Yours On The Brink Of Potential Insanity
October 2002
Malfoy,
Your letter arrived on the morning of my birthday. I’d give you the credit and say I’m impressed you pulled that off, but unfortunately, I am entirely aware it was a complete coincidence. Either way, thank you.
Several things have happened since I wrote to you last, both good and bad. I don’t want to worry you, so be assured that everyone is fine, Scorp and your mother included. I spent two days in St Mungo’s, but I’ll get to that shortly.
Blaise told me about the Slug Club thing. Both he and Daphne apologised for the war and their general bigotry, and we all had an open conversation about everything. I hadn’t realised how hard it had been for you all. Your mother hasn’t looked at me the same way since I told everyone about the time I broke into Gringotts and escaped by flying out on the back of a dragon. Sometimes I forget about half the ridiculous things Harry, Ron, and I got up to. Did you know that I accidentally polyjuiced myself as Bulstrode’s cat once? Anyway, off the back of the dinner, Daphne is now visiting Scorp weekly, both at Parkinson House and my own flat. I see what you mean about Callie not liking witches. As soon as Daphne arrived, she bolted for my bedroom and remained under the bed until she left. Callie and I are good friends, though. What I did to be so singled out, I don’t know, but we’ve been getting on well. She’s taken to sleeping at the foot of my bed recently, not sure if that was a thing she did before. Know that my eyes are intact and entirely unharmed, and she hasn’t so much as hissed at me, never mind anything else.
After the dinner, we all decided that we’re perhaps getting too old to only call each other by our surnames. Might I interest you in this development, Draco?
I had a bit of a run in with Ron the other week. I dropped off Scorp with Pansy and your mother, and then was on my way back to Flourish and Blotts when I bumped into him and Susan. He launched into this vicious tirade about me caring for the son of a death eater and parading myself around as a death eater’s whore (not sure how I’m supposed to be your whore when you’re in Azkaban, but he wasn’t really in the mood for discussion). He pulled his wand first, even as Susan was begging him to just leave it, and I was worried that he’d unintentionally harm his unborn child in his rage as he’s always had the worst temper, so I had to pull my own wand. We duelled, he lost (obviously), but he did manage to throw a bench at me which broke apart and a bit caught me in the head, hence the Mungo’s stay. It was a minor injury, but it’s protocol for head injuries to stay in overnight, even though I was completely fine. Harry kept him in the cells in the Ministry for a week, and he’s got to pay to repair all of the damage he caused. I hadn’t thought him capable of that kind of hatred, but I suppose I don’t actually know him anymore. Susan sent me a fruit basket, which I thought was a strange thing to do, but I guess she was just embarrassed. I didn’t eat it, just in case. I’m not being caught off guard by that man a second time.
Please don’t be too annoyed about this, his opinion really isn’t all that common, and he got what he deserved. I’m not made of glass, even if Theo has been fussing over me as though I were. I know you know this already, but I want to make it clear that I don’t think of you as a death eater. I understand why you did what you did, and I have forgiven you a thousand times over. Theo, Pansy, even Blaise and Daphne, are shaping up to be better friends to me than Ron ever was, and I don’t regret a single choice I’ve made. You are also a much better conversationalist. I’m not sure if I can count you as a friend. Are we friends, Draco Malfoy? I’d like us to be.
Scorp and I had a lovely evening with the Potters. I reckon he and Albus might be good friends one day. I’m telling you now so you’ve got time to get used to the idea. I told Ginny what you said about her, and it was a welcome boost to her already large ego. Harry kindly asks that you don’t make any moves on his wife, particularly when she’s so taken with your son. You’ll be pleased to know that Scorpius was sick over Harry during dinner, so if you were looking for further proof of his parentage, there you have it. I thought that would make you proud of him.
You are completely aware that you are a charming person, Malfoy, you don’t need to fish for compliments from me.
Yours sincerely,
Hermione J Granger
Additional note from your bestest friend Theo:
Hello mate,
I’ve intercepted this letter before Hermione has sent it to clarify some things. Blaise and I have since paid the Weasel a visit on your behalf and ensured that he does not come near Hermione ever again, much less throw a fucking bench at her. It was far more serious than she made it sound. You could see her fucking skull, and for about an hour, the healers weren’t sure if she would wake up at all because of potential brain damage. Plus, I had to loiter in the waiting room with no information about how she was for bloody ages because they didn’t believe that she would be friends with the likes of me. It was only once Ginevra turned up that I was allowed to see her. The bloody privilege that comes with the Potter name, honestly. She is, thankfully, ok and has no lasting damage, but she is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met and insisted on coming back to work immediately. She’s going to drive me into an early grave, I swear. Cissa, naturally, was incensed upon hearing what happened to her beloved Hermione. I hope you’ve grown to like this witch because she’s going nowhere. We’re all really quite attached at this point. That includes Calliope, who’s made a sudden reappearance. She was always a superb judge of character, was she not? Perhaps something to mull over, my friend.
Lots of love,
Theodore Nott Jr
***
October 2002
Salazar’s fucking bollocks, Granger, you’re insane. Are you alright? Please answer me honestly, or I might lose my mind. Maybe I’ll hop out of my tiny cell window and come and check for myself. Wait, I’m supposed to call you Hermione now, aren’t I? That’s something friends would do. I’d like to hope we’re friends, seeing as you’re the only person I speak to regularly, aside from the odd letter from Theo or my mother. Frankly, yours are vastly more engaging. Don’t tell Theo that, he’ll only get upset. Please thank him for the additional note he included in your last letter. It brought me an inordinate amount of joy to think of the Weasel King getting exactly what he deserves. You probably don’t approve, but what’s done is done.
