Why?
There were millions of questions Draco continued to ask himself over and over as he walked in stunned silence back to his office, but "why" was at the heart of each one. Watching the students that passed him in the halls, seemingly in slow-motion, the only sounds Draco heard were that of his shallow breathing and hollow footsteps.
Why did Everett Landon come to Hogwarts? Why did McGonagall hire him? Why does he have to be so charismatic? Why did he put that boggart in my classroom? Why does Hermione have to be so blind to his true character? Why him?
Needless to say, the one-sided debate raging in Draco's head caused him to feel nauseous. He decided to retire to his bed early instead of confronting Hermione about Everett later that evening, as he had planned. He wouldn't have known what to say to her now, anyway.
Hermione, on the other hand, was feeling elated. She was proud of herself, very proud of herself indeed. She had learned to swim, and overcome her fear of swimming, under very frightening and unsafe circumstances.
Of course, it was all because of Everett…. sigh… What an idiot. Well, a sweet idiot. He was trying to give me something fun to experience…and I guess it did turn out alright in the end...but still.
Hermione continued to her office, unsure of what she would say to Everett the next time she saw him. Memories of the adventure played across her mind: Everett's concerned face as he looked at her in the hut, the feeling of wonder she experienced in the ruby cave, the gentleness in the way Everett supported her when she had almost lost consciousness…
Distracted by these thoughts and venturing upon daydreaming, Hermione almost bowled over a student waiting outside her office door.
The girl had a small stature and curly brown hair, cut very short and parted on one side.
"Professor…Granger?" The girl's shy voice and lowered gaze appealed to Hermione.
"Yes?" Bright blue eyes finally rose and looked at Hermione for a moment, before lowering to the floor again.
"I'm…I'm a transfer student from…from Beauxbaton School. The Headmistress said you were to…to be my teacher?" Another shy glance.
"To get you caught up with the rest of the students?" Hermione vaguely remembered McGonagall mentioning something like this to her early that morning. "You are a first year Hufflepuff?"
"Yes."
"Come back to my office first thing after breakfast tomorrow, and we will begin with your charms lesson then." Hermione smiled at the tiny girl, who hurriedly returned the action and quickly weaved her way through the hall in the opposite direction.
Hermione shut the door of her office behind her. I wonder what scared her so much?
Glancing in the mirror on the wall opposite her, Hermione put her hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh. She had weeds tangled in her hair from the lake. Oh! Why didn't Everett tell me! I'll need to get these out before I frighten anyone else.
And so Hermione finished laying out her lesson plan for the transfer student the next morning, and retired to her flat, at once taking a shower to relieve her hair of the foreign objects.
As she lay in bed, Hermione's last fleeting thought before drifting off to a deep sleep from the wearisome day was of Everett. There was something about him…
Idiot. You are such an idiot!–No, a git. A huge git. How could you have been so bloody stupid!?
Once again, Everett found himself reprimanding his moronic actions and the trouble he had caused Hermione by asking her to go scuba diving with him. Yeah, right. Scuba diving, he mocked himself. I should find a way to make it up to her, make up for this unfortunate event…blasted idiot…wait! I should talk to McGonagall…at least then I might be able to free myself from this guilt…
Everett was sitting alone on the grassy slope by the lake. After he had dried his clothes and warmed himself, his mind had wandered to Hermione, and the fright he must have caused her.
But now he had made his resolution, and he planned to fulfill it the next morning before anything else. Everett ran a hand across the back of his neck, sighed, and stood up. Brushing his pants off, he once again made headway for the castle, and his flat within its walls.
Once Everett had showered, eaten a humble meal, and outlined what he was to say to McGonagall the next morning, he retired to his bed, pulling the quilt up to his chest and linking his hands behind his head. There was something that had depressed Everett earlier, which he had tried his best to forget about, but to no avail.
Ron.
