Pity followed her like an annoying puppy dog. It was there in Ginny's voice, there in Harry's eyes, in the face of everyone she saw, and most recently, it was in Kingsley's tone of voice.
As he spoke, she could practically see the sickening pity dripping from his words. Completely and utterly saturated. Or perhaps she was imagining it. Maybe there was no pity, but rather something else, something worse than pity. Something like defeat.
"I know you're right," he said, fixing his stare at Hermione. He was almost beseeching her. "I do. But you have to know that coming to me is useless. The only thing blocking your way to an army of Aurors is the Court."
"I know," said Hermione bitterly. "But they won't listen."
"What I don't understand," said Kingsley slowly, "is why you aren't gone already. What's stopping you?"
"Fear," answered Hermione without hesitation. "I don't have a plan. I don't know what I'm going to do. The only lead I have is what country they're in."
"Do you really think a group of Aurors would have any more idea than you?"
Hermione smiled faintly. "Are you giving me permission to do this, Minister?"
"Think of it as me simply being so busy being Minister that I didn't know anything was going on," answered Kingsley, reshuffling the parchments on his desk. His eyes met Hermione's, as if daring her to contradict him.
"You know it's a suicide mission," said Hermione bluntly. "Even if I make it back alive, it's unlikely anyone else will."
"I know you well enough to know that if you make it back alive, then everyone will."
Hermione couldn't think of anything to say, so she just glared at him. She didn't even know why she was saying what she was saying.
"Draco might not even be alive." It was a mission to get the words out. The name stuck in her throat as if it were made of thorns.
"You'll take that risk?" asked Kingsley sceptically. And just like that, he finally cornered her. They were playing a game Hermione didn't (or wouldn't) understand and she had lost. Hermione refused to say anything, anything at all that could indicate her loss.
Kingsley stared at her with a quizzical expression, his eyes betraying no other inner emotion.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"Doing what?"
When Kingsley didn't reply, the answer was clear. She exhaled loudly and blinked rapidly. And suddenly, appearing just as quickly as the game itself had: the point of the game. Neither of them spoke for an unmeasurable amount of time. The tension in the room thickened noticeably and understanding buzzed between them, strong as an ox. Hermione's mind was racing. She knew what he was going to say, and already her hand was itching towards her wand. If Kingsley were going to say what she thought he was, then she would need back up, and quickly.
The silence was pierced by the sound of paper being rustled. Levitated by a wand, a small slip of parchment floated towards Hermione. As it got nearer, her anticipation spiked.
"Give this to her secretary. Tell them I sent you, they won't object."
Hermione loosened her iron grip on her wand. She took and held the slip of parchment in her fist with gratitude. Her eyes met Kingsley's, and she briefly wondered if she was ever going to see Kingsley ever again. Hermione wanted to express her immense appreciation, but there weren't words with a large enough meaning. He seemed to understand well enough however.
Without another word, Hermione turned and left, holding on the slip of parchment as if her life depended on it. Just one more thing, she thought determinedly. One last thing to do.
Afterwards, she found herself standing outside the Potter home. She could hear voices from inside. It sounded like Ron was there, and Luna. Steeling herself for what was waiting, she knocked on the door twice.
A barely showing pregnant Ginny answered the door. Her smile was tired. "Come in," she chimed, ever so slightly frenzied, "We need to talk." The door swung shut with a slam, blasting Hermione with a gust of wind. Trembling slightly, Ginny led the way to the living room. The room, previously humming with a quiet buzz of noise, fell silent. Three pairs of eyes swung towards her. Hermione suddenly felt nervous.
Finally, she cleared her throat and said quietly, "I think you all know why I'm here." Hermione slid into the seat next to Luna and felt everyone watching her. Harry dropped his eyes and blushed. Ron gaze was steady and fierce. Ginny folded her arms as she crossed the room to sit next to Harry.
"We're in," said Ron. His blue eyes locked with Hermione's brown.
"What took so long with Kingsley?" asked Luna.
"I tried to convince myself out of it," Hermione said bluntly. She looked down at the slip of parchment still clutched tightly in her fist and frowned. Hermione didn't look away from the piece of parchment until she finished explaining. She watched Ginny's face deepened through varying degrees of wary unhappiness.
