A/N Thanks for all the support guys. Sorry to keep you waiting longer for this one. I got stuck for a bit!
He nearly died he nearly died he nearly died he nearly died he nearly died he nearly died…
The words echoed endlessly around Hermione's brain, underpinning all her other thoughts like a haunting drone. Yet despite that, she could still barely believe it.
She'd nearly lost her best friend.
And for once, it hadn't been Harry.
The incident happened hours ago, around breakfast time, but she, Harry and Ginny had been prevented from seeing Ron, forced instead to stare at the closed doors of the Hospital Wing. And wait.
Hermione liked to think that she was blessed with a good amount of patience, but she found herself at her limit. Ron should be fine - Harry had administered the bezoar in time, preventing Ron's death, but who knew what aftereffects the lethal poison might have wrought? She had read about the damage poisons could leave behind…
Her stomach was twisting with anxiety for her friend but she knew guilt was equally responsible for her discomfort. Although relations between herself, Ron and Harry were not as dire as they had been over the Christmas holidays, they were certainly still strained.
Hermione had heeded Professor Snape's words and melted a little towards the boys, talking to them again once she had become more comfortable releasing her mental shields and re-experiencing emotions more fully. They had responded keenly, relieved that she was no longer ignoring them, and her heart had clenched painfully at their eagerness and willingness to bring her straight back into their midst even though she had hurt them. That simple acceptance had disconcerted her more than it comforted her - she didn't deserve that kindness from them, not with how she was keeping secrets about Antonin. That feeling had threatened to overwhelm her new resolve to live beyond her shields and so she had kept her manner reserved and civil, but distant. She had turned down Harry's offer to study in the library together and Ron's suggestion that they all visit Hagrid. She saw the light fade from their faces as they realised things weren't going back to normal, and her shields had come up before she could stop them.
Presently, they had been back at school for nearly two months and the distance between them had settled into something that now almost felt natural. Almost. For her, anyway, because she kept herself busy enough with her attempts to not think about Antonin that she consequently didn't have time to notice her loneliness. The boys were busy with quidditch and/or girlfriends anyway and Hermione had almost convinced herself that it was fine.
Professor Snape had disagreed.
Just as he had back on the eighth of January, her Defence professor had looked irritated to be once again discussing her friendships at the end of their session last night. "I was under the impression that you had decided to resume your friendships with Potter and Weasley."
"I have, it's just…not what it was," she'd replied.
"You're still relying on your shields?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Hermione distinctly remembered frowning at Snape - not something she'd done much before. However, she hadn't frowned in displeasure at his question, but rather in confusion at why he was asking it in the first place. Why did Snape care so much about the status of her relationship with Harry and Ron? She couldn't deny that he had done much to help her over the past six months; he'd built her Occlumency skills up to incredible strength, and had provided support and guidance in her situation with Dolohov whilst maintaining certain confidences (she presumed) but she didn't seriously believe that he cared about her emotional state beyond a surface level. In January he'd intervened because she had developed an unhealthy dependency on her shields which likely would've impacted her health, but she was better now. She wasn't using her shields so much and she'd somewhat resumed her friendship with the boys. So why was Snape - someone who appeared to openly dislike the vast majority of his pupils - not only still interested but unsatisfied?
A finger of suspicion ran down her spine. What was motivating his questions? You need to watch your back, Milaya, said Antonin's voice in her head but she didn't swat it away like she might have done a few weeks ago.
Instead she said, "Maybe it's for the best."
Snape's dark eyes narrowed. "How so?"
"If Harry and I drift apart and he doesn't care about me as much, I am no longer such a liability." She watched him keenly, waiting to see what she could glean from his reaction.
Disappointingly, Snape was completely unmoved in the first instance. "You don't believe Potter would still do anything within his power to protect you if some harm should befall you? You truly think the previous years of friendship are being erased by your actions?" he posed, the tone of his voice making it quite clear how little he thought of her comments.
Hermione released a little reluctant sigh. "No," she murmured. It had been naive to expect Snape to react to the 'liability' term - of course she was a risk, that had been clear from the early days of her curse. No, what she needed to discover, what Antonin had gotten her questioning, was what the Order would do if her reliance on the Death Eater's touch exceeded the accepted level of risk. Did she really have to watch her back? Was she even ready to hear the answer?
