Propensity and the Chaotic Pendulum.
Chapter Five.
Fight or Flight.
Disclaimer: HP belongs to JKR et al.
A/N: If you are reading, will you please please please review? I know, I'm groveling, but I need reviews. I'm totally in the dark about what this story is like for the masses. Help me out, people! Thanks to those who have reviewed. I love you all!
----
"We probably ought to talk," Hermione said when they'd gotten safely away from Snape's flat and the stunned Dumbledore.
"I need my wand back," Snape mused.
"You need your wand to talk?" Hermione said bitingly.
"Watch your tone when addressing me, Miss Granger." Snape snapped. He followed that with a murmured, "please," realizing that he was only alive because she had been kind enough not to kill him.
But, was it kindness? Or was it something slightly more sinister. Her eyes were constantly changing, at one second harsh and fiery, at the next warm and needing. He had no way of knowing what was happening inside her head.
"No, I don't need my wand to talk. But it would be entirely easier if I were to create a private place for us to talk."
"Do you suppose they'll be looking for us?"
"Use your head, Miss Granger. We've just attacked one of the most powerful wizards in existence. I fled from a head Death Eater's home, with his son's wife, whom I violated."
"So the deck is pretty stacked against us," she sighed, slumping against a wall.
"Which is precisely why we need to hide, to sort things out amongst ourselves. We'd better come back with a damn good story for everyone."
"Perhaps a few things need to be explained, then," Hermione said, almost timidly. She had seen the wrath of Severus Snape, and although it was alluring, it was also dangerous. Even when he was unarmed.
"Yes," he sighed. "Although I do want a few explanations of my own."
----
Hermione and Snape settled into an ordinary Muggle restaurant, after Hermione had stopped off to purchase clothes other than her mother's dressing gown. Snape had freshened up in a public restroom, rinsing the last traces of Hermione's spell from his face.
"This is a rather nice place," Hermione commented idly, picking at her menu.
"If by nice, you mean cheap and overcrowded, then I quite agree."
"It's perfect for our purposes. I have little Muggle money left, and I doubt you have any." To which Snape responded by pulling a wallet from the folds of his coat, exposing a large amount of cash. Hermione gaped.
"Honestly, girl, aren't you supposed to be the cleverest witch around?" Snape smirked. "Of course the Order is going to have me well-prepared for whatever circumstances may befall me."
"Of course. The Order… always so prepared," she murmured, a bit angrily.
"Do you have a grievance with the order, Miss Granger?"
"I was forced to marry Draco Malfoy. Of course I have a grievance with the order."
Snape's upper lip twitched with the pleasurable knowledge that Hermione had indeed not enjoyed her liaison with the young Mr. Malfoy. "Speaking of that," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"--How exactly did it come to pass that I got involved with Draco?" Hermione finished for him, looking a bit smug and also a bit irritated. "Certainly, let us relive that terrible experience."
"If it's painful for you, of course you needn't--"
"Oh, sod it. Of course I'm going to tell you, painful or not. Why else would we would be here?"
"I assumed you wanted to hear why I--well. You know," he finished, awkwardly.
"Yes. Well, I think understanding everything is important. You know, I am Hermione Granger--the infamous bookworm." They exchanged a slight smile, broken by the approach of a waiter to take orders. Snape coolly ordered for himself and Hermione, eliciting a huff of annoyance from her. "Thank you for ordering for me, father."
Snape raised his eyes to her in surprise as the waiter retreated. "I'm sorry, I merely assumed-"
"That I was incapable of deciding which food I would like to put into my mouth to feed my hunger?"
Snape cast his eyes down again. "I never encountered this problem with any other dates."
Hermione was torn between amusement that Snape had actually gone on dates and anger that he thought of her as his date. She was his attempted murderer, not his friendly companion! She managed to recover enough to smile winningly. "Well, maybe your other dates were just too afraid to speak up. I don't know many women who enjoy having controlling prats as dates!" She said this with all the forced charm she could muster.
Snape was at a loss for words. Certainly not a problem he encountered often, he reflected. Snape was always ready with a biting comment. All at once the whole unlikelihood of his current position hit him, and he began laughing. Hermione looked at him, shocked, her water glass halfway to her mouth. "What precisely is so funny?" she hissed.
"I believe some days there is no sense in the world," he laughed some more. She glared at him.
"Explain what you're laughing about, you foolish man. Everyone is looking at us!"
He tried to contain his laughter, and immediately Hermione wished she had kept her mouth shut. She rather enjoyed the sound of his laughter--she'd never heard it before. After he'd settled down, he took a large gulp of his water and a deep breath. "Where were we?" he asked in a small voice, as if ashamed that he'd knocked them off course.
