Chapter 16
All four of them spun round as Altaire stepped daintily through the greenhouse flap. Her tailored uniform fit immaculately around her small frame, hair in a neat ponytail, as usual. She looked completely put together, a picture-perfect image of a pureblood heiress. Only the unruly dark waves and silver fringe curling around her face and shoulders betrayed any sense of difference from the likes of Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson, whose hair were always kept pin straight and methodically symmetrical.
Hermione looked over at the two Slytherins on the other side of the flap door. Malfoy greeted his sister from against the wall, a fond smile softening his hard-set features. Something coiled inside Hermione’s stomach as she watched Altaire walk over to her brother and greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek. He reciprocated with a half-hug, gently smoothing the back of her head in an act of pure affection. It was like watching a stranger. The Malfoy she knew was composed, impenetrable, unreadable. What little emotions he did give away were always that of anger and violence. The tenderness with which he treated his sister was unlike any idea of him that she’d ever held.
At first, it had just been a cold disregard for the arrogant first year. Then, as his bullying behaviour and antagonising actions grew, it had turned to hatred. Since fifth year… she no longer hated him with the same vitriol that her, Harry and Ron used to spit about the Slytherin, but it by no means meant that she had ever harboured any positive feelings or thoughts about the wizard. To Hermione, he was still the spoiled and prejudiced brat whom she would never go out of her way to interact with. The prefect patrols had made avoiding Malfoy altogether an impossible task, but they weren’t even cordial. Their interactions were like latent fireworks, ready to set off at any moment. He was rough, aggressive, sly, manipulative… Everything she knew about Malfoy was either that of cold stoicism or raging fire. The Slytherin. The bully. The purist.
But now… nothing had changed. He was still all the things that she had always thought him to be. But he was more. He was an indulgent friend to Nott, allowing himself to be teased and joked with, without any barb or bite back. And he was a protective brother to Altaire… a gentle, loving brother at that. He was… human.
The only sibling relationships Hermione had really been privy to were that of the Weasleys and the Patel sisters. Of course, it was clear they all loved each other, but the Patel sisters bickered tirelessly like doxies on steroids and the Weasleys… well. Even Ginny, the youngest and only girl in a whole brood of seven was never treated with half the gentle touch that Malfoy was exhibiting on Altaire. Their love language was ribbing each other and getting into wrestling matches that would make even a hardened WWE crowd gape in horror.
Seeing this humane, softer side to Malfoy was… well, truly unsettling.
Harry must have been going through a similar motion as herself, watching Malfoy and his sister, as he stood beside Hermione, unabashedly ogling the sight before his eyes, open-mouthed in disbelief.
“Theo.” Altaire stepped towards Nott, giving him a curt nod.
Nott reciprocated with a tight-lipped smile; his whole demeanour suddenly rigid.
Interesting, Hermione thought, as she studied the two’s interaction. Nott towered over the much smaller witch, but in the moment, as Altaire met his eyes, Hermione felt as if she’d never seen the wizard look so small. His cool façade was gone, and his usual relaxed composure was nowhere to be seen. In fact, his whole body seemed tense as he quickly stepped away from Altaire, making room for her to stand beside her brother.
From the way he had talked about Altaire to her and in front of Malfoy, she had assumed the two would be as close as the witch seemed to be with Zabini. But there appeared to be no ease between them, a noticeably strained look passing across Nott’s face as the witch turned away from him to face her brother.
“You didn’t walk out here by yourself, did you?” Malfoy chided, making Harry’s eyes nearly pop out from behind his glasses at the absurdity of Malfoy possibly worrying about someone other than himself.
“Blaise walked me down,” Altaire responded simply, rolling her eyes at Malfoy’s sceptical expression. “Not that he needs to. I don’t need a personal bodyguard. I can take care of myself.”
Hermione noted Nott’s face slacken at the mention of his friend.
“You couldn’t take care of yourself the time you broke your arm.” Malfoy snarked back.
“I was eight.” Altaire hissed, clearly irritated.
“And you still have the scars to show for it.” Malfoy tutted teasingly, flicking at his sister’s right arm as she batted him away with a huff.
Harry and Hermione exchanged incredulous looks.
Who was this and what had he done with Malfoy? Why was he smiling without any malice? Why was he making jokes that didn’t involve putting someone down?
“By the way, Happy Birthday Drakey. 16! Big number.” Altaire smiled slyly as Malfoy scowled.
It was Malfoy’s birthday?
“It’s just a number.” He responded tightly, his eyes suddenly flickering from Altaire to Hermione.
Their eyes met and suddenly, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room again, pressure clenching around her heart.
“It’s just a number.” Malfoy repeated, as if to try and convince himself of its truth.
