Author's Note: I apologize for quite a hiatus. I hope you enjoy the new chapter xx

~The Spiny Serpent~

It was seven pm, and all Draco wanted to do was sink just the slightest bit lower into the tub. Just the slightest bit so his face became submerged. Just the slightest bit so he couldn't breathe. Just the slightest bit so maybe he'd drown luxuriously in something calming and hot. Instead of probably getting his hands hexed off tonight in the most vulgar way when he had to make some progress on this stupid fucking plan he never wanted any part of.

Sighing, he slugged back from the merlot bottle he'd placed precariously on the bath edge. As he heard the tinkle of the glass hitting porcelain, putting it down, he examined the wrinkles forming on his hands. He'd been lying in there all afternoon. Falling to sleep until around four in the morning, waking up at one wasn't something he'd like to admit was routine.

After his conversation with his new – ugh – partner, all he could mull over was the manner in which she had told him "we're in this together'. Nobody had ever been 'in this together' with him before. Not in his whole life. He'd kept it that way and he liked it: Malfoys liked to scheme their schemes alone. And yet, sixth year he'd nearly gone mad.
Maybe he wouldn't have to this time…

"Maybe I already fucking am."
'This time'? Why in the fuck did there even have to be a 'this time'?
Pensive now about his pending insanity, he danced his fingers through the water, feeling the resistance as he swayed them back and forth around the bubbles. Then he made a giant splash, growling in frustration.
"What the hell am I going to do?"

Draco operated best on the down low, not in the spotlight. Despite his best efforts, he never could charm the Horace Slughorn's of the world the way someone like Blaise Zabini did. His mouth was too sharp, he was too pompous, he thought too much of himself and his pride.
He was an ass.

And the worst part was he liked being one. He couldn't help it. Something in his bloodline and his mind made it so fun. Yet tonight self-preservation was out the window. A single word to the wrong person…he could get himself in a sea of trouble.
Knowing that, he wanted out. Immediately.
Why was it so hard to get what he wanted?

Though deep in the recesses of his mind he knew she was right, he wasn't so sure Granger understood what being involved in this meant. That being intelligent wasn't quite enough. And though she was brave, she wasn't a natural born liar. Certainly he knew she could plan things well, but the Harry Potter crew always thrived going balls to the walls for half of their ruses, and Draco knew that wouldn't work this time.

Lazily, he stood up, donning his white robe as he stepped out of the bath, swaying his way out of the room. Stalking down the corridor, head dizzy, he withdrew his wand from the soft cloth pocket, swishing it at the stairs that led to his attic. They flew down with a resonating crack.
It was black as night as he enchanted lumos, the bright ball of light showing him the cauldron he desperately didn't want to work on as he stepped up into the tiny room. The contents in the basin showed to be horribly right on schedule. Amber like the finest of whiskeys, the mendacium was smoking, glistening with a sparkle. Only two more weeks and it would be ready.
Only two more weeks, and he felt a lurch in his gut.

Thrusting a ladle into the bowl, he turned it thrice clockwise, then threw it onto the wooden floor. Nox-ing his hawthorn, he stepped back down to the main floor, falling into his bed.

Six hours until he had to get up.

{}

For the life of her, Hermione couldn't quit inventing a million different scenarios of how Draco could fuck up this meeting of his.

It had plagued her mind all day at work. She'd been unable to get any resemblance of rest, and very nearly called in sick, but knew if she had there'd be a curious Ginny Weasley or Harry Potter at her front door as soon as it hit five had she done it.
Now it was presently 10:30 and while she fixated on the idea of Draco ratting her out as an accomplice in being threatened with his life, her mobile rang: It was a Weasley.

"Why now?"

Sinking onto her kitchen floor, she pressed the answer button, hoping she could make it through this.

"HI…Ron," she cleared her throat – much too high pitched. "How are you?"

"Hey Hermione," and she could feel the smile and happiness in his tone. "I'm fine. I was just calling to see if maybe you wanted to go to dinner this weekend? If you're busy, I –"

"NO, that sounds great Ron. Dinner sounds great. Pick me up at 6?"

