Sidney Puckeridge is an actual student at Hogwarts during Harry's, Ron's, and Hermione's years at Hogwarts. But the characteristics are completely false. There is not much known about him besides that he is a Hufflepuff student that attended Hogwarts during the 1990s.

Thanks to everyone who's following this fic, favorited it, and reviewed!

fangirl4eva: I have literally no words to describe how ecstatic your review made me. My smile is so wide :) And my secret to writing is listening to music that reminds me of my story. I have to tell you, Blaise is a personal fave of mine too ;) You'll find out something a bit surprising about that Slytherin in question towards the end of the chapter. And your questions are answered in this chapter!

allisath: Yeah they do ooze a lot of sexual tension, don't they? I suppose if my rating isn't on M, I'd better change that ;)

erica: Thanks for your completely honest review. The first chapter is a bit confusing and I've been debating whether or not to go back and edit it, but I'm gonna leave it. I'm glad you like the rest of the chapters though :)

Chapter Seven: In which Hermione is caught

There were many women who would have fainted at the thought of being locked in a Malfoy's arms-the many depraved, slightly crazed women, of course. And Hermione was proud to say she was not one of them. However, she couldn't stop a shiver at the proximity of their bodies. Hermione knew that she could easily slip out of Malfoy's grasp, if she wanted. But for some reason she wanted to know what it was that Malfoy was meeting Daphne Greengrass for and why she looked so similar to Vane-or rather his wife. Before she could open her mouth to ask the question at the tip of her tongue, someone called out.

"Draco, where are you?" Daphne's lilting voice was precariously close to where Hermione and Malfoy stood. After a few minutes, they heard a muffled curse. "The nerve of him!"

When Malfoy was sure Daphne was far away, he eased his weight from Hermione. Muttering something unheard under his breath, Malfoy whispered angrily, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?"

Hermione frowned; quite sure he had cursed her in a number of languages. She turned her nose up at him and narrowed her eyes. "I fail to see how my presence here should be of any concern to you."

"It bloody well is my concern," he said forcefully, all but shaking her. His grey eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. "Following me around. Tell me, do you have some sort of twisted fetish with me?"

Hermione snorted loudly and tried shifting a bit so her back wasn't completely pressed against the wall. She was sure that there would be a bruise appearing later on tonight; her lower back was quite a sensitive spot. "Of course not, you delusional git. Now if you could just step back, maybe I'd have a bit of breathing space."

"And why would I do that? You're not leaving here until I get an answer," Malfoy spoke quietly, his eyes focusing on a spot above her shoulder.

There was a crashing sound in the distance and enraged shouts followed. From what Hermione could hear, one of the customers had bumped into a waiter and caused him to unbalance and dump a platter of exotic sauces on a snooty lady wearing an expensive silk designer dress. Hermione felt a tad pity towards the unfortunate waiter who would undoubtedly be blamed for the entire catastrophe and possibly lose his job.

However, she still hadn't answered Malfoy. She wondered if she should tell him the truth; tell him already what he knew or possibly suspected: she didn't trust him-not one bit. Which was why she was following him into a fancy French restaurant and masquerading as a waitress all so that she could find out his sinister plans. She shook her head; Hermione knew that even though there was a possibility Malfoy suspected the truth, she couldn't confirm it. That would only cause him to be more alert.

Sighing, Hermione looked him directly in the eye and told him. "I'm trying to help you."

Obviously this wasn't what the blonde had been expecting, his eyes widened. The strong grip he had on her slackened in utter astonishment. Hermione felt a pang of remorse; it seemed as if Malfoy was not used to hearing those words and most especially not from her. "Helping me?"

"I thought that," she swallowed. "I thought maybe the person that killed your wife would go after you as well." It made her almost ashamed at how easily the lie spilt from her lips.

"Me?" Clearly the idea had not occurred to him and he let out a surprised laugh. Glancing down at her, he let a slow amused smile slide across his features. "And you thought you would protect me? Bloody, stupidly brave Gryffindors."

Hermione blinked her eyes; she'd never seen Malfoy this way. Was he teasing her? She blinked again. There had to be something wrong. "Are you drunk?" she asked.