It brought me further joy to think of my son chucking up on the Chosen One. I am so very proud of him. Excellent work, Scorp! Inform Potter that he doesn’t need to worry, I won’t be stealing away his wife. I might have a way with the written word, but even I noticed the way Ginevra mooned over him at Hogwarts. Are they still as sickeningly infatuated with each other? Even when he’s covered in the exciting variety of fluids that come out of babies?
You absolutely have to tell me those stories about Gringotts and the polyjuice. With as many details as possible, if you would. Remember that I’m stuck in here, Hermione, and you are my favourite and only form of entertainment. I’ve been deliberately leaving out descriptions of what it’s like, as I don’t think it would be good for either of us if I tried to accurately depict Azkaban. I’m woken up, I eat the tray of what I will generously call ‘food’, and then I sit and reread your letters, imagining that I’m with you out there and not in here for the foreseeable. Then I lie on the bed and try to sleep, but it’s never really attainable. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t want pity from you, I want fun stories about my family and friends and my antisocial cat that you’ve somehow won over. She always used to sleep at the foot of my bed before she ran away.
I’d tell you to take some time off and heal properly, but I know you’ll ignore me. Your brain is the best thing about you, Hermione, you need to look after it.
Perhaps I’m fishing for compliments because they mean more to me when they come from you.
Happy Birthday Scorp.
Yours somewhat morosely,
DLM
***
November 2002
Draco,
I tried to be annoyed with Blaise and Theo, really I did, but it was too hard. Karma came for Ronald Weasley, and it was hilarious. I think the whole thing appeals to my slytherin side, which is growing the more time I spend in the company of snakes. If you were worried about Scorp being sorted into another house, don’t be. Truly, I don’t see how he could end up anywhere else, not with the influences he has around him. Harry, Ginny, and George were all almost slytherins too. Could probably buy him his robes now, if you wanted.
Scorp had a lovely birthday. I made him a cake, and Theo and I went over to see Pansy and your mother. He won’t remember it, obviously, but we will, so I figured it was still worth celebrating. We sort of doubled down on Samhain to make up for his birthday being a little quieter than I imagine it typically would have been in ostentatious pureblood fashion.
Speaking of, we also spent Samhain at Parkinson House, again so your mother could partake in the celebrations. We had a bonfire, a safe distance from Narcissa’s flourishing roses, and George brought some of his fireworks. Theo, ever the showman, hosted a few party games, and Scorp and I made a formidable team, if I do say so myself. What he lacks in substance, he more than makes up in adorableness. Not sure that is actually a word, but you know what I’m trying to say. Pansy and Ginny ended up winning, though. I feel the need to forewarn you and the rest of the world about that budding friendship, it has the potential to ruin us all. Everyone carved a pumpkin (Scorp, Al, and James with a little help) and we placed them trailing up the pathway. I could not believe that most of our friends had never carved a pumpkin before! Honestly, you’ve all been missing out. Harry and I brought everyone up to speed, and Narcissa turned out to be quite the artist. I finally got to try Blaise’s famous pasta, and I completely understand why it is so revered and will now be requesting that he makes it at every single event going forward. James and I made pumpkin muffins for everyone, and by that I mean I made pumpkin muffins and James licked the bowl clean, and we all stayed over to keep the fire going through the night. At dinner, we left you a seat between Scorp and Narcissa. We’re all thinking of you, Draco. I daresay me more than most.
The Gringotts tale is long and complicated, tied in to my misadventures horcrux hunting, so I’ll save that one for another time. The polyjuice one is funnier anyway.
In second year, Harry thought you were the heir of slytherin (I know, I know), and so we thought if we got into your common room, we could spy on you, see what we could find out. I brewed polyjuice in the bathroom under the watchful eye of Myrtle (another one that was awfully fond of you, I remember) and Harry and Ron disguised themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. I was going to be Bulstrode, but the hair I stole from her was actually one from her cat, and so I got to spend a month in the medical wing as a partial feline until it wore off. I used to still feel like I had the tail, even when it wasn’t there. Harry pulled the memory for posterity, so if you’re very nice to me, I’ll let you see it in a pensieve one day.
Harry and Ginny are still fundamentally disgusting to be around, even when one or both are covered in the stuff that comes out of James or Al. What is it that people say - she fell first, he fell harder? They’re very much that. To be honest, they’re not as bad as heart-eyes Zabini. The man does not know how to keep his hands to himself when Daphne is around.
My head is much better. I might have hexed Theo a bit for telling you the honest truth, but don’t be too annoyed with me. I didn’t want to worry you when you couldn’t do anything about it. I found out that the fruit basket thing is actually a Bones family tradition, by the way. Makes one wonder how many people they’ve offended over the years to warrant the way in which they apologise becoming a tradition, but I suppose we all have our quirks.
I’ll leave you with the mental image of me writing this letter with Callie curled up on my lap. She’s really very affectionate, I’m not sure I believe the others when they tell me tales of her viciousness.
I always thought your eyes were a nice colour. There, a compliment to keep your ego alive and well. I’ve started looking for you in rooms recently. Maybe it’s not just you that’s losing their mind.
Yours on the brink of potential insanity,
Hermione J Granger