Shaelune

Part 10

Resolutions and Halfhearted Betrayal

Ginny closed the door to Hermione's room breathlessly. "You kissed him, didn't you?" she blurted, running over and jumping to sit beside her on the bed.

"No!" Hermione said quickly. "I mean, of course not! Why would I do that?"

"You did," Ginny accused smugly, pointing at her. "You kissed Draco Malfoy!"

"I didn't."

"So tell me everything," Ginny said, settling in as though she'd be staying for awhile.

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Even if I had kissed him, which I didn't, I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!"

"No. Leave it."

"Please?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not polite, plus, you'll hold it over my head. I know Weasleys can't keep a secret if their lives depend on it."

"That's true," Ginny conceded. "All right, don't tell me." She turned away and started looking through Hermione's wardrobe, then whipped back around. "Please?"

Hermione laughed. "What am I wearing today?"

Ginny withdrew a black skirt that could be loosely defined as short, followed by a freshly transfigured empire-waist top in shades of gold and green. "Perfect for the aftermath of a Slytherin-Gryffindor hook-up," she said dreamily, adding a pair of black sandals to the pile on the bed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, as Ginny obviously would delude herself into believing what she wanted to, and slipped on the clothes, zipping the skirt more easily than she had when she'd tried it on last Christmas. Perhaps she'd lost weight; what with all the late-night research, she hadn't had much time to eat, and the house-elf-baked pastry and this morning's coffee were all she'd consumed the past twenty-four hours.

Ginny brought over a pair of small, shimmering green hoop earrings and inserted them into Hermione's newly pierced ears for her. "Lovely," she pronounced, stepping back. "What are you planning on doing today?"

"Probably more research," Hermione said. "Sometime this afternoon, I guess I'll get some sleep, and tonight I have to meet with Malfoy again."

Ginny thought for a moment. "All right, don't change for the meeting," she said. "Call me when you wake up, and I'll help you do your hair, add a cloak to keep warm, and you should be okay."

"Thanks," Hermione said, half-sarcastically; Malfoy'd seemed to like her more without Ginny's help.

Draco had come upstairs through the rickety back stairs accessible from beneath the balcony, and immediately been overtaken by the stench permeating his room. A vase occupied by some kind of rotting flower stood on the end table next to his bed; the water was brown and saturated with particles of something crumbling and dark, and a note was tucked between the decaying petals of one of the blooms. Draco removed the note and muttered "Incendio!;" the foliage quickly bent and disintegrated under the assault of the white-gold flames issuing from his wand. The paper read:

Draco~

Haven't seen you latley, thouht I'd bring somthing by- should cheer you up, you seemed a littel down when I saw you last. My room number's 287- Ill be their all day if you want to come by. I might come to see you!

Ether way,

Lots of love,

~Pansy

The y in her signature was clumsily curled, and Draco had to laugh at the amount of spelling mistakes in the letter. He burned it, too, and tossed the vase over the rail of the balcony, hoping to get rid of some of the smell. The shards of smoking, patterned glass crashed to the brick patio below, and muddy water trickled over them sluggishly.

Several hours later, reviewing the issues of the Daily Prophet he'd taken from the inn archives, he heard feminine laughing from the room next door and recognized Granger's rare giggle (he usually only got sarcastic "ha, ha, ha"s from her). A knock on the door provided happy distraction, and Draco, who hadn't yet put his wand down, waved it open with a quiet "Aperio."

Pansy crept in, a shy smile on her face, her golden-blond hair hanging leisurely around bare shoulders. The twilight through his partially shaded windows combined with the glow from the fire near the door flattered her, and Draco found himself comparing Pansy's kisses (when was the last time? Two, three months ago? Maybe at Christmastime after the Malfoy's annual Snow Ball during Christmas break?) to the mind-blowing one he'd just had with the now quiet girl a bathroom away from him. While the latter had definitely been fireworks-worthy due to its spontaneity and constrained feel, Pansy's had always been genuinely ardent, infused with her exhilaration at actually kissing him; they fostered his ego, something always welcome, and she wasn't bad looking as a sort of trophy girlfriend, either.

