Beta love to SaintDionysus!

Viktor Krum had not changed a bit. He had the same chronically unpleasant demeanor, and his eyebrows were still too thick. When he walked, he still had the grace of a duck wearing ankle weights. The only thing that had changed was everything; the circumstances, the power dynamics, the conditions.

Draco loathed breathing the same oxygen as him. That, at least, had not changed.

"Can I offer you refreshments?"

"No."

Internally, Draco nearly combusted with the desire to roll his eyes. The man couldn't even be bothered to say, "No, thank you." It was like he had been raised by wolves.

Not that Draco could talk, having been raised by snakes.

"Excellent. If it's all the same to you, I say we just skip over the niceties."

"Yes."

"For whatever reason, you want to spy on the Order. And you want to do it from the inside because you think that going to a ball with Hermione Granger ten years ago gives you some sort of special insight."

His facial muscles had yet to move. Draco was eerily reminded of Snape. "It was more than that. Hermione and I were very fond of each other."

"Congratulations. You've finally learned to pronounce Her name properly." Draco squeezed the stress ball he kept in his desk for when he had to speak with a loathsome individual. "You say you were very fond of Her, and yet you want to betray Her. Why?"

Still no expression. Draco didn't like that. He preferred his opponents transparent as well as dull-witted. Krum, sadly, only fit into the latter camp. "I was led to believe that Slytherins such as yourself understood the importance of self-preservation. Is it not better to be on the winning side?" '

His English at least had gotten better. "But why infiltrate? You could join the 'winning side' without risking your life. You wouldn't have to live in some shithole bunker or wherever the rebels are camped out these days."

"But this is how I will be useful to you. Hermione will trust me."

"Will She?" Draco twirled the ball in his hands. "I'm skeptical of that."

"Why?"

"Put yourself in the Order's position. All of a sudden, Viktor Krum comes crawling out from his Bulgarian cave and wants to 'help.' They haven't heard from you since the war. They don't know who you are anymore. And you definitely don't know them. Do you really think they'll just accept you?"

The Bulgarian's face warmed slightly. Draco liked this even less. "Hermione is very trusting."

"She was very trusting. But, She's not a fourteen-year-old, bleeding-heart Gryffindor anymore. Now She's a battle-hardened refugee who'd probably sooner put a knife to your throat than shake your hand. She's seen her friends die. She's killed people. Your little library dates don't carry very much weight anymore."

Krum's eyes held a mild twinkle of mischief. "There was a time you were very fond of her yourself."

Draco scoffed. So Krum wanted to stir up shit? "I was a randy teenager who had just discovered Mudblood porn. I was fond of the idea of bending Her over a flat surface." The words were disgusting in his mouth. "You do realize that if the Order finds out that you're double-crossing them, they won't hesitate to kill you?"

"I do."

"And I'm including Hermione Granger in that. I cannot impress upon you enough that She is a far cry from the little slip in pretty dress robes you remember. She's a killer. And you'd do well not to underestimate Her."

"I will be careful."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle darkly. "Just what are your plans precisely, if you don't mind me asking? Are you actually planning to seduce Her? Because you know She's rumored to be warming the bed of their fearless leader, Harry Potter?" As if he needed fucking reminding.

Krum shrugged. "Boyfriends can be forgotten."

As if he needed fucking reminding. "We're not going to pay you to get laid. We'll pay you to get information. So, if you're just looking for a quick fuck, then perhaps you should have gone straight to the Order and pledged your loyalty to them in earnest."

"Still jealous?"

Draco's face went still. He took a long moment to stare the older man in the face. "Not at all. My position on that front is unchanged. I still believe that your intentions with Hermione Granger were unbefitting to your blood status. A tumble in a broom closet is one thing, but you just had to put the Mudblood on your arm and parade Her around like She was one of us, didn't you?" His voiced raised and he could almost hear his father's voice as the words left his lips. "And now you're here ready to put your life on the line so you can have a go at Her. So, forgive me if I do not leap at the opportunity to put you on Ministry payroll." The speech left foul residue on his tongue. He daren't pause to consider the hypocrisy of the words, empty as they were. He'd rather just pretend he was someone else for a moment.

"You will have my full loyalty. I will even take the Vow if it will convince you."

I'd rather kill you myself. "That won't be necessary."

"Then what will it take to prove to you that I will not betray you?"

Draco had already made his mind up before meeting with him that he would accept his loyalty, such as it was, on behalf of the Ministry. Whether or not Krum kept his promise was of little concern to him. The Order would know every detail of the arrangement, and Krum would report directly to him. Eventually, Draco would dispose of him. But for now, it was important for Draco to play the precocious, jaded young Death Eater. "If I were you, I'd walk out that door and pretend that we never had this conversation?"

