The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
29
Views:
39,184
Reviews:
112
Recommended:
4
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
29
Views:
39,184
Reviews:
112
Recommended:
4
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 17
Title: The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
Author:
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Suspense, romance, angst
Warnings: Character Death, graphic violence, madness, non-consensual sexual acts, abuse, oral, M/F, and overall darkness. Dark!Harry included.
Summary: DH-EWE: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible.
Author's Notes: This fic is in 1st person POV, so take heed. It will eventually be a DM/HG, but there is a squicky scene that might make you think otherwise. There is some non-con in this fic, so if it squicks you, don't read it for Merlin's sake! Comments and ConCrit is welcomed!
Quick Note: The Battle of Hogwarts takes place in the beginning of May, and just until recently did I find something on the Lexicon(shiver) that gives a specific date...and it is not May 10, 1998. I think it is earlier. However, for the purposes of this fic, the Battle of Hogwarts is May 10! Just thought I would point that out.
The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
Part 17
April 22nd was the first day I saw Narcissa since she left me in the kitchens, my familiar in her arms, after the attack on the Manor. It was early when I heard the distinct sounds of horses’ hooves, and looking out of the open front windows saw her staring up at me from the back of her dapple gray gelding.
“Come to the bothy, Hermione…” she had said when I went down to greet her.
It had been only the third time I had left the confines of the groom’s quarters. I had learned on my second excursion outside that two elves took care of the horses housed below my new little home. Pan and Sheff were the elf’s names, and they were not in the least bit personable. I did not bother worrying about the horses or their elfish handlers since then.
Narcissa slid down from her saddle-less horse and embraced me when I first approached, and I was struck at how warm she felt. She seemed much recovered from the events weeks before, and she glowed as we walked back to the paddock, letting her horse roam as we sat on the low stonewall in the shade of the trees.
“I know we should have been by sooner, Hermione, but between working with the elves to restore the Manor, and Lucius having to file complaints to the Ministry against those that attacked us, it has been a bit busy.”
I nodded. “You and Mr. Malfoy are not facing any sort of repercussions from using the Ki-…”
“Oh, of course not!” Narcissa interrupted, her pale eyes widening. “We were defending our home and our lives against criminals.”
“True,” I whispered, my eyes falling to Narcissa’s slippers and skirt. I smirked, knowing that she had ridden her horse without the benefit of a sidesaddle… “But I was still worried about that,” I added.
Narcissa grasped my hand, and we smiled at each other.
“But you need to come to the bothy with me, Hermione…”
I blinked in confusion at the excitement laced in Narcissa’s voice.
“It is Lucius’ birthday.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know if he would appreciate me being his birthday guest…”
Narcissa tried not to laugh, but said, “My husband would probably be glad, Hermione. Having only me and the elves to talk to has driven him a little…oh, I’ll just say it…he’s being a prat.”
I snorted a laugh. I could imagine what Narcissa meant…if Malfoy was any indication on how the men of the Malfoy family acted when they were bored or annoyed…
“Your coming is really more for me than him, anyway…” Narcissa muttered, patting the back of my hand.
I smiled, feeling very happy that someone like Narcissa Malfoy wanted me. In another time, I would have never imagined that Narcissa would be talking and sitting with me like a friend. It was strange what the Fates dealt a person, but on the account of Narcissa, I did not mind.
I asked if I should wear something different from the skirt and black blouse I wore the day Malfoy and I sat on the balcony, and Narcissa laughed and said that I looked fine enough to join her and her husband for a birthday lunch. I blushed slightly…Narcissa wore a two piece dress that reminded me of something from the Victorian era with a dark blue bodice, a high lace collar and matching skirt that was slightly bustled in the back. She wore her hair in almost the same manner as I, pulled from the temples in a loose braid over the rest of her beautiful pale hair. It was hard to believe she was old enough to be my mother…
“A gift?” I ventured meekly.
Again Narcissa laughed, her voice like twinkling bells, “Unless you have been able to sneak past Draco’s wards and go to London to shop, you and I both will be giving only the gift of our company, my darling.”
I smiled as Narcissa, again, squeezed my hand.
After deciding to walk to the bothy, which Narcissa told me that a shortcut through the forest would shave off a half hour, I moved to the front of the stables, using my wand to shut the windows. I did not bother Summoning my coat, the late April day sufficiently warm.
Narcissa and I walked hand in hand through the fields. She left her horse to graze where it liked, telling me that if she needed the intelligent gelding, it would come at her call.
“You should have Draco teach you to ride, Hermione.”
I shrugged as we turned into the forest.
“You know he has not been back for days…” I started, but trailed, our feet seemingly to find a path carved between the roots of the large white trees.
“I know. Have you been afraid by yourself?”
I shrugged again. “I have lived a little more than eight years alone in the Forbidden Forest, and even then I had to worry about werewolves, manticores, and a three headed dog encroaching on my home…”
“What about the centaurs?” Narcissa asked, her face conveying her curiosity.
“I have a truce with them…and now…a friendship, after Harry killed some of their herd.”
Narcissa nodded, “Yes, Draco told us…” she said darkly, and I could sense that she was barely containing her anger at the idea of a wizard killing centaurs. I wondered what type of affection Narcissa had for the centaurs that she seem so angry, but I did not ask.
I never pried into her matters, and I was still learning that if Malfoy’s mother wanted to impart some information to me, she would do so in her own time…but not wait too long to do so. I was very fond of Narcissa. She was the opposite of every preconceived notion I had of her as girl, and this fact delighted me.
We walked through the trees, sunlight lighting patches of our path. The only other time I had been in the forest has been the night I dreamt of the Palace of Knossos, and then I was not aware that I had been in the forest at all. And when the Malfoys and I had escaped deeper into the trees the night of the attack, I had been so anxious that I did not notice the character of the forest. Nevertheless, as we walked, I could feel that this forest was not so different from the one I called my home. It was a magical forest; that much was certain. I could feel old power under my feet and in the massive white bark trees that seemed like columns around us.
“Did centaurs live in this forest?” I asked, my voice airy as my eyes moved along the floor of the forest and over the dark soil and dead leaves.
Narcissa hummed to herself. “They still do…”
I glanced to her, surprised.
“In the southern reaches, they only come into this part on special occasions…Beltane, Midsummer, Samhain…all the important days. They have lived in this forest as long as the Malfoy family has lived here.”
I cocked my head, “Do you speak with them?”
Narcissa laughed. “Of course. Not often, but Lucius and I have several times since we have been married.”
“Are they friendly?”
She squeezed my hand. “In their way they are. I do not know what the herd is like in the Forbidden Forest, but this forest…what the centaurs call Temple Wood, the herd is friendly to the family, but the centaurs have their own ways and we never interfere.”
I hummed to myself as Narcissa and I stepped over a particularly thick, white root.
“I obey the laws of the Forest, and never cross the boundaries…” I said softly.
“That is the way of centaurs. You must never impose yourself, and you must always be respectful. Centaurs can be great allies, or great enemies…the Dark Lord found that out,” Narcissa mumbled, her eyes growing distant.
I agreed with her, hoping to draw her thoughts away from the old times.
“You don’t have any malignant beasts in your forest?”
Narcissa shook her head. “Lucius’ grandmother wanted to introduce manticores to thin out the Thestrals…needless to say she was not a very bright woman and his grandfather quite wise.”
I smirked. “I haven’t seen any Thestrals…”
“They stay near the centaurs, for some reason, but there are a few near the bothy. Do you see many in the Forbidden Forest?”
“Many. They stay near the school grounds…where Hagrid feeds them. He shouldn’t, but Hagrid is just so…so…caring in a manner that is almost harmful.”
Narcissa said nothing, and I remembered then how Lucius had campaigned for Buckbeak’s execution. I knew I could not feel anything but the warmest love for Hagrid, and I would not apologize for my care for him to even someone like Narcissa Malfoy whom I had grown to admire and care for a great deal.
Our conversation continued on…the trees…the brooks…and other wildlife of the forest. It was not long until the forest path led us into downland of more rolling hills of green. We moved along the edge of the forest until the downland became more rugged, and to a deep vale, surrounded my thick black bark trees, was the bothy.
We had walked at least forty-five minutes, and the bothy laid another ten minute walk from the edge of the forest, the terrain sloping upward into the vale. The bothy, from the outside was almost like my cottage, built into the deepest part of the vale with chalky limestone walls, a wooden roof, and stone chimney coming from the shingles. The bothy looked smaller than even my cottage, and there was not a single window. Compared to the groom’s quarters, the bothy was a hovel.
Narcissa released my hand and pushed upon the low door, smiling mischievously. I prepared myself, for, I did not know what, when I followed her inside.
