authorsnote: very happy to get back into the flow of this story.
after all we have plans to make!
do enjoy, do review, and do follow, Im back bby!
songrecs: the alchemy - taylor swift (yes ttpd is still my writing album, and will be for the next four years)
The first step over the threshold of Grimmauld Place has her heart thudding so loudly she is sure she'll trigger any intruder alarms or traps just from the sound.
The four of them stand on the dusty carpet, none know who should step up first, Hermione glances at Ron, but he's looking at Harry, who looks forward.
To her surprise its Malfoy that with a sigh, and what she is sure is, 'And I'm the only non-Gryffindor' steps forward, though he does scurry back as a cloud of dust rises in the air, a roar, an accusation, four wands raised, and then.
The cloud bursts into nothing, and she knows all four of them are alarmed enough not to mock Malfoy for scurrying back, especially he, with less associations to this house stepped forward first. It would have usually been Harry, but she could see for him stepping into Sirius' house meant more than it did to any of them.
He'd held back for a reason, and so Hermione takes his hand this time to urge him forward, he looks grim, but then nods, and is first to step into the swirling dust motes.
"Wait" She called him back, voice nervous, before sweeping her wand, "Homenum revelio"
"What was that supposed to do?" Ron asked, not unkindly.
"It did what it was meant to do!" Hermione said crossly, exactly as Malfoy said –
"Gods Weasley, did we even go to the same school"
She turned her cross expression on him, but he just rolled his eyes, and then Harry stepped forward again, and surged into the house, no longer wanting to hold back, though part of her wished he would.
The house is worse than she remembers.
Which is to be expected, it has been months now, over a year since anyone has lived here, since anyone has step foot in here, save Moody to set some traps and intruder alarms. Living here will be difficult, but where else can they go?
They have nowhere to go.
Four nomads, hiding from the most powerful dark wizard alive, they can hardly complain about the state of the drapes.
Everyone was quiet as they made their way to the kitchen, this was the least filthy, for Mrs Weasley had always made an effort to keep it clean, but none of them would want to make food in here. Her stomach grumbled which she ignored, none of them had eaten yet at the wedding, and she hadn't packed food in the beaded bag.
But this was life now, life on the run, better get used to it.
For a moment Hermione felt younger than her years.
She ached for her mum, her dad, ached to not feel so alone, even as Harry stepped forward into the dining room, Ron followed, she felt alone, she wanted her parents, she wanted comfort, she wanted to be planning to go to Hogwarts in September, not here, with a beaded bag to her name and her, and her friends in danger, alone.
But then, it didn't matter what she wanted, it didn't matter that she was frightened and scared, what mattered was standing by Harry, which she would do no matter what, that was what mattered, more than anything.
She had expected snark from Malfoy as they wondered through to the dining room, and yet he remained silent. That raised an eyebrow from her, and then as he turned into the dining room, and walked over to the door separating to the formal sitting room, she realized something.
"You've been here before" She said, non-accusatory, but to Malfoy, and he turned back to her, and yet his custom sneer was gone.
"Once or twice" That was all he offered as they made their way through to the living room, covered in dust and more than one unsavoury substance.
Hermione nodded, but didn't say anything more as Malfoy flicked a wand to the fire, and flames jumped in the grate, he'd always been competent, chomping at her heels, his non-verbal magic was good, better than most.
She hated the relief she felt, to have someone so competent with magic at their side, even if she rather him not be there at all.
Still, the warmth curled over the room, and she stepped towards the fire.
And silence fell.
None of them knew what to say, what to think after what had happened at the Burrow.
Or what had happened in the café.
"Do you think I could still have the trace on me?" Harry asked, speaking something he'd clearly been wanting to say, this house with all its enchantments might not stop the trace being active and leading people to them.
"The trace can't stay on anyone past the age of 17" She repeated, ignoring the fear in face of facts, honest, true facts, that was where she'd always played her faith, and she would not let that fail her now.
She had nothing else.
"But what if?" Harry repeated.
"It can't Potter" Malfoy drawled again and she flinched, it was becoming too common, her and Malfoy being the logical ones, being on the same side of the argument, she felt an urge to speak false, just so not to be on Malfoys side a second argument running.
She hated it, seeing him like this, it was too different.
At school he was her bully, but he was … rarely in her life. He popped in, said something awful and left, here, his constant presence, agreeing with her in a roundabout way, his perfect awful aristocratic voice relying on the same logic as hers. She hated it, which itself was illogical, which she hated more.
"We don't know that" Harry insisted, eyes wide, always so paranoid now, not that she could blame him.
"Yeah what if-" Ron began, but Malfoys scoff cut him off.
"Actually, we do" He said with a roll of his eyes, he had his back to the fire, wasn't he cold? Did he care? Why did she? "And so would you if you'd bothered to crack a book once in a while"
"Shut up Malfoy" Ron threw back and Hermione winced, his argument far less eloquent, and she hated herself for thinking it.
A lot of hatred to go around, she blamed Malfoy.
