When she had finally collected herself, she had presented Theo with her idea to reach out to Andromeda. To her disbelief, not only wasn't he opposed to it, he called it a good proposal. She had given him a puzzled look, but had no plans to argue with him. She composed a letter, and today, after classes, she was going to let him read it over, to ensure him she wasn't revealing too much too soon. She was also hoping to get a response from Harry at any given moment.
Theo was more warmed up to the concept of involving Andromeda than Harry. After Hermione revealed that she had asked for Harry's help, he complained that she went behind his back, to which she said that she felt like she was out of options and Theo was being too secretive so it was his fault in her opinion, and anyway, Harry was someone she trusted completely. Considering that she had not shared any significant information with Harry, even if he were to discuss her strange request with Ron or anyone else, what was the worst that could happen?
During some of her classes and in the Great Hall, she could feel Malfoy's heated glare on her, and every time she met his eyes, his scowl only deepened at her. She wanted to go over to him and yell at him that she was only trying to help, which included helping him, but she thought better than to make a scene for everyone to see.
When she met up with Theo in the library, he came with a seething aura around him. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with her, and she couldn't help the hurt that stung at her heart. He sat down at the table, balling his hands in fists and not meeting her eyes. Theo had always been in so control, it was a strange sight to see him struggling to keep his emotions at bay. She had seen glimpses of the curse getting the better of him, but he had never seem this angry. As Hermione pulled out her letter, a wave of despondency washed over her, dampening her spirits.
"Did something happen?" she asked slowly, handing him the parchment.
"Draco is pissed," he grunted in response, snatching the letter from her hand with unnecessary hostility.
"I don't really understand," she said, folding her arms. She wasn't sure there was any point in arguing with him now, in his state, but the words tumbled out of her mouth involuntarily.
He directed a venomous glare towards her, causing a shiver to travel down her spine. "He doesn't approve," he said in a voice laced with malice. "This is all about our families, our struggles and vendettas and it has nothing to do with you."
"I think we already established that it might have a lot to do with me," she said coldly, dejected at the realization that he had seemingly already forgotten her breaking down in his arms just the night before. "And why do you even need his approval?"
"Might, not does," he retorted, dropping the letter on the table, and ignoring her question. "I'm not reading this, you're just going to do what you want, anyhow. I'm not wasting my time here any longer."
With that, she was left alone. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she swiftly blinked them away. She wasn't going to cry again at her predicament. He was harder to read than her close friends she'd known for years, but she would hold onto the hope that it was the curse speaking through Theo, and not how he actually felt.
She sent out the letter to Andromeda, explaining she needed her help and asking her to meet. A response from Harry came just the day after. Harry expressed his concern and inquired about what was wrong, and wrote that he she was free to go through any of any books with the topics she was interested in (he also circled the word 'interested' twice and added a question mark next to it). She wrote him back immediately, hoping that none of her own worries and insecurities seeped into her words. Now all she could do was wait for the moment she would be able to get to London without her absence being noticed or try to persuade Professor McGonagall to let her leave. The anxiety weaved its way into her bloodstream.
Professor Slughorn's behavior during Potions' class only amounted to her growing uneasiness. When he asked a question and her hand shot up to answer, he completely ignored her. When they were working on a potion, he loomed over her, commenting critically on her every move. In his opinion, she was grounding the leaves in a mortar too slowly, stirring the pot too fast, and was basically doomed to get it done right, and he practically hissed over her head to focus. Her focus might have been a little shaky due to lack of sleep and her mind being preoccupied with different matters, but she didn't think she was doing such a bad job or that his jabs at her were warranted.
After the class was over, Professor Slughorn called for her to stay behind. She waited in confusion for the other students to disperse, having no clue what she had done wrong this time around.
"Miss Granger," Professor Slughorn started. "I have reviewed the work you and Mr. Nott handed in, and I must ask—what was your contribution in this assignment?"
Hermione stared at him blankly, trying to comprehend his question. "What are you saying, Professor?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing heavily. "You heard me right. I know you're eager to take as many N.E.W.T exams as you possibly can, but have you thought that maybe, for someone of your status, it might be unattainable?"
Her eyes grew wide. She pinched herself, thinking it could be another one of her nightmares, but she could feel her skin sting, and realized that this situation was very real.
"Someone of my status?" she asked, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
Professor Slughorn hummed in agreement. "You're a clever girl, I'll give you that. Be as it may, pure-blooded people are just… more talented. Is this why you requested Mr. Nott's help?"
Hermione could feel her blood start to boil. If she needed a proof of what the curse was about, she had it right in front of her. Hearing her teacher talk about her like she was lesser, especially when she had always excelled in her studies and he had praised her work many times before, made the current reality sink right into her. Was this the beginning of her worst nightmare?
"It was actually Theo who approached me. And yes, he might have been more knowledgeable about the specific potion we worked on, but I would say we both did contribute. I can prepare another potion for the assignment, and I'll get it done all by myself, if you would prefer that."
"The potion you chose was indeed an intriguing selection," Professor Slughorn said, ignoring everything she just told him. "A love potion, huh? Tell me, did you have any goal in your mind that prompted you to want to learn how to make one?"
