"I feel better now," Theo breathed out, his hands resting on his knees as he hunched over. He quickly collected himself, wiping his lips with the back of his hand after puking his brains out.
Hermione grimaced and looked away, feeling a wave of disgust from the faint smell of Theo's stomach acid mixed with the decomposing body of their late peer and the fresh blood of Filch.
"What are we gonna do? There are two dead bodies in this bathroom," Pansy said, clearly panic-stricken. Hermione could tell that a million thoughts were running through Pansy's head.
As much as Hermione felt a sick joy seeing Pansy's usual mean-girl facade crack under these circumstances, she was determined to ensure no one took the blame for this. After all, it was no one's fault. Hermione could vouch for everyone, and their stories would all match.
"We go to McGonagall. We tell her the truth, everything that just happened," Hermione said firmly.
"Do you really think this'll go over well with the Headmistress? We've broken at least twenty school rules, and we've only been back here two months!" Theo raised a concern.
"Yeah, I'm with him on this," Blaise agreed. "Half of Hogwarts already hates us."
"When the entire school finds out, it'll only be a matter of time before this reaches the Ministry. The rumors—they'll be wicked awful," Pansy ran her fingers frantically through her short dusk hair.
Hermione knew that they were talking about the alcohol on school property, drinking on school grounds, and the usage of school property to commit bodily harm. She also knew that all of that could be overlooked. If anything, they could leave out the alcohol, easily discarding it and scrubbing it from their stories during the investigation. Hermione was well aware of her reputation, which she had carefully cultivated in a world ready to scrutinize her for any little mistake. If they could make their stories as simple as a teacher trying to kill them, it would be easy for all of them. They couldn't possibly punish her and Neville for this. Maybe for the Slytherins, they'd extend their detention services, but they didn't all need to suffer more than necessary. Hermione was sure of it.
"No, the Ministry will send Aurors, and they'll conduct an investigation. It'll all work out. They'll see it was just a terrible accident where we acted in self-defense," Hermione reassured them.
"No offense, Granger, but we're not so much worried about you. You and Longbottom will be just fine. Not to mention you've got Potter, who won't hesitate to put himself on the line to keep your image squeaky clean. But us..." Draco pointed to himself and his friends "We're on civil probation. The Ministry will jump at any chance to show that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. They'll want to make an example out of us, show all of Wizarding Britain what happens to Death Eaters and their kin, no matter how young or old. It'll be like winning the Quidditch World Cup for the tabloids."
Draco wasn't as daft as Hermione sometimes wished he were. After all, he had been second only to her in their class rankings until sixth year. If she were in their shoes, she would feel similarly. However, if their experiences hadn't taught them anything—though she wasn't betting much on that—they should know that the right thing wasn't always the easiest. But doing the right thing would always work out in their favor. The world and the Ministry might even see them as reforming, trying to do and be better. It was the noble thing to do.
"We'll stick to the story. Filch killed Corner and tried to do the same to us!" Hermione asserted.
"They'll never believe that!" Pansy exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "They'll say one of us did something to Filch and that it was our fault. They'll probably say we killed Corner too!"
Hermione couldn't completely disagree with Pansy's concerns, but she couldn't afford to be negatively associated with this situation. It would tarnish her future, Neville's future, and even have a negative impact on Muggle-borns, Harry Potter, McGonagall, and perhaps even Ron's legacy. They had no choice but to tell the Headmistress, whether they liked it or not. After all, McGonagall had seen them all as redeemable enough to create the detention program in the first place. Anxiety fluttered in Hermione's heart as she considered the prospect of speaking to McGonagall.
"This is all your fault! Why the bloody fuck did you not just run to McGonogall? You shouldn't have come here!" Pansy's voice echoed through the bathroom. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but her frustration overshadowed any hint of vulnerability as she irrationally pointed the finger at Hermione.
