Chapter 3: Greater Good
"Did you keep it from your friends?" Hermione asks, his gray eyes seem to get darker. "When you were assigned to kill Dumbledore," she pushes.
"Yes." The temperature in the compartment plummets.
"Well then I don't imagine I will have much problem doing the same." He lets out a humorless laugh.
"Please, Granger. They already know something is wrong."
"What?"
"You do not hide your emotions well. They already saw you crying. How exactly did you explain that anyways?" She looks down at her hands. "Exactly," Malfoy continues. "And this is as good as it's going to get. This assignment will weigh on you more every day."
"Like it did you," she says, looking at him once more.
"Yes, but worse because you are such goody-goody." His words sink in slowly, filtering through her mind.
"What do you suggest?" Only an idiot doesn't take good advice and, if he has any, well the brightest witch is not an idiot.
"For starters, you need to learn to hide your emotions and lie better."
"Wow, so descriptive. Got any other information?" She throw back his words from earlier. He smirks.
"Always so eager to learn," he muses. "Yes, I have more information, Granger. But we don't have a lot of time. The closer to the truth a lie is, the easier it is to sell. And stop feeling so guilty about it."
"What?" she snaps back.
"Oh come on, it's written all over your face and you haven't even lied to them yet. Bloody bleeding heart Gryffindors. This is for their own good as well as, you know, your life. So break away from those Gryffindor tendencies, who knows, maybe you'll like it Granger." Malfoy raises his eyebrows with his smirk. Bristling, she looks out the window.
"Anyways," she says, turning back.
"Yes, so lie well and hide that guilt if you can't stop it. Your emotions are too close to the surface. Even if I could teach you to hide them, the shift would be obvious, even to your idiots. So focus on something to distract you. You tend to like fact and useless information so throw yourself into something that will pull that part of you to the forefront. You've hid behind books well in the past, so just keep that up."
"I do not hide."
"Sure, Granger. I know you're a Gryffindor and all, but having some self preservation isn't a bad thing," he drawls. Hermione rolls her eyes.
"Anything else?"
"Actually-" The compartment door slides open revealing Harry. He looks back in forth.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry spits at him.
"What? Afraid for your Gryffindor princess? Or just afraid she might like a little more finesse in her life than you two bumbling dolts?" Harry looks ready to punch him.
"Malfoy," Hermione scolds.
"Oh keep your robes on, Potter. I was just educating Granger her about her role in the world," he sneers as he stands. "All yours, Potter. I mean, come on, we know you want to." He winks and walks out, leaving the witch with her mouth gaping open. Harry turns to her, pink tinting his cheeks.
"What was that about?" Harry asks.
"Hell if I know," Hermione replies, shaking her head.
"What was he talking to you about?"
"Oh you know Malfoy. Gryffindors are all bleeding hearts with no self preservation," she says and is impressed with herself, for spinning the truth. Harry nods.
"Let get back," he says, "I left Ron with the stuff I bought from the trolley lady." She casts him an amused glance and follows. Half way back to their compartment, Malfoy slips out of another compartment and right into Hermione.
"Merlin, Granger! Watch where you're going," he shouts at her before pushing her out of his way. She glances at her hand, where her wand, a piece of parchment, and a glass vial was placed as Malfoy forced his way past. 'Sneaky ferret,' she thinks.
"He needs to get over himself," Harry rants. "Are you okay?" He turns to her as she quickly pocket the items.
"Yeah, I'm good. Let's get back. I'm sure there will be nothing left if we don't hurry," she laughs.
Once safe in their own compartment, the trio snacks on the treats Ron had yet to devour. After a single chocolate frog, turned her stomach, Hermione pulls a large tome into her lap and opens it. Harry and Ron start going on about some quidditch thing. Neither see her slip the parchment out of her pocket and over one of the pages.
"We need to talk again soon," it reads in Malfoy's neat script. "I'll send a message with when and where. Until then, try to be more Slytherin. PS-The potion is for the bruise. Bloody elf."
She was sure he add the bit about the elf just to rile her up. Picking up the vial, she examines it. The color seems accurate for a potion or two that she knows would help heal. It could also be right for one of the more nasty poisons. Uncorking the vial, she sniff at it, definately not the poison. 'Here goes nothing,' she think as she down the contents behind her book.
Warmth spreads over her stomach instantly. It is comforting in a strange way. As the heat fades, so does the constant ache that she didn't realize was there until it had left. Hermione releases a sigh and begin actually reading the book.
