Inescapable by DMHP2014

~ Chapter 3 ~

Hermione climbed the Grand Staircase like the fiery depths of hell were licking at her heels, and didn't stop until she reached the 7th floor.

The main corridor was empty of people, living or dead, so she leaned against the nearest wall and tried to catch her breath.

She felt hurt, oppressed and above all, angry. She clung to angry. Anger was good, anger was what she needed right now.

Malfoy seemed to think that this whole thing was some big joke, and maybe it was to him. He'd had the gall to sit there and mock her like she was nothing more than an insignificant nobody that he'd randomly decided to shag, purely for his own amusement. But of course he did, he was Draco Malfoy. This wasn't anything new to her. He had always been like this - an insolent sod who thought that the sun shone out of his arse. Yet, did he really have to mock her in such a disparaging way after what had happened between them? Didn't he have even a scrap of decency left?

Clearly not.

Hermione had barely thought about him over the last few weeks. She was very good at compartmentalizing the things she didn't want to deal with. Draco Malfoy being at the very top of the list of things she'd prefer not to look too closely at.

The day after the... unfortunate incident - it was best to call it what it was - hadn't been particularly great. She'd gotten no sleep the night before due to endless amounts of fretting about whether he would tell someone or not. In hindsight, it was silly, really, because he'd seemed rather adamant that he didn't want anyone to know about what had happened. At the time though, she'd thought he had only meant her friends, and had convinced herself that he was going to tell all of his cronies.

All the next morning, whilst showering and getting dressed, she had worked herself up into a tizzy, imagining Malfoy's housemates staring at her knowingly and laughing. Thankfully, that didn't end up happening. In fact, no one in Slytherin so much as glanced in her direction, except Malfoy, of course. So after she had given the blond-git his wand back, and subsequently scared him out of his wits with thoughts of contamination, she'd decided to put the whole horrid thing behind her and just pretend like it'd never happened.

Sure, it wasn't the best-thought-out plan. Bottling these kinds of things up always came back to bite you in the arse, but it had been working. Until today, that is.

Why did he have to come into the bloody library? Or better yet, why didn't she just get up from the table and leave the spoilt brat to his own devises?

Perhaps because that would have been bowing to defeat and letting him get one over on her, again, and she simply couldn't bear to let that happen.

Hermione had managed to mostly ignore his taunts, even fired off a few of her own when the opportunity presented itself. She couldn't let him see that she was overly bothered by the things he was saying. Hell no. That would have been detrimental to her health. He would have struck like a poisonous viper and gone straight for the jugular.

She'd stood her own and done alright, considering. That is to say, she had, right up until the last few minutes when it had all gone to complete and utter shit.

Hermione cringed as she thought back to the way she had exploded on him and stormed out of the library. God, she must have sounded so jealous, which she absolutely wasn't. Not at all. She just thought it was tasteless of him to sleep with someone else only a week after they had slept together. The fact that it was Parkinson didn't help the matter either.

Bastard.

Imagines of him and Pansy Parkinson flashed through her mind, and she gritted her teeth together, hard, and thumped her head against the wall in frustration.

God, she was so confused. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. Her emotions were all over the goddamn place.

This was not how she'd expected her first time to go and she most certainly had never thought it would be with someone like Draco Malfoy, never mind the actual Draco Malfoy. It's not like she had thought about her first time all that much, in fact, if she were being honest, she had hardly ever thought about it. She had just assumed that it'd be with someone who she liked and whom liked her back. Didn't everyone assume that in regards to their first time?

At least she didn't love him, that was a plus. It could have been so much worse. The fact that she disliked him was a good thing. She would get over this easily.

So what? She'd slept with an arsehole, big deal. She wasn't the first girl in history and she certainly wouldn't be the last. She didn't really care that it had been her first time. That didn't really bother her, she'd never had grand notions of the "perfect" first time with the "perfect" person, so it was irrelevant to her situation.

Hermione just wished that he would have had a bit of tact and reined in the ridicule, at least for a little while. It was almost sickening how insensitive he was.

Why couldn't he have just stayed away? Blessedly, he'd kept a distance from her for the last few weeks but then suddenly, out of nowhere, had decided to come and bothered her today. On a Sunday. The day of rest and relaxation. It was like he got off on making her life miserable or something.

Hemione pushed away from the wall and started towards the Gryffindor Tower, she wouldn't think on this anyone. He wasn't worth it. He didn't deserve this kind of attention, even if it was only in her head. He was a prick, plain and simple.

... If only it were that simple.

