Chapter 6 – Unfortunate Events
The day after Hermione's strange encounter with Draco Malfoy, another unexpected visitor took root in her life. Again.
"I heard that you had started corrupting young minds, and it seems I heard correctly. Apparently the rumor mill churns out a bit of truth every so often."
Tensing, Hermione looked up from the paper she was grading. She knew that voice better than most, and she had to force herself to focus on the man's blurred figure before the image was clear. Ronald Weasley had the audacity to stand in the doorway to her office, lean against the door frame as though he had been there a thousand times, scrutinizing her with a rather unbecoming sneer.
"Guess I should have upped my bet with Troust; he's going to be a sorry git once he has to pay up." The man pushed himself upright and sauntered towards his ex-wife. The divorce had been finalized for almost two weeks, but it seemed that old habits died hard. He couldn't resist batting her around like a mouse caught between a bored cat's paws.
Hermione met his gaze, forcing her hands not to shake as he moved closer. There had never been a moment when he couldn't read her. Her eyes were more than windows to her soul; they were unbarred access to it, hosting flashing neon signs reading "look here for all of her secrets!" and all.
"I always knew you wanted children," Ron continued, taking a spare quill from its holder on Hermione's desk. "It's too bad that no man can bear the thought of sleeping with you to knock you up. I'm sure everyone's heard by now what a whore you are, seeing as you let that wretch soil you while you were still married to me. An easy lay, I'm sure they think, but why bother when the woman's more frigid than an iceberg?" Leaning over her desk, Ron lightly ran the tip of the feather across Hermione's exposed arm, his eyes never leaving hers. "In case you still wonder why we hadn't had sex in the final months we were together."
It took everything Hermione had not to jump up and strangle the man. All of her anguish at his words morphed into fury the instant it processed in her numbed brain, and she wanted nothing more than to claw the man's eyes and rip his tongue out. Or better yet, snip off that little something he rarely deigned to use those last few months together.
Ron merely smirked, having hit his mark. He inched the feather up her arm, across her collar bone, up her neck, and rested it on her lips. "But I'm not here to torment you. At least, it's not the main reason for my visit." Flicking the feather against her nose, he straightened. "There's a staff meeting, and I was sent to herd the sheep into the playpen."
Swallowing her anger, Hermione gingerly unclenched her own quill and tried to flatten the crinkles in her student's essay. She hadn't realized she had scrunched it in her free hand when picturing Ron's eyes bulging from his head from her squeezing his neck. "What are you even doing here, Ronald?" she questioned, her tone brisk. "I haven't heard anything about Aurors entering the grounds." Ron's scoffing set her teeth on edge.
"Why the hell do you think there's an impromptu staff meeting?" Ron returned to his previous position in the doorway, crossing his arms and flicking the tip of her quill with his finger.
Hermione flinched every time the quill snapped from his fondling. Rather than respond, she stood and gathered her things, pointedly ignoring her ex-husband. I doubt I'll get any more grading done tonight, she thought with a sigh.
Crack.
Risking a glance up, she saw her newly-snapped quill in Ronald's grip. From the miffed expression he wore, she doubted it was an accident.
"Try to keep up during the meeting; I'd hate to see you struggle to grasp the situation at hand." With a parting sneer, Ron tossed Hermione's quill over his shoulder as he vacated the room.
Once he was gone, Hermione seemed to cave in on herself. Her shoulders slumped, lips drooped into a frown, and she looked her age for once. She wasn't old, just getting older. "I'm far too old to let a man trample on my heart, though," Hermione muttered, her brow furrowing.
Is this what my life is meant to be like? A torment of fluctuating emotions, with none of them being pleasant? Sighing yet again, the woman rolled her shoulders and slowly maneuvered to the door, softly clicking it shut behind her. The hallway was empty, save the flickering torchlight, and Hermione was glad. Each step allowed her to piece herself back together, to weave her appearance back into something acceptable. The notion that she was healing had seemed plausible over the past few months, but Ron's startling appearance left an impression that was sure to stay. Maybe she wasn't nearly as healed as she thought. Maybe she hadn't healed at all, merely throwing bandages over her wounds to staunch the bleeding.
Perhaps it was internal bleeding that was killing her, and that's why she had convinced herself she was fine every time she saw her reflection. Her pain – her bumps and bruises – were internal. Wouldn't it be easier to just let his poisonous words seep into her veins and take her away from the world?
Right, because that kind of attitude would have sufficed during the war.
Cringing at her own thoughts, Hermione bit her cheek and rounded the corner. She was nearing the staff room now, and it took all of the willpower she had to stop chewing on her cheek and stand tall. McGonagall wasn't to see the steps backward Hermione had taken in a few short minutes of being in the same room as her ex.
