Chapter Five
I didn't feel sadness. I didn't feel pain. I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel anything. I couldn't feel anything. I could only stare at my cousin, unable to comprehend his words.
"Impossible," I choked out. I knew my head was shaking but I didn't remember telling it to do so. My brain was filled with fog I couldn't find my way through.
"I'm so sorry, Hemera." Leonardo was saying, though his voice was muffled through the fog. I looked away from him and saw Malfoy standing at the bottom of the stairs, a confused and concerned look on his face. I couldn't process what his presence meant.
My eyes continued across the room until they landed on the sofa. I found myself stumbling towards it. I latched onto the back of it in an attempt to remain standing. I focused on breathing. I couldn't lose my concentration now. Riccarda would have been disappointed in me.
Riccarda. The name tore through my heart like a dozen serrated knives. She had been like a grandmother, a nonna. Mia nonna. And now she was gone. This was why she hadn't been answering me. She would never speak to me again.
"When?" I croaked out. I faced Leonardo and he was looking at me like I was a wounded cat in a rainstorm.
"She disappeared almost a year ago. The Fenice couldn't find her anywhere. They enlisted the help of the neutral Dinastias, but to no avail. Then, a couple of weeks ago, a Soldato found her body outside the Fenice Fortezza." The first pang of anger shot through me like a lightening bolt. How dare they just drop her body on the pavement? They should have been cowering at her feet, worshiping the dust on her shoes.
"Did the Soldato see who did it?" Leonardo shook his head sadly. I gritted my teeth together. They would pay for this. They would die for this.
"Alexiares realized what her death would mean for you." I grunted, turning away. I understood that my brother was now the padrone of Fenice and so had to think on a greater scale, but honestly? Didn't he realize her death would break more than just the protections she placed over me? "He ordered me to find you."
"But he can't." I frowned, turning back to Leonardo. "You're not Fenice." And he wasn't. He was Volpe, a fox. My mother's sister married into the Volpe Dinastia. It was a common occurrence, but since dinastia's traced through the male side it meant that a few of my cousins were Volpe. I was related to several Drago, too.
"My Padrone supports the Fenice." That served to only confuse me more. Each dinastia had a policy of action during times of war: the Fenice never start it but they'll finish it if you make them, the Serpe attack anyone for anything, the Lupo side with whoever benefits them the most at the time, the Drago only ever protect their own, and the Volpe are neutral in all things. It had been that way for centuries.
"What happened to Volpe neutrality?" I asked, frowning slightly. I had only been gone for three years. Leonardo shook his head.
"Nothing's changed. My Padrone has declared neutrality, but in private he sides with the Fenice. He's given your Padrone five of his best Soldato, including me."
"You're what's considered best?" I asked, a ghost of a smile crossing my face unbidden. The muscles hurt.
Leonardo smiled. "Not all of us can be you, Guida Suprema." My smile went flat. Guida Suprema. That was Riccarda. She was supposed to be the Supreme Guide, the leader of the Quindici. Not me. Not for a very long time.
"She's really gone?" I asked, unable to stop the question despite knowing the answer. Leonardo seemed to collapse into himself.
"Yes, Hemera. Riccarda is gone." I could have sworn I heard the crack as a piece of my heart broke off, never to reattach again. Sorrow crept in, pushing the anger into the back of my mind. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. Part of training to become Sacerdotessa meant controlling all emotion and never showing when you've been broken. I had already forgotten that once today. I would not disappoint her memory again.
"Then I need to go back."
Leonardo sighed. "Alexiares said you'd say that."
"That's not what you're here to do?" I asked, confused.
"Those aren't my orders, no."
"Then what, pray tell, are my Padrone's orders?" I clenched my fists, desperately trying to control my annoyance and anger. What was my brother playing at?
"To make you aware of what's happened and help keep you safe."
"How are they supposed to win a war without me, Leonardo?" I demanded, nearly at my breaking point. I was going to kill my brother when I got back to Italy. I didn't care if it was treason.
