Author's Note: I am so, so, so sorry that it took me forever to update this for you lovely readers. But don't think I'm going to ditch this one. I've got a plan with this and I hope it hashes out well. And yeah. Don't worry. I'll continue on! Just three more chappies. Love you guys like crazy!
Someone Like You
Part 2
November 2003 (Present)
The dust flew around her as she picked up the rug from the front of the room. Coughing and flailing her arms around as she tried to wave the particles away, the rusted mark on the front door that read the name "Sirius" made a painful part of heart collapse.
She rose up from her crouching stance in front of the door's entrance and reached up to touch the hard, jagged edges of the plaque as she looked inside the dark, cluttered room. It looked the same as the last time when all three of them were here during the War with Kreacher.
Hermione sometimes wondered if Harry ever went back into Sirius' room, but from the dust that accumulated around the shaggy rug that she now held in her hands, she knew that he probably hadn't.
And if she were to be honest with herself, she'd say that she didn't know how he was feeling about the whole thing. How he was dealing with the fact that all those he could really call family were just…not there. Except for Ginny, Ron, and herself- where she knew that he counted on them more so than he ever did on anyone else. And the prospect of starting a new life outside of the whole seven years that was their life back at Hogwarts was a delightful idea.
But the way the door creaked when she opened it wider to view more of the room and the way the air felt dry and inhospitable, she knew that he hadn't been in here since then- the last time when all three of them were at Grimmauld's Place during the war.
"You're doing him a huge favor, Hermione."
She turned around at the voice and nodded as she looked over the pale features of her red-headed friend. The sun was casting its luminous glow into the dim room and the pale light from the hall was helping slightly to brighten up the place. "He hasn't been in here since then, has he?" Ginny shook her head, red strands of hair moving around her face as she walked in through the door to stand next to Hermione.
"No. He…he really tries to avoid this area."
Hermione sighed as she placed the rug on the edge of the bed's frame. Moving around what looked to be a black and white kite, crumpled and wrinkled on the dirty floor of the room. The sheets on the bed looked worn out and old. The mildew smell radiated off the covers as she got closer and grimaced slightly.
She shook her head and ripped the sheets off the bed quickly, trying to not let her clothes touch it, putting herself at a safe distance away. "Gin, this is just-"
"I know, trust me. This used to be much worse, but…" Hermione continued to rip the rest of the covers and duvet off, making sure to leave the mattress bare. She looked over to her friend as she stood near the door- a small pale, fiery figure in the darkness of this haunted room. "I couldn't stand the smell, you see." Her friend's blue eyes looked up at her and Hermione noticed a slight, sliver of bright light shine against the pale of her pupils.
"Gin," she walked over to her friend and laid the duvet and sheets near the foot of the door. She grabbed her by the shoulders, bringing her in. "I know, it's difficult to deal with-"
She felt Ginny scoff against the side of her hair and pulled back to look down at her, still holding her gently. "Difficult. Right." Ginny nodded and kept her eyes blank as Hermione saw the red, wet tint around them. "Try having to watch the man you love feel and look so tormented, toiling along life with nothing but a shred of hope that you are his last hope."
Hermione froze as she let go of Ginny, bring her hands to her side as she stood there. "I suppose I don't know then."
"Oh, Hermione…"Ginny whispered softly, bring her friends clenched fist in her hands. "I'm sorry. Goodness. I can really be so tactless sometimes."
"It's fine, really." Hermione shook her head and rubbed her brow as Ginny still held on delicately to her clenched fist, red and burning as she dug her nails deeper into her palm.
"I see it in you. The pain."
Hermione rushed out a heated breath and closed her eyes, laughing without much humour to the sound. "Of course there's pain, Ginny."
"I'm talking about this pain, Hermione." She grabbed Hermione's other hand as she skidded it across and on top of the witch's forehead. She then placed the other hand that held her fist over Hermione's heart. "You know what I'm talking about."
She swallowed down a dry feeling in her throat and breathed heavily as she looked over her friend, "I…shouldn't have to feel this way though."
Ginny shrugged up her shoulders and let go of her hands, "It's not something you can choose to reject. You love him and you don't like seeing him so empty and alone. That's why you haven't done anything rash and irrational since the break up. You love him too much to really ruin his relationship." Ginny smiled softly and brushed a curly, brown strand of hair away from the front of her eyes. "It's annoying at times to see you suffer like this, but you want him to be happy. I understand."
