Most ardently by Swift Night Chapter 3.
Unsurprisingly, Missus Weasley and Jinny prattled back and
forth the entire ride home from the ball, preventing anyone else
from speaking a single syllable while they gossiped about the
evening. However, Hermione found it quite
easy to tune them out, consumed by her thoughts centring around
their new acquaintances, particularly the vile Mr.
Malfoy. She was much relieved when the
lights of the borough were finally visible outside the
carriage window. Luna caught her eye as they
entered the house, and the 2 shared a silent exchange while
the rest of the family sat down in the parlour for a cup of tea.
Both witches excused themselves to retire early, much to Missus
Weasley's chagrin, as Hermione suspected, she had planned to
interrogate them now that Jinny seemed to have quieted for the
night. Hermione and Luna's bed chamber
was on the third floor of the borough, just below the attic,
and it afforded the ladies a reprieve from the chaos of the
rest of the house. Still, she did not take any
chances, casting a privacy charm to keep anyone from overhearing.
The Weasleys were not even aware Hermione knew such a spell, as
it had never been part of her education, having accidentally
stumbled upon it one day, scribbled in the margins of her
second hand potions manual that she suspected once belonged to a
skilled potioneer. She felt she knew the wizard
quite well through his notations in the margins, and even found
his corrections to the text helped improve her potions
drastically over the years. It was quite sad that he never
thought to sign it with his formal name.
The girls rushed to get ready for bed, taking off their gowns
and letting down their hair before eagerly crawling into bed
to complete their own ritual of discussing the night's events.
Well. Hermione prodded.
Mr. Zabini seemed quite enthralled by you.
Oh, Hermione, I'm not sure what to say.
The witch blushed. I found Mr. Sabini to be quite
charming, but who knows if anything could come of it.
He could have just been being polite.
And he danced with several others.
Don't be daft, Luna. She threw a pillow at her
sister's head. He liked you.
I know it to be true. He danced with you half the
night and stared at you for the rest of it.
And I will not allow you to change my mind.
The gentleman was completely taken by you.
Well, what about you? The witch asked, changing the
subject. Me.
Yes. I caught Mr. Malfoy watching you
quite often, and you were the only witch he spoke to
throughout the night. I thought you might have been
flirting with him when you brought up dancing.
I most certainly was not. Hermione denied, offended by the
idea. I loathe him, Luna Lavender, and
I overheard him speaking with Mr. Sabini where he brought up
my parentage, claimed it was a detriment to my eligibility, and
he used that awful word I can't repeat.
I don't believe it. She replied, shaking her head as
her smile faltered. I wish it were not true.
Hermione sighed. My comment about dancing was a
hint to him that I had overheard.
I would have been more direct, but I did not want to insult Mr.
Sabini. But you said Mr. Malfoy
expressed those horrible views to him.
Hermione could see her affection for Mr. Sabini had dimmed and
rushed to the wizard's defence. He did, and Mr. Sabini scolded
him for it. Hermione insisted.
I was grateful and it only increased my opinion of him.
He is one of the most amiable Wizards I have become acquainted
with and I hope we will see more of him, if only we could.
Without seeing Mr. Malfoy, I find my opinion of him may never
recover over such an insult to someone as remarkable and dear
to me as you. With any luck, I shall never
have to see him again. Hermione said.
She knew it would be unlikely, seeing how taken Mr. Sabini had
been with Luna. They would likely find
themselves visiting Featherfield Hall in the not so distant
future. Hermione could only hope that
Mister Malfoy had such a horrible time tonight that he
would abandoned the country to return to London or his
miserable half of Wiltshire. Before the invitation arrived.
The girls returned to more joyful discussions about the
handsome Mr. Zabini until their eyes grew heavy from the late
hour. Finally falling asleep, everyone
rose later than usual the following morning before heading
down to eat. Mr. Weasley gave them a grateful
look when Hermione and Luna entered, distracting Missus
Weasley from her recounting of last night's events as if he had
not been present with her when they first occurred.
My dear, if Mr. Sabini was interested in any of the girls
then that would surprise me indeed.
Mr. Weasley remarked. He may be a pleasant wizard, but
I still am not sure he could be worthy of any of my daughters.
Mr. Weasley, His wife chirped. You know as well as I the
precarious position the girls would be in if anything happened
to you. None of them can inherit and
that blasted nephew of yours will throw us out before your
body is cold. We need to ensure we secure our
girls futures while we still can.
At this, their mother's focus turned to them and the girls
were subjected to her overdue interrogations about the
gentleman they had interacted with throughout the ball.
Missus Weasley's excitement could not be contained when it
came to Mr. Zabini, but she turned rather sour when the
topic shifted to his companions. Other than seeming a bit aloof,
Miss Pansy Parkinson could be forgiven as she had committed no
true crime against them during their brief interaction.
Mr. Malfoy was an entirely different story.
When Hermione disclosed her thoughts on the wizard and his
lack of manners, the whole family agreed that he seemed to
be the worst sort of gentleman. Surprisingly, Mr. Weasley
revealed he had once known Mr. Malfoy's father before he passed
away a few years ago. The gentleman had served on the
Wisengebut together and were often at odds when it came to
policy proposals. It was concluded from their
limited interaction last night that the younger Mr. Malfoy had
inherited his father's worst tendencies and thus Mr.
Weasley's disapproval. The conversation was interrupted
when Jinny brought up the auras soon to be visiting the village.
Auras. Did they say why they were
coming? Luna interrupted.
Their little village wasn't often one needing aura
protection. Apparently there's been a troll
spotted in the hills nearby, so they'll be using the village as
a base in hopes of catching it. Jinny elaborated.
It sounds like there'll be a whole squadron assigned.