"Why is that?" "Because there are too many ways for you to fuck up and too few ways for you to succeed. If the Order catches you, you're done. They'll kill you. If you betray the Ministry, I'll kill you. Frankly, I don't see many ways for you to come out of this alive."

"I will not change my mind, Malfoy."

A smug grin spread across his handsome face. "If we're to be friends, you will refer to me as 'Lieutenant Malfoy.' Or 'sir.'"

"That does not sound very friendly to me."

Oh. Somebody thinks he's got swagger. "That's because we're not friends, are we, Krum? I might accept your offer, but I don't like you. And don't think for a minute if you find yourself in trouble, that I'll risk anybody else's skin helping you. If they catch you and kill you, it's no matter to me."

"I understand." Seeing Draco's eyebrow raised in expectation, he added, "Sir."

Draco chuckled darkly. "I do believe I've said everything possible to try to dissuade you. Seeing as you're too thick to take my sage advice, I suppose I have no choice but to welcome you to the team."

They didn't even bother to shake hands. It was too hypocritical even for them.

This memory was hazy.

It was Theo's birthday, so everyone in Slytherin had gotten rip-roaring pissed, and at some point, Draco had become bored by the confines of the dungeons. The people. The conversations.

It was always the same.

Pansy would sit in his lap and purr sweet filth into his ear. Her squirming would leave him, against his will, half-hard. He'd push her off his lap, utterly disgusted with his treacherous body. She'd be butthurt and divert her attention to literally anyone else in a bid to incite his jealousy, which of course, never worked.

Tonight, she couldn't even get in his lap before he spurned her advances. And no, fuck you very much, Montague, you wanker, he was not bent. She was just the wrong girl.

He needed a walk.

At some point, wandering around the corridor, he stumbled across someone. A very pretty, often annoying someone to whom he longed to give many orgasms.

"Granger." He smirked up to his hairline in a failed attempt to look smooth. "Come here often?"

Her nose scrunched up. It was cute. "Oh no. You're drunk."

"You're breaking curfew."

"I needed a walk."

"That makes two of us." He stumbled over to where she stood against the wall. He might have imagined it, but her chest seemed to rise as he approached. He held out a hand to steady himself against the wall. "You're looking very fit tonight, Granger."

With a mighty roll of her eyes, she groaned at the line.

"What? You do!"

"You're as bad as Seamus when you drink. Honestly, you should get back to your common room."

He reached out and stroked a curl. "But I'm happy here."

She sighed, knocking his hand away. "So you say now, but tomorrow when we have rounds together I'll wager you won't even be able to look me in the eye. That is if you can remember."

He snorted. Once. Twice. Three times until he was officially snickering. "Such a swot." He suddenly grew very serious. "I've never been this close to you before, have I?"

She backed away at his observation. "Malfoy, go to bed."

"I'm trying to go to bed," he said, leaning into her and inhaling the scent of her recently-washed hair. Rosemary and mint. Very nice. "You smell so good."

"Alright, Malfoy." She put her arm around him and walked him towards the dungeons. "Let's get you to bed."

"Mmmm." His face nuzzled into the soft skin of her neck. "Are you coming with me?"

"Could you stop being such a creep? I'm trying to help you."

"You're right. I'm sorry." He seemed to sober a bit. "It's just so hard to talk to you like this. I've tried, you know."

"Tried what?"

"To tell you."

"Tell me what?"

He yawned, the alcohol finally moving his body into the sleepy stage of his drunkenness. "That I fancy you." He leaned back into her, not noticing when her knees buckled a bit under his weight. "Do you know what I dream of doing to you?"

Her face heated as she tried to regain her footing. "I…I'm sure you dream of doing a lot of things to a lot of girls."

"Uh-uh. Just you, Granger." He leaned in to steal another sniff of her hair. "You're special."

Something in her eyes might have troubled him had he been sober enough to appreciate it. There was a bit of hurt there. Perhaps because she didn't believe in the sincerity of the comment. "Stop coming onto me." She didn't raise her voice, but it carried with it a tone of authority.

It was enough to sober him slightly. He found a bit more footing as he helped move them towards the dungeons. "Granger?" His voice was small.

"Yes?"

He sighed. "I think about you all the time."

The scent of the Firewhisky in his glass vaguely reminded him of that evening; an evening which he couldn't even think about it without wanting to pull fistfuls of his hair from his scalp. What little he remembered of that night was completely humiliating. Of all the ways he would have told Her how he felt, that was the very bottom of the list. She deserved better.

