Chapter Fifteen: What Is Needed
It wasn't often the three Slytherins found themselves in each other's presence. They struck an opposing sight as they entered the Muggle establishment, one after the other. The Minister for Magic arrived last, sans his Auror guard, and slid into the semi-circular booth across from his former housemates. "Evening, Narcissa, Severus," he greeted them.
Narcissa lowered the hood of her cloak to reveal an intricate up-do. "It is good to see you, Kingsley. IYou haven't visited Crestmoor since this summer," the Malfoy matriarch feigned offense.
Kingsley replied with little need to embellish, "Narcissa, I would love to spend days in your garden as opposed to the bores in the Wizengamot. I see the summer air is treating you well. Besides, I am here, am I not? Do you know how difficult it was to slip past my detail for this little rendezvous?"
"Oh, I've read all about the Wizengamot's latest activities," Narcissa did not mask her disgust. "I read in the paper how the latest decree allows seventeen-year-olds to join the Auror program. How could they, Kingsley, they are just children!"
Severus replied from his place in between them, "Some of my seventh years and sixth years have already planned to enroll once the school year has ended."
"And as their professor, do you feel they possess the capability and proficiency to duel seasoned wizards?" Narcissa grilled.
Severus shrugged, "That is for the Auror program to decide, but the Dark Lord is keen to make an example of the Ministry's folly, I'm sure."
Kingsley sighed, feeling stuck in between, "Personally, I wasn't for the measure, but how could I deny my former colleagues the opportunity? The Auror program is drastically under-resourced. Alabaster feels he can effectively recruit and train the new crop to meet the war efforts' demands. And I can't deny that it in is sync with the Ministry's overall strategy to deal with this uprising."
"Speaking of efforts and strategic planning…" Severus started. He paused as a waitress set a tray of three mugs before them.
"I gathered that is why we are meeting at a Muggle pub, as opposed to somewhere in our world?" Kingsley asked, once the waitress had left.
"It is. I gathered Narcissa has owled you the generalities?" Severus asked to Kingsley.
The Minister nodded his head to Narcissa. "She was vague, but I believe I got the point. Are you sure this is wise?"
"Even I know the answer to that," Narcissa scoffed. "I grew livid with Severus when he informed me about this ridiculous undertaking, and remain cross to this daya."
"Is everything going well?" Kingsley pried, careful not to reveal too much. One could never be sure who was listening.
"It would be better if you did not know," Severus took a sip from his mug before continuing, "Though, there is one matter you should probably be aware of."
Kingsley sat back in foreboding. "Yes?" he asked slowly, glancing between the two. Narcissa looked worried, and Severus remained blank. But even he had a tell. The Potions professor traced a single finger around the rim of his mug, and replied, "Your daughter."
Kingsley's brows dropped in concern. "Is she alright?"
Severus frowned, "She and Draco continue to sickeningly carry on. It's revolting, but, nevertheless, she is fine."
Narcissa picked up for him, impatient, "It's Draco. You see, he's been given this task."
"An impossible task," Severus interjected.
Narcissa nodded in agreement. "A task that is only known by a select few."
"Does Dumbledore know about this?" Kingsley asked, disturbed at what was being discussed.
Narcissa nodded. "I'm afraid he does."
"He does not believe Draco can carry it out on his own," Severus took a generous sip of his drink. "I'm inclined to believe him."
"What is this 'task'?" Kingsley pried carefully. Narcissa and Severus shared a heavy look, to which Kingsley frowned. "Let me guess, it's better for me not to know that as well?"
Narcissa reached across the table and placed her gloved hand over a fist that had balled in frustration. "It's not for wanting to keep secrets, you must know that," she explained. "There are some things that you, as Minister, just cannot be aware of."
"Because I am Minister, I am aware of a great deal of things!" he argued in a fierce whisper, ever careful not to raise his voice in the small establishment.
"But it is better not to know this." Narcissa sighed, unsure how to carry on, "I can't be certain how much Draco has shared with Hermione…"
"For what he tells me, she is unaware as well," Severus supplied.
"Then why am I here?" Kingsley interrupted them. "You cannot tell me this task." Exasperated, he huffed, "What do you expect me to do?"
Severus leaned forward. "I will be frank. Draco will need assistance, and I fear for his success, which is key to many pieces, already set in motion. Dumbledore will not say it aloud, for he doesn't want to see himself as responsible, but I know better. Your daughter is the key to Draco's success."
"You want Emmeline to assist Draco in a task, which I know nothing about?"
Severus clarified, "We want you to write her and encourage her to be open to Draco's call for help should he ask. For my part, I will work to persuade Draco to seek your daughter's assistance."
Narcissa squeezed Kingsley's hand and implored, "Please, my son's life hangs in the balance."
"More than your son's life, to be sure," Severus replied with foreboding.