Ron said, "Let me get this straight. Kingsley says the Court can go fuck themselves, and then he gave you something for the Italian Minister so you can take a look at their residency records to find your... beloved."
Hermione grimaced at the subtle bitterness in Ron's voice, but she nodded, clamping her teeth down on her bottom lip. Her unspoken plea hung in the air like wet clothing. She looked around at each person cautiously. The fact that all of them might never return weighed in on her mind painfully. Her heart sank even further when she remembered Ginny was responsible for another life. Absolutely not, her mind murmured firmly. Hermione's eyes seemed to be magnetically attracted to the subtle bump underneath Ginny's shirt. Not again. Not again. The phrase swirled around her mind, until everything she had repeated the truth back and forth. The more time passed, the more Hermione regretted asking in the first place.
"Ginny will have to stay back of course," Hermione said softly, fearing an outburst. All signs of a Ginny Attack occurred in an instant: widened eyes, sudden clenching of fists, and the dangerous flashing in her face.
"I will do what?" Ginny asked, strained.
"Harry will back me up," Hermione exclaimed. "The risks-"
"I will be fine!" Ginny said loudly. She silenced Harry with a glare. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm useless!"
"You won't be useless," Hermione soothed. "Someone has to stay behind to alert more Aurors once we're gone."
"Why?" Ginny demanded.
"We might need back up," Hermione answered. "I don't know if we can do it alone, and I don't think any of us fancies being the ones to take them in."
"Why me?" Ginny cried. Hermione could not get the words out. They stuck in her throat like glue. She could not find the words to express her terror at that moment.
"You're not only responsible for your own life Ginny, but your baby's. If anything happened to it, would you forgive yourself?" Luna said softly, but firmly. Hermione dropped her eyes to the floor, face burning. She could feel everyone's eyes on her again. It felt she was constantly standing in the spotlight. When she looked up, all the anger had melted away from Ginny's face just to be replaced with pity. More pity.
"I don't want it to happen to you," Hermione said. Finally, Ginny nodded. Hermione let out a sigh of relief.
"It's settled then," Harry said. He stood and stretched. Harry looked down at his wife and gripped her shoulder. Ginny was clearly unhappy about staying back. "Ron, Luna and I will go with you." Hermione cast a glance at Ron, and was glad to see agreement written on his face. She suddenly felt obliged to say something.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to," she said quickly. "It's just... it would be really nice if you did."
"You don't have to ask," Ron said lowly. "You never have to ask."
Hermione smiled, warmth rushing through her like a river. She hated what she had to say next.
"But there's something... else," Hermione said haltingly. Four pairs of eyes swivelled and focused on her, half of them afraid and the other half exasperated. Hermione really did not want to tell them. "Since we're going to Italy... and none of us can really speak Italian fluently..."
"Hermione, you didn't," Luna whispered.
"The most Italian I can speak is a few halting words and phrases," Hermione said sharply. "Not nearly enough."
"Am I... missing something here?" Harry asked confusedly. Ron nodded, both wearing identical masks of confusion.
Hermione would have laughed, except it wasn't funny.
"She asked-" Luna began, glaring at Hermione.
"I asked Blaise Zabini to come with us," Hermione interrupted harshly.
The silence was deafening.
Then, suddenly, she was hit with a tidal wave of noise and questions, from all four of them.
"Oh, God... why?" That was Harry.
"Are you kidding me?" Ron.
"Zabini's not the only Italian speaking person in the world, Hermione!" Luna's voice was high and trembly.
"You dumped me for Blaise Zabini?" Ginny's screech.
"How do you know we can trust him?" Ron challenged.
"Oh, God... why?" Harry's head was in his hands.
"Please, not Zabini," Luna begged. It was peculiar to see Luna so distressed.
The four of them kept asking and begging and demanding and yelling until, "QUIET!" sliced through the air. Breathing heavily, Hermione jumped up and glared at her friends. They all fell silent, looking strangely like little children about to be reprimanded.
"I asked him to come along because we need him. He knows Theodore Nott better than any of us, he can speak fluent Italian and he knows where we can hide. I trust him, because he wants to..." -she waited, thinking of the right words to say –"...help as well."
"I don't like this," Ron said instantly, shaking his head. He peered up at Hermione, asking, "Are you sure about him?"
