*Thanks so far to all who have read this story. I'm really super excited about it and updates should be pretty fast and furious for at least a while. I forgot to mention in the first chapter but, of course, this whole world belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm glad to have the opportunity to play with them. Very special shout out to Harry-Hermione-Ginny-Potter for the beautiful review and thanks also to ToxicTeuta, mesa24, sbolzzz, and tangerinequeen for the follows. Love you guys :) P.S. if you have any questions or thoughts feel free to leave them in the review section and I'll answer them here when I post the next chapter. *
Hermione flooed to work the next morning and quickly went to the bathroom when she got out of the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic. She shuffled in front of a mirror and pinched and prodded at her skin trying to get some color in her cheeks and beneath her black eyes. She looked as though she were half dead. Harry, Ron, nor Ginny, if she saw her today, would be pleased to see that. Hermione also played with her hair trying to figure out where it was best before giving up and just throwing it into a simple bun. She managed to make it very tight so it at least looked semi-professional.
An elevator was just about to leave so she scurried in and asked for floor two. That was her favorite part of work. Even though she didn't actually work with Harry and Ron in the Auror's office, she worked right next to them. Her job was simple as far as she was concerned. Hermione had been hard at work for almost the entire year trying to root out the pro-pureblood laws that had flooded the system over the years and had built up at an impossibly quick rate when Voldemort had been in charge. It hadn't always been easy because some of her colleagues would disagree with her and she'd have to fight tooth and nail for the permission to disband the law and replace it with the new one she had written, but she was stubborn and she was starting to have a reputation for being so. It was getting to the point where a couple of people in the office would give her whatever she asked for right away so she wouldn't be pestering them for the rest of the day about it.
"Morning Cho," she said as she entered the office. "How did the Tornados do last night?"
"Great! Thanks for asking. Tell Harry hi for me."
"Of course."
Hermione continued to her desk sharing similar conversations with most of the office. She may be stubborn but people were also willing to come and approach her because she made it her mission to respect and listen to everyone. Hermione already knew she was going to go far in this building. Everyone respected her and her work.
Once she reached her desk she set to work rewriting a law that blatantly provided more rights for purebloods in the prosecution of crimes and where their trials were held. This was the hardest part of her job because if she didn't write it exactly right there would be loopholes. And the problem with a large government with all sorts of people was that it was guaranteed that there would be at least one person who would abuse the loophole and then claim they'd done nothing wrong. Hermione could never argue, of course, because they were technically right. As far as she was concerned, however, she was never going to be in that situation again. These laws were going to be written perfectly. She spent all the time up to the break for lunch working diligently on that. Nobody could ever claim she wasn't worth the money she was paid. Hermione actually expected a raise soon, too, and that was good because it meant more money for luxury time, which she couldn't claim to have now. It also meant a couple extra days of vacation time and that couldn't hurt either.
She picked up the simple sack her lunch was in and went out into the hallway. There was a bench against the wall just a couple of feet down from the exit of her office and that was where Harry, Ron, and her would meet every day to discuss the happenings so far, how late they would have to work today, and anything else that had occurred recently that they hadn't managed to tell each other yet. She opened up her lunch and dug through the food items to find a sandwich. She unwrapped it carefully and then bit down enjoying the flood of roast beef and warm cheese that flowed through her mouth. Hermione smiled gently and sunk back against the wall. Her hand had been cramping earlier from all the writing but she'd found the best cure in food.
Harry and Ron appeared from the Auror's office with similar sacks and settled down next to Hermione. None of them said anything for a while, simply enjoying their lunch, and then Harry very gently set everything down and turned to Hermione very seriously.
"What?" Hermione asked, surprised. She looked over at Ron who was studiously avoiding her gaze and shaking his head lightly. "Give her a chance to tell us, mate," she heard him murmur to Harry.