The next morning Hermione headed down to breakfast. She'd had an interesting night's sleep. She'd been plagued with dreams of Malfoy, specifically of that night. She woke up at 5.00 am, dripping with sweat, body tingling with echoes of pleasure. It scared her how real the dream had seemed. It was like she was there again, in that classroom.

Hermione shook her head and attempted to rid herself of the memory, and found Harry and Ron huddled together at the Gryffindor table, deep in conversation.

"Morning," she said, announcing her arrival.

"Morning," they chorused.

"What are you two talking about?" she asked, slipping into the seat opposite them.

"Malfoy," Harry answered, turning to look at her.

Instead of gently gripping the handle on the jug of pumpkin juice, Hermione punched it across the table, dousing several 2nd years in the process. "Oh, God!" she shrieked. "I'm so sorry. Here, let me," she pointed her wand at them, and in a matter of seconds they were clean, dry, and sticky-free. "Sorry," she offered again as they sat staring at her in shock. She turned back to Harry and Ron.

"Are you OK, 'Mione?" Ron asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting at her.

"Yes, of course I'm alright," she answered edgily. "Why would you ask?"

"Well," Ron began mildly. "You just nearly drowned a couple of 2nd years in pumpkin juice," he gazed at her like that was more than a sufficient reason to ask.

Hermione glanced at the 2nd years again. They were still staring at her. "They're fine," she said, waving him off. "Now, what were you saying, Harry?"

Was it just her or was Harry looking at her funnily? Shit, this was not the time to get paranoid and freak out. She schooled her features as best she could and reached for a piece of buttered toast.

"We were just talking about Malfoy," Harry said, leaning in closer so that they wouldn't be overheard.

"Oh? What about him?" Hermione asked casually.

Her eyes flicked over to the Slytherin table, instantly catching the man in question staring at her. She cleared her throat, scowled at him, and then looked away.

"I was just saying how he hasn't been doing anything suspicious lately, it's weird," Harry narrowed his eyes as if in deep thought. "I've been watching the map, and he hasn't so much as set foot near the Room of Requirement," he looked up at Hermione expectantly.

She raised her brows at him. Why the hell was he looking at her like that? Like she knew something he didn't. "What?" she asked a little defensively.

"Well, don't you think that's weird?" he asked, sounding thoroughly exasperated.

"Oh, yeah. Weird," Hermione readily agreed.

She released a slow and steady breath. 'Settle down, Hermione, he doesn't know anything. How could he? He would have said something to you by now. It happened two weeks ago! But what if he's been waiting for you to say something? Maybe confess? No, that's ludicrous. Waiting is something Harry's terrible at.'

"He was going there every day -" Harry continued, totally unaware of Hermione's internal monologue, "- pretty much spending all of his spare time in that room full of junk, and now... nothing," he held his hands out to encompass the load of nothingness. "He's not been back to that room in two weeks or so, not since that night you were following him under the cloak."

Hermione promptly choked on a piece of toast. Good grief, but Harry was – unwittingly - getting too close for comfort.

"Are you sure you didn't see anything strange that night?" Harry asked, ignoring her spluttering as she tried to dislodge the piece of toast from her trachea. "Did you see him do anything untoward or questionable?"

Lord, yes, she'd seen him do numerous untoward and questionable things. Things that she had been fully involved in, and most definitely a part of.

"No," Hermione said slowly, like she was thinking long and hard about it. "No, I didn't see anything." Liar, liar, pants on fire. God, she felt like shit, she was a horrible person and a terrible friend. "Like I said, he left the Room of Requirement and went straight down to the dungeons."

It literally killed her that she was lying for Draco Malfoy of all people, but it wasn't like she could tell the truth. She would be throwing herself under the bus, too. Also, Harry and Ron would probably die of shock if they knew what really happened, and she really didn't want that. She quite liked having them around.

Harry sighed explosively. "I wonder why he's suddenly stopped going, then? He's acting differently, too. Have you noticed? He's started hanging out with his friends again, and he's always here at meal times -" he glanced over his shoulder at the Slytherine table, his eyes seeking out Malfoy. "See," he said, once he'd located him. "There he is. Before two weeks ago, he hadn't so much as stepped foot in the Great Hall. I still think he's up to something, maybe he caught on that we were following him. We all need to stay alert and keep a close eye on him."

Hermione had to fight down the urge to roll her eyes. Couldn't he drop this Malfoy obsession already?

Harry turned and stared at her intently. It was creepy when he did this. It was like he was looking into her soul and sifting through her deepest, darkest secrets. He would make a fantastic Auror one day. "What did he say to you yesterday?"

