It was a fine day for April, and Hermione was not in a rush for once. Harry was with Professor Dumbledore, looking at the memory he finally had retrieved from Slughorn. He and Hermione had agreed to meet at the lake. Hermione had saved some muffins from tea, just in case Harry was hungry after his lesson.
When she arrived at the lake, she sat down on the blanket she had brought, tugged her feet under her legs and opened her book. For once she was not after information about horcruxes. She had brought a novel and was soon involved in the plot so much, that she forgot about her surroundings.
She had reached an exciting scene where the hero of the book had to escape a roaring fire, when her brain registered a sound, that did not fit, splashes, but only as if from small pebbles. She raised her head and saw a lone tall figure standing at the shore of the lake. There was no way she could mistake his light hair.
Draco Malfoy let flat stones skip across the water, and they made the light splashes she heard. He bent down and picked up a stone, let it fly, watched it and bent down again. He came closer.
Hermione watched him approach with caution and put her wand within her reach. It was better to be safe than sorry with the ferret.
But for once, Malfoy was not intent on throwing insults or hexes. He seemed to be deep in thought, distracted and his shadow darkened her book before he looked up and saw her.
"Granger", he said, his voice for once devoid of the usual sneer.
Hermione only gave a slight nod, bracing herself for the insult that would certainly come.
"it doesn't make sense, does it? It looks like magic, but anyone can do it", Malfoy said.
Hermione was tempted to scoff, but something in Malfoy's eyes made her stop. A lingering sadness or maybe resignation. Close up, she saw circles under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, as if he had not eaten enough in weeks or maybe not slept enough.
"It's just physics."
"Physics?"
"Yes, physics, the torque is the key, I think."
"Torque?", Malfoy asked. He bit his lip, as if he restrained himself from making a cutting remark about the weird words, Hermione used.
"You spin the stone, don't you? The spinning and the forward movement keep it up in the air, if I remember correctly. Actually, it works on any flat surface for a while, but best on water."
"So, a spinning moment lets it look like magic. I could easily do it with magic of course."
He picked up another stone and raised his wand and let the stone dance above the water. The growing circles of ripples on the lake formed a glittering pattern.
Malfoy picked up another stone and threw it. It bounced seven times, before it sank.
He looked at the place where the stone had sunk, as if he had lost something. He lowered his head and burrowed his fingers in his hair.
"It is all wrong, the whole world is wrong," he suddenly burst out.
He sounded desperate, defeated even, and Hermione was confused.
"Don't be overdramatic, Malfoy. Muggles work with physics all the time to do things, we can do with magic. There is nothing wrong about that."
Malfoy looked at her, the raw pain in his face almost scary.
"That is not what I meant," he whispered.
"What do you mean then?" Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She could not remember ever having talked so long with Malfoy without screaming insults. It was almost as if they had an actual conversation, even if it was a bit weird.
He chuckled, although he did not sound amused at all.
"It took me years to discover a logical fallacy, and now that I have finally understood that, I ….". His grey eyes met hers again and the intensity made Hermione shiver with a feeling she could not pin down.
"What is this wisdom you found?", she asked, seeking refuge in taunting him.
Abruptly, Malfoy let himself fall to sit at her side. He broke eye contact and gazed out on the lake.
"War. People fight wars, for… " he stopped "let's say some reason. They are convinced that they have to protect their own…"
Did Malfoy think that Voldemort wanted to protect wizards and witches? Hermione felt her mouth open in utter disbelief.
"But then suddenly it is not about protection any longer, or about a certain way of living or convictions. It becomes a question of winning."
He moved his head suddenly again and sought an answer in her gaze. Hermione found herself unable not tear her eyes away.
"And then they have to sacrifice lives for winning. Sure, they talk about killing the enemy, but it's not just enemy lives that are on the line. It's the life of their own people as well. What do people do to ensure they win? Threaten their own, if they do not get involved?"
Hermione could have sworn she could see his eyes glittering.
"And in the end, it just means that more people are dead than would have been dead without the war."
"I am not sure, I follow you, apart from the fact, that it should be obvious that dead people are bad news." Hermione said cautiously.
"In the end it comes down to what a life is worth. One life against another, maybe one life against two, against ten? The life of a loved one against someone you hate? Your own life against the life of a stranger? Where is the line? And if there is a line, how would you decide?"
Hermione's heart beat fast in anxiety. Where had Malfoy's mind wandered? Was he talking about Voldemort? Was he a death eater as Harry claimed?
She looked deep into his eyes and saw uncertainty, worry, desperation. She struggled for words.