And then, I knew I should have known better to judge the humble bothy by its outside walls. The Malfoys were a Wizarding family.
The inside of the bothy, as Narcissa closed the door behind me, was at least as big as the foyer of the Manor and nearly as high inside. It reminded me of ancient castle halls that I had seen in films as a little girl. Enchanted stained glass windows ran on either side of the hall, and in the far back was a fireplace, that was bigger than any I knew in Hogwarts, with a raging fire. There were curtained sections for the Malfoy’s bedroom with an ancient four-poster bed large enough to sleep at least two small families, and a bathing area with a large tub and water closet tucked into a far corner. There was even a kitchen with a smaller fire, built much like my cottage kitchen with stone counters. But in the middle of the hall was a luxurious common area with medieval style couches and chairs, tables and chests. Hanging from the timbered ceiling were wrought iron chandeliers with what seemed like millions of enchanted candles.
All in all, I had stepped into the Malfoy home of the tenth century…complete with armor and tapestries on the walls. It was nothing short of breathtaking.
Lucius sat in a chair near the fire, reading a book, his booted feet upon a low stool. He had a pair of glasses perched on the end of his patrician nose, and his face was perhaps the most unguarded as I had ever seen it. Lucius Malfoy was a handsome man at fifty-three.
“Ah, Miss Granger…did ‘Cissa drag you through the forest for my birthday?” he drawled as Narcissa and I approached.
Slipping his glasses from his nose and setting them inside his book, which I was amused to see was Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers,’ he rose to his feet, smiling faintly.
I smirked. “I’ve been invited for lunch.”
Narcissa grinned mischievously. “I told her that my company, and Leak’s jokes were getting to you…and also I would not have to suffer you being a ‘prat’ on your birthday, I brought her for company for us both.”
I wanted to snort, but bit the inside of my cheek instead.
Lucius, however, laughed. “I am afraid to learn the truth, Miss Granger, so let us have lunch and talk about other things besides my birthday…”
I found that lunch with the Malfoys was very enjoyable. Both Malfoys were interesting to converse with, both very intelligent and articulate. We spent our lunch, of fantastic French cuisine, laughing. I never imagined that I would laugh with Lucius Malfoy. Again, in another time, it would have seemed impossible. As we talked, I began to see where Malfoy picked up his mannerisms. Lucius was sarcastic and at times cryptic, while Narcissa spoke almost in verses. It was hard to believe many times that either Malfoy was ever involved with Voldemort…and even though I kept that thought in the back of my mind, I still enjoyed their company and grew to like them…even Lucius.
When lunch was over, Lucius informed me that the bothy was indeed the first Malfoy hall…built when the Malfoys came in the seventh century. It was uncertain how ‘Norman’ the Malfoy family was, but Lucius believed that the Malfoys were not actually from France, but came earlier with the Viking invasions…later taking a more ‘Norman’ name in the eleventh century. From the bothy, the seventh century Malfoys began claiming the adjoining forest and downlands, setting up intricate wards that existed into the twenty-first century.
“With Potter and his followers, I am still trying to see how much damage was done to the original wards. Through the centuries every Malfoy heir has added their own protections, and to be honest, the weakest point was at the gates leading to the Manor…”
I frowned, but Lucius assured me that the lands were safe from Muggles and outsiders for the time being. The wards were fortified every equinox and solstice, family rites were made on a nearby hillside where stones had been erected even before the Malfoys came to Britain, but were used by the family since it was a point of magical power.
“Nothing like the nearby henges, but enough to keep my lands intact and the family safe…” Lucius said softly as the three of us drank tea.
I found Lucius’ accounts of the Malfoys quite interesting…the forest, the bothy, and the Manor all were pieces that had stayed in the Malfoy family for generations. I could see how Malfoy could be so proud…
“And your family, Miss Granger? Do Muggle-born witches and wizards keep records of their family and their lands?” Lucius asked, making sure to sound as unbiased as possible, for my sake. I found his efforts comforting.
“Some do, I am sure. Some Muggles make a hobby of genealogy, but as for me, I did some research in school, out of curiosity. I found that I had ancestors who were wizards, but magical ability seemed to skip generations, appearing here and there through time. My closest magical relative is a great, great, great, great grandfather…on my father’s side. He was a Granger from Ayrshire, and he went of Hogwarts. He was a Ravenclaw.
After that, it seems that there were no magical children, and magic was not something known or talked about.
From what I could piece together, my family, the Grangers, were in Britain since the fourth century…and I found my first magical relative in the earliest records of Hogwarts…another paternal grandfather,” I paused, and then said very clearly, “He was a Slytherin.”
Lucius smirked, and I smiled back. I knew Lucius would be quite amused with the fact that I had a relative, albeit many generations before, was a Slytherin. Of course, not many people would appreciate this bit of my family history…the Weasleys would have found it ghastly news…
“No Hufflepuffs?” he asked.
I shook my head. “The few magical relatives I had who attended Hogwarts were everything but a Hufflepuff.”
“That is comforting,” Lucius laughed, and Narcissa pretended to scold him. I could only laugh with him.
My magical and Muggle heritage was not as important to me because I had never been raised to cherish it like many of the people I had as classmates. I loved my small family, and I loved that I was a witch, but the importance of blood purity and family lineage were not something instilled in me as a girl.
We talked of other things, books, in particular, until Narcissa realized how late the day was becoming. I was in no hurry to go back to the groom’s quarters until Narcissa mentioned that a Floo call might come, and that she was sorry to have kept me for so long.
I ended up being escorted back by Lucius.
He did not take my arm, nor did I want him to. Even though we had talked easily, I was still not entirely comfortable with the man.
The sun was getting lower on the horizon as we walked through the forest at a quicker pace than Narcissa and I had. I did not mind.
“Let me be frank, Miss Granger…” Lucius said as he watched me step over the large root Narcissa and I nearly had to climb over earlier in the day.
I nodded.
“I did not like the idea of you in my home, at first. However, now that I know more of you, and more of the circumstances of what Potter has been doing, I must admit that I would not have had anyone else by my son’s side.”
I paused in our walking and blinked at him. Surely, I was misinterpreting Lucius’ words. He continued walking, not noticing my confusion, and I had to jog to catch up.
“You are a very intelligent young woman, resourceful and, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, very Slytherin.”
I smirked.
“I realize that Potter is…or was, very close to you, but I can see that this attachment has not clouded your judgment. I also know that my behaviour toward you and your friends has made you view me with great aversion. I will not apologize for my actions, and I know that it might anger you.
However, I will say that if I had not done exactly what I did, I would not be the man I am today. And hopefully, the man I am today is not totally one that you view with biased contempt.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but said nothing, closing my mouth again with a snap.
“It is my hope that my son will never make my mistakes. And he nearly did, several times. He carries the same Mark as I, and that is the biggest regret I carry. Please do not judge Draco as you would judge me, Miss Granger.”
Finally, I spoke.
“Judgments change, Mr. Malfoy, as do emotions. My memory is very keen, but the pains I felt ten years ago are fading. Time heals many wounds, but not all. We must learn from those wounds.
I have forgiven you long ago, as I have forgiven so many others. The old times are just that…old…and hopefully to be overcome.
I am indebted to you and your wife…and your son for my life. This kindness will not be forgotten, however.
I will admit, Mr. Malfoy, that I am wary of you because of past actions, but I am not going to stupidly ignore your wisdom and experience. I am not one to hold a grudge…it takes too much energy away from more constructive matters. There is no merit to hating, fearing, or being resentful toward you, Mr. Malfoy.”
Lucius did not pause, but smiled…a true smile.
“If only others thought as you did, Miss Granger.”
I breathed a laugh as we came upon the end of the forest path. We walked in silence into the fields, the sunlight streaming through the white trees in a red and gold cast of light. At the yards of the stables, Lucius paused and turned to me, his face softened as if I had uttered some magic word so that I was seeing his true face for the first time.
“Miss Granger, I would like to tell you something that I would like you to promise to keep to yourself.”
I cocked my head, but nodded.
“My son…Draco…it may seem to you that years ago I was quite harsh in handling his welfare. I assume, being the bright young woman you are, it might seem that those actions were inspired by my care of him…to protect him in the most brutal manner. And with my harsh manner, I had, in almost every way, failed Draco. I have tried for ten years to make up for my failures, and after ten years, I am beginning to feel as though I have protected him as a father should protect his beloved child.
But he is a grown man now, and my protections can only go so far. I cannot protect his pride when he feels a failure, and I cannot protect his heart from being broken…
Miss Granger, I am concerned as to the source of your feelings toward my son. Surely, you have considered your feelings toward him, from where they spring and why…
I just do not want you to hurt him when you might suddenly realize you only feel for him because he has saved your life, or because he has protected you. So, I will just ask now.
