Greyline

Dumbledore’s office was hidden away behind a tall dark door in the back of his transfiguration classroom. It was decorated much like his Headmaster’s office in the future, Hermione thought while glancing around at all the odd trinkets that were scattered. Malfoy and she were sitting in a pair of plush golden chairs that were tall enough to fit Hagrid. Her chest tightened at the thought of the half-giant gameskeeper. 

“Lemon drop for your thoughts?” 

She stopped her perusing of the office and met Dumbeldore’s bright blue eyes. He was smiling gently at her, holding out a small glass bowl of the yellow candy. She searched his gaze for a moment, trying to detect any hint of untrust but found his eyes to be clear and kind. She gave him a small smile and shook her head. 

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” She looked away from the older man and over at Malfoy. 

“Thank you, though.” She added absentmindedly. 

Dumbledore gestured with the bowl to Malfoy, who had been sitting silently and watching the professor with an unreadable look. His posture was straight and rigid and he tapped his left pinky finger slowly against the chair. His signet ring made a soft thud every time he did and as she glanced at it with annoyance her heart slowed in cold terror. His Malfoy signet ring. She guessed he didn't even realize he was drawing attention to it, probably some nervous tic he had.  

She tried not to rip her eyes away from it too quickly, glancing slowly up at Dumbledore to see if he had noticed her panic. The Professor was still smiling amicably at Malfoy who had given the slightest shakes of his head to decline the candy. He had probably already seen the ring anyways. If there was one thing Hermione remembered of him, it was how observant and honestly quite sly he had been in the past. The future. 

She breathed out a little too loudly, causing Malfoy to turn and raise a pale brow at her. She shot him a barely there frown before focusing back on Dumbledore, who was patiently looking between them. Studying them. 

Hermione smoothed her hands over the rough denim covering her thighs, her nails catching on a tiny rip. Denim. Just another reason for Dumbledore to speculate where, no when, they had come from. She would have to tell the truth, or most of it. An altered truth, an almost truth. She hoped Malfoy would stay silent and that the timeline would not change too much. 

She took a deep, steadying breath and began.

“You see, Professor, we came here to change the Wizarding World.”

She saw from the corner of her eye Malfoy’s jaw clench and he muttered what sounded like her last name, tilting his head to rest it in his hand while splaying his fingers over his eyes. She ignored him and stared at Dumbledore, willing certain memories to the forefront of her mind. There were things she couldn't discuss in front of Malfoy until she secured an oath from him. 

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he met hers and then suddenly he was with her as she re-lived running through the Department of Ministries in fifth year. This hadn’t been her first choice in memories for him to view but it would do the job. She gripped her leg harshly as her heart sped up and she fought the urge to leap up from her chair and run. Sweat gathered on her hairline and she licked her lips as if dehydrated. 

Dumbledore pulled out of her mind, regarding her with a careful gaze. “Would this be easier if we were to use a pensieve?” 

He turned to gesture towards the right side of the room where a small stone basin emerged from the wall. She glanced at Malfoy who was already looking at her from between his fingers. His face was impassive and cold, but his head moved in an almost imperceptible movement. 

No. 

No, if she used the pensieve she would not be able to control what Dumbledore saw. Malfoy was right. She would just have to put a tremendous amount of mental strength in showing the professor only what she wanted him to see. Hermione did not doubt he would take advantage to look beyond what she was showing him. 

“No… It will be faster to do it this way. I’ll be okay.” She met his stare with a new found vigor. They needed to get to the infirmary as soon as possible anyway. Nott was waiting.

The Professor nodded and she braced herself, willing her body to relax as he entered her mind again. 

Hermione had only shown him snippets from a few integral parts of her life and the world during Voldemort’s coming reign. 

Harry appearing suddenly in front of the maze during the last task of the Tri-Wizard tournament, clutching the champions cup and Cedric Diggory’s dead body. Tears and blood streaming down his face as he screamed. “He’s back.” Again and again. 

The destruction during sixth year at Hogwarts from Death Eaters storming the castle. The bright smoky green symbol of Voldemort’s most loyal floating in the sky above the quidditch pitch. 

Hermione approaching her childhood home, wand drawn and face resolved. Whispering the obliviation spell at her parents as they watched their television. Her face disappearing from all of the photos placed around the house. 

Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Shacklebolt's lynx patronus bounding around the tent, his deep voice replaying the same words. “The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming. They are coming…” The dark shadows of Death Eaters flying into the tent, Hermione gathering Ron and Harry and apparting away. 

