Chapter 22

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December 29, 1976

She stared at the fireplace with trepidation, hoping her gown was sufficient. Hoping she was sufficient.

Hermione hadn't put much thought into the Malfoy gathering, deciding instead to focus on studying, on the Yule Ball, on the things a normal seventeen-year-old witch at Hogwarts should concern herself with.

She'd chosen wine red robes for the ball, off the shoulder, with an empire waist. Her friends had told her she looked older, grown and mature. Those words buoyed her into reusing it for the pure-blood soiree.

"Miss Granger doesn't need to be there," the headmaster adamantly told them as he, Alastor, and Minerva stood in the headmaster's office with them. "In fact, I think she shouldn't."

"I was invited," she said without looking at them, her voice strong despite her nerves.

"And passing on the invitation will make it clear that you do not share Severus' ideals."

"I don't harbor those ideals," Severus countered, with a barely respectful tone.

"But they believe you do, and for this to work, they cannot doubt you."

"Said it before, Albus. Works better if he has a partner. He goes alone, looks bad. Especially when they know he has a bird."

Hermione looked up at Alastor's voice, and saw the headmaster give a smile that made it all too clear that he was surrendering. For the moment.

Alastor looked at her, and she felt him probing at her mind. Her Occlumency shields were already in place and had been since before Christmas, when she realized what was going to happen and how badly she needed to keep her secrets. Severus had taught her how to put things she didn't want anyone to see behind a near-permanent wall, while keeping benevolent thoughts on the surface. She had felt the headmaster probing her mind when they first entered the office, and she suspected her new skill made him believe she was more vulnerable than she really was.

Moody gave a nod of approval. "Get goin', the pair a ya. Stay only as long as is polite, get what info you can, and get out."

Hermione nodded meekly.

"Understood," Severus said, coming to her side and taking her arm. He held her arm tightly as they stepped into the Floo together. He declared, "Malfoy Manor, foyer."

One moment, Hermione could see the concern on Minerva's face, the next, she was spit out of a fireplace with Severus still holding her.

They were both startled by the large-eyed house-elf that greeted them with a shy smile and a flick of its wrist. The soot and dust from the Floo vanished from their formal wear.

"Dobby is to bring Master Severus and guest to the ballroom," the elf explained.

Hermione held on to Severus just a bit more tightly, taking in the manor and the atmosphere.

It was all so jarring in its contrast: the manor was light and welcoming, its opulence grand but not completely outlandish; but the atmosphere was chokingly dark, the aura of more than a couple dozen magical beings with Dark leanings was nearly suffocating.

It only increased upon entering the ballroom.

There were many couples already dancing a quick traditional wizard dance that Hermione knew but doubted she was very good at. There were tables near the back, clustered around what was obviously the head table. From the opposite side of the room, Hermione could feel eyes on them, and only managed a glance at the lone figure in a tall throne-like chair.

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