Hermione's mind spun with disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. How could they possibly blame her for this dire situation? She had been running for her life. The weight of Pansy's accusations unsettled her, igniting a fire within her own spirit. "My fault? Are you out of your mind?" Hermione's voice rose, crackling with both indignation and self-defense. "I didn't ask for any of this! How could I have possibly known that you would all be lingering in the bathrooms after detention hours?! I had a plan before I ran into you!"
"You set us up! You had to have planned all of this. You hate us so much-you always have!" The accusation hung in the air, thick with tension and misunderstanding.
Hermione only hated them because they hated her. She always sensed it. With or without their constant torment through her years at Hogwarts. They saw her as less than, unworthy, dirty for simply existing.
It only made sense to return the sentiment.
Hermione's eyes blazed with a mix of rage and shock, her voice cutting through the suffocating atmosphere. "If I wanted to get rid of you, I wouldn't resort to something like this! I could have left you behind, let Filch catch you while I went for help. But I didn't. So don't you dare accuse me of doing any of this on purpose!"
Pansy's words grew sharper. "You selfish filthy muggle-born breeds, you're all the bloody same-"
"Enough, Pansy!" Draco's voice thundered through the bathroom, his tone commanding and filled with restrained fury.
Hermione's gaze snapped to Draco, her breath catching in her throat. There was something intriguing about the intensity in his eyes, a frightening spark.
For a moment, one that felt like an eternity, Hermione could only process the quiet pattered sounds of their meshed breathing and the ghostly echoes of the castle. That eternal moment was almost peaceful. Hopefully peaceful that she'd wake up and it would be a terrible nightmare.
"If there's no body, there's no crime." Neville interjected, slicing through the silence with a chilling statement.
Everyones heads snapped toward him. A domino effect of pure dread.
"Neville," Hermione exclaimed, exasperated by his suggestion. She stared at her friend, his face covered in dried blood. It made him look mad, like he had lost his grip on reality. What could he possibly be thinking? Perhaps he was still coming down from the adrenaline of fighting off Filch.
"I killed him, Hermione," Neville confessed. "They shouldn't get the blame for this."
Of course, Neville was feeling guilty again. He had felt guilty when she attacked Lavender because he had told her what rumors Lavender was spreading. Neville was just a kind person, a good friend deserving of wonderful things. He was defending Hermione, defending all of them. However, reporting what had just happened was the only option for them. It would be impossible for someone not to notice the absence of two Hogwarts entities.
"Are you suggesting we get rid of two corpses?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
"I couldn't control myself. I didn't even know I was that strong." Neville responded, his voice filled with desperation and fear. "The storm... I can't explain it."
It was Hermione's fault that Neville was involved in this mess. He shouldn't have been there. She had dragged him into it because she, too, couldn't control herself. Neville looked genuinely afraid, not just of the possible consequences but of himself. He was simply trying to protect Hermione from rumors, from a terrible narrative that could tarnish her reputation. He knew how important her image was. And he had come to her. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Ron would do in this situation. Ron had a tendency to be cowardly and distant, often abandoning them in times of need. Was she becoming like that?
Thinking of Ron wouldn't help. She loves him, or rather, she had loved him. He was gone now.
Hermione took a deep breath, realizing that it was only fair to look out for Neville as well. She had to put herself on the line to protect him.
"Fine," she hesitated, unable to believe she was going to say this. She didn't even feel like herself. It felt as if she were detached from her own body as she uttered the next words. "We'll... need to bury the bodies."
Neville's face softened in slight relief. "I was thinking the pumpkin patch behind Hagrid's cottage."
Hermione's eyes widened at the suggestion. She was regretting everything. Neville wasn't thinking it through. Hagrid tended to his pumpkin patch frequently and knew every detail of the land. It wouldn't take long for him to notice if someone had dug a hole there. He would investigate it, and Hermione could already envision the shock on Hagrid's face when at discovering two dead bodies. He would immediately call the Aurors and McGonagall. It would only hasten their journey to Azkaban.
"How are we going to move two dead bodies through and out of the castle without drawing any attention? It's almost supper time." It seemed like Draco was reading her mind.