The Forest of Dean. Hermione standing in front of a Snatcher, the wards she had placed around camp protecting her from the man. He was sniffing the air, smelling her perfume. She did not dare to breathe. 

Poly-juiced Hermione at the ministry, viewing the Magic is Might statue and the muggles' crushed bodies under it. The black-robed Ministry officials checking ID’s and regulating the floo networks. Her own face on a pinned-up paper that read Undesirable Number 3. Reward for Capture. 

The Time Chamber. Hermione reaching out towards the dying light, Malfoy and Nott attached to her. Falling and crashing through the sky. Waking up at Hogwarts. 

It continued like this for what felt like hours to Hermione, but was probably only a few minutes. Dumbledore would view a memory, withdraw to study her and occasionally Malfoy and then dive back in. It was exhausting and repetitive. She was ready to sleep for an undetermined amount of time by the end of it.

As the last memory faded away Dumbledore stood suddenly and paced behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Hermione clutched at her head, a migraine forming. The dim torches in the room felt too bright. Malfoy was staring at her again but she ignored him, in too much pain to care what he thought of her actions. 

Dumbledore stopped his pacing and moved around the desk quickly coming to stand in front of her with surprising speed. She needed to stop thinking of him as her old headmaster. Malfoy grunted as if he were going to move too but she saw Dumbledore shoot him a stern look before staring down at her. 

“Who is he?” The man looked almost nervous, his hand combing through his long beard frantically. 

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t, won’t, tell you.” 

He stared at her briefly, his blue eyes unusually dark, before looking over her head towards the wall in deep thought.

She wondered why he was acting so anxious and remembered in a snap of his history with Gellert Grindelwald. They hadn’t dueled yet and as such, Dumbledore hadn’t defeated the dark wizard. Of course he would be edgy over the thought of a future with Grindelwald still at large. 

“I - I believe we were brought here for a reason. This is where it starts, changing that future.” She rose from her chair slowly, not wanting to be sitting if Dumbledore wasn’t. 

The man didn’t reply to her or even look away from the wall, so she continued quietly. 

“I can’t tell or show you much more, not without risking a huge timeline change.” She shook her head again, her curls bouncing to cover her shoulders. “But… in the future you trusted me. I need you to trust me now, and to help us.” 

“Here.” She moved into his line of sight slowly and maintained his seemingly vacant gaze. 

Hermione pushed forth a final memory, urging him to view it. His glittering eyes focused and she felt him enter her mind again. 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sitting on one of the burrow’s old couches all crammed together. The Minister of Magic was sitting in front of them, holding out an old and worn book. The man looked at Hermione as he spoke, reading off a piece of parchment floating in the air next to him. “And to Miss. Hermione Jean Granger; Albus Dumbledore leaves his personal copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.” 

Dumbledore left her mind almost as quickly as he had entered it, taking two big steps forward to grasp her by the shoulders. Malfoy was out of his chair in an instant, wand drawn and pointing at the professor. She met his eyes, which were dark with anger. 

She looked up at Dumbledore again, his gaze penetrating hers. Hermione understood, as she searched his eyes, that he wasn’t angry. He was scared. This Dumbledore was afraid to die. And she had just shown him a memory that indicated his death. 

She glanced over his shoulder, to where Malfoy had crept up slowly behind the older man and prodded his wand into the back of his auburn head. 

“Release her, Professor.” Malfoy twisted his wand sharply, his voice low. “Now.” 

Hermione almost laughed as Dumbledore ignored the younger wizard, still looking deep into her eyes. 

“How long?” 

She felt a sad smile grace her face. 

“Years.” She breathed, hoping he caught the meaning as she let a long exhale loose.

He studied her for a moment more, looking for something, before he let go of her gently and turned to face Malfoy slowly. The older wizard raised his arms halfway up and Hermione could hear the slightly derisive tone as he spoke. 

“Now, no harm done, was there Mr. Malfoy?” 

Malfoy’s expression was stony as he glanced over Hermione quickly, no surprise showing on his face as Dumbledore used his name. He lowered his wand and stepped back from the professor, turning slightly to walk around him and stand by her. She wondered where this sudden act of loyalty was coming from. She turned to give him a pointed look but he took no notice of her, eyes narrowed on the older man. 

