A Girl Named Hermione Granger: Year Four

Chapter Five: Bridging The Chasm

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. Any one cheesed at me for the wait, I'll add a long apollogy at the end of the chapter!

Though July brought even warmer weather, more frequent visits to and from Ginny's, and a half dozen games of football; it also brought a chill that filled Number 14, Spinner's End like a void. Hermione couldn't place why she felt herself slowly drifting away into solitude more often than not, but she did. Her light hearted banter with her father had become significantly less frequent, and she found herself pulling away from visits with Julie as well.

If she had to try and pick a reason, she supposed it was at least started by the night in London. But, of course, she felt that there was more to it than even that.

And, given her father's over-protective, nearly over-bearing nature, she wasn't surprised that it worried him. Mostly, his worry showed in small doses in his mannerisms; he would ask how she was feeling, or offer to take her to Diagon Alley, or some such fatherly gesture. He even went so far as to assist Mr. Weasley in securing enough tickets for the Quidditch World Cup.

The young teenager watched her father worry a groove into the flooring everyday, and watched him pull open his liquor cabinet every night. The only thing she refused to watch, was the fighting. And the dark, Slytherin part of her mind laughed at his desperate attempt to have her open up; he sent her to a shrink.

Severus supposed he really shouldn't have been surprised, when Julie called him. He did know his daughter rather well, and she wasn't one to be tricked into anything; he just had not expected the raving psychiatrist to attack him the moment he stepped into the muggle office building. He paid no mind to her ranting, however, after having had to deal with Burbage's ranting all of the prior year, and made her direct him to her office.

When he opened the door, he found his daughter reclined in a puce coloured chair, with her arms folded behind her head.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the wall, before the door opened. She could tell, by the nearly inaudible steps that it was her father who entered. The Slytherin voice in her mind congratulated her sarcastically for being able to pick out the sound of her father's footsteps, but she squashed it, and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"Hullo father," She greeted dully, feeling rather drained. Her earlier energy, used to torment the psychiatrist, had been wiped out of her while she had sat alone in thought. "How are you feeling?" His voice was stiff, and she shrugged. "I'm fine." The reply was automatic, and made him frown. "I heard you refused to speak to the healer." He was angry, she could tell, that she had resisted. "Why should I talk to her? All she wants is gossip to spread. She doesn't understand, and it's not like I can even tell her anything really, she's a muggle."

Severus gripped his knees tightly with his hands, watching his daughter stare empathetically at the wall, "Hermione, you have to stop this." He had watched and waited, patiently hoping she would snap out of it on her own. He had wanted to act well before this point, of course, but Julie had convinced him that all the young girl needed was time; however he was out of time. Draco would be coming in two days, and he didn't particularly want this to be a way for the two to bond.

Hermione shrugged off her father's words, and let her arms fall into her lap. "I don't know what you mean." She was lying, he knew, but it was apparent that nothing was going to be sorted out in this situation. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Hermione." The teen snorted and turned to give her father a flat look, "Either you are spending too much time with Julie, or she is spending too much time with you." "Or you are hiding too many things." Her father shot back, and she rolled her eyes, feeling annoyance bubble up inside of her.

"Of course I want to keep things to myself, I'm a teenager now. So can we go home?" She felt a twinge of guilt as her father pursed his lips and nodded stiffly. She wanted to be able to talk to him, she didn't like keeping things inside, but she didn't want him to remember to ask her about the bullies at school, and she wasn't sure he'd quite understand. She wanted to deal with people like that alone, she wanted to be stronger, and respected like Harry was; disregarding the fact that anything out of place at the school was generally blammed on her friend.

Severus pulled the door to the healer's office open, gesturing with his head that she was free to go home. He watched her stroll out into the lobby, and up to Julie, and wondered what had happened to his easy-to-handle daughter.

