Chapter 7
“So… you wanted to speak to me?” Hermione asked, setting her bag down on one of the desks of the empty classroom.
After seeing the hostile attention she’d garnered from just being in Altaire’s vicinity, they’d decided silently that they should talk in a more private place than the open courtyard.
“Luna told me you might seek me out.” Altaire said simply. She perched herself elegantly on Professor Binn’s desk, crossing her legs at the ankles, her hands lightly tracing the edges of the wood.
“She told me Malfoy had a sister. It took me by surprise.” Hermione responded, also taking a seat across from Altaire.
“People say we don’t look much alike.”
“You were also not at the sorting ceremony.”
“I transferred from Durmstrang this year.” Altaire responded, shrugging lightly. “My sorting was private.”
“Why was that, may I ask?” Hermione leaned forward slightly, eager to hear her answer.
“My parents didn’t think the school was a suitable place for me any longer, after the events of last year.” She responded cooly.
“You mean Karkaroff’s death.”
“Among other things.”
“We had a student die here too.” Hermione shuddered inwardly, sadness filling her heart as she remembered Cedric’s empty eyes, his lifeless limp body still tattooed in her brain.
“Are you displeased that I’m here?” Altaire asked bluntly, her tone more bemused than offended.
“No!” Hermione answered quickly, not wanting to shut down the conversation before it had even properly begun. “I… I was just curious. We don’t really get transfers here at Hogwarts.”
“Professor Dumbledore made an exception.”
Her answer took her by surprise. It was no secret that Lucius Malfoy was firmly anti-Dumbledore, his spearheading of the efforts to get the Headmaster sacked during their second year a testament to this. So why would Dumbledore go out of his way to make an exception for his daughter? Nothing was adding up.
“Professor Dumbledore did?”
“Yes.” Altaire responded, casting a bored glance over Professor Binn’s dusty classroom interior. “He wrote a letter to my parents personally inviting me,” she commented blandly, her tone void of Malfoy’s typical arrogant drawl that usually followed any mention of his parents or special treatment he derived from them. “My parents were discussing Beauxbatons before the letter came, so I was quite relieved.”
“You wanted to come to Hogwarts.” Hermione said, her tone more of a statement than a question.
“I missed my brother. And I missed England. I’ve been abroad for some time now. My parents preferred that I stayed overseas.”
Hermione’s mind was racing with questions, but she was wary of coming across too over-bearing and having Altaire end the tete-a-tete, as she had done so curtly in their first meeting.
“You can ask whatever you’d like.” Altaire said calmly, seeming to notice Hermione’s hesitancy. “I was the one who reached out to you first. I expected that you’d have questions. I have some questions for you too. But I’ll wait, till your curiosity is satisfied.”
Hermione let out an awkward cough, giving the other girl a grateful nod.
“You and Malfoy… you’re close?” she asked.
Altaire cocked a brow, giving her expression an air of haughtiness that immediately made Hermione think of a certain blonde git.
“We are siblings.” Altaire’s response was matter of fact, as if Hermione had asked her a senseless question.
“I see… so you know… he’s not my biggest fan.”
Altaire’s lips quirked slightly at Hermione’s admission, her dark eyes glinting.
“He says the same thing about you.”
Hermione let out a loud bark of laughter, making Altaire shoot her a questioning frown.
She covered her mouth, letting out a few coughs to bite back the laughter threatening to spill from her lips.
“Sorry, it’s just… well, I didn’t think he much cared what I thought – he thinks I’m his inferior, just a mudblood.” She spat out the slur in disdain, thinking back to their fight in Third year that had ended up with both her and Ron spending some painful hours in the Infirmary.
“A grave error on his part.” Altaire’s tone was serious, her lips pursed. “He regrets it.”
Hermione let out another incredulous scoff. “I’m not sure I buy that Altaire.” She said with a hard voice. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I know Malfoy. And I know your family. They haven’t kept their views so secret these past years. And in the graveyard last summer… Harry saw him. He was one of the Death Eaters who responded to Voldemort’s call.”
Altaire’s involuntary flinch at the mention of Voldemort’s name did not go unnoticed to Hermione, but she quickly recovered herself, the stoic mask replacing her discomfort, as quickly as she’d betrayed it.
Altaire looked at her thoughtfully, he nails tapping purposefully against the desk under her.
“These are dangerous times.” She finally responded, her voice quieter.
“Thanks, in many ways, to the actions of your father,” was Hermione’s icy response.
Altaire’s cool demeanour did not falter, but Hermione could see her fingers stilling on the desk, before drawing inwards into tight fists.
