Note: Merry Christmas to you all!! (Even though I'm late . ) I hope you'll understand that, with the holidays and the family parties and all, I had a hard time getting this done in time. Anyway, here it is, finally, the long awaited (I hope ;) ) chapter 11! Enjoy!

Chapter 11: The Blue Owl

Hermione was still grumbling (in her mind that is, since Malfoy had cast a silencing spell on her two minutes ago) when Malfoy finally decided it was time to stop walking. And maybe, if she was fortunate enough, to start explaining his odd behaviour.

"I suppose you want some long and boring explanations now, Granger? Guess what? I don't have any!" He resembled a madman, without any sign of control over the situation (What situation? There wasn't any problem, was there?). That's exactly what he looked like.

Seeing her utter confusion and her look of disbelief showing on every parcel of skin in her face, he tried to calm himself. He countered the silencing charm and began pacing around the room where he had led her to.

"The thing is..." he sighed, muttered: "I shouldn't even be telling you this." Passing his hand on his face as if he was experiencing a rather difficult moment, he continued: "The blue owl is a stranger's. I don't know if it's a he, a she or even an 'it'; all I know is that the person who owns this owl wants me dead or out of its way, whatever that means. In his last letter, he mentioned you, so I thought that maybe..."

Cutting him, she tried to act as logically as possible: "When did you get this letter?"

"Right after your parents accepted me as your future husband."

She blushed, even though there was nothing to blush about, really. Curse these incontrollable physical malfunctions.

"How do you know?"

"I received the two owls within a minute," he responded, as if it was very obvious.

"How many did you receive? What does it have to do with me? And why did you bring me here? We could have stayed in the library!"

"I received exactly 7 of them if you must know. The last one said that the... person had finally found out why I wouldn't stay out of his way and that 'the Vandemoortele girl surely had more to offer than me'. About this room... well, it's a hidden one, aside from being several other useful things, and you could access it only because I permitted you to."

Even though she was very glad that he had decided to 'confess' to her, she was slightly taken aback by his trust in her. Wasn't he supposed to hate her, like everyday else? Of course she wasn't the muggleborn he had thought she was first, but she was still one of Harry's closest friends... a reason enough to make Malfoy think she could not be considered worthy of breathing the same air as him.

She pondered whether it was all a show he was playing at to win her over (and then being able to get her in his bed like half of the female population of Hogwarts), no matter how farfetched this story was becoming, or if it was his hatred for Harry and the Gryffindors that was all a façade. Either way he was hiding his true feelings; and that was mostly intriguing.

"So... when did you plan on telling me all this, since I'm somehow involved with this crazy blue owl owner?"

"Honestly? Never." He sniggered. Oh yeah, so funny, Malfoy. Really smooth of you. Who in their right mind would actually tell their future wife she could possibly be in great danger?

"And there I thought you didn't want me to die…"

"I don't want you to die near anything that is related to me. That's different. If some psycho kills you, the links to me won't be so strong."

So much for caring for each other. She was now a disposable object of value from the Malfoy collection of rare items. Hurray.

Now she felt like crying.

"You…" she began, outraged.

"Remember, this is not a love wedding, Granger. I still despise you," he sneered.

"Someday people would have forgiven you for your father's sins, Malfoy. You would only have had to act like a respectable man." Rage filled her heart in an instant, coming from all the frustrations accumulating themselves for a few days now: "But instead you chose to force me into a marriage I dread more than anything, you didn't hesitate to threaten me and my friend Ginny to do it, and this situation you put me in even got me into more trouble because it gave some psycho guy owning a blue owl the idea that I, for some reason, was related to your stupid life!" She took another breathe before continuing her ranting. "Because of you now, I may be in great danger, my whole life is wasted, and I even got the 'chance' to be obligated to conceive an heir with the almighty Slytherin sex god, selfish brat extraordinaire! And so I should be the one to despise you, Malfoy! You and your fucking reputation are nothing to me! Now you'll have to get me out of this psycho's mind, dear, because if you don't, I might be able to accidentally let it slip that you tried to kill me on several occasions, even if it would be a bunch of lies!"

