re-edited 2015, see 1st chapter for notes
Chapter 8: Old Enemy
Bellatrix dragged Hermione to the party—not literally this time, but Hermione didn't want to go. At all.
They were both dressed in a lot of black, lacy stuff—which looked good on Bellatrix, but did not look good on Hermione at all. Especially as she was only eleven.
Really, she thought as they appeared in front of a fancy house, why did Bellatrix want to go to a party? Hermione could think of at least a hundred things she would rather do if she got released from jail. Like, read a book, perhaps. Or, maybe, take a long vacation on the other side of the world.
She threw a sidelong glance at Bellatrix as they entered—she was acting, well, strange. Not like the woman she'd had encounters with in the past—no, make that the future, now. Had she really been like this, ever? Or was it all because she had pressed that button, that had made everything so crazy? "click to change?" well, things were changed, all right.
They finally came into a large room, with many people in it. There were tables with hors d'ouvres on it, and people were drinking and talking.
"Why don't you go along, somewhere?" Bellatrix said. "After all, you can't escape."
So you've told me already, Hermione thought. More than once.
But, even though Hermione really didn't want to go anywhere, she wanted to stay with Bellatrix even less. So she wandered off, and finally found herself leaning against a wall in a corner in the back of the room.
After a while, a boy who had been hanging out alone on the other side of the room came over to her. He stood next to her for awhile without speaking, looking out at the party. He seemed as bored as she did.
She stared at him.
"What?" the boy asked, finally.
"Nothing," Hermione said, and stopped staring at him—but she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
Really, what was the chances, she thought, that she would end up at a party with Draco Malfoy?
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