A/N. I've started re-reading Shoebox Project again because I like to torture myself with "feels" (I've recently learned how to use that word properly).
Things have been crazy! I'm moving again (ugh, I know, it's the absolute worst, all the packing). Remus's first birthday is a month and a half away though! Yippee! He's so big and I cannot believe how time flies. I remember being pregnant with him and writing The Last Marauder. Crazy! Absolutely crazy!
Okay, there's a lot of set up and a few things that needed to be taken care of before we can get to the nitty gritty. This is a busy story, so a lot will be happening that needs to be set up. I hope you enjoy the build-up.
…~oOo~…
Chapter Seven: In Which the Dreams Return
"I have to say, I cannot believe this," Hermione said, never so serious in her life. It had taken a lot for her to buckle down and be the disciplinarian. She channeled her inner-Minerva and gave each of the four students sitting in front of her cold, hard glares. "Stealing, blackmail, drugging your professors… I'm appalled. Extremely disappointed."
Yvette pouted like no one had ever pouted before. Adam looked ashamed and Chelsea's head was hung low. Margot, though, looked only slightly embarrassed, but mostly frustrated. It was the look kids got on their face when they weren't ashamed of misbehaving, but of getting caught.
"You were the first class of Muggle-borns I took on and I did it because I knew you'd be afraid and ostracized in your world," Hermione said, pacing in front of them, her hands clasped behind her back. "I wanted you to give you a place to be yourself, just like Hogwarts had done for me. And you repay me by lacing my food with potions? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" she stressed. "What if I, or one of the other teachers, had been allergic to one of its ingredients? What is Mr. Malfoy had eaten the pie and not been the only one capable to sort everything out? It was a mess, but it could have been a lot worse.
"Now," Hermione stared each of them down, "Yvette has told me what she knows. I'm unnerved that the three of you actually prepared someone to take the fall for you. Does anyone want to fess up to exactly what you did? I'm mostly concerned with how you got your hands on that potion. I know none of you brewed it, so don't lie to me."
The kids all exchanged looked but remained silent.
"That was not a suggestion," Hermione snapped. "You're all in trouble anyway, you may as well make this easier for yourselves. Did you have one of the older kids buy or brew it for you?"
"He didn't know what it was for," Chelsea spoke up, her head still hung low.
Hermione stared at her for a moment. She had definitely not been expecting Chelsea to be the first one to speak.
"I lied to him," Chelsea explained.
"Who?" Hermione asked.
"I don't want to say," Chelsea said very slowly, her voice trembling. "It isn't his fault."
And Hermione immediately knew the answer. Of course. The Weasley twins. She had a memory of looking at love potions in their shop with the half-baked idea to slip on in Ron's pumpkin juice. She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn't going to punish all of the older and younger kids by revoking the workshops with the twins, but she would be having a firm talking-to with those boys and giving under-aged witches and wizards potions.
"You'll all be serving detention for the next two weeks and won't be allowed to attend the Mr. Fred and George's monthly classes for the rest of the year," Hermione decided. "And you all gain an hour on your curfew for the month. I'd say I'm going easy on you, considering your little conspiracy could have killed one of us had we been allergic. I hope you've all learned a valuable lesson."
"But I was blackmailed!" Yvette exclaimed, aghast. "I had no choice!"
"We all have a choice, Yvette," Hermione said. "You should have come immediately to me when this all started."
Yvette started sniffling like she was going to cry.
"Out, all of you," Hermione said. "Next time you all cause such trouble the punishment will be much worse, I assure you."
All of the kids dragged themselves out of their seats and walked out sluggishly. They looked suitably reprimanded. Good.
Part of her wanted to smile, though. Their schemes had brought her back to years of setting her professor's robes on fire. Frankly, she didn't know whether to be infuriated or impressed that they came up with such a plan. For goodness sake, stealing was one thing – she'd stolen from Snape's potion stores – but blackmail? She wasn't sure whose idea that was, but among the four, one of them had to be a Slytherin for orchestrating it.
Hermione went to the library. It wasn't as big as Hogwarts' library, but it was full of old, dusty texts from different families over the years. She even found one with Dumbledore's handwriting in it, the distinctive looping scrawl. She was looking for something on her next lesson – they were getting into Grindelwald's war – when she heard the library door open and poked her head around the corner of the shelf to see who'd come in.
