Chapter 42

The Summer Between 5th and 6th Year

...

June 20th 1996

Hermione had no idea how they were explaining her injuries to her parents or if they had even bothered to reach out. Noone had mentioned her parents to her at all. Maybe someone had memory charmed them or simply sent a note that she was staying at the Weasleys. She was always out of sight out of mind to her parents, so she wasn't surprised at the lack of letters from them.

And she didn't care enough to ask whether they had been informed. She wasn't sure if that made her a terrible person or if her grief over Sirius was just making her numb to everything else. He had been far more like a father to her than Richard Granger was.

Convalescing at Grimmauld Place was decided to be the best thing for her - and Remus went unstated. He'd have to take care of her and that would keep him from doing anything "rash" as Hermione had heard Dumbledore tell McGonagall when they thought Hermione was sleeping. The pain potions didn't last long whenever Madam Pomfrey gave them to her and she often was awake when they thought she was sleeping. She had managed to entirely sleep through being moved from Hogwarts to Grimmauld though.

Remus took to sleeping in the chair next to her bed, her bed in the room where Sirius had painted her name on the door. She missed him so much. She just kept expecting him to walk through the door and say that it had all been a mistake. She still felt his presence in the house. It was as though he was just out of sight, just around the corner. She even thought that she smelled his cologne one night.

"Do you think Sirius will come back as a ghost?" Hermione asked one night after midnight when it was still two hours until she could have another pain potion. Everything hurt so much that she couldn't sleep, and all she really wanted was her boys wrapped around her telling her everything was ok. If she ever got her hands on Antonin Dolohov she was going to make him wish that he had never been born.

"I hope not," Remus replied tonelessly. "I'd hate for him to be trapped in this house for the rest of eternity. He deserves to be free of this place. I wish that we'd run after he escaped, but he was so sure that we needed to embrace the Order and protect Harry. We should have protected Harry by emigrating to America." Hermione couldn't see his face in the darkened room, but she suspected that he was crying.

"It wasn't your fault Remus," Hermione whispered. "I let Harry be drawn into a trap."

"It wasn't your fault Hermione," Remus sighed. "It was Bellatrix who killed Sirius. If you have to blame someone, blame her. Or Snape for failing so utterly to teach Harry occlumency. I always thought that Dumbledore was a fool to have Snape try to teach Harry anything."

"I did think it was odd," Hermione agreed, rolling slightly so that she was oriented towards Remus' shadowy figure. "Snape has always hated Harry."

"Snape hated James and Harry looks just like him," Remus sighed. "If Harry had actually learned to occlude this year then none of this would have happened. I wonder if Dumbledore intended it to fail. This seems like the kind of manipulation that he specialises in."

"Remus?" Hermione suddenly felt that the darker feelings that she had been having about their headmaster might be echoed in the man sitting beside her bed. "Do you think Dumbledore allowed this to happen? That he knew the dark lord and Harry had a connection?"

"He always wants everything to be done for the Greater Good, he used to say that all the time during the first war too, 'It's for the Greater Good Remus, it's necessary.'" Remus snorted. "After I finish taking care of you, he wants me to go back out into the werewolf packs. I wasn't successful getting any of them to join the Order back in 1980. Why on earth would he think that I would be successful now?"

"You don't want to go?" Hermione asked, curious.

"No." Remus stated his answer as though it was a truth that he feared to share with others.

"Then don't," Hermione said, simply. "He can only force you if he uses an Imperius curse, but definitely don't eat any of Molly's cooking, you might be more susceptible to manipulation then."

"Don't worry. I have Kreacher disposing of it after she drops it off. It seems wasteful, but even some poor homeless muggle doesn't deserve to be potioned."

They sat in silence for a long time.

"It's the full moon next week. I have a room in the basement where I can get shackled and warded in. Nymphadora is going to come do it and stay with you for a couple of days."

"Tonks?" Hermione had only met the pink-haired Auror a handful of times; she knew that she had been injured at the Department of Mysteries as well, although not as badly as Hermione had been. Her mother had been burned off the tree downstairs as well.

"Yes. Tonks. Nymphadora is her given name," Remus replied gruffly. "She's just one more person checking up on me. They think I'm going to go feral and attack Malfoy Manor in some kind of suicide mission. Assuming that's where Bellatrix is."

"It is. Draco told me that she was there. She's completely mad, you know."

"She wasn't exactly stable during the first war. I'm sure all those years in Azkaban didn't help. Sirius," Remus choked on his partner's name. "Wasn't quite the same after being there that long. I think the only reason he wasn't completely mad as a hatter is that he laid around as Padfoot. Dogs aren't susceptible to the attention of dementors."

