Chapter 22: Old Scar
May 7, 2000
Later on
"It's almost gone…"
Minerva's barely audible voice disturbed the silence… It was ten minutes, or it was thirty, or maybe an hour when one of them finally spoke while wrapped in each other's arms… Hermione could not tell how long they'd stayed silent after Minerva gently withdrew from her and made incantations that reversed the transfiguration… Immediately after, the older witch buried herself under her chin, exactly in the same manner she did the previous times they were together in bed.
In contrast to the stillness of the room, Hermione's emotions were going haywire. She was very much cognizant that both of them seemingly elected to not say anything about her mad confession of love, and of the woman's fearful reaction to it… She was trying her damndest to not drown in heartache from the newest rejection from the woman she loved so much… And trying her damndest to treasure the fact that the woman had not bolted from her arms… That Minerva was still clutching herself to her body…
Hermione fought to push all unwanted feelings into a compartment and instead concentrated on an old thought— to take whatever the woman was giving her… Because to receive nothing would be most unbearable… When she managed to somehow close the lid on her throbbing heart, she addressed what Minerva had said that broke the silence.
"According to the text, it should be completely gone in a month."
Then she felt Minerva place a tender kiss on her almost healed scar… The one that Bellatrix bestowed during her capture… The one that Minerva just commented about being almost gone… And the one she was expecting to be completely gone in a month…
Her mud blood scar…
A few months after the war when she first consulted St. Mungos Head Hypatia Allis on how to get it healed, she was wholly disheartened to be told that even the greatest healer could not heal it… that medical magic wouldn't do… She was told that the scar was laced with the dark magic of a personal curse… That the only way to have it gone was to perform a highly complex ritual to counter the curse… At that moment, Hermione wanted to bring Bellatrix to life— just to kill the woman herself.
Then one night, Hermione found one Draco Malfoy at her door…
"Headmistress McGonagall said that I ask you to read this before you send me away…"
Draco quietly stated as he extended a sealed note to her before she could say anything… And whether Draco Malfoy knew it or not, 'MCGONAGALL' was a passcode that would get Hermione to relent in a snap. She reached for the note and felt the sealing charm placed on it for the intended confidentiality.
...
Darling,
Give him 5 minutes to tell you why he came…
...
Despite the uncertainty that started in her guts at Draco Malfoy's appearance at her flat, Hermione had to hold her smile at Minerva's tactic use of such endearment; the woman simply knew how to get her to do anything…
Without saying a word, she moved to let the Slytherin wizard into her flat. When she shut her door, she firmly said, "You have 3 minutes to say why you are here."
Draco merely nodded in acceptance, but instead of hurrying to spill out his reason for coming as Hermione expecting him to do, he purposely pulled two heavily wrapped items from his robes in his own pace, and then had his grey eyes meet hers in silence for a few seconds before deciding to finally speak about what brought him at Hermione's flat…
"This is a potion I brewed 16 weeks ago for 17 hours. In another week, it'll be— ready for its intended purpose…" Draco carefully put the the vials on the center table before he gave Hermione a shock "And this is my mother's knife. A sister to Bellatrix's silver knife..."
A cold shudder assaulted Hermione and she needed to exert all effort not to outwardly show it. Her brain was quick to alert her that the mere arrival of Malfoy at her door signified something of grave matter, more so with him bearing Minerva's letter… And yet she found herself thoroughly off-guard when she heard the name 'Bellatrix', followed by words of 'silver' and 'knife'.
