Disclaimer: JKR owns them.
Beta: The most fabulous sorbet.
The Return of Draco Malfoy
Chapter Three
The sun shone brightly through the sheers covering the eastern window, something that usually gave Hermione a bit of a nice nudge to begin the day. This morning, however, she was irritable and exhausted; the night had all at once felt far too short and interminably long. Hermione grumbled as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. Throughout the night her thoughts had continuously led her back to The Kiss, as she now referred to it. The memory had been unearthed in vivid detail causing sleep to be elusive.
She grudgingly shoved her bum off of the mattress, and when the old springs protested their unfurling, she glared back at the inanimate object. "I don't need comment from you," she snapped.
Lack of sleep always made her look pale and drawn, even after only one night; the bathroom mirror reflected as much. She grabbed her bush from the drawer and dragged it ruthlessly through the mass of tangles that a restless night had caused. When she stepped into the steaming shower a few moments later, her thoughts carried her away to Hogwarts once more.
January 1998
The session today was their first since the Winter Hols had ended, and Hermione was eager to discuss her recent findings with Malfoy – not that she wanted to speak to him, but he did have more intelligence than she had previously given him credit for, and she could use his input. She headed toward the Room of Requirement, arms overloaded with a tower of precariously stacked books, barely able to see. Hermione wasn't one to not take advantage of the unlimited library privileges Dumbledore had allowed her. Just as she rounded the corner to the RoR corridor, she ran into some sort of solid barrier. The books slipped from her arms to thump and thud into a heap on the stone floor.
"Sorry," a distracted voice mumbled from beside her.
She was shocked to see the top of a platinum head as someone knelt next to her to retrieve the tomes. This was unexpected, Malfoy was picking up the books rather than drawling a rude comment about her inferior ability to navigate the halls of Hogwarts, and, if she wasn't mistaken, he had actually apologized. Surely she had not heard that particular word fall from the lips of Draco Malfoy. They had barely spoken to one another during their forced association of the past couple of months. Communication was short and to the point, and always, only in reference to their work.
"Excuse me, but did you just apologize, Malfoy?" Hermione had to be sure, but Draco only mumbled something inaudible in response as he carried the books through the entryway that had just appeared before them. Hermione watched his back with a curious expression as he disappeared into the room. A few seconds later she entered and sat across from him as he absently leafed through one of the books.
"I've marked the relevant passages, just open to a tab and the information will be highlighted," she stated.
Malfoy merely flipped from tab to tab without comment. Hermione sighed and opened the notebook she was using for Arithmancy calculations.
They worked in silence for about a quarter of an hour. Hermione looked up to see Draco staring off at a spot on the wall, apparently lost in thought. "Malfoy?"
He turned to look at her, pink spots appeared on his cheeks from the embarrassment of being caught day dreaming, though he attempted to look as if Hermione had disturbed something important.
"I'd like to share my notes with you; I've come to several new conclusions based upon the research I did over the Hols."
"Proceed," he said in the same clipped tone he'd used during all of their meetings.
Hermione pushed a notebook over the table, and cleared her throat. "Please note the first section, it deals with the controversial Detachment Theory found in 'A Sorcerers's Guide to Mid-Century Theory'." She paused to allow him time to read the segment. "I believe that if we adjust the Arithmancy very slightly and use the resulting spell in conjunction with the Binding Hex, and the Containment Curse which can be found in 'Soul Solutions for Dark Wizards', we may have just what we need. I'm certain that we can work out a way to combine the three so that Harry can cast them simultaneously. What are your thoughts?" she asked, very curious to hear his answer. Draco didn't reply; his head was bent over her notes as if he was still reading.
After waiting for several seconds Hermione became impatient. "Are you going to answer my question, Malfoy?" she queried, causing him to look up with a hint of confusion in his eyes. She was surprised at an errant thought concerning the attractiveness of those eyes.
"What?"
"I just asked you for your thoughts on my hypothesis."
"Perhaps you need to speak up," he replied defensively.