Do you care for my son because of recent events? Do you view him as a ‘knight in shining armor?’ Or are your feelings for him based upon something more than your need for Draco to protect and maintain your survival?”
I narrowed my eyes and shifted my weight slightly. Lucius was a quick study, I had to give him that. Moreover, he was straight forward whereas Narcissa whittled the truth out of me, bit by bit.
I had to answer Lucius. His questions stemmed from his love for his son, and I could not dance about the question or lie. Lucius was being very honest, so I also had to be very honest in return.
“Mr. Malfoy, I have known your son for many years, and although I had not seen him between the Last Battle and Minerva McGonagall’s funeral, I found him to be very changed from the boy I knew. Your son was my tormentor at Hogwarts, and I resented him. However, after nearly ten years, I have found him to be very much a ‘like’ mind.
The questions you have posed to me, I have asked myself many times. You assume that I have feelings for Mal-Draco, and I admit that I do… It is not just because he has saved my life many times over, or that he has risked his life to protect me…those things just add to how I feel about him.
The day Harry attacked us at the Ministry; I thought I had lost Draco. I was prepared to avenge his death by killing the man who had been my best friend. I could not lose Draco, I could not go on alone…”
I choked on my words, lowering my eyes to the ground…but took a deep breath and met Lucius’ eyes again.
“I cannot honesty say that I love Draco, because I really don’t know what that kind of love is…I have not experienced it yet. But I know that that day, I was ready to fight, and possibly be killed because I thought Draco was dead. And ever since then, whenever we have to run, whenever we have to fight, he is the first thing I think about…even before my own survival. I don’t want him to protect me forever, I want to fight beside him, prove to him that I am not weak…prove that I care for him not to need to be protected.”
I stopped, knowing that I was going to begin repeating myself, because these were the sentiments that repeated through my brain every day.
Lucius gazed back at me, his unguarded face shifting so that he smiled and turned his eyes away and to the fields.
“I feel safe when I am near him, which I never would have felt ten years ago. I love sitting with him, drinking coffee, and bantering about what is happening to all of us, or what had happened years ago. I want to be near him, I want to talk to him, and these last few days have been awkward without having him to speak with…and be near,” I said softly.
Lucius turned his pale eyes to me again.
“When all of ‘this’ is over, I will still want to talk to him and be near him in some manner. I know this because it is just not ‘want’ I feel…I enjoy being near him, talking to him…” I finished.
Lucius and I stared at each other for what seemed a long while, until, finally, Lucius grinned and I automatically put myself on guard, out of habit.
“Does he know all of this?”
I breathed a laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know. Draco teases me too much and it makes it difficult to read his feelings.”
“He learned that from his mother,” Lucius muttered, but held his soft smile. “Why is it that you call him by his surname? Narcissa was curious as well.”
I smirked. “He calls me ‘Granger.’ I don’t think I have ever heard him say my name…”
Lucius chuckled, moving into the stables, I followed, stepping onto the stairs as Lucius took a horse from its stall and mounted without the need of a stirrup.
“You should try saying his first name, and see what happens, Miss Granger.”
I shrugged. “If he ever comes back…”
“Oh, he’ll be back…most definitely for Beltane. Now that he’s an adult he is required to be here for Beltane. And now that you are under Malfoy protections, you are required to witness the rites, Miss Granger… It is a rare privilege,” Lucius said, seeming to use his knees to guide his mount nearer the bottom of the stairs. “Narcissa will surely tell you all about our traditions for Beltane…I just hope that nothing happens before then…” he finished darkly. “I bid you a good night, Miss Granger. My birthday has certainly proved enlightening.”
With that last, somewhat cryptic statement, Lucius raised a hand and goaded his mount to take off from the tables like a streak of white, Lucius holding to the mane and egging the horse faster.
I could only smile smugly at the senior Malfoy as he disappeared across the field. I turned and made my way up the stairs and into what had become my temporary home. I drew my wand to light the candles and stoke the fire. I moved to prepare a small dinner and eyed Douglas Adams’ ‘So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish’ resting on the arm of the couch…
I wondered, suddenly, what Malfoy thought of Zaphod Beeblebrox.
April 30th I was drinking coffee in the kitchen although coffee might have been considered inappropriate in the late afternoon. I had awoken late, for the night before, the klaxon on the Floo sounded as I was sleeping, and I rushed to the fireplace.
Charlie Weasley’s face greeted my sleep-fogged vision. He looked as tired as I felt, and I sat on the floor with heavy eyelids, listening to his words that were slow to sink into my brain.
“Bones’ dying words have led us on a wild goose chase. Although we managed to round up more members of W.A.T.C.H., we’ve come to a dead end. We have searched Little Hangleton from top to bottom…the old Riddle house and the caretaker’s house have remained empty for the past thirteen years…the cemetery had nothing… To be honest, Hermione, we have searched every known location of Voldemort in Britain…and Harry’s travels during his schooldays. There’s nothing.”
I nodded. “I am not entirely surprised. He hid with Dudley Dursley for weeks without notice, and there is no where else in the Muggle world that would be familiar to him.”
“But it still does not mean that he could be hiding among Muggles.”
“True,” I conceded, but felt it was very unlikely.
“W.A.T.C.H. have their own safe houses, and of course, we cannot torture these people for locations, but we have to check everything…even the obvious places.”
I sighed. “I cannot think of an specific place he might go, Charlie. I just know where he could not be.”
“You’re certain that he would not escape somehow into the Forbidden Forest?”
I shrugged. “If he can get through the goblin enchantments, manage to avoid the wrath of the Lord of the Forest, who knows? But I think it is unlikely. Magorian has probably stepped up the patrols, informed what other sentient creatures he can, and is just waiting for a chance to tear Harry limb from limb. If you make a centaur an enemy, you have an enemy for life. It would be foolish to go into the Forest.”
Charlie sighed, and rubbed a large hand over his weary face. I wanted to ask about Malfoy, but Charlie bit his lip and turned his eyes away. Something was wrong…
“Mum is going to go any day now, Hermione. Every time Ron calls, I know its news that Mum is gone. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Did the War seem as hard as this, you think?”
My lips were quivering and I felt tears begin to spring from my eyes.
“I don’t know, Charlie. So many people died then…and so many have died this time. At least with Voldemort, you knew whom to fight. There was a much clearer delineation between who was right and who was wrong. We don’t have that luxury now.”
Charlie sighed, “I know, and that is what makes me sick, Hermione. The W.A.T.C.H. people…they want something to be changed, and not a change that can be done by petitioning or protesting, but something that can only be done by changing the past.
Malfoy’s told me what you believe about the timeline, Hermione, and I’m no quantum-whatever like you are, but I want to live my life knowing that I’ve worked to get to this point…even though Mum is dying, Ginny’s having an mental breakdown, and Dad is wearing out to nothing…I love this life.
That’s why we have to stop him, Hermione…no matter what!”
The tears were flowing down my cheeks at the intense emotion in Charlie’s voice. Just in the moments we had spoken through the Floo, I felt I had gotten to know Charlie Weasley much better. He was a passionate, caring man, just like so many of the men in his family. I loved the Weasleys; they were down to earth people, finding happiness in each other. I wondered how the Malfoys found happiness…I knew that they loved each other fiercely, and maybe it was just my unfamiliarity with them that made me feel I was still an outsider.
“I just wish there was a way to salvage Harry for Ginny’s sake,” Charlie whispered, gaining control of his emotions again.
“There’s nothing left to salvage, Charlie,” I whispered back, trying and failing to gain control of my own emotions.
“I know, as much as I hate to say or think it, I know. I just cannot understand this, Hermione…any thing that Harry’s done.”
I wiped my tears away. “Harry has been so abused, Charlie, and so much had been thrust upon him at a young age…there is no one in the world who could handle it all and come out unscathed after everything is said and done. Just think about it…you’ll understand.”
Charlie nodded and we did not say anything for a long moment.
“I wish I had more news…better news, Hermione.”
“It is a dark world, Charlie…”
“Yeah…” he whispered, moving his eyes to mine.
I tried to smile, tried to be reassuring, but I knew that I was in no position to reassure anyone about anything.
“Drink to the gods tomorrow night, Hermione,” Charlie said softly.
Beltane…
“I will, Charlie. Good night…” I whispered.
The Floo call ended, and I was suddenly very awake. I had curled up on the couch, gathering the pale green throw blanket to place over my cold feet. I sat for a very long time in the dark, staring at the embers in the fireplace.
