Authors Notes- This is a day later than I expected to post. Unfortunately, real life does get in the way and I will be unable to post for a few weeks, think of it like a mid-season break. The next chapter should be posted on or around the 2nd of June.
This chapter involves potentially distressing scenes or deals with issues that may affect you emotionally
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE- BATTLE FOR A SOUL
The sound of someone Apparating echoed across the grounds of Hogwarts as Narcissa and Remus appeared with Cepheus and Harry. They appeared just outside the gates to Hogwarts, where Professor McGonagall was waiting for them.
“Remember what your father said, do not be alone with the Headmaster, and do not do anything in regard to Hermione,” Remus looked at Harry, who frowned.
“Yes, Uncle Remus,” the two boys intoned.
“You remember that spell we taught you?” Remus asked.
“Yes, Uncle Remus,” they intoned again with an eye roll from Harry. The four of them turned and walked up to the gate, where the transfiguration teacher waited patiently.
“Good afternoon, Minerva. How are you today?” Remus greeted the older Witch.
“As well as can be expected,” the stern Witch replied, then turned to Cepheus. “I am sorry to hear about your parents.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Cepheus replied respectfully.
“I can escort them from here,” McGonagall suggested.
“Actually, if you do not mind, I would like to take Remus and Narcissa up to my suite,” Harry explained. “I would like to give them something to take back to dad.”
“All right, you have my permission,” Professor McGonagall replied after a few moments of thought. Narcissa, Remus and Minerva chatted casually as they walked through Hogwarts on the sunny Sunday afternoon. The two boys followed along, not speaking, just listening to the adults speaking. All year groups were outside enjoying the cold Sunday afternoon enjoying the weather while it lasted.
The group passed through the Entrance Hall, where Remus and Narcissa got a few strange looks from the students lingering around. They stopped at the foot of the stairs.
“Now you know the way, Lord Rendlesham, I have other appointments, I am afraid,” Professor McGonagall told them.
“Thank you, Minerva, for meeting us,” Remus told the older woman.
“It is no problem; I was worried about my two cubs,” she smiled faintly.
“Thank you, Professor.” As she turned away, a giggle came from the corridor, and Hermione emerged with Ron. She acted more like Lavender than any time Harry had ever seen her. Remus and Narcissa watched the pair curiously. Harry’s hand drifted down to his wand as he clenched his jaw in anger; seeing the couple now with clearer eyes, he wanted to hit Weasley. Harry felt a small hand on his own; he looked down to see Cepheus stopping him as his other hand moved towards his old wand. He sighed reluctantly. However, the pair stopped as they saw the group; Ron must have felt safe with the group of adults there because he spoke up.
“Well, if it isn’t the little Lord Black and his brother, the traitor.” McGonagall looked set to say something, but Harry moved forward, pinning him to the wall. All hell broke loose, the three adults began shouting at once as Harry moved closer to the redhead so only Ron could hear him.
“Be careful what you say, Weasley. Even your family will not stop me if I decide to bring a blood feud against you,” Harry whispered, his voice like ice. “I know Hermione would not voluntarily go with you, so you must be drugging her.”
“The bitch is begging for it; you’re just lucky I haven’t found anywhere private yet,” Ron leered. Harry did not know where his friend of four years had gone, maybe the redhead had always been like this, and he had refused to see it. Harry did not really think as he thumped the taller boy in the stomach.
“I am warning you, anything happens to Hermione, I will pull your guts out and string you up in the Great Hall while still alive,” Harry threatened. The other boy must have taken the threat seriously as Harry could see the fear in his eyes.
“Lord Rendlesham, please.”
“Harry!” Narcissa’s voice drew him back released the taller boy, who rubbed his neck panting. He turned to Professor McGonagall and the three adults, bowing to them.
“I apologise for my uncouth behaviour. I will willingly accept any punishment you deem fit,” Harry told the three gaping adults before skirting around them, grabbing Ceph’s hand and marching up the stairs to the seventh floor.
“I will speak to him,” Remus promised as the stunned Deputy Headmistress looked over Hermione Granger, fawning over Ron Weasley. Narcissa and Remus quickly followed their charges, finding them outside a painting of a Griffin watching over a valley. As soon as Harry saw the pair, he whispered the password, which opened, allowing them inside to find a surprise.
Wrestling on the living room floor was Dobby, the house-elf with another house-elf that seemed to be clutching something. Within moments the other house-elf was tied to a child’s chair, looking mournfully at the four humans. Remus was examining the item, a bottle of toothpaste, closely.
