The Gloriana Set

The Way of the Winkweed

Hermione's sleep that night was plagued with unpleasant dreams, less powerful than the nightmares she'd suffered right after the War, but disturbing nonetheless. She kept dreaming of danger, herself running from danger, images of her parents in danger, her friends in danger. Then a particularly vivid scene of Malfoy in danger—no specific danger, just a feeling—and calling her name. This last dream finally woke her, and she found herself sweating and gasping in the dark.

She was in a vile mood at breakfast, and Malfoy's absence in the Great Hall strangely didn't make her feel any better. She was poking at her food, letting Ron and Ginny's Quidditch talk wash over her, when suddenly the voices around her stopped. Hermione looked up to see McGonagall standing beside her.

"Miss Granger, if you will accompany me, please," she said and turned away without waiting for an answer.

Hermione exchanged a baffled look with Ginny and stood up, shouldering her bag and trotting after the Headmistress. McGonagall moved quickly for her age; Hermione was panting once they reached the top of the stairs on the third floor.

She stopped and stared; a thin black mist blocked the side corridor leading to Ancient Runes. A figure emerged, pale against the mist, and her eyes narrowed. Malfoy.

"Thank you for coming, Headmistress. It's this way," he said.

"What is?" Hermione asked. "Did you conjure this mist?"

"Don't be afraid," Malfoy said.

"I'm not," she snapped. McGonagall stepped through the mist without hesitation, and Hermione followed.

The Headmistress had stopped on the other side, and Hermione stepped around her to see better. Then she also stopped and stared at the opposite wall, the wide stretch of stone at the end of the corridor now covered in blood-red letters: "DIE MUDBLOODS."

"Not again," she breathed.

"Explain, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall's voice was cold.

"I can't." Malfoy moved past them, stepping closer to the letters, then turned. His face was composed, but one hand clutched the strap of his leather bag tightly. "It was here when I arrived at the classroom."

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy."

He frowned. "As soon as I saw the letters, I blocked the passageway and sent a student to find you."

McGonagall didn't answer, merely handed a parchment to Hermione:

Headmistress,

Please come to the Ancient Runes classroom immediately.

Bring Granger.

Draco Malfoy

Hermione bit her lip. Malfoy's actions, if believed, demonstrated surprisingly good judgment. McGonagall stepped forward to inspect the letters more closely, and Malfoy edged closer to Hermione. She gave him a warning look but he just rolled his eyes, pulling his hand out of his robe pocket. He held a small potions vial, half full with red liquid.

Blood from the message. Hermione stared at him. Damn, another good move. Malfoy stepped closer, pressing the vial into her hand, his fingers lightly brushing her palm, before moving away again. She clutched the vial tightly.

"Miss Granger." McGonagall turned back to face them and Hermione hastily tucked the vial away. "Would you be so kind as to ask Professor Bluebell to join me here? There will, of course, be no Ancient Runes class this morning. You may consider this a free period."

"Yes, Headmistress," Hermione said.

"Mr. Malfoy, you will remain with me, please," McGonagall said, looking back at the letters again.