Oh, I hope they're stationed long enough for us to be
properly acquainted. Hermione caught herself rolling
her eyes at her sister. Jinny Weasley was the most
ostentatious flirt she had ever encountered, and she hoped the
poor girl did not embarrass herself when the auras arrived.
A tapping on the window ended the topic as everyone looked up
in confusion. The paper had already been
delivered and they were not expecting any further
correspondence. Priscilla rose to fetch it from
the unfamiliar owl at the window.
It is addressed to Luna. The witch said, passing the
envelope over. I don't recognise the
handwriting. Tentatively, Luna broke the
green wax seal and skimmed the contents.
It is from Miss Parkinson, she gasped out, causing Missus
Weasley to begin fervently fanning herself despite the
morning chill. She has invited me to dine with
her this evening. My goodness, that is the most
splendid news. Missus Weasley squawked.
She says the gentleman would be dining out.
Oh, can I borrow the carriage, Mother?
Luna passed Hermione the letter and she skimmed it quickly.
Miss Luna Lovegood, I hope you are well.
After the excitement of yesterday's festivities, I would
like to invite you to join me for dinner this evening so that
we may become better acquainted. I shall be all on my own as the
gentleman will be dining out and I would appreciate the company.
Please use my owl, Artemis to deliver your reply.
Sincerely, Miss Pansy Parkinson, I did not account for the
wizard's dining out. That simply won't do.
Their mother griped. Mother, the carriage for Luna.
Hermione reminded, not wanting her sister's request to go
unanswered. Certainly not.
Missus Weasley shook her head. She'll go on broomstick.
Broomstick. The witches all said in unison
just as an ominous roll of Thunder reached them.
Missus Weasley had a mysterious twinkle in her eye as she sent
the girls off to get ready for the day, not hearing any protest
about her denial for the carriage or the tumultuous
weather soon to arrive. By the time the storm rolled in,
Hermione was waiting anxiously staring out of the window in the
sitting room, hoping any moment to catch sight of an owl
cresting the hill to deliver news that Luna had arrived
safely at Featherfield. She'll have to stay the night,
just as I predicted. Her mother boasted as she worked
on her knitting. I was unaware that you'd taken
up Divination. Mr. Weasley said, not looking up
from his book. I sure hope not.
Hermione grumbled. Divination was an entirely
imprecise branch of magic that Hermione found contained far too
much guess work for her liking. Her first and only true
interaction with it had been with a travelling circus passing
through the village and a seer named Sibyl Trelawney inviting
all the young girls to take lessons with her about
predicting the future. After a single hour together,
the older witch insulted Hermione, claiming she had very
little receptivity to the resonances of the future, and
Hermione decided then and there that the whole subject wasn't
worth her time. Oh, Hermione dear, you fret far
too much. Perhaps if you're so concerned,
you should check the family clock in the kitchen.
Her mother sighed. The clock, Hermione suddenly
remembered, finally leaving her place at the window to seek out
the magical wonder. The Weasley family clock was
unlike any other she had ever encountered.
In the place of numbers on the clock face, it instead held a
collection of magical locations. There was home, school,
travelling, prison, lost, and mortal peril.
It also contained more than two or three standard clock hands,
opting for a spoon to symbolise each one of them.
As Hermione walked in to examine it, she saw each of their spoons
pointing at home while Luna's spoon showed her as travelling.
She let out a shaky breath that her sister was not listed on the
Mortal Peril wedge and returned to the window to wait.
The rain grew heavier as the evening darkness rolled in, and
Hermione found herself agitated by the lack of news regarding
Luna, checking the clock two more times just to be sure.
Just as Missus Weasley ordered her to abandon her post at the
window and join everyone for dinner, she spotted an owl
braving the storm as it flew to the borough.
She nearly ripped it off the poor creature's leg in a rush to
read it, relieved to see her name scrawled in Luna's familiar
handwriting. My darling sister, I am sad to
say that my journey to Featherfield was not as pleasant
as I expected. The storm worsened right as I
was halfway to my destination, and I pushed on despite my
better judgement. Just after flying over the
Featherfield property line, my broom was blown off course into
a Whomping Willow. The tree was not at all pleased
by me crossing its path and it made its feelings about my
unwelcome intrusion known. Mr. Zubini found me shortly
after and called for the healer Smithwick to examine me.
I am perfectly fine aside from a few scratches and the bones in
my left arm needing to be regrown.
As such, I will not be able to return home to you or our family
until I am recovered. Please do not fret over me
Hermione, as I know you are prone to do.
If however, you cannot keep away, Mr. Sabini would like to
invite you to join me at Featherfield tomorrow for the
duration of my recovery. All my love, Luna.
What is it Hermione? Her father asked after seeing
her expression. Hermione responded by reading
the letter aloud to the family. Oh, this is wonderful news.
Missus Weasley celebrated, earning her a glare from her
husband and Hermione. My dear, how can you say such a
thing? Our daughter is injured and you
call it wonderful? Mr. Weasley scolded his wife
with more severity than usual. Oh, Arthur, she'll be all right.
She said so in a letter. The witch ignored his tone,
buttering her roll with a smile. Mr. Zabeeni called for
Smithwick, and he has healed far worse than some broken bones.
Be that as it may, I am not fond of her being alone on the other
side of the village with a family we barely know.
I could go. Hermione Clutton, desperate for
the approval to join her sister. Please, Father, the storm will
pass tonight and I could be gone in the morning.
Yes, I think you should. The wizard agreed.
And when she is recovered, the carriage will fetch you both and
bring you home. Thank you.
Hermione said, a weight lifted in her chest, knowing she would
soon be able to reunite with Luna.
I'll leave at first light.