"Um, yeah okay, well where did you want to –"

"YOU PICK. Surprise me! I'm up for a surprise!"
Her poker face was non-existent. She thanked the gods he couldn't see her expression.

"Sure…you all right….Hermione?"

"I'm fine, just stressed from, ahem, this House Elf legislation we've been working towards."

"I didn't know there was a new one ongoing. Did you not just pass one last month?"
She'd forgotten how he actually was invested now in her interests.

"Yes….rather, it's an amendment, not a brand new legislature…we're trying to add a clause about their housing, to make it more adequate and less barbaric, you see. More square footage…their own bathroom…"
Oh god, this was total shite, and she bet he knew it.

There was silence from the other end, a pause before he spoke.
"Oh, I see…."

"Anyways, I'm very busy, I'll see you soon darling, bye!"

"Uh….okay, bye…"
Clicking it off, she threw the phone down onto the tiles, covering her face into her hands.
Why did she have to lie?
Why did she have to be involved in this?
What would and could she do about this?

Racking her brain for ideas, she knew logically that this matter was going to take more time than she could stand. She also knew that interrupting anything tonight would be suspicious as hell.

She had no control; she was going to lose it.

Yet…perhaps she could work something to Draco's favour, or hers. If she went to Knockturn Alley, if she went in and simply told them the Ministry was doing rounds, could she get any kind of feel for their character? Draco wouldn't even have to act surprised. She couldn't only go on his words.

But if Draco had told them he desired to get out of the game, and she just came storming in the next day…Would they think he spilled the beans? It would certainly be fishy.

As she stood up once more, a flashback flooded her brain, very vividly, when she, Harry and Ron had fallen off the Gringotts guard dragon. Frantically searching for a plan as they fought the cold…. what Harry had said to her.

"Hermione, when have our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose!"

And he had been right. No matter what, out of anything she had learned in the past few years, was that you can't expect anything, even the unexpected.
Draco had agreed to do what she had said.

So maybe she should just trust him.
Still. She didn't know Theodore Nott at all, she didn't know what she was dealing with, and she didn't think Malfoy, even if he might've changed, could keep it altogether. He said it himself, he had no family ties anymore, and it was fact that Lucius and Narcissa were the only ones who actually gave one ounce of crap about him.
If hell broke loose and she was not there, could she finish the job alone? He knew much more than he let on, they'd only spoken twice and now this entire operation's future was riding on his word.

"I have to think fast."

Then something so absurd, so ridiculous formed in her head it dizzied her, giving her both a sick stomach and an adrenaline rush.
Getting up, she marched to her room, throwing open her wardrobe. Snatching a black cloak, and her best black dress, she rifled through her intimates to find matching black stockings.
Laying them all gently across her sheets, she then examined her reflection in her mirror. Tired eyes stared back, and the days makeup flaking off her lashes as her normally bright eyes felt hollow.

She had about three hours to get this right, she thought she'd start with her appearance. Grabbing the rouge lipstick that lay way in the back of her vanity's drawer, she applied it to her lips, hoping that somehow the boldness could in turn make her bold.

Tonight she felt she would need it the most.
Not knowing was her least favourite thing in the entire world.
And right now she had complete uncertainty if anything would work.

{}

"Your scotch is getting cold, Draco, lad, the ice cubes have all but melted. Why not grab another?"

Salvatore Sangrey was handsome.

Devastatingly, unquestionably handsome.
Perfectly curled black hair on top of a sharp jaw, with piercingly light eyes and olive skin. Impeccably dressed in a suit, he was fit, he was mesmerizing: he drew you in. If you walked into a room full of strangers, you'd likely spot him first.

Draco despised it.

Salvatore, even without all his power, could probably get anyone to do anything. Case in point; all it took was a rude signal of two fingers without making any kind of eye contact to get the busty barmaid to come over and deliver another round.

He wondered secretly if the man was a vampire.
Because everyone who he spoke to fell all over themselves to please him.
And if his theory was true, if that made his – or anyone else's - reactions worse or better.

