“…And in order to make an object Levitate, what spell do you use?” asked Hermione.
“W… Wingad–Wingrad… Wingardium Leviosa,” said Scorpius finally.
“Good! Can you demonstrate?” Hermione asked with a small smile, producing a feather for Scorpius. An old memory had resurfaced from her first year in Hogwarts. She perfected the spell. This made her think of Ron.
“Wingardium Leviosa,” Scorpius said, swishing his wand. The feather jiggled a little, but did not rise.
“This is hopeless!” Scorpius groaned in exasperation.
“No, it isn’t. You just need to practice the spell. That’s your homework for tonight,” said Hermione. She looked at the clock. “It’s 5 p.m. You are dismissed, Scorpius, and remember to practice Wingardium Leviosa. I want you to have mastered it by tomorrow.”
“Yes, Ms. Renigold,” Scorpius said with a bored sigh. He walked out of the study and Hermione sat down in his chair.
“What a day,” Hermione mumbled. Who knew teaching could be this tiring, she thought. Oh well. At least I can rest for the rest of the night.
I’ve had a tip-off that Potter and his Aurors are planning on raiding the Manor at 7:30. Her husband will be part of the team. We can’t let her see him–or anyone she may know from the Auror team–because she may not cooperate.
I’ve gotten permission from the Ministry to create a Portkey. You make one and take Granger with you. It’ll take you to Albania. Oh, one more thing: DON’T LET GRANGER KNOW IT’S A PORTKEY. Keep it a secret. Make it an object that’s big enough for both of you to grab onto.
Pansy looked up from the letter.
“Bloody Draco!” she screamed. Pansy sat down. “So I’m do all the work now, huh?” She put together a handful of curses before grumbling and stomping off to find something to use as a Portkey.
It was 7 o’clock. Pansy had created her Portkey and was going to use it at 7:25. She and Hermione were sitting at the dinner table listening to Lucius drone on and on about his time at the Ministry.
“…The boy treated me with absolute disrespect!” Lucius declared angrily.
“Oh, calm down, Lucius. It happened hours ago,” Narcissa said, shaking her head as she wrote a letter.
“Mrs. Malfoy, who are you writing to?” Hermione asked curiously. Narcissa looked up. “I am writing to my sister, Andromeda. She was telling me about Draco’s cousin, Teddy. He is in the process of moving with the Potters, I believe, and–oh, sorry. You probably do not know of the Potters–”
“Oh, yes, I know of them,” Hermione said quickly. More than you think. Pansy shot her a stern look.
“Yes, well. Andromeda is going to move in to the house next to the Potters so she can be close to Teddy. Potter is his godfather.”
“Oh, yes, I know that,” Hermione said with a small smile. Narcissa gave her an odd look.
“Yes,” Pansy said awkwardly. She looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:20. “Er–G-Charice? I had a question about this passage in one of my books. I figured you knew it and I just remembered to ask.”
“Okay,” Hermione said carefully, raising an eyebrow. She followed Pansy out of the room and into the entrance hall.
“Where’s the book?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms..
“It’s on page, er, twenty,” Pansy said impatiently. “Here.” She thrust the book into Hermione’s unsuspecting hands.
“Ooh! This is heavy!” Hermione groaned. Pansy ignored her. The book would activate as a Portkey in a minute or two. Hermione paced, reading the book, oblivious of the faint light blue glow that was starting at the spine of the book. Pansy realized Hermione was nowhere in sight.
“Granger? I–Charice? Charice!” shouted Pansy, running down the corridor. She followed the blue light that was growing stronger and stronger by the minute.
Hermione looked up from the book and saw the light.
“PARKINSON!” Hermione screamed. She tried to let go of the book but was unable to.
As Pansy ran to Hermione, she heard a part of the Manor exploding. Potter’s here! she thought and ran faster.
Hermione was rooted to the spot and the book was rooted in her hands. But when Pansy ran into the room, she got there in time to see Hermione, with her mouth open like she was going to say something, get whisked away. She swore and froze when she heard someone’s voice behind her.
“Drop your wand behind you and turn round,” said a calm yet threatening voice. Pansy stood still.
“I said, drop your wand behind you and turn around,” repeated the voice. Pansy ignored it, slowly turning.
“Expelliarmus!” said the voice and Pansy’s wand flew out of her hand. The person owning the voice stepped in front of Pansy.
“Why, Ms. Parkinson,” Blaise Zabini drawled, “to what… do I owe the pleasure?”