The prospect of visiting Diagon Alley, even with all the reports of disappearances was somehow less scary to Hermione than having to play another two-on-two game of Quidditch with Ron, Ginny, and Harry. A trip to buy books and potion supplies meant she was one step closer to returning to Hogwarts. Her mind ached for the routine, the classes, and most of all the library. Sometimes she woke up with the smell of the library in her nose. But as she was redacting the previous day'sProphetat the kitchen table before they headed off, some of the excitement faded. With meticulous flicks of her wand, she removed the details of the missing witches and wizards. She replaced the article detailing Mr. Ollivander's disappearance with an advertisement for curl-control potion. There was no reason to alarm her parents, but maybe it was worth asking Mr. Weasley if something could be done by The Order to keep them safe. Hermione filed that question away for later.
The Diagon Alley that Hermione knew was gone. The shopping district had been Hermione's very first introduction to the Wizarding World. That first visit she had run with reckless abandon into every shop that lined the streets, her parents in tow. She remembered her father awkwardly addressing the Goblin attendant at Gringotts as they exchanged muggle money for gold, sickles and knuts. Her parents had quickly turned away and made for the door once the goblin handed them a pouch of coins. But Hermione had stood looking up at the goblin and demanded he explain the conversion of money in the Wizarding World. How many knuts were there to a sickle, and how many sickles to a gold and so forth, would the money they have exchanged cover the cost of school supplies or would they need to come back? The goblin had given her a violent look, but she did not remember being scared. She had stood her ground until the attendant begrudgingly explained the conversions and suggested her and her family keep to a tight budget. And they had - she had visited every shop and carefully bought all her supplies - before visiting every shop again for a second time with her left-over money in order to select a few more items. She had mostly bought books. Her parents had then taken her for ice-cream at Florean Fortescue's. But that was gone now, boarded up, and Ollivander's was destroyed. Hermione felt heavy when she first took it all in, observing the skeletal remains of Diagon Alley.
After meeting up with Hagrid, the trio had made their way to Madam Malkin's while Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to pick up books from Flourish and Bolts. Hermione would have preferred to visit the book shop, but she really was in desperate need of new dress robes. Compared to Diagon Alley, the inside of Madam Malkin's remained practically unchanged. It made Hermione feel uneasy, people were disappearing, maybe being killed, and she was here to browse textiles. Hermione excused herself from Harry and Ron who headed off into the uniforms section. She wove her way through the racks of dress robes, some in blue, some in green, some in purple, some in pink. There were silks and taffetas, chiffons and brocades. There were even a few tartans. Hermione eyed a dark blue tartan robe embroided with fine golden silk. She retrieved it from the rack. Next, she selected a pink organza two piece. It reminded her a little of her Yule Ball dress though these robes had significantly more ruffles. She intended to make her way to the changing rooms when her eyes landed on a set of red silk robes. The robe was beautiful, it had bell sleeves, a long skirt, and a plunging back. It was entirely too much for her, but it was also simple and elegant. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was around before snatching the coat hanger up and making for the changing rooms.
Hermione pulled the curtain and hung up the robes in front of her. She hid the red robes behind the tartan ones. It was warm in the little dressing room, so she twisted up her curls and secured them with her wand. She would start with the pink robes. The organza enveloped her like a sticky seaweed. Every time she flattened out one section of the fabric another seemed to pop up to entangle one of her limbs. She wrestled the dress on. When she looked in the mirror, she thought she looked like some sort of wild jellyfish. And she might have laughed if she hadn't been so sweaty. The fabric was somehow both sticky and scratchy. Huffing with dismay she managed to extricate herself from the fabric by moving slowly and deliberately and returned the garment to its hanger. Outside her cubicle of despair, she could hear Madame Malkin fussing over Harry and Ron somewhere else in the shop. Her fingers inspected the next set of robes – the tartan ones - to discover about twenty fastenings along the bodice that would all need to be untied and re-tied. Standing in her underwear she began the process. She fastened the three separate layers of the skirt and then turned her attention to the top half of the dress robes. The long sleeves weighed down the garment as she attempted to hold it against her. From the waistline she began lacing with intense focus. As she pulled the second tie taut, she felt a breeze brush her exposed shoulders as the curtain to her dressing room was ripped open. Hermione froze. He wasn't looking at her, and she was looking at him through the mirror. His hand gripped the curtain, but his neck was twisted as he addressed someone obscured from Hermione's view. But she didn't need to hear his voice to know who this was.