"You were attacked last night," Harry stated. It wasn't a question. There was a brief second where she wondered how he'd known but then she remembered he worked with Aurors and she silently scolded herself for being so stupid. She was getting the sense Harry had expected a call the previous night so that he could know for sure if she was okay.
Hermione nodded cautiously. Harry was fuming, "And you didn't think to call on any of us? To tell us that, I don't know, you weren't injured or in serious danger of dying or anything?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was flustered and the last thing on my mind was apparating and telling anybody about it. I just wanted to sleep."
"Doesn't look like you got much of that," Ron said, gesturing to her face.
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione sneered. "I'm truly sorry, Harry."
He calmed down at her apology and sighed, "Well are you okay?"
"Yes."
"You look completely unhurt actually," Harry stated. This was more of a question though then the statement before. She knew he wanted to know how she'd escaped almost entirely unscathed from an attack that had managed to bruise George up pretty bad and almost killed Neville.
"I have a huge bruise on my shoulder and bum actually," she said, "But besides that you're right. Mostly unscathed. Harry, it was the strangest thing. The death eater, whoever he was, was wearing one of those dumb masks, but I couldn't ever see him. Once he appeared right behind me and whispered in my ear. That's how easy it was for him to sneak up on me. I have no idea how he was doing it, but he kept disappearing and then reappearing in places I couldn't find him, but close enough that he could do damage. That's why nobody can put up a fight. There's nothing to shoot at and nowhere to go."
"How are you not in St. Mungo's then?" Ron asked.
Hermione was silenced by the question. She'd fully intended to tell both of them about Malfoy but now she wasn't sure how they would react. They'd probably tell her she was an idiot for following or that dying would've been better than trusting that ferret. Harry sensed her hesitancy, however, and she knew there was no escaping the question now.
"Malfoy found me and took me to his place. It was a safe house. It had the Fidelius charm on it and everything. I didn't even know people did that anymore but apparently he's been in hiding for a while. The death eaters really want to kill him for deserting."
"And you went with that miserable piece of shit?" Ron asked startled. Hermione glanced quickly at Harry, whose face was passive as stone. He wasn't going to judge before the story was over. For that, Hermione shot him a small smile. "There weren't a whole lot of options, Ron. It was either that or die and frankly I thought it would be easier to kill Malfoy than my attacker if it came to that."
That actually made sense to Ron and he nodded in agreement, seeing no fault in the logic. Harry also appeared satisfied but he remained curious. "But why? Why did he help you?"
"He said it was because he couldn't watch a person die. That must've been part of his daily job requirement as a death eater so I actually don't know what he was on about. But apparently, he couldn't watch me die when he could do something about it. It was all very strange. He was being...nice. He wanted company and offered me tea and...I don't know...but it was not the Malfoy we grew up with."
"I'm sure the fucker just buried it deep so you wouldn't curse the living shit out of him," Ron murmured darkly.
"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. "Any thoughts, Harry?"
"I don't know. He seemed to have good intentions, which isn't him at all unless it's the easy way out, but saving you was not the easy way out by any means. It doesn't fit, Hermione. There's got to be something else."
She shook her head. Hermione could see the cogs turning in Harry's head but he wasn't pumping anything out. He just kept shaking his head slightly in confusion and murmuring about how it didn't make sense. "The only conclusion I can come to is that he had a rather significant ulterior motive."
"Like what Harry?" Hermione groaned, fixing him with her most disparaging look.
"Fuck if I know, but there's something fishy about it. Not even you can deny that, Hermione. He doesn't just randomly do stuff like that. Especially if he's supposed to be in hiding and especially not for someone like you."
"A mudblood?"
"Yeah."
Ron was considering what Harry had said and then gazed at Hermione quizzically. None of them could come up with a single good explanation why Malfoy had saved her last night and then offered her tea. Then Ron piped up, "Maybe he was lonely. I'm not saying it's likely," he continued, lifting his hands in the air as he received sarcastic glances from both of his friends, "But if he really is lonely as he claimed to be I can see why he would do what he did. What better way to place someone in your debt and make sure they give you the time of day, at least for a little while. God bless you for not, by the way, Hermione. Or, at least, I assume you left him scrambling in the dust."
