Return to Eden

Return to Eden

Chapter 20: A Mark of Opportunity

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she was startled to find herself alone in the bed and being aware of Draco's highly emotional state the night before, a million horrifying thoughts accompanied by rightful fears flew through her mind without halting. Her worries, nonetheless, were put to rest when the sound of showering drifted in from the adjoining bathroom.

Realizing her foolishness and sudden need to jump to conclusions, Hermione slipped out from underneath the sheets and set about to getting dressed for the day. Draco wasn't the type to throw himself off a tower, martyr he was not, and judging from last night's display, he was beginning to deal with the loss. It had been the first time since the accident that he'd let her embrace him for any period of time. That had to be progress, right?

Also, the presence of Blaise's child seemed to having a calming influence on him, and Hermione knew that Draco would go to any lengths to see her protected. Changing Madison's eye color from blue to gray indicating him as the father proved that. Even so, Hermione was concerned. Keeping the baby here, at Malfoy Manor, would prevent anyone from detecting her, but what would happen when she grew older?

Just as she was starting to believe that everything would be okay, nearly convincing herself of the belief, Draco was in the other room plotting ways to make sure it wasn't. Things were now set in motion he had no possibility of stopping, and he wasn't about to sit around and let it catch up to him. A war was imminent, silently bubbling up around them from the horizon like an eager volcano, but the first strike would be crucial. He had theories and ideas, but at the moment, he didn't have the resources to carry much out.

His first priority, of course, was to conceal Madison. That baby had already been through enough with losing her mother; he'd be damned if she was suddenly put in the middle of a custody battle on the off-chance the Weasleys found out. He knew they'd rather die than let one of their own stay for a second in the care of the Malfoys and would fight tooth and nail against them. Even if Fleur was outraged by Bill's indiscretion before the wedding, it wouldn't change anything. They would stop at nothing to take her away from him.

Then, there was this guardian business to think about. For some reason, he seemed to understand that he wasn't supposed to talk about it. After all, telling Hermione would ruin the surprise of her finding out. Besides, wouldn't it just be admitting to her that somebody else would die? It was probably best to keep it to himself.

Therein lay his next problem. If he and Hermione were so important to what was interpreted by the Three Powers as a shift in power, what did that mean for their very new relationship? Draco wasn't blind or ignorant; there was definitely some measures going on that could possibly come between them. The odds were against them, and he knew that, but it didn't mean he wouldn't fight to keep her.

His main concern was if everyone tried to go back to the small sense of normality they'd had before Blaise's death had knocked everything completely off-balance. Denial was not in Draco's plans for the very near future and just thinking about it brought a bitter taste to the back of his throat. The war would happen sooner or later, but he found that he preferred sooner.

Putting a jump-start on the war was risky, but Draco felt like it was the only way to comb through all the issues and hardships currently plaguing the wizarding world. Things would only get worse before they could get better, and he was perfectly willing to take that chance. In a war, sacrifices had to be made, even if they came at a high price. He knew this and realized what had to be done.

Pushing all these negative thoughts to the back of his mind, Draco turned the water off and stepped out of his shower stall. A flick of his wand and his hair dried into its usual strands, falling over his forehead in a light fringe. He grabbed up the clothes he'd set out and dressed quickly. After giving himself the once-over in the mirror, he exited the bathroom and came face-to-face with the brunette girl who'd been occupying his thoughts.

"Morning," she greeted him pleasantly.

Noting her fresh appearance, he deduced that she'd showered in her own bathroom across the hall. He lifted an eyebrow in greeting at her seeming cheerfulness.

On the brink of a teasing remark, his face turned somber as he remembered what awaited them that morning. Hermione saw the change go over him and the first tinges of anxiety permeated through her good mood. Taking him by the hand, she glanced over and gave a weak smile. "Are you ready for this?"

At his nod, they set off towards the breakfast room where Lucius and Narcissa would be waiting for them, anticipating the explanation of both Blaise's death and the baby. Neither was looking forward to it.

----

"Let me get this straight."

"Okay."

"You were fascinated by me after I saved the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"Yes."

"Then this fascination escalated to appreciation after third year?"

"Again, yes."