I cried for hours, my fingers outlining the disc resting between my breasts under my nightdress. I cried for Charlie, I cried for all the Weasleys, I cried for Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Minerva, the centaurs, even the Dursleys, and I cried for myself…and I cried because I wished Malfoy was sitting next to me, telling me not to cry…teasing me. When I could cry no more, my body cold, I crawled back into Malfoy’s bed…the scent of him worn off the sheets where I had held it too tightly and rubbed my face too often.
I woke late.
As I stood mulling over my coffee in the late afternoon, the sound of hooves against hard packed ground made me move to the window. Narcissa slid off her horse lightly and stepped quickly toward the stables. I took one last sip of my coffee before she knocked on the door, entering.
I moved into the parlour as she looked all around, her lips parted, and I remembered that she had never been in the groom’s quarters before.
She stood in the small vestibule, distractedly shutting the door behind her. Narcissa was dressed in an uncharacteristically plain dress of pale green linen, a silver girdle belt about her thin waist. The sleeves were long and belled, and the collar was a simple scoop neck revealing her pale neck, shoulders, and prominent collarbone. She wore her hair free and it fell down her body like silver threads of silk, shining even in the muted light of the apartment. On her feet, she wore thin slippers matching her medieval dress. But what puzzled me were the markings on her arms and legs. It seemed to be silver painted runes, but I, with my love of ancient runes, could not decipher the repeating symbols.
“So many Muggle books!” she declared before noticing that I stood near her. “What sort of books are they?”
I stifled a laugh. “Fiction, mostly. Mostly all British authors.”
Narcissa made a strange face, which I interpreted as a type of sarcastic attempt at surprise. She moved to the kitchen and opened the pantry, seemingly satisfied that the enchantment was working. She peeked into the bedroom, and then into the bathroom. Coming back into the parlour she stood next to me as I leaned against the back of the old couch.
“It isn’t bad, it is very much Draco’s style, but I never thought it would be so small.
Do you like it, Hermione?” she asked, turning her eyes to me.
“It is about the same size as my cottage. I would make the bathroom a bit more…luxurious, but other than that I do like it,” I admitted.
Narcissa hummed to herself and gave the parlour another look before turning back to me.
“You haven’t forgotten that we make a bonfire tonight, did you, Hermione?” Narcissa asked me, barely containing a childlike excitement, grasping my hand suddenly.
I smiled. “Beltane. I haven’t forgotten.”
Narcissa smiled widely, and shoved her left hand into a concealed pocket in the side of her shift dress. She produced her wand and what appeared to be a shrunken package. Moving to the counter bar of the kitchen, she placed the shrunken item on the surface, and quickly resized it so that I found it was indeed a package. In fact, it was a clothing box, shiny blue on the outside.
“This is for you…for tonight.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
“Not a word, Hermione. Beltane only comes once a year, and this year is the first in a long time that the Malfoys have had a guest to help celebrate. Now go open it, I want to make sure everything fits…and then get you ready.”
I frowned, but moved to the box as Narcissa commanded. Pulling up on the lid and setting it aside, I found I was looking down at pale violet fabric that shimmered slightly in the light. I lifted the garment from the box so that the taffeta-like material fell toward the floor. It was a shift dress much as Narcissa’s except it was sleeveless. The material, which I knew was not taffeta for the fabric was far softer, but was not like satin or silk. The shoulders were gathered slightly, making the dress seem like a chiton…and I swallowed, remembering the dream…
“Pale violet is a wonderful color for you, Hermione…” Narcissa said distantly, moving to my side, her hand grasping the middle of the dress and pulling it close to my bared arm. The color did look nice with my pale skin tone…
“There are slippers in the bottom, and a silver girdle belt…we’re going to have to get started now to make it in time…” Narcissa mumbled.
I blinked, not understanding. When I would celebrate Beltane in the Forest, I did it alone, lighting a small bonfire wearing whatever I felt like wearing, and usually drinking a bottle of Firewhiskey to commemorate another solstice…
However, the Malfoys seemed to have their own traditions, so I did not protest when Narcissa ordered me to bathe while she set out the dress in the bedroom. She instructed me to not dress, but wear a robe and join her when I was finished.
By the time I left the bathroom, my hair still wrapped in a towel, I could tell Narcissa was growing impatient in her excitement. Taking me by the hand, she had me sit down on the edge of the bed, next to the dress, which shimmered slightly in the late day sun.
“No undergarments…and the necklace…”
I bit my lip…I would not ever consent to remove it.
“You can wear it if you must. Now…let’s do your hair first…” Narcissa said more to the towel on my head than to me.
I kept my lip firmly between my teeth as Narcissa pulled the towel away so that wet waves fell over my shoulders heavily. I closed my eyes as she pulled her wand to point it at my head and with a silent spell, cast magic on my hair that made my shiver. I was glad I did not have a mirror, but I could feel the hair lifting to stand in every direction and gentle tugs against my scalp. Narcissa hummed, pleased as the spell ended up and my hair fell again over my shoulders.
I opened my eyes, my fingers moving to the strands that had fallen over my arms. The hair had been braided into tiny plaits almost to my scalp…
“Very nice…you make me think of Bouddica…”
I cocked my head and frowned, but Narcissa began laughing. I remembered what Malfoy had said about Narcissa wishing he had been a daughter. I very much felt like the doll again.
“Next are the runes…now, my dear, you need to think of an image. It has to be something very important to you, maybe something you want…think of it very clearly, and I’ll do the spell.”
I frowned deeper. “What spell?”
Narcissa smirked…deviously.
“Malfoy family secret…but don’t worry, it is not going to harm you. You see the runes on my arms and legs?” Narcissa asked, pulling at the skirt of her dress to reveal the runes running up her thin, pale leg…and then pulling back her right sleeve to show me the same markings. “Women wear the runes…they mark your body and begin at your heart. The Malfoys have specific rites for men and woman for Beltane and Samhain…Imbolc and Lughnasadh are lesser events with rites that are lax… But for Beltane, we wear the runes that only Malfoy men can read. It can be symbolic for the wish of good weather, good fortune, love, family, etc. I have no idea how they are supposed to read the runes, but they can. I suppose it is something passed down from father to son, I only know how to cast the spell…”
I sucked on my lower lip again. I was having hesitations at being a part of a Malfoy family Beltane…
“Now…picture that important thing…if it is an abstract thought, associate the feeling with an image. Close you eyes…”
I complied, mostly curious at what the rune would look like…
“Picture it…” Narcissa whispered almost as a hypnotist would say to the one being hypnotized. “Picture it…”
I did not know what to ‘picture,’ but I asked myself what I wanted the most…
Love…Severus whispered.
And suddenly I felt magic dance across my skin, over my limbs, down my torso, over my breasts, around my waist…
“Interesting…” Narcissa mused, and I opened my eyes, the spell over.
I raised my bare foot from the floor as Narcissa stood again, dropping her wand into her pocket. Running from the top of my foot and up my leg were tiny dark green runes…all identical, and all foreign to me. The runes reminded me of the astrological symbol for Taurus the bull, but it was slightly different with several dots and a dash running through what would have been the head of the bull.
The runes looked more like freckles than marks, but over my heart, just at top of my left breast was the largest rune, and I shrugged slightly, looking to Narcissa.
“I’ve never seen these before, granted, even if I could remember all that had ever marked me, I still would not know what it means…oh well…I’m sure Lucius or Draco will tell us…”
I almost asked that Narcissa not mention it, I was half afraid at what the answer would be.
The next hour was spent getting me dressed, and the shift fitted just right. Narcissa was enjoying herself immensely, while I tolerated her attentions. I adored the woman, but I was never one to dress up in pretty clothes, let alone dresses…
After sunset, Narcissa Transfigured one of Malfoy’s books, Carl Jung’s ‘Man and His Symbols,’ into a full-length mirror, placing me stiffly before it, dressed in the whole outfit. What I saw in the mirror made me blink, and gape.
I had not been transformed into some pretty doll…I was myself. I wore no make up, no fancy clothes, and instead I found that the dress was not so elegant as I first thought, but simple and beautiful. My hair was pulled back into two silver combs, the braids falling down my back while near my scalp the unbraided hair twisted in intricate waves. My face had a clean creaminess about it and the pale violet of the shift offset my amber eyes so that it seemed my eyes glowed with a preternatural light.
The dress was warm and soft despite it having no sleeves, the collar dipping to the top of my unbound breasts. The silver girdle wound about my waist tightly; accentuating my natural hourglass shape, silver fringes hanging loosely at my left hip. The hem of the dress fell loosely about my ankles…and the matching slippers seemed too light to wear outside the apartment, but they were comfortable and warm. However, to finish the look were the runes tracing my limbs and trunk of my body. I looked like some half wild, half divine creature…a creature who could not be mistaken for anyone but Hermione Jane Granger.