"Harry," she said with a wide smile.
"I always know where to find you," Harry said with a grin. "What are you looking for?"
"Something on Gellert Grindelwald's life before he became a warlord," she answered, sliding a book back into place. "Do you need me for anything?"
"Nothing really, I just wanted to chat," Harry said, glancing down at his feet a few times and scratching the back of his neck. "Truth is, I'm a bit embarrassed about yesterday."
"Aren't we all," Hermione said on a sigh. "It's alright, Harry. We were under the influence of a very weird potion."
"I know that," Harry said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Still, it made me start to think, you know? About us."
"'Us' the Order? Or 'us', you and I?" Hermione said hesitantly.
"You and me," Harry confirmed. "We've never really talked about it."
"It?" Hermione asked, confused.
"You know," Harry said, obviously feeling awkward. His cheeks were tinged pink, and this was not a man who was embarrassed easily. "You saved me from wherever I was and I came back and ever since, I just felt like you and I had gotten pretty close."
"Of course, you're my best friend."
"Yes, but Ron is my best friend and it never felt like this, really," Harry said, leaning against a book case.
"Ron has…changed," Hermione said, thinking about their old friend. The injury to Ron's leg left more than a physical scar on him. He's become withdrawn, grumpy, and more cynical than ever. It was a shame, truly. No one could carry on a conversation with him without Ron becoming snippy. "We all have," Hermione acknowledged.
"So…you don't feel it?" Harry said, looking crestfallen.
"Honestly, I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be feeling," Hermione said. "I adore you. You're my dearest friend. I would have gone through the Veil a hundred times if that had been what it took to bring you back. And I know you'd do the same for me."
Harry took a deep breath. "I care about you, Hermione. I don't know when it started, but I do. Deeply. I'd been so confused these last few months. I didn't know if it was just the gratitude I feel towards you and our friendship, but after yesterday… I know. I want you to look at me the way you look at Malfoy."
Swallowing, Hermione felt her palms getting sweaty. "I… Malfoy and I… it's not…"
"It's not like that, I know," Harry said, nodding. "Which is why I have to tell you now. While the iron is still hot. While I still have a chance."
Hermione didn't know what to say. Harry was looking at Hermione with his big green eyes, seeming every bit confused as she was. The Boy Wonder's heart was always his weak point, the people he loved. She remembered how fiercely he protected Ginny when they had been together and about how forlorn and nervous he'd been while he was infatuated with Cho.
"Harry, I… if you're saying what I think you are…"
"I am," Harry said with a firm nod.
"Then… I'm flattered," Hermione said honestly. "But we both know that we're better as friends. With Ron –"
"I'm not Ron," Harry said, taking a step forward. "I think that much is obvious. I won't run off to the East without a moment's notice. I won't get passive aggressive or mean just because I fancy you. That isn't me."
"I know –"
"Then why can't this work?" Harry asked.
"I… just… Harry, it's so complicated and…"
"I remember the meeting," Harry said, nodding. "I know part of you wants Malfoy. But he's no good for you," he said, echoing Hermione's thoughts. "But I could be."
With her heart pounding, Hermione tried to form a coherent answer in her mind. Logically, there wasn't a reason why it couldn't work. They were best friends, both loyal, both enjoyed each other's company. And in all honesty, Harry was probably better for her, but her heart was tugging her in a different direction, even if that direction meant trouble. But she'd always been drawn towards trouble, she just couldn't stay away. Even when it was Draco Malfoy.
"I wish I could return your feelings," Hermione said.
Shaking his head slightly, Harry said sadly, "He's going to break your heart."
With a heavy sigh, Hermione nodded. "Probably. But it's a chance I'm willing to take."
Seeming let-down and a bit moody, Harry said, "I'll always be here. I won't do the whole 'don't come running back to me' thing, because I'll be waiting." He gave her one last forced smile and left the library.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione sorted herself quickly before leaving the library as well, wishing she had someone to talk to who would understand. But there was no one, not really. Harry was normally her confidante and he was obviously too involved. She talked to Malfoy, but she had a feeling he wouldn't be thrilled with Harry's confession. Ron was…well, Ron. He would get all uppity about everything and have a fit. Ginny was still sore from the fact that when Harry came back from the dead he didn't have much interest in her anymore and she was definitely the jealous sort.