"But Malfoy found out and forced you to keep it quiet, saying he would turn the Slytherins against you if he ever got wind of it again?"

"Yes, Harry."

"And when he did notice it again in sixth year, it was now outright obsession, and he pressured you into turning in your prefect's badge, which you eventually did, claiming it got in the way of your studies?"

This was getting tedious. "YES."

Harry shook his head in complete amazement. "I never knew."

Pansy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at his entirely obvious statement. "That was kind of the point, you know. For you to never find out. I was terrified of Draco," and still am she added silently to herself, "and besides, I didn't know how you would react."

The boy appeared positively sheepish as he twisted his hands in his lap. "I have to admit I probably wouldn't have taken it very well."

"I know," she said shakily as she lit up another cigarette from her pack.

Thinking over all that he'd learned over the past few minutes, righteous indignation rose up within him for her sake, and he could feel empathy for this Slytherin start to develop. Gently, he tucked a stray corkscrew curl behind her ear and gazed upon her down-turned face with new understanding.

Taken aback by the uncharacteristic gesture, she glanced up at the young hero, her eyes wide and her mouth struggling to form words. Her mind was trying to piece together why he wasn't backing away from her or simply dismissing it as another Slytherin plot. He's actually listening.

Only one question was prevalent in his mind. "Why did you tell me?"

Pansy cut her eyes away trying to stall the answer she knew was inevitable, but her sight landed on the Gryffindor patch adorning his wool cloak and a sharp tingle went through her. It was a reminder to her commitment; she'd put this crazy thing into motion and now it was time to follow through.

Directing her sapphire gaze back to meet his emerald one, she chose her words cautiously. "Because I trust you and I want you to return the favor." A determined glint was now shining in her eyes, which reminded Harry very much of a certain brunette Head Girl when she was at her most stubborn. "You need me."

A single brow lifted at that, and he surveyed her with mounting suspicion. "Oh really. And why is that?"

"Think about it. I'm a Slytherin, and with my inside knowledge, you could triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before he even knew what was happening. You'd become an icon of the wizarding world, and more of a legend than you already are. Every child would look up to you and you would be admired by all." She spoke quickly as she appealed to the weakness in every man, his ego.

But Harry would not be so easily won. "I've been famous for over six years now and I've had about as much as I can take, thank you very much." Getting up to leave, he wondered why he'd been so dense to believe anything that came from a Slytherin when he felt her hand clamp down on his wrist putting an end to his departure.

Pansy was nothing if not unwavering in her campaign, and she knew it would be done for if she allowed him to walk away right in this moment. It had to be now. Keeping her hand around his wrist, she stood from her place on the bench and leaned over to speak in his ear causing her breath to brush against the sensitive skin and make the hairs on his neck stand on end.

She gave him her most flattering smile. "Yes, but I can make you infamous."

A very familiar spark lit up behind his eyes that Pansy had no trouble identifying. It was, without a doubt, the best kind of ambition, the tenacious and unforgiving kind. Gotcha.

As the blonde girl metaphorically reeled in her fish, Harry had visions of eminence dancing in his head. "What did you have in mind?"

----

Things had been very odd lately, to say the least.

Ginny knew this, and even in spite of the peculiarities, the school seemed to return to some sense of normality. But at the same time, there was an underlying tinge of foreboding in even the most mundane activities that made her want to cower under her bed.

Not that she'd ever admit it.

She'd just received another letter from her father that had her more frustrated with her family than ever. Why couldn't they see it was Ron's own fault that he was where he was? It wasn't some great plot or giant conspiracy the Malfoys had cooked up to dirty the Weasley name; he killed that girl. He deserved serious punishment, not to be let off the hook with a slap on the wrist. The first shades of estrangement coiled within her heart, rooting themselves there in wait.

And she was worried about Hermione. She hadn't been able to talk with her much this year, and Ginny felt that she had failed her as a friend. Hermione could have really needed her with all that had happened, and Ginny hadn't been there for her. Now, with the subsequent return to Malfoy Manor after Blaise's death, Ginny wasn't sure when she would see the brunette witch again. Yet another reason why she was worried. Even though Hermione was a pureblood now, did she really want to associate with the Malfoys so much, regardless of her relationship with Draco?