Snape's expression was still typically locked down but he opened his mouth, perhaps to continue his peculiar urging to get her to become closer to Harry and Ron again, but she interrupted him.
"What if we can't break the curse? What if I get worse? What'll happen to me?"
Again, there wasn't even a flicker in Snape's expression. "Your visits to Azkaban will continue for as long and as frequently as necessary."
Hermione resisted the urge to shift around restlessly in disappointment at his answer. Perhaps her questions weren't direct enough. "What happens when the risk is too great?"
Finally there was a reaction - Snape raised a dark eyebrow. "You believe that possibility to be a when and not an if?"
"If then!" she all but snapped at him, annoyed by his evasiveness, be it intended or not. "If the rest of the dementors abandon Azkaban, if the curse starts behaving erratically, if Voldemort," Snape flinched minutely at the name but Hermione carried on regardless, "or his Death Eaters learn that I need to see Antonin to live, if there's another break out and he escapes again, if -" It was on the tip of her tongue to say if I can't push him away anymore but she swallowed those words down quickly. "If - if any of that or something equally as bad happens, what then?"
Snape's gaze bored into her own as a heavy silence hung around them until he said, "This is a war. Bad things are going to happen before it is resolved. They have already happened to some of your fellow students and their families. Have those around them ceased to protect and watch out for them?"
"Of course not," Hermione replied, her anger dropping quickly away at the recollection that classmates and friends had lost loved ones. "But…" Her situation was different, wasn't it? And Snape still hadn't actually answered her questions.
Her professor's own patience seemed to be under strain because he said with no softness in his voice, "What precisely are you trying to get me to say, Miss Granger? What is the real question that you've been skirting around this evening?"
The words hovered in her chest, both fighting and reluctant to get out and be heard. Once they were voiced, she couldn't take them back. But it felt like she was going mad to have this paranoia and suspicion lurking over her shoulder when there was so much else she had to deal with.
Snape's mouth shifted downwards ever so slightly and she thought she read disappointment in his expression, doubting her courage.
The question finally broke free. "Do I need to watch my back?" Her voice was small. Scared. Hurt.
Snape didn't look surprised at the question. Was that telling? Shouldn't he be shocked that she would even question her safety amongst her own? Did it mean Antonin was right?
"Have you not been watching your back in this castle for many years?" he questioned, completely throwing her for a moment. The Slytherins, she realised, though he would never say so out loud.
"That's not what I meant, Professor, and you know it," she said, heart thumping painfully in her chest. "I'm talking about people that I trust - that I'm supposed to trust. The Order -"
Snape cut her off, his voice firm yet somehow reassuring. "Nobody in the Order wants you to come to any harm, Hermione."
She let out a ragged breath and nearly melted to the floor. Unwanted tears shone in her eyes. "Truly, sir? You're not lying."
Maintaining a steady gaze, Snape put an open palm on his chest. "On my heart and my honour, I am not," he confirmed.
Hermione nodded, blinking rapidly, and tried to swallow down the swelling of emotion in her throat. "Then why are you so insistent about me being friends with Harry and Ron," she said thickly, mostly to give them something to talk about and distract her from the intensity of the last few moments. "And don't pretend that you care about me," she added quickly, forcing out an unconvincing laugh and trying to discreetly wipe her eyes.
He waited until she was looking directly at him once more before he answered, "If Potter is to defeat the Dark Lord, he will need you - your support, intelligence, loyalty and your maturity - by his side."
Ignoring the fact that that was probably the nicest thing Snape had ever said about her (even if it was in a roundabout way), Hermione should've realised that this was about Harry. Not helping him, as such, because Snape still so clearly hated him, but helping Harry to defeat Voldemort. That was the most important thing. A victorious Voldemort brought an end to the future for nearly everyone she cared about. "I see," she murmured. Why didn't he just say so earlier?
"And I do have a duty of care towards you, Miss Granger," he said, voice cool and emotionless, "especially with all that I am asking you to do."
His words produced a mixture of uncomfortable emotions within her and a suspicion that he might be leading towards talking about Antonin, which was something she always wanted to avoid so she said contritely, "I'm sorry, Professor. I spoke out of turn -" she grimaced, "numerous times."