Hermione filed that information away. "All animals," Hermione asked, "Or just dogs?"

"All animals, I think. Handy fact for animagi," Remus had reverted to his professor voice.

Hermione nodded, considering the implications. Soon enough it was time for her potions, then she fell back into a drugged sleep.

...

June 25, 1996

Malfoy Manor

"Again Draco, Again!" Voldemort commanded.

Draco's occlumency shields held strong, even as he grew fatigued from casting Unforgivable after Unforgivable.

"Crucio!" Draco put all his hate at his father and Theo's into his curse. He wished that it was either of them writhing on the floor at his feet. Unfortunately the nameless man wasn't who Draco wanted to hurt, but as he didn't wish to be cursed today, Draco was intent on following his orders like a good little minion.

"Again!" Voldemort shrieked with glee. Bellatrix's mad laughter echoed in the drawing room.

"Crucio!" He'd cast twenty of them in the last three days; he was amazed that his magical core was still able to put out this much power.

Nagini slithered by Draco's feet as he cast the Unforgivable again at the Death Eater who had been foolish enough to fail Voldemort today. Draco knew better than to flinch, but gods how he hated that snake. It just looked as though it saw too much. It was too aware to be a non-magical beast and Draco shuddered to think what it was capable of.

He caught Theo's eyes for just a second between casting the pain-inducing curse. Those sapphire eyes encouraged him to do whatever was needed, the bond gently pulsing with Theo's love. There was nothing too far to Theo if it kept the three of them alive, or so he claimed.

They'd find out soon what they were going to be ordered to do. It was only a matter of time until they were sent on missions with the others. The possibilities of the murder and mayhem that they could be asked to participate in made Draco angry, and he threw that into the next round of cursing too.

...

June 30, 1996

Full Moon

Grimmauld Place

Tonks had actually lit candles in Hermione's room. She'd gone searching and found all kinds of candlesticks and candelabras from around the town house. Hermione actually really liked the way that the warm light flickered over her bookshelves in the late night. Remus had let Tonks know that Hermione generally woke just before or after midnight as the pain potions began to falter, but she couldn't have another dose until three a.m. Tonks was there in the chair next to the bed ready with mint tea and a smile when Hermione blinked into pained awareness.

The pink haired Auror was sipping an iced coffee that must have come from some Muggle takeaway place as she watched over Hermione.

"What do wizards say about your food habits?" Hermione asked without thinking.

"Pretty sure some of the older members of the Order think that an iced caramel latte is some sort of an energy potion." Tonks smirked in a way that reminded Hermione that she was in fact Draco's first cousin. That smug little turn of the lips had to be a Black family trait.

Tonk's words caused Hermione to laugh a little at that, which then resulted in her cringing from the abdominal pain.

To cover up the agony that she found herself in, Hermione bit out, "I mean they are not entirely wrong are they?"

Tonks chuckled. "No I suppose not. I'm surprised that you don't have any guests, Hermione? No boyfriend to come and hold your hand? Or a girlfriend? Aren't you and Ronald…?"

"Oh gods, no," Hermione grimaced. "I want a bit more from my life than being Molly Weasley 2.0…. Oh sorry that was rude."

"Well, I certainly don't want to be Molly Weasley 2.0 either," Eyes going distant, Tonks seemed lost in thought for a minute. "I don't think that I could be even if someone wanted me to be."

"Tonks you are one of only a handful of female Aurors ever. We live in a massively patriarchal culture and you are breaking through the limits that the Ministry and wizards have set for witches," Hermione exclaimed. "Who would ever want you to give that up to be a house witch?"

"Hopefully no one," Tonks quipped, her pensive mood suddenly leaving her and her grin returning. "Because it doesn't seem particularly likely to happen."

The silence dragged on, so Hermione offered. "I have someone I like, but they could never come see me at Grimmauld Place beyond even the obvious that the place is under the Fidelius charm. I barely saw them at school before I was brought here."

"Oh, a secret romance Hermione?" Tonks sipped her coffee in a way that made the ice clink together playfully. "How thrilling. I'm a huge fan. I've been known to have those myself. My mother's a little too terrifying to share my love life with. Once a Pureblood always a Pureblood to a point. Pretty sure she already has the marriage contracts written out. And I'm not sure that's me. I don't think willingly discussing my less than impressive dowry with a wizard interested in me sounds like a great time."