Ginny didn't know what to think anymore.

The sweet scent of morning air was just what she needed right now to clear her mind and begin to sort through the many events racing within it. As she turned the corner leading into the hall containing the entryway to the Astronomy Tower, her destination, she jumped nearly three feet in the air when Luna appeared before her, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Hello, Ginny," she said in her low, singsong voice, eyes dancing with distractions. She fiddled with the ends of her blonde hair as she rocked back and forth on her heels, waiting for a reply.

Ginny studied the other girl with a carefully guarded expression. "Luna. What are you doing up so early?"

Luna smiled. "Oh, I had duties this morning." She continued to rock to a rhythm only she could hear. Suddenly, something in the distance caught her eye, and she stared at it over Ginny's shoulder.

Ginny looked behind her, but saw nothing. "What is it, Luna?"

"Oh, nothing." A brilliant smile appeared on the blonde girl's face in hopes of reassuring her redheaded friend. "Just something I remembered."

Confused and a little bit wary, Ginny turned back to the Ravenclaw. She was acting stranger than usual this morning. "Well, I'll see you later in Charms. I hope Flitwick won't give us another essay to do."

The redhead tried to make her exit as she crossed past the blonde, continuing on her path to the Astronomy Tower, when the other girl reached out and seized her elbow. Stunned by the aberrant gesture, Ginny immediately halted. Luna was looking at her with wide, fearful eyes and it made her feel afraid herself.

"Where are you going?" the blonde asked in a higher-pitched voice than usual.

Ginny tried to twist out of the grip Luna had on her but was unsuccessful. "I'm just going up to the Tower to clear my head."

If Ginny hadn't been watching the other girl's face, then she would have missed the way Luna's eyes widened even further by only a fraction. Then, resolve took hold, and the lines of the blonde's face turned grim.

"I can't let you go up there," she ordered in the most determined voice she'd ever used. It felt strange to try and sway someone when she wasn't being her usual dreamy self, but this was important.

Ginny blinked. "To the Astronomy Tower?"

"Yes." Luna glanced around as if she was sure the walls were listening in on their conversation. "Only bad things will happen if you go up there."

The Gryffindor shivered with ominous chills, and in that moment, Ginny just knew. She'd known for a long time, of course, that Luna saw things differently than everyone else, but she didn't know she could actually see them. And she'd never mentioned anything about herself before.

"What do you mean? What did you see?" the redhead asked anxiously.

The blonde shook her head in the mysterious manner she had perfected. "It doesn't matter. But you can't go to the Astronomy Tower, Ginny. You're too critical."

Ginny nodded as she focused completely on her Ravenclaw friend. "What should I do then? Please tell me. What am I supposed to do?"

Luna smiled softly. "Go back to your room and talk to him, the one you've kept under lock and key away from the eyes of friends and family."

The redhead's eyes looked like they would pop right out of her face. "You knew about that?" she asked in a voice lower than a whisper.

The blonde just continued to smile as she gave Ginny a slight push in the direction of Gryffindor tower. Ginny shook her head, trying to force everything into her brain as she turned to leave, but when she glanced back, Luna was gone.

Trying to shake off the sinister impression bearing down on her, Ginny walked quietly back to her dorm room and headed straight to her jewelry box. The room was clear of other occupants, all of them being in the bathroom going through their morning routine.

She lifted the top lid of the ornate, cherry piece, a gift from Seamus during their interlude together, and took out a charm bracelet. Dangling from one of the links was a miniature key, perfectly camouflaged with the other silver charms. She unhooked it from its hiding place and did a quick Finite Incantatem on it to bring it back to its original size, which wasn't very large to begin with.

Ginny turned the jewelry box around revealing a locked drawer in the back she had added herself. The silver keyhole of the lock gleamed back at her, and she recognized the severity of what she was about to do and the possible consequences that could follow. Steeling herself against the wave of oncoming doubts, she put the key in its counterpart and turned.

Hearing the corresponding click of the lock, she pulled out the drawer. Lying upon the red velvet lining was the very few real jewelry she had, but she ignored it and opted to dump them on her desk surface. Her attention was drawn to the drawer itself and she reached in, tugging at the lining until the bottom section wrenched free. Innocently resting underneath it pressed against the wood was a single sheet of parchment.

