I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. This chapter was edited by my wonderful betas Glorioux and AmyLouise.

Neither For Nor Against

Chapter 4

Monday, June 27. Two weeks and three days after the attack.

Hermione fought through the morning's gridlock in the Ministry's corridor, trying to reach her office in time. Inexplicably, she couldn't shake off the strange feeling that she was an outsider, that she did not belong. She looked around; faces were rushing beside her, almost through her, giving Hermione their indifferent smiles and nods. They all continued with their lives as if nothing had happened. They didn't remember, they didn't care, they had all forgotten.

Suddenly, the motley crowd began to spin before her eyes and Hermione felt sick. She barely made it to the nearest loo, where her morning meal decided to leave her stomach for good. Nerves,she thought, and with a much lighter stomach and, oddly, a much lighter heart as well, Hermione continued on her way. A few minutes later, she had finally reached her office.

The day went on as usual. Somewhere around midday, when Hermione was engrossed in her work, a small paper butterfly flew into her office and landed right on the End of the Month Report.

Hermione opened the note, and there, in Harry's impatient handwriting, was written,Hermione, please come to my office as soon as you can. I have extremely important news. H.

Instantly, Hermione closed everything she was working on and hurried to meet her friend. Her heart was once again fluttering with apprehension, close to panic. She walked as fast as her feet would go, while trying to calm herself. "Easy girl, steady now," she muttered. Then, with an hysterical giggle, "What am I, a horse?"

When Hermione opened the door to Harry's office, her friend was sitting at his desk, massaging his temples with his fingers. The moment he heard Hermione stepping in, he jumped to his feet. "Hermione, it's you, thank God!" Harry hugged her and without further preamble put a letter in front of her. "I received this today. It was inserted in my morning's Daily Prophet. It looks exactly like the letters the Malfoys were receiving."

Hermione scanned the contents of the letter. It was written in a primitive manner, simply stating that Harry Potter should be aware that 'they'were watching him and his blood- traitor wife.

Again, the wave of nausea threatened to engulf Hermione, so she took a deep breath, swallowed, and asked, "Did you tell Ginny?"

"No."

"What are you going to do?"

"I talked with Arthur; we decided not to tell either Molly or Ginny. Arthur already alerted the boys. We will take turns staying with Ginny. Charlie is coming too."

"Don't you think she'll notice that one of you is always around?"

"I hope not. She is rarely alone anyway. I'm sure George will come up with an explanation."

The two friends looked at each other—green eyes locked with honey ones. Both were desperately trying to find something to hold onto, and both were thinking the same,

Is it ever going to stop? Will it ever end—this terrible, bloody belligerence?

"I need to go. Be careful Harry, and keep Ginny safe, will you?"

"I will."

Back in her office, Hermione took a few minutes to calm herself down. Then, with a handful of Floo powder, she stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," she whispered.

Malfoy said she should contact him in an emergency, and that was exactly what she was doing. A few minutes later, she stepped out of Malfoy's fireplace. "Oh, bugger," grumbled Hermione, when she noticed that the soot was all over her light beige robes.

Could this day get any worse?

Apparently…

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley. Quite a surprise," Lucius appeared from the dimly lit hallway and looked at the dishevelled Hermione with interest.

His soundless appearance from the darkness of the corridor startled her. Next, she noticed sparkles of curiosity in his grey eyes. Why is he always looking at me with such interest? she thought. On the previous Sunday, Hermione couldn't help but notice the way Malfoy had regarded her dress—with a mixture of exaggerated annoyance and perceptiveness. Prick.

Malfoy motioned Hermione to follow him and led her to his office. Hermione was literally forced to bite her tongue, in order to be able to reach the room before she spilled the news. Finally, Lucius settled at his desk and gave her a quizzical glance.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley, spit it out. I hear your teeth, grinding in anticipation. It's obviously burning at your insides, so spit it out!"

"Harry received a letter today. They threatened him and Ginny, mostly Ginny. What do we do?" Hermione waited for his reaction.