Malfoy just laughed, a cold horrible think without any mirth before he approached an armchair, one worldless sweep of his wand transfigured it into something plush and comfortable and clean, and then he sunk into it, he didn't offer to do so for anyone else.
Hermione did instead, one by one, and she hoped Malfoy wouldn't mock her for it, her design a touch nicer than his on principle.
He didn't, and quiet fell.
Quiet somehow felt worse, as the four teenage war refugees sunk into their transfigured armchairs, and all four struggled not to weep.
One of them surprisingly more than all.
Night came, and the awkwardness had not abated, but tiredness took precedence.
At least until Harry let out a cry of pain, Hermione and Ron flinched, she didn't want to know why whilst Malfoy turned around, he didn't.
When had she started noticing him so much?
"What did you see?" Ron asked, advancing on Harry quickly, "The Burrow? Did you see him?"
"No, he just felt angry, really angry - " Harry said, clutching his scar, Hermione hovered unsure what to do.
"But that could have been my house, did you see?" Ron insisted.
"Your scar?" Hermione asked, unable to stop herself, worry flooding her veins, "What's going on? I thought the connection had closed?"
"It had for a while –" Harry managed and Hermione felt worry far outweigh her annoyance Harry hadn't told them the connection was back open, "It just opens when he loses control"
"But you've got to close your mind!" Hermione said aware her voice had turned shrill but being unable to control it, "Harry! Dumbledore told you –"
"Badgering him is certainly helping Granger" Malfoy drawled, and she whipped around to glare at him, glad to take her anger out on not her in pain, confused, hurt looking best friend.
"You don't know what you're talking about Malfoy" She said with a glare, and then back to Harry, "Harry-"
"I know what Dumbledore told me" Harry replied, cutting her off through gritted teeth, annoyed she could tell, well the feeling was mutual.
Though all annoyance was gone, as a flash of silver came through the window, she involuntarily shrieked, Harry and Malfoy had their wands out before anyone else; Seeker reflexes, through she and Ron quickly followed, as the silver materialized into a weasel that spoke with the voice of Ron's father;
'Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched'
The patronus dissolved into nothingness, Ron let out a whimper and dropped back into an armchair, and Hermione let out a shaky breath.
"Oh thank god" She half whispered to herself before reaching to Ron to hug him, and he clutched her back, a weak half laugh leaving his lips.
"Harry, I-" Ron began, over Hermiones shoulder as she released him.
"Its fine" Harry threw back, and yet he looked still in pain, Hermione stood and squeezed his hand, resisted the urge to pull him into a hug, though with a pained smile he did squeeze her hand back, "I get it, you know they are like my family too, I do feel the same way"
A feeling of weak relief descended over the room, though as Hermione glanced at Malfoy, he hadn't moved, his expression gave away nothing, his wand remained in hand, but he now used it just to stoke the flames of the fire, she was thankful for the warmth.
"I don't want to be alone" She said with a grimace, for the thought of retiring to one of the moth bitten rooms in this ancient house made her want to wince, "Could we use the sleeping bags I bought and sleep here tonight?"
Nods from Ron and Harry (who excused himself to the bathroom, she watched him go with nerves), had her reaching in the beaded bag for four sleeping bags, she'd added a fourth of everything to account for Malfoy, and tried not to feel resentful at the extra space it took, extension charm or no.
She reached for that resentment now, needing it in the face of his logic, his competence as he seemed to idly clean off a layer of grime from the windows, transfiguring the curtains into heavy drapes, they could look out now, if invisible, and he'd done so without breaking a sweat.
The flames continued to warm her, and she forced herself to clear her throat.
"I packed four sleeping bags so-" What else was there to say?
Three truly had become four.
"I won't sleep on the floor" Malfoy sneered, and yet she sensed some malice missing from it, or was she imagining it? "And I don't camp"
"You really want to sleep in one of the empty rooms?" Hermione asked, cutting Ron off before an argument could start, she was too tired to mediate, and she needed to check on Harry, "In this horrible cold, empty house? Be my guest" She offered, but Malfoy just laughed.
Again, without an ounce of humor and that chilled her, how it sounded learned, like he'd had to learn to laugh without it.
And perfected it.
"This house is nothing compared to the Manor" He said with a roll of his eyes before he stood, sweeping past the merry fire, though he didn't spare it a glance or pause to warm himself up, he has at the door in a second.
"Thank god it isn't" Ron threw in, ears reddening now, that relationship she would have to mediate, why her?
Though what came next surprised her.
"On that we agree Weasley" Malfoy said all sneer then, but Hermione felt it rang quite false.
Though she couldn't call him out on that, as Harry returned, pale and shaky, Malfoy turned away, up the stairs into one of the many empty rooms, where he seemed happier, alone.
aha here we go! transition chapter, but we have a ministry break-in to plan, how will it go with malfoy along for the ride?
also yes this is dramione, but yes it is veeeeeeeeeeeeeery slow burn, but hermione is already noticing him and is reluctantly admitting hes competent and intelligent, thats step 1
do fav, follow, review!
speak soon(er)