As it was nighttime, they could cover more ground, but it would be riskier without a solid plan and route. Neville was right: if there were no bodies, there would be no crime. But Hermione had no idea how to make two bodies disappear. They needed to find a safe and non-hazardous, untraceable method. Hermione realized there was no time for research. Perhaps they could temporarily store the bodies until they figured out a way to dispose of them permanently.
That could work.
"We can't wait until tomorrow; it's too risky," Hermione explained, her mind working quickly. "Filch will still be in the stages of rigor mortis, but Corner clearly has been dead for more than twenty-four hours. The putrid smell he's emitting will only get worse, and it's only a matter of time before someone discovers it. We can dig up the new Wiggentree that Professor Sprout planted in the greenhouse gardens. The temperature there needs to be frigid enough for the magical preservation. We can entomb them there temporarily until we figure out how to dispose of them."
"Yeah, and the bowtruckles will protect it once it fully roots, so we won't have to worry about someone cutting it down." Neville seemed relieved at Hermione's suggestion.
Theo laughed exasperatedly, sharing Hermione's astonishment. "I don't know how I feel about letting two Gryffindors decide our fate. Draco, can't you use your Seer ability to tell us if this will work?"
"I don't know how I did it! When I saw everything, Filch-he started killing everyone and it's like time stood still. Then, it just happened."
"Merlin's tit! What's the use." Theo muttered in frustration.
"Would you shut the fuck up for once?" Blaise's tone turned icy as he grew fed up with Theo's comments. Hermione smirked, satisfied that someone put this obnoxious, brown-haired boy in his place. Blaise then turned to Hermione with a caustic desperation. "We're listening. Wiggentree, right? How do we do this without anyone noticing?"
"First, we'll need our wands to clean up this place." Hermione explained. "Who still has their magic?"
Theo raised his hand. "It's a little rickety, but it's still there."
"It's a little weak, but I managed to perform a Vanishment in Transfiguration today." Blaise shrugged.
"Great." Hermione nodded. "We'll wait until dinner when everyone is in the Great Hall to make our move. We can use a concealment charm and levitate the bodies."
"I can get into Filch's tool room and retrieve our wands." Pansy hesitantly uncrossed her arms.
"I'll go with you," Blaise offered protectively. It had only been minutes since they discovered Pansy's frightening ability. If the wrong person touched her, it could end terribly.
"Won't it look suspicious if all of us happen to be absent for dinner?" Theo interjected.
"We all need to attend supper." Hermione thought quickly.
"And how exactly are we going to manage that and move two decaying bodies through the castle without anyone noticing?" Theo gestured dramatically.
Annoyed, Hermione huffed. "We'll need to split up. Neville, Blaise, and I will show up for supper early and stay through it for the first thirty minutes. That'll give the three of you time to move the bodies through the castle and behind the greenhouses. Once you're done, go to the Great hall, we'll swap places with you three so we can finish moving them, you can have your meal, and in exactly forty minutes, meet us at Greenhouse 7. That will give us enough time to carry the bodies there without raising any unnecessary suspicion. Plausible deniability."
"Plausible deniability?" Draco questioned, his frown lines mildly evident as he let the words simmer on his lips momentarily. Hermione prepared herself for a retort, a sarcastic comment, or possibly an insult. In some hopeful world, he would side with Hermione and encourage everyone to go to McGonagall.
"...It's brilliant," Draco finally admitted.
Pansy and Blaise nodded in agreement.
Hermione felt internally defeated. She reminded herself that she was the reason Neville had to endure this in the first place. If she had kept herself together the way she had always forced herself to, none of this would have happened
.
"Are you alright, Hermione?"
"Hm?" She snapped out of her thoughts, realizing Neville was speaking to her.
"Oh, no, I'm fine. Just a bit frustrated."
Neville furrowed his brow. "Did something happen?"
"Were my instructions difficult to understand?" Her voice held a sharp edge.
Neville hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Er... I don't think so."
