I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in
I'll never meet the ground
Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us
We're far from the shallow now
Shallow, Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper
Draco appeared in a large entryway amid a crack of apparition. Cormac hung onto his arm, tighter than necessary and, even when Draco shook him off, it took far too much effort.
Draco's dragonhide boots clicked on the ceramic as he moved through the home towards Sanguini's study. Several long hallways, a hidden passage, and a charmed fireplace separated the ancient vampire from his front door. Overkill, but not outside the typical quirkiness Draco had come to find in his sire.
Draco rapped his fingers on the frame of an open door, but Sanguini didn't bother to look up. Instead, he continued to gaze down at a ratty, old book, gently turning its worn and yellow pages with seemingly brittle fingers.
"I've brought a guest," Draco said as he stepped over the threshold and into the warm glow of the room. The earthy scent of dusty books assaulted his senses; if he still had a functional respiratory system, he'd have sneezed. "And we have a few questions."
Cormac shadowed Draco closely; every graceful step he took, the floppy-haired idiot was half a step behind. Sanguini continued to turn the pages of his book, eyes scanning the text at a rapid pace. If Draco hadn't known that a vampire brain could absorb information so quickly, he'd accuse his sire of faking it and ignoring his guests.
"Can he see us?" Cormac whispered and pressed his shoulder into Draco's back. "I've heard that old vampires lose their sight—and their hearing. He's not very impressive, is he? Good looking, though, for his age."
Cormac hadn't been lying about how sweet his blood smelled. Draco didn't even know the last time he'd fed, but the fact he was considering the blood of a wizard, rather than an animal, disgusted him. He moved away from Cormac, putting distance between them lest he lose control and rip his throat out.
He didn't bother looking back at Cormac as he answered. "He's exceptional at ignoring distractions. And you, McLaggen, are an enormous distraction."
"He can't just pretend we're not here." Cormac took a bold step towards Sanguini. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he wore a stupid, smarmy grin on his face. "We're guests, after all. He can't have many of those—and it's no wonder why."
"McLagg—"
Draco's voice was cut off as Sanguini rose swiftly from his seat on the luxury, leather sofa. The book lay forgotten in his wake. Black eyes stared at them and a menacing growl ripped from Sanguini's mouth as he flashed his sharp teeth at them. Draco swallowed, his throat like sandpaper, but he was powerless against his sire's whims. He stood quiet and still as Sanguini moved towards Cormac.
"You are a very pretty man." Sanguini's finger traveled the length of Cormac's sharp jaw, and Draco's entire body tensed. "Your blood—it's as sweet as chocolate, isn't it?"
"Probably." Cormac cracked a grin. "Never tried it, if I'm honest."
It took every fiber of Draco's willpower to maintain his composure. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smack Cormac around his floppy blond head, or if he wanted to explain to Sanguini that the git was already insufferable enough as it was; no need to fill his head with nonsense about the quality of his blood. In the end, Draco stood eerily still and volleyed his gaze between the two as they engaged in their—whatever the hell it was.
"I can make you invulnerable," Sanguini said as his fingers curled around Cormac's perfectly square chin. "I can give you the entire world."
Cormac's eyes glittered. He raised his hand to Sanguini's and rested his palm over it. "Tell me more."
"Fucking hell," Draco muttered, rubbing the notch between his brows. "We don't have time for this. Sire, can you save the eye-fucking for later?"
"You have always been too tetchy, Draco." Sanguini dragged Cormac to his seat and settled in next to him. "You know how important it is for me to have beauty and power in my coven. This young man will make a fine addition."
"Yeah, I don't doubt it." Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling and took a seat on the arm of a chair across from them. "Listen, Sanguini, we have a delicate situation involving one of your former… acquaintances."
Sanguini inclined his chin, his fingers roving over the muscles of Cormac's arm, almost lovingly in their gentle strokes. Draco tried so bloody hard to keep from snapping at his sire, especially as Cormac was grinning like a muppet over the fawning attention he was getting from a centuries-old vampire.
"I have quite a few former acquaintances, precious one." Draco cringed at the moniker, but Sanguini prattled on regardless. "It does no good for you to pussyfoot around the subject. If you expect me to assist, you will need to use your grown up words."