"And Ms. Granger, I will not insult your intelligence by explaining why I brought them and myself here…"
Hermione heard the solid pronouncement. She was definitely not the brightest witch of her age to not quickly deduce the purpose of this visit after the presentation of the items… At the same time, she did not miss how the wizard addressed her name with a title, including its courteous tone that was far from the spitting contempt she was used to hearing from him back when they were students… In her internal struggle to find leverage, she re-directed her focus away from the two items placed by the wizard on her coffee table, to the note she had read earlier, the one penned by no other but Minerva… She found herself scanning the short message again, as if she could talk to the woman of what she ought to do with what had been brought to her— the impossible 'heal' to her 'mud blood' scar…
After initially learning from Healer Hypatia the impossible requisites to get rid of Bellatrix damage on her, it had taken several months for Hermione before she finally braved it and attempted to figure out if she could produce what she would need. She read-up on curse breaking rituals and studied the intricacies in order to find alternatives to them. After unaccounted number of months of studying on what Hypatia actually meant of its complexities— it was then that she had learned of how it was as good as impossible to counter the curse embedded in her scar… That it meant she'll have Bellatrix mark of 'mud blood' on her arm— forever…
First, she learned that she needed a potion. One that would take 17 laborious hours to brew and 17 weeks to be set aside before it could be of use. While she could take the time and attention to make it, she was doubtful that she could obtain half of the ingredients. Several specimens needed were exceedingly rare, and therefore extremely expensive, of which she would not spree her money on— not to mention that if she decided to risk almost exhausting her Gringotts account, she had no idea where to procure these ingredients.
Secondly, she learned she needed the abominable knife itself— Bellatrix's silver knife, which Harry destroyed after he buried Dobby at Shell Cottage… It was terribly a dead end at onset, until Hermione learned that another knife would do, as long as it was made from the same collection or batch of Bellatrix's knife. But then, the absurd notion of tracking the makings of the said weapon especially the ones where the likes of Cygnus Black had favored only told Hermione that she'd never get rid of her scar…
The third and final requisite, and the most impossible to acquire, was the participation of the offender— Bellatrix Black Lestrange, who was dead… Or the abominable notion of asking any of her living blood relatives within third degree to do an equally monstrous act… For the ritual included carving the same violation on their skin? And such repugnance must be done for three times within a seven days interval for the full counter curse to take effect. It did not matter that it would not be permanent on them and would be gone within an hour; Hermione would never ask anyone to endure the same trauma that she experienced… And besides, if Hermione could not stomach to subject anyone to it, more so that the only people from the Black clan that she was currently in speaking terms with were Andromeda and baby Teddy— hell, there was no way that Hermione would ever involve them…
Thus the impossibility of obtaining the three requisites simply sealed her fate that she'd have to withstand the scar's permanence on her… She convinced herself that she could deal with it for the rest of her life and it would not define her as a person… She even tried to consider the scar as her war souvenir. And humorously told herself that at least she got to hone her concealment charm for the permanent practice it'd provide… Nonetheless, there were times that she'd wish with all of her heart that she could get rid of it…
Then Draco Malfoy arrived at her flat, with the three requisites that would truly free her from her mudblood scar…
"You have to tell me if you would want me to come back in 1 week when the potion has completed its required setting period and we can start the first of the three rituals." Draco carried on with his offer without breaking eye contact with Hermione's brown eyes despite his jaw slightly clenching at the tension of what he was discussing. "I can assure you that I have studied the full text for several months now— so I know what it entails…"
"Malfr—Draco…" Hermione recentered herself before she continued, "Tell me why you are doing this?"
At Hermione's frank question, Draco's set of grey eyes darted to the ground, pause in contemplation before they came back up and accompanied his grievous words of submission. "There is no reason why I should not."
But for Hermione, the spoken explanation was not good enough. And not knowing why, she was stunned with her subsequent question, but she decided that she wanted to know the answer…
"Are you doing this because the Headmistress ordered you?"
"She said you would say that..." Amusement flickered in grey eyes before full grievousness came back with the rest of his words. "And she said that she leaves it to me on how to answer you…"
"So what is your answer…? WHY are you doing this?" Hermione challenged.
It was not lost on her that although Minerva McGonagall was not in the room, the woman's hands were all over the situation… And yet, the woman exceptionally ensured that it wasn't entirely so… That the ultimatum of what to happen was in fact of Malfoy's undertaking… And of Hermione's acceptance…
"My answer is that—" Draco paused and took a deep breath, "The night that you were tortured at my house… when I did nothing… when I did not do the right thing when I knew what I should have done— was the night I was most ashamed of myself…"
Hermione clenched her jaw at the admission. "It was war—" she started but stopped at Draco's slightly raised hand. She saw him exert effort to control his trembling hand, and observed a trickle of sweat on the side of his face…
Draco took another deep breath, locked eyes with hers once more, and then he seemed to force himself with the rest of what he wanted to convey…
"And… And if doing this would elevate even a small amount of that shame, then… carving myself for three times is a small price… I am going to beg you to let me pay…"
And there it was— an accord for a reckoning of sort, for the shame and pain from the war.
