Procyon Mask - Chapter 7
A/N: It's been a little while but I got a meatier chapter for you this time. I'm also arranging to make a small companion piece to this fic set in fourth year. It likely won't be a completely coherent tale, but more of a jumbled mishmash of scenes that I think you'll enjoy. Now, onto the deep pits of Despair! (insert Monokuma laugh here)
The process of traveling to Hogwarts is vastly more pleasant than leaving. There's no crushing of her skull, no twisting of her bones, just the usual temporary notion of throwing up. And even that feels less intense than last time. The Room of Requirement welcomes her into its ash filled fireplace and she steps out, placing a hand on the wall to steady herself.
What had Barty done back there?
Just talk to her? But then why cast a spell afterwards? In the middle of their conversation even?
Her heart is hammering in her chest and she worries her lip between her teeth. Had he put an enchantment on her? Something to help him get the information he required of the Order? Did he… force felix felicis down her throat? Only to obliviate the memory afterwards?
She wouldn't put it past him. The man had been ruthless in her fourth year in making sure Harry ended up where he needed to be; that her friend always knew what the next challenge was and how to overcome it with his guidance. Even if it wasn't obvious at the time… God, to think she went to him for advice.
Her stomach gives a violent twist and she leans into the wall, breathing hard as she fights back the urge to panic. How dare he. He pretended to be Moody, pretended to be on their side, gained the trust of Harry, her… their peers; only to stab them all in the back.
She really couldn't trust a word that came out of his mouth. He was plotting something and using her as a tool, one that he could hold onto forever. It… made sense, she supposed. He couldn't exactly do what he did again. Snape kept a closer eye on his potion ingredients ever since the incident that year. If anything went missing for the polyjuice potion he would immediately suspect someone was trying to pull that same stunt and Dumbledore would be alerted.
Funny. The man that had stopped his death from happening was likely to be one of the biggest ones to suffer because of it. Dumbledore shouldn't have stepped in to stop the Minister from enacting the Dementor's Kiss. Barty should have died then and there, but… instead he was sent back to Azkaban and Dumbledore had been livid with the Minister. Upset at Barty for breaking in, impersonating his friend, and using Harry to resurrect Voldemort? Yes, but the way he chastised the Minister after Barty was taken away by McGonagall and the aurors…
She remembered clutching Harry's hand, hearing the shouting beyond the wall: Dumbledore's accusation of the man being a coward, for trying to find a scapegoat when there were far more pressing matters… That if he had killed Barty he might as well have signed up to be a Death Eater himself, not to mention the ending of a long family line.
The Minister had left in his own fury of rage and Harry wouldn't stop shaking beside her. In anger of his own naivety and being tricked by a follower of Voldemort. Everyone wanted to use Harry… Hermione just wanted to see her friend happy, not pressured by society, but it seems her wish had been twisted: now she was the one being used.
Damn that man. No - a bloody monster for doing this to them. If not for Barty, Voldemort wouldn't be back, Wormtail couldn't have done it himself… Granted, someone would have eventually done it anyway, but at least they would have more time. The Ministry wouldn't already be under his control.
Possibly. Hermione reminds herself. There was no clear evidence of Voldemort having gained control of the Ministry of Magic, just her assumptions based on her faulty marriage letter. An assumption she couldn't voice to anyone because that would reveal her situation and Barty had forbidden it.
"Fuck you, Bartemius."
The words ring in her ears, echoing back to her in the small room bare of any other necessities besides the fireplace and a door. Even so her body is on edge, shoes digging into the stone beneath her. She just wants to run. But there's nowhere for her to go. The medallion only takes her to the Crouch Manor and if she were to leave Hogwarts in a desperate attempt to escape from him he wouldn't be the only one looking for her. Harry and them wouldn't understand, they'd think something horrible had happened, that she was in danger. Her friends, the Order, her family… they'd all be looking for her.
She squeezes her eyes shut, a bitter laugh escaping from her lips.
Funny. To think the people she would be trying to save would condemn themselves for her. Barty must have known that when he picked her for the task. He really was the most intelligent mad man she had ever met. And she hated that even in her 'vile' thoughts she couldn't discredit him. He was a perfectly capable wizard, mature beyond his years, dare she think handsome when he was cleaned up…
Hermione's throat convulsed, a hollow hiccup emitting from her lips before she bends over and throws up into the bucket at her feet.