"Thanks."
There was a vague attempt at a smile.

Thanking his lucky stars, he was glad Ramona was absent. Had she been here, who knows if he could keep any inkling of composure. It seemed a good sign he wasn't going to be kidnapped or murdered by her not being present.
Knowing what someone might be able to do, and witnessing it were two completely different things. Seeing her drag a man then attack him without the use of any magic was a tactic entirely new to him. So subtle, so effective.
He had never been fearful of the Dark Lord until he'd seen his wrath firsthand. Right now, he was forcing himself to view Salvatore as merely a charming bastard, and not the CEO of villainy.

"Is it good?"

Looking from an eager Nott to his leader, Draco took a sip, just a sip, and placed it down with an audible thunk.

"Simply wonderful."

His attempts at looking bored were starting to verge on impatience as he wanted to get away from this stupid chitter-chatter about if he was going to attend some inane party at the Sangrey ancient manor. He knew he was only invited to such an event help satiate his uneasiness about being an accomplice. And still he was going to have to attend if his request for more involvement would have any sense or merit.
And he'd have to do it alone.

"We're going to have every vintage available from Scotland at the celebration of course. I do hope you can make it."
And though he gave Draco a winning smile, it came off greasy and unclean.

"I'll have to think about it."
He took another sip to mask his expression, and maybe because he needed to take the edge off too.

"You have to come, Draco, I went last year…the women are spectacular."
Ugh, that was all that Nott thought about. Or spoke about.
Money, women, and sex.
Being that he required galleons to get women to get sex.

And Draco really could not refrain from rolling his eyes at his former classmate, wondering why he thought they were still 17 and not adults that survived a travesty of a war.

"Hush now, Theodore, I hardly think Draco is the kind of man to, shall we say, involve himself with creatures of the night. Given his father is married to such a beautiful lady like Narcissa Black. And I think it shows in him too, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh…"

Nott was struggling to agree. The flattery was fake as his conscience. If it had been any other time, Draco would have relished in this, someone pandering to him, finding it comical even.
But it fell flat, and when Salvatore continued to grin with glee, he had had enough.

"Shall we get to the point, Salvatore? You must know why we're meeting here, you're not unwise."
He learned the tactic from one of the greats, Lucius Malfoy. Belittling your company when you know they're better than you, or at least have more leverage, was a specialty.

Draco had fully banked on there being numerous lackeys, some 'muscle' for intimidation. And yet there wasn't. Not a single other person except Nott.

Unless they were hiding outside. But even if there was, Draco had come to the conclusion in this tedious forty-minute conversation that he really was the only person who could slip through cracks so magnificently. Nobody cared about him or his family anymore since they stayed away from Dark Magic. Since most people knew their rep was tarnished and they'd forever be irrelevant. There would be no comeback.

He had told Salvatore before that he wouldn't risk getting caught with more than legal doses of love elements in Amortentia, so perhaps he'd actually respected him for the nerve to deny the request. It was certainly clear that he was trying to bully him into favour.

Honestly, if Salvatore disagreed with his proposition, he'd probably be dead anyways, so really who cared if the world was going to end?
He'd be a skeleton, on his highway to hell as he surely knew he would be to even care about the suffering of the wizarding world that had turned him away when it was most needed.
He may as well try, even if it was for a girl's sake whom he loathed.

Pursing his lips, Salvatore raised a brow.
"So angry you seem, my dear Draco. Nott is under the impression you want to leave our organization. But I told him you wouldn't dream of it, would you? Not with what I'm paying you?"

It was the first sign of discomfort; it was time for his fangs to come out and bite down.

"Oh but I would dream of it," Draco replied, tilting his head ever so slightly forwards. "And no, the pay is just marvellous."

"Then what is the issue, lad?"
Baring his white teeth, the man smiled - this time it was cold.

