Thursday, September 26, 1996
This new early curfew was really limiting Hermione's investigation (if it even is one, that's still up for debate), not to mention the new nightly check-ins. As a prefect, she was now required to sit and take roll of every Gryffindor every Monday night, a task she didn't look forward to starting. That was on top of her regular patrols as well, which were supposedly being increased soon.
Overall, this was taking away a lot of valuable time she could be using to mine information from the person who was currently her best source, Draco.
This itself, was also an issue. After Hermione discovered that Draco's knowledge on Blaise is nearly as limited as her own, she realized she would need to dig elsewhere if she ever wanted to learn anything.
Also.. the new curfew meant she had to work a lot harder to see Draco at all, no matter the reason. She was spoiled, she knew. But that doesn't mean she wasn't selfish enough to still want him. Let's be realistic here. Hermione had yet to experience anything better than his hands on her, taking her apart piece by piece, and the thought of ever giving it up was just not okay.
That doesn't include the real fact that a student had gone missing at Hogwarts.
Hermione hadn't been suffering under the delusion that Hogwarts was safe, by any means, but this was a new level. She couldn't even blame it on some prejudiced chamber monster. Although, in second year she at least had something to blame for the disappearances, this time she had to work backwards entirely upon her own guesses. She could only hope her imagination was worse than reality.
So, all in all, Hermione wasn't pleased with the outcome of having her suspicions about Blaise vindicated.
She was sitting in the library at her long ago claimed table when the letter appeared in front of her. Without opening it, she recognized the sender immediately. The Ministry's system of interdepartmental memos was ingenious, and Hermione had gone out of her way to perfect the spell for her own personal use. In effort to limit the chances of them being caught speaking in the hallways about their scandalous affair, Hermione made sure to teach Draco at her first chance.
Her fingers darted out to snatch the small airplane, holding it tightly in cold hands. Hermione was conscious to not look around the library and draw attention to herself, even though she knew no one besides her and Draco had any idea in the world what the letter would contain.
Friday outside the Room of Requirement, 9:15
Letters drawled across the parchment, written smoothly with a lazy hand. The scrawl was familiar, and it seemed ridiculous to see how similar it was to the way he spoke. Her mind summoned memories of his drawn out voice, smooth as honey. Each word passed by his lips slowly, but clearly defined from- no!
That was not at all important, Hermione reminded herself.
What was important however, was that curfew was at eight o'clock every night. 9:15 seemed late enough that prefects would be done checking people in, and would give her plenty of time to pretend she'd gone to bed before casting a disillusionment charm and sneaking out. However, she wasn't looking to tiptoe out of the common room to be caught toddling around the seventh floor just when Snape or someone was making rounds.
The thought of being found with Draco at the well known Lovers Lane of Hogwarts was just mortifying.
Hermione picked up the pen again, and thought carefully on what to write in response. He definitely wasn't anticipating an answer, but that wasn't important. The heat tickling her cheeks reminded her that the last thing she wanted to do was say no to a meeting, but in her mind she knew being caught out late with Draco would be impossible to explain to Harry. And for that matter, to Ron either.
That wasn't including the other students that might be milling about by the Room at that time, given it's reputation. Her and Draco couldn't be the only ones in the castle looking for some time alone. Any randy fourth year couple could walk up to see them, and only Godric knew how quickly that piece of gossip would spread. She could only imagine the next headline of the HFP.
Too many patrolling, and I'm not excited about detention.
The folded parchment sailed toward the library's exit, her neat handwriting placed directly below his own. Getting her eyes to focus on the work in front of her after that was difficult, as the Transfiguration notes she'd been previously revising were suddenly the most boring thing she'd ever read. It had been a while since her and Draco had been able to meet, and all she wanted to do was just release all of the tension she held.
When the parchment sailed back in front of her, she could have sworn an hour had passed already. A whole hour wasted, she pestered herself. That however was stopped when her eyes flicked over to the clock hanging not far away on the library wall, which clearly showed that only eight and a half minutes had passed since she'd sent the note.
9:15
Hermione felt one of her lips curl up just slightly in annoyance, and she just knew the condescending look that was on his face when he'd wrote the response. Fingers twitching at her quill to carve out a few lines on the etiquette of writing and event planning, she debated whether Draco would even read the scolding. It was unlikely he would.