Wow. That was some speech. Gave her quite a good feeling, too. She was relieved, not a tad guilty, and she even felt proud to have put in his place. The guy should have remembered she had claws, too. Two could play this game –even if she had never hoped in her wildest dream that she would have to resort to threats to defend herself against him– and she was more than ready now. And why not continue with it, now that she was more into the feeling?

"From now on, you'll update me on everything, and I mean everything, that I will judge important or that could be related to me in any way possible. You will not 'forget' any useful or meaningless information and you will stop treating me like I'm some sort of prized object! Is that clear?"

He didn't look like he was afraid, surprised or even impressed, by her long outburst. He just smirked his annoying trademark and patted her on the head. It seemed like he didn't take her seriously at all. Ouch.

"Okay, you win."

Was there anything more infuriating, after such a long tirade like the one she had just cried out, than to be treated like a spoiled child?

Might as well play the child card, then. The 'ready to cry a river' part to be precise. Yes, that would be lovely.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She looked like she was on the verge of falling to tears. Although she was sure she should have been more careful in her approach –it had been a little too fast to her own likes –she hoped it would still work. After all, looking vulnerable wasn't something she enjoyed doing in her free times.

But at least it had apparently taken him off-balance, if it was by any appearance. Now all she had to do was to use basic psychology, make him feel as guilty as it was possible –she knew pretty well it would be a near miracle if she somehow succeeded– and not to let him realize it was all an act. So she wouldn't have the time to let him think a second about this, thus having to do her show on instincts, which was something she really hated. Instincts weren't logic nor reason, and therefore they irremediably resulted in disaster most of the time. Hopefully this right moment would prove to be an exception.

"It's not like I care," he said scornfully, trying to look like she hadn't produced any effect.

"Why not? What did I ever do to you, beside being friends with Harry?"

Basic psychology, on this instant, consisted to use her limited knowledge of the subject. Limited knowledge including the supposition –driven by good facts but still not proved– that he could be jealous of Harry. Leading him to begin to hate them too, adding the fact that she had had friendly relations with Ron and Ginny, who were both Weasleys, well-known nemesis of the Malfoy family –or any other 'self-respecting' pureblood family.

"This has nothing to do with Scarface," he huffed.

"Then what is your problem?"

He was about to reply, slightly opening his mouth in what should have been a strikingly insulting answer, but chose not to say anything. That was one thing she had greatly hoped would happen quickly in her 'guilt-operation', as it was obvious that he had lost one of the main reasons he would have showed off to pretend for his hatred, since she wasn't a true muggleborn.

"You're the problem, Granger," he spat after moments of hesitancy.

Oh, yeah. Take it upon him to make her the one solely responsible one for all the problems in the world. He hated her because of her. So much for logic.

"Then I suppose you're a kind of sick masochist if you want to marry a walking problem."

She didn't turn on her heels but simply glared at him. She would have likely lost herself in the maze of the Malfoy Manor and it was not her intention to get laughed at because of her practically non-existant knowledge of what he called a home.

"Better minor trouble than a bad name," he replied as if it was a common philosophy.

If she hadn't known better, his sudden lack of emotion –not even a smirk– would have rung all sorts of alarm in her head. Such as "watch out for this shallow moron!" or "Liar! Liar! Liar!" in big letters. She felt as if he was trying to convince himself too while he said it; normally this was a sign that the person was in denial. And better a Malfoy in denial than a shallow moron.

"You can count on me to do anything possible to drag you in the dirt if you ever put me in any danger ever again, Malfoy. And I'm dead-serious this time. Now show me the way out before I make this damn place explode."

Silently, a bit shocked and –had she seen right?– with a disappointed look that quickly hid itself behind the usual coldness of his eyes, he motioned for her to follow him and they quickly left the room to enter, again and much to her displeasure, the frightening maze that was the Malfoy Manor.

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Well, that's it! Is it just me or are the chapters getting longer? 0.o

I wish you a Happy New Year full of Dramione fics! Ok... time to shut up now. See you in 2007!

Featherstrike

...and D. and Firnoviel