Chapter 9
Draco rubbed his face with his hand and glanced at the kitchenette. "Look in the duffle bag."
Now he was opening the bag?
Hermione grabbed his wand – he didn't protest – Scourgified herself, and summoned his bag from the kitchen counter. She caught it as it flew into her lap. His duffle bag had a familiar heaviness, making her immediately suspicious. She unzipped the bag and looked inside.
What the –
No!
She opened the bag wider.
She couldn't believe it.
"You goddamn, sodding, motherfucking, bloody piece of sh-"
"We've already established that cursing is an integral part of your communication skills."
She pulled out her beaded bag and held it up to him. Her nostrils flared with a sharp, angry exhale.
"It was here the whole time?" Her voice rose with each word. She whacked the side of his arm.
He flinched and rubbed his arm. "To be fair, Granger, I did ask a few times if you wanted to look in my bag."
"Wanker!" she yelled as she whacked him again.
"I even left you alone with it while I was in the loo!" he protested. "How was I supposed to know you'd be that bloody stubborn?"
"Have you met me?" she muttered angrily.
She opened it up, eager to see if he had broken the charms on her notebook. He had, of course, and had probably read everything about their theories regarding Voldemort, what they knew about him psychologically, and the Horcruxes. She started paging through it.
Un–fucking–believable.
What in the hell was going through his head? Hermione didn't know if she was more upset with herself for having had the opportunity to not go through any of what they'd done tonight, or with him for placing that opportunity in reach, but not telling her.
Why?!
Why had he made her go through with any of it at all if he was willing to let her get out of their agreement? She angrily flipped through a few more pages of her notebook and saw an unfamiliar scrawl on the page where she had listed potential names for R.A.B. Pausing, she peered down at it.
"Regulus Arcturus Black," she read aloud. Her eyes snapped back to his. "Did you write that, Malfoy?" she whispered, pushing her anger aside for now.
"He was one of Mother's cousins. I didn't know he had betrayed the Dark Lord. It's nice to know I've got some company there." He ran his hand through his hair; it flopped right back into his eyes. "I guess that's why he's dead."
She looked up sharply at him. Did he just imply that he'd betrayed Voldemort?
Hermione flipped through the notebook some more and saw an article from the Daily Prophet inserted with her notes about Slytherin's locket. He must have put it there. It was about Dolores Umbridge and her latest legislation regarding the Muggle-born registry. In the photo, she was giving a simpering smile to a few other Ministry officials, reaching out to shake their hands and then turning back to the camera.
"Why would you put a-" She gasped at the picture and looked up at him. This was active betrayal. Draco was helping them destroy Voldemort. All the anger she felt towards him was replaced by amazement and disbelief.
"I've seen enough of Umbridge to last a lifetime," he explained. "She always wears that locket. It doesn't exactly match her extensive wardrobe of pastel pink robes."
She went back to the beginning of her notebook and started reading more methodically, page by page, anxious to see what else Draco knew. She arrived at the transcribed pictures of the Hufflepuff cup and read in his now familiar handwriting: 'Lestrange vault.'
"It's at Gringotts?" she asked in disbelief. "In your aunt's vault?"
He nodded. "Good luck getting to that one."
Once she reached the end of her notes, Hermione looked to where Draco sat across from her. He had been studying her as she read.
"You're really going to do it," his voice was soft, with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Aren't you?"
"Do what?" she asked.
"Win."
"We're trying," she snorted. "Umbridge… Maybe if we… But Gringotts. That's going to… Yeah. No clue how we're going to get in there."
Draco motioned to his bag, a sly gleam in his eyes. "It's not empty yet."
Excitedly, she tossed her notebook to the side and dug around the bottom of the bag until her fingers latched onto metal. She pulled out Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem .
"Where did you find this?" she whispered, her voice quiet in disbelief.
"The Room of Hidden Things. I spent most of last year holed up there, working on the Vanishing Cabinet. I recognized it from the picture you had. I don't know anything about the Ravenclaw bracelet though."
"No, it's this one. Not the bracelet," she said. She laid the tiara down on the ground, stood up, and walked back to her room, blanket dragging behind her on the floor. "I'm nearly certain," she called over her shoulder.
And they were about to find out.
She quickly got dressed in her pajamas, pulling on a loose T-shirt and shorts, and strode purposefully back across the room to sit down next to him.
He leaned towards her curiously. "What are you doing?"
Hermione's arm disappeared up to her armpit as she reached around in her tiny bag. "Hold on, I can't quite-" Finally, her fingers latched onto the small bag of basilisk fangs. She pulled it out, tossing her beaded bag to the side.
"We're going to destroy a piece of Voldemort's soul."
His jaw dropped. "What? We?"
She opened the tie of the bag, withdrew a fang, and in a burst of inspiration, smacked it into the palm of his hand.
"You."
Chapter end notes:
Yes, I know it's a short chapter. But the next one will be on its heels! Was anyone surprised by the contents of the bag? Or did you call it earlier? What did you think was inside?