Chapter 9

A HAT TRICK FOR HERMIONE GRANGER?

The hanger-on of the Golden Trio, the rather plain Hermione Granger, does it again –and this time with none other than our brave, newfound hero, Draco Malfoy.

Ms. Granger, famously known for her previous relationships with both The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, as well as his courageous best friend, Ron Weasley, appears to have sunk her claws into the sole heir of the immense Malfoy fortune.

The pair were spotted early yesterday afternoon, strolling the streets of Diagon Alley before joining their close friend, Mr. Potter, for a quiet lunch.

(Story continued on page 4)

"What garbage," Hermione muttered angrily, snapping the pages of the Daily Prophet shut. In her usual, vitriolic style, Rita Skeeter had twisted their interactions into something more. How this woman was still allowed to write for the newspaper was beyond Hermione's comprehension. The photo splashed across the front page of the Prophet caused her to bite into her toast a mite too hard, her annoyance increasing as crumbs flew across her blouse. She couldn't fault the photographer's impeccable timing. They had captured the moment Hermione had leaned into Draco to complain about the paparazzi, and he had brought his own head closer to hers, a smile playing around his lips. Watching the moment replay over and over again, Hermione had to admit that it did seem…oddly intimate.

Great.

She finished the last of her toast and gave a quick wave of her wand, clearing out all the dishes. She was far too agitated to clean up the muggle way. A distinct pop alerted her to someone's presence outside. Logically, she knew that the only other person privy to the location of the safe house was Kingsley Shacklebolt. That didn't stop her from keeping her wand at the ready as she approached the front door. She opened the door just as the visitor had raised his hand to knock.

"Oh, Hermione! Good morning! Mind putting that wand away?"

"Kingsley, I wasn't expecting you." Hermione greeted the Minister with a warm hug and tucked away her wand. "Come on in. Would you like something to drink?" she asked, as she led him towards the living room.

"No, no, I'm quite alright, thank you. Is Draco ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"I'll be accompanying him to…certain appointments today. I take it that he didn't mention anything to you?"

"Well, we aren't exactly on an exchanging-schedules basis." Hermione muttered. "And I don't care where he goes, provided that I'm no longer the one accompanying him."

"I take it you've read today's Daily Prophet?" Kingsley asked, a sliver of apology colouring his tone.

"Is there anyone in Wizarding Britain who hasn't?"

"Hermione, I'm so-"

Hermione held up a hand. "There's nothing you could have done, Kingsley. Skeeter is a piece of work, but I've endured worse. I should've squashed her when I had the chance." The last part was uttered under her breath. "I wanted to thank you, by the way. For the…package."

Kingsley nodded in acknowledgment.

"You were right about the enchantments. Rendered the files rather useless."

"Hmm," Kingsley acquiesced. "I was hoping you'd be able to learn something from them. Anything to set your mind at ease."

"Unfortunately, nothing so far." She picked up a parchment from the file and looked over it impassively. Blurry passages swam on the page. "I'll keep digging."

Kingsley quickly checked his watch. "Would you mind letting Draco know I'm here? We must get going."

"No need for that, Shacklebolt."

Hermione spun around. He hadn't lost any of his stealth, she noted drily. He was dressed in smart, black robes, his face was clear of any stubble and his hair was slicked back in a style that reminded her of his Hogwarts days. He looked…austere. He glanced at her and nodded in greeting, before walking towards Kingsley and grasping his hand in a firm shake. Hermione felt her face redden. She wondered if he'd read the rubbish in the Daily Prophet.

"Shall we, then?" Kingsley asked.

Draco nodded. A quick hug from Kingsley and the two men made their way to the Apparition point, just outside the safe house. Less than a minute later, they were gone.

Hermione walked up to the fireplace and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. In a moment, she found herself in her own living room.

"Ginny!" She called out, covering her eyes. "Let me know if you're here…and decent."

She heard her friend's laughter and approaching footsteps. "I'm alone and decent, 'Mione. Would you like some breakfast?"