“What is going on, Dobby?” Harry asked.
“I’s caught this thief taking Master Harry’s toothpaste,” Dobby said proudly, his little chest puffed out.
“Well done, Dobby,” Remus spoke up, getting strange looks. “If I am not mistaken, this is potioned, probably the same potions we weaned you off, Harry.”
“Who are you? Who is your master?” Narcissa asked the elf. He shook his head, the ears flapping wildly.
“Dobby, can you use house-elf magic to get him to tell you the truth?” Remus asked. The little house-elf nodded then began whispering something in a language they had never heard before. Like Veritaserum, the little house-elves eyes glazed over, and he went still.
“What is your name?” Remus asked.
“Tuttle,” the creature stated-. Dobby nodded at Remus’ unasked question.
“What family do you serve, house-elf?”
“I belong to the House of Dumbledore,” Tuttle answered in a dull metallic voice. Harry growled, but Remus put a hand on his chest.
“What were your orders?”
“Remove toothpaste,” the little elf replied. As Remus and Dobby were communicating wordlessly, the werewolf gave the house-elf a nod. Dobby whispered something, and the elf disappeared with the chair.
“What did you do?” Harry asked curiously.
“Made his memory go away, sent him to the kitchens,” Dobby answered with a grin.
“Thank you, Dobby; I will call you if we need you,” the house-elf nodded happily. Harry knew the little elf would get something special for Christmas. Remus and Narcissa moved around the suite, checking over everything before they were both satisfied that the toothpaste was the only item charmed or potioned.
“I will take it back with me to analyse,” Remus told the boy.
“Thank you, Remus,” Harry answered as there was a sudden knock on the door. Narcissa opened the door to allow Neville in. He immediately crossed over and hugged Harry, then slapped him. “Ow, what the hell was that for?”
“Just testing to see if it was you and not a zombie,” Neville replied with an unapologetic grin while Cepheus laughed out loud.
“Right, we will take this young man and see you soon,” Remus told Harry. “Remember your promises,”
“I will, Uncle Remus,” Harry replied with another eye roll as Remus led Narcissa and Cepheus out.
“Are you better now?” Neville asked.
“Yes, I had been potioned again. We think Hermione has been potioned too,” Harry replied.
“Then let’s grab her and force a purging potion down her throat,” Neville said empathically. He appeared ready to march out of the room, but Harry grabbed his arm.
“I would love to, but Amelia is performing an investigation, which means we have to wait,” Harry said disgustingly.
“You are not exactly known to listen to adults,” Neville gave him a grin.
“I know, but for the moment I am, but you, me and Draco will watch the pair of them closely. If we see anything inappropriate, sod the adults. All right?”
“OK! Now, did your dad say anything about the Wizengamot session?” Neville asked.
“I put forth a motion to change or repeal the Werewolf Act of 1997,” the Duke of Anglia stood up in front of Wizengamot.
“We voted for a repeal during a spring session. It cannot be repealed for at least six months,” Tiberius Ogden reminded the Black Patriarch.
“Thank you, Chief Warlock, then I would like to put a motion forward to change the laws,” Sirius spoke, “They say werewolves are a problem and threaten to expose us, but they only change once a month. By putting this Act through, you have condemned many fellow witches and wizards to a life of deprivation.”
“You only want to change the Act because of your pet wolf,” Viscountess Zabini shouted.
“Remus Lupin has stable employment in the House of Black, regularly taking the Wolfsbane potion and being properly secured in my household,” Black returned archly, “but if you look at the figures, I’ve just handed out you’ll see the werewolf crime rate has gone up since the Act become law.”
“That just proves werewolves are dangerous criminals,” another member spoke.
“No, if you look at the official Ministry figures, Werewolf-related crimes were only 5% of all offences committed in the seven years leading up to the Act. Since the Act in the spring, that figure has shot up to 20% with more thefts, burglaries, and physical attacks of a werewolf.”
“The figures are compelling, Your Grace. Have you got a proposal for the Wizengamot?” Tiberius asked.
“Yes, for all those werewolves that register with the Ministry, we offer Wolfsbane,” Black started but was immediately interrupted.
“That will cost the ministry a fortune.” Someone shouted from the Noble seats.
“The Black Foundation is willing to pay for 75% of the cost of the wolfsbane potion,” Black added, “also, the law surrounding jobs should be changed so that werewolves can get low-paid jobs.”