Draco clenched his teeth and spoke through them. "We need more information regarding Desdemona." Sanguini paused his inappropriate fondling of Cormac—who didn't appear to care one bit that an aloof vampire was sweetening him up for a meal —and exposed his sharp teeth with a hiss. "Please."
"She's back in England?"
"Yes, sire," Draco said with a slight nod of his head. "She's been back for several months, from my understanding."
Sanguini stood, a fluid movement that would have appeared unnatural if Draco hadn't witnessed it on multiple occasions during the past year. "I knew it," he whispered to himself, his fists balling up at his sides.
"She's created quite the issue for the Ministry of Magic." Draco purposefully left out the Order of the Phoenix. "It appears that she's creating an…army."
In a flash, Sanguini had picked up a glass vase from a nearby table and threw it into the wall to Draco's right. "The woman cannot simply leave a man to his eternal life in peace ."
"Sire?" Draco inclined his chin, canting it just so. His gaze flicked to Cormac, who had perched himself on the edge of the sofa and watched his new vampire friend with a dopey, lovesick expression. "What is your history with her?"
Sanguini sank to the sofa and appeared to stare off into nothing, his pointed fingernail poking into his chin as he slipped deeper into his thoughts. "We were paramours." The term rolled off his tongue lovingly. He blinked, lips twitching at whatever memory he dragged up. "Nearly betrothed by the old laws and the new."
Draco tried to picture it; Sanguini in his leatherwear, looking every bit a pirate rogue, and Desdemona, draped in the brightest pink and dazzling, gaudy jewelry. He frowned and squinted, trying to imagine the two vampires as old lovers, but couldn't quite make them fit. Sanguini seemed to have noticed and laughed.
"Times have not changed quite as much as you'd expect, youngling," Sanuini said as he reached for Cormac and drew him against his side. "The good girls still fancy themselves with a bad boy."
Draco's frown turned into a disgusted grimace; he didn't really need the visual if he were honest. "She's not all that good though, is she?"
"Oh, she was good." Sanguini smirked as Cormac laid his head on his shoulder. He patted the side of Cormac's head as if he were a puppy. "Desperate for magic and power, mind you. But she was a good girl—liked being told so, too." He raised Cormac's wrist to his lips and ran his nose along the throbbing vein. "Do you like being told you're good, sweet?"
Cormac made a noise of assent and his eye fluttered closed.
Imbecile , Draco thought as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Right. So, what happened between the two of you, then? Can you give us any information at all to put a stop to her... activities in Nottinghamshire?"
Sanguini's teeth scraped along Cormac's perfectly tan skin. "You say 'we' and 'us'. Who are you working with? Who is trying to stop my former paramour from her dastardly deeds?"
Merlin and all the ancient Gods, did he loathe his sire. Draco's nostrils flared and he jammed his molars together. "As I've pointed out, she is creating a problem for the Ministry. She's turning more muggles than can be managed, and she's risking the Statute of Secrecy, which is prompting the Ministry to draw up legislation that will round up vampires and have us slaughtered."
"Oh-ho, I'd like to see them try." Sanguini sunk his teeth into Cormac's wrist and closed his eyes. When he opened them and pulled away, his eyes were onyx and his lips covered in dark red blood.
Cormac's eyes fluttered shut and he tipped his head back along the back of the sofa. The vein in his neck throbbed, and Draco licked the corner of his lip.
It had been far too long since Draco had fed. The sugary scent of Cormac's blood hit him, and he began to salivate. His entire body thrummed at the prospect of fresh, human blood. Wrenching his gaze away from the steady stream pouring from Cormac's wrist, Draco snapped his mouth closed around his sharp canines and tried to occlude his mind against the onslaught of hunger.
"Sire— please . Tell me what you know."
Sanguini's tongue slipped over Cormac's bloody wrist and he smiled at Draco, looking every part a madman. "Des is a squib, pet." He licked the point of his tooth. "She knows deeply of magic, and she'll stop at nothing to harness it."
Well, that was a revelation.
Sanguini didn't even bother to wait for Draco to reply, instead he hitched Cormac's wrist to his mouth and closed his lips over the flow of blood once again. He moaned and Cormac made a noise deep in his throat as he placed his free hand to the back of Sanguini's head.
