Chapter 2
"Hermione"
She saw a tall man leaning against the compartment door. His gaze was amused as he looked at her, as though she were a helpless lost cat. His dark hair covered his forehead, and a few long strands partially hid his brown eyes beneath. Theodore Nott, a Slytherin, his arrogance clear from his well-groomed appearance. His looks made many girls swoon. Yes, she could admit he was quite attractive. He kept staring at her. She slowly walked toward him.
"I’m Theodore Nott, nice to meet you here."
Theo’s smile was very charming, almost mesmerizing. He extended his hand to her.
"I am..."
"No, no. You don’t need to introduce yourself. Everyone knows you as 'the golden girl,' Harry Potter’s best friend."
The hand she had been about to extend stopped in midair. She was displeased at being noticed only because of her connection with Harry. Jealousy. You could call it that. Her face stiffened, and she looked at Theo with a serious expression.
"Please don’t call me that," she murmured.
"Which part, Hermione?" Theo teased mischievously.
"Forget it, Nott," she sighed, frustrated by his joke.
Seeing she was upset, he stopped teasing. He walked gently closer to her. Being taller, he had a more imposing presence. She looked up at him. His face held no contempt toward her; it was only gentle. She felt herself relax a little.
"Why is my girl here? Did the scarhead and the redhead leave you alone?"
"We just had a little argument. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I stepped out," she looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes. Her words were evasive; she didn’t want him to know too much. She didn’t care about him calling her "my girl."
He sensed her discomfort and evasion, so he didn’t press further. He knew the argument between the three of them wasn’t trivial. He extended his arm behind her back. She didn’t reject his touch. He led her into the compartment, guiding her to sit on one side. Theo sat opposite her, and they both remained silent. Each of them had their own thoughts but said nothing.
She knew she had to be cautious with every word, especially since the person she was speaking to was no ordinary person. He was a true snake, cunning and sly. If she revealed anything, it could be detrimental, especially the matter that caused the argument between her, Harry, and Ron. The person they had been discussing was Theo’s friend. Although she wasn’t sure if Draco and Theo were close friends, she often saw Draco with Blaise, Pansy, and two bodyguards. If she paid attention, Theo was highly intelligent; he excelled in most subjects. There was very little information about him, which showed that he kept his secrets well. She couldn’t underestimate someone like him. He must have noticed her evasion earlier, which was why he didn’t press.
The silence between them stretched on, seemingly endless. She kept her eyes on the book in her hands but didn’t let her guard down. Looking at Theo silently across from her, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
He pulled a book from his bag and handed it to her. She looked at him, unsure of his intentions. Nevertheless, she took the book. It looked old, though the leather cover still gleamed, suggesting it had been well-kept. She couldn’t find the author’s name or any related information. The title of the book intrigued her.
The Queen’s Secret.
She looked at him, observing his expression. But there was nothing to read. She opened the book; the pages were slightly wrinkled, the text faded but still legible.
"This is quite an interesting book. I thought you might like it," he said.
"I’m sure I will. Thank you," she replied.
"Who’s the author?" she asked.
"I’m not sure. I think it’s a French writer from the 19th century," he said.
"How did you get your hands on such an old book?"
"It was in my family’s library. We have quite a few books from past centuries," he replied, watching her as she immersed herself in the book.
"There’s a line I quite like in this book." She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. "One of the queen’s loyal subjects said: 'She is a queen, wise, beautiful, great, and full of secrets. And I know I am only one of the subjects she exploits. But if I am to be exploited, I offer my life to her. Please trust me, my queen.'"
"That’s really nice," she commented, intrigued.
"Yes, it shows the subject’s loyalty to the queen. Even though she has many secrets, he’s willing to become one of them. He’s willing to offer his life," he smiled, though his smile held many other meanings. She stayed silent. "If I were him, I’d also willingly be exploited. My queen."
When he finished the last part, "my queen," his gaze lingered on her. Hermione remained calm, despite his eyes not leaving her.
"Why would you want to be exploited? You’re a Slytherin," she replied indifferently.
"What’s wrong with being a Slytherin? If you were the queen, I’d willingly be exploited by you."
"Why would I exploit you?" she smiled awkwardly, forcing the most innocent smile she could muster.
He stared at her with sharp eyes. "If you don’t want to, that’s fine."
