Malfoy's laughter reverberated around the small compartment as he reached out to pick up the wine bottle. Hermione bit on her lip and fought to stop her face from exploding with embarrassment. It was a losing battle and she knew it. In the end she just gave up and stared out of the window at the countryside flashing past outside. They had passed out of the mountains now and the view from the window was quite striking. Endless fields dotted with trees and tiny cottages stretched off into the distance as far as her eye could see. If she could only concentrate on it hard enough, Hermione thought, she might just be able to survive the rest of this journey. She sighed all the same, it wasn't going to be easy. They still had a long way to go before their train reached its destination.
'Why did I say that?' Hermione asked herself, feeling the hot twinge of a blush spread up from her neck to her cheeks, 'Of all the stupid…'
Malfoy continued to laugh as he refilled first his glass, and then hers with wine. Hermione turned to watch the burgundy liquid slosh about in the bottom of her glass as he poured. She wondered just how much of it was now running through her head, 'Too much,' she scolded herself, vowing not to drink any more of the stuff, even thought the damage was already done. She turned her face away to the window again as, grinning like a pale-faced clown, Malfoy twisted the cork back into the neck of the bottle and sat back. He watched her for a second and then folded his arms across his chest. He was just loving this, she knew he was. A deep, resonating chuckle escaped him and caused another flash of outraged anger in her.
Hermione ground her teeth together, wishing she had something to hand that she could throw at him, "Oh shut up," she barked, turning to glare at him, "Just…just shut up!"
Malfoy's grin widened, he lowered his head and stared at her through his fringe, "Oh come now," he drawled, his eyes twinkling wickedly, "don't get all huffy. I can't help it if I think it's funny."
'It is not funny!' the thought exploded inside her head, but the words wouldn't come out. This was why she hated even thinking about discussing anything personal with anyone. Whenever she tried, the words seemed to get jumbled up in her head. 'No,' she corrected her self, 'it wasn't a discussion…it was nothing…just a slip of the tongue…that's ALL it was!' That thought made her feel better, but not much. Malfoy continued to stare at her, and all she could do was stare back. She certainly had no intention letting him turn her little faux pas into something bigger, but it seemed inevitable. She had no idea how to prevent it. For once, she was truly speechless. 'If only I'd been speechless thirty seconds ago!" Hermione shook her head.
Malfoy's laughter died away and his smile faded to a forced frown. He let out a long, slow sigh and then, just stared at her. Hermione scowled at him and was about to turn away from him again when she realised that, with his hands folded across his chest as they now were, and a grim expression on his face, Malfoy was mirroring her posture. Anger rose inside her – he was mocking her!
"Stop that," she snapped at him.
"Stop what?" Malfoy's face remained blank, but Hermione thought she could hear just a hint mischief in his voice.
"You know what," she said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the narrow table that separated them.
"No," Draco sat forward to copy her new pose, "I'm afraid I don't. Why don't you tell me?"
Hermione took a breath, "You are making fun of me," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Is that what I'm doing?" Draco's eyebrow twitched.
Hermione stared at him, "You really are a git, do you know that?" she said. Insults were, she knew, a poor attempt to change the subject, but when in doubt, go with what works. Hermione had had lots of practice insulting Malfoy over the years, so much so that it was second nature to her. Despite her tenuous position, she actually managed to make her words sound sincere and harsh.
Malfoy stared back at her, matching her glare with his own, "Is that what I am?" he asked coldly, no stranger to being insulted.
Hermione leaned even closer to him, willing her eyes not to water as she held his gaze, "Yes!"
Malfoy paused, his eyes never moving as he stared at her. "Well," he said at last, "I don't suppose I can argue with that, but," the distance closed again. Hermione could now clearly see every silver fleck in his grey eyes, "at least I'm a good looking git."
Hermione heard the words, and Malfoy's deadpan, utterly serious tone. She could see no trace of humour in his eyes and yet, as the aroma of the wine wafted up out of the glasses and filled her nostrils, she felt her lip twitch. Hermione fought it hard, but the tremble was too much for her. In the end she was forced to look away as a small smile broke through. A tiny chuckle escaped from Malfoy's lips.