She nodded and looked around the room, taking in the cluttered nick-knacks and toys, "You know, Gin, maybe if you were to clean this room with Harry you two might be able to somewhat…I don't know- relieve the built-up tension in this house."
Sighing, the red head looked around the room too and frowned, "I would love to. It would make him feel better to face the problem straight on, but he doesn't seem to want to come within an inch of this room. It's funny, isn't it? He can face the Dark Lord just fine, but when it comes to loved ones…"
Hermione laughed, "Yes, Harry does seem to have a hard time with confronting 'personal' issues." She thought back to when they visited Godric's Hollow and were about to go and see his parent's grave. She remembered how tightly she had to hold his hand and pull him along. It wasn't until then that Hermione truly realised that even though her best mate was going to have to duel the darkest wizard of their time, he was really just as vulnerable as anyone else. At that moment, she knew that he needed someone to guide him when he just couldn't do it himself.
Looking over her friend and smiling softly, she patted the red-head on the shoulder, "You just need to push him, then."
"Oh, I don't thi-"
Hermione nodded firmly and stepped away, bending down to pick up the sheets once more, "Yes, you can. You make him better, Gin. And if you can't do it, then no one can." She looked down at the sheets and scowled, "Besides…I'd rather you two did this together than me. Honestly, I would love to help you clean the rest of this place, except for Sirius' room…" She smiled and laughed as she walked out of the room with Ginny's muttering, "bugger".
00000000000000000
"Ah, Ms. Granger. Please, come in." The deep voice from Kingsley as she walked fully into the Minister of Magic's office brought such great warmth. Knowing him for quite some time, Hermione knew she was able to relax and take a breather.
The desk in the middle of the big office looked tiny compared to Kingsley's encompassing height and stature. He sat in his chair across from her, in his purple robes that she noticed were shining brightly under the lights within his room. The air was clean and crisp, breathable and giving.
She nodded her head at him and heard her heels click against the polished tiled floor as she made her way to her seat. "Sir." She sat and rested her hands in the crook of her lap, waiting.
He looked her over and as she shifted in her seat silently and she noticed the worry lines on the corners of his eyes and brown lips. It wasn't that Kingsley was ever old, but she was beginning to see what the role of Minister of Magic did to one's being. The way he hunched over as he walked was no longer the same when he was protecting and fighting so many during the war. In fact, his voice was losing its booming effect. Sure the soft, smooth tenor that came from his mouth when he spoke soothed many and calmed nerves. But he wasn't the same. And she noticed it.
"How are you, Ms. Granger?"
She nodded her head and twisted her fingers in her hands, "Alright, I suppose." Softly smiling, she lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes.
He looked her over once more and she noticed that his gaze was worrying as he studied her. "I hope so. This case-"
"The rogue cases, yes. Of course. If you were wondering how they're going, well-"
"I've heard that Gurleroy assigned the case to you and Mr. Malfoy, am I correct?"
She frowned slightly at the question and nodded, "Yes. He and I are meeting up later this week-"
"Ms. Granger."
She bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on him, "Yes."
"If…you don't feel like working with him. We can, I assure you, find someone else."
Confused and shocked, she blinked rapidly before looking around the office in a daze. She wondered why the topic of Draco being her partner on the case even came up. It wasn't like she never worked with him before. And how would the Minister even know about potential complications of working with-
"Harry!"
The old man in front of her smiled softly as he took his glasses off and rubbed the lenses with the sleeve of his robes. "Ah, yes. He did come in here just this morning…"
She shook her head and scowled slightly, "Please, Minister. This situation isn't of great consequence."
He lifted a brow at her and placed his glasses back on. "Oh?" She shook her head once more and sat back in her seat. "Harry seemed quite worried when he came in though, Ms. Granger. I don't think it's not something of great importance."
Her lips thinned and she exhaled a deep breath as she thought of all the hexes she could place on Harry that would mildly affect him six ways from Sunday. "Look, I won't deny that it will be complicated. But I will make it work. In no way will this interfere with the case, sir. I assure you."