When Hermione had mentioned Ron's death that afternoon, Everett's mind had clouded over, numbed with the image of his old friend's goofy grin as it played over and over in his head. Luckily Hermione had snapped him out of his reverie before he was completely gone.
Ron…died…and I wasn't here. This thought haunted Everett, and he tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position–his bed suddenly felt scratchy and hot.
Ron died and I wasn't here.
Everett got out of bed and ran his hands through his wet hair. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
I wasn't here to protect him…I wasn't here to save him…I could have saved him! Everett's body raked (I think I've heard that expression, but is that the right word?) with silent sobs as the anger he felt towards himself released itself in hot tears down his scarred face.
He was my best friend…and I wasn't here. And Hermione…she loved him! Where was I when she needed me!? Gone! I left them…I wasn't here…I wasn't here…I never got to say goodbye…
Everett shook his head, trying to force this realization away, trying to make it untrue. He stumbled to his sink and turned on the faucet, cupping the cool water in his hands and splashing it on his face.
…no…no…
He needed more.
Everett ran to the shower and turned it on, immersing himself in the stinging liquid, clothes and all, until the burning water soaked him to the bone.
The process slowly cleansed him from his living nightmare, and Everett calmed down enough to where he was able to stumble back to his bed.
After turning off the light, the young professor lay awake, staring up at the dark ceiling of his room. He forced his mind back to other things, once again mentally reminding himself to speak to McGonagall the next morning.
The object he had found in the ruby cave had all but escaped his memory.
"…when you finish your charms assignment, start on the transfiguration task I set for you. Come and get me when you think you have it so that I might grade your work."
"Yes, Professor Granger." Hermione shut the door on her way out of the classroom in which she had set up the first year Hufflepuff, watching as Sophie Bonnaire picked up her quill and began to write before closing it all the way.
Sophie Bonnaire had attended Beuaxbaton for two days before her mother, who was British, divorced her father, who was French, and decided to move back to London and send her daughter to Hogwarts.
She's sure holding up well, Hermione observed. She kind of reminds me of Draco. Well, the Draco I know now. Hermione smiled about the uncanny similarities between the two of them; the stuttering, the timid behavior, it was all quite hilarious in her mind.
Now returning to her office after teaching for two hours, the young professor sat herself down in her leather-cushioned chair and balanced her chin on her right hand. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, hoping to bring herself to the state of peace that she had missed for so long …She opened her eyes. Oh well, I tried. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Hermione sat up and pulled out her next week's lesson plans so she could review the material.
Here goes nothing.
"Velvet color," Everett whispered.
The stairway began to spiral up at the password, and Everett jumped on as it brought him up to McGonagall's office. He had risen very early once again, because of his nightmare, and had paced his flat for several hours before he decided that McGonagall should be up by now.
But her office was empty. Everett inwardly cursed, but at what he did not know. He sat down in a wooden rocking chair and appraised the gingersnaps sitting on her desk before taking a couple.
Everett felt like it had been ages since McGonagall had asked him to teach, when in fact it had only been a couple of days. He continued to munch on the treats, but he felt like someone was watching him. Glancing about the office, Everett's wandering eyes halted rather quickly when they landed on…
"Good morning, Professor Landon. What can I help you with?" Everett was too distracted to notice McGonagall had entered her office.
"Oh, good morning Headmistress."
She nodded at him, her severe gaze contradicting her warm eyes, encouraging him to continue and state his business.
Everett pulled his gaze away from what he had been staring at and looked McGonagall in the eyes. He picked at a loose thread on his robes.
"I wanted to discuss the matter you had asked me to help with…the matter of helping Hermione heal from her past and learn to socialize again?" Here Everett stopped and looked down for a moment, but when he raised his eyes again they were determined.
"I won't do it anymore. At least, not because you asked me to. I think it's best if Hermione learns for herself, not because anybody else is helping to push her along. I tried to help her, and all I think I did was make her condition worse. So I'm asking you to release me from this burden, so that I won't feel guilty about being around her anymore."
