The Black Lion

The Black Lion 

Chapter 11

Twisting and turning her heir ring on her finger Hermione begins to bite on her lip softly. It seemed when she’s been nervous these last couple of days playing with her ring was the only way she got any sense of comfort. She was trying to ignore the whispers and eyes of the other patrons in the Leaky Cauldron.

‘It’s not like I’ve been hiding from the Wizarding world,’ she lightly jokes to herself, holding in a small laugh.

Sighing softly as she continues to wait for her friend to come and have lunch with her. She looked around the room her eyes would meet someone else's and they would quickly turn away from her as if she didn’t know they were talking about her.

Who wasn’t talking about her? It was no telling what Skeeter and The Daily Prophet had been writing about her. Panic bubbled beneath the surface as she imagined the rumors swirling around her. She bit down harder on her lip, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the butterbeer she had yet to touch. 

As she waited, a tall, pale figure flickered at the edge of her vision. For a brief moment, she thought she saw Malfoy leaning against the wall outside, his expression unreadable. But when she turned fully, he was gone, leaving her feeling strangely unsettled.

Hermione's heart lifted as Neville stepped through the door, a familiar smile lighting up her face.

“Neville.” she exclaims jumping out of her seat into his arms, not caring what others thought about her at that moment.

Catching her Neville chuckles softly, he hugs her tightly giving her one of her signature hugs. 

Pulling away from each other they sit down at the table. As Hermione lifted her butterbeer to her lips, Neville's gaze swept over her. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her wild curls framed her face like a chaotic halo, making her look smaller and more fragile than he remembered. Even though he could tell she was trying to hide it, he could sense that she was almost on the verge of a panic attack before he came.

Neville places his hand on the girl he sees as a big sister hand as her eye roams the room,

“Hermione, you said you needed to talk to me about something?” he asks, trying to get her attention.

Nodding her head at him Hermione smiles slightly, “I don't know how much you’ve heard or how much of what you heard is true.” she begins.

Cutting her off Neville shakes his head. He never was one to believe in lies especially when it came to Hermione. She was the only person to see him for his real worth and didn’t pick on him.

“Sis, you know I would never believe anything they say about you. However, Skeeter and others have started a slander campaign on you. Right now, they are trying to call you the Gryffindor Harlot. It’s all outrageous if you ask me.” he whispers to her not wanting anyone to hear their conversation.

Hermione eyes widened slightly at the news of what she was being called by The Prophet it was the Triwizard Tournament again only worse.

“Nev, why would they call me that? What else are they saying?” she asks him.

Neville sighs and leans back he looks around the room before grabbing his wand and casting Muffliato. 

“How you tell me everything first before we get into lies,” he tells her.

Hermione bites her lip before nodding. She tells him everything that has been happening over the last couple of weeks. Neville never interrupted her story just nodding his head and asking questions when time was needed. Once she was finished she looked at him with a slight panic in her eyes.

Neville nods his head sighing softly, Hermione is in a very difficult place right now.

“Well Hermione, why don't you come over next week and my gran can help you get ready to be introduced into the pureblood society. You’ll need some training but honestly, not much you’ve always been a fast learner.” he tells her.

Hermione nods and stands up to hug him. For once she felt like she wasn’t alone. Neville always made her feel seen and heard.

As they are going in for a hug someone grabs her wrist tightly spinning her around to face them.

Coming face to face with Ron, Hermione yanks her arm slightly trying to get out of his grasp.

“Ron, come on mate let her go.” Neville tells him with a scowl on his face.

Ron ignored Neville and looked at Hermione with a deep scowl on his face.

“So, you wouldn’t date me but you’re on a date with bloody Neville of all people!” Ron yells at her 

Hermione eye burned with fury at Rons audacity to handle her like this and in public.

“I’m not on a date with Neville and even if I was it’s not your bloody business Ron!” she yells back at him. She wouldn’t let him push her around anymore.

Pushing him away from her she looked over his shoulder and saw Harry there not saying anything just watching the scene unfold.

