Authors Note: Thanks for the encouragement I received from many of you after the difficulties I had with the last chapter. As you all know I welcome constructive criticism as it enables me to improve my writing, what however I will not stand for is being told of spelling errors I have made by people whose own spelling leaves a lot to be desired – I cannot stand hypocrites of any kind. If you do want to point out mistakes to me in your reviews, please do so, but at least have the decency to ensure that your own spelling is accurate while pointing out my mistakes. Those people, to whom I refer, know who they are and if not, please visit the reviews for this story – it is all there!
As ever thanks to my beta for making this readable and please let me know what you think of this chapter. There are only a few more chapters of this story to go, but I can promise that there will be a sequel, once this is finished.
Chapter twelve
Sighing with relief, Hermione descended from the stage and made her way back to her seat amidst a thunderous applause. Sitting down, she smiled as she caught Ron's eye and he winked at her.
She looked down at the awards she had placed on her lap and had to blink rapidly to clear her vision. There, vying for space before her was a burnished gold shield which she had been given for making an excellent job of being Head Girl, another shield for her Services Rendered to the School, a silver cup peeked out from the pile for being the first student in twenty-five years to get eight NEWTs at Outstanding level, and finally, the gilt-edged leather folder which contained the certificates for which she had strived since her first day at Hogwarts. Placing the heavy shields on the floor beneath her chair, she looked up in time to see Amy Hilton, a tall, thin, Hufflepuff girl make her hesitant way onto the stage.
Glancing round the packed marquee, Hermione wondered where her parents were. She had briefly caught her mother's eye while shaking Professor Dumbledore's hand, but had not managed to see exactly where she was seated. Hermione sat back, clapping enthusiastically as Amy scurried back to her seat, clutching her folder of certificates to her and resolutely not meeting anyone's eyes.
Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed into her chair – her part in the graduation ceremony was over and she was thankful for it. She supposed that her speech had been good enough and hoped fervently no one had noticed the slight tremor in her voice as she had wished this year's Hogwarts graduates the best of luck in their chosen careers, or when she had thanked both the staff and parents of the graduating students for their unfailing support throughout the students' time at Hogwarts. She remembered at this point how many of the guests and pupils had looked down and surreptitiously wiped their eyes – she herself had not been far from tears. She remembered clearly that Lucius Malfoy had caught her eye at this point and smiled, his eyes gleaming – was that pride that she had seen there?
She applauded and cheered as Harry's name was called and he mounted the stage to be presented with his own batch of certificates. He shuffled nervously from foot to foot as his hand was shaken by all the school governors and Professor Dumbledore. As soon as this was over, he swiftly left the stage amidst the flashing of cameras. Catching Hermione's eye he grimaced and she grinned, knowing how he hated big events such as this one. She once again settled back as other students made their way up to the stage and were presented with their NEWT certificates, and in some cases, various awards. She cheered loudly as Ron was awarded best Quidditch Goal Keeper of the year, and the loud applause did not quite drown out the shouts of "Weasley is our King" coming from the Gryffindor students.
Finally, after what felt like ages, it was all over. The governors were getting to their feet and all around Hermione everyone was getting up and looking round for their parents. She too, jumped up and started making her way to the edge of the crowd, peering through it for a sight of her parents. After being unceremoniously jostled by students and parents alike, she spotted the Weasleys standing together in a corner, recognisable due to their red hair. Making her slow way over to where they stood, she was relieved to see that her mother and father were conversing with Mr and Mrs Weasley, while looking round them with undisguised curiosity. On seeing Hermione, they broke off their conversation and as one, both parents moved to embrace their daughter.
"Oh Hermione," Lyn Granger said, smiling at her daughter, while tears glistened in her eyes, "you don't know how proud we are of you. All those awards – and we never knew!" She broke off, emotion choking her voice.
Stepping forward, Peter Granger hugged his daughter tightly and said, "Well done Hermione, you have done us proud!" Hermione smiled at the compliment and then gently disentangled herself from her father's embrace.
"It's so nice to see you at Hogwarts," she said, not knowing what else to say, "Did you manage to get here ok?"
"Oh yes," beamed her father, "your Headmaster sent us a… what was it? Ah yes, a portkey which transported us here. It was a fascinating journey!"
Behind him, Lyn grimaced. Like Hermione, she preferred to keep both feet on the ground at all times, and Hermione could see that the portkey had not agreed with her.
At this point, Mrs Weasley turned and hugged Hermione, "Oh I am so proud of you," she beamed, "congratulations Hermione on your success! All those awards were truly well deserved!"
"Thanks," Hermione blushed happily, "we had better head off to the tent where the buffet is laid out."
There were general nods of assent and the group moved out of the marquee and across the lawn, where a similarly sized tent had been set up. Entering it, they saw that there were three huge tables in the centre, groaning beneath the weight of more food than Hermione had ever seen before. Pies of all descriptions were arranged on one table, surrounded by quiches, sandwiches, salads, platters of smoked salmon and haddock, vegetable spring rolls, various dips, many different kinds of cheeses, spicy samosas, a huge basket of bread of all kinds and much, much more. On another table sat trifles, jellies, blocks of ice-cream, apple pies, treacle tarts, donuts, buns, iced cakes and a number of desserts Hermione didn't recognise. On the third table, wines of every description sat alongside fizzy drinks, mineral water, butter beer, and every variety of fruit juice Hermione could imagine.
