A/N: Hey everyone! So good news and bad news. Bad news is this chapter is very freaking late. But the good news is my excuse for that. My dad got his transplant! Everything went well, and now he has a couple weeks of bed rest, and I'll be home to help him. Hopefully I get enough free time to write more, yeah? Anyways, on with the show! -DeathDealerWolf

Chapter 4: All The Pawns are in Place

"So the little pieces of paper are the Muggle equivalent of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts?"

Hermione fought to keep a straight face. There was nothing funnier than an ignorant, curious Draco Malfoy. She never thought she would have to explain something as simple as money to anyone before, but apparently she was wrong.

"Yeah. The numbers on the notes determine how much they are worth. If I recall correctly, the current exchange rate between Pounds and Galleons is a bit less than five pounds to a Galleon." she explained.

"But they are just pieces of paper. Where is there value? Galleons and Sickles are made with gold and silver for a reason." Draco retorted.

Hermione sighed. Figured she would have to explain Muggle economics to him. Ron wouldn't have cared. At the thought of her best friend turned wanker, she bristled. At least Draco was intelligent enough to hold a conversation with, she thought callously.

"Well, since Muggles don't have magic, and can't reduce the raw weight of gold and silver, the government issues these bank notes, with each one representing their worth in gold and silver. We don't actually have it, but as long as we have the note, it is worth that amount. There is no legal contract binding notes to anyone, so the trade of the notes is good enough for most of the world. So if I pay with a ten pound note, I am giving someone else my share of gold that is worth ten pounds.

Draco nodded, then let his eyes wander up, as he ran some thoughts through his head. Hermione recognized that look, because she knew it was the one she had when she was thinking hard.

"Wait, so if one Galleon is worth five pounds…" Draco said slowly, still thinking. Hermione wondered where he was going with that train of thought.

"Yes?" she prodded. They were nearly at the tube station to catch a taxi back home. Draco had wanted to Apparate, but Hermione reminded him that he lacked a wand, much to his displeasure. As much as he would deny it, Hermione could tell he was fascinated with the Muggle world, and he was taking in as much as he could, looking at every sign, inspecting every building, and asking a million questions. Normally, Hermione grew agitated when she was asked numerous questions, but she found herself calm and collected. She surmised that it was due to the fact that when Harry and Ron asked he questions, it was because they were lazy and didn't want to do the homework that was assigned, and expected her to educate them in five minutes what she worked five hours on. Malfoy, on the other hand, did not have any way of learning about the Muggle world, and she felt that the more he learned, the more he would realize that they weren't that much different from himself. At least, she hoped.

"Never mind, Granger. I'd rather not discuss it in public." Draco muttered.

Hermione shrugged, and continued to walk in silence. She was content to let him ask questions at his own pace. Really, all she wanted was a bath, and a nap. Today had been extremely stressful, and she deserved some pampering and a lie down.

As they passed a local pub, a group of drunken football fans were standing near the door. One caught sight of them as they approached, and wolf whistled. "Ay, darlin'. Why don't you tell that wanker to piss off, and come have yourself a real man." he slurred to Hermione.

Draco's temper flared, but before he could retort, he heard Hermione scoff. "Please, if I wanted a real man, the first requirement would be that he was smart enough to not go for Arsenal." she said with a sass that Draco had never heard her use. He couldn't help but be impressed. Confused, but impressed, nonetheless.

The man glared at Draco, as his mates laughed themselves silly at his expense. Draco was about to open his mouth, but he felt himself being pulled by Hermione.

"Come on, hun. Let's get home." she said lovingly. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, grinning at her ruse.

"Of course, love." he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. As they walked away, he looked back at the man who heckled them, and shot him a wink. Sometimes, it felt good to gloat, even if it was over something made up.

"Arsenal?" he asked under his breath, as they were just out of earshot of the pub.

"Yeah, they are a popular football club." she explained simply. She didn't realize there was something wrong until she looked up at him a moment later. He was looking down at her with an eyebrow raised, asking her to elaborate.