And everyone else would just panic at the fact that she had feelings for Draco Malfoy. They'd all say the same thing. Well, the right choice is obvious, Hermione. Harry, of course! You could love him, you could, it would just take time.
They'd all try to convince her there was only one solution. But there was never just one way. Just as she'd told Yvette, there was always a choice.
…~oOo~…
"Are those for me?"
Draco looked up from his desk at the Ministry to find Astoria standing in the doorway, smiling. Her blonde hair was curled and hung around her shoulders. She wore a fancy little number, a slimming blue wrap dress with a matching sapphire necklace and satin heels. She looked ready for an evening out and Draco immediately realized he must have forgotten something.
He'd been so focused on his task, folding all the paper doves, that his assistant was constantly reminding him of his professional appointments and he'd completely put aside all personal ones.
"They're lovely," Astoria said, strutting forward to stand right over his desk, looking at all the paper doves spilling off the side of his desk and scattering the floor. "So many?"
"Yes," Draco said without hesitation. "It was supposed to be…romantic."
"Draco, I never had you pinned for a romantic," Astoria said with a coy smile.
He held the dove he'd just finished between his fingers. Its edges were perfect, it's wings elegant. It was the closest thing to perfection he'd seen in a while… Apart from the woman they had been originally intended for. "We all have sides of us we don't let others see," Draco answered vaguely. "And we're meant to share those sides only with the one who deserves to see you for what you truly are."
"You are…astonishing," Astoria said with admiration. She leaned across the desk and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. She rubbed her thumb across his mouth to get rid of the lipstick stain she'd left. "I hope you continue to let me see you for who you are."
Draco wished he was less of a coward and told Hermione everything. Everything about what was happening in the Ministry, how the tone was changing since Voldemort's return and about how more than ever he needed to follow Snow's and his father's orders. Percy Weasley was most privy to the stress the Ministry workers were under and made it clear to McGonagall, but no one could understand the pressure of the Malfoy family.
"Are you ready to go to dinner?" Astoria asked.
"Yes, just give me a moment," Draco said.
"I'll meet you at the elevators," Astoria told him and then left.
Opening the drop drawer to his desk he found the silly little velvet case his father had given him. A Malfoy heirloom, obviously. Lucius's giving such a priceless piece to Draco sent a very clear message. Popping open the lid and looking at the ring, Draco leaned forward on his desk and sighed. How could such a thing like diamonds and emeralds spark such a deep loathing in Draco for not only his father, not only the Malfoy name, but also himself.
Snapping the box shut, Draco slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
…~oOo~…
"In this revolution of ours, we as a wizarding community have redefined magic. For the better, I dare say. We have brought back the values our world had been losing to the Muggles. There is a line between us and them and we have drawn it clearer than ever. With the gracious help of the Confederacy and Hilde Beauregard, the French Minister, we have reformed our justice system and prevented a full-blown civil war in the Ukraine. I am standing here before you, as your newly appointed Minister of Magic, with a promise to every witch and wizard in Britain. I will continue to work to improve not only our beloved Britain, but the world as well, bettering the quality of life for all magic folk. Draco Malfoy will be a name that each and every one of you, and history, would be keen to remember."
…
Waking with a gasp and a racing heart, Chelsea curled her hands around her duvet to remind herself where she was. She was in bed at school. It was drafty and cool. Her skin was clammy. The ribbon that held back her hair as she slept was slightly too tight and was giving her a headache.
She pressed her cool palms to her face and took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm her heart. The dreams were back and they were back with a vengeance.
The scene had been in black and white in her dream. In a large room with floating candles, at the front of it all, on a dais and behind a podium was none other than Draco Malfoy. His hair was slightly longer, all smoothed back, and wore a suit with a silver tie that brought out his cold, steel grey eyes. The only real difference in his face was a large scar through his eye that split his left eyebrow and made his eyelid droop ever-so-slightly. Standing by his side wearing a red dress and very fancy red hat had been a petite blonde woman who gave him a kiss once he finished his speech and had rubbed at the lipstick stain on his mouth with her thumb in front of the entire press.
Such a dream. It was too clear, too detailed for it to be only a dream. Something bad was coming and Draco Malfoy was at the center of it.
And she had no idea what she was supposed to do about it.
…~oOo~…
~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~