Beside Hermione, her mother gasped, staring at the food laid out before them, "My god, all this food – I have never ever seen so much of it!"
"Yeah, good isn't it?" Ron said, overhearing Lyn Granger's exclamation, "Fred and George said the best bit about Graduation was the buffet, and I totally agree! This lot'll keep us going all night." So saying, he shouldered his way to the front of the crowd, followed by everyone else.
Soon the party had all filled their plates and retreated to a corner to chat while eating. Standing between Ron and Harry, Hermione surveyed the crowd of people before saying, "You know, I still can't believe we've graduated – where has all the time gone?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed, "it's gone rather quickly, hasn't it?"
"Yeah," nodded a subdued Harry, "I can clearly remember when we were worrying about our NEWTs and now look at us, about to leave Hogwarts forever!"
"Oh, I'm not sorry the NEWTs are over," Ron grinned as he bit into a slice of chicken pie, "They were positively nasty!" He shuddered at the chuckles of his friends, and then carried on, "Do you remember in the Charms NEWT when I accidentally enlarged the wart on the nose of my examiner?"
"How could we ever forget?" Harry sniggered, "the poor man's head was practically drooping! The wart was so big, it obliterated the rest of his face!"
"What I'd like to know," Hermione said, trying to keep a straight face, "is how you managed to get an E in Charms after that."
"I've absolutely no idea" Ron grinned, "Who cares though!"
"You know," Hermione mused, "in some ways I'm sorry the NEWTs passed so quickly." Ignoring Ron and Harry's horrified expressions, she went on, "I mean, it was so rewarding being finally able to prove that bloodlines make no difference to a person's magical ability, as some people would have us believe."
"That's true," Ron agreed sobering, "but I still say you were unbearable to live with during the exams, Hermione!"
"I was not," she exclaimed indignantly, "it isn't a crime to be focussed on my exams you know!" she hid her grin at the looks on the two boy's faces – both had stopped chewing and were staring at her as though they had never seen her before.
"There's being focussed about your exams, and there's being obsessed about your exams!" Ron said darkly, and resumed eating.
Glancing round, Hermione saw that the tent was crowded. Although everyone seemed to be eating; the amount of food on the tables did not seem to have diminished. Hermione's parents were in an animated conversation with the Weasleys and Professor McGonagall, and she turned her attention back to Ron and Harry.
"So what now?" she asked quietly, the laughter dying out of her eyes, "I mean we're all entering the real world and well…"
"Don't worry," Harry said giving her a reassuring smile, "we'll meet up frequently now I've got my own flat and don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore. Things will be brilliant!" he enthused, "We can have slumber parties and get completely rat-arsed!"
"You bet," Ron grinned back, "Cor, can you imagine it? We'll have no one to answer to and can do what we like, when we like and however we like!"
Hermione could not help smiling at their exuberance, "I feel sorry for your neighbours," she grinned at Harry, "they'll rue the day you move in."
"Now Hermione," he exclaimed in mock outrage, "how could you blacken my character like this? I am a decent, self-respecting, upright, law-abiding citizen..."
Ron and Hermione's laughter drowned out the rest of his words and he too, burst out laughing.
"Seriously though," Ron said, lowering his voice, glancing furtively around to check for eavesdroppers, "I mean, now we're old enough to join the Order. I don't know about you two, but I'm really looking forward to helping get rid of You Know Who and all the scum he calls Followers!" There was a note of something akin to hate in his voice, and in spite of herself, Hermione shivered.
"Calm down," she murmured, laying a hand on his arm in an effort to placate him.
He turned and surveyed her through narrowed eyes and then said in a voice so quiet she had to lean close to him to catch the words, "I hate him, Hermione, and I want him dead! It was his entire fault that Ginny has frequent nightmares even now! The effing bastard robbed her of her innocence, and I for one, can't overlook that." He stared down at his plate unseeing as he spoke.
Harry too, was looking grim, and agreed, "You're right; it is high time we joined the Order. Then maybe we can finally do something useful to help Dumbledore in this damned war!"
Hermione said nothing, but nodded in agreement.
"You know," Ron resumed, he seemed to have shaken off the hate of earlier, "I'm surprised that Dumbledore let all the muggle parents attend the Graduation ceremony, what with everything that's going on, and the likes of the Malfoys being here."
"The Malfoys wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything right under Dumbledore's nose," Hermione hissed back, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice, "anyway; there's extra security in place, in case anything goes wrong." At Ron and Harry's raised brows, she went on, "All the muggle parents were sent portkeys so they could avoid using the Hogwarts Express to get here, and they'll travel home in the same way, taking their children with them. So we can't travel home together."
Ron sighed and then nodded, "I suppose it's safer that way, but it would have been nice to travel home together, this being our final journey on the Hogwarts Express and everything." There was a silence as each looked down into their plates, their minds far away.