Hermione always found it strange later, how this conversation had gone. Something about the full moon and the candlelit, a werewolf in chains downstairs and the liminal time that was made for sharing secrets. Hermione felt a few tears leak out as she realised how many secrets she had shared with Sirius in this very room, secrets that Sirius had kept until his death.

"Nor I, and beyond that I think I want a wizard who will stay home with the kids and let me do whatever sort of work or research I like." Hermione had been trying to imagine a future for her triad after the war recently. She knew that most people thought that she wanted to be Minister of Magic, but she didn't think that it would make her happy. She wanted a chance to pursue her mastery in Charms and perhaps also Runes. She definitely didn't want to be an Auror. Once this war was over she wanted a safe, easy life with the two wizards that she was bound to. She wouldn't know if Dolohov had destroyed her ability to have children for several months to see if her menstruation restarted and there was no scar tissue in the fallopian tubes. Snape had brought an additional potion to heal that exact thing earlier in the week. She had wondered if Remus and Snape suspected that they were now the only two people living that knew about Hermione's relationship with the two Pureblood scions from high ranking Death Eater families.

She did not ask them.

Tonks stared at Hermione sceptically. "It's going to be a challenge to find someone that forward thinking, Hermione. Maybe you should consider dating Muggles?" Tonks couldn't quite suppress the face of distaste that she made at the mention of dating Muggles. Hermione found this entirely typical, because like most Half-bloods, Tonks had no interaction with any Muggle family nor did she engage often with the Muggle world.

"No, I think it's an achievable dream." Hermione tried not to think of the fact that Theo and Draco had probably been marked by now. She'd woken up screaming on more than one occasion clutching her left arm. Luckily only Remus had been present that night, because his knowing eyes still haunted her.

"Wizards are often trapped in the 17th century, Hermione, especially Purebloods like the Weasleys and even dear Sirius and my mum in some ways. They haven't even made it into the twentieth century and the twenty-first is just around the corner."

Hermione laughed, careful this time not to move her body too much when she did so. "You should see the muggle studies texts at Hogwarts. The most current event in the ones I saw this last year had muggles landing on the moon. So they haven't updated them since the late 1960s."

"That's possibly for the best," Tonks chuckled. "Can you imagine explaining computers or the internet to Pureblooded scions of the Sacred 28? I'd pity the professor who would have to do that."

Hermione, who had done exactly that with Theo and Draco, smiled, "They'd have to have more than two brain cells to rub together and I'm not sure that all of them do. Not that Half-bloods or Muggleborns are any better, I think most wixen skate through life doing the bare minimum."

"Well, no one can accuse you of that, Hermione," Tonks smiled. "Have I distracted you well enough? We've got another 45 minutes until you can take your pain potions. Do you want to ask me questions about wizards and witches or sex or women's issues or anything? I'm an open book. And I can't imagine asking McGonagall anything personal nor Molly."

...

August 1st, 1996

Theo's 17th birthday at Malfoy Manor

The Revel the previous night had been an exercise in occlumency. Draco hadn't had the proper level of imagination when it came to the depravity of their fellow Death Eaters. Dolohov especially was a sick bastard. It was he and Theo's first Death Eater Revel and they hadn't been expected to participate. They would be expected to engage in the entertainment at the Revel in two weeks and both wizards were dreading it.

Theo was lying on stomach, spread across Draco's bed while reading a book on blood wards and blood binding, mumbling to himself as he read.

"I know it isn't much, but," Draco revealed a small chocolate cake. "Happy birthday Theo."

"My only wish is to not be called downstairs today." Theo blew the candle out. He leaned his head onto Draco's shoulder. "She's okay, right?"

Draco nodded. "Kreacher came and told mother that 'Potter's filthy mudblood is at Aunt Walburga's house with the werewolf.' So Professor Lupin is clearly looking after her." They both flinched at Draco's use of mudblood and could feel each other's worry and longing for their favourite girl.

"Fuck, poor Lupin," Theo breathed, imagining what the man had to be going through. He hadn't been Theo's favourite professor by any stretch of the imagination (that bloody boggart lesson!), but he had hardly been their worst. And he knew from Hermione that Lupin and Draco's cousin, Sirius, had been together since their Hogwarts days except for Black's time in Azkaban. Lupin had gotten his lover back only to lose him again, Theo couldn't imagine trying to continue living if something happened to Draco or Hermione. "They have been together since school. I don't know how he's coping with your cousin's death."

"Not well according to Kreacher apparently, the werewolf is sad and doesn't eat. He makes Kreacher throw away the food that Molly Weasley drops off."