Though she intensely disliked him, she couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for the boy. He was not usually so easily distracted from their work, even she had to admit he normally took it quite seriously, and had contributed just as much as she so far. "I spoke at a sufficient level to be heard, perhaps you could pay attention. Something seems to have you rather distracted today."
He appeared to crack under some sort of pressure and snapped, "Presenting a false front to one's family over the course of an entire holiday can be quite taxing."
Hermione felt slightly guilty and let her shoulders sag as she inhaled and released a deep breath. "I can see how that would be difficult."
Draco's expression tightened in obvious anger. "I don't need your pity, Granger," he spat.
"It's not pity, simply an understanding that you're no longer living the easy life of an aristocrat." She tried to soothe his ego, not needing a research partner who was both reluctant and angry.
"You've no idea." His voice sounded weary and a little vulnerable as he rubbed his temples.
The gesture alone spoke volumes of the state he must be in; the fact that he would allow her to see even a small sign that things were not perfect in his world meant that he had let a bit of the wall he always surrounded himself with crumble. It was now or never, Hermione decided, and steeled herself for the Malfoy Tirade that was sure to follow her next prying question. "I would very much like to know why you chose to turn on your father and his ideals. How did you decide to become a spy? It has been rather obvious that you truly believe the garbage that Voldemort spews to his followers, so why the sudden turn around?" Hermione had, of course, been curious about this since the moment she was told of his defection but never thought she had any chance of obtaining an answer before today.
Draco studied her with a piercing gaze for several seconds; he really did look exhausted. Hermione could see a ghosting of purple under his eyes and his skin appeared a slightly paler shade than normal.
"I expected you to demand that information long ago, what caused the delay?" There was no bite in his words, actually, he seemed resigned to the fact that she would need an answer.
Without thinking twice, Hermione answered bluntly, "I didn't feel that anything you had to say would change my mind about your intentions. It's been difficult to reconcile the old 'Death Eater in Training Malfoy' with the new and improved 'Spy for the Order Malfoy'. You've made no secret of your hatred for Harry, Ron, and myself, so it seemed all too suspicious that you would suddenly change sides."
"I certainly didn't do it out of a desire to support Potter," he growled.
She was losing her tenuous hold on his lowered defenses. "Of course not, but I wasn't asking what reasons didn't contribute to your reformation." She wasn't going to back down now.
Draco sighed deeply before giving her an oversimplified answer. "If you must know, I can't abide giving up all control over my own future."
"Could you be more specific?" Hermione pushed, hoping it wasn't too much.
"You're quite demanding," he stated in what could possibly have been considered an almost joking manner. That unnerved Hermione a bit; he had either changed dramatically over the break or he was trying to do something devious that she wasn't catching onto.
"Just contribute it to my insatiable thirst for knowledge of any sort." She matched his subtle attempt at humor, hoping to set him even more at ease.
Draco snorted quietly under his breath, but didn't respond.
"You know I can't tell anyone what you say in here, so your secrets won't leave these walls."
One more sigh escaped his lips and his gaze settled across the room; several seconds passed in silence before he spoke. "Obviously you know that my father expects me to become a Death Eater, I'm actually set to take the Mark immediately upon the completion of my Hogwarts education. I've been receiving training over the last two summers."
Hermione tilted her head in question as to what type of training, but she didn't interrupt.
"I can tell you want to ask," he said turning minutely toward her. "The Dark Lord wanted me trained in spell development."
Ah-ha, Hermione thought as the realization of Dumbledore's motives for pairing them up came to light.
"Apparently he'd been keeping tabs on my progress at school and decided that my most useful talent would be critical thinking; there aren't too many in his ranks who can contribute more than brute force. My father had also taken it upon himself to ensure that I had a good knowledge of tactical defense strategy; he didn't want me to be useless in actual battle situations." He shifted a bit in his chair. "Anyway, this past August, I was finally summoned to appear before the Dark Lord; my father was elated as none of the others my age had been called yet. He went on and on about what an honor it was, and I believed him."
