Thanks as usual, everyone! Here's more to answer some of the questions I've gotten. The next chapter marks the middle of my story, so it gives everyone an idea of where I'm at. Enjoy!
LCailan
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
In the new world, simple joys were fleeting; happiness only a thing of the past. In the new world, joy and happiness had long been buried by the oppression of despair and hopelessness that so often monopolized the minds of those still somehow alive and trying to get by, one day at a time.
Hermione stood, rendered immobile by her shock, and wondered if that was why she couldn't move and was having trouble breathing. Joy happened so infrequently that when, finally, in the face of such a pure emotion, it was startling.
Pansy had been late; at first, only a few moments, and then, half and hour had gone by, and soon after that, an hour. Confusion had taken residence in Hermione's battered heart, and her hands had gone icy and stiff from tension and the grip she had on the hard, plastic chair she was sitting in. That was, until the moment Lily Potter walked into the hallway from the door that led to the outside. Nothing had prepared Hermione for seeing her again; her heart stopped, her eyes filled with tears of disbelief and joy, and she let out a soft, strangled sob.
Lily!
It was as if her voice had deserted her, and Hermione could find no strength with which to say the little girl's name.
Yes, she had been rendered immobile, only able to gaze as Ginny fell to her knees on the dirty floor outside of Pansy Parkinson's office at the alienage, tears of joy streaming down her face and a smile of sheer happiness lighting up her eyes.
"Lily, oh, my baby!"
"Mamma!"
The reunion was the first moment of pure joy that Hermione had felt since that summer, when Ginny and the children had been brought back to the alienage. It was different than the heady feeling of comfort she had found in Draco's arms, and different than the subtle thankfulness that each day she was still alive, still able to be with Ginny and Justin and some of the others. No, this was joy the way she remembered it from her Hogwarts days, from her growing up, from the pleasures in the world before this one. This was the same joy she had felt when looking into Ron's eyes the night of their impromptu wedding. The bubbling of joy from those moments spent in the presence of her new family, the Weasleys, while still on the run from Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
This was joy, unadulterated by fear and the worries of the past and of the future.
Oh, Lily, you're safe!
Nothing seemed amiss, Hermione realized with a start. She seemed unharmed, and when she moved to hug her mother, to kiss her cheek, there was no heaviness to her actions, no limp, nothing to indicate that Pansy had harmed her in any way. Hermione did not dare hope that in this, something had gone right. That whatever God still remained, had watched over Harry and Ginny's child while she had been in the clutches of a woman as repugnant as Pansy Parkinson.
But, there it was.
"'Mione!"
It was the sound of her sweet voice that broke Hermione out of her frozen state, her limbs melting, her tears coming now as she knelt to gather the little girl into her arms and holding her tight. She was whole, and healthy, from the top of her auburn hair and the wide, trusting gaze that only a child could possess, to the tips of her scuffed boots. There was nothing amiss, Hermione realized, as she clutched the girl to her chest, feeling Lily's tiny heart fluttering with life and strength against her. She nearly began to sob as she kissed the child's long, soft tresses.
Yes, this was real; this was true joy. This was something the Ministry, and all those who were trying to destroy her, would never take away.
"Lily, I'm so glad you're safe."
She managed to whisper the words, her voice catching in her throat, and sounding broken and strained even though she was so happy.
When Lily pulled away, Hermione gazed on her face once more.
"She…didn't hurt you, did she?"
Hermione realized how much she hated herself for allowing fear and doubt to corrupt the perfect moment of happiness.
Lily shook her head, though the look in her eyes darkened a bit, with worry.
"No, 'Mione. But, you won't make me go back, will you? I wanna stay here."
The two women wrapped their arms around Lily again, and Ginny wiped her tear-stained eyes.
"No, baby girl, no one is going to make you go back," she determined, her jaw tightening. Hermione stroked Lily's hair.
"You're here with us now. I promise, you won't go anywhere again without one of us."
Lily leaned against her mother's neck, wordlessly asking to be held and comforted, and Ginny didn't hesitate to do so.
Hermione searched her friend's face, seeing that Ginny was overjoyed.
It was worth it, Hermione knew, to see this moment between mother and daughter.
It's what I'll remember when that horrid woman comes. It's what I'll have to remember, because they'll try to make me forget. I won't be afraid; this is what I'm supposed to do.
