Thanks for all the reviews again. I know the last chapter wasn't super exciting, but I still hope you guys liked it. I know that everybody is awaiting the time when Draco finally comes clean, but I loooove suspense, the more the better. It will come, no doubt about it, but I'd like to stretch the suspense just a little longer. Hope you guys forgive me for this.

11. Ginny's Preposterous Predictions

Draco portkeyed directly into the Malfoy Manor, his arms still tightly wrapped about Hermione's abdomen.

It took her a little while to steady herself after landing on the floor, Draco's arms catching most of the impact.

Quickly she wiggled herself free from his embrace and shot around to face him.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU MAD? YOU CANNOT APPARATE WITH SOMEONE UNEXPECTED. WE COULD HAVE BEEN SPLINCHED, YOU… IDIOT!" Hermione's eyes sparkled madly at him, at the same time pulling out her wand and holding it under his chin.

"Calm down, Granger. Who said anything about Apparition. I'm not daft." Draco held up his hand and showed her the large silver snake ring adorning his finger, and added:" It's a portkey."

"You better watch it, Malfoy. I'm very quick with hexes. I could slice you in half, right about now," she hissed, her voice subdued, but silky sweet and dangerous. It had the necessary effect on Draco, as he held up his hands in defeat.

"Blimey Granger, will you stop pointing that thing at me? Besides, I've been through more slicing curses than you have hair on your head."

"I don't think so, Malfoy. The wand stays where it is until you tell me what you wanted to talk to me about, so that I may be on my way home in the next few minutes."

Draco had been so sure about telling her everything; telling her that Marcel was her son; telling her how much he had wanted her since fourth year; telling her of his strong feelings for her, but he couldn't. A lump in his throat prevented him from bringing forth a single word.

He swallowed hard, all the while attempting to control his frayed nerves. Part of him wanted to profess his love for her. He wanted to show her, that he wasn't the guy she took him for. But it would mean opening up to the one person, who could tear him down, if she so wished. It was a gamble and he hated to loose. He knew he couldn't bare it, if she would laugh in his face afterward. Draco had always been careful to show his true feelings. It had been beat into him by his famous father to never show his true thoughts.

'A Malfoy is always in charge; a Malfoy doesn't cry; a Malfoy has the utmost control over himself; a Malfoy doesn't show feelings, not even to his family;'

How many times had he heard these rants from his father, while being beaten, kicked or hexed with the Sicing hex or Cuciatus curse. There were too many to count.

He looked down at Hermione. She was so beautiful. He had to look twice, when he spotted her in the club, in her black dress, with high-heeled shoes and her hair made up. Once he had made certain that it was her, he could scarcely contain himself while watching Oliver Wood sitting close to her and holding her hand. Hermione was his little witch and no other man had the right to touch her. Draco's possessiveness, one of his less charming flaws, but equally as strong as his father's, was powerful enough to push any rational thoughts aside.

Hermione shook him out of his reverie, her wand poking into his neck.

"How much longer are you going to stand here? Tell me what you wanted, already," she exclaimed louder and with an impatient air about her.

With the reflexes of a snake Draco snatched the wand out of her hand and grinned triumphantly.

"Do you really think you can strike fear into me, Granger? Remember, I'm an ex-deatheater."

"You should scratch the "Ex" part. You are still a deatheater, Malfoy. Now, give me back my wand."

"Not so fast, Granger, I don't like being at the receiving end of your wand, especially not in my own house."

"You wouldn't be, if you weren't always such an arse, Malfoy."

Draco grinned at that.

"But you like my arse, don't you? Boring guys never did it for you."

"You don't know anything about me, ferret. Give me my wand!"

Hermione stepped forward hopping up and down to reach her wand, but he held it high above his head and out of reach.

"No!" he answered, grinning down at her.

"FINE! Let's get this over with. Tell me why you brought me here." Hermione huffed madly and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

To make a point, she tapped her foot impatiently, all the while muttering about how childish he was acting.

Draco looked down on her and for a fraction of a second Hermione noticed his uncertainty.

