Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K Rowling.
A/N: Howdy! I'd just like to thank all of you for all the reviews you've left recently! It's been a great joy to read, and I'm looking forward to sharing the end of the story with y'all. So, here you are, enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 57: Balloons
-Draco-
Shit.
There was a party in the castle, I'd totally forgotten about that. Students were streaming towards one point, the Great Hall. Unfortunately for me, I'd have to pass past the entrance to reach the seventh floor.
Oh well, what's the worst that could happen?
I punctually ignored everyone around me, couples were around me like flies, an annoying buzzing in my ear. I passed the entrance to the Great Hall with assured steps.
My legs almost gave out from below me.
There she stood.
She wore a bright red dress which cast a light on everyone around her. Her hair was set in a style perfect beyond description.
I would have loved to stand and stare for an eternity and beyond. Yet there was a rot surrounding her.
Potter held her softly, as if he was scared she would soon break.
I knew better, Daphne would never break. And definitely not from something he did.
They broke apart and Daphne said something to Potter. They exchanged a few words and Daphne scoffed and left, head held high, dignified. Potter stared after her, seemingly crestfallen, before he followed her.
Well, perhaps everything wasn't as perfect as I had just thought.
What I had just seen was an act. It had to be. She would never allow Potter near, of that I was sure.
Still, I so desperately wanted to be in Potter's place. He could at least talk to her, I barely remembered the last time I did so.
-()-
-Hermione-
Michael was a horrible dancer. I didn't really complain.
He was distracted. . . by me.
Half of the time, he stared into my eyes like they were worth a billion galleons, the other half, he admired my chest like it was a one of Pablo Picasso's paintings.
It felt great, knowing that he appreciated me for being me. That he thought I was beautiful.
I looked around. There were so many girls around, yet I was the only one he had eyes for.
To my even greater delight, some other boys also spared me glances when they thought I wouldn't see them; the thing was, Helena had taught me to spot when someone checked me out, so I filled every single one away and felt my self esteem inflate like a balloon.
There was a single sharp edge in the entirety of the Great Hall, one which threatened to burst my balloon.
The pair moved through the room with not as much as a glance in my direction.
Harry, I could understand. He was powerful, famous and had worked harder than anyone I knew. He deserved all of the giggles girls did courtesy of him, he deserved the attention and the fame. However, he deserved someone better than her.
The only solace I took from seeing them together was the fact that I had figured it out long before everyone else. Everyone else had been in the dark, but me.
I was better. I was smarter.
I glared at Greengrass in her ironically red dress. What did she do to deserve someone as great as Harry? What did she do to deserve all the boys' attention? What did she do to deserve being better than me?
Nothing; and she wasn't better than me.
I would make damn sure to show that. Harry would realise that I was better than her. He could trust me.
I felt a sinking feeling.
Harry didn't actually trust her, right?
I scrambled my mind for memories of everything I had seen between Harry and Greengrass.
Could Greengrass have been Harry's secret friend through everything?
It was possible, but why all the theatrics of hating each other the previous year?
Did they consider that romantic?
Was it just a farce to make people believe they were sworn enemies, when they were lovers?
I was supposed to be the one Harry turned to, not Greengrass and her ugly, acne-smitten visage.
My own skin was clear as water, thanks to my master. My knowledge was three times Greengrass', thanks to my master.
I was better, thanks to my master.
But also, thanks to me.
"Hermione," Michael murmured. I met his eyes, they were clouded with thick desire. "Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk. . ."
I licked my lips seductively and pressed myself against his side. "Lead the way."
Michael almost stumbled over his feet as she escorted me out of the Great Hall and through the corridors of the castle.
We reached a classroom with an open door. Michael tugged at my arm to follow, and I did.
We had barely entered the classroom when I heard the door slam shut and a pair of lips clash upon mine. Michael's fervour and intensity made me all warm inside.
I felt him push me against the wall and increase the strength with which he devoured my lips.