She let out a frustrated sigh and stabbed a roasted tomato with her fork, the action more forceful than necessary. The tangy juices burst in her mouth, mirroring the anger building within her. Hermione imagined the same force enveloping Draco's head. "Then why is Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table with Blaise, laughing preposterously, as if Theo and Pansy couldn't benefit from having the extra muscle?" Her words were a raspy whisper, but a few odd glances from Gryffindors nearby made her realize it wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Did he forget that our wands are useless? Not only did the storm give us these impractical abilities, but it also weakened our magic." Hermione swallowed the remainder of her food forcefully. "And Theo exerted the last of what he had fixing the windows Filch broke through."
She needed to distract herself physically, to quell the rising temper and frustration. Hermione snatched an apple from the bowl at the center of the table and took a large bite, her gaze fixed on Draco, who hadn't once glanced her way. It was as if he knew she was waiting for him to meet her eyes, but he intentionally avoided it. She shook her foot restlessly, second-guessing the entire plan and regretting not going straight to McGonagall instead. If Draco continued like this, he would ruin any possibility of their plan succeeding.
"Hermione?" Cormac McLaggen's voice interrupted her thoughts. He was another fellow Gryffindor. Ash blonde hair, fair build, and attractive. Some would call him a golden trophy for any young witch. To Hermione, he was just McLaggen. Overly suffocating, bleary eyed, Mclaggen.
Hermione turned her head to face him. "What?"
He looked taken aback, his gaze focused on her face. "Are you alright? Your face..."
Confused, she glanced at Neville, who pointed at her cheek. Hermione's embarrassment washed over her as she realized she must have been a sloppy eater. She attempted to wipe her face with the back of her robes but winced in pain. The touch sent a sharp sting through her skin. Lightly gliding her finger over the area, she discovered a fresh scratch just below her jawline.
"Sorry, I'm fine. I can get a little eager flipping through the pages of Spellman's Syllabary."
Neville nudged her gently, a signal that it was time to go. Hermione perked up, seizing the opportunity. "I was just lost in thought-Neville, we should head to the library before it closes to help you find that book you were looking for."
"Right, that book about... helping... to help... the book that..." Neville struggled to recall, his words trailing off.
Hermione's eyes widened as she spotted Pansy and Theo entering the Great Hall. She glanced at Neville, signaling with her head that they needed to leave.
"See you later, guys." Neville quickly stood up and followed Hermione.
As they walked briskly down the rows of the dining hall and stepped into the hallway, they didn't have to wait long for Draco and Blaise to join them. Hermione pushed herself off the wall and brushed past Draco without acknowledging him.
"She's in the spirit," Draco remarked.
"She's upset that you're here," Neville replied to Draco when Hermione continued to ignore him, keeping her pace ahead.
"You were supposed to stick to the plan," Hermione finally said, her tone snide.
Draco chuckled lightly. "I was famished. Surely you can understand."
Hermione huffed. "I don't." She clipped her words. She should have known better than to assume someone like Draco or Blaise, any Slytherin for that matter, would be able to follow simple directions—especially when so much was at stake. Weren't Slytherins supposed to be self-preserving?
Suddenly, Hermione was overcome with a presence in her head—fast-paced thoughts invading her senses:
I've got to tell the boys about this... Merlin, I don't know how long I can hold... bloody tight...
She gasped, attempting to push away the intrusive voice. The explicit sounds and images invading her mind made her feel queasy, and she stopped in her tracks, trying to regain control.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Neville asked, concerned.
"Granger," Draco interrupted, watching her closely, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "You're hearing something," he stated more than asked.
"Hearing what?" Blaise inquired.
Hermione looked at them, realizing they understood. "It's a student-a couple. They're... you know..." The words trailed off, the implications hanging in the air.
"This isn't the time to exert prefect authority." Draco's hair lightly shuffled around his forehead as he spoke. It was obnoxiously distracting. She glared at him, feeling hot with anger. She wished she could turn off the intrusiveness of what she heard. They were probably coming from some classroom nearby, not posing any real threat to them. It was disturbing, to be frank, and she wanted to distance herself from it.