Soon all three were full to bursting with food, and setting down their plates and goblets, they joined the elder Weasleys and the Grangers who were still chatting.
Mrs Weasley seemed to be in her element, as she reminisced happily about the past. Catching Hermione's eye, Ginny grimaced behind her mother's back and sidled away, so as not to listen to her mother telling everyone of the time she had accidentally transfigured herself into a frog while experimenting with her mother's wand at the age of eight.
Hermione felt someone tap her on the shoulder and on turning, saw Mandy Brocklehurst standing behind her smiling.
"I hope I'm not intruding," Mandy said, "but mum and dad have asked to be introduced to your parents."
Returning Mandy's smile, Hermione nodded, and then taking her parents' arms, followed Mandy as she wended her way through the throng of people.
"Hermione, where are we going?" her mother asked, as Hermione led them away from the Weasleys.
"Mandy's parents have asked to meet you. You know; the people I was staying with over Easter?"
"Ah yes," her father nodded, "I remember you mention something about them."
The family followed Mandy to the other side of the tent, and soon Hermione's parents were being introduced to the Brocklehursts. Emily Brocklehurst was at her most charming as she chatted to Hermione's parents, while her husband stood quietly observing the interaction. Not being particularly outgoing, he simply nodded and smiled when introduced.
"I can't believe this is our last day at Hogwarts," Mandy said quietly to Hermione.
"Me neither! We must write regularly," Hermione responded clasping Mandy's arms, knowing that she would miss Mandy's friendship.
"Of course," Mandy agreed, and Hermione noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
"So has everything been arranged for Cambridge?" Hermione questioned with interest. Mandy had been offered a place at Cambridge University to study History of Magic commencing the following September.
"Yeah," Mandy nodded, "I just need to owl them my NEWT results if they don't already know them, and that'll be that."
"I was wondering about that," Hermione frowned, "Is that why we're given our NEWT results before we leave school, but have to wait until mid-summer for our OWL results?"
"Well, most people's NEWT results determine their future careers, so the policy has always been to get them marked as soon as is possible, before the OWLs. After all, we need to know the NEWT results more urgently than the OWLs in order to submit them for our university admissions and job applications."
"That makes sense," Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
Their conversation was interrupted as Professor Flitwick tapped Mandy on the shoulder. With a smile and hurried apology to Hermione and her parents, he led the Brocklehursts away – clearly he wanted to talk to them in private about something.
"Well, we'd better make our way back to the others," Peter said smiling, "the Brocklehursts seemed like nice people. It's a shame we couldn't chat to them longer."
"Yes," agreed Lyn, "everyone we've met so far seems very nice."
They turned as a group with the intention of retracing their steps, when a smooth voice Hermione had no problems recognising said right behind them, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Hermione Granger, this is a pleasure indeed."
For a moment, Hermione considered ignoring Lucius Malfoy, but her parents had turned at the sound of her name and reluctantly she followed suit.
"Mr Malfoy," she acknowledged stiffly, inclining her head while silently cursing the man.
"Come now, my dear, why all the formality?" he drawled smiling paternally down at her, "I presume these are your parents?" His eyes moved to Lyn and Peter standing on either side of Hermione, looking curiously back at him. At her nod he smiled, and held out his hand to her father, who returning his smile, took it. "This is certainly a pleasure," Lucius purred, "I don't know if Hermione has mentioned us to you, but I am Lucius Malfoy. Hermione and my son, Draco, are good friends."
"Peter Granger," her father responded genially, "and this is my wife Lyn." This time Lucius went one step further and raising her mother's hand to his lips, placed a kiss on the back making Lyn blush prettily. Hermione was sickened watching him.
At that precise moment, Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy detach herself from a group of people and make a beeline for them. In seconds she had reached them and was bearing down on Hermione, smiling broadly.
"Hermione, my dear, how lovely to see you!" pulling Hermione to her, she hugged her tightly and then turned to her parents. Lucius wasted no time in making the introductions, and in no time, Narcissa was dominating the conversation.
"You must be very proud of Hermione," she gushed to the Grangers, "I mean she is so young and has accomplished so much!"
"Oh yes," Lyn said returning Narcissa's smile, "We are very proud of her."
"It is wonderful," Narcissa beamed, "I mean coming from rival houses and all that, how Hermione and Draco have become such friends! Incidentally, where is Draco? Like ourselves, our son was very keen to meet you."
She looked round and to Hermione's dismay, she spotted her son talking to Professor Snape and called him over. On seeing the group Draco's eyes, as those of his parents had done, gleamed, and it was all Hermione could do not to turn and run.
"Hermione," Draco smiled striding over to them, "I was wondering where you were. Congratulations on your awards!" He placed a proprietary arm round her waist and carried on, "So are you going to introduce me to your parents?"
Through stiff lips, Hermione made the introductions and Draco continued smoothly, "Hermione's told me so much about you. It's so wonderful to finally meet you in the flesh."
