a/n: Smut ahead. blame and/or thank oblivionbaby, for whom, it seems, I just can't say no.

Chapter 21: The Distraction

It seemed that Harry and Ron would never stop fighting. Not that it bothered Hermione all that much, and that was precisely the problem. She should have seen trouble coming from a mile away, but she didn't, and that was entirely Draco Malfoy's doing. She probably could have prevented things from happening the way that they did if he hadn't been so -

Well. In any case, it had certainly started out innocently enough.

"Ron," Harry snapped crossly. "Are you ever going to stop fussing with that radio - "

"Oh I'm sorry," Ron spat back sarcastically. "Is there something else we should be doing, oh Captain? If you're so unhappy with everything I do then why don't you try, oh, I don't know - checking in with the Order? Seeing how my family is doing?"

"How many times do I have to tell you - "

"I'm not sure, Harry! At least one more time, it looks like! I'm having a hard time believing that you even care about Ginny, considering that you haven't even tried to reach her - "

"Don't question my feelings about her!"

Hermione sighed. The two of them were at it again, bickering inside the tent while she and Malfoy had stepped outside to gather more firewood.

She could have just conjured flames for warmth, of course, but she didn't like to rely exclusively on magic for survival. Despite the countless protective spells they'd cast, she still fretted that an excessive use of magic might attract unwanted visitors. The compulsion to revert to muggle methods was likely spurred by nothing more than paranoia on her part, but the others were either too distracted to argue with her, or they were Malfoy, who seemed quietly entertained by her primitive mechanisms for survival and was, strangely enough, happy to indulge in her neuroticism.

Now, it seemed, she would have to hurry back. Once again, her two best friends needed a referee, and though it was not her favorite role in their relationship, it was a necessary one. Just the thought of reverting to the cold silence of their fourth year and the entire Goblet of Fire debacle was enough to make her want to tear her hair out, but she steadied herself to enter the tent as a mediator, ever the patient friend. Or sacrificial lamb, as it were.

"Wait," Malfoy said, grabbing her arm and pulling him into her. "Let them, would you?"

"Let them what?" she asked skeptically. "Kill each other?"

"Think of it this way," he said casually, putting his hands on her hips. "It means they're occupied."

"Malfoy!" she said, swatting his hands away. "They're in the tent - "

"So?" he asked, grinning. He manoeuvred her against a considerably sized tree, pressing her hips back against it and slipping his fingers into the waistband of her jeans.

She could still hear Ron and Harry arguing - "Would you get off my back about Ginny? You know we can't go there!" "Well, you could at least pretend to care!" - and she did put in a concerted effort to reach the two of them, to stop them from fighting - she did, really, she did - but Malfoy's breath on her neck was more than a little distracting.

"Let them be," he muttered in her ear, slowly undoing the button on her pants and dragging the zipper down, his fingers gently tracing an agonizing path under the band of her cotton underwear. "There's nothing you can do."

"That's not true," she breathed, though his fingers sliding along her clit gave her a shiver so thunderous she had to fight back a moan. "I - I can't - just - "

"You can, and you will," he growled in her ear, turning her swiftly so that her chest was pressed against the tree with her back to him, pausing to roughly part her legs with his knee and holding her hips firmly against his. "You're not their babysitter, Granger."

She was panting now, his fingers slipping inside her while she instinctively ground against the flat of his hand. "Still - "

"Tell me, Hermione," he murmured in her ear. "What would you really rather be doing?"

He tangled his free hand in her hair, pulling her head back so that he had access to her neck, biting down gently on the soft, sensitive skin and letting his breath linger where his lips had been.

"I - I don't think that's - entirely fair - "

Oh but she was close. So close. He flicked his thumb across her clit and she nearly buckled against him, letting his name escape from her lips in an urgent whisper.

"More?" he asked, and she could feel him smirking near her ear.

"More," she agreed breathlessly, closing her eyes as he turned her around and pushed her back to the tree, sliding her jeans over the curve of her arse and lifting her up against it.

Needless to say, she forgot her concern about Harry and Ron. Temporarily, at least. She'd never really considered herself outdoorsy before, but she did feel rather fondly about that tree.