Author:
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Suspense, romance, angst
Warnings: Character Death, graphic violence, madness, non-consensual sexual acts, abuse, oral, M/F, and overall darkness. Dark!Harry included.
Summary: DH-EWE: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible.
Author's Notes: This fic is in 1st person POV, so take heed. It will eventually be a DM/HG, but there is a squicky scene that might make you think otherwise. There is some non-con in this fic, so if it squicks you, don't read it for Merlin's sake! Comments and ConCrit is welcomed!
Quick Note: The Battle of Hogwarts takes place in the beginning of May, and just until recently did I find something on the Lexicon(shiver) that gives a specific date...and it is not May 10, 1998. I think it is earlier. However, for the purposes of this fic, the Battle of Hogwarts is May 10! Just thought I would point that out.
The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
Part 17
April 22nd was the first day I saw Narcissa since she left me in the kitchens, my familiar in her arms, after the attack on the Manor. It was early when I heard the distinct sounds of horses’ hooves, and looking out of the open front windows saw her staring up at me from the back of her dapple gray gelding.
“Come to the bothy, Hermione…” she had said when I went down to greet her.
It had been only the third time I had left the confines of the groom’s quarters. I had learned on my second excursion outside that two elves took care of the horses housed below my new little home. Pan and Sheff were the elf’s names, and they were not in the least bit personable. I did not bother worrying about the horses or their elfish handlers since then.
Narcissa slid down from her saddle-less horse and embraced me when I first approached, and I was struck at how warm she felt. She seemed much recovered from the events weeks before, and she glowed as we walked back to the paddock, letting her horse roam as we sat on the low stonewall in the shade of the trees.
“I know we should have been by sooner, Hermione, but between working with the elves to restore the Manor, and Lucius having to file complaints to the Ministry against those that attacked us, it has been a bit busy.”
I nodded. “You and Mr. Malfoy are not facing any sort of repercussions from using the Ki-…”
“Oh, of course not!” Narcissa interrupted, her pale eyes widening. “We were defending our home and our lives against criminals.”
“True,” I whispered, my eyes falling to Narcissa’s slippers and skirt. I smirked, knowing that she had ridden her horse without the benefit of a sidesaddle… “But I was still worried about that,” I added.
Narcissa grasped my hand, and we smiled at each other.
“But you need to come to the bothy with me, Hermione…”
I blinked in confusion at the excitement laced in Narcissa’s voice.
“It is Lucius’ birthday.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know if he would appreciate me being his birthday guest…”
Narcissa tried not to laugh, but said, “My husband would probably be glad, Hermione. Having only me and the elves to talk to has driven him a little…oh, I’ll just say it…he’s being a prat.”
I snorted a laugh. I could imagine what Narcissa meant…if Malfoy was any indication on how the men of the Malfoy family acted when they were bored or annoyed…
“Your coming is really more for me than him, anyway…” Narcissa muttered, patting the back of my hand.
I smiled, feeling very happy that someone like Narcissa Malfoy wanted me. In another time, I would have never imagined that Narcissa would be talking and sitting with me like a friend. It was strange what the Fates dealt a person, but on the account of Narcissa, I did not mind.
I asked if I should wear something different from the skirt and black blouse I wore the day Malfoy and I sat on the balcony, and Narcissa laughed and said that I looked fine enough to join her and her husband for a birthday lunch. I blushed slightly…Narcissa wore a two piece dress that reminded me of something from the Victorian era with a dark blue bodice, a high lace collar and matching skirt that was slightly bustled in the back. She wore her hair in almost the same manner as I, pulled from the temples in a loose braid over the rest of her beautiful pale hair. It was hard to believe she was old enough to be my mother…
“A gift?” I ventured meekly.
Again Narcissa laughed, her voice like twinkling bells, “Unless you have been able to sneak past Draco’s wards and go to London to shop, you and I both will be giving only the gift of our company, my darling.”
I smiled as Narcissa, again, squeezed my hand.
After deciding to walk to the bothy, which Narcissa told me that a shortcut through the forest would shave off a half hour, I moved to the front of the stables, using my wand to shut the windows. I did not bother Summoning my coat, the late April day sufficiently warm.
Narcissa and I walked hand in hand through the fields. She left her horse to graze where it liked, telling me that if she needed the intelligent gelding, it would come at her call.
“You should have Draco teach you to ride, Hermione.”
I shrugged as we turned into the forest.
“You know he has not been back for days…” I started, but trailed, our feet seemingly to find a path carved between the roots of the large white trees.
“I know. Have you been afraid by yourself?”
I shrugged again. “I have lived a little more than eight years alone in the Forbidden Forest, and even then I had to worry about werewolves, manticores, and a three headed dog encroaching on my home…”
“What about the centaurs?” Narcissa asked, her face conveying her curiosity.
“I have a truce with them…and now…a friendship, after Harry killed some of their herd.”
Narcissa nodded, “Yes, Draco told us…” she said darkly, and I could sense that she was barely containing her anger at the idea of a wizard killing centaurs. I wondered what type of affection Narcissa had for the centaurs that she seem so angry, but I did not ask.
I never pried into her matters, and I was still learning that if Malfoy’s mother wanted to impart some information to me, she would do so in her own time…but not wait too long to do so. I was very fond of Narcissa. She was the opposite of every preconceived notion I had of her as girl, and this fact delighted me.
We walked through the trees, sunlight lighting patches of our path. The only other time I had been in the forest has been the night I dreamt of the Palace of Knossos, and then I was not aware that I had been in the forest at all. And when the Malfoys and I had escaped deeper into the trees the night of the attack, I had been so anxious that I did not notice the character of the forest. Nevertheless, as we walked, I could feel that this forest was not so different from the one I called my home. It was a magical forest; that much was certain. I could feel old power under my feet and in the massive white bark trees that seemed like columns around us.
“Did centaurs live in this forest?” I asked, my voice airy as my eyes moved along the floor of the forest and over the dark soil and dead leaves.
Narcissa hummed to herself. “They still do…”
I glanced to her, surprised.
“In the southern reaches, they only come into this part on special occasions…Beltane, Midsummer, Samhain…all the important days. They have lived in this forest as long as the Malfoy family has lived here.”
I cocked my head, “Do you speak with them?”
Narcissa laughed. “Of course. Not often, but Lucius and I have several times since we have been married.”
“Are they friendly?”
She squeezed my hand. “In their way they are. I do not know what the herd is like in the Forbidden Forest, but this forest…what the centaurs call Temple Wood, the herd is friendly to the family, but the centaurs have their own ways and we never interfere.”
I hummed to myself as Narcissa and I stepped over a particularly thick, white root.
“I obey the laws of the Forest, and never cross the boundaries…” I said softly.
“That is the way of centaurs. You must never impose yourself, and you must always be respectful. Centaurs can be great allies, or great enemies…the Dark Lord found that out,” Narcissa mumbled, her eyes growing distant.
I agreed with her, hoping to draw her thoughts away from the old times.
“You don’t have any malignant beasts in your forest?”
Narcissa shook her head. “Lucius’ grandmother wanted to introduce manticores to thin out the Thestrals…needless to say she was not a very bright woman and his grandfather quite wise.”
I smirked. “I haven’t seen any Thestrals…”
“They stay near the centaurs, for some reason, but there are a few near the bothy. Do you see many in the Forbidden Forest?”
“Many. They stay near the school grounds…where Hagrid feeds them. He shouldn’t, but Hagrid is just so…so…caring in a manner that is almost harmful.”
Narcissa said nothing, and I remembered then how Lucius had campaigned for Buckbeak’s execution. I knew I could not feel anything but the warmest love for Hagrid, and I would not apologize for my care for him to even someone like Narcissa Malfoy whom I had grown to admire and care for a great deal.
Our conversation continued on…the trees…the brooks…and other wildlife of the forest. It was not long until the forest path led us into downland of more rolling hills of green. We moved along the edge of the forest until the downland became more rugged, and to a deep vale, surrounded my thick black bark trees, was the bothy.
We had walked at least forty-five minutes, and the bothy laid another ten minute walk from the edge of the forest, the terrain sloping upward into the vale. The bothy, from the outside was almost like my cottage, built into the deepest part of the vale with chalky limestone walls, a wooden roof, and stone chimney coming from the shingles. The bothy looked smaller than even my cottage, and there was not a single window. Compared to the groom’s quarters, the bothy was a hovel.
Narcissa released my hand and pushed upon the low door, smiling mischievously. I prepared myself, for, I did not know what, when I followed her inside.
And then, I knew I should have known better to judge the humble bothy by its outside walls. The Malfoys were a Wizarding family.