Julie sat on the floor basking in the glow of the fire in Severus' study, "I told you, she'll talk about whatever it is when she is ready." He grunted in reply from his seat behind his desk, swirling his glass of firewhiskey. "Why the rush to get her to open up anyway?" She twisted a lock of her straight brown hair around her fingers as she turned to look up at him. He didn't reply right away, but the sour look on his face made it very clear. "You've got to be kidding me." She stood up, and sauntered over to his desk, leaning onto the smooth surface so she was eye level with him, "This has something to do with Draco's visit, doesn't it?"

He took a swig of his firewhiskey and broke eye contact, looking towards the fireplace, "Perhaps." He didn't want to admit his concerns for the closeness between the two. Though, as Julie laughed tauntingly at his evasive behaviour, he wondered if he ought to say something about his concerns.

"How bad could it really be? They're too young for all that, and to the best of your knowledge, there are no feelings on either side pointing to that." She straightened and walked away from the desk, stopping in front of the window. He followed her movements with his eyes and debated only a moment before joining her by the window, glass in hand. Julie scrunched her nose as she was assaulted by the scent of the whiskey, and let out a sigh. "You know, you drink a lot."

Severus looked between the glass in his hand and the woman beside him, she had never before complained about his drinking, though he did suppose that he drank more often than most. He had always justified it to himself by remembering he lived a stressful life; though he had not been a drinker before the end of the war. "I suppose." He drawled, raising the heavy crystal glass to take another sip.

Julie watched the motion with mild irritation; "I'm not sure it sets a good example," she pushed, tilting her head ever so slightly in the direction of Hermione's room on the floor above. "You don't want her to pick up on it, do you?" Severus snorted in amusement at the very thought; if Hermione could get into his liquor cabinet, she deserved a drink. He was a former death eater and spy; his paranoia had him locking up anything he consumed in highly warded cabinets. His liquor cabinet, for example, was nearly invisible, and heavily locked.

"If she somehow finds her way into the cabinet, she's earned the right to have a drink." He couldn't fight the urge to smirk as he said this, though when he caught the disapproving look on her face out of the corner of his eye, he placed his cup on the edge of his desk, "You could open it right in front of her and she wouldn't know where it is." He clarified, trying to appease the pregnant woman.

Julie would not be swayed however, "She already knows where it is, you do realize? She takes after you more than you seem to care to notice –" "I care to notice plenty." He snapped, picking up his glass once more, before leaving his study. Julie followed him out into the living area, arms crossed firmly over her chest, "If you notice so much, why are you still keeping this farce of a 'secret', when the only idiots who don't know are the ones happier to believe she's muggle born?"

He froze in place at the bottom of the stairs, his hand gripping the banister fiercely, "The only reason there has ever been for this farce, is Hermione's safety. There is great deal of pureblood death eaters who would love to get their hands on her. Her mother was a favourite of the dark lord; and she exists only because of this fact." He didn't care to remember this, now that he had grown so fond of his daughter. He certainly wished he could make life simpler, and just give up the pretence, but even Dumbledore was against the idea.

Julie watched him climb the stairs, tears of anger burning behind her eyes; she blamed his drinking for having started the fight, and her hormones for having pushed it into dangerous waters. She grabbed her cloak from the hall closet and left, grateful for the moment to have her own room to retreat to. As she stepped into her sparsely furnished home, she placed a hand delicately over her slightly protruding stomach, and felt the fluttering movements of her baby.

She wondered what things were going to be like down the road, when the child was born. She knew Severus wouldn't give up his teaching post, and she would be alone for most of the school year, raising a child that would wonder if it even had a father. She made her way upstairs with a sigh and stepped into the room that had been designated for the baby, to find Hermione sitting cross-legged on the floor with her broom by her side. "Hey kiddo," Julie whispered, taking a seat beside her young sister, "what's up?"

The bushy haired fourteen-year-old shrugged, "I heard you guys fighting, again." Ever since Julie had moved into the house next door, (after her late night adventure in London,) Hermione had snuck over whenever she could hear raised voices; something which had been occurring more and more. She would always come into the baby's room, and try to imagine what it would be like when her brother or sister was finally born.