But, at the thought of Pansy and what was to come, fear filled her heart, oily and cloying, clinging to her senses, paralyzing her. It froze her emotions, like a lake in wintertime.
"Potter, you need to leave."
The words were cold; they were a bitter reminder that even the most perfect joys would forever be tainted. When Hermione glanced up, away from Lily, she could see him. He stood framed in the doorway, wearing a long, thick traveling cloak, his platinum hair falling into his eyes.
Her heart flipped.
And, she abhorred herself for it, for allowing him in, for trusting him, for ever having touched him. Hermione closed her eyes tightly against the onslaught that she knew was coming. Her heart had betrayed her many times when it had come to Draco Malfoy, she knew.
Not this time! I won't allow this.
Once more, as countless times since he had said it-
Don't you love me, Hermione?
She bit the inside of her lip, wanting pain, something – anything – to break her of whatever spell that he had her under. Blocking out all other emotion, Hermione fought to stare at the ground, refusing to look up, to meet his mesmerizing eyes.
She heard Lily whispering to her mother, and Ginny helping her little girl to her feet.
"'Mione, you coming?"
Hermione reached over to take Lily's hand in her own for a moment.
"I can't little one. I have to wait here."
It was difficult to look up, to see Lily's sweet face again. But, she did it.
"I'll come soon."
Ginny's brown eyes were questioning.
"Hermione, is everything all right?"
"I have to wait for Pansy."
"But, I-"
"Please, Ginny."
Ginny would not be deterred, and she turned away from Hermione.
"What's this about?" she asked Draco, her voice a tremulous whisper.
"Don't ask questions, Potter. I don't want to draw attention to this, and the officials will be back from their dinner shortly. Take your daughter and go. The quicker you blend in, the fewer questions they'll ask."
Even though the words were harsh, Hermione now knew what lay beneath them; he wasn't being cruel, he was simply protecting Lily again. Protecting all of them, really, and it was infuriating!
Why did this man have to be such an enigma? Why did there have to be lies and a breach of trust, and how was she ever supposed to understand of believe any of what he had said? How was she supposed to think that he had no more ulterior motives? And why was she so damned weak when it came to him?
Hot tears prickled her eyes, and she took a deep breath, reaching to squeeze Ginny's hand in reassurance.
"I'll be fine," she whispered.
This was true, even though Ginny looked uncertain, and her gaze flickered between Hermione and Draco with mistrust.
"I'll see you in a bit, then."
Hermione nodded, watching Lily and Ginny retreat, moving towards the door and disappearing through it. It was better she knew, that they not find out what she had done until later. The silence was oppressive, but Hermione stubbornly ignored the man in the room, sitting down once more on the plastic chair, her head turned from him, the hammering of her heart out of control. There was nothing to do now but wait for Pansy.
She shuddered.
I did the right thing! I can deal with pain; pain isn't something foreign anymore, is it? I can do this; I can handle whatever it is that she has planned.
"Granger."
She twitched at the sound of her name. Tightness gripped her throat, and she had difficulty swallowing past it, and so her breathing sounded choked.
"Please, look at me."
The request was plaintive, almost passionate and Hermione fought a great battle not to do as he was asking.
No! I won't. I won't, leave me alone!
She heard the sound of his booted step on the hard, cold ground, and then he was standing next to her. Hermione fought against the need to reach up and hold him close, to breathe in his scent and feel the warmth of his touch again.
"Where is Pansy?"
The question sounded strange in her ears, a sound of fear and uncertainty. Still, she would not look at him.
"She's not coming."
The lump dissolved and Hermione began to cough, leaning over the chair to catch her breath. When he reached down to touch her shoulder, she moved away, shaking her head.
"Why?" she whispered.
Then, she glanced up, and when their gazes met, she swore that time as she knew it had stopped.
"I convinced her that returning Lily was the right thing to do."
His whispered reply made no sense, and the logical part of Hermione's mind screamed at her to not believe him. His eyes captured her soul, clutching it even as she tried to fight against her flood of feelings. There was pity in those eyes, and understanding. There was uncertainty, but hope as well.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears.
"You think one good act erases everything?" she spat incredulously.
As she stood, meaning to get away from him, he reached out, wrapping his hand around her wrist. His eyes begged her to understand.
