A/N: Hey again! Bit of a late update, here. My apologies! College is… well, college. Thanks very much to everyone who read and reviewed, and a special thanks to Lena224 and matkatry for reviewing every single chapter so far! Fair warning, I only have one more chapter pre-written right now. I'll do my best to churn them out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Draco rubs a hand across his face, leaning back against the castle wall. It had seemed odd to him that he was assigned to patrol near the not-so-secret passageway to Hogsmeade. It makes more sense to seal it, he had argued. Shacklebolt had only shaken his head. With a sigh he pulls out his wand, casting a nonverbal Homenum Revelio. As he expected, he is the only one here. Of course, there are others patrolling various parts of the castle. Potter had given up that infernal map of his before Draco had joined the Order, after the Battle for Hogwarts. Draco remembers when he had first laid eyes on it.
The dragon Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, former professor McGonagall, Potter, and Granger all crowded around the table in the main parlor, waiting for Draco to speak. Granger was studiously ignoring his existence, which set his teeth on edge, Potter was glowering at the table, Weasley's face was blank, and McGonagall and Shacklebolt looked expectant. On the table in front of them was a folded piece of parchment. Draco leaned forward, examining it for anything that might give it away as special. Nothing immediately stood out, so he pulled out his wand and tapped it, muttering "Specialis Revelio,"
Words began to form on the front folds of the parchment right away, and Draco picked it up to study it further.
"The Marauder's Map," he read, glancing up to the others. "I assume Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are the marauders?" he asked. McGonagall's lips twitched.
"That is correct, Mister Malfoy," she said. "Why don't you go ahead and take a look at the rest of the map?" Draco sighed inwardly and placed the parchment on the table. He tapped it with his wand and words began to form.
"Wormtail would like to inform Mister Malfoy that he is going to have to try harder than that," Draco read aloud, frowning. "Moony would like to remind Mister Malfoy that he is too clever to expect it to be that easy," he continued, looking up at the others once more. They said nothing, but Potter's eyes were fixed on the map instead of the table, and Granger's lips were slightly upturned. He cleared his throat and read on, "Padfoot would like to congratulate Mister Malfoy on surviving his own cowardice and joining the right side," Draco scowled as both Granger and Potter laughed at that, his cheeks reddening. He dropped the map on the table and crossed his arms petulantly. When it was clear he wouldn't continue, Granger rolled her eyes and pushed back from the table, coming to lean over his right shoulder. Draco's eyes followed her movement and he tried to subtly scoot his chair away from her but, judging by the elbow that knocked into his temple and her insincere "sorry", he wasn't successful. Granger cleared her throat and touched her index finger to the map.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she announced. Draco watched with interest as the map changed, blueprints of Hogwarts scrawling themselves across the parchment. To his greater interest, names began to appear in places where he knew there were patrol routes. A few names were scattered elsewhere, but not many. Draco spotted Ginny Weasley's name almost overlapping with Ernie MacMillan's, and his eyes immediately sought out Potter's. The dark-haired man's throat bobbed as he looked anywhere except his ex-girlfriend's place on the map.
"So, this is how you never got caught," he said, leaning back from the table and trying to ignore the barely-there heat emanating from Granger's arm so close to his head. "Bloody unfair, that is," he grumbled, earning a bell-like peal of laughter from Granger that sent a shiver up his spine. Potter shrugged a shoulder, never taking his eyes off the map. Shacklebolt cleared his throat and shared a glance with both McGonagall and the dragon Weasley.
"Yes, well," he began, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. "However unfair that may be, Mister Malfoy, we showed you the map because we would like your help replicating it." Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Shacklebolt continued, "You were one of the top students in your year, as well as Hermione here, and Padma Patil, who is elsewhere at the moment." Draco rolled the idea around for a moment. Although there was the obvious drawback of having to work with someone he despised and someone who despised him in return, he couldn't deny that the idea of working on something this advanced intrigued him. Plus, it might be able to increase his standing with the Order.
"Very well," he said at last. "I'll do it." Granger scoffed behind him but otherwise made no comment. Shacklebolt smiled, standing from his seat. The others did the same, Potter and Granger especially anxious to leave the room.
