In Dumbledore's Office...
"I assure you, Mr. Muestilde, your granddaughter is quite safe."
The small portrait perched on the Headmaster's desk, left behind as a communication device at their last face-to-face meeting, features Hermione's grandfather, Leopolde, who is pacing in and out of the frame.
"You say that she's aware of the prophecy?" the man queries from under his shock of wild bushy white hair.
"Indeed, she is, Leo. In fact, she's learned of it from the boy who was destined to show it to her," Dumbledore affirms.
"Who is this boy, Albus?"
The headmaster does not immediately answer.
"She's known him the entire time she's been at Hogwarts. All of the friends she's won are magically compatible to her, Leo, as well as wholly capable of assisting her through whatever dangers she might face if she decides to take on the role that has been fated for her."
"And what of her safety outside of the boundaries of your school? Do you have a way to ensure she will be taken care of should she leave Hogwarts... unexpectedly?" the bushy haired man inquires doubtfully.
"A magical tracking device has been given to her by this same young man in the form of a keepsake. It is unlikely that she will remove it. I believe the gift has become quite special to her."
"Is it something like a Muggle GPS?" the wiry man asks, peering inquiringly at the aging headmaster who stares back blankly.
"Mr. Muestilde," Severus Snape's slow drawl interrupts the staring match. "If it is of any comfort, a number of Order members will be made aware of her mission. We all will be working to ensure your granddaughter remains unscathed.
The man in the painting turns toward the silky voice and purses his lips, unsure of what to make of the Slytherin professor he'd been introduced to at his last meeting with the Headmaster, just before Yule.
"Are you quite sure, Albus, that there is no other way around this? Perhaps I should meet her, let her know that she is not alone in this world, that she has a family that wants her, that she can forego involving herself with this prophecy.... She should meet her birth parents."
Dumbledore turns to peer into the portrait as Snape moves closer to examine the man, too.
"Perhaps it is time that Hermione knows who you are before her role in all of this becomes infinitely more complicated. I am not quite sure she is strong enough yet to meet her birth parents, but she may find she'll need your support. But brace yourself, Leo, she is a Gryffindor, headstrong and loyal to a fault. She will not likely welcome being asked to abandon the positive part she could play in Voldemort's demise, especially from someone she considers a stranger."
The three men nod gravely at one another.
"Contact me when you have secured the time and place for our meeting."
"Expect my owl soon, Leo."
The painted image of the man nods, then leaves the portrait. Dumbledore places the frame back into its box and secures it within a locked portion of his desk. Turning to Snape, he says, "Severus, I think it is time to have a conversation with young Mssrs. Weasley and Malfoy."
Meanwhile... In the Room of Requirement
POV: Ron
"For Merlin's sake, Granger!" Malfoy's lips curl in an impatient, irritated snarl. He is horrifically angry. "I will not Obliviate you no matter how many times you suggest it! Shield your thoughts! Block me out! You can learn Occlumency. YOU JUST AREN'T TRYING!" I try not to jump in and hex the blonde prat when it seems he'll lunge at her. As for Hermione, she seems fine, holding her own against his monumental fit.
Even for an insensitive lout like me, it is crystal clear that something happened between Hermione and Malfoy during the holidays. For weeks now, in an effort to dodge the real reason for their renewed animosity, they've been unnaturally prickly around one another. Considering their history, the level of tension is suffocating for me to witness. They bicker and torment each other at every go.
To make things worse, Harry is trying to win Hermione back over to at least being friends again. It's impossible not to notice Malfoy turning a violent shade of puce over on the Slytherin side every time he sees Harry within arm's distance of her. This happens not only during meals three times a day, it occurs in the halls as we pass for classes, and on the grounds... just... everywhere. It's painful to watch. Pathetic, really.
As it is, their secret training sessions skirt on the edge of real danger since he's teaching her both dark curses and counter curses. After such "Harry and Hermione" sightings Malfoy seems as violent-prone as Riddle himself when they meet in the training room behind the ballet-dancing troll tapestry. Worse, the barmy witch welcomes his rage, egging him on to do his worst!
