Title: Hate's Sweet Seduction

Chapter 15 – Plots Revealed

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Rating: R

Author's Note: No copyright infringement is intended with this fanfiction. JKR and Warner Bros. hold the rights to the Harry Potter franchise. I am just a lowly fanfic writer.

I know this has been a long time in coming, and I apologize for that. All I can say is that I hope that this chapter and the ones that I'm working on at the moment are worth the wait.

Kiara

A couple of hours later found Hermione standing in front of the large mirror in the room that she shared with Lavender and Parvati. Her hands fluttered nervously from her hair down to her blouse, plucking at a thread before carefully smoothing down the fabric. At last she sighed and let her hands drop to hang limply at her sides. She was as presentable as she was going to get, considering that she had just spent the last twenty minutes going over every inch of her outfit. Not to mention the simple fact that she didn't much care about how she looked - it was the outcome of the meeting that was hovering in the back of her mind.

Abruptly Hermione winced, a sudden tang of copper in her mouth and a sharp stab of pain telling her that she had just bitten through her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of weariness sweeping over her. She just wanted this to be over.... She shook her head slowly as she opened her eyes, and then paused as a sudden glimmer caught her attention. One of the earrings Draco had given to her earlier was catching the light, standing out brightly against her hair. Raising a hand, she touched one of them gently, and then sighed. The earrings and the person who had given them to her were another problem in themselves.

Logically, she could actually work out exactly why Draco - Malfoy - had given the earrings to her. They were perfect. Filch wouldn't give them a second glance, while he might be wary of a notebook, or any other such thing that she could possibly carry with her to keep track of what he would say. They weren't that easily lost, not with the spell that she had used to fix them in place, and since they had been geared to her voice, even if they were lost she was still the only one who could use what information they held.

That still didn't change the fact that something niggled at her every time she looked at them, or turned her head and felt the way they brushed lightly across the sensitive skin of her neck. There was the way they resembled a pair of earrings she already had, for example, and the fact that really, if you paid attention to that sort of thing, they were quite simply gorgeous. Already she had gotten two compliments since putting them on after meeting Malfoy earlier. Those two things were what kept insinuating themselves to the forefront of her mind, and no matter what she did, Hermione just couldn't get them to align with what she already knew and assumed about Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy persona that she had been building in her head since she had first laid eyes on him in first year did not pay attention to such small details... would not pay attention to those details when it came to her, a mudblood.

A sudden vibration at her wrist startled her from her ponderings, and after a brief moment of confusion, she sighed. The alarm on her wizarding watch was going off, to let her know that she had just twenty minutes or so to get to Filch's office to meet both him and Malfoy. A gentle touch to the surface of the watch turned the alarm off, and after one last look in the mirror, Hermione gathered herself together, squared her shoulders and then headed off towards the stairs leading out of the girls' dorm room.

It was very easy to get sick of quiet, darkened corridors, she thought as she made her way towards Filch's office a few minutes later. She felt as though she had spent rather too much time in them lately. It wasn't as if the halls were particularly interesting, either. Oh, the portraits along the wall were somewhat interesting, as she hadn't seen some of them before, but many of the frames were empty, their occupants just out of sight beyond the borders or perhaps off wandering around the castle.

At any rate, the corridors were quiet, dark and damp, and Hermione glanced behind her as she walked. It had taken some doing to get away from Ron and Harry, who she had run into going through the common room. She had told them that she was going to the library, but to her dismay, her two friends had offered to come with her.

"We haven't really talked to you in ages, Hermione", Harry had said to her, as they sat on one of the overstuffed sofas.

"It's our fault as much as yours," Ron had said generously. "But you were acting so oddly – ignoring us, really! Anyway, I need some help with my Potions homework; Snape's being absolutely horrid with this latest assignment. How am I supposed to know what adding a Flobberworm to a Levitation potion does? They don't do anything important when they're alive; I doubt they do anything when they're dead, either."

For a minute Hermione had been tempted to do it – to stay and enjoy the night with Harry and Ron, like she had all the other years at Hogwarts. She didn't want to go off and meet Filch and Malfoy in some dingy office; she wanted to spend her time with her friends. Most of the Gryffindor students had still been awake and in the Common Room, clustered together here and there in laughing, chattering groups. A small fire had been burning in the hearth; the scent of whatever it was the house elves used when they were cleaning filled the air, and everything seemed bright and cheerful, very different from what she was preparing to go off to.