"A life is a life," she finally said. "I do not think that you can weigh one against another." She stuck her chin out defiantly. "The life of a muggle is as precious as a wizard's or witch's life. Or a house elf's."
Malfoy closed his eyes and inhaled. "Told you I discovered the logical fallacy."
His breathing sounded laboured.
"Either pureblood lives are more important than …" he hesitated. "… the lives of Muggles and Muggleborns or they are not. If they are more important, why risk them at all, if not, why make a difference?"
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Had she just witnessed Malfoy of all people dismantling his prejudice? Had she heard the word Muggleborn?
Malfoy stood again. "As I said. It is all wrong, and I just wish…"
He did not finish the sentence. He picked up another stone and let it skip across the water.
He stepped away, but Hermione called him.
"Hey, Malfoy,"
He turned again.
"You know, starving yourself is not a solution, whatever troubles you."
She took one of the muffins she had brought with her and threw it at him.
"Here, catch".
He had the reflexes of a seeker after all. The muffin landed safely in his hand.
He nodded in thanks, gave her another intense gaze, before he abruptly turned and went away.
Hermione did not tell Harry about this encounter. She barely knew what to make of it.
Chapter 4: The hospital wing, May 12, 1997
Summary:
The discussion at the lake unsettled Hermione, and when Harry hit Draco with the sectumsempra curse she wants to make sure, that he won't die.
Notes:
So, another flash back chapter. For reasons, that will become clear, we don't see Draco's POV. If he seems rather forward here, there is a reason, apart from the fact, that he thinks that he will die.
Chapter Text
Ever since she had talked with Malfoy by the lake, his defeated and desperate eyes had haunted her. Often in class or in the Great Hall she would think about their talk and almost every time she looked up and sought him with her eyes, his eyes were already on her. It unsettled her, but she had not told anyone about the strange encounter. She did not want Harry to continue with his obsession with Malfoy. She told him that it would not lead to anything good. When her predictions came true, she was horrified.
Harry had been white as a sheet. He had tailed Malfoy and had hit him with a terrible curse. It was little consolation that she had been right about that blasted book from the Half Blood Prince. Surely, someone who invented a spell, that would lead to the opponent just bleeding his life out, must have been a dark wizard.
Harry had been extremely vague on his encounter with Malfoy. Hermione suspected that he had a bad conscience because he repeatedly told her that he had no idea what sectumsempra would do, and at the same time he was very vague about what Malfoy actually had done, when Harry had entered the bathroom.
She would get no rest, until she knew if Malfoy was better, or at least until she knew more. She decided that she would try and sneak into the hospital wing after curfew.
It was not difficult, really, to get hold of Harry's invisibility cloak. Her friend was far too careless. She set a buzzing alarm with her wand and shortly after midnight, she got up and sneaked through the castle.
Once she had entered the hospital wing, she took off the cloak. Malfoy would not talk with thin air, if he would talk at all. He was the only student in the hospital wing.
He lay very still, but he was breathing at least, if in an uneasy and heavy rhythm. The moon gave a silvery shimmer to his hair and immersed the room in an almost ethereal light.
Carefully, Hermione approached his bed. His eyes opened almost immediately and the desperation in them made Hermione feel a strange tug at her heart.
"Want to finish Potter's job?", he asked her in a low voice.
She shook her head. "If you thought that, you would have screamed."
"Maybe, I think it would be a good idea."
Hermione decided to not let herself be distracted. "I want to know what happened."
"Potter caught me in a bad moment, we hexed each other, he was faster than me. There is nothing more to know. It should not surprise you. Our fighting was bound to escalate at some time."
"Harry did not know that the spell was so dangerous."
Malfoy scoffed and then shrugged. "Could be. And I was not picky either. He was just faster. Afraid, I'll accuse Potter? Don't be. I won't tell he used a dark curse on me. I don't need anyone looking over my shoulder."
"That is not…," she protested and then stopped herself feeling caught out. She blushed. "That is not the only reason I am here."
Malfoy arched an eyebrow. He seemed amused. "Is this your Gryffindor honesty talking?"
"Stuff it, Malfoy. I really want to know how you are."
"Why do you care?" His eyes bored into her. "You hate me."
"That I dislike you, does not mean, that I want you hurt. You could have died."
She studied his face. His eyes were difficult to read in the moonlight.
"You know, after all you said at the lake….", she inhaled deeply. "For what it's worth. Harry should not have cursed you. It doesn't matter that you hate each other. Nobody should use this curse. And I am sorry."
"Why are you sorry, for something you didn't even do?"
