Chapter Text
November 9, 2014 | 6:03 a.m. |
Draco exhaled slowly as he handed Granger a mug of coffee with cream and sugar, and kept the black cup for himself as he sat down next to her. They were in the sunroom off of the greenhouses since people didn’t tend to congregate there.
“Thank you,” Granger replied before putting her feet up on the coffee table. An annoying habit of hers. It was a sign that she was more comfortable existing here, and so he tried to swallow the irritation.
I need to replace every one of these with an ottoman.
Feet do not belong on tables.
Especially not with shoes.
When he noticed the dirt on the bottom of her shoes he forced himself to look down at his coffee instead. Gods he hated mornings.
| 6:10 a.m. |
“Victoire seemed more relaxed after the obliviation yesterday,” Granger said stiffly. He realized they had gone a long time without saying anything.
Draco looked her way and contemplated asking the question that he had been stewing on for well over a year at this point. With a slow exhale, he began.
“Okay there’s never been a good time to ask this and I’m starting to think there never will be…” Her eyes widened and she looked a little worried.
“But I’ve been dying to know for ages now,” he continued. “How do you do it?”
She tipped her head and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Do what?”
“The obliviation. With such detail, and over so much time like your parents. And suggesting severely altered memories like in the bank. That’s not how obliviation works. It’s supposed to remove chunks of time, not things or people from otherwise intact memories—and you’re definitely not supposed to be able to alter them. And how the fuck do you manage to do it without breaking people’s sanity?”
Once he started asking the question he apparently couldn’t shut up.
“Oh,” she replied. Like he had just asked her how to brew a cup of tea. As opposed to asking how she managed to harness the power to dictate people’s perception of the world at any given moment.
She summoned a piece of parchment and a quill, and began mapping out how she used the content she was deleting as her way into someone’s mind, and then subsequently took inventory of the surrounding details of a memory, allowing her to alter memories or remove only the details instead of entire blocks of time.
In her parents case she used the common detail (herself) to fish through the chain of their minds and memories to find all other memories pertaining to her existence before removing herself and leaving the remainder of their life intact.
| 6:41 a.m. |
Somewhere along her explanation surrounding how she managed to convince her parents of alternate names during the war, and subsequently return them, Draco scoffed loudly. He had been in too much shock to make any sound earlier.
“That’s legilimency.”
“What? No. It’s not. I’ve just managed to push the standard bounds of obliviation.”
“By using legilimency.”
“I’m not a legilimense!” She snapped.
“Legilimency,” he pointed to the parchment. “Legilimense,” he gestured to her.
“I’ve never used that spell successfully! And I’ve always used obliviate for my spell prompt.”
“Granger,” he said tersely, “You’re fully aware of the fact that the spells are not the literal and only function of said task. They are just Latin incantations to create structure and focus, particularly for dangerous tasks.”
“Obviously. But my intent has never been to use legilimency on someone.”
“Your intent was to fish through their head. Same thing.”
She blinked at him.
“Oh gods,” she said quietly before covering her mouth in horror. “Oh gods!”
He smirked.
“Wait. But I’m an awful occlumense. I’ve tried to learn that before and failed miserably!”
Draco shrugged.
“Not everyone is good at both. Occlumency requires you to have the capacity to suppress your emotions.”
“I’m not good at that.” She chewed on her thumb nail.
“Shocking,” he said with a smirk and she snapped her head back to him and glared.
“Legilimency requires curiosity and a strong will. You should practice getting in someone’s head while they are occluding.”
“What’s the use of being able to get into someone else’s head if I can’t defend my own?”
He shrugged.
“The best defense is an overwhelming and violent offense.”
Her eyes widened.
“Meaning?”
“If the wrong person is unlucky enough to try to fish in your head, they’re perhaps not as fortunate to keep their sanity intact.”
Her eyes widened even further.
“Oh. Oh.” She looked down at the floor, and he bit back the impulse to laugh at the fact that she clearly found the prospect more intriguing than ethically questionable.
I knew you were fucking psychotic.
| 6:02 p.m. |
Katie was on the sofa when Ron got home, hands folded and pressed to her forehead in a manner that made him nervous.
“Is everything okay?” He asked.
She hesitated.