Nevertheless, deep down inside she knew she had to go. Despite her fears and hesitation, everything she always looked to inside herself told her she had to – and so when Colin Creevey and Neville Longbottom had distracted Ron and Harry by coming over to ask a question about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione had slipped away.

At last she came to the door to Filch's office. It was standing ajar, and after knocking hesitantly but receiving no reply, Hermione stepped just inside the door. If Harry had been with her, he would have been able to tell her that the place hadn't changed much since he had been in there in second year. The office was still dark and dreary, Filch's prized collection of manacles and chains hanging against the wall above his desk.

The row of filing cabinets against the wall drew her attention, and Hermione stepped towards them, curious. Each drawer in them was meticulously labeled in alphabetical order, with here and there one drawer being devoted to a single student name. She grinned when she spotted a drawer just for Fred and George. The two had finished at Hogwarts the year before, but it was nice to see a reminder of their antics.

"Don't worry," a drawling voice said from behind her. "I doubt there's a single scrap of parchment with your name on it, Granger."

Hermione gasped and spun around. Draco was leaning up against the doorframe, looking at her sardonically.

"I doubt you've ever even been down here before," he continued. "Am I right?"

"No, I haven't been in here," Hermione answered stiffly. "I don't know why anyone would ever want to come here, either. It's absolutely horrid! No windows or anything!"

Draco straightened and stepped forward into the room. Grit crunched beneath his feet as he moved, and his face took on an expression of disgust.

"For one thing, we're down in the dungeons, you know," he pointed out, his voice silky smooth but rubbing a raw spot on Hermione's nerves. "It's rather difficult to build windows when you're underground."

Her back stiffened, but Hermione still managed a retort. "Oh, stop being such a prat," she said, giving him an icy glare. "It's common knowledge that in the Ministry there aren't any real windows, but there are still spells to make it look like there are. There's no reason Filch couldn't have had that done in here, except he's probably too proud to have anyone know that he's not really a wizard at all."

For a moment they just regarded each other, Hermione tense and quivering, Draco standing comfortably just inside the door.

"Very good, Granger," he allowed at last, breaking the silence. "I should have expected that you would know that."

Hermione blinked at the reply, taken off guard by how different it was from the usual snark she had been expecting. For a moment the words that Draco had spoken to her earlier rang in her ears, and she was about to open her mouth to ask him about them when from outside the door came the sound of approaching footsteps. The reason why they were there suddenly struck home again, and she swallowed, her mouth gone dry and her pulse pounding headily in her ears.

Draco strode towards her quickly and she took an automatic step backward, but he didn't touch her, merely murmured, "Just remember our plan, Hermione," as he brushed by her. Then he was behind Filch's desk, pulling out the chair and seating himself in it before he kicked his feet up, placing them on the desk with a satisfied smirk. Hermione's eyes widened and she gestured frantically at him, but suddenly it was too late, the door was swinging inwards and Filch was there, glowering at them both from beneath his mane of shaggy, greasy hair.

Hermione lifted a hand nervously to touch one of the earrings but quickly turned the motion into a brush at her hair, sweeping a strand out of her face as she gazed warily at the bitter old man. Her thoughts were racing, wondering why Draco was goading the man so, wondering if the earrings were working properly even though Draco had i told /i her that they would begin to work as soon as she put them on.

"I don't think Lucius Malfoy is much of a one for hearing that his son has been treating other people's belongings in such a fashion," Filch said at last, his raspy voice holding an undeniable note of condescension as he stared at Draco. "What do you think, Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione could see the muscles in Draco's arms tensing with his anger, and she bit her lip as she waited to see if he would lose his temper, wincing as she hit the tender spot where she had bitten it earlier. He somehow managed to control himself, though, instead just raising one mocking eyebrow before he swung his feet off the desk - but still making no move to give up the actual seat itself. Hermione winced again inwardly as she waited for Filch's reaction, but in some way, she had to admire Draco's nerve.

"Fine, have it your way, Mr. Malfoy," Filch finally drawled. "If sitting behind that desk makes you feel like you have some vestige of power in this situation, by all means, be my guest." He paused for a moment, and then his lips curved up in a horrid caricature of a grin. "It still won't change the fact - you don't have any power in this situation."

