Moments in Time
Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis
XI: Doubt
or
"Eventually, all pieces fall into place."
That night was the slowest, restless night that both Hermione and Edmund had ever had.
Edmund was wrecked with guilt, for the way that he had responded to Hermione. It had been a while since his bitter side had come out. Before he believed that he had grown out of it after his first trip to Narnia, but apparently Hermione Granger knew exactly what buttons to push to make him beastly. If Susan or Lucy ever found out how he had handled the woman; and despite Susan's unexplainable animosity towards Hermione, she would have strung him out to dry.
'Women are meant to be treated like a china glass,' he recalled her drilling, 'they're delicate. You have to be careful with them. The last thing you want to do is piss one off.' Edmund cringed again, he was sure that he had done more than just 'piss off' Hermione.
But that was not the only thing that he was thinking about. What made him so restless tonight was the memory of their chaste kiss playing on repeat on his mind. He shuffled around in his bed again and heard Dagger snort with slight annoyance. It appeared that his agitation was keeping his guard up too, he often forgot that wolves were sensitive to such things. He couldn't bring it in himself to apologise, though. If he did, Dagger would know for sure that something was on his mind and the damn Wolf would not let him laying peace until he put his thoughts out into the open. The mere thought of it made Edmund blush as his thoughts were anything but pure.
He tried closing his eyes again and groaned as her face flashed in his mind.
All he could see behind closed eyes was the way that her eyes had been closed for a second after the kiss and then of how they had fluttered open. In that brief moment Edmund thought that he saw something other that hatred in her eyes, but as soon as he blinked, he was left questioning whether she had even looked at him softly at all. Hermione was certainly a feisty woman; she switched from hot and cold so often that he couldn't keep up.
He grew hot and flustered as he wondered how else she could be with all that fire in her but under very different circumstances. Suddenly the room was too warm, suffocating, in fact. Edmund gasped as he pulled his tunic off, he chucked it across the room and threw his balcony door open, letting the cool wind bluster through. The curtains billowed wildly, matching the wild beat of his heart.
He faintly heard Dagger stand alert, expecting something to happen as clearly the King's erratic behaviour was unusual but Edmund paid him no mind. There were too many other thoughts rushing through his brain at the moment for him to care.
What on earth was happening to him?
After tossing and turning in bed for several hours, Hermione, on the other hand, finally nodded off for a brief few blissful moments. Unfortunately, the nightmare that was her past and present woke her up again.
"Harry Potter is dead."
'It was only a dream,' she said to herself, 'only a dream.'
But it wasn't.
She was reliving the same nightmare, again and again.
The image of the moment when Hagrid carried in the limp body of her best friend was forever ingrained in her mind. It was painful. It was horrible. But in the grand scheme of things, the hardest thing to accept was that she knew Harry had to die. She had known for some time ... the reason why he could hear the Horcruxes, his connection with Voldemort, the way his scar was painful ... it all made sense. But she had kept it to herself. She had been scared, so scared, that if she spoke her theory out loud, that Harry would run off and sacrifice himself to save the rest of them ... and in the end, he'd done that anyway.
There were a series of questions, 'what ifs' that plagued her since the moment she entered Narnia. What if she had told Harry and Ron what she had suspected? They had time ... so much time. All they had was time in those blasted woods. They could have come up with a plan. They could have figured something out. It felt like all was lost because she had been too scared to speak up. It was her fault.
Guilt seemed to be an emotion that constantly tormented her these days, and even that could now be considered an understatement. The matters had been made much worse. Because now her involvement in Narnia was no longer innocent. She was no longer an uninvolved bystander just trying to figure a way back home, no because that would be too simple. She had, as usual, found herself in the middle of a mystery that needed solving, and as always, stuck her nose into a business that shouldn't have involved her in the first place. To make things worse, she had opened her big mouth and placed the family she was staying with into trouble with the King.