She was the last person to enter the room, and all eyes turned to her as she took her seat. The room was more crowded than she remembered from their last meeting, and Hermione refused to acknowledge that part of the reason was the red-haired bastard smirking at her from across the table.
Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat to turn all eyes towards her. "I'm sure you're all anxious to hear why you've been called here so suddenly," she began, her gaze sweeping over her faculty. "But I'm afraid that I won't be the one answering your questions. Rather, Mister Kros is here to enlighten you. Please give him your undivided attention; what he has to say is of concern to us all." Stepping aside, the older woman allowed a much younger, more eager man to take her place as head of the table. He grinned wolfishly and clapped his hands together as though this were a pep talk before a Quidditch match.
"It's a pleasure to be here, despite it being under such unfortunate circumstances." Mister Kros, or John, as Hermione knew him, seemed to glow with excitement. Of what, however, had yet to be seen. "I'm the head of the Ministry of Magic's Magical Law Enforcement Department," he stated, tossing Hermione an uncharacteristic wink.
A few eyes turned towards the woman, some accusingly, some curiously. Hermione tried not to glower as her former coworker tried to command the attention of the room once more.
John Kros's smile faltered for a moment as the room went silent. "It has come to the Ministry's attention that there has been a disturbance in Hogsmeade as of late, and we've been called in to investigate."
"Investigate? What is there to investigate, other than an old hag's complaints of her bar being robbed?" Professor Hollingsworth, the younger professor that wasn't too fond of Hermione, questioned.
"I'm glad you asked!" Grinning once more, John Kros motioned to the visitors in the room. "I've brought my best team for the job! Some of them have been scoping out the area already, but due to the unfortunate events of yesterday, we've brought every pair of eyes and ears we could spare." Pausing for effect, John dropped his gleeful expression for something more somber. "I'm afraid," he said slowly, "that a tragedy has fallen upon Hogsmeade."
Hermione watched her coworkers raise their brows and fidget with impatience; the man certainly wasn't meant for speech-making, despite his glorified "performance."
John took a deep breath, his eyes finally showing sorrow for whatever this "tragedy" was. "I'm afraid… There's been a death in Hogsmeade. And not just an ordinary one." His gaze dropped then, and he solemnly clasped his hands together and held them behind his back. "Madame Rosmerta – Rosie, as some of you may know her – was taken from us."
For a moment, Hermione thought she had gone deaf. The complete silence of the room engulfed her, making it harder to breathe. "But I just saw Rosmerta yesterday." Her own voice startled her; she didn't sound like herself. Softer than usual, almost timid.
That caught the attention of the majority of the room. John raised an eyebrow, a sparkle returning to his eye. Minerva's face softened with worry, and Ron practically snarled at her, the accusation clear in his body language.
He's always had a thing for Rosmerta, even today, it seems.
"Well, Miss Weas—Granger," John said sharply, placing his palms on the lengthy, wooden table. "There will be time for an interrogation later. I'm sure quite a few of you saw the victim yesterday." He waited another moment before continuing. "Headmistress McGonagall has given us free reign of the castle for the duration of our investigation. My team will be staying in the castle until further notice, so please accommodate the change as much as possible. We hope not to disturb your classes, but our sweep of the castle will be by no means a cursory glance. We are thorough, especially when dark magic is at work."
"Dark magic?" another professor whispered, her eyes widening.
"Yes, the darkest of magics."
Hermione shivered as John's eyes locked onto hers. Empty. His eyes were empty; haunted. None of the previous glee was visible, and he took shaky breaths, as though he was attempting to contain sheer terror. "A Dark Mark was seen above The Three Broomsticks last night, where the victim was found. It seems as though… followers of the old ways are looking to start his work again."
Outrage spilled into the room, the energy in the air as crimson as blood. Shouts began, from both Ministry field agents and Hogwarts staff alike. Hermione didn't hear a word, not really. Her stomach lurched, and she clenched her eyes shut to control her body. This can't be happening, she told herself, shaking her head slowly. All of the Death Eaters were either exonerated or thrown into Azkaban; there was no way that a revolt was starting again. It had to merely be a student playing a sick prank.
A prank that involves murder?
Hermione sucked in a breath through her clenched teeth, shivering despite herself. Images flashed of the fallen from the war. People known, people unknown, people lost, friends fallen. It was a jumbled film that wouldn't shut off, the faces smiling happily at her one second before freezing. Then the true nightmare began.
First, the eyes shifted, flickering into depths of terror, The smile cracked and chipped away until it was slack, the body now on the ground, the light fading from the eyes. Over and over, the faces played, the chaos in the room continuing.
