I do not own Harry Potter or make any money off this fic. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and associates.
Dinner that evening was a disaster. Draco had fully intended to speak with her after the meal; to show off his hold over her just a teensy bit in order to advance the rumors further. It would have worked out splendidly if an evening express post hadn't arrived. There were exactly four letters in it- two went to the headmaster. The other two went to Draco and Hermione, respectively.
Hermione's face displayed some surprise, but she lifted the letter carefully and saw that it was from her parents. Her friends stared at her oddly as she turned it over and over in her hands, unwilling to open it in such mixed company. They hadn't intended for everyone to find out for another week, at least. Unfortunately, a dozen questions were tossed in her direction. It was unusual for an evening post to arrive, let alone with actual mail for students.
"Who's that from, Hermione?"
"Oh, what's that?"
"How lucky! My parents never send anything express," another student whined.
"Are you going to open it?" Harry asked. Hermione began to shake her head, but Ginny snatched the letter from her hands.
Hermione panicked. "Ginny!" she exclaimed, the blood draining from her face.
"Hmm, what on earth could your parents want that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Ginny murmured mischievously.
Hermione looked at her, eyes wide and confused. Her friend knew perfectly well what was in that letter- she'd told Ginny everything, after all. The girl was her complete confidant in the entire escapade.
Ginny winked at her. "Let's just find out, shall we?" she stage whispered, before making a show of opening the letter. Hermione realized what she was doing and lunged at her melodramatically. The other girl was saving her from opening it in public. If they pretended to have a chase, it would get them and the letter out of the hall. Ginny laughed and scooted away from her, standing up and waving the letter above her head. Hermione stood as well.
"Ginny, give me back my letter," she frowned at the other witch.
"Oh, it must be something very important indeed," the red haired girl giggled before turning and dashing away towards the entry of the great hall. Hermione made a show of glaring and calling after her before she shrugged apologetically at a confused Harry and took off after her friend.
Harry looked over to where an ashen faced Ron was sitting, ignoring his girlfriend. "Any idea what that was about, mate?" he asked him.
Ron seemed to come to and shook his head elaborately. "N-no, I have no idea. Sorry, Harry. You know Ginny, though…" He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Harry turned away and nodded, staring in the direction of where his two female friends had disappeared out into the corridor. "Yeah…not as well as I'd like to, though," he murmured before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the study schedule Hermione had given him. Was it just him, or had those two gotten even stranger and more reclusive than he'd thought they were these past few weeks? For a moment he even wondered if…no, it wasn't possible. Hermione didn't swing that way, did she? And he hoped to Merlin that Ginny didn't. Still, that would be interesting to see, wouldn't it?
He practically choked on his pumpkin juice when Ron addressed him again. "Ready for Quidditch practice, mate?"
"Er," Harry responded, hoping his face wasn't too flushed. "Yeah. Let's get out of here," he murmured, tossing his things in his bag and following the entity of Ron and Lavender. Unfortunately, the sight of their intertwined hands and arms only brought the image of his two favorite witches back to mind. He groaned. This was going to be a very long Quidditch practice, he could tell.
Across the hall, as Ginny was just tearing the letter from Hermione's hands, Draco was staring in consternation and distress at his own mail, addressed from his mother to himself. It wasn't so much that it was from his mother that surprised him- he had been rather quiet towards her lately- but the kind of mail it was that left such a red stain upon his cheeks.
It was a howler.
His mother never sent him howlers. He didn't think he'd ever received one before in his life, actually. From anybody, let alone his mother. Pansy and his fellow Slytherins were all staring down the table at him in silent horror. They knew, as well as he did, that whatever had caused his mother to send this letter, it must be very, very bad indeed. With a resolute sigh and a firm toss of his shoulders to settle his fears, he opened it. There was no escaping a howler, after all. He knew that as well as anyone.
He missed the look of horror on Professor Snape's face when the man realized what had happened. He apparently didn't know Narcissa as well as he thought he did.
And then, the entire hall went silent as her strong, angry voice filtered out over the Slytherin's heads.
"DRACO MALFOY!" she began. "OF ALL THE DESPICABLE, DESPISABLE THINGS TO DO THIS YEAR- A MUDBLOOD? PREGNANT? DID YOU THINK WITH YOUR FATHER IN PRISON THAT YOU COULD DO WHATEVER YOU LIKED THIS YEAR, THAT YOU COULD TURN YOUR BACK ON THE WAY WE RAISED YOU WITHOUT ANY FEAR OF REPURCUSSION? WHAT WOULD YOUR FATHER SAY? THE SHAME YOU HAVE BROUGHT UPON YOUR HOUSES AND YOUR FAMILY NAME IS UNBELIEVABLE- HOW COULD YOU, DRACO? DON'T YOU DARE THINK ABOUT COMING HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS THIS YEAR UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR FILTHY, SCHEMING ACTIONS! I CANNOT BELIEVE ANY SON OF MINE WOULD BEHAVE IN SUCH A DISGRACEFUL MANNER! FYE ON YOU, DRACO! FOR SHAME! OH, WOULD THAT I HAD SENT YOU TO DURMSTRANG INSTEAD- THIS WOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED- I BLAME MYSELF, SON. BUT DO NOT THINK THAT MAKES ME ANY LESS DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! SHAME! SHAME ON THE HOUSE OF BLACK, THE HOUSE OF MALFOY! WOULD THAT I WERE DEAD BEFORE I SAW SUCH A DAY! IF YOU DON'T WRITE BACK AT ONCE ASSURING ME OF YOUR UTTER AND SINCERE APOLOGY, I SHALL COME TO HOGWARTS MYSELF TO DEAL WITH THIS TART, HERMIONE GRANGER! DO YOU HEAR ME? IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, DRACO, TO BREAK YOUR POOR, SUFFERING MOTHER'S HEART WHILE YOUR FATHER WASTES INJURIOUSLY IN AZKABAN? SHAME!"
