Innocent - Chapter 2
Though Hermione seemed to be, by all critical outward appearances, just like the pretty girl they had grown accustom to, Hermione looked different. Her hair was by far longer than anyone was use to and was onyx black, something none of them were too fond of. Even when they teased her and mocked her for having the bushiest of brown hair, it was her hair and it made her who she was. Hermione without it was just...weird.
Black hair?
On Hermione?
"So..." started Ginny, unsure exactly what to talk about. The two were in Ginny's room, Hermione's favorite room of the entire house...once upon a time.
"So..." echoed Hermione, looking out the icy window, secretly envisioning Draco's face out over the horizon.
"How did your parents react? I was surprised they even let you come back here. So soon, that is."
Ginny watched the raven haired girl look away from the window and over toward her. Her gaze was unsettling.
"Well I spent a few days just being with them. I explained how everything went down and nothing completely horrid happened. They didn't want to send me back, but I was persuasive to say the least."
Oh yes, she had been persuasive. Hermione had used a wandless spell against them, forcing them to send her back. After her kidnaping, the Dark Lord had placed some very special, one could say, terms on her charms and witching abilities so everything went undetected to the Ministry. Once she went back to Hogwarts, the wards would eventually weaken and fade thus leaving her to be just like everyone else. Until then, she was sort of free to use her abilities how she saw fit.
Persuading her parents was just one of the things she had done.
"So they just let you come here instead?," asked Ginny uneasily. "That seems really weird."
"Not really. I mean my parents aren't like yours. They don't really know too much about the Dark Lord and what he can do. They didn't really question me and just were happy to have me back. I was happy to be back, but personally I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts. I've missed everyone, you know."
Ginny nodded with a timid smile on her face. This was not the friend she knew. Where is the Hermione who jokes with me and laughs with me and—you are such a bitch, Ginny! The girl was taken from everyone and here you are trying to wonder why she isn't joking around. Oh Merlin, how could I be so inconsiderate?! Of course she is going to be a little off.
"Well you've missed out on a lot. Have you spoken with Professor Dumbledore on how you're going to approach everything? School wise, I mean."
"No," replied Hermione nonchalantly, twisting her dark hair with her finger, "Not yet. I think he's going to be discussing that with me tonight. I hope I'm not too far behind. It would suck to have to be in sixth year when everyone is a seventh year."
"I'm a sixth year."
"And a year younger, Ginny. You know what I mean."
"I know," said Ginny with a broader smile, the mood in the room lightening a bit. This–the cute banter between friends was what she missed. For a year she had been without Hermione. It was not as though they were the best of friends, Harry and Ron often trumped her in Hermione's eyes, but they had been friends. After spending all the time without her, it made her realize how important Hermione really was to her.
"So then, I guess you'll be heading back with us?" asked Ginny hopefully.
"I s'pose. It should be good once I get back. How bad are the rumors?"
"Not too bad. Well...everyone knows who took you, but nobody knows much more. It was all hype in the media for a long while, but it seemingly died after about eight or nine months. Then when you were found, Harry and I were pulled directly out of school. It...we–didn't really have time to talk to anyone. Plus, it was only a few days before everyone was to leave for winter holiday so...I'm not too sure who knows just yet about you."
Ginny looked down and away, the thoughts of when they found out about Hermione coming back to her...
"Seamus can you pass the pumpkin juice?" asked Ginny, stifling a yawn into her own cloaked shoulder. Seamus lifted up the jug and moved it across the table, handing the red-haired beauty the juice without so much as a glance. Seamus was not too much of a morning person.
"Did you finish your parchment for charms, Harry?" asked Dean, a hearty spoonful of morning oatmeal in his mouth.
"Yeah," replied Harry dully, "Though I'm pretty sure I got the final question wrong. It's bloody hard this year."
"You're telling me," quipped Neville, shoveling his own spoonful of oatmeal into his watering mouth.
Harry just nodded. The whole ordeal had been harder on him than anyone else taking into consideration who had been taken. His two best friends, two-thirds of his soul - gone. Just...gone.
From the December before to the current winter, he'd been nothing save for a walking corpse. Nothing, nobody, seemed to be able to fill the void left in him with the disappearance of his two best mates. Ginny had tried to talk with him and get him to open up, but he would have none of it. It hurt Ginny to know the will to fight had left him. The will to do anything had left him.
He just didn't care.
"Mr. Potter! Miss Weasley!"
Harry and Ginny both jerked up in alarm in hearing Professor McGonagall call their names with such a frantic urgency. Something was wrong. She knew something was wrong, but not what exactly.
Dear God, please don't tell me more bad news. Please don't tell me I've lost somebody else. I can't take that...I can't...
"Harry–"
Oh Merlin...she used his first name. This is bad. Very bad.
"Harry, Ginny, you both must come with me. Now."