"Perhaps," he agreed with an inclination of his head and another arched eyebrow.
"But forcing myself to spend time with Harry and Ron again - not because I want to or feel comfortable doing so but so that he can be better prepared to face Voldemort - that would demean our friendship, sir. I could never use him that way."
The professor's jawline was tense - probably from a combination of frustration with her and in response to her using Voldemort's name. "Admirable sentiments," he said but she couldn't decipher from his tone whether he was being genuine or sarcastic. Probably the latter. "All I ask is that you try on a couple of occasions in the next week not to distance yourself so readily from their presence. Your friendship will never be what it once was if you don't give it the chance to regrow. You three care about each other. That's all it takes." Before Hermione could voice another objection, he continued, "I was once foolish enough to self-sabotage the only friendship that ever mattered to me. Like me, you might end up regretting it for the rest of your life and theirs - however long or short they may turn out to be…"
Hermione should have listened to him. She should've gone straight to Harry and Ron as soon as her Occlumency lesson had finished last night and made plans for the next day to celebrate Ron's birthday instead of avoiding their eyes and hurrying through the common room and disappearing up into her dormitory.
If she had heeded Snape's advice, maybe events would have turned out differently and Ron wouldn't have nearly lost his life. Ron had nearly died and only Harry's quick thinking and the luck of there being a bezoar nearby had saved him. Hermione had spurned the opportunity to make amends with her best friends and she had nearly lost the chance to ever speak to Ron again. In ignoring the almost prophetic words of Snape, she had almost lost Ron without letting him know how much she loved and valued his friendship. They'd had an unbearably close call and Hermione wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, not when both overt and hidden dangers constantly loomed over them all.
Hermione had said very little since arriving outside the Hospital Wing. Despite her fears for Ron's life dominating her thoughts, she'd still felt a few qualms of uncertainty about whether Harry and Ginny would welcome her presence after her recent attempts to keep her distance from them. However, Ginny immediately threw her arms around Hermione's shoulders upon spotting her and hugged her tightly. Harry had looked relieved to see her and wasted no time in telling her what had happened with Romilda Vane's love potion and the poisoned mead.
In truth, there'd been very little discussion amongst any of them since then even though it was surely getting close to lunchtime.
Why had they received no news? That had to be a bad sign, didn't it? Madam Pomfrey could only run so many tests, couldn't she?
Hermione let out a rather noisy aggravated and impatient sigh. Without hesitating, Harry reached over and squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She gasped, yanking her burning hand away.
Oh damn. She had completely forgotten that she was due to see Antonin today and her spirits plummeted even as an unwanted thrill of anticipation zipped across her skin.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Harry said apologetically. "I didn't realise - I've lost track of your burning cycle. I'm sorry."
She put a reassuring hand on his sleeve. "It's alright - I reacted more to the shock of it. The burn wasn't very painful."
Harry still looked concerned, as did Ginny. "Do you need to leave?" she asked.
Hermione shook her head and pulled at the sleeve of her woollen cardigan so that she could hide as much of her fingers under the cuff as possible. "I can't. Not now." She made a gesture at the door, struggling to verbalise that she couldn't bear to leave without knowing how Ron was, whether he was out of danger or still fighting for his life. The prospect of receiving relief (and therefore pleasure) from Antonin while Ron's fate was unknown fairly sickened her.
"Hermione," Harry began doubtfully.
"It can wait," she said firmly. "Until we know how he is."
There was a long moment of stillness and then Ginny barged through the Hospital Wing doors. Hermione and Harry stared after her in shock, simply watching the doors swing closed with their mouths hanging open.
"Should we…follow her?" Harry asked after a few seconds.
"I don't know," Hermione replied honestly. It was surprising that Ginny hadn't already been thrown out but if she and Harry crossed into Madam Pomfrey's domain too, she was bound to view it as an unacceptable invasion.
Before they could make a decision either way, Ginny reappeared and gave them a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "She thinks he's going to be alright," she told them, causing immense relief to flood through Hermione's body. "He's resting," Ginny added, "Won't wake for hours yet." She focused on Hermione. "So if you go now then you should be back before then. I know he'll be pleased to see you."