Hermione gave her friend a quick hug and followed her into the kitchen. "No, I ate. And even if I hadn't, I don't have much of an appetite right now."

Ginny surveyed her morose expression sympathetically. "I take it you've read today's Daily Prophet?"

"Seriously, Gin, if I ever lay my eyes on that vile woman, so help me Merlin, I may just end up in Azkaban!" she responded hotly, eyes flashing with ire. "And the fact that the Prophet just continues to publish that utter hogwash!"

Ginny sighed. "You know how it is…whatever drives up the sales. Everyone knows Rita Skeeter plays fast and loose with the truth, anyway."

Hermione was tempted to remind the younger witch that it hadn't stopped her mother from all but shunning her back during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but she wisely held her tongue. Molly Weasley was a fierce woman who protected her own at all costs…and despite everything, she considered Hermione to be one of her own as well.

"So what brings you here this morning?" Ginny asked. "Tired of babysitting the Malfoy heir?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was tired merely at the thought of it. Doing it is much harder."

"How is it between the two of you? Any more revelations?"

"Revelations?"

"You know, any more secret enchanted jewellery? Or perhaps he's just come out and openly declared his love for you?"

Hermione laughed at that. "Well, Gin, your imagination sure is creative."

"Is it, though? Ginny questioned. "You can't tell me that being in close quarters with him these past few days hasn't had any impact whatsoever. Harry even mentioned that the two of you seemed…different than what he expected."

Oh, Harry, the gossip! Hermione would kill him. "I'm not saying it hasn't had an impact. I'm just saying that it's not what you think."

"Really? So absolutely nothing?" Ginny's gaze pierced her own and for a moment, Hermione thanked the stars that her Occlumency skills, while not perfect, were quite strong.

"We may have…kissed." Hermione blushed. "Once."

The squeal Ginny emitted was so shrill, Hermione thought it a wonder that her ears didn't immediately bleed. "Hermione! I can't believe you didn't tell me. Not to say that I'm surprised, of course. If anything, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"Seriously, Ginny, stop. I don't know where you're getting your crazy ideas from but they need to stop. It was just a heat of the moment thing. It was right after he told me about how he had to curse muggleborns, such as myself."

Ginny's expression turned more sombre at that. She placed a hand over Hermione's and gave it a light squeeze. "Unfortunately, that was to be expected. He had to play the part of a convincing Death Eater, after all."

"That's the thing, Gin. I don't think he was merely playing the part. I think he just was one –and he happened to be passing information along to us." She turned her head away from Ginny. The sad expression in the younger witch's eyes brought involuntary tears to her own.

"Is there really a difference?" Ginny asked, her voice so soft that Hermione had to strain to hear. "He did what he had to do to survive. I don't think Voldemort would have let him live if he shied away from the dirty work."

"He said he helped us for selfish reasons."

"Do we know what those reasons are?"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to make any assumptions.

"Then we can't really judge him fairly, now can we?"

Hermione sniffed in amusement. "Ginny, I can't believe we're sitting here and you're trying to convince me that Draco Malfoy is a good guy. That is just bizarre."

"I'm not saying that he's a good guy. I'm just saying that he might not be one of the bad ones. He's here because Kingsley, and in some way, Harry, believe that he deserves to be here. That must mean that no matter what he did out there as a Death Eater, he must have done at least one substantial good deed. At least one. And if it's big enough to have him walk free amongst us, then I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Then why am I finding it so hard?"

Ginny smirked. "Because you're trying to get into his pants?"

Hermione shot her a murderous glare before swatting her lightly with a spoon. Ginny jerked away from the playful attack, laughing.

"Anyway," she continued, through her laughter. "I can't wait to see the two of you tomorrow night."

"And that's another thing," Hermione fumed. "I can't believe Harry invited him! Ron's going to have a conniption."

"Like I said, I can't wait."


Hermione spent the rest of the day with Ginny, who didn't have to go in to work until the evening.

'We're entertaining some international Quidditch players from Mexico –they haven't adjusted to the time difference yet,' Ginny had explained. Hermione wondered why they hadn't taken any one of the tens of common potions available to combat this, but didn't pursue the subject.