"As sure as I can be."
Luna uttered a low groan, and bit her lip. Definitely strange, thought Hermione. Since when is Luna ever this upset? But there was no time for dwelling. Hermione was all too aware of how much time was being wasted.
"Don't be upset, but he's coming here. Any second now," Hermione said. The tension thickened noticeably as two quiet knocks sounded.
"Bloody hell, here we go," breathed Ron. Thinking it was better for everyone, Hermione went to let Zabini in.
Dressed suavely in a dark grey suit, he inclined his head. "Miss Granger."
"Blaise," Hermione quipped. Her voice echoed as she led him into the living room. "Dressed a little formally, don't you think?"
"This? I just threw this on. Rather fits the occasion, don't you think?"
Blaise did not sit down when they entered the living room, which made him look even more peculiar in contrast with the group. Hermione couldn't help but notice how Blaise seemed to be unable to look away from Luna.
Embarrassed and painfully reminded of when a different boy used to look at her like that, Hermione looked away and cleared her throat.
"Now that we're all here," she said, "We need a plan."
The next morning, the six of them assembled in the backyard of Harry and Ginny's house. Ginny was crying, which was a rare sight. She was saying thickly through sobs, "How am I going to explain to Baby that Daddy might not come home?" Her hand that wasn't clasped in Harry's held her stomach protectively. Then Harry pulled her in and Hermione turned away.
To distract herself, Hermione said to Blaise, "When do you think we can go?"
"Right about now is good," he said. "The faster we leave, the better. Don't forget, Nott has friends everywhere."
Hearing this, Ginny turned away from Harry noisily, looking most unlike her usual self. Seeing Ginny cry like that made Hermione deeply uncomfortable.
"It's time," Ron said, his voice sounding strange. Suddenly, a cold breeze wafted over, causing Hermione to shiver and pull her coat tighter around her.
Everyone except Ginny shuffled closer together, creating a tight circle with Blaise in the middle. Without hesitation, Hermione grabbed his hand that was closest and looked around her. Harry and Ron had both placed a hand on either one of Blaise's shoulders. Luna, most grudgingly, held Blaise's other hand.
Satisfied that everyone was ready to go, Hermione readjusted her beaded bag in her coat pocket that safely contained everything that everyone needed, and turned her eyes to Ginny.
She was no longer crying, but instead had the most desolate air about her. Ginny had earlier voiced her strong belief in everyone's survival, but now she gave the deep impression of something else entirely.
There was no noise except the leaves rustling in the breeze. There was officially nothing stopping them from leaving right then and there, except fear.
Just when the tension was getting completely unbearable, Luna said irritably, "Can we just go?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes and stared at Luna, mystified at her unusual behaviour. Her confusion transferred to the back of her mind however, when she was reminded of a sobering fact. She still hadn't gotten her notes back yet. Exactly how long does it take for a Court to 'examine' something?
"I agree," said Ron. Harry said nothing.
"Then let's do this," said Blaise simply.
"I'll be back soon," whispered Harry, having eyes only for Ginny. She didn't reply, only nodded.
Not wanting to see any more tears, Hermione squeezed Blaise's hand to offer her support.
First there was Ginny's mournful face, already looking as if she had lost everything she ever had, then it was a blur accompanied by the familiar bone-crushing sensation that Hermione somehow associated with being on the receiving end of one of Hagrid's hugs, a sensation Hermione thought she had gotten used to, though she had never Apparated or been taken on Side-Along-Apparition for such a distance.
Just when Hermione's lungs felt on the brink of collapsing, it was over. Hermione, disorientated from the distance, blinked several times to get her vision straight.
Ron asked wearily, "Ugh... where are we?"
Hermione slipped her hand from Blaise's and looked around her. They were in a little deserted tavern. The only other person in the room that Hermione didn't recognise was the elderly bartender who seemed unfazed by their sudden appearance. The only light provided in the room streamed in from the roof windows.
"Lovely," Luna commented dryly.
"Who is he?" Harry asked, nodding towards the man.
"An old friend of my mother's," Blaise answered. "It's fine, he won't say anything." Without any more explanation, he sauntered towards the bar, his hands casually placed in his pockets.
