Inevitable Lovers

Chapter 9:

As the beginning of October rolled past Hogwarts, certain significant events took place. The first was most definitely rather terrible, and the second merely rather unfortunate. October also brought with it colder weather, darker evenings and the prospect of Hagrid producing the usual gigantic carved pumpkins in time for the Hallowe'en feast.

On the second morning of the second week, Hermione arrived to the Gryffindor breakfast table to find it ruffled with frantic whisperings and exclamations. Harry looked very white as he sat poring over what seemed to be that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet.

'Harry? Ron? What's happened?' Hermione asked sharply.

Harry passed over the newspaper wordlessly, and it was then that she caught sight of the glaring headline.

MASS MUGGLE MURDER INCITES WIDESPREAD PANIC

Hermione gasped at this and the picture of a small, sleepy rural village below, where terrified villagers captured in the photograph were scattering in all directions away from a black and white house that was on fire. The caption read:

The Ministry of Magic has received shocking news of an unexplained incident of ruthless mass murder (at least six muggles have been killed) that took place yesterday evening in the village of Chaddesley Corbett in Worcestershire. A flustered Cornelius Fudge has confirmed for certain that this has not been a coincidence.

'It is without a doubt that this is the doing of He Who Must Not Be Named. It is further proof that the wizarding and muggle worlds are once again at great danger, as attacks like this seem to have no motive,' said Fudge shortly after the events. 'We appeal for the magical population to remain cautious, and take as much caution as possible until further decisions have been made.' (Continues pages three, four and five.)

Hermione looked at both Harry and Ron wide-eyed, then passed the paper over to a fourth year who was clamouring to read it, as were several others.

'I don't believe this,' said Hermione faintly. 'How could this have happened, without any warnings or anything? It's as if we've gone back to the old days...well I suppose we have, in a way. And who knows how many Death Eaters were behind Voldemort,' she finished, looking afraid.

Harry still looked a bit struck, and replied tersely, 'People always used to say Hogwarts was the only safe place, didn't they?' Now he looked over at the staff table, where Dumbledore was conversing rapidly with Professor McGonagall, who looked anxious.

'Hogwarts is safe, Harry,' said Ron. 'You-Know-Who can't get in here - I'm sure Dumbledore's made sure of that. Look, you can't do anything about this, it's not really in our hands, is it?'

'But still, Ron!' said Hermione reproachfully. 'Innocent people are being murdered -and not just that - they're muggles, and sooner or later they'll want to know exactly what happened, which will be more serious.' She put a hand on Harry's arm, and lowered her voice. 'The Order is strong, Harry. This won't be left alone. In fact, we can write to Professor Lupin and see what's going on.'

Harry nodded, and although Hermione tried to smile reassuringly, she couldn't erase the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach as she slowly sipped a cup of coffee. That could've been my parents, she thought. And those people, they didn't deserve to be killed, they didn't even know what was happening. Merlin, something needs to be done before this spirals out of control...

Shortly afterwards, the bell rang shrilly, and all three grabbed their bags and proceeded to first lesson. Ordinarily, there would have been complaints all round that it was double Potions, but Hermione certainly had a lot on her mind from the morning's news, and hardly noticed where she was going until they were outside the dungeons, waiting for Snape to call them in. Hastily, she glanced around for Draco, but didn't see him until they were seated behind him and some other Slytherins at the back. Hermione would have thought Snape would be fearful, panicked even, at the thought of his old master on the lookout for unfaithful Death Eaters, amongst others. However, he showed no change as he admonished Harry for making an over-thickened Potion and read out the instructions for the complicated potion that they had to learn how to make in theory for homework.

Two hours usually seemed like an age in Potions, but today the clock seemed to tick faster than normal, which was a relief. Hermione wondered briefly if there was any way possible of removing the Dark Mark from one's forearm, and then felt a sudden jolt as she realised Draco would also receive the crude branding if all went to plan. A shiver ran through her in the clammy dungeon, and although she tried to push it away, a small voice that was strangely difficult to ignore asked her what on earth she'd got herself into.

***

By lunchtime, most people had fallen back into the usual chatty routines of Hogwarts, although Hermione still felt a bit anxious. Several other muggle-borns were showing signs of this too, including the Creevey brothers, who seemed rather subdued and not half as talkative as usual at the Gryffindor table.

After eating, Hermione picked up her bag but instead of leaving with Harry, Ginny and Ron, told them she would catch up with them later because she needed to return some books to the library. This much was true, but she also hoped to accidentally-on-purpose bump into Draco on the way. Students milled about in their lunch hour, but she didn't see him either on the way there or back, which was slightly disappointing.