"War?" a voice snapped from behind me. I spun around to see Draco Malfoy, still rooted to his spot at the bottom of the staircase. Merda.
"Malfoy," I murmured. This wasn't good at all. He'd just heard all of that, and knowing him he would have a basic knowledge of how things worked in Italy. I'd just screwed everything up. His magic was a jumbled mess of confusion around me.
"What's going on here, Granger?" There was a glint in his eyes I was rather certain I didn't like. He wasn't going to let this go. He wanted answers and he was going to do anything to get them. Maledetto Slytherin.
"It's not what you think, Malfoy," I started, completely unsure of where I was going with it.
"Really? So you're not a member of the strongest magical clan in all of Italy and he's not your cousin from a different magical clan sent here to protect you?"
I blinked. "Oh, well I guess it's exactly what it looks like then."
"You're quite observant." Leonardo said, sounding more impressed then worried, "What's your name again?"
Malfoy ignored him. "You didn't answer my question, Granger."
I sighed. This put me in a difficult position. I looked at Leonardo, but his face was carefully blank. He was giving the decision to me, as his superior. Well then. He couldn't complain when I did something he didn't like. "Go, Leo. I'm sure you have a class to teach." He looked at me, face etched with concern. He didn't like that I hadn't told him my decision.
"Hem—"
"Partire," I ordered in a tone reminiscent of my mother. Leonardo lowered his head, placing his hand over his heart in the traditional sign of obedience. It felt odd to have that shown to me.
"Sì, Guida Suprema," he said, lifting his head to look me in the eye. There was pride there, pride in me for stepping so easily into shoes I didn't want. He left without another word. I turned back to Malfoy, patiently stationed in his spot at the bottom of the stairs.
"I have two options, Malfoy. The first is to actually answer your questions."
"Which I think is best," he suggested with narrowed eyes. I ignored that.
"And the second is to obliviate you."
He frowned. "Oblivating more than a minute is dangerous."
I shook my head. "Not if you know how to reach into the mind and replace it all. It's actually easier than obvliviating. Don't even need a wand."
"The only people I've heard that can do that are the clan priestesses in Italy."
I smirked at the loose translation of Sacerdotessa. "The name is Sacerdotessa. And I am one." Malfoy blinked at me. His magic swirled around me again. He was even more confused and… "Why are you worried?" I asked before I could stop myself. Malfoy's eyes flicked up to mine, more questions flashing through them.
"Are you being hunted because you're a Sacerdotessa?" he returned, and it took me a moment to realize that answer meant his worry was focused on me. He, Draco Malfoy, was worried about my, Hermione Granger's, safety. Salazar must be rolling in his grave. If that didn't make my decision, nothing would.
"Partially. Sit down, Malfoy. This is going to be a long talk." Malfoy moved to do as I asked, sitting in the armchair closest to him. I moved around to sit on the sofa, as far from him as I could get. "What do you know about the magical world in Italy?"
"Not much. Just that they're divided into structured clans and they live within the clans their entire lives. And the Fenice is at the top of them all."
"That's true, though it isn't quite as prison-like as you made it sound," I said and he looked away. His magic was almost bashful. I smiled. A bashful Malfoy. That would be the day. "We call the clans dinastias. Every magical child, including muggle-borns, is educated within the dinastia that they belong to. They can choose to live wherever they want, but they answer to their Padrone, or leader."
"Sounds simple enough."
"That being said, if you are given a direct order from the Padrone it is physically impossible to go against it. It is something that is rarely done, but done all the same. It's why I'm here while my people fight for their lives. My father and brother have both ordered me to stay." And I could kill them for it.
"How does that work?"
"Every member of a Dinastia is given a tattoo when they chose a career at the age of ten, or five in cases like mine. The tattoo, along with showing the world where you belong, connects our individual magic to the Padrone. Through that he can order us as he chooses."
"That's awful." His magic was horrified.
"There are limits in place," I assured him. "We cannot be ordered to our deaths or physical harm, nor to kill or harm others. And if we somehow end up in a situation where we could die or get hurt anyway, the will to survive will always trump the order. We cannot be made into slaves, our free will must remain intact."