When he had finished, McGonagall was sitting up as straight and dignified as ever, her hands crossed on her desk… but her eyes were downcast and the smile in her eyes had diminished. After an awkward silence she spoke, the coldness just barely disguised in her voice.
"I understand your point, Mr. Landon, but I still think it for the best if you continue to help her stop wallowing in her past and heal the misery she has experienced."
"But I think she's already made–" McGonagall help up her hand to stop the interruption. "–some improvements." Everett finished his sentence under his breath.
"Be that as it may, Mr. Landon, you will continue to be her friend and spend time with her. You may leave my office now."
Although McGonagall smiled coldly at him as Everett left her office, deep down she felt embarrassed by her behavior and hurt by his request. She needed some advice before the day was out.
When Draco had gotten up in the morning, he washed his face, combed his hair, made himself a cup of chamomile tea, and read the Daily Prophet. His typical weekend morning.
That is, his typical weekend morning until he remembered the previous day.
Once the image of Hermione's hand on Everett's shoulder pervaded his thoughts, there was no going back to the calm morning Draco had once enjoyed. Instead, his face turned ugly as he quickly dressed and raced to his office, where he pulled open the drawer in which the letter to Hermione was hidden.
I'll be done with this now! I won't have it! I can't stand it
And so Draco ripped the letter to shreds, each piece floating to the floor following its own unique path, the innocent words on the parchment now perceived as ghastly in Draco's mind.
I must be done with this! I must tell Hermione! I must… But just then the anger and hatred which had clouded Draco's better judgment cleared, harboring in the new awareness of what he had done.
"My letter!" Draco fell to his knees and began gathering the pieces together, his shocked and bemused face turned this way and that until his glasses fell off.
"My glasses!"
"Here they are, Professor." Kip Flaggan had appeared in the doorway, a quizzical expression plastered on his face as he reached down to pick up the spectacles.
"Oh! Thank you…thank you, Flaggan." Draco regained composure as best he could.
"What're those pieces of parchment?" Kip pointed to the ripped letter in Draco's hand.
"Oh nothing! They're nothing," Draco replied as he quickly shoved them into the rubbish bin by his desk. "Th…thank you for retrieving my glasses. Run along now."
"Okay…bye, Professor."
As Kip turned to leave, Draco had an epiphany…
"Wait! Kip, come back! I–I think you can help me with something."
The rest of the morning and the afternoon passed for all the castle inhabitants like molasses.
Professor Hermione Granger continued tutoring Sophie Bonnaire until seven o'clock that evening, stopping only at the library on the way to her flat to pick up a new book (The Miracles of Mermen), for some "light" reading. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stayed in her office for the majority of the day, finally resolving to ask her mentor for advice on the subject of Everett's address. Professor Draco Malfoy and Kip Flaggan discussed their plan to figure out just who, exactly, Professor Everett Landon really is (where he came from, his purpose at Hogwarts, etc), and Professor Everett Landon…
Professor Everett Landon had decided it did not matter what McGonagall's reply was, or would be. He would remain friends with Hermione for his own benefit, and if she just so happened to heal in the process, then all the better. In fact, he had decided he wanted to get to know her better as a friend, and that was why he was going to visit her tonight.
Scritch scritch scritch
"Coming!" Hermione put her book down, pulled the blanket off of her knees, and headed toward the door. She peered through the eyehole but couldn't see anybody. As she was in her nightgown, she didn't exactly want anybody to see her not fully dressed.
"Is anybody there?"
Um… Just outside the door, Everett was at a loss for words. "Meow" just didn't seem to cut it, but it was the best he had in his present condition.
"Meow."
"Oh, hello again!" Hermione unbolted and opened her door. "Come on in, I didn't see you there. Would you like some milk?"