"I did. I was a total bitch, actually." Ron and Harry both noticed the flash of guilt before Hermione wished it away.
"He deserves it," Ron said.
"He does," Harry added. "There's nothing wrong with what you did. Well, okay, I mean it isn't very forgiving or anything and maybe we could try for some of that, but you don't have to treat him well if you don't want to that's for sure."
Then a thought dawned on Hermione. "You guys, he told me where he lived. He broke the Fidelius charm for me. He trusted me not to give away his location."
"No," Ron replied, "You know what he really did?"
Both Hermione and Harry shook their heads although Harry appeared to be very distracted again considering what Hermione had just said. There had been trust placed in her by their long time nemesis. All of a sudden nothing was making sense to Harry.
"He told you his location. And if what you told us is actually true, you know critical information that the death eaters will want to know and you're not in hiding, Hermione. They have a way to get information on Malfoy now."
"Shit," Harry whispered. "Hermione, you should come live with us. It'll be much safer. I'll come to your condo with you tonight and help you get the important stuff out. We have an extra bedroom."
"Oh Harry, I couldn't impose."
"You wouldn't be imposing," he said firmly.
"You have to," Ron said to Hermione. "Unless you want to get tortured."
"There's no need," Hermione replied. "If they asked me where he was, I would tell them. No torture necessary. It's not like I give a shit what happens to him."
"You could sentence someone to death?" Harry said.
Hermione thought on what Harry said. She knew he was right. She wouldn't tell them where Malfoy was. She simply didn't have that amount of indifference in her and there was still a voice in the back of her head constantly reminding her he'd saved her life. She was beginning to realize that while she might not owe Malfoy much, she did owe him his life.
"Living with you guys it is then," she sighed.
"Good."
"I should go thank him," Hermione murmured. She hadn't realized last night just how much he'd risked for her. Whether or not he was the biggest dick alive, she still should be grateful for what he did. She didn't need to sink to his level.
"Oh no, Hermione, don't," Ron moaned. "He really really doesn't deserve it."
"Yes he does," she snapped. "I'm sitting here with you guys because of him. Aren't you glad about that? I know I am."
"Of course we are," Harry replied, "But Ron's right and besides only five minutes ago you were sure you didn't even owe him his life. Why the sudden change?"
"I hadn't talked it out this in depth in my head. He not only risked his life to save mine but he's continuing to risk it just because I know the location. And he wasn't mean or cruel to me once. The least I could do is stop by for a couple of seconds and say thank you. That's it. I won't give him his company or anything."
"Hermione," Harry whispered, "It's one of the greatest things about you, but in this case it's also your weakness. You care too deeply about people and what matters to them. You'll go to thank him and then he'll ask you to stay with him and he'll put some pitiful expression on his face and you'll stay."
"You don't think I can say no?" Hermione shot back furiously. "To Malfoy?"
"No. I don't. You already did it once and tempting fate twice is never a good idea for you. I know for a fact you can't say no twice."
"Oh yes I can. That's it. It's official. I'm going to go apologize simply so I can prove you wrong."
"Well done, mate," Ron said to Harry and they both groaned.
"I'm going back to work. I'll see you later tonight, Harry. Meet me around eight, kay?"
"Whatever you want," Harry sighed. "Come on, Ron. And Hermione?"
She turned back to him.
"Mind if I tell Ginny what you told me? She'll want to know. She's writing an article on the attacks."
"Go ahead."
The trio split up and once Hermione could no longer see their faces, doubt crept into her mind. What if Harry was right? What was she getting herself into? The last thing she needed in her life right now was Malfoy. But nonetheless, she was going to go. There was no turning back now.