“What do you class as low-paid?” someone called.
“Shop work, clerical staff, and maintenance staff,” Sirius explained. “I’d also like to add that werewolves should be deemed as Witches and Wizards, allowing them to keep their wands.”
“You have your proposal in writing?” Ogden got a nod, “then distribute it around to the Wizengamot, we shall discuss it, and then in the next Wizengamot session, we’ll vote on it.”
“Now, the last part of the Wizengamot session today is the trial of Dolores Umbridge, former Undersecretary to the Ministry and current Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry. As Director of the DMLE, I shall be prosecuting,” Amelia Bones took over the Wizengamot. She nodded to someone, who opened the door to allow a drab looking Madam Umbridge in. She was escorted by two Aurors and a whip-thin man impeccably dressed.
“Jeremy Winters, Ma’am, Borgin, Burke and Bulstrode Lawyers,” the tall man introduced himself so it could be written by the scribe.
“Now, Delores Janet Umbridge is accused of ordering Dementors to attack a minor, she is also charged with use of a blood quill on two minors, one is heir to an Ancient and Noble house; threatening said heir and line theft.”
“That’s ridiculous; he wasn’t even betrothed,” Dolores screamed. Her lawyer spoke to her, but her eyes flashed angrily.
“How do you plead?” Amelia Bones asked.
“Not guilty,” the woman spat.
“Thank you, Madam. Miss Umbridge, you were the Undersecretary of the Minister, correct?” Amelia immediately laid in on thick by not using any of the woman’s titles.
“Was it part of your job to sign off on the movements of Dementors?”
“Yes, but- “Bones interrupted the woman.
“Is this your signature?” Bone asked, placing a piece of parchment on the desk before the woman.
“It appears to be so,” Umbridge answered.
“On the document is an order for two Dementors to raid Little Whinging in Surrey, to capture a ‘Kiss on sight’ a prisoner from Azkaban, one Harry James Potter,” Amelia distributed copies of parchment. Hushed whispers filled the room. Tiberius had to bang his gavel a few times to quieten the room.
“We have had an independent writing expert look over said parchment; they believe the signature to be a forgery,” Winters spoke up, distributing his own five-page report to the Wizengamot.
“Now moving on to the use of a blood quill, which was banned in 1990 by this very Wizengamot, as the victims are minors, I have written testaments and photographs of their hands after the use:
“I was playing a joke with Fred and George Weasley when Professor Umbridge caught me, arranging detention. When I arrived at the detention, I was given a long black quill instead of my own quill. She told me to write the lines ‘Defence is not a joke”. I began writing, and something began cutting into my hand. As I wrote more and more lines, the more my hand hurt,”
“That was the testimony of one of the students; here are the photos to show of the hand,” Amelia distributed pictures of the back of Lee Jordan’s hand, bleeding freely with ‘Defence is not a joke’ clearly cut into the hand. She went on to talk about the other student, a Lord, who had been threatened with his betrothed.
“At the time, the minor Lord was not betrothed,” Winters defended his client. A noise from the Wizengamot got the attention of Tiberius.
“Chief Warlock, Director Bones, in the interest of a fair trial, can we have the name of the Minor Lord?” Lucius Malfoy asked. As everyone was looking at the accused, no one noticed the nod Amelia Bones got from Sirius. The man knew his son would hate it, but he would agree if it got Umbridge locked away.
“With your permission, I do have the permission of the minor’s guardian,” Amelia looked to the Chief Warlock.
“Granted, but this will be sealed in the records. If any of the media report the name of the minor Lord, you will find yourself in Azkaban faster than you can say Dementor,” Ogden warned the reporters in the Gallery.
“Miss Umbridge used the Blood quill on Lord Rendlesham, Harry Antares Black, for well over two weeks,” Amelia announced to more hushed whispers.
“Lord Rendlesham has a record of delinquency as well as being frivolous with the truth,” Winters spoke up. Regent Longbottom had a surprisingly firm grip as she held onto Sirius’s arm, but he growled, nonetheless. “I have school reports from pupils and teachers about his disregard for all authority.”
“I have reports from two different Healers plus Andromeda Black attesting to the injuries on the back of Lord Rendlesham’s hand are those of a blood quill,”
“Director Bones why is Healer Tonks not here to give her report in person?” someone asked from the Wizengamot.
“Unfortunately, there was a death in the family, and she is in mourning,” Bones replied, staring at the questioner. Amelia continued presenting her case, occasionally getting questions and rebuttals from the Defence.