As she closed and bolted the door and went to her small kitchen to retrieve the milk, the scraggly black cat hopped up on her bed and glanced at the three-inch-thick book. Losing interest, it curled up on a pillow and half shut its emerald eyes.
"Here we go…" Hermione placed the saucer of milk on the floor, and got into her bed, closing The Miracles of Mermen and placing it on her nightstand.
"How are you doing tonight?" The cat yawned as Hermione scratched it behind the ears, leaning into her hand when Hermione found a good spot. It looked up at her, and she smiled down at it, glad that she had found a friend to talk to.
"Today was interesting. I taught a transfer student named Sophie all about transfiguration and charms and arithmancy…awfully bright for a first year, her mother must be very proud.
The cat meowed and stretched, arching its back before curling up next to Hermione, who lay down next to it and began stroking the patchy hair along its back. She propped up her head on an elbow.
"You know, this whole school year has been rather…different…from all the other ones so far. The students seem more excited about learning this year, Draco finally has enough courage to talk to strangers," Hermione laughed. "Well at least to some."
"It's just been different. But a good different." The cat turned its head up to look at Hermione, and she scratched its head once more.
"I also made a new friend, a man named Everett Landon." At this, the cat seemed to stop moving for a moment, but then started purring.
"He's nice and charming, and very attractive, but there's just something about him that I can't quite put my finger on. It's like, like he's almost hiding something, you know? Well, how could you know, you're only a cat." Hermione laughed at her own joke and turned off the light on her bedside table.
"I think I might even have a crush on him… oh, listen to me! I sound like I'm a student at Hogwarts again, instead of the Professor of Hogwarts that I am!
"But he took me scuba diving, you know. Remember the book I had the last time you visited me? About Muggle scuba diving? Well, Everett took me scuba diving in the lake here.
"I mean, it didn't turn out well for us at all, actually, but the thought was sweet. And I learned to swim!" Hermione said this with a wave of her hand and immediately hugged the cat when it purred even louder.
"Oh well, hopefully he won't be too ashamed as to never speak to me again… I'd quite like it if he did …"
And then Hermione drifted off to sleep, one arm under her pillow and the other draped across the black cat next to her.
Dumbledore paced back and forth in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back, patiently waiting. A calm smile played at the corners of his mouth, lost in memory. The vision of a feisty girl with bushy brown hair arguing with a gangly ginger-haired boy played repeatedly in his mind.
SLAM.
Glancing down from his picture frame, Dumbledore watched as McGonagall tiredly sat down in his old armchair, behind his old weathered desk, in his old office. She placed a hand at her temple, conjured herself up a cup of tea, and sighed. She had just returned from dinner. Dumbledore waited.
"Albus, I just don't know what to do anymore. As soon as I try to solve one problem, another one arises."
Dumbledore sat down in the chair in his picture, watching the uncharacteristically defeated headmistress beneath him. He gazed at her with a knowing expression.
"Maybe that's the problem, Minerva. Stop trying."
"But Albus! I just can't sit by and let Hermione continue to be miserable! Or–"
"–Minerva." The old headmaster gave her a reprimanding stare. "I think it's time you stopped trying, and let Hermione make her own choices. I think it's time you let one of your decisions run its own course. You know he looked at me today."
"But–"
"Minerva." Dumbledore laced his hands together in his lap. "Accept Everett's decision. It is his right to decide when he should stop helping Hermione. In order for her to move on with her life, she needs to help herself. You and Everett have given her the push she needs to do that. Let it happen."
McGonagall pleaded with her friend and mentor. "Albus…"
"No, Minerva, " Dumbledore sternly cut her off before she could continue. "It is time for fate to run its own course. Inform Professor Landon that you have reconsidered his decision, and think it is for the best."
"I know it might be…for the best. But I still feel that Hermione needs help, and if she were to find out about–well nothing good would have come of this!"
"You do not know that, Minerva." Dumbledore stood up with a tone of finality in his voice but a look of compassion in his eyes. "Let it happen."
