Chapter 3
Three days before they were due to leave Sri Lanka, they all sat on the veranda for breakfast, when an exhausted looking owl fell down on the middle of the table. While Hermione fed the poor thing some sausage, Lucius took the letter attached to its right leg.
“It’s from Severus,” he said with a concerned frown.
“What now?” Narcissa took a sip of her tea while looking at her husband. “What can’t wait until we are back?”
He read the letter and looked at his wife, concern in his eyes. “Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban.”
They stared at each other, until Hermione broke the silence, a little embarrassed about being the only one to whom this question seemed relevant. “Who’s Sirius Black?”
“The Potters’ Secret Keeper,” her father explained in a low voice.
“The one who betrayed them and killed their other friend and all these Muggles?”
“He didn’t.” Narcissa’s voice was uncharacteristically heated. “Sirius would have died before betraying James Potter. He was like a brother to him. And Harry is his godson.”
It dawned on Hermione that Narcissa was a born Black. She probably knew Sirius well. “Sorry, I didn’t mean …”
“No.” She shook her head and gave Hermione a very small smile. “You couldn’t have known. Sirius and I were very close growing up. He’s my cousin and the only one from my family I really felt close to, except for my sisters. We could never find any proof for his innocence, but I know he did not betray the Potters, nor did he kill those Muggles or that pathetic excuse for a wizard.”
Sisters? Hermione didn’t want to probe any further, not right now, but she only knew of the one who had died together with her own mother. Maybe she would ask Draco later.
“But how can anyone escape from Azkaban?” Draco asked.
It was her father who answered. “If you had asked me that a few minutes ago, I would have said no one can. Especially after such a long time of being exposed to the Dementors. Usually …”
Before he could potentially go into the horrible effects Dementors had on people in all their gory details, Narcissa got up. “Excuse me.”
She vanished into the house and Lucius, with a pointed look at his friend, followed.
Draco watched them with a worried look on his face, but then seemed to decide that his father surely had the situation under control and turned back to Tom. “You can go on now, we can take it.” He pointed at Hermione and himself.
“Do you always speak for everyone else?” He drawled, leaning back in his chair.
Draco snorted. “No. But your daughter here has better nerves than I do, so if I can take it, so can she.”
“I already know what Dementors do,” Hermione said primly. “They suck all joy and hope from people, it’s like they feed on it, and therefore prisoners don’t even attempt to escape. Many even die within a relatively short time because they basically wither away, become sick and with no will to live eventually succumb.” It was quite barbaric, really.
Her father gave an appreciative nod. “Yes, that was basically what I was going to say. That’s why it is especially remarkable that he didn’t only break out, but did it after 12 years of being there. And now I think we should drop that topic. I believe Lucius would be mad at me, if we are still talking about it when they come back.”
“You think?” Draco asked in a perfect imitation of Lucius’s sarcastic drawl.
The next three days flew by.
Hermione could tell that Narcissa was worried about what was going on at home and with her cousin, but there was no use in trying to organise an earlier Portkey when they were so close to going home anyway.
The morning before their departure, Hermione went on a last walk with her father, just the two of them. Even the snakes had gone off for a last hunt in the forest.
She would miss him and she wished he could come back to Britain.
“Do I have to tell you to stay out of the Sirius Black drama and leave it to Lucius, Narcissa and maybe Severus to worry about?”
She grinned. “It’s not like I’m seeking trouble.” She counted down on her fingers. “I didn’t tell Dumbledore to open my post, I didn’t tell him to interrogate me under what he thought was Veritaserum, and I certainly didn’t ask him to tell me to switch houses. I still don’t understand what that was about by the way.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “He only tried that in your first year, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I see two possible reasons. He either already planned whatever he’s doing with Harry Potter and his friend and wanted someone with a functioning brain in their little group …” She grinned at that. “… or, and this is boring, but in my opinion more likely, he didn’t like it that the two students who earn the most house points are in the same house and it’s not Gryffindor. He knew there was no way Draco would switch houses, because his family has been in Slytherin for generations, but with you, a supposed Muggle-born, he saw a chance.” He shook his head. “You know, considering everything else Dumbledore has done, it’s ridiculous how biased he is towards Gryffindor. I told you I was a Head Boy, didn’t I?”