"Oh, sorry about that," Julie swiped at the tears threatening to spill from her green eyes, and Hermione caught the gesture out of the corner of her eyes, "I caused this one; didn't I?" Silence fell between them, and Hermione hung her head in guilt, "Well, at least you can take comfort, knowing it's not your fault you and him fight so much; it's mine."

The thirty-one year old jerked and spun around to face the younger girl, "Don't say that, 'mione, it's not your fault when we fight." The fourteen year old shook her head, "it's okay, Julie, I'm not daft. I'm just sorry I've always caused you so many problems. Sometimes I wish I was a muggle." She paused, but not long enough for Julie to come back at her with anything, "Then things would be simple, you know. No double life, no secrets. But I'll be seventeen soon, and then I can go live in whatever way I wish."

"Hermione, you're only fourteen –" "I should only be thirteen. I'm fifteen in September, there's no changing what I did last year and all I can do to make peace with it, is think of how I can leave behind the places I cause problems that much sooner." Her words hung between them in the silence for what felt like an hour, before either moved. "I think you should talk to Severus," Julie said softly, as she got to her feet once more, "that's all he wants. For you to confide in him like you used to." She took slow steps out of the room, pausing in the door way to say, "I think you should talk to him about Draco too. He's building up this horror story in his head."

Hermione shrugged from her place on the floor, "We'll see." "You've always been so grown up; maybe it's time to be a kid?" The young brunette watched her sister leave down the hall and collected her comet two sixty into her hands, before clamouring to her feet. Julie was right, and she needed to talk to her father the way she used to.

Breakfast was deathly quiet the next morning, the way it tended to be after her father and Julie fought. The only sound in the kitchen, aside from the scrapping of utensils on plates, was the steady ticking of the wall clock.

Hermione mentally debated starting a conversation now, when she could escape outside if it went awry, but thought better of it. There was a dark cloud hovering around her father, making him feel ominous and unapproachable. She decided to settle for making small talk instead, asking when he was expecting Draco to be on his way over. "This afternoon. His father will be dropping him off. Where will you be?"

"Football." She was eternally grateful that she had an actual excuse to be out of the house today. She didn't feel like hiding while Lucius Malfoy was on the premise. She picked at the remaining food on her plate as her father fell silent once again. Suddenly, she threw down her utensils, and stood from her chair, "I was almost attacked by a werewolf in London." She felt a weight lift off her shoulders; she had refused, after returning home, to tell anyone what had happened. It had been the start of their drifting apart.

Severus nearly choked on his toast at her outburst, and as soon as he could speak, he was at a loss for words. "I got pulled onto the knight bus before it could attack." She watched his shoulders relax slightly, and let out a sigh of relief. She was glad she had finally told him. "It's killing me that I'll be fifteen in September, but I'm glad at the same time because it means I'll be old enough to be on my own sooner too. As soon as I'm seventeen I'll move out, and you and Julie can be together without fighting over me."

Her confessions hung in the air between them, as Severus slowly stood from his chair. For a few, horrifying moments, she thought he was going to leave the room without acknowledging what she had said. Her fears were pushed aside, however, as he stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders softly. "We're not fighting because of you." He said firmly, looking her straight in the eyes, "It's true you do come up, when we fight, but you're never the cause."

"That's what Julie says too." She admitted, "And she's right. Don't blame yourself, and don't worry about your age. By the end of your fourth year, everyone will be fifteen, and most will be fourteen before the start. This is why I took the time-turner." She offered him a weak smile, remembering their discussion in his office when she had been released from the hospital wing, also remembering she had one more teeny, tiny thing to talk to him about. Draco.