“These are dangerous times.” Altaire repeated, flashing Hermione a cold stare. “My father is doing what he thinks is best for his family.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, Altaire’s responses beginning to grind on her nerves.
“He could have chosen to stay neutral.” Hermione hissed. “Actively aligning himself with pureblood supremacy values and covertly working for Voldemort isn’t doing what’s best for your family. It’s choosing bigotry, murder. Voldemort wants to wipe out the likes of me, and your father is acting as his loyal servant!” Her voice rose, ringing through the empty classroom.
“Not everyone has the luxury of appearing neutral.” Altaire shrugged nonchalantly, but her tone was tight.
This was an impossible conversation. Hermione could feel her temper rising as she rose from her chair, wanting to bring their discussion to an end. Perhaps Altaire wasn’t as actively hostile as her brother, but it seemed clear that she was just as much of a lost cause.
“Why did you want to speak with me?” she asked hotly, glaring at the still emotionless girl.
Altaire unclenched, running a hand through her long curls. “I’m doing what I think is best for my family.”
“And what’s that?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms.
“Offering my alliance to Potter.”
Hermione gaped down at the girl, still sat across from her, her mind racing at a million miles per second.
“Wha- what?!” she managed to sputter out, leaning back against a desk in surprise.
“I want to offer my alliance to Potter.” Altaire repeated coolly, as if what had just come out of her mouth was anything but absolute insanity.
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Hermione exclaimed, looking at the girl like she was crazed. “You’re a Malfoy! You- your father is a Death Eater! You’re a pureblood, a Sacred Twenty-Eight… I- what?”
“I’m my own person, Hermione Granger.” Altaire responded coldly, her eyes flashing with anger. “My family name is not what defines me, just as your blood status doesn’t define you.”
Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet, still staring at the girl in disbelief.
“And as much as you think you know everything, what you really know barely scratches the surface of what’s going on outside these walls. The kind of dark magic that’s at play here, the magnitude of your enemy… none of you have any idea…” Altaire inhaled sharply, her expression almost ferocious, reflecting the intensity with which she spoke. “You don’t know my father. You don’t know Draco. And most importantly, you don’t know me. What you’ve seen and experienced… it’s barely a snapshot of what’s really at play. You’re all going into this blind and unprepared, like blind mice in an open field, ignorant of the predators waiting to rip you apart. I’m saying I can help. Whether you take that help or not, that’s up to you.”
Hermione studied the girl carefully, but Altaire’s expression gave nothing away, except for the obvious anger she’d managed to provoke by bringing up her motives.
“How do I know that I can trust you?” Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.
She had no intention of trusting this girl from just one cryptic conversation, but she wanted to hear her answer, to see what else Altaire might give away.
“You don’t. And you’d be a fool to, after just one conversation.” Altaire responded, levelling her glare. “But I think you’ll soon find that you’ll need more than just your merry band of lions to beat a wizard that has been planning the world’s downfall since before you were even born.”
“You’re younger than me.” Hermione responded, blushing at her own childish tone.
Altaire threw her an all-too familiar sneer, pushing herself off the desk briskly. “I know things. Things your precious Order would give an arm and a leg to get information on. Things that not even your best-hidden spies could ever dream of finding out.” She stalked forwards, stopping just an inch away from Hermione. “Ever wonder how the Dark Lord has maintained his immortality? How he’s remained indestructible in the face of death?”
Hermione held her breath, the shock of Altaire’s questions reeling in her mind. Her eyes were transfixed on Altaire’s dark gaze, she herself, at a complete loss for words.
The other girl smirked haughtily at her, brushing past her and nudging her shoulder in the process. “I’ll give you time to consider my offer, I’m in no rush,” she said as she opened the classroom door. “but think with your brain, not your temper, Granger. Not every ally has to be your friend. Like I told Luna, it’s friends who betray you, not strangers.”
“Wait!” Hermione exclaimed hastily, as Altaire exited. The dark-haired girl turned around, looking expectantly at her.
“If it’s Harry’s alliance that you want… why did you come to me and not him?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
Altaire grinned, showing her teeth. “Only a fool would believe that it’s Potter who dictates your little Golden Trio. And I’m many things, but I’m not a fool. Trust me on that,” she responded, before sweeping out of the class.
Hermione remained in Professor Binn’s classroom for the rest of the lunch break, mulling over the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that were coursing through her. Finally, it was the translucent ghost’s haughty demands as to what she was doing in his room that chased her out of there, her mind still in chaos, as she made her way to Potions.