Chapter Thirteen

Ron Reformed

In a room above the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione reeled. She sat on one of the two beds, her nose tickling from the stirred dust. She nervously twirled her hair, biting her lip. She tried not to yell, but the longer she glared at Nott, the more composure she lost. How could he look so calm? He was standing against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, idly staring up at the ceiling.

At last, she lost it. She got to her feet, prepared to rant, but all she could do was yell, "Goyle?!"

He nodded, not taking his sights away from the dirty ceiling.

"Goyle?! How? He's been so stupid for years!"

"He's been smarter than us all."

That seemed unlikely. It was Goyle. He did look as dumb as he was. "For twelve years he's put on an act of stupidity? That can't be right."

"He was raised this way. In the same way me and Draco were raised to be Death Eaters, Gregory was raised in lies. His intelligence... How do you suppose he passed all of his exams?"

"I thought he cheated..."

"Granger, I know this all is a shock for you."

He was comforting her! Those years she thought things were one way and suddenly they weren't. No one told her. She didn't pay enough attention. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You knew about it!"

"I suspected, yes."

She shook from rage. "And you didn't tell anyone?" If he had brought light to who Goyle really was then it all could've been avoided. They wouldn't be there after a duel over a dangerous object. She came to one conclusion in her fury. "You let Draco die!"

His eyes sprung open, a surpassing anger smoldering them. "No," he shouted stomping in front of her. He was so close they were nearly touching the soles of their shoes, their noses a hair-widths away. She flinched but he carried on.

"All I knew was that Goyle was smart! That's hardly a crime, if it was, you'd be the first in Azkaban. I had no idea Draco would be killed! I'd never risk that! How dare you, you absurd mudblood! He was my best friend!"

Tears poured, her chest heaving with the effort to keep breathing. She collapsed on top of the bed, her head in her hands. It was all messed up.

The mattress dipped on her left, and Nott's arm wrapped over her shoulders. I understand you're sad," he said softly, "but don't ever blame me for his death."

"I'm sorry," she cried thickly. "I am."

"I am too."

Perplexed, she lowered her shield looking up at him through the stream coating her face. "Why?"

"I will kill Goyle, and I regret tonight not being the night I could do so. We have to destroy that book first."

"How?"

"I'm not sure..."

"We need to go see Harry and Ron."

"Fine," he agreed cuttingly. "I'll send them an Owl. They can meet us here." He stood and at the old rickety desk he pulled out aged paper and began writing, the feather waving.

She observed the muscles in his arms, tensing, his long fingers curled around the quill. He was tall, lean, but strong. His sandy brown hair, like caramel, was curly, almost reaching his chin. He was... Handsome. He was a good man. She had a little proof other than Malfoy's true friendship with him...

Hermione and Draco sat across from each other in one of the empty classrooms on the seventh floor. He wouldn't allow her to go into the dungeons past nightfall. His excuse was that if he was caught with her by Gryffindors the result would be a bad hex. If she was caught by Slytherin's they would do much worse.

From inside of her robes she took out a small package decorated in shiny green wrapping. She placed it on his lap. "Happy sixteenth birthday, Draco."

"My birthday was in June."

"I know, but we can't be together in the summer. What did you expect? Me to mail it? Not with your parents on the watch. Open it up."

He tore off the paper and flipped the lid off the black box. He lifted a small silver and red top, balancing it in his hand. "A Sneakoscope. Um, thanks, Hermione." He tried to smile but it was a horrid grimace that hurt her feelings. Just a little.

"I know you probably have a drawer full of them, but this one is special."

"I don't mean to be rude, but how?"

She laughed, "since when have you ever cared about being rude?"

"Have I ever been rude to you in private?"

"No."

"There you have it then. I have respect for you. Anyhow, how is this thing different?"

She turned the object so the light fell over the inscription she had made. "'Trust your instincts, my love.'"

"Hermione -"

She interrupted before he could start. "We're not discussing this again, I know. Just... I want you to be safe."

He kissed her. "Thank you."

That gift gave a high pitched shriek around most of the Slytherin's. He said that while he was alone he dropped it into a bag, but as he did so Nott had intruded. The thing remained silent.

"You protected me in Hogwarts, didn't you?"

He paused. "Because Draco asked me."

They both knew that she was aware of that. "You didn't have to."

"No, I didn't," he contested with venom. "You had plenty of people looking after you. Draco was too watchful. You were too smart. Too..." He changed course. "You didn't need us."

She smiled. "Obviously, I did. You took care of me. I can take care of myself, certainly, but I've had enough close calls to know that..." She didn't want to discuss her hideous mistakes. "I guess I'm grateful that you cared."

"Out of obligation."

She still smiled. "It doesn't matter." Obligation or not, there was a piece of Nott that did care. He could have told Malfoy no, he could have refused. If he was such a terrible person, he would have hurt her. He had plenty of chances. He could have sided with Goyle that day.

***

Nott and Hermione chose a table concealed in the darkest corner. It was also the grimiest, but the privacy was worth it. Nevertheless, when their drinks arrived she dampened her napkin from the perspiration that formed on the glass and began wiping the table.

Nott grinned, amused. "We have magic."

"The light will cast on our faces," she explained eying a huddled group of hags a few tables from them.

"I've always admired you."

"Why's that?"

"You take everything in such stride. Your friends,, responsibility, Draco, and now... This. You didn't have to do this, whatever Draco told you. This didn't have to be your fight."

She waded the napkin pushing it to the wall. "I owe a lot to Malfoy."

"For keeping you safe."