The room fell silent for a moment as Hermione sat, frozen in his gaze. Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly into the soil, too uncomfortable with being in the presence of his mortal enemy acting human to notice that him and Hermione were once again staring holes through each other’s heads. And Nott’s expression was haunted, unable to stand still as he nervously paced to and from the siblings, as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to stay or go. Only Altaire sat with utter calm, an amused and knowing smile gracing her lips as she watched Hermione from across the greenhouse.
“What are you doing here anyways, Theo?” Altaire finally asked when his pacing began to leave indents in the soil, staring pointedly at her manicured nails.
Hermione broke away first, taking in a small breath that felt like she was breathing in cold fresh air for the first time in years.
Was this an after effect of the Vow?
“I was just leaving.” Nott responded hoarsely as he straightened himself.
“Hm” Altaire hummed with an air of disinterest as Nott made to leave, her legs crossed at her ankles and decidedly turned away from the now-sickly looking wizard. Hermione noticed, however, that both parties flinched instinctively when Nott’s arm brushed Altaire’s as he all but ran out of the door.
Only as the tail of his cloak fluttered past the flap door did Hermione notice Altaire look up, an indecipherable emotion heavy in her dark eyes.
Malfoy looked distinctively unsettled as he bit his lips, looking to and from the door to his sister with a resigned expression.
“This is her then?” Harry finally recovered himself from the shock of Malfoy being human enough to speak, eyeing Altaire suspiciously.
“Harry, this is Altaire Malfoy… Malfoy’s sister. Altaire- Harry.” Hermione replied, blinking away her own incredulity at the weirdness of the evening’s events.
“A pleasure.” Altaire nodded cordially at Harry, who returned her greeting with a frown.
“That’s undecided for now.” Harry ground out.
The tightening of Malfoy’s jaw at Harry’s rudeness did not go unnoticed to Hermione.
He really is protective...
Altaire merely chuckled lightly, a satisfied grin gracing her lovely features.
“I think what I have to say will soon change your mind.” She said breezily.
“Does he have to be here too? I thought the deal was for him to not impede.” Harry spat; his green eyes trained suspiciously on Malfoy.
Malfoy scoffed.
“My proposition involves Draco actually.” Altaire responded, earning her another sardonic eyeroll from her brother. “But yes, less attitude from you Drakey, we’re trying to make friends here.”
“You’re trying to make friends. I’m just here to supervise.” Malfoy shot back, but without any of his familiar bite.
“Get on with it then.” Harry said impatiently.
“Watch your tone, Potter.” Malfoy snarled, this time, his tone all too biting.
“I’ll speak in whatever tone I please, Malfoy.” Harry clipped; his voice began to rise. “I don’t spare niceties on the children of Death Eaters.”
Hermione squeezed Harry’s arm in warning, but the latter shook her off roughly, his temper getting the better of him. “No Hermione, I’m here because you asked, but I never agreed to play nice with the children of Lucius Malfoy. You know what he’s done. I’ll hear her out but I won’t spare them civility.”
Malfoy looked murderous. Altaire, unaffected.
“My father is not what you think he is.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. He was there at the graveyard, doing Voldemort’s bidding. And we know about what he did to Ginny in second year. He was the one who gave Ginny Voldemort’s diary. He nearly killed her!”
Altaire looked back at Harry coolly, her expression unfaltering.
“He made a mistake.” She clipped.
Hermione blinked, her eyes yet again trailing towards Malfoy, who sat in stony silence, his arms crossed, and his body taught, as if he were ready to leap at Harry any second.
Harry scoffed disbelievingly. “You’re telling me he accidentally slipped a piece of dark magic into school?”
“No,” Altaire replied, “He made a mistake in slipping into Ginny Weasley’s cauldron. He meant to slip it into yours.”
Harry and Hermione both stared at the dark-haired witch, their mouths agape.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hermione choked out.
“He was trying to slip the diary into your cauldron, that day in Diagon Alley. But during that little scuffle with the Weasley father, he made a mistake. He thought he was giving it to you… It was an unfortunate mistake, that Ginny Weasley got involved instead.”
“So he almost killed Ginny instead of me. Semantics.” Harry hissed. “He’s still an evil and murderous bastard, that doesn’t change anything.”
Altaire stared back at him blandly, “It changes everything actually.”
“How so?” Harry drawled. The vein in Harry’s temple looked as if it were ready to pop.
“I’m going to tell you both something… as a show of good faith. The rest, I’m afraid will have to wait until you both master how to occlude. For my own safety.” She said simply.
“Wait-“ Harry turned to Hermione, astonished. “You told her I was learning to occlude?”