"I am now recognizable in these parts. And my number one rule was anonymity. You agreed that was best too, if I recall correctly. Unless Theodore lied to me," Draco stated pointedly, to which Nott flinched. "When Theodore put forth his proposition I was given no information about who I was serving. I was content with that being as I like to operate on my own. And then just a few short weeks before tonight I met you, the head of everything. Right after I received some hefty requests. Now, I don't like being kept in the dark, Salvatore. I would be glad to do all your bidding, and perhaps change the rules I had before if I was given a bit more leeway on your, shall we say, secrets?"

"Secrets?"
It lilted of the leader's tongue, Draco was unsure if he was feigning misunderstanding or not.
He leant forwards just the slightest bit more.

"The amber liquid brewing in my attic is very dangerous," he then whispered. "And in the wrong hands it could affect my life in ways I wouldn't dream of, whether I am the victim or I am the culprit, you see."

"In what ways are you worried about?" Salvatore inquired, his eyes now slits, flicking her gaze his to his main accomplice before returning it to his potion master. Who was much too calm.

"I don't know who you're selling this stuff to. If it's merely the dregs of society or people who end up in Azkaban. And if I had a hundred percent security that it would never affect me negatively, then I could continue my services. If not…I don't really see why I should if you could off me at any waking hour, as you certainly are capable of."

Crossing his arms, Draco held his glass in one hand, swirling it around as he surveyed the two men observing him as if he were a puzzle they couldn't solve. Nott with a sour look, Salvatore with softer intrigue.

"Do you not trust me, Draco? Do you not think that I wouldn't have asked such a difficulty of you if I was planning to hurt you?"

"Frankly, Mr. Sangrey? I don't trust anybody. I have confidence in people, as I do you in you that you will give me galleons for my deliveries. But things can change in the flick of the wrist. You might find someone better, something may happen to me that you find irreconcilable. I don't know. I've become uncomfortable with our arrangement."

Silence overwhelmed them, the only noise the humming of the old house rocking in the windy summer night. He could tell the man was musing about what he could do to resolve this, perhaps if he could or if he should hex him now and get it over and done with.

Suddenly, the bar door swung open. A woman in a long black robe with her head covered strode in, and took a place at the bar.

Her bearing seemed so familiar that he squinted at her presence, which alerted his company to where he stared. The barmaid addressed her, no doubt telling her they were closing soon when her eyes widened.

Sangrey looked to Nott, who shrugged.
"Do you know her, Draco?"

"I'm…not sure."

If it was who he thought it was, there was going to be blood.

Catherine, the barmaid, was tentative, carrying another glass over to the table. The three men watched her as she strode. She cleared her throat, flickering her gaze frantically:
"From the lady at the bar, sir."

And she placed it in front of Draco. Then scampered off, no doubt more aware of her new patron of what barging in at the wee hours of the morning meant.

The baffled look on his face was genuine. As he snuck a glance once more at the mystery girl, she pulled her hood down.
Hermione, much more beautiful than he thought she could be, nodded to Draco, no trace of kindness on her.

"Tell me, what business does a woman of that calibre have being in a pub at this time of night?"
His voice, Salvatore's, was devoid of all the lilting and warmth it held not two minutes prior.
"And why, is she sending you a drink?"

"Let me go find out."

With veins burning, face threatening to kick into rage, he stood up slowly, sliding over to his partner, allowing her to speak first as he sat next to her for fear of exploding.

"Before you decide to hex me, let me explain what is going to happen here."
Though her tone was serious, she was propping her elbow onto the bar, leaning her head against a delicate hand, silky hair flowing in a curtain across her chest as she tilted her body towards his.
He said nothing in response, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"You're going to go back and tell Salvatore and Theodore that we've been having an arrangement."
She smiled coyly, making a point to glance over at the two men watching their conversation.

"An arrangement?"

"Yes, an arrangement. That you've been supplying me with vanishing potions and Felix Felicis for, hmmm, say a year now. And once my payments ran out…I had to get my business through other means."
Hermione snaked her free hand to Draco's, which rest upon the wooden surface. Before he could flinch, she held onto his fingers tightly.

"What in the fuck are you on about?"

Though said it almost silently, his eyes were filled with pure rage.