"…not a child, if you hadn't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shoppingalone",She saw the pale blonde hair reflected in the mirror. She heard the drawl. Draco Malfoy was standing behind her and, in a moment, he would turn around to find her half undressed in the changing stall of Madam Malkin's. Hermione felt the breath leave her lungs in an almost silent gasp. This small sound caused Draco's head to whip around. Their eyes met in the mirror. His grey eyes widened briefly before immediately narrowing, but it was not quite a scowl. She watched him search her in the reflection. From her eyes to her chin, to her neck, his eyes softened slightly as his gaze raked across her collarbone and down her chest. She felt herself flushing as he observed her. His eyes left her and began quickly searching the cubicle as he addressed his mother.
"But given that you're here, you might as well pick something out", he said with feigned resignation. Mrs Malfoy twittered something unintelligible and Hermione heard the clicking of her heels fade away. Malfoy's eyes lingered on the red silk robes in the same way they had lingered on Hermione's chest. She felt her anger rising as the surprise wore off. What the hell did Malfoy think he was doing? Why was the curtain still open? She turned to reprimand him, snatching her wand up from her hair in the stall but he caught her hand mid-air. His face was inches from hers. Their chests were nearly touching. His eyes were steely, grey, andfamiliarand he dropped them from her gaze, down her chin and back to where she had been lacing the robe up her torso. The other arm, which carried some grey dress robes, reached out to thumb the tartan fabric. He scowled.
"This is truly horrible, have you decided the McGonagall fan club needs uniforms?" He asked in a low petulant voice. Hermione looked down at the robes and frowned. They did truly look like something McGonagall would wear. She had thought they might make her look distinguished.
"What? No!" She looked up at him expecting to see a sneer, but there was none, "I thought-", she began to defend her choice but trailed off. Her eyes were drawn to where his hand was still holding her wrist, his long pale fingers wrapped around it holding it above her head. She shook her head and glowered at him. But he wasn't glowering back, he wasn't even sneering. Though his mouth smirked, his eyes were flat, impassive. His eyes also drifted to where he was holding her wrist and he let go. He stood up straighter and nodded towards the red silk robes hanging on the wall.
"Those are much more befitting a brave, bold, Gryffindor", he said. He took a step back, locking eyes with her as he pulled the curtain shut between them. Hermione stood in stunned silence. In the five years she'd known Draco Malfoy this was the closest to a civil interaction that they'd ever had, and she was half undressed. She fumbled with the ties as she tried to shrug off the tartan robes. She could only just hear Malfoy and his mother talking over the pounding in her ears. She stood in stunned silence for a moment, considering quickly redressing and making a run for it out of the shop. But maybe if she took a little longer, they would leave? She might as well try on the last robe. Carefully, without looking in the mirror, she pulled the red silk robe off the hanger. Hermione considered whether she would want robes that Malfoy approved of, but she could not deny how luxurious they felt sliding over her skin. She decided that if she did like them then it didn't matter what Malfoy thought. Pulling the centre tie into a knot she tucked the strands into the robe and turned to face the mirror.
"Oh", she said. She was buying these dress robes.
Hermione peeked out from the curtain and spotted no sign of Malfoy or his mother. Perhaps they had left? She exited the cubicle and made a beeline for the counter where Harry and Ron were loitering close to the counter.
"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!" Malfoy exclaimed from the other side of the shop. Madam Malkin was flittering around him like a sparrow. He was wearing some handsome charcoal robes. His eyes narrowed when he saw her.
"If you're wondering what the smell is Mother, a Mudblood's in the shop", said Malfoy. Hermione gaped at Malfoy's viciousness. After that, it all devolved into a bit of chaos. Harry and Ron pulled out their wands. She tried to tell them it wasn't worth it. Malfoy remarked about sending flowers to whoever had blackened her eye and her hand had shot up to where the Weasley's telescope toy had punched her. He hadn't said anything about her eye when he'd caught her in the dressing room. Narcissa threatened Harry and Ron. Poor Madam Malkin tried to calm everyone down. Hermione noticed true anger pour out of Draco when Harry suggested they might find Narcissa a double cell with Lucius. Before she could retrieve her coin pouch to put money on the counter and drag Harry and Ron away the Malfoys had strode out of the shop, Malfoy shrugging his shirt back on as they left. Hermione felt terrible for the scene they had caused in Madam Malkin's, so she sent Ron and Harry outside while she allowed the witch to fit her for extra adjustments.
