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The Black Prophecy

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Hermione followed Draco through the castle and up to the seventh floor. She was in awe of the room of requirement. It was stacked floor to ceiling with magical objects that she could only imagine what they were used for.

"I only bring you to the best places," he said in the trademark Malfoy sneer.

"This is amazing. What are all of these things."

He shrugged. "Honestly I don't know. I am sure some of them are utterly useless, but this. This is what we are here for," he said gesturing to a large triangular metal cabinet.

"It's the one that matches the one in Borgin and Burkes," she said reverently running a hand down it.

"It is. They are tricky bastards. I decided to start with something simple." He produced an apple from the inner pocket of his robe. "Eventually we should be able to get the other Death Eaters in. But I thought we would start with something we couldn't kill."

"That is an excellent idea, because if something happened to my wife I would be incredibly upset."

"I am well aware. I don't wish to upset my mother either. She is no less frightening when she has given birth to you."

"I have no doubt."

"Someday you will have to tell me what she did to earn such fear from you," he said teasingly.

"That is something we will literally never discuss. You have been raised in pureblooded society. I am certain you can hazard a guess. I will not be breaking her confidence."

"Ah, you have certainly learned quickly. She will be pleased to know you take her so seriously."

Hermione shook her head at his teasing. "You haven't even mentioned what my wife's reaction might be."

"Yes, my dear aunt," he said placing the apple into the cabinet, "she is quite the witch as well." He muttered a spell and stood back. He waited a few minutes and opened the door. The apple sat just where it had before. "This is why I needed you. I cannot get anything to happen."

"How do I operate it. Perhaps I can give it a go," she said as soothingly as she could.

"Place the apple inside and close it. The spell is Harmonia Necetere Passus."

Hermione did as he said but with the same result. "Have you tried a mending charm?"

"All of the ones I could think of."

"Sounds like we are going to need to do a bit of research. I am happy to tackle the library bit to see what I can find there. I think it is time for you to write Mr. Borgin for instructions. I can ask Bella to put a little extra pressure on him if you like."

"I think all of that sounds reasonable. I have been trying for weeks."

"I will ask Bella tomorrow."

"Oh that's right! Are you excited for the first Hogsmeade visit?"

"I am completely overwhelmed. I can't imagine that I will be able to sleep at all. I will have to get some extra books from the library tonight."

"Then I will imagine you will be up early. Please don't leave the common room alone and go. I will get up early. My mother will kill us both if you leave the castle alone."

"Understood. They will let us leave the castle at 8 am. Can you or whomever be ready to go at 7:30?"

"It will no doubt be me. I can't ask the others."

"I very much appreciate your sacrifice."

"I'm only doing it because you have become increasingly grumpy."

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "I can not help you if you prefer."

He smiled over his shoulders as he gathered his things. He was enjoying getting her riled up. "Go on to the library then. They will not be open after dinner."

"Are you allowing me to go unaccompanied?" She gasped mockingly at him.

"Just this once, but I swear to Merlin if anything happens I won't allow you out of my sight for the rest of the school year."

"Understood. I will be mindful. See you at dinner."

He nodded as she left the room. She walked quickly to the library. It was so odd to be allowed to go anywhere on her own. The corridors were largely deserted, after all there weren’t many students going to the library on a Friday afternoon. She spent her first fifteen minutes gathering a large number of texts. As usual she would spend the next hour narrowing down to texts that would be worth carrying back to her room. She jumped when she heard the old large doors creak open. Something was not right. The air felt… wrong. Summoning more magic than she had in many weeks, she scattered the books she had just gathered onto random shelves. She pulled a large number of herbology texts magically and set them down quietly opening them to random pages. She summoned parchment from her bag and charmed it to look half filled out. She took a deep breath and started to take in as much information as she could in the moments while footsteps seemed to be approaching.

“Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise,” a lilting scottish voice said breaking the tense silence.

“Hello, Professor,” she said quietly but respectfully.