He nodded solemnly and looked over the papers on his pristine, wooden desk. Stacks upon stacks lying perfectly in columns as he picked up one folder, opening it and placing the file in front of her. "This is to help you two start up on some research. Your basic evidence. Some have gathered that the underground rogue groups are establishing units all over London. It's still unknown as to where else they've established bases, but know that this isn't a fixed group. They travel. You should see here the evidence that Blasey and Connor were able to leave for you to work with- names, locations, settings, techniques, infiltration plans…"
"Blasey and Connor were on this case before?" All thoughts of disembodying Harry was put to the side as she looked over the parchment filled with names and dates. "Why aren't they working on it now, then? They're one of the best Aurors this Ministry's got." The worry in her voice was evident. She tried her hardest to hide it, but the soft look that the Minister gave her made Hermione blush with embarrassment at the sign of her vulnerability. "I'm sorry, sir-"
"It's quite fine, Ms. Granger. I understand your worry." He sat back and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. "It's not too difficult a case, mind you. Only…well, this one was proving to be quite taxing on the both of them. I decided to hand it over to you- only because I trust your analytical expertise. And this calls for more of that, rather than hunting down Death Eaters."
"Are the rogue groups in this case Death Eaters? Or just another assembly of wizards looking to bring down the Ministry for personal reasons?"
"The latter, I'm afraid. Those are always so much harder to work with, only because of their diverse wants, needs, and personal vendettas." He kept quiet as he looked down at his robes, eyes roving back and forth. "Remember when Ms. Chambers from the Atrium went to St. Mungo's for that terrible infection she caught over the weekend before her admittance into the hospital?" She nodded. "Well, apparently she was poisoned." Hermione gasped as she brought both hands over her mouth in astonishment.
"At the Ministry?" He nodded and rubbed the edge of his brow thoughtfully. "Well, how are you sure?"
He waved his wand in front of him and she watched as the papers in the folder he gave her flipped quickly to what looked to be the seventh page. "These groups assign specific tasks to the members. This particular assignment was assigned to #3445. They don't care for names in this group, it seems. They assign them numbers."
"And Blasey and Connors were able to acquire the list of tasks assigned to these members then?"
Kingsley nodded, "Only a few. The leaders of the groups apparently burn down the list after the members attempt at the tasks."
"Well, why couldn't they get to Mrs. Chambers on time then when it did happen? They knew!"
Kingsley shook his head and frowned, "They wrote down the list the same day Mrs. Chambers was poisoned."
"Merlin…" She whispered as she looked over the information and tasks listed under #3445. "So then they just assign these tasks and expect them to fulfill these deeds? What if they don't?"
Kingsley remained impassive as he flicked his wand once more and watched as the pages flipped to the second to last page. Hermione looked over it and read a few lines before she bit her lip and looked up from it, worried. "They kill them?"
"Yes. It appears so."
"But…won't that dwindle down the number of people involved? Won't that affect them as a group?" She looked back at the parchment and read over the words once again. Then suddenly with a thought she looked up at Kingsley and stared, "Unless…"
"What is it, Ms. Granger?"
"Unless, they're doing this to make sure that we don't get to them faster." Kingsley looked at her questioningly and she breathed out quickly before tapping her finger against the file. "Think about it. They don't accomplish the task…well, then that would only leave the group with a burden. A taxing member. It affects their power, in a way. They're not so much focused on the number, but rather the force and strength. They take out the weak and leave the stronger ones in their ranks. This enables them to not be burden down and it leaves us with not being able to capture the 'weak' ones, in their case, for questioning."
She quickly breathed out a gust of air and smiled softly at the revelation that was brought to her. It made perfect sense, really. And when she got the time to work on this with Draco, she knew he'd bring in his two-cents as well. She smiled at the prospect, but caught herself quickly before covering it up and looking back at the Minister.
He nodded at her solemnly, eyes concerned, before closing the file with a flick of his wand. "Seems to me that you can handle this case quite well, Ms. Granger." She nodded with a quick smile and took the folder. She stood up and bid a quick goodbye to Kingsley before turning around to walk out of his office. She was stopped, however, by his deep voice and she looked back to see him perched over his papers. He took off his glasses once more and rubbed his eyes before looking up at her tiredly, "Also, Ms. Granger. I asked about Mr. Malfoy not because I was worried about the outcome of the case." She frowned as he continued, "I understand Harry's worry, you know. It's not the easiest thing to do. To have to surround yourself with people or things that you give you the most unsettling feelings- it's usually not a healthy circumstance to find yourself in."
She stared back and nodded weakly as she turned around, scrunching her eyebrows together. She walked out of the Minister of Magic's office with less strength to draw in the same easy, crisp air she inhaled when she walked in.
00000000000000000
November 2000
Hermione knew that he was usually late on these particular nights where they had to stay at the Wizengamot Administration Services office overnight. Working on independent cases, as well as the one that they were assigned to beforehand called for more than one occasion of bringing in the necessary supplies needed to work on the overloaded papers and cases.