But what he hated most was the fact that it had apparently upset Her; enough to send Her crying to the Weasley girl. She had believed he was just having Her on at the time; that he was just playing with Her.

He really should stop drinking.

The only reason he ever even revisited the memory was because of what the next day brought.

It felt like a herd of miniature trolls had thrown an all-night orgy in his brain. He wanted to die.

Worst of all, he hadn't blacked out, which meant he remembered most of the shit storm from the night before, albeit imperfectly.

He had hit on her in the sleaziest way. Salazar's balls, he would never be able to speak to her again. He remembered how good she smelled when he nuzzled the soft skin of her neck, and he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

"There he is." Theo plopped down on the couch next to him. "You disappeared last night."

Draco shook his head. "I was absolutely wasted. I needed some air."

"You missed Daphne taking her shirt off for a dare."

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll do it again sometime."

Theo snickered. "They say Umbridge is starting an 'Inquisitorial Squad.' The members are like prefects, but grasses instead of swots. You in?"

"Have you ever known me to grass?"

"No, but there are perks. No curfew and we can take points away from anyone we want."

"Sounds euphoric," he deadpanned. "I've got enough to worry about."

"Oh yeah?" Theo looked interested. "Prefect duties with Granger driving you to an early grave?"

He rubbed his temples. "Something like that."

"She thinks she's the same as you. She's not. You should remind her."

His tone sent a chill through Draco. Most of the time, Theo was a laugh. But every now and then he would say or do something that hinted at his potential for cruelty. It occurred to Draco that Theo might have been the perfect son to Lucius. "She's harmless."

"She's not."

Draco turned to look at his friend and was startled to find a hardness in his face.

"She needs to learn her proper place."

This conversation was taking a turn Draco didn't like. "I'm not going to get bloody expelled just to have a go in the Mudblood's knickers."

"Interesting that your mind went there immediately. Who said anything about shagging the bint?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be fucking coy. You know that's what you meant. You and every other arsehole in this place have written bloody dissertations on the disgusting things you'd like to do to her."

Theo shrugged. "It's our right as purebloods. But of course, you've already claimed her."

The pounding in his head was deafening. "What do you mean, I've 'claimed her'?"

"You said she was off limits. Remember?"

"I…yeah."

"So, that must mean," he leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper, "once the Dark Lord takes his proper place, that you want dibs on Potter's Mudblood."

"She's not Potter's Mudblood."

A slow grin crept up Theo's face. "That's right, mate. She's your Mudblood. Why not sample her first?"

Draco wanted to vomit. And he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with his hangover. "Can we talk about something else?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay." His face grew serious. "I'm just looking out for you, mate. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I just don't to see you squander your potential. Young men like us will be useful. Better to grow up now, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"No one will begrudge you having a pet. Fuck, even I have my eyes on that ditzy little half-blood Ravenclaw. The one with the barmy earrings." He snickered. "Sure, it'll piss off our wives, but we've got to have somewhere to go when they're too pregnant with our heirs for us to get it up for them, don't we?"

Hot bile churned in his stomach. "Yeah."

Theo clapped his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Good talk. And you should go to Madam Pomfrey for a Pepperup Potion. You look like shit, man."

He felt like it, too.

He paced back and forth at the entrance to the castle, waiting for Hermione to join him. He had no idea what he would say to her. His best plan was to let her talk first and if she wanted to berate him, so be it.

"Malfoy?"

He jumped at her arrival. "Granger." His hands instantly flew up to his hair, smoothing it back. Like she gave a shit what he looked like. "Um…about last night—"

"Can we just…not? Obviously, you were completely hammered, and I doubt you even remember everything you said. I know you didn't mean it, so we can just forget about it."

Oh. Wow. That was easier than he expected.

Except he did mean it. Every last bit of it.

He shrugged. "Fine by me."

The two passed the next fifteen minutes in companionable silence before Draco broke first. "Okay, I can't stand this."

"Good, me neither."

He chuckled. "I owe you an explanation."

"You really don't—"

"Please." He wasn't sure what caused the delightful flush on her cheeks to appear, but it made it very difficult for him to concentrate on what he wanted to say. "I'm sorry I was so sloppy. I know I got a bit handsy with you, and I probably made you really uncomfortable, but you've got to know I would never…" Merlin, this sucked, "hurt you. Or anything."

She nodded. "No, I know. It's really fine."

"No, it's not. I wouldn't blame you if you were uncomfortable patrolling with me knowing what you know."

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "Please don't make me say it sober."

She looked genuinely confused. "Draco, I told you. I know you didn't mean those things. It's okay."

"Obviously, I find you…" He averted his gaze to the ground. "You know." He was such a colossal wanker.