The next time that Harry and Ron started to argue, they had all been outside; they had managed a couple of days of awkward, uncomfortable silence, but there was always a sense of instability in the air. At any given moment, their very foundation threatened to crack.

"Are you sleeping better?" Hermione had asked, eyeing Harry carefully. She'd woken up at odd hours to Malfoy sitting up beside her on occasion, sometimes reading one of her books or scribbling down useful spells he'd found, and she knew things had not improved for him. She figured the same was probably true for Harry.

"Not particularly," Harry said irritably. It had been days since he'd heard from Kreacher, and she knew he was getting anxious. "You know, if we could just go check on - "

"Really? Are we going to have this discussion again?" Ron interrupted. "Why are we even bothering to hide, if you're still just planning to run around putting yourself at risk - "

" - you can't be serious, Ron - "

" - and anyway, if you're going to go off by yourself, I should be able to see my family - "

Malfoy nudged her. "Come on, Granger," he muttered, exiting the conversation and discreetly pulling her into the tent.

She didn't fight him this time, and his lips were claiming hers the moment he got her inside.

"Malfoy," she said, struggling to focus. "One of these days - we're really going to have to do something about them - "

"We have time," he growled, swiftly removing her pants. She sighed and gave in, figuring that allowing one more argument between Ron and Harry wouldn't hurt. At least the two were speaking to each other. All things considered, it could have been worse, and most certainly had been in the past.

She shoved Malfoy into the bed and he chuckled a little, propping himself up on his elbows. "Eager, are we?"

"Shut up," she replied primly, straddling him and yanking her shirt over her head. "Or would you rather we just sit around and have a chat?"

"I couldn't be less interested in anything you have to say right now," he told her, smirking as only he knew how.

Her body's response was powerful - visceral, even. He was so fucking attractive.

"Are you sure about that, Draco?" she asked, slipping her hand down his abs. "Not even if I tell you" - she leaned down, putting her lips next to his ear and whispering - "how good you feel?"

He groaned loudly at that, sliding down slightly to take her right breast in his mouth, sucking lightly on her nipple and continuing a trail of kisses down her stomach. He positioned himself under her until she straddled his shoulders, propped upright and bracing herself on the headboard. The moment his tongue swept across her clit, she threw her head back, choking back a whimper.

"Tell me," he murmured, turning his head to bite down on her inner thigh.

"I - yes - "

He slipped his tongue inside her and she gasped.

"Inarticulate today, Granger?"

"Shut up," she panted, her knuckles white where she gripped the bed frame. "Don't - don't stop - "

He chuckled and continued working into her with his tongue, his fingers digging into her hips and arse and depriving her of any ability to function. She was barely conscious of the escalating argument outside - "What do you even need me for?" "If you want to leave so badly, then go!" - and focused instead the sound of her blood rushing in her ears as she came, hard, crashing into her orgasm with an audible cry.

"Draco - "

He flipped her onto her back, entering her with the kind of urgency that always made her see flashes of light behind her eyelids. He seemed to find her spot - that spot - instantly, and it was hard, fast, unadulterated bliss.

"Tell me," he said again, his teeth gritted from the effort of relentlessly driving into her.

"So good," she told him. So close. "You feel - so good - Draco," she raised her hips, tightening her legs around him. "Draco - more - "

Ever the expert, he made sure she didn't have to say it again. She almost didn't hear Ron swearing at Harry over the sound of herself crying out in Malfoy's ear.

Thank god for magic, she thought, congratulating herself breathlessly as Malfoy collapsed against her. She'd had the foresight to silently cast a muffliato when they'd entered the tent, and they'd certainly needed it.

They didn't call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing.

Things did not improve between her two best friends, and unfortunately, neither did her focus. Her initial need to intervene between Harry and Ron waned pitifully against her increasing enjoyment of her stolen time with Malfoy.

"Should I stop them?" she asked, wriggling out of her jeans as Harry snapped at Ron yet again for his intolerable brooding.