“I don’t know how to say this…”
He braced himself.
He wasn’t sure if this was about to be a fight.
Hermione?
No. For once Katie actually seemed fine with Hermione. Apparently Draco’s presence assisted with that particular pain point.
“It’s not safe here,” she said quietly. “After the last few attacks… I can’t justify staying.”
Ron’s stomach dropped.
“You’re leaving?”
She sighed and looked away.
“Mum is muggleborn. With dad gone, it’s just me. I… I can’t risk something happening to her. We’re going to New York.”
Ron grimaced.
“Borders are tight right now.”
“I found a way out. But we don’t have a lot of time.”
He stared at her.
“You know I can’t come with,” he said, voice cracking a little. His family was here. His friends were here. He couldn’t just leave them all behind.
“I know. I’m not asking you to. I just… I wanted to say goodbye.”
She looked down at the floor now.
“Will you come back?” He asked.
She shrugged.
“Dunno yet. Maybe. Eventually. Best to not dwell on that though. I think it’s probably time that we move on…” she grimaced, and guilt prickled in his chest.
“I don’t want this to be over,” he said quietly.
She shrugged.
“Think of it as the best possible ending,” she gave him a kind smile. “Loads of relationships either end in tragedy or in some sort of disastrous fallout. We could have done worse.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek briefly.
“Honestly, I’ve had fun with you. But I think we both know this was never meant to be. It’s fine.”
It was very much not fine, but he bit his tongue.
They exchanged more goodbyes and a long kiss before she retrieved her bag and fled. She left most of her belongings, and yet the flat felt disconcertingly empty once she was gone.
Fuck.
November 10, 2014 | 11:13 a.m. |
Bill clenched his jaw as he watched Victoire wander down the Hogsmeade path again, hand in hand with Teddy and following close behind Charlie.
Fleur was stiff next to Bill with her arms crossed. She had been anxious about her returning to school, and they fought about it several times over the last few days.
“The house isn’t safe enough. My wards are good but nothing compared to that school. She wants to go back. While the session is still on, she should be there,” he said stiffly.
“Have you gone mad? The wolves broke through those wards!”
“They won’t again. There’s more silver in them now.”
“That doesn’t mean something else can’t get in.”
“They’ll definitely get in here if someone goes after her!” He barked, gesturing around the living room.
“I thought you were the one that didn’t want her there!”
“I wanted you all in Paris away from all of this. But she can’t go to France now,” he bit out.
Fleur bit her lip.
“No. She can’t.”
“Would you like some tea?” Luna asked, snapping him out of his daze as they stepped back into the Holly House. “The water hasn’t collected many sun sprites yet. But we can make do.”
Bill looked over to see that she had left a tea kettle in the windowsill, and was retrieving it to place on the stove.
Merlin, she’s weird.
He still wasn’t entirely sure what Charlie saw in her. She was pretty, but she had the disconcerting demeanor of someone who shared a consciousness with something either inhuman or ethereal. Even if you looked her directly in the eye it was hard to tell if she could see you.
“No thank you,” Fleur replied. “We better be getting ‘ome.”
He wasn’t entirely sure why she would turn down the offer since she liked Luna and didn’t have any substantial plans for the day, but he didn’t argue. When they got home, he retrieved a few notes along with a cursed pocket watch that needed to be brought back to the stones.
“You’re leaving?” She said, eyes flickering down over him as he tucked things into his pockets.
“I’m supposed to be in the stones with Harry and Astoria.”
Fleur’s mouth tightened slightly.
“More wand training?”
He nodded.
He had been sparring with goblins alongside Harry as a number of them learned the basic functions of the new wands. And depending on how much energy Astoria had after working on wands in the forges, they might return to Gorm’s cave to review her work on the floo.
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure yet. It might be late.” They hadn’t been down there in days due to the werewolf incident. They were bound to be held up by something.
Fleur nodded once and turned toward the kitchen as he stepped into the fire.
| 9:12 p.m. |
“How’s Victoire?” Harry asked as he took a sip of the black liquor. Gorm looked curiously at Bill.
“Isn’t that your girl’s name?”
Bill shrugged in acknowledgment.
“She’s alright. She was eager to go back to school,” he replied, trying to dismiss the subject.
