Because the kids are sick and I will be away from writing for about three weeks, I decided to post this sooner. Enjoy!
Draco and Hermione were in the potions classroom working on the last stretch of the potion. Despite Hermione's eagerness to finish, the last two nights had been grueling. The final three days required working under the influence of a full moon, and two days ago, the waxing gibbous coated the whole room into a layer of ice.
The cold was unbearable; frost covered the windows, and the blankets they had conjured felt stiff and inadequate against the pervasive chill that seemed to penetrate their very bones. It made it difficult for them to focus, and the Bluebell Flame they had conjured for warmth barely made a dent in the frigid atmosphere that clung to the dungeon walls.
Despite their best efforts, the warming spells and the small flame were no longer enough. Hermione huddled by the cauldron's fire while Draco sat on the floor behind her, wrapped in his blanket and looking utterly miserable.
"How much longer do we have to endure this torture?" Draco's breath crystallized into tiny clouds as he spoke. It had only been two hours, but it felt like an eternity.
"Another hour until we add the moonstone powder, and then another for intermittent stirring," Hermione replied, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.
"This is barbaric." He rewrapped his blanket around him before adding. "What if we huddle together and use our body heat?" Hermione raised her eyebrow at his suggestion.
Draco shrugged. "It's either that or f-freeze to death. Come on, Granger. I don't want to die in this room."
They ended up sitting next to each other as he draped his blanket over her. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and he laid his head on hers as they awkwardly held hands under the layer of warmth. It was an uncomfortable arrangement, but it was the only way they could stave off the chill.
Hermione silently counted the minutes as she didn't want her mind to wander. As intimate as their current position was, Hermione didn't want to indulge those thoughts. There had been countless times she had returned from working with Draco, more recently as of late, and her mind was in turmoil. Ever since he had met her in the Astronomy Tower to give her The Alchemist Cauldron, her heart skipped a beat in his presence.
She had stood, staring at him from across the room while they worked, trying to resist the urge to give in to her feelings. She knew deep down that they would never work, them being from different worlds, and the consequences of being together could be catastrophic.
At least, that's the lie she kept telling herself.
But despite her best efforts, she found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He had a hold on her that she couldn't break, and every time she tried to squash her feelings, she found herself drawn back to him, and it wasn't just from meeting for the potion.
Her mind was consumed with thoughts of him ever since he had dropped his defense around her, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She knew it was a mistake, that she was not someone he could bring home nor be seen within the school halls. The walls had eyes and more followers of Voldemort than ever before, and she knew he would never risk being seen with someone like her. But try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that he also had feelings for her.
It was a lost endeavor, a hopeless dream that brought her to tears more than once. Lying awake in her dorm room, thinking of him, of what they could be if it weren't for the war. But she knew that chance would never come, and she doubted Draco reciprocated her feelings.
As the days went by, she found herself becoming more and more attached to him. She knew that it was a mistake, that she was setting herself up for heartbreak, but she couldn't help it. She was in too deep, and there was no turning back.
She was falling for him.
Who was she kidding? She was way past falling.
Silent minutes had passed until their shivers lessened, and her body was warming up. She noted that Draco was also getting more comfortable, but neither had taken the first step to unlock their intertwined fingers. She thought he had fallen asleep as his head became heavier and his breathing slowed – until he started rubbing his thumb against hers.
"I'm betraying everything I've ever believed in." He cleared his throat. "Everything my family has taught me to hate has this way of surprising me. I know that we come from different worlds, but I've been taught to hate you. But…the truth is I don't want to be a part of that anymore."
He was trying to maintain self-control as he clung to her hand more tightly, lifting his head from hers and finding her eyes. Hermione looked at him for another long moment, her eyes searching his face. Finally, she squeezed his hand in reassurance.
"I believe you," she said softly.
And then, without another word, they dipped their heads and kissed, their lips meeting gently at first, then with more urgency as their desire for each other took over. It was a kiss like no other, their tongues battled, and their bodies gravitated into each other, with an overwhelming rush of emotions. A warmth crept over her, and it pooled below her belly making her crave more. She wondered –
A loud beeping sound shattered the silence. Draco pulled away from the kiss, his eyes scanning the room as he tried to locate the source of the noise.
"What's that," he asked in confusion.
"It's the alarm," Hermione replied, her voice laced with frustration at its timing.
She moved quickly towards the source of the sound, fumbling with the buttons of a Muggle device until she managed to turn it off. As the beeping ceased, she turned back to Draco, a bit flustered.
"I'm sorry," she said barely above a whisper.
They had been working for hours, and now as they stood side by side, stirring the bubbling mixture in the cauldron, he turned to her, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey, don't be. It was perfect. You are perfect," he said, kissing her again.
She felt her cheeks flush with warmth as she melted into his embrace, savoring the taste of his lips against hers. They continued working, but a different energy crackled throughout the room, a palpable electricity that left her feeling alive and exhilarated.
