Chapter Text
Order HQ – 12 Grimmauld Place
How many times do one's plans – rather brilliant plans if we are being frank – have to be ignored before one can simply tell the brilliant plan ignorers to bog the fuck off! Hermione Granger has decided that the immeasurable number of times Kingsley, Harry, Ron and the rest of the self-interested Order have dismissed he has finally reached the tipping point.
Why you ask? Oh well if the last 3 years since the spectacular failure of the battle Hogwarts was any indication the Order seems far more interested in making its male leaders feel smart and acting out in pissy fights with the Dark Lords army instead of fighting for the ‘light’ or whatever bullshit they had sold them.
Hermione is well aware that this is a ridiculous notion for her to have, of course, the side fighting against the people who deem her unworthy of her magic, who sneer at the thought of muggles being any less than beasts, and who worship at the feet of a reincarnation of a once hot now snakey looking racist bigot. Did I say hot, well can’t blame a girl when all you’ve got for male company is a bunch of shit for brains, self-involved gits that honestly are no competition to the snakes. Mmmmm the snakes – now don’t tell anyone because Hermione will deny it with her dying breath but - a certain few snakes, no matter how pratty, or blonde had always been quite pretty in Hermione’s mind.
So Hermione is now faced with three choices – but really staying with the Order isn’t a viable one anymore, especially after her catastrophic outburst after the latest failed mission – so two choices. Defect and flee Europe or Defect to the Death Eaters.
This sort of situation requires a pro-con list – NO – better yet a S.W.O.T analysis, yes that is the perfect way to choose her next steps!
Ok, first up strengths:
For defecting
- Being free of the Order!
- Not having to look at any of the Weasley’s faces – especially not Ronald's.
- Free of the pawing hands of Cormac Mclaggen!
For fleeing Europe
- Being nowhere near the Order or the bloody war ever again!
- Not being fucking cold all the fucking time (Peru does sound lovely).
For joining the Death Eaters
- Unsurprisingly few – apart from seeing her secret Slytherin study buddy – but the opportunities section should wield more results!
Weaknesses:
Defecting
- None, she could not care any less so they can all sod off!
Fleeing Europe
- Not being able to kill Ronald Weasley!
- Potential for boredom?
- Actually, being able to find her parents - and fix them?
- What other excuse could she come up with for using a cheeky unforgivable or two?
Joining the Death Eaters
- Potential chance of being killed/tortured/maimed/ and other unfortunate things immediately upon arrival.
- Bullying.
- Blonde Prat finding out she’s got the hots for him.
Opportunities – yes there will be many:
Fleeing Europe
- Learn a new Language, or three.
- Actually start a life – heck she is twenty-one and still hasn’t lived a normal day in over four years.
Joining the Death Eaters
- Gaining some control over the rather indelicate curses that had formed her recent fascination.
- Using everything she knows about the Order to the Death Eaters and her own advantage.
- Being able to kick some Weasley ass and eventually one day being able to send a lovely sliver of green light towards Ronald Weasley’s stupid face.
- Maybe just maybe Blonde Prat liking her back.
Threats
Fleeing Europe
- The war spreading to wherever she is.
- Some other wizards being cunts wherever she goes.
Joining the Death Eaters
- Her connection to the living world via the wrath of a bunch of crazy people.
- The wrath of the Order when they find out their prized mud blood has joined the people who hate her kind.
Looking down at her parchment, her now empty quill in hand, the answer – though laughable – was as clear to her as day.
Yes, well that has made up her mind; but for a successful transfer of sides, one must first plan. The first thing Hermione needs to do is start gathering information, because though she knows many many things, the Order does not tell her everything, but for her perfect plan of information exchange the information must be reliable – so some sleuthing is in Order.
Next, to ascertain certainty of a non-torturous welcome party to the Dark Lord’s army one must have a contact – lucky for Hermione that Theo Nott was her super secret study buddy up until mid-sixth year. If Harry and Ron thought that their book-wormy friend didn’t have anyone with her in the library apart from when they joined her only to complain – well, they were very wrong. The contacting of said study buddy was a bit of a conundrum, until Hermione remembered their secret code sent through charmed bookmarks, now Hermione of course would never dare to dog-ear a book and Theodore was of the same belief that such sins were unforgivable so surely, surely he would have kept the gift she had made for him all the way back in third year, right?
-Dearest Tie, I fear I bore with my side of certain choices. Any room for me in the snake pit? Love, Hanger -
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
There is categorically no way this is happening right now – fuck – fuck – oh shit.
Theodore Nott had a glass of Draco’s third oldest Ogdens in his hand five seconds after re-reading Granger’s message for the fifth time because there is no way the swotty, golden princess of Gryffindor, his former secret study buddy and even more secretly (even to her) best friend is saying what he thinks she is saying!
