Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns

Hermione awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge herself in air and exercise.

She had turned to go outside; but on hearing the sound of wings flapping, she moved towards the open window. The same regal looking owl who had sent Pansy’s missives to Luna had by that time reached the windowsill, and proudly held out a letter. Hermione instinctively took the offered envelope, yet with a forced look of haughty composure. Then, with an arrogantly dismissive nod of its head and not waiting for a treat, the bird took off, and was soon out of sight.

With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, Hermione perceived an envelope containing two sheets of parchment, written quite through, in a very close hand. It was dated from Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, at eight o'clock in the morning, and was as follows:

MISS GRANGER,

Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were yesterday morning so disgusting to you. You must pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Zabini from your friend, and the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honor and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the career prospects of Mr. Weasley. But from the severity of that blame which was yesterday so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in the future secured, when the following account of my actions and their motives has been read.

I had not been long at the ministry’s annual ball, before I saw, in common with others, that Blaise preferred Miss Lovegood to any other young witch. But it was not till she was cursed and remained at Malfoy Manor that I had any apprehension, for knowing of her proclivity towards absent minded behavior, I was certain that this consequence would likely have a repeat occurrence, should this particular curse not end her life. Therefore, I endeavored to smother Blaise’s affections, thus sparing him the agony of developing feelings for a flighty witch destined to meet an untimely end. By the time I realized my error, it was too late to affect any undoing of the scheme. Mr. Zabini had been quite separated from Miss Lovegood, both in distance and affection. Though I did so without malice, my actions have surely pained your friend, and your newly found resentment has not been unreasonable. To be fair, you were tortured in my mother’s formal drawing room by my aunt, and long have had reason to resent me.

With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured Mr. Weasley, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with me. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity.

Mr. Weasley is the son of a somewhat respectable man, who had for many years the management as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. The good conduct of his elder brothers naturally inclined me to be of service to him, and my kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. However, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities—the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the public knowledge, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments. How I wish you knew what I did before your engagement to him.

During our seventh year at Hogwarts, it came to my attention that Mr. Weasley got involved in underhanded dealings with the wrong crowd, of whom I discovered to have been Egyptian antique smugglers based out of Knockturn Alley. In deference to his father and brothers, I paid 1,000 Galleons to help him out of that most unsavory situation; however, as it turns out, Mr. Weasley hadn’t wanted my assistance or my gold. It is my belief that he was embarrassed, and his resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances. He was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After graduation every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice.

I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any other wizard or witch. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My friend, Miss Pansy Parkinson, now engaged to Mr. Theodore Nott, was then scorned by Mr. Weasley after our graduation. He made it clear that, while she was good enough to bed in secret, she was still a Slytherin. As such, her house rendered her ineligible for matrimony.

You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you yesterday morning; but I was not then master enough of myself to know what ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Mr. Theodore Nott, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavor to owl this letter to you. I will only add, Merlin bless you.

DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY

Hermione’s feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With a strong prejudice against everything he might say, she read with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her friend's insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done, which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence.

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Draco nor Ronald could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd.

“How despicably I have acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment as the brightest witch of my age! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candor of my friend, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”