The meal appears before the students, once the sorting is completed. Harry continues to glance at Hermione with concern. She does her best to ignore it, but finally turns toward him.
"Harry, is there something you'd like to say?" she says.
"You just seem off. Sad or something? Did something happen with your parents? Did you get in a fight?" he replies. Oh Merlin. What could she say? There was no way to start the tale, and yet not explain everything, and she couldn't explain-because of her vow.
"No, I'm sorry. Just been thinking about...this starts our NEWT studying and it's such a big thing and…" she trails off.
"Hermione," he smiles, "you have nothing to worry about. You're bloody brilliant." She smiles at his confidence and tries to ignore the sinking feeling. With guilt bubbling in her stomach and stealing her appetite, she spends the rest of the meal pushing food around her plate.
Hermione is exhausted when they finally rise to head to the dorms. Halfway to the tower and she's dreaming of laying down in an actual bed. It takes a couple of seconds for her to even notice the hand on her arm, tugging her away from the group.
"Professor McGonagall?" she asks.
"The headmaster would like a word," she says. It's the only thing she says until they are in front of the gargoyle. The site makes the young witch's mostly empty stomach turn and her breath catch.
"Lemony Gummy Drop Goodness," the professor says to the gargoyle with the roll of her eyes. Stone scraping on stone echos from Hermione's memories. "The headmaster is up there." She motions for the girl to go on. Once more she is in the headmaster's office. It looks different and the same.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore greets from behind his desk. "Please, have a seat. Lemon drop?"
"No, thank you."
"I was very happy to see you at the feast today. Though I wish the situation of your release was better," he says.
"You...you know?" she stammers. He smiles sadly.
"Yes, I know you were taken and then Voldemort forced you to take an unbreakable vow to kill me." She looks down at her fidgeting fingers in her lap. "I thought it was quite out of character for you to make such a vow, at least without some prior knowledge. That reminds me, have you seen the time turner that was in my cabinet?" Her eyes snap to his twinkling ones.
"Headmaster...I…" sobs escape her lips, clouding her thoughts. He nods sagely.
"I understand," he says softly. "I am so sorry, Miss Granger. I wish there had been another way then for you to pay such a great price."
"They killed my parents," she whispered.
"I know."
"But what choice did I have? I had to come back! Everyone was gone...dead and…"
"It's ok, I do not blame you for your choice and I don't think you should blame you either. What's done is done." The student nods. "There is something else, I am sure you are aware that neither Mr. Potter nor Mr. Weasley seem to know of your situation. That would be of my doing. It saddened me greatly when I intercepted the letter to Mr. Potter regarding your abduction. I'm sure you could easily predict what his response to that would be."
"He would come for me."
"Yes," he replied. "I gathered information, but even with a full scale assault, I don't believe we would have been able to retrieve you alive. I know Mr Potter told you of the prophecy. The ambush would have been beyond his skills and he would have met his end. I...when a man comes to the end of his life, things change, become more clear. It is easy to see where I have fallen short and I apologize for that and the pain it has caused you."
"I was glad Harry didn't come. I didn't want to watch them die again," she says. He nods sadly.
"In your original timeline, I assume I did, which is why you made the deal, correct?"
"Yes...well I knew you would be in this timeline as well when he came in to question me about the ring you destroyed. It has made you sick, has it not?" Worry crept into her tone.
"Yes," he said sadly. "I will be spending this last year passing on all the knowledge I have to Mr. Potter. But it appears that will not be enough, as you had to come back. It is dangerous telling about the future. Even prophecies are not fully understood till after their fulfillment. I would suggest not telling a soul about it, or at least I would normally. With the circumstances as they are now, I would ask that you tell me of the events, that we might find a way to make a better future."
"What about Harry and Ron?"
"Too much information divulged will change the future and make the information you have useless. Also, I think Mr Potter and Weasley will be handling quite enough this year without that too."
"That would mean not telling them about my capture either…"
"You are of course right, Miss Granger. Though perhaps it is a bit selfish for me to request such a thing," Dumbledore says.
"It's for the best. The greater good. Hell, they can hate me for the rest of my life as long as they live and we win this war," she says softly.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I think this has been quite enough for one night. We will meet again to work out a plan."
Hermione nods and stands, barely enough energy for that. Down the stairs, down the hall, more stairs, another hall, she continues to put one foot in front of the other. So much to think about, so tired. She struggles to keep her eyes open. There is black on the edge of her vision. Just have to get to the tower, to her room, to her bed. The black creeps closer and then takes over completely.
"Granger?" she hear someone say as she begins to fall, but before she can land, there is nothing.