This attempt to educate Hermione is what my dad would call a Muggle landmine, full of all sorts of hidden explosives that could go off on any poor bloke who takes a wrong step. In my dual desire to watch Malfoy crash and burn, but also cheer him on in the face of danger, I've appointed myself watch guard to make sure they don't accidentally Avada each other between throwing around Crucios.
Clearly, Hermione is more skilled at the Dark Arts than Malfoy wishes to believe. Take Occlumency, for example. He still doesn't know she's Slytherin's heir, even after nearly a month and a half of training. From what Hermione's told me, she's figured out how to practice this magic in a way that would have most wizards pulling at their beards, groaning, and wondering aloud how in Merlin's name she's done it.
Over the break, Hermione discovered that if she focuses all her magical efforts on shielding her one secret from Malfoy, she can keep him from reading that particular part of her brain. She describes it as shoving specific ideas and emotions into an imaginary safe that rivals the strongest vault in Gringott's. Impressive, really, that she is aware of how her vast mind works. Unfortunately, this means she has to allow Malfoy complete freedom to see everything else in her head during their Legilimency sessions. Based on his rantings, it seems he's absolutely disgusted at how easily she allows him to gather these unsecured thoughts.
After watching him train her for weeks and one sorry night over some contraband Firewhisky--a might fine bit of Ogden's that--listening to Malfoy's rat-arsed grouching, I take it his fury isn't really about Hermione's failure to keep him out of her head. He all but admitted that he senses she's hiding something. Knowing him, he can't stand that he can't beat her at his own game. Under my watch, he's been acting a lot like an insulted hippogriff due to her unnatural talent of side-stepping his curses. Now, the Ferret's insulted me one too many times for me not to enjoy watching Hermione lord one over him. As amusing as this is though, I do have to remind myself that her advanced use of clever mind tricks is doing nothing to help us keep her from eagerly approaching Voldemort.
As for Hermione, she's gotten far too smug. I know her and it's mere spite that has her toying with Malfoy now. She's hacked off and knows that she will get a reaction from the Ferret by pretending to be miffed at his name-calling by loudly grousing about Obliviation being the ultimate answer to his disappointment in her. Likely not the sort of attention she wants from him, but at least it's something other than the cold disregard he shows her outside of the Room of Requirement's rendition of a magical training room.
I tune in to her shrill retort. It's hard not to.
"I mean it! Just Obliviate me, Malfoy, then I can forget I ever cared about your well-being– you... you wretched cockroach! Obliviate me so I can go to Voldemort with a clear head. It would be easier that way," she shrieks. "You're complete rubbish at pretending to be a Death Eater! Of course I'm not learning properly! It's your fault I'm not able to come up with the proper counter curses! Your pathetic attempts to curse me are too weak to be considered remotely dark!"
This is not Hermione.
This is a girl not getting enough attention from the bloke she wants to notice her. I know this because the way Hermione is acting towards Malfoy is exactly the sort of mental behavior Lavender has been putting me through lately since I've been trying to avoid her.
Flippin' girls and the mad things they do to boys!
When I ask Hermione if she's trying to purposely wind up the Ferret, she innocently insists she's trying to goad Malfoy into being the first to suggest using Occlumency as a way to feed Riddle the "false" information of her being the Slytherin heir. Her secret, which she still insists on hiding from him no matter what I have to say to convince her otherwise, is what drives her need to make Malfoy think it's his idea to practice what she'll be doing with Voldemort when He looks into her head.
Blimey, it's scary, if not more than a bit confusing, how her mind works.
Seems Malfoy hasn't yet figured what she's about or he's ignoring it. Either way, his stubborn hide refuses to see that his less-than-brilliant plan to convince Hermione of her incompetence is nothing but a spectacular failure.
If you ask me, Hermione's far too accomplished at reading her opponent and adjusting her practice of Occlumency to effectively fight back. She's discovered that while most wizards believe her emotions are a great weakness in the practice of this magical defense, she seems well able to harness her weakness and make it a great strength. She's done this by correctly recognizing that experiencing too much of her feelings through Legilimency seems to be Malfoy's... what does Harry always say about his favorite Muggle superhero's greatest weakness? Something about "crypto-night"?
The Ferret's shouting interrupts my thoughts.