Grateful for the Vow of Secrecy that reminded her with tingling around her wrist whenever she came close to revealing something she shouldn't, she knew that this encounter would remain between them. They shared a secret, a moment that would be theirs alone.
She went to bed smiling that night.
Her anticipation rose when they met for the third and final night.
This evening the potion emitted high humidity, filling the room with steam as the waning moon shone through the open windows. Despite the moonlight, the room remained hot and stuffy, making it difficult for Hermione to concentrate on the task. She longed to transfigure a desk into a fan, but the thought of ruining the potion so close to completion held her back.
As she dropped one of the last ingredients into the cauldron, Hermione's hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat. Draco stood beside her, following her instructions as he stirred the mixture. Despite the sweltering heat, Hermione found it hard to keep her eyes off Draco's delicate features, blushing every time their skin brushed while measuring ingredients or moving around the cramped workspace.
Since their kiss two nights ago, Hermione had become acutely aware of Draco's presence, her heart skipping a beat every time their bodies accidentally touched. She tried to push her feelings aside and focus on the assignment, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The way Draco looked at her and touched her made her heart race with a mixture of excitement.
"No, I don't think that's right," Hermione mumbled. She had been cutting up the screechsnap roots but was uncertain of the required width of her cut as her sweaty palm slipped on her knife. "Could you cast another cooling charm?"
Draco complied with Hermione's request, throwing out her mistake and she resumed cutting. As the humidity in the room continued to rise, both of their tempers grew short. Hermione was already down to her uniform shirt and skirt, even securing her hair with her wand, anything to stay cool. Draco also felt uncomfortable, his shirt sticking to his toned chest, which Hermione had pointedly ignored since they entered the classroom. Even their cooling charms seemed to fluctuate with the room's temperature.
"I'm doing my best, but this heat makes it hard to think and grasp things properly. And you aren't helping," Hermione said, trying to keep her frustration in check.
Draco groaned impatiently but then fell silent. They both held their breath as Hermione dropped her cuts into the cauldron, and Draco stirred. After a few tense seconds, the potion emitted a red smoke, indicating that it was finished.
A stone fell from her heart. Hermione let out a whoop of joy, relieved that the potion was a success and could help the werewolf community. In her excitement, she moved closer to Draco, and her lips accidentally brushed against his cheek in celebration. She felt a rush of heat in her cheeks at her uncalculated move, realizing they had yet to speak about their kiss two days ago.
Feeling flustered, Hermione tried to move away from Draco, but he grabbed her and pulled her closer. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her passionately. Hermione tasted the tang of mint on his lips and couldn't help but respond to his kiss. He pushed her against the table, deepening the kiss, and Hermione felt herself getting lost in the moment.
"Hermione," he whispered. But it wasn't just her name in that single word. "Tell me not to. Tell me to stop."
It was simple. A warning of what was to come if they continued. But she didn't want him to end it. She wanted to be near him, to know him, and to be a part of his world—even the dangerous side.
Her nod of disagreement was almost nonexistent as she pulled his lips down to hers. Draco growled in response, pushing his body closer to her, and his animalistic sound sent Hermione into overdrive. The thought of him having practiced in this area was confirmed as he expertly yanked his shirt off while still lip-locked with her. With an expert swoop, he wrapped his arms around her middle and dropped her on the table, rattling the devices on it.
"You make me crazy, Hermione." He pants through strangled breaths as she fists her hands in his hair.
His palms eagerly squeeze the front of her thighs as he inches up under her skirt. His hips roll again, making her arch her head back with an inviting moan. He takes full advantage of the soft skin on her neck, tasting her.
She didn't know how she lasted so long without this.
He pulls her blouse down her shoulders, exposing her bra to him, running a hand over the imprint of a nipple. His touch sent electricity throughout her.
Her hands dropped to his belt, and an exhale of hot breath flew across her skin. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed her clit, leaning into him and quickly unbuttoning his trousers. His tongue tangled with hers as her fingers dipped into his underwear and wrapped around him. His finger was moving expertly against her nub, emitting a moan from her.
Her breath hitched. Her thighs started to quiver. She was close.
"That's it, Hermione." He purred into her ear as she scratched her fingernails into the tabletop, desperate to cling to something. And then her dam released with a scream, clamping down on his fingers.
Her eyes fluttered open, and he stared down at her, his pupils blown wide. She licked her lips, and he followed the movement. She nodded, answering his unspoken question. He pushed down his trousers and slowly pushed against her entrance.
She whimpered at the sharp bite of pain but held tightly to him until he was fully inside of her. She wiggled a little, attempting to suppress the feeling of fullness while Draco held still, joining her movements only until Hermione began rocking her hips against him. He kept the same gentle pace until Hermione felt the need for more.
"Draco, I need…." Her words died as he started nipping on her neck. Leaving marks. Her heels dug into the back of his thighs. Draco seemed to understand her movement and brought a hand between them and rubbed her clit firmly, his thumb sliding in her wetness as his hips pumped faster, hitting something that made her liquefy.
Her eyelids fluttered as she called his name.