She found it easy to forget, while in Narnia, that she was no longer at Hogwarts. Yes, while the distinction may be obvious to everyone else; the magic of Narnia felt as comforting as the Hogwarts Castle and she, from time to time, found herself forgetting that she was no longer dealing with Professors but actual monarchs. The weight of what she had done hit her the minute she stepped foot into the Kader household. Now, Hermione was no coward, but in as she was greeted warmly by the brothers, she wanted run. She wanted to Accio her belonging and just disappear ... away from a suspicious King, away from the family who had given her sanctuary, away from repeating all the mistakes she had made before.
Her heart pounded heavily against her ribcage, and her body shook with fear for what she had agreed to do. Her mind was in turmoil between doing what was right and what was loyal. It would be easier to disappear. But she was selfish. Selfish enough to crave the company of human beings and living things after living in solitude and isolation for the better part of her last year. She wasn't sure if she could handle going on the run again, especially by herself.
That realisation had hit her like a cold bucket of water when she had gone from being surrounded by hundreds of students and staff in a large magical castle and in a burrow surrounded by redheads during the summer to just Harry, Ron and her. It had been tough, but she knew it had to be done.
Loyalty could be counted as the biggest strength and weakness for Gryffindors.
Loyalty was the reason why the Marauders had never questioned the actions of Peter Pettigrew. Loyalty was the reason why she and Ron didn't hesitate to follow Harry into the darkest depths of the world, knowing that they had no idea where to start. Loyalty was the reason why Harry had sacrificed himself for them and that was the hardest thing that Hermione has ever had to accept. Because, despite all their efforts, it felt like it was all for nought.
They had all let Harry down and that guilt, that constant gnawing feeling on her heart was why she wanted to return to Hogwarts. She knew she owed him, she knew that she had to finish what he had started. She had thrown it all way the minute she gave up and let Bellatrix win.
She couldn't live with herself knowing that all that Harry, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Lily and James Potter, Dumbledore ... everyone who had died for the cause had all been in vain. She now pieced together why Neville had fought back. The minute he had pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor; his first attack had been towards Nagini. Neville wouldn't have known unless Harry had said something to him. Perhaps Harry had known that he would not return, she wouldn't be surprised if he had finally worked it out. Perhaps Harry had entrusted one of their biggest secrets with Neville because he couldn't bear asking her or Ron to do it.
What made her most ashamed and upset was the fact that Harry had not come to say his goodbyes to them. She knew why. She understood. They would have stopped him. She would have taken up on her promise of living in the Forest of Dean and growing old together; she would have grabbed them both by the arms the minute he revealed his plan and apparated them away from their fate. But she wasn't Trelawney, she could never have predicted their fate.
But despite it all, she didn't like that he did it. She was angry, furious even that he had left without as much of a goodbye. She hated that in the 'afterlife', if you could call it that, they had been separated. They were always meant to always be the Golden Trio, not even death was supposed to separate them. Who knew what new adventure Harry and Ron were on.
If only they could be here with her ...
If only.
"Ron?" Harry asked into the silent room.
The wind howled outside, desperately battering against the sticks and rocks that formed the home they were staying at.
"Hmm?" Ron replied as he twisted around in his sheets trying to get comfortable on the floor of the Burrow. Babbitty Rabbity's Burrow. The irony was not lost on either of them.
"Do you reckon she knew? - Hermione?"
"Knew what mate?"
"That I was a Horcrux?" asked Harry.
He instinctively touched the scar that no longer affected him. It was strange, not that he was complaining, but he had disgustingly grown accustomed to the sharp twinge that came with the dark magic of his scar. Now it was like any other permanent disfiguration - a thin white tattoo in the shape of a lightening bolt to remind him of his past. He would nearly go as far to say that he missed the bloody pain-in-his-arse-for-seventeen-years but was too scared to actually say that out loud incase it brought the bastard to this world by some weird force of magic.