The blunt question drew another unwilling smirk from the blonde man. It was slightly unnerving to see Malfoy smile but not altogether unpleasant, Hermione decided. Maybe he wasn't so bad. She remembered the man who had stood in the ballroom across from her just the other day; he was cold and entirely closed off, reminding her almost eerily of Lucius Malfoy. Looking into the eyes of the man who stood in front of her, she realized there were many layers to Draco Malfoy. He was, simply put, an enigma. She'd have to tread carefully; he was no longer the ignorant, spoiled little bully from their childhood days at Hogwarts. Now he was a cunning, sly, and powerful young man who seemed to have many secrets.

There was an intake of breath and clearing of throat signaling Hermione's and Malfoy's attention to the edge of the divider where Hermione's boss stood flustered. He gaped at the closeness of the two, his eyes widening in an impression of a fish. Malfoy extracted himself from Hermione; the latter cursing herself for not removing herself from his proximity before.

"Monsieur Malfoy, I apologize," spluttered the man, wringing his hands frantically. "She eez a new employee. I must have you know we here at Chez Ingrid do not condone zeez sort of behavior. I must apologize profusely." His accent was pronounced in his hurry to amend for Hermione's lapse in behavior.

Malfoy just waved his hand, looking highly amused with the entire situation while Hermione scowled furiously. The Frenchman had not bothered to listen to her side of the story and he ushered her into the kitchen before him. When they were finally inside the sanctuary, he spun around and looked at Hermione for the first time. In a strange struck of thought, she realized she didn't know her boss's name.

"Would you like to explain?" He emphasized the last word.

Oh so now he wants to hear what I have to say? Hermione huffed angrily. "Mister Malfoy assaulted me as I was about to return with his meal. He pinned me against the wall and refused to let me budge."

The Frenchman muttered an oath and something sounding very much 'uncivilized Englishman'. "And why would 'e do that, mademoiselle?"

"I believe he mistook me for someone else," Hermione mumbled. She wondered if the man would take any sort of action against Malfoy for assaulting an employee of his restaurant.

"Well, next time 'e comes, I vill not allow you to serve 'im." Hermione's boss sounded sure and it sounded like he partially blamed her for Malfoy's behavior. "Whatever business you may have with him must be outside and far away from zee doors of my establishment, understood?"

Hermione nodded mutely, her eyes flashing with suppressed irritation. She made a promise to herself she would never step foot inside this restaurant as a customer-nor as an employee. Hopefully the real Jane wouldn't bare the repercussions of Hermione's conduct. Thankfully when her shift ended an hour later (her boss had made her serve tables at the other end of the restaurant), she was exhausted and Malfoy was nowhere in sight. When Hermione stepped out she was a bit pleased to know that the rain had let up. There were too many Muggles in the surrounding streets to Apparate back to the hotel, so Hermione was forced to walk several blocks until she remembered the way she'd come.

Once inside the magical sanctuary of the hotel, Hermione went straight up to her room. Her stomach was growling slightly, but she didn't have the energy to dine with Malfoy or Vane. Without changing out of her damp clothes, Hermione flopped on the bed.

When she came to, there was a plate of wonderful smelling food making her stomach give a roaring sound of approval.

"You might want to eat that before your stomach gets any louder." Blaise was standing in the doorway, a grin lighting up his features. His dark hair was dripping water and he was dressed in a loose white shirt and black slacks.

Smiling sheepishly, Hermione picked up the plate and brushed past Blaise. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just thought you might be hungry after all that sneaking around you did." He followed her into the living area where she sat at a round table. Blaise settled himself into an armchair by the fire.

"I guess I've been caught," Hermione admitted with another sheepish smile. The steak was slightly cold but the hot gravy made up for it. She almost moaned out loud. It'd been a mistake to go to bed without having anything to eat, Hermione realized. "Malfoy told you?"

Blaise nodded, his brown eyes focused on the glow of the fire. "But he didn't say why. So have you found out anything?"

Hermione wondered if Blaise knew what was going through her head. Even though the Slytherin was one of her close friends, he was still Malfoy's mate. And they had known each other longer. She couldn't tell him about her worries concerning Malfoy. But perhaps Blaise might reveal a few of Malfoy's secrets. "Nothing really. He was just on a date, I think."

