A/N: Thanks for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading, too :D
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-three and be on the lookout for chapter forty-four soon!
After the unexpected Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade, tensions were high with people noticeably on edge in Hogwarts. Most of the students were scared, with some parents even considering pulling their children from school. Hermione wasn't sure how, but Dumbledore must have convinced them that Hogwarts really was the safest place to be at the moment.
Hermione was sure to note the students who didn't seem to be concerned. Of course, many were Slytherins. It made her worried to talk to her friends, not entirely sure where they stood. While all the girls agreed that it had been scary, none of them were ready to make a leap about what it meant for the future of the wizarding world.
And, she knew that they all thought that she was crazy for running into the fray, to even put herself in danger. It was a sentiment that Regulus clearly echoed and there had been some tension between him and Rabastan for not keeping a better eye on her.
The news was contained for a few days, but with the Dark Mark over the village, the information had trickled back to London. Hermione avoided reading the Daily Prophet as much as she could, finding the endless headlines to be overwhelming. But, it appeared that she couldn't avoid it forever.
At breakfast, the owls swooped in and Hermione was rewarded with a letter in her oatmeal. Picking it up, she was surprised to see that it was from Sirius. Included in the letter was a clipping of the Daily Prophet, detailing the attack, with notes that several students had been minorly injured.
Sighing, she stood up from the table and was determined to read it alone. She didn't want to chance anyone reading over her shoulder, especially since she had no idea what it was that Sirius was going to say. She got to Arithmancy early and slipped into her usual seat. Pulling out the letter, she poured over the words.
Hermione,
I am glad to hear that you are safe after the most recent attack. We have been monitoring these attacks, but I never thought he would come after Hogsmeade. Moody thinks that it was to provoke Dumbledore himself. Father told me that you were involved in the fighting yourself — and that you were even injured. What the hell were you thinking, putting yourself in harm's way? I understand the impulse to fight, really I do, believe me, but you are too precious to go and do something so foolhardy. Do not fight in losing battles. You will not gain anything by getting yourself killed in a hopeless situation. Of all people, you have a real potential to make an actual difference. You have knowledge that can change the outcome of this war. But, if you end up dead, where will that leave us? In the same place we were, before you came here.
So listen, do me a huge fucking favor. I can't believe that Dumbledore hasn't canceled it already, but don't go to the last Hogsmeade visit, okay? Seriously, just don't go. In fact, if you are twisting my arm and trying to make me a Black once again, and all that comes with it, I command you not to go to the last Hogsmeade weekend, even with Lestrange. You never know which side you will find him fighting on. I'll even get Grandfather to order it as your Head of House if you can't be reasoned with.
Stay safe, sister.
Your endlessly devoted and favorite brother,
Sirius
She was startled by Rabastan slipping into the seat next to her. "Everything okay?" he asked, tilting his head towards the letter still clutched in her hands. "You left breakfast in an awful hurry."
"Fine, it's just..." Hermione trailed off. "Sirius."
"Sirius?" he asked, his eyebrows raising when he figured out that the letter was from Sirius, not about him. "I didn't realize that you were still in touch."
"I never stopped," she explained, though she stopped short of telling him more, when the rest of the students began to file in.
She could see his jaw clench, carefully considering his next words. "Trouble?" he asked, unable to help himself, not knowing what was in the letter.
"Not exactly, just over protective," she answered. "We should talk more, just... after class."
They both had a free period before lunch and so she would talk to him then. She knew that she had to pin down his thoughts on Voldemort once and for all. An honest and open discussion, especially now that she knew that Rodolphus was back in the fold.
She didn't think that she took in a single word from her professor during the lesson. She was far too focused on Rabastan's stiff posture next to her, his fingers gripping his quill just a little bit too tightly. He was obviously worrying about her insistence that they talk and even if she wanted to reassure him, she knew that he would worry and worry away until she was able to explain everything.
When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Rabastan practically shot up out of his chair. "Shall we go to the Common Room?" he asked, looking at her significantly. "Or the library?"
"I have somewhere else in mind," Hermione said. "Somewhere more private."
Even though she'd remembered the Room of Requirement, she had yet to take him there. But, today, she would finally reveal the secret room to him, though with less amorous activities than she'd usually envisioned. Rabastan was a mess of nervous energy the whole walk to the seventh floor and he didn't even make any quip about her walking back and forth in front of the door like a maniac.
When the door finally changed and she opened the door, he was clearly amazed to be stepping into the library at Grimmauld Place. It was the one place that felt comforting to her, now — and it felt like the only place they could talk.
"Grimmauld?" he asked, looking around. "But how?"
Hermione used her wand to light a fire in the fireplace. "This is called the Room of Requirement. You think of what you want when you walk in front of the door and the castle provides it," she explained. "I just like the library here."
"I will endeavor to give you an even more magnificent library at our own home, then," he said, looking at her like she hung the moon. He stepped closer to her, until they were standing face to face with one another. He reached out for her hand, pulling it up to his face so that he could press a delicate kiss to the inside of her wrist. "Please don't keep me in suspense any longer, Hermione, or I might go spare."
She gave him a soft smile, before grabbing his hand in hers and guiding him to sit with her on the settee. "I didn't mean to worry you so much," she explained, though she could already feel the tension in her own belly as she agonized over their discussion. "Sirius was just writing to forbid me from going to the next Hogsmeade visit. Father must have told him that I was hurt."
The school did have to notify Orion Black that Hermione had been hurt in the fighting. Even though she promised that she was fine, the blood gave her away and she'd been shuffled off to Madam Pomfrey to be examined.