"We went to Hogwarts together after the war. They don't know what happened there. Tell them that after we graduated, I mentioned wanting to research giant and centaur patterns. Tell them that you beat me in potions, it's true, a fact easy to check."

"You're mad, Granger."
He slammed her hand back onto the bar. She didn't flinch.

It was obvious by Draco's demeanour that he wasn't into this proposal, but it was too late. Theodore and Salvatore were eavesdropping; She had to make it work,

"I'm not. I have to find a way to be involved, you can't push me out. I knew only you could make such powerful potions, I needed a means to study 'dangerous' races from afar, on the offside. But I had to keep it a secret because you don't have a brewing license. They'll believe you, I know it. Say I kept in contact with you and bought them from you for cheap. Say we got to talking…. then more. You've been trying to cut me off now because of my position, and now your position."

She ghosted her hand to his knee. Rubbing it up and down his thigh, Draco gave an involuntary gasp. Then moved his hand to hers, steadying it.
It took all the composure in the world for Hermione not to react to his reaction. His fingers were blazing.

"Tell them your Felix Felicis enabled me to enact the Centaur Protection Pact; clause 57. They'll look it up. You can vaguely say that it allowed me to capture evidence of centaur pack hailing from the Caledonian Forests. They were helping a wounded Belgian witch who had been attacked by giant Doxy's."

Pupils dilating, he shook his head wildly.

"Granger, I'm not going to lie to this man, and I don't know what the fuck you thought would come out of you swooping in here consulting me."
Her knuckles were white as his grip tightened, his frown stretched across his pale skin as he kept control.

"Look, Draco, we need a plan. If they see I'm involved with you, maybe they'll want information from the Ministry. I can figure out ways to allow that, tiny tidbits. Tell them we've been having a casual sexual relationship but I'm catching more than just orgasms."

"WHAT?"

"Now you've done it, they're coming over. Tell them I'm in love with you and that you aren't with me. They'll try to get you to use me."

Jumping in her chest her heart knew this was a great plan, even if her partner didn't.
Although the extremely handsome tall man walking her way came off intimidating as he was grinning coolly.

"Hello there, my name is Salvatore Sangrey. Would it be so bold of me to ask if you aren't the Hermione Granger, are you?"'

Holding out a hand to her, Draco's attention was solely on the fact that Hermione's was still a mere six inches from his cock. And that she had done that on purpose so his boss would see.

"Not at all. Yes, I am," and she stood up, suddenly appearing red-faced and flustered. Though not the flustered that he was oh so familiar with. The kind of flustered that he himself had made her feel a few years prior. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Sangrey, but I really must be going now."

She shook his hand, and smiled, turning round to leave without acknowledging Theodore.

"Oh please, stay for a drink. You're already out at such a late hour."

Silky smooth, she merely nodded at his pointed inflection.
"This is true, but I'm afraid I've already been working much too hard on a lost cause. Goodbye Draco." Rolling his name off her tongue with as much care as a mother holds her baby, she was out the door.

"And what pray tell was that about?"
Curiosity was much more present than annoyance or anger.

"Why was Hermione Granger practically riding you? You were such a grade A fuckhole to her in school. And man, when did she get so…. not ugly?"

There was no other way out of this. The saucy minx had trapped him in her game, there was no other explanation that would suffice. Taking his whiskey, staring at the contents, he was feigning indifference to this situation. Like her arrival was a fly buzzing round his head, only irritated him, not made his bones jump from his skin.

"She went back to Hogwarts when I did after the war. We didn't speak much, but I beat her in potions."

"You beat her?"

"Now, now, Nott, does that come as a surprise? Really?"
Theodore threw up his hands, Salvatore pat him on the back as he held a finger to his mouth - to shush- then made his way to sit on the stool that Hermione had just left vacant.

"Please, continue."

He noticed Salvatore stroking his goatee.
"Yes, and she was justifiably upset about it. Still though, there was a moment, in history class, wherein she divulged that she hoped to study centaurs and giants. To help them you see. That's very dangerous, she'd need some kind of help. There I am, last year. After she had been transferred to a new department. IN a powerful position that would allow her to make some real changes."

