Chapter 35
Harry furrowed his brow. Why would Malfoy leave before having put some insult in towards Harry? What was the purpose of coming here tonight, if Malfoy didn't even come torturing him about how the Ministry was cutting his wings?
Even a remark on the 'Mudblood servant' could've been expected?
Hermione!
Fear spread inside Harry, when he realised Hermione could be alone in that hallway right now with the bastard Malfoy. Without showing any emotion, though, he excused himself from his party, and made purposefully to the doors leading to the Hallway. It wouldn't do to create a scene, and Malfoy wouldn't dare do anything in Harry's own mansion.
But even so, the thought of Hermione alone with the vile bastard was enough to spur him on.
***
Hermione realised too late she'd made a mistake when she'd taken a step away from the drunken wizard. Taking a step back was as much as declaring defeat: she should've stood her ground… Trying to regain some level of control, she tried to reason - a futile effort - with trembling voice:
"Mr. Malfoy, I know not of what you're accusing me! I am simply…"
He interrupted, almost spitting in her face: "Do not li-… lie to me! You may look all… -ll respectable in that f-fancy dress, but we… we all know what you really a- are! You're nothing but a Mud… a Mudblood! A…"
Whatever vile thing the blond man was going to throw at her next, she would probably never find out, because at that point, his eyes rolled back and he crumbled at her feet.
Hermione's control broke momentarily, and she shivered uncontrollably. Bringing her hand to her chest, she belatedly started to massage her arm where Malfoy had abused the flesh before. She felt the pent-up tension of fear resolving, leaving her weak. Vaguely, she noticed Harry standing there, with flaming eyes, and his wand at hand.
This vision, though, jilted her practical side back to the forefront. Kneeling over the fallen wizard, she checked Mr. Malfoy for nasty bruises.
***
Disbelievingly Harry saw how Hermione started acting all maternal on the Slytherin snake that had threatened her just moments ago. How could she even care? Wasn't she supposed to faint or something?
Apparently not, since she was hovering her wand over the bastard, methodically checking his well-being.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Harry couldn't help but hiss out.
He saw the witch looking up sharply. But instead of fear or shame, or anything that could be expected, he saw reproach. Taken aback, he didn't understand why he was being rebuked: he'd been her hero, hadn't he? So she was supposed to be grateful! He couldn't indulge in his feelings of hurt pride for long, since her calm voice reached him, talking sense into him.
"This gentleman was your guest! People will not take this lightly, sir: you assaulting your guests in your own house!"
Harry was about to point out that Malfoy had been the one to attack her, and that the slimy git was anything but a gentleman! The governess didn't leave him that opportunity, though.
"It won't do to have people know this, because I'm still just a Mudblood to them, regardless of the pretty dress! However, it will be much more simpler and discreet, if the gentleman here passed out from too much liquor! So if you will help me, that is what happened here!"
As reluctant as he was to admit she was making a good case, he knew this wasn't the time to argue. It would solve the matter without any scandal…
***
Hermione was up in her room, recovering from the earlier events. Well, the Ball proved to be… exciting… at the least… that is, at least the peripheral happenings…
Staring at the dress Mrs. Weasley had her wear and was now laid out on her bed, she was glad Harry had acted when he had. She wouldn't have liked Mr. Malfoy witnessing her transform into an animal, which she was ready to do to flee his grip. This way, that little secret was still hers, and hers alone.
Rummaging in her potions supply, she found some belladonna. She wasn't one to drug herself, but she could use the calming effect right now. Stirring her tea, she went about loosening her curls from the fancy hairdo.
Half-heartedly, she listened to the dying noises downstairs. She wondered how much longer the inebriated people were going to impose on the Potter hospitality. Knowing she had no right to think such a remark, even if it was only in her head, she tried to shrug off her annoyance.
Earlier, Harry had called Dobby to arrange Mr. Malfoy to be taken to his mansion by his own House Elves. But by then Hermione had been instructed to leave for upstairs, so that no suspicion would link the passing out of Mr. Malfoy to Hermione's presence.
It was a prudent course to be taken, for sure, but even so, Hermione could see Harry was struggling to keep his demeanour calm. She only hoped nothing more would come of it, though, even when that thought of hope was crossing her mind, she knew it was in vain.
Harry wouldn't leave it at that. He had played his reluctant part now, because of the threat of scandal. However, he would at least demand from her what had happened.
Hermione knew, though, this would never be an option. She knew too much from own experience how much a secret needed to be guarded. She was not about to divulge Miss Weasley's and Mr. Malfoy's without good reason.
And there was no good reason to be detected from where she was standing. Surely, she knew too little about the Malfoy family to fully comprehend the implications on their end. But Mrs. Arthur Weasley's tale had instructed her enough to have at least an inkling of what compromising political situation could be caused by this involvement of the two parties, if it ever were to become public knowledge.
She couldn't trust Harry to respond reasonably to this secret. He cared deeply for the Weasleys, and after all, Miss Weasley lived with him as a sister. His reaction to Mr. Malfoy in general didn't make her confidence grow in Harry's calm.
Moreover, the implications made about an official union between Harry an Miss Weasley had been nagging on her feelings. Indeed they were not brother and sister, even if lately she had managed to forget this. Caution, on occasion, had been thrown away on her part, and doubt began to worm itself in more and more.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she was in deep thought, and didn't mind the time passing…
****
Thanks to all reviewers, your kind critique is always too much praise!
Parcheezie: There will be no kicking Hermione!
thewhiterider91: I'm sorry, I've been asked to do this before, but in my experience, if you say 'yes' to one person, suddenly everyone wants a personalised warning about updates. I have barely time to consecrate on my writing as it is, so you'll understand if I have to decline you're offer… Thanks for the nice things you said about the story, though, that's always encouraging!
Lalia: Oh, heavens! You counted the time… I'm really sorry, but real life has been commanding my attention - it couldn't be helped!
Melody: Glad you appreciate this story! And the way my story was going, I couldn't get Ginny fall for Neville, that would be too easy. This is a story about impossible matches, remember? I'm glad I wrote Mrs. Weasley just so to come across interfering enough, but not too annoying all the same - at least in your opinion! I hope you enjoyed the additional chapters?