The statement quirked the correct surprise from Blaise Hermione had suspected it would. "On a date? Malfoy? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. She was almost finished with her dinner. "I thought I recognized her. She seemed pretty familiar."

"Describe her," Blaise suggested with a wave of his hand. "She might have gone to Hogwarts."

"Actually she reminded me of Daphne Greengrass," Hermione stated. She pushed her plate to the side. Then remembering there were house-elves employed in the hotel, she reminded herself to clean it herself later. Even if S.P.E.W. had not been a success, Hermione was sure that one day it would garner the proper attention and house-elves would be granted their freedom. Now all she could do was try to make an effort to lessen their workload. Perhaps she might have a word with the owner of the hotel. Hermione only hoped Malfoy would listen to reason. And maybe if she succeeded with freeing the house-elves in the hotel, then she could convince Malfoy to free any other house-elves in his employment and give them proper pay. Her train of thought was interrupted by Blaise.

"Daphne? I wonder what she's doing in France," Blaise muttered. He ran a hand through his still wet hair.

"She was on a date with Malfoy," Hermione pointed out.

"On a date?" Blaise looked at the bushy-haired woman incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous. Malfoy wouldn't go out with his sister-in-law!"

"Sister-in-law?" Hermione raised a brow. Daphne had a sister? Although the brunette realized she shouldn't be too surprised. After all, there wasn't much she knew about the pretty former Slytherin girl.

Blaise frowned at Hermione. "You did that deliberately."

Hermione gave him a placating smile. "I don't know why you're so insistent on keeping the identity of Malfoy's wife such a secret. For that matter, I wonder why Malfoy is keeping this whole thing under wraps. It just makes no sense." She realized she was revealing a few of her suspicions to Blaise, but Hermione needed answers.

The dark-skinned Italian shook his head. "There's a lot to this you don't understand. Heck, I don't even understand. And I was there for most of it. Who knows the things Malfoy has running through his mind?"

"Maybe I could help," Hermione offered. But she had spoken too soon and watched in dismay as Blaise stiffened and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that to the bastard. He trusted me with enough and I can't betray that."

While Hermione respected the bond the former Slytherins had, she groaned in frustration. Secrets, secrets, secrets. She thought that should instead be the Slytherins motto. They were such a secretive and distrustful bunch. Quickly she amended the thought. After leaving Hogwarts, Hermione realized how the House rivalry at Hogwarts influenced how she regarded people outside of school. It was a terrible thing to label the entire House of Slytherins as a distrustful and dark lot. But it happened too often. After all, Ron had even said that Slytherins were well-known to be dark wizards. And though she was loath to admit it, whenever she met any other wizard or witch she immediately wondered what House they had been in if they'd gone to Hogwarts. It was so easy to just go by the traits assigned by each House. But after meeting and becoming friends with Blaise, Hermione had realized that it was completely stupid to base people on the House they were in. And she was glad that she had the friendship of Blaise.

They'd met during their seventh year at Hogwarts. There had been very few seventh-year Slytherins at Hogwarts that year. It was Headmistress McGonagall who had surprisingly announced that there would be more events to promote Inter-House unity, especially with the Slytherins who were often excluded by the other three Houses. Many students were reluctant in the beginning few months and there were more than a few scuffles that had broken out through the course of the year. Hermione would never forget her astonishment when she'd found out that Head Boy was a Slytherin, Theodore Nott. She supposed it was another of Professor McGonagall's attempts at Inter-House unity. Theodore Nott never hung out in any groups, but Hermione remembered he had sniggered alongside Malfoy when she'd revealed she was a Muggle-born to Professor Slughorn. Since then she hadn't held a positive opinion of the tall, thin blonde. However, during their seventh year he had barely said a word to her more than was required and kept to himself most of the time.

It had been halfway through the year when Hermione met Blaise-or rather spoke to him for the first time. She'd had a few classes with him, like Potions and Transfiguration.

Hermione sat in the back of the library, within her barricade of books. The towers of books were partially due to her immense studies but mainly to keep the younger students of Hogwarts at bay. Ever since she had stepped foot inside the castles, Hermione had been swarmed by masses of students who had been completely enamored of her efforts during the war. At first, she'd been flattered by the compliments, attention, and the occasional gifts, letters, and poetry; but after she'd nearly missed being late to her Ancient Runes class, it'd only gotten worse.