Hermione pressed her lips together, still unhappy at the prospect of having to see Antonin even though she wouldn't be missed here in the meantime. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "Thanks, Ginny. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Ginny embraced her and Harry gave her a reassuring and carefully placed pat on the arm, and it took a lot of strength for her to turn away from them even though she'd been doing it for weeks.
Professor McGonagall would be unable to guide her to the gates because Hermione knew that she was dealing with the aftermath of the poisoning incident and was expecting Mr and Mrs Weasley to arrive within the next couple of hours. So it would have to be Snape.
She knew that it made sense to walk quickly to gather her cloak and potion, eager as she was to return to the Hospital Wing, but she found herself unable to get her legs moving with purpose. The air around her seemed thicker somehow, as though she was forcing her feet through treacle. She should be relieved - Madam Pomfrey thought Ron was going to be alright - but Hermione couldn't raise her glum spirits.
Snape eyed her coolly when he opened his office door. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I have an appointment to attend, Professor."
He only hesitated for a moment then gave a curt nod. Perhaps he'd been in the middle of something - though Hermione had no idea what Snape did in his free time. "Very well. I will meet you outside the Entrance Hall."
This was standard. Hermione rarely walked through the castle's corridors with Snape or McGonagall when she was leaving or returning from Azkaban - to do so would only bring her unwanted attention.
Just before Snape had completely closed the door, she quietly said, "You were right."
The door paused and she could see just a sliver of his face. She didn't know if he had heard about what had happened to Ron (though it seemed likely given the seriousness of the incident) but there was a hint of understanding in his gaze. He did not make a comment or look pleased, just nodded, and the door clanked closed.
They did not talk on the walk through the grounds. This, again, was usual because she had previously used the time to clear herself of emotion and erect her mental shields. However, both her proficiency at Occlumency and Antonin's ongoing request to converse upon her arrival meant that this was no longer necessary. However she would have welcomed the distraction of a conversation today (though she could think of nothing she wished to talk with her professor about) because it meant that she could finally no longer avoid thinking about Antonin and what had almost happened on her last visit. Yet she knew she couldn't put it off before she got to Azkaban, it would be foolish to go before Antonin without giving herself a mental berating.
She had almost let him kiss her.
His mouth had been on the edge of hers and only by desperately dredging up some resistance from deep within had she been able to force him away. Antonin had used his mouth and his hands to get her worked up into such a state that she had hardly cared what was happening beyond how good it felt. She had wanted to feel his lips against her own so desperately and she honestly had no idea how she had managed to find the strength to deny herself. But she had. Thank Merlin, she had.
Yet as relieved as she was about that, the undeniable and shameful truth that burned deep within her in quite a different way from his curse was that a part of her still craved his kiss. She had spent the last nine days steadfastly refusing to acknowledge that desire but now was the time to face it so that she could avoid a situation where she would be presented with the choice again.
Ignoring all the early spring flower shoots along the path, Hermione cast her mind back to what preceded the close escape. They had been talking about Antonin's books; his father; his parents' deaths. She had tried to reach out to him but this had only antagonised him. That wasn't exactly a surprising reaction. She'd experienced Antonin going on the attack in response to possible weaknesses before but she hadn't quite anticipated that he'd use his touch on her as an outlet for his emotions.
Of course, apart from ensuring that her shields were always up before he touched her, the easiest thing would be to avoid all talk of his parents. But, on the other hand, Antonin's reaction had proved that maybe there was a way to reach him like Snape wanted her to, like she felt compelled to. Their academic discussions over the last month had shown him in a much different light. She almost liked Antonin when they were just talking about magic together. Conversing with him was unlike anything she had with her friends and also very different from talking to a professor. Although he frequently challenged her with intellectual problems and imparted some of his knowledge on her, strangely, it felt almost as though he was talking to her as an equal. He wasn't antagonistic or sneering, he complimented her, made jokes, listened attentively and exhibited the same enthusiasm for knowledge that she possessed.
How different his life might have been if he hadn't sold his soul to Voldemort.
Had he really had any choice in the matter? She had no idea though she longed to know the truth. Had he truly chosen to follow Voldemort and his ideals, or had his path been set since birth? Maybe Antonin didn't know the difference, couldn't even see that there was a difference - but to Hermione it was very distinct.
