Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling
A Helping Hand
There was yet another note on her nightstand when she woke up. So besides being an evil, prejudiced git, he was persistant. This made it the sixth morning in a row she had found one. Always the same thing, how he could help her, if only she would let him. After all who better to understand someone's mind, than a younger version of him? But she wouldn't, it was too risky to even contemplate trusting him. He was cold-blooded, calculated, and she couldn't forget that he was a murderer. If not by his own hand, but he had stood back and let Myrtle die. And there was no way she could forget, what he had grown to become, Voldemort.
Hermione, I know what you are doing, what all of you are doing. Have you forgotten my offer? I can help you, you know I can. I would really like to help you all. Please think about it.
I know what you are doing, what all of you are doing. Have you forgotten my offer? I can help you, you know I can. I would really like to help you all.
Please think about it.
He didn't sign it, he never did. That made no difference, she knew who it was. And there was no way she would ever accept his help.
She made her way into the kitchen after a nice cold shower that did nothing to calm her jitters over facing him, there was just something about him that made her skin crawl. She wasn't sure if it was with distaste or some other alarming and frankly disturbing way, either way he was a nuisance. A nuisance that was right now laying the charm onto Mrs Weasley, to great effect. Ever since he had arrived he been nothing but kind and generous, everything she knew he wasn't. He had managed to fool some of the others into believing he and Voldemort were polar opposites, but he didn't fool her.
She went over to the table and sat down, glad for the space between them that would very soon be made up with Weasleys, putting a much desired buffer between them. Pouring some tea into a mug, she couldn't locate the sugar-bowl anywhere near her.
"Here you go, Hermione," he said, sitting himself down next to her placing it in front of her, "Seems I was hogging the sugar-bowl all to myself."
"Thanks," she said quietly.
"I think you'll find I'm most useful Hermione, you just have to give me a chance."
Much to her relief he remained unseen for a good while after breakfast, but it didn't last. She had, accompanied by Harry and Ron gone to the study at Grimmauld Place, to continue the research into Horcruxes. They, or herself rather had been going at it steadily for half an hour. And then he came. He couldn't see what they were doing, the books they were reading had been charmed to appear as something rather bland and boring to everyone bar them.
She sat there hoping he would just pick a darn book of the shelf, and leave them be. But that wasn't to be, he sat himself down next to her, and pulled one of their books towards himself.
"Charms in the Fifteenth Century," he said to himself, "Rather boring this edition," and then he managed to somehow change it back to the original, they hadn't allowed him a wand ever, not at all since he came to them. "Now this is more interesting."
"How did you..." Harry stuttered.
"I can do anything I want Potter," he said calmly, "I must say I am most disappointed you hadn't came to me for assistance before this. Did you not think I could help you?"
"I didn't think it was appropriate," he said, "You know what we are doing?"
He nodded, "And that is why I should help you, it makes sense to me."
Harry looked between Ron and Hermione, Ron was nodding his head in agreement, anything to make this easier. Where Hermione was shaking her head at Harry, this was a bad idea, he had to understand that? He would be of no help to them, if anything he would be a detriment. But Harry didn't notice, or take heed of what she was trying to say. "Fine," he said quietly, "It would be a great help if you would assist us."
"Gladly," he smiled, but to Hermione it wasn't friendly or helpful, it was victorious. Like he had just taken the first step of some grand plan.
And she was the only one who could see. She'd just have to keep an eye on him.