She heard heels clicking against the floor of the office and looked up to see the new employee that she was introduced to today walk in with a stack of papers piling high.
"Do you need help with those?" Standing up, she walked around her desk and assisted the blonde before the stacks came falling around them.
The girl smiled at Hermione softly and nodded as she righted herself up and adjusted the rest of the papers that she held in her arms. "Thank you, Ms. Granger."
Hermione smiled and walked to the blonde's desk, which was right next to hers. Placing the stacks of parchments on there, she stood back and watched as the girl sat at her desk and rearranged everything. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."
The blonde looked up, her clear blue eyes warm and bright. She held out her delicate hand and stared up earnestly, "Alison Dillbage." Hermione nodded with a smile and shook her hand back.
Sitting down at her desk, she took the folders out of the drawers, getting them ready for when Draco came by. "How do you like it here so far?"
Alison sighed as she separated half of a big stack from the other. "Loaded."
Hermione smiled and opened one file, looking over the same words she had been reading for the past twenty minutes. "It gets better. Or rather…more adjustable."
"I just don't understand how so many of you can take on more than two cases at a time."
"Yes," she read over a highlighted line in her file and looked up quickly with a smirk at the blonde. "Ludicrous, isn't it?"
Alison nodded and opened her mouth to speak but was cut off at the sound of the office's doors opening and heavy, footsteps thudding against the floors. "Granger, you better have a good excuse as to why I ran into your Weasel of a friend-"
"Which one, Malfoy?"
"The bint, of course! Merlin, the nerve she has. Yapping on about how I should conduct myself around you and not give you any trouble…" He shook his head and stopped in front of her, dropping a bag full of food on her desk. "I actually went to the Muggle restaurant we went to last time. You know- the one you dragged me into…"
"Obviously it shouldn't be an issue now since you seem to like their food, Draco."
He scoffed at her and took off his cloak, laying it down on the chair in front of her desk and turning around to look at the almost empty office. His eyes landed on Alison and he nodded diligently at her and looked back at Hermione. "Who's the broad?"
"Draco!" He shrugged up his shoulders and planted himself in the leather chair, crossing his outstretched legs at the ankle. Hermione shook her head and looked over at Alison apologetically, "I'm sorry, Alison. He's quite…untamed."
Draco scoffed and smirked at Hermione, "Untamed? That sounds almost…animalistic." He turned in his seat and reached out his hands over to the blonde's desk. "Draco Malfoy, pleasure." She took his hands in hers nervously, looking over towards Hermione the whole time. Hermione attempted a strained smile and when the two let go she frowned at Draco and shook her head.
"You can attempt to act human sometimes, you know. That was quite rude of you to call her a 'broad'."
He rolled his eyes at her and grabbed a folder from a neatly stacked pile, "Oh shut it, Granger. Your manners kill me sometimes."
"Your lack thereof makes me wonder what will happen to mankind."
He smirked up at her and flipped through the parchment, "Well…we'd all become 'untamed' animals, according to you."
She blushed and grabbed the big bag of food off her desk, untying the ends and opening it up. "Did you get my-"
"Yes, the number four without the broccoli, because you can't seem to swallow those devils down like a champ. Yes, of course."
She frowned as she took her plate of food out and looked over at Alison quickly, noticing that the blonde was sneaking glances over at Draco as she worked over her mile-high stacks of papers.
00000000000000000
November 2003 (Present)
"I'm coming!" Hermione shouted as she left her kitchen, tying her hair in a tight bun on top of her head, leaving strands in front of her face. She wiped her hands on the front of her trousers and looked down at her yellow jumper, before groaning at the sauce stain on the front of it.
Licking her thumb to rub a smudge of it off, she reached her door and looked through the peephole before opening it. Seeing who it was, she frowned at her door with confusion before clearing her throat and turning the knob.
"Hermione, love!" She felt, more than saw, her mother run into her with a tight hug, her father standing behind her in his classic, knitted blue jumper that she had bought him for his birthday three years ago.
She awkwardly patted her mother on the back and walked backwards into her flat, letting her parents in. She closed the door and locked it, turning around to stare at them once more. They were standing in the middle of the living room, looking around as if they'd never been in her place before.
"Mum. Dad." She whispered as she walked closer to them, slowly with a weak smile. "Is something the matter?"