She couldn't prevent a glance at Snape. Did the difference matter to him at all? Did Snape care whether Antonin was a Death Eater to his core or a product of his parents as long as Hermione somehow swayed Antonin to their side?
Snape came to a halt. Startled, Hermione did likewise, unaware whilst deep in her musings that they had arrived at the school gates.
"Are you in a fit state to apparate to and from Azkaban, Miss Granger?" he asked.
Hermione blinked in surprise and then her stomach twisted guiltily. She hadn't thought about Ron for the entire walk down. "Yes, I'll be fine, sir."
"Very well." He pointed his wand at the heavy lock and the chains unwound, letting Hermione out. "I will be here when you return." She didn't know what Snape and McGonagall did while they waited for her but she was sure that there was a disguised hut nearby for them to shelter in.
"Thank you, professor," she said and stepped through the gates. After a second to compose herself, she felt the familiar uncomfortable squeeze of disapparation and then she was nearly blown over by the force of the gale whipping across the entrance to Azkaban.
It took her a couple of attempts to conjure up her otter patronus but it gambolled happily in front of her, lifting her spirits slightly. She did her best to ignore the scowl the two aurors on duty sent her way. Hermione must have seen all the aurors that rotated through Azkaban though she couldn't name any of them. She sometimes thought that it would be nice to see Tonks or Kingsley here but then again she wouldn't wish a shift at Azkaban on them.
The tall, greying middle-aged wizard that left the protected guard room to escort her gave her a curt nod. His magpie patronus soared along the familiar path to Antonin's cell. Even over eight months on from her first visit to the prison, Hermione still found the journey past the other cells and their inhabitants nightmarish. It was only slightly easier to block out their cries, moans and nonsensical mutterings if she had her shields up. The troubling sounds fell away as they came before Antonin's door and the auror watched her leave her wand in the holding case fixed to the stone wall before he shifted the wards and allowed her to enter.
Antonin looked up from his seat at the table, a few books and a couple of sheets of parchment laid out in front of him, his eyes gleaming in expectation and hunger as they swept over her. Hermione willed herself not to blush but sometimes it was difficult to tell when she was already heated from his curse.
"Milaya," he murmured. "How good to see you."
Hermione decided to ignore that comment and instead took out the dreamless sleep potion and walked over to place it before him. "Here you go." Her eyes glanced over the items on his table and it was only then that she remembered the book that she'd borrowed from him. "I forgot your book. I'm sorry."
"Did you read it?"
"Yes."
He paused, the expression on his face expectant though Hermione couldn't think why.
Antonin finally picked up the potion and studied her with a frown. "Something's different with you today. What's wrong?"
"Why would anything be wrong?" She didn't know why she was wasting time when she was eager to get back to her friends - she did want to talk to Antonin about what had happened after all. But part of her was intrigued by his observation.
"You normally have a lot to say about anything you've read," he explained, then gestured to the parchment before him. "And you've shown little interest in the new rune translations I've written out for you to decipher."
Hermione refused to be impressed. Any observant person who had spent time with her would surely notice those irregularities in her behaviour. Instead of responding directly to those comments she said, "One of my best friends nearly died this morning." Her voice had wobbled despite her best efforts to maintain her composure.
"Someone attempted to take out Potter?" There was intrigue in his expression and a touch of eagerness in his tone that she found offensive. It was an unsettling reminder that Antonin wanted Harry and the Order dead in the hopes that it would bring about his master's victory and his own release from Azkaban. They could talk about arithmancy all she liked but unless she was able to work some sort of miracle on Antonin, he would seek to support Voldemort and all he represented every chance he got. Compared to that, clearly the life of a child meant nothing. Hers hadn't.
"No, not Harry," she said coldly. "Ron. He was accidentally poisoned."
Antonin raised an eyebrow. "Accidentally?"
Hermione shook her head at his scepticism. "It was an accident," she insisted and then explained what had happened.
"So the intended target of the poison was either Dumbledore or Slughorn himself," Antonin mused when she finished.
Hermione nodded. "That's what I believe."