A week later, when Draco knocked at her flat, she silently let him enter and led him to her living room for the first of the three rituals…
Without dilly-dallying, they started with the incantations, which obviously had been studied beforehand by the two of them. They followed it with taking a spoonful of the poor tasting but faultlessly brewed potion. Afterwards, Hermione watched in horror as without warning, the sister knife to Bellatrix's knife began spinning on the table before eventually carving on its own into Draco's arm, of the same monstrous text…
Hermione clearly saw the wizard fight his tears, and fail miserably… Grey eyes reeling in pain made her unhinged… completely unhinged, and it was only when Malfoy was gone that she realized she did not even let the man in agony stay for a short respite… This led her to feel ashamed of herself and strangely made her believe Draco's words of his regret for not doing the right thing…
When the knife dropped to the floor after the second ritual, as Draco poorly gathered himself to depart, Hermione managed to tell Draco that he could stay put until he recovered… When deep gratitude from grey eyes responded to her offer, more than the quiet 'thank you' he expressed, it dawned on Hermione that the wizard was really no longer the one she knew at Hogwarts…. That this young man was as damaged as her by the war— uniformly had learned the gravity of it, and paid for his faults and shortcomings…
Then the third ritual arrived and completed. And similarly to that second time when Hermione let Draco stay for a rest, they remained wordless, both trying not to stare at the angry 'mud blood' carving on Malfoy's arm. But with less than half an hour left before the temporary carving vanishes, Hermione could not stop herself when she started to ask questions that had plagued her since Malfoy's first visit…
"How do you have your mother's knife with you…?
At Draco's expression, Hermione understood that he was not surprised to get such a question from her… that he was even expecting the inquiry… Hermione schooled her features into an almost commandeering one for him to give a straight answer…
"And where did you get the rare potion ingredients?" She even issued another question, which was equally demanding.
Since they were eleven, Draco had been slapping everyone at Hogwarts with tales of his family's wealth, and he could then surely afford the expensive ingredients. Except, that was no longer the case. While he and his mother had been spared from Azkaban, (but not Lucius), the Wizengamot had sequestered most of their entire wealth; a sort of Ministry leash on them. Until such predetermined period expires, they do not have access to their old belongings and money, and they are subjected to certain communal limitations, as they move forward with their lives and contribute in re-building the society…
For a moment, these thoughts flashed in Hermione's mind and she wondered how the mother and son were fending for themselves. But she remembered as well that they were not Slytherins just for their blood status, but also for their resourceful characteristics. And although Draco Malfoy was no longer wearing immaculate and expensive clothes, she could see that it did not deter him from still appearing refined, but notably without the arrogance he used to grab himself back when they were still students.
"What are the answers?" Hermione voiced her demand once again with gravity.
"You already know the answers..." Draco rebutted with conviction, not really out of adversarial belief, but assuredness of his point.
Hermione knew that Draco spoke the truth. Indeed, she could deduce the answers, but frankly she wanted to hear them explicitly. Why...? She didn't understand herself… Or maybe she did. Or maybe she feared the implications for either way it could mean…
"Yes, I'll give you the confirmation…" Draco conceded. "They were in fact from the Headmistress…"
Hermione carefully guided her countenance into a blank one… but she could not help her mind from bursting with more questions… nor her heart from tightening at the substantiation of what Minerva had done— for her…
Once again, she had discovered that the woman operated to make things happen for her… This time to heal her scar… The scar that had not stopped screaming at her to find a way to get it healed… To find how to be free from Bellatrix's mark...
"How the Headmistress knew about my mother's knife— I didn't even know my mother had one." Draco started his account, "Unlike Bellatrix, my mother said she was never fond of knives, and she didn't even remember she had one. Let alone where she kept it… So, if there is a need for you to know how, you would have to ask the Headmistress directly."
Hermione heard his unspoken words that Draco did not, and would not ask for an explanation from one Minerva McGonagall about the woman's knowledge of his mother's knife… More so of how the woman obtained the said knife…
"And as you have guessed," Draco continued divulging to her of what he knew, "…the ingredients are from the Headmistress. I have no doubt that no matter how rare half of them are— she had no problem securing all of them, including the ancient volume for the instructions. I suppose, she simply made a trip to her personal storage and private library at the McGonagall Manor."