"We can take this corridor," Neville suggested. "Better not to interrupt."
They all nodded and headed in that direction.
"I wasn't planning on reporting them." Hermione whispered poutingly. She was slightly offended by Draco's comment. Her discomfort was clearly mistaken for her reputation of being a tattle tale. Well, she wasn't a tattle tale. She followed the rules. When rules were broken, there are consequences. This was Hogwarts, not some alternative school for troubled youth.
"You mean you weren't going to ruin someone's fun?" Draco smirked.
Before she could even begin, Hermiones impending retort was cut off as Draco's hand covered her mouth. The sudden gesture only fueled her anger, and she glared at him with fierce intensity. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts and emotions, a mixture of frustration, annoyance, and an inexplicable tension.
Just as the storm inside Hermione threatened to burst, Neville's urgent whisper broke through the haze. "It's Lavender Brown."
The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of the danger they were facing. Hermione knew they couldn't afford to be seen, not if they wanted to maintain a solid alibi for their plans. Without hesitation, they scattered, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Hermione struggled to keep up, her feet stumbling along as Draco pulled her into a concealed alcove. Neville disappeared into his own hiding spot, leaving no trace of his presence. Blaise, too, vanished into the shadows, his agility a testament to his apparent quick reflexes.
Leaning against the cold stone wall, Hermione struggled to catch her breath, her wide eyes fixed on Draco as they stood in the dimly lit space. Their proximity was uncomfortably close, a stark reminder of their previous encounter. It was as if the universe conspired to keep throwing them together.
She chalked it up to terrible luck.
In the silence of the alcove, Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched, creaky voice that resonated in her mind. Lavender's voice, sharp and clear, invaded her senses:
I swear I heard that dodgy little witch.
The words she heard were laced with malice and an eagerness. It sent a shiver filled with vengeance down Hermione's spine. It was a stark jab to the unspoken pain that existed within the walls of Hogwarts, even among Gryffindors. Hermione's grip tightened at the hem of her skirt. It was clear as day that Lavender was back to her old self. The Confundus charm she'd impulsively thrown her way had worn off. It wouldn't hurt to do it again. This time, Hermione could Obliviate her, too. Then she wouldn't have to face any consequences.
Just as Hermione prepared to act on her impulse and send another Confundus charm towards Lavender, Draco's hand tightened around her arm. His touch, a mixture of warning and restraint, prevented her from carrying out her impulsive plan. The pressure of his grip served as a physical reminder that they needed to remain hidden and avoid unnecessary confrontations. She despised Draco's interference, but she couldn't ignore the small measure of relief she felt as another student just feet away called out for Lavender.
Draco's eyes met Hermione's, and for a brief moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. She found herself reluctantly grateful for Draco's intervention.
But there was no time for contemplation.
Hermione pushed aside her conflicting emotions and focused on the task at hand. Lavender's threat no longer hung in the air, and they needed to regroup to ensure their safety and the success of their mission.
Draco cleared his throat, bringing Hermione back to the present. Their close proximity was suddenly too noticeable, and she slapped Draco's hand away from her face, shuffling out of the alcove. "We should keep moving. Where's Blaise?"
"I thought he was with you." Neville inhaled wearily.
"That's not like him." Draco shook his head, his concern evident.
The urgency in his voice was palpable, sending shivers down her spine. Losing Blaise now was simply not an option, especially when their meticulously planned mission was on the precipice of reaching a critical point. The close encounter with Lavender served as a stark reminder of the dangers that loomed around them, threatening to derail their carefully constructed alibi. Hermione's mind ran through the mental checklist of everything that needed to be done. The bodies needed to be concealed, evidence erased, and alibis solidified. It was a daunting task. "We don't have time to figure it out. We've wasted enough as it is. We can find him later."
.
.
The area behind the Greenhouses was shrouded in darkness, the fall chill casting an eerie fog over the scene. Hermione, Neville, and Draco had made their way there, their steps cautious and deliberate. Hermione's heart thrummed wildly in her chest as they approached their hiding spot. The weight of her-their actions hung heavy in the air, magnified by the dryness that seemed to consume the surroundings.
