Anyone But Me

Chapter Fifty-Five

Another chapter that is from the books (Chapter 21, The Unknowable Room, HP&tHBP). Fair warning that some of the dialogue has been tweaked slightly if it seems off.

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The question kept nagging at her over the following days. It became a near constant unwanted litany that was always there. Waiting for a slow moment, where her mind wasn't distracted by schoolwork or her other responsibilities, to creep up and badger her already frayed nerves.

How?... How?... How?

And the same stifling quiet that had met her inquiry that night always answered her. What more could she do when he had spurned her attempt to convince him to go to someone for actual help?

Other than betray him and reach out herself...

An option that kept coming back during her ruminations. She hated the thought. Deceiving Draco after gaining the meager amount of trust she had would be absolutely unforgivable. Tantamount to Delilah's treasonous actions against Samson and that was if he was incorrect and Narcissa Malfoy was somehow saved. If she ended up perishing... Hermione would be lucky to survive long with the witch's blood on her hands.

So she respectfully refrained, worried about what her inaction could also lead to. Her dreams brought to life her mute imaginings in horrible detail. It surprised her that no one picked up on the more obvious signs of the underlying tension in her life. From the copious volume of caffeine she ingested every day to the way she stiffened every time she walked into the Great Hall. Stealing herself for the day that the mood at the Slytherin table altered her to the fact that something had happened... Everything about her decorum felt wrong.

Granted she worked hard to continue to project that everything was fine. Maybe better than fine considering how things with Ron were slowly working their way to normal. That is as long as he wasn't having to run off to placate the suckerfish about spending purely platonic time with her... The spiteful part of her enjoyed that she got under the girl's skin, even Harry always being with them did little to staunch Lavender's jealousy.

A little over a week after Draco's unexpected visit, Hermione sat in front of the crackling fire in the common room with Harry and Ron. She had just handed Ron back his essay on dementors, which had been thoroughly mangled by a worn out Spell-Check quill, when all of a sudden a loud pop pierced the relaxed stillness.

Her squeal of surprise was quickly cut off as Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Kreacher!"

Ron's use of some of the more fouler curses he knew became background noise to Kreacher's bowed greeting. "Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give..."

Another crack produced Dobby at the older house elf's side, looking rather frazzled with his tea-cozy hat lopsided on his head and a disgruntled glare for his companion. "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter! And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!"

She sat there frozen in shock as her eyes flicked between Harry and the two elves in turn. The realization of what the sudden appearances and unexpected words meant took a few seconds to sink in. When it finally did, she tried to keep her anger in check as she asked for verification. "What is this? What is going on Harry?"

"Well... They... They've been following Malfoy for me." He admitted hesitantly.

"Night and day." Confirmed Kreacher, who continued to stare at his toes with a baleful glare.

"Dobby has not slept in a week, Harry Potter!" Dobby interjected proudly. The house elf swayed slightly, as if suddenly registering just how sleep-deprived his little body was.