"Yes—right there, oh Merlin— "
Draco opened his mouth to ask more, but his sire flicked his fingers and dismissed him. It was a command he couldn't ignore, and so he scowled as he left Sanguini's drawing room with very little information to help the Order. Even though Draco had very little affection for the twat personally, part of him wondered if Cormac would leave the castle human. It wasn't likely, and given how Draco had grappled with being turned into a vampire, he wore a genuine scowl until he disapparated from Sanguini's doorstep.
Fucking vampires .
"I was chucked out of Sanguini's home." Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his face a mask of calm. "Cormac's…well, he'll probably lament the loss of his reflection for a long time to come."
"Cormac?" Hermione arched a brow and mimicked his stance. "You didn't let Sanguini turn him—please tell me you didn't."
He shrugged. "Nothing I could do about it. What my sire commands is not for me to argue."
Hermione was prepared for a fight, shoulders squared and spine straight. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but never got the chance. Harry, Theo, Tracey, and Dudley all marched into the War Room one after another and effectively stopped her argument in its tracks.
"Dudley and I are going to Desdemona's coven now," Tracey said as she planted her butt against the tabletop. She chewed on a piece of gum and rested her head against Dudley's shoulder. "The Bloodletting Ceremony is due to start just after midnight, and rumor has it that the girl they're draining for the ceremony is being kept in Desdemona's dungeon."
"Dungeon?" Harry lifted his eyebrows and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe it's not such a good idea for Hermione and Malfoy to go alone, without the rest of the Order. Last time—"
"Last time was a reconnaissance mission gone wrong," Hermione said, her voice brokering no room for argument. "This time, we know exactly what to expect and we have a mission. We have a portkey to get the muggle straight to Mungo's—she'll be taken care of there and Desdemona won't even know we were at the ceremony."
"Save the muggle." Theo glanced at Draco and grinned. "Never thought we'd champion that cause, eh?"
"Sanguini said that Des has some form of magic." He turned fully towards Harry. "But she wants more—she's a squib, apparently mad at her lot in life."
"She's like a… hot Filch," Theo said, a ridiculous laugh following his words. Both Harry and Draco followed suit, but Hermione groaned.
"I don't know why you think this is so funny," she contended, her prim brow raised as her eyes darted between the three of them. "Filch leeched off of witches like Umbridge and wizards like Snape. That comparison does little to make me feel warm and fuzzy."
"Plus, it's disturbing." Theo added, pulling a face. "Imagine that relationship."
The boys were all quiet for several moments.
Hermione sighed while placing a hand on her hip and turning to Tracey and Dudley. "Do you know anything else about the dungeon? How do we get down there, will anyone be watching? Anything at all you can tell us?"
Desdemona's bloodletting ceremony required its male attendees to wear black and its female attendees to wear white, which seemed like a terrible idea given the nature of the ceremony. However, Hermione abided by the requirement and side-along apparated with Draco in a flowing gown of ivory, into the middle of a forest, much like the previous time they'd traveled to Nottinghamshire.
There wasn't going to be any hanging about and mingling with the coven. Straight in, down the stairs to the dungeon that Dudley had described as 'scary as fuck', and then straight out with the muggle girl knocked unconscious. Simple. Easy-peasy.
Hermione glanced at Draco, who withdrew his wand from the inside pocket of his cloak. "We can't stun the guards. If someone finds them, they'll swarm the dungeon before we're able to get the girl out."
"What do you suggest then, Granger?" Draco lifted his judgey, perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She hadn't noticed before, but the underneath his eyes were bruised, and his lips were stricter than normal—no sign of his fangs at all. "If anyone recognizes us, we're bollocksed anyway, and those guards have laid eyes on me before."
There didn't seem to be an alternative to stunning the guards, but Hermione didn't like the idea. It was the first in a very long list of things that could go wrong. Their plan was becoming more foolish than not with every moment. Hermione sighed and pulled her wand from the holster on her thigh.
"Fine. We stun them. But—" She pointed her finger at Malfoy and narrowed her eyes. "We have to Obliviate the memories, otherwise we're never going to get back out of there."
Draco nodded and led them to the front gate of the castle where two burly guards stood watch. The closest to Hermione grunted and the other cracked his knuckles and glared menacingly at Draco's approach.
