Foul, Loathsome, Evil....
Draco finally corners her before lunch on Friday.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he accuses, glancing over his shoulder to be certain none of his little followers are nearby.
Hermione resists the urge to laugh.
“I haven’t been ignoring you, Draco,” she replies.
He has been ignoring her. In every lesson and at every meal he barely glances in her direction.
“I thought you didn’t want to be in Slytherin?” He moves on from his hurt quickly.
“You never asked me where I wanted to be placed,” she points out.
He scrunches his face up in that annoying manner he’d learned from watching his father.
Hermione glances down the hall and wishes that they were somewhere closer to the normal paths of students.
May as well get this over with though.
“Besides, I didn’t pick Slytherin. The hat did.”
Draco huffs.
“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me? You don’t want to be in the same house as me?” He asks.
This time Hermione can’t hold in the laugh.
“You haven’t exactly been speaking to me either. In fact, you seem to have found plenty of friends you can bore with stories of your favourite Quidditch players.”
It isn’t very nice but it does make Hermione feel a bit better. Draco was being a prat.
“Better than that tosser Potter and the unwanted Nott heir,” he sticks his chin up in the air. Case in point.
“Oh, is he a tosser now? I thought he was the most amazing boy in the whole wide wizarding world!” Hermione snaps, beyond frustrated.
She had known everything would change when they started school but she hadn’t anticipated Draco becoming a bigger idiot.
Draco’s jaw falls open and then his whole face morphs into anger.
“I hate you, Mudblood! Leave me alone,” he shouts, turning and stomping away down the hall.
Hermione jinxes his laces together and laughs when he trips over them.
Then she blinks away to her room for a brief tantrum. Of course, she is stopped from lying on her bed in a mood when she finds a note on her pillow.
She’s been summoned home for the weekend.
Hermione nearly ignores the note. Afterall, it could have blown onto the floor given how draughty the dungeons are. Or a house elf might have thrown it out, assuming it was a piece of rubbish. Or a bloody niffler might have carried it off, smelling Malfoy gold even in small traces on a summons.
Instead of ignoring it, she just puts it off. She doesn’t apparate back to Malfoy Manor until after supper, enjoying every bite of her raspberry sherbert.
After they are finished eating, Hermione tells Theo and Harry that she isn’t feeling well and excuses herself from what she was sure would have been a badly executed game of wizard’s chess. She’d refused to play Harry until he got a few more lessons from Theo.
Hermione stops off briefly in her room to change out of her school robes, refusing to appear before Lucius as a school girl in need of instruction.
She takes in her reflection, brushing a curl behind her ear and straightening her robes.
Then she makes the jump to Malfoy Manor, landing in the foyer and setting off a pointless caterwauling charm. Anyone who makes it past the gate, let alone the front door would be dead by the time the irksome alarm was set off.
Quickly, she silences the hall and winds her way towards the dining room.
Narcissa and Lucius are alone tonight, the table set for just two.
It is almost a sad sight. Except of course for the thousand galleon wine they are drinking from silver goblets.
“You’re late,” Lucius snips.
“There was no time written on my summons,” she replies, transfiguring a chair from Narcissa’s dessert fork.
It isn’t as if the witch has any actual use for it.
Sitting down, she waits for one of them to address her sorting.
Narcissa just carries on drinking primly from her cup.
Lucius slices at what Hermione assumes is roast, though he’s butchered it quite badly already.
“I believe I made myself quite clear in regards to your house,” Lucius says finally, setting down his fork and knife.
“And I believe that you should have spoken to the ratty old hat if you wanted to have any influence over where I was sorted.”
His jaw clenches.
“Nothing to be done about it now,” Narcissa quips, finishing her wine and promptly snapping for an elf to refill it.
“You have tainted the proud house of the Dark Lord with your dirty blood. You dishonour him.”
Whoops, Hermione supposes she will just have to apologise when she next sees him. Right after she brings him back from the brink of death.
Not to mention Riddle’s own family history. Hermione just ignores Lucius.
