AN: I'm sorry, I know I am awful. You would think that Spring Break would mean I would have much more time to write, wouldn't you? I can only offer you my apologies, and a new chapter.
Also, I am pleased that you all have taken so nicely to the relationship between Daphne and Neville.
Today I noticed exactly how long this story is going to be, especially since I can get 4 chapters out of a single day. I will be having time jumps, of course, but still. Thank you guys for giving me to confidence to keep going with such a large project.
Without further ado I give you the chapter I made you guys wait too long for. Sorry!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Ginny. Quite frankly I fear for anyone who claims otherwise.
Great Hall, Dinner, Hermione:
From where she was sitting, Hermione could clearly see the Gryffindor table. Or, at least, the part of the table that her friends were sitting at. She could see Ginny leaning on Harry, Nott making the fruit on his plate dance around for no apparent reason, and she could also see that Neville was sitting with his arm around Daphne's shoulders. Ginny had informed Hermione of this new development at lunch, of course, but it was another thing to see it with your own eyes. It made her think back on the conversation she'd had earlier that morning with Dean, about Pansy.
Not that Hermione thought that something was going on between them yet, of course. But with how often Pansy went to go and visit Dean, and with the things that Dean had overheard Pansy saying their first night back, it could very well be a distinct possibility. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Pansy was being wonderful to them and was turning out to be quiet a wonderful friend, but Hermione still couldn't shake the memory of her standing up in the Great Hall and urging the students to give Harry over to Voldemort.
To her knowledge, Pansy hadn't even tried to apologize for it. And though she knew that the girl had changed, Hermione couldn't help but wonder why.
Hermione was long kept to her thoughts because right then the Headmistress took to the podium and called all attention to her. When the chatter finally died down, she spoke.
"I am pleased to inform you that this evening we began work on repairing the last damaged section of Hogwarts. In a week's time, we will be finished. So, on October 10th we will be having a feast in celebration, along with a toast to honor the all of the hard work put into the restoration. You will be required to dress formally for the occasion. Thank you for your attention." And without so much as a flourish, McGonagall was back in her seat, chatting politely with Professor Sprout.
A bit of excitement ran through the crowd at the news that the castle would finally be fully repaired. It was their home, after all, and it hurt to see it broken in so many places. But this was not what caused goose bumps to run rampant upon Hermione's arms. No, it was the fact that McGonagall had just unknowingly given Hermione the perfect time and place to enact the punishment for Dean's attack. It was brilliant!
So lost was she in her thoughts as she went over the brewing instructions for the potion, which was indeed complicated but didn't take a long period of time to make, that she almost didn't notice the lone owl that flew in and delivered a letter to Malfoy.
Almost.
Great Hall, Draco:
He didn't recognize the owl, or the writing on the envelope. Surely it wasn't more hate mail? He had stopped receiving that a few weeks after his trial- he suspected Potter was to blame for that. He caught Pansy staring at him and shrugged at her. He hadn't the slightest idea who would be writing him, other than his mother. And he had gotten one just this morning, so it couldn't be her.
But when he broke the seal and eyed the violent scrawl on the parchment before him, he remembered that there was one other person who might possibly write him.
When his father was sentenced to Azkaban, Draco remembered his mother telling him that it wouldn't be as bad for him as it was before. She had called in the life debt owed to her by Potter in order for him to make it so that Lucius was able to both send and receive letters. He was also allowed visitors, and wasn't placed in the part of the prison that the Dementor's frequented most often. That was all Potter had been able to do, but Draco's mother was quite pleased with it.
Draco, as he pulled out his father's letter with a sense of foreboding, was less pleased. And as he read the letter, he began to shake.
Draco,
News has reached me that I find most troubling. Mudbloods have been placed into Slytherin. The noblest House has now been defiled by the most disgusting thing imaginable. Not only that, but Lord Greengrass tells me that he is now faced with the decision of whether or not he is to disown his daughter- I must say that his reluctance to do so leaves me wondering as to where his loyalties truly lie. The youngest Greengrass, I hear, wasted no time in doing what needed to be done.
The War may be over, but the fight for supremacy is far from being done. There are those who would punish these so called 'heroes' or the war. There are those who would punish the disloyal. I know not where your mother falls into that category, but I must warn you Draco, should things turn for the sour, you must be prepared to break with her and stand in your rightful place beside me. While I cannot fault her for what she did, because it secured our family a place in this horrendous new order, there is no denying that her betrayal of Our Lord is what led to his downfall.
The folly of women and their sentimentalities knows no bounds, Draco, remember that.
What news that is disturbing to me, however, is that you seem to be acting as a protector towards the filth that now stains the House of our forefathers. I find myself unable to decide whether or not this is pure foolishness or your pitiful attempt at subtle politics. While I cannot say that I am not pleased that you are finally thinking of our family name, and are using people and situations to our advantage- I cannot condone your protection of them.
Stay out of the way, of course, and allow other fools to do the dirty work but allow the mudbloods to be murdered in the foulest ways possible. Simple be sure that others know you were in another place at the time.
I have informants everywhere, Draco. Be warned that should you not do what I demand of you, then you may well share the fate of the Greengrass girl.
Be sure to burn this.