"Just stop! Stop looking at me like that! Stop trying to make me believe something that makes no sense, Draco!"
He swallowed.
"I did for you."
"I don't care!"
Her wail echoed through the hallway and then the doors opened, letting in a small group of officials dressed in black. She only had a moment to glimpse the strange sadness in his eyes. Only a moment to realize that the words she had spoken were lies.
"Wotcher, Boss."
Those silvered eyes turned hard and cold as he looked at his comrades.
"Mulciber."
"Everything in order?"
"As usual."
Then he turned back on Hermione and she nearly wept at the distant, icy glare in his eyes now; it was as if he didn't know her.
"You're in the wrong building, Mudblood. Should I show you the door, or do you think you'll find it yourself?"
She nodded, blinking back tears. She was hurt. She was confused. She was angry. But, she wouldn't waste another moment amongst the Death Eaters. Stumbling away from the office, Hermione disappeared out the door, holding back tears until she was certain he wouldn't see. She stumbled off the single step and onto the dirt path that led to the courtyard and to the other buildings. She had kitchen duty that afternoon and being late was never an option.
Tears blurred her vision; they burned against her skin in the face of the bitter cold autumn air. It didn't matter to Hermione that her heart hurt now; it wouldn't always be that way.
It's better this way. It was madness to believe that he and I could have-
A Death Eater and a Mudblood? The reality settled, hard and cruel. She had become Lavender Brown.
Oh, Lavender!
Hermione's hands came up to cover her face, to muffle the sound of her choked sobs as she fell against one of the buildings, her body heaving with sobs.
Outside of this room, you must remember your place…and who I am…
Don't call me Draco. Call me what I am. Death Eater…
We can't forget…what my duty is, and what you…
She felt too weak to even move, but Hermione forced herself to stumble across the courtyard, her head down and her hair a curtain against the rest of the world. Sobbing against her hands, she moved quickly. It was impossible, this relationship she had envisioned, and the memories, his words, reminded her of that. So, even if she loved him-
No. No, there's no point to even think about it!
The mess hall teemed with life. Hermione stopped, trying to catch her runaway breath. Draco's words echoed in her mind, torturing her.
Right now, in this room, I am just Draco…
He had been so sweet!
You are just Hermione. There is no alienage, and there is no new Ministry. Can you do that for me?
She had done it. She had gone and fallen in love with him.
Though the hallway was now filled with the murmurs of the Ministry staff, Draco felt strangely alone in the wake of Hermione's departure. For a moment, he had been able to look into those eyes again, allowing himself one, selfish indulgence. Now, he closed his eyes, trying to memorize hers, so that he could save the snapshot in the bank of his memories.
He would need it later, when he was alone and miserable.
He had done it for her. Lied to Pansy, and risked his position. And she didn't care.
I don't care!
Her words were a mockery.
"Boss?"
"As you were, Mulciber."
Without another look at the other man, Draco headed down the hall towards the small room that was his office. Once inside, he sank down into his chair, one of his hands reaching into the depths of his robe pockets and finding the gold coin stashed there. It was the coin that Zabini had given him the last night he had been at the house in Kensington. He tapped his wand against it once, twice, and a third time. The coin glimmered, shifted and morphed fluidly, one moment being an ordinary coin and the next, tiny words forming on its surface.
A number, and then a street name.
Wizards Equal Rights Alliance Headquarters; central London
Poppy's voice was warm and soothing.
"It's going to hurt a smidgen."
Blaise winced at the impending pain, turning his head away from the elderly Healer.
"Don't worry about that," he said through clenched teeth.
The room was silent; most of the members of WERA spent their time outside of the headquarters in constant preparations, meetings, investigations, planning and research. Those that remained did the cleaning, cooking and looked after the children. Poppy Pompfrey was the only Healer, and Filius was starting to get on in years, and stayed behind most days, spending much of his time dabbling in stronger and trickier protective spells and charms.
During most days, the large abandoned building that served as both meeting place and Muggle-born shelter was empty. Blaise had long ago gotten used to the way the Alliance worked. Each witch and wizard was given a task suited to their talents and abilities. Paramount was protecting those who were being hunted by the Ministry. Secondly, the planning that went into breaking out the Muggle-borns still in the alienages, and thirdly, Blaise believed that the alliance existed to foster hope and unity. At least, that's what he wanted to believe. After all, the Ministry had fostered unity, hadn't they? He believed they had aligned themselves with the wrong wizard, but still.