Harry and the rest had apparently gone to the Quidditch pitch to cram in some more practice for the upcoming tournaments and having nothing else to do, Hermione decided to go and watch. The weather was gloomy out, but not too ominous although as Hermione crossed the pitch past the changing rooms she huddled her cloak around her; it was chilly. Just as she was about to arrive at the side of the pitch, a hand unceremoniously jerked the back of her cloak. She stiffened in surprise and turned sharply. Draco was standing right by a tall, overshadowing hawthorn bush, looking knowingly at her. An involuntary grin spread over Hermione's face as she followed him further into the shadows. She put her bag down carefully and Draco pulled her in for a rough, but deep kiss. Hermione noticed now that his hair was wet, creating little rivulets that trickled down his neck.

'What have you been doing?' she asked.

'I've come from the showers. We just had Quidditch practice - the Slytherins are always one step ahead you know,' said Draco, raising an eyebrow.

'So I see,' said Hermione playfully, wiping away a drop of water from the side of his face tenderly. Then her expression turned serious. 'Listen, did you hear about the incident at that village last night?'

'Oh, you mean when a load of muggles got attacked?' said Draco disdainfully. 'Big deal. I really think the Dark Lord has hit an all-time low - like killing muggles is going to prove that he's really at large again. Any Death Eater could've done the job; it's things like this that make me wonder why the hell my father's bothering to get me involved with it all in the first place.'

Hermione face was stricken.

'What?' said Draco brusquely.

'I can't believe you just said that,' said Hermione tightly. 'How dare you dismiss the lives of those people like that - and in front of me! A muggle-born. But maybe I shouldn't talk about my heritage in front of a superior pureblood like you,' she said curtly, trying to keep the sudden anger out of her voice. 'I suppose there is something else behind the fact that we have to keep this a secret - you have your reputation to live up to, don't you Draco? It's all right if you can use me privately, as long as no one finds out, isn't it?' she said, her voice raising, as she expressed the worries and doubts she'd been having for some time.

Draco had looked shocked for an instant, but recovered quickly. 'Hermione, look, I didn't mean it to come out like that, really I -'

'But that's just it, isn't Draco? You're just too bloody casual about the whole thing. I knew this was too good to be true! It's like you have no consideration for anyone other than yourself.' And with that, Hermione walked off without another word, swinging her bag swiftly over her shoulder.

***

Being a Malfoy meant a lot of things. It meant being cool and confined, haughty and a cut above the rest. It did not mean putting your feelings on the line, ever, or getting mixed up in emotional romantic ties. Everyone in the Malfoy family knew the fated story of the infamous Charles Malfoy, who had been grandly engaged to an upper class witch from another esteemed family; all set for a life of happy marriage. Charles had been doomed from the start by the terrible web of a torrid affair he'd had with a young and beautiful girl he would have been forbidden to court otherwise. The long and short of it was that he'd met a tragic demise as a result when everyone at his personal chateau in France had been exposed to the scandal. Magic and certain curses had been involved, and neither hide nor hair was ever seen of the girl again, either.

These were the thoughts running through Draco's mind as he reflected on the little scene that had happened earlier, now in his bedroom as the evening drew in. He had only glimpsed Hermione at dinner, which was neither the time nor the place for justifications. Other than that, it had been a quiet day as Transfiguration was far too difficult to let the imagination wander very far in, and Professor McGonagall kept them all alert with random quick-fire questions for most of the afternoon. Of course, he had homework, but was letting it go hang at the moment to pursue a conversation with his private mirror. The evening drew in steadily, the sky a deep crystalline blue outside.

The mirror in Draco's bedroom was well concealed, and hardly anyone knew it even existed. It currently hung on the inside of the left door of his wardrobe, and it was only recently he had realised that it, or rather she, could speak. She had nearly frightened the life out of him once, when he had been adjusting his hair for the Yule Ball in their fourth year, as she giggled pertly while he tried to get it right. Her name was Arielle, and in the 18^th century she had been a pretty French maid for a very rich family. Arielle had a soft, flirty French accent and Draco could well imagine what she had once looked like, as she often described herself to him seductively. In fact, he would never have admitted this to anyone, but it was her he had fantasised about the night of the ball while he took Pansy to bed. He remembered how he had done everything and anything that made her moan for more with Arielle's face in mind, and a wry smile twisted his lips. He had been so naïve.

'Draco, she is surely not ze only girl in ze castle?' Arielle said flippantly. 'You are a Slytherin sex-god, don't you know?' She giggled.

Draco couldn't help smirking at the compliment. 'It's not like I couldn't get any other girl in Hogwarts,' he drawled. 'That's not the issue. I want Hermione and I swear, Arielle, I didn't mean to say what I said. Bollocks. Me and my stupid big mouth.' He sighed.

'Mmm...Draco don't be so hard on yourself. She is lucky to 'ave you, you are très adorable,' she said, emphasising the French "adorable".

'She's the only one who sees me as a...person,' he said, searching for the right word. 'She cares about what I feel about stuff; I never met anyone like that before. And she's pretty...not in a tarty way like loads of other girls. Like Pansy...she'd let anyone lay her for a few empty words,' he added.