Ron lay silent for a moment; he contemplated what Harry had asked as he remembered the moment Harry had found him in the woods. Ron hadn't hesitated to punch his best friend in the face for leaving them and going to Voldemort. It was only after Harry had hurriedly explained his reasons, did Ron stumble back and stare speechlessly at the cursed scar. Never would he have guessed.
"If there were anyone who could have worked it out, it would be her - I s'ppose," he replied, at last, his heart fluttered with sadness.
"She never said anything to you?" asked Harry, as he continued to rub at the unresponsive scar.
"No, she didn't. She probably wanted to wait until she had more proof - or maybe she was scared to tell us-"
"Why would she be scared?"
Ron sent Harry a scathing look. One that read, 'because-you-would-have-gone-running-off-to-play-the-sacrificial-lamb-you-inconsiderate-prick'.
"Point," acquiesced Harry, to Ron's silent comment, with a nod of his head.
"You know-" Harry paused, as he considered what he was about to say for a moment, "-when I died, I had a choice..."
Ron turned his full attention to Harry, this was something new. Ron tried to remember if he had been given a choice, but for the love of him, all he could remember was a faint roar, and for all he knew that could have been his mother as he was taken away from their world. Ron silently blinked back the tears as he remembered his family.
"Dumbledore - I mean, I was at King's Cross, and Dumbledore was there. Told me how this was what was meant to be and then he gave me a choice, he said that I could come back or I could stay. Only, I thought that when he said that I could stay, he meant that I could be with my family, with mum, dad and Sirius ... guess the joke was on me, huh?"
Silence ensued in the Burrow once again. As much as Ron wanted to hate Harry for making a selfish choice, he couldn't. Because he finally understood. No amount of riches or glory in the world could replace his family, his mum's cooking and seasonal jumpers, his dad's crazy eccentricities and love for all things muggle, his cool older brothers, his beautiful younger sister who was meant to marry Harry to make them all into one big happy family, how Hermione would have completed that perfection by being his wife ... he would give everything he had to have all that back. And then a fear gripped his heart so tight, he found it hard to breathe.
"Hey, Harry?" he managed to wheeze out.
"Yeah, Ron?" Harry shuffled on the bedding, trying to get more comfortable.
"What if she's not here?"
Both boys froze, their hearts beating harder, faster and louder as Ron voiced the question they both had been too scared to ask out loud.
"What will we do Harry? You have Dumbledore's wand, the bloody elder wand and even with that, we can't apparate! And we're in some country where there are talking animals ... I know that we've been in some strange situations before mate, but this takes the lot."
Harry had no response for a while as a slight panic had taken over. He hadn't wanted to think about it because Ron had been right, that night all those months back when he had planned to leave to find the Horcruxes by himself, they couldn't do this without her. She was the general and they were her army. Hermione Granger was the brains behind the operation that was the Golden Trio. Harry highly doubted that he would have survived until he was seventeen in their world had it not been for Hermione.
"We do what she would do," he said, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
Both boys looked at each other, there was one thing Hermione knew to do best and it has always helped them find a solution in the past.
"Research." They agreed with a grimace. And as though that was the conclusion they needed to reach before they were able to sleep, both boys knocked out; falling into the land of dreams, a curious one with a strange, majestic Lion.
Hermione adopted a 'what-would-Harry-do' persona as she deliberated over the best method to go about her espionage. Harry had always been the more spontaneous one in their adventures. The reason being that he never planned, he just went running in with his wand out.
She sighed heavily as she laid in bed, unable to go back to sleep after her nightmare. She listened to the steady inhalation and exhalation of Sally's breaths, in vain hope that it may induce her breathing pattern to something more steady. She tossed and turned, as she weighed her options. As unwilling as she was to do the task that Edmund had set her, but unable to squash her curiosity, she threw the covers off her body and stood. Her night slip, that had bunched up around her thighs during the night, fell down to graze against her ankles again. Making a snap decision before she changed her mind again, she transformed her nightie into a witch's robe.