"Oi, Louie, look 'oo decided ta'show 'is face again." The guard bared his crooked teeth and took a step forward.
Hermione didn't hesitate; she silently stunned him and turned her wand on the other, bigger man. Both fell to the ground, face first within seconds of each other, and Draco bent over each of them, muttering "Obliviate" with his wand at their temples.
She hopped from foot to foot, craning her neck to take stock of the space around them. It appeared deserted as far as she could tell, but she still didn't want to stay too long to find out. She reached over and tugged on Draco's sleeve.
"C'mon—let's go."
He allowed himself to be dragged through the gate and into the front door of the castle. The entryway was lit with a beautiful, warm yellow hue, and a plush, red carpet led the way to the same grand ballroom they'd been attacked in the last time they were there. Hermione urged Draco in the other direction, hoping that no one would notice they weren't following the path laid out for guests.
"Dudley said to the left, down a long corridor, and enter the door next to the portrait of the mustachioed man." Hermione's eyes flicked around the hall as they walked, trying to find the portrait that Dudley had described. Further and further they went, before turning a corner—the only direction they could head—and continuing on.
"Does something feel off to you?" Draco moved ever closer to her. "Someone's watching us."
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said, a tight, nervous chuckle escaping her. She glanced at the nearest portrait—a woman in furs with a large, flowery hat perched on her head—and then she felt it. Something...watching. "Oh, that's creepy. Okay, let's hurry. It shouldn't be much further, surely."
It wasn't. But eventually they found the portrait of the mustachioed man hanging near the end of a long corridor in a gilded frame. He looked like a tycoon, with a mustache that was so exaggerated it could be a cartoon. He wore a bowler hat, a bow tie, and thick, brown suspenders.
Hermoine swore she saw his eyes move to follow them towards the door next to his portrait. "Draco." She stepped into his body and nudged him to look at the man whose eyes were now facing forward. "I think these are magical paintings."
"Maybe she nicked them." Draco wrapped his hand around the handle of the door and pushed it open. The door creaked, and led to a set of narrow stairs that went down into darkness. "We lose the high ground in a dungeon, you know."
She'd honestly tried not to think of it that way. But, he wasn't wrong—as much as it pained her to admit it. If they were caught, they were buggered.
"After you then." Hermione gestured for him to go first and received a very condescending look from him. She sneered, a proper one that Malfoy could appreciate, and jutted her chin in the direction of the dark dungeon. "Unless you're too scared?"
He swore, and took the stairs two at a time. His footsteps echoed and, as she followed him, Hermione closed the door behind her. When they reached the bottom of the steps, she collided with Draco's back. She steadied herself by placing her hands on his hips.
"This is…" Draco whispered as his head turned from side to side.
The smell hit her first. Blood and ammonia sent a jolt of nausea through her. "Disgusting."
Hermione peeked around his tall body and her mouth dropped open. The dungeon was a large room, with four cages on either side—eight in total. Each was lit up with torchlight beside them, casting eerie shadows across the room. Two of the cages had bodies inside. She gasped, and maneuvered herself around Draco to the closest cage. It had tall, thick bars that were covered in bumpy black paint, and offered her a clear view of the person inside. A girl, probably in her early twenties, with long red hair and a pale, freckled face, sat against the far wall, furthest from the door of the cage.
"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked the girl, giving her a cursory look for any obvious injuries. She spotted nothing and the girl shook her head. Poking her wand to the lock, Hermione muttered, " Alohomora ."
Draco moved off somewhere behind her, and spoke in a low voice to the other prisoner. The cage door made a harsh, high-pitched noise as it swung open. The girl scrambled to her feet and bolted out of her confined space. She cried and crushed herself to Hermione's body.
"It's okay," Hermione said in a low, soothing voice. "It's okay. We've got you. Draco—" She half-turned her body to see Draco with a man hanging from his shoulder, thick and covered in several puncture wounds that leaked a steady flow of dark blood.
He turned to face her and his eyes were blown wide, with purple welts underneath, and the whites of his eyes nearly all black. She almost dropped the redheaded girl to the ground.
"Let's go." His voice was a snarl that ripped from his throat, the most feral noise she'd ever heard.