"I’ll wait for you."
Neither of them looked at each other or spoke. She turned her gaze to the window. The rain had stopped, but inside, her heart was in turmoil. She wasn’t sure, but the reason he gave her this book wasn’t just as a gift. Was he trying to hint at something? Did he want her to exploit him? But why would he want that?
Theo intrigued her, but she remained cautious. During school, she had noticed him, but not much. Now, she wanted to learn more about him because he could certainly be useful to her.
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Arriving at Hogwarts, the school remained the same. Professor McGonagall stood in her usual stern manner, waiting in front of the Great Hall for the first-year students. Their luggage had already been taken to their rooms. In contrast to the gloomy weather outside, Hogwarts was lit up by many candles, their light engulfing the ancient castle. The students chatted excitedly. Many were already seated at their tables, waiting for the new students. The Great Hall was bathed in warm golden light. House banners hung from the ceiling, and floating candles hovered above.
She noticed that Harry and Ron had already seated themselves. Ginny and others were beside them. She hesitated slightly, not wanting to enter. But Theo was right behind her. He glanced coldly at the Great Hall. She followed his gaze toward the Slytherin table. Draco was seated in the center, quieter than before. Around him, people fawned over him. Blaise and Pansy were chatting.
"Shall we go in?" Theo turned to her and asked.
"Yes," she replied.
The two of them, along with the others, entered. Theo smiled and greeted her before disappearing into the crowd. She returned a faint smile. But once she was sure he had turned away, her smile vanished, replaced by a serious and indifferent expression. She walked toward the Gryffindor table. Everyone there looked at her. She knew they were wondering why she wasn’t with Harry and Ron. She ignored their whispers.
Ginny, seeing her, immediately brightened. The girl stood up and ran over to her. Hermione gave Ginny a friendly smile. Ginny hugged her tightly, the long-awaited embrace. Then, Ginny pulled her toward the group. Hermione noticed Harry’s wary expression and Ron’s angry face. She didn’t care. She kept her fake smile in place.
"I missed you so much, Mione," Ginny said eagerly.
"I missed you too, Ginny."
"We’re planning a small party tonight. You’ll come, right?" Ginny looked at the others. They all nodded in agreement. "It’s just a small gathering."
"Do you really think someone as boring as her would join us, Ginny?" Ron sneered. "All she does is study, not care about parties."
"Ron! Don’t say that. She’ll agree, right?" Ginny looked at her expectantly.
She knew Ron was aiming his words at her, but she didn’t care. If she wanted to change, this had to be different. She didn’t mind seeing Ron angry.
Hermione smiled lightly, not looking at Ron. "Of course, I’ll come. I’ll be there on time."
Ginny beamed at her. "I knew you’d agree! 8:00 tonight, at our common room."
Hermione smiled brightly and nodded. The smile of victory. She knew Ron was furious, but she hadn’t looked at him since then.
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"I hate her smile," Ron slammed his hand on the table. "It’s so fake."
Harry, sitting beside him, stared at Hermione in silence. He didn’t feel the same as Ron; instead, he felt more guilty. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to choose; they were both his best friends. But he had to put that aside, because Voldemort was now his primary concern.
"What's wrong with you? Still thinking about Voldemort?"
"Oh, nothing."
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Professor McGonagall led the first-year students in. The young students eagerly looked around, chatting non-stop. Their faces were full of excitement, with no attempt to hide it. It was the same as always—time for the Sorting Ceremony. The professor called out each name, and the students took turns stepping up. The hat shouted out the names of the houses with joy. The older students clapped and cheered loudly in the Great Hall.
As she watched the first-years, she remembered when her name was called, and she was sorted into Gryffindor. How happy she had been at that moment. Ginny, sitting next to her, was laughing and joking non-stop. She glanced toward the Slytherin table and noticed Draco was looking at her. They locked eyes for a moment, but neither acknowledged it. She turned back to look at the elderly headmaster.
Dumbledore stepped up to the podium to speak. But unlike the joyful speeches in the past, his face was serious as he said, "Welcome, all of you, to Hogwarts. As you know, many unfortunate events have taken place at our school. Therefore, I hope you will follow the rules, avoid the Forbidden Forest, and return to your common rooms before curfew. Failure to comply will result in consequences you will regret."