"I was going to explain about Malfoy," Hermione reminded him begrudgingly. She knew it was important to elucidate everything that had happened; particularly when it was all so jumbled. But she was not at all looking forward to it. She took a deep breath and began her story.
----
It had been the sixth day since Harry's disappearance, and all in the Order were sick with worry. Hermione had been working as a research analyst for a private company, using the vast knowledge she possessed to settle all manner of affairs within the company. It was also a prime position--information was her business, and the Order needed nothing more than information.
Everyone had been shocked when Hermione and Ron turned down jobs as Aurors--but even more shocked when Harry had done the same. Ron wasn't cut out for it, he admitted. He wasn't quite quick-thinking enough. Hermione was deadly smart, but not particularly good on her feet. And Harry--well, he'd seen enough, he explained. They all stayed in contact, but led their own lives, shrouded in secrecy.
When Harry turned up missing, Hermione exhausted herself with the search. She couldn't openly track him, but her many contacts left her with a tome of notes and only one solid clue--Malfoy. Harry had last been seen in the company of Draco, though for what reason, no one knew.
Hermione was reluctant to do it, but she knew her only option was to contact Draco. He'd never become fully entangled in the Death Eater inner circle, a point that he was quite sensitive about. Apparently they believed he was too soft--a laughable thought to Hermione, who had known few wizards who were crueler. She had a slight advantage, though. Draco Malfoy owed her a favor.
She had put a Disillusionment charm on herself and lurked outside the Ministry, where Draco was now working. Yet another mystery Hermione didn't have the patience to solve. He had walked out 10 minutes before everyone else, prompting Hermione to snort a 'figures' before she could stop herself.
"Well, Granger. Fancy, erm--hearing you here," he drawled. She wanted to place her nearly invisible hands around his throat and choke, but refrained. She needed him badly right now, and had to watch her step. Harry was at risk, she reminded herself.
"Pleasant afternoon, isn't it, Draco?"
"Cut the bullshit. What do you want?"
Hermione had to bite her lip to restrain the torrent of insults bursting to get out. "I think it's time I cash in a certain favor that you owe me," she'd said, her tone measured. She was ready with her wand in case he tried to run. Just let that little jerk try to short change me! She thought angrily. Every muscle in her body was itching to attack the little shit.
--
"Well, well," Snape interjected airily. "When did Miss Granger become quite so violent?"
"Shut it, you. I'm talking." she said with a hint of humor. He smirked and made a gesture for her to go on.
---
Draco had ushered the practically unseen Hermione to a secluded corner of a secluded shop in Hogsmeade. "Wouldn't want to be spotted talking to myself, now would I?" he said by way of explanation. Hermione gave a derisive snort but kept her temper in check. "Now, what do you want, Granger?"
"I need a place to stay," she supplied immediately, having given this plenty of thought beforehand. Draco's eyebrows leapt up at the request.
"Surely you don't mean my manor?" he scoffed. Hermione nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see her.
"Yes, actually. I need to be someplace safe, you see? And I'm sure there's not a place more competently guarded than Malfoy Manor," she purred. Draco Malfoy was not above being manipulated with an ego stroke. He positively preened next to her, and she gave silent thanks that he could not see her face at that moment. He would have killed her on the spot.
"Why exactly do you need to be safe?" Draco asked, clearly out of formality and not a genuine desire to know.
"Well, to be honest…"
"Honest. Heh."
"To be HONEST," she forced, "I've fled from--well, the others. Dumbledore," she rushed, kicking herself because she'd almost said "the Order."
"Have you really?" Draco said, a hint of interest creeping into his voice.
"Yes. And I've been… well, considering… my options."
"You mean you wish to join our side?" Fully interested now, Draco rounded on her.
"Well… I'm not entirely sure, but. I get so sick of doing everything good. The only problem, is… well, obviously. I'm a Mudblood." She spat, the word even feeling disgusting in her mouth. She gave a shudder and tried to convince herself she would be forgiven for these horrible lies.
"Well, yes. There's that little matter. But the Dark Lord himself is not pureblood. We can't all be perfect," Draco smarmed. Hermione clenched her fist, biting her fingernails into her palm. This is for the Order, she told herself.
"Yes. And I'd be willing--" here she had to swallow hard, "to do whatever I needed to… to make up for… my heritage, you know."
"I'll have to speak to my father."
"No!" Hermione cried before she could stop herself. "I mean… I just need to be there for a few days. And given what I know of your father, I don't think he'll be overly pleased if you bring home a Mudblood," she shuddered again. Draco appeared to think this over and apparently agreed.