"You too," Peter said, and Hermione could see that he was frowning slightly – no doubt he had remembered Hermione's complaints about Draco Malfoy and how much she hated him. The Malfoys too seemed to have noticed this, for Narcissa quickly broke in.
"I must say, we are looking forward to getting to know you better. I don't know about you, but I find Hogwarts is very restricting. Take our Draco and Hermione for example. Thanks to the way the Houses operate, our children have been prevented from becoming friends! And them being the most intelligent students in their year, it's natural that they would have a lot in common with each other. It is unfortunate that friendship between them wasn't allowed to grow until now."
Hermione knew that Narcissa was up to something – the gleam in her eyes as she talked was an indication of this. Glancing at her parents, she was dismayed and not a little troubled to see that they were both frowning and before she could ask what the matter was, her father interjected, "Hmm, you're right Mrs. Malfoy, that doesn't seem right. Surely a student's House shouldn't have a bearing on their friendships with students from other houses – I mean that's plain ridiculous!"
"Isn't it just," Lucius agreed, smirking, "Look at these two," he indicated Hermione and Draco with a kindly smile, "Before Easter, they couldn't stay in the same room without cursing each other, but take them away from the environment which enforced all their previous prejudices, and they get on perfectly well."
"So where did the two of you meet?" Lyn enquired interestedly, "I presume it was away from Hogwarts?"
"We invited Hermione and the Brocklehursts to dinner at our Manor during the Easter holidays," Draco explained, then turning to include Hermione, he added, "we were both surprised to find how much we had in common, weren't we Hermione?"
"Err…"
"It's ok, Hermione," her mother said with a knowing smile, eyeing the handsome young man beside her daughter, "we do understand you know!"
"No, what I meant was—" Hermione began, but was cut off by her father who laughing said, "It's very similar to a situation I found myself in as a boy. Being on our school football team, it was expected of us to hate the players of our biggest rival – Chancery Grammar. Naturally, my peers and I complied with the expectations placed on us and we really did hate those boys. Anyway, it was a year or so after we'd left school that I met Ted Martin at college – it transpired that he was in the same Biology A-Level class as myself. We avoided each other like the plague, until one day we were forced to work together on a project. I don't know which of us was more unhappy about the situation, but well, to cut a long story short, during the project we got talking and found to our surprise that we had plenty in common and our friendship took off from there. Now Ted is my closest friend and Hermione and Mathew's Godfather."
Like the rest of the group, Hermione was listening avidly to her father, and now exclaimed, "I didn't know that you and Uncle Ted used to play in rival football teams! How come you never mentioned it before?"
"It was a long time ago," her father smiled, "we sometimes laugh about it over a drink. But other than that, it isn't mentioned much because it isn't important any more."
"Quite," Narcissa agreed, "Mathew – is he Hermione's brother?"
"Yes," Lyn replied, "Mathew's four years younger than Hermione. It's a shame he couldn't come here today, but there was a football match he said he couldn't miss. Honestly, boys!" She shook her head in mock exasperation.
"You never told me you had a brother," Draco frowned, looking into Hermione's face, "such a vital thing and you never even mentioned it!"
"Draco darling," Narcissa cooed, "give the poor girl a chance. No doubt there is plenty about Hermione you do not yet know. I'm sure in time she would have told you."
"True," Draco conceded smiling at Hermione who did not return his smile, "That reminds me, do you have anything planned for the summer in terms of holidays?" The question was directed at Hermione's parents who shook their heads, "then you won't mind if Hermione spends two weeks with us at our Villa in the south of France, will you?"
"No, I don't see it being a problem," Peter smiled, "We realise that Hermione is a mature, independent young lady, and even though it saddens us to admit it, part of her belongs to the wizarding world. It's natural she would want to spend time with friends from school before starting medical school in September."
"Err… right," Draco said, clearly perplexed at Peter's reference to Medical School.
Narcissa, however, had no such difficulties, and said sweetly, "Oh of course! You are starting at Stanwick in September Hermione, are you not?"
Hermione nodded with a slight smile, but said nothing.
"Nice place," Lucius commented casually, "not too far from the Manor either."
Hermione didn't want to listen to any more, and turning away, peered into the crowd – she had to get away before she did something she would later regret. Smiling cheerily, she said, "Mum, Dad, we've taken up enough of Mr and Mrs Malfoy's time, I'm sure they have other people they would like to talk to."
Not giving Narcissa a chance to cut in as she was about to do, Hermione rushed on, "Anyway we'd better head back to the Weasleys – they'll be wondering where we are."
"Good point," Peter agreed, following her gaze, "Well, it was nice meeting the three of you." He shook hands once more with a stony-faced Lucius and, with Lyn following, he began to thread his way back towards the other side of the tent.
Hermione too, began to move away, but Draco's arm tightened round her, causing her to stumble and almost fall against him. "Sorry," she gasped, trying to disentangle herself from him, "well, I'd better go too."
"Why?" Draco questioned softly in her ear, "Your parents seem perfectly able to find their way back to the Weasleys without your assistance."
From the corner of her eye, Hermione watched Lucius and Narcissa melt into the crowd leaving the two of them alone. "Let me go," she hissed, trying to wriggle free, "someone'll see us."