Right.
She was going to do this.
Feeling much more confident in her black robes, she cast a 'Silencio' on her feet followed by a disillusionment charm on herself. Slowly, she crept out of the room and travelled in the direction of Peter's study. Her heart beat fast and pounded like a drum in her ears as she reached her destination. Though no one would be able to see her, she couldn't help but take a cautious look around to see if anyone was there.
Satisfied that no one would see the door open, she turned the knob.
It was locked. She was half tempted to turn back around and report the mission unsuccessful to Edmund in the morning. But she knew that would be a pathetic excuse as the King would more likely than not, encourage her to find a way anyway.
"Are you a witch or not?" an 11-year-old Ron's voice repeated in her mind and that was all the encouragement she needed.
With a roll of her eyes, she pointed her wand at the handle and said, "Alahomora."
Magic really did give you the best shortcuts. Quickly, before anyone appeared on the landing, Hermione stepped inside, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.
This was the first time she had ever stepped foot into Peter's study. It was immaculate. Similar to Edmund's room, Peter's was lined from floor to ceiling with books on all four walls. Hermione felt a wave of jealousy spread through her before she quickly reminded herself why she was here.
Right.
Where should she even begin?
She couldn't risk making a mess as it appeared that Peter was a man after her own heart. He alphabetized his books, his table was clear of any files, and his drawers had locks. The man was thorough. She glanced at the mechanical clock on the wall and realised that she had just under an hour before they all started waking up, she didn't have much time.
She decided to start off with the drawers. A quick 'Alahomora' unlocked every single one of them and she took a seat on his chair, pulling out file after file from each drawer and scanned through them. It was during times like these that she was exceptionally thankful for her research abilities.
The minutes ticked by as she went through each piece of paper, determine not to miss one as it might be the important one, but with no avail.
Sighing, she placed the last file back into its place and locked the drawer again. Hope filled as she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps Peter really was doing nothing wrong and was merely conversing about some gossip he had heard inside the castle.
That was just as plausible ... at least until she spotted a piece of paper peeking through a gap on the table.
With a frown, she picked up the letter opener from Peter's desk and nicked the table. Her eyes widened as a secret compartment came undone and files that were previously hidden from prying eyes came into view. Just as she went to pick up the first piece of parchment for inspection, she heard footsteps on the staircase. She panicked as she glimpsed at the clock, damn. She forgot to keep watch. She quickly cast the Doubling Charm on the papers, duplicating everything that was there. Gathering the evidence, she slammed the compartment shut and recast the disillusionment charm on herself. It was just in the nick of time, as the door opened and Peter stepped inside.
Hermione breathed in sharply, she held her breath as she manoeuvred away from the desk and towards the door, as silently as she could. She shuffled back away from Peter when the man changed direction and headed straight towards her. Pressed against the curtains, she stayed still until he moved away from her space. She watched with bated breath as Peter stepped towards the table. He frowned as he spotted his letter opener haphazardly chucked the table, in a skewed manner that was not the way that he had meticulously left it. Hermione's breath left with a whoosh as Peter picked up something from the table, it was almost invisible in the dim light, but as a soft draught passed through the room, she saw it swaying and realised that it was a strand of her hair.
Thankful for the still active 'Silencio' on her feet, she gathered her wits and ran out of the room, the door flying open as she did. She thundered up the stairs, but the house remained silent. She could hear Peter shuffling towards the door with confusion and her heart thumped as she heard him coming up the stairs behind her, though at a slower speed as he couldn't see or hear what had caused the door to open. As deftly as she could, she opened the door to her room, Peter was still a floor below so he couldn't see, and shut it softly. Then wasting no time, she threw the files in her hand into her beaded bag and the undetectable extension charm swallowed the papers up like it was a hungry monster.