Hermione almost swallowed her tongue. "What?" she asked, heart thudding wildly in her chest.

"Yesterday, in the library?" Harry prompted, frowning at her slightly. "I was browsing the map, and I saw him sit down at your table."

'Browsing the map, my arse!' She thought spitefully. What he really meant was that he was stalking Draco Malfoy's every move.

"Oh, yes. The library," Hermione chuckled as if just remembering. "It was nothing, he was just being, well, Malfoy," she said, waving her hand dismissively, like that explained everything.

"He was sat there for a while," Harry continued, clearly not ready to drop it. "What did he say to you? I was about to come and find you, but then you left."

Ron, who had been engrossed in devouring his breakfast, looked up to stare at her. "Was he harassing you?" he asked angrily, mouth full of sausage. "'Cause if he was, I'll kill him."

Hermione couldn't help but smile a little at that. "No more than usual, I assure you," she patted Ron's hand affectionately. "Actually," she paused, desperately trying to think of an excuse as to why he was sat with her for so long. "Professor Babbling assigned us to work together on a project for Ancient Runes," she sighed, looking thoroughly put-out by the prospect. "I wasn't going to say anything to either of you because I'm actually going to see if I can switch partners."

Harry and Ron both instantly relaxed at hearing this, and began offering their sincere commiserations.

"That sucks," Ron shook his head like it was the single most heinous thing in the entire world that could ever happen to someone.

"Yep," Hermione agreed, feeling guilty for lying - again.

"Do you think you'll be able to change partners?" Ron asked.

She shrugged vaguely. "I'm sure it'll be no problem."

"No," Harry said suddenly, eyes lighting up. "You should stay partnered with him."

"What?" Hissed Hermione and Ron at the same time.

Oh no.

"Yes," Harry, enthused. "This is actually a blessing in disguise."

"Merlin, Harry," Ron uttered, aghast. "Nothing is a blessing where that pointy git's concerned."

"No, I know that," Harry flapped his hands impatiently. "What I mean is, if Hermione stayed partnered with him, she could keep a close eye on the prat and try to siphon bits of information from him. He's bound to slip up at some point. You could do that, couldn't you, Hermione?" he asked excitedly.

Shit.

"Um," Hermione said, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm not sure how often we'll actually be required to work together outside of class," she answered, fumbling her words.

Harry gave her a look like she was mad. "But it's a partnered project, of course you'll have to study together outside of class."

"Oh, well, yes. I guess you're right."

Shit, shit, shit. This was backfiring exponentially. This is why you should never lie.

"This is great," Harry clapped his hands together.

"Yes, brilliant," Hermione forced a smile.

Ron didn't look happy about it at all.

"The number one thing you must get proof of, Hermione, is that he's a Death Eater," Harry insisted. "It's really important. Try to get a proper look at his mark if you can -"

"Harry," she cut him off, sounding tired. "How many times have we been over this? Malfoy is not a Death Eater. He's an arsehole, certainly. Up to something, possibly, but I very much doubt it's anything nefarious."

"How can you even say that?" Harry protested, glaring at her. "And what the hell makes you so sure?"

"What makes you so sure?" she fired back, irritated.

This was getting ridiculous.

"He is a Death Eater, Hermione. I know it. I can't explain how I know, but I just do."

Perfect, so they were all just supposed to hinge everything on Harry's "instincts".

Hermione looked at Ron for some help, but he just quickly looked away and carried on eating. Git.

"He's planning something for the dark side. I can feel it," Harry urged, looking a little crazy.

"What on earth do you think he's planning?" Hermione asked, thoroughly exasperated.

"Well, I don't know yet, do I? That's what we need to find out," he told her. "But first we need to confirm that he's a Death Eater."

Hermione let out a long suffering groan.

Harry angrily gritted his teeth together, and she watched as a muscle jumped in his jaw. He looked mad. "Look," he started, sounding surprisingly calm. "All I'm asking is that you try and look for a Dark Mark. If he hasn't got one, then fine. But if he has, then we need to stop him before he does something terrible -"

"How, pray tell, do you suppose I do that? Should I ask him to strip for me?" she asked, incensed, and then blushed, realizing what she'd said.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.

"Oh, never mind!" she shook her head. She didn't have the energy to argue with him any further. "Fine, I'll see what I can do," she acquiesced.

She could tell that he was pissed off with her, and she felt bad about it, but she was really sick of hearing the whole 'Malfoy is a Death Eater' thing. It was getting out of hand, and Harry was becoming worryingly obsessive. It wasn't good for him, and she didn't want to encourage this kind of behavior.

