Chapter 14
Hermione wasn’t sure where to go to meet with Andromeda Tonks. She paced up and down the blue sitting room for minutes after she forced everyone to get their heads on straight. Malfoy refused to budge from his spot on the couch. Merely undoing his superfluous restraints and reaching for a cup of tea while Hermione wore down the floorboards.
While I loved watching the powerful moment of putting Weasley in his place and seeing you in charge for once, I think we should talk for a moment. Malfoy’s voice was soothing, not the same aristocratic voice from their disastrous meeting, not even the same light teasing she had grown used to when it was just them before the meeting. Hermione elected to ignore him for now, focused on finding his friend.
When she passed by him on her next lap, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to sit next to him. She landed with a hmphf but did not move to get up. Leaning her head on the back of the couch, she wondered how to juggle the amount of people she was pulling into her unofficial command.
“I’m an academic, not a commander,” Hermione whispered, not taking her eyes off the elegant ceiling. “I’m just barely an adult, and yet my worries about attending university or pursing a mastery in transfiguration have been replaced by how I am going to pull us through this war in one piece.”
Malfoy shifted so he was mirroring her position. They weren’t touching, but their bodies were close enough that her magic reached out and enveloped his. “I won’t pretend to have some hard won wisdom for you because I don’t have any. This entire situation is shit, and it’s the fault of Dumbledore.”
“I wouldn’t say it was Dumbledore’s fault.”
“It is. If he had ensured the Dark Lord was dead the first time, there wouldn’t be a second time.” His voice was hard, unforgiving. “The oaf was so concerned with that blasted prophecy that he didn’t consider how far the Dark Lord would go to remain in power. He always saw the good in people, even when they repeatedly showed there is nothing good inside them."
She supposed he had a point. Looking back, Dumbledore always took himself out of the picture whenever danger was around. In first year, it was a hoax that brought him away from the school, but wouldn’t someone with access to the Ministry know what is official and what is not? Second year, she wasn’t quite sure what caused Dumbledore’s absence that led to Harry and Ron disappearing into the Chamber of Secrets. Third year he allowed herself and Harry to risk their necks to save a man who should’ve been saved twelve years prior. Dumbledore was willing to let an innocent man wither away, no second chances allowed, not even a trial or shred of physical proof to justify his imprisonment.
Did you kill him? She had to know. Hermione had let it go for long enough, but the mixture of disappointment and anger towards the former Headmaster of Hogwarts roared for some kind of appeasement that he got what he deserved.
“I did.” He answered aloud. The two syllables hung between them.
“Why?”
He threatened to give them the key to ending Dark Lord’s reign. She turned her head to look at him. His face was hard, jaw set and throat swallowing down whatever he wanted to say. Her puzzlement must have be palpable because he turned his face to her. Inches separated them. He threatened to give them you.
The words rang in her head. Dumbledore was going to give her over to the Death Eaters? First he was going to give her to Malfoy, and then when that didn’t work, the Death Eaters?
Whatever love she held for the dead man was shriveled and withered. He wasn’t any better than the sniveling form of Peter Pettigrew when faced with the consequence of his betrayal of the Potters: manipulating his way towards his ultimate goal, survival.
“Thank you.” The words were a breath passed between them. The picture they painted could’ve been called the lovers: draped across a Victorian sofa, eyes locked, conversation halted.
He brought his right hand across himself to rest on her cheek. I meant what I said to Weasley. If you are harmed, I will not hesitate to deliver justice.
Hermione wanted to ask him what this was; why their magic was intertwined; what it meant for them. She wanted to ask him how he managed to say not a single thing to her last year while being a silent observer, supporter. She had to know if what she saw when she was in his mind a few weeks ago was true because right here, with him so near, she believed it all without a second thought.
But she wouldn’t get the chance to ask them. Her mediocre occlumency walls shot up at the knock on the door. In a swift motion, she moved from the couch, leaving Malfoy’s hand to linger in the space, and went to open the door.
Harry stood there, eyes expectant and hopeful. “Hey, I was thinking about how you could get in touch with Andromeda to bring Nott over.”
All thoughts of what if and I need to know left Hermione’s head, replaced by strategy and war. “Uh, yes, I was actually talking to Malfoy about it a second ago.” She gestured for Harry to sit somewhere, like this was her house and she was directing an old friend to have tea in another world.
“So, we used Kreacher to get intel on the thief, what if we used him or Minty to contact Andromeda and they can bring him here? No need for you to go off in search of them and it would only take two minutes.”
