Note: Chapter 5! Woot! This story is doing great... I hope O.o Anyway, I would like a little more reviews from you guys... I'm not asking for that many, just... a few more. Let's say around 35? You can do this! Anyhow, here is the next chapter...

Chapter 5: The Psychopathic Phantom of the Opera

"Actually, there are some good pureblood families interested in you..." said Hermione's mother. "The Malfoy heir, in particular. He is quite charming, but there's something cold about him. Polite, but also distant. He actually said he had a good relationship with you. Is it true? Do you know him? It would ease the process, I mean, marrying a stranger would be much more difficult for you, I suppose..."

He actually said he had a good relationship with her? Yeah, right. Go ahead, Malfoy. You surely had a good laugh about that, didn't you? And now she had to agree with his blatant lies! To help him! One more time, she asked God to kill her on the spot. Either God hated her, or he didn't exist, because he didn't answer the prayers.

"He's a good guy behind the façade when you take the time to get to know him, mom. He's probably the one I'd choose for a husband out of everyone who attended the party yesterday."

If that wasn't a hint, she wondered what could be one.

She felt like she was betraying not only Imelda, but also her whole future. The worst of it, though, was that the last lie Hermione had told her was also a truth. He was the one she considered most to be her future husband. The lie behind it? It wasn't in the way Imelda would understand it; it wasn't because he was someone she liked a bit, but because he had threatened her, that he would become her husband. There resided the difference, in one simple sentence. The reality: a lie and a truth all in one, at the same time, different meanings for different people. The benefit of it didn't even appear clear to her. She had a choice to make. To marry someone she hated, or someone even worse. Her life as a recognised pureblood wasn't as appealing as she dreamed it would be when she was a child.

She heard her mother babble in the distance, not really paying attention to the fact her daughter wasn't listening until a certain Zabini was mentioned. Hermione tilted her head up so rapidly she swore she had broken something in her neck.

"...Quite good-looking, and he had this wedding ring from his family..."

"Excuse me, but... what was it you said again?"

"Blaise Zabini, dear. He looks forward to marrying you, too," responded her mother with a peaceful smile.

"Malfoy may be an arrogant brat," Hermione thought, "but he sure knows his friends. If he considers Zabini as such, of course. He'd better not have lied to me about Blaise's tendency to violence, or he'll know what pains really mean... Okay, now, what do I answer my mom?"

"They say he shagged almost every girl in our year and above. I don't think he's the best party, don't you too, mom?"

Thank you, rumours. Even if these ones were more about Malfoy than Zabini... She couldn't say he was useless, after all. If he wasn't such a charming, handsome guy, then, he wouldn't attract so many girls' attention who would say their fantasies aloud...

Wait, wait! There was no way she had just said that! It must have been Lavender's fault, or Ginny's... they were the ones who thought he was the bachelor of the school, after all. Right after Harry, of course. Or maybe it was just a trick of her mind? To subconsciously ease her pain? She remembered what the girls had said about Malfoy so she would see at least one good side from his proposal. Sadly enough, she wouldn't let herself to think about him as a handsome guy. He was too vile for that. And she didn't put much importance to appearances anyway. So... the subconscious would have to find other things up his sleeve to ease her view of the situation.

"Hermione dear, don't say «shag». It's improper."

"Sorry mom. Hum... I'll just... go see Edward, okay?"

After a moment, she asked:

"Where is he, by the way?"

Her mother smiled knowingly at this and answered he was back at his store; Hermione would have to take Floo Powder to get to him. That's exactly what she did... excepting the fact she didn't pronounce the shop's name correctly. And she got to a not-so-wonderful house, by chance empty, with an only window letting her see trees as far as her vision would go.

"Where on earth am I? Is it me or do I literally attract problems lately?"

As she heard a faint clashing sound in the distance she quickly scanned the room for a place to hide. Luckily, she almost immediately saw a big oak wardrobe in which she instantly hopped in to hide herself from any source of life nearby. That source of life turned up the second she was out of view, but also before she could close the wardrobe's heavy door, resulting in the fact she was stuck between multiple clothes... and he could see her any moment if he had the idea of examining the furniture more closely. But at least she could see him where she was.