"Maybe I am sorry, because … Harry got that spell from a strange potions book with notes. And it said 'against enemies'. I've told him so many times, he should not trust that book. I am sorry for not stealing that blasted book from him or telling on him to be honest."
"Maybe I am Potter's enemy."
"And maybe you are not.", she contradicted.
She edged closer to his bed. "I can't forget what you told me at the lake. What made you question the whole purebloods are better idea?"
She was startled, when he suddenly sat up.
His voice was soft. "Maybe I am dreaming, and this isn't even happening. Do you really want to know?"
She felt that strange tug again.
"You are not dreaming."
He chuckled. "Let's pretend, I am dreaming, Granger. Let's pretend this is a dream, and we met by chance. It must be a dream, because otherwise I couldn't tell you anything. I said too much already."
"Come closer", he said. "Even in dreams there are unfriendly ears."
Despite herself Hermione sat down on the edge of his bed. Malfoy was right. It somehow felt like a dream. Maybe she was lying in her own bed and the silvery moon spun tales in her mind.
"Do you love your mother, Granger?"
Hermione closed her eyes and pictured her parents. Her heart tightened when she thought about how she could keep them safe, her idea to obliviate them for their own safety. She had not told anybody about it yet and the thought felt like a stone laying heavily on her heart, causing it to make hard thumps against her breastbone, when she allowed herself to feel the enormity of her plan.
"My parents don't understand my world, but they have always supported me. Yes, I love them. And I fear for them. They are in danger simply because of who I am." It felt good to say this aloud, even to Malfoy, of all people.
"He has my mother."
"Who? Volde…."
Hastily, Malfoy put a finger to her lips. His finger was strangely cool on her warm lips and made her shiver.
"She is the leverage he's using to keep me in line. He's all about how we purebloods should rule the world, but then he casually threatens to kill her."
All of a sudden, Hermione was overwhelmed by the rush of pity that engulfed her. It was her nightmare, her parents in the hands of someone like Voldemort. "But, why?"
"Because he is a tyrant, and lives mean nothing to him, not just the life of a muggle or a muggleborn, anybody's life but his own."
He pressed his fingers at his temples. "For years, I was taught that he would see to it that wizards and witches get their rightful place in the world, that we are better. But he does not care, not really."
Hermione could not hold her tongue. "Could have told you that."
He chuckled again. "And what are the chances that I would have believed you? Granger know-it-all?"
She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Don't tell me off. I feel incredibly stupid already."
Hermione had to smile. "Well, you worked it out. I could give you house points."
"House points". He waved dismissively.
Hermione's smile cracked. "What happened to the Draco Malfoy who wanted to win the house cup? The Slytherin seeker who wanted nothing more than to best Gryffindor?", she asked. Suddenly it made sense, Malfoy's withdrawal from Quidditch, his lapse in classes. She dreaded his answer.
"I desperately wish this was all I would care about. But that Draco Malfoy is dead." His voice sounded so strange and detached as if it cost him much to speak them out loud. "I cannot care about these things. I wish I could. But I cannot turn the time, and I cannot be oblivious again."
Hermione felt that strange tug again. "What does he push you to do? For your mother's life?"
On instinct, she laid her hand on his arm, his left arm, that lay on the cover of his bed. He gave a start and flinched.
"Don't", he said. "Don't". Hermione shrank back.
With a sudden movement he pushed his sleeve up and pointed his wand at his arm. For a moment, her vision quavered and then she saw it. The dark mark. It didn't surprise her, not after everything he had said, even though she had defended Malfoy against Harry's suspicions.
"Why would you show me that?"
"You need to understand. If you want to survive, you need to know what he does. How he rules with fear and coercion, how he sets traps for each and every one," he whispered. "How he exploits even our best traits. How he twists it all. Pride, confidence, love. He uses them and then he turns them to bitterness and dust."
He shook his head. "To think that I was stupid enough to be proud to get this …."
Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. "You are not even an adult yet. He should not be using children."
"He should not, but he does, and so does your side. Don't tell me Dumbledore does not use Harry."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but then she nodded.
"What does he want you to do?", she asked.
"It is not important, not really." Malfoy's voice sounded rough. "I came to the conclusion, that he expects me to fail. And he already put someone else in place, just in case…."
His eyes had a strange shimmer to them. Tears, maybe?
"All I can do, is to make enough of an effort, so that my mother is not killed. I tried to take detours." He grimaced. "They didn't work and I almost k…", he stopped himself.
Hermione wanted to cry, but the tears stuck in her throat. "You could defect."
He shook. "I told you, I love my mother. She'd be dead the hour he learns about my defection."