Perhaps it was more of an obligation instead of loyalty, she mused. Or, Malfoy just had a strong protection drive and since his Death Eater counterpart was not currently in the room she was the next best thing for him. She nearly laughed out loud at the thought of Malfoy protecting Dumbledore, though. 

“Why don’t we all sit back down and discuss your future here at Hogwarts.” It wasn’t a suggestion that left Dumbledore’s lips but more of a command. 

She winced and waited for Malfoy to disregard it completely, feeling the other wizard tense beside her. Hermione spoke before he could say something unwarranted. 

“With all due respect Professor, we need to get to our friend in the infirmary. If we could finish up as soon as possible that would be most ideal.” She countered, neither her or Malfoy taking a seat. 

Dumbledore nodded and settled in at his desk again, ruffling some papers. He summoned a self writing quill and she was reminded of Rita Skeeter as it began to write in accordance with his words. 

“I am assuming there is no time frame on this… mission, or one that I am not privy to. Nonetheless, from what you showed me in your memories Miss. Granger there is a lot you will need to accomplish while here to ensure that future does not happen. Setting you up as students of Hogwarts would be most ideal, yes?” He peered at them over the tops of his glasses. 

She didn’t even look over at Malfoy before nodding. He was stuck going along with everything or she would scream bloody murder and have him detained. As the thought crossed her mind she asked herself if she really would, imagining Malfoy locked away in Azkaban like his father before him. 

No, she needed him. As much faith as Hermione had in her own abilities, being alone here and trying to accomplish a plan she hadn’t even come up with yet would be extremely hard. She didn’t even think her conscience would allow her to lock him up and let him rot here in the past. Not when she could see he had a chance at a different life. Nott, too. 

“Yes. That would be most ideal. We were all supposed to be in our seventh year. That would give us enough time to do… something. We ended up here for a reason.” She smiled at him, cringing internally at her less than concrete choice of words. 

“Indeed.” Dumbledore pursed his lips and looked at Malfoy with a tilt of his head. 

“Although, the two young men that arrived with you and the lack of them in your memories is 

concerning. I believe they are not the ones you were with in most of the scenes you showed me.” The Professor dragged his eyes away from Malfoy slowly to study her. 

She felt herself pale a bit, opening her mouth and closing it like a fish, trying to find the right words to appease the man. Of course he would have noticed her street clothes versus their dark robes, the same ones that matched the ministry officials in her memory. Hermione felt an overwhelming wave of grief at the same moment, reminded that she wasn’t here with Harry and Ron. 

“We defected.” 

She glanced up at Malfoy in surprise that she tried to conceal quickly, caught off guard by his words. He had moved his arms to cross them lightly, in a show of casual indifference or defensiveness she wasn’t sure. She looked back at Dumbledore quickly, gaging his reaction. 

The Professor's lighthearted countenance had vanished, leaving him looking older and more serious. More like Dumbledore from their time. 

 “I see.” 

If the two wizards had been engaged in a battle of the minds, Hermione wouldn’t have known. They stared each other down silently, unblinkingly. After a few tense moments Dumbledore looked away from Malfoy, addressing her again. 

“There will be questions asked, by students and staff alike. Make sure your answers never waver from the cover story I’ve come up with.” He peered at Malfoy again. “You will need to change your last name, Mr. Malfoy. We already have one attending here and I assume that will be a conflict of interest.” 

Hermione watched Malfoy’s face intently. Giving up his namesake, his heritage and his power. He had to be upset. But his face showed nothing, the pale skin smooth and unbothered as he nodded sharply. 

“There are a few pure-blooded names that are distant enough or not currently in use by anyone here that could work. Fawley and Carrow for example.” Dumbledore offered. 

“I believe the best way to explain your sudden appearance here would be an illegal portkey.” He hummed. 

Hermione agreed. There really was not a good answer for how they had ended up here. 

“Let’s say you three were… on the run from Grindelwald’s forces, part of an old and now extinguished individual coven. Fawley and Carrow surnames have been obsolete for years here in Europe, it would not be too far-fetched to say any remaining folk had gone into hiding when Grindelwald arose.” 

Hermione drifted in her thoughts a bit as Dumbledore explained their cover story. She was still listening, but there was so much to think about. Would she keep her own surname? There was the potioneer; Hector Dagworth-Granger. From what she had read about him he had not been seen in years, and she wondered if she could pull off being distantly related. Slughorn asking her in sixth year about the potions master floated through her brain.

She decided she would not rely on the affiliation. It had never been exactly safe for muggle-borns throughout all of wizarding history and Hermione was proud of her heritage, to the point of being overconfident that others would respect her just for being a bright witch. She would need to be less brash about things. 

