~*~ Hunting Truth ~*~

Morning found me trapped in my bed, the victim of damp silk sheets twisted around my body like Devil's Snare. I pushed myself up into a seated position and brushed back my hair, then set about the patient work of untangling myself from the sheets. The dream was still vivid in my mind as I stepped into the shower, and I closed my eyes as the water sluiced away the external sweat and disorder.

I did want him, that went without saying. But was I seeing what I wanted and hoped to see, fooling myself by the current behavior of my former rival, or was there some spark of truth beckoning me along a path I wanted to take anyway? Perhaps I should, though the very thought made me feel strange to the extreme, arrange to meet with Hermione. After all, she was one of the gateways to Grey's being. Maybe she could give me some small clue that would help me navigate this tangle that had become my life.

So fine, I would owl Hermione and see if she'll come and talk to me. The worst that can happen is that she won't tell me anything, right? And then I put my thought into action, dashing off a short note and sending it on, kicking around the garden for a good part of the day as my thoughts ran in circles on whether or not Grey was simply being friendly or if there really was something behind the casual, good-natured behavior.

As I stared at the pool, thinking yet again that I simply wasn't interested in getting in, my owl returned with a note from her. She was pleased enough to visit and would come later this afternoon if that would be convenient. Back went the note with an acceptance and I let my feet carry me inside to make sure I had something suitable to serve. After asking, pleasantly I might add, my house elf to have a little something ready, I continued on to my bedroom to change into something more appropriate than ragged cut-offs I was currently wearing.

I paced around for what seemed like ages until I heard a knock at the front door, and hastened to open it. She was all smiles, saying she was happy to see me again and that my home looked quite lovely indeed. Her eyes danced in much the same way Dumbledore's had, which unnerved me a little, I must admit. That kind of twinkle usually meant something was being hidden, or several somethings. Very unnerving indeed.

I escorted her out to the garden for refreshments and to talk. The urge to fidget was getting very hard to ignore, so I sipped more tea and crumbled a biscuit on my plate before getting around to the actual point.

"I, err, trust the children are well?" I asked politely, figuring that was a safe place to begin, and endured a long ten minutes all about them, and how much they loved it when Uncle Grey came to visit. Which, in fact, made for a good opening.

"About Grey," I asked, "is he always like that?"

"Like what?" she countered maddeningly, then reached for a bakewell tart.

"He's not the same person. This is...him...now?"

"Mmm," she agreed. "No, he's not the same person, and frankly I'm glad he isn't. Once everything was said and done, it all just got so much worse! You can't bear a burden for that long and stay sane. You either crack up, or you change."

"Yes, I guess I can see that. But is he all right."

Hermione shrugged. "He's happy most of the time. No one bothers him, after all, he isn't anyone special, right? Just a man. He gets lonely sometimes, but we do what we can."

"So tell me, if you will. Why did you mention the club?"

"It's a place Ron and I like to go to just be people. We have fun there. I thought you might like it. I think he named it aptly." Her eyes were twinkling again, so I was immediately suspicious. I just don't trust that twinkling stuff.

"And it never once crossed your mind I might possibly recognize him?" I arched a brow at her and lifted my chin slightly.

"Why would anyone? He's Grey," she said to me, her brown eyes wide. Then she reached for a lemon tart and made a happy fuss over how flaky the crust was. She wasn't fooling me for a second.

"I see," I drawled. "Well then, how do you feel about the fact that I did?" I could feel my eyes do that thing they do when I want to stare compellingly at someone. I know, I've practiced. The mirror tells me I'm a right terror.

"Me? It's not like you hexed him into oblivion, Draco. He seems to be friendly toward you, you seem to be behaving yourself, so what's to get upset over?" Still those innocent eyes.

Hmm. "Why does he dance like that?"

She shook her head. "I think that's a question better asked of him."

Damned loyal Gryffindors! "So noted." So I skillfully steered the conversation away into lazy social talk until an hour had passed, the tea was quite cold and all the biscuits had run out. She gave me a quick hug before she left, and a breezy wave. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all, but she was still hiding things.

I called for a house elf and asked it to tidy up, then stripped down and slid into the pool to brood.