LM
His hands were shaking. His blood ran cold. Even here, while his father was in Azkaban and he at Hogwarts, his father could still get to him. Draco felt his face close down. His world narrowed. He was suffocating, suffocating in his own stupidity. How could he possibly have thought that he was free? He was never free. He could never be free. Ice flooded him and deadened his senses. He hadn't even noticed that he had left the table and was walking somewhere until he heard the door of the Great Hall slam shut.
Draco was lost.
Great Hall, Pansy:
As soon as Draco he begun to read the letter that had been delivered, she knew exactly who it was from. Draco only ever looked like that, like Death itself was clawing at his back, was when his father had written him, explaining his expectations. She looked up at Blaise to see that he was staring intently at her, his eyes told her that he knew exactly what was happening too.
Before she could say anything, Draco had stood and left the Hall, walking slowly; lost to the world around him.
Pansy knew what would happen now. He would remain cold, unfeeling, dead, until someone managed to make him feel again. The killing of his emotions was something that Draco had been doing for years, it was his only defense. The only way he could manage to do what was expected of him, the only way to deal with any part of his life, was not to feel anything. The only emotion to ever wake him up out of his stupor was anger. But even then it could take weeks; months even, to get Draco to return to them. Time was that Pansy would force altercations between Draco and Potter, in the hopes that Potter would piss him off enough for it to work.
But that was before they had Hermione on their side. Not so much Draco's, but Pansy could honestly call the girl a friend. And she believed that Hermione was still Gryffindor enough to want to help.
Pansy looked over to the Gryffindor table, to see that both Daphne and Theo had their eyes locked on her, wearing expressions identical to the one worn by Blaise. A little farther back showed that Goyle was staring, too. All of them knew that something had to be done, and they were waiting for Pansy to decide it. She looked to the side to see that Hermione was lost- her expression one of confusion and concern. Good. Concern was good.
Without a word, she grabbed Granger's hand and towed her over to the Gryffindor table, Blaise not far behind them. Once there she beckoned for Goyle to join them, ignoring the piercing stare from McGonagall at breaking the new rule all the while.
Great Hall, Goyle:
He had no idea what it was Pansy had planned, but by the looks of it, she was determined to break Draco out of it before the night was done. This was something that they had never accomplished before- the record time being two weeks, in 5th year. Nevertheless, it was a bad idea to go against anything that Pansy said when she was in this mood, so he sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Daphne and waited to be told what to do. He always had to be there when the broke Draco out of it, because he was prone to doing stupid things like punching people or hurting himself. Greg was strong enough to restrain him.
Greg glanced about the table to see how the Gryffindors were taking this new invasion, but none of them seemed to be too anger about it. Mostly, they just wanted an explanation. Imagine his surprise when it was Potter who was the one to offer it to them.
"He got a letter from Lucius, didn't he?" Potter asked, his expression clouded. Everyone looked at him, except for Granger, wondering how the hell he knew what was going on. Potter simply rolled his eyes. "I'm actually insulted right now, you know? After all the years we spent fighting each other, watching each other-"
"Stalking each other," Granger interrupted.
"Oh shut it I only stalked him the one year," Potter continued, although slightly red-faced. "I know all of you knew this was going on. Did you honestly expect me to never notice this happening?"
Greg blinked, unsure of how to answer that question. Right then he was grateful for not having a large reputation for speaking and therefore wasn't expected to. Pansy, however, took it in stride.
"Right then," she stated. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way and you obviously know how important it is to get him out of the state his father's letters leave him in. I'm guessing you know how this is done then, Potter?"
"Anger," Potter deadpanned.
"Correct. I hate leaving Draco like this, and it's remarkably hard to affect him when he shuts down. The fastest amount of time we've ever gotten him out of it is 3 weeks-"
"Two," Greg interrupted. "During fifth year. First time we thought to use Potter to piss him off."
He was surprised at his interruption. So was everyone else, but Greg was interested to see how Potter reacted to being used to help Draco. Much to his relief, Potter didn't seem to mind it at all.
"So, I'm guessing that you guys want me to run after him and piss him off now, don't you?" Potter asked, though it was impossible to tell how he felt about it. His tone was carefully neutral, and his face betrayed nothing of his emotions. Greg was impressed, to say the least.
Pansy bit her lip. "Well, we want someone to run after him to piss him off, but there is actually someone who is better at pissing him off than you are, Potter. Besides, I would love for it not to escalate into physical violence and you two don't have the best history on that front."
If anyone had asked him, Greg would say that Potter looked a bit at Pansy for saying that someone could piss Draco off better than himself. No one would ask, of course, but it was interesting nonetheless.
"Who, then?" Potter asked.
"It's me, isn't it." Granger said. Although it should have technically been a question, Greg knew it wasn't. There was a certain resolve evident in her face, and for that Greg was thankful. Draco was a prat, yes, but he wanted his friend out of the senseless state he was in. And it looked to him that Granger thought she would be up for it.
"Please?" Pansy asked. No explanation, just the please.
Much to his relief, Granger nodded.
"He's down by the lake," Little Red said, speaking for the first time since everyone invaded the Gryffindor table. Her head was buried in a very large piece of parchment.
He wanted to ask questions, but at the moment they had more important things to attend to.
AN: Phew, lots of perspectives in that one. Again, I'm so sorry about the wait, and I'm already working on the next chapter so it'll be up very soon. I promise! Tune in to my tumblr for updates, if you don't trust me, but I swear it will be soon!