“Why have you requested my presence?” She asks, hoping that perhaps it will be an easy task and she will be able to spend the rest of her first weekend at Hogwarts with her friends.
“It has come to my attention that there is an important item- hidden in the castle.”
Hermione thinks immediately of the article Harry had read to her. Something stolen from Gringotts.
She also thinks of the warning not to go to the third floor corridor.
“What is it?” Hermione asks, not giving her own knowledge away.
“Does it matter? If Dumbledore thinks it is important enough to move from what is supposed to be the most secure bank in the world to right under his nose- it must be powerful. You are going to get it for me.”
She isn’t.
Not only because she doesn’t intend to do anything else for Lucius that doesn’t directly have to do with bringing back Tom, but because she isn’t going to mess with a three headed dog.
She’d seen it almost as soon as she’d stepped off the welcome boats.
“Is that all?” She asks, fine with pretending as though she might do as he bids.
“No. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting with one of the members of the Wizengamot. I’ll require your assistance in persuading him to see reason.”
Hermione rolls her eyes.
“Then I am going to bed.”
Neither Narcissa nor Lucius say anything to stop her.
They hadn’t heard of her outbursts in classes. Severus hadn’t tattled.
Hermione sleeps soundly, knowing she isn’t going anywhere near that three headed dog.
Lucius allows Hermione to return to Hogwarts only a few minutes after his guest leaves, cradling his wrist to his chest. Hermione had merely rearranged some of his phalanges. He’d been very amenable to Lucius after that. Had provided support that would make it easy for things at the Ministry to crumble following Tom’s return.
Hermione meets up with Harry and Theo in time for lunch, both boys talking about how they are going to explore the upper floors of the castle. Hermione smiles, agreeing to join them. It is a fascinating castle, with so many living breathing parts. So many secrets. Riddle wants her to visit the girl’s lavatory on the second floor. She’s decided to avoid it at all costs.
She isn’t ready yet.
Besides, she is having too much fun pretending to be just another eleven year old student to start any nefarious plans. It isn’t as though Tom is on a time limit.
Of course, pretending is exactly what she is doing. A fact that she is reminded of when Draco’s revenge for their little fight yesterday happens in the middle of the Great Hall.
Loudly- obnoxiously so- Draco reveals the one thing his own father had told him not to.
“Salazar Slytherin would be rolling in his grave at having a mudblood in his house. She isn’t fit to be at this school. I told my parents that but they insisted that she come to continue serving me. She’s like my very own house elf. Except of course with worse teeth,” he guffaws.
Hermione nearly kills him right then.
Serving him? Like she would ever do such a thing!
“So it really is true? Your parents brought a muggle orphan into their home? I thought that was all a publicity sham,” Daphne Greengrass replies, sounding scandalised and casting a glance at Hermione.
Herrmione knows this because she can’t stop looking at Draco and his horrid groupies.
“My parents are merely her benefactors. She lives in the east wing, thank Merlin,” Draco says, popping a fizzing whizbee into his mouth.
“Still, to be forced to live with a Mudblood. How awful,” Pansy leans in, exaggerated sympathy on her ratty face.
Hermione pushes away their words, focusing on her plate. She needs to eat. She’ll need her energy if she is going to get past the three-headed dog on her own.
“Perhaps if she weren’t so ugly, it wouldn’t be so hard for me to have her here,” Draco practically shouts, making sure she hears him.
Hermione doesn’t care what he thinks of her. Except she does. She hates herself for it, but she does. And she hates him for it too.
“I’m surprised your mother hasn’t seen to those wretched curls. It looks like she’s got an owl nest atop her head.”
Guffaws permeate her skull like hail against a tin roof. More of the table tuning in to their awful conversation.
She grips her fork tighter, wishing she could stab Pansy in the face. Just once. Or a dozen times.
“Mother tried to help her, but she is savage. Even an entire bottle of sleekeazy couldn’t manage it,” Draco informs his gathering audience.
Hermione snorts, remembering how shiny Draco’s hair had looked after he had actually spilled an entire bottle of the smoothing potion over his platinum locks.