"Bloody hell."
The acidic tang lingers on her lips, throat sore and she wretches her gaze up so she wouldn't be inclined to just fall to her knees and nurse an ever growing headache next to the putrid smell coming from the bucket. She needs to get cleaned up and pretend everything is okay. For Harry's sake if nothing else.
If Barty did give her a potion or other… then there was nothing she could do other than watch it play out. She just hopes she's wrong.
Hermione turns to find a cloth on the mantle and uses it to wipe at her mouth, gasping for fresh air and finding none she stumbles to the door and opens it, only to be blinded by the moon floating over the Forbidden Forest.
She blinks, squeezing her eyes shut once more as she pushes the door closed behind her and sinks to her knees. It's barely been a week and already she feels like she's lost everything she was working towards. How was she supposed to get through the rest of her life like this? The Ministry could rescind the law and she'd still be stuck by Barty's side.
She forces her mouth open to take a breath of fresh air and opens her eyes, pushing herself back to her feet. Where was she in the castle, anyway? Hermione glances around the balcony before finding a set of descending stairs and slowly makes her way down and back to the Gryffindor Common Room. She slips into the dorm room silently, pulling the curtains around her bed and pulls out one of the books she had been looking through in her search for a way to break the binding between her and Barty.
For the rest of the night she combs through it, desperately searching for a solution until the alarm goes off at another girl's bedside.
Upon parting her curtains Parvati looks over at her. "Oh, Hermione. When did you get in last night?"
"A little after eleven," Hermione replies, trying to keep the tiredness from creeping into her voice.
"Long day with your fiance?" Parvati quips with a grin. "I'm guessing you enjoyed yourself if you came back so late?"
Hermione's stomach threatens to flip on her again. Enjoy herself? With Barty? Never. Though, she couldn't outright say that and her silence would only complicate things as people asked more questions. Why does it feel like everyone's so interested in her match? Why did they care? Cause Radovan was a mystery suitor they weren't familiar with? Because this marriage law had them all on edge. No one knew if it worked yet and with Hermione having an unknown… they were even more curious about her. Fred and George's matches were celebrated. Hers… she didn't even know where she would begin if she could explain it.
"I just came back after filling the required time with my match. It wasn't that late." She didn't need rumors flying around about her. She heard enough about other students' matches as it was.
"Really? You know, you could've stayed until the morning. Unless there was some studying you wanted to get done first…" Parvati glances at the open book on her bed. "I'm guessing Radovan didn't give you much time to study?" The girl smiles and Hermione can already hear her chattering in the hallways about how the smartest witch of their age had to pull an all-nighter to get caught up after being thoroughly wooed by her match.
She suppresses a groan, the urge to sink her fingers into her hair and rub at her pounding skull. The day was just starting and she was already exhausted. "I left late Friday so I came back late today. That's all."
"But you-"
"Leave off, Parvati. Can't you see she's tired?" Of all the people to come to her rescue… Lavender Brown was not at the top of her list. "Let her get caffeinated and eat something before you interrogate her."
"Agh, fine. I'm just curious." Parvati glances at Hermione, lips curling into a frown. "Sorry."
Hermione lets out a soft sigh. "It's fine." If her apology had been sincere Hermione would have apologized for her own attitude, but Lavender had already excused her.
Parvati finishes getting dressed and leaves the dorm room, though Hermione can't shake the feeling that people would be sneaking glances at her later today. There was nothing she could do to stop any rumors from getting out.
Damn it.
Hermione gets up, closing the book on her bed and tucking it into her bag with the rest of her school supplies before glancing up to see… Lavender was still in the room. Was she waiting on her?
"So… is the Ministry a qualified matchmaker now?"
Hermione blinks, surprised by the question. Though, it's far more welcome than Parvati's pestering about her match. "Honestly, I've only met him once. I think it's a little early to tell how well the Ministry is at matching people up."
"Radovan Krevmaj, right? He doesn't sound the least bit english."
"He was born here, but… moved around as a child. So he never attended Hogwarts." A rather basic lie, but it was a start for her little web of them.