"No they won't," came the calm reply, and he began to move towards the tent opening, dragging her with him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, glaring at him.
"Taking you outside. I wish to speak to you."
Hermione bit back a derisive retort and tried once more to pull away from him but to no avail. "Let me go," she threatened, "I'm warning you, I'll scream if you don't release me this instant."
"It's better for you if you come quietly," he said moving behind her and shunting her forwards, "come on now; I just want to talk to you in private."
Twisting round, she stared into his face and glowered, "I suggest for your sake you let me go right now." Her voice quivering slightly with nervous tension, she continued, "or else, I promise I will scream until kingdom come!"
"I'm trying to keep this friendly," came the deceptively quiet reply, "so cooperate. I'd really rather not have to resort to more drastic measures to get you alone, especially today of all days."
Hermione had had enough experience of Draco Malfoy's moods to know when he was on the verge of losing his temper. For a moment, she debated her best course of action, but he took the decision out of her hands by leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her ear lobe.
"What would Potter and Weasley, and even your parents, say to finding us here kissing?" he murmured, his breath tickling her ear, making her give an involuntary gasp. "We both know what the result of such intimacy between us would be. If I'm not mistaken, I saw a photographer from the Daily Prophet lurking around earlier – maybe he'll capture us on camera!"
"You complete…" she gasped, words failing her. She could tell by the steely glint in his eyes that he was prepared to carry out his threat. She could not afford for that to happen, not on her last day at Hogwarts! Her insides squirmed at the thought of what Ron and Harry would say if they saw the two of them together.
Reluctantly, she let him lead her from the tent, hoping all the while that they had not been seen. The sun beat down from a cloudless blue sky, warming Hermione's face as she emerged from the cool interior of the tent, Malfoy right behind her, one hand braced against the small of her back, while the other clasped her shoulder.
"Come," he drawled, shepherding her past the lake where the giant squid could be seen basking in the sun's heat, and round the back of the greenhouses. There was no one in sight now, and the sound of voices could be heard distantly on the still air. Hermione was glad that they were away from prying eyes and did not demur as he lead her further from the tent and her friends. She didn't want them to be witness to the altercation she was intent on having.
Finally, once they had reached the back of the greenhouses and were out of sight of the tents and their occupants, Malfoy drew her to a stop and turning her to face him, looked down into her face, his eyes unreadable. "Tell me something," he said, his eyes boring into hers, "why must you continually fight me?"
"Why shouldn't I?" she challenged, glaring up at him, "I didn't ask to be brought here, now did I?"
"No," he responded quietly, "you didn't. But I would have thought that as we are supposedly friends, I'd at least be deserving of some of your time."
She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but remembering her conversation with Dumbledore a few weeks before, thought better of it. She had to remain on good terms with Malfoy for Dumbledore's sake, if for no one else's, and she wasn't going to do that by deliberately antagonising him. She took a deep breath trying hard to rid herself of the anger she was feeling towards him and shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner.
"Yes, you would," she conceded trying not to sound too grudging, "but is there any need to drag me out here like this?"
"How else do you suggest I talk to you with the Weasleys and your parents constantly surrounding you?"
She had no reply to this, so she stayed silent.
"I'm getting sick of playing second fiddle to everyone else in your life," he said now, taking a step forward and tightening his grip on her shoulders, "there's only so much anyone can be expected to give before snapping, and Hermione, my patience is wearing very thin. I don't like being unkind to you for I think highly of you, but if that is what it takes to make you take notice of me as a person, then so be it!"
She cursed inwardly and knew that she would have to tread very carefully. He was in one of his moods, and the only way she was going to get through to him was by placating him. If things went wrong now with her relationship with Malfoy, Dumbledore and the Order would blame her for it and she was honest enough to admit that they would be perfectly within their right to do so. Also a niggling feeling she would rather not name was causing pangs of conscience to make themselves felt, and she knew instinctively that she didn't want him to think badly of her. Oh but how she wished he would be reasonable about all this!
"You know as well as I do," she started, trying hard to keep the note of exasperation out of her voice, "that this term hasn't exactly been conducive to us spending time together, so please stop whining about something which was out of my control!"
"I'm not whining," he shot back, a slight tinge of colour creeping into his pale cheeks, "Malfoys don't whine! I simply want to know why you've been unable to put aside any time to spend with me, when those two oafs you call 'friends' need only to call your name and you are at their beck and call!"
Hermione now felt the colour sweep into her cheeks and glowering, snapped back, "Firstly, Ron and Harry aren't oafs, and secondly, I'm at the beck and call of no one and don't you forget that!" She had stepped away from him and stood glaring at him, her hands on her hips.
"No?" he sneered back, "Then pray tell me why is it that you are always helping them with work and stuff, when it's obvious to anyone with half a brain cell that intelligence is a by-word where they're concerned."
"You," she spluttered, "how dare you? What do you know about it anyway?" As she watched his set face, she was disconcerted to see a slow smile spread across his face, and then to her bewilderment, he burst out laughing, all traces of anger vanishing from him.