'Damn it!' Hermione knew, without looking, that he would have a massive grin on his face. For some reason, the wine she presumed, her smile only widened with that knowledge.
"Hallelujah," he exclaimed, "she has a sense of humour. I was beginning to wonder there for a moment."
Hermione looked up, sending him a hard glare as he sat back. Just as she expected, he was grinning. Her mind raced, this could only get worse. She needed to get the upper hand here somehow, or she'd never hear the end of it, "Is that right?" she said, forcing herself to speak calmly.
Draco nodded, "It is," his grin turned lopsided, "You hide it well though, why is that?"
"I don't hide it at all," she said, drawing her head up high, "It's just that I don't have a lot to smile about when I'm around prats like you."
Malfoy's hand shot up to his chest and clutched his heart, "Ouch," he groaned, making a real attempt at sounding like he was actually in pain, "that hurts, Granger, that really hurts," he shook his head, "I don't mind being called a git. A git, I can understand…but a prat?" He leaned forward and laid his hand on top of hers, "Say it isn't so," he said in a pleading, high pitched tone.
Hermione found her eyes drawn to the table, and to her hand. More specifically, she was drawn inexorably to Malfoy's hand as it rested ever so gently atop her own. 'Ok…Malfoy's…touching me,' she thought, 'That's…weird.' It was certainly an odd experience. She could only recall ever touching him twice before, and both of those times had been while punching the bigoted, self obsessed little brat. The memory of seeing the better part of his front tooth flying out of the Owlery window on that frosty December morning still made her smile. Her eyes rose now to his face. His tooth had been fixed, mores the pity. Madame Pomfrey hadn't even had the decency to make him suffer its loss for a day…or twenty. That tooth, along with all its other pearly white friends was now being flashed in her direction as Draco grinned at her. Hermione felt the tips of his fingers move slightly against her skin in a gentle caress, a shiver ran up her arm and then down her spine. It was only then that her alcohol clouded mind finally caught up with events. This was a game! Malfoy was testing her, deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable.
It was working. One look at his eyes and she felt herself start to blush again, 'No, damnit,' she ordered herself, 'He is not going to beat you. You are better than him…play it out.'
Hermione's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and she felt a tiny tug of a smile on her lip as an idea occurred to her. Slowly, she lifted her free hand to stroke his jaw line, "Sorry, Malfoy," she made her voice sound smooth and distant, like a forced whisper, "but I promised my mother that id always tell the truth," he flinched a little when her fingers brushed over his lips and continued past his chin and down the line of his throat, "and the truth," she pressed her hand flat against the base of his neck and pushed, hard, "hurts!"
Malfoy's head shot back and, with a thoroughly satisfying thud, bounced off the wall of the carriage. Beneath the table, his knees bucked in reflex and slammed into the support bar. The wine glasses skittered and bounced with the force of the blow. Malfoy swore loudly and rubbed the back of his head with one hand as the other disappeared downward to tend to his knee.
'Serves him right!' Hermione thought momentarily, but then her conscience started to niggle at her. The thud had been really loud. She'd obviously pushed him awfully hard, harder than she had intended. The pain on his face was not an act anymore. Hermione almost felt sorry for him, but, she smiled…not quite!
After a moment, the swearing stopped and Malfoy reached out for his glass. He paused with it half raised to his lips and stared at her hard. "The truth hurts does it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with barely subdued emotion.
Hermione forced her smile to remain, "Most of the time, yes."
He seemed to consider this, "I see," he said and he raised the glass up to her to proffer a toast, "Will you drink to that?"
Hermione smiled again, and trailed her finger lazily around the rim of her glass as though contemplating whether or not to accept the toast. She waited until he raised an eyebrow in annoyance before relenting.
Clink! Their glasses chimed off one another. The deep, warm sound of lead glass filled the carriage.
'Victory!' Hermione congratulated herself on what seemed to be a near perfect recovery of her dignity. She watched as Draco raised his glass to his lips and took a sip and then lifted hers to do the same. She had just gotten a mouthful of wine when, "So," Malfoy's voice was a slick purr, "you were telling me that you've never had an orgasm?"