"But…you were drunk."

He squinted his eyes shut. "I was drunk. But that doesn't mean…" He sighed. "People don't lie when they drink, Hermione. They say stupid shit they'd never say sober, but not because they don't mean them."

Little puffs of air escaped her parted lips, causing them to flush an extremely distracting shade of pink. He wanted to trace her bottom lip with his thumb. "Oh."

"Yeah. Look…I'm not a creep." Yes, you are, you fucking sod. You watch her when she bloody eats.

"No, I know."

"I think you're…you know. You're very…" He rolled his eyes at his own inarticulateness. "You're you." What every girl wants to hear. Nice job, arsehole. Get used to the idea of dying lonely.

"Right."

"And your…youness." Salazar's tit, he was inventing words now, "happens to be a collection of attributes that are very...appealing to me, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable because I can turn it off." Probably.

Her parted lips seemed to tremble, and the sight set Draco on fire. "Okay. I'm confused. So, you're saying that you actually do fancy me? That wasn't just Firewhiskey goggles?"

"Uhhh…." This was hands down, the most mortifying conversation of his life. "Yeah."

"Oh. Okay." She bit her bottom lip, making it flush an even darker. "Can I just…? Never mind."

"No. No, go ahead. What were you going to say?" He must look like an absolute tit right now, the way he was so obviously gagging for her to say something…anything...to soften the blow.

"Just…" She sighed. "Are you sure you don't just like the idea of pissing off your father?"

Whoa. Um...he did not expect that. "Hermione, if my father finds out about this, he'll pull me out of here and send me to Durmstrang faster than you can say 'disappointing son.'"

"Oh. Okay." Her eyes softened. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but changed her mind.

Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and looked pretty much everywhere else but her. "So...yeah." He almost shot her a thumbs up before mentally kicking himself in the balls. Even now, he couldn't let himself be quite that uncool.

"Um…so…we shouldn't tell anyone about this conversation, then?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "That would probably be wise, yes."

She folded her arms across her chest like someone who was trying to appear casual. "Okay. Cool."

A faint smirk appeared on the corner of his mouth. "Cool." She was so adorable. "Should we continue onto—mmmmmphhh."

Her hot mouth covered his and it, was heaven. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Her scent was all around him, and her warm, soft body was against him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, making him forget his own name. He devoured her wet, greedy mouth like it was the only sustenance he'd ever need.

He had absolutely no idea if he was doing it right, but his lips seemed to move against hers of their own accord as if they recognized her already. There was a faint ringing in his ears, which made him grasp her hips closer to him so he wouldn't pass out.

He miraculously had the presence of mind to back her against the stone wall. A soft "umph" was uttered against his lips at the contact, but he swallowed it whole, never letting her up for air for even a moment. He could die like this. Happily. Fuck knows why this was happening to him, but he did not currently possess the mental capacity to properly ponder it.

The two of them stood in the corridor with him pressing their bodies against one another for almost twenty minutes. Soft exhales and little sounds passed through their mouths. Draco could feel his lips going numb and knew that tomorrow, they'd be chapped and swollen, but he'd sooner slap his grandmother than stop. What would he do once they finally did separate? In the short time since he'd come to known her mouth, he'd grown too accustomed to its subtle, sweet taste. The absence of her tongue slipping against his would feel foreign and wrong.

"Mmm, Draco," she said through his kisses.

"Hmm?" He nibbled her bottom lip.

"Draco?"

"Mmm."

"Should we…keep going?"

"Fuck yes." He pulled her closer and shoved his tongue deep into her mouth.

She giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest to put the tiniest bit of distance between them. "I meant our patrol."

Draco cursed the space she put between them but was pacified when he saw that she didn't look horrified over what they had just done. He twirled a curl between two fingers. "I suppose."

She giggled again, and it made him feel ten feet tall that he was the cause of it. With one last, lingering kiss, she said, "The sooner we finish patrol, the sooner we can do that again. If you want."

"Yes, definitely, I want to," he said without hesitation. The fact that she questioned his enthusiasm to repeat their epic, world-altering snog baffled him. With the knowledge that she wanted to continue in tow, he allowed himself to steal one last kiss from her. "I like you." Now that he'd had his tongue in her throat, he felt he could finally say it properly.

Her lips were puffy and pink and utterly charming when she brought them up into the loveliest smile he had ever seen. "I like you, too."

He brought his forehead to hers and breathed her in. "This is going to be a disaster."

From that moment on, he knew that she had damned him. And he couldn't have been happier about it.

He tossed back the remaining Firewhiskey in his glass with the wicked grin of a man who had long accepted his own damnation.

Fuck it all, it was still worth it.