Shaking her head, she asked, "Are you… are you feeling well Malfoy?"
"You know," he choked out, after his initial burst of laughter died down, releasing all the tension between them, "we sounded so much like an old married couple, it was scary. I was vividly reminded of my parents when we were quarrelling – the similarities were comical."
Hermione could feel an answering smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at his words, but tried hard to keep a straight face. She bit hard on her bottom lip so as to stop herself laughing as well, for Malfoy was right – they were quarrelling as she had seen her own parents do sometimes; and like Lyn Granger, Hermione was determined to have the last word! As she watched Malfoy's expression, she saw the laughter fade from his eyes, to be replaced with an expression she didn't want to name. His eyes flicked down to her mouth and fastened on her lower lip clamped between her small white teeth.
"Merlin!" he gasped raggedly and swiftly stepping forward, he gently tugged Hermione's lower lip from between her teeth with his thumb.
Malfoy's caress shot through Hermione, causing her eyes to instinctively stare at his, which were dark with an emotion she did not dare to put a name to. Gulping, she tried stepping back, but her feet remained frozen.
"No," he groaned, "not this time," and moving with a swiftness that made her catch her breath, he caught her to him and tilting her face upwards, bent and claimed her mouth with his own. Hermione's eyes flew open in surprise and she tried to pull back, but he held her too tightly. "Please," he muttered against her closed lips, "Hermione please!"
She let out an involuntary gasp as he teased her lips with his tongue, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue into her open mouth. She felt herself weakening – his onslaught on her senses was robbing her of the power to think, let alone do anything else. She found that she could only respond to him by returning his kisses. She knew that even if she wanted to, she couldn't have stopped her body's response to him. Her arms went round him, and her fingers tangled in his silky hair as she pressed herself to his hard, muscular body, gasping as he grazed his teeth lightly over her lower lip
Finally, breathing hard, he pulled his mouth from hers, and began to trail kisses along her jaw and down her throat. "Oh. Merlin," he moaned, as Hermione arched her body away from him so he could get better access to the skin at her throat; "You. Are. So. Sweet. Intoxicating. Irresistible," he punctuated his words with soft, open-mouthed kisses on her throat and neck, and it was all Hermione could do to stay upright.
It was the sound of laughter drifting across the still grounds that made him lift his head and stare at her. Hermione too, jumped, and her eyes, which had been glazed, now came back into focus. Slowly, Malfoy's expression hardened as he looked down at her.
"Don't expect me to apologise," he said in a tight voice, "because I'm not sorry for what happened!"
"I wasn't expecting anything from you," Hermione responded coolly, as disappointment at the abrupt harshness of his manner flooded through her, "why should I?"
"Good," came his sharp retort, "because we both know that you wanted that as much as I did," he hesitated, and then continued, "so do us all a favour and don't pretend you don't. I really won't empathise if you were to start getting all hysterical on me today."
Hermione felt tears sting the backs of her eyes and blinked them back determinedly. Why was he behaving like this? She had done nothing to cause this abrupt change in him, so why was he so cold towards her?
Straightening her shoulders, she thrust her chin up and said in a deliberately flat voice, "Don't worry, Malfoy, you needn't fear. I've no intention of telling anyone of this. If that's all, I'll take my leave!"
Turning quickly, she walked briskly to put some distance between them. Skirting some trees, she pulled herself to a stop and peered out from behind them. He stood exactly where she had left him, his hands thrust into his pockets and his head bent; he looked the picture of rejection and disappointment. Even as this thought entered her mind, she squashed it; after all, it had been him who had done the rejecting and not her. Giving herself a mental shake, she straightened her robes, and smoothed back her hair. Resolutely turning her back on him, she went to find her parents.
XoXoXoXo
"Oh, c'mon," Mathew wheedled, "just one spell, I mean what's the point of being a witch when you won't even perform any magic?" he gave Hermione his best puppy dog look, but his sister resolutely shook her head.
"I've told you," she said, "I won't pander to your whims – grow up, for heaven's sake!"
"You're boring," he muttered, getting up from the grass where he had been lying. Like Hermione, he possessed an intelligent face topped with a mop of curly brown hair. His eyes were light brown and his normally affable expression was absent as he glowered down at her. "What's it with older people? The moment they reach eighteen, they think they own the world! Well, let me tell you sis, you're no better than me – you got that? Just because you went to some school where they teach magic, it doesn't give you the right to boss me about!"
Stifling a grin, Hermione rolled over on to her back and looked up at him. "When you talk like that, you remind me of a particular spoiled prat," she yawned and continued, "Why don't you go and play football or something?"
"There you go, patronising me again!" he almost yelled, "You wait 'til mum gets home; I'll tell her how you treated me."
"For someone who's almost fifteen, you're behaving like a five-year-old," she snapped, "Act your age, will you?"
"I am acting my age!" came the mutinous reply, "It's you who's acting all stuck up!" Employing a cajoling tone, he tried again, "Erm, that is… er, please, can you do some magic? Please?"
"I said no," Hermione responded, losing patience, but Mathew wasn't listening. His gaze was riveted on the cloudless blue sky above them, and she too, looked up.
