Knowing It All | By : Jennlee Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 11566 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Chapter 1 - Going Home
Hermione wasn't sad to get on the Hogwarts express when the last term of her sixth year at Hogwarts ended. This was a surprise to her - usually she felt she couldn't bear to leave school. This day it was almost a relief. Things were more complicated now. Articles in the Daily Prophet grew more and more depressing with each passing month. Members of the Ministry of Magic had been assassinated. Muggles had been killed. Voldemort's reign of terror had expanded over the last two years and was reaching a fevered pitch.
Hermione was a Gryffindor prefect - she had been for two years. She was top in her class - in any class, actually. It was almost a certainty that she would be made Head Girl next term. She took her duties seriously, although her vehement adherence to the rules had been tempered over her years at Hogwarts. Her past experiences with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had taught her that sometimes obeying the rules and doing the right thing were mutually exclusive concepts.
She prided herself with being fair - punishing her own housemates and the students of other houses equally. While this didn't make Hermione greatly popular with anyone, it did make her well respected. She only really had trouble with the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin boy in her year, had not changed for the better during his time at Hogwarts. Indeed, as the power of Voldmort and the Death Eaters grew, Malfoy got worse. Hermione wouldn't have imagined it was possible. As a First Year, Draco had been a petty, jealous boy. He was growing up to be a pompous, arrogant, bigot with no respect for anything.
Having nursed a bitter hatred of Harry, Ron, and Hermione for years, one of Malfoy's favorite pastimes was to see how far he could push the trio. Hermione was in the toughest spot, being a prefect and having to enforce the rules fairly without retaliation. Heaven knows, Hermione wanted to retaliate. Ever since Draco first called her 'Mudblood' during her second year, he knew her buttons and he pushed them frequently and with callous contempt.
The last year had been the worst. Malfoy started putting Daily Prophet clippings on her desk during Potions class - stories where Muggles or Muggle-borns were killed or were missing. He'd made snide remarks to her that she could be next. In the past, Hermione had always thought she could handle Draco, but recently she began to feel afraid of him. It wasn't only for herself, but for her parents as well. Her parents were practically defenseless, being Muggles.
Hermione, through the help of her teacher, Professor McGonagall, had gotten special permission to use magic over the summer. Normally underage witches and wizards were not allowed to do magic outside of school. However, due to the climate of terror Voldemort was bringing to bear, the ministry had granted special dispensation so Muggle-born witches and wizards could put magical defenses around their homes and families.
Arthur Weasley had been called upon to start a new branch of the Ministry, an office to be known as the Muggle Protection Agency. MPA wizards provided defensive assistance to all families of Muggle born witches and wizards. They also did their best to protect the general Muggle populace. This was an impossible task, but they did what they could, working overtime against the Death Eater's hideous agenda.
Hermione was grateful to be going home this term. She worried daily about her parents. They were so helpless, going about their normal, Muggle lives as dentists. No ma wha what Hermione told them about Voldemort and the Death Eaters they simply didn't understand - couldn't understand. Mr. Weasley and some wizards from the MPA had been out to put some simple wards on the Granger home but it wasn't enough, Hermione thought. wan wanted to be there to protect them. She had studied defensive wards and charms all year and she was eager to get started at home.
Hermione would miss Harry and Ron. Ron had invited her to stay at The Burrow over the summer, but Hermione was very much in two minds about it. She and Ron had finally admitted their feelings last year and had begun dating. She wanted to visit Ron and his family of course, but she needed to be home with her own family.
Hermione didn't mind having a break from Ron. She didn't feel she was ready to be tied to him so deeply. It had been so much easier when they were just best friends. Now there was all the other stuff that came along with relationships. One of these things, was the issue of sex. Hermione didn't feel like she was ready for that stage. She didn't think Ron was either. Ron, naturally, disagreed. He didn't pressure her but she definitely was aware of his preference. A summer break wouldn't be the worst thing for them, Hermione thought. In the end she had agreed, almost reluctantly, to visit The Burrow for the last two weeks of the summer break. Harry would be there as well, provided the Dursleys would let him come. It was a good compromise, she decided.
Hermione hoped for a quiet, peaceful summer with time that she could use to analyze her future and her feelings. Next year was going to be extremely important. There were N.E.W.Ts to study for and career planning to think about. It would be her final year at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't know what next year or the future would hold, but she was looking forward to taking this summer to think and plan and find herself once again.
That early summer morning, the Hogwarts Express was bound for London's Kings Cross Station. In a compartment near the back of the train, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were talking about Quidditch. Arguing about Quidditch really. Ron was defending a recent controversial play by the Cannon's new Chaser. Harry was arguing that it violated the rules. Hermione sat next to Ron, her nose buried in a book. Ron's sister, Ginny, sat next to Harry, looking dreamily out the window as the train chugged through the purple moors of Scotland.
Ron broke off from his argument with Harry and after a few minutes, reached over quietly and took Hermione's hand, holding it in his own. She looked up from her book and smiled at him. Sometimes Ron is just so sweet - when we aren't fighting like cats and dogs, that is, Hermione thought. Harry looked at Ginny, his eyes rolling upwards. Ginny giggled. They had been spectators to this sort of thing for a while now. Hermione noticed the eye rolling but she knew they really didn't mind - they just enjoyed giving the new couple a hard time, she realized.