The inside of the bothy, as Narcissa closed the door behind me, was at least as big as the foyer of the Manor and nearly as high inside. It reminded me of ancient castle halls that I had seen in films as a little girl. Enchanted stained glass windows ran on either side of the hall, and in the far back was a fireplace, that was bigger than any I knew in Hogwarts, with a raging fire. There were curtained sections for the Malfoy’s bedroom with an ancient four-poster bed large enough to sleep at least two small families, and a bathing area with a large tub and water closet tucked into a far corner. There was even a kitchen with a smaller fire, built much like my cottage kitchen with stone counters. But in the middle of the hall was a luxurious common area with medieval style couches and chairs, tables and chests. Hanging from the timbered ceiling were wrought iron chandeliers with what seemed like millions of enchanted candles.
All in all, I had stepped into the Malfoy home of the tenth century…complete with armor and tapestries on the walls. It was nothing short of breathtaking.
Lucius sat in a chair near the fire, reading a book, his booted feet upon a low stool. He had a pair of glasses perched on the end of his patrician nose, and his face was perhaps the most unguarded as I had ever seen it. Lucius Malfoy was a handsome man at fifty-three.
“Ah, Miss Granger…did ‘Cissa drag you through the forest for my birthday?” he drawled as Narcissa and I approached.
Slipping his glasses from his nose and setting them inside his book, which I was amused to see was Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers,’ he rose to his feet, smiling faintly.
I smirked. “I’ve been invited for lunch.”
Narcissa grinned mischievously. “I told her that my company, and Leak’s jokes were getting to you…and also I would not have to suffer you being a ‘prat’ on your birthday, I brought her for company for us both.”
I wanted to snort, but bit the inside of my cheek instead.
Lucius, however, laughed. “I am afraid to learn the truth, Miss Granger, so let us have lunch and talk about other things besides my birthday…”
I found that lunch with the Malfoys was very enjoyable. Both Malfoys were interesting to converse with, both very intelligent and articulate. We spent our lunch, of fantastic French cuisine, laughing. I never imagined that I would laugh with Lucius Malfoy. Again, in another time, it would have seemed impossible. As we talked, I began to see where Malfoy picked up his mannerisms. Lucius was sarcastic and at times cryptic, while Narcissa spoke almost in verses. It was hard to believe many times that either Malfoy was ever involved with Voldemort…and even though I kept that thought in the back of my mind, I still enjoyed their company and grew to like them…even Lucius.
When lunch was over, Lucius informed me that the bothy was indeed the first Malfoy hall…built when the Malfoys came in the seventh century. It was uncertain how ‘Norman’ the Malfoy family was, but Lucius believed that the Malfoys were not actually from France, but came earlier with the Viking invasions…later taking a more ‘Norman’ name in the eleventh century. From the bothy, the seventh century Malfoys began claiming the adjoining forest and downlands, setting up intricate wards that existed into the twenty-first century.
“With Potter and his followers, I am still trying to see how much damage was done to the original wards. Through the centuries every Malfoy heir has added their own protections, and to be honest, the weakest point was at the gates leading to the Manor…”
I frowned, but Lucius assured me that the lands were safe from Muggles and outsiders for the time being. The wards were fortified every equinox and solstice, family rites were made on a nearby hillside where stones had been erected even before the Malfoys came to Britain, but were used by the family since it was a point of magical power.
“Nothing like the nearby henges, but enough to keep my lands intact and the family safe…” Lucius said softly as the three of us drank tea.
I found Lucius’ accounts of the Malfoys quite interesting…the forest, the bothy, and the Manor all were pieces that had stayed in the Malfoy family for generations. I could see how Malfoy could be so proud…
“And your family, Miss Granger? Do Muggle-born witches and wizards keep records of their family and their lands?” Lucius asked, making sure to sound as unbiased as possible, for my sake. I found his efforts comforting.
“Some do, I am sure. Some Muggles make a hobby of genealogy, but as for me, I did some research in school, out of curiosity. I found that I had ancestors who were wizards, but magical ability seemed to skip generations, appearing here and there through time. My closest magical relative is a great, great, great, great grandfather…on my father’s side. He was a Granger from Ayrshire, and he went of Hogwarts. He was a Ravenclaw.
After that, it seems that there were no magical children, and magic was not something known or talked about.
From what I could piece together, my family, the Grangers, were in Britain since the fourth century…and I found my first magical relative in the earliest records of Hogwarts…another paternal grandfather,” I paused, and then said very clearly, “He was a Slytherin.”
Lucius smirked, and I smiled back. I knew Lucius would be quite amused with the fact that I had a relative, albeit many generations before, was a Slytherin. Of course, not many people would appreciate this bit of my family history…the Weasleys would have found it ghastly news…
“No Hufflepuffs?” he asked.
I shook my head. “The few magical relatives I had who attended Hogwarts were everything but a Hufflepuff.”
“That is comforting,” Lucius laughed, and Narcissa pretended to scold him. I could only laugh with him.
My magical and Muggle heritage was not as important to me because I had never been raised to cherish it like many of the people I had as classmates. I loved my small family, and I loved that I was a witch, but the importance of blood purity and family lineage were not something instilled in me as a girl.
We talked of other things, books, in particular, until Narcissa realized how late the day was becoming. I was in no hurry to go back to the groom’s quarters until Narcissa mentioned that a Floo call might come, and that she was sorry to have kept me for so long.
I ended up being escorted back by Lucius.
He did not take my arm, nor did I want him to. Even though we had talked easily, I was still not entirely comfortable with the man.
The sun was getting lower on the horizon as we walked through the forest at a quicker pace than Narcissa and I had. I did not mind.
“Let me be frank, Miss Granger…” Lucius said as he watched me step over the large root Narcissa and I nearly had to climb over earlier in the day.
I nodded.
“I did not like the idea of you in my home, at first. However, now that I know more of you, and more of the circumstances of what Potter has been doing, I must admit that I would not have had anyone else by my son’s side.”
I paused in our walking and blinked at him. Surely, I was misinterpreting Lucius’ words. He continued walking, not noticing my confusion, and I had to jog to catch up.
“You are a very intelligent young woman, resourceful and, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, very Slytherin.”
I smirked.
“I realize that Potter is…or was, very close to you, but I can see that this attachment has not clouded your judgment. I also know that my behaviour toward you and your friends has made you view me with great aversion. I will not apologize for my actions, and I know that it might anger you.
However, I will say that if I had not done exactly what I did, I would not be the man I am today. And hopefully, the man I am today is not totally one that you view with biased contempt.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but said nothing, closing my mouth again with a snap.
“It is my hope that my son will never make my mistakes. And he nearly did, several times. He carries the same Mark as I, and that is the biggest regret I carry. Please do not judge Draco as you would judge me, Miss Granger.”
Finally, I spoke.
“Judgments change, Mr. Malfoy, as do emotions. My memory is very keen, but the pains I felt ten years ago are fading. Time heals many wounds, but not all. We must learn from those wounds.
I have forgiven you long ago, as I have forgiven so many others. The old times are just that…old…and hopefully to be overcome.
I am indebted to you and your wife…and your son for my life. This kindness will not be forgotten, however.
I will admit, Mr. Malfoy, that I am wary of you because of past actions, but I am not going to stupidly ignore your wisdom and experience. I am not one to hold a grudge…it takes too much energy away from more constructive matters. There is no merit to hating, fearing, or being resentful toward you, Mr. Malfoy.”
Lucius did not pause, but smiled…a true smile.
“If only others thought as you did, Miss Granger.”
I breathed a laugh as we came upon the end of the forest path. We walked in silence into the fields, the sunlight streaming through the white trees in a red and gold cast of light. At the yards of the stables, Lucius paused and turned to me, his face softened as if I had uttered some magic word so that I was seeing his true face for the first time.
“Miss Granger, I would like to tell you something that I would like you to promise to keep to yourself.”
I cocked my head, but nodded.
“My son…Draco…it may seem to you that years ago I was quite harsh in handling his welfare. I assume, being the bright young woman you are, it might seem that those actions were inspired by my care of him…to protect him in the most brutal manner. And with my harsh manner, I had, in almost every way, failed Draco. I have tried for ten years to make up for my failures, and after ten years, I am beginning to feel as though I have protected him as a father should protect his beloved child.
But he is a grown man now, and my protections can only go so far. I cannot protect his pride when he feels a failure, and I cannot protect his heart from being broken…
Miss Granger, I am concerned as to the source of your feelings toward my son. Surely, you have considered your feelings toward him, from where they spring and why…
I just do not want you to hurt him when you might suddenly realize you only feel for him because he has saved your life, or because he has protected you. So, I will just ask now.