Hermione's head shot forward and she spat hard into her glass, spraying wine all over her face. Some of it was propelled rather forcefully down her throat, making her gag. She coughed into the glass and could suddenly feel the warm liquid start to trickle down the inside her nose, 'Yeugh!' it was a nauseating sensation.
Glaring at him in disbelief, she set her glass down hard, not caring that half the remaining wine bounced out of it and splashed across the table in the process. Malfoy started to laugh again, louder than ever. Hermione wiped her mouth off with her sleeve. Her fingers tightened around the stem of the wineglass and, for a moment, the image of hurling it at Malfoy's smug head filled her mind. 'But,' she told herself, fighting to slow her breathing as she glared at the smug blonde, still reeling in laughter, 'it won't solve anything.'
It really wouldn't, she kept telling herself. It was only a small glass, nowhere near heavy enough to do him any real damage. The best outcome that she could realistically hope for would be his storming off in anger at being covered in wine. She looked at the glass, it was all but empty. There wasn't even enough left in it for that meagre retribution. On top of that, with the way her luck was going lately, she'd most likely miss the idiot anyway. Hermione released the glass and stared once more out the window. The countryside was unchanged, no surprise there since it had been less than a minute since she had last looked out at it.
Why her? Why was it always her? Why did Dumbledore have to send her on this bloody mission? Why had she said yes before hearing the full story? Why, in all that was good in the world, why did he pick Draco 'Ferret' Malfoy to escort her? She sighed to herself. Ok so with Europe in the state it was in these days, travelling alone wasn't exactly what you could call safe. It didn't matter who you were or where you were going, having an escort made sense. Hermione understood that, she just didn't understand why she had to have this particular escort. She sighed, she should have insisted they travel by portkey. Blow the difficulty of creating such a long distance portal, never mind the illegality of crossing a dozen countries at once without permission, bother the risk, the very slight risk, of ending up miles off target and winding up, say, in the middle of a lake, or inside a mountain…right now those seemed to be pleasant alternatives. Right now, anywhere on earth would be preferable to right here, in this tiny train compartment, with the world's largest rodent thoroughly enjoying himself at her expense.
She should have known better, she really should. She should have seen this coming a mile off. Reformed character? Malfoy? Not a chance. Life was just a game to him, it always had been. This had just been the latest round. All the signs were there, his acceptance of the assignment without quibble, without even a mention of the 'M' word – a word he'd never dared to call her since the flying tooth incident. But still, he should have at least complained, shouldn't he? Then there was the train station that morning, he'd been…Hermione groaned silently, he'd actually been nice to her, opening doors, helping with her luggage. He hadn't even taken a pop at Ron, which had definitely been a first.
"...I suppose I shouldn't be surprised…" his voice came through as though from a distance, unwelcome, "…people talk…wouldn't have kept it quiet if they had…"
Hermione replayed the earlier conversation again, trying to tune out Malfoy's droning, politely lewd commentary at the same time. She really should have seen this coming. The gradual shift in the tone of the conversation toward more private matters, the way he had casually slipped little things into the mix, things she would never discuss openly with another living soul. She'd even warned him about it for Merlin's sake. She should have seen it coming!
And yet…and yet, he'd been so…so nice to her, so friendly and sincere that she'd actually let her guard down. She hadn't been suspicious when he had produced the bottle of what he said was rather expensive Bordeaux, 'To make the journey pass quicker.' That's when the alarm bells should really have started to ring. Hermione couldn't drink wine, and she knew she couldn't. Malfoy knew it too, hadn't he seen her at the graduation ball, too pie-eyed to stand up straight after three bloody glasses of the stuff?
All the same, she could remember thinking, 'What the hell, it can't hurt.' Then, when the glasses had gone from full to empty, and so had the bottle, the second one had appeared, and still, she hadn't seen it coming.