"My, my, isn't that sweet." A snide and syrupy voice rang out from the door to the compartment. The blond boy standing in the doorway looked in with a sneer. Flanked, as he usually was by Crabbe and Goyle, two huge Slytherin housemates, Malfoy stood in the doorway. His voice was oily and dripped contempt with his infuriating upper class accent. Face squinted in his usual scornful expression, his eyes shone cold and malicious. "So sweet - Weasley and his little Mudblood whore. Isn't it simply too cute for words?"
"Yeah, too cute. Ha, ha!" said Goyle and he and Crabbe laughed stupidly.
Ron started from his seat, reaching for his wand. Hermione grabbed the back of his robes to pull him back, hissing in his ear that it was not worth it.
"Oh, that's right," Malfoy's voice drawled. Crabbe and Goyle stopped their chortling to listen, mouths agape. "Weasley can't afford a whore, can he? Maybe Granger feels sorry for him - she's a charitable girl, I think. How's life on the dole, Weasley?"
Both Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to understand Malfoy's sarcastic remark. Goyle scratched his head, looking something like a giant orangutan.
Ron jumped from his seat despite Hermione's hold on his robes. Harry and Hermione leapt up to hold him back. This is getting to be all to common of an occurrence, Hermione thought grimly, one hand on Ron's tall shoulder and the other grasping a handful of his black school robes.
"Just get out of here, Malfoy." Harry said tiredly, in a similar position on the other side of Ron. "Don't we do this often enough at school? Give it a rest."
Why can't he just leave us alone? Hermione sighed inwardly. "Yeah, Malfoy. Its summer. Take a break," Then with a threatening expression, she asked, "You really don't want to start off next term by losing house points, do you?"
Draco's expression turned even more haughty and sneering than Hermione would have thought possible. "Oh I have some very interesting plans for the summer, you know-it-all Mudblood. You'd better watch your step or you'll find yourself a part of them. You and your vile, disgusting Muggle parents." With this, Malfoy turned and left the compartment, his rich black cloak billowing behind him and Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind.
Hermione sat down shakily, exhaling loudly. She was angry but some of her anger had turned to fear. Malfoy had threatened her for ages but now it suddenly seemed more real. A cold, hard feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like to fear that obnoxious git. Why did she? She wondered. In the past she hadn't feared him. She had considered him a blight on the face of the earth, of course, but not a dangerous one. Now she couldn't be so sure his threats were idle. Draco Malfoy was almost seventeen and his father was a very powerful and dangerous man. Lucius Malfoy was a man who had covered up his Dark affiliations for years. Harry, Ron, and Hermione happened to know, however, that he was a Death Eater - one of You Know Who's right hand men.
Hermione didn't doubt for a moment that the Malfoys and their kind wanted all Muggle-borns dead and their Dark Lord in power. Since Voldemort's return, her fears escalated. The Death Eaters were gaining in strength in the climate of fear that was becoming pervasive.
In the aftermath of Draco's visit, Hermione looked down and noticed that her hands were shaking. She looked at them, trying to will them to stop.
Ron must have seen her, because he took her hands in his and squeezed reassuringly. His strength filled her with hope and resolve. Hands steadied, she looked deeply into his eyes. They were brown with a touch of hazel running through them, she noticed, surprised she hadn't really noticed before how beautiful they were. But there was something there, she thought. Worry maybe - or concern, hidden in their depths. Ron made light of the situation with the Slytherin boy. "Hermione, don't let that prat Malfoy get to you. He's just trying to rattle you. He's an arrogant ass, and not even an original one." He was trying to sound unconcerned and casual, Hermione thought, but his eyes give him away.
"I wish I could be so sure, Ron." Hermione mumbled. She suddenly felt tired.
At Kings Cross Station, Hermione hugged Harry goodbye. "I'll see you at Ron's, Harry. Call me on the telephone if you ever want to talk." Harry left through the barrier to find his uncle. Hermione was sorry Harry had to go home to his Aunt and Uncle's. She knew they barely tolerated him and greatly feared anything to do with the Magic world. It would be Harry's last summer with the Dursleys, which was at least one good thing, she thought.
Still on the platform, Ron drew Hermione close to say goodbye. They hugged hard and long and then he kissed her. Hermione was surprised. They had kissed before, of course, but not in such a public place. This kiss was so - Hermione struggled for the appropriate word in her thoughts, which were starting to fog, finally deciding on 'fervent.' She returned his kiss passionately. To Hermione it felt as if they were the only two people in the station and the whole world had come to a screeching halt around them. She stopped being aware of the hustle and bustle of the platform. She didn't notice that Fred and George had arrived to pick up Ron and were sniggering at them. She didn't see Ginny blushing and giggling nearby. She didn't take in the fact that Draco Malfoy and his father were eyeing them coldly from further down the platform. For that moment she and Ron were the only two people in the world. It felt good, Hermione thought, almost like it was meant to be.
It had to end, though. They released their embrace finally. As they did, Ron whispered to her, "Miss you."
She whispered back, a lump in her throat so large she could hardly get words out, "Me, too."
As she headed for the barrier she turned to call to Ron but the words stuck in her throat. How could she say, "Have a good summer" or "See you soon" when she felt this way. Their eyes met and it was enough.
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