Chapter 5: The Shadows
The chill in the air wasn't too much to handle as of yet, but with Halloween approaching, scarves and long socks were commonplace among the Hogwarts' population. It was a cloudy afternoon when Professor Granger set out with her class on a special trip to Hogsmeade. The breeze was slight; only enough to cause tendrils of hair to snake around one's face.
"I want you all on your best behavior! McGonagall gave us tentative permission for today, so don't go wandering off! And for Merlin's sake, don't try stealing anything from the stores!" Hermione gave a certain pair of her first year students a sharp look as they exchanged hushed whispers with one another. "We're going to Honeydukes' first; keep together, now! Be inquisitive! We're here to learn about the various charms used in confections and in joke items when we visit Zonkos!"
She corralled her students into the candy store and smiled at their host for the day, the store's manager, nodding her thanks as the stout woman commanded the attention of the students. "So tell me, what's your favorite treat here in the store?"
Barely half an hour had passed in the students' lesson in the joke shop before they grew restless and were bouncing on their heels, eager to leave the confines of the store. They had paid attention fairly well in Honeydukes, but apparently two stores in one day was too much for the children. Either that or they had consumed too much chocolate for their pre-adolescent bodies to handle.
Hermione's smile was strained as the wiry man spoke in a soft monotone. A few minutes passed before the man was completely silent, his greying eyebrows raised as though to ask if there were any questions. Upon hearing none, he nodded curtly to Hermione and shuffled into the back room of the store, leaving the room in a silence that seemed to stretch forever.
With a deep breath, Hermione clapped her hands together and gestured to the door. "Come now, class! Before we head to Hogwarts, I'll allow you to pair off in groups of three in order to roam Hogsmeade, but don't get any ideas! I'll be watching all of you!"
The first year students excitedly claimed their partners, the misfits of the class being the final group to join out of necessity rather than desire. "Meet me back at Honeydukes in an hour," Hermione said sternly as she opened the front door with a creak. "Off you go! Be polite! Any mischief and you'll be serving detention with me next week!"
The children rushed underneath the woman's arm, all too eager to see what the tiny village had in store. The few groups that did drag their feet rather than burst from the building left soon enough, and Hermione followed suit. She wandered aimlessly, watching her little chicks flit around the area, some fascinated while others seemed bored. It brought a smile to Hermione's lips.
Pulling out a folded sheet of paper from her inner robe pocket, she held it in front of her. Tiny enough, the easily-concealable object looked like little more than a random scrap of parchment, but once Hermione lightly rapped her wand against it in a certain pattern, ink bled onto its surface.
If you are worthy, let this map show you the way. In honor of the fallen, let the shadows be lit and the truth revealed. Dumbledore's Army presents to you: The Path of the Fallen.
Hermione shivered, a chilly breeze catching her off guard. The idea of a map with such a heavy history weighed on her heart, especially since she had a personal connection to it. In case another Wizarding War broke out and their allies needed guidance, the map would be there in case they themselves (the members of the Order and the Army) were not. It had been an idea that Harry, Ron, and she had mulled over for a few years before bringing it to any sort of fruitation; the map was only a few years old now, but it had served various Army members well in their various lines of work.
Hermione had done most of the charm work for the map, so she knew how to use it better than most. It was like the Marauder's Map, only a bit more complex. Instead of only showing Hogwarts castle, it showed everywhere Dumbledore's Army (and the Order of the Phoenix by extension) had travelled during the war – all of the passageways and landmarks that they could remember. The map would show the area around the user – currently, it showed Hogsmeade. If in an area the map did not recognize (meaning that the creators hadn't inserted any information on that particular area), the map would remain completely blank; just a crinkled piece of off-white parchment.
Tiny footprints with names beneath them walked across the page, and Hermione took count of her students. All were accounted for, and all of them were in groups of three. Her eyes locked onto the name Malfoy for a moment too long, but Hermione's skin tingled as she thought she saw two Malfoys listed. Blinking rapidly, she brought the map so close to her face that her nose tapped its surface; she could practically taste the parchment.
Draco Malfoy.
"A map never lies," she could hear Remus Lupin whisper to her, almost as though he were speaking to her through the map, gently guiding her. A cold chill seeped through her robes, her skin, and into her bones. Despite the fact that Remus was a comfort, seemingly feeling his presence was eerie. Everything was eerie these days. Not only did she see Ron everywhere, but she saw everyone everywhere. The dead; old classmates, old professors, old friends. Human beings of a past life, all gone. Only shadows dancing through Hogwarts' corridors or echoes of laughter ricocheting off of classroom walls.
Wracking in a breath, Hermione's eyes flickered up from the map towards the main stretch of the village. She could just barely see Scorpius and his group mates in the distance as they peered into Madam Puddifoot's shop. Why would Draco be here?
Gingerly folding the map and returning it to the inside pocket of her robes, Hermione set off at a brisk pace. She quickly came upon the place she desired and slowed her gait. Draco wasn't too far from her, nestled in the crook where two shops converged. He was lurking in the shadows (quite shady, Hermione noted), staring out at his son. As endearing as the gesture may have been, although probably creepy to those not knowing the man's relation to the boy, Hermione was still nonplussed. She lifted her chin and took a few slow, tentative steps forward, planning on confronting the man for his business in Hogsmeade. Shouldn't he be at the Ministry?
"Don't be so wary, Hermione. I won't bite."
The hairs on Hermione's arms stood as his silken voice washed over her, and she instinctively swallowed. "I'm simply being cautious. You may not even be the real Draco Malfoy, after all; I haven't the faintest idea why a member of the Ministry would be in Hogsmeade, of all places."