Do you care for my son because of recent events? Do you view him as a ‘knight in shining armor?’ Or are your feelings for him based upon something more than your need for Draco to protect and maintain your survival?”
I narrowed my eyes and shifted my weight slightly. Lucius was a quick study, I had to give him that. Moreover, he was straight forward whereas Narcissa whittled the truth out of me, bit by bit.
I had to answer Lucius. His questions stemmed from his love for his son, and I could not dance about the question or lie. Lucius was being very honest, so I also had to be very honest in return.
“Mr. Malfoy, I have known your son for many years, and although I had not seen him between the Last Battle and Minerva McGonagall’s funeral, I found him to be very changed from the boy I knew. Your son was my tormentor at Hogwarts, and I resented him. However, after nearly ten years, I have found him to be very much a ‘like’ mind.
The questions you have posed to me, I have asked myself many times. You assume that I have feelings for Mal-Draco, and I admit that I do… It is not just because he has saved my life many times over, or that he has risked his life to protect me…those things just add to how I feel about him.
The day Harry attacked us at the Ministry; I thought I had lost Draco. I was prepared to avenge his death by killing the man who had been my best friend. I could not lose Draco, I could not go on alone…”
I choked on my words, lowering my eyes to the ground…but took a deep breath and met Lucius’ eyes again.
“I cannot honesty say that I love Draco, because I really don’t know what that kind of love is…I have not experienced it yet. But I know that that day, I was ready to fight, and possibly be killed because I thought Draco was dead. And ever since then, whenever we have to run, whenever we have to fight, he is the first thing I think about…even before my own survival. I don’t want him to protect me forever, I want to fight beside him, prove to him that I am not weak…prove that I care for him not to need to be protected.”
I stopped, knowing that I was going to begin repeating myself, because these were the sentiments that repeated through my brain every day.
Lucius gazed back at me, his unguarded face shifting so that he smiled and turned his eyes away and to the fields.
“I feel safe when I am near him, which I never would have felt ten years ago. I love sitting with him, drinking coffee, and bantering about what is happening to all of us, or what had happened years ago. I want to be near him, I want to talk to him, and these last few days have been awkward without having him to speak with…and be near,” I said softly.
Lucius turned his pale eyes to me again.
“When all of ‘this’ is over, I will still want to talk to him and be near him in some manner. I know this because it is just not ‘want’ I feel…I enjoy being near him, talking to him…” I finished.
Lucius and I stared at each other for what seemed a long while, until, finally, Lucius grinned and I automatically put myself on guard, out of habit.
“Does he know all of this?”
I breathed a laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know. Draco teases me too much and it makes it difficult to read his feelings.”
“He learned that from his mother,” Lucius muttered, but held his soft smile. “Why is it that you call him by his surname? Narcissa was curious as well.”
I smirked. “He calls me ‘Granger.’ I don’t think I have ever heard him say my name…”
Lucius chuckled, moving into the stables, I followed, stepping onto the stairs as Lucius took a horse from its stall and mounted without the need of a stirrup.
“You should try saying his first name, and see what happens, Miss Granger.”
I shrugged. “If he ever comes back…”
“Oh, he’ll be back…most definitely for Beltane. Now that he’s an adult he is required to be here for Beltane. And now that you are under Malfoy protections, you are required to witness the rites, Miss Granger… It is a rare privilege,” Lucius said, seeming to use his knees to guide his mount nearer the bottom of the stairs. “Narcissa will surely tell you all about our traditions for Beltane…I just hope that nothing happens before then…” he finished darkly. “I bid you a good night, Miss Granger. My birthday has certainly proved enlightening.”
With that last, somewhat cryptic statement, Lucius raised a hand and goaded his mount to take off from the tables like a streak of white, Lucius holding to the mane and egging the horse faster.
I could only smile smugly at the senior Malfoy as he disappeared across the field. I turned and made my way up the stairs and into what had become my temporary home. I drew my wand to light the candles and stoke the fire. I moved to prepare a small dinner and eyed Douglas Adams’ ‘So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish’ resting on the arm of the couch…
I wondered, suddenly, what Malfoy thought of Zaphod Beeblebrox.
April 30th I was drinking coffee in the kitchen although coffee might have been considered inappropriate in the late afternoon. I had awoken late, for the night before, the klaxon on the Floo sounded as I was sleeping, and I rushed to the fireplace.
Charlie Weasley’s face greeted my sleep-fogged vision. He looked as tired as I felt, and I sat on the floor with heavy eyelids, listening to his words that were slow to sink into my brain.
“Bones’ dying words have led us on a wild goose chase. Although we managed to round up more members of W.A.T.C.H., we’ve come to a dead end. We have searched Little Hangleton from top to bottom…the old Riddle house and the caretaker’s house have remained empty for the past thirteen years…the cemetery had nothing… To be honest, Hermione, we have searched every known location of Voldemort in Britain…and Harry’s travels during his schooldays. There’s nothing.”
I nodded. “I am not entirely surprised. He hid with Dudley Dursley for weeks without notice, and there is no where else in the Muggle world that would be familiar to him.”
“But it still does not mean that he could be hiding among Muggles.”
“True,” I conceded, but felt it was very unlikely.
“W.A.T.C.H. have their own safe houses, and of course, we cannot torture these people for locations, but we have to check everything…even the obvious places.”
I sighed. “I cannot think of an specific place he might go, Charlie. I just know where he could not be.”
“You’re certain that he would not escape somehow into the Forbidden Forest?”
I shrugged. “If he can get through the goblin enchantments, manage to avoid the wrath of the Lord of the Forest, who knows? But I think it is unlikely. Magorian has probably stepped up the patrols, informed what other sentient creatures he can, and is just waiting for a chance to tear Harry limb from limb. If you make a centaur an enemy, you have an enemy for life. It would be foolish to go into the Forest.”
Charlie sighed, and rubbed a large hand over his weary face. I wanted to ask about Malfoy, but Charlie bit his lip and turned his eyes away. Something was wrong…
“Mum is going to go any day now, Hermione. Every time Ron calls, I know its news that Mum is gone. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Did the War seem as hard as this, you think?”
My lips were quivering and I felt tears begin to spring from my eyes.
“I don’t know, Charlie. So many people died then…and so many have died this time. At least with Voldemort, you knew whom to fight. There was a much clearer delineation between who was right and who was wrong. We don’t have that luxury now.”
Charlie sighed, “I know, and that is what makes me sick, Hermione. The W.A.T.C.H. people…they want something to be changed, and not a change that can be done by petitioning or protesting, but something that can only be done by changing the past.
Malfoy’s told me what you believe about the timeline, Hermione, and I’m no quantum-whatever like you are, but I want to live my life knowing that I’ve worked to get to this point…even though Mum is dying, Ginny’s having an mental breakdown, and Dad is wearing out to nothing…I love this life.
That’s why we have to stop him, Hermione…no matter what!”
The tears were flowing down my cheeks at the intense emotion in Charlie’s voice. Just in the moments we had spoken through the Floo, I felt I had gotten to know Charlie Weasley much better. He was a passionate, caring man, just like so many of the men in his family. I loved the Weasleys; they were down to earth people, finding happiness in each other. I wondered how the Malfoys found happiness…I knew that they loved each other fiercely, and maybe it was just my unfamiliarity with them that made me feel I was still an outsider.
“I just wish there was a way to salvage Harry for Ginny’s sake,” Charlie whispered, gaining control of his emotions again.
“There’s nothing left to salvage, Charlie,” I whispered back, trying and failing to gain control of my own emotions.
“I know, as much as I hate to say or think it, I know. I just cannot understand this, Hermione…any thing that Harry’s done.”
I wiped my tears away. “Harry has been so abused, Charlie, and so much had been thrust upon him at a young age…there is no one in the world who could handle it all and come out unscathed after everything is said and done. Just think about it…you’ll understand.”
Charlie nodded and we did not say anything for a long moment.
“I wish I had more news…better news, Hermione.”
“It is a dark world, Charlie…”
“Yeah…” he whispered, moving his eyes to mine.
I tried to smile, tried to be reassuring, but I knew that I was in no position to reassure anyone about anything.
“Drink to the gods tomorrow night, Hermione,” Charlie said softly.
Beltane…
“I will, Charlie. Good night…” I whispered.
The Floo call ended, and I was suddenly very awake. I had curled up on the couch, gathering the pale green throw blanket to place over my cold feet. I sat for a very long time in the dark, staring at the embers in the fireplace.