Hermione groaned, staring at the landscape flashing past was suddenly making her dizzy. It was yet another reminder of how drunk she was, how drunk she hoped she was. There was no way, NO WAY she would have ever dreamed of telling him…of telling anyone…that! She'd never have done it sober, but…but, she had done it, she had said…that, and there was no un-saying it now. She felt like crying. Why had she said it? Malfoy hadn't even asked her anything like that, not directly! He had been talking about himself hadn't he? About one of his conquests, Pansy or was it Cho? Hermione wasn't sure. Her head was starting to hurt and Malfoy's incessant laughter at her was really starting to get annoying. She turned to face him, fully prepared to roar an order at him to shut up when she realised that he already had, and that he was looking at her with a quizzical expression.
Hermione frowned at him, "What?" her voice came out as a hoarse growl.
Malfoy shook his head, "I've been talking to you for at least a minute here, Granger," he said, "Do try and keep up."
Hermione felt her throat clench in anger, "I do not want to keep up, Malfoy," she snapped, "I am trying to ignore you in case you hadn't noticed."
"Oh I noticed," he said with a smile, "That is," he leaned forward, "I noticed you trying…but I'm not an easy person to ignore."
"You can say that again," Hermione said quietly, and instantly regretted it. She had been thinking aloud, and it didn't take a genius to know how Draco would take that, 'Here we go,' she braced herself, 'The ego has landed.'
His grin was painful even to look at, "Why, thank you," Draco smarmed, raising his glass and taking a long drink, "Glad you could finally admit it."
"Oh shut up will you?" Hermione said, shaking her head and noticing that her glass had mysteriously filled itself again while she hadn't been looking. She slid it across the table, not too carefully, "And you can take that back," she glared up at him, "I've had my fill for one day, thank you!"
Malfoy merely shrugged, and, to Hermione's amazement, he did, in fact, shut up. For a long time he just sat there, sipping his wine and looking out of the window. Hermione watched him for a while until, realising that she was staring, she looked away. Her options concerning what else to look at were rather limited however. The window was out of the question, she doubted if her head or her stomach could take looking at that view for any period of time. She couldn't look at Malfoy…so that left the door, or the tabletop, neither very promising prospects. She didn't even have a book to read, not that one would do her much good right now. She had tried to read while drunk before and it was not a good idea. She'd had to replace her copy of Hogwarts: A History after that day, yet more proof that her and alcohol didn't get on. It occurred to her to take a walk, maybe find someone else to talk to on the train, but the gentle rocking of the carriage put paid to that idea. Her knees were currently made of wine, so that was out. She checked her watch, the train was due to arrive in Sofia at eight, and it was still only five. 'Damn, three whole hours?' It was almost too much for her to bear. What was she going to do? She wasn't even tired, not having reached the sleepy stage of her intoxication yet. Hermione sighed aloud and rested her head on her hand.
"My thoughts precisely," Malfoy said, almost sullenly, still looking out the window.
"What?" she asked.
Malfoy turned to her, "I was just thinking aloud," he said, "this is going to be a really long trip if we carry on like this."
Hermione sighed again, "We are not 'carrying on' like anything…you were being a prat."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "I thought we had already established that I am a prat?"
This time, there was no humour in it for Hermione, "You are!"
Draco paused, "Like I said, I know," he took a sip of wine, "but that is no excuse for you to take it out on me."
"I…" Hermione's brain called a halt on her response, "What?" she frowned, "what am I taking out on you?"
"Anger…frustration…jealousy," he shrugged, "Take your pick," he pointed to his chest again, "But there's no need to give me a volley, just because Potty and the Weasel don't know how to take care of you."
Hermione shook her head, "What are you talking about?" Where had that come from? "Potty…" she shook herself and noticed the hint of a smile catch Malfoy's lips, "…I mean, Harry and Ron are my best friends…of course they look after me. I've lost count of the amount of times they've saved my life," 'and yours!' she added under her breath.
Malfoy scoffed into his wine, "Don't," he sniggered, seeming honestly amused, "Don't even pretend…That isn't what I meant and bloody well you know it!"