Hermione exhaled loudly and dropped down at a nearby table, twirling her wand absently in her hand. The air was punctuated with the sound of chairs scraping across the wooden floor as the others, excluding Blaise, joined her.
"You're making it snow Hermione," said Ron tiredly, resting his head on his arms. "I hate Apparating now."
"Now?" Harry mumbled, sweeping snow off his shoulder. "I've always hated Apparating."
"That was awful," Hermione agreed, waving the snow away. She looked over her shoulder at Blaise and the old man who seemed to be quietly conversing in Italian. It sounded like Blaise was reassuring the old man.
"When are we going to the Ministry?" Harry asked. He too took his wand out. "Surely, we're wasting more time."
"We're not all going," answered Luna. "It would be way too suspicious. Especially since Nott has people everywhere."
"I'm going with Blaise," Hermione announced firmly, straightening up.
"No you're not," Luna shot back. "Out of all of us, you're the one who shouldn't go the most. The less anyone knows about this, the better."
Hermione winced as the sound of another chair being pulled up sliced through the air.
Blaise said, "Good to go."
"I wouldn't mind coming here every now and then," Harry sighed, swinging his legs onto the chair.
"The benefits of owning a holiday villa in Italy," Hermione remarked, staring at the room surrounding her. It was remarkably similar to the Malfoy Manor in design, except the heavy Slytherin colours were replaced with light creamy colours and the holiday villa wasn't as spacious as the Manor but it was still larger than the average house. It was exceptionally clean and shiny and new in a way that made Hermione slightly afraid. It didn't seem to be the case with the boys though. They were lounging around making themselves comfortable on expensive-looking furniture that looked like no one had ever sat in it before.
"Don't get too comfortable," Hermione warned, grimacing slightly. "Blaise and Luna won't take very long."
"What's the action plan then?" Ron asked a little sarcastically, not meeting Hermione's eyes, "After?"
Hermione was stumped.
"Then we do what we came here to do," Harry responded absently, focusing on twirling his wand around. He, thankfully, didn't produce any snow.
Ron didn't offer any more protests, and the trio settled into an uneasy silence. Harry was producing mini fireworks, his face deep in thought, no doubt, about Ginny. Ron simply sat in his seat and held his head in his hands, giving off the impression of sleeping, but Hermione knew better.
The tension became unthinkable. Hermione couldn't stand much more, so she slipped out the side door and stepped onto the balcony. She knew she probably shouldn't be standing so vulnerably out in the open, but the breeze felt so good.
Draco's around here.
The thought sliced through her like a sword, leaving her shuddering and shaking behind. It hadn't occurred to her before, she was so preoccupied with getting herself and her friends to safety, she hadn't felt the full impact of the fact that she was in Rome, and maybe he was in Rome, maybe they were in Rome together-
Hermione closed her eyes against the rush of memories that threatened to overpower her. She hadn't been overwhelmed by her own mind in a long time, due to all the stress and the worrying. But it was so easy to feel good there, with the warm Italian sun bathing her and the whispery breeze brushing itself against her body. It was so easy to let her guard down. So she did.
It wasn't clear at what point reality blended with a memory, when the breeze against her skin turned into the whisper of the boy she loved, when the warmth of the sun transformed into a duvet cover, but as it became more and more concrete, Hermione found she did not have to strength to stop.
"Wouldn't you love to travel the continent?" His words were wings against her skin, leaving goose bumps behind.
"I've been to France. It's enough for me."
"Well have you been to any others? Italy? Ireland? Spain?"
"I went to Ireland once for a cousin's wedding anniversary," she said dismissively.
"And the others?" he pressed.
"What about them?" she asked defensively.
"Don't you want to see the world?"
Hermione giggled, surprising herself. She couldn't help it. The scene was so bizarre. Draco Malfoy: wannabe globetrotter.
She told him just that, and then it was his turn to laugh. "I just think it'll be nice to get out of England. Be nice to go somewhere where no one knows who you are. What you've done."
Though it was unintentional, the mood darkened and the tension thickened considerably.
Grimacing, Hermione said, "Not the case for me."
Draco was silent. "When do you want to go down to breakfast?" he finally asked.
"Not yet," she said. "Not yet."
"Will they be suspicious?"
"Why? They'll probably assume I fell asleep in the library or something."