Kingsley eyed the pair with grave concern. "A matter of life and death you say, and you want me to nudge my daughter into the thick of it? As a father, how could I possibly agree to something like this?"
"As a mother, how could I sit by and do nothing to help my son?" she countered just as equally. "And you forget Kingsley, that I care for Hermione as much as I care for my son. I wish no harm upon her, and it is why it doubly wounds me to ask such a thing."
"Perhaps, see this another way," Severus intervened between the two parents. "We both know Ms. Granger is predisposed to peril. It is a foregone conclusion, given her familiarity with Mr. Potter, that she will play a role in the war to come. It is a matter of when and how much, Kingsley. You know this. You saw it the night she ran off to the Ministry after Potter's delusions, and now that she is of age, I've no doubt it will happen again. I cannot give you the answers you seek tonight, but there are things in motion, that if not handled properly, will leave the Order and its efforts in disarray, I daresay by the end of the school year."
"What it is in motion, Severus? Narcissa? Give me something I can work with!" Kingsley argued back, hating to be left in the dark. "I agree with you about my daughter's tendencies. She is loyal to her friends. But I will not urge her willingly into a trap."
"Draco will need help. Help he will not take from me, or Severus, or anyone else, save maybe Hermione," Narcissa pleaded with rare tears in her eyes. "And if there is anyone intelligent and thoughtful enough I trust to see him through it, it is her. I trust her to see him through, to see the both of them through. Severus says they have grown close at school. And if this relationship is to flourish, they will need each other more and more. Especially with what is to come," she finished.
After that, Kingsley sat back and thought over the situation. Neither option seemed agreeable, but it seemed as if the two before him had exhausted every avenue if they had come to him with this plea. With a quick prayer to Marie to watch over the daughter, he sighed, "What is it you want me to do?"
7 December 1997
My dearest Emme,
I hope this letter finds you well. I know my correspondence has been few and far between, and for that, I ask your forgiveness. I hear from Minerva and Albus often and though they tell me how you are faring in classes (I never doubted for a moment you could not handle the workload), they cannot expand on how you are really doing. Words on parchment can only convey so much, but I hope you are enjoying your time at school and the other students are treating you well. I know news of the war's encroaching corners on our world are a constant, but I pray you can find solace at Hogwarts before it overtakes us all.
I also heard you and Draco are doing well. Narcissa reports that he has written home about you, a first for any witch, I'm told. I know you both share a difficult past, but I can honestly say it pleases me to hear of this latest development. I find the key to any relationship, friendship or otherwise, is honesty. Let it be the bedrock of any relationship you cultivate. I was with your mother for a short two years, but we made a promise to always be honest with the other. It made for a difficult period in the beginning, but it repaid us with a love unlike any other I had experienced then or now. But I digress. Enjoy the last few weeks of the term, and I will see you when the term dismisses.
Until then,
Your father,
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Hermione folded the letter, coated with the Minister for Magic's seal, and added it to her collection of letters within her trunk. To be honest, she felt very guilty. She had not thought of her father, adopted parents, the Ministry, or anything else outside of school since the term began. Hogwarts had an uncanny way of making her feel cocooned from the outside world, though she tried to remain up to date with her Prophet subscription. And while the school had not been untouched from the tendrils of evil over the years, it was still easy to think of Hogwarts as generally safe. But Kingsley's letter brought the reality that awaited them all back to her mind.
The school was about to break for the winter holidays. Some students would return back to the Muggle world, others would remain on guard within the Wizarding world. The threat of attacks from Voldemort grew daily. Pushing away such thoughts for another time, she pulled out a cashmere sweater she favored ever since she had received it. She was reminded of the exquisite tastes her godmother possessed when the the maroon and gold sweater arrived as a birthday gift.
Dressing away from her roommates in the girls' lavatory, she quickly donned the sweater and pulled on a pair of Muggle jeans. The two pieces hardly matched (one was top of the line, and the other was comfortable and rather standard fare), but it would do for a Sunday. The entire school was either hunkered in the library or their dorms polishing final assignments and projects. Her diligent assignment planning had allowed her to take the morning off.
There was no one in the common room, still ravaged from a party the previous night, as she pushed through the portrait door. Her heart stitched as the door swung back to reveal Draco waiting outside. He was also drabbed in causal, but still impeccable, wear. She grew jealous at how someone could make wearing all black look so attractive.
Draco gave one of those dazzling smiles he saved just for her as he pushed off the wall. "Good morning."
"Good morning," she replied, equally unable to stop herself from smiling shyly. The two stared at each other for a moment, before he offered his arm, to which she eagerly took. Leisurely, they took their time as they made their way to the Great Hall. "Late night?" she wagered, immediately noticing the mark of sleeplessness about his eyes.