I indulged him and kissed him back, slowly.
I felt his hand creep up my stomach, approaching my chest.
I broke free of the kiss. I forced a smile upon my face. Michael's eyes were clouded as a stormy sky. "Michael, not yet, okay?"
He stared into my irises and leaned forwards again, capturing my lips between his own.
Suddenly, they felt cold as ice, rigid as metal.
I broke the kiss, and took a step away from him. I breathed heavily. "No, Michael," I said. "I- I don't feel like it anymore."
Michael's head dropped numbly, as if struck by a spell. Then his head snapped up and he walked towards me. "Please Hermione," he begged. "I need you, please let me have you."
I shook my head and backed away from him, but he took a couple of steps toward be, each one more firm and confident
Michael didn't stop, his eyes were fixed on my chest and showed nothing but carnal desire.
I felt my back hit a wall. Michael was just upon me when I whipped my wand out and pointed it at him. "Stop," I said, my voice wavering. "I don't want to, Michael."
Michael clenched his fist dumbly and stared at me hopelessly. His hand reached for his wand.
A red spell struck him before he had properly grabbed it. Michael fell to the ground, limp as a corpse.
I stared at him and at my wand.
My hairs stood on end and I shivered violently, but not due to the season.
I conjured a mirror and looked at myself.
The woman, no, girl, in the mirror was trembling, face white as a sheet and a pair of sickly, blue lips.
My dress was skewed. My hair looked as if it had been through a warzone. My makeup was a ruin of its former self.
My balloon burst. It was rather incredible. It had been slowly filling up for months, but in one moment -one sharp moment- its contents escaped, never to be captured again.
-()-
Helena hovered in the air, her expression haughty and cold. Her translucent, blue complexion impossibly pale in sharp light spilling out of my wand.
My legs collapsed under me and gave in to the incredible weight which had settled inside of me like a pile of rocks.
Helena tilted her head and floated over calmly, her lips pursed into a thin line.
I shivered violently, my hairs stood straight as lamp poles on my arms. I felt immovable and frozen, like a block of ice. If the coldness came from the ghost's proximity or the remnants of Corner, I didn't know.
I closed my eyes and Corner stood in front of me like a ghost, his eyes begging for more. His hands, taking more than I wanted.
Helena cleared her throat. My pupils darted around fervently to find her; she was right in front of me. "I assume the dance didn't go to plan?" I detected a vague hint of victory in her tone –yet my mind whirling like a tornado with thoughts, I couldn't even think about what my master was doing.
Helena shook her head in disappointment, unsympathetic to my situation. "Your date wanted more than you would give, I assume?"
I held my breath like losing it would make Corner walk inside the classroom where we were sitting. I nodded, my eyes closed, trying to suppress the images of what happened. I could still feel his hands on me, cold and cruel.
Helena floated closer, until her colourless eyes were mere centimetres from mine. "Get a hold of yourself," she snapped. "Get over it."
"But. . . but. . . but," I stammered like a terrified child.
"But no." Helena shook her head. "You have no right to feel bad because of this." Helena was smiling widely, for the first time, I felt the maliciousness of her expression seep into me. "Corner doesn't exist anymore," Helena said softly. "Because of you, you killed Michael Corner and replaced him with someone else, someone you wanted him to be. You moulded and shaped him like a piece of clay, you did, and only you. You can't sit here and cry like a toddler just because Corner became what you wanted him to. I won't allow it."
"I told him I didn't want to, but he didn't listen. . ."
Helena rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh? I wonder why. It surely can't be because of the fact that you've pushed his mind to find you attractive more times than you've gone to the fucking bathroom the past couple of weeks."
I sniffled. "I didn't want to go that far, not yet."
"I know," Helena said, her lips curled into a mocking smile. "But still, you made him do it. You made him like you, you made him desire you, but you didn't stop there, did you? You continued to push more and more thoughts inside his head, refurbished his mind to do things he never would do otherwise."
