Unspoken

The hustle and bustle of the Atrium at the close of the day was louder than was necessary. Hermione and Draco were almost pushed out of the elevator by colleagues eager to make their way to their Friday night plans. They were separated by the crowd within moments, but Draco motioned that he would meet her in line by the fireplaces and she nodded in agreement. She kept a hold of her work bag as she was greeted by a few workers while trying to squeeze her way through the crowd.

“Hermione?” 

At the sound of Harry’s voice, she turned and smiled brightly at the young man. Harry seemed grateful for an excuse to cut off the official speaking to him and made his way to her side.

“It’s like watching the parting of the Red Sea,” she teased, noting how people just naturally made way for her friend. 

“You’ll never find that joke old, will you?” he asked with a grin and a hug.

She started a little, but smiled back. “I suppose not.” 

“I was just heading to the Leaky Cauldron to meet Gin. Come with me!” he stated, brushing some of the longer black hairs away from his eyes. He must have noticed her hesitation, because he narrowed those bottle green eyes of his and asked, “You are leaving, right?”

“Yes, Godrick, it’s Friday for fucks sake.” she snorted.

An older witch with an over-embellished hat looked askance at the use of her language, but Hermione ignored her. 

“Then come with me.” insisted Harry.

“I have plans already,” she said, actually a little disappointed. Going out on Friday to drink and eat a nice meal with friends to just chat and listen about their lives - those were moments Granger seemed to never allow herself to enjoy. Hermione didn’t want to live like that.

Harry was definitely disappointed. “What are you doing?”

“She’s with me tonight, Potter.”

Draco gently balanced an elbow on Hermione’s shoulder and leaned in towards their conversation, careful not to actually put any weight into his movement that might overbalance her. She grinned up at him, missing the shadow that passed over Harry’s face.

“Sorry, I got caught up.”

“I wasn’t trying to rush you.” he murmured. 

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.” 

The men exchanged stiff nods and it was then that Hermione noticed Harry wasn’t pleased at their interruption. 

“So it’s not what you’re doing, but whom,” he intoned flatly. 

“Harry James Potter!” hissed Hermione angrily as she shrugged off Draco to poke her best friend in the chest. “I’ve told you, that’s not what this is!”

The witch with the horrible hat was definitely looking offended now. Hermione glared at her, daring her to mind her own business, only turning back to Harry when the nosy lady had disappeared into the crowd

“Then what is it?” asked Harry, crossing his arms.

“It’s a date, and we’re late.” announced Draco with a smirk, taking Hermione’s work bag from her and slinging it alongside his own. 

“Draco…” groaned Hermione.

“Draco now, is it?” growled Harry.

“Don’t want to keep you from your lovely wife-to-be, so be seeing you, Potter.”

Taking up Hermione’s hand in his own, Draco started to pull her along towards the Floo. She turned back, unwilling to make any more of a scene than they already had, and mouthed at Harry, I’ll owl you later.

The memory of his hurt expression tugged at her heart as she stepped ahead of Draco into the green flames. She was brushing the ash off her cardigan, trying to dissect her feelings about what had just happened when Draco came through her hearth as well.

“Why did you say that?” she asked, noticing he still had that smirk from earlier on his face.

Draco rolled his eyes. “To get a rise out of him? He hasn’t changed that much since Hogwarts.”

“Don’t.”

He stopped smirking and looked down at Hermione and her frown. Grey eyes blinked a few times down at her in confusion. “Why not? He makes it so easy.”

“I- I don’t… Ugh, I’m not asking you to be friends with him!” said Hermione, frustrated with this emotion she still couldn’t place. “Just- just-”

“Just what, Granger?” he sighed, moving past her and dropping their bags next to the couch. 

“Don’t use me like that.”

“Oh.”

Draco looked chagrined and it softened the tumultuous feeling in her chest a little. His eyes darkened momentarily and he looked away, shoulders and body stiff. But a moment later, he had relaxed and turned back to her.

“I apologize. That was unkind to you.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, still upset and not sure why. “This… isn’t a date, is it?”

Both of his eyebrows popped up in surprise. “No, it’s just… a… planning session?”

Why did that answer bother her?

“Right. And… For that, we need food. What sounds good?” she said, moving over to her kitchen to feed the insistent cat that was weaving his way between her ankles.