Malfoy nodded. “Excellent idea. Maybe this war won’t fall directly on Granger’s smarts. Minty?” Harry shot her a sardonic look then smiled to the little elf who appeared when Malfoy called. “Would you mind going to get a friend? He’s staying with my Aunt Andromeda; his name is Theo.”
“Oh, Minty would be honored to help the young master and mistress,” she bowed and gave Hermione a soft smile. “Minty will be back soon! Don’t forget to eat the tea cakes. Minty knows how Miss Granger loves them.”
In the silence of her departure, Hermione turned to Malfoy. “How does Minty know I like tea cakes?”
Harry seemed hung up on something else. “Did she refer to you as ‘mistress’?”
The two friends held each other’s stare for a moment before looking away in embarrassment.
Yes, that was what I was meaning to talk to you about, Malfoy said to her. I think our magic is stronger when we are in regular contact with each other. Ever since you were here last, Minty has been referring to you as Mistress.
Hermione sat herself on the arm chair next to Harry’s. “Oh, don’t start, Malfoy. There’s no way that’s possible.”
Her black-haired friend heaved a sigh. “Look, I get that I have only known about this situation for like…" he did some quick maths "twenty-four hours, but it’s so strange how you’re able to communicate.”
Before either Malfoy or Hermione could chime in, a pop echoed in the corner, and a different voice entered the conversation. “Oh, believe me, Potter, it was harder to witness when it was one sided, and Draco would laugh to himself over a random comment from her in the middle of Charms.”
Malfoy jumped from his place on the couch and tackled his friend in a hug. Nott seemed more than happy to reciprocate the gesture. The intimacy of the moment reminded Hermione of the times she would see Harry after his time with the Dursleys: relief and love overflowing her until she would jump into his arms. She turned to look at Harry, who seemed to be remembering the times that they, too, painted a picture of comradery and love.
When the two pulled away, Hermione stood and made her way to the door. “I am going to grab Ginny and Ron. Now that phase ten of the plan has been successful.”
As she turned to the hallway, she heard Harry say “what was phase one?”
It was supposed to be attending a wedding and then leaving without much fanfare, but due to unforeseen circumstances interrupting said wedding, we had to move on to phase one of plan D, she thought to Malfoy, hoping he would pass the message.
She found Ginny in the room that was supposed to be hers, or at least she thought so based on the tour of the safehouse she had from Malfoy. Hermione knocked on the wood door. “Hey, Minty returned from getting Nott. Where’s Ron?”
Ginny was facing the window next to the bed, staring at something. Hermione had yet to figure out where this house was located, so she joined her red-haired friend at the window. In the distance, there were snowcapped mountains. A river flowed from one and ran along the tree line, disappearing before it could reach the cabin. Given that it was late August in Britain, Hermione assumed they were somewhere colder. While the scene was beautiful, the lone figure standing on the edge of the property line was most concerning to her. The bright hue of Weasley red stuck out against the dense, white forest.
“He didn’t even wait for Minty to show us to the rooms,” Ginny started. “He just asked whether he was allowed outside, and then he disappeared. He’s been standing out there the whole time.”
A prick of guilt entered Hermione’s heart. She had meant a lot of what she said to Ron the last few weeks. He needed to reconfigure his priorities if he wanted to be of any assistance to them. Sure, he was decent with a wand and Harry’s best friend, but Malfoy was right. You don’t win wars with the power of friendship.
“Everything is so unfair.” Her voice was hoarse. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that. This is a hard transition for all of us; I need him to understand that this is war.”
The younger girl turned to her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at her. Hermione and Ginny were not much different in height, but Ginny had an inch on Hermione’s five foot five. “Listen to me: my brother was coddled. They all were. Yes, Bill and Charlie grew up to be decent, and despite having his head up the Ministry’s ass the last few years, Percy isn’t half bad either. But my parents coddled Ron and me because, to them, there was no danger lurking outside our windows anymore.
“The same goes for Malfoy and his merry band of snakes. They were coddled and rich and nothing in the world could touch them because they were children like us. But it’s different now. It has been since Harry and you entered the Wizarding World. You-Know-Who came back after years of shaky peace and prosperity. The unspeakable came back during the Triwizard Tournament, and all my parents did was hold on tighter.” She took a deep breath. “Hermione, you have always fought for what was right. You have risked your reputation in this world to fight for the rights of elves and hippogriffs, and centaurs, and creatures everyone deems lesser. You came into this world with the bad things out in the open and recognized the danger before anyone else did. You recognized the danger and then took precautions to ensure the damage was minimal. You have been preparing to go on the run since your fourth year. Ron and the rest of the Wizarding World? They took longer to notice, and it’s causing emotions to run high.”