Malfoy yanked her into his chest, their bodies colliding with a hard smack. "Give me fifteen minutes," he said gruffly, picking her up and tossing her on the bed.

She made a muffled sound of protestation as he clambered over her, his lips on hers as she fought to breathe. "Make it twenty," she managed, and the smirk he mischievously tossed her way made her entire body throb in anticipation.

It was entirely Draco Malfoy's fault that things happened the way they did.

Draco had tried to avoid actually leaving the bed when he was awake at night - he knew Granger had been rather panicked when it had happened the first time, and in a rare moment of empathy, he thought he would feel the same, thus determining it was poor form - but as he saw Harry slip out the tent entrance, he didn't hesitate to follow.

The dark-haired wizard was wandering aimlessly, and Draco feared for a moment he meant to run.

"You look rattled," Draco commented, stopping Harry in his tracks.

"I am," Harry said, his voice clipped. "I saw him talk to Theo."

Draco felt his breath leave him temporarily. "Is Theo okay?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. "It seems he brought You-Know-Who some good news."

"Oh." Draco looked down. "So he's that kind of Death Eater."

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Harry warned, and Draco took a seat, sighing.

"Tell me what happened," he said grimly.

"Vol- Sorry, You-Know-Who is after a wand," Harry said. "That's what was stolen from Gregorovitch. And it turns out that Grindelwald stole it."

"Grindelwald?" Draco echoed. "The dark wizard?"

"That's the one." Harry was picking up rocks from the ground and tossing them, a pointless action that seemed to indicate that he didn't know what to do with his excess frustration. "Theo killed him."

"Theo killed Grindelwald?" Draco asked, stunned. "After Gregorovitch? Is he doing this all on the Dark Lord's orders?"

"No, actually," Harry said tentatively. "Vol- You-Know-Who was actually really displeased to hear about it."

Draco frowned. "I thought you said Theo brought good news?"

"He did."

"Okay - and?"

"Well, I think You-Know-Who sent Theo to talk to Grindelwald initially," Harry said slowly, his brow furrowing slightly. "And then You-Know-Who was surprised to find out that Grindelwald had been killed, and not on his orders - and he also couldn't see into Theo's mind, which means Theo is using occlumency - "

"I bet Snape's involved, then," Draco muttered uneasily. "Why wouldn't Snape prevent Theo from taking the Mark?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know," he said blankly. "I'm still not totally sure what to make of Snape."

"I'm with you there," Draco agreed, grimacing. "But anyway. Theo?"

"Yeah. So Theo - he just said he killed Grindelwald to get information from him."

Draco's stomach churned uncomfortably. "Am I crazy?" he asked Harry, looking to him for the kind of reassurance he would normally have sought out from Granger under different circumstances. "Or does that not sound at all like something Theo would do?"

"I don't know," Harry said quickly, raising both hands. "I don't know Theo, and I don't know what it's like for him, either. He's living a nightmare," Harry added, shuddering.

"I know," Draco whispered, fighting a wince. "He's living the nightmare I was supposed to have faced."

"That could change a person," Harry ventured, nodding. "It changed you."

"Would it drive a person to murder, though?" Draco asked skeptically. "I - I just don't see it. Not Theo."

Harry shrugged. "Well, with Gregorovitch, I think it was a mercy kill," he said slowly. "Which could easily have been the case with Grindelwald - I mean, the guy's been in prison for decades, hasn't he?"

"It's more feasible," Draco admitted. "Though still difficult to wrap my head around."

"We'll get to him," Harry said, looking up to meet Draco's eyes. "I promised you that, and I stand by it. We'll get to Theo, and then you can ask him yourself."

Draco grunted gratefully in response; he didn't want to say the words that struck him, though Harry seemed to understand. The words would have been simple enough.

Thank you. I needed to hear that.

"So what did he get from Grindelwald?" Draco asked, shifting away from Harry. "You seemed upset when I came out here."

"The wand that You-Know-Who is looking for used to belong to Grindelwald and was taken by Dumbledore after their duel." He looked pointedly at Draco. "And we both know where that wand is now."

In Draco's pocket, of course. Excellent. How convenient.