Hermione hid her surprise upon hearing the factual tone that Malfoy used when he mentioned McGonagall Manor… Whether deliberate or not, she knew that Hogwarts was generally perceived as the woman's only home. She never found out about the Manor, despite the tons of reading she did about the woman. And if not for that fateful night, she'd probably still be ignorant of it... And yet, her brain quickly grasped that Draco was from an old wizarding family, and surely they at least knew of McGonagall's family, even if Minerva was the last of her name during the last three decades.
She could also see how he was watching and measuring her reaction… at the validation he imparted to her— of Minerva McGonagall's role in their current stage… But Hermione would not let the wizard collect anything from her. She took a page from Minerva's book and brought up her walls…
Draco gave her a small nod, and Hermione had to give it to the Slytherin for his quick comprehension, and the unmistakable respect he was giving her… But then the wizard issued a question of his own…
"May I inquire what the Headmistress wrote?"
Hermione knew that he was referring to that note from Minerva. The one that served him an entry pass during his first call… She assumed that he expected to get any clue with his own assessment of the braiding situation where he found himself with her and the headmistress. She made calculations of whatever implications it may bring, and when she didn't find anything damning, she conceded on this one…
"To give you five minutes before I hex you out." Hermione responded and she found herself giving him a small genuine smile.
"You gave me three minutes." Draco responded, also with a small genuine smile of his own. And then his face turned solemn and he uttered, "If we were switched, I would not have given you any, not even one minute… So, thank you Ms. Granger."
"Please… Just— Hermione…" She offered. And she was extremely aware of the deeper subscription she just handed… "And thank you too, Draco." She gestured to the fading scar on his arm as the final 'one-hour' came to its expiration… And at that moment, she felt the liberation— and knew that she just had to endure another 17 weeks before the one on her arm became fully healed…
. . . . .
Hermione felt Minerva kiss her arm again. This pulled her back from her recollection of the entire chronicle, of how her scar came to be now healing… The lid on her emotions cracked an opening… She felt her heart being gripped with the awareness that the woman presently clutching to her body was the one who made moves to deliver three impossible requirements… at her door… for her…
And yet the damn woman would not move to be with her… really be with her… And the damn woman would not accept her love…
"Are you truly relieved?" Minerva murmured under her chin.
Hermione took a moment, took hold of her emotions before she answered, "Not just relieved… But very happy… Thank you, Minerva."
"Draco is the—"
"I know…" Hermione interrupted Minerva, for she would not accept the woman's entire dismissal of her own hand on erasing her mud blood scar… "But let's not negate what you've done… Really, thank you, Minerva." Hermione asserted her words of gratitude. And she could not help herself from kissing Minerva's crown and hugged the woman tighter… And they fell into another stretch of silence.
After the long interval, Minerva murmured again, "It took me quite some time to locate the knife…"
Hermione was stunned at Minerva's unprompted revelation… And from such a nugget of information, she confirmed her belief; Minerva went out of her way to find it for her… For her…
This tempted her to let an minuscule fire of hope start in her heart— that Minerva possibly loved her back… But two years of 'being and not being with Minerva' had taught her to give full regard to safeguarding her heart, and her impeccable mind supplemented this notion. It prompted images of emerald eyes brimful of fright after her daft declaration of love…
As much as she wanted to confront this emotional matter with Minerva, doubts were encircling her heart, and fear was striking through her entire being… She elected to set those aside, and re-focused on what the woman just said— about the knife…
"How did you know there was such a knife?" Hermione heard herself ask the very question she had been curious about from the moment Draco told her that Minerva had known about it.
Minerva remained quiet again, Hermione thought that she would not get an answer. That the woman had closed the matter... especially after the woman issued a very deep sigh.
"Bellatrix told me."
Hermione was absolutely floored with the answer…
"A death-eater told you that her fucking knife that she used in carving 'mud blood' into my arm has a sister?"
"Back up, Hermione… You know very well that what you've just said made entirely no sense…"
Minerva spoke into Hermione's chest with an indignant tone, but the woman softened the impact by tightening her hold on her… And then she also felt a soft kiss placed on her chest by thin lips.