"I- I didn't want to," I stammered. "
"But you did, and that is the fault of your naivety." Helena curled her lips into a twisted and cruel visage. "You're worthless, Ms. Granger. You're worthless and you are insignificant. Powerless."
I felt my eyes begin to water.
"I gave you the tools to rule over all your peers, to become the greatest witch in your time, to become the Minister of Magic." Helena laughed heartily, as if my distress amused her. "But what did you use it for? You used it on two boys, you made them compete for your attention like a pair of squabbling children. And for what? Nothing! Just as you were getting somewhere, you crumbled like a fucking cookie and ran to me, crying like a pathetic little child, which is exactly what you are. A pathetic little child."
Helena hovered with her back turned to me.
"I know," I said and hung my head low in defeat. It was as if I had reached the eye of the storm. There, surrounded by chaos and disorder, I found my master telling me what I didn't want to hear: the truth. She was right. She gave me power, and I wasted it on trivialities.
Then the storm cleared and I was left in ruins.
My master smiled in front of me. "Good, at least you can admit your weakness." She clapped her hands together, creating no sound. "From now on, you will do what I say. You've seen what happens when you hold the reins, they slip out of your grasp like you've dipped your hands in oil."
I nodded. "I understand, master, but I won't- I can't do anything. I can't kill anyone, I can't torture anyone."
Helena smiled warmly, I froze down to my spine when I saw it. "Our deal still stands, girl," Helena mocked me. "You get power and knowledge, I get my mother in the grave." She tilted her head. "How you get that power and how you use it, that is what changes from now on, until your part is fulfilled too."
"I- I just want to be great. Help my friend."
"I understand that, girl. . . And if it is any solace, I did the same thing you did, once upon a time."
I looked up at her, my eyes puffy. "Really?"
"Well, I did the same thing you did, but it wasn't a mistake. I -in contrast to you- didn't crumble when it came to it." Helena smiled to herself. "We'd just moved here, to where the castle was going to be."
"Wow," I said. "I still can't believe you helped create Hogwarts."
Helena chuckled. "Well, you better believe it." The smile slid off her face. "I'd just met Godric and Salazar for the first time, then I visited the village, the one which is now known as Hogsmeade."
"Huh."
"Yes, I didn't like how they looked at me. Godric watched me as if I was a little pet, and glanced at my mother with interest instead." Helena scoffed, thunder raging across her face. "I wanted to destroy something, but destroying a tree, or a house, that's easy. I wanted to do something hard, something which would show that I wasn't just a copy of my mother, but more."
I remained silent.
"I entered the inn, ready to kill the first person to talk to me. . . but then, I saw them. There were two of them, two wizards in the middle of a drinking game." Helena smiled to herself. "I immediately knew what I would do. They were best friends, they owned a medicine practice, I believe. Helena shook her head. "I slept with one of them first night, and the second one in the morning. In the evening, both were dead, at each other's hands."
I swallowed, looking at my master who was still smiling.
"Godric looked at me differently after that. . ."
I sensed a but, but it never came. Instead bitterness sunk into my master's face.
"Let me give you a piece of advice, Granger. Never love anyone, it makes you weak. It makes you lose all rational thought."
"I- Yes, master," I said. "Who did you love?" I asked, half expecting a scathing reply.
She glared at me. "The man whose colours you wear on your robes," she said. "I shouldn't have, but I did, and in the end, I died because of it."
-()-
-Draco-
People were gathering outside the Great Hall before everyone would make their way down to the train station. Or well, most people would, I was not among them.
The winter break would prove a perfect opportunity to make some progress on my mission. It also meant that I didn't have to see her. I didn't have to smell her scent. I didn't have to feel the knives plunging into my heart.
No!
Daphne didn't like Potter, she only pretended to do it because it benefitted her. That was how Daphne worked.
Yet the image of Daphne and Potter together gnawed at my mind. Could there be something?
No.
No.
No.
