Chapter 8- Dumbledore’s Advice
Draco and Hermione walked along the hallways of Hogwarts, thankful that they did not bump into the students who had stayed behind for Christmas. They were all probably enjoying a good Christmas breakfast in the Great Hall, totally oblivious to Draco and Hermione’s plight.
“Are you absolutely sure Dumbledore will be able to do anything about this?” Draco asked anxiously, looking down at the Love-Knot.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione corrected in a Professor McGonagall sort of voice. She hated Draco’s disrespect for the Headmaster. Heck, she hated Draco. Period. And right now, she was stuck with him. Literally. “I'm sure he will be able to come up with something.”
They walked for quite a while before reaching the extremely ugly stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. It was a good thing that the Heads were given the privilege of knowing the Headmaster’s password. Otherwise, time would be wasting playing guessing games.
“Peppermint Humbugs!” Hermione said. The gargoyle sprang to life, hopped aside and the wall behind it spilt into two, revealing a stone flight of stairs. They stepped onto the escalator-like staircase, which slowly started to move them upwards.
At last, they reached a gleaming oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Draco and Hermione reached for the knocker at the same time. Their hands brushed lightly and they hastily pulled away, as though that second of contact had caused a small shot of electricity jolt up their arms.
Draco used his robe to wipe the spot where their hands had met and Hermione cut him a dirty look. Now the both of them stood rooted on the spot, waiting for the other to knock. But none of them touched the knocker again, thinking that the other would take the initiative.
“Oh for Heaven’s sake…” Hermione said with a sigh, letting her voice trail off as she finally moved forward to knock on the Headmaster’s door.
“Come in!” Dumbledore said in a singsong voice from inside.
Opening the oak door, the two carefully stepped inside Dumbledore’s office. Dumbledore was seated in front of them in magnificent mauve robes that bore huge silver stars. A matching hat was perched on his head, its pointed tip slightly drooping to one side.
“Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger,” he said, eyeing the pair with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, “how unusual for the both of you to visit me, together.” His eyes settled on the Love-Knot. “Ah, I can see why you're here together. It wasn’t a matter of choice, was it? Have a seat, please.”
With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore conjured two squishy armchairs. “Would you like some tea? Biscuits perhaps?”
Hermione shook her head politely “No, thank you, sir,” she said as she and Draco took a seat. She could have sworn she had caught Draco rolling his eyes at the Headmaster.
“Well then, don’t mind if I do!” Dumbledore said happily, and tapping his wand once again, a large plate of cookies and a cup of tea appeared in front of him. He took one cookie off the plate and dipped it into the tea. Munching on it, he gazed at the two teenagers seated before him. “Tell me, what can do for you?”
“Professor,” Hermione began, “we were wondering if there was any way you could help us get rid of this Love-Knot?”
“Well, Miss Granger, I'm sure that you're well aware of the fact that the Love-Knot cannot be removed until it has executed its purpose,” Professor Dumbledore said with a kind smile. “And, knowing you as I think I do, you must have already figured out its purpose, right, Miss Granger?”
The color in Hermione’s cheeks rose a little. “Yes, we have,” she said, clearing her throat. “It’s purpose is to agree us to marriage.”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly, an amused look crossing his bearded face. “And who, might I ask, sent this Love-Knot to you with this purpose?”
Hermione glanced over at Draco, who chose to remain quiet with a frown on his face. “Well,” she said, “it was actually an anonymous Christmas present for the both of us, but Malfoy and I figured that it might have been from his father.”
Dumbledore appeared even more amused. “From Lucius Malfoy?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said quietly. “And may I ask why would Lucious Malfoy want you two getting married?”
Hermione stared at the old Headmaster. His blue eyes sparkled when they rested on her and something told Hermione that he knew exactly why Lucius Malfoy wanted them to get married, but chose to hear her story nonetheless. She quickly summarized everything that happened on the day the Malfoys came to her house with the wedding proposal. “And so that’s why we think that Lucius Malfoy isn’t giving up on he whole idea of getting us married, thus sending us the Love-Knot,” she finished.
Draco snorted softly. If only Hermione knew how intent his father was on getting them married. She had barely skimmed the surface. She thinks that the only thing my father has sent so far is this Love-Knot. She’ll be in for quite a surprise if she ever finds out about the Love Potion, Love charms and Love spells my darling father sent as well, Draco thought inwardly.
Dumbledore placed his half-eaten cookie back onto the plate and put his long fingers together, resting his elbows on his desk. He looked at the two students in front of him, his eyes shining behind his half-moon glasses. “Mr. Malfoy, what is your view on this?”
“I just want this damn thing off my hand,” Draco growled in response. “I don’t want to be stuck with her the whole day.”
“Hey!” Hermione snapped indignantly. “It’s not like I fancy being stuck with you either!”
“I'm afraid from the looks of it, Mr. Malfoy, the two of you are going to be stuck with each other for a much longer time than just a day,” Dumbledore said somewhat amusedly.
“But Professor, we came here in hope that you would be able to do something about it,” Hermione said, eyeing Dumbledore pleadingly.
“As simple as the Love-Knot may seem, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said knowledgably, “it is in truth made with very powerful magic.”
“Does that mean that you won’t be able to do anything about it, Professor?” Hermione asked. A strong feeling of dread was filling the pit of her stomach. She was so confident before that Dumbledore would have been able to help her.
“I'm sorry, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said with a small smile, “but there is really nothing I can do. The Love-Knot will come off when it needs to.”