"Right. Parvati said he was eastern european. So, another bulgarian? Or is he a slav?"
Hermione shrugs. "His accent was no different from yours or mine. It's not something we talked about."
Lavender lets out a little airy sigh. "I see. But a pure-blood?"
"Yes." It was one of the things she didn't have to lie about. Or rather that she could even say to begin with.
"Congratulations! You're moving up in the world."
"You know Lavender, sometimes I think we could be friends, and then you remind me that you're a cunt."
Lavender goes slack-jawed. "Excuse me!? What did you just say!?" she yells, voice echoing off the walls of their small dorm room.
Hermione frowns, rubbing at her head. "That you're a loud-mouthed inconsiderate conniving cunt." To think she was actually trying to help earlier… Of course not. This was Lavender. She just wanted to ask her own questions and poke fun at Hermione. For whatever reason. Not that she ever got along with her bunkmates to begin with. How nice of them to take turns questioning her. "Look, I've had a long weekend. I don't need your sass, Lavender. So take your own advice and lay off of me."
Hermione quickly leaves the room while Lavender stands there, hurrying down the stairs and out of the common room to get to the great hall. Coffee did sound good and some food might help her stomach settle from earlier.
When she reaches the Great Hall her friends are already seated at the table. Ginny glances up at her with a smile.
"Hey, Hermione! How was your first forty eight hour requirement?"
Hermione sits down next to Neville, away from Ron. "It was fine. Radovan was nice." More lies, but she couldn't very well tell Ginny that her match was a mentally-sadistic deranged man that happened to escape his prison sentence.
"Yeah?" Ginny gazes at her, obviously fishing for more info, but Hermione just reaches for a coffee mug and nearly scalds her tongue chugging down the black liquid. "Did you do anything fun?"
"Just nice, huh?" Ron lets out a snort. "I told you he would end up being a git."
Her grip on her mug tightens and she takes another sip so she doesn't have to respond. What a wonderful start to the day.
Neville shifts beside her, muttering, "It puts him a couple leagues above you, at least."
Harry and Ginny burst out laughing, Ron nearly snorts his orange juice back out through his nose.
"What the hell, Neville? You should be on my side!"
"Well, you're the one being a prat right now. And I don't know anything about this Radovan, other than he's probably more mature than you." Well, he wasn't wrong there.
"Perhaps you can tell us more?" Harry turns to her, still smiling. "Put Ron in his place."
And why should she have to? Why couldn't everyone just stop asking about it? "Later. I didn't sleep at all last night."
Ron throws a suspicious glance her way but before he can speak Harry asks, "Do you want me to convince McGonagall to let you rest for the morning classes?"
"No. I appreciate the thought, Harry, but McGonagall isn't going to let me rest just because I went to see my match this weekend." She takes a bite of her food, quickly swallowing it down when she realizes just how empty her stomach is. "Did you let her know where I was?"
"Yeah. I told her you were with your match to fulfill the law." Harry takes a sip of his own drink. "She did mention that she wanted to speak with you before you go next time, though. Oh, she wasn't mad. Just concerned since you kinda disappeared in the middle of the night. You didn't ask to use the floo or anything."
The following silence stings her ears and Hermione nearly grits her teeth. "I forgot to ask. Do you know what she wanted to talk about?"
"Oh! McGonagall is trying to keep a record of where those that have to leave the school grounds are going. Make sure they're not leaving the country, can get back on time, stuff like that."
Bloody wonderful. Now she had to lie to a teacher about being in a safe and secure environment. She could only hope McGonagall didn't need specifics. "I'll talk with her when I get a chance."
Seamus sits down across from her, immediately engaging the others in some tale about how noxwort and kluffkin are excellent for starting a fire. Even though neither has such properties…
Hermione takes the opportunity to eat her food and load up on caffeine before hurrying to her first class.
And quickly comes to the conclusion that maybe a jug of coffee was the wrong way to go. She's awake now, sure. But did she want to be? No. Hermione sits straight in her chair, quill moving subconsciously over the scroll in front of her as she takes notes. While she has the ability to concentrate on class she can't help but think about Barty.