She opened her mouth to bring the topic around to where she needed it to be, when Julie walked into the house, announcing her presence. It was reassuring, the way her father smirked at the sound of her older sister's voice, and the fourteen-year-old took the chance to escape discussing her own pathetic love life with her father, "I should go get ready for football practice." She ducked around him and bolted for the stairs, pausing to give Julie a thumbs up, to signify her father's good mood.

Draco Malfoy awoke on July fifteenth, to find his mother bustling around his room, filling a duffle bag with clothes. He sat up in bed, watching in groggy confusion as his mother tucked an envelope into a side pocket, humming a Celestina Warbeck song he was thankful he couldn't name. "Mother?" He stepped out of bed as his mother turned to face him with a rather uncharacteristic smile, "Oh good, you're awake. You'd best get ready." He blinked in confusion, but made his way into his private bathroom, where he found a set of clothes already hanging from the back of the door.

By the time he was dressed and ready, though still not sure what he had been told to get ready for, his mother had left his room, and the duffle bag she had been filling was gone with her. He looked around, taking in the mess she had left behind; there were dress robes all over the floor, his broom was missing, and his school books were everywhere, meaning that wherever he was going, he was going to have to do his summer homework there.

He rolled his eyes as he left his room, and snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf to clean the mess his mother had made. With that taken care of, he strolled down the hall, ignoring the portraits on the wall as they sneered about his posture, he could damn well slouch if he wanted to. By the time he reached the first floor; his room being in the upper most corridor of the manor by his own request, he could hear the voices of his mother and Pansy, gossiping in the sitting room.

Knowing that his father was probably in there as well, he straightened his shoulders and squared off his chin, and entered the room as regally as he could manage. His efforts were not wasted, as he saw the approving look on his father's face, as well as his aunt and uncle's as they looked at him from the couch they were sitting on.

"Good morning," he drawled, offering a slight bow in the direction of his father's sister and her husband, and nodding slightly in the direction of his cousin. "There has been a change in our plans, Draco." Narcissa said, sweeping to her feet, and gesturing openly towards his aunt and uncle, "Larissa and Christophe have decided to come along with Lucius and I. So we will be dropping both you and Pansy off with your godfather this afternoon."

He could tell, by the tense expression on his mother's face that she was as of yet unaware that Pansy already knew about Hermione. He would have been only too happy to tell her himself, if he thought for even a moment that he could do so without his father over hearing. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was all set up by his father, whom had been asking many suspicious questions about the Potions Master over the last month.

Lucius stood in front of the fire grate in his study, with his younger sister, whom he had never been particularly fond of, and her husband seated not far away. "You're absolutely sure?" He asked, swirling a glass of amber coloured brandy with his slender fingers. "Absolutely." Christophe replied in a lazy drawl, before draining his own glass of brandy.

Lucius swept over to his desk, and pulled open a hidden drawer, smirking at the contents. "How many?" He spun around to face his brother in law, "At least twenty." "Excellent. This should prove to be entertaining."

Severus was, not surprisingly, brewing a potion when Lucius stepped out of his grate, with Draco and Pansy not far behind. The potions master arched a single eyebrow at the presence of the blonde girl, though he locked his gaze on Lucius quickly, and offered him a very tense greeting.

"Good afternoon Severus," Lucius drawled, looking about the small room with distaste, "I do hope it isn't muchof an inconvenience, however, my dear sister and her husband have decided to join us. I offered for Pansy to come stay here with Draco." He watched the dark haired man closely as he spoke, though Severus gave him nothing. "Very well, I will simply have another bed made up."

It was tense and silent for a moment, as Lucius tried to find anything to support his theory which had led to him inviting his blasted sister on his trip in the first place. He grew frustrated as he realized that his effort had been for naught. He spun of his heel and was gone without a farewell.

"What is he up to?" Severus turned his eyes on his godson, who only shrugged. "I've no idea. I only found out this morning. Mother nearly had a heart attack, though, when we left." Draco dropped his duffle bag on the floor, only to have his godfather send him a dirty look, "You know where your room is Draco. Take Pansy up to Hermione's room, I need to go speak with someone. Hermione is at the park, you may go there if you like."