She didn't want to let it go, of course. Letting him get away with being so blasted smug was going to drive her up a bloody wall, she was sure. But in this case, she knew Draco wanted to be caught as little as she did, and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Waving her wand, she quickly vanished the parchment.
Friday, September 27, 1996
The Hogwarts Free Press had yet to give up, and Hermione was somewhat surprised.
On the other hand though, when she glanced around the Great Hall at delivery time, she could tell they had quite the subscription base. Nearly every other face in the Hall was tucked into a copy, greedy hands prying the pages apart. A few copies even had a second face shoved in front, trying to catch a peak of their neighbour's newspaper.
Rubbish or not (and it was rubbish, Hermione knew that needed no discussion), the authors had apparently figured out exactly how to quench the school's undying thirst for gossip. Now students can read about each other's affairs entirely at their own convenience! It was novel, really.
Hermione gave a bored glance at the HFP copy in Ron's hand, freshly pilfered from some unlucky second year.
Disappearance of Prominent Slytherin Shocks School, read the bolded headline. Below was an image of Blaise, giving a cocky smirk and then dropping it into a cold mask over and over again.
"They're writing that like the whole school wasn't gathered here in the Great Hall for Dumbledore's announcement." Harry commented, giving his own glance to the paper in Dean's hand a few seats away.
"Maybe they've added a touching and insightful piece on the effect of all these attacks on the student mind," Hermione responded, barely holding in a laugh.
Harry snorted, "Likely."
"It's just repeating what's already been said," Ron added, laying the paper on the table. Hermione reached for it, purely for curiosity's sake.
Harry passed a long look around the room, "Might as well have just printed his speech word for word, let people make their own comments."
Hermione had the paper clenched in one hand as it half-laid over her plate. "I'll never argue against journalistic commentary; if people have something worthy of saying it should be said." She picked up the paper fully then, looking flat at Blaise's cover shot. "But I will say, this is a welcome change from their previous reports." Her voice was terse, and the boys knew she was referencing her own front page appearance the week before.
"Missing classmate is a welcome change?" Harry's voice lilted, teasing her.
"As long as it's a Slytherin, yeah." Ron laughed, a half chewed piece of toast in his open mouth.
Hermione gave Harry a scolding look, softened by the light smile she was showing. "You know what I mean, Harry. You also know just as well as I do, it's never fun to see your name in print."
"Bullocks, I bet it'd be a great time to see your face holding the quidditch cup on the front page, or shaking the minister's hand." Ron laughed.
Hermione had returned to scanning the Free Press, but she vaguely heard Harry's response. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she'd had hoped the HFP would have some worthy gossip on Blaise's disappearance.
Any hope that was there though, was squashed by the words printed before her. There was one line of the breakfast incident, which didn't even mention Theo's name. Other than that, nothing! Hermione believed in the right to journalistic integrity, but this was just total rubbish! If she couldn't count on gossip from the new rag of Hogwarts, what could anyone count on?
Overall, Blaise's disappearance seemed to come out of nowhere. Hermione read the line twice, then a third time. As disappointing as that was, Hermione received a salacious surprise in the next paragraph.
A close friend of Blaise's in Slytherin House, Pansy Parkinson, made time to speak with the Hogwarts Free Press about the issue. The loss of Blaise is "shocking" and "scary," Pansy recalled. "No one noticed anything weird about him before. I can only hope Hogwarts is still safe for us other students."
Well that was, odd, Hermione thought. Pansy lied in her quote, that was no question. But why? Everyone at breakfast last week noticed the scuffle, even if they hadn't been on guard from his break down the night before. Moreover, Hermione had watched Pansy pretend nothing was happening that morning.
Hermione smelled a cover up.
Friday, September 27, 1996
Draco's touch was everywhere. His fingers were like fire on her body, his chest like the ocean holding her down, his mouth was sin wherever it could reach. The sound of his groan was just erotic, the vibration melting into her body.
Hermione's brain was barely able to function, repeating the mantra of his name on a loop. Without even speaking, he had taken over her mind too, greedy.
Words were lost on them, and it seemed that's exactly what Draco wanted. The witty repartee that usually accompanied a meeting like this would only slow them down right now.
He'd already been standing outside the Room when she'd arrived, and wasted little time in pulling her inside. Nonchalantly using the door, Draco's ease of manipulating the passage gave Hermione the idea that he'd visited here often.