Hermione couldn't help but bristle a bit at the thought that anyone would consider it an honor to come face to face with Voldemort, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
"I was portkeyed to the meeting place and waited with my father and several others for the arrival of the Dark Lord. Upon hearing a loud crack, my father shoved me to my knees; everyone else had fallen immediately in a show of subjugation."
Hermione listened intently, very curious to hear a first hand account of the happenings at a Death Eater meeting.
"I was none too happy with sullying my best dress robes on the filthy floor of the room we were in."
This comment made her laugh lightly – he did always seem to have an immaculate appearance.
Draco raised an eyebrow at her and continued. "The Dark Lord was angry about something. He called two men, whom I recognized from my fathers parties, to his feet. They crawled, actually crawled to him, begging his forgiveness. Crucio flew from his mouth several times over the next few minutes and the men writhed and screamed while we watched. When the Dark Lord tired of torturing his minions, they lay broken and weeping on the dirty floor. He motioned to someone else and the two were dragged off to a corner." He paused, a shadow seemed to envelop his face. "His attention then turned to me."
Hermione's heartbeat quickened in anticipation and a small amount of fear for Draco.
"He seemed pleased when he spoke next, 'Ah, Lucius, you have not failed me today. I see that your son is present as I requested.' His voice had this terrible hissing quality. 'Yes, my Lord', my father answered from his spot on the ground."
Draco's brow was furrowed, and his eyes where diverted; she could tell that he didn't like reliving the evening. Hermione silently asked the Room for tea service and it appeared on the table within seconds. She poured a cup and handed it to Draco who accepted it with a nod of thanks and sipped before he continued.
"He told my father to come forward, to show me how to give proper respect to my new Master. I couldn't believe what I saw next." Draco glared straight ahead without looking at Hermione. "My father, just like the two others summoned before him, crawled," he emphasized the word, "across the room to the Dark Lord's feet. He kissed the hem of his robe and kept his head lowered. My father sat on his knees in the dirt, head bowed, extolling the virtues of his Master for what seemed an eternity. I heard Crucio once more, and this time it was directed at me."
Hermione gasped as her hand flew to her chest.
He paused at her reaction looking at her from the corner of his eye. "He actually held it for a shorter period of time than my father had any of the times he'd cast it on me."
Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. "Your FATHER has cast Cruciatus on you?"
"It's his favored form of punishment these days. When I was younger he would lock me in the Manor's dungeons for a couple of days at a time and threaten the house elves so they wouldn't bring me food; but I digress." The horrified look on Hermione's face triggered another angry outburst. "I said that I don't need your pity, Granger, besides, these forms of punishment are not altogether unheard of in the Pureblood community."
"It's just so awful..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head in what she wished could be disbelief.
"Let's get back to the point of this story, shall we? I'll just skip over the rest of the meeting, it was really just more of the same. That night as I sat in my chambers, I thought about the fact that my father had utterly humiliated himself. I'd always been taught that pride was of the utmost importance and that I should protect the pride of the Malfoy name at all costs. I'd always seen my father as one of the most powerful and influential wizards of our time. He could make anything happen with a single word." His fists clenched in his lap. "That night, however, he was nothing; he was a follower, he was pathetic. I felt that my world had turned upside down. My father was no longer someone I wanted to emulate. I knew that I didn't want to become a lackey with no self respect, I wasn't going to give up everything to follow the psychotic...what ever he is, just to be treated as badly as he treats his enemies."
Hermione interrupted, saying, "So you went to Dumbledore."
He nodded. "When term began a few days later I asked for an audience with the Headmaster. I'd always thought of him as an old fool, thanks to my father, so it was difficult to trust my life to him, but my father had apparently been very wrong about so many other things that I took a chance." He looked at Hermione, and then with darkened eyes looked away once more. "Dumbledore sat quietly as I told my story. When I finished, he regarded me for a moment, and then asked if I'd willingly submit to questioning under the influence of Veritiserum."