It snapped her into motion, and she carried-dragged the redhead up the stairs, both of them with their shoulders pressed against the stone wall. When they arrived at the door, Hermione steadied the girl with her legs and one arm, using her other to open it and peer outside. The coast looked clear, so she shoved the door fully open and stumbled into the corridor.
"What's your name?" Hermione asked the girl as she jostled her to get a firmer grip around her waist.
"Emily," she whispered, voice hoarse as if she'd been screaming for days. "I think there's something wrong with these people, they looked like...like…"
"This one's bleeding all over my suit." Draco shifted in front of Hermione and Emily.
Emily screamed and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "He's a friend. We're friends. Emily, I need you to listen to me. I'll take my hand off your mouth, but you have to promise me you won't scream, okay?" The girl nodded and Hermione removed her hand. "Good, right. Okay, we are going to send you somewhere safe, somewhere you can be treated for your wounds, alright? But you have to trust us."
"Granger—" Draco's voice came as a warning, low and impossibly strained. "Someone's coming; I can hear them around the corn—"
Hermione whipped herself around, scrambling with Emily in tow. At the far end of the corridor, two lean, tall men began to sprint towards them.
"Draco, take her. I can…" She clutched her wand and held it aloft. "Give them the portkey, make them hold onto one another for support. You and I can disapparate— Impedimenta! —"
She didn't wait for Draco to answer; she shoved Emily onto his body and hoped that he'd wrap his arm around her to support her. Hermione dashed forwards and thrust her wand out, tossing spell after spell at the men, who dodged them quickly. Vampires, they had to be.
"Granger!" Draco shouted at her, but she didn't stop running until she reached her assailants in front of the portrait of the woman in furs. She thought she caught the woman's eyes moving out of the corner of her eye, but didn't have time to investigate. "Granger, fuck's sake —"
Hermione focused all of her might on non-verbal spells: Confringo—Stupefy—Locomotor Mortis. It was the last one that finally struck one of the two and he tumbled down onto his face while the other stood just feet shy of Hermione. He growled, baring his pointy fangs, and Hermione swallowed as she tried to think of something, anything, to take him down.
He lunged and she shrieked as she stabbed her wand forward and into his eye. Just as she pulled it from the bleeding, swollen socket, amid yelling and long arms swiping at her body, a hand closed around her shoulder, and the corridor around her disappeared.
They appeared just outside Potter Cottage. In the dead of night, Godric's Hollow was quiet and lit only by a sliver of silvery moonlight. Hermione's ivory dress was filthy from the dungeon floors and the forest. She was out of breath and running high on adrenaline as she turned towards Draco, ready to berate him for disapparating them before she'd finished off the second vampire.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but before she could do so, Draco rounded on her with an angry scowl and wide, blackened eyes. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
He crowded her, backing her into the door of the cottage. Hermione pressed her hands to his chest and shoved at him. "I did what I had to do. Emily would have died had I not—"
"You!" Draco growled and boxed Hermione in between his hands. His face was inches from hers, and his sharp teeth poked at his bottom lip. " You could have died."
"I wouldn't have—"
Something collided with the door next to her head—his fist, maybe—and Hermione snapped her mouth shut again.
He spoke in the calmest voice, a deadly control softening his words. "Do you have a death wish? Or do you just like to drive me mad by risking your life?"
They stared at one another. Hermione wasn't sure how to answer; of course she didn't have a death wish, but she'd never sit idly by and allow someone to come to harm if she could help it. Never. She opened her mouth to protest, but watched as Draco's eyes flicked to her lips. Her breath hitched, and her stomach squirmed.
His lips touched hers with barely enough pressure for her to register the feeling, before he pulled back and looked her in the eyes again. Blackness overtook his irises as his tongue darted out and slipped along his canines. Hermione clenched her hands, fisting his cloak in her fingers. She'd forgotten how soft his lips were, how perfectly they fit over hers.
A breath escaped her, and then he kissed her again—quicker, firmer—as his hands moved to her hair and tangled in the roots. He made a noise in the back of his throat and pressed his body against hers, pinning her against the door. The sharp points of his teeth slid along her tongue and she moaned. Hermione unhooked the buttons of his cloak and shoved her hands under his shirt. His muscles jumped under her touch and he kissed her even harder.
Trailing her fingers against Draco's hard abdomen, Hermione traced the top of his trousers and then yanked him even closer. His hard erection pressed against her hip and he hissed. His tooth suddenly snagged on her lip and he jumped away from her.