She got off of work at six and she flooed back to her condo. She prepared and ate some food and then sat on her couch staring at the wall wondering how long she could sit here and not go to Malfoy's. She didn't want to give herself enough time to have a lengthy conversation with Malfoy. She had to meet Harry back here at eight after all. But it wasn't long before her leg was shaking up and down and she kept staring at the clock on the wall until every time her eyes flicked over only thirty seconds had gone by. She'd had enough. It was only seven but her patience was waning. Hermione would have to get out of Malfoy's house all by herself and she was still confident she could do so.
Malfoy was perched on his couch reading a magazine on the latest developments being made in potions. It hadn't been his normal reading material only a year ago, in fact he hadn't ever read before, but being locked in your own house provided lots of opportunity for boredom. All he'd been doing recently was reading. Even some Muggle books. He was flipping a page when he heard his doorbell ring. There were only three people who knew where his house was. Pansy Parkinson, (only because he liked to enjoy the occasional sex with her. She wasn't particularly good company or good in bed but she was better than nothing. He'd made her angry last time, however, and she hadn't been around for a while.) Goyle, (who would fetch him food and anything else he might require. Malfoy was surprised what a good friend he was turning out to be) and Granger. Pansy never bothered knocking or ringing the doorbell she just came in and removed her clothes. Goyle would knock. Nobody ever rang the doorbell. It had to be Granger but it couldn't be. Last night, it became very clear to him that she was never going to come back here. He'd berated himself for hours for telling her where he lived while he was trying to sleep. He was basically as good as dead. He rose from the couch and went to go answer the door, hoping the Mudblood hadn't already given him away and a death eater wasn't standing at his door. Death eaters seemed more likely than Granger showing up whether or not the doorbell had rang. It did seem awfully polite of the death eaters though, he thought right before he opened the door.
When Hermione rang the doorbell she glanced back at the street behind her and had a sudden desire to bolt. Harry and Ron were right. Screw this. She didn't have to apologize to the snake. But she kept her feet planted to the ground because she had to prove Harry wrong no matter what happened.
What was she even going to say to him? "Thank you, I'm leaving now,"? This had been such a bad idea. Maybe he did deserve a thank you but this was the last thing on earth Hermione wanted to be doing. She stared at the door waiting for it to open, hoping it wouldn't, and decided that she could prove Harry wrong another day. She never said when she would say thank you. Hermione turned her back on the door and walked off but then she heard a the click of a door opening and a voice say, "Granger?" Shit. She couldn't run now. What would that say about her? It would just give Malfoy another thing to tease her about if they ever saw each other again. She closed her eyes gently and then faced him.
"Hi," she said, giving him a rather awkward wave.
"Why don't you come in?" he said glancing up and down the street. "There were death eaters here only a half hour ago. They're sure to be back soon."
Hermione nodded and scolded herself for not running when she had the chance. She'd forgotten about the death eaters. Suddenly there was a very small likely-hood she was going to prove Harry wrong. She wouldn't be able to leave if there were death eaters outside. Malfoy would never let her.
He led her into his sitting room and sat down on a couch. Hermione chose the chair farthest away from him and sunk into it. It was very plush and luxurious and Hermione couldn't help it as she trailed her fingers down the smooth leather, loving the cool friction against her hand.
"What are you doing here? Come to throw more insults my way?" he sneered.
She should've known he would be hostile. This was already not going well. Hermione peered down at her palms which she now held in her lap and began picking at her fingernails. Finally she murmured, "No. I came to say thank you...for saving my life."
She met eyes with Malfoy and she could see the poorly disguised shock at the words that had left her mouth. "That's not like you, Granger. Usually you're a condescending bitch."
"Right," Hermione said. She could feel the constant anger always boiling just below her skin when she was around Malfoy begin to boil over. "Well take it or leave it. I think I might as well leave now."