One cracked can of tuna later and Hermione felt like she could look Draco in the face again. He had moved up to the counter, which caught her by surprise. She started, he raised an eyebrow, and then she pushed the takeout menus towards him before she could start to think about other things. 

“Before we plan anything,” stated Draco after their dinner order had been called in, “I’m making this very clear: I am in charge.”

“Excuse me?” The iciness of her tone was instantly waved away.

“Just in this instance, witch, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I am a Healer, I’m the one brewing a Forgetfulness Potion in my lab, I’ll be the one performing Legilimency, so I call the shots and I call the quits if I think anything may go wrong.”

It sounded reasonable, so Hermione shrugged. “Fine.”

His fists balled up, his nose twitched, like he was trying to hold in a sneer. “I’m serious, Hermione. As a Healer, I took a Vow to do no harm.”

She looked up at him, shocked. “An Unbreakable Vow? Did, did they make you-”

“No. Every Healer is invited to make the Healer’s Vow as soon as they begin training. It’s like the muggle Hippocratic Oath, but with tangible consequences. And I didn’t think twice about it. When I turned my back on the way I was raised, I needed to prove it to myself, not just everyone else. So if I think this will harm Jefferies in any way, we stop.”

Hermione realized she was staring at him, unanswering, and gulped down her surprise. “You’re in charge, Draco. I trust you.”

It seemed that was what he needed to hear because she watched as his expression relaxed and he took a deep breath.

“Alright. Then here is what I propose…”

-------

The clock on her office shelf ticked it’s way past eleven in the morning. Hermione shuffled papers absentmindedly around her desk, wondering if she looked like she was working or if it was abundantly obvious that she was nervous about something. It was Wednesday, the day she had gotten Jefferies to agree to meet with her, and the auror was late.

“Do you think they got him?” asked Draco, his voice oddly quiet and echoey.

Hermione jumped, having forgotten that he was standing in the corner by her orchid under some heavy charmwork. He had explained his combination of a few spells alongside a disillusionment charm to vastly improve his ability to sneak around Hogwarts - Not everyone has an invisibility cloak like Potter, Hermione - and she was impressed. She wanted to try it herself, but practice would have to wait.

“Deatheaters means he’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Try and be a little more patient,” she muttered under her breath. 

“You’re the one in the comfortable chair…” grumbled the disembodied voice.

Merlin, but her hands were so sweaty. Did people normally sweat this much when they were nervous? She tried wiping it away on her work robes, but it didn’t really help much.

“Use a hot-air charm already.”

“Just shhh, will you?”

Painswick had been lurking around the department since Monday, poking his nose into all of her meetings and startling half the staff out of their comfort zones. One Time Room researcher had singed his eyebrows right off when their boss had slammed a door open. Luckily, apparently Granger, and thus Hermione, knew a spell to help with that. It was a weirdly specific spell, but at least the poor sod had his eyebrows back. She just prayed that her weedy warlock boss would not burst into the middle of their highly unethical and illegal memory-stealing enterprise.

“Is this what it was like for Potter and the Weasel? All the trouble you three managed at Hogwarts, it was all your planning, wasn’t it?”

“Why would you assume that?” she hissed through her teeth.

“They’re too daft to pull off shit like this.” said Draco decidedly.

“Says the man who went along with this plan and then actually took it ov-”

There was a knock at her office door. 

Her chair squealed as Hermione pushed it back in a rush to stand and called, “Come in."

Elizabeth opened the door, a professional smile on her face as she gestured for Jefferies to enter before her. The auror nodded politely and walked forward to shake Hermione’s hand before settling into one of the chairs. 

“Shall I bring some tea?” the assistant asked her brightly.

“Oh- no, no, I’ve already arranged tea for this discussion. Thank you, Elizabeth, that’s all.”

Crestfallen, Elizabeth closed the door behind her with a gentle snap. 

As soon as they were alone, Hermione cast a muffling charm on the door and smiled apologetically at Jefferies. 

“This is a strictly confidential talk, please understand.” she said, resuming her seat after pouring out the tea that had been dosed with the Forgetfulness potion.

“Yes. And my apologies for being late, Granger, - our youngest has been teething again. I had to run out for some more potion supplies in the middle of the night.” he explained, taking a teacup and saucer from Hermione.

“Of course. You must be tired.” Secretly, Hermione was thrilled.

“You think it’d get easier by the third kid, but not really.” Jefferies took a sip of his cup and Hermione tried not to stare as he did so.

