Help Ch.12
Hermione's POV
The sun had set, casting a golden haze over the grounds as students began filing back into the castle after the Fun Day celebrations. Hermione lingered near the entrance of the Great Hall, watching the students walk past her, their laughter filling the air like a sweet reprieve from the reality outside these walls.
For just a few hours, it had almost felt normal again—almost.
As the last of the younger students disappeared down the hallway, Hermione turned to inspect the now-empty space that had been alive with energy only a short while ago. Her mind wandered back to the coded message. She had pushed it to the back of her mind throughout the day, forcing herself to focus on helping the students, but the anxiety never really left. The Horcrux still weighed heavy in her thoughts, and now that the event was over, the familiar sense of dread crept back in.
"Granger."
She jumped slightly at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice, turning to see him leaning against a nearby column, his arms crossed, and his expression unreadable. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the remnants of the day's activities fading into the background.
"You startled me," Hermione said, her voice clipped. She couldn't shake the feeling that Draco was still watching her too closely, still sensing that something wasn't quite right.
Draco's smirk was faint, more restrained than usual. "Didn't mean to. Just… I thought the day went well."
Hermione blinked, surprised by his tone. "I suppose it did," she admitted, unsure of where he was going with this. "The students seemed to enjoy it, at least."
Draco pushed himself off the column and moved closer, his gaze steady but more thoughtful than she expected. "I didn't think it would actually work—this whole 'Fun Day' thing. Thought it was pointless. But…" He paused, glancing around the now-empty hall. "For a moment, it was almost like before."
Hermione didn't know how to respond. She couldn't remember the last time Draco had spoken so openly, so… candidly. She hadn't even considered that he might feel the same kind of weight pressing down on him that she did. For all the quarrels, all the tension between them, there was something in his voice now that felt genuine, as though he, too, was just trying to keep it all together.
"People need distractions," she said quietly, her voice softening. "Especially now."
Draco's eyes flicked to hers, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other. The usual sharpness between them felt muted, replaced by something more complicated. She could sense it—the weight of his own secrets, his own struggles. It made her wonder if, beneath all of the arrogance and sneers, Draco was just as lost as she was.
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Yeah. I guess you're right."
Before she could think of what else to say, Draco straightened up, his usual guarded expression sliding back into place. The moment of vulnerability was gone, replaced by the familiar mask he always wore. He glanced down the hall before turning back to her.
"I've got something to deal with," he said, his voice neutral again. "I'll see you around, Granger."
Hermione watched him go, a strange feeling settling in her chest. Something was different. She wasn't sure what it was, but she couldn't shake the sense that Draco Malfoy was hiding more than she had ever realized.
Draco's POV
Draco's footsteps echoed down the empty corridors as he made his way toward Professor McGonagall's office. His conversation with Granger lingered in his mind longer than he cared to admit. For once, she hadn't been insufferable, and he hadn't felt the need to keep up the usual antagonism between them. It was… unsettling.
But that wasn't what was really weighing on him now. The thought of going to McGonagall for help made his stomach twist with a mixture of dread and pride. It went against everything he'd been taught—everything he was supposed to believe. His family had spent years aligning themselves with the Dark Lord, with his Death Eaters, but Draco had long since realized that this path led nowhere but ruin. He wasn't sure when exactly the breaking point had come—maybe it was that night on the Astronomy Tower, or maybe it was the moment he'd seen the fear in his mother's eyes, knowing their family's safety hung by a thread.
Whatever it was, Draco couldn't live with it anymore.
The castle was quiet as he approached McGonagall's office. He hesitated at the door, his hand hovering in the air before he finally knocked, his breath catching in his throat.
"Enter," came McGonagall's voice, sharp and efficient.
Draco pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the flickering light of candles casting long shadows over the walls. Professor McGonagall sat at her desk, her usual stern expression softening slightly when she saw who it was.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said, her voice calm but curious. "To what do I owe the visit at this hour?"
Draco swallowed, the weight of what he was about to say pressing down on him. He took a breath and stepped forward, his usual bravado slipping away.
"I need help," he said, his voice quieter than he intended. "With… with the Death Eaters."
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up, and for the first time in his life, Draco saw genuine surprise cross her face. She leaned forward slightly, her sharp gaze fixed on him. "Explain."
Draco hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. How much could he say? How much should he say? The fear of betraying his family, of turning against everything they stood for, gnawed at him. But he knew—deep down—there was no going back.
"I can't do it anymore," he said, his voice steadying as the words spilled out. "The Death Eaters… they're everywhere. I know things. I know what they're planning. But I can't… I can't keep pretending like I'm one of them. Not anymore."
McGonagall's expression remained unreadable, but her eyes softened just slightly as she regarded him. "And why are you telling me this, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco clenched his fists, his throat tightening. "Because… because I need help. I don't know what to do. My family is… they're all tangled up in this, but I—"
He stopped, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. He didn't want to break. Not here. Not in front of her.
McGonagall was silent for a long moment, her eyes never leaving his. Finally, she stood, moving around the desk to stand in front of him. Her voice was quieter now, but it held an unmistakable strength.
"Mr. Malfoy," she began, her tone measured. "If what you're saying is true, then you are making a very dangerous decision. Do you understand what you're risking?"
Draco met her gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
McGonagall studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Very well. We will discuss this further. But I need you to be absolutely certain of where your loyalties lie."
Draco exhaled, the tension leaving his body all at once. "I'm certain."
"Good," McGonagall said, her voice firm. "Then we'll work together. But be cautious, Mr. Malfoy. You're walking a dangerous line."
Hermione's POV: Gryffindor Common Room
The Gryffindor common room was warm, filled with the sound of crackling logs and the soft murmur of conversations. Most of the students were still buzzing from the day's events, but for Hermione, the weight of the correspondences from Harry and Ron continued to press down on her. She had to figure out a way to move the Horcrux safely, and get ready to join them.
Ginny was sitting on one of the plush armchairs near the fire, her legs tucked up beneath her as she flipped through an old Quidditch magazine. When she saw Hermione enter, she waved her over with a bright smile.
"You survived the day," Ginny teased as Hermione sat down beside her. "Barely."
Hermione chuckled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It wasn't so bad. The students seemed to enjoy it."
"They did," Ginny agreed. She paused, her expression turning more serious. "But you've been off all day. I've noticed. What's going on?"
Hermione hesitated. She hadn't told Ginny about the locket or the message she'd received from Harry and Ron. She wasn't sure how much she could share, but the concern in Ginny's eyes made her feel guilty for keeping her in the dark.
"There's just… a lot going on," Hermione said, her voice soft. "More than I can explain."
Ginny raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Hermione nodded, feeling a wave of affection for her friend. Ginny had been through so much already, and yet she still managed to keep her strength and optimism intact. Hermione wished she could say the same for herself.
"I know," she said quietly. "And I will, when I can."
Ginny reached out and squeezed her hand. "Just… don't carry it all alone, okay? Whatever it is, we're in this together."
Hermione smiled, though the weight of her secrets remained. "Thanks, Ginny."
For now, she had to focus on the next step. She needed to find a way to move the Horcrux without drawing any more attention. And she needed to do it soon. It was almost October third.