Their eyes darted nervously as they uncovered the magically concealed bodies, the truth of their hidden sins now exposed. Together, they worked in a grim silence, their hands moving with purpose as they carefully moved the bodies to Greenhouse 7, the chosen burial site. The soil clung to their skin, mingling with the scent of earth and decay.
Pansy and Theo had arrived just in time, their presence providing some semblance of relief amidst the latent hostility. With determined efficiency, they joined forces, working together to dig a hole deep enough to conceal the evidence of their misdeeds. The rhythm of their shovels hitting the ground echoed through the night, punctuated only by the sound of their heavy breathing.
Now, as they stood around the pot of dirt, dusting their hands clean, Hermione felt the slow journey of cold sweat dangle and drip from the tip of her nose. The darkness of the night seemed to mirror the growing unease in her heart. Anxiety gnawed at her from within, twisting her insides with teetering regret. This was her plan, her idea, and now they were burying the consequences. Theo, visibly exhausted and drained, leaned on his knees, gasping for breath. "I'm all out. There's nothing left inside of me," he wheezed, his voice strained. Hermione couldn't help but internally rejoice at watching the usually glib Slytherin heave for breath. It was a cruel thought, she scolded herself. This wasn't how she wanted things to be.
Draco, offering a small gesture of support, placed a comforting hand on Theo's back. "That's because you emptied yourself in pots of Moly plants," he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. His voice, though lighthearted, did little to ease Hermione's growing unease.
"Moly is a powerful healing plant, and you've just wasted your bowel chunks on them," Hermione exasperated. Of course Theodore Nott would squander a perfectly useful asset with his vomit.
Draco rolled his eyes dismissively, seemingly unfazed. He continued to scoop the remaining dirt, his uniform sleeves rolled up, the crease just between his brows serving as a testament to his deep thoughts. Hermione's assessment of Draco was short-lived as Pansy's voice interrupted her inner turmoil.
"No one cares about those stupid flowers. I'm just glad it's over." Pansy picked at the dirt between her fingernails, her weariness seeping through her words. "This stays between us. If anyone ever finds out, we're all done for."
Draco nodded in agreement, a solemn expression etched on his dirt-splotched face, a stark contrast against his pale skin. "We don't tell anyone about this," he declared, his silver eyes glimmering with a dark determination. "We don't need to be drawing attention to ourselves." His words resonated with Hermione, stirring her anxiety further. The magnitude of what they had done was sinking in, the consequences felt insurmountable.
Theo, now standing upright again, a mix of exhaustion and levity in his gaze, echoed Draco's sentiment. "What he said." His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat for Hermione.
Pansy turned her attention to Neville and Hermione, her skepticism evident in her eyes. "Can you two keep a secret?" Pansy couldn't even attempt to conceal her doubt.
Neville nodded his head vigorously, a steadfast resolve written on his scrunched brows. He picked up a shovel and patted a small lump of dirt where just beneath lay their defect of moral purity. "We just buried a teacher and a student," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. His words struck a chord within Hermione, intensifying her feelings of guilt. This was her fault, her responsibility. Neville didn't deserve to bear this burden. He looked to Hermione then back down to the ground. "The secret is buried with them."
She wanted to hate herself.
Part of Hermione wanted to cry for Neville, for the innocent soul who had been dragged into this mess because of her. The obstinate resolve she saw in Neville made her feel grief-stricken.
Pansy's gaze then shifted to Hermione, a silent challenge of persuasion in her eyes. "You're famous and Muggle-born. You're probably more screwed than the rest of us." Her words pierced through Hermione's already fragile state of mind. It did nothing but fuel her anxiety and self-doubt.
Draco stepped in, addressing Hermione directly but looking at Pansy as if he was warning her not to start a scene. "You're the famous golden girl," his voice a mixture of admiration and resignation. "There's no going back from here." His words cut like a dagger to the heart. The weight of her reputation, her achievements, and her standing in the magical world pressed upon her, threatening to crush her spirit.