She nodded.
“We had a certain timeframe to make our rounds in the evening. Once, I was a little late to get back to the common room once, maybe 10 or 15 minutes, nothing big. He caught me on my way back and took 50 points from Slytherin. As many as if I would have been caught out after curfew without a good reason.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Yes, that’s how Dumbledore ticks.” He grew serious. “But house points should be the least of your worries when it comes to him.” Hermione was, in fact, quite concerned with house points. It was her goal to continue Slytherin’s winning spree until her graduation. If that was the only way she could have a small vendetta against Dumbledore, so be it. He stopped walking and looked at her with a wry smile, as if he was guessing her thoughts. “I said ‘the least of your worries’, not ‘make Slytherin lose at all cost’. But I do want you to be careful.”
She nodded. “I will.”
“And keep Draco in line, too.”
She laughed. “That may be harder, but I’ll try.”
“I’m sorry I can’t come with you. But I’m sure Lucius and Narcissa will take good care of you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. Lucius and Narcissa are treating me like family and the Notts are there for me, too.” She paused. “I do wish you could come back with us, though,” she added quietly.
He just looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “I do, too. But you can contact me, if you need or want to. It’s not safe to send me letters from Hogwarts, but I have something else.” She watched curiously as he took a silver etui out of his pocket. It looked like a vintage folding mirror. He opened it and Hermione was surprised that it indeed was a mirror. “Do you know what a two-way mirror is?”
“No.”
“That’s not surprising. They’re very rare because the way the enchantment worked has been lost, so you can only get the few that still exist, if you are willing to pay a lot of money for them.” He smiled at her. “Or you have a lot of time on your hand and figure out how it works to make a pair yourself.”
Hermione grinned. “And I suppose you did the latter.”
“Of course I did.”
“That’s amazing! What does it do?”
“It’s a way to easily communicate with someone. There are two mirrors, this one and the other one stays with me. If you want to contact me, open it and call for me. The mirror gets warm and glows a little when the one with the other one tries to contact you. When we both have the mirror open, we can talk, like on a Muggle phone. Except that you also see the mirror image of the other person.”
He gave it to her and she took it with a bright smile. Maybe she wouldn’t have to miss him quite as much. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Make sure you’re alone or only have your friends around when you use it.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“No, quite the opposite, but you did send the information that you are a Parselmouth per owl.”
Hermione did her best to supress a grin. “I’ll never live that one down, will I?”
“No,” he said simply, then changed the topic, but not before taking out his wand and casually charming her locket so no one else would recognise it. She knew it was necessary, but it still made her a little sad. “The safest place you can use it when you’re back at Hogwarts – and hide it for that matter – is the Room of Requirement. Do you know what that is?”
She didn’t, but she found out now and she just knew Draco and the others would love it.
When they gathered around the Portkey, her father said his goodbyes to his friends and their son and when he turned to her, she hugged him.
To his credit, it only took him a few seconds to wrap his arms around her in return. “Take care, Hermione. And don’t mess with Dumbledore.”
“I won’t.” At least she wouldn’t, if he didn’t mess with her.
She had to let go all too soon and the Portkey transported them back to Wiltshire. When they were all standing in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, Draco looked out of the window and made a face. “Great, I missed the English weather.”
The next day, Hermione and Draco met their other friends at Nott Manor while Lucius, Narcissa and Severus met to discuss Sirius Black. Narcissa was quite set on finding him before the Aurors could.
They had tea with Cassius and Maeve, but then went to Theo’s room, where Hermione told them about the Room of Requirement. They were, as expected, thrilled. And even more so when she told them about the reason her father had told her about it.
She had expected that they would want to see the mirror, so she had brought it.
When she opened it, Draco leaned in immediately. “Tom?” Hermione shot him a half-hearted disapproving look, but she also wanted to see, if it worked.
It took a few seconds, but then the glass took a watery quality and her father’s face appeared.
Before he could say anything, Greg spoke up. “That’s awesome! Do you take orders?”
He chuckled. “Do you know how long it takes to make a pair of two-way mirrors, Gregory?”
“No?”
“A few days for each mirror and then they have to be connected.”