What did he have planned for her the next time? He was fairly adamant about not raping her, but what the hell was he planning to do so that she willingly slept with him? For the life of her she couldn't come up with any ideas that would make her suddenly want to shag him herself. Not if it was actually her choice, that is.
Hermione squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, glancing to the clock in the next second. It was ridiculous. She shouldn't be contemplating how he could take advantage of her. Or watching the clock tick down and only being able to think that she was inching ever closer to the end of the month. When the law would require that she be raped to up the wizarding population count.
She takes a breath, putting her quill down for a moment as her stomach flips on her once more. Now that she had had food her stomach felt heavy, which didn't pair well with the spontaneous cartwheels her stomach was doing.
What she needs is to go through that book again, keep checking the library, maybe even ask Madam Pince if there were any books on the subject checked out and when they were expected to be returned. She couldn't deny that Barty may have been right in her missing a book earlier. If that was the case she needed to get her hands on it. To hell with his certainty that fate wouldn't allow her to find a way out. She would find a way out.
Hermione just wishes she had more time.
Her current class is dismissed and Hermione gathers up her things, moving onto her next class: potions.
Of course the topic of a love potion comes up and her mind settles back onto Barty. Because that would be an option for him, wouldn't it? Like Slughorn said, it didn't actually replicate love, just a powerful infatuation or an obsession with the person. He could certainly use it to make her obsessed with him for a short time, enough that she would shag him.
She presses her lips into a thin line, trying to breathe solely through her nose. And she's assaulted by the smell of the potion: new parchment, mint, … Her mind blanks, she turns quickly from her desk and the items on top of it, choking for a moment and then bile slips out of her mouth.
"Aye! Watch the robes, Granger!" Draco.
Her stomach flips even more violently and she pukes about half her breakfast up onto the floor in an instant.
"Hermione!" Harry is at her side, rubbing her back and gazing at her with worry in his eyes as she forces herself to take a breath. Upon getting another breath of the amortentia her throat constricts and she braces one hand on the untainted tile below her, willing herself to keep her food down. "Professor, cover the potion. I don't think it's helping matters."
Slughorn blinked his way out of his stupor, placing the lid back on as Ron knelt beside her with Harry, holding out a cup of water.
"Thank you," she mutters, quickly grabbing the cup and draining the contents. Her throat still feels like absolute shit, but at least the taste of bile was less overpowering.
"Are you okay?"
After having just interrupted class to throw up for what felt like the umpteenth time today? No. Absolutely not. "Yeah. I think I just had some bad food over the weekend. Haven't felt quite right since coming back."
Ron looks like he's about to say something but Harry shoots him a glance, continuing to rub at Hermione's back.
"Feeling better?"
"Not really."
"Need another cup of water?"
Hermione shakes her head and Slughorn speaks up, "Perhaps you should go see the nurse, Miss Granger? I can clean up here."
"No need. Scourgify." Draco points his wand at the bile and food chunks and they quickly vanish under the cleaning charm. "Filthy mudblood," he mutters under his breath before stalking away to his desk. She couldn't believe any information she found on the Order was to help him of all people.
What the hell was Barty thinking?
"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked, apparently opting to ignore Draco's remark for now.
"No. I'm fine. Like I said, my stomach's just been upset today." Ever since she left the damn manor…
"Maybe some sleep would help? You said you didn't get much last night." Actually, she hadn't gotten any.
"Yeah."
"I'll make sure your professors know you're excused for the day, Miss Granger. Now if everybody else could come here we can continue the lesson." Slughorn speaks up, trying to redirect the classes' attention.
Hermione raises her head, brushing Harry and Ron away as she stands up. "Thanks. I'll see you later." She gathers up her supplies once more, hurrying back to the Gryffindor Commons before anyone else can speak to her.
It really felt like she was descending into hell…
She sighs when she gets back to her dorm room, slinging her bag down and collapsing onto the bed before letting herself fall into unconsciousness.
She wakes up to someone rubbing softly at her shoulder. "Hermione?" She tilts her head to the side, gaze flickering up to Ginny. "Oh, you're awake. Harry and Ron told me what happened."
"They did? What about the rest of the school?"