“What? No, of course not. I haven’t told anyone!” Hermione gasped in a similar state of shock.
“Snape told me.” Altaire interjected, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.
“Well, he had no business-“
“He told me you were a hopeless case. I’m hoping that he’s wrong.”
Harry glowered at her. “He’s a shit teacher.”
Both Malfoy and Altaire chuckled at Harry’s words, a sneer forming on Malfoy’s face.
“Ever thought maybe you’re the shit student, Potter?” he taunted, causing Harry’s face to turn a deep shade of scarlet.
“Like you could do any better.”
“He can actually.” Altaire said in a sing-song voice.
Hermione blinked.
Malfoy was an Occlumens?
“How- when-“ Harry choked as a strangled sound from his throat escaped his mouth.
Malfoy smirked, a smug look on his face. “Some of us actually care about learning more than what’s on Dumbledore’s inane syllabus, Potter. In fact, we’re both Occlumens.” He patted Altaire’s shoulder proudly. “So is Theo.”
Harry’s cheeks blushed a darker shade of red, as Hermione repeatedly opened then closed her mouth like a goldfish out of water, unable to find her voice.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Malfoy taunted. “Some of us are just more magically inclined than others. Sticking to your textbooks can only do you so much. I guess you could say… it all comes down to innate magical ability. A pureblood thing perhaps?”
Anger prickled against Hermione’s skin at Malfoy’s words. That bloody superiority complex. It infuriated her more that she couldn’t find the words to refute him in the moment. After all, he was an Occlumens. She was not.
In the moment, she felt cheated, furious.
Just another thing that made her feel like a lesser witch, just for being a muggle-born student. Her and Malfoy had different starting points in life, in education, in magic. All these years of pouring over textbooks, hyper-focusing in classes, toiling over her homework, repeating spell after spell until she could perfect it… But when it came down to it, yes, she could cast a levitation spell better than others, but how could she really stand to compete with those prejudiced pureblood wizards who gatekept their magic and traditions? Passing down their magical knowledge, their decades of experience… just to their own kind, leaving her with not even a slimmer of hope that she might catch up?
What else did she just simply not know? What more was out there? In the real world? What kinds of magic and skills was she missing out on by relying on Dumbledore and books to teach her? Yes, she was the top student in her year, brightest witch of her age… But that was academics – tests and scores that had no place being applied to in real life situations. If she were to be attacked by Death Eaters, save from a good stunner and an encyclopedic knowledge of the last 7 Goblin Wars that might just bore them to death, how was she supposed to fight against enemies that apparently knew how to read minds and block others from their own?
It was all so… unfair.
“Draco.” Altaire gave Malfoy a placidly chastising stare, at which Malfoy raised his hands in mock defence. “What he means is that he’s a proficient Occlumens.-“
“More than proficient thank you very-”
“-So, he can teach you.”
Altaire looked directly at Hermione as she spoke, her dark eyes bearing into her.
“WHAT?”
Both Harry and Hermione nearly fell out of their seats, ogling the slight girl as if she had grown three- no ten more heads.
“I’m not being taught by HIM!” Harry all-but-shrieked, his finger pointing wildly at the smirking blonde. “I’d rather Snape-“
“Oh good.” Altaire interrupted smoothly. “Your magic isn’t compatible with each other anyways. Snape is a much better fit.”
“Then what-“
Altaire’s lips twitched with a mischievous grin. “I was talking about Hermione. Draco will teach you.”
Harry snorted loudly, masking Hermione’s own choking sound. “That’s likely. Why can’t you teach her? I barely know you but even that’s gotta be a better deal than fucking Malfoy.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed at Harry’s remark, his shoulders tensing, but as he began to spew a colourful assortment of insults back, Altaire swatted her brother on his head, causing him to take a pause from introducing Hermione to curses she’d never even imagined existed, to exclaim loudly in pain.
“Behave, Draco. Honestly, anyone would think you’re the younger one.” She rolled her eyes as Malfoy’s grumbled inaudibly. “I can’t teach Occlumency. I’m a natural Occlumens, I was born with it. I wouldn’t even know where to start with teaching someone else how to do something that comes as naturally to me as blinking.”
Hermione nodded slowly, taking the information in. “But… you’re not?” she asked tentatively, looking nervously towards Malfoy.
“No, but our mother is. She taught me how to perfect the skill before I started Hogwarts.” Addressing her, Malfoy’s tone blank, void of the previous taunting snark and smugness.
Narcissa. Another pureblood Occlumens.
“Why can’t Snape just teach both of us then?” Harry asked hotly, still unrelenting.
Altaire sighed, her patience seeming to grow thin at Harry’s animosity.