"Don't you want to tell them?" asked Draco abruptly.
"Well, would you tell your friends?" Hermione countered flatly, refusing to meet his eyes, "If you had the chance?"
"I've had the chance everyday, darling," he answered a little sarcastically. "Does it look like I've said anything?"
Hermione paused, thinking of another worrying topic. "I heard some talk about us yesterday."
"Millicent Bulstrode?" he asked, smirking, "I heard it too. But Millicent Bulstrode's been full of shit since fourth year; I don't think she's a threat."
Hermione had earlier protested against leaving their little sanctuary for the chaotic Great Hall but there was no hint of protest when she suddenly leapt up from the bed and started getting dressed, with a very panicky air about her.
"What is it?" Draco asked, no longer smirking.
"We've got half an hour until first period," she almost shrieked, whilst trying unsuccessfully to pull her sweater on.
"How do you know?"
"Your watch on the table," she replied, now hastily pulling up her tights. There was little dialogue exchanged due to their panic. Hermione's brain was whirring. Harry and Ron would be wondering right about now.
"I'll go out first," Hermione said, emitting a little gasp as her wand tugged painfully at her excruciatingly messy hair. Draco made a sound of agreement somewhere behind her.
Once her hair was looking mildly presentable, her attention was turned to her uniform, which was horribly crinkled. When her wand was finished acting as an iron, Hermione stared into the mirror and saw more or less, the girl she had been before she went seeking for an escape in Draco Malfoy's arms.
Breaking Hermione from her thoughts, Draco stumbled out of the bathroom, looking sexily dishevelled. His toothbrush was still hanging out the corner of his mouth as he nodded his approval of Hermione's appearance.
She was strangely nervous sitting on the bed that was still warm. It definitely wasn't from the sneaking out she was about to do. It definitely wasn't her first time jumping from being in love with Draco Malfoy to the normalcy of her general life.
When Draco finally came out of the bathroom looking presentable, he had a smile ready for her. Together, they preformed their usual ritual: make the bed, retrieve their possessions and make it look as if no one had been there.
Upon nearing the door, Hermione cast one more look behind her at the room, and then back to Draco. They had little time left before they had to go back to hating each other. She hesitated slightly before opening the door. Her palm was resting on the doorknob; she just couldn't muster the strength to open it.
"I would go with you," she said abruptly, staring at Draco.
"What?"
"I would go to Italy with you, Draco," she said simply, before she turned the doorknob and stepped out in the seventh floor corridor.
The memory melted away at the same pace it had arrived. One moment Hermione was eighteen again and in a whirlwind affair, and then she was twenty-five again, standing on the balcony of Blaise Zabini's holiday villa, and Draco was nowhere to be seen. And someone seemed to be calling out to her from behind.
"Are you deaf?" asked someone angrily. "OI, HERMIONE. WAKE. UP. THEY ARE BACK."
Hermione turned around. They were indeed back. Forgive me, she thought, as she left the balcony and her memories.
"Sorry," she said airily, as she stepped into the room. "Daydreaming."
"We got it," Luna said excitedly. She was beaming, and it was the first time Hermione had seen her wear anything but a frown on her face since Blaise joined the party. "We got it, we got it, we got it!"
"It wasn't easy though," Blaise added, wincing.
"I suppose its good that the Italian Ministry is so protective of its witches and wizards," Luna said thoughtfully. "They wouldn't even let us talk to the Minister's secretary until we shoved that note from Kingsley in their faces."
"What are you waiting for then?" Harry demanded. "Give us a look!"
Hermione watched Luna walk over to Harry and Ron, passing over the small slip of parchment that had an address on it, and she found that half of her did not want to know what was written. Ron looked up at her expectedly, his face shining with knowledge that half of Hermione did not ever want to know. Soon, Harry looked up with almost the same look on his face and Hermione knew her time was up.
Her hand shook as she held it out, waiting for Luna to reach her. Butterflies fluttered restlessly in her stomach as the empty space on her outstretched palm was filled.
Edgecomb Family Villa, Sorrento
A familiar light bulb flickered brightly in her head. "I know where that is," Hermione whispered breathlessly. "I know where that is."
Sorry it took so long to get out, but better late than never right? Anyway, I thinking two more chapters? c: x