Making a taunting comment had crossed her mind, to bring attention to her being one of the many he brought here, but she decided against it. Hermione feared that he would read this as jealousy, which she suspected would bring their meetings to an immediate and resolute end. The agreement to keep an emotional distance while so physically close was a silent one, but binding nonetheless.
"Have you learned anything about Blaise yet?" She'd asked, when they were alone with a disappearing door. Draco's response had been immediate, coming in the form of hands and teeth and tongue on her skin. Conversation was wholly unwelcome in that moment, and still was ten minutes later.
That response had brought them to where they were now, tied together in a knot of their own limbs.
Perfectly pearly teeth bit into her shoulder, responding to the hand giving him special attention underneath his unclasped belt. She let out a moan, the closest she could get in that moment to a coherent protest at the pain. The movement of his lips against the spot was sensual it it's own way, as Draco usually wasn't one to solve his injustices.
"Draco," Hermione moaned again, pulling her hand from his cock to cover his own where it worked her over. Draco was just so bloody good at that, knowing just what to touch and how to drive her up a wall in the moment.
His technique was rarely perfect, and Hermione had no qualms in telling him so, but he'd definitely improved on using his hands.
Pink lips sought out Draco's, locking them together. He might have been using too much tongue, fine. Hermione made a note for later in case he decided to be his usual prattish self, but allowed that to slide for the moment considering his attention was elsewhere.
His blond fray spilled over onto her face, further mussing his perfectly coiffed hair. When Hermione opened her eyes for just a moment she could see it framing their faces. It was such a contrast to her own dark locks that it was almost startling to see so close.
"Are you looking at my bloody hair?" Fingers stilling, Draco gave her a look of reproach. "There's nothing else of my being you find more attractive?"
The scoff that came from Hermione was less than gorgeous, but she felt it matched his attitude just the same. "I was looking at it for just a second, not that it should matter! Did you not have something to be doing right now?"
"Nothing I can recall, no. Any requests?" One brow of his raised, something that made Hermione both incredibly jealous, as she'd never been able to do that, and incredibly incensed. The nerve! "That being, besides cutting off a lock of my hair for some twisted version of safekeeping."
"You sodding knob, can you not just finish what you started?" Hermione grabbed his now motionless hand and brought it back between her legs.
Draco very slowly moved his hand in response, making miniscule movements towards continuing. At the same time he watched her, and Hermione could tell he wanted her to snap in response. Fifteen minutes and halfway though, suddenly he was in the mood for a row.
Not in the mood for speaking herself, Hermione made a calculated next move. With her same hand that had guided his own, Hermione got a firm grip on his cock.
"Well if you'd rather…" A grin smug enough to give Hermione dreams of smacking it off graced his face then. He must have been anticipating she'd continue where she'd left off a few minutes ago.
Instead, her hand shoved his from where she'd left it, and lined him up. Draco immediately recognized her goal, and jolted his hips forward, his grin now shifting closer to a smirk. "Well if only you'd told me that's what you wanted."
Hermione slammed her lips back into his, brutal and searing. "Get back to work, Draco." Her voice rumbled against his lips, and they grew more aggressive at the words.
Hips snapped against her, unwavering and constant. The rhythm of their mouths against one another matched, in synch. He'd even calmed down on the tongue a bit.
Searing and sinful, Hermione felt. Having him over her was a release like no other. She was breaking every rule she could think of, and yet it was the most amazing feeling. The force of him inside her, over her, touching her, she could never have imagined. He was smoke, inhabiting her whole being.
Draco however, hadn't touched her clit again.
She did not care, Hermione repeated. However, she knew that her being able to think that meant that she should care. The fact that thoughts were present was enough to prove that neither were doing their job well enough. Draco had proven his ability before to make every thought in her mind vanish before, and his hands were half of the equation.
"Draco," Hermione moaned, pulling her lips from his, "hands."
He made no immediate move to do as told. A righteous injustice, Hermione felt.
Draco however, hated to be outplayed. This weird meeting of enemies worked partly because he loved knowing he could take her apart, wholly with his own ability. Hermione had realized that half the fun for him was watching her lose herself in his touch. She figured this was quite the ego boost for him as well. Hermione didn't want to admit that though, as the last thing he needed was a bigger ego.
That was why a moment or so later, Hermione brought her hand down to try replicating his technique. It was better than nothing, yet still pale in comparison. Her own touch wasn't nearly a close match to him, but she wasn't concerned. His growl came right on time, expressing his anger at being sidelined. Within seconds he took over, removing her hand.
