“Thank you for coming so early in the morning, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said as he took a seat behind his desk with a heavy, tired sigh.

Hermione felt exhausted having been unable to sleep the night before. Today was the day she was set to go to the Manor with Draco, Theo, and Pansy – whose father it seemed had also been summoned. But last night she thought she could hear worried whispers and the clambering of feet up and down the stairs keeping her awake. When she finally woke from a few hours rest, it was to find a small scroll sitting on her bedside table instructing her to go to Dumbledore’s office immediately.

When she’d first arrived at the office and given the password – Fizzing Whizzbees – she could easily hear the irate screeches of Dolores Umbridge before she swept from the office in a flurry of sickly perfume and pink robes.

“You’re welcome, Professor. Is something the matter?” Hermione replied, scanning the tired looking headmaster as he steepled his fingertips together and looked at her seriously.

Behind him, through the tall windows, she could see a light snowfall was beginning, swirling and catching on the panes of glass. His various magical items gave off the occasional whirring noises on a nearby table and not far off sat Fawkes, fresh from a burning day snuggling deep into his pile of ashes.

“Arthur Weasley was attacked last night,” he said gravely.

She gasped, fingertips covering her mouth as tears sprung into her eyes.

“Oh no! What happened? Is he going to be okay?”

Dumbledore looked to a portrait behind her for a moment before settling his blue eyes back on her.

“He is stable in St. Mungos at the moment. I am hopeful he will make a full recovery.”

She relaxed slightly in her chair, breathing a sigh.

“That’s good to hear. Poor Mrs. Weasley and the rest of them. Do you know what happened?”

Dumbledore’s usually twinkling blue eyes narrowed as he gazed at her.

“He was attacked by a snake, Miss Granger, in the Department of Mysteries.”

She blinked at him a few times, her shelves rattling dangerously and darkness falling inside her mental library. Her books of fears and secrets pushed deeper into the shelves amidst the rumbling.

“A snake ?” she replied confusedly. She pushed her memories of a particular snake deep within her mind. “How did he get attacked by a snake in the Ministry?”

“I believe He Who Must Not Be Named may have sent the snake there as a lookout.”

Her brows pulled together. A mission that involved the snake?

“That’s… horrible, sir. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Indeed, Miss Granger.” He surveyed her for another moment and she felt her shelves rattle more, books beginning to fall off and land open on the ground.

She blinked again, realizing Dumbledore was using legilimency on her.

“Sir? Is there something you need?” she asked respectfully.

A look of surprise crossed her Headmaster’s face at her words. He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair and removing his half-moon glasses to wipe at his eyes. As he did so, the shelves stilled and daylight spilled across the library.

“I am aware you usually spend the Christmas holidays with your parents, Miss Granger, but I wanted to extend the offer to send you immediately to Grimmauld Place to be with the Weasleys.”

She swallowed, thinking of all the reasons why taking Dumbledore up on his offer would be tempting, and took a deep breath before replying in a voice that didn’t quite sound like her.

“Thank you, sir, but I couldn’t – not without seeing my parents first at least. Christmas is our favorite holiday to spend together.”

Dumbledore hummed his understanding, his eyes scanning her face before moving down to her wrist.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet you have there, Miss Granger.”

She looked down at the concealed piece of jewelry, then back up at him, her eyebrows raising.

“Sir?”

Though Dumbledore smiled, she could see that it didn’t reach his eyes. A thin layer of tension descended upon the office as he reached one pale finger and tapped it once against her wrist, canceling the notice-me-not charm.

“I can help you, Miss Granger,” he said softly.

Dread pooled thick inside Hermione’s chest at his words. She saw compassion, understanding, and something akin to fear on the old man’s face and wondered what he thought he saw. A scared muggleborn witch used as a pawn in a war bigger than herself?

Yes, she thought wryly, that was probably what he saw. He could not imagine that Hermione and Draco truly loved one another, or that the choices that he seemed to have some inkling of her making had been her choice – not Draco or Lucius’.

Perhaps it was better to allow him to believe that she was the weak, foolish girl he projected upon her now.

“I don’t understand, sir…” she said quietly, allowing her voice to drift. “Help me, how?”

Dumbledore leaned forward, placing a fingertip against one of the delicate metal leaves.

“This is a courtship bracelet, is it not?”

She allowed her eyes to grow wide and blinked a few times. Perhaps he thought she didn’t understand what the bracelet meant and was in the process of being trapped by the Malfoys or another pureblood family.

The shelves of her library rattled again as Dumbledore tried to pull more books off the shelves. Though she didn’t make her mental self known inside her mind, she tracked him as he went, letting him find memories of her parents, of the order, of Harry and the Weasleys. But nowhere did he find the Malfoys.

“I don’t believe so sir…” she replied again in that confused and slightly airy voice. “It was a gift from my father for my fifteenth birthday.”

She allowed Dumbledore to find a memory of her opening her large stack of presents on her fifteenth birthday. Though he couldn’t see the gifts, the memory was one fueled by happiness and surprise. It didn’t explain why there was a notice-me-not charm cast upon it, but she hoped that perhaps it was showy enough that he’d assumed she’d done it herself so as to not attract attention. She watched the old man’s face lose the majority of its suspicion and tried to push away her relief.

If Dumbledore was going to assume she was just a silly girl, then she would take advantage of that fact.

“My mistake, my dear,” Dumbledore said kindly, this time his smile met his eyes. “Shall I let the Weasleys know you will join them in a week’s time?”

She nodded, assuming if she was being called to the Manor tonight then a week would be plenty.

“Yes sir, thank you. And thank you for telling me what happened to Mr. Weasley.”

Rising to her feet, she gave the headmaster one last smile.

“Happy Christmas, Professor Dumbledore,” she said kindly, turning to go.

“Oh, Miss Granger,” he called as she got to the door and Hermione turned. “Give my regards to Tom when you see him.”