If only saying it made me believe it. My entire being wanted to believe it, I wanted to know it, but I couldn't. It was within reach, but I was held back from it like a dog was held back by a leash.
If I succeeded with this mission, Dumbledore would die. If he did, Hogwarts would fall, Potter would be outlawed and killed. I would get Daphne.
She would be mine to embrace, but then, the wizarding world would falter.
If I failed with the mission, Dumbledore wouldn't die. Potter would live and keep Daphne forever; but the world –my world– would prosper.
What did I want the most?
-()-
-Daphne-
The green and grey scenery of the British countryside was flashing in front of my eyes in an endless stream. My eyes looked at all of it, for hours, but they weren't fixed on anything.
A pair of emerald irises floated in front of me; a warm and intense pressure was on my lips, in my mind, at least.
Potter wouldn't go home for the holidays. He was still at the castle, physically, at least, he haunted me like a ghost.
The sound of a door sliding open, then a resounding bang floated from the outskirts of the compartment. Someone cleared their throat next to me. I blinked a couple of times, until my eyes were back in the real world, the lesser world.
Tracey was smiling at me knowingly. "Okay, now that Pansy's left, let it out."
I yawned and gave her an unimpressed look. "What is there to let out?"
"Hmm… I don't know, perhaps why you've been staring outside the window, daydreaming like you're an infatuated teenage girl?"
"I'm not infatuated with anyone," I said firmly.
Tracey raised her eyebrows. "Of course not," she said with a knowing smile. "But would you care to explain your sudden interest in the beauty of nature?"
I sighed. "Tracey, I expected a lot of different things from yesterday evening, somehow, not a single one of those things happened. I'm just thinking, reevaluating."
"Reevaluating?" She laughed at me. "What did you and Potter do? Brew a potion? What is there to reevaluate? Knowing you; you went to the dance, begrudgingly danced with him a couple of times, socialised with some well-known aristocrat, and that was that." Tracey looked at me as if I was a puzzle to be solved. "But you're sitting here as if in a daze." She looked me in the eyes. "You don't have to tell me exactly what happened, please just tell me if this new behaviour is because of something good, or something bad."
Tracey leaned back against the tired leather seat, chewing on her lips. I stared at her.
I was just about to say 'something bad' when I stopped myself. Potter asked to kiss me. There really wasn't any better indicator that he was liking me than that. Unless he somehow figured out my scheme to hurt him and played along?
Could he have done that?
I didn't know, but how could he have found out? I hadn't told anyone about it, at least not the specifics. Draco, I –kind of– told him. He was a danger to this whole operation.
I resisted the urge to slap myself on the head. How could I have been so foolish? If I failed… I gulped and tried to suppress the images of the Dark Lord, what he could do, what he would do.
The further along I got along this road, the more in danger I would be. Potter would be…unhappy if he found out. Voldemort would be unhappy if I failed.
Voldemort would torture me until my heart gave up, and Potter would-
What would he do? Something far more merciful than the Dark Lord, I was sure.
"Hello?" Tracey was waving her hand in front of me, her forehead creased in concern. "Daphne, you here?"
"Yes," I said calmly. "As for the answer to your question…" I paused, and at the speed of lighting, I said: "it was good, very good."
I didn't even have to fake the blush.
Tracey hummed thoughtfully. "Huh, who could have guessed? Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass can actually get along." She smiled. "Isn't that great, Daphne? I mean, all of last year, you were so sure that he was awful –and he probably was, a little– but now, he seems different, no?"
I nodded. "He's. . ." The words got stuck on my tongue like they had been dipped in glue. "He's cool," I settled for meekly.
"He's cool?" Tracey said, incredulous. "What the fuck does that mean? You come back, all dreamy-eyed, say something 'very good' has happened, and now, he's only 'cool'?"
I shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."
Tracey scoffed, then she paused and looked at me with a little suspicion. "Daphne," she said. "Out of curiosity, how close would you say that you and Potter are?" Her head was tilted, an easy smile resting on her face.
