A hand on the handle, a twist, a pull. Open. Mystery lay beyond, puzzles and tricks. Hermione had forgotten completely about the noise the house was under going. She looked beyond the door. Stairs? She looked back at her room. What could it hurt?
She stepped over the threshold of the new door and into the small hallway. Lanterns lit up like firecrackers and behind her the door slipped closed. She looked around.
“Only way is up,” she whispered stepping on the first step of stairs. Step by step, higher and higher, staircase after staircase, she wound her way toward the top. It was seemingly endless, winding into a confusing circle. Then finally she reached the top.
Circles and circles painted everywhere upon a circular room. Eight doors stood around the place. They spun before her and made her dizzy. She crossed another threshold and felt oddly different. Each door had a different word written upon it in different colored letters. Thrive in brown. Revel in yellow. Undercover in black. Love in red. Expose in blue. Opportunity in purple. Veil in silver. Exist in gold. She walked to the center of the room where a pedestal held a book.
Dear all those to find this room,
To me it was a haven, and escape. My parents have been harsh and cruel at times and they could never find me here. Behind every door I found a way into a new universe. Upon every new discovery more came to me. I suggest that if you are not sharp in wit and in possession of an abundance of patience that you leave now. These rooms are not meant to be discovered in a day nor their secrets unlocked in a year. I myself, as leave this room forever, have not figured out every mystery it holds. May it lead you in the direction you’ve been hoping for. But be wary, with discover comes risks and with risks comes danger.
She read the words quickly and scanned the room again. “Truleove,” she whispered looking at the first letters. “Elreeylt….” The last letter, “Bybrbpsg.” The colors. Gain she turned to look at all the doors. “Thrive…to thrive is to grow…grow…grow..hmmm. I don’t understand.” What did these doors stand for? Suddenly from all the stairs below she heard Mrs. Black’s screaming. For the first time, since it had started, she found it annoying. She quickly climbed back down the endless staircase out the door.
It took her quite some time to get the curtain back over Mrs. Black by herself but finally she got it and climbed back to her room. Once there she went to open the door, only to find it not there anymore. Saddened by this she kicked the empty painting. She shook her head and slid on to her bed.
If you fight love…
You’ll never fall.
If you never fall…
How can I ever catch you?
“God Draco! Why are you always on my mind?” Hermione had almost had it. She sighed and opened her door again. Slipping into the hallways she traveled toward the Black’s library. The past summers it had been far too contaminated to enter but last year, before Dumbledore’s death the clean up had finished.
She smiled at the book shelves. However she frowned at the books. All of them were by death eaters, quite a few by Malfoy’s grandfather. One book caught her eye however.
The Truth Of Being A Male In The Malfoy Family
She pulled it out and to her surprise another bookshelf appeared. Upon it were millions of books by muggle authors. She pulled off millions of them, some she’d read and others she hadn’t. Smiling she carried the pile of books up to her room then she went back down to see if she could find any books on the black family. None. Not even some written by them. She wanted to find out more about that room. However she did find a few on black magic, and one book with a reference to hidden things.
“I’ve got it!” Hermione groaned as the sword flew off her neck and grew to its normal size.
“Yes?” Hermione asked it as it floated behind her. She’d come to find it more annoying then helpful. ‘Kind of like the truth.’ She thought bitterly.
“What was so strange! I’ve figured it out!” Hermione turned to face the sword.
“What was it? Oh please do tell me.” The sword danced and floated ahead of her, that great golden eye gleaming with joy.
“Virginia wants to love Draco but Hermione hates him.” The sword said it as if nothing else was possible, as if it was the truth.
“What?” Hermione asked raising an eyebrow as she carried her second load of books up the stairs. “How do you figure that? I’m only one person.”
“Not true not true! See, I’ve got it all figured out! When you found out you were a pureblood, your brain automatically created an alternate personality that it thought would best fit what you knew about Virginia…So whenever it seems fit it switched between the two personality…It happens all the time with witches and wizards.” Hermione drop her books. A Shakespeare book hurtled down to the bottom of the staircase. Hermione hardly noticed.
“Are you kidding me? You’re saying I’ve gone bi-polar! Crazy!” She pointed a finger at the sword feeling anger rush to her head. “No! Your solution is simply wrong.” She flipped her hair and walked down the stairs to collect her books.
“Why would the truth lie?” Hermione froze and then turned to face the cheeky sword. Truth…lie? Was it possible for the truth to lie? Leaving her books on the floor she sprinted up the stairs to her room leaving the sword of truth hanging there.
“I’m always abandoned.”
The dark room held but two masked figures. One held his wand tight and braced against the table with his other hand. The second figure loosely held a black bottle. He gave a hiccup but took swig of the liquid. They were silent for the longest time, sitting there, waiting. Finally a door at the front of the room opened and a third masked figure entered the room. This one was female, slender and pampered.
“James. Sirius.” The girl said in a sing song voice nodded to each one. “You understand what this means? What you are going to do to these poor children?”
“Harry knows what could happened. He’s been warned,” came James’ cool voice.
“Been warned? By who!” The woman ripped off her mask and threw it at the man. Her red hair fell onto her shoulders in waves. “This could kill him!”
“He knows. He has a good reason to do it. Hermione is worth it.” Sirius tried to explain to the now furious Lily.
“Hermione! You mean Virginia! She lied to Harry! She’s been lying since the beginning. She had to have known she was a pureblood! That’s not something you guess about!”
“Hermione’s my friend, mother.” Harry felt himself enter the scene with slow confident steps. “She wouldn’t do that to me.” Sirius took another swig of the black bottle.