Though benign in appearance, Ginny knew what it was, what it meant, and she tried not to shudder too much as she picked it up. She'd taken it all those years ago not knowing what had possessed her to do such a thing, and she'd kept it a secret from everyone. She'd only used it once before, in which she discovered he could no longer hurt her. The spell keeping his memory contained was far too badly weakened to siphon energy from her.

She just had to remember that as she sat on her bed and searched for a quill in her bag. Finding one and an inkpot, she loaded the tip with the black liquid and prepared to accept her fate. The redhead took a deep breath as she scratched her first words across the blank sheet.

I need to talk to you, Tom.

----

Later that same day, the students were all gathered in the Great Hall enjoying the delicious meal set out before them by the Hogwarts house-elves. It had only been a day and a half since the departure of the Head Boy and Girl, but their absence was felt by every person in the school.

Three spots were kept empty at the head of the Slytherin table, and throughout the duration of the meal, students continued to glance at them every so often, everybody suffering the damage.

At the same time, everybody was on edge. The downcast Slytherins were feeling their isolation from the rest of the school even more, and their resentment of the Gryffindors grew by leaps and bounds.

The Gryffindors themselves seemed disturbed by the occurrence, but were unwilling to look past the rivalry to come to the aid of their fellow schoolmates. Lines had been drawn in the sand long ago by their parents' parents, and it was too late to kick them away, for fear of the dust drawing up and blinding everyone.

Cautiously, the crimson teenagers watched their emerald foes knowing they would face off one day and not everyone would survive. They sized each other up thinking, 'Will I kill this person someday?' Not all of the answers would be yes, but they knew, felt it like the looming upheaval, that in some cases, it would be.

The Ravenclaws sat off to the side, cool, calculating, and aloof. It was too soon to tell which side would be the victorious one, and therefore, no time to show favor to one or the other. If none of their own were involved, then they wouldn't let themselves get pulled into the commotion. Remaining detached was how former wearers of the blue and bronze lived through wars in the past, and it was a clever plan, utterly befitting of a Ravenclaw.

The Hufflepuffs, however, were worried. They were not brave like the Gryffindors or clever like the Ravenclaws and by no means were they cunning like the Slytherins. The only thing they knew how to do was work hard, but that wouldn't mean much when the fragile seams keeping the school together tore apart. And maybe because they were the house cared about the less, they could feel it the most. Just one more crack and the rickety house of cards keeping everything in place would come tumbling down all around them, pitting student against student.

Not much conversation was flowing around the tables with all the tension in the air, but when Professor Severus Snape crashed through the doors, striding decisively towards the Hufflepuff table, the agitation rose tenfold.

He'd finally gotten in to see Dumbledore after his last class of the day and told him his findings. The older man had been saddened to say the least and not a little apprehensive about Snape's impatience to finger the blonde girl. After painstakingly examining the Potion Master's results, Albus admittedly found no room for error.

Snape was outraged, afterwards, when the headmaster suggested devising a suitable punishment for the girl besides expelling her. They argued for a while over it, but then Severus reminded him of the promise given to the Malfoy boy.

"You wouldn't want to do anything to upset Draco, now would you Albus?" Snape looked absolutely malevolent as he said his next words. "Think of the legend."

It was then that the wizened wizard conceded, giving Snape permission to dismiss the girl home. To which Snape went about doing, gleefully. Damn Hufflepuffs were too cheery, anyway.

As soon as he reached his intended victim among the table of yellow and black, every head in the hall was turned in his direction. Trying not to make too much of a scene, he grasped the arm of the blonde girl, wearing her hair in two plaits today, and tried to steer her away from her comrades.

"Miss Abbott, you are coming with me."

"Now, wait just a minute, Professor Snape," Ernie Macmillan had jumped up from his seat and grabbed onto Hannah's other arm, stopping the man from leading her away. "What has Hannah done?"

"Something very serious and frankly, none of your business, Macmillan." Snape glared down at him. "You will sit back down and eat your food, if you know what's good for you," he said menacingly.