"Can you spare us the ego strutting?" Draco interrupted him, unshaken by Filch's remarks, or at least seeming so. "It's taken you long enough to come up with something, so now that you've finally called us here, go ahead and tell us."

"Patience is a virtue," Filch said calmly. Hermione just barely refrained from rolling her eyes, unable to believe the garbage that was spouting from the man's mouth. Platitudes weren't her favourite things at the best of times, let alone now, coming from a more than slightly mad old caretaker.

"As I have most richly discovered," the man continued, his grin growing wider. "I've managed to get into touch with an old friend of mine, you see. Someone else I went to school with, who seemed to be quite delighted when I told him that I had in my hands a way to give him and his master just what they've always wanted - Harry Potter."

Hermione's breath caught in the back of her throat and her back stiffened slightly as she gazed at Filch. All thoughts of Draco, the plan and what they were going to do after this meeting fled from her mind while she struggled to grapple with what Filch was telling them. She had expected many things out of this - some foolhardy plan to humiliate Harry, perhaps, or some attempt to get him expelled from Hogwarts. This, however, was sounding like it was much more than that – like it was something that would put Harry in very real danger. This was exactly the opposite of what Draco had said they could expect.

Perhaps she made a noise of some sort, or maybe Draco could tell by her expression how she was reacting to Filch's announcement, because she was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of him snorting indelicately. She glanced at him and saw him giving her a glare out of the corner of his eye before he turned his attention back to Filch.

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" he drawled slowly, condescension dripping from every word. "When you consider all the people that have tried to bring Potter down, and deliver him to Voldemort" - Hermione was pleased to see that Filch flinched slightly at the sound of the name -" You expect us to even contemplate for a moment the thought that you might accomplish it?"

Her logic firmly back in place, and spurred on by the truth in Draco's words, Hermione spoke up as well. "He's right, Filch," she said, her voice icy despite the tremble she fought to keep from it. "Harry's faced down bigger and smarter opponents than you, and none of them have been able to touch him. There's no way this will work."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Filch replied, his voice silky smooth. He didn't look even the slightest bit shaken by what they had said, and Hermione had to stop herself from taking a step backwards when he moved toward her.

"Other people have failed, yes," Filch continued, as he reached her side. He stared at her for a moment, and this time Hermione did take a small step backwards, repelled by the look in his murky eyes. Filch chuckled and reached out to stroke one dirty finger down the side of her cheek, laughing aloud when she shuddered in distaste. "Other people have failed, but other people haven't had you, have they, Miss Granger? You're Potter's best friend - the smart one, the one he always trusts. You're going to be the reason why I succeed."

Filch laughed again and then moved away. Hermione closed her eyes, disgust still running through her from where he had touched her.

"Poor Peter Pettigrew, they used to say," Filch said musingly, and Hermione opened her eyes to see him standing in the centre of the room, stroking his chin in what seemed to be a thoughtful pose. "Poor, poor Peter Pettigrew, betrayed by one of his closest friends. But Peter was just like me - betrayed by the ones he thought cared for him the most. He was quite pleased to hear from me, you know. And now both of us will win - he'll have pleased his master and get the respect that he's always wanted, and I'll finally get my revenge."

Hermione shook her head slowly, caught between disgust, fear and scorn. She had no idea quite how Wormtail had convinced himself that he had been betrayed by his friends - perhaps that was something that Filch was just telling himself. When she really thought about it, she wasn't surprised that the two of them had come to some sort of an agreement - despite all that he had done to ensure Voldemort's survival, Hermione knew from what she had heard from Harry that Pettigrew was still regarded as almost the lowest of the low among Voldemort's lackeys. Yet somehow, he usually managed to find allies...

Again, an overwhelming wave of weariness washed over Hermione. When would Harry be free from this, she thought to herself. A stroke of luck, a whim of fate, and he had been destined to spend a life being hunted and hated by people he didn't even know. Repeatedly they had stood against that onslaught, but it always continued.

Yet with the weariness came a certain bitterness, born of five previous years of standing at Harry's side, watching him fight against everything that was arrayed against him, watching him somehow accept the role he had been placed into. She had seen his own anger and confusion about the lot he had been handed, and yet he somehow shouldered that lot despite it all. If he could face down all of that, was she really going to let yet another bitter enemy from a past that wasn't even Harry's try to hurt him?