As the close of the term approached, there had been less and less time to see the other, but it was mutually understood that coursework came first. Something within her fought against the notion, but it was impossible to spend every waking moment together, no matter how much she pined to be by his side. He brought her a sense of calm like nothing else could. Not even Hogwarts, A History! She leaned into his arm as he yawned.
"Yeah. I have this project. The answers have been alluding me." He squeezed her arm closer to him in jest. "Don't worry, I'll get it though."
Hermione resisted frowning. This was the third time he had met her completely exhausted after a late night. And the extra hours was not from any project she knew of – they had completed almost all of their work for the term already. But as she had two times before, she left the door open for Draco to fill her in, "Well, should you ever need help… Brightest-witch-and-all-that?"
He smiled and placed a kiss to the back of her hand, but would say nothing further.
They entered the Entrance Hall, and for a brief moment, Hermione met the gaggle of Gryffindors' stares head-on. Most of the table leered at her with contempt, namely the Weasleys and their friends; while Neville and Harry looked confounded and quite literally, stuck.
Draco steered her towards the Slytherin table where she had been dining the past week, if she ate in the Great Hall at all. Things had soured between her and her friends ever since the incident. Apparently, Ron told everyone Hermione had been behind the hex that maimed his sister, but had conveniently left out the true reason why Ginny sported the branding. Hermione didn't know what ridiculous story Ron fed their House, but whatever it was, it had been enough to sour some of them against her. Thankfully a few, like Harry and Neville, didn't believe Ron and Ginny's lies, but they couldn't exactly call the duo out on it.
For all her courage and fondness for the truth, Hermione could not bring herself to out Harry's girlfriend. She would switch the subject whenever Harry tried to speak with her about it. She figured she could wait until things had cooled to tell him the truth, but knew when the moment came, the betrayal and pain would isolate Harry from his best friend even further. And she did not want to be the one to do that to Harry, not after everything he had gone through. So, that left Ron to own up to the truth, for Ginny seemed set in her fabrication of the events in question. Each day that passed without Ron telling Harry the truth left Hermione stewing in even more anger.
All of this left her with a icy, at best, atmosphere during meal times. Things at the table of lions had gotten so heated one day, that Draco came and plucked her from the table. In front of everyone, he escorted her and her plate across the Hall to his table. She had been sitting there ever since.
Back in the present, Hermione caught eyes with Harry across the room, but immediately caught the glare of Ron beside him. Her gaze morphed from one of forlorn to unforgiving ice as she turned and sat down among the snakes.
A few Slytherins nodded their heads at her, seemingly accepting her presence beside Draco, and continued their meals in silence. She huffed as she started to fill her plate with an assortment of breakfast goods.
"Still haven't told Potter he's surrounded by liars?" Draco asked as she stabbed at a piece of sausage.
She frowned to her plate before replying, "I'm not that vindictive. As much as I would love to see Ginny and Ron get their comeuppance, I can't do that to Harry. He'd have no one left. And right before the Christmas hols, that'd be cruel."
Draco shrugged as he tucked into his plate. "He'd still have you."
"True, but even I realize that Harry and Ron share something that I, alone, cannot replace. They're fond of Quidditch, Ron's family is the one he never had. No, I'm afraid Ron will have to sort that out on his own. He's always looked to me to clean up his mess. This time, he's on his own."
"Remind me never to cross you, ice princess," Draco teased the witch.
"Remind yourself never to betray me," she shot back with a wink.
All in all, Hermione found it rather easy to break bread among the snakes. The conversation often turned to the politics of the day, which she found intriguing. She shared what she knew via her father, but for the most part, the Slytherins accepted her into the conversation handily.
Even some of the witches, who Hermione had ignorantly dismissed before as vapid and shallow, welcomed her into their circles. All except Pansy, of course. Pansy sulked further down the bench, but Hermione was happy to converse with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis about holiday plans. It wasn't long before the conversation ended, as the students departed the Hall to finish their assignments. But she and Draco were free, and were the only students who remained on the bench, along with a few first years.
Hermione sipped her coffee, turning her attention to the Slytherin. "I heard from my father today," she started carefully. Draco was still sore about his father's arrest and Kingsley's inattention, to what Draco believed, was a trivial venture to free his daughter's Godfather. Hermione quickly learned after a heated altercation that she and Draco were never going to see eye-to-eye on Lucius Malfoy, and the subject was best left alone.
But even still, Draco gave her his full attention, "And what news is there from the Ministry?"
"Nothing this time about Ministry business. Actually, I think he was trying to give me relationship advice," she laughed at the pink tinge that started around Draco's neck. It was rare to catch the Malfoy heir off guard. She took pleasure in the small ways she caused him to blush.
He quickly recovered, as he always did. "Oh, really? And what was it?"
She fiddled with her charmed bracelet. "Oh, the usual. Always be honest, and the like."