She jumped into bed and pulled the covers up over her body to cover her robes. She willed herself to steady her breathing to prove the pretence of her slumber and managed to achieve it just as the door opened and Peter poked his head in. It took the willpower of every cell in her body to not scrunch her eyes shut and hyperventilate. She stayed as still and steady as possible until he walked away and out.
Hermione released a shuddering breath as she gained control over the situation once more ... that had been close.
Edmund's morning was not much better than his night.
He groaned as his body protested to the lack of sleep and the second he woke up to the blinding sunlight filtering through the window he had thrown open last night, he knew that it was going to be a bad day. And he was right. From then on, it was all downhill.
Susan came in, not soon after, with the announcement of the departure of their foreign visitors and that he was expected to turn up in his best armour at midday to send them off; apparently there was to be a grand feast. Only, to Edmund, that translated as 'you're being forced to put up with Princess Mina for the next three hours whilst starving yourself as clearly the cuisine is going to be one that was prepared to please the guests'.
To make matters worse, Hermione Granger was once again the forethought in his mind, which made him equally frustrated and sexually unsatisfied.
How did that happen over the span of one night?
Perhaps it had been too long since he last wooed a woman that he was now totally focussed on the only woman he had been attracted to in a long while. He was convinced that it was nothing more than sexual attraction that he felt for Hermione. The matters were made no better when a realisation hit him that he would have to deal with her today if she reported to him as ordered. He was ashamed to admit that he felt, in equal parts, dread and excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.
He wondered if she would comply with his orders, he wouldn't be at all surprised if she ignored him completely and didn't show up this afternoon. Though he would never admit it out loud to her, he was actually interested to see how she responded to him, it was almost as though he found some disturbing pleasure with her direct disobedience.
As his thoughts started turning slightly unsavoury and very much less PG, her name was announced by his receiving guard. He glanced at Dagger quickly, just as he was convincing himself that she was here to tell him just where he could shove his orders, she walked into the room with a large book in her hand. His interest piqued.
For a second his breath caught, as he was once again reminded just why he was attracted to her. With finer clothes; as she was currently wearing some weird black robe and underneath he could see a pair of breeches and riding boots peeking through, and with a little bit more refinement in her appearances, the girl really could give some of the Ladies of the Court a run for their money. Still, she was certainly much more pleasant company than Princess Mina - and that spoke volumes about Mina's personality, considering that on the best of days, Hermione was as prickly as a pear.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," he greeted.
He tried to sound as serene as convincingly as he could, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was all he had thought about for the past ten or so hours ... not that anyone was keeping count.
"King Edmund," Hermione replied coolly, as she stared straight back.
And just like that, he was reminded why they interacted like oil and water. Taking a closer look at her, Edmund concluded that she was either a really good actress or last night had hardly affected her judging from her well rested skin and bright eyes. Edmund frowned over his appearance; the last he checked, his under eyes had been bruised so dark that he looked like he came out of a fight. If only he knew of the glamour charms that she currently wore.
"You're awfully early," he said with an arched eyebrow, determined to act as though he too had not at all been flustered by yesterday.
"I wanted to get this over and done with," she stated flatly.
She pulled out the papers that she had hidden inside the pretty dense looking book and gave them to him.
"What are these?" he asked, shuffling the thin parchment in his hand.
"Files from Peter's study. He went to great lengths to hide them."
Edmund stared at her blankly for a moment, though his eyes betrayed just how surprised he was.
"How did you manage to get them so quickly?"
"I couldn't sleep," she replied.
Edmund gathered all his etiquette training to maintain a blank face. Inside, he felt thoroughly relieved and just a bit pleased that perhaps she had been as affected as him.
"It's two hours after sunrise ... you mean to say that the first thing you did as soon as you got home was to do as I asked?"
Hermione gave him a level stare.
"Only to prove his innocence."
"You've read through them?" Edmund asked as he held up the papers in his hand.