“Well, thank you for making time with me to discuss new security measures for the Hall of Prophecy.” 

She and Draco had planned this particular line of discussion as part of the scheme. It was a reasonable request to make of the auror, without arousing suspicion by being too similar to questions already covered by the investigation. They also hoped that maybe, just maybe, the talk might bring on another episode similar to the one Hermione had experienced. 

“Of course. Whatever I can do to help. Potter speaks very highly of you, you know.”

Hermione felt the heat rise in her face from the compliment. “Well, he tends to be biased. But I’d like to start with your take on the state of the wards.”

“Certainly.” Jefferies took another sip.

“With Keeper Wentworth still at the hospital and the wards starting to fail, it may be time to consider restyling the wards or at the very least, adding in some protection spellwork to the structure of the chamber.”

“And how can I help with that?” asked the auror.

Reminding herself not to fidget, and not to turn to look at the ‘empty’ spot in the corner of her office, Hermione continued, “Particularly, we’d like to avoid another explosion. The damage to the prophecies is not as extensive as the incident in 1995, but the damage to the Hall itself is much greater. I understand the current wards should have prevented any magical incendiary devices. Do you have any theories?”

“Incendiary devices?” He seemed puzzled.

“Mmm,” she said, “Like the magical equivalent of a muggle bomb.”

“A boom?” He was definitely confused.

“BAH-M.” repeated Hermione politely, wincing that she still sounded fairly condescending. “It’s a muggle device that generally inflicts damage upon a large area in an outward radius. There are many different types, unlike what we would find in the magical communi- Jefferies?”

The man in the chair was staring past Hermione. It was the same glazed look she had been hoping to see again. She stood up, whipping around her desk.

“Draco-”

“Already on it.” 

She stood by one side of the auror as Draco divested himself of his charmwork and materialized in front of the occupied chair. He waved his wand in front of the blank face, using a light to peer into Jefferies’ eyes. 

“You’re right, something odd is definitely up. Did you give him the right dosage of the potion?”

Hermione was a little hysterical as she whispered, “You’re the one who brewed the potion and the tea this morning!”

“Well, this is as good an opportunity as I’ll get. If he is dissociating, the memory should be at the forefront when I delve in.” Draco tucked his wand back into sleeve and knelt down, placing a hand on each arm of the chair. He looked up at Hermione, eyes wavering for a moment.

“We have to do this.” she whispered, knowing that he was feeling conflicted.

He swallowed and nodded, setting his mouth in a grim line. “Watch the door.”

Hermione already had her wand trained towards the front of her office, but she watched as Draco gazed determinedly at the auror and seemed to slip away from the moment. 

-------

| VIAL 15

Blackness washes down the walls in thick ripples, bookshelves upon bookshelves settling themselves into neat and tidy rows. This bookstore with its large, glass windows looking out to a quiet winter day is mostly empty as a bushy haired Hermione Granger strokes the spines of books and reads the titles under breath. There is a large selection to choose from but from the frown on her face, it is clear she is disappointed. 

“Legilimency and Legend… no…” 

She looks tired, her skin a little peaky and her hair a horrid tangle of tresses not made neater by the wand sticking out of it. A not-so-small pile of books floats midair next to her.

Stretching out to the top shelf as far as her toes will allow her, Hermione grabs a tome entitled Occlumancy and the Occult. She just barely manages not to drop it on her head and opens it to the table of contents in the front, flipping the pages as she reads along. A brief skim and she moves to return it to its place on the shelf but try as she might, she struggles to put it back.

Suddenly the book pops out from her hand and slides neatly back into the shelf.

Draco Malfoy stands a few feet down, tucking his wand in his pocket. 

“I could have done that myself, Malfoy.” she snaps. 

“It was simply too pathetic to keep watching.” he sneered.

She scoffs angrily and whips around to walk around, slamming straight into her floating tower of books. They clatter around her onto the floor, one book half-heartedly trying to remain a float and dragging its back cover along the wooden floor. Hermione clenches her teeth and pulls out her wand, but again, Draco had used his magic to collect her books back into a pile. 

“Stop that!” she whisper-shrieks, then glances up at the front of the store to see if the clerk heard her. 

“This isn’t a library, Granger.” he says lazily, summoning her books closer to him and perusing her choices.