"For caring about me and not my blood."

Suddenly, he took her chin, the intimate contact shocking her as well as his timing. It was out of nowhere, but he didn't slow. He pulled her face to his, and nearly instantly she lost herself in the honey streaks of his eyes, the slight green circling his pupils. He had the oddest color of anyone she'd ever seen. She blinked furiously to clear her head.

"Hermione," he spoke carefully. "He did care about your blood. It mattered to him most because it was the reason he couldn't be with you. Don't doubt that he didn't love you. He risked everything for you, and he gave his life so another war could be prevented. Do not dishonor his memory by thinking he wasn't foolishly in love with you. He was."

Her bottom lip trembled, the words pouring out before she could stop them. She had to let him know for some obscure reason. "I just wished... I wish he knew I loved him too."

"He knew."

"How? I - I stopped calling him by his name." Curse her, she didn't think it.

"You don't have to speak his given name. He knew because you accepted the book."

"For our world..."

"You didn't turn him in. He was as smart. He knew."

The door of the pub opened and in stepped Hermione's two best friends. Nott let her go while - as directed in the letter - Harry and Ron came over to them, the darkest part of the room, and slid into the booth.

She shook her head, the fuzziness that was caused by being near Nott's lips. She placed her hands flat on the table, not caring that it was sticky, she had to hold on to something, to keep her mind straight. She couldn't allow Harry and Ron further suspicions about her and the Slytherins.

Harry started off the meeting. "We didn't catch Goyle. Took a while to get inside the house. What I don't understand is why you didn't stun him."

Nott leaned forward. "I've known Goyle for years. If we captured him we would never find out how to destroy the book."

"He knows how?"

"I think he could have an idea, but no amount of torturing is going to get the answer out of him."

"So what do we do," asked Ron. "Keep playing this game with him?"

"I have an idea," Hermione suggested. "Let me be the bait, I'll talk with him, see what I can learn."

"No," they all spat in unison.

"I'm perfectly capable -"

"No," Nott repeated. "You aren't doing it, end of discussion."

She glowered, but as their eyes met again, she understood. It was simple. He was continuing to keep his promise to Malfoy. He was upholding his dedication to protect her. She swallowed the lump that caught in her throat with difficulty.

Harry, in a much gentler tone, said, "there are other solutions."

"Like me," Ron piped up. "He needs lackey's, doesn't he? Pure-bloods. I'll pretend to have reformed."

Nott rolled his eyes. "A blood traitor reform? You could never pass that off."

"I could to!"

"Mature," he muttered. "You're Potter's friend, you fought in the war with him, you helped end the Dark Lord -"

"Stop calling him that!"

"You won't be able to pull it off."

"Then you do it! You were a Death Eater!"

"I just fought him. I won't do, none of us will. All I know is that Goyle will come back for the book, and he will go after Granger for revenge. She'll need protecting."

"I'll do it," Harry volunteered at once.

"You'll be too busy running leads. I - fortunately - live off of my inheritance. I'll look after her."

"Over my dead body you will," Ron argued.

Hermione hushed him, casting quick glances around, but no one seemed to have heard that outburst. None of the burly hags had stirred from their conversation.

"Imperturbable wall," Nott answered her actions. "I figured Weasley here couldn't be quiet."

"You want to watch her? Fine, but you'll have to make an Unbreakable Vow."

"Ron," she gasped, appalled. "That won't be necessary. Nott has proven himself loyal."

"You want to stay with a Death Eater?"

"Ex Death Eater. I trust him. I'm not a child, Ronald, I don't need a babysitter -"

"That isn't what this is about!"

Harry slammed his hand down, the sounding crash making them all jump. "Enough," he shouted. "It's decided. Hermione will stay with Nott, Ron you'll work with me tracking Goyle." He pointed a threatening finger at Nott, much like Hermione did earlier. "Be warned. I will be checking on her, and if I get my hints or any suspicion that you're hurting her, you'll wish you were with Malfoy."

Steadily, Nott nodded, undisturbed by the threats. "Point taken, Potter. She'll be safe. I swear."

Harry glared for a few seconds longer before lowering his hand. "We'll be by to see you to a safe place in the morning. We're staying next door for tonight. Unless, Hermione, you'd like to stay with us? I could sleep on the floor."

She would never know why she said what she did. "No, I'll stay in the room we have."

"I think it would be better if you stayed with us."

"And let a bed go to waste? Don't worry, Harry. I'll be fine."

He sighed and stood readying to leave but Ron hung behind appraising Nott thoughtfully.

"Why did you save her today? How did you know?"

Harry hesitated, listening curiously.

It was something that Hermione hadn't considered, not with all that happened. She trusted Nott without question. She placed her fate in his hands that day, and she didn't bat an eye to it.

"Coincidence. I had something to deliver to her, from Malfoy."

"That would be...?"

"None of your business."

"And the reason you saved her," Ron pressed, his face burning red diminishing the amount of visible freckles.

"I am reformed. I saw her in trouble through the window. Would you have preferred that I left her?"

They didn't answer, silently leaving in defeat. Hermione watched their hesitance until finally they turned and walked away. Not soon enough they were gone from view, up the staircase.

She twisted in her seat to face her new friend. "Is it true? Did you have something to give me from Malfoy?"

"Yes... But..." He leaned forward, nearly as close as they were before, and she fought to lean back. "You'll have to trust my story in how I came to have it. Can you trust me again?"

There wasn't a second thought, there never was. "Yes."

A/N: Thank you for all of your guesses! I got great joy out of them, very interesting.