"Why didn't you open with that?" Draco snapped, leaping to his feet. "Did it slip your mind that now the Dark Lord is going to be hunting - " He stopped. "Wait. I'm dead."

Harry gave him an impatient look. "Right."

"Well - " Draco frowned. "Now he's definitely going to look into what happened in the tower. I don't think he's going to assume the wand was destroyed in the fire - do you?"

"If he can believe the explosion took out a body - your body - then I don't see why he would question that it could take out a wand," Harry said tightly. "But - I have some other reservations."

"I may never not have reservations," Draco snapped. "Perhaps for the rest of fucking time."

Harry flashed him a look. "Draco."

He sighed. "Fine," Draco replied irritably, sitting down. "What else?"

"First of all," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "Can you tell anything different about the wand?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't told anyone but Granger.

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "It's - well, there's definitely a relationship between me and this wand that wasn't there with my old one."

Harry expression drooped ever so slightly. "I was afraid of that."

"You think that means something?" Draco pressed. "You think he wants this wand because of . . . of something it can do?"

Harry leaned in. "I know this sounds ridiculous," he said in a low voice. "But what if it's the unbeatable wand from Hermione's book? From 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'?"

Draco blinked. "You think it might be one of the Deathly Hallows?" he asked, frowning. "That's - that would be - "

"Crazy, I know," Harry said, nodding fervently. "But doesn't it seem coincidental? Dumbledore had the wand Vold- ugh, You-Know-Who wanted, and then he left Hermione that book - "

"The pieces do seem to fit," Draco said, slightly sickened. "Fuck, and I thought I was making a clever joke when I said he wanted you to find the Hallows."

"What if Vol- damn," Harry swore, forgetting himself. "What if You-Know-Who is after the Hallows?" he asked anxiously. "Could he become Master of Death, like the story says? Do you think that's a real thing?"

Now that was a nightmare.

"I hope not," Draco said warily.

"And do you think I'm supposed to find the Hallows?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that what Dumbledore is trying to tell me? Do I need to become the Master of Death to defeat Vol- him?"

There was an odd, bright flicker in Harry's eyes that gave Draco a distinctly uneasy feeling. He'd never seen the expression before in the other wizard's face - not in all the years they'd known each other - and Draco found he vehemently distrusted it.

"Dumbledore never said that, did he?" Draco said quickly. "He just wanted you to destroy the horcruxes, right?"

"That's all he said," Harry noted. "But he was never all that good about giving all the instructions - "

"Maybe he just wanted you to prevent the Dark Lord from getting his wand," Draco said, treading carefully. He didn't want to lose Harry's confidence, but he felt an inexplicable need to put him off the idea of possessing the Hallows. "I wouldn't go chasing the idea."

Harry grimaced. "You're probably right," he agreed, slightly deflating. "Is there anything else you know about the elder wand from the story? Do you think it's even real?"

"There's been rumors of powerful wands before," Draco said thoughtfully. "Surely wandmakers used to claim they could make unbeatable wands - "

"It must be more than a rumor if You-Know-Who is chasing it though, don't you think?" Harry asked. "He doesn't seem the type to believe in a children's tale."

"Maybe he doesn't know about the Hallows, then," Draco commented, subconsciously taking on Granger's academic tone. "If he's only chasing the wand."

Harry nodded slowly. "You're probably right," he conceded, sighing heavily.

The more Draco thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became. "That wand," he began nervously. "In the story. Someone kills the first brother to take it from him - do you think that the Dark Lord will have to kill to possess the wand, or is that just part of the story?"

"Well, Grindelwald didn't kill Gregorovitch, and Dumbledore didn't kill Grindelwald," Harry said, frowning. "So unless all you have to do is beat the owner of the wand, maybe anyone who has it can use it?"

"One way to find out," Draco said, taking the wand from his pocket and holding it out for Harry.

Was that a miscalculation? He hoped not.

Fuck, did he hope not.

"What should I do?" Harry asked, taking the wand gingerly between his fingers. "Just - cast any spell?"