The rest of the trip to Diagon Alley was a bit of a blur. Hermione tried to make sense of what had just happened in Madam Malkin's. Malfoy had found her extremely vulnerable but waited until she was in front of everyone to call her a Mud-blood. Maybe he wanted the audience? That explanation made sense to Hermione. But why hadn't he commented on her black eye when he found her in the stall? Hermione shook her head to try and clear it, Malfoy was the last of her problems, he was just a bully. There were wizards who wanted her dead because of her blood.
What Fred and George had created was truly magnificent. Hermione showed Harry the patented daydream charms and her compliments earned her another free sample from Fred as well as some bruise-remover. Even if the daydream had been entirely too much, she couldn't deny the incredible nature of the magic and she tried to explain this to Harry without giving away any incriminating details. Her eyes roved the shelves of skiving snack boxes trying to commit the shape and colour of the various treats to memory as she figured identifying the lollies and dealing with the effects of their ingestion would make up a significant portion of her prefect duties in the coming year. She had just narrowed in on Puking Pastilles when Harry had diverted her attention to Malfoy who was currently crossing Diagon Alley with speed.
Despite her protests the trio were suddenly following Malfoy's blonde head down Knockturn Alley, right up to Borgin and Burkes. Hermione watched the shopkeeper's face trying understand the conversation he and Malfoy were having inside.
"If only we could hear what they were saying!" Hermione said. Ron had the quick thinking to produce Extendable Ears from the boxes he was holding and the three of them listened in. They heard Malfoy threatening the shopkeeper and asking the man how to fix something.
"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?" They heard Malfoy say. Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy streaked out of the shop. As he passed where the three of them stood hidden under the invisibility cloak Hermione watched as the sneer he must have been given Borgin dropped. His eyes becoming glassy and his mouth pressing into a thin line. She watched him walk away, his black robes swaying behind him. Turning back to look at Borgin and Burkes, suddenly her mind was filled with the events of only an hour ago. Hermione felt she'd had all too much of Malfoy for one day, but she desperately needed to understand what was going on.
"You two stay here", she whispered, ducking out from under the cloak and then entering Borgin and Burkes. She was positive she could get the answers they needed. However, not two minutes later she was back under the cloak, with Ron telling her how badly she'd performed. He was right, but it still hurt.
Hermione spent the final week of the holidays quite determined to forget what had happened in Diagon Alley. She could only replay the events of the change room so many times before she felt too embarrassed to keep trying to make sense of it. What Malfoy was doing in Borgin and Burkes confused her as well. But who knew what other parts of wizard society she knew nothing about. Maybe purebloods like the Malfoys had strange traditions that required the wares of Borgin and Burkes. She was content to let it go. Harry, on the other hand, seemed unwilling to give up the subject. Sure, Harry was right that it had been Madam Malkin attending to Malfoy's left arm that had resulted in him storming out, and yes, it did seem like Malfoy was interested in two objects, one residing in Borgin and Burkes and one elsewhere. But to claim that Malfoy had a dark mark? Malfoy was only sixteen, it seemed unlikely that Lord Voldemort would induct him as a Death Eater. She had agreed with Ron. She also thought that Harry suggesting that Malfoy was out for revenge might be Harry projecting a bit. Harry hadn't spoken to them much about Sirius since arriving at the Burrow, not really. He wasn't going to be able to get to Bellatrix Lestrange anytime soon, but Malfoy, he had access to Malfoy. How could she make Harry see that he was wrong? She and Ron had not been able to last year when he'd had visions of Sirius being tortured in the Department of Mysteries and look what that had cost them. Hermione shuddered remembering her latest nightmare about Dolohov. She had nightmares about the battle nearly every night. If she was having nightmares most nights, Harry's must be constant. Hermione sighed as she stacked the last of her new books into her trunk and began hauling it downstairs as Mrs. Weasley had asked. She needed to be a better friend to Harry. Yes, he was wrong about Malfoy, but it came from a place of grief.