“It pleases me that with all of the recent… changes in your life, that you are still as studious as ever.”

“There could never be anything more important than my education,” she answered as neutrally as she could manage. She had not wanted to be so close to the woman who had so unfairly changed the course of her young life. And she had done a brilliant job of doing so thus far.

“And what is it that has you working so hard on a Friday afternoon?”

“Herbology, Professor. It’s the subject I have to work the hardest at. I just don’t have a green thumb.” She surprised herself that she had just told the truth. Of course, she didn’t tell the whole truth. She had other things that were more important to her than plants, other talents that she was more suited to explore. There were people that were very good with plants, and she was happy to let them.

The older witch turned the parchment Hermione was working on to read the fabricated notes. The young witch was simultaneously grateful that her magic was so strong and that she was so quick.

“Ah Shrivelfig. Not the most interesting subjects, but I am pleased that you are working so diligently on the basics. You know you do have the potential to become an accomplished witch. You simply need the right influences.”

Hermione open and closed her mouth a few times struggling to find words to express herself.

“I may be an old woman, Miss Granger, but I am not a fool.” The older witch leaned in. Hermione suspected it was meant to be comforting, but it came across as extremely threatening. “I know the kind of company you have been keeping. And I must warn you, not everyone will be as forgiving as I am. I know that you are just a teenager who has been shown affection for the first time in her life. It’s seductive, love that is so freely given. But don’t be naive, my dear.” She paused in her speech to run a hand down the young cheek and cup her chin so that their eyes met. A shiver ran through the young body, one which the head of the Gryffindor house misinterpreted as pleasure when it was in fact disgust. The older witch lightly kissed the corner of her mouth. “There are others, just as powerful and talented who would love you just as much. You just have to open your eyes to see it.”

Hermione wasn’t sure what the correct reaction was to such a proposition. Not to mention they were alone together, and the Dark Lord had been so clear about keeping her powers a secret. She had never felt so defenceless. Not to mention confused. On the surface it seemed as though the professor was coming on to her. Finally when she spoke it was nothing more than a whisper.

“All I want out of this year is to pass my O.W.L.s.”

“And I want that for you too. But please do me a favor, think about what I’ve said. Then when you have had time to process, please come to see me. Promise me.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“That’s a good girl. Now take a few minutes to clean up this mess. Dinner will start soon and no doubt your friends will be missing you.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good Evening, Miss Granger.”

“Good Evening, Professor.”

As soon as she heard the latch on the library door click shut, she magically reshelved every book, gathered her things and ran to the dungeons. She barely made it to the toilet before she started vomiting. As she emptied her stomach, she could no longer hold back the tears. She cried for the parents she lost, for the pain of not knowing who she was and for the ridiculous separation from the only person that makes her feel better.

A warm hand threaded through her hair. She heard Pansy tell another girl to go get Draco and Snape.

“It’s ok, Hermione. You are safe here,” the young Slytherin said soothingly. “Your family will be here soon. Just breathe.” A tissue was pressed into her hands. Shakily she leaned into the friendly embrace. All she could think about was how badly she needed her wife.

“We came as quickly as we could, Miss Parkinson,” the deep voice of the DADA professor sounded. “What’s the problem….” He trailed off as the crumpled form of Hermione came into view. “I see. Thank you. We can take it from here. Draco, please help Madame Black to her feet.”

Between the two of them, they lifted her and moved her back into the privacy of her room. Severus had her cleaned and into bedclothes magically. The two men moved her into bed. She summoned her wife's sweater into her hands and tugged it on. The scent and warmth made her feel slightly more human. She told them every little detail of the interaction with the transfiguration professor. She shuddered at the worst parts, wishing that she could forget the touch of the other woman and how dirty it made her feel. The two men soothed her the best that they could. They had food brought to her. They ate quietly and chatted until she could no longer keep her eyes open. They left with the promise that they would retrieve her early in the morning and personally escort her into town and her wife’s arms.