"Excellent choice, Mister Malfoy," Shacklebolt said. He gave a nod, which Draco returned, and left, McGonagall, Potter and Granger following behind him. Draco turned his eyes to the dragon Weasley and lifted an eyebrow in question. The ginger-haired man retook his seat, gesturing for Draco to do the same. He summoned a bottle of Butterbeer for each of them and twisted the top off his, taking a long drink.
"Let's have a chat, little Malfoy," he said. Draco settled into his chair, waving his hand for the other man to continue speaking.
Draco sighs and pushes off the wall, beginning to walk toward the end of the corridor. His patrol route takes him around the corner into another corridor, where three figures are huddled together at the end. Draco slows his steps and lifts his wand, his ears just barely picking up the slight buzz that indicates a Muffilatio. He casts a nonverbal Finite, but it has no effect. His heart begins to beat a little faster as he sizes up his opponents. They are all varying heights, but one of them is between twelve to fifteen centimeters shorter than the other two. None of them are particularly muscular, but that doesn't mean anything when it comes to magical talent. An immobulus should work well enough to incapacitate them. If they are Death Eaters, it might be wise to capture instead of kill them. Voldemort may have been killed, but the war is far from over and Dolohov is crueler and more unpredictable than the Dark Lord ever was. Inside information is extremely valuable. He fires off three spells in quick succession, then falls to his knees with a grunt as they all rebound off a powerful shield charm and head back in his direction. His wand is tugged out of his hand but he summons it back before it makes it to the one who tried to take it. He stands and casts a shield around himself, not a moment too soon. Three bolts of light bounce off it and hit the other shield, fizzling out half way back to his. He conjures a flame and sends it hurtling toward the other end of the hall. This spell, like the others, bounces harmfully off the shield, but illuminates the faces hiding behind it. Draco curses and begins to walk forward, deflecting curses until his face is shown in the scant torchlight.
"Relax Granger, Weasleys," he says holding his arms up. Inside, he is fuming. What kind of idiots conspire in a corner, completely in the dark? If they hadn't been shielded, likely Granger's wild magic protecting them, he would have three very angry Gryffindors on his hands. The three stepped forward and Draco dropped his arms back down to his sides, sliding his wand back into his robes. George walks over and claps a hand on Draco's shoulder.
"You really had us scared, mate," he says, a smile belying his words. Draco snorts.
"You're too high to feel fear," he shoots back, winking at Ginny. Granger rolls her eyes as her friends laugh. "Granger," he says, taking a step forward. She tilts her head up to meet his eyes. "That an impressive shield. Was it hard to keep up?" She shrugs a shoulder, her expression betraying nothing.
"It's automatic," she says. Ginny lays an arm around her shoulder and Granger shoots a small smile at the younger girl. "You know my magic is different than others', Malfoy,"
"Yes," Draco drawls, "Your magic is extremely… unique," He hides a wince when George's hand on his shoulder tightens uncomfortably. Granger's eerie golden eyes flash with something. Anger? No, frustration, maybe even a little fear. Draco smirks. "No need to be afraid of it, Granger. Wild magic is very powerful when used correctly. You could be an asset to the Order, if only you'd pull your head out of your arse." Ginny's gasp barely reaches Draco's ears before he's shoved to the side and George is vanishing a large murder of crows that were seemingly intent on pulling Draco's hair out. One of them had come close enough that he felt the air generated by the force of its wings beating.
"Hermione," George chastises, placing his hands on his hips. "He was trying to get a rise out of you on purpose." Granger is still glaring at him and her hair is hovering around her face, literally sparking with the force of her anger. Draco grins and winks at her, causing a sound that seems suspiciously like thunder to echo through the corridor.
"Hermione!" George says again, raising his voice. "Are you listening to me, little book worm?" Granger's eyes snap over to him and her anger melts away. She begins to giggle almost immediately. Ginny takes a step away, looking at the curly-haired witch as though she's grown a second head.
