Author's Note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They really encourage me
to write faster (Hint hint), and better, as well. I'm really getting
sucked into this story..
Blood Lost
Chapter 3
Hermione pressed her ear against the door to see if she could hear some of the conversation in the common room. Hermione could hear the muted sounds of Lucius' voice, but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying.
'Are you a witch or aren't you?!' Ronald Weasley said in her head. Of course! Hermione dug underneath her bed for the box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes the twins had given everyone at the end of the war, during the celebrations. Hermione was profusely glad she had not thrown the whole lot out, and practically elated to find a pair of Extendable Ears at the bottom of the box.
She tucked her bushy curls behind her ears to insert the small device. Leaning down, she lead the fleshy string under the crack in the door. She only had a moment to think ("Look at yourself, Hermione! You're becoming a nosy sneak!") before she could clearly hear the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"I will see you at Winter Holidays, Draco. Don't disappoint me." And then.nothing. Was he gone? Draco didn't even say goodbye to his father, just 'poof' he was gone.
Hermione leaned back in defeat, that certainly hadn't been very informative. Perhaps if hadn't been so concerned with whether to laugh out loud or not, she could have heard more..
Then her thoughts were interrupted by a brisk knock on her door. Getting up off the floor, Hermione tucked the Extendable Ears in her pocket before opening the door.
It was Malfoy the Younger, of course. Although his hair and clothes were still immaculate, a mask seemed to have slipped from his face.
"Didn't you read the note?" he demanded.
"Not until I got into my room. Perhaps you should have warned me earlier-"
"Like there was time," Malfoy snorted.
"And what exactly is your father doing at school in the middle of September?"
"Listen, I'd rather not involve you in it.."
"Looks like I'm already involved, Malfoy," Hermione countered.
Draco took his time. Hermione could barely hear his concealed sigh as he seated himself on one of the couches that decorated their room. He leaned back and seemed to take over the green couch with his natural lounge; as distracted and distressed as he was, years of practice overtook his body.
The common room was done in greens and golds, the only mixture of house colors that she and Draco could agree on. Hermione remembered the first day she had walked in here, to find the room completely done up in Slytherin colors. Taking out her wand, Hermione had turned most of the green things in the room to red, but that looked horrid with most of the silver. So she had added a little gold here and there, and when Draco walked in, the colors all met in a spectacular clash.
Needless to say, there had been quite a lot of waving of wands and insults exchanged until Hermione had marched out of the room with a loud "humph", leaving Draco to what he willed with the room. Later, after she had calmed down, she found the common room had been tastefully decorated in green and gold, and Hermione couldn't argue if there seemed to be more green than gold.
Snapping out of her reverie, she took a seat on the opposite green chair.
"Well?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Think about it; what's the most important thing to a Malfoy?" Draco said in his usual drawl.
Hermione felt her blood boil, and she so dearly wanted to snap back 'Are we going to play guessing games all day?'. Instead, she calmly replied, "Money, power, and trying to appear to be better than everyone else."
"Right, and how were the Malfoys better than everyone else?"
"You are not-!" began Hermione.
"WERE, Granger. I'm using past tense, I had assumed that you knew what that was.."
"I know what it is, Malfoy," Hermione said. Then, she sighed. "And I've already figured out on my own just why your father was suddenly polite to a muggleborn witch. And I already know about that whole Pure-blood inbreeding thing, and I have to say although that might account for a lot.I'm a little skeptical about it all."
"Skeptical? Well, did you know that I had three siblings?" Draco asked, sitting up fully. "I'm the only one that survived. And take a good look at most of the pure-blooded Slytherins: Crabbe and Goyle can't tell one end of a wand from the other, and the girls are either as ugly as Crabbe or as dull as Goyle."
"There's a difference between them?" Hermione asked, not quite incredulously enough to make her statement sarcastic.
"Well, not really." Hermione could have sworn she saw the edges of a smile on his lips before he frowned again. "This is serious, Hermione. My father is well aware of his mistake in choosing a pureblooded bride, thanks to all that research on it, and will certainly not be making the same mistake with me. Also, as you very well know, my father is trying to keep his high status and appease the post-war views that all wizards and witches ('And creatures' Hermione added silently, but she couldn't afford to begin fighting with Malfoy again so she kept quiet.) are equal. And what better way to show that than to have his very own son matched with a muggleborn witch?"
"Fortunately, that poor muggleborn girl does not have to be me. Why would he be interested in me, of all the muggleborn witches?"
"You can't deny that you are indeed the most powerful witch of our year, and my father knows it. It also adds even more weight to the match that the Malfoys are on the side of good, seeing as how you are such a hero now."
"We'll he'll just have to find someone else, then, won't he?"
"He will! You think I want to ruin your life like that? To drag you into the world I had too grow up in? The world of masks, dangerous games, and that cage of a Malfoy Manor. You wouldn't survive in the snake's den, Hermione," Draco said. He was inches in front of her, his last words so lowly spoken that Hermione leaned in to hear them.
She could almost taste the words. Just like she could feel the blood fire coursing through her veins, rushing to the spot where his breath flowed across her ear. Something was happening to her..what had he been saying?
Hermione stepped back, and saw a similar confused expression on Draco's face, and it was unlike the face she had seen him wear for so many years.
The lunch bell rang, and Malfoy's mask snapped back into place once more; the spell was broken.
"I'll think of something."
"You can't do this alone, Draco." Why do you care if I fall into the pit of snakes that kill with icy stares and frost breath? She asked in her mind, but not out loud.
All Hermione could see were those eyes, like ice, as he swept out of the room.