The headmaster's stern words made the first-year students anxious and fearful. The older students began murmuring among themselves, their unease apparent. McGonagall signaled for silence.
"Especially the danger posed by the One Whom Everyone Knows. He has caused the deaths of many people, including students at our school. But rest assured, as long as you follow the rules and stay within the school grounds, you will be safe."
Below, the students continued to murmur. Even though they were told they would be safe, many had heard of the Dark Lord, and few remained calm. The older students remembered the death of Cedric Diggory, a student killed by Voldemort in their fourth year. The horrific scene still haunted them.
"Calm down, everyone," Dumbledore continued. "I want to introduce our new Potions Master. Professor Slughorn will now be teaching at our school, and Professor Snape will be transferring to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts from now on. I wish you all a successful year. Now..." Dumbledore waved his hand, and food appeared on the tables, causing everyone to gasp in awe. Dumbledore raised his glass to the other professors.
Everyone now immersed in the joy of the feast. Everyone was eating heartily, and laughter filled the air. The ghosts began to appear, flying around the hall, and everything seemed as if nothing had happened.
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"How ridiculous. Who does he think he is? When the Dark Lord returns, we will take power," a fourth-year's voice rang out, catching everyone's attention.
The sixth and seventh-year students looked at the foolish boy. Their glares silenced him immediately. The first-years whispered among themselves. Blaise glanced at the boy and then at Draco.
"How's the mission going, Draco?"
Draco didn’t look at Blaise, nor did he move. "Not yet," he replied.
"Snape isn’t teaching Potions anymore. We’re going to be at a disadvantage," Blaise said, feeling down.
"We won’t be here long, so it doesn’t matter, Blaise," Draco replied firmly. His words only sparked louder conversations around them.
"What do you mean by that, Draco?" Pansy spoke up.
"The Dark Lord will return soon. When that happens, we, the ones with the Mark, will be summoned," Draco said softly but loud enough for them all to hear.
Theo, sitting on the side, listened closely. "You’ve already called him the Dark Lord?"
Draco looked at Theo with indifference. "Don’t be stupid. He’s been summoning me constantly. And with that madwoman—who’s called Aunt—always at my house, what do you think I should call him? The old half-blood with no nose?"
Blaise and Pansy chuckled quietly. They agreed with Draco. After all, if being constantly surrounded by Bellatrix hadn’t driven him mad, it was a miracle.
"All three of us have the Mark. It's just me left, right?" Pansy said.
"Your father has it too," Blaise sneered.
"Thanks for the reminder, Blaise," Pansy rolled her eyes. Blaise just kept laughing.
Draco remained silent, ignoring them. He was staring at his arm, remembering the day he was branded. Voldemort had threatened his parents’ lives to force his compliance. He had no choice but to agree. Since then, he had lived in fear, worried that Voldemort might kill his family. Or that if he made a mistake like his father, he wouldn’t survive. All summer long, there was no day he could sleep peacefully. The tasks with Bellatrix left him exhausted. The torture from Voldemort invading his mind was worse than any curse. Yet, he had to endure it every day. His face had become like a snake's, his skin wrinkled and greenish, his eyes bloodshot, and without a nose. The torment continued throughout the summer break.
The only thing that kept him going was his mother. After each session of torture, she was there beside him. But all she could do was comfort him, treat the external wounds. His father, however, had sunk even deeper into the abyss Voldemort had created.
Scars were visible all over his body. Some were healing, but others would remain forever, forming gruesome reminders of the pain. He couldn’t even count how many times he had to heal. Over and over, just because Bellatrix or Voldemort had wanted something.
Bellatrix had taught him Occlumency, but it was a difficult skill to master. He had to study all day without rest. Every few weeks, Bella or Voldemort would test him. Thanks to his talent, he had learned fairly quickly and well. Of course, when attending school, he still had to use Occlumency.
Most Slytherin students had been marked and were now followers of Voldemort. The sixth and seventh-year students were all Death Eaters, and even those who had graduated (or dropped out) had joined long before. Some joined willingly, but most were forced by their families. Some of them Draco had never seen before, but they were part of Voldemort’s ranks.
She still had that cold, disdainful look, just like when he had first met her on the train. Even though the Weasley girl next to her was laughing and talking, she only smiled for the sake of it. She was so fake.