Hermione threw her arms around Ginny, needing to be held by someone. She needed the younger girl to be done, but Ginny had more to say. “Ron has always been sulky when it comes to being told he’s wrong. But he always came around. Give him another chance. Harry needs him.”
Potter doesn’t need Weasley, Granger. Malfoy’s ability to get in her head and say things that countered the point was frustrating. And it dampened her spirit because she was getting used to whatever was happening. Potter needs all of you, which now includes me and Theo since he’s made it quite clear that Minty rescuing him on our behalf means we are sticking together till the end.
The girls parted from their hug, and Hermione suppressed an eye roll at Malfoy’s bitter tone. Being stuck with us is not that bad. Just think you could be in your Manor all by yourself until this war ends.
She grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her to the hall. “Come on, let’s go get Ron.”
When the six gathered in the blue sitting room once more, the tensions were higher. Ron took the window seat with his arms crossed. Harry remained on the arm chair across from the couch; Ginny in the one next to him for support in both boys. Malfoy had pulled Nott onto the couch, leaving Hermione to stand by the door.
No one said a word for five minutes.
“Oh, I did have something for you all,” Nott said, leaning forward on the couch to pull a box out of his robes. He opened it up and placed something on the table. “Courtesy of the Weasley Twins.”
Ron turned to stare at him. “You’ve seen my brothers?”
The Slytherin Seer shook his head. “No, but I have spoken with Tonks who gave this to me. It’s something called a radio? Said the twins did some spells on it and it works for those on the run needing to get in contact with their loved ones.”
He pulled his wand out and tapped the side, top, and other side then went in the opposite direction. After a moment, the radio started speaking. “Welcome back to the PW station. Morge and Head here with this week’s listings…”
Nott lowered the volume, then explained some more. “Tonks said they are giving these to everyone on the run they come across so that they don’t feel so alone. They called it Potter Watch, and the password changes each week. I assume it’s the twins speaking, but they always have a list of causalities and those on the run.”
Ginny huffed a laugh. “Brilliant.”
Her brother seemed to agree because for the first time since the wedding, Ron smiled.
Hermione felt the ghost of a smile across her face. She moved to perch on Harry’s armrest while she listened to the low volume of Fred and George Weasley’s disguised voices. All she could do was mouth ‘thank you’ at their newcomer.
“So, who’s in charge here?” Nott said, throwing his arms across the backside of the couch. Malfoy shifted and looked at Hermione with an annoyed expression at having his space intruded upon but that still held love for his friend. “I would assume it’s Potter considering the amount of chaos that follows your every move and the fact that there’s a deranged madman after you. But who knows, maybe the reds have a monopoly on this adventure.”
“Theo,” Malfoy grumbled with a shake of his head.
“We really don’t have a hierarchy or chain of command,” Harry said, leaning forward. “But we all have our roles we have taken up over the years. Well, I guess just me, Ron, and Hermione.”
“Alright, so Weasley’s the brawn. Potter, you’re the brave. And Granger, you need no introduction, you’re clearly the brain.” The assessment Nott used to categorize the trio was spot on and a breath of fresh air. Everyone usually leaves Ron’s strengths out of the equation, but, in truth, Ronald Weasley was an extremely capable wizard when he put his mind to it or his friends were in danger. “Now, I love a theme, but trying to come up with three more B words to fit with the trio is not a good idea at the moment, so feel free in your spare time to come up with something.”
The levity and lightness of Theodore Nott threw Hermione’s axis off. This was war, and yet, here was a boy who was keeping track of that fact while also displaying humor. It seemed to Hermione that he was completely comfortable in times of utter upheaval and turmoil. She didn’t know much of the boy; he was always quiet, but the interactions she’s had with him led her to cultivate an image of a boy misunderstood and shoved through a fate he didn’t much want.
Harry laughed at the statement. “Yes, a proper waste of time when yours is right in front of your face.” At Nott’s tilted head, Harry’s face turned serious and he said simply: “Bastard.”
Whatever tension in the room was cut. Ron snorted, chuckles filling the space from his seat at the window. Ginny outright laughed, and Malfoy's permanent smirk was replaced with genuine mirth. Hermione allowed herself a moment to take in this peace between the six of them. Nott’s shoulders bounced up and down with laughter and he choked out “I’ve forgotten that Gryffindors have a sense of humor.”