Her mother shook her head and smiled, "Of course not, dear. Just stopping by for some dinner."
Hermione looked between the two and noticed her father's silence stance as he stood behind her mother, hands clasped behind his back. "Right…"
"What is it you're making, by the way? It's on your jumper." Her mother walked across the lit room and wiped away at the stain that Hermione had been worried about just a few moments ago.
She looked down at her mother and sighed heavily, moving back a step after insistent poking at her chest. "Pasta. Why didn't you call?"
"Oh, well. I don't know…"
Hermione's eyebrows rose and she looked back at her father who remained quiet. "Okay, then. Well, thank Merlin I made a heavy serving tonight." She looked back at her mother and shook her head as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen. "Could you and father set up the table for me then, mum?" She shouted as he took the lid off the pot and mixed the sauce.
"Of course, dear."
Hermione muttered under her breath as she walked around the kitchen, quickly taking the three plates out and scooping the pasta from the pot.
Her mother had an unsettling habit of doing things like this- visiting Hermione on days that didn't call for much company.
All she wanted to do was eat her pasta on the lounge chair in her study, read a book with a glass of wine and possibly catch an early snooze before tomorrow. Merlin knew she needed it.
She was going to work with him tomorrow on the case. Having already forwarded copies of the file that Kingsley had given to her, she knew that to be best. She didn't want to start off their case with an unsettling disposition and a nervous inclination to explain everything in the folder. It was better to send it to him.
Owling him, however. It was strange, to say the least. She hadn't done it in so long. Especially since her stationary owl hadn't been giving lots of messages in the past two months or so. And she did notice the excitement in Orwell's eyes when she sent the bird off to give the file to Draco. The bird was quite fond of him- since the day that she first sent Orwell to deliver a message to Draco just three years ago.
She remembered laughing as the bird came back with a particular, giddy flight in its wings as she had taken the note out of his mouth. Apparently Draco didn't take the bird's natural tendency to bite when not given any snacks all too well at the time. But from then on…she wasn't too sure why the owl and Draco got along so bloody well.
She heard footsteps along the tiled floor in her kitchen and turned around to see her father walk in, hands clasped tightly behind his back still. She smiled and set the pot down on the stove, wiping her hands with the damp cloth on the ceramic counter. "Finished?"
He nodded and a soft crinkle formed around his brown eyes as he walked further into the kitchen, over to the three plates of pasta. Nodding, he looked up at her. "Looks wonderful, darling."
She shrugged and turned around, opening a drawer to fish around for some forks. "Standard cooking, really. Nothing too special."
She took three silver forks out and handed one to her dad, "We were going to call…"
She nodded her head and picked up her plate, watching her dad to the same with his and her mother's. "It's fine. Nice to have you two here anyways." She wasn't lying all too much though. It was…somewhat, comforting- she knew that the solitude that she trapped herself in was beginning to close in on her and make the spaces around her seem more cramped and less freeing.
Ginny always commented on her hermitage at times, and even though Hermione was sincerely okay with it, she knew it was somehow eating up inside her.
Yes, the idea of sitting alone with glass of wine and a decent book was tempting. But the surprise of having her parents over was bigger than that. She knew it was nice to have them here- to tell them things. She told them so much and catching up with them never hurt.
Walking into the dining room and now looking at her mother sitting at the table and smiling up at her father, who placed her plate of pasta in front of her, Hermione felt a knotted up feeling rise in her chest. Just a tiny knot, really. Yet it was something quite indescribable.
As she sat down and watched her mother talk and uphold the conversation around the table, reaching over to stick her fork in her father's plate to get some food, smiling as she poured wine into his glass, as well as Hermione's, and noticing the crinkles around the alabaster skin of her smile- Hermione just felt like having her parents over was something she needed.
"Hermione, darling, do you have any cake in the fridge? Something sweet for us to nibble on after this meal?" Hermione nodded and smiled at her mother, taking another bite from her plate. "Lovely. This meal is splendid, dear." Her mother smiled at her quickly before taking a quick bite and looking up at Hermione's father with an inquisitive, jovial look on her face. As if she was sharing a secret only he would know about through her eyes.
Of course, Hermione wasn't too sure what they were communicating non-verbally. But it didn't take magic to know that they knew what the other was thinking- mind, body, and soul.
Sighing, she took another bite and stared hard at her red-brick colored wine in her tiny glass.
00000000000000000
Shuffle, shuffle.
Flip, flip.