The Burrow had fallen into a hush on the last evening before school returned for the year. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had shared a reserved meal with Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. Mr. Weasley had been working late again. After Mrs. Weasley was certain everyone had already brought down their trunks, she had pushed them out the back door, insisting they go enjoy the summer air, while she and Fleur tidied the kitchen. Harry, ever keen to be up in the air, had begun tossing a quaffle with Ron. Hermione and Ginny settled next to a small fire and were toasting marshmallows. There was a slight cool breeze heralding the coming of autumn. The clear night sky stretched overhead. Hermione's eyes roved the stars, tracing the lines of Lynx, Cepheus,Camelopardalis, and finally, the dragon of the sky, Draco. For the millionth time this week she tried to make sense of what had transpired in Diagon Alley. Looking up at the stars she let herself relive Madam Malkin's. She could almost feel the ghost of Malfoy's hand on her wrist. His steely grey eyes roving her face. Grey eyes. Hermione gasped as the realisation hit her. Her bathtub daydream, the companion her brain had conjured up, could it have been Malfoy?
"What's wrong?" Asked Ginny.
Hermione's eyes darted to Ginny. She tried to rearrange her face into a less shocked expression and find a convincing lie.
"Oh, erm, I just realised I got something wrong on my Astronomy O.W.L", she tried to convey with the adequate amount of distress. Ginny laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Somehow, I don't think that's going to ruin your chances of becoming Minister for Magic", she retorted. Hermione let out a shaky laugh and gave Ginny a playful shove.
"I don't want to be Minister for Magic", she said.
"Oh yeah, and I don't fancy Dean Thomas", said Ginny sardonically.
"Yeah exactly", said Hermione, "wait, what?"
Ginny gave her a mischievous grin. "He's written to me a few times over the summer", she explained. Hermione thought about what she knew of Dean Thomas. He was tall, confident, and friendly. She could see why Ginny would like him. He was friends with Ron though and Hermione was not sure how Ron would react to a boy in his class dating his sister.
"Are you two official or…?"
"Oh Merlin, no", exclaimed Ginny.
Ginny explained that the two had started talking at the end of the school year. Dean had written to her quite a bit while she was recovering from the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Ginny had wanted to meet up with Dean in Muggle London, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not so keen, even after Ginny had recovered. Hermione thought that made sense though Ginny seemed to think it was a bore.
"I think I'll ask him out when I see him!" said Ginny.
"You're going to ask him out?" asked Hermione.
"Sure, why not?" Ginny gave a shrug. Hermione twirled the stick she held in her hand, the marshmallow on end began to bubble. She frowned. Would she ask out Ron? She thought she might like Ron in that way. But that seemed silly. Silly, and unimportant when they were facing the Dark Lord. Hermione shuddered a little thinking about it. Hopefully, with Umbridge gone, Hogwarts would at least be safe, and if they didn't go running off into the Ministry again maybe they would all make it through the school year unscathed. Well, that also depended on how 6thyear NEWTs went. She also thought she might prefer it if Ron asked her out. It had seemed he might after the yule ball debacle, but maybe Hermione was kidding herself.
"Well?" demanded Ginny. Hermione looked at Ginny's face, warm, freckled and glowing in the firelight.
"What?" asked Hermione.
"Tell me you're not still thinking about the Astronomy O. !" Ginny laughed.
Hermione returned the chuckle, "no, no, sorry just got distracted", she offered.
"Well, let me repeat myself for our inattentive student", said Ginny with an exaggerated sigh.
"Do you fancy anyone?" Ginny emphasised theyouby pointing at Hermione. Hermione looked back at her marshmallow.
"Not really", she said meekly.
"Are you sure?" Ginny drawled, extending the last vowel sound of the word sure.
"Yes, I'm entirely too busy with study this year to be worried about boys!" Protested Hermione.
"Sure you are", retorted Ginny. Hermione gave her a scowl before they both erupted into laughter. Afterwards, they fell back into easy conversation and soon Harry and Ron joined them. Ron seemed to slowly sit closer to Hermione over the evening. Their fingers were only inches apart. Later when the group called it a night Hermione lingered, just for a moment, but Ron followed Harry straight inside.
Hermione couldn't sleep. Tucked in her covers she tossed through her various worries. Voldemort, NEWTs, Harry, Ron, her parents, the school, NEWTs, Voldemort. She recited spells, recipes, runes, but felt none the sleepier. Rising from her bed she trudged outside holding her duvet and curled up in one of the wooden armchairs under the kitchen window. It wasn't comfy, but it was cool. Finally, under the stars she felt her eyelids get heavy, and fell asleep.
