! This chapter is written from Hermione's perspective !
- The Hogwarts Library, 8th of May 1993 –
"So, you're telling me that you never even sent him the Valentine's message you wrote him?" Daphne whispered curiously as she put down the latest edition of Witch Weekly. She'd been bored out of her mind while sitting next to her best friend in the library, not feeling up for any more studying. The blonde Slytherin had even joked she'd soon need to buy herself a pair of glasses if she kept looking at her books any longer.
Hermione had laughed and told her not to go to the same store as Harry did, considering he broke his glasses at least once a week. Daphne had mused that it was probably more of a Harry issue, than a glasses issue.
"After that embarrassing display with Harry and the dwarf? Of course I didn't send him anything. Have you ever witnessed the famous Malfoy sneer? Can you imagine what it would've been like to have it aimed at me if Blaise and Theo started teasing him about it?" Hermione quipped as she got up and looked for another book to finish her last paper for Charms class.
She wanted to write a few inches of parchment on the Hour-Reversal charm which was used on time-turners. Ever since she was little, science fiction stories covering time-travel had enthralled her. Once she turned out to be a witch and found out that time-travel was actually possible … Honestly, it had been mind-blowing. She could only imagine what it would be like, to go back years in the past. Alas, no such thing was possible without an insane amount of raw magical power. Or without the risk of getting caught while messing up the timeline. Still, the theory of it all had piqued an interest in her ever since they walked through that Time Room at the Ministry after Yule.
The Slytherin chuckled at herself and her studious ways as she noticed the library was nearly empty apart from an older Ravenclaw and two Hufflepuffs. Perhaps her mother was right, and she would do well as a scholar? Perhaps she could even be an Unspeakable one day? Yet, she knew deep down that was not where her ambitions truly lay. There was one thing she'd always wanted to achieve, and in order to do that, she would need to be knowledgeable.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Mione. But sometimes, you're such a bore." Daphne yawned when she came back to their desk. The blonde was flicking through the gossip pictures of famous witches and wizards in her copy of Witch Weekly again. "In the worst case, you could have told him that it was just a joke. Or that you wanted to give him a gift for Valentine's day as a friend. No harm, no foul, right?"
Hermione sighed as she let herself fall down into the chair next to Daphne. Why had she told her best friend that she'd been planning on sending a secret Valentine's day letter to Draco? She hadn't even known why she'd written it in the first place. That stupid quote from a muggle book had just come over her as she sat in her dorm that morning. She'd lazily scribbled it down, thinking it described Draco so well, and then stared at it. What if he interpreted it as a declaration of love? That would be more than a little embarrassing. Besides, giving a letter to him only, and not to any of her other male friends… That definitely would make things awkward.
"Why is this so frustrating?" She whispered as she put her hands in her already frizzy hair, letting her head fall on the desk in desperation, looking up at Daphne as she turned her head sideways.
Daphne put down her magazine and rested her face on the desk as well. She looked at her best friend and smiled sadly. "Are you sure you're not having a crush on him' Mione?"
Hermione blinked. Did she? True, Draco was cute, even if his face was getting more pointy and defined the older he got. But what she liked best about him was that he truly listened . No one had ever paid attention to her thoughts and feelings as he'd done. He was quite eloquent and more caring than she would ever suspect someone growing up with Lucius Malfoy would be. She knew that he treated all of his female friends the same, even if he showed more affection towards her. But he'd never hinted at anything more than friendship. She was probably just like an older sister to him, just as she was to Harry.
"I know that Granger thinking face, and it's not doing you any good." Daphne scolded. "He's your best friend. I understand. You don't want to risk losing that. But honestly, would it be so bad to tell him that you like him? We'll turn fourteen after the Summer. It's alright to fancy the boys we hang out with, isn't it? Merlin, my mum always said that was what school was for: have fun, become a powerful witch, snog some of the boys you like."