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Across the room, still seated behind the desk, Draco glanced over and caught the look on Granger's face as she lifted her chin stubbornly, a sudden flash of determination plainly visible on her face. A sudden tension that he hadn't even been aware of up until that point suddenly relaxed, and he sighed inwardly. Despite everything he had heard about her – the bitter tirades his father would launch into about Potter almost always included her as well – he had been afraid, somehow, that she would lose her nerve. Her expression now seemed to counter that, and when she glanced over at him and their eyes met for a brief moment, he had no doubt left at all. Images from encounters over the last five years suddenly flashed before his eyes, and the corner of Draco's mouth quirked up in a small smirk. Filch really had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Alright, Filch," he drawled, taking pleasure in propping one of his feet up against the desk again, ignoring the anger that was evident in the older man's eyes. "So you've talked to Voldemort's favourite little pet rat. What does that have to do with us, other than the fact that you two are both obviously pathetically incapable of escaping the past?"

Filch's lip curled up in a silent snarl, but he didn't rise to Draco's bait. "Things will be easy enough to accomplish from this point on," he said, leaning back against the wall behind him as Mrs. Norris wound silently around his ankles. "Now that I've got in touch with Peter again, all that remains to be done is getting Potter somewhere he can be caught from. That is where you two come in."

There was another longer pause, and this time the room was entirely silent. Draco remained silent, just wanting to hear what it was that Filch had planned. Across the room from him, Hermione stood still and quiet, her gaze fixed on the old caretaker.

"You, Miss Granger," Filch said at last, spinning around and pointing a long finger at her. "You are the first part of the plan. Three days from now, on Sunday, there is a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Both Potter and Mr. Malfoy, here, will be playing. It will be your job to distract Potter somehow, after the game. Get him to go with you toward the forest. There will be a barrier erected just at the edge, where the grounds and the forest meet. Dumbledore has spells and spies all over the rest of the place, but the Forest is still out of his reach, thanks to the centaurs and the Forest itself. Once you pass that barrier, nobody back at the school will be able to see you."

Turning, Filch fixed his gaze on Draco. "Now you, Mr. Malfoy, will have the task of escaping from your team-mates. You will make your way to the edge of the forest, following behind Granger and Potter. Once you are right at the edge, you will make yourselves known to them. It shouldn't be too hard to proceed from there – a word or two and you should find yourselves in the middle of an argument. At that time, I will appear, and while Potter is distracted between myself, you and Granger, Peter and whoever he brings with him will come out from the forest and seize him."

"How do we know you'll leave us alone after this," Draco interrupted, staring coldly at Filch. "What is there to stop Pettigrew or one of his cronies from blackmailing Granger or I into doing this sort of thing again?"

"Peter doesn't know that anyone else is working with me," Filch said with a shrug. "I told him that I would get Potter near the forest after the Quidditch game – he doesn't know how I was planning on doing it. As far as he is concerned, your presence will just be a coincidence, and I instructed him to leave any of the other students alone. In all likelihood this will actually work in your favour – a quick Obliviate, and neither of you will even remember what it is that you've done."

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Hermione shuddered inwardly as she considered that situation for a moment – betraying Harry, and then not even knowing what she had done. She'd go through the same grief and worry as everyone else, and not even know that she had caused it... She couldn't decide which would be worse, living out a lie while Harry suffered for it, or knowing exactly what it was she had done. That could have been her future... Now, because of Draco's plan, there was some hope again.

"So that's it, then." Draco's voice brought Hermione out of her thoughts, and she focused her attention. "Granger gets Potter there, I follow and argue with him a bit, and then after you show up Pettigrew and the others sweep out of the forest and carry him off to the big bad Dark Lord?"

"Mock it if you will," Filch said coolly. "In reality, the very simplicity of the plan is what will make it work. Being with Granger will lull Potter, you being there will distract him, and when I show up, the combination of the three will make him unaware that anything is amiss until it is too late."

He had a point, Hermione thought bleakly to herself. Without the tools that Draco had access to through his father, they wouldn't have had a way to prove what Filch was doing, and that would have meant that she would have gone along with it, worried about her parents. She supposed that somehow, she could have found a way around it, to ensure Harry's safety... but right now, it didn't bear much thinking about.