A lock of his hair fell to brush his cheek causing her to wonder if it was really as soft and fine as it looked. She quickly banished that thought from her mind and refocused on Draco's words.
"I agreed. The questioning lasted only about ten minutes before he summoned someone through the floo. I was shocked to see Snape appear in the office; I'd not known of his true loyalty until that very moment." Draco finally reached to smooth his hair back before continuing. "They asked several more questions, and then discussed me as if I weren't there." His face contorted in annoyance at the thought. "I was then presented with a choice; they could send me off to the Continent to hide, or I could become a spy."
Hermione would have thought that he'd have chosen the former; his presence proved otherwise.
"That would be how I find myself in this situation; spilling my guts to a Muggleborn that I don't even like. It has become very tiring to have to watch every thing I say and do around the people I once considered friends or family. I don't know how Snape has done it all this time." He was rubbing his temple again, this time with his eyes closed.
Hermione felt something for him that she couldn't explain; she wanted to ease his burden. She also thought that something else must have happened over Yule to facilitate the change that was apparent in him only now, but she didn't want to pry too much at once.
"I could summon my headache potion," she said reaching for her wand.
"No, I'm fine."
The nerve endings in her skin jolted her from the memory suddenly as the water had gone ice
cold. "Bloody Hell!" Her morning routine was going to be all out of whack if she had been in the shower long enough to drain the hot water tank. She grabbed a towel, dried off quickly, and picked her wrist watch up from the vanity. "Shit" She'd have to skip her trip to the bakery down the street if she wanted to get to work twenty minutes early as she always did.
When she flooed into the Ministry she was doubly irritated. Not only had she not slept a wink, but she had also had to set aside the trip to the bakery that she had made every Tuesday for the last eight years.
The last thing she wanted to see that morning was the smiling face and crossed-legged form of Draco Malfoy sitting in her office. "You're early," she snapped at him from the doorway.
The smile faded from his face and he stood. "I could come back another time if you would
prefer, Ms. Granger."
She inhaled deeply, knowing she was being unreasonably rude, and crossed the small room to take her seat on the opposite side of the desk. "No, do sit down." She motioned to the chair he had just evacuated. "I'm going to have tea. You?"
"Yes, please," he politely replied as he took a seat once more.
Hermione conjured tea service for two, prepared a cup, and sipped it slowly. The warm liquid in her belly helped sooth the annoyance a bit. She offered Draco a croissant, which he declined, and spoke again. "I believe that you have some questions."
Draco set his teacup down and rested his right hand over the left that had been sitting still on his thigh.
The next thirty minutes were spent replying to Draco's queries with answers that could easily have been found in the Ministry Handbook that he was undoubtedly given upon his offer of employment. She thought it was strange that he was so anxious to meet with her in regards to general Ministry policy; none of what he asked about seemed of particular importance.
"That covers all of my questions, thank you for your time," he said as he rose and stepped towards the door.
Just as he was about to leave, a green envelope came whizzing into the room, smacked into his chest, and fell to the floor. "What in Merlin's name is that?" he asked, pointing to the bit of folded and sealed parchment at his feet.
Hermione couldn't restrain a giggle. "That's a note from the Director's secretary – hers are always green, unless the matter is extremely urgent. You're probably being asked to meet with Director Parks sometime today."
Draco bent to pick up the parchment and opened it. After a moment, he looked at Hermione with what might be mistaken as a smirk. "This is my office assignment. It would appear that we'll be sharing a work space. I've been assigned the office adjoining your lab."
Damn, she cursed internally. Hermione had forgotten about the fact that the office adjoining her lab had been vacant since Dobbs moved to Romania a month ago. She forced a smile. "How lovely." The comment didn't sound quite sincere.
"Yes, it is. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon. Good day."
"Good day," she returned.
After he left the room, she wondered how she was ever going to get any work done.
A/N - My profuse apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I started over several times, and then ruthlessly distracted my beta with fifteen pointless emails per day while she was trying to find all of my errors. Thanks to all who read and especially to those who reviewed. I am endlessly flattered that you took the time to comment.