Maybe she could take a few pointers from Malfoy and Nott about the whole cool and calm facade. 

“Headmaster Dippet will want to sort you into a respective house, so that your education can continue. I will send you off to the infirmary now - if everything is covered. Depending on your friend's health, you may be sorted in the morning.” The quill stopped its writing as Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at them. 

“You may sleep in the infirmary tonight. I am sure Madam Blainey would like to check you both over. Here are instructions on how to get there.” WIth a flourish of his hand a piece of parchment appeared in the air in front of Hermione. 

It did not evade her that Dumbledore gave the map to her. He did not fully trust Malfoy, if at all. It was something she needed to tuck away and remember. The Professor did not have a good track record in treating students -people - fairly if he did not trust them. 

She gave him a wane smile and nodded, grabbing the map. “Thank you, Professor.”

He gestured to the door. “I shall see you in the morning. It is not too far off by now.” 

~~

Hermione whirled on Malfoy the moment they left Dumbledore’s classroom, putting up a muffliato charm as she did. He stared at her in what she considered contempt, his lips pulling into a small frown. 

“What? Badger me when we get to the infirmary.” He brushed past her and kept walking, not even looking at the map they were given. 

She sighed and followed him, glancing down at the piece of parchment in her hand every now and then as they walked. She wished he were always as silent as he was the past few hours. 

“I was just going to say that you didn’t need to protect me back there, with Dumbledore.” She said quietly. “He wouldn’t have hurt me.” 

Malfoy stopped his long strides so quickly she nearly ran into him, her hands just brushing his robes as she halted behind him. He turned slowly, she couldn’t help but compare him to the shadows filling the corridor, and stared down at her with gleaming eyes. 

He scoffed, “You think I was protecting you, worried about him harming you?” He bit out the words. 

She raised a brow at him, as if to say you weren’t? 

“I wasn’t protecting you, Granger. Dumbledore obviously doesn’t trust me but he does you. You were the only thing getting me out of that room.” He ran his eyes down her form, as if judging her. 

“It’s called self-preservation. You should try it.” 

He turned sharply and took off at a quick pace, leaving her slightly behind. She watched the way his robes billowed behind him for a moment. It reminded her of Snape. There were many things in the castle that reminded her of the future. She wondered if she would ever be able to look at anything again without feeling that tight pinch of pain in her chest. 

She breathed out and followed Malfoy again, keeping her distance from him and his sharp tongue. Hermione berated herself internally, cursing that she should have forgone asking him about his actions and securing an oath from him instead. He was in no mood to talk now, and walking too fast for her to keep up even if she wanted to. 

She didn’t speak to him again until they arrived at the infirmary. 

Madam Blainey must have been expecting them, for when Malfoy pushed open the heavy doors to the medical room, she was sitting at her desk scribbling on a few different pieces of parchment laid out in front of her. She glanced up as they entered and jumped to her feet, her white healer robes fanning out. 

“I’ve been expecting you two for the past hour! Your friend is doing well, although still asleep. I don’t see any reason as to why he is still not conscious.” She hurried over to them, reaching out a hand to run over Malfoy and cast a diagnosis spell. 

It came back green, nothing indicating that he was harmed. 

The medi-witch continued, stepping over to Hermione and repeating the process. “I have some potions that need to be brewed in a few minutes, when the moonlight is at its peak so we will have to hurry.” She gave Hermione a curious glance as her diagnostic spell colored yellow. 

Hermione bit at her lip, wondering what the healer saw. “Is there something the matter?” 

Malfoy looked back at her briefly, glancing towards the diagnostic chart hovering in the air before he turned towards the one bed with a curtain drawn around it. “Is it okay to see him?” 

She was surprised he even had the manners to ask the healer. Although, she did not think he would listen if he were told no. Madam Blainey nodded and gestured for him to go, turning her full gaze on Hermione. She put her hands on her hips in a gesture that reminded Hermione fully of herself. She had to hold back a giggle at the thought and braced herself for some sort of reprimand.

“Young lady. You have thoroughly exhausted your magical core! I am surprised you are still standing right now. And your head! Do you have any pain?” The healer motioned for her to sit on a stool she conjured, summoning three potions as she did. 

Hermione looked over to where Malfoy was disappearing behind the curtain, Nott’s prone body just visible. She really didn’t want to leave them alone if Nott were to wake. She met the healers eyes, a dark and intelligent brown, and knew she would not be leaving the stool until the witch was satisfied. She let a quiet yes be her response. 