Draco didn't even so much as glance at her. His entire body was turned in focus on the boy a mere forty feet from them. Both the boy's father and his professor were completely out of Scorpius' sight, but it seemed that Draco wanted to keep it that way, for reasons unknown to Hermione. Surely he would want to say hello to his son while he was in the area?
Silently, Hermione joined Draco in watching Scorpius, the boy speaking enthusiastically to the pair before him. "He's happy, you know. He enjoys his classes and is one of the best students in his year. A fine addition to Gryffindor."
Draco didn't speak. Hermione wasn't sure that he had even heard her, which was irritating. She felt her blood begin to boil and pursed her lips. "You care enough to hide in the shadows and watch your son but not enough to approach him or hear of how he's been spending his days?"
Was this what had become of Draco Malfoy? Is this what had caused the rift in the Purebloods? Had the Malfoy family grown so detached from life itself?
Hermione despised having no answers; ever since the night of the tryst between Scorpius, James, and Nero, she had gotten no closer to solving the mystery. Everything was still a mystery, and it seemed that every inch she gained only moved her three inches backwards, really. Nothing added up.
The man's silence put her on edge. "Fine, then! Don't care about your son! Don't care—"
"Hermione."
Draco turned to her then, the look in his eyes far more perplexing than should have been possible. "You shouldn't speak of things you know nothing of."
That was all. Nothing more was said. Hermione's breath escaped her, the man already turning back to stare at his son. He didn't seem angry or distressed or hurt by her words; he seemed… calm. Oddly so.
It took all Hermione had not to cry from frustration.
She pursed her lips and was poised to leave when she felt fingers grasping her wrist. Confusion clouded her eyes as they flickered upwards to meet Draco's. He had turned his head to her, but his body still faced his son's. "You're too impatient, you know that?"
Scoffing, Hermione willed herself to pull her arm from his grasp, but apparently her body protested the idea. She remained linked to him, the warmth of his touch almost scalding.
"Things aren't as they seem," he continued softly, his eyes boring into hers. Draco released her arm, but the woman felt herself flush from the intensity of his gaze. Her eyes were trapped in his. A storm raged in their grey depths, and the veins showing through his pale skin were prominent in contrast.
Hermione's tongue grated against the roof of her mouth, and she was almost able to taste the grit from how parched she was. The man before her was not the image of health she had seen a few months prior; he looked ill. Fragile. As though there were another war going on, but one that she was completely unaware of. Her brows furrowed as she slowly nodded, the action enough for Draco to turn his attention back to Scorpius. The boy had run off by then, but Draco continued staring at the space the boy had previously occupied, as though an echo of the boy remained there for his viewing pleasure.
Draco's appearance wasn't a complete mess, Hermione noted. Merely his eyes looked haunted, and his cheeks were sallower than she'd seen them in years. Granted, Hermione's encounters with Draco had been limited, despite them previously working together at the Ministry. Frowning, she took in the dark shadows under his eyes.
As though on cue, Madam Rosmerta ungracefully bumped shoulders with Hermione, the woman looking frazzled with her hair rather unkempt.
"Rosmerta!" Reaching for the woman, Hermione steadied her and patted her shoulders for good measure. "Are you alright?" she asked, the hint of worry in her voice not going unnoticed by the elderly woman.
"Of course not, my dear!" With a huff of impatience, Rosmerta half-dragged Hermione behind her as she practically jogged to The Three Broomsticks. "Have you not heard what's been happening? First Madam Puddifoot's windows are broken, and now someone has the gall to break into MY pub!" Waving her wand in front of a window, the woman clicked her tongue as the broken glass melded together again. "I just did inventory two days ago, and now I'll have to see if anything's been taken! And to top it all off, the Ministry has sent Aurors and the like to investigate – as if we can't round up a few trouble-making students on our own!"
Old age hadn't been kind to Rosmerta, and Hermione's smile was weak as she listened to the woman's angry chatter. "Right, well…" She cleared her throat, suddenly very eager to leave Hogsmeade. "I'll just be going then. Papers to grade and all."
One of Hermione's groups of students went running past, and Rosmerta threw a glare their way. "Right. See you later, dear." All of the sweetness and charm that used to drip off of the woman's tongue had apparently dried up years ago. "Ms. Coome's cat has been missing since Tuesday, and Roger swears that he hears things creeping around at night," she continued, despite having dismissed Hermione. With a grunt, she continued rambling and wandered into her business, the door slamming shut behind her.
Hermione was still for a moment, collecting herself. Another group of students passed, and she figured that their hour of innocent wanderings was coming to a close. Patting her pocket to make sure the map was still there, she followed the latest group of students, soon coming to where about half of her class had gathered. They were still idly chatting amongst themselves, so Hermione didn't interrupt.
A few minutes passed, but an uneasy feeling tugged at her gut. She tried to blame it on skipping breakfast that morning, but the nagging feeling only grew stronger. Clenching her jaw, she finally swept the area for anything out of the ordinary and noticed a dark figure hiding in the shadow of a building. She squinted to try and get a better look, but apparently it wasn't keen on her figuring out what it was since it immediately disapparated with a pop.
Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that this time, it wasn't Draco lurking in the shadows.
Author's Note: I'm SO sorry for the delay with this! I'd like to say that I'll make it up to you by posting again in a few days, if not tomorrow, but I'd rather not make promises I may not keep. I may end up editing this tomorrow (it's 2AM where I am now) for grammar or minor flow changes, but I'll be posting this now since I've made you all wait so long. If anything is confusing or if the flow is off, please feel free to PM me with your concerns and I'll see if I can edit to help fix any issues you may bring to my attention. Thank you for reading!