"No," she replied, "I don't need to. Peter Kader's is a good man and from all that I have seen, he is loyal to his Kings and Queens and his country. I only brought these here to prove what I already know. I know that he is innocent."
"You may be right about the man, but is it not better to be safe than sorry? I cannot leave any stones unturned through this investigation," he continued when she spared him a response, "won't he realise that they are missing?"
"No, he will not, you'll just have to trust me on that," she replied cryptically.
Edmund pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. More secrets, Aslan help him.
"Well then, let's get to work," he said.
If she wanted his trust, she was going to have to earn it.
Hermione snapped her head to look at him.
"I thought that my job was only to get you what you needed."
"No, I said that you were to spy for me, which you are doing splendidly, but I also said that we have a book to decode, so now I require you to continue your brilliant work and go through these with me," Edmund smirked. It grew wider as her eyes flared with outrage.
"It sounds like you just want to keep me close, I have already proved that I am worthy of your trust."
"Trust is to be earned Miss Granger," Edmund answered, not sparing her the real reason why.
He was pretty sure that she would laugh in his face if he told her that he wanted to keep her around because he really did want to keep her close - but for reasons that were completely the opposite of what she thought. It was petty, he knew, but she didn't need to know that.
They got to work straight away.
Edmund put Hermione back on decoding the binary accounting as she had been on the right track before whilst he tackled the new pieces of evidence. Edmund almost wanted to be wrong about Peter, the man had been in his ranks for many years, almost since the day that his siblings and he decided to stay in Narnia; so it was with a heavy heart that he weighed his suspicions. But Edmund always followed his gut instincts, and his gut currently told him that there was something funny going on at the Kader household.
Although, he wasn't getting anywhere with his work.
Perhaps it had been a bad idea to ask Hermione to stay. Never before had he been so distracted by the presence of another person in the room. She refused to speak to him but even in her silence, her presence was overpowering. The room felt stuffy, as though there was not enough oxygen to share between them, and it certainly didn't help that he felt breathless every time he laid eyes on her.
He didn't know what was happening to him, it was ridiculous. He had no idea why she affected him so much, why he believed in whatever story she fed him - or rather, why he allowed her to blatantly keep secrets - because as always, she didn't lie completely - as she was far too smart for that. And that was perhaps the main reason why he was so infatuated; never before had he met a woman who had the ability to match his intellect. Normally, he could read people like an open book, but with her, her covers were clamped together so tight that he wouldn't be surprised if he needed a wrench to open the lock.
He felt like a silly, beguiled teenage boy with wool over his eyes over a simple girl. He was a King, he should be better ... he knew how to be better but he couldn't help himself. He was helpless to the way his eyes travelled away from his work to take her in. To admire her bushy hair, that was once again up in a bun. She always seemed to put her hair up when she read or worked. The way her brows knitted together when she sat in deep concentration with her eyes glued to the page, only taking a rest every few seconds to blink out of necessity. He was sure that if she could go without blinking, she would. Her dainty fingers deftly moved the quill at a pace that was almost fast to follow as her script-like penmanship slipped over the page.
He watched carefully as her demeanour changed, her eyes grew wide and her quill scratched across the page at a more feverish pace now. Had she-? He frowned.
"I think I've got it," she whispered.
Edmund matched her expression with wide eyes.
He scrambled out of his chair and ran over to her side with as much poise as he could without seeming like a fool. He stood behind her with an arm resting on the table, which allowed him to lean over her. Sure enough, she had unscrambled the binary. Her pattern leading to each alphabetical letter seemed to make sense. She grabbed for the accounting book and opened to the page where the codes started.
"The first letter there, that's a D ... and with the '1111' that's an O ..."
"That one's a K there," Edmund couldn't help but input.
Within minutes, they had cracked it. But neither party was happy with their result. Staring at them in the face was the same sentence, repeated again and again, a cry for help, a warning, a self-fulfilling fate.
DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER DONT TRUST KADER
"Don't trust Kader," whispered Edmund.
Hermione slumped in her chair slightly as the weight of the revelation hit her.
"This doesn't mean anything," she said adamantly.
Edmund did a double take.
"What do you mean?!" Edmund exclaimed, "this was a warning from a man who now lies in our morgue from an unexpected attack for which the cause is still to be determined because I don't believe that the three-headed beast from the woods was capable of flying into Narnia without catching anyone's attention!"
"He's innocent until proven guilty!" Hermione retaliated.
"Yes, but you have to admit that the evidence is currently stacking up against him," Edmund reasoned. "You overheard him talk about the accounts and the only people who knew about the embezzlement are within the high court and you."
"I didn't tell anyone," she seethed.
Her eyes burned with an indignant fire.
"And I have no doubt that you are telling the truth," Edmund replied after a moment, "but you have to see that now I have to investigate. I have reason to distrust him. This is no longer just my gut instinct."
He could see her posture change as she gave into his statements. She knew that he was right, she was just too stubborn to admit it.
"Did you find anything in the letters?" She asked him.
Edmund hesitated. He couldn't tell her that all he managed to do in the time it took her to crack an entire code was read the first sentence twenty times because he could not concentrate.
"Not yet," he replied, omitting the full truth.
He saw her pause, as though gathering the confidence to ask for something.
"Let me help you."
"I beg your pardon?" Edmund asked rhetorically, "were you not the one that opposed to this just under twelve hours ago, heck even a few minutes ago?"
"If you're going to be infuriating then I'm leaving!"
"No, wait!" He called as she turned on her heels. "Stay."
"I'm not a dog," she replied.
"... Please stay?" Edmund asked with an unsure voice.
Dear Aslan what was this woman doing to him? He held in a sigh as her arms uncrossed from their defensive position and fell back down to her sides.
"Alright, um .. good .. well, while we do have a lot to do, I have a very important lunch to attend so why don't you to join me."
Hermione gave him a withering glance. He had this way of stating a question rather than asking it. It annoyed her to wits end.
The silent, 'if I have to suffer, you have to as well' went unsaid as Edmund knew she wouldn't come if she knew exactly what he was dragging her into.
"I'm here to work for you, not to be your friend, or right-hand woman or a-,"
"Will you stop?" He asked with frustration with a hand on her elbow to stop her wild hand gestures. "It was a simple lunch request. If you think you can survive without food until dinner, then by all means, stay."
That made her pause.
"That's what I thought," Edmund smiled as she huffed behind him but nevertheless, followed. On the way out Edmund grabbed for his crown that was casually resting on the table by the door.
"Do you have to be so condescending?" She asked as they walked out the doors.
"Condescending? Who? Me?" teased Edmund.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her suppress a smile. Edmund counted that as a victory. He was thawing through her defences again. They walked in silence through the corridor until she spoke again.
"Hey, Edmund?"
Edmund faltered in his step as she said his given name.
"...Yes?"
"About yesterday..."
Edmund rose an eyebrow, wondering what she could possibly have to say.
"I'm sorry."
Edmund stopped completely and turned around to stare at her with surprise. He didn't think that she was a woman who apologised ... for anything ... he didn't have her pegged as the type. Clearly, he was wrong about that as he was with many things that concerned her.
"You are?"
"Isn't this the part where you apologise too?"
"Apologise? Why do I need to apologise?" He couldn't help but tease.
Her eyes narrowed and twitched with anger. Edmund bit back a smirk.
"You-I can't believe-!" She stumbled words out through her anger.
Edmund full out grinned as he slapped a hand over her mouth, and watched with amusement as her glare faded. His smile too faded, however, as he suddenly realised that her pouty lips were pressed to his palm. Clearing his throat, he pulled his hand away, though unable to stop his thumb from caressing her cheek, jaw line and down her throat as he retracted. Both their breaths hitched through his caress.