"Well?" she asked, again.

"I brought you here to tell you something very important," he began, then hesitated.

"Alright, I got that part, now what is so important?"

He couldn't; he just couldn't tell her. He had to act quickly before he made himself a complete fool and stammered: "Marcel needs you. He has grown extremely fond of you in the last two days."

It wasn't a complete lie, Draco thought. Marcel had been talking ad nauseam about his new Nanny, so much in fact, that even the house-elves had grown annoyed with him.

Hermione shot him an incredulous look, trying to process what he had just said. Naturally, she was flattered that the boy had taken to her so much, but couldn't Draco have told her that in the morning?

She drew her eyebrows together and watched him closely.

"I don't understand. This is the important thing you wanted to tell me?"

Draco nodded and smirked.

"Malfoy, I cannot believe you. You broke up my date, followed me, and then portkeyed me into your manor in the middle of the night to tell me this? I mean, couldn't you have waited until tomorrow?"

"No, sorry, Granger, I couldn't wait. You still don't seem to understand, that Marcel means everything to me. And he should have everything. Right now he fancies you and I want to give him what he needs."

Hermione snorted.

"Yes, so he can grow up just like you – a spoiled rotten kid, thinking the world revolves around him. Good job, Dad."

"Watch who you talk to, Granger. I can make your life very uncomfortable in a short period of time. Believe me, you don't want that." Draco hadn't meant to say it, but as always when in her presence, he just couldn't stop the old battle.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm just merely stating facts."

Hermione eyed Draco cautiously, before she went on.

"By the way, what in the world did you tell Oliver Wood?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. Before he left, he told me to go home to my son. He also mentioned something of a wedding. It didn't make any sense."

"He was probably drunk, or you didn't hear him correctly. Nevertheless, I was just protecting you."

Hermione cocked her head to the side with disbelief clearly showing on her face.

"PROTECTING ME? For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, from what do I need protection?"

"From Wood, of course, and all the other hungry blokes, who were staring you up and down. What else? Why the hell do you have to wear something skimpy like this anyway?" Draco chided while lifting the strap of her dress up with his index finger and letting it snap back down. "You look like a todger (british for cock) tease in this."

"EXCUSE ME?"

Hermione stepped back, utterly shocked and in disbelief.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what and what not I can wear? Besides my dress is very appropriate and stylish and there is absolutely nothing wrong with what I'm wearing. You are worse than Ron and Harry, which is saying something. I'm twenty one years old and perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. Now give me my wand, so I can leave." She huffed incredulously, before a thought struck her. Was Malfoy jealous? Although inconceivable, it certainly was a possibility.

"Yes, you are twenty one and flaunting your body for everyone to see. YOU didn't see their faces, Granger, tongues hanging to the floor and foam around the mouths, you could practically see what they were up to."

'Yep, jealous'

"Codswallop, Malfoy. Wood isn't like that," she answered, trying to suppress a smirk.

"Isn't he? R-A-P-E was firmly spelled on his forhead," he exclaimed with as much emphasis on the four-letter-word as possible.

"Oh, but gallivanting about with your half naked Slytherin Godess in the presence of your son, not to mention me, is quite alright?" Hermione retorted sarcastically. She grew angrier with each minute that went by and knew, if she had to stay any longer in Malfoy's presence, she would blow a vessel in her head.

"That's different."

"DIFFERENT? I don't think so Malfoy. It's just like it; the same exact thing. Now, give me my bloody wand."

"Fine, here," Draco sighed and handed Hermione her wand back. "But before you go . . ." Draco turned around and opened a drawer, pulling something that looked like a muggle camera out of it and showed it to her. "I thought this might help with the investigation. Since you are muggle, perhaps you know how to operate one of them?"

Hermione's eyes lid up as she realized that he held a digital video camera in his hand; one of the newer models, too.

She took it and examined it.

"I thought this might be less intrusive. Any magical device could easily be detected in Zabini's house. I'm sure he thinks of checking everything at all times. Come to think of it, he always had an obsessive way about him, checking everything twice and trice. Anyway, it won't give off any magical waves. And it's small enough to hide in his home."