Malfoy stood, leaving her in the sitting room, and Hermione wasn't sure what she should do as he walked around the corner and disappeared. It seemed rude to leave the house without him even knowing but then again he had called her a condescending bitch. She rose from the chair and made her way to the door but a hand caught her forearm.
"You can't leave. Death eaters are outside. You're going to have to wait." He took her back into the sitting room and she returned to her chair and gazed firmly out the window, ignoring him to the best of her ability. She was such an idiot for coming here.
"Are you going to ignore me the entire time?"
Hermione didn't answer.
"It's not like I enjoy your company either, you know."
She'd had it. "What was last night then? Huh? What was with the begging and pleading for me to stay? What happened to being lonely? Or are we just pretending that didn't happen? I suppose you can if you want but I'm always going to remember the moment you thought you needed me and how awesome it was when I shot you down."
"Moment of weakness. I'd been drinking."
"So I'm the girl you'd drunk dial. Great. Just great. Listen, I don't care who the fuck finds you and what they do to you. I'm out of here. This was a bad idea." Hermione stood and walked as fast as she possibly could without running from the sitting room and towards the door. Why had she thought for even a moment that maybe Malfoy had become something better? His personality was too vindictive to change.
"Wait, Granger."
Hermione paused in her retreat and moved her head so her ear was facing him in case he had anything worthwhile to say. Something that might just keep her here and save his life. Hermione couldn't imagine what those words could even be but she was willing to give him a chance.
"Last night was a moment of weakness but that doesn't make it any less true. I am lonely. The last person I saw besides you was Pansy Parkinson three weeks ago when we had really really terrible sex," he groaned as he remembered that evening, "And now she's mad at me and won't come back."
"I can't imagine why," Hermione answered, "Maybe it's the fact that you're a horrible person."
He didn't say anything else. Hermione waited for a couple of seconds before asking, "Is that it? All you have to say?"
There was still nothing and then his voice, very quietly, echoed through her eardrums, "Thank you, Granger. Thank you for coming to talk to me. Thank you for being grudgingly grateful. And thank you for still being here."
"How long will the death eaters be outside?" she asked.
"Only another fifteen minutes or so. They check in for about a half hour every half hour."
Hermione sat back down and continued staring out the window. She honestly had been about to leave but curiosity brought her back. Harry had been right but for the wrong reason. She was so curious why he had decided to be honest with her and why all of a sudden he'd switched to niceties. Her logic told her it was simply to save his life but her heart told her there was something underneath that. A different motive and she had to know what it was.
She couldn't bring her eyes to meet his but she could tell that he was staring at her. Eventually she said, "Would you stop staring at me? It's weird."
"What else am I supposed to look at?"
"The walls."
"But I see those every day. You know if we made uncomfortable small talk it would still be better than this."
"I never said I was trying to make this fun."
"Okayyy..." he drew out, deciding that cracking her shell was too much work. Clearly she wasn't in a forgiving mood even though she'd come here to thank him.
Silence reigned for a couple of minutes. Unfortunately Malfoy was shit at this sort of thing.
"Were you hurt last night?"
"Couple bruises," clipped Hermione.
At least she was answering him.
"That dress looked good on you."
"Huh?" she said, her brown eyes finally meeting his.
"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Granger."
"That's not what I meant. I meant do you know what words are coming out of your mouth and would you like to take them back before I consider them as something you actually wanted to say?"
"I meant every word. Purple really works with your skin." He was grinning lightly and Hermione rolled her eyes. She was slightly impressed he even remembered what she had been wearing because she could not recall a single article of clothing he'd been wearing. It was probably black though.
"Don't patronize me, Malfoy."
"I was stating a fact. How is that patronizing?"
"Hmm...let me think. You mean to tell me that you're actually trying to compliment the appearance of a mudblood?
"Please," she sneered, laughing shortly.
"Yes."