It was late in the afternoon and Hermione was completely immersed in her schoolwork. Even if she had been paying attention, she couldn't have done anything to stop what was about to happen next.

There was a loud crash and three of Hermione's towers of books toppled to the ground, scattering books in all directions. She let out a sound of dismay. The culprit was a dark-skinned Italian who lay on the ground glaring angrily at another student who stood over him, a Hufflepuff Hermione had seen around occasionally. With a furious growl, the Slytherin brandished his wand and was about to send a hex towards the Hufflepuff when Madam Pince appeared glowering darkly.

"GET OUT! GET OUT! ALL THREE OF YOU, OUT! NOW!"

Hermione barely had time to pack her things before Madam Pince waved her wand and a few of Hermione's belongings started chasing her, the dark-skinned student, and the Hufflepuff out of the library. The Hufflepuff smiled smugly at the Slytherin and walked off. Hermione realized that the Slytherin was Blaise Zabini, a friend of Malfoy's.

"How wonderful," Hermione muttered. "I should punish the both of you for that."

Blaise sneered at her, surprising Hermione with his menace. "Then why don't you?"

Hermione stared at him and shook her head. "Alright. Detention for you then, Zabini." She couldn't believe the Slytherin was practically asking for her to punish him.

"What about that bloody arse Hufflepuff?" he asked viciously. "Bloody Gryffindors and their meddling."

"Just so you know, I am Head Girl," Hermione snapped. "I can have you serving detention for the rest of the year."

"Blatant abuse of your power, eh? Should have known even the pure are quite often sullied." The way Blaise Zabini said it made her cringe. Even though he hadn't said the word Mudblood, she knew it was implied. And it infuriated Hermione.

"Silencio," Hermione muttered. "Haven't you heard? If you don't have anything nice or at least decent to say then don't say it at all. I'll save you the trouble of getting yourself into further forms of punishment."

She honestly didn't care whether Blaise Zabini got himself into any more trouble, but the only thing was that she would have to supervise his detentions. So she was quite hesitant in adding on more punishment. Though taking twenty points from Slytherin might be better. Hermione did that precisely and sent Zabini on his way, the Silencio still intact. She wondered why the Italian was so horrid to her; as far as she knew, she hadn't done anything to him in the slightest. Although being a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born would warrant the hatred of anyone from Slytherin, so Hermione didn't pay any more attention to Zabini's insults and behavior.

Friday came faster than Hermione wanted and exactly ten minutes before five she made her way down to the Detention Chamber. Usually a teacher would handle the detentions, but it was an unusual year and Professor McGonagall trusted Hermione to do what was required.

Despite Zabini's earlier protests, Hermione had indeed placed the Hufflepuff student in detention. Sidney Puckeridge was a wide, beefy wizard that had a slightly pinched face. He was also quite loud and Hermione had to threaten him with another detention to get him to quiet. Zabini arrived right on time, ignored Hermione, and took a seat that was farthest away from Puckeridge and Hermione.

The two students were assigned to clean the Christmas decorations. During the Christmas celebrations, someone had managed to sneak in a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products and wreaked havoc during the festivities. Professor McGonagall had been white-faced and her lips had thinned. Suffice to say the student who caused the mayhem was satisfactorily dealt with.

Hermione kept an eye on the two to make sure they didn't cause any trouble. Puckeridge was dismissed at eight, but because of Zabini's outburst during his encounter with Hermione he was delayed. The witch didn't miss the dark glares Zabini continuously sent her way. Initially the looks amused her, but then they grew to be annoying. Finally, she confronted the Slytherin and things had gotten out of hand. It was lucky no teachers or even Filch had caught them, even though Nearly Headless Nick floated by.

By the time Zabini's detention came to an end, the room was a disorderly mess. Both students were out of breath and to Hermione's slight pleasure she noticed Zabini was sporting a few bruises himself. Zabini stared at Hermione apprehensively, as if waiting for her to make the next move. But Hermione had had enough with this entire nonsense. She was going to set Zabini straight.