and insists that Tom will go bad and he's always known it."
"Slughorn was his head of house and has a little social club, a smart, charming, attractive young man like Riddle would be right up his alley."
"Yeah, and now Dumbledore wants me to waste my time being a soapy toady and get the real memory from Slughorn."
"Why? He knows Riddle made horcruxes. This entire farce of lessons has been leading up to that reveal."
"He wants me to understand Riddle, how he thinks."
"You two could have sat down and done all of this over the course of a few evenings and been done months ago. Why is he stalling?"
"I don't know, we could always ask Snape, I guess." He shrugged.
"As good a plan as any." She collected her belongings and the two returned to Gryffindor Tower.
All through January, and into February, Harry attempted to think of a way to complete Dumbledore's task without becoming the man's sycophant. Needing devious brain power, and since six inches of snow covered the grounds, Hermione and Harry arranged for Snape to turn a blind eye to them sneaking into the Slytherin common room. Both swore a wizard's oath not to betray his trust with foolish shenanigans. "In other words, if you wouldn't be willing to do it in front of Narcissa, don't do it at all."
"You have no idea how much leeway that gives Hermione." retorted Harry.
"That was meant mostly for you. Young Mr Malfoy will be present to deter Nott's amorous advances."
"You mean, he'll try. They tend to ignore him."
"His reactions are too amusing not to."
Dressed in causal clothes, the two joined their paramours for dinner one evening. Then, instead of parting ways, they slipped into a crowd of Slytherins and followed them to their common room. A few snakes gave them an odd look, but the acceptance of most of the sixth and seventh year students forced them to remain silent. Hermione stretched across one of the couches, her head on Theo's lap. He gently ran his fingers through her curls, occasionally stretching a dangling on to watch it spring back together. Similarly mesmerized, Adrian Pucey also watched her curls, even reaching out once to play with one. He earned himself a glare from Theo and a smack to the back of the head from Draco. Harry paced in front of the fireplace explaining his dilemma. "Focus, guys, I need a way to get this information without selling my soul to Slughorn."
"How would you do that? Can you do that?" asked Crabbe.
"It's a muggle expression based the idea that you can make a deal with the devil. You give him a soul, he'll give you anything you ask for." Harry answered.
"Does it have to be your soul?" wondered on the seventh years.
"I don't know." Harry wondered.
Hermione rolled over on the back. "Muggles also think you can summon demons to do your bidding. I wonder if they would want souls?" Hermione's thoughtful voice trailed off.
"No!" Harry insisted.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"You do not need a demon army!"
"What would you do with a demon army?" inquired Crabbe.
"What wouldn't I do?" laughed Hermione.
"And that's why you don't need one."
"Spoilsport." She stuck her tongue out at him. She sat up, leaning back against Theo's chest. "Just for that I'm not going to use my demon army to help you fight Riddle."
"Liar."
"Nope. You don't approve."
"Um, Potter, have you considered just doing things the Gryffindor way?" asked Pucey.
"The Gryffindor way?"
"Instead of being all subtle and sneaky like a Slytherin, just walk up to Slughorn and tell him you know about the memory, you know what it means, and you need to know what's missing from it."
Hermione nodded, "That's just so crazy, it just might work."
"I'm desperate to try just about anything at this point."