"I-," Edmund coughed, "I'm sorry for the way I acted too."
He never noticed the golden flecks in her eyes before-
"Do my ears deceive me?"
Edmund and Hermione jumped a foot in the air as they were forced to draw their gazes away from each other and to the person who had interrupted them.
"Lucy," Edmund greeted unpleasantly.
Once again, he cursed Peter for placing his youngest sister in the wing of the castle nearest to his. His wonderful sister, of course, ignored him and rather, focussed on Hermione.
"Hermione! It's so good to see you around here again! For a while I thought that Edmund had scared you off!"
"Yes, his personality does tend to have that effect," Hermione replied easily.
Lucy laughed with delight at the light jab at her brother.
"I knew that I liked you!" Lucy took a good look at Hermione. "Was Edmund bringing you to lunch?"
"Erm, yes?"
"You were going to bring her there looking like this?"
Edmund blinked.
"Why? What's wrong with how she looks?"
Lucy's expression turned to one of shock before melting into adoration, almost as though she was looking at a litter of puppies and not at her older brother, whilst simultaneously resisting the urge to squeal or coo. The expression on her face disgusted Edmund. The look on Hermione's face, however, confused him, because he actually couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what her expression meant.
"Come with me Hermione, let's get you cleaned up," Lucy tugged at Hermione's arm.
"Cleaned up for what? I thought we were going to the kitchens..."
"He didn't tell you? Don't wait up Edmund, you go on ahead and let the others know that we will be there soon!" Lucy called out as they turned down a corridor.
As their voices faded away, Edmund could faintly hear Lucy say to Hermione, "it's the State Lunch of course, with the other monarchs-..."
Edmund grimaced. Hermione was going to to kill him the next time she saw him ... which, if he thought about how long it normally took for Lucy to get ready; wouldn't be too long.
.
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A.N./ So so sorry that this chapter is so late guys! I'm actually in the middle of my exams at uni, so I have little to no time to write. I know that there are some flaws with this chapter so I will obviously be editing and reposting this once I finish my exams. I couldn't however, leave you hanging for another month! So here is the imperfect Chapter 11, to be refined at a later date.
Thank you so so much to the wondering 20(!) people who reviewed?! What the heck? I was not expecting that many of you to tell me how much you are enjoying the story! Thank you to: lottiemoreland13, Anonymous (x3), Guest (x2), Unnerdybookworm, faizanightshade, fourthfireshadow, booksareforescaping, Royal Lemur, Sameen Hadiya, AliceinWonderland13, craaazyaboutMalfoy, DieForPie, OOANDISAOO, more1weasley, twztdwildcat and Summer Orchid!
So pleased at how some of your reacted to Ron and Harry's arrival in Narnia! Your reviews made me smile, and it was so awesome that fourthfireshadow read my story and reviewed considering that her story, Fate's Instruments (which, P.S. I hope you update! I'm dying for more!), was one of the fictions that I read that got me into this ship!
I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I hope that I managed, through my rush, to keep Edmund and Hermione in character and of course, you had a sneak peak of Harry and Ron there too! Yes, there's a lot of sexual tension between Hermione and Edmund (what else can you expect when you put two attractive people together in a room?) and yes their relationship is very volatile. They go from one extreme to another, which is one of the reasons why I like this pairing as much as I like Dramione. Edmund and Hermione are practically the same person but at the same time they mesh like oil and water, they are used to being the smartest person in the room, they are loyal and intelligent and are stubborn in their beliefs which is what makes them so interesting as a couple I guess. But when you put water in hot oil, you see sparks, the water fizzles and pops and goes crazy and I hope that this is coming across well in the story.
I hope that you are excited about the next chapter, I know that the last couple of chapters have been fillers, but it had to be done so that the story made sense and had a flow. See you soon!