Hermione nearly snorted with laughter. Her own mother had told her all about her own first crush when she was thirteen years old. Some dark-haired boy she'd met on holiday in France who she claimed could've been Sirius Black's older cousin seeing as he too had curly black hair and stormy grey eyes. Now that Hermione thought about it, that was exactly what Draco's looked like. Perhaps he had more Black in him than anyone truly thought, even with his signature pale blond Malfoy hair and all.
"You think that is what has gotten into me?" She whispered as she took her best friend's hand in her own, looking for some sort of support. "Puberty has finally hit me and lashed onto the first boy that acted nice to me?"
Daphne tried to hide her laughter as Madam Pince was shelving some books near them. "Perhaps it's just a crush that will eventually pass, Mione. Perhaps it's more than that. I swear, sometimes I think you guys are attached at the hip. Harry's seen it too. Whenever there is some sort of crisis going on, you two are always so aware of one another. You're protective of the boys, just like me. But it's different when it's you and Draco. You always seem to find each other when you need one another. Like you're gravitating towards one another. Remember that experiment I wanted to conduct right before Yule?"
The brunette nodded, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow to hide her embarrassment at Daphne's description of her and Draco's friendship. What she said was true. Whenever either one of them was having a bad day it was almost as if magic pulled them together, trying to ease the other's worries. She'd never realised how strange, yet precious, such a thing was.
"When you told me how he's so perceptive of you, I realised you were right. It has always been like that. So, I wanted to see if his magic was intuitively attuned to you and would recognize you without a second thought. And it did . Do you realise how rare that is Mione? For two people to be so connected to one another?" Daphne whispered as a bunch of Gryffindors shuffled into the library.
"You said it's easy for you to feel your sister's magic, right?" Hermione replied, knowing where Daphne was going with this. Ever since Draco had told her about their connection through Armand and Celeste, she had assumed the bond between them was nothing more but that of family members. Daphne, not knowing Hermione was Celeste Malfoy's descendant, would never connect those dots.
"Draco is not your brother," Daphne frowned. "If any of those two baboons you call your best friends are, it would be Harry without a doubt."
Hermione laughed at that. Harry was indeed the younger brother she'd never had while growing up, but Draco… "I'm a Malfoy through an adopted line." She confessed to her best friend. "So technically, Draco is my… Something. He said our magic recognises one another."
"You're a Malfoy ?" Daphne gasped in surprise, Hermione grabbing her hand tightly to quiet her down as she looked around anxiously, hoping no one had overheard. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Did it show up on your heritage test?"
Hermione nodded. "It did. Goes back nearly a thousand years. Apparently Draco's ancestor adopted a muggle-born witch, who in turn, is my French magical ancestor."
Daphne crinkled her nose at that information. "Are you two daft? Sure, on paper, you two come from the same line. But magic that attuned, that strong, would never survive nearly a thousand years of generations, Mione. Perhaps he's just denying what he 's feeling and clinging onto family magic to support his claims."
"Yeah right," Hermione chuckled. "You think I wouldn't have noticed if he fancied me by now? Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm acting like a silly teenage girl when I stand around him blushing and he doesn't even blink. If anything, I'd say he fancied Harry! He's attempted to jokingly kiss him at least twice in my presence!"
Daphne giggled, earning a grumble from the Hufflepuffs sitting a few desks over. She mouthed a quiet 'sorry' to them and looked back at Hermione. "If Malfoy does swing that way, I don't think Harry does. He's still so upset over Ginny. That boy has the biggest crush on her. I wish she would just grow a pair like the Gryffindor she is and tell her brother to fuck off. Who's he to decide who she's friends with anyway?" She murmured.
"I've tried talking to her," Hermione confessed as Daphne finally let go of her hand and started packing her books and magazine away. "But she keeps making excuses and running away. One time Ron even showed up outside of the Great Hall and physically pulled her away. I haven't seen him do it the past few months though, but still. Ginny hasn't dared to approach any of us on her own accord."