But what if Malfoy was a Death Eater? A little a voice inside her mind whispered. You fucked him. If Harry found out, he would never forgive you.

Hermione swallowed thickly and pushed her half-eaten toast away from her. She glanced at the Slytherin table again and watched Malfoy laughing heartily at something someone had said. He glanced up, as if sensing her staring at him, and their eyes met.

God, how was she going to tell him that they had to pretend to be study partners? Would he even go along with it? Or would he tell her to fuck off?

There was only one way to find out.

"Psst, Malfoy?" Hermione called quietly.

Malfoy turned, glancing around the empty corridor with a deep frown.

"In here," she hissed, rolling her eyes. Couldn't he see her waving her hand up and down like a loon?

Malfoy spotted an arm flapping around through a small gap in the door just off to the right of where he stood. "Granger?" he said uncertainly. "Is that you?

"Yes," she groaned, failing to hide her impatience. "Will you hurry up and come here."

Malfoy's eyebrows briefly lifted in surprise. He glanced up and down the corridor, surreptitiously, and then headed over to her.

When he was close enough, Hermione grabbed a fistful of his jumper and yanked him inside, slamming and locking the door behind them.

"Excuse me, do you mind?" Malfoy asked, irritation clear in his tone. "What do you want?" he demanded, smoothing his hands down the front of his jumper.

Hermione began to pace in front of him, wringing her hands fretfully. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. It was probably because she already knew that Malfoy was going to be a difficult sod about it all.

Malfoy's silver eyes tracked her nervous movements, judging her harshly. "You better have a good reason for dragging me into this filthy hole, what even is this place?" he wrinkled his nose and gazed around.

"It's a room that Filch uses to keep cleaning supplies in," she answered distractedly.

Malfoy's entire face scrunched up in disgust. "Why, may I ask, have you brought me in here? You don't have some weird sexual cleaning fetish do you?"

"Ew, no. What is it with you thinking I have weird kinks and fetishes?" she asked, shaking her head in revulsion.

"You just seem the type," he shrugged, looking bored now. "Come now, Granger, why am I here?"

Hermione scowled at him. "If you bloody shut up a minute, I will tell you!"

He sneered at her but didn't say anything more.

God, she didn't know how to begin. "I've got some bad news..." she said, trailing off as she deliberated on how to continue. She needed to do it in a way in which his lordship would be cooperative.

"Oh god," Malfoy suddenly muttered, turning a sickly grey colour. "NO. Don't say it," he warned, leaning against the wall for support.

Hermione looked up and frowned at him, thoroughly confused. "Don't say what?"

"Oh shit!" Malfoy gripped his hair and stared at her in shock. "You're pregnant, aren't you? Oh god. Kill me now, just do it. Come on, right now. Kill me. Quickly!"

Hermione scoffed. "What? No! Don't be absurd," she exclaimed.

Malfoy gazed at her, face panic-stricken. "No? No, as in you're not pregnant? Are you sure?" he asked on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"Of course I'm bloody sure! That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

Malfoy visibly relaxed, groaning deeply in utter relief. "Oh, thank God!" he enthused. "Fucking hell, Granger, maybe fucking lead with that next time," he said, glaring at her.

"Lead with it?" she asked, perplexed. "It was never even an issue, so why would I? I'm not an idiot. I've been taking the pill for over a year now, plus I track my cycles and I wasn't anywhere near ovulation so... oh never mind."

It was pointless. He probably had no idea what she was taking about.

"The pill?" he exclaimed, focusing on that and choosing to ignore everything else she'd said. "What on earth is that?! And don't say it's some muggle concoction because I will strangle you. Besides, how was I supposed to know that it was never an issue?" he yelled at her. "You drag me in here, pacing up and down like a lunatic, and then tell me you've got some bad news! What the hell am I supposed to think?"

When he put it like that...

"What you should have said is, 'I'm not pregnant, but I have some other bad news'," Malfoy continued, waving his hands at her angrily. "That would have been nice, considerate even, and could have saved me from a near aneurysm!"

"OK, OK, I get it," Hermione said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I apologize. Now, calm down for God's sake."