"You—look—just like—your mother," she forces out between laughs, covering her mouth with her hands and bending at the waist. Ginny looks at her brother and a smile begins to tug at her lips.
"You do look like mum," she agrees. George huffs in mock offense, turning his nose into the air.
"Well, I never!" He exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest. This only increases the volume of Granger's laughter and Ginny joins her. Draco observes the three friends and tries to ignore the pang in his chest. He tells himself that he doesn't miss his friends as much as he does, but he knows it's a lie. It's been too long since he's seen Theo, and Blaise… well, he won't think about Blaise. Charlie is currently staying at Shell Cottage, and it's too dangerous to pop over to France for a visit. Pansy is in Merlin knows which safe house, studying her healing skills. Fortunately, he'll get to see her after the raid in two days' time. Granger runs a finger under her eyes and lets out a content sigh. Ginny wraps her arm back around her shoulders and begins walking. They stop at the corner when they realize George isn't following them. They both turn to look over their shoulders.
"Coming, George?" Granger asks, her voice soft and almost intimate. Draco frowns. Is there something going on between the two of them that he had never noticed?
"In a mo'," George replies. Ginny stares at the two for a moment before shrugging and turning to leave. Granger keeps her eyes on them until they are out of sight, clearly curious.
Draco is also curious, and impatient. "Spit it out, George," he says, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. George runs a hand through his hair and begins to pace. Draco watches for a moment, observing the tension in the other man's shoulders and the swiftness of his stride. He makes a show of casting a tempus charm, pretending to be surprised at the time. "Well, would you look at that?" George glances at the clock displayed in the air but doesn't slow down. "My rounds are almost over, and I'd like to get back to number twelve. There's hot tea and a warm bed there with my name on it." George stops in front of him and takes a deep breath.
"I know you mean well, Draco, but you're going about this the wrong way. You can't antagonize her into doing what you want. Not anymore," Draco scoffs and moves to leave, but George's hand on his arm stops him. "I'm serious, mate. You're pissing her right off. She doesn't speak about you at all if she can help it, nor the things you say to her. I agree that she needs to get back on her feet. It's been four years now. We all must continue on. I learned that after—after—" he stops, clearing his throat, and Draco averts his eyes when he notices the tears in the other man's eyes. "Anyway, her and Harry… they need to fix whatever's happened between them, or nothing will ever progress. Too many people look to them for leadership, especially the younger members. Now that Hermione's off active duty and Harry is… well, you know, we're losing morale. We can't keep up like this," Draco pushes off the wall and sighs.
"What would you have me do then? I don't know how to motivate her. Potter, not matter how much he's… changed, still responds to emotional methods. Granger doesn't seem to respond to anything serious. She's a slave to her magic." George snaps his fingers, his eyes lighting up with the force of his idea.
"Teach her to control it!"
"What? George, I can't teach her to control her magic. I can barely get by without my wand. Plus, no one has magic like hers. You know that. It's wild. It has the force of an Obscurus, but without the whole parasite bit." George is shaking his head.
"Hermione still loves a challenge, and she wants to help the Order. You just have to make it seem like that's the only way she'll get put back on active duty,"
"That is the only way she'll get put back on active duty." George just shrugs.
"She doesn't know that yet. They only took her off about six months ago. She thinks it's because of her injury." He holds up a hand when Draco opens his mouth, "I know, Malfoy. She was completely healed in two weeks. But she doesn't know why they haven't sent her on a mission yet. Since you so clearly want her out there fighting, and neither Ginny or I can give her the aggressive shove back onto her feet that she needs, you'll have to figure it out."
Draco is silent for a few moments, rolling George's words around in his head. He thought for sure that Granger would get so angry with his taunts that she would snap and do everything she could to prove him wrong. Maybe she isn't as prideful as he always assumed.
"All right," he agrees finally, "I'll work on my delivery, then," George grins and claps him on the back, offering only a merry wave as he walks around the corner. Up to no good, obviously. Draco shakes his head and finishes up his patrol route, thinking over what to say to Granger the next time he sees her. Perhaps a different approach will work better, after all.