"Nice one," Hermione said with a big grin on her face. "But are you sure you still want to do this?"

Draco took the camera out of her hands and held her gaze with his, a slick expression on his face.

"Sure I'm sure, under one condition, that you move into the Malfoy Manor and become my full-time Nanny for the time being."

Hermione paused a moment, assessing his face. The question, why he wanted her to move in so badly, was clearly stamped upon her face, yet she didn't give voice to it.

Taking a deep breath, she finally answered.

"Alright, but I still have to pack a few things. I can be here tomorrow morning, though."

Draco's face broke into a big smile, but quickly reposed. This was like Christmas, no, better than Christmas. He finally had Hermione to himself.

BREAK

Hermione was tired after apparating back into her flat. All she wanted to do is fall into her bed, not even worrying about such things as getting undressed or brushing her teeth, but it wasn't in her nature to procrastinate, so she forced herself to stay awake and pack her things first.

Carefully, as not to wake Ginny, who had come back sometime during the night, she made her way to her room, scanning over the note Ginny had left her underneath her own scribble.

'Wow, Mione, Wood is a very eligible bachelor. Can't wait to hear the juicy parts of the evening. Wake me up when you get in, ok?'

That's exactly what Hermione didn't feel like doing right about now. Her nerves were frayed enough.

She put the note down on her nightstand and grabbed a large gym bag from inside her closet. She figured she'd only need one week's worth of clothing. She'd come back every weekend anyway.

With an armful of clothes she had just walked back to the bed and the gym bag, when the door creaked open.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ginny was standing in the doorframe, her hair in tangles and her eyes still half closed.

It took a while for Ginny to realize what exactly happened before her, but as soon as she did, her eyes popped open, followed up by her mouth.

"WHAT? You're packing? Why?"

Hermione knew there was no way around it. An explanation was in order. She plumped onto her large bed and padded a spot next to her. Ginny took the invitation.

"Ginny, please don't get upset about this, but … Malfoy invited me to live in his Manor and become a full-time nanny."

"WHAT, no way Hermione. That git?" Ginny was speechless, not in the literal sense, of course, for she suffered from an incessant plethora of speech.

Hermione rolled her eyes and then began telling her everything that had taken place in the last few days, from her constant run-ins with Malfoy to her ruined evening with Wood. After she finished, there was a moment of silence, long enough for Ginny to try to absorb it all.

Then something happened that baffled Hermione more than anything she'd ever come across. Ginny stood up and walked to the door. Not turning around, she said, "Well, have fun, Hermione."

"Wait, Gin! You are upset with me, aren't you?" Hermione asked, sure she had just lost her best friend. But to her other surprise, Ginny turned around, her eyes twinkling Dumbledore style, and a mischievous grin plastered on her face. That girl was always full of shockers, Hermione thought. Due to Ginny's natural looks and her simple nature, it was hard to canvas the idea, that the girl's character was as deep as Loch Ness and as complicated as muggle arithmetic. Hermione had to admit, that, so far she had only scratched the surface of understanding her friend truly.

"I'm not upset at all, Mione. I always knew he'd come forward one of these days,"

Hermione gave her a most confused look. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, Hermione, you are really not getting it, are you?" Ginny replied, while rolling her eyes at Hermione's lack of awareness.

"He has been gushing around you since fourth year, since you slapped him silly," Ginny grinned at this, and sat back down next to her friend. "Have you never noticed?"

Hermione turned pale for a moment, to be replaced shortly after by a deep crimson color, which ended at her ears and hairline.

"Impossible! Draco Malfoy has been so thoroughly nasty to me all these years . . . I mean, this is Malfoy we are talking about, Gin."

Ginny gave her a superior look, as if Hermione was the quivering student before her stern schoolmaster.

"Yeah, well, I don't expect YOU to know the little subtle innuendos of the love game, Hermione. I mean, you never really had a boyfriend."

"OH? Then what do you call Ron?"