The witch clicked her tongue and shook her head in dismay. “Take these, one is a headache potion and the other two calming and stabilizing draughts.” She eyed Hermione as she swallowed down the shimmering liquids. 

Hermione instantly felt a little better, the pounding in her head that she had just pushed aside had receded and she felt her shoulders relax. She smiled thinly up at Madam Blainey. 

“Thank you. I feel a bit better.” 

The witch eyed her once more and cast another diagnostic charm, a satisfied look crossing her face as it came up a light green. Hermione was happy too, it meant she could go join Malfoy with Nott. 

“You’re most welcome, Miss…” Madam Blainey trailed off, waiting for Hermione to give her name. 

She blanched a little. “Uh, Granger. Hermione Granger.” 

There was no going back now. The thought of obliviating the witch crossed her mind just briefly before she pushed it away. There was no need. She would be Hermione Granger here. 

“Miss. Granger.” The witch tested out the name, giving her another glance over. “It is nice to meet you. There are cots available next to your friend’s. Try to get some sleep before it is morning.” She gave Hermione a gentle smile and gathered her things. 

Hermione watched her leave towards the back of the room, and concluded that must be where her personal rooms were. She glanced at the bed with the drawn curtain, detecting no movement. Hopefully Malfoy didn’t have a curse ready for her. 

She gathered her courage and walked quietly over to the area, pushing the curtain back slowly. 

Nott was sitting up in his bed, his face slightly pale but he looked okay otherwise. His eyes crinkled and lit with mischief as he saw her and he beckoned her forward. Malfoy was leaning against the wall right next to him, arms crossed and watching her intently. She stepped forward and immediately was bounced back with a small electric shock. 

She rubbed at her arms and shot a glare at Malfoy before moving it on Nott. He was openly laughing but she couldn’t hear him. She brandished her wand and muttered a finite, watching as the simple ward fell. Nott’s laughter pierced the air and she gave him another sharp look, stepping behind the curtain and drawing up a few wards of her own. 

When she was satisfied with the strength of her silencing and alert charms she mirrored Malfoy, crossing her arms while looking between the two boys. She sent a questioning gaze at Nott, wondering why he was awake. Hermione didn’t have to wait long for one of them to speak. 

“I just pretended to be sleeping until one of you showed up.” He shrugged. “You missed me, didn’t you?” Nott grinned at her, his teeth glinting in the dim light. 

She rolled her eyes at him, allowing a moment of amusement before dropping the expression and moving to sit on the edge of his bed. 

He scooted up further, moving his legs for her. “If I knew it were this easy to get you in my bed, I would have fallen from the sky a long time ago.” He exaggeratedly looked her up and down, his curls bouncing. 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes again and looked away from his burning gaze, her cheeks flushing with heat. Malfoy was silent, watching the interaction with his lips pressed together. She decided then that these two would be the death of her. It was unlike interacting with Ron and Harry. She needed to stay sharp. 

“As much as it pains me that you’re not still sleeping and quiet,” She emphasized the word. “Jokes aside, we have a lot to discuss.” 

Malfoy snorted, something so unlike him. She turned her head towards him slowly. “Yes?” 

Amber clashed with granite for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. He pushed off the wall and stalked forward until he was standing a foot from her. She felt the need to stand too, not liking how he used his height to try and intimidate her. She stayed at the edge of the bed though and glared up at him, her hair starting to crackle with her magic. 

“You act as if we’re going to work with you, side with you. Have you forgotten who we are, who you are?” He bent a little bringing his face closer to hers. 

The silver and gray swirling in his eyes was hypnotic. 

“What’s to stop me from killing you right here, right now?” His warm breath ghosted over her face, clean and sharp. Just like him. 

She swallowed and leaned back from him a little uneasily, breaking eye contact to look over at Nott. He was studying her, face serious for once and she waited for any input from him.  

“Draco -” Nott began. 

She interrupted him, fury washing through her veins. “No. No you don’t get to do this, play some game between what you think is the death eaters and the order.” She drew in a long breath before continuing, standing so Malfoy and her were nearly touching. 

“Can’t you see that this is bigger than that? That this is about stopping all of that from happening? Changing it?” She felt her cheeks flush again and her heartbeat spike. 

Malfoy just stared at her, eyes narrowed. She took it as a sign to continue. 