She came to sit beside him, and Draco noticed her looking around for the flowers she'd sent him. "Oh, those? I put them in the bathroom; mudbloods stink, you know."

Pansy nodded empathetically. "My partner's Justin Finch-Fletchley, he's Muggle-born too. I know how you feel."

Not unless you just made out passionately with him, Draco thought. "I just try to have as little contact with her as possible," he said to Pansy. "So how was your day yesterday?"

Surprise crossed Pansy's face; he supposed she wasn't used to his expressing interest in her well-being. But she covered it quickly, and bit her lip coyly, leaning closer to him. "It would have been better if I'd seen you at all. That mudblood's been monopolizing you, Draco." She toyed with the top button of his shirt and looked up at him. Pansy's eyes were amazingly dilated; for a second, he wondered if she was drunk, but he couldn't smell alcohol on her breath. She'd finished unfastening his shirt, and he beat her to the kiss. It was interesting- maybe she thought it was sexy to act girlish and innocent, then immediately start working him like a slut, tongue throughout the kiss, chest up against his, sliding one of her legs over his to straddle his lap. And he had to admit, it kind of was; not having to coax a girl into going there was refreshing, as Granger had obviously hated the idea so much she broke the spell, when neither of them had been able to before. Draco wouldn't have minded doing her, it'd be a nice little conversation piece for the dinner table when they got back- "Oh, by the way, I fucked Saint Potter's favorite mudblood last week,"- and he couldn't say it wouldn't be fun.

"Draco," Pansy moaned, and he refocused his thoughts, wrapping his arms around her and standing up, feeling for the bed behind them and laying her atop the blankets. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and he quickly unhooked and removed hers. She was willing, and at least it'd get his mind off Granger. But as he held Pansy, pliant and warm, underneath him, he couldn't help but mentally transform her straight, blonde hair into dark curls, damp with sweat but still impossibly smooth and cold.

Hermione sighed. It was after eleven; Ginny had just left after styling her hair so that careless tendrils fell across her collarbone. It was definitely going to be awkward meeting Malfoy after what had happened that morning, and she wasn't looking forward to it, but supposed she'd better go, or they wouldn't end up meeting at all.

The door was open to his room, but Hermione instantly regretted not knocking first. Malfoy was asleep in bed, chest bare (anything else that might not have been clothed was hidden beneath the covers), and Pansy Parkinson was lying beside him; Hermione got a rather excessive view of her chest, and quickly turned away. She didn't know what her reaction to that was, except that she was definitely feeling some strong emotions: happy that Malfoy seemed to have somewhat digested what she'd told him last night, sad for Pansy that he would never see her as a lover, just a toy, angry that he'd forgotten their meeting in favor of well this, and an inexplicable disappointment and feeling of betrayal that so soon after what she'd thought had been a pretty amazing kiss, he'd gone and slept with someone else. Especially Pansy, who she'd felt superior to after they'd shared the effects of the spell. Hermione was unsure of what to do; finally, after glancing back at the expression of untroubled bliss on his face, she closed the door and left.

Perhaps ten minutes later, her door clicked open, and Malfoy was standing there, wearing only a pair of wrinkled pants, his hair still not slicked back, eyes clouded drowsily. "Voyeur tendencies, Granger? Wouldn't Potter like to know, maybe he'd lock his door next time he fucks Weasley."

Hermione simply looked at him obdurately. "We were meeting tonight, weren't we, Malfoy?"

"Maybe. Sex tends to kind of impair one's specific memory for a while."

"We were. And don't brag that you have a prostitute ready and waiting to suit your every need, it's unattractive." Hermione closed and stacked her book neatly atop the others on her desk.

"Ooh, is someone jealous?" Malfoy took a seat in the velvet-upholstered armchair opposite her. "I told you already Pansy was convenient for fucking once in a while. I don't have any obligation to explain myself to you, of all people."

Hermione shook her head. "I honestly don't care who you fuck,' as you so delicately put it, in your spare time, as long as it doesn't interfere with my grades and my life. If you had been able to hold back your hormonal urges for a few hours until after we could meet, I would have been fine with you being with Pansy. "

Malfoy laughed. "Are you joking? Your grades are your life, Granger, and you know you would still have been jealous." She gave him a skeptical look. "As much as you want to deny it, I'm pretty good at reading people's emotions, especially when someone makes it as easy as you do."