Malfoy looked at her with an arched eyebrow and bored expression. He wasn't doing anything else. There was a complete and total lack of reaction. None, nothing, zero. Hermione was lost. Her mind obligingly offered Ron's favourite phrase: "What, has he gone mental or something?" She watched Malfoy carefully, trying to understand. Then, the minute she recognised an arrogant smirk, which had appeared on his lips, everything became clear.

"You smarmy git! You sent it!"

Next second, her wand was digging into his neck. The wizard didn't even move; the smirk was still on his lips. "Lower your wand, girl. I'm not going to fight with you," he drawled.

Hermione was fuming with anger. The only thing she wanted at that moment was for Malfoy to give her a reason to put a hex on him. "I am going to hex your arrogant arse straight to hell," she hissed.

"No you won't, not when I am unarmed, and please watch your tongue. Could you at least try to behave like a lady?"

"I am not going to be your puppet, Malfoy. You are not going to play me like this ever again. You've come to me and have asked for my help. I will not tolerate your arrogance and haughty stupidity. Maybe your wife and other women you knew before were willing to be puppets in your hands, but not me. I can assure you of that!"

The expression on the wizard's face didn't change. Lucius sighed and stated, "Wrong; you couldn't be further from the truth. If only my wife had listened to me and done what I said, she and your husband might still be alive. Back to the matter at hand—why are you upset? I honestly cannot comprehend that. You asked me to make sure that Mrs. Potter will be safe, and I did it, quite elegantly and effectively. What is wrong with that?"

Oh, how she wanted to beat the air of superiority out of him, preferably with her bare hands!

"Why didn't you tell me about your plan?"

"Because Mrs. Weasley—let me think how to put it mildly—you are not a particularly skilled liar. I doubt that you could play 'surprise' genuinely, hmm?" A satisfied smile spread across his face.

Hermione knew that he was right, at least in part; her anger disappeared. She was relieved that the letter wasn't real—thus, no one was threatening Ginny. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to give up.

"If we want to continue with our plan, you have to treat me as an equal, respect my opinion, and make a vow that all future decisions concerning our collaboration will be made together. Is this clear?"

Something changed in Malfoy's eyes, and Hermione was momentarily sidetracked by the range of dangerous emotions she saw there. His grey eyes were unblinkingly locked on her.

"And how exactly you are going to persuade me into this? Remember, girl, I am not going to explain myself to anyone. Especially you."

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. In that case, I think you should be prepared to spend some time at home." This time Hermione was the one with the smirk.

Lucius gave her a wary glance. "And why is that, may I ask?"

"Because, Mr. Malfoy, I am going to tell Harry that it was you who send the letter, and in addition, you were trying to use me as bait. I think it would be more than enough to keep you under house arrest until we catch the attackers. I can do it rather easily, believe me. I think Harry is quite capable of accompanying me to the cemetery, and besides, you are not the only wizard who knows how to place a Disillusionment Charm." Hermione was euphoric—the expression on Malfoy's face was priceless. Of course, she was bluffing shamelessly.

Lucius slowly stood up and approached her. She didn't move. The most vital part of the bluff was to stand her ground and remain calm. He stopped only a foot from Hermione, obviously trying to intimidate her with his proximity. It worked. The witch began to fidget nervously, but still, she didn't move an inch.

"You are bluffing, girl. You won't do it. It will never work. Potter won't agree to that," he whispered dangerously.

"Try me. And don't call me 'girl'," said Hermione and stubbornly jerked her chin up.

She could feel his breath on her neck and smell the scent of his cologne. Her heart sped up unexpectedly and,for a moment, Lucius Malfoy filled all her surroundings. His presence overwhelmed all her senses.

Then, he tilted his head even closer to her and murmured in her ear, "Deal."

Oh, the sweet, sweet taste of triumph. She won. She'd out-Slytherined the one and only Lucius Malfoy.

Or… maybe, he was just playing her again, was he?