The sentence "he might kill her anyway" lay on the tip of her tongue, but she bit her tongue.
"Look, I do not think I will survive this, but my mother might."
"I could just tell on you," Hermione said.
"Oh, but this is a dream, is it not?"
"I didn't know it was."
"You talk to me, it must be a dream." His smile was surprisingly soft.
When his right hand edged closer to her hand, and he took it in a sudden move, Hermione wondered if he was right. Malfoy taking her hand must be a dream. An event in some alternative reality. Her skin tingled.
He held the knuckles of her fingers in a feathery touch. Hermione could have withdrawn her hand any time, but she stayed still and was painfully aware of her erratically beating heart.
"It is so strange," he whispered. "Do you know what I realized?"
Hermione looked into his eyes and gave a tiny shake of her head.
"I thought I hated you, but I never did. I hated that I could not make sense of you, that you defied what I had learned to be the way of the world. I hated you for scratching at my set beliefs by your very existence. If I would have been able to see that, I might have realised many things sooner."
His eyes were a fathomless depth, that pulled her in. His voice had become a ghost of a whisper.
"I am so sorry, that you had to suffer for my stupidity and conceit. I wish I could unsay every insult I ever threw at you."
Hermione felt like falling. Her head swam. She tried to anchor herself, to get a hold on reality in this strange dreamlike landscape she was in. She gripped his hands hard.
"Malfoy, you do realise that it is very strange to apologize for years of insulting me, just after you showed me that mark."
"I fear I won't get a chance again to say that I'm sorry, but I can stop apologizing, if you want me to."
"You've completely caught me off guard," Hermione admitted. "I probably should answer something…"
He smiled. "You could always tell me, that I was wrong, and you were right." His voice took on a different hue, as if he was imitating her, but Hermione heard no mockery in his voice, just amusement. "'Malfoy, you could have tried it with simple logic.'"
She wondered if he knew her better than she would have suspected. She could not help herself. She had to laugh.
She had long known that the world was not black and white, but suddenly her heart ached with the pain of it all. Draco Malfoy was a death eater, a death eater! Harry had almost killed him by accident, and some might even say, that would have been better. But he did not believe in Voldemort and he had apologised. And then she began to cry because she just couldn't take it any longer.
Somehow, he had taken her in his arms and in this dreamlike world, illuminated by the moon, there was nothing strange about it. She cried into his pyjama until she could feel the wetness of her tears that had soaked the fabric on her cheeks.
"Hermione?". His lips were so very close to her ear.
Hermione raised her head. Her eyes felt swollen from crying. In Draco's eyes she still saw desperation, but also a bittersweet sadness.
"I wish this dream would never end," he said. He raised his hands and framed her face, and lowered his face to hers. They closed their eyes at the same time, and Hermione felt his lips on hers, neither desperate nor passionate, but warm and soft and tender, melting into her. He kissed her until she was not sure she knew where her lips ended and his started. She felt strangely detached from the world. If she had opened her eyes and had found them floating in nothing she would not have been surprised.
But when Draco finally loosened his hold on her face, the hospital room was the same it had been. Her lips burned and her heart fluttered.
"I know that Dumbledore is planning something. I guess you are involved. I just want to say, that I wish you all the luck in the world."
Hermione did never remember how she had returned to the Gryffindor tower nor if she had slept at all. She must have taken the invisibility cloak, because Harry did not complain about it missing, but her memories were a hazy as if she had indeed dreamt, but when she closed her eyes, she could feel his lips on her, and found herself fervently wishing that he was wrong. That he would survive.
Chapter 5: In need of a wand
Summary:
Christmas is over and school will soon start again. Colin Granger-Malfoy dreads this for different reasons.
Notes:
So, this chapter is in the present again. Meet the Granger-Malfoy family at the end of the holidays.
Chapter Text
"Colin has to get a new wand before school starts again," Rina said at breakfast. Colin had almost forgotten that she knew about his wand.
Colin could have strangled his sister. She was far too observant. He didn't really want to be reminded of school, not now, when they were all together and happy. He had put it off for too long, he knew, but he would have rather told his parents on his own terms.
He shot her an angry look, but Rina held his gaze. And mum and dad looked at him as well.
Now, in early January, the Christmas tree did not look that fresh anymore despite the charms mum had placed on the tree. But it still smelled like Christmas, home and family. In a few days, when school started again, they would dispose of the tree. School meant arithmancy, ancient runes and potions, but it also meant his classmates.