Draco watched closely, waiting to see if the unnerving spark would appear in Harry's eyes a second time. "Wave it a bit," he suggested. "Like getting a wand from Ollivander's."

He did; nothing.

"Would I feel something?" Harry asked, biting his lip. "Do you feel something?"

Draco put his hand out and Harry deposited the wand in his palm, seeming to exhale uncomfortably as he did so.

"Yes," Draco admitted, feeling the wand pulse steadily even now. "It - I can feel its magic. Even when I'm not using it." He smoothed his hair back, trying to make sense of his thoughts. "It feels like an extension of my own magic, somehow."

"And you did disarm Dumbledore," Harry murmured, thinking. "Tell me the truth," he said suddenly, his tone uncharacteristically ruthless. "Do you think this could be that unbeatable wand?"

Draco sighed uncomfortably. "It . . . could be," he permitted, bowing his head. "There's - there's definitely something inexplicably off about it."

"Okay," Harry said, starting to piece together the scenario at hand. "So Voldem- fuck, You-Know-Who thinks you killed Dumbledore, and that I killed you - so in his mind, I'm the one who would have the wand."

"Fuck," Draco swore, fighting back a laugh. "It's always you, isn't it? Potter, you are such a thorn in the Dark Lord's side."

"Am I fucked?" Harry asked, sitting up rigidly though he seemed to be in a daze. "Be honest. I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"You've been fucked since long before this," Draco reminded him. "You've been fucked since birth, and really, nothing has changed. The only way this gets any worse - since I assume you never planned to have the Dark Lord kill or disarm you to begin with, unbeatable wand or not - "

"No," Harry said loudly. "Not really part of the plan."

" - then the only way this gets worse is if he investigates the Astronomy Tower," Draco said, feeling himself go pale. "The only way this gets worse is if he figures out I'm alive."

"Then we're all fucked," Harry said, clapping Draco's shoulder. "And I'll be in good company."

Hermione woke up to Malfoy at her side, though he felt cold when she burrowed herself into him; she assumed he'd been outside.

"You didn't go anywhere, did you?" she whispered, looking hopefully into his uncharacteristically agitated grey eyes. "Tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

Malfoy paused before answering. "No," he said after a moment. "I didn't do anything. But I need to talk to you."

His eyes traveled across the room to where Harry was playing with the snitch Dumbledore had left him, and Hermione followed his gaze warily.

"Did you and Harry talk last night?" she asked, her voice still quite hushed. She didn't want to rile Ron up first thing in the morning.

Malfoy was hesitating. Something was wrong.

"I have to talk to you in private," he replied uneasily, his lips forming a tight, grim line across his handsome face.

He seemed nervous. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him that way - if ever. Maybe his lack of sleep was getting to him.

"This isn't private?" she asked, gesturing to where they lay tangled together under the covers.

His eyes flicked to Harry. "No," he pronounced grimly. "I need to talk to you alone."

The exchange left her feeling restless and apprehensive; she attempted to busy herself with her usual morning tasks - she had been trying to make a daily effort to get dressed despite the lack of necessity, just to give herself a sense of purpose despite their aimless lounging - but her mind was elsewhere. As soon as Ron and Harry were up and moving around, she sent them out of the tent for water.

"More?" Harry said, giving her a dubious look.

"For tea," she explained hurriedly, rushing them out. "Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, you can't just create it out of thin air - "

"We know," Ron sighed, having heard this from her several times before. "We've got it, Mione."

She should have caught the look of exhaustion and frustration in his eye. She knew him better than anyone, other than Harry; she should have known. She should have known better than to send him out, but she was distracted. She had Malfoy to think about, and that clouded her judgment.

"Tell me what's going on," she said, the instant they'd left.

"The Dark Lord is after this wand," Malfoy told her, taking it out of his pocket and setting it down in front of her. He was certainly not wasting any time; it was clear he'd been thinking about it all morning. "That's what he's sent Theo after."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "But we're already hiding from him, so - "

"I think that this is the wand from the 'Tale of the Three Brothers'," Malfoy explained. "I think it's one of the Deathly Hallows."