"Is there any point in me calming down? God knows what the bad news really is," he shot back. "Come on, out with it," he snapped testily.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry's on to us," she said, not beating around the bush this time. "Or at least he's on to you. Maybe me too? It's hard to tell. He's looking at me all funny and keeps bringing up that night that we... Oh, I don't know what's going through that mind of his but he's getting too close for comfort," she rambled unintelligibly, flapping her hands around in an anxious manner. "But anyway, I've told him that we are partners on a project in Ancient Runes, so now we have to pretend to study together for a couple of nights a week, and -"

"Wait, what?" Malfoy said, cutting her off, looking thoroughly confused. "Granger, I have no idea what the bloody hell you've just said. For fucks sake, start from the beginning and, if it's not asking too much, try to make some semblance of sense."

Hermione nodded and then proceeded to tell him everything that had been said at breakfast that morning, except for the part where Harry thought Malfoy was a Death Eater. And the part where Harry asked her to keep an eye on Malfoy and attempt to siphon incriminating information from him.

Once she'd finished, Malfoy let out a disgusted puff of air. "So he has a map? That's how he seems to just show up everywhere and always appears to know precisely where I am."

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to tell Malfoy about the map, but it was too late now.

"That specky little bastard," he gritted.

"Hey! Don't call him that," Hermione growled, incensed.

Malfoy ignored her. "What, exactly, does he think I'm up to?" he asked curiously, not really expecting her to answer.

She shrugged. "He doesn't know. He just knows that you're up to something."

Hermione watched him process this bit of information, he looked relieved, and it gave her pause. Perhaps Harry was onto something after all. She wanted to ask him what it was that he was up to, but she knew that he'd just get all defensive and probably leave, so she refrained from saying anything. For now.

"Why didn't you just say I was asking you about an essay or something?" he asked. "You didn't have to tell him we were working on a project together."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I was put on the spot, it was the first thing that came to my mind. Why don't you try being interrogated by Harry. It's frightening," she shuddered. Malfoy did have a point though, him questioning her on an essay would have been a lot easier to roll with. Alas, it didn't matter now.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever, can't you just say that the project's completed now?" he looked at her, his tone low and skeptical. "Why carry on the charade?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. From Malfoy's point of view, that obviously seemed like the next logical step to take, except Harry now wanted her to spy on him, so she couldn't just say the project was over. Harry would get even more suspicious than he already was. But she couldn't say all this to Malfoy because he didn't know about the spying part.

God, what a tangled web of lies she had gotten herself caught up in.

"I can't," she said simply and prayed - to every deity she could think of - that he'd just drop it.

Did pigs fly? Maybe, they lived in a world full of magic, but in the muggle world they most certainly did not.

"Why?" Malfoy frowned. Hermione let out a long suffering sigh and began grasping at straws in her mind. Why indeed? "Oh wait, I get it," he said slowly, knowingly, before she could come up with a plausible lie.

"You do?" she asked, looking at him warily.

"You're just making all this up because you want me to shag you again."

What?! Good lord. "No. No!" she yelled and stomped her feet in frustration.

"What makes you think I would shag you again, Granger?" he asked, disregarding her little hissy fit.

"That's not what I -"

"I mean, I understand you trying and all, why wouldn't you? -"

Hermione scoffed. "You are unbelievable -"

"- it's only natural -"

"- I've never met someone so -"

"- I'm sure you've been obsessively fantasizing about that night for the last few weeks -"

"Please, as if! You are -"

"- and I bet you've flicked the bean more than once," he bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to laugh.

"How dare you," she gasped, blushing profusely.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, it's fine. I get it. It makes sense that you'd want me to fuck you again, and let me tell you, Granger, it's so much better the second time round," he smirked at the look on her face.

"I hate your guts," she told him, scowling.

Jesus Christ.

"So let me get this straight," he held his hand up to silence her, and she glared at him. "Your idea is to put studying up as a front so that when Potter, the nosy git, looks on his map and sees us together, he won't think anything of it?"

Hermione gaped at him. How on earth had he gotten to that conclusion? Surely his giant head had something to do with it. What a conceited, narcissistic pig.

"That's very clever, Granger," he praised, looking mildly impressed. "Perhaps you're smarter than I thought."

She stared at him. For once in her life she had absolutely no idea what to say.

Malfoy looked her up and down appraisingly. "Fine," he said after several moments.

Hermione blinked at him. "Fine, what?" she asked, mystified.

"Fine, I'll shag you," Malfoy said, like it should have been obvious.

Her mouth dropped open.

"Unless you've changed your mind, of course? In which case, you can just tell Potter that the project is over and things can go back to the way they were," he smiled at her serenely. "So, what will it be, Granger?"

Hermione's mind went straight to Harry. What choice did she have?

Fuck.

AN: Thank you Black_Osmosis for beta reading this chapter. You rock :D.