Swallowing nervously, Ernie sent a helpless glance toward Hannah before resuming his seat with the rest of the onlookers. The blonde girl was doing a very good impression of a mouse being caught by a cat as she half-followed, half-stumbled behind Professor Snape. The two them finally reached the doors leading out and disappeared between them, leaving the hall gazing after them in confusion.

But, the students did not have long to think upon the matter, because an uproar was waiting in the wings.

A young boy, probably only in his second or third year, came scurrying into the hall, his breath arriving in pants. Taking a moment to survey his audience and catch his breath, he shouted out in the loudest voice he possessed, "EVERYBODY COME QUICK! SOMEONE'S JUMPED OFF THE ASTRONOMY TOWER!"

----

It had been two days since Blaise's death. Two days and she was already in the ground.

Hermione couldn't believe the rush her family had put on the funeral, but she supposed it was for the best. Everybody dealt with grief in different ways, and if getting their daughter buried as soon as possible would bring them closure, then Hermione was happy for the Zabinis.

She'd stood by Draco this morning, holding his hand clasped between both of hers, as they listened to the wizard give Blaise her final rites and then begin to lower her into the earth. The brunette was surprised that Draco shed no tears at the funeral, but she guessed it was because he had none left.

Afterwards, they, along with Lucius and Narcissa, had expressed their condolences to Blaise's mother and father, all four of them knowing what they were keeping concealed from the Zabinis back at Malfoy Manor.

Now, she and Draco were reclining in the sitting room on their floor, not speaking, just enjoying being close together and absorbing the events of the day. The talk between them and the elder Malfoys hadn't been an easy one, but in the end, they all decided that Madison was a secret best kept away from everyone else. Narcissa agreed to watch the baby when Hermione and Draco were not able, and a nursery was created next to Draco's room. Also, a door was fashioned in Hermione's room which gave her access to the nursery when need be.

Hermione lifted her head from where it was resting on Draco's chest and looked him square in the eye. "Does it ever get easier?"

Draco paused in his stroking of her hair and considered the inquiry she presented him with. "If it did, we wouldn't be human. If we harden ourselves against our feelings, then we would become less than whole."

She placed her head back down on his chest and thought about what he said. "You're right," she sighed. "But I can't help feeling miserable."

"I know."

"So," she cast around for something to change the subject to, "how did that talk with your father go yesterday?" She felt him stiffen beneath her. Puzzled, she wondered what the matter was.

Instead of an explanation, all she got was a curt "It was fine."

"That's it? Just fine?"

"Yes." Draco took a deep breath. "I just wanted to talk to him about what my standing in the family will become after I graduate from Hogwarts."

Sheepish, Hermione just replied, "Oh."

Then, before the topic could be clarified or explored further, a sudden crowd of voices along with resounding footsteps had materialized in the corridor outside the room. They could pick out the distinct voices of Lucius and Narcissa among the clamor, but the rest were a mystery to the two teens inside. Sharp shouting by Lucius could be heard, but they couldn't make out the words, and finally, the door banged open making them both give a slight jump.

There were five people standing in the entryway. Three they did not know.

One was a rather stunted, diminutive man with a balding cranium, looking very much like Wormtail had the last time Hermione had seen him. The man was wearing very official looking robes of blue and silver adorned with a patch of an embroidered fleur-dy-lis on the backdrop of a diamond. He was carrying a beautiful, multicolored shawl made of a light, airy material and a medium leather bag.

The next person was a tall, elegant young man wearing the same robes, but carrying nothing. He looked very unconcerned to be there, and was no more than twenty-two years of age. In a way, he reminded Hermione of Draco in the way he was stylishly slumped against the doorframe with his arms crossed, expressing his cool indifference to the world at-large.

However, the third unknown person seemed to be the focal point of the entire room and all the people in it. She was an older woman who knew the meaning of aging gracefully. Dressed in a very extravagant but chic robe, she seemed ready to burst once she caught sight of Hermione and tears began welling up in her very familiar, brown eyes.

"Oh! Mon cher, you are as belle as your mother was. You are just as I imagined." She spoke with a lilting French accent, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled with meaning, noticing how Hermione and Draco were positioned for the first time.

