Hermione had her face schooled into a lake of calm but inside her emotions rushed like waves. How did he know? When did he find out? After all this time I get brought down by Malfoy. Of course, that's just bloody brilliant. How much time did she have?
Before she truly set her escape in motion, she forced her thoughts to calm. She knew she tended to panic in these situations. Instead she slowly turned while shooting him a doubtful glance.
"Oh? Who am I Mr. Malfoy?" She held herself with confidence, even under fear of the answer.
"You use tea bags." Hermione tried to suss out any meaning from the statement and had come up dry. Did he know or didn't he? She was growing tired of the games and may have snapped a bit more than she intended.
"What on earth does that mean?"
"The locals here drink loose leaf and strain it. You use tea bags."
"I don't like tea in my teeth." She fired back.
"You offered milk and sugar even though you took none."
"Some people like milk and sugar."
"Not here they don't." Hermione cursed inwardly to herself. She spent so much time here and had managed to forget that little detail.
"What is your point?"
"You were raised in England. Possibly another European country but I doubt it considering your taste in quality tea and preferred style of cup."
"That one you are wrong on. These are simply cups I had picked up on sale." She responded huffily. She didn't think they were very English-looking at all.
"So then I am right about everything else?" Somewhat annoyed by his word play, somewhat entertained she decided to close the conversation anyway. Perhaps if she just gave him what he wanted he would leave her be.
"If you want the recipe that badly just take it." She waved her wand in the general direction of the door and a slip of paper came flying in, resting on the table in front of him. She was almost offended by his look of disgust.
"I hardly care for such an insignificant recipe. No, I need the concept behind it. I want your knowledge." Feeling the major warning bells going off in her head she twitched her wand calling for Timbala.
"Unfortunately for you, my brain in firmly planted in my head. Now please leave before I-"
"You will tutor me."
"Oh? Will I?" She crossed her arms in a way that she was sure was out of character but the audacity of the statement had called for it.
"Yes. I will pay you well and arrange living quarters. You will see me on my schedule and will work until I deem the information learned in which case you will be paid a more than generous retirement sum and can buy yourself a beach house in… I don't know… Figi." He waved his hand while pulling out a stack of coins. It was almost laughable if it weren't happening to her. Malfoy was trying to buy her!
"While that is quite a generous offer, I am not your sort of person." His eyebrow raised in question at her. "I am not a pureblood."
He scoffed, startling her. "That hardly matters within the realm of education."
It irked her how such a point of torture to her for years was now hardly worth mentioning. She rubbed her left forearm absently. "I am not even half-blood."
His lip twitched and his counting stalled. "You're a mudblood."
"Muggleborn." She hissed with enough venom to make him jump. After a moment of silence, he continued to count.
"Well you are a talented mud- muggleborn and will be compensated as such. No need to haggle, more will be sent to your account to assist with relocation."
"Well," She paused in her shock looking for words. She pulled the first thought she could from her head."I am sure your father is proud."
Again he stopped counting, clenching the gold tightly. "My father is dead."
Unfortunately, Hermione found the right words for the wrong time. "I cannot give you my condolences."
"Did you know him?" For the first time Hermione was able to relax. Safe from identification, even with her slip. It appeared he did not recognize her after all.
"Somewhat. A horrid man." Her face instinctually scrunched up as it always did when speaking of any death eaters. The memories may blur but she never quite found a way to make them fade.
"I am not like him." It was small and quiet. Not quite a point of shame but more of a sad truth. It left Hermione flabbergasted and vaguely pitying her old enemy.
"I am not available for teaching, for any amount of money." Hermione saw more of a human soul in the Malfoy heir, or head she supposed, today than she had in the 8 years of knowing him. A small fire she had attributed to the discovery of her identity died behind his eyes. He was genuinely interested in learning, even if he didn't know it was her. Perhaps, she could use this to her advantage after all.
"Oh, I see." He stood up abruptly and somewhat shocked. He made quick work of the coins, sliding them back into his bag. "I am sorry for wasting your time today."