“Can you imagine a world where you didn’t have to grow up under Voldemort’s thumb, not having to watch people die needlesly or surrounded by violence and torture?” 

The air fizzled with magic, sparking and flowing throughout the small area. She realized it was coming from her and took a step away from Malfoy, looking over at Nott who was trying to ease the tension. 

“Hey, hey maybe don’t alert the healer yeah?” Nott’s small smile slipped from his face. “Before you go all righteous on us, can you maybe explain what's going on to the guy who's been sleeping for the last few hours?” He flipped his thumbs back to point at himself. 

“And then we can decide if we're going to kill you?” He added, looking thoughtfully at Malfoy. 

Malfoy didn’t move from his spot, still staring at her with an unreadable look. She huffed and took a seat again, feeling way too much adrenaline coursing through her body. Nott was right. They all needed to be on the same page. And Malfoy didn’t even know about Riddle yet. 

“Nott’s right.” She started and met Malfoy’s cold gaze again. 

“No matter if you want to kill me or not, there are things I know that you need to know as well. Important things. And then there's the matter of getting back…” Hermione trailed off, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. 

“So we really are trapped in the past.” Nott sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “How far back?” 

“If my calculations are correct, nineteen forty-four.” 

“Calculations?”  Nott choked on air, leaning forwards slightly. She glanced at Malfoy watching his eyes tighten to slits. 

Hermione ran a hand through her own hair, summoning a ribbon and tied it up in a messy chignon. It was going to be a long night. Malfoy tracked the movement, his eyes lingering on her bare neck. She shivered. 

“Yes. I led Dumbledore to believe that it was intentional… coming back to this time. Of course, it wasn’t but we still ended up in a good time.” She glanced between the two boys, gaging their reactions. 

“In a good time?” Malfoy spoke. His eyes cut over to meet Nott’s. “We are stuck more than fifty years in the past. With nothing but our wands and a world full of strangers. How is that good? Please, go on” His voice was full of spite, but he kept it level and low. 

She cracked a smile at him and shook her head as if he were slow. “And that is why you shouldn’t kill me.” 

Hermione pushed up from the bed again and turned to pace at the foot of it, walking back and forth with steady steps. She heard Nott mutter behind her as she turned again, 

“Kitten’s got claws.” 

Malfoy laughed slightly and she turned on him, tilting her head as she took him in. His arrogance would be his downfall. 

“Didn’t you feel him?” She narrowed her eyes, sneering at him almost. 

“Feel who, Granger. I’m getting tired of your wordplay.” He sneered back. 

She laughed a little manically, maybe a little theatrically and closed her eyes. She finally had the upper hand on the two death eaters, and she was relishing in it. When Hermione opened her eyes again she moved so she could look at both the boys at once. 

“Voldemort, of course. Polite, Head Boy Mr. Riddle.” She let the words sink in, slipping softly around the room as if echoing. 

They looked shell-shocked and Hermione didn’t think Malfoy could get any more pale than he already was. Nott doubled over in his bed, curling in on himself for a moment before rising and looking at Malfoy with what Hermione thought was dread. 

She decided this was where she would leave them. If they wanted to still kill her, they could. But she would wager that Malfoy was now second-guessing that action. She pulled out her beaded bag and set it on the bed, rummaging through it as if she didn’t just drop a bomb over their heads. She pulled out a set of pajamas and some dried fruit, exaggerating how far she had to reach into the bag to let them know she had tons of other supplies. 

“You two talk it over. Malfoy will explain our cover story, Nott. Decide who wants to be Fawley and who Carrow. Dumbledore expects us to be sorted in the morning.” She swept her eyes over them again before dragging the curtain back and ending her enchantments. 

Malfoy was flicking his eyes between her and Nott, his shoulders starting to slouch. He didn’t say anything to her, just stared. Nott mumbled something as she turned to leave, but she didn’t catch all of it. 

Something along the lines of “Fucking hell” if she had to take a guess. 

Hermione closed the curtain and headed to the bed on the right of Nott’s, drawing the curtain closed and setting up the same enchantments as before. They would alert her if anyone tried to enter. She changed and settled into the soft bed sighing, something she hadn't had the luxury of in months. 

Only time would tell what was going to happen. But if she had to wager, Hermione felt as if chance were on her side. 

She set a tempus alarm and settled in for the next few hours, waiting for daylight to break the darkness in the room. Her hand never left her wand, just in case Malfoy decided to follow through with his threat.