When her walls constricted and pulsed around him, he buried himself deep within her and groaned through gritted teeth as he came. Their movements slowed as they came down from the crest of their orgasms, and Hermione's legs loosened their tight hold around him.
They stood in silence for a while, still holding onto each other. Hermione's mind was racing with thoughts and emotions, and she didn't know how to express them to Draco. She started to say something but trailed off, feeling guilt and shame on her shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to tell him he was her first, not when it felt like they were only together because of circumstance and convenience—the unexpected moment of intimacy had left her feeling conflicted and unsure of what to do next.
Draco noticed the change in her demeanor and leaned back to look at her. He could see the worry and sadness in her eyes, and he knew something was bothering her. He waved his wand and cast a cooling and cleansing charm, but even with the charm, a thin layer of sweat remained on their skin.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.
Hermione forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She tried to hide her discomfort by buttoning up her shirt, unable to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest.
Draco noticed her distress and took her face in his hands, her innocence lightly stained on his fingers, gently turning her to face him. "Don't," he warned softly. "Whatever is going through your head, I don't care. You're perfect to me, always have been, and Granger I wouldn't change a damn thing."
Though sore, Hermione had been in a jolly mood all morning and couldn't wait to show Snape the "unbrewable" potion. She hadn't spoken with Draco all day, seeing him only in between classes, and when they crossed paths, he was absorbed in something Theo was telling him. They briefly slid their hands against each other as they made their way to their respective class. Giving her a concealed squeeze, with reassurance that he was still thinking of her, making her heart flutter.
After dinner, they were to meet in the Potions classroom. It was there that the Professor's unbelievable words rang through the room. "Congratulations to you both. You both fail." Snape said after he tested the potion.
"Fail? P-Professor Snape? I beg your pardon but we succeeded. " Hermione stuttered in disbelief. When Hermione was assigned the project that she knew would be difficult, she dove into it headfirst. She spent countless hours researching and preparing, ensuring she had all the facts and figures needed to finish it. She couldn't believe what she heard, looking desperately at Draco for help, but he just leaned against a desk with his arms crossed, avoiding her glare.
"You are correct in that the potion appears to have been successfully brewed," Snape conceded. "However, the project was not about the potion's efficacy but rather about the process of attempting the impossible. You were meant to learn from the experience, not necessarily to produce a viable product."
Hermione's head snapped from Snape to Draco, who raised a single eyebrow, silently indicating that he had already suspected this outcome. She felt thrown off balance and frustrated by Draco's lack of input and Snape's words.
"What do you mean to learn from it? Professor, we did attempt the impossible," she argued. "Shouldn't that count for something? There's your bloody proof right there!" Hermione knew she was being childish, but she couldn't help but feel upset. "This could cure thousands. Why assign the project if the results would be ignored?"
"Miss Granger, I'd advise you not to use that language in my classroom." Snape's warning did not affect her anger. She groaned her disapproval toward the row of potion ingredients lined on the wall.
As Snape lazily pointed toward the vial on his desk, he spoke dismissively, "This potion will be destroyed, and the Ministry will be informed of your…results."
Just then, the door to the classroom burst open, and in came Filch, eyeing the occupants with suspicion. "Apologies Professor, but there's about to be a duel in the hall. I'm ain't too fond of cleanin' bloodshed off the floors this late at night."
Snape stood and warned the two before leaving, "Head back to your dormitories before even more disappointment comes your way. This conversation is finished."
Hermione and Draco remained motionless in the room despite Snape's command. Hermione was trying to shake off her frustration as she held her head in her hands. She couldn't believe that their potion, which she had put so much effort into, was considered a failure.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione demanded, advancing towards Draco.
"You heard the Professor. Just because you don't like what he's telling you, Granger doesn't mean everyone has to." Draco replied cooly.
Hermione's frustration mounted at his nonchalant response. "But we did it, Draco! We succeeded where others have failed. This potion could save lives!"
"You just don't understand the real issue at play here. You're too focused on surface-level problems to see the bigger picture."
"How can you be so naïve? I know some would love to be able to rid of that burden."
Draco shrugged. "It's not that simple."
Hermione glared at him. "Why are you being so difficult? How do you know it wouldn't work?"
Draco crossed his arms. "And how do you know it would?"
Hermione's voice rose in anger. "All the ingredients work together perfectly. Like hellebore, a soothing herb, and the Manticore's brain jelly to aid in neurologic healing. And despite their high price and rarity, we managed to gather them all and brew them under the full moon. It's the most detailed and aligned ingredient list ever created!"
"Alright, let's say you give it to someone you know – I'm assuming you meant Lupin, and he gets healed. All perfectly back into human form, what about his rehabilitation? No – don't look at me like that because you know that's what he will need. He will always have that beastly violence dormant and longing to get out. And when will that be? The full moon? He won't be on a schedule anymore, but I can guarantee it will always be there, and it doesn't matter what fucking potion you give them. Especially one from two amateur students."
"It's not a big deal. The Ministry's program will help…." Her rebuttal sounded weak.