"You don't know what football is?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"Granger, if it is anything Muggle, it was outlawed in my house. End of story. So, no. I have no clue what the bloody hell you are talking about." he grumbled. If there was one thing he hated more than being told what to do, it was not knowing something. And for someone of his education and intelligence, to be so completely ignorant of most of the world irked him.

Hermione grinned. "I'll have to educate you when we get back. But if anyone asks, you are a Manchester United fan."

Draco raised another eyebrow at her, and she grinned wider. "Why do I feel like I am being brainwashed?" he asked her.

She put on a face of fake shock. "Malfoy! I would never! I am simply leading you down the right path." she said, while giggling.

They reached the tube station, and Hermione arranged for a taxi cab to take them to her house. After a short drive, where Draco kept his eyes glued out the window, taking in everything, they arrived in front of an impressive looking home. Hermione paid the driver, and led Draco up the walk.

"It may not be as lavish as you are used to, but I think you'll be fine." she quipped. Draco chuckled softly, and followed her up the steps to her front door.

"I think there is more to you than you let on, Granger." he remarked, as she fumbled with her keys.

"Why do you say that, Malfoy?" she asked, distracted as she opened the door and let him in.

Draco took in the room quickly. Everything was organized perfectly, which only provided more evidence for his theory. He stepped into the living room, and smirked. There was one of those televisions against the wall, and a comfortable looking sofa, with a side table on one side that held a lamp, which Draco surmised had light countless books for Hermione. There were bookshelves all along one wall, and they were filled with novels and textbooks.

"Well?" Hermione asked, slightly nervous about what he thought.

With an explosiveness only a Seeker would have, he turned towards her, and pinned her against the wall, one hand on either side of her head, and he drew his face within a few centimeters of hers. She yelped, and flattened herself against the wall, unsure of what was going on.

"Where are you parents, Granger?" Draco asked, smirking.

Hermione's mouth opened slightly in confusion. "What? Out of the country, for their protection. What does that have to do with anything?" she asked angrily.

Draco's grin grew wider. "Oh, I remembered that. I meant where do they live?"

Hermione was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. "What do you mean? Here, of course."

Draco cocked an eyebrow again. "Really? What family has one sofa? What family would decorate the sitting room purely for books?"

Hermione stood a bit taller, now looking Draco in his face as he leaned down to her level. "What are you getting at, Malfoy?" she asked defensively.

Then Draco did something she never expected. He stuck his hand down her pants. More accurately, her back pocket, but Hermione jumped and squeaked all the same. "What the hell, Malfoy?!" she yelped, jumping away from him as he lowered his arms.

Draco leaned against the wall where she once occupied, smiling smugly, and he unfolded a piece of paper, which Hermione realized with horror was her receipt from the bank.

Draco scanned over it quickly, confirming what he thought he saw earlier. "Checking account balance is around twenty thousand pounds. But the more remarkable part is this savings balance of six and a half million…" Draco trailed off, feigning fascination in the piece of paper.

Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. "How did you know?" she asked quietly.

"I saw the receipt when she handed it to you." Draco said simply. "Seeker, remember?"

Hermione groaned, and threw herself on the sofa. "Why are you making a big deal out of this?" she asked, her face in her hands.

Draco stood behind her and leaned on the sofa. "I think the bigger question is why are you so defensive over it. Do you friends know you are a millionaire?" he asked.

Hermione's head shot up. "No. And they will never know. If you say anything, Malfoy, I swear to-"

"Woah woah woah!" Draco said, holding up his hands in defense. "I didn't say anything about telling. I was just curious as to why you would keep it a secret."

Hermione thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase her answer. "I just… I didn't want anyone to know because I want them to like me for me, and not how much money I have… Friends that are there just because you have wealth and connections aren't really friends, just leeches…"

She looked up at him, and immediately realized what she had said, and what it implied. Draco looked like he had been hit with a bludger to the gut. She could see that she had hit him harder and deeper than any curse or weapon could, and his eyes betrayed that pain.