Everett's eyes opened slowly as the sunlight coming through his window pierced their slumber, then shut again. He tried to move his arm, but winced and moaned instead.
Oh Merlin that hurts!… He tried to move his leg. OW! …WHY did Hermione have to bolt the bloody door!?.
When he had visited Hermione the previous night as a cat, she had bolted the door behind him, so when Everett had tried to slip out in the middle of the night, he was unable to. Instead he waited until Hermione was completely asleep in the early morning hours, and had then transfigured, unbolted the door, and hurried back to his flat. He just wished she wouldn't remember she had bolted the door…
When he had returned safely to his own flat, luckily just before the rest of the castle got up, Everett had shut the door behind him and immediately collapsed on the floor, exhausted from staying awake practically all night waiting for the opportune moment to let himself out.
OW! …I hate transfiguration…
For all those unfamiliar with the consequences of being an animagus, it is exceedingly hard to understand the stiffness and pain that ensues from remaining in animal form for over eight hours, and in one position at that.
That is the pain Everett awoke with the next morning, coupled with the added stiffness from sleeping on the floor for another two hours. Needless to say, a warm shower was in desperate want.
After Everett had taken a potion to numb his stiff joints, and taken the aforementioned warm shower, he shaved and stared at himself in the mirror for awhile, scrutinizing the testaments to his accomplishment which spanned the right side of his head.
Just then a school owl pecked at the window, delivering a personal letter from McGonagall stating that she had reconsidering his decision and thought it a wise choice. Everett was pleased. His friendship with Hermione could now continue with one less thing to feel guilty about. He was friends with her of his own accord.
She had looked so beautiful last night…that nightgown! I mean, wow. And she's attracted to me!...no…she's attracted to E…oh! Breakfast started an hour ago! I'm starving!
Everett gave the owl a treat for the delivery and set off for the Great Hall, still limping a little as he walked.
Draco had been avoiding her, and Hermione had noticed. She was utterly clueless as to why, and therefore unconcerned, thinking that it was just another of his mood swings. He had been getting those a lot lately.
So Hermione continued to eat her breakfast with as much gusto as ever, still thinking about her conversation with the cat from the night before. Well, not a conversation, it's not like the cat can talk. I remember it did thrash about at one point…as if it was having a nightmare…
"Oh–Everett!" He had slipped in just as stealthily as the first day Hermione had seen him. Now he sat next to her, helping himself to some crepes (the house elves had been trying foreign dishes), and stuffing as much food in his mouth as he possibly could to avoid talking to Hermione. Only she didn't know that.
The student body in the Great Hall was thinning as girls and boys alike finished their meals and went off to enjoy the fine day. McGonagall wiped her mouth with a napkin and nodded at Everett as she left to her duties. Draco was nowhere to be seen.
Everett finished his breakfast rather hurriedly and excused himself, offering a quick smile to Hermione. He retreated from her presence to his office, intent on getting some work done to distract himself from the knowledge that she liked him. It was overbearing his thoughts and permeating his concentration. It was difficult for Everett to even get the simplest task done…for he returned her affection in his heart as well.
Twenty minutes into reviewing his agenda for teaching the next day, a quiet knock pulled Everett's glance from the parchment on his desk to his office door.
Hermione. All Everett could do was stare at her.
"Hi, Everett. If you don't mind, could I keep you company for awhile? I've nothing to do this morning." Hermione watched Everett as his face changed from a look of bemusement to a look of welcome.
"Sure. Come on in, " Everett replied as he once again went back to work…or at least pretended to be working. Hermione sat down in a chair next to his desk and pulled out a thin book from her robes (She had pulled the nearest book off her shelf on the way to Everett's office, simply to give herself something other to do than just stare at him).