The girls discussed Ginny, and especially Ron's weird behaviour for a while. Even if Daphne hadn't been informed of the silver trio and Neville's assumption that the Gryffindor was actually possessed, she too had noticed the redhead's behaviour. After a quick tempus charm, Daphne started to leave, asking Hermione if she wanted to tag along to watch the end of the boys quidditch practice together with her and Tracey. Even an encouragement to finally get some sun could not remove Hermione from the library as she wanted to finish her paper.
"Will you be alright?" Daphne whispered as she lingered near the desk, unsure.
"Don't worry, Daph," Hermione assured her. "There have been no attacks for months now, I'll be completely fine. Besides, if I do get stunned out in the hallways, I heard that the batch of Mandrake Draught is nearly done." She winked.
Daphne shook her head at that and smiled. Another wave, and she was off, finally leaving Hermione in peace to finish her paper on the Hour-Reversal charm.
As the brunette kept writing and researching for at least another half hour, she had been too focused to notice that Ginny had snuck into the library and was desperately trying to reach her unnoticed to talk to her.
Right before the youngest Weasley could make herself known, once Hermione had finally gotten up and walked over to some shelves in the corner of the room, Ron showed up.
"Don't get close to the Slytherins, Ginny." Ron warned her, making Hermione's ears finally perk up.
She acted as if she was still focused on finding some books, however, and even pretended to exit the shelves, only to duck down and silently crawl back to listen in on the conversation behind her. Luckily, Draco had gifted her a book on charms, one of them including a spell on how to silence one's own movement when trying to be sneaky. The ambitious Slytherin in her had wanted to perfect that spell the moment she read it. Her disappointment when Harry claimed it was perfect for assisting him in pranking people was quickly forgotten as she mastered the spell after only a few tries, earning her friends' praise.
"Let go of me, Ron. I'm sick and tired of this. They're not evil like you claim them to be!" Ginny now argued in the shelves behind her. Hermione's hand twitched on her wand, wanting to come in between the brother and sister. She knew Ginny should fight her own battles, but Ron just wouldn't leave her alone.
The brunette Slytherin only got as far as to stand up straight. What Ron said next made her freeze.
"Trust me, Gin. Someone is out to get Harry, no matter the cost. I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire." He whispered, barely loud enough for Hermione to hear.
What was that Ron had said? Someone was planning to hurt Harry, no matter what? That couldn't mean what she thought it did, right? Draco had explained to her and Harry what the cursed book his father had dropped into Ginny's cauldron could do. It would make the owner of the book want to achieve anything they wanted, no matter the cost . That also meant that in all probability, Ron had not been the one who had let out Sirona, but then who-
"And stop going to those ridiculous calligraphy classes Lockhart gives every Sunday afternoon." Ron warned his sister. "I don't like that git one bit."
Ginny had now raised her voice, probably earning herself a stern glare from Madam Pince. "You can't decide who I decided to spend my time with, Ronald !" she spat angrily. "And you definitely can't stop me from some extracurriculars I decided to take with my friends. We all know he can't teach D.A.D.A. for shit, but the Professor's got a real knack for-"
"He's dangerous ." Ron hissed back at his sister, not having noticed that Hermione was standing so close to them and could hear the whole conversation. "Just trust me on this one, Gin. Lockhart is not what he seems. His vanity makes him vile. Even worse than the Slytherins."
"Sod off, Ron." Ginny said as Hermione assumed she'd shrugged him off, swinging her book bag over her shoulder and knocking into some books before she ran out of the library.
Right as Hermione was about to walk out of the bookshelves she'd been hiding behind and scold the Gryffindor for his bigoted behaviour, she heard the smoothest voice in existence tisk behind Ron. Her whole body went rigid.
"Mr. Weasley. What an utmost surprise to see a young man such as yourself visit the library. Luckily, I too, was up for some light reading and couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I thought we had agreed that my efforts in defaming Mr. Potter were our little secret?" He whispered, barely loud enough for Hermione to hear. "Yet, here you stand, warning your sister of a potential danger. Warning her of me . That simply will not do, I'm afraid."