Truth be told, Hermione wanted to retort with equal indignation, but she let her brain function and it told her that Minerva was right… that truly, what she had indicted was quite idiotic…
"I'm sorry…" Hermione apologised and kissed Minerva's crown in contrition. "How did you know to not look for Bellatrix' knife in the first place?" she re-phrased and removed the roughness of her inquiry.
Hermione felt Minerva nod in acceptance of her apology. And then she waited patiently for the narrative, which in due course started pouring out from the older woman.
"The night before we had the funeral for Severus, Harry came to see me for a…honest dialogue… He told me several things… About Severus memory, your general condition during your horcrux hunt, your capture, your escape, and Dobby's death… including him destroying Bellatrix's knife in his anger afterwards… He told me how you thought he didn't know about your scar because you were protecting him from blaming himself for it… And how he desperately wanted to atone for it but he knew that he would only make it worse for you if he said something…"
Hermione absorbed the information and she felt the constrictions of her heart. What Minerva said was true; she wanted to protect Harry from another undeserved guilt. But she rationalized that it mattered little, for she and Harry had already given it closure when her scar started healing after the ritual with Draco several months ago… She looped back to the real discussion at hand, as several questions began burning inside her…
"When did Bellatrix tell you about Narcissa's knife?"
Hermione received another sigh from Minerva… And a longer pause before she was thrown into a more twisting feeling when Minerva ultimately said, "A 15-year-old Bellatrix Black told me…"
A 15-year-old Bellatrix Black…
Hermione heard another voice in her head that had uttered a similar phrase, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep herself from commenting… But she could already feel a roping feeling in her guts of the implications of such a phrase from two people... She ordered herself to set it aside for the meantime, as she wanted to give her full attention to what the woman was currently divulging and ensure nothing was missed… including words that would be unspoken...
"Just a week or so into a new school term," Minerva commenced unpacking one chapter from her past, "I found fifth-year student Bellatrix Black in one of the isolated bathrooms, way past curfew. She was trying to stop the bleeding of her hand—"
"—cut by her very own knife…" Hermione interjected before she realised what she had said.
"Yes." Minerva slowly nodded at the recalled memory. "I can't remember why I didn't send her to Poppy or to Horace. Maybe I didn't want to disrupt either one so late in the night. Or maybe I deemed that I could handle it… And I did. I healed her cut, confiscated her knife, sent her to bed, and gave her a week of detention with me. I had every intention to make her go through several readings about the consequences of dangerous items from heedlessness."
Despite the current topic, Hermione had to smile at seeing in her mind the familiar Professor McGonagall who they all associated with upstanding conduct. But her mind also conjured another picture, of the same professor but more than three decades younger. Was the woman already aware of her unusual magical aging nature— that she was aging at half of half the normal phase that time? At any rate, the woman was surely more beautiful, not to mention with soul less damaged without experiencing yet her second and third war... Such a wonder of who Minerva McGonagall around that time...
"On the first night of her detention, she showed up quite early at my office and that surprised me. Students are never eager to show up at detention… Plus, she…"
Minerva paused, and shifted from her position. Somehow, whenever they were in bed, Hermione had learned how to read the intent behind Minerva's graceful motions. The woman sought a tighter hold… because she needed more comfort… because she would impart something of grave significance or implication… Either way, Hermione would give Minerva whatever she needed… She shifted to accommodate the woman in her arms.
"She— Bellatrix, when she showed up at my office, she brought tons of chocolates and one beautiful quill… She said they were gifts in appreciation for saving her from bleeding to death. I was actually half amused at her dramatics. And half insulted for the obvious bribe. But then, I knew the Blacks were afflicted with the wrong notion of gift giving and their proclivity to flaunt their wealth. So after I declined her gifts, I gave her a lecture about the meaning of true gratitude and generosity. I tried to give her a proper discourse about the vulnerability it could invoke for overly giving people when tangled with exploitative people."
