Not sure how Disney has gone from “the standard of animation in the West; emphasizing visual storytelling through character acting and expression in the art” to “you know what fuck what we said, fuck the whole past 100 years in animation; fuck portraying cartoon art as a beautiful and serious art form; we gotta show the world we’re R E A L filmmakers by making everything live action and hyper-realistic CGI and just...forget about what makes it more effective for us to tell a story.”
The Pretense - chapter 50 (FFN)
Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. DRAMIONE. NOW COMPLETE.
A/N: I own none of the characters, being neither JK Rowling nor @colubrina. This is just a chance for me to play in the sandbox they have created.This is a birthday/get well soon present for the lovely @colubrina, whose work has been such a joy and inspiration to me.
***
6: The Pretense
“So can I safely assume Ron is alive and you’re friends here?” Hermione asks dryly. “Or are you going to shock me with some revelation like both of you being Death Eaters here?”
Other-Hermione laughs. “Yes he’s alive, yes we’re friends, no we’re not Death Eaters, happy?”
She eyes the witch cautiously. “What’s the catch?”
Her smile disappears. “Harry killed Voldemort. The Death Eaters stayed in power anyway.”
Hermione stares. It takes a moment for her to find her voice. “You mean - without him -”
“People didn’t just stop believing in blood purity because Voldemort died,” Other-Hermione says wearily. “The Death Eaters already had control of the Ministry. Yaxley, being both sane and ambitious, took his chance and took over, gave them a socially acceptable facelift. He was a much better strategist. We did guerrilla attacks, but he was winning.”
“Then?”
“We were discovered,” she says softly as the world shifts around them into a dingy safehouse, one the Order used in her world. “Draco sent us portkeys. Said he was in love with me, and if I joined him, he’d ensure the others got to the continent safely.”
Hermione watches with horror as the Order agrees to let her go, to spy, to whore, in exchange for their own safety. “They couldn’t - not possibly -”
“Harry was willing to die, so his expectation isn’t totally unreasonable,” she says with a carefully level voice as she watches her past self pick up the diamond bracelet and wink into Malfoy Manor.
“And the others?”
An old bitterness crosses her face. “Considered me sufficiently disposable.”
They fall silent at that, watching. Malfoy showing her a suite and admitting he wasn’t in love, that the Order had been discovered. A carefully polite breakfast. Tremors from repeated crucio’s. Breakfast with Narcissa, who’s clever as the devil and twice as pretty in any world, but who’s somehow even more of a force to be reckoned with here, who can pull off complicated magic like portkeys without a bead of perspiration on that lovely forehead. A walk in the gardens and a show for the Carrows.
She can’t help but feel sorry for this Draco, more so than any of the others. His side won, he’s a Death Eater, and yet somehow he’s so utterly broken, trying to do the right thing despite everything.
“That line was a bit of genius,” Hermione says as she watches the girl writing down the prophecy and adding an extra line.
Spy-Hermione smiles. “I’m still very proud of it.”
Dinner with the Malfoys. Meeting Yaxley and learning the Death Eaters thought she was a defector. Servants’ passageways and stolen documents. Draco coming to her, shaking and miserable, after his seventh experience with the cruciatus. A shared night, and a shared kiss. A party that’s almost painful, prejudice and microaggressions and not-so-subtle aggressions. Dueling Amycus Carrow at Dolohov’s behest - the man is the same sleek, power-hungry creature in every world. Sectumsempra’ing a child - Rodolphus Lestrange’s so-called child, but still a child - to keep up her facade.
She feels Spy-Hermione’s eyes flick to her and keeps her face carefully neutral. After everything she’s seen, this is nothing.
Meeting Percy in Diagon while on her way to visit Archibald Lestrange. Dolohov interrupting dinner because Percy had bombed the Prophet. Betraying him, first by revealing his location, then at the trial, because she had to keep up her facade. Keep sending the Order information. Keep spying.
She chances a glance at the other witch. Her eyes are sheened with tears.
Narcissa sending them to an art exhibition that’s a thinly veiled part of the underground rebellion. More social events where she tries to play the role of defector. Getting Lestrange to break Percy out of prison.
Finding out from Molly that Ron had gotten Gabrielle Delacour pregnant and was going to marry her. Getting drunk and kissing Draco to forget. Narcissa announcing they were going to get married. Visiting Mrs Figg, painter of subversive art, and Percy. Finding out that Moody had thrown Percy to the wolves to secure her cover.
