Slow Grenade

Chapter Thirty-Five

The happiness she had felt the previous night was short-lived.

Harry had experienced another vision, this time of Mr Weasley being attacked. They were lucky that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore had been so open-minded about the situation, meaning Ron's father could be swiftly found and taken to St Mungo's Hospital.

Unfortunately, this greatly disrupted Hermione and Draco's plans to spend the holidays together as she was now residing at Grimmauld Place. Draco had been surprisingly gracious about the situation, and she knew she would need to make it up to him.

After spending the majority of Christmas Eve decorating the dark hallways and dingy rooms of Sirius' former home, she had decided it was time to set up an intervention for Harry and his current brooding.

Hermione hammered hard on his door. "I know you're in there," she said. "Will you please come out? We want to talk to you."

After a few minutes she heard footsteps and the door creaked open a fraction. "We?"

Without giving Harry any warning, she, Ron, and Ginny marched into the bedroom.

"How're you feeling?" Hermione asked.

"Fine," he replied stiffly.

It took a while, but she and the two Weasleys eventually got Harry to talk about why he'd been avoiding any and all human contact since getting back from St Mungo's. He was worried that Voldemort had possessed him and might do it again.

Hermione sighed with frustration, if he had just told them sooner, he wouldn't have had to go through this alone. Why did all the males in her life have such difficulties sharing their thoughts and feelings?

Christmas came and went, and a new term began at Hogwarts. Harry, much to his chagrin, had started Occlumency lessons and Hermione was trying to manage his increasingly despondent moods. The Daily Prophet that arrived one bitterly cold morning in January did nothing to improve things.

She spread the newspaper on the breakfast table in front of her, Harry, and Ron. She couldn't help but gasp at what faced them. Ten black-and-white photographs filled the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and a crime.

The headline read: MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN. MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS.

Hermione looked across the Great Hall and caught Draco's eye. She could see her own panic reflected in his expression. He glanced towards the doors, his usual indication for an immediate meeting, but she shook her head. There was an important owl she had to send first.

"Fuck," was all he said, striding towards her when they were finally able to meet.

Hermione nodded. "The Azkaban guards have joined Voldemort."

Draco sat down heavily next to her and she curled into him. "Yes, they have."

"I can't believe Fudge is still trying to cover it all up, it's ridiculous."

"I know," he said, rubbing small circles into her back. "I know."

"Your Aunt is free too," Hermione said, gently. "Where do you think she'll go?"

He shrugged. "I imagine it won't take long before she and her husband visit the Manor."

"Do you know much about her?"

"No, not really, I was barely two years old when she was sent to Azkaban," Draco recalled. "From what I've heard, it's a very bad thing that she's free. Bella has been a fervent supporter of the Dark Lord from a young age."

They were silent for a while, there was little to be said. Both struggled to tolerate uncertainty, and the current situation was the definition of a waiting game.

Draco decided to change the subject.

"So," he smirked, "are you available on Valentine's Day, Granger?"

"I have plans in the afternoon, but I'm around in the morning," she replied. "Why?"

His jaw clenched. "Plans?"

"Yes, I'm meeting Harry at the Three Broomsticks."

"You are meeting Potter on Valentine's Day?"

Hermione suddenly realised why this might be problematic and gave him a quick kiss. "Sorry, Draco, I'm just –" she paused, thinking. "Do you remember when Rita Skeeter went, erm, missing?"

Choosing to ignore this somewhat bizarre turn of events, he nodded.

"So, I found out that she was an unregistered Animagus and might have trapped her in a... jar."

He choked. "You did what?!"

"I made sure she was relatively comfortable!" Hermione said defensively. "There's plenty of greenery in there, Draco."

"I'm really not sure if I'm turned on or terrified right now," he gaped, before recovering himself. "What does this have to do with you spending Valentine's Day with Potter?"

"I'm meeting Harry and Rita on the 14th so that she can interview him, get him to tell the true account of what's been happening. People need to start believing that Voldemort is back."

"You'll never get the Prophet to print it," Draco countered. "Everyone thinks Potter's delusional."

"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them," said Hermione irritably.

"So, what then?"

"The Quibbler," she smiled. "Luna says her father's quite happy to take Harry's interview. That's who'll be publishing it."

"No one will take it seriously if it's published there!"

"Some people won't," said Hermione in a level voice. "But the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn't a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it's published in an... unusual magazine, I think they might still be rather keen to read it."

Draco wasn't sure, but it was the best option they had at the moment. The wizarding world needed to prepare, and the propaganda currently in circulation was helping no one.

"So, what do you want to do on Valentine's Day?" Hermione asked, nudging his side.

He smiled, pressing his lips to her temple. "It's a surprise."