"Isn't that likely because it's got loyalty potions in it?" Theo shuddered. In Theo's mind, the Weasley matriarch was a prime example of how the light side of the war did abhorrent things in the name of the greater good. He often wondered if she potioned her own children into compliance. Considering the wildness of the twins, perhaps some of them had built up a tolerance. Theo was grateful that it wasn't the Death Eater's style to drug for loyalty. Disloyalty meant death, and even poison was a bit too disconnected when it came from the Inner Circle.

"Extremely likely." Draco agreed and then smirked before saying, "Now eat your cake which I promise doesn't have loyalty potions in and then I can give you your gift."

"Is it kisses?" Theo asked hopefully, a blush darkening his cheeks as he stared into the eyes of the other part of his soul.

With an exaggerated wink, Draco smiled. "Better eat your cake and then you can find out."

...

August 3rd, 1996

Diagon Alley

Draco didn't know when the last time that he had been this pissed off was. Voldemort had assigned him a suicide mission. There was nothing else that his mission to restore the honour and status to the Noble House of Malfoy could possibly be.

Killing Dumbledore was going to get Draco killed and then his mother would be killed and his house would end. Draco didn't think Lucius was physically capable of fathering a new heir if something happened to him, he hadn't managed it in the sixteen years since Draco's birth. And besides, his lousy excuse for a father was in Azkaban, which meant that Draco and Narcissa plotted together. Theo was brought into their plans out of necessity, but he wasn't with the two Malfoys as they turned on to Knockturn Alley.

They were attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible, but Draco knew that in a world where his father was currently serving time in Azkaban as a marked follower of the Dark Lord that there was no way for them to be truly invisible. Draco just needed them to stay off the cover of the Daily Prophet.

Was that too much to ask?

He did not want to have anything to do with this nightmare, but he was well and truly trapped now. He should have taken Hermione and Theo and run. Potter and the Dark Lord could have sorted their own shite out eventually. And Draco and his triad could be on a beach in Thailand or Australia.

Borgin and Burke's was one of Draco's least favourite places. The last time he had some here with his father, Lucius had struck Draco's hand so hard with the cane that he'd drawn blood with the snake's fangs. It wasn't a particularly happy memory, not that Draco had many happy memories where his father was involved.

After flashing Borgin his Dark Mark, Draco began relaying the instructions that the Dark Lord expected to be followed to the letter. Greyback chose that moment to walk into the shop and the ancient shopkeeper looked as though he had just lost control of his bowels. As he left, Draco felt content that Borgin would do as he was told.

Draco wished that he was more confident that he would be able to continue to do as he was told. He'd never been commanded to do the impossible before.

...

Hermione, Harry and Ron watched from one of the nearby buildings and peered through the filthy skylight. Ron and Harry both missed Draco flashing his Dark Mark, but they did both spot the entrance of Fenrir Greyback. Before they could start in, she feigned exhaustion. She's only been off bed rest for a week after all.

It wasn't entirely a lie after all.

Harry and Ron quickly got their textbooks and started to complain about Hermione's desire to peruse the stacks of books in Flourish and Blotts.

She rolled her eyes at them and attempted to inject the right amount of affection into her expression. "Why don't you two pop over to the Quidditch supply shop or something while I pick out a few more books to read over the rest of summer?"

It was frankly embarrassing how quickly the two of them disappeared, leaving her to investigate the shelves in peace. She was in a far corner of the shop reading over some titles about Advanced charm design when another person's fingers brushed against hers, as they pulled out a book that was so close that her fingertips were nearly touching.

"Why good afternoon Granger," Theo murmured to her, his voice husky. "Such a surprise to see you in a bookstore, but then again you are a ridiculous swot. I'm sure books strewn about is part of your natural habitat. Dare I say even your kink?"

"Theo," Hermione hissed, feeling his amusement through the bond, but she wondered how he had hidden himself from her until he was right on top of her. "Were you occluding?"

He just smiled, leaned over and kissed her fingertips that were still clenched on the shelf in front of her.

"Glad to see you up and about," Theo whispered as his lips grazed her cheek and ear as he turned around. "Be sure to get lots of rest and we need a better way to contact each other. I can't go this long not knowing if you are alive or dead again."

"Theodore," Draco's voice came from behind them, causing Hermione to let out a gasp of surprise and Theo to turn around grinning.

"Ah Draco, I've got all of your school books with mine at the counter. I was just hassling Granger here about her obsession with books." Theo managed to make obsession sound like a naughty word. "They can hardly keep her warm at night."

Draco checked left and right and then leaned forward, capturing her lips. "I'm glad we don't have an audience, mon coeur. I was dreading having to call you foul names."