“Are you done, Director Bones?” Ogden asked. The woman nodded and sat through the Defence, also asking questions and rebutting things as he did. After almost three hours, the Gallery was emptied, and the accused removed to a holding cell for deliberation. Sirius had to recuse himself due to the nature of the crimes against his son but could sit in on the deliberation of whether Madam Umbridge was guilty or not.
An hour later, Sirius Black emerged from the Wizengamot to find Ted Tonks waiting for him with Andromeda.
“How did it go?” Andromeda asked.
“Umbridge was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban, though only by a narrow margin,” Sirius answered as he fell in with them as they made their way through the Ministry to the elevators to take them to Level Four.
“What level?” a house-elf asked them.
“Level Four, please,” Sirius replied as the elevator jolted off. There was no one else in the elevator beside them and the elf.
“Do we have a chance with Hermione?” Andromeda fretted.
“I think we have a strong case and being a vassal of the Black’s plus Harry’s betrothed should automatically mean we get custody,” Ted responded. “I cannot understand why emergency custody was handed to the Headmaster.”
“Because he is a manipulative old goat,” Sirius murmured.
“Level Four, Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Department of Education and Family Services,” the house-elf intoned as the elevator dinged, allowing the three to enter. They turned left towards the DEFS and then towards Family services. They quickly found courtroom three, a small room much like its Mundane counterparts with a bench for the judge and seating area for each of the aggrieved parties. Albus Dumbledore was already sat at one of the tables with a tall thin man, presumably his lawyer. What surprised the three was Molly Weasley, who was also seated with the lawyer and the Headmaster. The trio quickly made their way up to the two desks and sat on the opposite one.
“All rise for Judge Davis.” All six rose as a middle-aged woman emerged from the chambers and took a seat. Sirius noticed a slight drop in Dumbledore’s face before his grandfatherly look was plastered on again.
“Apologies, due to unforeseen circumstances, Judge Larkin was unable to attend, so I have taken over proceedings,” the woman shuffled around the papers in her hand and looked them all over. “This is a case to arrange the custody of Hermione Granger, whose parents died last week. She was awarded emergency custody to Albus Dumbledore. Does anyone have any objection to continuing this arrangement?”
“No, ma’am,” Dumbledore’s lawyer answered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted replied.
“All right, please presents yourselves,” Judge Davis told them.
“Tony Jarquin, Borgin, Burke and Bulstrode Lawyers,” the tall thin man replied. Sirius’ suspicion was automatically aroused; these lawyers were known to represent the dark aspects of the wizarding world.
“Theodore Tonks, Tonks & Black lawyers,” Ted introduced himself.
“All right, Mr Tonks, you have objected to Miss Granger being in the custody of Mr Dumbledore. I have records stating that Minerva McGonagall was her magical guardian until last week,” the judge told them.
“The records should have been updated; she became a Vassal of the House of Black during the summer,” Ted told the woman, handing over the correct parchment. Once the clerk had taken them and verified their authenticity, the parchment was handed over to the judge. “I would like to recommend that Andromeda Tonks and I are awarded immediate custody of Hermione Granger; his Grace will allow us to adopt.”
“The agreement with Hogwarts supersedes that, Isabella and William signed a contract that gave Professor McGonagall and Hogwarts magical guardianship; therefore, she should stay with Professor Dumbledore,” Jarquin explained. “The Vassal laws are archaic and outdated, according to Section 21c paragraph 5 of the 1894 Magical Treatise, ‘All previous laws are invalidated unless the aggrieved parties have a valid reason. In this case, the newer contract outweighs the old laws.”
“However, betrothal contracts are clad in magical iron, Isabella and William Granger entered into a Contract with His Grace, for the hand of their daughter for his son. Therefore, again custody should be handed over to my wife, a daughter of Black,”
“We have on record a contract between Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, singed several years ago.”
“But Harry’s last name is Black; the contract is invalid,” Remus argued.
“However, magic does not consider the contract invalid,” Jarquin fired back.
“Professor Dumbledore has been known to allow his wards to be abused. I have evidence from several parties of the abuse of Harry Black, while Professor Dumbledore was his guardian.” They argued for hours, the judge adding her own questions to the mix until she sighed.