Hermione turned away so he couldn't see her face. "So you would have been fine if, totally hypothetically, I'd been late, and you'd walked in to see me in bed with Ron. Naked," she added.

Malfoy cringed in mock disgust. "Hypothetically, I would have been fine," he said. "If a little nauseated. And mentally scarred." He smirked. "But you know my reputation, and if you're really as smart as you repute yourself to be, you would have knocked first. Chances are, we might not have been sleeping."

Hermione pulled a face, then changed the subject. "Can we meet now, at least?"

Pansy walked in then, clad in a sheet wrapped around her toga-style, flushed from whatever she and Malfoy had done earlier. "Draco, honey," she cooed, then glanced at Hermione. "Oh. And the mudblood." She turned back to Malfoy and wrapped herself around him. "Is this important? Because I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Pansy," Malfoy told her, tracing a finger down her cheek slowly, and she giggled as he escorted her through the door.

"You're disgusting," Hermione spat as soon as she left. "To keep leading her on like that. And you're totally unfaithful to her, too."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I think we need to discuss this morning, Granger. We seem to have different ideas of what happened."

"Oh, really?" Hermione said, standing up. "I think it's pretty clear. The time-loop spell made us imitate what Chalybsis and Alexandria were doing, and it wasn't our decision at all."

He crossed his arms, obviously ready for a good argument. "Are you sure? I'm sure we both know it wasn't exactly forced the entire way."

Hermione snorted. "Yes, Malfoy, I have a burning desire to sneak off into the woods and madly make love to you." She rolled her eyes. "In. Your. Dreams."

"My dreams? Don't forget that I'm the self-absorbed ingrate who's done and deserted every decent-looking girl in the school, Granger. You're the virgin Gryffindor, hopelessly devoted to permanently stringing Potter and Weasley along."

Hermione had to admit he had a point; it was a lot more plausible, or would seem that way to the school gossip mavens, that she'd have a crush on Malfoy. "How about this: it didn't happen, we never kissed, we don't go down to the pool ever again, and we turn in a report about the torrid love affair of Alexandria and Chalybsis without mentioning anything about how it affected us."

"So keep it a secret."

"Right."

Malfoy sat down again, this time in the chair she'd been in. "Do you honestly think de Lunariam and Malfoy told their classmates about what was happening?"

"What?" Hermione wasn't following.

"What if we're still channeling them? What if we only needed to be down there once for that long for the spell to affect us?"

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, telling herself it was just speculation, but she knew it was definitely a possibility. "Then we'll search your room for" what was it Chalybsis had used to kill her? "Well, weapons, and give them to someone else for safekeeping. That way you won't be able to kill me." It sounded so strange to hear herself saying that, taking precautions with her murderer's help.

Malfoy laughed. "How do you know I even have any weapons in my room, Granger? Besides, even if I don't have a dagger or something when I go into this trance, I could still drown you in the pool." He stood up opposite her. "Face it, I'm tall, you're short, I'm strong, you're a girl." He grinned and added nastily, "I'm a Malfoy, you're a mudblood."

Hermione shrugged. "Then we'll have to go to Dumbledore. This enchantment obviously isn't safe." Just as she turned to pick up her bag, her hand convulsed, and she fell to her knees, her legs becoming increasingly weak.

"Granger?" Draco didn't like her, but he wasn't going to leave her to have a stroke or whatever was happening. "Are you all right?"

She fell backward, forcing him to catch her by the arms before she could hit the ground; her eyes were shadowed by something opaque and colorless, and her lips slightly parted. Her body shook one last time before she seemed to awake again; picking herself up, she quickly turned the tables and pushed him onto the bed.

Whoa, Draco thought. What's going on?

Of course. The enchantment. It would have been something to joke about for years if Granger'd suddenly gone dominatrix on him, but this was, frankly, a little frightening; she was alive, certainly, but she was acting sort of silently robotic. But she'd caught him off guard; even possessed, the mudblood wasn't stronger than he was, and he threw her off, drawing his wand before she could even get up. "Finite Incantatem!" he yelled, and she passed out again, closing her eyes this time.