"Wait, wait, wait - She asked you for potions?"
Theodore was asking all the questions he needed to be asked. Could this actually work?

"Yes she did, because the Ministry wouldn't fund her missions. They have bigger problems than allowing centaurs more leeway into wizard life. Felix Felicis runs up to thousands of galleons sometimes, and though her Muggle family is relatively affluent, the currency doesn't quite translate."

"And did it help her then? Did the potions do anything?"

Salvatore was hanging on to his every word.
"Yes. Yes, it did. I don't know the exact details - she keeps them from me in case the ministry ever comes knocking – but she was observing centaurs in the Caledonian forests using invisibility potions. That's in Scotland I believe. I believe she was caught in a skirmish with some creature, she took liquid luck to ensure her escape. But instead saw them helping an injured witch escape from Doxy's. Meaning that she can prove they aren't violent in nature, meaning they are willing to help wizards."

"And she works in magical law enforcement…"

"Yes, she used the evidence to create a clause in the Centaur Protection pact. The witch made a testimony."

"But that's amazing! I can't believe it!"
Salvatore was incredulous. He was almost glowing.

"That still doesn't explain why she was trying to fuck you, though."
Nott drained his drink.

"Language, Theodore. Though I too wondered at her body language."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," was the reply.
Perfect bait.

"What, did you slip a bit of the old love juice in her pumpkin brew?" and Theodore chuckled as he threw his tankard down.

"No, of course not. I – we sort of had sex. A few times." He faked mortification. "Not my usual target, i'll admit. But blood status sort of goes out the window when an attractive woman is eager."

Chuckling, Theodore agreed.

"It was once when she was ecstatic about the legislature…then a few more times after. I may have…'taken advantage' if you will. There were a few times she came to me wanting more potion and not a lot of money. A bargain, I suppose she enjoyed the first go. Maybe I obliged a bit too much for sexual favours, I'm not perfect. She seemed eager to do it all."

"My, my Draco. Is that why she knew you were here?"

"I did let slip that I came here sometimes. But she doesn't know where I live, I would always go to her home, kept mine a secret. Gets very lonely sometimes…."

He hoped his acting was on par, he could tell the pair was invested in his every lingering syllable.

"In any case, I felt it was due time to cut her off, because I couldn't have anyone so tied to the ministry close to me when I'm involved with you. I'll admit I got a bit paranoid. She figured out where I am often, I suppose it's not particularly difficult. I saw her at Arran Charlesby's party and knew it was the prime moment to give her my news, she was upset. I was afraid of what she'd do. Hence why I wanted to get out of this arrangement lest I have two parties wanting to get at me."
He pointed to the door, then to Sangrey.
"Don't want to get murdered from having a bit of a good time."

"You lead a very hectic life, Draco Malfoy. I never would've thought."
Raising an eyebrow, Nott was the one who seemed skeptical.

"What's so special about you, though, eh?"

"No idea. Perhaps it's the mystery of my absence that creates an intrigue. Maybe she has low expectations, which i'd assume already from dating Ronald Weasley, or i'm just good in bed."

"Yeah, maybe, but you're a pariah. Noone likes you. Everyone says the Malfoy family is – "

"Quiet."

Draco tilted his head, this statement the only thing tonight to sting. Theodore trailed off, apologized lightly, tough it was genuinine.
The comment made him all the more determined to succeed. That his dreadful leader was actually standing up for him was a hopeful promise.

"I don't know, Theodore. I've never been in love before."

"Do you mean to say?"
The nail in the coffin.

"Yes. She's in love with me. Told me so then, told me again tonight. Wanted to get me a job at the Ministry, like I'd ever take their charity after how they treated me in the press. No, I'm outraged at the request. Suffice to say that I don't think I shall ever speak with her again."

Leaving his counterparts in silence, he sipped his cup slowly, praying for results he desired.
And he got them.

"No, no, you must. Draco – you want more information…. you have it."' Salvatore laughed, genuinely, unequivocally jovial. "I'll tell you anything you want."