Black, quill ink scratched up against the solid parchments in the stuffed room. A sofa chair was lined up against the bare brick wall of the room. A bookshelf filled with magical law books dating back to the 1st century was lined up against another, and the desk that Hermione and Draco were working at was lined up against the wall opposite the bookshelf, very near to the fireplace that was attached to the Floo Network.
They both decided to work in the small, lounge room on the floor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Only because it was the only room on the level that had the activated Floo Network at this time of the night and being able to work on everything and then grab all the necessary books if she needed to continue reading proved to be an advantage, so that she wouldn't have to carry the books a long distance to this room to then floo.
But now she was regretting it greatly.
The room was so small. Something she noticed after they both walked in. There were only two chairs, one desk, and a sofa. Usually in the morning, however, there were more chairs and tables, but seeing as how it was midnight and the cleaning crew usually came in around ten to tidy things up, she understood partly as to why the room was so barren and empty looking. The cleaning crew stacked up the chairs, obviously. But the fact that now she and Draco were both sitting at the same tiny desk, one in front of the other, looking over sheets of information and pages from books- well, she know understood the meaning of "awkward".
Sure. There were many awkward moments in her life, many that were highly embarrassing and humiliating, but this one- well this one nailed the definition spot on.
Looking up from her papers- the ones she read about five times prior to coming here with him- she watched as the fringes from his usually neatly, placed hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. His head was bent down and his two hands were under his chin as he stared hard at the paper. She watched as his eyes moved from left to right rapidly, almost impossibly fast. And she knew then that he wasn't reading.
The stiff shoulders and the tightening of his clenched hands- they were all signs. She was getting too good at reading him.
She continued to look at him, but was caught off guard when he looked up at her, steel, cold eyes glinting under the dim lights of the room. Blazen with the fire's flaring glint of explosive flame.
Holding her breath in and blushing profusely, she tried to take her eyes off of him and look back down at her work, but his mouth was moving, no words were coming out and she shook her head slightly, still staring hopelessly.
"Granger." She heard him say, lips moving over his words.
"Yes?" She awoke slightly from her daze and stared clearly at him to let him know he had her somewhat full attention.
"I said would you mind handing me the book to your right? I need it." His voice was cold, void of any emotion as he stared harder at her- waiting.
Bristled by his standoffish demeanor, she lifted up her chin and grabbed the book from her side, dropping it lightly on his folder. She then turned back to her papers, flipping through the pages.
She was sure that she memorized the whole case's information and she was beginning to get a little twitchy. All she wanted to do was get this meeting over with and she promised herself that he wouldn't affect her like this. But she knew that she was being delusional if she thought that having him here wouldn't affect her. He always affected her, didn't he? His actions, his words…his voice.
It was nice to hear him say something after the tense hour of being in the lounge with nothing but a crackling fire and shuffling papers. But it was getting useless and they really needed to start working on some ideas for the case.
Pushing back her shoulders and looking up at him once again, she lightly gasped as she looked into grey eyes that stared hard at her still. He had been watching her. She wasn't too sure if she was supposed to be amused by it, but she brushed the feeling aside and looked away from his eyes to stare at the window behind him as she spoke. "So, any ideas then?"
She heard movements from where he sat and looked back at him to see that he was shifting in his seat, eyes still on her, until he was seated back with his legs outstretched and heels lightly touching the front of her shoes. She wasn't too sure if he was aware of it, but judging from the blank expression on his face she guessed not.
But then again, it was Draco Malfoy. Master of hidden emotions.
"Well, we're going to have to start off the same way that Blasey and Connors did, aren't we?"
She nodded and looked over the notes, "We'll most likely have to get some Polyjuice potion so we can change into them. I don't know how the members will react to new members wanting to join the forces. And it would make it easier for us to go through the motions, really. We wouldn't have to start from the beginning to then work our way up."
Looking up at him for affirmation, she was only able to see a disapproving look in his eyes. "We?"
Confused, she closed her folder. "Well, yes. Do you not want to go-"
"It's not me that I'm questioning, Granger."
It took her a while to understand him fully, but as soon as he caught on to his intended words, she scowled at him and whispered harshly, "I'm going."
He shook his head and sat up in his chair, hands folded over his folder. "I don't think so. Looking over these files and judging from how this 'rogue' group works…they're not simpletons, Granger. They're different from the other 'rogue' groups we've worked with in the past."
"You think I'll get caught, don't you?"