She gave him an offended look that he reciprocated with a flash of annoyance and malice behind his own eyes. "What are you implying?" she asked angrily.
"The House of Nott is a longstanding lineage with a proud history of pure-blood heritage. I'm sure that a potion like this would come in handy for someone like you, wouldn't it? Make yourself a little more respectable if you choose the right husband."
Hermione was seething, listening to these implications. They were absolutely ridiculous and insulting. She would never try to cater to people who thought she didn't deserve respect purely because of her blood. Even though she understood that her teacher likely didn't mean it (or, at least she believed he didn't, given his lack of prior implications and his favorable relationship with Harry's mother who was muggle-born), her heart became increasingly burdened. Each passing day, she found it more difficult to bear the mistreatment coming from all directions. It had been simpler when only her enemies harbored animosity for her, but now the weight grew heavier and heavier as even her friends and teachers began to exhibit contempt and disdain for her.
"Thank you for the advice, but I wouldn't want to taint anyone with my blood," she said, her voice dripping with venom.
She couldn't bear to hear anymore of this, so she spun around and left the classroom. She didn't think about the things she had to listen to; her sole focus was to break the damn curse, and not dwell on hurtful words she would have to suffer through.
Two days later, she received a response from Andromeda who, thankfully, agreed to meet with her. Hermione felt a flicker of hope when she read her warm words, and with a just a tad bit less heavy heart, she went to the Headmistress to ask for permission to leave the school grounds. She explained her the situation, what she wished to find out from Andromeda, and inquired if Professor McGonagall had learned anything new herself. Unfortunately, Hermione was told she hadn't and she was a little skeptical to let Hermione go, but after her pleading, she finally relented.
Now, she was sitting in Andromeda's house with Teddy in her lap and a cup of steaming tea on the table. She had told Andromeda everything, every detail and information she had, finally relived to talk about it with someone who wasn't involved in this mess and could give her some reassurances with a clear head.
"Sounds like you might be right," Andromeda said, a hint of worry creasing her forehead. "If the situation with your teacher is a precedent of what's to come, then you and other Muggle-born students might be in danger. If this curse spreads further…"
"That's what worries me," Hermione said, taking a shaky breath. "And there are only few people who know about this curse. I feel like everyone has the right to know, but I don't know what to expect if they were to find out."
"It's a tough situation. Do you know if Narcissa or Lucius are aware of what's happened to their son?"
"I don't think so," Hermione answered, pushing the hair out of the sleeping boy's face. "Theo isn't very keen on confiding in me, but I got the idea that they aren't aware of the situation."
"Theodore Nott," Andromeda mused, tasting his name on her lips. "I'm surprised to hear you found an ally in him. I take that the boy is not as corrupted with hatred as his father?"
"No," she said instinctively, without much thought. "I think that deep down he's a good person. But sometimes I feel like he doesn't believe himself that he could be much more than just his father's son. That he is more. It's as if he resigned himself to live in his family's shadow of who they are and what they've done. You, Sirius, you're a testament that it doesn't have to be this way. I hope he can see that, too."
Andromeda was looking at her with a knowing smile playing on her lips and Hermione couldn't help the blush that crept onto her cheeks as she decided she said too much.
"You like him, don't you?" Andromeda asked, although to Hermione's ears, it sounded more like a statement rather than a question. She could feel her blush spread all the way down to her neck, and she became acutely aware of how unmistakably she must have portrayed herself as a girl who obviously liked the boy. If she could convey her infatuation with just a couple of sentences and sparkling eyes, she had it bad.
Whenever she wasn't stressing about her current predicament, in fleeting moments, her mind would go back to their kiss. A tingling sensation coursed through her chest each time she indulged in reminiscence and even his outburst of anger failed to simmer down the desire that still lingered within her at the thought. However, what didn't fail to extinguish the butterflies fluttering in her stomach was the stark realization of how utterly doomed the mere concept of them being together truly was. Even if all they had were scarce, little moments between them, she should know better than to get her heart involved. It would only make it hurt all the more when the inevitable conclusion to their friendship and any potential for something more came crashing down on her.
She knew she was dwelling on this for way too long when Andromeda shook her head lightly and said, "No need to answer that."
"As for what I might know," she continued, her expression growing serious. "I know that there is an old library that holds some ancient tomes with some really dark topics on dark magic, I think more suited for what you're looking for than what you could find at Grimmauld Place. It would just take a trip there and figuring out how to enter it, because as far as I know, it's supposed to be warded. At least, that's the tale I've been told and never cared to check for myself if it holds any truth."
Hermione's eyes lit up. Getting into a secret library belonging to the Black family sounded promising. She wasn't certain if there was anything valuable to be found in the library, but gaining access to it offered more possibilities than she currently had, and if it indeed had been warded, it must have contained something worth keeping hidden away.
On her way out, Andromeda vanished for a couple of minutes, asking her to wait, and when she came back, she handed her a vial filled with red, thick liquid.
"Just in case," she said, looking at her pointedly.
Hermione thanked her, gave her a warm hug, said goodbye to Teddy and went back to school with a small, hopeful smile on her face.