I didn't believe that face for a moment.
"We're friends, I think," I said slowly. "But nothing more."
"Nothing more," Tracey repeated. "Good to know."
I didn't respond. Instead opting to continue my reprieve, looking outside the window.
Countryside disappeared and soon, houses and roads and railways and factories became more and more common. Until the train stopped with a frightened screech and remained silent.
Tracey levitated her trunk off the rack like they were mere balloons. "I'll see you during the break, right?" Tracye asked. "You'll come over for a day or two, as usual?"
I nodded. "I'll make some time."
Tracey rolled her eyes. "Make sure you do." She paused just before she exited the compartment. "And Daphne, make sure you send a letter or two to your boyfriend."
She was gone before my brain even registered what she said. I glared at her; or the memory of her. She thought she knew things she didn't know.
Potter wasn't my boyfriend.
"Boyfriend," I whispered to myself.
I liked the sound of it.
I exited the compartment, trunk in tow.
The platform was a stew of bodies and layers of clothes, seasoned with sweat and the stabbing cold December. Despite the convoluted mess, I felt like a lighthouse in an endless sea. Heads turned to face me like I was magnetic, adults, children, elderly, even the occasional dog or owl stared at me like I had grown an extra head.
Every single one of them must have thought the same thing.
'So she is Harry Potter's girlfriend?'
Countless eyes turned my way, my own felt heavy as stones and were drawn tightly to my feet. I didn't dare look up, see their scorn, amusement and mockery.
I heard a man snort, a girl giggle and a boy whisper something to his friend. It shouldn't even have been possible, but my senses were alert as if someone was about to strike me in the back.
If I could only reach the corner where my parents always were. Yet the way there felt endless; it was unreachable, twisting and turning.
I felt my legs shake beneath me, as if my weight had been tripled. I froze like I was struck by 'glacius'. My heart was beating, everyone was staring at me.
Why couldn't they just stop looking, didn't they have anything better to do?
How pathetic, how utterly pathetic of people to only stand and stare at me like I was a fucking exhibition. Was that how they wanted to waste their lives?
Why should I be nervous around people like this? Why do they matter? Why do I let them matter?
Potter was right.
I looked up, my head light as a balloon. A girl and boy were standing hand in hand, looking at me with different expressions. The boy looked puzzled, the girl looked positively green with suppressed envy.
I smirked at her victoriously; telling her wordlessly: "I was the one who got Potter, not you."
Then my eyes settled on her boyfriend, whom I observed, top to toe. He was dressed worse than a fifteenth century pauper, but I didn't let my opinion show. The boy blushed crimson and his eyes settled nervously on my feet.
I smirked at the girl again and left with light steps, daring anyone to look at me.
Potter was right.
-()-
-Harry-
I was back; back at the spot where just one day ago, it had happened.
My mind had been spinning like a carousel ever since. A carousel of grins, doubts and red. Everything was red.
Greengrass in that dress had done something to me. When I returned to my dormitory –late at night– I was lying in my bed, just staring at the ceiling with a smile not even a black hole could erase.
She kissed me. She leaned in. She initiated.
I didn't know what I was thinking when I asked her if I could kiss her, there was no way she would say yes, she didn't like me, not like that.
A shower of ice hadn't been able to cool my desire to just run all the way to the Slytherin common room for more the night before, and well, if she was still in school. . .
The image of Greengrass, with her ravenous dress, her hair of gold and face of a goddess, had been burned into my mind.
How could I have allowed this to happen?
I wanted to regret it, I wanted to say: 'I shouldn't have allowed myself to become attached', I wanted. . . to spend more time with her.
That was all I could feel, empty and void because she had gone home from the holidays. I longed to just go to Greengrass' room, find her in all her gorgeous glory and banter a little, and then enjoy her, and let her enjoy me.
I was an idiot, but for the first time in a very long while, I smiled when I woke up, and felt light when I thought about the future.