"I'm always alone." The words stayed behind long after he left the room, and they hung there, like icicles, where once a boy had stood.
Blood Lost
Chapter 3
Hermione pressed her ear against the door to see if she could hear some of the conversation in the common room. Hermione could hear the muted sounds of Lucius' voice, but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying.
'Are you a witch or aren't you?!' Ronald Weasley said in her head. Of course! Hermione dug underneath her bed for the box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes the twins had given everyone at the end of the war, during the celebrations. Hermione was profusely glad she had not thrown the whole lot out, and practically elated to find a pair of Extendable Ears at the bottom of the box.
She tucked her bushy curls behind her ears to insert the small device. Leaning down, she lead the fleshy string under the crack in the door. She only had a moment to think ("Look at yourself, Hermione! You're becoming a nosy sneak!") before she could clearly hear the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"I will see you at Winter Holidays, Draco. Don't disappoint me." And then.nothing. Was he gone? Draco didn't even say goodbye to his father, just 'poof' he was gone.
Hermione leaned back in defeat, that certainly hadn't been very informative. Perhaps if hadn't been so concerned with whether to laugh out loud or not, she could have heard more..
Then her thoughts were interrupted by a brisk knock on her door. Getting up off the floor, Hermione tucked the Extendable Ears in her pocket before opening the door.
It was Malfoy the Younger, of course. Although his hair and clothes were still immaculate, a mask seemed to have slipped from his face.
"Didn't you read the note?" he demanded.
"Not until I got into my room. Perhaps you should have warned me earlier-"
"Like there was time," Malfoy snorted.
"And what exactly is your father doing at school in the middle of September?"
"Listen, I'd rather not involve you in it.."
"Looks like I'm already involved, Malfoy," Hermione countered.
Draco took his time. Hermione could barely hear his concealed sigh as he seated himself on one of the couches that decorated their room. He leaned back and seemed to take over the green couch with his natural lounge; as distracted and distressed as he was, years of practice overtook his body.
The common room was done in greens and golds, the only mixture of house colors that she and Draco could agree on. Hermione remembered the first day she had walked in here, to find the room completely done up in Slytherin colors. Taking out her wand, Hermione had turned most of the green things in the room to red, but that looked horrid with most of the silver. So she had added a little gold here and there, and when Draco walked in, the colors all met in a spectacular clash.
Needless to say, there had been quite a lot of waving of wands and insults exchanged until Hermione had marched out of the room with a loud "humph", leaving Draco to what he willed with the room. Later, after she had calmed down, she found the common room had been tastefully decorated in green and gold, and Hermione couldn't argue if there seemed to be more green than gold.
Snapping out of her reverie, she took a seat on the opposite green chair.
"Well?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Think about it; what's the most important thing to a Malfoy?" Draco said in his usual drawl.
Hermione felt her blood boil, and she so dearly wanted to snap back 'Are we going to play guessing games all day?'. Instead, she calmly replied, "Money, power, and trying to appear to be better than everyone else."
"Right, and how were the Malfoys better than everyone else?"
"You are not-!" began Hermione.
"WERE, Granger. I'm using past tense, I had assumed that you knew what that was.."
"I know what it is, Malfoy," Hermione said. Then, she sighed. "And I've already figured out on my own just why your father was suddenly polite to a muggleborn witch. And I already know about that whole Pure-blood inbreeding thing, and I have to say although that might account for a lot.I'm a little skeptical about it all."
"Skeptical? Well, did you know that I had three siblings?" Draco asked, sitting up fully. "I'm the only one that survived. And take a good look at most of the pure-blooded Slytherins: Crabbe and Goyle can't tell one end of a wand from the other, and the girls are either as ugly as Crabbe or as dull as Goyle."
"There's a difference between them?" Hermione asked, not quite incredulously enough to make her statement sarcastic.
"Well, not really." Hermione could have sworn she saw the edges of a smile on his lips before he frowned again. "This is serious, Hermione. My father is well aware of his mistake in choosing a pureblooded bride, thanks to all that research on it, and will certainly not be making the same mistake with me. Also, as you very well know, my father is trying to keep his high status and appease the post-war views that all wizards and witches ('And creatures' Hermione added silently, but she couldn't afford to begin fighting with Malfoy again so she kept quiet.) are equal. And what better way to show that than to have his very own son matched with a muggleborn witch?"
"Fortunately, that poor muggleborn girl does not have to be me. Why would he be interested in me, of all the muggleborn witches?"
"You can't deny that you are indeed the most powerful witch of our year, and my father knows it. It also adds even more weight to the match that the Malfoys are on the side of good, seeing as how you are such a hero now."
"We'll he'll just have to find someone else, then, won't he?"
"He will! You think I want to ruin your life like that? To drag you into the world I had too grow up in? The world of masks, dangerous games, and that cage of a Malfoy Manor. You wouldn't survive in the snake's den, Hermione," Draco said. He was inches in front of her, his last words so lowly spoken that Hermione leaned in to hear them.
She could almost taste the words. Just like she could feel the blood fire coursing through her veins, rushing to the spot where his breath flowed across her ear. Something was happening to her..what had he been saying?
Hermione stepped back, and saw a similar confused expression on Draco's face, and it was unlike the face she had seen him wear for so many years.
The lunch bell rang, and Malfoy's mask snapped back into place once more; the spell was broken.
"I'll think of something."
"You can't do this alone, Draco." Why do you care if I fall into the pit of snakes that kill with icy stares and frost breath? She asked in her mind, but not out loud.
All Hermione could see were those eyes, like ice, as he swept out of the room.
"I'm always alone." The words stayed behind long after he left the room, and they hung there, like icicles, where once a boy had stood.