"I didn't realize that Sirius was speaking with your family again," he said, looking perplexed.
"It's not official, I am sure, but I did encourage Father to make amends with Sirius," she said. "If Bellatrix could get away with hurting our family to run off with Voldemort and not be disowned, surely Sirius's crimes of being a Gryffindor could be forgiven."
Rabastan made a small noise of surprise, but she could not tell either way if he was happy with the news. "I am surprised that Sirius would want to make amends," he said, softly, staring down at where their legs were pressed together.
"They miss each other, but everyone is too proud to say sorry first. Still, I am glad they are trying, even if it's just for me," she explained, hoping that she might heal the rift in her family, yet. "Sirius is very worried that I was fighting against the Death Eaters. He doesn't want anything to happen to me."
He frowned for a moment. "I agree that your safety is paramount, but surely he doesn't think that the Death Eaters will attack Hogsmeade again?" he asked, drawing his eyes together. "And surely, Rodolphus made it clear that you are not to be touched."
"I shouldn't have to be made off limits to Death Eaters, Rabastan!" she said, feeling a bit frustrated by his take. Of course he didn't see the Death Eaters as a threat — not when his own family was involved. Even if Edmond was furious with the Dark Lord, it was obvious that they were not going to be targeted, a family in the Sacred Twenty-Eight who still followed the pureblood ideals. "They shouldn't have been there at all."
"Of course, I agree with you," he said in a rush. "But, it's obvious that we are not their targets."
"None of us should have been targets, Rabastan," she said, growing frustrated with him. "There were school children there. Little third years! Innocent villagers who are just trying to live their lives."
He ran a hand through his dark auburn hair — something he did when he was anxious. "I don't know what you want me to say, Hermione," he said, looking forlorn.
"I want you to tell me that you don't follow Voldemort, okay?" she countered, knowing that it was a difficult topic, but at this point, she just had to rip off the plaster. "I don't even understand how Rodolphus could follow the man, after what he did."
Rabastan snorted, looking at her like she was a naive fool. "Please, Hermione, he was already marked," he countered. "Surely, you know that once you are a Death Eater, it is no easy task to walk away. I don't know how he bears the humiliation, but he can't suddenly change his mind. The least he can do is remain loyal to our family by keeping you safe, which he did."
She blinked owlishly at him. She hadn't known what to make of Rodolphus's protection of her, but she supposed that it made sense. Protecting her was in the family's best interest, if it kept the contract in place. "So then, you know even more how foolish it would be to rush into following Voldemort!" she said, wanting him to just confirm that he wasn't going to become a Death Eater the moment he left school.
"You know that I don't follow the Dark Lord," Rabastan argued, his blue-green eyes willing her to answer. "You made my father promise not to have me marked."
"I know that, but I didn't preclude you from making that choice for yourself," Hermione said with a huff. "Just because your father won't make you get marked doesn't mean that you couldn't choose to become a Death Eater on your own or share the same beliefs as the rest of them."
Rabastan sighed. "I'm not going to become a Death Eater. Even if I had wanted to, seeing how the Dark Lord treated Rodolphus...making a mockery of him by accepting Bellatrix into his bed... it's obvious that he doesn't respect his followers one bit. He cares for what he wants and what he wants alone."
She was impressed that he had seemed to figure that out on his own, because many wizards were still under the illusion that he was working for them, trying to change the world for them. Even Lucius Malfoy, when she'd last seen him in the Department of Mysteries, had been a most devoted acolyte. But, she was disturbed by some of what he said, too. He didn't deny that the thought had never crossed his mind, or that he might still have chosen to join them if it wasn't for the Bellatrix debacle.
"You didn't say anything about not sharing their beliefs," she said softly, wanting to look away, but forcing herself to maintain eye contact. "They hurt innocent people. They think that muggleborns and half-bloods have less right to magic than you or I."
"I don't want to hurt innocent people," Rabastan promised. The desperation in his voice was palpable, he was practically willing her to believe what he was saying. "And, of course I don't think that muggleborns and half-bloods have less right to magic. They have magic, don't they? It's just... you can't deny that they are different from us."
"Are they?" she asked. "Because, you see, I was a muggleborn, remember?"
"You're not, though," he said. "Not really."
"Maybe not by your arcane ideas about blood purity, but I grew up not knowing that magic existed, until one day, someone stopped by my house and explained it to me," she said. "I thought that I was a muggleborn. I had to fight as though I was a muggleborn. I had to work three times as hard as others because I was a muggleborn. So, no, I don't think that they are different from us. Not where it really matters."
He looked at her, with agony on his face. "I don't care — I don't care about any of that stuff," he pleaded with her. "I just want to be with you and... I care about you so much, Hermione. I just want to be with you and I will do whatever I need to do to be with you. Please."
It was not a full throated denial of blood purity and Voldemort's side that she was hoping for, but it had gone better than she had hoped. Still, she wasn't sure what to make of Rabastan's convictions. He rather struck her as someone who'd never challenged his status quo, because he didn't have to. And why should he, when the world was set up for him to succeed?
She felt out of balance, unsure of herself, but she remained sure that Rabastan was at least honest about his feelings for her. And, if that was all she had to go off of now, she would take it.
"Well, it's a good thing that we are going to be married, then," Hermione said, with a half-smile, hoping to break some of the lingering tension. "So, you'll really get to be with me forever then."
He reached for her hand once again and pressed a kiss to each of her fingertips this time. "I am counting down the days," he revealed, cupping her cheek gently. "You are all that I want."