Ginny exchanged a quick glance with Harry before they jumped up and followed the anxious woman out of the Great Hall, every eye in the room latched onto them. Once they were beyond the doors, a solid distance separating their voices and the nosy, prying ears of the Great Hall, Ginny and Harry began questioning immediately.
"Professor, what's going on?"
"Something must be wrong. Is somebody hurt?"
"Is it mum?"
"Is it Mr. Weasley?"
"What is going on?!"
"SILENCE!"
The haggard professor turned around, bursts of air puffing between her lips, her eyes blazing with the most uneasy expression. Finally words left her mouth which would forever stay with Ginny and Harry...later haunting them both.
"Hermione was found. She is alive."
Ginny, whose hand was clasped in Harry's, his attempt to pull her out quicker in haste of what was occurring, began crushing her slim fingers. Ginny felt the pain, but was in such a state of shock that her voice would not permit her to scream...
All those involved with the Order were given so much hope with the return of Hermione. First things first, they had called her parents who were more than relieved and happy when they saw their daughter. Her father had completely been firm in saying how she would never return to the "blasted bloody school" and she would never go back to the "God-forsaken wizarding world".
Getting Hermione back was almost as though they had regained the upper hand, as though hope dwindled all other things which could have initially brought them down. She was safe and that was what was important.
"So," began Ginny, breaking away from her thoughts, "When are you going to let me change your hair back? I mean you must have gone bloody bonkers when they forced you to change your hair color."
Hermione smirked, unbeknownst to Ginny that it was a Malfoy trait she had picked up on, then; "Actually, I kind of like it. I think the black fits well with my light skin."
Hermione looked away thinking about Draco, the one who had said those words to her convincing her to darken her locks. Ginny, on the other hand, thought nothing about it was amusing. Hermione with black hair was about as appealing as Harry with red. She was still beautiful, yes, but it just did not work. Ginny didn't like it. Not one little bit.
The two girls continued to chat–more accurately described as Ginny asking questions and Hermione giving her short and direct answers, some even one worded–before they went downstairs to sit with various order members who were there to monitor her. While the Weasley Family was happy to have her back, safe and relatively unharmed, they were still missing their youngest son and brother. Hermione held the answers of possibly getting him back, all unaware of his demise over one year ago.
His body had already long since been thrown into a heap of cold dirt; no proper headstone put up. The youngest Weasley boy had nothing to identify him even if somebody were to have been looking for him.
Poor lad.
Hermione did not feel the need to tell this family, and yes her thoughts concerning them were detached, about their son. Truth of the matter was she didn't care. Her thoughts on him had changed in the past months when Draco had made some very notable remarks about her former friend. The redheaded boy had always been short and aggressively temperamental with her, on more than one occasion each day. He had never expressed any interest in her other than to gain her help with homework, something he should have been doing all on his own to begin with; if he paid attention in class then it would not have been an issue. On top of it, probably the most critical indication to their lack of friendship, was how they began their friendship in the first place. It had, in fact, been Harry–not Ron–who had run to the bathroom to save her from the troll, let in by the then-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, with him trailing along behind. Had it not been for Harry being there, the ginger-haired boy most likely would have gone to his four-poster bed covered in quidditch posters on a full stomach, no worries on the brain. It was as though the boy had been dragged and forced rather than venturing to save her willingly.
So no, Hermione did not care if his family received any closure. Foolish boy got himself killed in her eyes.
"Hermione is there anything I can get you?" asked Mrs. Weasley, more cheerful than she had been in a year. Hermione had been like a second daughter to her so having her back was just wonderful.
"No thank you," declined Hermione sweetly.
"Um, care to join me for a game of wizard chess?" asked Harry, his voice filled with uncertainty.
"Harry you should know by now, after all of these years, I simply am not up to par with such a game. I assume the moment you asked was a mixture of temporary insanity and the desperate need for a partner."
Harry snorted; his laughter was bright and rich. Now, there is the girl I've been missing. There is the funny, witty girl we all love so much.
"I guess it was the whole desperate thing," he answered coyly.
After a forced giggle, something only she knew to be forced, she suggested, "I think you should play with someone like Ginny considering I just suck at the game."
Truth be told, she was actually a superb chess player. She simply chose not to participate in it. Well, at least until Draco opened her eyes to see there was such a thing as a 'worthy opponent'; he was the opponent.
"Never let it be said I did not ask you to play."
"I won't Harry. I surely will never say it."
While Harry set up the chessboard with the help of a quiet Ginny, Hermione strode over to the window, again her thoughts were drifted to Draco. All she wanted to do was go home.
In the far off distance at the cold Malfoy Manor, Draco was feeling just as much separation anxiety as Hermione. He had been with her, seen her, and listened to her voice for an entire year and suddenly the remarkable girl was just gone. He was disgusted by the thought of her being with the ruddy Weasley family, being comforted by Golden Boy Potter, and the other idiots she had been associating with before she had crossed over. For Draco, this felt like sharing her. If there was one thing he despised, it was sharing what was his.