"And have you?" he questioned with a smirk. "Have you been completely honest in all your relationships?"
"Well, as you know the situation with Harry and Ron is quite complicated, and you know my thoughts on the matter," she began before he interrupted her.
"I'm talking about your relationship with me, Hermione."
She unsuccessfully tried to suppress the grin that threatened to escape. Statements like that made her Veela sing. She bit her lip in effort to keep from snogging the hell out of him right there. "Oh, had we defined what we are?" Though she teased, Hermione was a very by-the-book sort of witch. While both she and Draco had been comfortable spending time with the other, in the context of what awaited them, neither had been in rush to proclaim the other as spoken for. The school did enough of that for them already. Her Veela had been ready to proclaim from the top of the Astronomy Tower that he was hers, and hers alone, but propriety bade her to wait. Besides, there was a matter they had yet to discuss…
"And I thought we were being honest with each other?" he pestered.
She took a healthy sip of her coffee and turned to face him on the bench. "If we're truly being honest, then you'd tell me what's been keeping you up late at night lately." She watched as the smile slid from his face. Just like that, playful Draco had shut down. Undeterred, she pressed on, "I know you've completed nearly all of our assignments. We the share the same schedule, and unless it's a project I'm unaware of…"
"Lay off, ok?" Draco looked around to see if any other Slytherins were close enough to overhear the conversation.
"Why? What is it?" Her Veela sat to attention within as it picked up certain details a human never could: Draco's accelerated heartbeat, the nervousness, the anxiety, fear. Hermione gasped with the realization – Draco was afraid of something.
"Something that doesn't concern you, is what," Draco clipped as he stood, ready to leave the Hall.
She stood, too, prepared to follow. Ever watchful of those who remained, she kept her voice low, less more rumors started that evening. "Do you really think that will stop me?"
Both waited until they had passed the entrance to the Great Hall, before she started again, more freely, "Draco, I can tell something is the matter. You've been terribly stressed these past few weeks, when I know the school work hasn't been that demanding for you."
"Wonderful of you to notice."
She huffed in frustration, "I more than notice. I care!" she blurted the truth out suddenly. If she had overstepped a line they had yet to define, then so be it. But she wouldn't sit idly by and do nothing while her mate suffered needlessly. "I hope you know you're welcome to share anything with me. I won't judge you for it, or lecture you. I honestly care if it's enough to cause insomnia."
Something in his demeanor softened as he regarded her, before he closed off again. "Be that as it may, it isn't something that concerns you, Hermione. I need to meet with Severus in a few," he started to back away. "I'll come find you for dinner?" he asked, signaling the end to their conversation.
But she wasn't done yet.
She watched him turn sharply for the stairway that led to the dungeons. While the logical part of her told her to give him the space he requested, her Veela pushed to pursue. Her mate needed help. Her feet were swift and light as she bounded down the steps behind him, two and three at a time. She walked a familiar path to Professor Snape's living quarters. Like any other Slytherin, he preferred his quarters down in the dungeons.
Quietly approaching the locked door, she worried this decision crossed an imaginary line. But as if moving automatically, she jerked her wand in the complicated pattern before she unlocked the door and dismantled the ward someone had hastily put in place. Creeping through the cracked-open door, she edged as close as possible until she could hear the distinct voices of Draco and Professor Snape tangled in heated discussion.
"There is little less than six months remaining, and yet you are still not any closer," Snape badgered.
"I'm closer than where I began," Draco argued back. "We need more time."
Wearily Snape replied, "Time is running out, Draco, and we need assurances."
"And you will have it," Draco promised.
A voice Hermione did not expect joined the conversation between Godfather and Godson. "I hate that something so vital has been left to one so young, but surely Mr. Malfoy, you can understand my dilemma." Could it be?
Hermione stepped out of the doorway into the small living area, the shock too great to remain hidden. "Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, completely bewildered.
The Headmaster wrapped his hands behind his back, and greeted her as if he had been expecting her. "Ah, Ms. Granger. So good of you to join us. Please, do come in."
Hermione looked beyond Hogwarts' Headmaster to Professor Snape and Draco behind him, huddled over piles of parchment and a coffee table. A red vein of frustration begun to appear at Draco's temple as she moved into the room. Snape stepped back with a scowl, but made no move to object. Snape gave Draco a lifted brow, as if to ask if this was his doing.
Dumbledore ignored the non-conversation behind him and greeted her, "My dear, I'm glad you can join us." He looked around to Draco and Snape, who wore mismatched expressions: one nodded in approval, the other shook their head, obviously disagreeing to the decision she was not aware had been made. "I believe your voice is what we need at the moment," Dumbledore asserted. "Your timing is, as the Muggles say, 'spot on'."
an: Holy cow, Batman! I'm so overwhelmed by your response to this story - thank you all so very much! Til next time~L