“Yeah well, she and Teddy both. He’s been relentlessly asking about her,” Harry remarked.
Bill shook his head.
“Yeah Meda had to practically drag him out of the cottage the morning after everything.”
“What happened, exactly?” Gorm asked.
“Werewolf attack at the school.”
Gorm scowled.
“She was bitten?”
Bill ground his teeth as he nodded. Astoria caught that he didn’t want to discuss it and switched the subject, for which he was grateful.
“Harry, are you going to let me see that wand yet?”
“What? No. You have your own wand. And thousands of others if you’re wanting some variety,” he replied, holding his wand close to his chest in mock offense.
It was bizarre banter they had been having more frequently lately. Bill didn’t understand the running joke so mostly just disregarded the argument.
“I just want to see it!”
“Why?!”
Gorm similarly rolled his eyes and poured another glass of liquor as he picked up a piece of parchment outlining Astoria’s latest arithmancy theories.
The chatter lasted for a few more hours, devolving further and further from work as the evening progressed. Gorm showed them all how to play a game with steel dice, and Astoria won every round, prompting an argument between her and Harry. Harry in particular was more lighthearted than usual. Then again, he always was after being down here.
“Are there any updates on the goblins being held at the prison?” Gorm asked, sobering the room. Harry scratched the back of his head.
“No. I don’t think they have any intention of releasing them.”
Everyone went home shortly after.
November 11, 2014 | 1:42 p.m. |
Theo turned on a dime when Hermione landed in his living room.
Not today, bitch.
“Theo!”
“Not here.”
“I need help.”
“Last time you asked for my help I got five citations and had to pay nearly six thousand galleons in fines! Do it yourself.”
“Come off it and help me. I’ll give you the money if that’s the issue.”
“Wealth is insufferable on you. My reputation is also at stake!”
She rolled her eyes.
“I need to know who the parchment supplier is for The Daily Prophet.”
“Why? Also can’t you figure that out yourself?”
“Obviously. But since you already know, it’ll save me time.”
He replied with the requested information. Easy enough.
“What are you doing?” He asked cautiously. The Prophet had been wildly evasive about the recent Hogwarts attack, mentioning the tragedy in a brief article only once and not including any specifics about the number of victims or that anyone had died.
She gave him that smug smile she always wore when she got dirt on someone and was planning to blackmail them.
“You’ll see.”
November 12, 2014 | 8:03 a.m. |
Draco unfolded the paper and was briefly concerned when the contents on the page vanished.
Odd.
Ink fanned out again on the page moments later with detailed accounts of the Ministry’s negligence, illegal activity, assassination attempts, and details surrounding the werewolf attack—exposing the cover up. They had been trying to dodge details for days now.
Granger.
He smirked and re-folded the paper.
November 14, 2014 | 4:23 p.m. |
Bill was on the sofa with Fleur, repairing a pair of boots while she pressed nightlock flowers when Percy’s face made an appearance in the floo.
“Oh thank gods, stay where you are. Everyone is safe. But it’s urgent. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Fleur stiffened and dropped her press plate as Percy vanished again. She jumped to her feet and Bill reached out and grasped her wrist before she could run into the fire.
“He said everyone is safe.”
“But what if—“
“He’ll be here in a minute.”
Bill was also having a hard time breathing but pretended to be assured for Fleur’s sake.
Not two minutes later, Minerva McGonagall emerged instead, and Fleur turned white.
“Oh thank Merlin,” the old woman muttered.
“What’s going on?” Bill asked, standing to greet the old witch and gesturing for a nearby chair. Fleur was holding onto the arm rest so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“More belligerent bigotry. There’s been a rather drastic change to the laws on werewolf transformations. They’re now mandated to be held in a secured space during a full moon, no exceptions.”
Bill’s heart leapt into his throat. That would certainly explain Percy’s urgency.
“Like a cell?” Fleur asked, voice breaking.
McGonagall nodded sadly.
“I’m afraid so. For most that will mean checking themselves into the wolf institutions during the moon.” The old woman’s lips tightened indignantly. “I assured them that the Hogwarts dungeons are safer than any institution, and informed them that any auror sent to retrieve miss Weasley for the moon will have to first break through the protective wards placed to contain her.”