Hermione racked her brain. She had to fix this."Malfoy, I'm not saying your-"

"Save it, Granger. You aren't saying anything I haven't thought of myself." he snapped, turning on heel and walking up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Hermione mulled over that for a moment. How terrible it would be to live with the idea that your friends weren't really your friends. With a sigh, she stood up and followed him.

.

.

With a pop, Blaise and Pansy appeared in a dark alley. Their wands finding no targets, they stowed them away, and exited.

"Where the hell are we supposed to go?" Pansy asked, looking around at the Muggle neighborhood. It was almost dusk, and while she wasn't as sheltered as Draco was in childhood, she still felt completely lost in the non-Magical world.

"I'm not sure." Blaise replied. "The note said that whoever it was would find us as long as we came here." He scratched his head, looking around for an idea. "Hey, there is a park over there. Maybe we can chill there until we figure something out."

Pansy tried to hide her grin. She loved parks, and Blaise knew it. "Sure, I guess." she said, trying to hide her excitement.

Blaise smirked, knowing full well Pansy's love for the outdoors. They walked together towards the center of the park, feeling the cool air nip at the skin. Pansy gave a little shiver, and Blaise immediately took off his overcoat, and placed it around her shoulders. She gave him one of her genuine smiles, and he grinned back at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

When they reached the swing set, Pansy gave a small, girlish squeal, and jumped away from Blaise and ran towards the nearest one. Laughing, Blaise followed her, and stood behind her as she positioned herself properly.

"Ready?" he asked her, grabbing both chains on either side of her.

She leaned back, looking at him upside down. "Uh huh." she answered, smiling like mad.

He laughed as he pulled her back and let her go. Man, he loved these moments. When the world didn't seem so fucked up. When the only thing that mattered was Pansy, and a swing set. He smiled as he continued to push Pansy on the swing, content with life.

"Well, well… What do we have here? Deserters?"

Both of them jumped, and turned to find the source of the voice. Pansy jumped off the swing, and ran to Blaise's side, wand drawn.

"Who is there?" Blaise asked, his voice cold and calm. "Show yourself!"

Both of them gasped as Severus Snape walked out from behind the nearest tree. "Playing hooky, I see. 20 points from Slytherin." he said with a hint of sarcasm. Sensing his two former students were at a loss for words, he motioned for them to follow him.

"P-Professor?" Blaise stammered out. "What is-"

He was cut off my Snape raising a finger to his lips. He motioned for them to follow him. Blaise and Pansy shared a look, but they didn't really have any other choice. They walked down the street, and they took it in. Broken streetlamps, trash littering the floor, and a general air of dinginess. Blaise and Pansy shared a look. What the hell were they doing here?

After a short walk, they reached an unremarkable brick building towards the end of the street. Snape waved his wand, and the front door opened. "After you." he said, motioning with his hand that they should enter.

Blaise and Pansy shared another look. Blaise shrugged, so Pansy entered, followed closely by Blaise and Snape. As they entered the dingy, abandoned looking hovel, Pansy turned towards Blaise and raised an eyebrow. Blaise shrugged. He didn't have a clue either.

Snape brushed past the both of them, and flicked his wand at the fireplace. At once, a fire started, but that wasn't the surprising part. Both Blaise and Pansy gasped as a wave of magic spread from the fire to cover the whole room. Everything the magic touched had been altered, changing the room to be more elegant, worthy of a Malfoy. Luscious leather arm chairs, marble floors, and impressive paintings were just the beginning of what they saw.

"Wow…" Pansy breathed.

Snape snorted. "Almost graduated, and still in the dark. Merlin, help us if our future is in your lot's hands."

.

.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Bugger off, Granger."

Despite his response, the door opened anyways. "Malfoy, I-"

"I told you to bugger off, Granger." Draco growled. The last thing he needed was pity from anyone. He just wanted to brood for a bit more, before swallowing his emotions as he had always done.

"I heard you. But I wanted to ask you something." Hermione responded softly.

