The Sweetest Sin

Chapter 18: Unexpected

That night, Hermione slept through a series of fitful dreams that involved Draco suddenly turning into a giant glass snake when she kissed him and Pansy and Kathryn being engulfed in emerald green flames while a full-grown Tommy stood by and laughed. When she awoke in the morning, the previous evening's events weighing heavily on her mind, she found to her surprise that Pansy was sitting on the end of her bed looking as nervous and disarrayed as ever.

Blurting out the first thing that came to mind, Hermione asked, "What are you doing here?"

Pansy looked up from her clasped hands at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Oh, you're awake."

Instantly, the realisation of the reason why Pansy had come to visit came to Hermione. With a sinking feeling, she remembered, Pansy saw what happened last night.

"Yes, I saw," said Pansy softly, once again giving Hermione the impression that she could read minds. The corners of her lips were twitching, but Hermione couldn't tell whether or not it was because Pansy was restraining a smile or a frown.

"Then you --"

"I've been waiting for this, Hermione. I knew he loved you from the moment I saw him look at you the first night at dinner." Pansy let out a hollow laugh. "I've seen that look in his eyes only once, and that was with --"

"With Iris," finished Hermione. She was clutching her sheets, anxiously twisting them in her hands as she added, "But he doesn't love me...he loves her. He loves the Iris he sees in me. I'm a Muggle-born -- a Mudblood -- so he could never love someone like me."

"You do realise though," continued Pansy without interrogating Hermione about why she knew so much about Iris, "that this means Draco could be forced into a very bad situation. Muggle-borns and purebloods are never supposed to mingle. Never."

Hermione stared, dumbfounded, at Pansy. Why was she taking the news of her husband having supposedly fallen in love with a servant so easily? How could she even believe something so far-fetched? And if she seemingly had no objection to it, why did she look so distressed?

"B-but I don't love him..."

"Even you know that's not the entire truth."

"I could never --"

"I may not know you very well, Hermione, but I know you have a heart that can love even through all he's done and even through all that's happened to you."

"He raped me!"

Hermione gasped and both of her hands flew up to her mouth. She had uttered the words without even thinking, and now she had to fight back the impulse to slap herself for letting her mouth run away with her. Almost fearfully, she watched Pansy, waiting for her reaction to this news.

"He has raped every Mudblood and half-blood witch who stepped into this mansion. You have to understand that this is the situation you've been thrust into -- not because of who you are, but because of what you are. I would have thought you would have grasped this concept by now; you were always so smart."

"How can you even speak of it so casually?" asked Hermione forcibly, furious that Pansy didn't seem to care about what Draco had done to her and his other servants.

"Because every servant of your blood I have met seems to accept it. At times I feel pity, yes, but nothing can be done to change these practices."

"You think it's just the physical pain we have to experience," said Hermione coldly, still burning with anger. An image of Jeanne holding her baby on the dirty streets of Mudblood Town flashed into her mind and for an instant, she felt the throbbing pain she could still recall vividly from the first time a pureblood had forced her into his bed. The fragmented memories only fueled her rage. "You think we have accepted it. No one human can ever accept being treated like that."

"And yet, would you consider yourself human anymore?"

When Hermione did not answer, Pansy continued. "What I'm telling you is what I have observed. It doesn't mean I hate you like I know you expect me to, because I don't. Do you remember what I told you that night in the garden?"

"You told me that you'll never be good enough for him and that you sometimes pray someone more beautiful and kind than you will come and steal Draco's heart."

"I meant what I said. I forgot how to be arrogant after Blaise left me, but I forced myself to keep the pretence of being so for the sake of retaining the haughty image I had so tediously built for myself. Yet at the same time, I lost all self-confidence, all self-assurance...everything that once made me me. You're the only person who knows me for who I really am now." Pansy's mouth hardened into a set line before she diverged back to their conversation. "I have no trouble accepting the fact that this person could be you."

"But he raped me!" exclaimed Hermione, ignoring Pansy's brief anecdote. "Do you think I could love someone who has hurt me in such a way? I've taken such abuse from people like Blaise, people who I loathe more than anything else. What makes Draco different?" Hermione paused, breathing heavily, then added, "You said it yourself, he has raped every Muggle-born and half-blood servant of his. I'm no different to him."

"And you said it yourself as well: he sees Iris in you. In that, you differ from the others."

"So he doesn't love me! And as I've told you a million times, I don't love him. Him and I could never be together, nor would I want us to be." As Hermione completed her words, however, she found herself avoiding Pansy's eyes. The twinges had returned, along with the feel of Draco's lips on hers from the night before. Her stomach gave a lurch as she recalled the latter.