The letter finally seemed to wear itself out and then ripped itself to shreds. Draco could tell his mother had wanted to say more, but it just would've all been the same, so she clearly didn't see the point. He wondered that she had bothered to send the howler in the first place. Another part of him, of course, was extremely hurt by her response. He wondered briefly how on earth she had found out- he should have been able to ease her into the information, feed her the story he wanted to. Now his hand was forced. And for what? His protection? His own good? He didn't believe that for a second. Trying not to let her words sting him too much, he glanced up to Snape's place and saw the ashen face. So. That was how she'd found out. He suddenly felt he'd like to kill the man.
Draco noticed that silence still reigned over the hall and he looked up and down the table at all the shocked faces of his housemates. He smiled apologetically and cleared his throat delicately.
"Hmm. Sorry about that scene, everybody. I'm afraid Mother isn't feeling quite herself since Father was locked away."
One of his companions began to say something rude and another smacked him upside the head, stopping his remark. Draco raised an eyebrow in the offending boy's direction and spoke softly.
"What was that, Kischel?"
"Er, nothing, sir," the boy murmured before bounding up and away from the table as quickly as his short legs would carry him. Draco looked about himself again.
"Anything else, or shall we save the questions for later?" he asked, waving a hand dismissively. When no one spoke, he smiled tightly. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
He stood up and was about to leave the hall when a voice called across the space to him. All heads in the dining hall turned to watch the exchange.
Harry never thought he'd be so angry. He'd been about to leave after Ron when the commotion over at the Slytherin table began. And when he'd realized it was Malfoy getting reamed, well. He'd stopped to listen, just like everyone else.
Now, with rage boiling in his blood and steam coming out his ears, he called out to the other boy. He felt insane with anger over the accusations Narcissa Malfoy had flung about. That was his best friend the bitch was talking about, after all.
"Malfoy! Your mother needs to learn how to shut her lying trap!" he yelled.
Draco turned to stare at Harry, an incredulous expression on his face. He could feel the Slytherins behind him trembling with excitement.
"And your mother needs to learn how to watch her back!" he began, before allowing a smug grin to fall over his face. "Oh, wait- it's too bloody late for that."
Harry saw red. He threw down his bag of gear and was about to tear across the hall to strangle Malfoy when he felt Ron's hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, mate. It's all lies. We all know the Malfoys are nothing but a bunch of Death Eating scum. Leave it."
Harry shook off his friend's hand and stared ahead. "You heard what the bitch was saying about Hermione," he pleaded.
Ron shook his head. "Hermione can look out for herself," he remarked, trying to keep the conversation light.
Draco strode a little closer to the pair. "And, Potter- my mother may be many things, but she never tells lies."
The implication of his statement, the honesty in his eyes and the mocking grin upon his face all made Harry's anger bubble to the surface once again. This time, though, it was Ron who stepped forward. Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron had been itching to take his anger at feeling so impotent and useless out on Draco for a few weeks now; the knowledge that the best thing he could have done for his unborn child was to hand it over to a Death Eater ate at his insides like nothing else.
"Please, ferret, your mother wouldn't know the truth if she took Veritaserum."
"Are you calling her a liar, Weasel?" Draco sneered, full aware of what Ron's game was. So, the moron thought he could jump into the picture and start defending his would be girlfriend's honor after getting her pregnant and abandoning her? Despicable. Not even a Slytherin would do that.
"And a bitch, Malfoy. Get used to it."
Draco's hand twitched towards the pocket he held his wand in when professors suddenly descended upon the scene.
"That's enough, boys," came Snape's sniveling voice. "As much as it pains me to stop all three of you from killing one another, I would be held the negligent party in this case and I am not ready for Azkaban…yet. Now, if you'll please put away your wounded egos and leave separately and quietly before I'm forced to give you all detentions. In my classroom. At the same time." When the boys didn't move, he sighed. "For the remainder of the school year."
At that, they reluctantly stopped glaring at one another and turned away. Ron and Harry left first, casting nasty glances behind them the whole way out. Draco attempted to leave after them, but Snape caught him by his collar and shook his head.
"You and I," he murmured, "need to speak."
Draco snarled at him and removed himself from the older wizard's grasp. "I believe we do, yes," he replied, before preceding his professor from the great hall.
The minute the two of were gone, the entire hall erupted into sound once again.