They walked around Diagon Alley, stopping by their usual shops before settling down for lunch at a hole-in-the wall restaurant in muggle London. This was one of her and Ginny's favourite thing to do since Hermione had introduced her to a hidden-away Thai restaurant and the younger witch had immediately fallen in love. They had made it a point to try out the most inconspicuous places in search of the best foods.

"How're things with you and Harry, then?" Hermione asked, once they had ordered their meals.

Ginny shrugged. "We talked about some things."

"And?"

Ginny sighed and her shoulders slumped slightly. "I don't know. Sometimes I just feel like it's a lot to take in. Being with Harry Potter. The Harry Potter."

"Ginny…" Hermione trailed off, unsure of what to say. If Ginny had an insecure side, she had never shown it before.

"I know, I'm probably just being stupid. I just –I don't know –feel as though I'm holding him back?"

"What?" Ginny was right, Hermione thought. She was being stupid. "What are you on about? Having been one of Harry's best friends for the past ten year, I can tell you on good authority and with the utmost certainty that Harry Potter would be a total loser without you by his side."

Ginny's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Unless," Hermione continued perceptively, "it's the other way around?"

The flash of pain in the redhead's eyes confirmed Hermione's suspicions. Her heart dropped as her mind wandered to the last conversation she had had with Harry. It was saddening to know that two of her closest friends felt so differently. That was just the nature of relationships, she supposed.

"Ginny," she began, comfortingly. "If that's how you feel, there's nothing really wrong with that. You're both young and you've been through a lot. Some would say that it's natural to feel the way you do. You both need a chance to grow, to discover yourselves."

Ginny blinked back tears. "But…it's Harry. He's been the love of my life for as long as I can remember. I feel like I'm betraying him by feeling this way. Like it's not the right thing to do."

Hermione leapt out of her seat and engulfed Ginny in a hug. "Gin, you once told me that there's no 'right thing'. You also told me that you have to follow your heart and your gut. Both you and Harry are so dear to me, the last thing I'd want is for you to not be together. But I also want both of you to be happy."

Ginny leant into her embrace and gave out a shaky breath of relief. "Thank you, 'Mione. I've been so scared to actually put my feelings into words for so long. This really helps."

"Anytime," Hermione smiled into Ginny's hair and gave her shoulders a last squeeze before returning to her seat.

Their food arrived at that moment, and their conversation turned to lighter topics. By the time they worked their way through their desserts, Ginny was in decidedly higher spirits.

"Mm, that was so good!" Ginny proclaimed, patting her belly. "We have to come back to this place."

Hermione not-so-covertly unbuttoned the top button of her jeans. "I don't think I can ever eat again!" she groaned, dropping her head back in her chair.

"Pshh," Ginny waved dismissively. "That's what you say every time." She checked her watch. "Fancy grabbing a pint before we head home?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? In the middle of the afternoon?"

Ginny shrugged. "Do you have anything better to do? Missing Malfoy already?"

"He's not even home right now."

"Really? Where is he?"

"I don't know why everyone thinks I would know his plans for the day," Hermione grumbled. "I have no clue. He just left with Kingsley for certain appointments."

"Great. No excuse for you to not join me then. Come on, let's get going."

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself sitting at a Wizarding pub, nursing a mug of Butterbeer. She had only ordered one to keep Ginny company, but she hadn't been lying when she'd said she was full. She doubted that she'd make it through even half the Butterbeer.

She had been left alone for a couple of minutes while Ginny visited the ladies' room. Lost in thought over the events of the day, she was startled when a vaguely familiar voice greeted her.

"Hello, Granger."

She jumped and swivelled around in her seat. She blinked at the man standing in front of her, trying to place him. "Zabini?"

"The one and the same." He smiled. "I must admit, you're the last person I expected to find in a pub drinking Butterbeer in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday."

"I'm surprised that you have any expectations of me at all, considering that we didn't really know each other at Hogwarts."

"Touché," he responded, his smile now a full-blown grin. "Allow me to remedy that immediately." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. My name is Blaise Zabini."