Ginny purses her lips and Hermione already knows Parvati and Lavender have been making their rounds on the rumor mill. Just what she fucking needed. More bullshit she had no control over. "That's not important. Are you feeling better? My mum was wanting everyone to come back to the Burrow for dinner, what with Fred and George finally telling her who their matches were."
Finally? Had they been pulling Mrs. Weasley's leg the whole time and making her guess? It sounded like something they would do. But more importantly-
"What is everyone else saying about me?"
Ginny frowns, letting out a sigh. "It's really not important. They're just being stupid."
"Ginny. Please. I'd like to know what people are saying about me."
"Does it really matter?"
"Only so I'm not blindsided by someone making a comment based on stupid rumors."
For a moment Ginny is silent, then she leans back, running a hand through her long red hair. "Lavender is spreading a rumor that you threw up in class because of morning sickness. Parvati said you came back really late and looked tired this morning, and that… you were studying before coming down to class. They're spinning some stupid tale about you being wooed by your match and falling head over heels for him. So much that you didn't want to wait for the marriage night."
For a second Hermione is rendered speechless. "That's ridiculous. Who in their right mind would believe that?"
"Exactly my point and why I told you not to worry about it. Anyone with half a brain knows that's not how morning sickness works. And even if you did enjoy your time with your match last weekend, we know you wouldn't just sleep with a guy right off the bat. Those two are just being really vindictive and I don't know why."
"Probably because I yelled at them earlier for being nosy."
"Was is that bad, though?"
"I called Lavender a cunt."
Ginny eyes go comically wide and she lets out a snort, shortly followed by laughter. "Hermione!" Ginny chastises her even as she laughs, taking a minute to calm down. "What did Lavender do to make you say that?"
Hermione frowns, gaze flickering away as she locates her school bag. "My match is a pureblood. Possibly eastern european. She insulated that I was attracted to bulgarian pure-bloods and then 'congratulated' me for it."
"Oh… Well, me and the others can help you forget about her. My mother is making a feast for Fred and George. She's rather ecstatic that they were already with their matches."
"Soulmates, you mean?" Hermione pulls the book from the library out of her bag, careful to keep the front cover and spine out of Ginny's view as she slips it beneath her bed, shortly followed by her bag, with the edge poking out. There. If Lavender and Parvati got nosy while she was out they would find the bag first and shouldn't be willing to stick their hand further under her bed in fear of spider webs or some bug.
"Yeah… How was your weekend anyway?"
"Besides the food sickness, you mean? I'll tell you later when everyone else can hear. I'm not really in the mood to repeat myself."
"Still tired?"
"Yes, I didn't sleep at all last night."
Ginny's brow creases in worry. "Are you okay? Your match didn't… treat you badly, did they?"
"No. Just the stress of this whole thing is getting to me."
"If you're sure… Everyone else should be ready to go downstairs."
Hermione nods, stomach doing another little nervous flip on her. The Burrow… She didn't really want to go, but she didn't have a good enough excuse to tell Ginny. Not with such little notice. Not when she actually would like to see Molly and the twins again. And there was that little voice in the back of her mind, whispering that maybe Barty had cursed her. Or even worse, he had commanded her to get information this week and then made her forget so that she couldn't tell Ginny no.
She still had no idea how to tell when her binding went into effect. She hadn't triggered it yet or it just may not have any signs to clue her in. There was so much about that dam ritual she knew nothing about and no book she went through mentioned it in detail. Bloody hell… Was there really nothing she could do? Had Barty really turned her into a pawn that easily?
A chill descends over her and she shakes her head before getting up and following Ginny out of the room.
It's just Harry and Ron downstairs, the former elbowing the latter hard in the gut when Ron doesn't say a word and just glares at her. Harry on the other hand is asking how she's doing again, checking up on her as they walk to McGonagall's study to use the floo there.
The conversation was pleasant, mindless drabble that was easy for her to reply to even as her mind slipped away. First her bunkmates interrogated her, Draco called her a damn mudblood, there were rumors spreading about her like wildfire through the school, and now Ron… Was he actually that stupid? To believe the rumors and then take it out on her?
What an idiot. And she was an even bigger one for believing she was in love with him back in fourth year… or had that started in her third year? She couldn't remember. But what did it really matter? There was no chance of them being together now. Especially after the way he reacted to the news of her match… How could he possibly think she was still interested in him enough to get jealous over it?