Again, Minerva paused and sighed… And even buried herself further into her embrace… And Hermione let her… She waited for the older witch to organize her thoughts as she was bringing up particulars, ostensibly of weighty interaction with Hogwarts' student–Bellatrix Black from so long ago…
"I told her that the only thanks I wanted from her was a promise that she would refrain from romping with hazardous items… And of course, I was not inclined to give back her knife, I told her that she could have it only before going to the train platform to go home at the next school break. I emphasized how she couldn't bring it again. She didn't object to it and gave me the promise I asked... Then unexpectedly, she added another promise— that she'd work for an 'O' mark in Transfiguration... It was at the end of that detention when she told me that she was glad that both her sisters did not bring their knives so they wouldn't cut themselves… The information stuck with me for I remembered feeling appalled to have learned that Cygnus Black's concept of appropriate gifts to his three very young daughters was apparently weapons of which were laced with dark magic. I could not believe the deranged parenting notion."
Minerva's story led Hermione's mind in uproar, with a puzzle she just figured out…of pieces locking into their places that gave her quite an understanding of something grave... And she could not stop herself from diving back into one of her own memory… Of that last time she had seen Draco Malfoy, for the third and last ritual.
. . . . . . .
Draco was about to step out of her flat after he said his farewell, but he faltered in his departure and suddenly turned back to Hermione. He seemed to have deliberated internally as he took a pause for a moment, but at Hermione's questioning brow, he decided to go through what he wanted to speak of.
"Hermione… I'd like to tell you a story, if you will permit me… Something my mother recently shared with me…"
Malfoy's grey eyes intensely peering at hers with a dare. And she simply nodded. Truthfully, it poked her curiosity.
"Once upon a time, still untainted by darkness…"
But with those words from Draco, quite suddenly Hermione realised she was not prepared for what she was about to be told… But there was no turning back, Draco was rolling out his tale.
"A 15-year-old Bellatrix Black, fell in love…"
Hermione found herself torn between wanting to hear the rest of Draco's story and shoving the wizard out of her flat… But she braved it, she continued to hold challenging grey eyes, and let him proceed…
"But the person Bellatrix fell in love with had sat her down and gently rejected her. Told her that someday, someone would love Bellatrix more than she could conceive… Stubborn Black as she was, she rejected the rejection and started working on proving her love. She devoted many hours to enhance her skills to impress this person. And her turnabout was palpable that she was gaining dominance over her peers, although it was unknown that the fuel behind her blazing development was the quest to match the brilliance of this person she was in love with. Bellatrix had extensive plans to prove herself. And her ultimate goal was to win the love of this person… Well, you've met Sirius Black, that should give you the idea of how the Blacks are with their over-the-top demonstrations… And mother said, Bellatrix was so in love that she was pulling the moon and the stars for the person she fell for… "
Despite the tremors running inside Hermione at hearing Draco's account, she had to agree with his accurate depiction of Sirius Black and the Black's family general extravagance… And bizarrely, it was not hard for her to think of Bellatrix as every bit as passionate...
"But one holiday break, my grandparents tied her to the Lestranges for a marriage… Bellatrix pleaded that she loved another and planned to be with this person after she graduated Hogwarts… Of course she was a Black and that would not do, or she'd be disowned… Still hopeful, she pleaded again to the person she was in love with to give her a chance, to accept her love. But this person was adamant in turning her down, even telling her that she might find love and happiness with Lestrange…"
Draco paused and took a deep breath and Hermione was surprised to see raw sadness in his grey eyes…
"My mother said that her eldest sister changed after that… That the dead finality of the rejection from the person she loved with all her heart had inflicted her with pain that never healed— that it marked Bellatrix with a scar of never believing in love again…"
A scar of never believing in love again…
Hermione felt the invisible punch for clouding reasons as she held her gaze against Draco's penetrating and sad grey eyes, of which the burning seemed to want to seep into her for something... for an information… for unknown truth…
"And as difficult as it is to imagine now— Far from the death-eater that she would become, Bellatrix once truly believed in love… That she was in love with someone..."
Bellatrix in love...
"And that someone that 15-year-old Bellatrix Black was thoroughly in love with— was none other than her Transfiguration Professor… The one we refer today as the venerated Headmistress Minerva McGonagall…"
.
.
.
End of Chapter 22
Year 2000 – Old Scar
Handful of pieces from Minerva's past... Would this matter to Hermione? Should it?