His eyes grew dim and his expression more dark, "I know you will."
"I'm no simpleton, either! I'm very capable of taking care of myself, thank you."
He rolled his eyes, "Of course you're no idiot. But you will slow us down if we need to run away, if an emergency calls for us to leave quickly…and it'll be then that you'll get caught."
"You-" She stopped and looked him over, to see if he was being serious. Yes, he was right. She wasn't apt to really run as fast as him, or dodge dark magic as well as he usually did. But she was calculating and logical. She knew loads of spells that not even he knew about. Without a doubt, he would need her there to gather the right information while he worked on trying to protect both of their arses. Like they always use to do! So why was he now deciding to dispose all of that for his selfish intentions? "You're impossible, you know that?"
"And you're overreacting."
"I am not! If anyone is being irrational about this, it's you."
He rose up in his seat some more, back straight and eyes cold. "I am being rational, Granger. You will slow us down."
She scoffed and started to grab the book around her, shutting them and stack one on top of the other. "Yes, and if you go alone, who will be able to collect the information needed then?"
"I will."
"Yes," she nodded numbly, grabbing her wand after stacking all the books. "Because you are as observant as I am."
"Is that supposed to be an offense?"
She looked up, "No. It's the truth." Grabbing her bag and shoving the folder inside of it, she stood up and grabbed hold of all the books. "As a team, Draco, we always worked in that fashion. You kept us away from danger and I got the information because we both knew our strength and weaknesses. Now saying that you don't want me there because it'll slow down the process…well, that's a poor excuse, really."
He looked up at her silently and stared at the books she was carrying, "Where do you think you're headed off to?"
She sighed and walked over the fire, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle. "Home. You irritate me fiercely sometimes and I would like to get things in preparation for when we head over to the 'rogue' group's headquarters in two days time."
"No, Granger. I told you that you won't be participating in this!" He stood up from his chair and marched the short distance to where she stood. The floo powder was sifting the through the spaces in between her fingers as she watched his face turn a pale shade of red.
She silently looked over him and lifted up her chin, "I think we're past that don't you think? Demanding things from one another and then complying because that's what a relationship is all about…compliance."
"Granger, don't you dare-"
"Goodnight, Draco. I'll see you tomorrow, then?" She threw the floo into the fireplace, walked in and shouted to go home. Before leaving though, she was sure she saw anger simmer through his eyes. And she wanted to believe so hard that there was a glint of worry…but she knew that imagining things wasn't good for her health anymore.
0000000000000000
January 2001
Her breath caught in her dry throat as the fire around her grew and raced through the corridors that she left in her frantic path. She needed to find the tree so that she could Apparate away from the burning manor.
Cold sweat ran down the side of her dirt-stained face. It was the only thing that was reassuring her that she wasn't being consumed by the storming fire that grew or the heat that enveloped and consumed. And as she turned down the hall and made a left for the rickety door the knob was jabbed and unmoving. She grew frantic and cursed under her breath. Grabbing her wand and pointing it at the door, she watched as the purple ray of light exploded from the end of the vine wood and ran through the arch of the doorway where the door had been, broken wood falling around her.
She looked behind her and heard the voices of men running around the flaming hallways she had been in earlier. She felt this impossible inclination to go and help them. To save their lives, but she knew that if she did Draco would never forgive her. He would jokingly call her "weak", reprimand her for her "hero complex", which he mentioned wasn't as severe as Harry's, and then would look at her with a mixture of worry and disappointment.
And right now, she didn't need that. She ran head of herself and opened the other door across the room she had entered in, looking at the shredded steps of the staircase. It looked unsafe and she knew that if she were to run down it to head outside that she would most likely fall through the creaking boards. But one look behind her and she knew that she had to at least try.
She stormed down, breathing heavily as she stepped precariously on the worn out steps. Her whole body was shaking and she muttered under her a breath a list of spells that could have helped her in this situation if she were to fall through the boards.
Soon she was on the last steps before she fell over and scraped her arm against the shredded piece of wood that jabbed out from the railings at the bottom. She hadn't seen it because of how dark the first floor of the manor was and when she heard the swirling torpedo of the fire reach the top the stairs behind her; she stumbled as she got up and ran quickly through the front entrance and outside.
The air was dark and cloudy, the smoke rising above the moonless sky, covering the ever-lasting twinkle of the stars above. Shredding all hope of surviving for those who unfortunately had no time to escape the Fiendfyre's rapid rage.