Idiot.
"Weasley residence!" she shouts upon stepping into the fireplace, quickly surrounded by green flame.
It dies down in the next second and she steps forward into the outstretched arms of Molly Weasley.
"Hermione! It's wonderful to see you dear! I heard you got your letter along with Fred and George."
Hermione forces herself to maintain her smile at the mention of the new law. "Yeah, I did. It's great to see you again. It feels like it's been forever."
"It has! Oh, pardon me." Molly let her go, taking a step back. "Ginny did mention you weren't feeling well. I shouldn't have squeezed you like that."
"It's fine, really." She would much rather be wrapped in loving arms than having her husband's arm slung across her waist as she slept. Just the thought of him sleeping next to her sent a chill down her spine. "I'm feeling better now."
"Oh, good! I do hope you're hungry. Just help yourself to anything that looks appetizing, darling. I won't take it personally if you don't stuff your face this one night." Molly gives her a little wink before turning around to try and direct her family into the dining room.
Hermione is grateful for the reprieve, her heart slowly starting to beat again after hearing that word.
"And what do you need my help with, darling?"
To think that's all it took to make her freeze up. A single damn word.
So innocent, so harmless. Yet it instantly reminded her of him. The way Barty's eyes glowed in the candle light, smirking at her in such a way that she had to wonder if he had planned that too. Her coming to him for help in keeping her friends alive. Is that why he made the ghastly death vow when binding her to him? To hang the fear of her becoming the cause of her friends' demise over her head?
How did one think that far ahead? How the bloody hell was she supposed to outsmart him?
"Hermione! I cleared a spot for you!"
She blinks, jarred from her thoughts. "Coming!"
Hermione hurries forward into the dining room, though no one seems to have given much thought to her trailing behind. The table is bustling and she grabs at the first bowl shoved into her face, taking the spoon and depositing some of the food on her plate before passing it along. And on it goes until all the food has been passed around and everyone is happy with the content of their plates.
"So, Fred, George: have you given any thought to when you'll be getting married? You have less than four months to decide. If there's somewhere you were wanting to go specifically you should book it now. Everywhere is going to be filling up with reservations soon." Arthur asks, eyeing his sons.
"Argh! Don't remind me. Angelina was contacting a few places the other day to figure out what would work best."
"Well, it sounds like you're in capable hands at least. Fred?"
"Come on, it's barely been a week!" Fred finally speaks up after swallowing some food down. "Give a guy some time to adjust, mate."
"I'm not your mate, I'm your father. And this is important. We don't know yet how far the Ministry will go to enforce this law. It's for the best that you prepare and do what you can to not break it." Arthur gives the two a rather pointed look.
"Yes, keeper," the twins answer in unison.
Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes before turning his gaze to Hermione. "What about you, Hermione?"
She forces herself to swallow her drink rather than spit it out over the table.
She should have expected this. Of course Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be concerned for those at the table who had gotten their letter. She just didn't think they would be so blunt about it. Well, she has to start somewhere. "I haven't discussed it with my match, yet. We were just getting to know each other this weekend. It seemed rude to bring up planning the marriage so early on."
"Oh, that's right. Your match doesn't go to Hogwarts, does he?"
"No. He never did. Radovan was born in Britain, but he's moved around ever since he was little. Instead of attending Hogwarts or any other wizarding institution he got tutored by witches and wizards that had graduated from one."
"Sounds like a spoiled prat," Ron mutters under his breath, though Hermione hears him. The whole table even.
Before Molly can reprimand him Hermione snaps back, "Actually, he's the most intelligent wizard I've ever met and he has quite the inquisitive mind. He's a herbologist that works for the Advanced Flora Bureau, specializing in field research of plants and is typically sent out to deal with abnormalities. Which is why it took him a while to get back to me. He happens to take his work seriously."
Huh? Barty had never mentioned that and it was rather specific for her to be coming up with his backstory on the spot. She didn't even remember ever hearing about the Advanced Flora Bureau.
"Yeah? I'd tell you to go get married to the pompous arse, but you already are." Ron took a rather violent swig of his drink. "And who else told you he was one of their best? Or was that just him gloating to impress you?"