Meeting Draco's gaze, Hermione straightened her spine, her hand gripping the handle of the shovel with white-knuckled determination. "I don't want anyone to know." The finality of what she said brooked no argument. The labels she would receive, the judgment and ostracism that awaited her, felt unbearable. Her mind raced with images of a bleak future stripped of her magic and memories, forced into a mundane and false life. The thought of it churned her stomach, acid searing her throat. Everything she had worked for, sacrificed, everything she had lost, would be worth not even one Galleon.
"Does anyone know what happened to Blaise?" Neville voiced his concern, his gaze searching the group for answers. Hermione's attention shifted, momentarily distracted from her inner turmoil. She didn't particularly like any of the Slytherins she was forced to associate with, but she knew that Blaise's disappearance was peculiar.
"I knew it didn't take much to rattle that prig. I saw through his bluff from a mile away." Theo scoffed.
"No, you didn't." Draco's voice held a touch of irritation as he responded. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the interaction, finding a momentary relief in the playful banter. "Blaise is loyal. You know that," he asserted, his gaze meeting Hermione's.
"Well, he's not here, so what am I supposed to think? Maybe he got tired of our company and decided to elope with a unicorn." Theo couldn't resist injecting his signature brand of flippancy.
Draco rolled his eyes at Theo's comment, clearly unamused. "That's the problem, you don't think," Draco began collecting the shovels and made them disappear with what little magic he had within. "He was with us up until Lavender Brown almost found us out. I went with Granger instead of him because of what I saw if I didn't. The problem with interfering and changing the course of events is I don't get to predict the alternative outcome."
Hermione looked at Draco, her eyes searching for answers. "Is that why you didn't stick to the plan? Because you saw into the future again?"
It was starting to make sense. He hadn't followed her directions simply because he was an insufferable cockroach-she isn't denying he is otherwise-he had been trying to intervene in her plans going awry.
"Yeah." Draco's hesitation was evident as he gave Hermione a strained nod, his face reflecting the weight of the knowledge he carried. "I saw something-I had to stop it."
As the group braced themselves for Draco's revelation, a sudden crack shattered the silence, jolting the group into a state of alarm. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened in disbelief as they turned toward the source of the sound. The arrival of Blaise Zabini, almost out of thin air, brought a mixture of relief and surprise. But even in that moment, her anxiety and regret lingered, overshadowing the flicker of hope that Blaise's return brought.
"I'm not a fucking prig, Nott." Blaise wore a deep, irritated frown.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?!" Pansy wasted no time in voicing her astonishment.
"I've been here the entire time." Blaise huffed with impatience, his voice tinged with fatigue.
"Erm, I think we would have noticed you." Draco, caught off guard by Blaise's sudden appearance, stumbled over his words.
Blaise let out a tired sigh. "I nearly damaged my vocal cords trying to get your attention before realizing I was invisible. I gave up and followed you anyway. I never left your side."
As the group processed Blaise's explanation, a swirl of magical wonder and disbelief washed over Hermione. She couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events, their misfit group now complete once more.
"If you all want to sulk and fondle each other over this, be my guest," Pansy, growing weary of the situation, mumbled. "It's cold, I'm tired, I can't touch anyone without getting mauled, and I'd really like to forget any of this happened."
Theo, glancing at Blaise, finally spoke up, hand scratching the back of his neck. "All that I said, questioning your loyalty-I was joking. I knew you were listening."
Blaise responded with an icy glare and a playful yet firm clap to the back of Theo's. "C'mon, before I put you six feet under myself,"
With Pansy leading the way, the group began to follow her, their steps heavy with the weight of their shared secret. Within Hermione, a funnel of emotions ate at her, grateful for the reemergence of Blaise yet burdened by the choices they had made. Even as they separated, even as Hermione tried to express her guilt and apologies to Neville, even when Neville firmly assured her she had nothing to apologize for, she wept helplessly under her canopied enclosed bed promising to come clean to McGonogall tomorrow morning.