"No? The Ministry's program just shut this whole thing down." He roughly dragged his hand through his hair. "Alright, let's change victims, then. Are you willing to offer this potion just as easily to Lupin as you are Greyback? I heard he loves hunting in mudblood territory nowadays. Would you invite him for afternoon tea with your parents during a full moon? You leave him alone for two seconds, and he'd devour them. You can't domesticate a werewolf, Hermione."
She could feel Draco's eyes on her, and she knew he could see the hurt in her eyes just as she could see the doubt and anxiety in his. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue. Or do old habits die hard? Whoever this Draco was, it wasn't the one she had shared an intimate moment with. He would never call her that foul name. She tried to bring back the encounter from this morning as he secretly reached for her hand, which meant the world to her at that moment, but now it made her skin prickle.
"I see the same applies to a slimy snake as well. I should never have trusted you," Hermione retorted, grabbing the vial hidden in her robes and left through the dungeon door with a bang.
That was the last time they spoke before the term ended. With no need to be partners in any of their classes, there was no reason for them to be civil to each other. Draco never apologized, and Hermione made sure he knew how she felt about his words. The relationship that they had formed during their time together evaporated like steam in the air.
It stung.
Hermione threw herself into Dumbledore's Army, pouring her frustration and anger into her wand as she practiced her spells with more force and precision than ever before. Despite meeting only on sporadic nights, the group made the best of it until Umbridge began questioning students about secret clubs. Hermione grew more and more anxious, especially with the recent changes in Draco's character and the breakout from Azkaban. Her emotions boiled over during a dueling match with Neville when she inadvertently set his shoes on fire. The interrogations stopped for several weeks, but Marietta Edgecombe eventually betrayed them to save her mother's job. This led to the group's disbandment and the replacement of Professor Dumbledore as headmaster with Umbridge.
Hermione was furious at the Ministry's control over Hogwarts and the loss of her outlet to vent her frustrations. To make matters worse, she discovered Draco was leading the Inquisitorial Squad, which went against everything Dumbledore had told them. His continued rebellious behavior, including bullying and unwarranted point deductions, eventually led to the Room of Requirement being uncovered.
Hermione found solace in her studies as she struggled to come to terms with the recent events. The O.W.L exams were fast approaching, and she put all her energy into preparing for them. There, Harry, despite his Occlumency lessons, had a vision of Sirius being held captive and tortured by Voldemort, causing panic among them. Desperate to find a way to help, they decided to use the only nonmonitored Floo network in Umbridge's office but were caught by the Inquisitorial Squad.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were inside as Neville, Luna, and Ginny were standing watch outside. Their attempt was in vain as Umbridge thwarted their plan. Harry was forcefully thrown into a chair by the new headmistress while Neville, Luna, Ron, and Ginny were all held at wand point by a member of the Squad, and unfortunately, Draco held Hermione. The proximity overwhelmed her with mixed emotions, as she hadn't been this close to him since five months ago.
His hot breath on her ear, mixed with her adrenaline, sent her into overdrive, but the words he spoke to her made her blood run cold. "Danger. Ministry. Don't go." It was a flutter. A breath in the wind but clear as day, and she had no way of answering. The ramping beat of her heart was accelerated with Umbridge threatening to use an Unforgiveable on Harry. She had to do something!
Despite the fear and uncertainty, Hermione took charge, leading Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest and using Umbridge's greed and the Ministry's paranoia to her advantage to eliminate the threat. But even with Umbridge out of the way, Draco's warning still lingered in her mind.
Knowing there was nothing she could say to stop Harry from saving Sirius, the group flew the Thestrals all the way to London.
Amongst the rush of people moving around the tent, she stood unnoticeable at the entrance, next to a wooden pillar, watching the scramble before her. Whatever was happening, it was momentous.
A blue sheen appeared before the group. The light started to take shape, and a highland cow appeared. Stalna's voice rang out. "Sir, we were ambush'd by enemy forces. We have several wounded and two confirmed casualties."
He was running his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with Stalna's message, and gave orders to a man that stood to his left. He looked thinner than the last time they had been together, there were a few more lines etched into his face, but he still had that fierce look in his eyes that she always admired. Harry watched him leave, briefly glancing at Hermione and back down at the table. With one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth, he seemed to be having an internal struggle. And then he turned back to the group.
"All right, everyone, listen up! We're about to head back out there, and I need everyone to be focused and alert. Remember, there are five we are looking for. Our mission is to capture – not kill the werewolves that live there." Unchangeables. He pointed to something on the table, possibly a map. "To do that, we'll need to move quickly and efficiently. Also, remember that no one can apparate in or out unless you activate your emblem. So triple check it's attached to your person.
First, Alpha squad will move forward and take out any werewolves in the area. Bravo squad will provide cover fire from behind. Once Alpha squad has secured the perimeter, we'll send in Charlie squad to clear out any remaining behind. Remember, this is a highly dangerous mission, and we can't afford any more mistakes. Stay sharp and stay together. Keep your eyes open for any unusual movements, they will smell you before they see you.