"Are you or are you not the brightest witch of your age?! If you want to convince Weasley and me that you are able to face the Dark Lord, try working harder on developing your magic than coming up with your feeble excuses, Granger!
"You have to be able to separate yourself from your feelings when I bring you to him. Walking up to Riddle and allowing him to peer into your unfettered mind is life-threatening! You are insane if you think Voldemort won't discover your half-baked, certain-to-fail plan to usurp Him. It's too easy to penetrate that overly large brain of yours. Do you have a death wish? He'll eat you alive, and when he does that, you put all of us in danger. In case I haven't reminded you today, I no longer wish to die!"
Though Malfoy and I both know our wager's long lost, let it be said that he plays a convincing role of being thoroughly enraged with her. On and on he pushes her with insult after scathing insult at some trumped up inability of hers to counter his curses. The Ferret finishes on an impressive roar, saying something truly offensive, words so loaded they have my own ears ringing and her, at last, screaming at him to back off.
"You're not even close to being the scary Death Eater you're supposed to convince Voldemort you are, you insufferable arse! You can't even Crucio a Pygmy Puff!" she screeches. "Get out of my head! Now!"
Bugger. I know that octave level.
"You think you can whine that last bit at the Dark Lord, Hermione?!" Malfoy bellows, stomping towards her. "We can't pull this off. You cannot do this! Admit it!"
Her fury lights the air as magic sparks off her. This will not end well and the Ferret hasn't had enough history with her to realize it.
"Oi! Ease off, Malfoy. She's knackered," I say interrupting them. I push myself up from sitting and hold his wand out to him. I am impressed, but not surprised, that he practices Legilimency without it. The blonde stares at my outstretched hand. Seems he's forgotten I've been in the room with them the entire time. I still wonder just how far he's penetrated into her great brain during these weeks of training.
"OK, Hermione, break time," I announce, putting my body between them. "As for you," I say turning my attention to Malfoy, my palm still out, offering him his wand, "let's try summoning your Patronus, again."
From the start, it amused me to no end that after all these weeks of trying to do what so many in the Gryffindor house managed in less than a few days, Malfoy hasn't seen any more than a slip of silver float out of his wand. After I'd gotten over that little laugh, I began to think of the reasons for his epic failure at casting the Expecto Patronum incantation.
It at last occurred to me that this loaded, pure-blooded git, who could have anything his heart desires, does not have even one powerfully happy memory to bring a Patronus to light. This reality makes me feel incredibly sorry for him, a feeling that doesn't sit well with me.
"What thoughts have you been using to conjure your Patronus, Malfoy?"
"None of your damn business, Weasley!"
"Do you want to learn how to cast a Patronus or not?" I ask, exasperated.
"Why can't Hermione teach me?" he whines gratingly, sending her a pleading look. I shoot her a warning glance not to give in to his childishness.
"Hermione can't help you because you've tired her out from all your yelling and belittling her over the Occlumency training," I reply in a scolding tone my mum often uses. I set to twirling his wand in my fingers. "So, now it's my turn to do the same to you... you whiny baby."
"Fine, Weasel. Let us get this over with," he gnashes, snatching his wand out of my grasp.
"Alright then, let's start again," I say commandingly, standing beside his slighter frame. "What have you been thinking of to try to conjure a Patronus?"
He sighs, rubbing at his temples. I wait forever and a day for his answer. During the silence, he keeps casting quick darting glances at Hermione. Now I know at least one person he thinks about. Maybe thoughts of her are the cause of those little wisps of silver that float from his wand. I wonder if he'd admit to the truth of my guess under these circumstances. I doubt it. The sight of his tightened lips and tense shoulders continue to irritate me as I continue to wait. Just as I'm about to tell them both that we should call it a day, I hear him mumble.
"Flying."
"Beg pardon?"
Ever the drama queen, Malfoy sighs loudly, rolls his eyes, and then grumbles,"My happiest memory is of my father teaching me to fly when I was about four or five. It was the only time I had ever seen him… " his voice falters, turning wistful. "I had never seen the both of them, Mother and him, so happy together as when I was up in the air. Father was laughing when we were up so high… I could hear Mother, too..."
I hold up my hand to keep him from going on. I know talking about it must be downright unnatural for him and I simply am not ready to feel that much compassion for the cockroach. I turn to pace the room, listening to the others breathing quietly as they watch me move back and forth.