Hermione grits her teeth, fingers curling along the edge of the table, her train of thought interrupted once more. But as she opens her mouth-
"We get it, Ronald. You like Hermione and you're upset you're not her match, but there's no need to go getting your knickers in a twist about it," George jabs his fork in Ron's direction. "The Ministry's system decided on someone else for her. If they lift it and you prove yourself to be less of an arse maybe you'll have a chance. Just don't do anything stupid like breaking the law and stop being such a prat. This situation isn't Hermione's fault, stop taking it out on her."
Dead silence met his words, with the whole table staring at Ron before he pushes away from the table and stands up. "You just don't have any issue with the law because you got matched with your girlfriend. How would you feel if Angelina got her letter first and it wasn't your name on the paper?" Ron grabs his plate and drink before heading for the outside door, kicking it open so that it bangs shut behind him.
"Dramatic fellow, ain't he?" Fred shoots a smile her way, but Hermione can't find the humor in the situation.
"That's not the word I would use for him." She glances down to her food, spearing a chunk of meat with her fork before taking a bite.
"I think we have a dictionary here somewhere if you want to make a list." George joins in with trying to lighten up the situation. Even after Ron came after him…
Hermione forces herself to swallow her food, thankful her stomach is no longer doing nervous flips on her. "Sorry."
"Oh, you're fine dear." Molly shifts in her seat, glancing to the door before back at Hermione. "I'll go have a word with Ronald after dinner. Did you at least enjoy yourself over the weekend? I think it's good that you two are taking the time to get to know each other before jumping in to the requirements of the law. Makes the whole thing feel less political."
Hermione straightens in her seat. "Yeah. I met him Friday night, though we didn't talk much until the morning. He was just awake to let me into the hotel room since he was on a business trip."
"He didn't get you your own hotel room?" Ginny looks surprised, though Hermione knows she's not entertaining the idea of those rumors having any truth to them.
Even so it still bothers her. "No, he just had the one that was paid for by the company and I didn't want to trouble him. Like George said, we don't know if the Ministry will rescind the law anytime soon. Radovan insisted I took the bed though, while he slept on the couch."
"That was nice of him. So, you guys talked about his work?" Molly asks as everyone resumes eating.
"Yes! It's actually really fascinating. I know I said he's a herbologist, but he also does potion work for the company. The specific title is a bit… hard to say, since it's stationed in another country, but essentially Radovan travels around to look into any problems with local flora. Like if the plants are suddenly blooming out of season or something is off about the quality at an otherwise respected farm. He figures out what's causing the abnormality and comes up with a solution for the problem. As well as checking that any endangered species are left alone, occasionally taking a sample to cultivate it himself. There's certain flora used as ingredients that need to meet very specific conditions to grow, so he helps cultivate those and when a request for an advanced potion comes in he makes it." Hermione pauses to take a breath, feeling a little winded. "Apparently his mother did similar work."
"Did?" Ginny glances at her. "How old is your match? That sounds like a lot of responsibilities for someone fresh out of school."
"His mother passed away when he was our age." Hermione bites her lip. "Radovan is in his thirties."
Harry coughs to her right, glancing at Hermione and then the door. She imagines their thinking the same thing: it was a good thing Ron wasn't here to hear that. He probably would have blown up. Now that she thought about it… her parents were going to blow up when she got around to telling them about this law and her match as well.
She wasn't looking forward to it.
"His thirties?"
She nervously licks at her lips. "Yes. Are you that surprised that he's older?"
"Well… I just wasn't expecting it. A bunch of the matches in school were with people around the same age. There was only a few years difference if any."
"Mm, that reminds me of when we were young. A lot of pure-blood families arranged marriages similar to how the Ministry is doing for you guys. A couple with a large age difference wasn't unheard of then and it still happens today." Arthur says, clearly trying to explain for her.
"Yes." Molly pipes up. "Don't let someone's age cloud your judgment of them. There's plenty of people that get along perfectly well despite any age differences. You didn't just talk about his work, did you?"
"No. He took me out to a local garden and we talked for a while. A bunch of it was his work at first, but then we switched to hobbies and such, trying to find if we had any similar interests. If the Ministry's stunt was full of hogwash."