Malfoy's magic felt mollified. "At least there's that."
"At least there's that," I agreed.
He was silent for a moment, thinking. "Where did you live?"
"In the Fenice Fortezza. But my father was the Padrone so there wasn't another option."
"So you're a princess?" His magic felt a little excited at the idea.
"No. The children of a Padrone aren't given titles," I corrected. "The job does pass by blood, but it simply goes to the oldest child living. No extra titles."
"So you aren't the oldest?"
"I'm the youngest. I have a brother and a sister. Alexiares, my brother, is my Padrone now. My sister, Eirenne, is the Comandante. She's in charge of our army."
"You have an army?"
"Every dinastia has one. It's really more of a militia, just big enough to protect ourselves. The dinastias have a history of fighting. Do you know what World War I is?"
"Muggle war, right?"
"But it started out between the dinastias. The Serpe wanted something from the Lupo. They managed to smuggle it out of Italy, but the Serpe found it again and Franz Ferdinand was caught in the middle."
"Remind me to never get on the bad side of the Serpe."
I snorted. "No one should. They're the ones fighting my dinastia now. They killed my grandfather in an attempt to take us over and gain power. Then they killed my mother and father, forcing my brother and sister to take their places long before they should have had to." Malfoy was silent for a long moment, his magic turning somber.
"Who was Riccarda?" The knives slammed through my heart again, making tears prick my eyes. I forced them down. I would have time to cry later, in private. He'd already seen me cry one too many times. Until I could be alone I had to focus. I had to act as Riccarda would expect.
"She was the Sacerdotessa that trained me. There are three in every dinastia, but Riccarda was the most powerful and their leader. She picked me to be her predecessor. I spent almost every moment with her from the day I turned five and she chose me. I finished the training early, but we still spent every day together until I came here."
"Of course you finished it early. You're Hermione Granger." He faltered, narrowing his eyes at me, "Though you aren't Hermione Granger. Are you?"
"No." I looked at my hands. "My name is Hemera Gervasio."
"So what else have you lied about?" I frowned at the accusing tone, but I knew I deserved it.
"Well I actually love quidditch and I'm an incredible chaser. The Italian National team had just asked me to sign with them two days before I had to leave." Malfoy's eyebrows shot up.
"You came here when you were fourteen."
"Yes, but since I'd finished my training I was considered an adult in the magical world there."
"So you're an incredibly powerful Italian princess who's good enough at quidditch to play professionally at fourteen."
I chuckled. When he put it like that it made me feel like a bit of a ponce. "I told you, I'm not a princess."
"I count it. What else?"
"Did I lie about?" He nodded. I gave a shrug. "I'm not really as obsessed with studying as I pretend to be."
"So when you're studying in the library, you're really… what?"
I shrugged again. "Trying to keep my mind busy, mostly. It was something Dumbledore came up with we were discussing my alias. Everyone in Italy knew that it had been easy for me to complete my rather difficult training. The fact that it took no effort on my part to learn to be a Sacerdotessa was something often talked about. Dumbledore seemed to think that, if people saw me studying often, they would think my ease came from that."
"Do you study at all then?"
"Not really," I admitted, "I sort of already know all of this." Malfoy's left eyebrow shot up.
"What do you mean?"
"The magic of a Sacerdotessa is incredibly advanced. I learned all of the things we're learning this year around the time I was seven."
"So you're intelligence was never exaggerated then." I bit my lip, embarrassed. Alex and Eirenne always made fun of me for that. "Is there anything else you lied about?"
"I think the only other thing is that I'm not a muggle-born, but I'm sure you already figured that out." Malfoy blinked at me for a few seconds, not comprehending, then his magic was suddenly flooded with shame.
"Merlin, I'm such an arse." He dropped his head in his hands.
"A little," I agreed, "But I promise you didn't hurt my feelings."
"And that makes it better?" he asked indignantly, looking up at me through his fingers.