Lupin will be leading the charge with Delta squad. He'll be right behind you, so keep him informed of any changes in the situation. And most importantly, watch each other's backs. We're a team, and we'll get through this together. Any questions? Move out!"
A unified hum engulfed the group a beat later, making the air around them crackle with energy. They huddled together and raised their wands, forming a glowing red ball that exploded after reaching a Quaffle size and strengthening magic over them. They staggered back, their wands glowing with residual energy as Hermione felt the pulse across the room, making her shiver at the power.
Harry was watching the groups leave as he cast another glance at her. This time he became aware of her presence. "You there, why aren't you with your squad?"
Hermione had prepared her whole speech only to have it flutter out of her grasp. What if Harry and she had grown apart too much? What if they didn't have anything in common anymore? What had he been doing all these years? She stepped forward into the light. "I'm not here on Ministry's orders."
He visibly paled.
Her questions were lost as Harry propelled himself forward, it had been four years since they last saw each other, and his bear hug was all she needed to feel at that moment. It felt like home.
"Hermione…?" He took a look at her before hugging her again. "Are you alone?" He shot a glance behind her.
"I could ask you the same thing. Werewolves and with Remus?"
"Yes, funny how the tables turn, eh? Is everything alright? I mean, you aren't in danger, are you?"
Yes, funny... "No, no. It's nothing like that. Bad timing is all."
"You aren't hurt?" He gave her another once over as if expecting to find an injury. As she shook her head, he gave her a look of 'you better not be lying to me.'
"I promise, Harry. I had someone escort me here as I couldn't apparate out myself. Like I said, bad timing." Hermione reassured.
After a beat, he nodded. "Are you thirsty? I have water and this – Mulled wine, it's a Russian specialty. Unfortunately, dinner has passed, or I'd offer something to eat."
Hermione graciously accepted the wine. The warm liquid flowed down her throat, spreading a comforting warmth throughout her body. The spices - cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves - danced on her tongue, mingling with the rich, full-bodied wine. It took the edge off the attack back in the snow.
She and Harry sat piecing together the last four years. He knew of the potion that Draco and Hermione brewed. The one she pocketed and secretly told Remus about after extensive and limited research in a six page letter accompanying every possible scenario that could go wrong. Hermione knew they were safe, though as she had meticulously recorded every variable during brewing: the temperature, the color of the smoke, the rate of the swirl it emitted, and even down to the direction of the swirl.
At Grimmauld Place, it wasn't until the summer break that the trio finally sat down together, and Hermione physically handed Remus the potion. As the full moon approached, he retreated to the basement and remained locked in for the next three days. Hermione and Tonks kept him company, listening to his excruciating howls from below. They took turns to watch over him when the noise became too unbearable.
Hermione spent most of her time reading and exercising to distract herself from Remus' pain. As the second morning drew to a close, the ferocious howling gave way to a softer, more subdued sound. Hermione and Tonks camped closer to his room, hoping for the best. After three days had passed, Remus emerged from the basement with the witches' wands raised. He was no longer a werewolf but had successfully transitioned back to being human.
Although the process was twice as painful as his body detoxed and adjusted to the foreign entity, he resumed his monthly quarantine, knowing that it was necessary to regain his humanity.
Though he still had more of a knack for red meat and a few lasting scars, everything else was as if it never was after three months. Exposing his case at the Wizengamot was not an option without getting Hermione and Professor Snape in trouble. Hermione took the potion, and Severus reported back to the Ministry that it had failed and had since been disposed of. So, Remus chose to write to the Professor instead, telling him of its success. He was furious, but with Hermione's painstaking note taking, they could reproduce it and apply it on the wounded today.
However, not everyone came away unscathed. The news travelled to Wiltshire, and with it, an angry father that promised punishment for not upholding the Malfoy name, for he was entirely capable of forgetting entire branches off his family tree.
Hermione updated Harry on Draco's condition, leaving out the mind connection and Lucius' passing, as much as it pained her to say that she blamed it on the aftereffects of Dark Magic, just as the Daily Prophet had. Continuous strains of curses and the forbidden arts ate at his body and mind resulting in the end of Lucius Malfoy. The news reached as far as Russia, and Harry extended his condolences; he had known of their work together to find a cure.
It pained her, tears prickling in her eyes. It hurt her even more that she couldn't tell Harry the truth. She wasn't ready to tell him the truth.
As for her friend, Harry and Ginny had made themselves quite at home. He hunted Unchangeables with the Russian locals and the British Ministry of Magic.
On the other hand, Ginny Weasley had always been a force to be reckoned with. Ginny inherited the Weasley family's love of flying and had a talent for the sport beyond mere enthusiasm. She was fast, agile, and had a keen eye for the snitch, and as she grew older, Ginny found herself drawn to a particular field - Quidditch.
By the time she graduated from Hogwarts, Ginny was one of the best Quidditch players in her year, with scouts from professional teams clamoring for her attention. In the end, Ginny landed a spot on the Moldovan Gargoyles, one of the most prestigious Quidditch teams in the wizarding world. For her, Quidditch was more than just a dream job - it was a way of life and Harry supported her.