Ignoring him, she looked directly at Hermione. “You must have felt it.” She remarked simply.
At Hermione’s confused stare, she sighed again, rolling her neck. “Your magic? It reacts stronger when you’re around Draco, no?”
Hermione’s eyes widened, taken aback by Altaire’s seeming omniscience.
How did she know? Had Malfoy told her? Was he feeling the same weird phenomenon as her?
“Teri-“ Malfoy began in a warning tone.
“What the hell is she talking about?”
“I – uh.” Hermione stammered, looking to and from Harry and Altaire in a startled unnerve. “Maybe a little?” she managed weakly. “I just assumed it was… well, our animosity with each other, making our magic… react….?”
Altaire smirked, “It’s not your feelings that are causing your magic to react like that, although it probably does help. It simply means your magic is compatible with one another. It’s stronger when you’re with one another. Occlumency is an extremely intimate skill. The more compatible your magic, the better chance that you might master it.”
Hermione frowned, not understanding. “I’ve never even heard of people having compatible magic, or someone else’s presence having an impact on the strength of your magic.”
“Didn’t the Dark Lord’s magic become affected by Potter at the graveyard last summer?”
Hermione felt dumbfounded as Harry sat up, his green eyes intense with alarm.
“You’re saying Voldemort and I have compatible magic, and that’s why he couldn’t kill me?” His tone was incredulous, but there was an edge to Harry’s voice.
Altaire blinked blandly. “I’m not saying Hermione and Draco have the same kind of magical relationship as you and the Dark Lord. All I’m underlining is that magical signatures and powers… there’s much more to it than what you’ll ever be able to learn about from books and scrolls. Magic is ancient. It has variables, anomalies, outliers… It can affect each person differently, each family even. I know you take your knowledge from the textbooks of Hogwarts, Hermione, but you can only do so much with trying to make sense of irrational power. Magical theories, equations… they’re only the attempts of our predecessors to try and make sense of why some of us have magic and others don’t. Logic can only try and explain so much. After that? We just have to accept that the world works in mysterious ways.”
Hermione sat stunned.
Harry, likewise, had a dazed look shadow his face, his jaw slack.
“So… Malfoy and I… our magic somehow… intensifies our interactions?” Hermione finally ground out, the wheels in her head working in overtime as she tried to make sense of Altaire’s cryptic words. “That doesn’t make sense. Until this year, it was hardly an issue.”
Malfoy was still sat, stiff, like a charmed ice sculpture, unmelting, frozen, but at Hermione’s words, he looked sharply at Altaire, who gave a short nod with a resigned expression.
“Well, you never spent that much time together before, did you? Regardless, I’m sure you well know that magic is the most unstable for witches and wizards at the age of 16. It’s our… transitional period, shall we say? Kind of like – what is it they call it? Puberty, for muggles. That’s why Apparition is taught and certified at 17. Too many variables with magic as volatile as Apparition, when your own magic is acting out in… all sorts of ways. You’ll eventually learn to control whatever instability is making you both tweak.” She laughed without humour. “In the meantime, Occlumency can only help with easing that volatility you’re feeling.”
Hermione scrunched her nose in frustration. There was too much new information to process. Too much research she needed to rush back to the castle and carry out.
“Okay… I suppose that makes sense. But why me? If what I’ve been experiencing is really just compatible magic… how on earth does it make any sense that Malfoy is at the end of that link?”
Harry nodded in agreement.
It was preposterous. Her and Malfoy? Compatible? In no world, wizarding, muggle, even animal for that matter, could Malfoy and herself come anywhere short of polar opposition.
Malfoy let out a sharp bark of laughter. “It’s our magic that’s compatible, Granger, not us. Do you think this is something I’d have chosen for myself if I could control it? Do you think it pleasures me to know my magic responds to a muggleborn? If any of this cursed nonsense made any sense, Granger, trust me, I’d be the first one to try and find a loophole out of it. But as it happens, there is not. So why don’t you unclench and hear my sister out. That’s what you came to the greenhouse for tonight, isn’t it? I really don’t want to get into it with you about magical theory when I could be doing literally anything else.”
Even though she felt the same and had basically said as much, his rejection of her still somehow left a part of her insides stinging.
“Right. Well ok. I’ll learn Occlumency from Malfoy and Harry will continue his lessons with Snape. Happy? Now tell us whatever it is that you’ve been teasing for the past few weeks. I’ve about had it with your riddles.” Hermione snapped, a little more harshly than she might have done had Malfoy’s insinuations of her being lesser than him gotten to her.
Altaire pursed her lips, a slight sneer forming at the end of her lips at Hermione’s sharp tone.
“Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?”