“Yeah! Some friend she is! She didn’t even say goodbye! Never asked what was wrong! Never tried to figure out why you were at the borrow already! She doesn’t care! She never has. She just wants Voldemort to kill you. You and Ron both!” Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at his mother.
“IMPOSTER!” He shouted. “Hermione is a better friend then anyone could ever hope for! My own mother would know that!” He didn’t hear himself say the spell but it was said. There was a flash of green light. Lily fell with a thud upon the ground.
Harry found himself looking into a crib. The dark room and the two men were gone. He started at a baby boy with unreasonable hatred. Then his wand point at the poor boy and…
Harry’s eyes shot open. He stared at the ceiling for a long time. What an odd dream? They just kept getting worse. Pretty soon he would be killing people who were still alive in his dreams, rather than those who were already dead. At least he was only killing in his dreams but he was getting unsure of how much longer that would last. His plan was working but it was killing him. There was just too much on chance. Voldemort could suddenly change his mind and his plan would blow up in his face. As he thought, he suddenly realized that Ron’s normal snoring wasn’t filling the room.
“Harry you should get some more sleep,” Ron said as Harry swung his legs off his bed. Ron was staring at the ceiling but for different reasons. The black bottle from Harry’s dream sat on the dresser. Harry grabbed a glass and went to pour some. Ron’s hand shot out to stop him. “Not yet. Harry we have to be careful. This stuff is going to come back to haunt us in five years, let’s at least not be stupid about it now. Wait half-an-hour.” Harry nodded and set down both the glass and bottle.
“What are we doing Ron?” he asked sitting back on his bed. Ron sat up and shook his head.
“We’re saving the world. At the expense of ourselves. How noble of us!” Ron said the last part with a drunken sarcasm.
“What about Hermione? She’d want to help…She’d want to know.” Harry put his head into his hands and ran his fingers through his messy hair.
“Do you really want her to be as big of a mess as we are?” Ron sighed and looked out the window as he sat up. “No, it’s best for everyone if Hermione remains as uninvolved as possible.”
Harry watched Hedwig fly around in the night sky.
“Ron, she needs to know. It’s going to kill me lying to her.”
“We don’t even SEE her Harry!” Ron shouted suddenly. Harry shook his head and looked away.
“I just can’t help but feel like were making a mistake by not telling her.”
“Hermione is innocent, and if she can stay that way the better for everyone.”
Miles away Hermione Granger toiled away at the books in her room. Mostly books about mental well being. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun. A quill and a muggle notebook sat on her lap as she read. Every sentence or two she scribbled a few words. She had to figure this out. Her life was now dependant on mastering this.
In the magical world becoming two people can be very helpful as long as it is done wisely. However, it happens by accident far more than it does on purpose. It’s most common in people who find out something life altering in the middle of their teen years. However, if a person can catch it in time, they can use the identity crisis as a way to create a split-identity (see page 30 for more).
Hermione flipped a few pages and started scribbling furiously. The sword had been right. Of course it had. Her brain had created two personalities. Now she had to figure out what to do with them. Upon looking at the pages she knew exactly what she would do.
When she was done taking notes she looked up at the clock. It told her it was midnight. That was hardly enough time to finish what she wanted to get done and still get enough sleep for her date tomorrow.
“Why don’t you stand him up?”
“I want to go.” Hermione said organizing the books into three piles.
“You don’t need me to know that was a lie.” Hermione shot a glare up to sword floating above her bed. Then she went back to her notebook and flipped to a new page. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the order of the room from earlier that day. The harder she thought the more she couldn’t think of it.
“Good luck, you wont remember the room.”
“And why not?” Hermione growled throwing her notebook down and grabbing another book randomly.
“It’s part of the puzzle.” Hermione sighed and climbed in to her bed.
“Like I’m ever going to open the door again!” She looked at the cover off her book without reading it and flipped to the first page. For the first the few pages she was even pay attention. An hour past and she was a third of the way through the book and she had not registered a word.
The most important thing, however, is to be better than your father. If your father joins a group then you lead it before you die. If your father marries a beautiful women, then you marry one that is smart. Whatever you do before you die you must surpass your father in every way you can. Thus is the way of a Malfoy.
Hermione blinked. Had she read that right?
After surpassing him in the only way you can as a Malfoy you can not rub it in his face or flaunt it wither unknowingly or not. The father should know but not be reminded every again. As a Malfoy you must always have pose and confidence. No one should ever make you weak. Nothing should make you blush and nothing should fluster you. If it does the best thing you can do is to make sure no one discovers it. As long as no one finds out you can keep your pride intact. However, if someone does find out then you must remove what ever it was that made you weak. If it was your wife and in the presents of others than you must openly scold her and she must take it without shame. These are the ways of a Malfoy.
Hermione started at the book with sudden new interest. She flipped to the table of contents. Seeing what she wanted she flipped to pages she’d already read.
As the first born son you can not choice you wife. She will be chosen for you by your mother. You can not let her know you know she will be your wife until she confronts you about it. After that, wither you like her or not you must do everything in your power to make her fall in love you and attempt to return that love. This is in hopes to make it more bearable for the both of you. Many Malfoy’s have fallen in love because they’ve done just this.
Hermione stared at the page with a small smile spreading across her face.
“I think I’ll go tomorrow.” She said and closed the book. The lights went out and Hermione feel asleep.
So the second half of this chapter, from Harry's nightmare on was actually written after the chapter coming up after this because I thought it helped the transition of the story...but still left a few secrets. Sorry fo the mini-cliff.
Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing...next chapter hopefully coming as soon as this one is up.
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