"Well I suggest that if you want to compliment me you start by never saying the word mudblood ever again. Until then...I'm pretty sure I don't care."
"When was the last time I called you a mudblood?" he questioned.
Hermione was very conscious of the fact that he hadn't called her one for quite some time but that didn't matter a lick to her. She was still very confident that if the right situation arose he wouldn't hesitate to do so again and as long as that was the case... "Not long enough ago."
Malfoy grinned at that. "Do you always have to have the last word? It's infuriating."
"You seem to be enjoying yourself."
At that he burst into laughter and Hermione glared at him until he stopped. "Are the death eaters gone yet?" she asked.
"Eager to get out of here?"
"You have no idea."
"Well, you've still got five minutes."
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"Fuck you," Hermione replied. "Why were you so honest with me a couple minutes ago?"
"I wanted to keep you here. Lonely, remember? And, god, I'm so glad I did. I haven't had this much fun in ages."
"I'm glad I'm entertaining you. What's the other reason?"
"What?"
"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Malfoy."
"There is no other reason," he replied.
"I think there is and it isn't that you like being honest and open."
"Come back around and I'll tell you."
"So there is another reason?"
He shrugged. "Come back and I promise I'll tell you if there is."
"You are such a dick. That isn't even an answer."
"Technically I responded. The fact that it wasn't the answer you wanted isn't my problem," he shot back.
"Answers are supposed to directly respond to a question. They're purpose is not to connive some poor girl into keeping you company because you're desperate."
"And yet I'm betting you'll come back."
"Like hell I will. You think this has been fun?"
"Yes, actually, and yes you will. You think I don't know why you stayed? I've known you for years, Granger. Even if those years weren't spent as friends I still know who you are and what you're all about. You stayed because you couldn't stop yourself from being frustratingly interested in why I told you about me and Pansy and why I said your actual name last night and why I said thank you. And I'm telling you there might be an answer. Of course you're coming back."
"You son of a bitch."
"I believe you are free to go."
"Thank god." Hermione stormed off, leaving his house behind, hopefully for good. She was still fuming by the time she got back to her condo and saw she had ten minutes before Harry got there to help her move out. Why was she so angry? And then that same god awful voice that kept reminding her how lucky she was to be alive said, "Maybe it's because you know he's right." She shoved that voice down deep inside of her and waited for Harry.
A knock sounded on her door and she slowly trudged over, suddenly exhausted from the vocal duel her and Malfoy had just had. She showed Harry in and he put his arm around her shoulders and led her to a couch before bending down before her and capturing her eyes with his.
"You look more exhausted than you did this morning. Dare I ask? How was Malfoy? Did I win?"
"Go away, Potter, and pack up my things."
"Ahaha, I did win, didn't I?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"You're a little defensive."
"Yes, you win," Hermione conceded, tired of battling everyone. "I stayed, but not because I'm so kind and compassionate and generous and loving."
"Why did you stay?"
"He was being sort of nice again and I wanted to know why."
"Did he tell you?"
"No. Not really. Not at all actually. He said I could stop by again if I wanted to know why."
"When did he get smart?"
"You think I'm gonna go back?"
Harry didn't say a word, just started throwing clothes into a box.
"Ugh," Hermione groaned, throwing her head into a pillow and pretending Harry wasn't there.
"Did it at least go well?" Harry asked curiously after the silence was getting too long.
"I said thank you. He was mean. I was going to leave. He was sort of nice. And then we just poked each other's buttons. It was horrible. He's so fucking irritating."
"Well we knew that already. Care to help me pack your stuff?"
"Yeah, sorry," Hermione said and stood up from her couch. She started throwing everything she thought might be important into the box and the Harry cast the levitation spell and they were on their way out. Hermione glanced back at her condo, already missing it. She knew she'd be back when the death eaters were all rounded up but this was her home. She waved sadly and then Harry, who had sent her box on it's way to their house, gathered Hermione's hands in his and they apparated together.