Fred snorts from the other side of the table. "Hogwash? He's a bit old fashioned then, isn't he?"
Hermione blinks, glancing at her plate before grasping her drink as she feels her cheeks burn from the comment and taking a gulp.
Wait. Was she…. blushing? Why? There was nothing to be embarrassed about, was there?
"So did you guys share any interests at least?" Ginny asks, tentatively. "Despite the ah… age thing."
No. None at all. She had never discussed any of this with Barty. And yet… her mouth is opening to answer Ginny, words fall from her lips and she feels a chill descend over her.
I- what? This… this can't be happening. She never spoke with Barty about what to tell her friends! They never discussed what lies she should tell for consistency's sake! Even so… the words just keep coming out. She can't stop them, can't stop her mouth from moving.
But he hadn't imperiod her back at the manor he had just… just what?
He had spoken with her. Back then he told her everything she was telling her friends now, slipping words into her mouth and locking them away until the information was needed. He blocked them from her memory temporarily. That's why she had been missing a bit of time before he gave her wand back. And now she couldn't stop the outpouring of them.
As long as her friends asked her questions her body simply responded.
He must have commanded her actions through the binding as well, laying out a few different ones to call for a number of scenarios. Explicitly stating that she only needed to follow them once, but to keep the act up until she was somewhere away from prying eyes.
Between his commands and the spell she couldn't move. She was stuck in this chair, blushing over a murderer, a man that nearly got Harry killed.
Well, Barty had said he would help her deceive her friends, to convince them she wasn't with a Death Eater. Oh god… she asked for this. What the hell had she been thinking!? That it would just be temporary? That all Barty would do was send her those letters and leave her to fill in the blanks for their narrative?
No, no, no…
Mentally her fingers twitch and she loses the grip on her fork, causing it to clatter against the plate. To get the attention of her friends, alert them to something being off. But… she's still chatting away with Ginny, blushing softly and smiling as she spews lies.
This couldn't be happening. Not again.
Hermione begins scratching at her mental cage, one she helped to resurrect. No, no, no… He couldn't do this to her. She had had a plan. The book was going to help her, a book in the library with the right information. She was going to find a way to undo the binding, to be free of him and storm the Ministry if she had to to get divorced. Take a potion or cast a spell to fool the Ministry's system into thinking she was infertile. Alert the Order to the fact that Barty was freed from Azkaban, to get him sent back, killed, whatever it took.
She was a bloody fool.
Barty had told her the day of their wedding that he wouldn't let her get away. He had known about it in advance, had time to plan, prepare…. She hadn't stood a chance. How fucking stupid did she have to be!? To think she could outwit a madman that wanted her to spy on the Order and play house with him…
Hermione screams into the void, clawing more desperately now, gaze flickering over to the door when it's not Ron that enters the house, but fucking Remus. No! He walks over to Arthur, speaking softly as to not interrupt whatever lie was currently coming from her mouth, but it wasn't soft enough. She could still hear him.
No! She throws her body at the cage, wailing and beating her hands bloody on the bars. Stop! You can't! Shut up! They can't be talking about those things around her! She's married to a Death Eater for heaven's sake! Barty had bound her to him, she couldn't disobey him. Stop! She has to report back about everything they say, their behavior, mannerisms… No, no, no! Shut the fuck up!
Mentally her tongue lashes at the inside of her mouth as she screams, but her voice remains calm, the words leaving her scripted.
She can feel a soft burn at her wrist as she tries to urge her tongue to twist, force her vocal chords to stop, to just stand up and leave the damn room. Her wrist feels like it's on fire. If it wasn't for the fact that she could physically see that no flames engulfed her hand she wouldn't believe that the burn wasn't real. That it was all in her fucking mind as the binding stopped her from making any of the actions that she wanted. That she needed to get away from them.
It felt like there were hot irons being pressed to her, burning through the skin and muscle to grind the hot metal directly against her bone. The ash collecting in the open wounds at either side of her wrist, growing hot and slowly burning the flesh there as well. For a moment she thinks she's going to black out.
Then Molly asks another question and she shrieks.
Help me! I don't know what to do! Please, anyone! I don't want to live like this!