Antonin frowned. "Not a very clever plan, especially if Dumbledore was the target."
"Yes, there's no way Professor Slughorn would have gifted that oak matured mead to someone else," Hermione put in, unable to stop herself from showing that she'd already had that train of thought.
He gave her an approving nod. "Exactly."
"But this isn't the first attack. Another student nearly died a few months ago."
She could see that he was annoyed that she hadn't told him at the time but he only asked, "What happened?"
This time, Hermione explained about Katie Bell and the cursed necklace.
"Another childish plan," Antonin scoffed. "Of course it failed to reach its target. It's still unknown who it was meant for?"
Hermione shook her head, contemplating his use of the word childish. Imperiusing someone to deliver a cursed item in the hopes of bringing about someone's death was no juvenile prank. But had it been the work of a child? Harry certainly believed so, even though Malfoy hadn't been in Hogsmeade that day and the school's security screenings prevented dangerous objects being delivered. "Do you think a student could be carrying out these attacks?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied instantly. "Either someone particularly dull-witted or incredibly desperate."
"And more dangerous in a way," she pointed out, "because they don't seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim."
"Do you have suspects? Any of your classmates that you think have been given the Mark?" His tone was far too light for Hermione's liking.
"One." She paused. She knew that Malfoy was up to something because of what she'd overheard of his conversation with Snape whilst under the invisibility cloak with Harry at Slughorn's Christmas party. After hearing that Antonin had been Marked so young, she also believed that Draco was a Death Eater. But did that mean he was behind the attacks? Would it do any harm to mention his name to Antonin, stuck here in his cell? She took the risk. "Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco."
He let out a short breath of laughter that she couldn't interpret. "And does he have the temperament and intelligence-level to match these attacks?"
"He can't have been responsible for the Hogsmeade attack - he was in detention at the time."
Antonin swatted her comment away. "That's irrelevant. There would have been a way around that - an accomplice perhaps."
Hermione found it strange how Antonin's reasoning momentarily aligned with Harry's but she focused her thoughts on Malfoy. "He has always been cruel, taking every opportunity to put himself above others with slurs and insults. He hates me and people like me, probably wishes we didn't exist." She suddenly recalled encountering him during the chaos after the Quidditch World Cup final. He could have endangered her - leading those Death Eaters towards both Harry Potter and a vulnerable muggleborn but he hadn't… "He could have put me in serious danger a couple of years ago but he didn't, and I've known him to be somewhat cowardly too - hiding behind his bigger friends, getting scared in the Forbidden Forest."
"If he's used to others doing his dirty work for him then it makes sense that he'd try and find an indirect way to kill his target," Antonin pointed out.
"And in the hopes of avoiding being caught and facing responsibility for his actions," she added.
"So he's not stupid."
Hermione shook her head.
"Which means that if young Malfoy is the attacker, his sloppiness and disregard for the safety of others is due to desperation to get the task done."
"To please…" She hesitated knowing it would be unwise to speak Voldemort's name out loud. "... Him?"
"Nobody would be that desperate to please the Dark Lord unless it was really to obey him."
"I know that Malfoy has been given a task," she admitted.
He looked at her in frank surprise. "How could you possibly know that?"
"I overheard him talking," she answered, trying to remember everything she'd heard whilst under the cloak. "He didn't know we were there. He denied being responsible for the necklace attack but I don't think the other person believed him. Malfoy stormed out before we could find out exactly what his task was but he thought completing it would bring him glory."
"Then the target is Dumbledore," Antonin said bluntly and Hermione felt a chill down her spine.
"Not Slughorn?" she queried. "He is apparently concerned about being hunted down by your side. He thought Hogwarts would be a safer place for him to hide."
Antonin shook his head. "Honestly, Old Sluggy is more useful alive than dead. If he is concerned then he's either been shooting his mouth off and oversharing something that he ought not have that someone was foolish to tell him in confidence or he's got some sort of potions knowledge the Dark Lord doesn't want him passing on. Either way, his death isn't going to bring anyone much glory. No, it has to be Dumbledore." He moved his lips back and forth, mulling over that idea, then shook his head. "And the Dark Lord is playing with that boy - giving him a near-impossible task."