"Playing for the Gargoyles has been a wish come true, and I know she wouldn't have it any other way." Hermione admired Harry's support for his wife. She knew it couldn't be easy as she was away most of the time, as was he, and they had always spoken about starting a family.
But they never did.
During their conversation, Remus had returned with word that the mission was a success, and the troops returned to camp. With Remus' leadership, he filled in Harry with the details and ensured the wounded were aided. He brightened as soon as he saw her - the strength of his hug almost knocking the wind out of her.
"There's a face that will always brighten my day! What are you doing in Russia?"
Hermione blushed. "Just a little side project. Nothing major. I don't mean to rush our reunion, but I do have to get back to it. Being as there is a deadline."
"Always the overachiever." Remus winked at her teasingly.
"You ain't leaving, Mione'." Harry's words cut through Remus'.
"I'll be fine. I have a room back at The Black Labyrinth, don't worry. I won't be taking any shortcuts. The wards have been lifted, I'm assuming? Considering everyone is accounted for?" Her gaze bounced between the two men for an answer. Though appreciative of his big brother concern, Draco's countdown ticked in the back of her mind.
Remus nodded in the affirmative and nudged Harry. "I think Hermione's grown enough to know what she's doing and has her own reasons for being here. She'll tell us if there's something she can't handle. Besides, Ginny and Tonks will be back in town tomorrow, and a Weasley homecooked meal is something no one can miss."
"Harry, I have never given you a reason to doubt me. I'll be safe. Like I said, it was just the wrong place and the wrong time. Seeing everyone would be a delight, thank you, Remus. You can even pick me up, and we'll arrive together, and I can tell you more about it."
That idea seemed to relax him a bit, and he reluctantly settled on a time to pick her up. Granted, with the mission's success, the camp would be torn down and packed up by morning, and they all agreed they needed some well deserved rest.
"Thanks, Harry." She embraced them one more time and gave Harry a peck on the cheek before leaving the tent to the apparition point. Swallowing one more tonic before she apparated back to her hotel room.
Despite her charmed boots, her feet remained cold as she made her way to her room, grateful for the relative warmth. She quickly lit a fire in the grate, filling the room with the unmistakable scent of woodsmoke. Shedding her coat onto the back of a chair, she readied a bath and slowly undressed, examining the fresh gash on her calf that still seeped blood, angry and raw.
Although a mediwizard had healed most of it, the wound throbbed with a sharp, stabbing pain that radiated outwards. Before slipping into the tub, she retrieved a vial of dittany to prevent it from festering and hung her leg over the clawfoot tub's side. Hermione's fingers hovered over the wound, trembling to prevent herself from touching it, but she knew she had to clean it.
Frustration consumed her as she neared the end of her quest, knowing Draco's days were numbered. Yet, burying herself in endless research led to more dead ends than she had hoped. Despite her attempts to find answers, she couldn't help but take it personally. Her thoughts kept returning to the cabin in the woods. Was it really the elf who lived there? What answers did he hold?
She regulated her breathing, counting at a steady rhythm while tapping her fingers on the tub's edge in an irregular rhythm, trying to push the jumble of thoughts aside and focus on her bookshelf.
Replaying the cabin's layout in her mind, she recalled every detail around her. It was cluttered and cozy. Jars and bottles were all around, some labeled with familiar descriptions while others were written in a language she couldn't decipher. The plants above the fire were common herbs found in any glacial environment - lavender, horehound, milkweed.
It was another dead end.
As they cautiously made their way through the dimly lit corridors, tension mounting with every step, Hermione could feel the dark magic prickling her skin. Though she trusted Harry, he allowed Voldemort in his mind, leading them straight into a Death Eater ambush. The Department of Mysteries was a twisted, nightmarish labyrinth that seemed to twist and turn endlessly. Harry had grown anxious after it took longer than he imagined to find the location where Sirius was being held captive, as his vision had shown.
Instead of Sirius , a wand drawn Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange had blocked their path.
The two before them were a formidable foe, skilled in the dark arts and relentless in the pursuit of power and the prophecy that rested in Harry's grasp. They moved with deadly efficiency, calling upon more Death Eaters as their black robes billowed behind them – appearing in a mist of black smoke. Casting spells and unleashing curses with reckless abandon.
At first, they were able to hold their ground as their shields and barriers held the Death Eaters off. Hermione tried to locate an exit and simultaneously cursed whoever came too close. Neville took charge, fighting off two Death Eaters with a Reductor after Luna was hit by a curse resulting in a limp that slowed the group down. Ron didn't waste a moment. He took her arm and pulled her along, urging the rest of the group through a door at the end of the hall.
They took a moment to catch their breath before ensuring no Death Eaters followed them into the room. But then flying black smoke apparitions took shape throughout the space, capturing everyone but Harry at wandpoint.