My thoughts turn to my own memory of first learning how to fly on a broom with my dad, how my mum watched on terrified I would fall, laughing when we flipped in the air and safely made it back to the ground to the grand applause of my older brothers.
How ironic.
I feel my lips quirk at the thought. Flying for the first time. It's the very same memory I use to conjure my own Patronus.
So, why doesn't it work for Malfoy?
I think of how I feel about my own father. Proud, actually, and I know I love him no matter what.
But, what must Malfoy feel for his father?
Love?
Loyalty?
Disappointment?
I turn to look at him.
"You love your dad?"
I watch him squirm. OK... I move on quickly.
"You still believe in your dad's views about blood purity?"
He looks quickly at Hermione and then back to me. "No! Of course not!" the sound of his angry denial tears through the empty chamber.
"If your dad asked you to do the Dark Lord's bidding for his sake, would you?"
More silence, then...
"There is such a thing as duty, Weasel," he answers bitterly, "but, no, I would hope not... no matter what the price."
Hermione and I look at one another, absorbing his reply.
"You angry, disappointed in your dad at all?"
"How could I not be, Ron?! Look at the position in which my father's placed me! And worse, I hate to think what his deplorable decisions are doing to my mother!"
I shoot a glance at Hermione who voiced the tiny gasp I made inwardly at Malfoy's use of my first name. He surprisingly sounds a lot like Harry when he is especially irritated with me.
"Well then, Draco," I reply, purposely using his name without sarcasm, "that memory you're using is not going to work. Think of something else."
Silence.
He covers his eyes with his palm. His blonde fringe hangs over his hand as his fingers massage his temples and forehead as though he'll be able to come up with something that way.
I can hear the thundering of my own heartbeat in my ears as my temper rises.
"Malfoy, you're not trying!" I lash out at him in the same way he did Hermione earlier. I frown at Hermione who is silently mouthing "Stop!" at me.
I shake my head at her as I examine Malfoy's posture. His head is hanging. His hands are now at his sides. He looks wretched… miserable. I can't help but open my heart to him, and when I do, my anger drains.
"Look–" I sigh suddenly at a loss. I turn to stare at Hermione. As soon as I catch sight of her curly brown, crazy long hair, the idea suddenly bursts, like a sunbeam through storm clouds, in my head.
I quickly shift my attention back to Malfoy.
"Have you kissed her yet?"
"What?!" His head whips up in alarm and his silver eyes flash on mine before they slide shyly over to her.
Her twin response has me smirking.
"Well, I guess that would be a no," I say with a short laugh. "Well, get on with it then. We are trying to defeat Voldemort, after all. Hermione, mate, you're going to have to take this one for the team," I joke, knowing full well she must have been waiting for the Ferret to make the first move since her little convincing hospital scene.
Hermione, here's an early birthday present for you! I think mirthfully to myself as I make my way to the door.
Before I firmly shut it behind me I call, "I'll give you five minutes of privacy. Don't try anything too fancy that will make me want to Obliviate myself when I come back. And when I am back, Malfoy, we'll try it again."
Author's note: Shorter this time because I needed to split a chapter. The one I'd written was ridiculously long - longest one yet. I thank StarDuchess for her speedy beta work and you should, too, by going to R&R her dramione (anti-)Valentine's Day drabbles: 7 Kisses in 7 Years while we wait for her to edit my next installment :) She writes Draco at his very worst and it's a gas, if you can stand him that way. Then, if you want lighter, fluffier fare, you can pass the time reading mine: The Art of Kissing. Yes, this is flagrant pimping. I hope it works! Ha!
Next one for Dilemma will be up as soon as StarDuchess is done... and then... alas... my muse is flickering out. I am currently brainstorming. If you want to throw in your two cents, please send your ideas and thoughts my way as to where you're imagining this will go or where you definitely DON'T want it to go. With the strength of your feedback, I may be able to cast an Accio! on my wandering muse.
I'd rather not leave you hanging for weeks as I go through the process of story development again. That took forever last time. I promise to give credit where credit is due if I pick up your slightly ruffled plot bunny. :) Cheers!
~foggy