“Voldemort killed him in my world,” Hermione says in the awkward silence that ensues. It’s the only thing she can think to say.
Spy-Hermione snorts. “That’s probably for the best.”
Marrying Draco. Yaxley giving her Alecto Carrow’s life as a wedding present. Burning the woman to a pile of ash and a phoenix feather. Visiting Mrs Figg’s gallery again. Yaxley coming in to reprimand them for visiting subversive art galleries, Yaxley ordering Draco to crucio her.
She looks away at the sight of her other self on the floor, breath catching in her throat. She remembers Bellatrix. There’s no air. She’s suffocating, choking on nothing.
“Breathe,” she hears a fierce voice, dim and far away, as her hand is pressed to someone’s chest. “You’re safe. Breathe.” Breathe in. Breathe out.
Slowly, slowly, she comes back to herself. Spy-Hermione’s eyes are dark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise the effect it’d have on you.”
“Please tell me this has a happy ending,” she says desperately, unsure how much more of this she can take.
Time speeds up. Killing Amycus Carrow and Narcissa helping them hide the body. Witches in a restaurant closing in on her for betraying Harry. Dolohov finding out she was in touch with the Order and forcing her to grant him immunity in exchange for him not revealing her true loyalty.
Her eyes flicker towards Spy-Hermione. The other witch has her shoulders braced, as if expecting judgement, and she decides not to say anything.
Going to an art show and buying the ugly cubist portrait of Snape that she first saw when she came to this world. The agitators being cruel and snide to her even as an anti-Yaxley mob raged outside. Harry bursting in, looking for her, defending her. Finding out Molly had added a tracking charm to the bracelet during the instant she weighed it in her hands, a thread to bring her back. Reuniting with Ron, forgiving but not forgetting.
Marching on the Ministry with Harry and Ron and Draco and the Lestranges, with Dolohov. Narcissa placing a curse on Dolohov so he could never speak ill of the Malfoys. People underestimated housewives and socialites alike.
Aurors firing on the marchers, killing Archibald then Rodolphus Lestrange. Fleeing to a safehouse to regroup and reconsider.
Percy becoming the face of the resistance. The Aurors turning on Yaxley. Him finding out that she’d forged the last line of the prophecy, and being unduly shocked about it - really, did he never think to doubt it? Yaxley trying to escape, fighting him with all they had until Draco avada’d him as he was about to apparate away. Percy becoming Minister, Harry moving back to Britain, and finally, the peace they’d fought so hard to earn.
The world dissolves, and she finds herself back in the sitting room at the start. “You were lonely in this world, weren’t you?” she asks quietly.
Spy-Hermione pretends nonchalance. “What do you mean?”
“No Harry. No Ron. No Ginny or Luna. None of those Slytherins - Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne - I’ve seen in other worlds. Just you and the Malfoys. Surrounded by Death Eaters. With people who’d spit on you for either being a muggleborn or for leaving Harry.”
The other witch looks away. “Well. I survived. Narcissa wasn’t so bad. And I had Percy, somewhat.” She smiles. “But what we wanted to tell you - why we showed you this world - things aren’t always black and white.”
“A lot of the Hermiones have been making black white and white black, so excuse me if I take it with a pinch of salt,” Hermione snarks as the mist starts thickening.
“Maybe the Riddle-us took it a bit far,” the witch concedes. “But here, we’re just like you, our friends are just like yours. And we still had to do all of that. Being good doesn’t mean you get no blood on your hands.”
***
She’s starting to figure out what dark-Hermiones look like, and this new witch is definitely dark. Dressed in a sleek black column, braids circling her head, emeralds around her finger and a silver snake winding up her wrist. And something the others didn’t have in any way, shape or form. A silver crown resting on her head.
“Blood on your hands while trying to make the world a better place,” this dark-Hermione says softly, rising from her seat in a ratty old flat. “I know all about that.”
***
Thank you to the amazing @sulisaints for pre-reading! Crossposted on AO3.
Hermione x Draco Malfoy (some Hermione x Ron Weasley)
Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he’s pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes.
The Pretense
Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes.
chapter 42 (FFN)
In which Antonin Dolohov comes to dinner and both blackmail and pears are served.
Much love to @quickhidetherum for beta reading. She has quite a few dramione stories of her own you can find at QuickHideTheDramione.