Colin didn't usually mind that his only friends at Hogwarts were an old house elf and a very dreamy girl from Ravenclaw, but his broken wand reminded him, that he did not always succeed in evading notice.
"I don't need a new wand, it is not really broken."
His mum was not prone to let that pass and neither was his sister. "I certainly would like to know, how Colin managed to break it in the first place", she said.
Colin flushed. "I told you, Rina, I forgot I had it in the back pocket of my jeans and slipped on the ice. It was slippery as the skin of the giant squid."
Rina just raised an eyebrow and stared at him challengingly. Colin was well aware that she did not believe it.
"Nobody intended for my wand to break," he shouted.
His father who was busy cutting small pieces of toast for Robert, the baby, gave him a quick glance. His eyes flickered ever so shortly.
"Rina, there is no need to pester Colin about a mishap," mum said. "I still want to see that wand, though."
Colin cringed inwardly. Now, he was sure both his parents knew, that slippery ice was not to blame.
Under their scrutinizing eyes he produced his wand.
"It happened on the last Hogsmeade weekend, just before the Christmas break."
"Not really broken…" his dad said. He took the wand with two fingers and brought the lower half into a swing. The grip of the wand slowly circled just above Colin's nose
"Colin, you should have told us."
Colin sunk his head. "Wands are expensive," he muttered. "And with Christmas and all the new books, I wanted to read, I forgot about it. I really forgot. I was so caught up in 'The Lord of the Rings'."
'The Lord of the Rings' had been a present by his parents, and Colin had read it in one go, ears burning with excitement.
Mum sighed. "We need to go to Ollivander's."
"I could go", Rina said. "You give me money, and I'll do it. I am an adult now. If I can get hold of the assistant, she might even be persuaded not to charge the double price."
"Rina!", mum said.
"What? You know, they have charged each of us doubly for wands."
"Hardly, they demand about a third more than from others in my estimation," dad said.
He sighed deeply. "Ollivander is not the problem anyway. He'll sell us a wand. The problem is that I have to go to Gringott's first to change pounds into galleons. Unless you latest client happened to pay on time, Granger?"
"I gave Terry an extension," mum said apologetically. "I could hardly know that we would need galleons in January."
Dad grimaced. "Time for my favourite pastime then."
Colin fought tears. They all knew, save little Robert perhaps, that dad hated the trip to Gringott's. But usually he only had to go once a year just before they had to buy all the school stuff. When Lizzie had entered Hogwarts last summer, it had been a real stretch, Colin knew, although mum and dad had pretended to be all sanguine about three children in Hogwarts.
"Love, you know, Blaise or Pansy would…"
"And they'd probably be hexed for trying. There are just not that many people who need to exchange pounds to galleons. We've talked about this a dozen times. You know I must do it or it will be even worse."
He stood up. "Might as well get it over with."
As always when he came to a decision, he was quick about it.
"I'll text you, when I'm done. I'll take the tube." He went around the baby's stool and stood close to her.
Colin could see the concern in his mother's eyes, but when his father bent down to her to give her a kiss, she masked it quickly and smiled.
"I'll ask Neville for help. I'm sure he'll take Colin to Flourish and Blotts, and you can pick him up there, once you've got ahold of enough galleons."
"Can I come, too? Neville is my uncle as well," his little sister Lizzie chimed in.
"Me, too", Meg cried. "Want to see Neville".
"We'll see what Neville has to say about that."
Uncle Neville would gladly take them all, Colin knew. He would probably get them hot chocolate and spoil them. If Colin was lucky, Neville would buy him a book. His mood lifted, even though he suspected that both his parents would revisit the question of his broken wand.
Mum waved her wand, and a silver otter appeared.
"Ask Neville, if he is free today to take Colin, Lizzie and Meg on a stroll. I have to watch Robert and Draco has business."
The otter ran, leaving small silver sparks in the air.
"Could you go with Colin, if Neville is not free?" mum asked Rina.
Rina scowled. "I want to go with Dad."
"Rina, this is definitely not a good idea," dad said.
"I am an adult now. You told me, that you won't interfere with my decisions."
"We didn't promise not to give you advice, though, Rina," dad said. He put a coat over his arm and then picked up his phone from the table at the door.
"My difficulties in Gringott's are my problem, and mine alone. This shouldn't be perpetuated to the next generation."
He ruffled the baby's hair.
He pointed at the coat.
"Granger, could you give the sleeves the look of being just this side of threadbare?"
Mum raised her eyebrows, questioningly, but waved her wand.
"Thanks, Granger. You know I'll get the money easier, when I give the impression of being already thoroughly humiliated and wounded in my pride."
