Chapter 5

The Department of Mysteries

"Do you know Dolohov?" said Hermione.

Malfoy looked over at her. His face wasn't far from hers. She noticed that they'd been slowly sitting closer together over the weeks, and now, their arms were almost touching.

"Erm," he said, shifting a bit uncomfortably next to her. "Yes, why?"

"Tell me about him," said Hermione.

Malfoy looked a bit stunned by the question, but he began speaking, staring at the Golden Snitch he was rolling in his fingers as he talked.

"Antonin Dolohov is… honestly, he's one of the most powerful wizards I've ever met. It's like the air crackles around him. He was in Azkaban for a long time, but he's not mad like my aunt. He's… intentional. Calculating. I've never seen him lose his temper. That's not to say he's a nice bloke. He's vicious and cruel. Even has his own signature spell," said Malfoy. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione's chest felt heavy to hear him talk about Dolohov like he was just another Death Eater that stopped by for tea at Malfoy Manor.

"Do you know everything that happened in the Department of Mysteries?" she asked.

"I think so, yea," said Malfoy.

"So, you know Dolohov almost killed me?" she asked.

"What?"

"Yea," she said with a humorless laugh. "That signature spell of his."

"Granger, Dolohov doesn't 'almost' kill anyone. He hits you with that spell… was it the purple flame one?" said Malfoy, and Hermione nodded. "That spell kills."

"Apparently not when it's cast non-verbally," said Hermione in a quiet voice.

"Non-verbally?"

Hermione drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her head on top of them. Tears were threatening to leak out of her eyes. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and looked over at him. His grey eyes were serious, watching her carefully.

"Tell me," said Malfoy. "Tell me what my father didn't."

Hermione put her head in her arms, staring at the floor through them. She didn't know where to begin. How could she tell Malfoy what happened at the end of last school year? How could she explain? But when she opened her mouth to speak, the story began tumbling from her lips.

"I don't want to be mad at Harry for what happened, but it's so hard not to be," said Hermione. "If he had stopped to think, to ask questions, confide in someone, to just check on Sirius-"

"Sirius Black?" asked Malfoy, twirling the Snitch between his fingers.

Hermione nodded.

"Voldemort sort of… put an image of Sirius being tortured into Harry's head. Harry thought it was real, so off to the Department of Mysteries we all went, just teenagers, alone and completely unprepared to meet a cohort of Death Eaters there. It was so stupid. And of course, it wasn't Harry's fault-"

"It sort of sounds like it was," said Malfoy, but surprisingly, his voice held no bitterness, only observation.

"I don't blame Harry for what your father did to us," said Hermione scathingly, and Malfoy looked chastened. "But yes, it was Harry's fault we were there in the first place. He felt so rotten about it all that I could hardly shout at him for it. He lost his godfather, the closest thing to a father he's ever had."

"Yes, my aunt was rather pleased with herself about that," said Malfoy. "She hated Sirius Black."

"We got to the Department of Mysteries and the Death Eaters were waiting for us. Honestly, Malfoy, it would have been a lot worse for us if your father hadn't spent five minutes lecturing us on how stupid we were first," she said, and Malfoy let out a snorted laugh. "It gave us time to think of a plan. We managed to get away from them, but of course, we were chased. I managed to Stupefy one of them, and then I hit Dolohov with a Silencio."

"You got Dolohov with Silencio?" asked Malfoy, impressed.

"Yes, but as you said, he's a powerful wizard, isn't he? He slashed his wand at me, and a purple flame hit me just here," said Hermione, and she indicated a spot just below her collar bone.

Malfoy was staring at her.

"What did it do?" he asked.

"I'm… I'm not even really sure. It felt like all the breath had gone out of my body, and everything went black. I woke up the next day. I had to relearn how to breathe," said Hermione. "There's still a shadow there, though you'd really have to know where to look to see it."

Hermione looked at him, her hand still resting against her collar bone, and he inclined his head in question. She pressed her lips together for a moment, and then, she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt and pulled it aside. He leaned close, close enough that she could smell his hair. It smelled of sandalwood. She angled her head to give him a better view, and he peered close.

"I can see it, just barely," he said, and his fingers pressed lightly against the spot on her chest.

Hermione froze. He was touching her. He seemed to realize it too, and he pulled his fingers back as though he'd been burned. Malfoy put his hands on his knees, rubbing his palms on his trousers awkwardly.

"So, my father and my aunt attacked you and your friends in the Department of Mysteries, and Dolohov nearly killed you. And Aunt Bella killed Potter's godfather," said Malfoy.

"That about sums it up," she said.

"Hm," he said. "Do you ever really think about the fact that shit like that happens and then we all just come back to Hogwarts like everything's normal?"

Hermione let out a laugh despite herself.

"I do think about that," she said. "I wonder how I'm expected to show up to school with a boy whose father literally tried to kill me six months ago."

Malfoy gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Did you know Potter tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on my aunt?" said Malfoy.

Hermione hadn't known that. She just stared at Malfoy, waiting for him to explain.

"Aunt Bella told the story like it was hilarious fun," he said. "Potter's got a hell of a Disarming Charm, I know that much, but his Unforgivables need work."

"Have you ever cast the Cruciatus Curse?" asked Hermione.

Malfoy chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment.

"I think that's enough for today," said Malfoy shortly, and he made to stand from the floor.

"I'm sorry," she said, grasping his arm to keep him from standing. "You don't have to tell me."

Malfoy sat still. His elbows were on his knees, and his hands were holding his head, a few wisps of blond hair falling into his eyes.

"I don't want to have to use Avada Kedavra to kill him," said Malfoy, and for one fleeting moment, Hermione was about to ask who, but she blanched and realized. Dumbledore.

"Is that why you tried the necklace?" she asked.

Malfoy nodded, his hands still holding his head.

"But yes, Granger, I've cast the Cruciatus Curse," said Malfoy. "It was part of the initiation."

"Merlin," she said in a low voice. "Who-"

"Don't ask me who," said Malfoy quietly.

Hermione was still grasping his arm, and she gave it a squeeze. He turned his head to look at her, clearly surprised by her comforting touch. Truthfully, she had surprised herself with it, too. Hermione offered him a sad, sympathetic smile.

"Don't you ever question all of it? Question whether you're on the right side?" asked Hermione.

"I thought that's why I was doing by talking to you," said Malfoy.

His answer surprised her so much that she didn't have anything to say in response. Malfoy must have noticed her shocked expression. He suddenly rose from the floor and offered her his hand again, and this time, she grasped it and let him pull her up. It was warm, as it had been before. He held onto her hand just a moment longer than he needed to before he released it. He sighed.

"Shall we?" said Malfoy, gesturing to the door.

Hermione nodded, staring into his grey eyes, which looked rather haunted. She realized she'd been staring and looked away, finding the door handle and resting her hand on it.

"Same time next week?" she asked.

He let out something like a defeated chuckle.

"As always," he said.