Chapter Three
Not A Follower
Hermione didn't recall ever having the worst sleep as she did that night. It took her three hours to doze off, and even then she would wake up every five minutes. She would toss, and turn, and when she woke the next morning she found her covers in a heap beside her bed. At least that morning she woke up early enough not to have to rush breakfast.
Harry, and Ron met her down in the common room, and together they walked down to the Great Hall. She filled her plate with pancakes, and toast, and poured the pitcher of pumpkin juice in her golden goblet. Not once in her meal did she look over to the Slytherin table. She wasn't going to give Malfoy the satisfaction in suspecting that he bothered her, because he didn't, not in the bit. She pulled out a thick book from her book bag opening it to a random page next to her plate.
Hermione was very proud of her friends. They didn't mention Malfoy once. Though she was sure that they were discussing his demise between themselves, but that was perfectly okay by her. She didn't want to talk about him, because if the subject came up, she might also feel guilty long enough to tell them what happened out in the lake, and she wasn't ready for that. She might never tell them. One thing was sure to her though, Malfoy would be getting desperate to have her killed for saving his life. By doing a good deed she probably shortened her life span from a good week to... That day.
After breakfast she headed straight to the library. Harry, and Ron stood to follow her, but she insisted that she go along, and they graciously let her go. She knew better, she knew that they would be spying on her. She smiled to herself as she climbed the last of the stairs. They were wasting their times, Malfoy wouldn't attack her in the library.
She went to her usual table in the far corner away from the few older students delving themselves into mile high books. It wasn't like they were a bother, but she liked peace when she read, and she rarely got such in the common room, or any other place for that matter, not even in her bed thanks to Lavender, and the others barging in at random times even if she had gotten used to blocking out the world around her. She deserved some quiet.
Hermione pulled out six books from her bag, and sat them on the table. She picked up the first one, and began to lose herself in it. She was so lost in fact that she didn't hear a person approach her. As a shadow cascaded over her she snapped her head up to see Malfoy standing over her menacingly.
"What
do you want, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sat himself across from her.
"To tell you that you're the filthiest, ugliest mudblood I've
ever laid eyes on."
She laughed, and this took him off guard, he looked at her as if she had spoiled the ending to a good movie. "Right, is this supposed to be new? You've told me this a million times."
He brought himself out of his trance to sneer his usual sneer at her. "Look, Granger, I don't appreciate being saved by someone like you."
"I'm sure you don't."
He sighed, and Hermione glimpsed up to see the guards he kept up fall. It was only a second that she saw his vulnerability, and the walls were back up, and she turned her attention to her book. She was reading, but she wasn't comprehending any of the words. She was too aware of him being there, of him looking at her with those cold eyes of his.
He whispered so low that she wondered if he had spoken. "I'm supposed to kill you."
Painfully, she grinned. "I know..."
His
expression fell. "What? How do you know?"
"I
overheard."
"Why you little -"
"Watch it, Malfoy! I could easily take another fifty points away from your house for harassing me. Don't push your luck."
Out of nowhere he smiled wide. He pushed himself back in his chairs balancing himself on the chairs last two legs. "You like me, don't you?"
Her face reddened with anger, and surprise. "I most certainly do not!"
"But you were spying on me -"
"I was going down to breakfast, and I accidentally heard you. It's not like you can keep that big mouth of yours shut."
His face darkened. "Breakfast had already started..." It was an accusation, that she had some inside sources. Yeah, right.
"I was late," she said simply.
"You're never late..."
"Do you like me?"
"No! I would never like a -"
"Careful there! I was just asking because there's not a lot of enemies out there that would pay so close attention to someone's habits."
He looked over his shoulder at Ms. Pince that glared in their direction, with only a hint of curiosity at the two unlikely pair. He whispered, "only the enemies seeking revenge."
She nodded. She wasn't going to admit out loud that he was right. "But enemies don't normally tell theirs that they're going to kill them, do they?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Good one, Granger."
"Then why did you tell me?"
"A challenge. The whole hunter, and prey thing."
"The truth, Malfoy."
He leaned forward, his arms on the table. She felt that he was too close to her face, but something wouldn't allow her to say anything. She wanted to see where this was going.
"I can't kill you." Then he said hurriedly, "it's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I would love to rid the world of a sad excuse for a witch, but you had to save my life, didn't you? I have a fucking life debt to you now... I wanted to let you know that because you saved my life, we are both going to lose ours"
Hermione smiled sadly. "I would never hold you to something so beneath you."
"What's
that supposed to mean?"
"You have no morals," she
explained as if it were a simple case of one plus one.
Malfoy looked honestly offended. "I have morals, Granger. I was raised right!"
"That's why you're wanting to become a murderer."
He was stunned into silence. Hermione had had enough of circling the conversation of her death. She dumped her books into her bag, and swung it over her shoulder. He still didn't speak too interested in a burnt hole in the table. She left without him noticing.
Hermione was halfway down the hall on her way to her common room. Reading in the presence of Harry, and Ron didn't seem too bad then. Apparently they didn't follow her, if they did they would have caught up with her by now.
Suddenly she was stopped when a hand landed roughly on her shoulder. Spinning on her heel she saw that it was Malfoy. The look on his face was indescribable. She wasn't sure if it was anger, sadness, regret, or remorse.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I know you don't want to die, Granger. I don't want to either." He sighed heavily, and then realized he was still holding her shoulder. He snatched his hand back. "We only have one choice now..."
"What would that be?"
"We work together," he grimaced as it was his worst nightmare, "and we get out of this mess."
Hermione held back the smirk that was threatening to cross her lips. "Okay... In that case we only have one other choice."
"Is
that right?"
"We go to Dumbledore, and you turn
yourself in."
"No way! Not going to happen!"
"Then I guess we're both dead, aren't we?" Hermione spun her back towards him, and continued to walk down the hall, leaving Malfoy stunned again. She was beginning to be quite good at that lately.
"Alright," he called through the empty hall. "We'll go to Dumbledore..."
She stopped, and let herself smile before she turned to face him. "And why the sudden change of heart?"
"I was never meant to be a follower, Granger. Not even to the most feared wizard of all time. I much rather enjoy being the leader. We'll go to Dumbledore's office tonight. Think you can manage breaking the rules; sneaking through the castle, or are you too afraid that your perfect record will be tainted."
Hermione almost laughed. How many times had she wandered out of her common room without authorization. More times than Malfoy would ever guess. "Sure, I think I can do that, but what sense would it make when we can go right now?"
Malfoy marched up to her pulling on his right sleeve. He held his arm out in front of her for her to see. The dark mark, a skull, with a snake slithering through the mouth was branded on his skin. The brand of a deatheater. "I would never go to Dumbledore's office for any other reason. D'you think my mates will understand my disloyalty - I didn't think so!" He walked away from her, and yelled over his shoulder, "Twelve o'clock, Granger. If you're late I might have to kill you."
