Chasing Shadows

Chapter Three

Trigger Warning: Draco puts his hand around Hermione's throat.
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Chapter Three

Sometimes, Hermione's scar itched.

For a while, she thought it might be like Harry's. She thought that perhaps, it was dark magic lingering, poisoning and irritating her skin. But could it be more complicated than that? Could it be a symptom of her trauma, a phantom designed to remind?

There were many times when she forgot it was there. When she got busy doing homework or visiting with friends, and it was like she'd never been cursed. But then there were times when she fell asleep after a day of forgetful peace, only to have vivid nightmares of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand cutting into her flesh.

Most of the time, she accepted that it was a part of her now, and that it was better to have a reminder than to be dead.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts class, she walked out into the corridor at the same time that Headmistress McGonagall swept down the hallway in her fluttering violet robes. Hermione glanced to her left, at the Headmistress, before looking ahead.

Draco stood across the hall again. He was taller than the majority of the students milling about on their way to their final classes of the day, and his hair was so white that she could have seen him in the dark. He watched her as she approached him, one hand around the strap of his bag and the other combing his hair backward. His expression was strange. She couldn't discern if he looked pleased, worried, or nervous.

She barely had time to greet him before McGonagall was beside them.

"Good afternoon, Hermione." McGonagall's bright eyes turned strewed as her gaze swept over Draco. "And Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad you're both here. I'm in need of your assistance. Please, follow me."

Hermione and Draco looked at one another with their eyebrows raised before they followed the Headmistress down the corridor. She was already talking, as usual, and Hermione had to tune in and use context clues to figure out what was happening.

"...pically, I would send Argus to do this for me, but he's occupied at the moment. The First Years have been rather tricky this year and frankly, I'd prefer the shenanigans of you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley to what they've managed to cook up."

McGonagall shook her head, pieces of her grey hair escaping the piled nest she'd created atop her head, tucked though it was beneath her pointed velvet hat. She led them to the staircases.

"What do you need us to do, Headmistress?" Hermione asked.

"A group of students reported experiencing some instability on the bridge. With those new planks, you simply can't be too careful," McGonagall replied, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger. "I need someone to study them and stabilize them, if needed. I know you have class, but you have my permission to miss the period so long as you agree to do this for me. As I said, I would have asked Argus, but he is dealing with an issue. The other professors have classes to teach. As the two of you are Head Boy and Head Girl, I decided it would be a task best suited to the two of you. What do you say?"

"I'm happy to help, Headmistress," Hermione said.

"And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at McGonagall—he was much taller than her. He shrugged. "Sure."

"Brilliant! All you need to do is use a stability charm on whichever planks are loose," McGonagall said with a smile. "It won't hold them forever, but it will hold for long enough, until Argus is available to work on a more permanent fix. I do not want any more students walking on that bridge. Do you understand?"