Draco, who had been relatively quiet throughout the whole conversation, stared at the Headmaster as though he had just sprouted bunny ears. “What do you mean that it’ll come off when it needs to?!” he hollered, making Hermione jump in her seat. “I need it to come off now!”
“That’s impossible, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said calmly.
“It can’t be impossible!” Draco continued his shouting frenzy. “Granger said that you're one of the most powerful wizards in the world so you should be able to do something about it!”
“Why thank you, Miss Granger, that was a very nice thing to say,” Dumbledore grinned at Hermione. “However, Mr. Malfoy, regardless of how much power I may possess, I'm still powerless to do anything about the Love-Knot.”
Draco gaped at Dumbledore with a look that read, ‘This cannot be happening to me.’ “You're joking, right?” he asked, not daring to hear the answer.
“I wouldn't joke about something like that, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore replied evenly.
Hermione remained fixed in her chair, still trying to digest the fact that she was going to be stuck with Malfoy. And not just for a day or two. Not even for a week. But for God-knows how long!
Draco, on the other hand, pushed the chair he was sitting on with such force that it toppled backwards. “I've got to get out of here,” he mumbled, staggering towards the door, not noticing the Love-Knot stretch as he walked. However, Draco did not make it to the door. Halfway toward it, he was pulled back hard by an invisible force and he landed with a loud thud on the floor beside Hermione, who stared down at him with a perplexed look on her face.
Groaning in pain, Draco slowly got up, massaging his aching tailbone. At first, he looked up at Dumbledore, thinking it had been him. But then he realized that the Headmaster did not have his wand in his hand.
“Mr. Malfoy, I think you need to know a few things about the Love-Knot,” Dumbledore said benignly. He picked up his wand and made Draco’s chair stand so that he, Draco, would be able to sit on it again. “Firstly, it only allows a maximum distance of three and a half feet between the two people it connects, which in this case is the two of you.”
Draco sat on the armchair and winced, both from pain as well as Dumbledore's words.
“Three and a half feet?!” Hermione echoed. “But Professor, how…we…I…” She took a deep breath to calm herself down so that she would be able to form proper sentences. “But Professor, there must be a way for us to get away from each other. Like when we need to go to the bathroom, or go to sleep, or…or…” Her voice trailed off.
Dumbledore shook his head slowly. “Not that I know of,” he told her honestly.
“How are we going to eat?” Draco asked, growing more and more fretful by the minute. “I'm a Slytherin and she’s in Gryffindor, we can’t sit at the same table.”
“Actually, you can sit on the same table,” Dumbledore said clearly, “but you just choose not to.”
Draco glowered at the elderly wizard. There was no way in hell he was going to sit at the Gryffindor table, neither would he tolerate Hermione sitting with the Slytherins.
“What about our classes, sir?” Hermione went on. “Malfoy and I don’t have similar timetables. We don’t have many classes together, aside from Care Of Magical Creatures, Potions and Arithmancy.”
“Yes, yes, I was thinking about that too, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore agreed, looking pensive. “It would be too tedious to re-arrange timetables for all the seventh years so late in the school year.” He paused to consider something then looked at the two with a twinkle in his eyes. “I suppose that you could take turns attending each others’ lesson.”
“What do you mean?” Draco asked, not liking the sound of that at all.
“Well, Mr. Malfoy, I mean to say that, for example, when Slytherin has Herbology with Ravenclaw, Miss Granger can, or rather, has to accompany you to that lesson, so she can skip her own Herbology lesson when Gryffindor have it with Hufflepuff later that day or week, since I'm certain Professor Sprout would be teaching the same lesson to all seventh years students,” Dumbledore explained slowly.
“However, when, for instance, Gryffindor is having Charms with Ravenclaw, you’ll have to accompany Miss Granger in turn, consequently skipping your own Charms lessons when Slytherin has it with Hufflepuff. You can take turns to attend each other’s classes and as a result, you won’t miss any lesson and maybe even have a free period or two in a day.” He smiled at the two pupils has though it was the simplest solution in the world. “I’ll let the other teachers know about your situation immediately, so that they know what to expect.”
Draco and Hermione stared disbelievingly at Dumbledore. Draco was not at all sure that he understood what the Headmaster had said, but he was in no doubt that Dumbledore was right, somehow.
“But sir, what about other things?” Hermione pressed on. “Like where are we going to sit in the Great Hall?”
“Miss Granger, I'm afraid you’ll have to take turns for that too.”
“No way!” Draco exclaimed, clearly horrified. “I'm not going to sit with the Gryffindors.”
“And I'm not sitting with the Slytherins either!” Hermione wore a similar look of horror on her own face.
Dumbledore did not seem to realize the looks on the two students’ faces “There’s no other way, unless you would rather not eat at all…”
Hermione heaved a small sigh and bit her bottom lip. “But”but””
Dumbledore cut Hermione off. “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, this isn’t going to be easy, I know. But I'm sure the both of you will get on with your lives just fine despite being bound together,” he assured gently. “I trust that you will be able to handle this. Besides, it might well be a good way for the Heads of Hogwarts to cooperate a little.”
Draco scowled while Hermione stifled a cry of despair.
“Don’t worry too much,” Dumbledore said. “Though the both of you may feel that you have no privacy with the Love-Knot on, just remember that it does allow you a maximum distance of three and a half feet between each other.”
“That sounds very comforting,” Draco whispered sarcastically under his breath, but Dumbledore caught every word.
The Headmaster gave them a reassuring smile. “Sometimes, you just have to have faith in yourselves and each other,” he said wisely, though Draco, for the life of him, could not figure out what that had to do with anything. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I've got cookies to finish.”