"Secrecy it is."
to be continued.
Chapter Five.
Fight or Flight.
Disclaimer: HP belongs to JKR et al.
A/N: If you are reading, will you please please please review? I know, I'm groveling, but I need reviews. I'm totally in the dark about what this story is like for the masses. Help me out, people! Thanks to those who have reviewed. I love you all!
----
"We probably ought to talk," Hermione said when they'd gotten safely away from Snape's flat and the stunned Dumbledore.
"I need my wand back," Snape mused.
"You need your wand to talk?" Hermione said bitingly.
"Watch your tone when addressing me, Miss Granger." Snape snapped. He followed that with a murmured, "please," realizing that he was only alive because she had been kind enough not to kill him.
But, was it kindness? Or was it something slightly more sinister. Her eyes were constantly changing, at one second harsh and fiery, at the next warm and needing. He had no way of knowing what was happening inside her head.
"No, I don't need my wand to talk. But it would be entirely easier if I were to create a private place for us to talk."
"Do you suppose they'll be looking for us?"
"Use your head, Miss Granger. We've just attacked one of the most powerful wizards in existence. I fled from a head Death Eater's home, with his son's wife, whom I violated."
"So the deck is pretty stacked against us," she sighed, slumping against a wall.
"Which is precisely why we need to hide, to sort things out amongst ourselves. We'd better come back with a damn good story for everyone."
"Perhaps a few things need to be explained, then," Hermione said, almost timidly. She had seen the wrath of Severus Snape, and although it was alluring, it was also dangerous. Even when he was unarmed.
"Yes," he sighed. "Although I do want a few explanations of my own."
----
Hermione and Snape settled into an ordinary Muggle restaurant, after Hermione had stopped off to purchase clothes other than her mother's dressing gown. Snape had freshened up in a public restroom, rinsing the last traces of Hermione's spell from his face.
"This is a rather nice place," Hermione commented idly, picking at her menu.
"If by nice, you mean cheap and overcrowded, then I quite agree."
"It's perfect for our purposes. I have little Muggle money left, and I doubt you have any." To which Snape responded by pulling a wallet from the folds of his coat, exposing a large amount of cash. Hermione gaped.
"Honestly, girl, aren't you supposed to be the cleverest witch around?" Snape smirked. "Of course the Order is going to have me well-prepared for whatever circumstances may befall me."
"Of course. The Order… always so prepared," she murmured, a bit angrily.
"Do you have a grievance with the order, Miss Granger?"
"I was forced to marry Draco Malfoy. Of course I have a grievance with the order."
Snape's upper lip twitched with the pleasurable knowledge that Hermione had indeed not enjoyed her liaison with the young Mr. Malfoy. "Speaking of that," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"--How exactly did it come to pass that I got involved with Draco?" Hermione finished for him, looking a bit smug and also a bit irritated. "Certainly, let us relive that terrible experience."
"If it's painful for you, of course you needn't--"
"Oh, sod it. Of course I'm going to tell you, painful or not. Why else would we would be here?"
"I assumed you wanted to hear why I--well. You know," he finished, awkwardly.
"Yes. Well, I think understanding everything is important. You know, I am Hermione Granger--the infamous bookworm." They exchanged a slight smile, broken by the approach of a waiter to take orders. Snape coolly ordered for himself and Hermione, eliciting a huff of annoyance from her. "Thank you for ordering for me, father."
Snape raised his eyes to her in surprise as the waiter retreated. "I'm sorry, I merely assumed-"
"That I was incapable of deciding which food I would like to put into my mouth to feed my hunger?"
Snape cast his eyes down again. "I never encountered this problem with any other dates."
Hermione was torn between amusement that Snape had actually gone on dates and anger that he thought of her as his date. She was his attempted murderer, not his friendly companion! She managed to recover enough to smile winningly. "Well, maybe your other dates were just too afraid to speak up. I don't know many women who enjoy having controlling prats as dates!" She said this with all the forced charm she could muster.
Snape was at a loss for words. Certainly not a problem he encountered often, he reflected. Snape was always ready with a biting comment. All at once the whole unlikelihood of his current position hit him, and he began laughing. Hermione looked at him, shocked, her water glass halfway to her mouth. "What precisely is so funny?" she hissed.
"I believe some days there is no sense in the world," he laughed some more. She glared at him.
"Explain what you're laughing about, you foolish man. Everyone is looking at us!"
He tried to contain his laughter, and immediately Hermione wished she had kept her mouth shut. She rather enjoyed the sound of his laughter--she'd never heard it before. After he'd settled down, he took a large gulp of his water and a deep breath. "Where were we?" he asked in a small voice, as if ashamed that he'd knocked them off course.