Dad kissed her again.
Mum shook her head.
"Give them a nice act, Malfoy."
"Last time I was finished by noon."
A silver mongoose appeared just when dad had opened the door to leave.
"I can pick up the children. Lower the wards at about eleven."
Chapter 6: The headmaster's office (June 15, 1997)
Summary:
Hermione seeks advice, still not sure if she should talk about what Draco has told her.
Notes:
So, this is another flash back chapter. I thought that Hermione would have tried to tell someone about Draco, even if she feels that his information was confidential.
I also wanted to explore Dumbledore's scheming character a bit. I do think he is a very grey character, even though his end aim is laudable.
If you like my fic or have any constructive criticism, feel free to comment! I would love it!
Chapter Text
Malfoy had been released from the hospital wing, although he looked as if he should have stayed there another week at least. His presence unnerved Hermione. She still was not entirely sure, if her moonlit visit in the hospital wing had been a dream. How real could it be? Malfoy showing her his mark, apologising and that kiss. She was just grateful that Harry was very preoccupied with Ginny, his girlfriend of a few weeks or he might have begun tailing Malfoy again.
The memory of his kiss was tucked away in a corner of her mind, a treasure that gave off a shine in the night, when light fell on it. When she thought about it, her lips burned, she felt that strange tug in her heart. Sometimes she wondered if he had put a spell on her; that she even let him kiss her or if it had been some strange place fallen out of time, where things were just different than they were supposed to be. A place where Draco Malfoy apologized to her as if he had meant it. But also, a place where he was trapped on the path his father and his upbringing had set him on.
During potions she had felt her shoulder blades itching with the sensation that he was watching her, but she resisted the temptation to turn. Slughorn was hovering over Harry's potion and grimacing, muttering something about young love confusing an otherwise brilliant mind. Hermione felt a bit smug about that. Ever since he had lost the Prince's book, Harry's gift for potions had vanished. It was only when Professor Slughorn was checking her own progress, that she dared to look up from her cauldron. Her eyes met with Malfoy's. It was as if his gaze was waiting for her, definitely not unfriendly, but of smouldering intensity.
She was so flustered, that she forgot one of her books after the lesson. When she ran back, she saw that Malfoy had lingered after the other students. His hand was on one of the pillars and he seemed to try to catch his breath. She hesitated and came to a halt, a few strides in front of him. His head snapped up.
Their eyes locked again, and Hermione could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks, the memory of their kiss vivid in her mind. Despite her doubts about that night, she reached out with her hand and touched his arm and they stood like that for a long moment. His breathing sounded laboured in her ears.
She had only a moment's warning of a very light step, that came up behind her. He broke away from the pillar, straightened up and broke eye contact with her. His mien had changed completely, his upper lips twisted as if in disgust.
"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he said, just as Goyle rounded the corner.
The insult did not reach her heart. It stuck somewhere in the air between them, as if a shield prevented it from hurting her. And yet, Hermione did not even hesitate. She copied his gesture of disgust. "What did I just witness? A talking ferret?" She tsked. "Strange, that a ferret would imitate prejudiced purebloods of all people."
"Need help with hexing Granger, Draco?" Goyle asked.
Malfoy waved his hand dismissively. "She's not worth the trouble."
Hermione let Goyle pass her, a scowl plastered on her face, her wand on the ready. Malfoy took Goyle's arm and pulled him along, as if in great haste. When they had reached the next stairs, he turned his head, just a tiny fraction. Hermione tapped her lips with her index finger and winked. A sudden flush darkened his pale face. She had not dreamed after all. He had not meant the insult, but he did not trust Goyle. Hermione's heart thumped hard in her chest. The realisation that he wanted to protect her felt like an ice block near her heart and like a fire that warmed her.
She fetched her book and decided to skip her next lesson. She needed to talk with someone, but Harry or Ron were out of the question.
She was lucky. The password to the headmaster's office was not that difficult to guess and Professor Dumbledore was in his office. He did not look well, but a smile brightened his face, when she entered.
"Miss Granger, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Professor Dumbledore." She would have to be careful with her wording. "My question is very hypothetical."
The headmaster raised his eyebrows.
"I was wondering. We all assume that Voldemort's followers join his cause either willingly or because of the imperius curse."
She took a deep breath. "And wizards and witches who were under the imperius got a pardon the last time Voldemort was at large, didn't they?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, someone under the imperius was not considered to be responsible for his or her actions."
"What about people who were coerced or blackmailed. Let's say Voldemort had a leverage over them?"