Draco sighed, rubbing his hands over his temples. A million kilometers from Hogwarts, and she was still asking questions. Merlin, help him. He laid back down on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "What then?"

Hermione walked over slowly, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" she asked bluntly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. That came out of nowhere. "Either dead, or living as a recluse in a rebuilt Malfoy Manor. I doubt anyone would enjoy my company after this war, if we even survive it." he said simply.

"Oh..." Hermione said softly, looking down at her hands, suddenly very interested in her thumb.

"Why do you ask, Granger? Got a job opportunity?" Draco quipped.

Hermione let out a small chuckle. "No, not really..." she trailed off softly. There was an uncomfortable silence that followed. It made Draco uneasy.

"Well, what about you then, Granger?" Malfoy asked quietly, still staring at the ceiling.

Hermione sighed sadly. "I honestly have no bloody clue anymore..."

Draco sat up a bit, and shot her an interested look. She rarely cursed. This should be good. "I'm going to need more to go on than that."

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes, collecting her thoughts. After a moment, he opened them again. "I thought I knew what I wanted. Work at the Ministry, make a difference. Marry Ron, and have two and a half kids. You know, what everyone else wants..."

Draco gagged inwardly at the thought of marrying Weasel-Bee. "But?" he asked.

"But the Ministry is corrupted, Ron is an arsehole, and I don't even know if we'll be alive in ten years..." Hermione finished, deflating.

Draco chewed his tongue, thinking. His old self would have taken this opportunity to cut her deeper, and mock her, but he no longer held that hostility towards her. He could have blamed it on the curse binding them, but his opinions had been changing ever since he was given his mission by that bastard. So Draco did what his instinct told him to do. He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. She gave him a small smile, and leaned into his chest.

"I'm sorry you were but in this position, Draco." she said softly. "I'm sorry you were never given a choice..."

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He had a choice, didn't he? Did he choose to follow the Dark Lord? His Father? Did he choose the life of a Death Eater, or was that choice an illusion, created by a racist, psychotic father, and his delusional role model? He could have always chosen to stand up for himself, but he knew where that led. A dark dungeon, or a shallow grave. He shuddered at the thought. He liked himself too much to by a martyr.

"It's not your fault, Granger. I'm the one who couldn't say no." he replied.

Hermione scoffed at that. "Yeah, do what I say, or you're dead. What a choice..." she muttered.

Draco chuckled softly. They were more alike than he realized. He didn't reply, just wrapped his arms around her and let her dose off against his chest. Her body weight and warmth were comforting. Draco sighed softly. If this was the life of the other side, it wasn't terrible. Considerably better without Weasley, he thought to himself, smirking. He still had that smirk on his face as he drifted to sleep as well.

.

.

Hidden in the shadows in the upper corner of the room, a set of eyes watched the two rivals sleep in each other's arms. A smirk grew on a face that didn't exist a moment earlier. A being appeared, floating over the couple silently.

This was going to be easier than she thought. Mahalath already sensed the fondness the two shared for each other, but they both were too reserved to show it. Well, she would help that along nicely. Hovering over the two, she rubber her thumb and index finger together. A sparkling black dust rained down from her fingers, which was quickly absorbed by Hermione's skin. A small moan came from the sleeping Gryffindor, and Mahalath suppressed a laugh as Hermione cuddles into Draco more, pulling one of his legs between hers.

She repeated the process with the Malfoy boy, and watched as he tightened his hold on Hermione, and slid a hand slowly under her shirt. Mahalath grinned. She gave them just enough of her lust dust to get them intimate, but not enough to override their free will. That would come later, when she could guarantee they would remain uninterrupted for several hours. Killing a girl from sex was a long, slow process, but Mahalath wouldn't have it any other way. Killing the girl was the key to her freedom, and afterwards, she would milk the boy till he withered into nothing.

With a laugh, she disappeared into the Æther, leaving the two lovebirds to get intimate.

A/N: Again, sorry for the long wait. But now I'm stress free and will have more time to write! Yay! So drop a review. Let me know what you think. -DeathDealerWolf