Why shouldn't resistance foster unity? These people need hope more than many.
Poppy touched her wand against the wounds along his torso and upper arms and neck. The pain did come, aching and sweet, all at once. Blaise closed his eyes, groaning.
The door opened and Seamus walked in, holding Daisy.
"Oi, Finnigan, give me my baby!"
The pain seemed to ebb away, chased by Daisy's very presence. In fact, the baby girl had been the joy within the WERA headquarters since the night Padma had arrived, clutching her tightly against her chest.
Finnigan was grinning down at the baby.
"Sure, she's a wee, pretty thing, Zabini. Minerva's been sittin' with her all day, she has."
Blaise smiled, catching a glimpse of his beautiful, little girl. Seamus sank down on the frayed loveseat, and Daisy instantly crawled across the small space towards her father, who had begun to use his good hand to beckon her over.
"Come to Daddy!"
"Da!"
There was no pain, really, and no sadness so long as he was holding his little girl. And he had the WERA to thank for that, which was more than he could say for the Ministry. As Daisy settled comfortably in the crook of Blaise's good arm, he turned towards Seamus.
"Complications?"
"Where'd you be hearin' that?"
"There are always complications, I'm no fool. But I heard Thomas talking about it. How's he faring?"
"He'll be right fine. Sure, those Cockneys are tough buggers they are."
Blaise nodded.
"I heard him say we're not ready?"
"We're not. Sad to say, it is."
There was a heavy silence, broken only by Daisy's soft babbling.
"I won't push the issue, you know that. I trust you. I trust the organization and what Jordan and all of you have managed to build. We need all the help we can get. I know what it's like within the Ministry. I'm only sorry that…all this happened."
Regret colored Blaise's dark face, and he gazed down at his child. Words were no sufficient to express the disappointment he felt at knowing that his secret had managed to get Parvati Patil killed and Dean Thomas seriously hurt. Never in a million years would he have believed himself to care for either of them, but too much had changed in seven years.
"Padma will be fine, to be sure. She has purpose here. We all do."
The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then back down at the baby.
"There are just not enough of us right now, I understand."
He wanted to understand, even though his heart ached to have Lavender by his side, sitting there, holding their child.
"Have you your wand?"
Blaise nodded, taking a breath.
"I won't use it. I don't want them to track me, and Merlin knows what they're going to do to find me. It's not safe for me here, and I won't stay long. I just…"
He gazed down at his daughter, smoothing her blonde curls.
"I only wanted to make sure that she was all right, and to get bandaged up. I won't stay."
Seamus shook his head.
"You're crazy, so you are! We want you here! There's safety in numbers."
Blaise, however, couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gripped him tightly. He felt at fault for what had happened and what he was urging them to do. Yes, there was safety in numbers, but he also had a selfish desire to have his family at his side.
Why me? The rest of them have suffered so much, and now I feel like I'm pushing them to do this thing, just so I can try and rescue Lavender…
But not rescuing her wasn't an option. Blaise knew he would do it himself, if he had to.
When the door on the other side of the large room opened, both men looked up to see Minerva framed there. Her face was white, and her lips were pressed together sternly.
"Mr. Zabini. There is someone here to see you. I'm afraid I was rather harsh with him, but he insists that you gave him this address?"
Her tone was icy and it held hints of fear.
"I certainly hope that is the case, because otherwise we have been seriously compromised."
She stepped aside and Blaise stood his heart stopping. It was only when he saw the man standing behind Minerva that his heart started hammering again.
"Malfoy!"
Draco swallowed, looking at Finnigan and Zabini for a moment. At first, he could think of nothing to say, although his mind raged tumultuously.
"You told me to choose a side."
His words were breathless.
"I have."
Blaise's face reflected hope, and he rushed forward, offering Draco his hand. Draco remained frozen, his eyes unfeeling.
"But we have to hurry. Lavender's on the list. I'll help you, and you'll help me."
Two weeks later
It was cold; Hermione couldn't recall the last time she had been this cold.
Shivering, she huddled into her shirt, pulling the sleeves down over her icy fingers, hoping to warm them. It wasn't much warmer within the buildings, she knew, but she had gotten used to that. At least there, she had Ginny, Justin and Lily. And some of the others, who would huddle together for warmth. Even before she reached the door to the sleeping quarters, she heard the rattled coughing and sniffling from within. And, it wasn't even winter yet.