Flipping through to the first bookmark, Hermione paused. Oh…I didn't realize this was in here… The bookmark was a picture of Dumbledore's Army from all those years ago. She was smiling at the camera with her arms thrown around Harry and Ginny's shoulders… Hermione shut the book rather quickly, drawing a quizzical look from Everett before he went back to working.
I had such great friends back then… By now this picture was bringing back an assortment of memories of all those friends she had loved and lost, who had died or moved away…or disappeared…I miss them so much…
Not now… Silent tears had begun to trickle down Hermione's blushing cheeks. I don't need this now. I have a great friend here. Everett is my friend. He taught me how to swim and tried to give me a wonderful adventure. He talks and listens to me…
By now Hermione's tears were subsiding.
"Um, Hermione? Are you okay?" Everett had put his work down and was now standing up.
"What? Oh, no I'm fine."
"But you're crying…what's the matter?" Everett leaned against his desk, his hands gripping the edges and his eyes seeming to look into Hermione's soul.
"Nothing, really, I'm fine." Hermione also stood up and put a hand on Everett's arm. "I was just reminded of something sad, but now I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
Hermione wrapped her arms around Everett's neck and pulled him into a hug. He had no idea what her words meant, but he was glad she was hugging him. He wrapped his arms around Hermione and held her as she rested her head against his shoulder, every now and then rubbing her back.
There came a point when both of them realized just how long they had stood there embracing one another. Hermione pulled away from Everett's shoulder and put her hand to the side of his face, running her thumb along his scars, watching as his eyes tried to make sense of her gesture.
And then he got it.
Draco was hiding out in his office, the door bolted and the shutters pulled tight on the window to block out unwanted stares from mocking students on the fields below.
He was pissed off. Attempting to recreate the letter he had so unceremoniously destroyed the previous day proved to be rather difficult. But he had finally pulled it off, and the new letter now sat in the middle of his desk, waiting to be delivered. Draco decided it'd best be given to Hermione himself. Sending it by owl just seemed so impersonal.
The letter seemed to call to him: Give me to Hermione…give me to Hermione….hurry!…hurry!…
"Fine! I'm going, I'm going!" Draco stormed out of his office with the letter in hand, calming himself down by the methodical recitation of the ingredients required for a veritaserum potion. By the time he reached Hermione's office, the tranquil and timid aura which so often surrounded Draco had once again descended upon him.
He turned the doorknob to find nothing but a small girl with short curly brown hair.
"Do you know where I could find Professor Granger, miss?" He pushed his glasses up his nose.
"I was looking for her too, I have my homework for her to grade. Are you…Professor Malfoy?" Sophia Bonnaire shyly asked.
"Yes." Draco was surprised this girl knew who he was.
She didn't say anything else, but instead sat down in a chair to wait for Hermione, Draco decided he'd have better luck looking for her elsewhere. He headed down the hall to ask Professor Kraft, the Herbology teacher, if he knew where Hermione had gone.
Kraft didn't know, but a sixth year Ravenclaw had overheard the conversation.
"I know where Professor Granger went."
And then he got it.
"Hermione." Everett's voice was husky as he whispered her name.
Hermione's hand caressed Everett's hair as the other settled itself on Everett's chest.
They still stood together, Everett leaning against his desk and embracing Hermione, who leaned into him. Everett couldn't believe what was happening, the only word present in his mind right now was Hermione, the only thing he could feel was her soft touch on his skin.
Hermione's gaze, at once spellbinding and uniting into Everett's own, slowly descended to rest on his lips. Everett's did the same.
As their faces moved closer, Everett's heart began to beat faster and faster until he felt as if he would die if the moment were to end. He cupped Hermione's cheek in one hand, gazing at her beautiful face one last time before…
The rusted hinges of the office door creaked open, the horrid sound slicing through the perfect moment. On instinct, Hermione pulled away from Everett to see who had come.
Draco was standing at the door, a shocked expression painted across his face. Everett thought he saw a folded piece of parchment in one of Draco's hands.
It looked like a letter.