"No. No it doesn't." Part of me was pleased that he still felt bad. Did that mean Nice-Malfoy was going to be here from now on? I hoped so. Nice-Malfoy had smelled fantastic. I shook that thought out of my head. Bad Hemera.
"I really am sorry, Gra—er, uh, what did you say your last name was?" I raised and eyebrow at that.
"What's wrong with my given name?"
"We've never called each other by our given names," he said as if I was being ridiculous.
"Malfoy, you're the only person I've ever told this story to. Not even Harry and Ron know, and I lived in a tent with them for a year. I think that means you can call me Hemera." Malfoy's mouth turned up in half smile that made my heart flutter. It wasn't quite as nice as his full smile, but I'd take it.
"Only if you call me Draco." I blinked at him. Well, it was a fair condition…
"Okay. Draco." His smile turned up higher and I had to give myself a good mental shake. What was I doing here? This wasn't the time to have odd feelings for a boy that suddenly didn't hate me anymore. I chewed at my bottom lip as I pulled my legs up under me, trying to get more comfortable. I could feel more curiosity bubbling in his magic.
"So," Malfoy started, moving on from the name thing, "these tattoos you mentioned, where's yours?"
"In a place you'll probably never see." Malfoy's eyes widened and I smirked. "It's between my shoulder-blades, Ma-Draco." He smirked at my almost slipup. "I tend not to wear clothes that reveal that part of my body on an everyday basis."
"What's the design?"
"A phoenix. I do happen to belong to the phoenix dinastia."
"Is that what Fenice means?" I nodded.
"All the dinastias are named after animals, and so their tattoos are of their animal," I explained. "The Drago have a dragon on their right hips, the Lupo have a wolf on their left biceps, the Volpe have a fox on the back of their right hands, and the Serpe have a snake on the back of their left knees."
"That's why I saw something on Professor Monetti's hand earlier." I barely contained a flinch at the name. I didn't like the reminder of my mother. "You mentioned you were cousins, though."
"On my mother's side. Her sister married into the Volpe. Its actually rather common to marry into a different Dinastia."
"What happens when you do?" I frowned and tilted my head. I didn't know what he meant. "Say you married a Volpe, would you stay a Fenice or would you become Volpe? Or would your husband become Fenice?"
"Oh, I would become loyal to the Volpe. Dinastia lines are based on the husband or father. But I can't do that, so in the long run it doesn't matter."
"Why not? Can't you marry anyone you want?"
I shook my head. "Because I am Sacerdotessa I have a duty to my dinastia. I have to stay within it. So if I marry, I have to marry within the Fenice. Or someone who wasn't Italian. But most Sacerdotessa don't marry. Men tend to be afraid of us, especially the more powerful ones."
"And where exactly do you lie on the scale of powerful?"
"Honestly?" He nodded. "I'm the most powerful Sacerdotessa anyone's ever known."
Malfoy smirked at me. "And humble, too."
I rolled my eyes. "You asked," I reminded him. "And I'm not perfect. I'm still working on building up a resistance to rue. It's just something that takes time." Malfoy smirk fell and his magic felt contemplative.
"Is that why you're allergic to it?"
"To become a Sacerdotessa, one must connect to the magic around them. That's why we don't need wands or words, the magic around us follows our every thought. It flows in and out of us like breath, and, at the end of our training, we need it almost as badly as air to survive." Malfoy's magic was surprised, though his eyes remained blank. "Rue works by blocking the body's ability to accept magic."
"So it'll kill you."
"If given enough, yes." I suddenly realized what I'd just told him. Riccarda would kill me if she could. "You mustn't tell anyone that, Draco. It is a secret we keep very quiet."
"I won't. I promise." I could feel his conviction to keep that promise in his magic and it made me feel a little better. I eased back into the relaxed position I hadn't realized I'd vacated. There was a loud banging that suddenly boomed through our small silence. I heard the voices of Harry and Ron, yelling at for me to open up.
"Merda," I cursed, staring at the portrait whole. What was I going to tell them?
"Ah, the Golden Duo," Malfoy said, eyes following mine.
"How am I supposed to explain this to them? They don't even know I'm actually Italian."