Bill had never in his life had the impulse to hug Professor McGonagall. The impending inevitability was interrupted by Percy’s appearance.
“Oh bloody hell. So you all know now?”
Bill nodded.
“We can’t just lock ‘er up in a cell! She’s a child!” Fleur cried.
Minerva waved a wrinkled hand dismissively as she pursed her lips.
“The word ‘cell’ is a bit pointed. The dungeons are where the Slytherin common rooms are. We’re putting wards and silver around the staff suite in case one of those imbeciles decides to have an inspection. Blaise will have to post up in his office for the time being.”
Fleur remained furious.
“She’s a child!”
“A child who is a hell of a lot better off than some other werewolves here,” Percy barked.
“Has Draco sent the wolfsbane yet?” Bill asked, feeling anxious about making sure that detail was at least sorted out.
“Miz Malfoy brought the contraband with on her last visit,” McGonagall replied tartly. Bill nearly laughed at the reference to Hermione’s married name, which hardly anyone used. For varying reasons of course, only sometimes having to do with disliking Draco.
Once everyone was gone again, Fleur dropped her head in her hands.
“She’s a child,” she said again.
“She’ll be okay.”
“They’re going to lock ‘er up for the night like a criminal. Even with the wolfsbane!” She snapped angrily.
“It’s a bedroom, not a cell. She will be perfectly comfortable. We had already intended for her to spend the moon in the hospital wing. This isn’t much different.”
“The principal of it is!” She said with bared teeth. “In the ‘ospital she would be treated as a sick person. She’s being caged like an animal!”
Bill didn’t know what else to say.
She’ll be safe at least.
November 12, 2014 | 7:12 p.m. |
Teddy groaned and thumped his head down onto the book. He was good with transfiguration naturally, but he wasn’t a good reader, and found himself easily bored.
“Thank Merlin,” Victoire muttered. “You’ve been staring at that for nearly two hours. I'm bloody bored.”
Has it been that long?
He glanced at the clock.
Yep.
Okay so maybe his focus was a little better than he thought. To be fair, the stakes on this were pretty high. Especially since they found out that she wouldn’t even be able to spend the first moon in the hospital wing with company. She would be locked in the dungeons alone for the night. Even with the wolfsbane.
So bloody stupid…
Victoire tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and jumped to the same side of the table as him now. Some of the pink had grown out, and the haircut in general was a little shaggier now than it had been last spring.
She leaned in and kissed him, which he eagerly accepted. She hadn’t been particularly affectionate since the attack, but had been a little more comfortable since having her memories altered. The subject made Teddy uneasy. He had an inkling at this point of what happened but he was too afraid to ask.
She withdrew a few moments later, looking reasonably content, and her eyes flashed an amber-gold hue when she blinked.
“Woah!” He gasped, sitting up straighter and pointing to her face.
“What?”
“Your eyes.”
She furrowed her brows.
“What about them?”
He tried to remember the color as best he could, and shifted his irises from blue to amber.
Her eyes widened, flashing amber again in return and she pulled his forearm up abruptly and bit him.
“What the hell?!” He snapped, yanking his arm back. “Ow!”
Her face was bright pink and she covered her mouth with her hands, mortified.
“I’m sorry!”
“What was that?!” He cried, lifting his forearm which had distinctly red teeth marks, and was bleeding a few places. “You’ve always been weird but that hurt!”
Actually it didn’t hurt this particular second. It felt a little warm was all.
That’s weird.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Her eyes were still amber, but she looked a little miserable for a moment.
“Is something going to happen to you now?” She asked, sounding a little nervous.
He furrowed his brows.
“What? No. It’s just weird! Like, weirder than you having a tail,” he mumbled as he looked under a few books for his wand which he already misplaced.
Victoire reached for hers instead and rolled her eyes as she cast a quick charm to stop the bleeding.
“You’re rubbish with healing charms anyway.”
He lifted his arm when she was done and held it up to her.
“Apparently so are you. You left a scar.”
She glanced at his arm and her eyes flashed amber again as she shrugged.
“Whoops.”
“Whoops?! Fix it!”
She kissed her index finger and brushed his forearm patronizingly.
“No.”
She pulled his sleeve down over it.
It was definitely pleasantly warm.
Strange.