He did not want to share Hermione.
Despite his conscious effort to just seduce Hermione, her incredible mind and delectable wit ended up captivating him. Draco had found Hermione to be more than just a challenge, more than just something he was set out to conquer—he'd fallen for her. He was not exactly sure when it had happened, but sure enough she had become his only waking thought. Often times it had gotten him at trouble seeing as how he had to balance his life as a death eater with his life at Hogwarts. Professors caught him staring off into space during various times through the course of the class each day. Sitting in the common room with an open book did nothing to sort out his thoughts for all of them would revert to the dark-haired beauty back at his master's lair.
Draco Malfoy was positively smitten.
People had recognized the changes in him though nobody could quite figure out who exactly was the cause for such a besotted turn in the dark Slytherin. Everyone knew of his reputation to dally with the likes of several pureblooded girls, all houses apart from Gryffindor acceptable, but nobody could ever hang on to Draco for very long. He was kind of a 'get in, get out' type of guy. As long as he got what he wanted once, he never found the urge to go back. So who was it to have kept him from his thoughts and dreams and nearly every other thing which made Draco who he was? Nobody ever would have guessed the object of his affections was Hermione 'muggle-born' Granger.
Just being so far away from her without so much as the knowledge of where she was precisely irked him. Damn it! I just wish I could send her a blasted owl. At least let me have a way of speaking with her. If I don't hear from her soon then I'm bound to go mad—
TAP!
Draco looked up to see a tawny owl scratching at his frosted window, urging him to allow him entry. Draco walked over, letting the owl in and quickly taking the parchment the animal had delivered. Immediately he felt his pulse quicken at the sight of the small, tidy scripture on the letter. After opening it without delay, his eyes scanned the dark ink with ferocity—
Draco—
Words cannot express how much I miss you right now. Not having you with me each day is practically murder, but we must do this. When it comes down to it, I must prove myself to everyone. Most especially, I want to prove myself to you.
Everything about this ruddy place is vile, but I will pull through. I have a feeling Dumbledore will be sending me back soon to Hogwarts, along with everyone else, in hopes of me getting back to 'normal'. I can't wait for the day since I'll finally be back to you. It's killing me to not have you, I just can't convey it enough.
Only about a week or so and we'll be together. I promise you I'm alright and safe; you have nothing to worry about.
—Hermione
Draco let out a breath he wasn't aware he was even holding. Something about knowing she was unharmed and thinking of him just allowed him to breathe easier, or in his case entirely.
"Draco, darling?"
He jerked his head at the sound of his mother's voice, the faint calling forcing him to put the letter away and tend to his mother. Family first. It was practically the Malfoy motto since the beginning of time.
Folding the letter neatly, he placed it beneath his pillow before he ventured downstairs to speak with his mother.
"Yes, mum?" he asked, meeting her in the spacious second living room, the sort of family area of the manor, one could say. That is, if they were much of a family to begin with. Draco's relationship with his mother was on very good terms, but his father was more of an acquaintance, a mentor even; not much of a father. Lucius was a feared man and it was the same type of fear he had instilled in Draco when he was a young child. Later, the fear lessened, but he had never had a pleasant connection with Voldemort's right hand man.
"Draco, dear, you've been up in that insufferably cramped room all day as though you're in mourning. Would you mind explaining to me what your problem is exactly?"
Most people would have laughed at her based on her choice words. 'Insufferably cramped' was not the best words to describe the size of Draco's truly and remarkably spacious living quarters. Again, quarters—as in entire floor. Yes, Narcissa definitely was the perfect name given to her at birth. Maybe even a premonition told everyone how pompous she would be one day. Who knows?
"I'm fine, mum. Just...tired is all–"
"Don't lie to me. I know you're going mad because of the...the mud–Granger girl."
Draco twisted in his seat, her near use of the word 'mudblood' vexing him. It was one thing to use the word, he didn't care, but never about her. Okay things had changed and never did he want to hear somebody badmouthing, putting down in any way, his girl. Never.
"Mum, I'm fine. I just...miss her."
"Draco..."
He did not like the motherly tone in her voice nor did he like the way she was facing him, actually giving him her full attention. He had a feeling she was about to say something he did not want to hear.
"Guard your heart."
"What?"
"Guard your heart, Draco," she whispered. Draco gulped thickly as she continued, "I've never seen you like this before and I certainly did not expect you to feel this way over this one girl. Nevertheless, you've appeared to have given her a part of you. You still have your heart to give and I want you to watch out for it. Do not let her break it."
"Mum...it was just a task and it turned into something...I don't know; more. I didn't plan on this," he replied honestly.