When the laughter died down, Hermione spoke. “Nott, I know we sent Minty to get you—at your insistence that I be told where you were—but I would like to know what your plan is.”
“Please, we are fighting a war against the very Nott name, call me Theo.” Malfoy rolled his eyes, and Hermione half expected a comment from him in her head. “Let me paint a picture here, Brains: One day I woke up in the usual fashion. I threw the curtains of my Hogwarts bed open, hummed my way through a morning routine, and was on my way up for breakfast when I fainted. There was nothing to warrant such a fainting. I was the picture of health. Draco happened along me and took me to the hospital wing. When I awoke, Madam Pomfrey was asking how I was. Then without any reasoning or previous record, I opened my mouth and gave my first prophecy.”
Ron seemed to piece something together because he spoke. “There’s another prophecy in play? I thought the only one that mattered to You-Know-Who was his own? You’re saying you gave a prophecy that could change the outcome of this war?”
Theo looked to the red-headed boy and nodded. Something seemed to puzzle him, though, as he looked back at Malfoy and Hermione. “How much do they know?”
Malfoy looked up at Hermione. I know Potter and Ginevra know about the whole prophecy thing, but you haven’t told Weasley?
I haven’t. He has been in a mood for a week and I was worried he would leave. She said back, a grim set to her mouth. I think Harry and Ginny know that this might be the final straw for Ron if he finds out there’s another piece he wasn’t told.
Across from her, Malfoy nodded. The silence surrounding them was palpable. Ron was watching Malfoy and Hermione closely. She assumed Harry and Ginny were waiting for a signal or anything to know what to say next. Harry took the bait.
“What do you mean? How much do we know of what?”
Theo was a smart wizard, and he did not press the strain in Harry’s voice, but Hermione knew that Harry would be having a conversation with her later on about honesty in this mission from now on. The Slytherin clapped his hands together and continued on. “Yes, I gave a prophecy. Then four days later, Hermione Granger is sent to St. Mungo’s after receiving a curse from Antonin Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries. My father, along with Draco’s and others Death Eaters, were sent to Azkaban for breaking into the Ministry, supporting You-Know-Who, and the use of Unforgivable Curses on underage wizards and witches--thanks for that , by the way. Eight days from the Prophecy date, Draco Malfoy nearly dies as he becomes the youngest Death Eater to date.
“I went into hiding after the death of Albus Dumbledore at the request of Narcissa because my father was getting released. She didn’t want me subjected to the fate of her son.” He glared at Draco. “As far as I know, the prophecy was given and recorded at the Ministry like they all are. The consequences of it are known to me, and I assume Granger.”
Ron turned his attention on her. “So, you know more than you told us, don’t you?”
She stood up from her perch on Harry’s armchair and started pacing. Malfoy moved his legs to accommodate her pace. Ron noted the movement. “What are the consequences of the prophecy, Hermione? In fact, please tell us the actual prophecy as I assume you received it when we were fighting for our lives in the Department of Mysteries.”
Hermione paused her pace as Malfoy stood up. “If you’d like to know the prophecy, all you have to do is ask, but do not get pissy because something was kept from you. Hermione did not know there was a prophecy in her name until Dumbledore hinted at it the night of his death. If I had it my way, she would never know of it.”
She touched his shoulder lightly. Malfoy’s tenseness eased, as if her touch alone could undo him. He moved to stand behind her. Ron was perched on the edge of his seat while Harry, Ginny, and Theo tried to remain out of the way.
“Ron, I didn’t know of the prophecy when we went down to save Sirius. In fact, I was rather preoccupied with not dying as well or do you forget it was me who was cursed saving you?” He had the decency to look ashamed for a moment. “Dumbledore knew about it and didn’t say a word to me until it was convient for him, not once, but twice. I don’t know the consequences of the prophecy or how they fit into Harry’s prophecy, but I would like for us all to figure it out tonight before we go to sleep or before we leave tomorrow.”
Harry nodded. He stood from the arm chair and sat by Ron. He slung his arm around his friend, and they hung their heads. This picture would have been called brother.
I am going to give them some space. She said to Malfoy, unconsciously leaning into his frame behind her. Could Minty make something comforting? We haven’t eaten in ages it feels.
His hand came to rest slightly on her hip. Of course, I will call her to set up dinner if she isn’t busy at the Manor.
Aloud, she said “I think we should break for dinner. We can talk about it over whatever Minty has prepared.”