"You can call me a filthy little mudblood anytime you need to, Draco," Hermione whispered. "I don't hold it against you. It's sure to be the least of your sins when all is said and done."

Some movement toward the end of the aisle caught Draco's attention and he stepped away from her.

"Unfortunately, I'm certain you are correct," Draco whispered back, before raising his voice. "Theo, leave the mudblood alone. We have more important things to do with our time."

Hermione snorted loudly in annoyance, playing her part and Draco turned toward the intruder, blocking Theo for just long enough that the Nott heir could place a quick kiss on Hermione's shoulder before the two Purebloods disappeared. Hermione stood there for a long time and then started to walk away, but then realised that she hadn't chosen any books. That would certainly make Ron and Harry suspicious.

She chose a few books at random that had interesting titles. She'd already been here too long and she didn't want to risk Harry and Ron coming to find her and running into Theo and Draco. She needed to keep her Slytherins safe and Harry was fragile following Sirius' death. And a fragile Harry was a dangerous one.

September 1st, 1996

Despite having the Heads and all the prefects and occasionally a frantic professor on the train, there was always this undercurrent of wildness amongst the young people. Hermione was exhausted listening to Harry's repeated accusations that Draco was a Death Eater. He'd watched Draco's marking ceremony through the connection to Voldemort, a horror that nearly made Hermione physically ill to imagine it. When Harry described the way that Draco looked as though he would have collapsed if Bellatrix hadn't been holding him up, Hermione had to blink back tears. She used the way that Voldemort had used the connection to give Harry false information that led to Sirius' death to try to interject some doubt, but it was clear that Harry was convinced.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Sirius' death was like a fresh wound in her soul. She felt that Harry had created an illusion of his godfather to love and that she'd loved the real wizard. Harry had no idea how much time she'd spent at Grimmauld Place over the years, no clue how close she'd been with Sirius. He had no idea what his foolishness had stolen from her. She thought of how she'd once imagined that Sirius and Remus could give her away at her wedding.

For the first time Hermione realised that Harry was never in these fantasies that she had of the future.

She scolded some Ravenclaws for being too handsy in their compartment and continued lost in thought.

Two Gryffindor second years had to be separated from two Slytherins, Hermione gesturing for the Gryffindors to head to the front of the train, while she escorted the Slytherins toward the back which was the Slytherin section of the train.

"Why do we have to be in the back of the train," one of the boys hissed to the other. "Bad enough we have to be in the dungeon when we get back to school."

Hermione pursed her lips, frustrated with the status quo. These children deserved better than this and they weren't wrong to be angry. Not for the first time Hermione considered that the "light" had created the exact conditions that allowed Voldemort to recruit and that she was part of that system of oppression. It made her feel ill.

She'd gotten lost in thought and was turning to leave the Slytherin section of the train and an arm reached out of a crack in a compartment door. Kisses swallowed her shriek as she was yanked into the darkened compartment.

Theo.

She was spun about and another set of lips captured hers.

Draco.

Theo's lips trailed her neck and she stroked his hair with her hand, fingers tangling in the curls. Her other arm was around Draco's neck as he kissed her lips with abandon.

"Summers are too long," she sighed as they stepped back. "I missed you both too much."

"We missed you too love," Draco breathed, his hand finding her cheek in the dark.

"You better get back, princess," Theo whispered, regret in his voice. "We don't want Scarhead and Weaselbee to miss you."

"Harry saw your marking ceremony through his connection to Volde-"

"Don't say his name!" Draco hissed.

"But he didn't see Theo," Hermione continued. "I'm assuming that both of you were Marked."

She felt their unease filtering through the bond, their fear that she would leave them, that they were tainted beyond redemption. She couldn't see their faces, but was sure that they would be full of dejection if she could.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, well except out of this compartment before we get caught. I'll try to meet up with you two later tonight at the regular place." She reached out and grabbed Draco's hand in the darkness, kissing his palm. Theo spun her towards the door, placing a kiss on her ear before she was shoved back into the train corridor.

She quickly shook it off, but was surprised to see a ruffled Neville emerge from a compartment in front of her. He didn't look back and see her, but was buttoning his shirt as he walked back toward the front of the train. Hermione was intrigued especially when she noticed lipstick on his collar as he lost his footing for a second.

Who?

Hermione carefully walked down the train, and peeked into the compartment that he had emerged from. Pansy Parkinson sat there with her compact floating in the air as she fixed her blood red lipstick.

Hermione thought she had forgotten how to breathe.

Neville….and Pansy Parkinson?

How had she missed that?