"I know you didn't and it scares me even more to know you didn't. Draco she is a task. She was not someone you were suppose to fall in love with."
"Did I say I was in love?" he asked, looking away from her gaze.
"No. Your eyes did."
Draco looked up, shocked and flustered; he knew she was right.
"Please come sit down, Hermione."
She looked behind her to see every eye in the room zoning in on her. Hermione's defensive nature caused her to rise slowly, scanning the room for whatever possibly could have made them focus on her. It hit her swiftly given her common sense was much higher than most.
"Oh, hello Professor Dumbledore. I did not hear you come into the room."
"Quite alright, Hermione. It is lovely to see you again. I trust everything went well with your parents or are they still regarding our world with a hostile attitude?" he asked kindly.
"Their outlooks changed once I spoke with them. They just have to understand I am my own person and I made them see it."
Dumbledore looked back to Hermione, but without the usual, almost expected twinkle in his eye. They just need to understand I am my own person and I made them see it. Those words sounded foreign coming from Hermione's pink lips, uttered through her soft voice. The words were just not like her. If she had said, 'I think my parents just needed to understand I am my own person and I'm trying to help them see it,' then it would have seemed very much like the Hermione everyone knew; always wanting to help others better understand things. However, key words just threw him off. Hermione said 'need to understand' which was leading Dumbledore to believe that the Granger family had yet to come to terms with it exactly. Why is she here? Why would they let her go if they were still unsure about our world? Dumbledore did not like it. Then there was the latter part of her statement—'I made them see it'. Hermione had practically spoke with a sing-song attitude, an unfamiliar assertiveness for her. Hermione would no sooner make them see such a thing than walk on water with weights on her back. So why say it? Why?
"So Professor Dumbledore, how can I help you?" she asked amiably.
"I am here to speak with you about how we're going to handle your special situation."
"Sir, I really just want to get back to my life. Here is nice and I love the Weasley family, but I need to get back to my normal life. Everything is normal at Hogwarts and it's where I belong. I'd rather be there than anywhere else so I don't...I don't see why I can't go back."
"Hermione I want nothing more than for you to go back, but you were gone for over a year. A lot has changed since your departure."
"I know that. I know everything is different and I know there are rumors and I...I just know everything you're telling me. I don't care though. I'd rather be there and fighting off the rumors than sulking about what happened. I'm not traumatized. I can go back."
"Don't you think you owe yourself some more time to recover?"
"I owe myself more than I owe anyone else, yes. What I want is to go back to Hogwarts, to my home. It's all I want. Please let me go back."
Various Order members sighed at her plea, unsure of how to handle the young girl. Her chocolate eyes were nearly blinding with misery and desolation like it almost seemed to break her heart to think about not getting back to her school. Ginny and Harry exchanged glances before reverting their gazes back to the sable-haired girl.
"Please, can't you try to understand?" she implored despondently.
"It's not that we don't understand, dear, but we just want what is best for you. Time will heal this and–"
"And Hogwarts will heal this," she interjected fiercely. "I'm smart. I'm really smart and when I'm learning and pushing myself to try and be the best then I can do anything. I'm capable of so much and I don't want to be left behind because of this happening. All I want is the chance to go and learn and graduate with my friends. This...it's drained so much out of me..."
Small crystal tears started to fall down her cheek, instantly chilling everyone in the room. To see the once seemingly brave girl breakdown like she was nearly toppled them over. Hermione sobbed, albeit inwardly smiling, alerting everyone how much she needed Hogwarts. Not just wanted to go; needed.
"Albus, the poor girl's heart is breaking and..." Mrs. Weasley broke away, her own tears filling her eyes and wracking her body.
"I know. It goes against my better judgement, but I think I will allow it."
"You will?" she asked, looking up to meet his eyes, tears brimming the outer rim of her eyelashes.
"On the condition that you'll speak with me regularly and allow me to help monitor your progress in hopes of helping you get back to normal."
"Most definitely. There won't be any secrets with me," she said melodiously.
Nearly everyone beamed wholeheartedly at Hermione's comment except for Professor Dumbledore. With a small grin, he stared at the now seventeen year old girl and never thought she'd looked more innocent.
A/N: So what did you guys think? This chapter was so frustrating because I could not use the word 'magic'! Lol, curse you StormMasters for making this so hard on me!! Hehe, but I asked for it so I guess I can't complain. I just want to mention to everyone how I am known for surprising my readers. I know a lot of you are doubting me with this, the plot with Hermione evil and all, but just wait - things will get much crazier and more fun as time progresses.
Next chapter - Back at Hogwarts...hehehe!!
Oh and I'm dealing with midterms all week so please be patient with me on the updates. I really can't write as often as I'd like when I need to study so much. I'm sorry for this, but again, your patience will be welcomed by me. :)
READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it.
Evil's Mistress is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.