When she reopened them, they were comforting, normal brown. Draco sighed in relief. "What happened?" she murmured, sitting up.

"You proved me right," he told her. "The spell's infected you, at least."

"What did I do?"

Draco smirked. "You told me your deepest, darkest secrets and desires, including the password to your tower and an invitation to come visit you at all hours of the night."

Granger glared at him, but a slight blush spread across her cheeks. "Come on, Malfoy."

"Well, close. Your eyes glazed over, and you threw me backwards on the bed. Although that was some serious temptation, using my virtuous instincts, I managed to bring you out of the trance." He glanced at her sideways. "You can thank me later."

She looked worried. "How long will it be until that happens to you?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"This is insane." Granger cradled her head in her hands. "Do you know where Dumbledore's staying? We have to get him to do something."

"I don't know, I'm kind of enjoying this," Draco said slyly. "You, all nervous and anxious am I really that bad a kisser, that we have to go to Dumbledore?"

"No," she replied quietly. "I'm just scared."

"Of me?" he said, placing a hand on his chest in mock surprise.

She was silent for a moment. "Of us. I don't want to die, Malfoy. Maybe you want to kill me, I don't know, but it's just surreal that you would go along with something we're evidently supposed to fight against."

"What do you mean?"

Granger turned her gaze toward the open window, where the wind whistled through and made the curtains swirl in a coquettish dance. "You hate Dumbedore, I know, but he's a very wise man. He knows about Alexandria and Chalybsis, and he must have immense faith in us if he would entrust us with the responsibility of this assignment. He must have reason to believe we can overcome the enchantment."

"Dumbledore's a batty old fool, Granger-"

"I know you think that! Please, just listen-"

"-so I sort of agree with you. It won't do any good to go to him."

She thought for a moment. "Right."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "So what happens next?"

"We get out on our own, I guess."

"How?"

Granger stood up and retrieved her bag from the bed. "My motto is that, no matter how deep you dig yourself, research is your ladder. Knowledge is power."

"So the library again?"

She half-smiled. "The library again." As she unlocked the hall door, she turned around, flipping brown curls over her shoulder. "Oh, and Malfoy?"

Draco frowned. "What?"

"Thanks."

A/N:

Well, I wanted to make this chapter a little longer, but the ending just happened. It isn't my fault! Now for my thank-yous to everyone, which I haven't done for a while- thanks so much to:

Mirrors Reflection- Don't worry, I will! I like it too!

Eclectia88- Well, thank you! I was worried that I would get stuff wrong, setting it in Ireland, seeing as how I've never been there, but apparently I haven't. Please keep reading, I want to see what you think of the next chapters!

Felicity

Ju

Rachel Hunt- **cowers** I'm so sorry! **cries** The whole Sir Lancelot thing? I had to read The Once and Future King for English, and there's a thing in there where after he betrays Arthur with Guinevere, he goes mad and renames himself the Chevalier de Mal Fet (Knight of Bad Faith). It's like, connection! So I thought that would be cool to stick in there just for fun. Yeah, I think some of his attraction to Hermione is that she stands up to him, insulting him, etc. The alcohol thing just popped out- I mean, he wouldn't exactly have Coke or anything, and wine just seemed like something Draco would think of as normal, and Hermione would see as scandalous. No, no fight, but in the last chapter whoa! I hope you're enjoying, keep reviewing, okay?

Avi- Please do!

Jepa- I thought it was pretty clear obviously if the portrait knew who Hermione was, it'd tell Lucius, and then Draco would be in sooo much trouble thanks, that means a lot! You're welcome, thank you!

2 people who didn't leave their name

Mars- Here it is!

Amber- Wow! Thanks!

Avi- Sure thing, and thanks for the diction comment!

Depth- Thanks, I'll try, and I will!

Song*Breeze- Glued? And I will when I have time, I try to check out those of all the people who are nice enough to review!

Dr. Linkinshlof- is not a guy- Interesting sn Thanks for the help! Some people have said Ginny's really out of character, but JK doesn't develop her much besides her crush on Harry, and I think by the time she's in fourth year she might have matured a little, don't you? Thanks!