Lucius and Narcissa did not look pleased by the company in their home, and their displeasure intensified as they watched the older woman cross the room and take Hermione in her arms, barely missing Draco, and nearly squeezing the air out of her in surprise.

Once the woman drew back, Hermione had already figured out who she was, but she didn't know why she was here. "You're my grandmother, no?"

Francesca continued to smile meaningfully. "Yes, I am the Lady Francesca de Winter." She gave a quick, pert bow, before abruptly spinning around to face the door. "That is Renard, my footman," the balding man tilted his head at the introduction, "and that," here she gestured majestically toward the young man who was trying his best to seem inconspicuous, "is the Marquis Ignatius Phillipe Antony Beaumont."

Rather irritated, the young man glared at the woman. "It's just Iggy, Aunt."

"Nonsense! You are a marquis and I will announce you as such, whether you like it or not." Francesca sighed and turned her attention away from her great-nephew. Hermione and Draco had stood from their reclining positions on the couch during the introductions and were now facing her head-on. She took the time to study them both meticulously, and she found that she was quite keen about what she saw. She could see an opportunity when one was presented to her.

Hermione smiled at the two men still standing between the room and the corridor. "It's very nice to meet all of you. I'm Hermione."

"Hermione? What is this? You are Regina." Francesca looked very perplexed.

"I know, Lady de Winter," Hermione appeared uncomfortable as she tried to explain, holding onto Draco for support, "but I've been known as Hermione all my life."

"Very well. I suppose it doesn't matter what you are called. Anyway, there are more waiting downstairs in the carriages. Bianca, your cousin, is most anxious to meet you. So, let's move along, not a moment to lose."

Now Hermione was the perplexed one. "Waiting? What do you mean they're waiting? Where are we going? And why are you here in the first place? I didn't think I was going to meet you until Christmas break."

With those words, Francesca turned on the Malfoy patriarch. "Lucius! You did not tell her that her own grandmother was coming to collect her? What kind of guardian are you?"

"Collect me? What do you mean by 'collect'?" Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Francesca smiled kindly. "My dear, I wrote a letter telling Lucius that I would be here as soon as I possibly could to collect you and take you back to France with me. It's where you belong."

"What?" The shock of this announcement made Hermione shrink towards Draco, something that didn't go unnoticed by the Lady. "I am not going anywhere. Malfoy Manor is where I belong now."

"Hmm..." the Lady was considering her options as she gazed at the two teenagers. "Renard, handle the unpacking of the carriages. We're staying here. Ignatius, take care of Bianca." With that, the two men departed back down the corridor. Francesca smiled courteously at the Malfoys. "If you three don't mind, I would like some time alone with my granddaughter."

They nodded and exited amidst some minor grumbling, and Draco kissed Hermione goodbye, daring the Lady to say anything. On the contrary, it only pleased her further.

After the room was cleared and the door was closed, the two women sat down on opposite couches, each gazing at the other warily. Francesca was the first to speak and break the ice between them.

"You are in a relationship with the Malfoy boy?"

"Yes." Hermione saw no reason to lie when it was right in front of her face.

"How nice. It's been going on for long?"

"No, it's still pretty new. Only a few months."

"Oh," the Lady smoothed down her dress as she chose her next words carefully. "How much has Lucius told you about your mother and the monarchy?"

"Not much, I must admit. I know about the whole Duchess thing, but I know more about my father's family, the Rosiers, than I do about hers." Hermione smiled sadly at her grandmother. She knew it probably wasn't easy for her to rehash the death of her daughter.

"Well, Lucius was most certainly trying to protect you from the distress, but I believe in being honest. You're a grown girl and you will have to start dealing with your responsibilities soon." Francesca looked very firm in her resolution.

Hermione eyed her grandmother rather strangely. "I realize that, but I don't think it will be an issue until after I am out of school."

"Being heir to the throne of France will not wait until you graduate."

The brunette suddenly appeared like she was being choked. "Heir?!"

"Yes, heir. And as heir, you have certain obligations to both your duty and your family which must be carried out as soon as possible. Now that you are eighteen, you could take the throne at any moment.

"What do you mean by obligations?" Her grandmother was gazing at her in a very greedy way, and it was making Hermione more than a little uneasy.

"Well, first off, you need to get married."