'Well if you like her this much, you must apologise,' Arielle said simply. 'But just remember, I am always here for your...amusement until then.' As Draco could not see her, for his benefit she made an extravagant smack of a kiss to the air. Draco could tell she would be smiling if she were standing in front of him.

'You're filthy gorgeous, you are,' he said light-heartedly. 'Okay, I'll try and make it up to Hermione. See you later.' And he glanced once more at his reflection in the mirror and closed the wardrobe door.

***

Before the time came when it was forbidden to be out in the corridors, Hermione decided to do something about her burning desire to uncover Professor Tuppy's identity. What else do I have to do anyway? She asked herself consciously, fiddling with the edge of her neat bedspread and thinking of Draco. Maybe I overreacted. But really, Hermione stood by her principles and did not go and find Draco. Her homework had been finished quickly that night, for once. To pass the time alone in her bedroom she had decided to get a head start in Potions and read the next five chapters of their textbook, although it had not been asked of them. After an hour or so of continuous reading, Hermione was left with that slightly unreal feeling she sometimes had when her mind had been engaged with a book for a long time, blotting out the outside world entirely. So, piling her books up on her bedside table and sliding her wand into her pocket, Hermione left the room, feeling slightly apprehensive about bumping into Draco in the common room.

However, he wasn't there when she entered, and Hermione quickly slipped out of the painting door into the dim corridor. She knew the castle very well but still felt conspicuous on her own, and hoped she wouldn't meet Filch prowling around. She considered stopping at the Gryffindor common room to ask Harry and Ron to come with her, but decided against it as there were only twenty minutes left before all students had to be in their dormitories for the night.

Therefore, she continued on her way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's office a few floors down. It wasn't quite dark enough to need "Lumos", yet very still and silent. The stairs creaked as she descended them, and the portraits of figures on the wall followed her with their eyes. The wall brackets were still lit, but dim and no substitute for natural light. A rickety suit of armour glinted in the corner.

Hermione felt relieved as she finally passed the last passageway. She hadn't met any other students on the way, and hoped she wasn't the last out of her dormitory. She glanced at her watch. Only ten minutes to get back. Outside Professor Tuppy's door, Hermione composed herself, planning what to say, and hoping she hadn't just turned in for the night.

Hermione pushed the unlocked door open slowly, making it creak ominously. She peered hesitantly around it...into an eerily empty office. There was no one there, and the front desk looked strangely bare. This piqued Hermione's interest, and on furtively looking behind her, she crept inside the room and made her way quickly to the professor's desk. There were no documents, parchment or quills lying on it. There were no instruments set up on the small table in the corner, which looked oddly bare. There were no signs of personal belongings; cloaks, bags or suitcases. Hermione frowned, her trepidation forgotten slightly. She slowly scanned the room.

Her gaze then caught a lone piece of scrap parchment tacked to one wall. Being curious, Hermione moved a step closer and read it. It was evidently some kind of list, as it read:

Tuesday - 1^st Lesson second years (Severus Snape)

Wednesday - Final double lesson fourth years (Sybil Trelawney)

Friday - 3^rd Lesson third years & 5^th Lesson sixth years (Pomona Sprout)

Puzzled, Hermione tried to decipher what the "timetable" meant, staring at the words again. We had Tuppy today, she thought, and everything seemed to be fine. But today is Monday, and this list starts from Tuesday...Tuesday. Does that mean Professor Tuppy isn't here the rest of the week? Well, that would make sense of the list, but why? Bemused, Hermione could not think of a reason for her professor's absence, and turned to leave.

It really was dark outside now, and she had no choice but to use "Lumos" to find her way back. She felt very exposed as she tiptoed back down the corridors and up the stairs. Once she even heard the sound of light, bounding feet above her and froze for a second before realising it must be Filch's cat. A nightmarish scene of being stripped of her Head Girl badge for breaking the rules flashed in her mind. Because of this, she quickened her pace considerably and was out of breath from panic and exertion when she finally reached the Phoenix-painting of their door. Now I know why Harry got so attached to that illegal map, she thought with relief as she clambered inside and scurried up to bed. It must have been useful in the dark.

As Hermione changed into her night things, her mind alternated between thoughts of Draco and thoughts of her Defence professor. Trying to console herself, she plotted in her head what she would say to Draco when he apologised. I still can't believe he was so harsh. This is a serious situation. She was brushing her hair now. I wonder what Dumbledore will do about the attack... the Order of the Phoenix are probably involved. Aurors really do have a lot of responsibility. Her thoughts strayed to the dramatic events of her fifth year in the Ministry of Magic. Thank heavens for Aurors then...the way the just came to our defence immediately...like they just dropped everything to save us. Save us. Aurors. Aurors! Hermione stopped dead, her eyes wide with sudden, immense understanding. No, it can't be. Professor Tuppy couldn't possibly be...