"That would depend on the circumstances. You know, Miss Granger, in a way, even under pressure, we might have a choice."
"It might be only poor choices though. Let's say, someone is a death eater." She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed. "But he gets misgivings? Or, even though he should be loyal, Voldemort still puts pressure on him?"
Dumbledore did not answer, but nodded shortly.
"Something like that must have happened with Professor Snape. I mean, he did not start as a double agent, did he?"
"Indeed, he did not."
She licked her lips. "What made him defect?"
"This is between Professor Snape and me, Miss Granger."
"I don't want any details, just a general idea," Hermione snapped. She took a deep breath.
"Professor Snape ran out of options, to be quite honest. He wanted someone to live and was intelligent enough to realise, that Voldemort's promise in that regard meant nothing."
"So, he decided to trust your promise. Why?"
"I have been careful to uphold my reputation of being a man of my word. And I just promised him to try."
"You did not succeed," Hermione stated.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"So, you could not in all honesty promise our hypothetical death eater that you would save the person he wants to live."
He shook his head again, his eyes glittering.
Hermione rubbed her eyes, and wiped a single tear from her cheek. Her mood had plummeted.
"So, the difference between Voldemort and you is, that he might spare someone, if he is not in the mood to kill, while you do your best."
"As sad as it is, this is quite an accurate observation, Miss Granger."
Hermione hung her head.
"This very hypothetical death eater you talk about, Miss Granger. Did he confide in you?"
Hermione took a sharp breath. She tried to shake her head, but it became a mixture between a nod and headshake.
"I thought we had established, that I am aware of some of Voldemort's plans. You do not need to fret that you betray his confidence."
"I don't know what he is supposed to do, do you?" she whispered.
"I have a general idea." His eyes bore into hers.
"He expects to fail, I think", she licked her lips. "He expects to fail and die."
"But he'll still try, so that Voldemort will not let someone else pay."
Hermione nodded.
Her voice sounded shaken in her own ears. "He said that Voldemort takes good things like love, pride and confidence, and turns them to bitterness and dust."
Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "Your hypothetical death eater seems to have gained some insight."
Hermione could not help herself. She cried. "If only he understood that earlier. Before he…" She felt that strange tug at her heart again. Was it pity? Or something akin to pity? Her lips began burning again in memory of their kiss.
"There, there Miss Granger. Understanding might not be too late. He hasn't actually done anything yet."
"I shouldn't even worry about him. I should be worried about my NEWTs. I should be worried about who I would like to kiss!", she cried. She felt herself blushing furiously.
"He said, that there is another in place if he fails. Is that Professor Snape?"
Dumbledore nodded.
Hermione felt herself sag with relief. "So, I don't need to try to get him to tell me the plan."
"Rest assured, Miss Granger. I am well prepared to thwart Voldemort's plans, in a way that he will not foresee." He patted her hand, if a bit awkwardly. "You know, your death eater is quite right. Tom Riddle destroys love, loyalty, trust, confidence, because he wants to destroy what he does not understand to prove to himself, that it is meaningless. That everything is meaningless but his own raw power."
Hermione took a tissue and blew her nose. A sudden thought came to her and chilled her.
"Professor Dumbledore?", she asked.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"What do you do with love and friendship and loyalty?"
Suddenly he looked grey and old, his mouth slacked downwards.
"I sincerely hope, I do not destroy them, Miss Granger. I do, however, take advantage of them and use them, count on them, even. I am sure you know that, or you would not have asked this question."
Hermione thought about what Malfoy had said, about what wanting to win a war meant.
"I see. And you can count on me. I will help Harry."
"I don't know, if it is any consolation, Miss Granger, but believe me, that I really would want for you to not have other problems but your NEWTs and a possible crush."
Hermione stood up. "Do you know, what is a consolation, Professor? If Harry wins, if we manage to destroy the Horcruxes, other muggleborns like me will have the chance to split their silly and frivolous heads on the question of who they should date. Thank you for your time, I feel better now."
If she had known, that she would never see him again, she might have stayed until he stopped laughing.
Chapter 7: Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff
Summary:
Draco's and Hermione's children talk about their houses.
Notes:
I want to describe the established Dramione relationship from the PoV of others including their children's before we see into their heads as they are now, because I think it is interesting to see how they are seen by others before we see their own PoV. I also want to hint at things that will be important and to give some information on why the wizarding world has a problem with them - which will be plot relevant.
I hope you like the children. They have been in my head for so long, that they feel like old friends to me.
Feel free to comment. I like to interact with my readers.
Chapter Text
Rina managed to corner Colin before uncle Neville arrived. She squared her arms and gave him her best head girl stare.