"Wow," Mathew breathed, as an owl Hermione didn't recognise flew towards them, "d'you think it'll let me stroke it?"
"I don't see why not," she said, scrambling to her feet and brushing the grass stains from her shorts and t-shirt, "hold out your arm so it can land on it."
He stuck out a sunburnt arm, and tried not to jig round with excitement as the owl flew down to them. It seemed to hesitate, but it finally landed on his arm. The owl then held a leg out to Hermione, on which a letter was tied.
"Cool," Mathew breathed, stroking the owl with one finger, "D'you reckon mum'll let us have one? I mean that mangy old cat of yours is a bit passed it, wouldn't you say?"
"No, I wouldn't," Hermione huffed, while detaching the letter from the owl's leg, "Crookshanks is one of the most intelligent creatures I've come across."
"Then you can't've come across that many intelligent creatures then, can you?" he countered, "Didn't they have anyone brainy at that school of yours? Blimey, they must've all been thick as two planks, if you think that old Crookshanks was more intelligent than them!"
Hermione resisting the urge to cast a silencing charm on her brother, turned away. She wanted to read this letter, but knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate with him talking to her. "Look, let's make a deal," she said, knowing that he would never leave her be unless there was something in it for him, "you go off and bug someone else for a while, and this evening when Mum and Dad get home from work, I'll do some magic!"
He stood thinking this over for a moment, and then nodding, said, "You better stick to your word then! Well, get going – what're you waiting for?" This last was directed at the owl sitting patiently on his arm watching them both.
"Mathew!" Hermione exclaimed, "Have you no manners?"
"What? It's a bloody bird! It's more likely to understand the meaning of a good kick up the backside than a please or thank you!"
Hermione was just about to open her mouth to remonstrate the rude boy, but the owl, clearly having had enough of her sullen brother, pecked him hard on the ear before taking off in a flurry of wings.
"That little…" he spluttered, as Hermione burst out laughing.
"Maybe that'll encourage you to remember your manners," she sniggered, as he rubbed his ear.
"Bloody thing, it deserves to be shot – I could've been mortally wounded!"
"I wish!" Hermione said, reseating herself on the blanket on which they had been sun bathing, "now go and pester someone else, or no magic this evening!"
"Girls!" came the disgusted reply, "stuck up old cows, the lot of them!" At Hermione's warning look, he said, "All right, all right, I'm going over to Tom's for a game of footy! At least there aren't any boring old farts there to make a man's life miserable." He went off, throwing her a dirty look as he made his way down the back garden, and out of the gate into the lane beyond.
As the gate clanged shut, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief – sometimes she wondered how her parents ever put up with him. Swiftly, she untied the roll of parchment the owl had delivered and read the short note:
"Hermione,
I want to talk to you. I will come round at 3:30 this afternoon.
I hope this is a convenient time, otherwise, let me know to reschedule.
Quentin."
Glancing at her watch, Hermione realised that she had only fifteen minutes before Quentin arrived. Scrambling to her feet, she hastily gathered up the remains of the picnic lunch she and Mathew had been enjoying, and took it all into the kitchen. With a few deft flicks of her wand, the crockery and cutlery were clean and back in their rightful places in the gleaming mahogany cupboards, and the uneaten food was sitting on the bottom shelf of the fridge neatly wrapped in cling film.
Going into the living room, she hastily dragged a brush through her hair and tied it back. Plumping up the cushions on the sofa, she sat down to wait. She wondered what it was Quentin wanted to discuss, and a dart of excitement ran through her – maybe he was going to tell her that she could join the Order soon!
A pop behind her made Hermione whirl around and there he was, smiling sardonically as he surveyed his surroundings.
"Nice place," he commented, "are your parents at work?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, "and my brother is over at his friend's house a few doors down, so we won't be interrupted."
"Good," came the terse reply, and pulling out his wand, Quentin proceeded to wave it in a circle which encompassed them both. At Hermione's questioning look, he explained, "Dome of Silence – no one can eavesdrop on our conversation this way."
"Oh right," she nodded, watching him as he sat down opposite her.
"Right, he began, stretching out his long legs, "I've a few messages to pass on to you from Dumbledore and not much time to spare." At her nod, he went on, "Now, you're probably wondering about the Order and when you'll be able to join."
"Yes, I did wonder," she admitted with a smile, and leaned forward eagerly.
"Well, the thing is, Hermione, you aren't going to join the Order; at least not for the time being, that is."
"What?" Hermione gasped, pulling herself to the edge of her seat, "Not join the Order? Why?"
"Calm down!" Quentin assured the girl, "I told Dumbledore you wouldn't be happy but he insisted. And he has valid reasons, Hermione."
"Oh, he does, does he?" she challenged, her annoyance taking hold of her.
"Yes, he does, and if you'll give me a chance, I'll explain them to you." With that, Hermione subsided, and Quentin went on, "Dumbledore wants you to befriend the Malfoy heir. However, he is worried that Lucius Malfoy may take it into his head to slip you some Veritaserum when you aren't looking, so as to get information out of you. The best of us have difficulty fighting that stuff and you are very young, so Dumbledore thinks it safer all round if you knew as little about the Order as possible."