“I have heard much; I will need to review the evidence handed to me and determine the best place for Miss Granger. I feel this is time-sensitive, so we shall all return here on the 15th of November. Session adjourned.” Sirius, Ted and Andromeda felt absolutely drained as they made their way back to the elevators riding them back to the atrium. They left via the Floo into Diagon Alley, where they had a cup of coffee. The first ten minutes or so was silent before they began quietly discussing the custody hearing.
Sometime later, Sirius was again the first one through the Floo network arriving in the parlour at Hárasteorra Hall. The mansion seemed to quiet; Remus and Narcissa should be about somewhere. Ted and Andromeda emerged from the fireplace as Sirius walked through the hall.
“Remus, Narcissa, anyone?” Sirius called out.
“We are in here,” A voice called him into the living area, which he walked in to find Harry, Neville and Draco looking slightly abashed.
“Are you alright? Did Dumbledore try something again? Where is Cepheus?” Sirius asked worriedly.
“We are, erm, fine,” Harry replied nervously, “Cepheus is upstairs.”
“Tell your Dad what happened!” Remus prompted, scowling at the boy.
“Draco stunned Hermione!” Harry blurted out, getting a glare from the blonde. Sirius pinched his nose as Andromeda and Ted entered, surprised by the trio in front of them.
“Right, tell me the story from the top,”
“OK, erm, it began a few hours ago when we were in our Defence Class….”
A few hours earlier…
Harry was distracted during the Defence session. Professor Dumbledore had arrived thirty minutes ago; since then, Harry had spent his time between glaring at the ancient Headmaster and watching Ron and Hermione. Proudfoot and Flitwick talked about different Shielding Charms, but he could not help but observe Hermione and Ron. He could not believe how beautiful the woman of his dreams looked in just jeans and a t-shirt but knew she should be wearing the Black ring on her finger. Instead, she was all over Ron. He turned away in disgust to see Draco talking with Theo.
“How are you?” Draco asked as he came over with Theo and Neville.
“Fine!” Harry grunted, but the three teens knew he was anything but. He found Ginny next to the pair, every now and then giving him longing looks, fiddling with something on her finger. As he watched her, she chatted to Ron and Hermione, twisting something on her finger again. Harry took several deep breaths sinking into his magic to trace auras. He had been getting better at this lately. He saw Severus Snape by the table, which held drinks for the students, a black line trailing off from his arm. The Headmaster, who was watching the event, had an aura of white and gold, but it was entwined with purple and several black lines. Now he looked to Ginny, a faint golden streak of light trailed away from the redhead connecting with Harry’s magic. Then he looked at Hermione; her aura was usually a bright green, which reminded him of the deep forest. But now, it was a pale, sickly green tinged in purple.
“We have a problem,” Harry muttered to Draco.
“Well, firstly, Ginny’s got a bewitched item that is paired with me. I can see it when I try to read Auras,” Harry explained, “secondly, Hermione’s aura is a sickly green, mixed with purple.”
“I knew there was something wrong; we cannot wait for your father and Remus to do anything. Bugger the investigation,” Draco replied vehemently. Harry had told him all about the investigation and why he could not do anything for Hermione, but Harry was frustrated. The last three days had been an absolute nightmare. Every time he saw them together, Harry wanted to punch Ron’s smarmy little face.
“We wait for the moment, but I am not waiting much longer,” Harry was restraining himself. “Dad, Aunt Andi and Uncle Ted were supposed to go to a custody meeting today after the Wizengamot session. If Dumbledore is here, then the meeting must have ended.”
“I think the thing with Ginny is related to your betrothal. Have you heard from the Goblins?” Draco asked as the stage was being set up for a demonstration.
“Not much; I spoke to him over the weekend, and he said the goblins might have found something, but he was just organising a meeting with them,” Harry responded.
“Look, Harry, it will end up all right. We are all watching Hermione, so if something happens, we will be there in a flash,” Neville reassured his dark-haired friend. Harry nodded, but he found Hermione once again. He stared into her eyes, there was something there, but he could not read them before Ron asked her question. Soon after, they were all paired off, but his heart was not in it, and Neville caught him several times with a simple stunning spell. Harry never noticed Ron and Hermione slipping away from the Great Hall during one of the attacks, but someone did.
Hermione was screaming in her mind as she met eyes with Harry, pleading for his help before Ron crossed in front of her asking her some stupid question. She managed to answer him before he sat in his chair, sulking about something as Ginny talked into his ear increasingly. Hermione had been fighting herself for the last couple of months since a visit to the Headmaster in mid-October. After her visit to Hogsmeade, every time she had been with Harry, the girl had felt dirty but had managed to fight the feeling when Harry told her lies about being betrothed. Harry had asked, and the girl had happily said yes. But Hermione had soon felt uncomfortable realising she had done the wrong thing agreeing to Harry.