"Hello, sweetness." Her pulse pounded against her chest as her captor's sickly sweet tone unnerved her. It intensified as he started snaking his hand up her jumper. He held her closer to his chest, preventing her from wiggling out of his grasp. The group watched as Lucius materialized out of the shadows, Harry still holding the prophecy, determined not to give in to Lucius' threats if he didn't do as he requested.
Harry held out as long as he could, refusing to give into the pressure of Lucius' words until the mention of his friends' deaths. Bellatrix's cackling echoed throughout the room, joined by the other Death Eaters' mocking laughter at Harry's apparent weakness.
"The Dark Lord is going to kill your friends, and I want you to watch." Dolohov sneered. Hermione's heart pounded with fear as Dolohov's wand dug deeper into her side, causing a sharp pain that made it hard to concentrate. He grabbed her hair, holding her in place as she whimpered in terror, tears streaming down her face. Despair washed over her as she watched Harry hand the prophecy to Lucius atop the raised stone dais.
They had failed.
The room was suddenly filled with chaos as the Order of the Phoenix apparated in, unleashing a flurry of spells. Dolohov, the experienced wizard he was, favored dark hexes, but Hermione deftly deflected them during their duel. Despite her quick defense, Dolohov's more aggressive attacks left her cornered against a wall, prompting her to strike back with a silencing spell and a stunning charm.
She left Dolohov unconscious on the floor and rushed to Ron's aid as he was engaged in a heated battle with Rowle. But in the fray of lights, she unwittingly intercepted the path of a jolting spell, sending her hurtling across the room. Although she cushioned her landing spell, the pain in her hip was still excruciating.
As she scrambled to her feet, Hermione scanned the room for the closest opponent, only to lock eyes with Draco Malfoy, swathed in Death Eater robes. Horror seized her as she saw Malfoy raise his wand behind Harry's head, poised to strike. Time seemed to slow as she desperately tried to intervene, her voice hoarse as she screamed his name, but before she could act, a curse struck her, and her world went dark.
Towel-drying her hair in the bedroom, she was startled when the fireplace sputtered, and a letter flew into the room, landing squarely in her hand. Breaking the seal with a quick flick of her fingernail, she saw it was from Colin.
As she read through the letter, Colin's message only added to her confusion. Apparently, all of the photographs displayed at the art gallery had been distributed to the people Colin had photographed, including herself and Draco. What was particularly puzzling was that Draco had written to Colin, thanking him for the pictures and even offering compensation, which Colin graciously declined.
Draco had never mentioned anything about it to her.
Biting her thumb anxiously pressed between her teeth, Hermione paced around the room while considering her options. The memory of her last visit with the werewolf still haunted her, and she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to pursue this mystery any further.
With a frustrated sigh, she gave up and lay in bed. But it was in vain. She tossed and turned, with the letter taunting her on her nightstand, making her unable to sleep.
After a battle with the covers, she finally gave up and reached for her last tonic and a pepperup potion to give her the strength and stamina she needed to face whatever lay ahead. The liquid burned her throat as she downed it in one gulp. Still, she immediately felt a surge of energy. A short while later, the familiar trees loomed ominously before her, the gnarling branches and her pounding heart the only noise around her.
The trek around the dense trees didn't take long, soon, she was facing the same cabin she had stood in front of earlier in the day. She tested her magic which swirled around her; the wards were lifted. Harry had left.
The closer she got, the energy around the cabin felt more, and more inviting. The gun against her thigh felt warm, flashing against her skin with heavy heat pulses. It was as though she had stepped through a barrier, that something granted access. She had felt it before but didn't take heed of its effect. It was strong magic, but it couldn't…
Her brow furrowed in confusion, casting another look up at the hut in front of her, she caught movement under the crack of the door. Someone was home. Judging by her spell, it was only one heartbeat at the room's far end. Wand in hand, she pushed on the door, and by the fire, a small creature emerged and stood in a blue and gold embroidered linen, reminding her of Dumbledore's attire. It moved back and forth from the table, not noticing her presence, it was a house elf, but unlike the ones she had met, this one had large, round eyes that looked like those of a tarsier and almost a wild look about them. Though it was simply brewing something, its demeanor made Hermione uneasy.
As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, the elf snapped its fingers, Hermione's wand appeared in the elf's hand, and the door locked itself. Hermione instinctively reached for her gun but paused as the elf bowed low and presented her wand to her.
"I've been waiting for you, moy dorogoy." The elf said, facing the floor.
Hermione asked the elf who he was, with her hand still on her gun as she took her wand from his hands.
"Hagas, at your service. Please excuse my unpleasantness, but Hagas cannot be disturbed," he replied, bowing again and gesturing for her to sit at the table.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione took a seat and asked, "How did you know I was coming?"
Hagas continued to stir and then suddenly jumped onto the table, startling Hermione and causing her chair to scrape against the floor. Before she could react, he immobilized her without a word, his long fingers gently holding her skull. "I could smell you," he said calmly. "You've been the only visitor Hagas has been expecting. Hagas is surprised it took this long. How is the Master Draco?" His pupils dilated as he mentioned Draco's name before releasing his grip.