She examined the man, who obviously owned the house where she had landed into. He had a cloak on, even if he was inside, and a white masquerade mask covered half of his face, giving him a mysterious but mean look; like a phantom of the opera, in a psychopathic sort of way. She could see, though, he had wavy chestnut hair; he was quite tall, even for a man, or at least he gave the impression he was. It may as well have been his gigantic ego for what she cared, he still looked like a giant. Not like Grawp, of course, because the man seemed slimmer than built, and he had manicured hands...

"Mavvy, have you done what I ordered yet?" said the man to someone she couldn't see.

"No," replied who she logically thought was Mavvy.

"No? How come?"

He seemed tired, not a bit surprised by the answer of the other. She figured he was used to the news.

"Thomas, you know that it has been 11 years now that we've known about the Pure's existence and as many that we've spent searching for him. Without a name, my men cannot..."

"I know, Mavvy. I was just hoping..."

He chuckled, as if 'hoping' was something funny. "Strange man," thought Hermione for herself.

"Still this Malfoy boy denies it is him. I'm starting to believe him..."

Malfoy? Why would he talk about Malfoy? What did her future husband still deny? "He'd better not have gotten himself in trouble if it can get to me..."

"You said yourself he is connected to the Pure. If he isn't, why would he attract the Gold Chain?"

"Why would he deny being the Pure, in that case? Lucius thought him well; he would surely believe in our cause. Why, then, would he still deny, Mavvy?"

Mavvy remained silent, until the one he called Thomas spoke again, a look of disbelief painted on his face.

"Or maybe we thought wrong all along, Mavvy... Maybe we thought wrong!"

"I am afraid I don't follow your mind, Thomas. What are you talking about?"

"We assumed the Gold Chain would be attracted by the Pure, thus making it an instrument to find him. But," he continued, "what if we were wrong?"

"You mean to say the Gold Chain isn't attracted to the Malfoy kid because of who he is?"

Thomas let out a shrieking laugh, nearly making Hermione jump with fright.

"Call two of your men back, and order them to find out everything about the Gold Chain. And," he said after a long moment, "give this to Emily."

He picked out of one of his cloak's pockets, a parchment and a quill he used to scribble a note rapidly. He folded it in two, handed it to Mavvy, and Hermione figured out they got outside the room together as she heard two different sounds of footsteps getting more distant by the second. She let a small gasp of air escape her lips when she was sure the two of them were definitely gone and opened the wardrobe's door wider than it was, taking a peak from her hiding spot. No one in view, the coast was clear.

"Time to escape, time to escape... how do I escape?"

She nervously took another glance around the room, checking for any unwanted presence. The room was still empty, of people as well as of Floo Powder, alas... she didn't know what to do, until one thought occurred to Hermione.

"Hey! I'm a witch! Didn't I read a book about turning an object into a Portkey some time ago?"

A grin appeared on her features as she remembered the spell (which she had learned while searching for a solution to the second task of the Triwizard tournament in fourth year, in the restricted section). She grabbed the first thing she thought would do the job, muttered the spell and went directly back to her bedroom. She carelessly threw the object she used as a Portkey on her bed and went down the stairs to the dining room, where her mother was sitting minutes ago –but she was now gone, and Hermione was thankful for that. She didn't know why; maybe it was the fact she was still shy around her, while Imelda acted like she had been a present mother from the first day of Hermione's life. Which she hadn't been.

She went to look for Floo Powder and finally managed to get into her brother's shop.

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Ooooh! It's getting mysterious... Hope you liked this one! I'm sorry I didn't update on Sunday as I had said I would. Time passes by so quickly... I couldn't believe it had already been a week since the last update! Oh well, maybe it's just me.

And remember: reviews! XD

Featherstrike

... and D. and Firnoviel :)