They both finished not long after that, laying to rest on the plush bed the Room had provided. Draco and Hermione laid in silence for a while, coming down from their long awaited peak. In effort to get comfortable, they had landed still somewhat tangled. One of her legs was slung between his, one of his hands resting on her warm thigh.
After a minute of so of deliberation, Hermione decided this was her chance, both of them sated for the time being.
"What do you know about Crabbe and Zabini's relationship?" Her voice was confident, though she kept hoping he wouldn't deflect again.
When he didn't answer, Hermione turned her head to glance at him. Brows furrowed, he seemed to be truly considering the question. "What of it?" His response was guarded, but this was a good sign. Hermione could tell he was open to questioning, at least for the moment.
"I heard they got into a scuff by the Black Lake a few weeks ago." Hermione tried to sound casual, but they both knew it was a ruse. She wanted every piece of information he had relating to Blaise, it was like tug of war with words.
"They've been tense for months, I'm sure that wasn't their first row." Draco's voice was thoughtful, placing his words carefully in the air.
"What about?"
He paused for only a few seconds, considering how to respond. "How did you know they'd had a row?" His question pulled on Hermione's confidence. Anticipating his responses was harder than she'd thought, they always seemed one step forward and two back when she tried asking about Blaise.
"Gryffindor gossip." Hermione added lightly, downplaying how helpful it was for Ron to overhear some underclassman. "Who all was Blaise fighting with? This list keeps getting longer."
"I know Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo for sure." He paused less before this answer, seemingly thinking more on the situation than the fact that he wanted her to leave it alone.
"Pansy?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She wasn't ready to bring up her whole thoughts on the girl just yet, as she had no guess as to Draco's response.
Draco snorted, shaking his head back against the pillow. "Her relationship with Theo made it a bit complicated."
"Relationship with Theo?" Hermione sat up on one arm, turning to look fully at Draco underneath furrowed brows. "They're dating?" Voice pitched, she turned the idea over in her mind.
"More like en route to marriage." Draco answered immediately.
Looking into Draco's eyes, she tried to decide what to ask next. This brought up so many more questions. "I didn't even realize they were close." How did she not know this?
"How often are you studying the politics and movements of Slytherins, Granger?" He gave another laugh, and she felt incredibly far from him. They seemed to be having two entirely different conversations in that moment.
"Have they been dating long, or are they en route to marriage the way every teen couple is?" Hermione tried to merge their lines of thought, hoping to break past the façade that seemed to shroud everything he said. It was like having an interaction through a cloud of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.
Draco have a chuckle, "They're definitely en route, been together three years or so."
Hermione's interest was piqued. Suddenly Pansy minimizing the breakfast row made some sort of sense. She must be covering for Theo, trying to pull him from the spotlight. It doesn't look great for an enemy to go mysteriously missing after a public blowup.
"Three years? Didn't you date Pansy not long ago?" Hermione let the words escape before she realized how he would twist them. Previous relationships was a taboo conversation, no matter the context.
"Getting jealous now, are we?" His voice was as smug as the smirk on his lips. "Does that not seem foolish, given the circumstance?"
Hermione puffed in annoyance, "It speaks to the credibility of your information, Draco."
"My credibility, is it?" Draco's brows shot up, looking at her tauntingly. He turned his body to fold an arm under his head, "Care to remind me why I'm sharing any of this at all?"
"Because your friend is missing, Draco." Hermione kept her voice even, trying to pin him down with her gaze. "Someone you bunked with for years and were supposedly a dear confidant to."
Draco gave a hearty laugh. "If you truly believe anyone in Slytherin keeps one another as a confidant, you entirely underestimate wizarding and Slytherin politics. Close with Blaise or not, we did less than sit in the night and share secrets."
"Did you or did you not date Pansy when you say she was dating Theo?" Hermione returned to the goal, knowing that Draco might be unwilling to speak on this again. Her interest in the social constraints of Slytherins was fascinating, and at some point she wanted to know more, but that was more likely to be discussed later.
He stared Hermione down, giving a rueful smile. "Why don't you ask Pansy yourself?"
Draco seemed to think that was quite the joke. He let out another hearty laugh, a usually rare sound in her ears.
So, after purposely ignoring whatever was going on with Blaise, Pansy was now running damage control for Theo. Hermione knew the next step; she needed to speak with Pansy.