“Are you alright, Mi?” Ron asked, interrupting her thoughts. She hated anyone but Ceph calling her ‘Mi’, yet she felt compelled to answer him without argument.
“I am fine, just trying to concentrate on the lecture,” She answered, her voice sounding dull to her own ears. Every time she was with Ron, she heard a voice telling her how to act around him, compelling her to enjoy his company. Even though Hermione could feel the voice was wrong, she could not stop behaving like Lavender or Parvati or Ron’s mother. She wanted to take care of him, feed him and wait for him whenever he went off to Quidditch practices.
“Let’s skip this and go find somewhere quieter,” Ron told her, a strange gleam in his eyes.
“OK,” her mouth automatically responded. The redhead held out his hand, she tried to fight the compulsion, her own hand hesitating, but then the compulsion came back even more potent. Like a puppet, she was on her feet, following her new boyfriend out of the Great Hall past Harry, who was ignoring them. Ron led Hermione down several corridors winding through Hogwarts until they reached an abandoned classroom off the beaten track. Hermione was unsure where she was but felt it was somewhere down in the dungeons near the Slytherin Common Room. The girl began to shiver, but Ron did not seem to want to offer her comfort, only leading her to a secluded spot.
“You’re looking beautiful today,” Ron muttered as they took a seat on a wooden bench in front of an old desk.
“Thank you, you look very handsome,” her mouth worked mechanically. Ron gave the bushy-haired girl a smile.
“I am so glad you have not talked about any books tonight; when we get married, you will not need to look at books, maybe some cookery books,” Ron told her. Inside, Hermione was raging, but outside she gave the boy a small smile of acknowledgement. His smile got wider before he started kissing her neck. One hand slid up her stomach before finding a covered breast. She felt sick, but her body refused to cooperate as he turned her head, kissing the know-it-all. This was nothing like the sweet kisses she got from Harry; his tongue was forced into her mouth and like a fat slug drooled everywhere. Suddenly she felt Ron’s hand move down, sliding under the dress. As he neared her panties, she slammed her magic through her mind.
“Ron, please stop,” She was able to cry out as he pawed at her knickers. Ron pressed his body closer, allowing her to feel his arousal. “Please, Ron, no.”
“I think the lady asked you to stop,” a smooth voice spoke. Ron found himself physically five feet from Hermione. The girl looked up to see Draco, Neville and Harry with their wands out. Harry almost seemed to be lit up as he stood tall with an air of authority around him. He wore power like it was a cloak, his eyes blazing green with anger. Ron shivered on the floor as he tried to avoid looking at Harry.
“What are you thinking? She is your best friend,” Neville asked, his voice cold and anger filling each syllable. Hermione had never seen the quiet boy so angry.
“She wanted it,” he spat as he got to his feet, but he trembled as Harry took a step forward. Hermione now noticed Theo, who took hold of Harry’s arm while Neville took the other restraining the boy.
“Granger asked you to touch her?” Draco’s mouth dropped.
“She hated the thought of being with Harry, could not wait to be with a real man, Ferret,” Ron snarled. “She begged me for sex.”
“Somehow, I doubt that Weasel,” Draco responded. But the compulsion was back.
“I did. Harry’s a bit of a loser, really. I wanted something a bit more manly,” Hermione felt her mouth move, trying not to look at Harry. She called out to Harry, Neville and Draco in her mind.
“You are telling me you wanted to be with the Weasel?” Draco asked.
“I’m sure he would be better in bed than you, ferret,” Hermione answered. She could see Neville looking at her strangely.
“I’m sorry, Granger,” Draco told her before she suddenly slipped into darkness. She never even heard the spell that hit her.
Hermione woke up slowly, becoming aware that she was in a comfortable bed. The teen did an inventory of her body, her stomach and ribs hurt like she had been throwing up, but she could not remember. Then Hermione realised she was in a nightdress with only her underwear on underneath. Someone had stripped her and put new clothes on. She opened her eyes to sunlight coming through the window. Hermione found herself in a luxurious green bedroom; one whole side was taken up with books while a desk and wardrobe were situated on another wall. She noticed two doors; one must be a bathroom. Looking out the window, she saw the sun showed her it was probably mid-afternoon.