“Perhaps the hair isn’t such a bad thing,” Daphne Greengrass chirps. “At least it distracts from those teeth.” Daphne glances at Draco, seeking his approval. He grins and nods and she beams like she’s won some sort of prize.
She and the rest of the Slytherin first years cackle and Hermione loses control over her magic.
Quickly, before a professor or prefect can intervene, nature explodes. The legs of the table and the benches turn into snaking vines, tightening around the student’s limbs and holding them in place while the enchanted ceiling rains down hail over their heads.
Hermione listens to them shrieking and sets her fork down, trying not to smile too noticeably.
The hall fills with shouting and people stand and move to watch as the snakes are soaked through, thrashing in their bonds.
“Miss Granger,” a deep voice from behind her pulls her from her temporary joy.
Professor Snape.
Hermione closes her eyes and wills the room to return to normal. Still, warm energy flows into her hands and she knows that even nature believes she did the right thing.
“Come with me,” her professor orders.
Hermione stands, taking one last look at her shivering classmates. Harry and Theo are staring at her, eyes wide. She nearly apologises to them but then Harry grins.
“That was wicked!”
Hermione grins back.
The rest of the hall has gone quiet, though there are a few people pointing and whispering.
She flees, following Snape through the halls and down into the dungeons.
He doesn’t say a word until they are both standing in his office, the door clicking shut.
“Unacceptable.”
“I agree. Your students using such foul language in reference to a housemate is unacceptable,” Hermione says, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.
“You lack all control and lash out at the simplest of offences. You must get your magic under control.”
“Or what? Will the Dark Lord kill me when he returns? Will Lucius and Narcissa turn me out if I get expelled? Will they break my wand?”
Yes. Probably. Though that isn’t a problem for her. She doesn’t need a wand. She doesn’t need this school. And she certainly doesn’t need the Malfoys.
“You might hurt someone. Someone who doesn’t deserve it. And collateral damage will destroy you,” Severus says, a watery look in his eye.
She is perfectly aware of the consequences that she may suffer if her magic gets out of hand.
So is Severus.
“Of all of the people in this school who don’t deserve to be hurt, none of those demons top the list.”
“And you do?”
“After Nott and Potter, yes,” Hermione argues.
Severus scoffs.
“Potter? What is he having trouble adjusting to not being waited on and adulated?”
“He hasn’t come to talk with you.” She sighs, exasperated.
She should have known Harry wouldn’t want to tell anyone about his family. He’s supposed to be the Boy Who Lived, a hero.
“What are you talking about, Miss Granger?” Severus asks, handing her a bottle of fly wings.
Perhaps if her emotions weren’t still so raw from what just happened Hermione would have managed to keep her promise to Harry.
“Harry Potter’s family abuses him.”
Hermione should really work on her blurting problem. Normally, she is much more careful about her words, not wanting to give anyone ammunition.
“Miss Granger, that is a very serious accusation,” Severus says, turning to give her full attention, finally.
“I know that. I also know that it is true. I saw it,” she says, angry that he wouldn’t just take her word for it.
Even though he knows she is telling the truth, he looks conflicted. Like he wants to ignore her.
“Physically?”
“Yes. His Uncle mostly. His cousin is a bully but it's his uncle that actually poses a threat. And his aunt says the most awful things to him. They told him that Lily died in a car wreck.”
It is probably unfair of her to use his love for her in such a manner, but she needs to get Harry some help.
“Is he… currently injured?”
She nods, thinking of how slow his movements were in class. How hard he had tried to seem like he was paying attention, all the while cradling his wrist against his hip.
“His wrist. He’s got a handful of other bruises, but his wrist is the only one that needs healing.”
“And why didn’t you heal it?”
“Because I am under strict orders to appear untalented and non threatening. An eleven year old witch shouldn’t be able to heal broken bones without a word nor a wand.”
He nods.
“I will speak to the boy tomorrow.”
“And perhaps you could be nice about it?”
He glares.
“I expect to see you in detention this evening,” he snaps.
She smiles to herself and does as he asks, reminding herself that she is doing the right thing.