The Silver Envelope

Ignoma's Speech

"Knock, knock!" Ginny said, sticking an elbow through the crack of Hermione's office door and rounding the corner holding a large parcel.
"Ginny! I didn't expect to see you here today," Hermione said, looking up from the large stack of paperwork she had been ploughing through all afternoon.
"I know," Ginny said, setting the parcel down on the small corner of Hermione's desk that wasn't covered in her work. "I came because it's eight o'clock and I knew you'd forget to eat supper again. I brought Chinese.
Glancing at the clock with shock, Hermione realized she had lost track of time. She stood, stretching out her achy muscles.
Ginny was unloading food all over the desk. Flicking her wand, Hermione sent the parchment flying into neat stacks on some nearby shelves to clear some room for the food.
"Harry says hi," Ginny said, opening a container of kung pao chicken and sniffing the fragrant steam rising from it. "Oh, and we figured out what we're gonna do about the wedding."
"Do tell," Hermione said, snapping apart a pair of chopsticks and digging into some chow mein.
"January, we decided. Mum wanted to do it in spring, but we're eager to have the whole thing over and done with. She's not happy with me, but she'll survive," she said.
"Won't it be terribly dreary in January?" Hermione said.
Ginny swallowed a large mouthful of food before speaking.
"Probably. Which is why we're going to have it in Barbados," she said.
Hermione nearly choked on her noodles.
Are you serious? A destination wedding?"
"Why not?" Ginny said, shrugging. "We're going to be taking all that time off anyway. We can set up portkeys for everyone who can't apparate, and the weather will be perfect. We'll all eat fresh grilled fish and Harry and I'll say our I do's while wearing bathing suits. It's perfect," she said.
"I would pay a handful of Galleons to watch you tell your mother that last bit of the plan," Hermione said, smiling into her food while Ginny grimaced.
It felt good to smile, as those had been in rather short supply lately.
It had been nearly two months since the day she and Ron had broken things off. She'd intended to stay with Harry and Ginny, only to find that Ron had removed all his things from their flat that very night, going to stay at the Burrow instead. Hermione had been feeling lonely at the flat all by herself, with only Crookshanks to keep her company, but that was the least of her problems.
The day after the Daily Prophet had run the article about SOCKS, the gossip columns started pouring out rumors about her. Somehow, the news that she and Ron were over had been leaked-and even worse, they also knew that he had suspected her of cheating. Most of the gossip was bogus, but one had reported that Hermione had been spotted out with an unidentified bloke at a
muggle restaurant in Mayfair that night, which was unnerving to say the least.
Hermione had been laying low waiting for the gossip to die down, but now she was being pushed to put herself back into the public eye. The big Christmas Charity Ball was coming up, and she had agreed to be a main organizer for it ages ago. The members of S.P.E.W. had joined with several other organizations, including the Wizard-Muggle Alliance Group and the Hogwarts LGBT Rights Coalition, to host the event and raise money for their respective causes. It was a big deal, and Hermione knew she needed to pull herself together well beforehand.
"To be honest, I made Harry tell her the plan," Ginny said sheepishly. "She likes him better, so I figured it would be easier on everyone."
"What a brave Gryffindor you are," Hermione teased, dodging the egg roll Ginny lobbed at her
head.
"Oh, I had something else for you as well," Ginny said, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Another one of these arrived at our place for you. Whoever's sending them must want to talk to you very badly."
Ginny tossed a silver envelope onto Hermione's desk. Suddenly her food felt like lead in her stomach.