“Alright, but that doesn’t answer his question,” Blaise chimed in.
To the disappointment of everyone, he did not take orders for the time being.
Lucius and Narcissa were not any more successful, since there was absolutely no trace of Sirius Black. Not the real Sirius Black anyway. Mugshots were all over the Daily Prophet every day and when they went to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies, they were to be found on many surfaces all over the place as well.
Hermione found that slightly ridiculous. It wasn’t like Black was going to be stupid enough to walk among Wizarding folks undisguised.
What she was really concerned about, however, was the book they needed to buy for Care for Magical Creatures: The Monster Book of Monsters. A book with brown fur, eyes and teeth. Sharp teeth. When they got home and Draco tried to open it, it almost bit his hand off. As a result, Lucius confiscated both of their books and told them they would get them back when they packed for school. This was fine with Hermione; she much preferred the books in the library that didn’t try to eat her while she read them. So did Noodles, who had slithered up a shelf when Draco’s book got loose and refused to come down until Lucius took them away.
In the evenings, she sometimes talked to her father before going to sleep and like on Sri Lanka, they had long conversations about all kinds of interesting topics. She would miss those late-night conversations when they were back at Hogwarts and she would only be able to talk to him when she went to the Room of Requirements first. She had already decided to leave the mirror there, just to be safe. She also never left Noodles behind in her dorm, but carried him with her everywhere. Her father had shown her a way to make her expanded bags more comfortable for him by recreating a small cave within the bag. On that occasion, he had told her that the Magizoologist Newt Scamander had had a suitcase in which he had created many different habitats for Magical Creatures and Hermione had been thoroughly impressed. Noodles had assured her that he was perfectly happy with his cave, in which he didn’t have to worry about being hit by a book anymore.
The day they returned to Hogwarts started normal enough.
They left for Platform 9¾, then Lucius had to apparate back to the Manor with Draco because he had forgotten something and the two of them arrived just in time for the train.
The train ride was fun, as usual. They ate sweets, joked around, made fun of Weasley. But not too far from their destination, the train suddenly stopped.
“What’s that about?” Vince asked.
All lights went out and since it was already dark outside, no light came through the window either, so it was pitch black in the train, and the temperature seemed to drop.
“Great, after so many years the train finally breaks down. Couldn’t it have waited until we graduate?”, Pansy mumbled from Hermione’s right.
“Lumos,” Draco’s wand lit up and he got up, opened the compartment door and stepped out. He immediately came back in and fell into his seat on Hermione’s left.
A second later, Hermione could see a tall figure moving through the walkway, drawing in rattling breaths. A heavy black cloak concealed its form, a hood its face, and Hermione thought that was good, great, because she didn’t want to see what was under the hood. Her heart was racing when the figure stuck its head into their compartment and drew in another long breath, as if tasting or even savouring something.
Hermione shivered and moved away, leaning against Draco, and suddenly all the fun they’d had only minutes ago seemed so far away and she felt she would never laugh again or be happy. It was so cold she started to shiver and she felt Draco’s hands on her shoulders, drawing her further away from the creature, but it didn’t help, she felt like she was back in the house of the people she had thought were her parents, hiding away in her room, hoping not to draw attention to herself. All the fear and loneliness of her time before she had met her friends, before Lucius and Narcissa had taken her in, before she had known she had a family in the Notts and a father, came crushing down on her. All the good things that had happened to her in the past two years seemed unreal. She was worthless, a freak, unlovable, and that would never change and …
And then it was over.
The creature moved on and the temperature returned to normal. Everyone seemed shaken, pale, scared, and … worried? It wasn’t before Draco drew her into a tight hug that she realised that she was literally shaking and crying. She clung to him for a moment before she managed to calm down. It was ok, she wasn’t a freak, she was a witch, and there were many people who cared about her now. When she let go of her friend and looked up, she felt a little embarrassed. She was the only one among them who had had this strong reaction, but when she looked up, the compartment still only lit by Draco’s wand that had fallen to the ground, she saw that no one was judging her, everyone had worried looks on their faces.
“Are you alright?” Theo asked quietly.
She nodded and when she was trying to wipe the tears away, all boys held out linen handkerchiefs – of course with their initials.