"How do you know Master Draco?" Hermione asked, her heart pounding in her chest.
He ignored her question with a 'humph,' making Hermione repeat the question. He jumped off the table to approach the wall next to the fireplace, waving his hand to reveal a nook of things she couldn't identify, and after a few clinks of glass, he waved his hand again to close up his hiding spot. He walked back to Hermione cradling something in his bony fingers.
As if presenting a flower to a date on their first outing, Hagas revealed a yellow flower Hermione had only seen in her dreams.
Photia Oleander.
Her hand twitched as the sweet smell of apricots enveloped her senses. Was this what Draco had sent her to find?
"Under the full moon in the soil where the wolves rest, it grows, pulling the energy from the planets. Though only a bud, it is just as powerful." Hagas explained, smiling.
"Wait!" She protested, rising from her seat, as she watched him crumple it in his hand only to deposit the mass into the cauldron and a hair he had removed from Hermione's shoulder without her knowing.
"Hagas will need your metal machine."
"No." Hermione resisted. "No, not until you tell me what all of this is, Hagas. Answer my questions first."
"There is no time for words. Master told me of this. Mistress Hermione must trust if she wishes to save her love. Let Hagas take the metal machine. It will be safe with Hagas. Trust." Hagas held out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Hermione handed him the gun."
Hagas stared at her for a moment longer, his pointy ears twitching, before he snapped his fingers and extinguished the candles in the room with an invisible gust of wind. The only illumination source came from the flickering flames of the fireplace, casting an eerie golden glow across the space.
"Mistress Hermione must not attempt to control but accept." He jumped back on the table, advancing towards her. Hermione attempted to move away, but the elf touched her chest, directly over Dolohov's scar. She held onto his hand, preventing him from getting closer.
"Do not fear. Mistress is familiar with the monster who gave you this?" Hagas nodded towards her chest.
Hermione's grip tightened. "How do you know Dolohov? Did you serve the family - did you serve Vojtech?"
Hagas wrung his free hand anxiously, and his ears twitched as if he were facing an unseen terror. Hermione could feel the elf's emotions emanating from him in waves, making her heart ache. "Hagas has served many masters," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "The last... Hagas has failed the last." She knew he was referring to the Romanov family, a once-powerful dynasty that had been slaughtered in a brutal massacre years ago. Clearly, the memory still haunted the elf.
"Listen, Hagas," Hermione said gently, reassuring him. "Whatever you fear about them, it has been destroyed. Dolohov - Vojtech, nor Antonin can hurt you." She hoped her words would comfort him, but the elf's expression remained troubled.
Hagas looked as if he was about to cry, his eyes filling with tears. It was clear that the past still held a powerful grip on him, and Hermione wondered if there was anything she could do to ease his pain. But then, instantly, he hardened his expression and spoke with determination. "Your metal machine is the key, moy dorogoy," he said, his voice firm. "Without it, many years would be in vain."
Hermione looked at him and knew she wouldn't get an answer out of him before reluctantly handing it over to him. He dismantled it and removed a bullet from the chamber. It glistened more than the others; she had last seen it when Draco lodged it in Dolohov's heart.
Can matter exist outside of a memory? Hermione pondered, her thoughts interrupted by Hagas dropping the diamond into the cauldron. Unlike before, this time, he chanted a spell that sounded dark and sinister, with a low guttural chant in a language she didn't understand. The ominous humming that accompanied the spell seemed to vibrate through the air, sending goosebumps across Hermione's skin.
A blinding light moved through the tiny space, which Hermione blocked with the crook of her elbow. The sensation was all too familiar: a sense of deja-vu of Lucius and her in the church where he sacrificed his magic and life for his son. She waited for the light to lessen, and when it did, Hagas stood close to her, his silhouette illuminated by the fire.
He held a chalice out for her.
"Mistress must drink. Mistress must stop link. Be free," he said, his voice urgent.
The cup was cool against her lips as Hermione raised it to her mouth, her eyes fixed on the murky liquid inside. She could smell the sweet and metallic scent of the drink, and her stomach churned with uncertainty. What if it was poisoned? What if it was laced with something that would cause her harm?
The consequences of not drinking were too dire to contemplate. With a deep breath, she tilted the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip. The liquid burned her throat, and she gagged to suppress the urge to vomit.
Hermione could feel the potion working its way through her body as she swallowed, gnawing at her mind and bones. It was as if she was experiencing what Harry felt when he cut his connection with Voldemort. Memories flashed through her mind too quickly to comprehend, leaving her struggling to make sense of them.
Until the flashes combined into a vision, and through a grey mist, she saw herself approach Draco, shooting him straight through the wound Dolohov made. The image was so vivid she could almost feel the weapon's recoil in her arm.
The task's weight presses down on her. As she mentally returned to the cabin, she set the cup down on the table and wiped her mouth, her hands shaking. She couldn't believe that this was happening, that she, Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, was being forced to commit murder.