"I presume that I still have cooperation from the both of you," Filch spoke again. "If not, let me assure you that there are two owls waiting to be sent. One will go to a Death Eater, who will be wary, but not too wary to look in to a letter that tells him the whereabouts of the Muggle parents of Harry Potter's best friends. The other will go to Lucius Malfoy, telling him just what his son has been doing, and not only that, just what his mother has been up to in her spare time."

At that, Hermione blinked, and sent a curious glance in Draco's direction. She wasn't sure, but she thought he looked a bit paler than normal, as though what Filch had said had struck particularly close to home.

"We hardly have much choice in the matter," she said icily, breaking the silence and tearing Filch's gaze away from Draco. "Is it a trait of the unintelligent, I wonder, to go over and over points that are already conspicuously obvious?"

Filch scowled at her, but Hermione just lifted her chin slightly, not about to back down at this stage. "See to it that you both do your parts," he said at last. "And keep in mind that I'll be watching you both particularly closely from now until Sunday. Nothing is to go wrong; I hope you understand me quite clearly on that point. Now, get out of my office."

In a sort of daze, Hermione made her way to the door, and when she came back to her senses she realized that she was standing outside of Filch's office, with Draco standing beside her.

"He's going to have us watched," Draco mused, and Hermione stared at him blankly for a moment before she realized what he was referring to. "Come on," he added, and grabbed her arm, tugging her down the hall. After a few turns they reached a darkened corridor, and then ducked into a small alcove just off of it. "How will he manage that, I wonder?" Draco continued, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. "He's just a Squib."

"He must have something that helps him do his job, though," Hermione said, her logic quickly taking over. "How else does he get around so fast, or know where Mrs. Norris is? I bet Dumbledore's given him certain powers, so that he can keep up."

"It will make things more difficult, that's for sure," Draco replied grimly. "If he's watching us, he's bound to notice any move either of us makes to go and approach Dumbledore. We'll have to figure out another way to get our information to him – and quickly, too."

Hermione frowned for a moment, leaning against the wall and tapping her fingernails nervously against it. "Harry," she said suddenly.

"What?" Draco scowled at her. "Have you gone daft? Filch'll know for sure if you say anything to Potter. Not only that, he'd probably waste his time getting into a strop with you, or worse, try to save the whole situation himself and end up being killed in the bargain. There's no way we're telling Potter."

"I didn't mean that we should tell him, you prat," Hermione told him impatiently. "I was thinking of something else – something that Harry has."

She paused nervously for a moment, debating on whether or not she should actually tell Malfoy what she was thinking. Draco, however, did not have the patience to just stand there while she thought.

"Well?" he prompted, staring at her. "Are you going to tell me, or am I just to assume that you've gone into a swoon, thinking about the wonders of the Boy Who Lived?"

"I will tell you, but only if you're done belittling him as per usual," Hermione said, giving him a withering stare. "Merlin knows you seem to prefer doing that than actually listening to me."

She waited for a moment to see what Draco had to say to that, but he didn't speak, actually seeming a bit amused as he raised one eyebrow at her and made a gesture to indicate that she should continue.

"Harry has an Invisibility Cloak," she explained quietly, after glancing out of the alcove nervously. "And a magical map, as well, that will show us if we are in danger of running in to Filch. All I need to do is get a hold of them, and we can use them tomorrow or Saturday to make sure that we can get to Dumbledore's office."

Draco frowned for a moment, chewing his lip consideringly while Hermione gazed at him impatiently. "That would work," he said at last. "Filch won't be expecting an Invisibility Cloak – they're hard to get a hold of, and students never have them. It figures that Potter would."

"I don't see why it wouldn't work," Hermione said, tired of what she saw as Draco trying to avoid admitting that anything Harry had might possibly work to their advantage. "We've used it before. If you weren't so critical of Harry all the time, you'd at least see that he hasn't gotten this far by being stupid or not knowing what he was doing."

Draco shrugged his shoulders sardonically, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I have to go," she said, glancing down at her watch. "I told Ron and Harry that I would be at the library, and as it is they actually wanted to come with me – if I'm not careful they'll go looking for me. Listen; meet me after classes tomorrow inside the library, all right? Filch won't think anything of it, if anything he'll just think we're going to shag again, and we can get back in there easily enough, later, since we'll have the cloak."

Then she was moving away down the hall, turning the tables for once and leaving Draco without a chance to reply, staring at her retreating back.