Pansy sighed, then said resignedly, "It doesn't matter. I came down here to ask a favour of you." She grimaced, as if the idea of asking a servant a favour was physically hurting her.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, relieved that the topic had changed.

For a moment, Pansy looked uncomfortable, as though she didn't want to say anything. However, after a few seconds, she muttered, "The Dark Lord is considering branding Thomas with the mark."

Hermione gasped. The injustice of their earlier conversation was entirely forgotten as she exclaimed, "What?!"

"He...he feels that Thomas is old enough to join the Death Eaters."

"But he's only four!"

"Five now," corrected Pansy dully.

"Still," argued Hermione, "that's not nearly old enough to become a Death Eater."

When Pansy replied, Hermione was surprised to find that her pale cheeks were shining with tears.

"I can't stand the fact that he might become one of them. I've seen how their loyalty to the Dark Lord, how their way of life, ruined Draco. I don't want it to happen to my son too."

"What do you want me to do then?" asked Hermione quietly, although she was almost certain she knew the answer to her question already.

Pansy turned to look at Hermione. Her blue eyes, still filled with tears, begged Hermione to listen as she answered, "You can change Draco. You're the only one who can make him try to save Tommy."

Hermione hesitated, and Pansy, seeming to sense her reluctance, immediately began speaking again in a rush of words. "Hermione, please, please, just do this for me. You saw what Draco was like in sixth year after he became one. I know you don't love Thomas like I do, but even you don't think he's old enough to receive the mark. If Draco were to interfere with the Dark Lord's decision, there may be a chance of saving him. Otherwise...otherwise --"

Pansy broke off there, apparently too choked up to continue. For a few minutes, the room was filled with the sound of her sobs while Hermione uncomfortably looked on, frantically trying to think of a way to comfort the hysterical woman next to her.

I can't do it, Draco would never listen, I could get killed for trying to interfere in something I have no business in.

But Pansy obviously knows Draco best, a tiny voice somewhere in the back of her mind pointed out. If she thinks you could change his mind, then you might be able to.

It's not my business, Hermione argued back, I can't ask Draco something like that!

Since when have you been afraid to fight for something you think is right? You're obviously strongly against Tommy being branded with the mark, and if you have a chance to prevent that from happening, why not take it?

At this, Hermione gave in. "I'll try," she said shakily.

"Will you?" gasped Pansy between loud gulps for air. She looked up, her tear-filled eyes suddenly glimmering with hope.

"I can't guarantee anything. I will do it...I will do it only because I'm your servant."

"Do you swear on punishment of release?"

Hermione gritted her teeth and replied, "Yes."

Pansy gazed at Hermione for a few moments, the flow of tears suddenly stemmed, then at last nodded. It was a nod of understanding, a nod that sealed their deal. Without thanking Hermione, Pansy stood up and turned to leave.

"Oh," she said suddenly, halting and turning to look at Hermione again. "Draco wished for me to bring you this."

Extracting her wand from her robe pocket, Pansy pointed at the corner of the room furthest away from her and murmured, "Accio parcel."

At once, a simple-looking cardboard box flew out of the dusty shadows and into Pansy's hands. She gave the package to Hermione with a small smile, then tucked her wand back into her pocket, turned around, and ascended the stairs.

When Hermione heard the door shut behind Pansy, she turned her attention to Draco's latest gift. No doubt it was another elaborate robe. However, after the kiss the other night, Hermione had a hard time grasping the fact that Draco even wanted to send her anything. Shouldn't he be furious or disgusted that he had engaged in some sort of romantic activity with a Muggle-born servant, someone considered no more desirable than a sewage rat?

Sure enough, when Hermione managed to untie the coarse string around the parcel, she found a deep purple robe lying neatly folded at the bottom of the box. However, it was not the beautiful robe that caught her eye this time; instead, her attention was immediately drawn to a folded sheet of paper lying on top of the silken fabric. Hermione took this out, unfolded it, and read:

Hermione,

Meet me in the room tomorrow -- that is, November 28 -- evening.

Draco.

P.S. - Look at the top button of the robe when you get the chance to.

Dropping the note on her bed, Hermione pulled the robe out of the box. She shook it out and paused for a second to take in its extravagance. Unlike the other robes she had received from Draco, this one was heavily decorated; beads and sequins traced sparkling floral shapes across the hem, sleeves, and neckline. The buttons running down the robe were square and wooden. Following the instructions Draco had given her in the note, Hermione brought the top button up to the light to examine it.

There, carved into the dark brown wood, was the crude outline of an iris.