Intense heat scalded her hands, and Hermione jerked out of her memories. Another set of hands held her own, trying to pry her fingers open. The touch was gentle yet firm, and the warmth slowly faded from threatening to soothing. She kept her eyes on the slender fingers wrapping around her own, barely feeling the sting as her nails were pulled from her palms. Red crescents pooled where her nails had been, but Hermione didn't bother worrying about the minor flesh wounds.
The room was beginning to calm as Minerva's voice hailed over the din. Hermione briefly registered something about keeping calm and not distressing the students or their families before a low timbre beside her claimed her attention.
"It's alright, Hermione." Hot breath fanned out across the side of her neck and cheek, causing the woman to tremble. "We won't let this escalate. You have my word."
A faint scent of peppermint wafted over her and helped soothe her nerves. Slowly, as though not to scare away a frightened animal, Hermione turned her head towards her whisperer, and her breath caught as she saw nothing but an endless expanse of silver. She blinked, forcing her vision to look beyond the silvery depths. "Draco," she breathed, surprise tinkling in her voice.
He was close to her – far too close for anyone she wasn't intimate with. Concern riddled his expression, but he seemed more amused than anything. "Hermione," he replied softly, rubbing the woman's knuckles with his thumb.
Hermione's lips were parted slightly; something she hoped didn't make her seem stupefied. She snapped her mouth closed and tugged her hands from his grasp, spark of defiance igniting inside her. "What do you think—"
A growl from across the table cut her off.
"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron hissed, standing so quickly that his chair smacked into the wall behind him. It was clear that his coworkers had seen this kind of response before since they rushed to Ron's sides and locked him in some kind of hold, one person at each of his sides.
Again, Ron reminded Hermione of a cat about to pounce. Or maybe a lion this time.
Draco stood from his crouched position beside Hermione and raised a blonde eyebrow at the enraged Weasley. "Simply comforting a troubled woman, something I'm sure you would know nothing about."
"You know what I'm talking about, Malfoy!" Ron snapped his snarl on his boss, John Kros. "Why is he on this case?! He's the number one suspect as a Death Eater!"
Hermione was sure that his rage was for more than Draco's connection to the Dark Arts, but she didn't dare ponder the notion for longer than a second.
Mister Kros's steely expression was enough to freeze the blood flowing through Hermione's veins. There was a reason he was made Head of the Department, after all.
"Mister Weasley," he said slowly, sharply tilting his head. The resounding crack from his neck popping almost echoed in the newfound silence. "You should know better than to throw blind accusations at people, especially if that person is a coworker of yours." He paused. "Now, sit down."
Ron fought free from his captors and hesitated, his nostrils flared, clearly defiant, before practically slamming down into his seat. Hermione was sure that she heard the wood crack from the force of Ron's body.
John's expression softened, and he loosened his navy tie. "I apologize for any high-running emotions or adrenaline, but the issue still stands. There is a danger, a threat, to everyone in this castle." Emerald eyes smoldering, he locked eyes with each and every person in the room, one by one. "We must work together to seize this threat and crush it in our bare hands."
Minerva stepped beside John then, her face as grave as his. "Unfortunately, that's all the time we have today. Mister Kros will inform each of you about various accommodations and… requests he wishes from you." With a nod, she dismissed her faculty. "The Ministry's workers will be staying in the teacher's wing with you all, so try not to step on each other's toes."
Ron was the first to bolt out of the room, leaving a trail of uncontained emotion in his wake. Hermione took a deep breath and stood, scanning the heads in the room for the one person she had questions for, in vain. Draco Malfoy had disappeared.
Author's Note:
I know, I know… I'm not the best at updating. But hey, better late than never? I'm not going to promise that the next chapters will magically be published in a timely manner, but I'm feeling the writing itch, so maybe it'll come along a little smoother. I'm planning on writing another fic (or begin writing a novel, if I can convince myself to start one) in the semi-near future while my muse is still around, and this one will most likely be a Rumbelle AU-ish fic from Once Upon a Time. If any of you are interested in being BETA readers, please let me know!
On another note, I'm curious… Do you see a connection in any of the events so far? –wiggles eyebrows- PM me what you think, and maybe I'll hint at the underlining connection in the next chapter! Happy reading!
Note Part 2:
I received a critical review and would like to address it; am I perhaps TOO vague with what is going on? My writing style typically allows me to piece things together over the course of time (generally this works well with roleplays, mixing action and slowly gaining more of a feel for the character as more is revealed), but perhaps that is not the best approach for fanfiction? I know that I can't please everyone, but I don't wish to simply dismiss this reader's words. I may seek more input from a help forum on the site. Hmm. Anywhoo, please PM me if you have any input of your own! With this being my first fic, I'm feeling things out as I go; it's as much a journey for me as it is for you as a reader.