Hermione let out a shaky laugh as she took Draco’s. “I’m ok,” she said after a moment. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“You don’t have to apologise, that thing was bloody scary,” Greg said, although he was the one who had seemingly recovered more quickly than everyone else. He was unpacking his second chocolate frog since the incident. Hermione gave him a grateful smile.
“That was a Dementor,” Draco said darkly. “What is a Dementor doing on the train? Do they think Black takes the train back to Hogwarts?”
“Well, they said he’s probably after Harry Potter,” Daphne said quietly.
“My point still stands. Even if he is after Potter, he’s hardly taking the train to school.”
With another worried glance at Hermione, he picked up his wand, just when the lamps went back on and the train started rolling again.
Vince, who had joined Greg in going back to eating Chocolate Frogs, held one out to her.
While she nibbled on the treat, she was surprised that she indeed felt better after just a few bites.
After getting out of the train, they hurried to get into one of the first carriages in the hopes that they would manage to get to Snape before the Sorting started. They did indeed find him on his way to the Great Hall and all eight of them started talking at once.
Snape endured it with stoic calmness for all of ten seconds. “Quiet.”
They did fall quiet.
“I already know that Dementors were on the train. The Ministry assigned them to protect the castle and Potter until Black is found. I have no idea what the bloody things were doing on the train.”
“But … Dementors are not really under the Ministry’s control, are they? If one of them decides it’s frustrating to wait for someone who may never come here and kiss a student, he’ll just do it, right?”
“Yes, Mr Nott, exactly. Although the Minister would tell you otherwise. Which is why Lucius will be furious, most of the staff already are and Dumbledore claims he can’t do anything.” With that, he turned on his heels and continued his way to the Great Hall where Hermione learned that she wasn’t the only one who had had a strong reaction to the Dementor: Harry Potter had apparently fainted.
For a moment Draco looked like he was going to make fun of him, the grin already on his face, but then he seemed to remember that Hermione, too, had had a similarly strong reaction and shut his mouth.
The next day after classes, Hermione went looking for the Room of Requirement.
She found it exactly where her father had told her, paced in front of the wall three times, imagining a room to hang out with her friends or talk to her father in peace, a room where she could hide the two-way mirror and would always be able to find it again.
A door appeared and looking around once more, she slipped into the room.
It was exactly like she had imagined it. It reminded her of her sitting room in the suite of the Manor. There was more than enough space for all eight of them, but it was also comfortable, with sofas, armchairs and a fireplace, to just relax.
She would leave the mirror on the mantlepiece of the fireplace, she decided, so she would easily find it again, and so would her friends, if they ever needed to contact her father.
She just wanted to place the mirror there, but then she sat down in an armchair and opened it instead.
“Father?”
He couldn’t always answer, not when he was in public for example, but after a minute or so, his face did appear in the mirror. “Hello Hermione. I suppose you found the room?”
“Hello!” She smiled. “Yes, it’s great! I can’t wait to experiment around with what it can do.”
“It’s better, if I don’t tell you the things I did with the Room. Is everything alright otherwise?”
“Well, except for the Dementors at school.”
He grew very serious. “Dementors?”
Hermione proceeded to tell him everything, but left out her little breakdown, and it was clear that he didn’t like it. “I want you to bring your friends next time, preferably tomorrow, and I will teach you to summon a Patronus. I’m not sure, if everyone will be able to learn such an advanced spell, but as many as possible should. At the very least, I’m confident that you and Draco will manage.”
She perked up. “Alright,” she said eagerly. “We’ll be here tomorrow at around the same time.” She hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Is it normal that … some people react very differently to Dementors than others?”
There was a pause. “Let me make a guess,” he said eventually. “Your reaction to them was considerably stronger than that of your friends?”
She nodded, wondering how he knew. Did he think her weak?
“That is because Dementors tend to bring up the worst memories a person has ever experienced and the feelings connected to those memories while they feed on your positive emotions. Your worst memories are considerably worse than those of your friends. And just so you know: That does not make you weak.”
She pondered that for a moment, then nodded. It made sense, she guessed. Even if she still didn’t like it. “Thank you.”
~tbc~