Dozens of letters had reached her over the past few weeks, and every last one of them had gone
straight into the fire, unopened. Hermione was not willing to give Draco even the smallest chance to manipulate her again, no matter how curious she was about what he had written.
It was another reason to feel guilty, her confusion about Draco. She had just ended a long-term relationship with one of her oldest friends, but that hadn't bothered her half as much as Draco's betrayal.
She should have seen it coming. It's not as though Slytherins are known for their honesty and valor. Malfoy in particular had always been a devious little prat. And after the way he had behaved toward Ron on Halloween.. she should have figured it out then.
Instead, she had spent several days home from work, moping. When she had come back to her office, the sight of the flowers he had sent offered a fresh and painful reminder of everything that had happened. She'd had to call for the janitorial staff to come clean them up, unable to bear doing it herself. After that, she had issued a notice to security to ban Draco from making his way to level four to see her in person. She had spoken to Ignoma as well, letting her know that Draco was not to attempt to contact her again.
And after all that, he still found ways to get letters to her.
She shoved it unceremoniously into a drawer, planning to burn it later.
"Thanks, Ginny," she said, putting down an empty container of fried rice.
"Hey, are you doing alright? With...y'know, everything?" Ginny asked kindly.
Hermione suppressed a sigh.
"I'm coping," she said simply.
"Okay," said Ginny, looking unconvinced.
Hermione watched as she poked her chopsticks around a box of noodles that had gone cold. Ginny looked like she had something else to say, something she was avoiding.
"What is it?" Hermione said, wary.
Ginny looked like a child who had been caught breaking a rule.
"Nothing!" she said, the picture of guilt.
"What is it?" Hermione repeated, getting impatient.
Ginny sucked in a nervous breath, her words coming out all at once on a puff of air.
"Ron's bringing a date to the Christmas ball."
Hermione blinked. On the wall behind her, a clock ticked loudly.
Ginny looked as though she was waiting for Hermione to explode into pieces. Grimacing, she fiddled with an empty food wrapper.
"A date?" Hermione said, making certain she had heard correctly.
"Mm," Ginny mumbled noncommittally, looking around the office as though seeing it for the first
"To...to the Christmas Charity Ball? My Christmas Charity Ball?" she asked.
Ginny examined her nails.
"He, erm, he said because Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is a sponsor of S.P.E.W., and because he and George were invited ages ago, that he's going to go.
Hermione sat back, looking up to the ceiling numbly. She felt dizzy.
She couldn't uninvite him now. It would cause even more gossip and rumors to spread.
Hermione snapped her head to look at Ginny again.
"Who's his date?" she asked.
"He won't say, of course. Says we'll find out at the ball," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "It's like the Yule Ball all over again. Except this time I'm not going with Neville." Two months. Two months and Ron had already moved on, or so he would like her to believe.
Members of the Weasley family, the press, all their sponsors, and many old friends from Hogwarts would be attending this ball. And he would have a date. And she would show up alone.
*I have a date as well," Hermione blurted, surprising herself.
Ginny's eyebrows nearly went through the roof.
"You're seeing someone?" she said, aghast.
"No, no I'm not seeing anyone," Hermione said quickly. "I'm just bringing...a friend."
Ginny narrowed her eyes.
"A friend? Who?"
Hermione had absolutely no idea. Instead of coming clean, she fixed her face into what she hoped was a mysterious smile.
"You'll see at the ball," she said.
Ginny groaned, loudly complaining about petty exes and their antics as Hermione vanished the
remnants of their supper.
By the time Ginny had gone home, Hermione was feeling a bit frantic.
She had so much work to do, and on top of it all, she now had to find a date to her own stupid ball.
What horrible timing she had, breaking up with Ron just before the holidays.
As she packed up her bag for the night, a small knock at her doorway made her look up.
Ignoma was standing there, wearing a posh winter coat and earmuffs, a large stack of assorted envelopes and rolls of parchment in her arms
"Begging your pardon, madam, but Ignoma's come to deliver some more responses to the Christmas Ball invitations. Where would madam like them?" she asked.
"Oh, over there, I suppose," Hermione said, vaguely waving her hand to a cabinet in the corner of her office. Ignoma had to stretch high on her toes to deposit the letters. When the elf turned around, she was wearing an odd expression one Hermione was becoming annoyed with.
"What is it, Ignoma?" she asked, instantly regretting how cross she sounded.
Ignoma shuffled her feet, looking down.
"Ignoma's not meant to say, madam. Ignoma should leave madam be.
The elf turned to leave.
"Why? Is Malfoy ordering you to keep some kind of secret from me?" Hermione asked, her tone bristly.
Ignoma shook her head.
"Not Mr. Malfoy. Madam is the one stopping Ignoma from speaking," she said.
"Me?" Hermione said, confused.
"Madam told Ignoma not to speak to her about Mr. Malfoy. Madam said that no matter what, Ignoma is never to speak to madam about Mr. Malfoy again. But..
The elf trailed off, looking extremely worried about saying this next part.
"But madam is not Ignoma's boss," she finished, holding her chin up.
Dumbfounded, Hermione just stared at the elf, who continued bravely through a trembling voice.
"Ignoma is a free elf! Ignoma can choose not to follow some orders, if she wishes. And Ignoma wishes to tell madam that.. that Mr. Malfoy did not do anything wrong!"

Hermione felt her mouth fall open.
"Mr. Malfoy is a good man, madam. He is the best man Ignoma has ever met," the elf said stubbornly. "Mr. Malfoy did not help Ignoma, did not offer her fair wages and clothes, did not allow Ignoma to join the fight for elfish rights, did not donate to madam's charity for all that time only to manipulate madam for his personal gain! Madam has done Mr. Malfoy a great injustice in cutting him off from speaking to her."
Hermione suddenly felt rather dizzy. Knees weak, she fell back into her chair, thinking. Ignoma waited for her to process her words for a moment, fiddling with the buttons on her coat.
The elf had a point, Hermione had to admit. It was rather a long con, now that she thought about it, and the fact that Ron had seen the flowers at all had been purely coincidence.
"Did he send you here to tell me that?" Hermione asked the elf.
"No, madam," she responded. "Ignoma came to speak to madam of her own volition. Ignoma was...worried about Mr. Malfoy.
"Worried? Why?" Hermione demanded.
Ignoma returned to shuffling her feet, avoiding Hermione's eyes.
"Ignoma has already said too much, madam. Ignoma feels loyal to Mr. Malfoy. She does not want to spread his personal business."
With that, the elf curtsied and bid her goodnight.
Head spinning, Hermione sat, listening to the clock on her wall tick the seconds away.
Finally, with a headache blooming behind her eyes, Hermione made her decision.
She opened the drawer of her desk and drew out the silver envelope bearing her name.
Hermione,
I would promise to stop writing after this, except that I seem to be incapable of stopping. On the off chance that vou read this, I hope that I sound as sincere as I am.
Please believe me. I didn't know Weasley would see those flowers. I didn't contrive to break the two of you apart. I truly did just want to support S.P.E. W., and I thought you'd like some flowers.
However, I'm not entirely guiltless. I can't pretend I like Weasley, or that I think you should be with him. But aside from silently rooting for his downfall, I can say in all honestly that I did not do anything wrong, and I especially did not intentionally meddle in your relationship.
God, I don't sound believable at all. I would never speak to me again, either.
No matter what, I wish you the best, Hermione. You
've never deserved anything but the absolute
best.
Sincerely,
DM
Hermione swallowed past the large lump that had formed in her throat. Her cheeks were wet with
tears, her eyes stinging.
Damn it. Damn him for making her believe him.