I cried for hours, my fingers outlining the disc resting between my breasts under my nightdress. I cried for Charlie, I cried for all the Weasleys, I cried for Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Minerva, the centaurs, even the Dursleys, and I cried for myself…and I cried because I wished Malfoy was sitting next to me, telling me not to cry…teasing me. When I could cry no more, my body cold, I crawled back into Malfoy’s bed…the scent of him worn off the sheets where I had held it too tightly and rubbed my face too often.
I woke late.
As I stood mulling over my coffee in the late afternoon, the sound of hooves against hard packed ground made me move to the window. Narcissa slid off her horse lightly and stepped quickly toward the stables. I took one last sip of my coffee before she knocked on the door, entering.
I moved into the parlour as she looked all around, her lips parted, and I remembered that she had never been in the groom’s quarters before.
She stood in the small vestibule, distractedly shutting the door behind her. Narcissa was dressed in an uncharacteristically plain dress of pale green linen, a silver girdle belt about her thin waist. The sleeves were long and belled, and the collar was a simple scoop neck revealing her pale neck, shoulders, and prominent collarbone. She wore her hair free and it fell down her body like silver threads of silk, shining even in the muted light of the apartment. On her feet, she wore thin slippers matching her medieval dress. But what puzzled me were the markings on her arms and legs. It seemed to be silver painted runes, but I, with my love of ancient runes, could not decipher the repeating symbols.
“So many Muggle books!” she declared before noticing that I stood near her. “What sort of books are they?”
I stifled a laugh. “Fiction, mostly. Mostly all British authors.”
Narcissa made a strange face, which I interpreted as a type of sarcastic attempt at surprise. She moved to the kitchen and opened the pantry, seemingly satisfied that the enchantment was working. She peeked into the bedroom, and then into the bathroom. Coming back into the parlour she stood next to me as I leaned against the back of the old couch.
“It isn’t bad, it is very much Draco’s style, but I never thought it would be so small.
Do you like it, Hermione?” she asked, turning her eyes to me.
“It is about the same size as my cottage. I would make the bathroom a bit more…luxurious, but other than that I do like it,” I admitted.
Narcissa hummed to herself and gave the parlour another look before turning back to me.
“You haven’t forgotten that we make a bonfire tonight, did you, Hermione?” Narcissa asked me, barely containing a childlike excitement, grasping my hand suddenly.
I smiled. “Beltane. I haven’t forgotten.”
Narcissa smiled widely, and shoved her left hand into a concealed pocket in the side of her shift dress. She produced her wand and what appeared to be a shrunken package. Moving to the counter bar of the kitchen, she placed the shrunken item on the surface, and quickly resized it so that I found it was indeed a package. In fact, it was a clothing box, shiny blue on the outside.
“This is for you…for tonight.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
“Not a word, Hermione. Beltane only comes once a year, and this year is the first in a long time that the Malfoys have had a guest to help celebrate. Now go open it, I want to make sure everything fits…and then get you ready.”
I frowned, but moved to the box as Narcissa commanded. Pulling up on the lid and setting it aside, I found I was looking down at pale violet fabric that shimmered slightly in the light. I lifted the garment from the box so that the taffeta-like material fell toward the floor. It was a shift dress much as Narcissa’s except it was sleeveless. The material, which I knew was not taffeta for the fabric was far softer, but was not like satin or silk. The shoulders were gathered slightly, making the dress seem like a chiton…and I swallowed, remembering the dream…
“Pale violet is a wonderful color for you, Hermione…” Narcissa said distantly, moving to my side, her hand grasping the middle of the dress and pulling it close to my bared arm. The color did look nice with my pale skin tone…
“There are slippers in the bottom, and a silver girdle belt…we’re going to have to get started now to make it in time…” Narcissa mumbled.
I blinked, not understanding. When I would celebrate Beltane in the Forest, I did it alone, lighting a small bonfire wearing whatever I felt like wearing, and usually drinking a bottle of Firewhiskey to commemorate another solstice…
However, the Malfoys seemed to have their own traditions, so I did not protest when Narcissa ordered me to bathe while she set out the dress in the bedroom. She instructed me to not dress, but wear a robe and join her when I was finished.
By the time I left the bathroom, my hair still wrapped in a towel, I could tell Narcissa was growing impatient in her excitement. Taking me by the hand, she had me sit down on the edge of the bed, next to the dress, which shimmered slightly in the late day sun.
“No undergarments…and the necklace…”
I bit my lip…I would not ever consent to remove it.
“You can wear it if you must. Now…let’s do your hair first…” Narcissa said more to the towel on my head than to me.
I kept my lip firmly between my teeth as Narcissa pulled the towel away so that wet waves fell over my shoulders heavily. I closed my eyes as she pulled her wand to point it at my head and with a silent spell, cast magic on my hair that made my shiver. I was glad I did not have a mirror, but I could feel the hair lifting to stand in every direction and gentle tugs against my scalp. Narcissa hummed, pleased as the spell ended up and my hair fell again over my shoulders.
I opened my eyes, my fingers moving to the strands that had fallen over my arms. The hair had been braided into tiny plaits almost to my scalp…
“Very nice…you make me think of Bouddica…”
I cocked my head and frowned, but Narcissa began laughing. I remembered what Malfoy had said about Narcissa wishing he had been a daughter. I very much felt like the doll again.
“Next are the runes…now, my dear, you need to think of an image. It has to be something very important to you, maybe something you want…think of it very clearly, and I’ll do the spell.”
I frowned deeper. “What spell?”
Narcissa smirked…deviously.
“Malfoy family secret…but don’t worry, it is not going to harm you. You see the runes on my arms and legs?” Narcissa asked, pulling at the skirt of her dress to reveal the runes running up her thin, pale leg…and then pulling back her right sleeve to show me the same markings. “Women wear the runes…they mark your body and begin at your heart. The Malfoys have specific rites for men and woman for Beltane and Samhain…Imbolc and Lughnasadh are lesser events with rites that are lax… But for Beltane, we wear the runes that only Malfoy men can read. It can be symbolic for the wish of good weather, good fortune, love, family, etc. I have no idea how they are supposed to read the runes, but they can. I suppose it is something passed down from father to son, I only know how to cast the spell…”
I sucked on my lower lip again. I was having hesitations at being a part of a Malfoy family Beltane…
“Now…picture that important thing…if it is an abstract thought, associate the feeling with an image. Close you eyes…”
I complied, mostly curious at what the rune would look like…
“Picture it…” Narcissa whispered almost as a hypnotist would say to the one being hypnotized. “Picture it…”
I did not know what to ‘picture,’ but I asked myself what I wanted the most…
Love…Severus whispered.
And suddenly I felt magic dance across my skin, over my limbs, down my torso, over my breasts, around my waist…
“Interesting…” Narcissa mused, and I opened my eyes, the spell over.
I raised my bare foot from the floor as Narcissa stood again, dropping her wand into her pocket. Running from the top of my foot and up my leg were tiny dark green runes…all identical, and all foreign to me. The runes reminded me of the astrological symbol for Taurus the bull, but it was slightly different with several dots and a dash running through what would have been the head of the bull.
The runes looked more like freckles than marks, but over my heart, just at top of my left breast was the largest rune, and I shrugged slightly, looking to Narcissa.
“I’ve never seen these before, granted, even if I could remember all that had ever marked me, I still would not know what it means…oh well…I’m sure Lucius or Draco will tell us…”
I almost asked that Narcissa not mention it, I was half afraid at what the answer would be.
The next hour was spent getting me dressed, and the shift fitted just right. Narcissa was enjoying herself immensely, while I tolerated her attentions. I adored the woman, but I was never one to dress up in pretty clothes, let alone dresses…
After sunset, Narcissa Transfigured one of Malfoy’s books, Carl Jung’s ‘Man and His Symbols,’ into a full-length mirror, placing me stiffly before it, dressed in the whole outfit. What I saw in the mirror made me blink, and gape.
I had not been transformed into some pretty doll…I was myself. I wore no make up, no fancy clothes, and instead I found that the dress was not so elegant as I first thought, but simple and beautiful. My hair was pulled back into two silver combs, the braids falling down my back while near my scalp the unbraided hair twisted in intricate waves. My face had a clean creaminess about it and the pale violet of the shift offset my amber eyes so that it seemed my eyes glowed with a preternatural light.
The dress was warm and soft despite it having no sleeves, the collar dipping to the top of my unbound breasts. The silver girdle wound about my waist tightly; accentuating my natural hourglass shape, silver fringes hanging loosely at my left hip. The hem of the dress fell loosely about my ankles…and the matching slippers seemed too light to wear outside the apartment, but they were comfortable and warm. However, to finish the look were the runes tracing my limbs and trunk of my body. I looked like some half wild, half divine creature…a creature who could not be mistaken for anyone but Hermione Jane Granger.