In spite of herself, Hermione smiled in response and took his hand. It was hard to resist his boyish charm. "Hermione Granger. The pleasure is all mine."

"Are you here alone, Hermione?"

"No, I'm with –"

"She's with me." Ginny walked up to her seat and examined Blaise with interest. "Zabini. Fancy seeing you here."

"Ginevra. It's been a while."

"It has, indeed. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

"Our family moved to Italy right before the war. I was there for a year or so, then spent some time in Greece and now I'm back in London. Couldn't stay away for too long."

"That would explain the tan," Ginny commented drily.

"Would you like to join us?" Hermione asked, mainly to be polite. It was getting awkward, having him standing around while they were seated. Blaise, however, obliged only too willingly.

He was a great conversationalist, Hermione conceded. They talked about Hogwarts, the war, Quidditch (Hermione was more than happy to stay out of that particular topic), holiday destinations, food and the future. An hour went by before she realized it, and when she did, she jumped out of her seat in a hurry.

"I hate to cut this short," she said, truly meaning it, "but I have to head back. I haven't gotten any work done today."

"I suppose I should be heading home too." Ginny conceded. "Blaise, it was lovely seeing you again. Keep in touch."

"Of course." He gave the two witches another winning smile and stopped them as they reached for their purses. "Ladies, please. This round's on me."

"Blaise, I couldn't possibly –" Hermione began in protest.

"You can get the next one," he cut her off and winked. He dropped a few Galleons on the table and walked them to the nearest Apparition point.

Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug and a wave to Blaise, before she Apparated back to the safe house. She hummed slightly as she entered through the front door. Despite the disastrous start to the day, she had had a good time during the course of it. She had definitely needed the break from the mental stress over the past couple of weeks.

She set her shopping bags by the stairs and ventured into the living room. She came to an abrupt stop and her heart slammed into her throat as she came upon the sight of one visibly angry –no, furious –Draco Malfoy reading a very recognisable parchment. The one from his file.

Oh no.

The silence was deafening. She knew he had registered her presence. The tightening of his jaw had given it away.

"Malfoy." She hated how breathy her voice sounded.

He didn't look at her.

"It's not what it –" Hermione tried again before cutting herself off. It was exactly what it looked like. There was no other explanation for it, and Hermione wasn't going to insult his intelligence by pretending otherwise.

"Looks like?" he finished for her, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice. "These aren't my confidential files, and you aren't trying to determine who I am and what I've done?"

Hermione swallowed. "Is that so wrong?"

He turned his gaze on her then, and she was shocked at what she saw there. It wasn't just the anger, which she had expected. It was something else, almost akin to hurt.

Betrayal.

He huffed and with a small, mocking smile said, "No, I suppose it's not wrong. After all, why should a Death Eater be afforded any privacy? Right? That right is reserved for the ones who openly fought with the Light side, correct?"

Hermione frowned at his insinuation. "No, that's not it. That's not it at all. I'll admit, I want to know what you've done. I want to know if it's…something I can live with."

"Then why not just bloody ask?" Draco hissed, storming up to her. "Why the fuck would you have my personal files pulled out?"

"Would you tell me, if I asked?" Hermione challenged.

"I was the one who fucking offered to talk about it as soon as I arrived, Granger."

"That doesn't mean you'd tell me the truth."

"Then you'd have to buy a sodding clue, Granger, and realize that maybe, maybe, I'm not ready to talk about it?"

"What do you want me to do, Malfoy?" Hermione cried in exasperation. "I don't know what you want from me, I don't know how to be around you. I don't know why you kissed me the other night and I don't know why you kissed me three years ago. And I sure as hell can't figure out any of your cryptic messages. So what would you have me do?"

Draco closed his eyes and ran one hand over his face. Suddenly, it was as though all the rage had left his body and was replaced with a deep sense of fatigue. His eyes were a stormy grey when he reopened them.

"I don't know, Granger. I just –don't fucking know."


A/N: Hello, everyone! Hope you've all had a great start to the new year :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter -please leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!