‘Of, course Harry is just letting Ron run rampant and staying silent. ’ she thinks.

Before Ron could grab Hermione by her wrist again someone grabs his arm tightly.

“I think you should leave my daughter and friend alone young lad.” says a deep voice.

Everyone in the Leaky goes silent as they watch the scene unfold in front of them.

Ron turns to the man who stopped him from confronting Hermione. The man was tall with slightly curly black hair he had piercing grey eyes that he was sure he’d seen before. However, Ron has met Hermione parents before and her father did not look like this man at all.

“You’re not her father!” he yells at the man getting red in the face.

Regulus shakes his head at the young man who was harassing his daughter. He guessed the young man could be considered attractive but honestly, his daughter could do better.  Sniffling his nose in disgust as the young man turns red in the face from anger he looks at his daughter before looking back at the Weasley boy.

“Ah yes, you must be the infamous Weasley who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Let me introduce myself properly: I am Regulus Black, and you will address me as Lord Black. That young woman you were just harassing? She happens to be my daughter,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’d do well to remember the consequences of crossing a Black.”

Ron's eyes widen and he looks at Harry who has a spooked look on his face.

Ron’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he stammered, “Your... daughter? Since when is Hermione your daughter?” He shot a bewildered glance at Hermione, looking almost betrayed.

Hermione squared her shoulders, her gaze sharp as she replied, “Since always. He’s my biological father, Ron, and you need to respect that.”

Harry stood silent, visibly uncomfortable but still rooted to the spot. Hermione shot him a disappointed look, her lips pressed into a thin line, before shifting her attention to Regulus.

Ron continued to sputter over his words, “Huh, a harlot and a Black. Seems like I dodged a bullet.”

As Hermione’s mouth dropped open at Ron's harsh words, a slow, cold drawl cut through the stunned silence of the pub.

Draco's voice cut through the tension like a knife, calm yet charged with an undercurrent of danger. 'That's enough, Weasley,' he said, stepping forward with a predatory grace.

Ron whipped around to see Draco standing beside Regulus, his posture rigid and his gaze blazing with icy fury. Hermione’s eyes flickered to Draco, relief momentarily easing the fire of hurt in her expression.

“First,” Draco continued, stepping forward with measured confidence, “You will address Hermione with respect, as befitting my betrothed. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself further, Weasley.”

Ron’s eyes widened, his mouth agape. “Your what?” he managed to sputter, glancing back and forth between Hermione and Draco in disbelief.

Draco’s lip curled in a disdainful smirk. “My betrothed. Yes, Weasley, we’re bound by a marriage contract.” He took a step closer, his voice softening but losing none of its force. “Which means if you can’t treat her with the decency she deserves, you’ll answer to me.”

Ron took a shaky step back, anger and confusion warring in his face. He seemed lost for words, his gaze finally drifting to Harry, who still stood silent and seemingly overwhelmed by the whole scene.

Draco didn’t break eye contact, holding Ron in place with an unflinching gaze. “Hermione’s ties are to families with history and power. I suggest you remember that the next time you consider grabbing her like some common brute. Or your family would be in a blood war with both the Malfoy and Black Family and we all know they couldn’t handle that.”

Regulus placed a supportive hand on Hermione’s shoulder, nodding approvingly at Draco. The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron watched with bated breath, and murmurs of the unexpected showdown echoed through the room.

Ron’s hands curled into fists, but before he could respond.

Neville cleared his throat. “Ron, maybe it’s time to let this go.” His voice was steady, though his eyes flashed with warning. 

Ron grunted softly before spinning on his heel and storming out of the pub with Harry. “He only wants you now because of who your so-called father is! Remember that!” he spat, his voice echoing in the now-silent room.

Hermione stood frozen for a moment, the sting of Ron's words lingering in the air like a bitter aftertaste. But when she looked up at Draco, her heart raced not just from anger but from a profound sense of belonging. She felt a weight lift as Neville offered her a reassuring smile, reminding her she wasn’t alone in this.