People are going to die.
She knew it as a certain fact, and it filled her with fear and sadness. Who would care for these people? There was medicine, but never enough to go around. There was a frazzled Healer, but he could not get to everyone.
People are going to die.
The harshness of living within the alienage had settled upon Hermione in the days that followed the confrontation in front of Pansy's office. She had not seen the woman since, although Justin had mentioned she was there, keeping to her office most days. Though it was a good thing for most everyone there, it didn't ease Hermione's pain any. Not seeing Pansy meant life as she remembered it before Draco Malfoy. And even though she hated to admit it, she missed him. She loathed him, but she missed him. She loathed the situation, what she had allowed herself to feel, but she loved him all the same.
Gods help me. This is for the best.
The moon was high in the cloudless sky and Hermione lifted her face up towards it, gazing for a moment as she stood in place, shivering violently.
I should get inside.
Draco knew now that he was working with the WERA, that being within the alienage was going to be more difficult. Making sure that no others were the better at the silent decision he had made would be a challenge. He no longer fraternized in the mess hall with the other officials, never said more than he had to, and nothing beyond the usual daily instructions.
He avoided Marcus Flint, who had begun to give him strange, calculating looks, and even more so, he avoided Pansy Parkinson.
He had put in the transfer request for Hermione Granger; Theo Nott, who had taken over Zabini's position rather quickly, had agreed to the transfer. And he avoided meetings with Bellatrix and some of the higher ranking officers within the Ministry.
He kept to himself.
He thought of Hermione.
He thought of what was going to happen, and what they would lose if they failed. But there was no more time, for Lavender, unbeknownst, had finally been put on Flint's list. She would die, if they did not act now.
Gods help us all.
Still, late at night, after all the others but the overnight officials had gone home, Draco would stay.
No one knew he was there, for he kept to the shadows. He knew it was pathetic, more than pathetic, but something in him would not rest unless she was with him. Most nights he had no reason to be where he was, no reason to watch her excepting to make sure she was all right. Only then, he would go to the flat that he had rented nearby. For weeks now he had begun to avoid his wife's owls and messages, because Draco could not handle the betrayal well, and now that he had chosen a side, he could not see Astoria, for fear of what might happen.
He had bedazzled the flat, making sure that no one knew where it was but Zabini and a few of the others within the Alliance.
Tonight, however, he could not leave. Tonight, he had a purpose.
Stepping out of the shadows, he caught Hermione before she slipped into the sleeping quarters, his gloved fingers enveloping her small, cold hand.
"Granger."
Hermione stared up at him, something flickering in her eyes, a burning heat, that light which burned like they were enchanted with Gubraithian fire. In spite of the cold, her gaze seemed to melt him.
"Let me go."
Her voice was strangled, and he couldn't see her face in the darkness.
"This isn't right, Draco. This thing between us. You know it! I know it! I've never forgotten, you know. What you told me the first time we were together, that I must never forget what you are and who I am!"
The moonlight revealed the glittering tears that clung to her eyelashes.
"Please, just let me go."
Her whisper was a plea and it tore at his heart.
"I know what I am, Hermione."
"Then why are you doing this? I was nothing more to you than a whore. I know you think…you feel something, but don't you see how impossible this is?"
She gazed helplessly up at him, his face whiter against the black of his coat and the light of the moon. She no longer feared him or his motivations. She only feared herself and what she was feeling.
"It can't be."
"And you can't say that you feel nothing!"
"I feel nothing that could help!"
His eyes searched her, the leather of his gloves smooth against her tear-stained face.
Draco knew he had little time. He leaned down, breathing her in for a moment, his lips against her ear.
"I love you, Hermione. Hold onto that, and learn to trust it."
She shuddered at his words.
"They are coming. Tell Justin. Tell him now, tell him to be ready. You'll be free soon. I promise. Even if it means my life."
She choked on her next breath, her eyes widening in shock. Her heart began to gallop at his words, and her hands grew even colder, her body frozen.
"Go, Hermione. Go and tell him. They are coming."
Without another word, he turned the shadows and darkness claiming him as their own. Hermione only hesitated for a split second before turning and rushing into the building ahead of her.