"Nobody intended for my wand to break… sure, Colin."
"It's the truth."
Rina scoffed. "Lying with the truth were you, eh?"
A tell-tale flush crept into Colin's face.
"You know what dad always tells us. If you lie with the truth you have to be exceptionally cautious about your wording."
Colin pressed his lips together.
"Nobody intended clearly points towards the fact that more than one person was involved."
Colin stubbornly remained silent.
Rina sighed. "You might as well admit it. These no good Potter - Weasley disaster twins were involved." James Potter and Richard Weasley were not really twins, but inseparable, and everybody called them the twins.
"We had a fight, a real fight with fists and all. They did not mean for my wand to break."
"Two against one. They were lucky, I did not see anything, or I would have deduced house points so fast…."
"Rina," Colin pleaded. "That would have made it worse! If you want to help me at all, just never deduce house points from Gryffindor for my sake."
"I know that," Rina sighed. "Still, if they were responsible for breaking your wand, they should contribute to a new wand."
Colin rolled his eyes. "Listen to you, Rina. Ronald Weasley's son should pay for the wand of Colin Granger-Malfoy. And to top it off probably Hermione Granger should be the one to sue him for the money."
They both had to laugh.
"What was the fight about, anyway?" Rina asked.
Colin shrugged. "The usual… My father is a death eater, who has been feeding love potion to mum for years, this whole scutum business is just a scam to hide his nefarious actions, I am a swot and afraid of flying, and nobody knows why I am in Gryffindor."
"The part about dad is mostly just a repetition of the insane gossip the Daily Prophet likes to print instead of informing the public on the really important stuff."
"You sound like mum, when she goes on a rant."
"You know, in my house they pester me about mum. You know, rights of magical creatures extremist… head on set upon disrupting any order… destroyer of pureblood traditions… And of course, she only married dad because she just happened to know that would start a house elf rebellion."
Colin smiled at her. "That's just our luck. Notorious parents instead of famous ones."
Their little sister Lizzie had entered the corridor and had heard them.
"Mum and Dad are famous in Hufflepuff," she said.
"How?"
"Star-crossed lovers and all that. His love for mum converted dad, so that he became a double agent and risked his life against Voldemort and mum defended him in court because she is the embodiment of fairness. And everybody agrees that they both should have been in Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff is all about tolerance, acceptance and reconciliation."
Lizzie scrunched her nose. "And every time there is a new couple, they rate them on a scale of zero to Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."
"You've made that up!", Rina exclaimed.
Lizzie bent her head to the side. "Anyway, the way Hufflepuffs talk about mum and dad is gross. When it is too much, I always tell them that mum and dad still call each other by their last names."
"I wonder what the Ravenclaws say?" Colin asked
Lizzie shrugged. "Meg will tell us, once she goes to Hogwarts."
"If she is sorted into Ravenclaw."
Rina shook her head remembering when the hat had sat on her head. The thing had actually chuckled in her ear and asked about her siblings. Then he had said "I'll start with Slytherin then."
Lizzie chuckled. "Maybe he put me into Hufflepuff because he was all confused. Dad would like to believe that."
They laughed, when they remembered the commotion at Lizzie's sorting. One of the students, a Fawley of pureblood descent, had almost been forgotten, and the students had joked that the hat had been flustered for the first time in his long life.
"The hat told me at my sorting, that it would be Hufflepuff for you, Lizzie." Colin said.
"Stupid old hat and his stupid decisions. The wizarding society and their stupid traditions," Rina sighed. "I think you got it worst, Colin, but there is nothing to be done, is there?"
Colin shook his head. "Look, I might be the son of a death eater and a swot, but I won't be a sneak, if I can avoid it."
He put a hand on Rina's arm. "I know you want to help, but you can't. And it is far better than last year. Uncle Neville as new head of house makes such a difference!"
He grinned. "He gave us a prep speech about earning the house cup. And he showed us a chart of earned house points. As it happened, the chart showed that Gryffindor earned quite a lot of house points due to correct answers in class. Our prefect David Finnigan is so keen on getting the cup this year, that he has encouraged me to learn more."
"Uncle Neville is the best."
Colin nodded. "Will you come with us?"
Rina shook her head. "No, I'll go with dad."
"You know that mum has looked into this. They are obliged to do the exchange by law, but that's about it. As long as they exchange within the day."
"Still, dad might feel better, if he has support. The very least I can do is to talk to him, so he doesn't die of boredom while they make him wait. And last time dad made it out of Gringotts by noon. It's twenty years ago after all."