Ginny laughed at that. "Ron? Ron's a big oaf when it comes to the fine art of romancing someone. Not even you could possibly learn from him. Besides, you never had sex with him or any other boy I know of."

Hermione jumped up at that, facing Ginny angrily.

"AND WHO ARE YOU? DR. RUTH?"

Ginny drew her eyebrows together in question. "Who?"

Hermione waved her hand. "You wouldn't know, of course, it's a muggle sex ed. teacher, TV show style." Then she rounded on Ginny again. "Besides, sorry to disappoint you, but I did have sex before. I'm not the old maiden you take me for."

At that Ginny's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "But I thought . . . I swore you were still . . . how come I didn't notice? Who?" She stammered nearly as bad as Professor Quirrel in their first year at Hogwarts.

Hermione grinned triumphantly. "Yes, it's true. I'm not lying. It was during seventh year, shortly after I found your brother cheating on me. And, it was the best night of my life," Hermione gushed dreamily and by glancing at Ginny, she knew her act had been convincing enough. Not that she had lied about having had sex before, but the trouble was, that she remembered near to nothing about the particular night. Every now and then, she could recall an odd scene here or there, but the most parts had been drowned in her drunken stupor. All she knew was, that it had been a steamy and very erotic night, and that she had felt thoroughly shagged and content the next morning.

Ginny jumped up and wiggled excitingly, as if she had just been told of a grand prize winning of one million galleons.

"Who was it, Hermione? You must tell me everything. Oh please, tell me!" she squealed eagerly.

Hermione's face fell. She hadn't thought about that. Come to think of it, she had never really wasted a thought on who her one-night-encounter was. It was strange, but she always knew that she knew, but thinking about it, she didn't. Or in other words, at the time and afterward, she knew exactly who it was, but now the memory of it seemed to have been erased.

Confused she sat back down and closed her eyes, trying desperately to conjure up a face she'd recognize.

Ginny ripped her out of her thoughts. "You don't know, or you don't remember?"

Hermione opened her eyes and took a long look at her friend, before she answered.

"The truth is, I don't remember. It's weird, but . . . I swore I knew and now I don't."

"That doesn't make any sense, Hermione."

"No it doesn't," she giggled. "I was drunk that night. It was the night after I caught Ron and Parvati. I do remember that it was the hottest night I have ever experienced. So why don't I remember his face?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know. You must have been either sloshed to the point of no return, or someone used a memory charm on you." Her eyes began sparkling crazily, while she added, "Maybe it was Malfoy, and he just wanted to hide the fact that he had shagged the only girl in Hogwarts who despised him."

"Ginny, one has to be barmy coming up with the stories you do. There is no way I shagged Malfoy. I would know that."

"Oh really? How would you know if he put something in your drink or indeed used a memory charm, eh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. "Simple, I would know, because I wouldn't have had sex with him in the first place."

"Hermione, listen to me. I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to erase your memory after shagging you."

Hermione was near the breaking point. How could she explain Ginny that a thing between them was impossible? They were arch enemies since the beginning of first grade.

"Malfoy would never shag me. He never had a crush on me, or was gushing around me, as you put it. He hated me with a passion and I hated him equally if not more."

Ginny poked a finger painfully into Hermione's chest. "There, you said it! He hated you with a PASSION. I mean, come of it Hermione, you of all people should know that hate and love are very closely related. Both are powerful emotions and can be easily confused. Why do you think Malfoy was giving you so much attention? Why would he go out of his way to taunt you? Don't you think he'd ignore you completely, if he didn't care about you?"

"But . . . he just wanted to make my life miserable, he . . ." Hermione retorted.

"He taunted you, because he liked you . . . a lot. I watched him plenty of times after a row between you both, you stomping off and he following you with his cronies, staring at your arse, or making wolf whistles when you were out of earshot. I noticed a few times that he took a longer way to the dungeons just so he would run into you, Harry and Ron, but mainly you. I'm not daft Hermione. I watch, that's what I do. One time I even heard him talk to Zabini about you. It was the day after you had fallen into the lake during sixth year, remember? You blouse was practically see-through. I'm not even going to tell you what they were discussion after having watched you storm toward the great entrance. Or the time when Ron snogged you openly in the Great Hall, you should have seen his face; if looks could kill, Ron would've been a goner."