"I was going to explain about Malfoy," Hermione reminded him begrudgingly. She knew it was important to elucidate everything that had happened; particularly when it was all so jumbled. But she was not at all looking forward to it. She took a deep breath and began her story.
----
It had been the sixth day since Harry's disappearance, and all in the Order were sick with worry. Hermione had been working as a research analyst for a private company, using the vast knowledge she possessed to settle all manner of affairs within the company. It was also a prime position--information was her business, and the Order needed nothing more than information.
Everyone had been shocked when Hermione and Ron turned down jobs as Aurors--but even more shocked when Harry had done the same. Ron wasn't cut out for it, he admitted. He wasn't quite quick-thinking enough. Hermione was deadly smart, but not particularly good on her feet. And Harry--well, he'd seen enough, he explained. They all stayed in contact, but led their own lives, shrouded in secrecy.
When Harry turned up missing, Hermione exhausted herself with the search. She couldn't openly track him, but her many contacts left her with a tome of notes and only one solid clue--Malfoy. Harry had last been seen in the company of Draco, though for what reason, no one knew.
Hermione was reluctant to do it, but she knew her only option was to contact Draco. He'd never become fully entangled in the Death Eater inner circle, a point that he was quite sensitive about. Apparently they believed he was too soft--a laughable thought to Hermione, who had known few wizards who were crueler. She had a slight advantage, though. Draco Malfoy owed her a favor.
She had put a Disillusionment charm on herself and lurked outside the Ministry, where Draco was now working. Yet another mystery Hermione didn't have the patience to solve. He had walked out 10 minutes before everyone else, prompting Hermione to snort a 'figures' before she could stop herself.
"Well, Granger. Fancy, erm--hearing you here," he drawled. She wanted to place her nearly invisible hands around his throat and choke, but refrained. She needed him badly right now, and had to watch her step. Harry was at risk, she reminded herself.
"Pleasant afternoon, isn't it, Draco?"
"Cut the bullshit. What do you want?"
Hermione had to bite her lip to restrain the torrent of insults bursting to get out. "I think it's time I cash in a certain favor that you owe me," she'd said, her tone measured. She was ready with her wand in case he tried to run. Just let that little jerk try to short change me! She thought angrily. Every muscle in her body was itching to attack the little shit.
--
"Well, well," Snape interjected airily. "When did Miss Granger become quite so violent?"
"Shut it, you. I'm talking." she said with a hint of humor. He smirked and made a gesture for her to go on.
---
Draco had ushered the practically unseen Hermione to a secluded corner of a secluded shop in Hogsmeade. "Wouldn't want to be spotted talking to myself, now would I?" he said by way of explanation. Hermione gave a derisive snort but kept her temper in check. "Now, what do you want, Granger?"
"I need a place to stay," she supplied immediately, having given this plenty of thought beforehand. Draco's eyebrows leapt up at the request.
"Surely you don't mean my manor?" he scoffed. Hermione nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see her.
"Yes, actually. I need to be someplace safe, you see? And I'm sure there's not a place more competently guarded than Malfoy Manor," she purred. Draco Malfoy was not above being manipulated with an ego stroke. He positively preened next to her, and she gave silent thanks that he could not see her face at that moment. He would have killed her on the spot.
"Why exactly do you need to be safe?" Draco asked, clearly out of formality and not a genuine desire to know.
"Well, to be honest…"
"Honest. Heh."
"To be HONEST," she forced, "I've fled from--well, the others. Dumbledore," she rushed, kicking herself because she'd almost said "the Order."
"Have you really?" Draco said, a hint of interest creeping into his voice.
"Yes. And I've been… well, considering… my options."
"You mean you wish to join our side?" Fully interested now, Draco rounded on her.
"Well… I'm not entirely sure, but. I get so sick of doing everything good. The only problem, is… well, obviously. I'm a Mudblood." She spat, the word even feeling disgusting in her mouth. She gave a shudder and tried to convince herself she would be forgiven for these horrible lies.
"Well, yes. There's that little matter. But the Dark Lord himself is not pureblood. We can't all be perfect," Draco smarmed. Hermione clenched her fist, biting her fingernails into her palm. This is for the Order, she told herself.
"Yes. And I'd be willing--" here she had to swallow hard, "to do whatever I needed to… to make up for… my heritage, you know."
"I'll have to speak to my father."
"No!" Hermione cried before she could stop herself. "I mean… I just need to be there for a few days. And given what I know of your father, I don't think he'll be overly pleased if you bring home a Mudblood," she shuddered again. Draco appeared to think this over and apparently agreed.
"Secrecy it is."
to be continued.