She gaped at him. "And - is that why he wants it?"

"I don't think so," he replied curtly. "I doubt he would put any stock in a fairytale, and I told Harry as much."

She frowned. "Then what's the problem?"

"Hermione," he said, smoothing his hair back distressfully. "I think we might already be in possession of all three Deathly Hallows."

"I - what?" she asked, blinking at him. "What - "

"The wand, the cloak, and the stone," he said, enumerating them on his fingers. "This is likely the wand. Harry's cloak has to be the cloak from the story - there isn't a cloak in the world that does what his does, I'm sure of it."

She swallowed with great difficulty, finding her mouth suddenly quite dry. "And the last one?" she asked. "The resurrection stone?"

"I'm not positive," he said hesitantly, though the look on his face told her otherwise. "But I think Dumbledore put it in that snitch he gave Harry."

Well. That certainly seemed right out of Dumbledore's playbook.

"So what does that mean?" she asked anxiously. "If Harry has all three - "

"Correction," Malfoy said gently. "Harry might have two of the Hallows, if my estimation is correct. I have the third, and if I'm not mistaken, he'd have to kill me or disarm me to take possession of it."

"Well, he obviously wouldn't do that," she said indignantly. "Unless - " she paused, giving him a horrified look. "Is that why you wanted to talk to me alone? You think he might try to take it from you?"

"Granger, the story goes that whoever possesses all three Hallows becomes the Master of Death," he said, parsing his words out carefully. "Master of Death," he repeated, as though he thought she might have had trouble comprehending the significance of these words. "For someone who is trying to defeat the world's most dangerous dark wizard, it's obviously a rather tempting title."

"Still!" she exclaimed. "This is Harry we're talking about - "

"He thinks Dumbledore sent him to get the Hallows, Granger," he said, and she saw again the flash of anxiety that came over his features. "And - and I know he's your friend, and you want to see the best in him, but - you didn't see his face, Hermione. Something strange happened to him at the thought of mastering the Hallows."

That was a chilling thought.

"Well - what did you tell him?" she asked, her hands fluttering nervously as she brought them to her face. "Does he know about the stone?"

"The stone being in the snitch is just a guess, and no, I didn't share that with him," Draco said curtly. "And I also told him that if Dumbledore wanted him to possess the Hallows, he would have instructed him to do so."

"I don't know about that," Hermione noted skeptically. "I mean, Dumbledore never took a very reasonable stance as far as explaining his intentions - "

"I know that, and it's only a matter of time before Harry decides the same thing!" Malfoy said urgently, beginning to pace in front of her. "It was a stalling tactic at best, but I just - I'm not sure if it's wise - "

"What do you want to do?" she asked quietly, taking his hands in hers. He calmed at her touch, as he always did. "If you're really worried about this, tell me what you think we should do."

He opened his mouth to respond, but a loud noise from outside drew their attention, and he hesitated.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let them go out alone," he said, pulling open the tent flap and hastily stepping through it. "Fuck, I think Potter's down - "

"What's going on?" she asked, following him. She couldn't quite see Ron and Harry from where she was standing, and that in itself was enough to worry her significantly.

"Go back," Malfoy said suddenly, retreating while facing forward and keeping his eyes on something she couldn't see. She tried to move past him but he threw an arm out, blocking her movement.

"Do not move," he hissed, his eyes wild. "Do not make a sound - "

"What - "

He clapped his hand over her mouth but pulled her forward, tucking her entire body protectively under his arm.

Without the obstruction of Malfoy standing in her way, she could see what had attracted his attention; Ron and Harry were several feet away, both sitting on the ground as though they'd recently been knocked down. They had also - quite unwisely, she thought furiously - vacated the perimeter of the wards that Malfoy had set up.

There were, of course, other issues, and she felt an immutable panic bubble in her chest the moment she identified them.

For one thing - they were not alone.

a/n: Well, I would estimate we are halfway through Marked at this point. Next chapter is the start of a 5-ish chapter plot arc that launches us into new and important territory.

This chapter is dedicated to Nichole O and Mistress-Cinder. Endless thanks for your frequent reviews!