Chapter 7
Draco
She stands behind McGonagle and Dumbledore on the teacher's platform with potter at her side, one of the Weasley twins standing at the bottom of it towards the end of the Slytherin table.
Theo sits to my right and aunt Bella to my left. "She sure cleans up nice." I hear aunt Bella mutter and compared to her appearance last night, I'd say Granger looks like a goddess.
But it's not Bella I focus on, but Theo, whose expression has been off since we sat down. I lean into him. "What's wrong?" I whisper lowly and his eyes narrow at whatever has caught his attention. "Look at Granger." I do that enough already. I turn my head anyway and watch her as she listens to whatever bullshit Dumbledore is spewing. The worst part of the past is that that piece of shit is alive and well.
"Notice anything off?" He says finally turning to look at me. "I don't know, that fact that she looks just about ready to rip off Dumbledore's head?" I scoff. The words are true, she stands stiffly, her jaw and fists clenched, her arms crossed over her chest. If looks could kill. "Exactly."
I once again scoff at him. "Maybe she finally figured out how much of a manipulative ass he is." I say rolling my eyes at him. Honestly, wasting my blood time on—
"Oh come on, you really think the brightest witch of the age couldn't figure that out before? She always knew that, she just doesn't care enough to hide that she knows anymore, she's given up and there is only one thing that could make Hermione Granger give up. She lost her will to live, and there is only one thing that could cause that." He once again takes a second to look at me.
He nods over to the bottom of the platform. "What do you see?" An idiot of a friend sitting beside me. "George Weasley standing by himself waiting for Granger." He nods grimly. "And when have you ever seen one twin without the other?" No. "Hermione Granger has given up on life because her best friend lost his." No, no, no.
"Fred Weasley is dead."
Hermione
I listen to Dumbledore and McGonagle as they tell us the new rules to be implemented and how they plan to make this all work. "Now I Believe it is time to read the list of the deceased." Dumbledore says and it's at this moment that I decided to block him out. Occlude, occlude, occlude.
I go to my mental library and search the stacks until I find an empty book, nothing in it but blank pages. I take the tears I'd shed, the things I'd broke, the curses I'd yelled, I take all the pain of Fred's death and I let them fall into the book before I place it beside the book of Professor Snapes.
My mind itches to open said book, to let the anger and pain fill me until the brink, to use it as fuel for my magic until it crackles at my fingertips, but I push it aside. Calm, collected, cool. I let the fire of my anger fade and it's replaced by the cold of my indifference.
"Students, current and future," he smiles, that sparkle in his eye glinting oh so knowingly. I know what you are this time around. My mind yells at him. I won't let you win. "I know this is very confusing for many of you but we must adjust as I know we can, until our own Miss Granger can find a solution." Anger. Occlude, occlude, occlude.
He claps his hands together. "And adjust we will. So as I said before whatever house you were in during your stay at Hogwarts is the house you are in now, you will be required to take part in classes unless you have already finished school in your time. You are under our care until you are returned to your rightful time, and you will need to follow our rules accordingly. And to make sure you do so we will be doubling the number of both the prefects and Heads." There is a bit of talk about that but mostly from the 70's kids.
Dumbledore clears his throat and his smile fades. "And now, on a less cheerful note. I will be taking the time to read to you the list of the deceased." The hall goes quiet and I will my mind to do the same as he pulls out a scroll that I wish was shorter. "From Slytherin, millicent Bullstrude, and Vincent Crabbe...."
My mind races a million miles a minute trying to prepare myself for the two words, building my mental shields with a shaky hand, brick by brick. Sadness. Occlude, occlude, occlude. I chant it in my mind, I will myself to stay strong, but in the end it doesn't matter because I feel the tear that leaves my eye upon hearing the name. "Fred Weasley." I close my eyes. Emptiness. I'm okay.
Harry gives me his hand but I don't take it. I can't. All I can do is wait until Dumbledore's lips stop moving, wait for his voice to stop haunting me. I'm afraid it never will. "That will be all for now, please eat rest and we will get your schedules to you as soon as possible." As soon as the words leave his mouth I'm getting off the platform and grabbing my bag from George who is quick to follow behind me.
Occlude, occlude, occlude.
Regulus
The girl from last night stands at the front of the room to the side of the professors, by her side is potters son. My eyes haven't left her since the moment she walked in the great hall.
I try to decipher the girl with no luck. She's angry. That much is certain, but at what, at whom? Is it anger or is it grief? Is it sadness or is in annoyance? I don't know. Her jaw is clenched along with her fists, as Dumbledore talks, her gaze foggy like she's not really there. She's occluding. My mind guesses but I quickly dismiss the notion, no sixteen year old outside of the sacred twenty eight could master occlemency.
Dumbledore starts reading the list of the dead and I don't really pay much attention except to here a familiar last name every now and again. I watch the girl as Dumbledore stutters for a moment, pausing to glance at her, the gaze showing emotions I've never seen the man yield.
The man has looked at me like a pawn, has given me looks of utter disappointment, even those of complete manipulation, but none of it compares to the look he sends this girl. It is a look of pure and unconditional evil, like he dwells in her pain and wants to bask in her misery. Like he hopes his words will kill her. That is the look her gives her as he says the name, "Fred Weasley." And for a moment I think it does.
What have you done? Are you more of a snake then you lead on? I silently ask the girl as I watch her she's a single tear as the name is uttered before her wall goes back up—no matter how hard it looks for her to do so.
Dumbledore continues to talk about some useless bullshit or another but my eyes don't leave her. The need to comfort her is scary, but even more so is the need to avenge her. To find whatever it is that made her eyes water and make it fall. The weirdest part is I don't know her, beyond the vague feeling of familiarity, I don't know this girl, and yet my magic seeks hers like it's my own.
I continue to watch her until she is up and off the stage speed walking out of the room, a redhead following behind her. And with her gone all I can think about,
Is how much I want to follow.
Draco
We finally all get finished in the great hall and head back to the dungeons for the rest of the day. It's well into the night when Pans comes up to see me. All the others have gone down to the common room for drinks but I stayed in my dorm.
She doesn't bother knocking but then again she never did. "Hey." She says as she makes her way into the room. I look down at my hands in my lap. "Hey Pans." I'm sitting in my bed, dressed in a tee shirt and sweatpants I borrowed from one of the lestrange boys—hell if I know which one.
She sits down on the foot of the bed, crossing her legs and resting her head on her two hands. "Your thinking about her aren't you?" She asks with a grin and I give her a small smile back. "I'm always thinking about her." Even when I shouldn't be.
She must read it on my face because she immediately scoots closer and takes my hand. "Come on, talk to big sister Pansy." I scoff but smile either way. "We just got out of a war, she lost her brother and probably a million others, and all I can think about is pulling her away from everyone and keeping her at my side."
I look up at her and clutch her hand tighter, my voice getting lower as I ask quietly, "Does that make me a horrible person?" She smiles one of her rare kind loving smiles. "That doesn't make you Horrible." She returns my tight grip.
"It makes you human."
1655 words
Hey folks!!! Another chapter, this one was kind of all over the place but...anyway just want to thank you all for reading and for all the support on TikTok.