Hermione struggled to hold back her glee as she rounded the corner, the image of having left Draco standing behind her without even a chance to reply stuck firmly in her mind. There was a certain amount of pleasure to be had from besting him without even using any snark, she thought to herself, a small smile curving her lips. It was almost interesting, working with him on this sort of thing, seeing if she could surprise him as much as he surprised her on occasion.

She turned another corner, and then stopped dead in her tracks as a sudden noise came to her ears. She waited for a moment, and chills went down her spine when she heard it again – a soft scrape coming from behind her, around the corner she had just turned. Carefully drawing her wand out of her pocket, she warily turned around, moving toward the corner as the soft sound came again.

"Who's there?" she called out softly. There was no reply but the sound came again, this time closer, and Hermione tightened her grip on her wand instinctively. She didn't see why Filch would have followed her and Draco so soon after meeting with them, but if he had, if he had heard their conversation... The sound came again, and then someone rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of Hermione, who had her wand up and pointing directly at them before she realized who it was.

"Ginny?" she said, in a slightly incredulous tone. "Ginny, what are you doing here?"

"I was meeting someone," the other girl replied quietly, moving forward. Her red hair glimmered as Hermione waved her wand, effortlessly casting the Lumos spell. "Seems to be the night for that sort of thing, don't you think?"

Hermione stared at Ginny blankly for a moment, and then slowly became distinctly aware of her heart thudding in her chest as the meaning behind the other girl's words became clear. "What do you mean, Ginny?" she said at last, her tone fixed and very careful.

"I mean that I came out to meet someone tonight," Ginny said simply, moving to lean up against the wall across from Hermione. "I was a bit worried about it, actually. Nobody knows that I'm meeting this person, and I don't want anyone to know until I'm ready for them to. I was thinking about that as I was coming back, but then I happened to glance down one of the halls as I went past it, and it seems I'm not the only one who's meeting someone without anyone else knowing."

Ginny stared at Hermione levelly, and the older girl sighed and closed her eyes as she realized that it was not going to be easy to talk her way out of this one.

"The other thing is," she heard Ginny say, her voice still quiet. "I've been worried about telling people about whom I've been meeting, but it really is nothing in comparison to what you'll have to worry about, Hermione. Tell me, does anyone know that you've been meeting Draco Malfoy on the sly?"

The breath Hermione had been holding escaped on another long sigh, and she opened her eyes to gaze at Ginny wearily. "No," she said simply. "Nobody knows, Ginny. And there's more to it than you think, I promise you."

"More to it than what I think?" Ginny's eyebrows went up, and Hermione bit down on her lip again, ignoring the pain as she realized that she had probably just aroused the other girl's curiousity more with that comment than she could have by saying almost anything else. "I'd been putting it down to the rumours that I've heard that he's absolutely fabulous in bed – but there's more to it than that? Do tell."

Caught completely off guard, Hermione gaped at Ginny for a moment, a blush rising slowly in her cheeks.

"I'll take that to mean that the rumours are true," Ginny said, amusement clear in her voice. "You might blush easily, but not that easily - not to mention you haven't even gotten angry yet, which I'm sure you would have if you weren't sleeping with him. But you still haven't answered me – what more is there to it, Hermione? I'm very curious, seeing as how shagging the person who lives to be the enemy of your best friend would be enough for most people."

Regaining her composure, Hermione shook her head irritably at Ginny. "I have my reasons," she said at last, thinking fast on how she could answer the other girl without arousing her suspicions further. "Best way to know the enemy is to get close to them, don't you think?"

A silence descended for a brief moment, and then Ginny laughed. Hermione gazed at her warily, still a bit uncertain, but the amusement she could see sparkling in the other girl's eyes seemed to be genuine enough. "That works for me," Ginny said, still giggling. "I always did wish I had your talent for finding out information, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help laughing a bit as well, although she could feel another blush heating her cheeks. She fiercely willed it to go away, and then promptly decided that she had best resign herself to it when Ginny seized her by the arm, saying "Now, you have to tell me all about this – everyone in my year has been dying to shag him, you know," as she pulled Hermione down the corridor in the general direction of Gryffindor.

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Meanwhile, behind them, there was a slight movement around the corner, and then Draco stepped out into the open, a contemplative expression on his face as he watched their figures recede down the corridor.