He stared down at her lips, looking positively feral as she swiped at them and found hot, sticky blood that he'd drawn.
"I didn't mean—"
Hermione brought her blood coated finger to his lips and smeared the blood against them. A snarl ripped from Draco's throat, and she was crushed between his body and the door again in an instant, with this tongue in her mouth demanding more from her. He gave her no time at all to consider the taste of her own blood as he deepened the kiss. He hitched his arm around her waist and didn't allow for even a hair's breadth between them.
She forgot how good he felt, how solid he was underneath her fingertips. Merlin, she could kiss Draco Malfoy until the end of time and it still wouldn't be enough.
They stayed lip-locked for what felt like forever, groping and nipping and tugging. As Draco's lips descended to her throat, Hermione tilted her head up and gazed at the starry sky. His teeth grazed her skin and her pulse fluttered like a snitch's wings; her body craved his bite, but her mind snapped to attention. She placed her hands onto his chest and shoved at him, lips curling as he growled and pulled back.
"I don't have much self control left."
A laugh bubbled up to her lips. "I don't think we want to shag in the garden."
"Speak for yourself." Draco ran his fingers through her hair and tucked a springy strand of her curls behind her ear.
She grinned at him. "Technically, we still haven't been on a fifth date."
With his palm flat against the door, Draco leaned down and placed a kiss at one corner of her lips and then the other. "Technically, a masquerade ball counts as a date."
"Not when it ends in me nearly dying."
"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen." He said it with such resolve, it dashed the playful buzz in the air and replaced it with something more serious."Go out with me, Granger. A proper fifth date."
Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him in close again. She mumbled her agreement and then captured his lips in hers.
It was some time later when they finally separated; Hermione's lips swollen and red and Draco's eyes the deepest black she'd ever seen—like pools of black diamonds.
"Oi! I know you two are having a moment or whatever—"
Hermione startled in Draco's arms, but he refused to let her go. Instead, he held her just as close, but turned his face to the side in the direction of Theo's voice. She followed Draco's gaze and found Theo's disembodied head poking out of the window.
"We have a bit of an emergency here."
"A bit ?" Harry's voice echoed. "It's more than a bit. Tell them to get their arses inside now."
Theo leveled them with a serious glare and lifted a brow. "You heard Boy Wonder. In you come."
The window slammed shut, leaving Draco and Hermione alone in their post-kiss, awkward embrace. She slowly brought her gaze back to Draco, who was staring at her intensely through wide, black eyes.
His lips were stained red as they lifted at the corners. "Sounds ominous."
"Doesn't it always?" Hermione reached behind her and twisted the doorknob. She tangled her fingers in Draco's and led him into the cottage where Harry and Theo stood waiting. "What's up?"
Harry, bless him, lifted a finger to the underside of his bottom lip and pretended to wipe it off. Hermione mimicked the motion and Harry nodded at her, not bothering to hide the downward turn of his lips as she smudged the blood onto her ivory dress.
"There's been an incident," Theo explained, after a silent exchange of eye contact with Draco. "After you two left the coven tonight with those two muggles, Tracey got wind from one of her contacts. Desdemona had a bit of a meltdown—went on a rampage in the local town."
"What?" Hermione stepped closer to Harry, her hand falling out of Draco's. "A rampage?"
"The Ministry's going to be out for vampire blood now," Harry said, nodding his head towards Draco. "You'll want to stay here rather than at Sanguini's. We can make up a light-tight room for you until we sort this out."
Hermione's head swiveled to catch Draco's eyes flash, his grey iris swallowing up the black. "Yeah, right. I should send a note to Sanguini. He'll need to prepare his wards."
"Get a note out to Dudley to stay away from Desdemona's castle from now on," Theo said to Harry. "She might have put two and two together by now." Harry gave one firm nod and left the room. Theo cracked a grin and rocked on his heels. "Sooooo, what's new with the pair of you?"
Draco and Hermione glanced at one another, and without a word, Hermione hurried after Harry.
Nothing was new— her old feelings were back, stronger than ever. But now they had a murderous vampire to contend with, along with a bloodthirsty Ministry. Now was not the time for her feelings for Draco Malfoy to get in the way.