As Hermione kept herself completely still while Ron and Lockhart kept arguing and eventually walked off silently, she saw a peculiar book in the Professor's hands. Holy cricket! Lockhart had the cursed book! That could only mean that he… Dear Merlin!
Not trying to panic, Hermione instead contemplated what to do. She would have to run and tell the boys. Their quidditch practice should be done soon anyway. If she left the library now, she might even be able to catch them alone to explain what had happened. Then, they would be able to talk to Professor Snape before anything bad happened to anyone else.
Why was it always the bloody Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers?
Nodding to herself in agreement, she decided on what was her best course of action. If Draco was by her side, their Head of House would be more likely to believe them, even if he had been trying to catch Ron with a cursed book for the past few months. No wonder he hadn't succeeded and had started to think their concern was nothing more than foolish Slytherin vs. Gryffindor rivalry. Ron was not the current owner of the book. Lockhart was.
As soon as the coast was clear, Hermione ran back to her desk, put all of her stuff into her bag and started walking as fast as her small legs could carry her to the library's exit. An older Ravenclaw was holding the door open for her, smiling. The prefect badge shining on her robes. Oh no .
"Penelope," Hermione tried to smile as brightly as she could. "How have you been?"
"Trying to cramp in as much as I can before my N.E.W.T.s come up," Penelope Clearwater shrugged as Hermione started digging in her book bag, desperately looking for a piece of parchment and the only bit of muggle stationary that she carried with her. "How about you? I haven't seen you as much in the library lately."
As soon as Hermione found her pencil, she ripped off the bottom of her newly written paper on time-turner charms. She inwardly cringed when she realised she'd actually ripped off a part of her written text, but ignored the feeling and wrote a short sentence for the boys on it, hoping they would find it when she… When she… Well. Better not think of that. As she'd said earlier to Daphne, the Mandrake Potions would be ready soon. Somehow, that thought didn't really comfort her now, though.
"I've been hanging out a lot with the boys." She shrugged, trying to seem as calm and collected as possible, as she put her pencil back into her book bag and pulled out the small mirror Luna had given her. Thank Merlin for her dear friend who had seen this coming. What would any of them ever do without her?
"Ah yes, boys need a lot of time and attention." Penelope joked as they rounded another corner, Hermione entirely grateful that they hadn't encountered Sirona yet. "Percy has asked me on a date to Hogsmeade next week, to celebrate our first anniversary. Isn't he the cutest boyfriend?"
Just like Luna had predicted, a familiar hiss made the Ravenclaw Prefect and Hermione stop in their tracks before Hermione could disagree that Percy Weasley was most definitely not 'the cutest boyfriend'.
"You'll think that I'm mad, Penelope. But would you mind looking in this mirror when we round the next corner, just to see what that sound was." Hermione asked?
Luckily, the Ravenclaw prefect didn't need much convincing.
The note for Draco and Harry clenched in one hand, and holding the mirror in the other, Hermione looked around the corner, meeting Sirona's gaze.
Unlike what she'd expected, she started freezing over from the tip of her fingers and the tips of her toes, the stunning magic seemingly turning inward. As the mirror fell to the ground, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if this is what Medusa's victims felt when they got turned to stone. That was definitely something that she should ask Deandra, when she finally woke up.
Deandra.
When the Basilisk's stunning magic reached Hermione's magical core, she swore she could feel the spirit's magic as well… Or was it? No, that couldn't be. That would be impossible.
As Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater fell crashing to the floor like statues, Draco's magic reached out to his best friend, trying to clench itself tightly around her to protect her from harm. To no avail.
Hermione would never know the raw wailing sound that came from Draco's throat as he nearly fell off his broom on the quidditch pitch, Daphne barely casting a spell to keep him steady from the quidditch stands. She would never know how he rushed down to the ground, to get to Hermione as fast as he could, only to fall to his knees in the mud, clenching his arms around his own body as his magic kept reaching out to something that was no more. How his and Deandra's magic had intertwined and nearly broken through the castle walls when he'd finally reached the Hospital Wing, hanging onto the sliver of magic that was keeping her alive within.