Draco rolled his eyes as he picked his bag back up off the floor and led Pansy out of the study and up the stairs. "Pink room on the left, for you. Go put on something muggle." His cousin gave him a blank stare and folded her arms over her chest, "I don't own anything muggle." She said, making him groan. "Then look through her drawers for something to borrow; I'm sure she won't care." He disappeared into his usual room before she could say anything else, and threw his bag down on the cot which had been set up for him.

He had been looking forward to his visit here, until now. Summer was his only break from his annoying cousin; mostly because his father hated his sister and her husband, almost more than he hated muggles. The blonde boy opened his bag and dug deep down, until he could feel the heavy material of his jeans; which he assumed his mother had packed after his father had a house elf pack only robes. He changed quickly, and found a tee shirt, buried way down at the bottom as well, and stepped out into the hall with a pair of trainers in his hands. "Pansy!" He called out; noticing that the door to Hermione's room was still closed, "Hurry up!"

Pansy opened the door, and stepped into the hallway, wearing a dress that left her cousin gaping silently for several moments. "Was that in Hermione's dresser?" He stuttered after he regained his voice, blushing slightly at the thought of the bushy haired Gryffindor girl wearing it instead of Pansy. It was bright pink, and fell down around her knees, with a bright white ribbon tied around her waist. "I know, I was shocked too! It's so cute!" Pansy spun herself around, enjoying the light, flowing material, a pair of wedge sandals in her hands. "We have the same sized feet, too. She has pretty good taste."

Draco frowned slightly, not wanting to point out to his cousin that she looked ridiculous in bright pink, and started for the stairs, "Right, let's go then. Uncle probably won't be back for a while."

End chapter five!

Okay, first of all, sorry it's been...er, what, like two weeks? Maybe three? I forget, honestly.

I admit I was distracted by LinkXSheik shounen ai for a bit...as I've mentioned already, and am working on a few plot bunnies for them myself.

Sorry.

I'm getting back into the swing of A Girl Named Hermione Granger, though, so don't fret. I wouldn't dare leave you all hanging walf-way through.

Another reason for my delay in posting: Doctor's appointments. I mentioned before the possibility of a bleeding ulcer, and we're still looking into that. I've been having blood tests, ecg's, ultrasounds, and much more to come yet, and of course weekly visits for test results. Let's just say, I'm so glad to be Canadian right now. I love you, MSP. I would never be able to afford all this on my own. And if I had to pay for the stomach scope, I'd rather risk whatever my options are. Seriously.

But, that's not what you all want to hear me talk about. I have plenty of idea's for this year still, and I edited the opening of this chapter quite a bit just now. The original opening sucked. Seriously. This one is much better. Although, I had thought this was the one with the Dramione in it, it's in the next chapter. Oh well, I promise to post it by the end of the week at the latest, okay? And I'll re-read it to make sure it's the most fluffy, adorable, perfect first romance-type scene between them, ever.

Now, about the world cup; I'm not going to lie, it's a daunting chapter to write, and I'm not sure how much I can do for it. I've written forty pages for this story already and I'd like them to be at Hogwarts before I reach a hundred. So...don't kill me...but I may just cut it for now, and do filler flash-backs later. I think it would even out the gaps nicely. Because aside from S.P.E.W. Hermione doesn't have too huge a roll in Goblet of Fire. And I can only add so much fluffy Dramione moments, and so much Snape-worried-shitless-over-voldemort. I'll be trying my best to make the story work. And if I skip the world cup right now, I can get back to writing like crazy again.

One last thing: if, part way through chapter seven or the start of chapter eight, you see a shift in the over-all writing style, that's my bad. My A.G.N.H.G. series is written much lighter than my Legend of Zelda stories, and some of the dark over-tone may carry over. I'll try to keep it going as is though.