"You are so dead wrong, Ginny."

"No I'm not. Wait here," she ordered and left quickly. Hermione heard noises coming from Ginny's room, while she apparently rummaged around her closet. Ten seconds later she was back, holding a piece of paper toward Hermione.

"I caught this during Runes Class. Remember, when they put the fifth and sixth years together, because the teacher was ill? Draco drew that and was throwing it at your desk, but he missed. It landed in my lap instead. He tried to take it from me later, but didn't succeed as you can see."

Hermione opened the crunched up piece of parchment and instantly blushed.

The drawing depicted clearly an animated Draco Malfoy humping a girl with familiar bushy hair on a flying broom. To make sure who the girl was, he had placed her name next to the drawing. Hermione's inky counterpart opened her mouth in a big "O" indicating climax, while Draco grinned devilishly.

"That's just sick," she huffed, while staring at the drawing. "Can I have that?"

"Sure, it's yours anyway," Ginny answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Hermione rushed past her in a mad dash, her dress billowing out behind her. She brusquely walked to the fireplace and tossed the parchment into the flames, watching it disintegrate and smolder into ashes.

Satisfied she turned around to Ginny who had followed her into the sitting room.

"I don't know why you kept it for all those years, Gin? It's absolutely disgusting to say the least."

"I don't know. I don't throw things away very often," she answered, and truthfully, for Hermione had seen Ginny's room stuffed to the brim with everything imaginable.

"Do you believe me now?" Ginny asked hopeful, glancing carefully at the other witch.

"Believe what?"

"That he had a thing for you the entire time. I think he's in loves with you."

Hermione groaned at that. "He's not in love with me. He doesn't have a thing for me either and never had. Ginny, you read entirely too many romance novels. Perhaps you should focus instead on reality a bit more. Regarding the drawing, he probably just wanted to get a rise out of me."

"If you say so, Hermione." Ginny made a face, turned around and walked into her bedroom without even saying "Good Night".

As much as Hermione hated for Ginny to be upset with her, she didn't want to strengthen the girl in her crazy illusions. Ginny had always had a knack for seeing romance everywhere she went. Determined to write her a quick note in the morning, she walked back into her room to finish packing. Then she changed into some short bottom pj's and a tank top brushed her teeth quickly and hopped into bed. Before she turned the lights out, she grabbed one of the dreamless sleep potions; she had a stack of them in her nightstand drawer just for cases like this, and gulped it down.

This, she hoped, would at least give her a few hours of restful sleep.

BREAK

The next morning flew by way too fast. Hermione had only two minutes to sit down and take a few sips of her extra strong, black coffee, before she took a shower and dressed quickly. She wore a long black skirt that clung to her form and a white blouse. The September days were getting cooler now, particularly in London, so she decided to wear her light cloak. She quickly spelled a bit of make up onto her face, and her hair into a manageable mess, before grabbing her gym bag and apparating to the Malfoy Manor.

She was glad she had remembered to write Ginny a note before leaving. Hopefully, by the time she'd get back on Saturday, Ginny would be her old self again.

The air was crisp, when Hermione arrived. She could smell the salty ocean air and once again was entranced by the Manor and its magical surroundings. 'Almost like paradise', she mused and rapped on the door with the knocker, before adjusting her cloak. She couldn't wait to see Marcel again. She hadn't realized it before, but she missed his little angel face, the dashing smile and his deep blue eyes.

The door clicked open only an inch. Hermione drew her eyebrows together and waited. Where was Morphy? After a few more seconds, she carefully stepped closer and pushed against the door with her flat hand. Perhaps the Malfoy's owned an automatic door buzzer, just like some muggle houses? She shifted slightly and pushed the door open wide enough so she could slip through. 'Yes, that must be it. Perhaps the house-elves were busy and couldn't come to the door personally,' she thought and stepped inside.