Hermione whips her wand around and half the pile returns to her. 

“The Predilection Problem of Predictions & Prophecies? What else are you reading… ah, Unraveling the Mystical Weave of Magic. Do you know what light reading is?

His eyes glitter with mirth as Draco savors the vision of Hermione stomping over to wrench the book out of his hands.

“It’s nine in the morning. On New Year’s Day. Can’t you just leave me to do my browsing and go about your own business, Malfoy?” 

“And how does Hermione Granger go about choosing the appropriate book? Swottiest author? Peer reviewed recommendations? Or is it simply the bigger the better?” 

Hermione clenches her jaw and recovers the rest of her books before heading for the cash register. Draco follows close behind her, a delighted grin on his face. The clerk is not yet at the checkout and begs her to wait a moment. She sighs and turns to Draco, crossing her arms.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not. I, too, enjoy a good book, Granger, and I am here to pick up my order.”

“Then why did you bother me to begin with?!” she asks snippily.

“It’s a new year. Nothing better to start my year than flustering you. Very nostalgic.”

“What, no witch to warm your bed last night? Losing your touch?” she asks cooley, and the happy expression on Draco’s face melts away.

He sneers at her, shifting his weight so that he looms slightly above her. “Don’t believe everything Witch Weekly writes, Granger. You’re too intelligent for that rubbish.

She sniffs and turns her back to him, but he leans over and pulls another book from her pile to examine.

“Stick to reading your, what is this… Hairballs and Hysterics: A Brief on Kneazle Behaviors… Dear Salazar, witch, don’t tell me you still have that ugly mug of creature? And if you do, surely you don’t need more books on caretaking after this many years?”

“Of course I can care for him,” she defends herself, “This is in case- well, someone may need to watch him. If I go somewhere.”

“Everyone knows that Hermione Granger-”

She slams her hands on the counter and turns to Draco, pointing her wand in his chest. “Yes, everyone knows that Hermione Granger never takes a vacation. That she’s married to her work. I don’t need you of all people to tell me about my life, Malfoy.”

Just then, the clerk returns to the counter and Hermione quickly puts her wand away, glaring out of the side of her brown eyes at the tall wizard who is eyeing her with equal distaste.

“Ms. Granger, it’s always a pleasure when you stop by. I’ll ring things up for your momentarily, and Mr. Malfoy - I have your copy of the new Cogitar book in the back. I’ll summon it shortly for you.”

Hermione straightens a little and hesitates, glancing again at Draco. 

“Do you… like Cogitar’s theories on memory modifications?” she asks, attempting nonchalance and failing.

Draco ignores her and sighs, checking his wrist watch. 

“Oh, nevermind.” Hermione snaps as she slides several coins across to the clerk as he wraps A Need-to-Know on Kneazles in brown paper.

“Cogitar set the foundation for modern memory modification. Every Healer has to read it in their first year of residency. My own research relies heavily on his theory of time and memory. So yes, I do appreciate Cogitar. ”

Draco is still refusing to look at Hermione when she glances over her shoulder at home once more. He does not provide any further conversation. 

With the swish of her wand, Hermione gathers her books and shrinks them down until they can fit through the opening of an ugly purple handbag she pulls out from inside of her robes. She heads to the door to leave, but pauses with her palm on the handle. In the reflection of the snowy window, she can see Draco interacting and smiling with the clerk. She frowns as everything shifts back to white…

-------

Her wand was damp with the slickness of her sweat but Hermione didn’t dare move it away from the door while Draco was still within the confines of Jefferies’ thoughts. In the silence of her office, with the tension in the air, even though only a minute or so had gone by, it felt like an hour.

She gasped as Malfoy jerked heavily back from his connection with the auror, crashing into the front of her desk, eyes wild and panicked.

“What is it?!” she asked, turning but her wand arm unwavering, “What’s wrong?”

Draco was breathing heavily, as though he had run from something despite having remained in one place during his examination. He stared up at her in shock.

“It’s not Obliviation.” he announced shakily. 

Hermione felt her heart drop. Was this dangerous endeavor for nothing? 

“I have to see it again.” he told her, moving back into his kneeling position. 

“What?” she asked, the nerves of her fingertips going numb as she tightened her hand around her wand. “What is ‘it’?”

Draco shook his head at her. “I don’t have time to explain. I’ll only be a moment, but when I get out, I’m going to need a vial.”