ALSO, she still has the bookmark – oh his book-loving heart melts – Theo remembers the day she produced them in January of their third year, after starting a non-committal studying situation in November of that year, the great swot was over the inconsistency and secretly Theo thought perhaps a little lonely after their Christmas break. Their coded language was of his own making, and he was extremely happy when Hermione flung herself at him for his genius. The nicknames came later on, over the summer of that year when both of the swots (let's be honest Theo could not deny he existed on the scale) were particularly lonely.
“What’s so interesting on that old ass bookmark that has got your knickers in a twist Theodore?” Blaise’s usual gentle entrances stirred Theo out of his thoughts. “Quickly before I tell Drake that you raided his liquor cabinet again!” Blaise stated, knocking his foot against Theo’s outstretched legs.
“Oh darling, how I have missed your sweet sweet words. Though I fear we may need Draco at this very moment, there is a lion in need of rescuing.” Theo’s eyes scrutinised Blaise’s every movement, discerning his reaction.
And reaction he got. “Theo?” Blaise responded, accusatory in his question. “Since when have you had a lion in your eye? I mean honestly who would be speaking to you through a fucking bookmark?” It was at this moment Draco sauntered into the drawing room.
“What’s this about lions and bookmarks? Theo you aren’t reading that muggle book about wardrobes again are you?” The disgusted tone – a mechanism built up over Draco’s years of indoctrination - masked any true feelings associated with the muggles, especially since Theo knew Draco and his need to consume books almost as fast as Granger.
“Well you see lads, we may have a refugee – a fantastically smart one, pretty too if that’s your kinda slice – who may want to join our merry band” The looks on both the boys' faces told Theo that if he didn’t cut the crap and give some straight answers he was not going to be forgiven for the whiskey or his fairy language anytime soon. “So you see back in Hogwarts, I may have …collected an unusual friend who was a very good study partner, but well… you both wouldn’t have approved so I kept her my little secret. This” he says holding up the bookmark “was our way to communicate, and it seems the lion finds the snake pit a more preferable home.”
“Theo if you don’t tell me who the fuck thinks joining the Death Eaters would be a far more enjoyable time than prancing around with the Order right now I am going to hit you!” Draco stated his brow furrowing as he tried to unriddle the secret so long held.
“Well you see Hermio-“
A choking sound, a chair screeching across the hardwood floor, and a hyena-type laugh from Blaise accompanied Draco's shocked interruption “GRANGER?!”
“Yes Granger, she was actually a lot more fun than you sometimes Draco. Anyway, Hermione and I have been friends since third year, and you see she and I had to keep the whole thing very hush-hush, not just from the snakes but also her pride of lions. So when everything happened back in sixth year she sent me her last message-” ‘I’m going away tie, I probably won't see you again, but maybe when the war is over. I’ll miss you, Hanger.’ “That was until just now, where it seems that the Order – more likely Potter and Weasel – have not been utilising that beautiful brain of hers.”
“No shock there, they’ve been fucking useless the last year and a half – not a chance any of those were her ideas” Blaise ruminated – at least he respects her brain.
“Yes, thank you, and now it seems that she thinks that the darker side of this here bookmark will be more her speed.”
“Probably wants to enjoy more of Draco’s winning personality.” The payment for that statement was a swift kick to Blaise’s shin. “Ow fuck, I know you’re not a lanky cunt anymore, but your feet are still fucking pointy!”
“What the fuck does Granger think she can do here, surely she doesn’t think we will all just except her muddy blood here” Theo’s glass was now dry and dripping off the rim, its content sprayed over the blonde-haired prat. “What the f-”
“DO NOT CALL HER THAT!” Theo’s hackles were raised, his protective instincts on full alert after having to dull them all these years. “You will not call her that anymore Draco I swear to Merlin! I had to listen to your abuse of her for years! I had to sit in the furthest corner of the library, under some of the strongest disillusionment I have ever witnessed and hold her as she cried over the bullying you, Parkinson and the rest of the bloody snakes dealt out to her! So you will not call her that again, yes?” With the shocked nod of agreement from Draco, and for safety Blaise, finalised that.
“Right ok whatever, do you really think she would actually join us, honestly? I’m not saying she isn’t smart – bloody witch took the top spot in everything but potions – nor am I saying she can’t hold her owner, not since she’s kept the dunder-twins alive since first year. I mean she is a muggle-born Theo – literally the object of ire to our cause – and not only that she is THE muggle-born, Potter’s mud-muggle-born. Do you really think that Voldemort would let her live for even a second if she came here, let alone join us?”
“I don’t know ok Draco, really! This just happened, I’m still processing the fact I got a message from the person I secretly thought of as my best friend for the first time in over four years – sorry boys she was – so don’t go all flying off the broom on me ok!”
“What if we met up with her first, and saw how your little lion has faired, surely the birds' nest couldn’t have gotten worse?” Theo couldn’t hit Blaise for his jab, he had affectionately said her hair alone should have landed her in Ravenclaw tower many a time.
“Draco?”
“Yeah fine” he sighed with resignation, “a secret meeting with the princess, what’s the harm?”
So the message was sent back to the little lion, the meeting time and place already suggested, and now all they had to do was wait…