"However, I am looking for an apprentice." She had thought it but didn't expect her mouth to actually be able to deliver the words to a sworn enemy. The Ravenclaw part of her screamed that everyone who yearned for knowledge deserved it. While the rest of her logical side was stunned into silence before scoffing that he would never accept it anyway.
"I would hardly call my skill level apprentice." He responded back after what felt like an eternity.
"That is the only position open." Much to her chagrin he seemed to consider it. She was mentally screaming at herself as she weighed trying to backpedal against the offer versus wondering how much fun it would be to have Malfoy under her thumb.
"What are the requirements?" She had never expected that he would even consider this. She had to think of something still that would keep him around just long enough that she could get everything she needed done but not so long he wouldn't outright reject it.
"I will teach you all I know and guide you through improving yourself. In exchange, you will come to my workshop every day to assist in however I see fit for one year. You may not share any information about me, my shops, or my life; however, your education is yours to do with what you please."
"I run a large company you know." He responded bitterly as Timbala finally appeared in the doorway. She let herself relax, knowing she had caught the wizard in front of her.
"You have minions to run a large company. You make custom potions for rich men with infidelity problems."
"Why would I work for you for a year? How do I know that you aren't just a one trick pony?"
"Fine," Hermione snickered to herself. He had no idea how out of his league he was. "If before a year, by some grace of god, you manage to learn all that you can from me, you may consider the bargain upheld."
"I think you underestimate me."
"I think you overestimate yourself." She responded as he stood. She assumed he was planning to shake her hand to seal the deal, as if she would trust his word. "If you find this agreement reasonable you will make an unbreakable vow."
She smiled as he practically fell back his chair a vaguely haunted look on his face. He paused for a moment, staring at the table. "That's very dark magic."
"Not here." She responded, looking longingly at her empty tea cup. She was still not sure that this was the right move, but she didn't have the time she needed for any other option. "Here we don't make promises we don't intend to keep. Now, if you agree Timbala will act as our caster. Otherwise please leave my shop."
"Why do you need an unbreakable vow then?"
"I hardly expect you to hold the same, or any, morales as the wonderous people of this country. My life is private and I would like to keep it that way. If you don't agree that perfectly-"
"Agreed." His whisper was hesitant and barely audible.
"What?"
"Agreed. So you will have your man cast it?" He eyed the large Indian man with a look of distaste, trying to regain his compourse. Timbala remained passive as he eyed Hermione with a look of pity." Does he know how to do it without leaving a scar or losing a finger?"
"I didn't think you'd take it." She uttered mostly to herself. She did her best to suppress the disgust at the whole situation in exchange for the small spark of hope.
"Are you backing out?" He questioned with that god-damned typical smirk of his. Like he had played the game the whole time and left her at the start. Her temper flared but she couldn't scare him off.
"Hardly. Timbala, I need a Vow." Timbala moved into the room with surprising grace for a man his size, coming to a stop just close enough to Malfoy to seem uncomfortable. It seems she wasn't the only one enjoying watching the Slytherin squirm.
"Are you sure, Miss?" She simply nodded. Knowing better than to question her twice he raised his own wand between the two of them. "Hold out your wands."
Hermione did just that. She lifted her beautiful thin vinewood wand, pulsing with life. Compared to the cold skeletal black of his hawthorn it seemed sickly, like the very core had been tainted. Nonetheless, they crossed wands with Timbala's steadfast Oak at the intersection acting as a guide. He nodded to her to start.
"For one year, I will teach you willingly. I will give you skills to better your potions ability and hopefully yourself." A gold light snaked its way from Timbala's wand to her wrist winding around and back down it.
"For one year." He paused looking her directly in the eye. "or until I have learned what I can, I will be your apprentice. I will work every day to learn more. I will learn from your teachings and keep the secrets you hold safe."
A second golden strand mirrored her own, snaking around Malfoy's wrist before connecting again at the center, glowing brightly before fading away.
Just like that, she was Draco Malfoy's Master and all she had wanted was some tea.