Hermione's fingers tightened on her wand and she felt her eyes fill with tears. A mixture of feelings flooded her: resentment and hurt at Dumbledore for doing this, unreasonable hate towards the Malfoys for preventing her induction into the Order, and reproach towards herself for not seeing this coming. She glared at Quentin who sat passively watching her.
"Hermione, it isn't the end of the world you know," he said gently, making her want to scream.
"You don't understand," she choked out, "I've been looking forward to joining and doing something useful for the Order since the rise of Voldemort, and just as I thought I could be of some use, the chance is snatched away from me – how do you expect me to feel about that?"
There was a pause in which he regarded her thoughtfully, then getting up, he crossed to sit beside her on the sofa. Turning Hermione's face towards him, he gave her shoulders a shake. "Think about it," he said, "what you're doing is much more valuable to the cause than anything your friends will be doing – believe me! Infiltrating the home of a well-known Death Eater is no easy task; it's certainly beyond the capabilities of most people and a great risk, but you can do it, and by doing so, can provide us with information the value of which I doubt even you realise."
"Really?" she asked sarcastically, "And do you think that the said Death Eater is going to be foolish enough to leave anything vaguely incriminating lying around for me to pick up? Lucius Malfoy may be many things, but he is certainly not stupid! He'll guess that I'm working for Dumbledore and feeding him information."
He gazed thoughtfully at her pale face for a moment, and then as though coming to a decision, said, "Have you never wondered how Voldemort knew who the members of the Order of the Phoenix were during the last war?"
"He probably found out through spies – people like Wormtail," she dismissed.
"No, he knew because members of the Order are branded by Dumbledore's Phoenix."
"Branded? You mean…" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening with shock.
He laughed, and then elaborated, "No sorry, wrong word. I should say 'marked'. The phoenix marks the person and the magical field surrounding the Order members changes slightly, not enough so that it is easily noticeable, but the field can be picked up by powerful wizards such as Voldemort. Basically, what happens is that when a person is initiated into the Order, the phoenix's magic interweaves with that of the person, changing it slightly."
"I see," Hermione replied, sitting back and digesting this.
"So you see, in some ways you are in more danger if you are a member of the Order while in Malfoy's home than if you are not." He gave her a worried glance but she ignored it.
"Yes, I see that," she murmured thoughtfully. "Damn the Malfoys! It's their fault that I can't join the Order!" Her mind went back to the last time that she and Draco Malfoy had spoken, and she felt the heat creeping up her face. Since their graduation over five days ago, she had had no word from him – not that she had been counting the days since, of course!
"Be that as it may," Quentin responded blandly, "You still have to be nice to them, and that means talking to the heir!"
It took all of Hermione's resolve not to break eye contact with him, and she hoped that her face wasn't as red as she suspected it was. "It was his fault," she muttered, "I don't see why I should be nice to him after…"
Choosing not to comment on this, Quentin continued, "I want to hear that you've been in correspondence with him by this time next week ok?" He wagged a finger at her and she scowled, before finally nodding grudgingly. He took a quick look at his watch and resumed, "Good, now I would like to continue our training the day after tomorrow. We'll use Hogwarts – it's the safest place." He rummaged in a pocket and brought out a hand mirror and handed it to her. "Portkey. Keep it in your handbag and when you're ready to use it, just tap it with your wand and it will activate and take you straight to the room where we normally practice."
Hermione nodded, and turned the ordinary-looking mirror over in her hands with interest.
"Good, I'll be seeing you then. And Hermione, swallow your pride and write to the Malfoy boy, for the sake of the Order, if not your own." With a casual flick of his wand, he undid the Dome of Silence, and Disapparated, leaving her alone.
Hermione sat back and putting the mirror into her pocket, glared at the empty room. How dare Quentin order her around like that? What did he know of her last encounter with the Malfoys anyway? Sometimes, Quentin was just insufferable and she didn't know why she put up with him. She blushed afresh at the raised brow he had treated her to, when she had tried to defend the lack of contact between her and Malfoy. If she didn't know any better, she would have said that he knew exactly what had transpired behind the greenhouses!
Pushing this uncomfortable thought away, she made her way upstairs and into her room. She supposed she had better get it over with and write to Malfoy – not that the prat deserved it. She wasn't sure how she felt about not being allowed to join the Order; Quentin's explanation, as much as it galled her to admit it, made sense and she scowled afresh. She wondered why her own part in all this was so vital, but knew that it made sense for security reasons for her not to be told. She shivered; wars were terrible things at the best of times – cruel and pointless, but when you were in the middle of one, it was a completely different board game. Black looked like white and white like black, and that was not taking into account all the greys in between.
Sitting down at her desk, she pulled a piece of parchment towards her – it was time to put her promise to Quentin into action and write to Malfoy. Making herself comfortable, she prepared for one of the most difficult tasks she had ever undertaken – that of trying to mend a breach the cause of which she was not even aware.