She gasped out loud as the smoke caught up in the throat, coughing harshly as she ran through the grass of the field.
The tree, the tree.
She muttered under a breath a quick prayer to whoever was watching over her and ran haphazardly through the muggy, faded dark. It was then that she remembered her wand. Casting a "lumos" and looking around her, dark figures running through the field around her- those who managed to escape.
"Move, move, move!"
"Over here, mate-"
"-Benson! Where he is? We have to go back!"
Hermione shut her eyes, as if closing them would cloud the desperate sounds of the members around her. Calling out for help and wondering where most of their comrades were.
The tree, the tree.
She stepped over twigs and ducked under branches, cursing under her breath as she wondered why the bloody tree had to be so far away from the site.
But when she tripped over her feet, hands still trembling and breathing still a bit wheezed and sore, she looked and saw the tree, shrouding over her with its branches and leaves hanging down on her with repentance. She closed her eyes and breathed out a quick sigh of relief, only hearing the shouts and orders around her.
Keeping her thoughts in order and trying hard to concentrate, she raised her wand and Apparated away.
The pull made her feel a little uneasy but when she opened her eyes as soon as her bottom landed softly on the rug she breathed out a deep breath and began coughing mercilessly. It, however, was interrupted as soon as she felt a hand grab her injured arm to tug her off the floor. Shaking her weak form.
A harsh breath flew in her ear and she closed her eyes as she smelt the familiar scent of mint and smoke. "You. Are. Mental!"
She shook out of her daze and groaned at the pain, "Malfoy, let go-"
"You could have gotten yourself killed! Perished in the fire!"
Why was her arm hurting so damn much? She looked around the safe house and finally looked at Draco, eyes grey and weary. The anger in his voice was so palpable and real though. But his eyes…
"Draco, could you let go of my arm. I'm injured."
He looked down at her and quickly let go, but only to return his touch by gently holding her bloodied arm in his rough hands, wand over it. "I'll heal it-" She made a sound to protest, but he hushed her. "Shut up, Granger! You bloody well didn't listen when I told you follow me out of the manor, so let me just…let me just fix your bloody arm!"
She bit her lip and watched as the light from his wand enveloped her sliced skin, leaving behind a light pink scar and smudges of dry blood in its wake. She sighed at the sight of it healed and looked back up at Malfoy. "Thank you." She whispered. She knew that he was still somewhat livid about the whole thing, but she was too tired to argue.
He held on tighter to her arm and she frowned at his grip, "Could you possibly let go?"
"You had me worried."
She rolled her eyes, "You're stressed out because the plan foiled on us. Just let me go and we can discuss this after I have a bath."
His grip tightened and she raised a brow at him as his voice wavered over her, "Don't."
"Don't what? Take a bath?"
He pulled her into him and he looked troubled as he ran his other hand over her tangled hair, watching as the soot flew around her face. "I was worried, Granger. So damn worried."
She stared up at him tiredly, but weakly lifted her hand to rest it on his shoulder for reassurance. "I'm fine." He didn't look too convinced and she bit her lip as she looked over the lines in his forehead. She rubbed them away and watched as look in his eyes cooled down and grew more subtle and soft. "They don't call me the Brightest Witch of Our Age for nothing, you know." She smiled softly. He nodded, still a blank look in his face. She frowned then and patted his cheek, "I'm fine, really. Just let me go take a bath and-"
His lips crash down on hers and she gasped out loud at the feel of them. He moved them over, hesitant at first. It was chaste and quick, the coolness and feel of him was off her in a quick second afterwards. He was breathing heavily in her face and all she could do was keep her mouth shut tight as confusion clouded her mind.
Shaking her head and looking around them, she then noticed that they were standing quite close to each other and she knew that if she didn't want this happening again that she would have to move away from his warmth.
She pulled away, but was brought back in with his other arm around her waist.
Laying a hand on his chest to push him off of her, she stared at her fingers threading through the buttons on his shirt. "We can't." She whispered in exasperation.
"Yes, we can."
She looked up at him and once more felt his lips on hers, prying her mouth open, biting her lower lip and licking the top. She moaned in feeling and in anguish, thoughts of what was logical at the moment with what she thought felt good coursing through her hare-brained mind.
Merlin, did he taste good. And as he tightened his hold on her waist and she clutched the front of his shirt tightly, she lost herself in the feel of him. Knowing that if she didn't survive the fire, that regrettably she would have missed one of the best feelings she'd ever felt in her lifetime.