"Really?"
"I told you, Draco. You're the only one that knows anything." His eyes shot up to mine and then flashed away again. His magic swirled around faster and I could feel that he was trying to make a decision, but what decision I didn't know. He rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting my eyes. Finally his magic slowed back down and he gave a very small sigh.
"Go to your bedroom, and if you hear anyone coming up pretend to be asleep." I blinked. Why?
"But Harry and Ron—"
"Are going to be told that you don't feel well." I blinked again. He was helping me. Maybe Nice-Malfoy really was sticking around for good. "Now hurry. They're going to bust down the door." I jumped up to do as he told me, running to my bedroom and throwing off my school robes before slipping into bed.
"Would you two shut up!" I heard Mal-Draco yell before the portrait hole opened and my two best friend's voices were suddenly very loud.
"Where is she, Malfoy?" Ron demanded, and I knew just from the tone that his ears were probably the color of his hair.
"Zabini told us you came straight here after defense against the dark arts, just like she did," Harry added, sounding much less angry and much more worried.
"If you stop yelling I'll tell you," Draco said, an annoyed edge to his voice. Normal-Malfoy was out to play, and he wasn't happy. "I got here just as she was going up the stairs. She mentioned something about not feeling good and going to bed."
"Why didn't she say anything to us?" Ron asked, sounding more annoyed than angry now.
"How am I supposed to know, Weasley? We don't exactly sit around talking about our feelings." Well, that wasn't quite true, now, was it?
"Its okay, Ron. We know where she is now. Did she mention when she was planning on waking up?"
"If she did I wasn't listening." I heard Ron snort derisively, but he didn't say anything.
"Alright. Um, thanks, I guess." There was a short pause as everyone realized what Harry had just said. I was so surprised I almost gasped. Maybe Slytherins weren't the only ones changing for the better this year.
"Just don't scream at the portrait hole again. Nearly burst my ear drums," Draco said gruffly, but not meanly. It was his way of saying your welcome. There was another long pause and then I heard someone coming up the stairs. "They're gone," Draco said through the door. I got of bed and opened it. His magic instantly invaded my room.
"Thank you, Draco."
He shook his head. "That's the second thank you I've gotten today that I'd never thought I'd hear."
"Well, you'll probably get a few more from me this year." He didn't seem to have a reply to that. He was too busy looking over my shoulder into my room.
"So when you said this was your room from back home…"
"I meant it was my room from back in Italy, yes." I stepped back so he had a better view of my beautiful room.
"And you said you weren't a book worm," he teased, eyes twinkling. I smiled in spite of myself. Nice Malfoy had a way of making me forget Normal Malfoy.
"I never said that. I said I didn't need to study here. There's a difference."
He smirked at me. "Whatever you say, Hemera." I blinked, caught off guard. My real name sounded so odd yet so pleasant coming off his lips. It made me want to be in his arms again. I settled for beaming at him instead.
"You should know by now that I'm always right." His smirk turned into a small smile, which slowly faded into a frown as his magic turned almost sorrowful. "What's wrong?" I asked, once more commenting on something I wasn't supposed to know. This time he kept the curiosity out of his eyes, though. He simply looked at me, almost as if he was trying to figure out what he was going to say.
"I'm sorry about Riccarda," he finally murmured, eyes soft and gentle. I blinked, taken by surprise. Her name coming out of nowhere like that made tears fill my eyes again. I tried to force them back, but there was something about the way he was looking at me that made it impossible.
"I—" I had no idea what to say. He stepped closer, enveloping me in his incredible scent again. His eyes drilled holes into my soul, filling me and emptying me at the same time. I didn't understand what I was feeling. I didn't understand what he was feeling.
"Its good to cry sometimes," he said gently, reaching up to brush away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen. His touch was my undoing. I burst into tears for the second time that day and his arms went around me in an instant, pulling me tightly to his chest.
He held me until I couldn't possibly cry anymore then, without a word, led me over to my bed and helped me under the covers. I fell asleep instantly, completely and utterly spent.