As soon as she closed the door behind her and turned around, a black mass of robes and the unmistakable silky drawl of the person she loathed the most, next to Voldemort himself of course, startled her so much that she let go of her bag, it crashing onto the floor in a loud bang.

"Ms. Granger, fancy meeting you here," Professor Snape gushed, before assessing her with a stern expression.

"Wha . . . What are you doing here?" Hermione exclaimed, while fumbling for her wand. As soon as she felt the smooth material, she pulled it out and pointed it at the old Potions Master.

"Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question," he drawled before sneering at her wand. "Now, now, girl, is that any way to show respect for your former teacher?"

"HA," Hermione let out, before continuing her tirade. "You are no teacher of mine. You are a murderer and a traitor, Severus Snape. You should have been locked up in Azkaban right next to Lucius Malfoy. That's where you belong."

At that moment Draco made his way down the stairs, looking curiously from Hermione to his godfather.

"Blimey, Severus, you seem to loose no time to strike fear into your former student," he said with a malfoyish smirk on his lips. "It must be your explosive charm."

Draco reached the bottom of the stairs and walked casually over to the pair.

"You can put your wand away now, Granger."

"HELL NO!" she shouted never leaving her eyes off Snape. "I'm sure the Aurors will be happy to have finally caught the man most sought after by the ministry. I suggest you don't move an inch, dear Professor," she ordered, after catching Snape move forward slowly.

"Ms. Granger," he began, his typical sneer turning into a light smirk. Something Hermione had never seen or experienced on the man. "Perhaps it would be prudent to calm yourself and think rational, before jumping to conclusions. I know, it's not an easy concept for you to grasp, but do try, for as much as I enjoy your outbreak, it nevertheless won't serve any purpose." This comment he followed up with a thorough assessment of her whole body, lending special interest to her heaving breasts.

Hermione was shocked into silence. Had her old Professor just looked at her in a sort of sexual way? It was unprecedented that the sexless bat of the dungeons should harbor any romantic or sexual feelings at all. And it made her nearly sick.

Draco took advantage of her being momentarily stunned, and took the wand out of her hand.

She whipped around and glared at Draco. "Still the deatheater, I see," she noticed, hoping her voice wouldn't give away on how scared she felt without her wand and in the presence of the two deatheaters. "And I really thought you had changed."

Draco gave a short laugh, placed his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead lightly.

Hermione stepped back, removing his arm.

"Look, Granger. I'm not saying my godfather is an angel," the statement elicited a snort from the other, "he has been guilty of killing many people during Voldemort's reign, but he didn't kill Dumbledore. Or . . . at least not in that sense," Draco explained, hoping against hope that Hermione would understand.

"I have proof, Hermione that my godfather only acted under direct orders from Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore would never give such an order. He knew how much he was needed at Hogwarts, to protect the students and keep everyone safe from Voldemort and his deatheater scum," Hermione chided, her anger taking on new dimensions.

That's when Snape stepped closer to her, boring his black eyes into hers. "Ms. Granger, Dumbledore was dying. He knew he didn't have much time left. He was inclined to help Draco. It was a ruse, played out well by our dear Headmaster. He sacrificed himself to save scores of other people, particularly Draco and your friend Potter. It wasn't easy for me to cast the killing curse on him, but I did what needed to be done."

By now he had stepped so closely to Hermione that she nearly had to tip back her head all the way in order to look into his face. He was looming over her and she could feel his breath caressing her skin. Time seemed to have stood still during their staring contest, but was finally interrupted by Draco.

"Now, now, Severus, she's not for you to have," Draco chided, before continuing, while turning to Hermione. "Look, if you don't believe us, there is proof. Professor Dumbledore left a pensieve with his thoughts and orders for everyone to view. But he also warned us, that a lot of time would have to pass, before we could use this proof to save Severus. Right now, the Ministry doesn't seem open to any suggestions of that sort."

Hermione could only look stunned from one face to the other, before she stammered quietly, "Let me see Dumbledore's last thought, please."

Cliffy, I know, I'm terrible like that :)