"But why?" she asked, disturbed that one of her peers should be set the task of killing the greatest wizard of the age by an evil dark magic user.
Antonin took a moment to consider. "To punish the Malfoy family for Lucius's failure in the Department of Mysteries."
Hermione stared at him, astonished at the insight into how Voldemort's loyal followers might be treated. "And if Draco doesn't succeed?" she asked, voice dry.
Antonin shrugged. "He'll probably be killed."
She gasped but could form no words in response.
"You don't disappoint the Dark Lord without dire consequences," Antonin continued, a dark undertone in his words. "It will serve as a very effective warning to his other followers. If the boy succeeds, I am sure that glory will be his and the honour of his family name restored. My master would see that as a fair deal."
Even though Malfoy had given her years of grief and was potentially responsible for Ron's brush with death, Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him if what Antonin said was true. Taking a life to save your own - what sort of a choice was that for a sixteen year old? Was there no one who could help him?
Again, she thought back to that overheard conversation with Snape. He had offered to protect Draco - had apparently made an unbreakable vow to do so - but Draco had refused his aid. Tell me your plan, Snape had said. And her eyes widened. Plan, not task. If she and Antonin were correct, Snape already knew that Draco had been tasked with killing Dumbledore. She wavered internally for a moment, questioning everything she thought she knew about Snape and whether she could trust him. At the time, she'd concluded that Snape had been trying to get Draco to talk about his plan so that he could stop him, whereas Harry believed their Defence professor was trying to help bring it about. Should her belief in Snape change now that she thought she knew what Draco had been told to do? She had spent so many evenings with him over the last six months. He knew more about her situation than anyone, even her best friends, and if he wasn't actually loyal to Dumbledore then he'd surely had countless opportunities to make her vulnerable position known to Voldemort. He could have endangered her in multiple ways but he hadn't. She did trust him. And if Snape was on their side, he had surely told Dumbledore about Draco's task.
So what were they doing to stop him? Even ignoring the fact that Draco was in a vulnerable state himself, two students had now avoided death by only the barest of margins. How could they let that happen?
Movement flashed in front of her eyes, abruptly breaking her from her thoughts. Antonin was barely a foot from her, waving his hand in front of her face. She took a couple of steps backwards.
"Where did your thoughts take you, zhar-ptitsa?"
"I was…" She thought quickly, wondering what she could tell him that wouldn't be revealing. It didn't occur to her that she didn't have to tell him anything. "I was trying to figure out how to help him."
Antonin chuckled though she failed to see the humour in the situation. "Oh, milaya, he won't want anyone's help - least of all yours - not if he values his life and his family name."
"Could you have been saved?" The words were out of her mouth before she'd even thought them through. "If someone had shown you an alternative path when you were his age?"
There was another laugh but this one was more derisive. "An alternative path? For me?! Oh, my sweet, foolish girl." He shook his head in a manner that Hermione found both patronising and annoying. "You truly have no idea. Besides, I didn't want to be saved."
"Sirius Black found another path. It was possible then and is now."
"And look what happened to him," Antonin retorted. "There is the Dark Lord's path or there is death."
"I don't believe that."
"You are in a position of privilege that gives you an illusion of choice. You have not lived that life. I have and I'm telling you that choice did not exist."
She could sense that he was getting worked up, just like last time, and she knew it was best to cease before things went too far again. "I'm not staying for any academic discussions today," she said, completely changing the subject. "I want to get back to my friends."
He still looked displeased. His mouth silently chewed over some words before he muttered, "Fine."
Hermione took a moment to compose herself and focused on erecting her shields. She wanted to distance herself as much as possible from the pleasure his touch gave her today. "I'm ready." Closing her eyes, she focused on erecting false memories in her mind. It was a technique she'd used in this cell only a couple of times but it had been quite effective in lessening Antonin's impact because her attention was focused on how to manipulate the memory she had chosen through a range of minor and major changes. Her mind instantly presented her with a memory that she wanted to change and she lost herself in creating a version of the past where she had walked straight over to Ron and Harry after her Occlumency session with Snape last night.
A/N Not exactly overflowing with sexual tension this time but that's probably understandable given Ron's near miss. We're really rattling through HBP now - we're at 1st March, not too long to go before summer!
Hope you're all well.