Hermione didn't know, "What…" was all she managed to say before that part of her brain that she had trained to translate boy language into English woke up and passed her a note, "Oh…" she blushed, and then drew herself up, "That is none of your business, Malfoy!" she shouted, praying that it would be an end to this subject once and for all.
"And if I decide to make it my business?" he asked.
Hermione couldn't believe the gall of him, "If you decide…"
"Look, Granger," Malfoy said, suddenly serious, "This isn't exactly a comfortable subject for me either, but here we are, so you may as well just deal with it."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "Give me one reason, Malfoy, just one reason why I should," she demanded.
Malfoy's response was a long, hard look at her. "Alright," he said in the end, "how about, because I already know, I knew before I got on this train."
There was no humour in his voice now, no joke, "What?" she asked, feeling a twinge of nervous fear pinch her brow.
Draco shook his head and set his glass down, "You seem surprised!"
"No," Hermione corrected him, "Not surprised…confused…" 'Worried!' she added to herself, "…what do you mean you knew?"
Malfoy sighed, he seemed reluctant to answer her, "Ok then, try this," his face blanked, "If you had done…anything like that with Potter, or Weasley, or anyone…I would have known about it in ten minutes," he paused, "or less."
"What?" she frowned, "You aren't making any sense here."
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, you don't really think I didn't know about it did you?"
"It?" Hermione stared at him, "What are you talking about?"
Malfoy frowned at her, then he shook his head and laughed humourlessly, "Granger," he said in total seriousness, "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don't know about the bet?"
Hermione blinked, "Bet? What bet?"
"Dear Heaven, she doesn't know," Draco cast his eyes up to heaven, "I should have expected as much I suppose," he shook his head. "Honestly, Granger," he said, "You spent seven years in that school, did you ever take your head out of a book?"
Hermione glared, that was an old line that had been used once too often a long time ago, "Malfoy," she growled, "I am going to count to three…no, I'm not even going to count to one…tell me…what BET?"
Malfoy picked up his glass again, "Well," he started, then paused to take a drink, Hermione had to fight the urge to slap the glass from his hand, "see, it was like this," he said, rather calmly, then paused and sighed, "you know…I'm not sure where to start…I really cant believe you don't know," he shook his head and waved down her retort, "Back in forth year…during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, a couple of the more enterprising seventh years in Slytherin decided to try and turn a fast galleon or two…they got together and…arranged a little gambling school…just harmless fun really."
"Harmless?" Hermione didn't like the sound of this.
"People bet on things, Granger, they always have and always will," he scowled slightly, "This was no different, just on a slightly larger scale. They took the usual bets of course…who'd win the challenges…who'd get killed and the like, but they didn't limit it there…they'd take any bet that came along…you name it, just so long as they got their percentage of the winnings," he shook his head and took another sip of wine, "Anyway, they wound up making quite a hefty profit by all accounts. Most of the bets were settled by the time they left at the end of fourth year…but not all of them…See, some bets that were made had no time limit…so they didn't expire," he tailed off.
Hermione stared at him, she had a nasty idea where this was going and was really starting to hope that she was wrong, "Go on…"
"Well…" he paused and sipped his wine, "At the time, there were all sorts of rumours flying about as to which one of the gruesome twosome was actually bang…" he paused when she shot him a glare that would melt steel, "was dating you," he recovered quickly, then shrugged, "to some, it was as good a bet as any."
Hermione frowned, trying to work out what he was saying. When she did, she shook her head and put on an uneasy smile, "You are so full of shit, Malfoy. Seriously," she forced a nervous laugh, praying this was leading to some childish prank, "is that the best you can come up with?"
"I didn't come up with anything," Malfoy's expression hardened for a moment, and then he seemed to wave it off, "I'm not even sure who did…it probably started as a joke, just a laugh between friends, to pass the time. The only thing was, and I haven't a clue as to why, that it became quite popular. It soon spread around the house…and beyond…tell the truth, it sort of got out of hand," he paused to take a drink of wine.
Hermione stared at him, unable or unwilling to believe what he was saying. She had endured her fair share of Slytherin pranks over the years, but this had to take the cake. They had actually been betting about her behind her back? "It got out of hand?" she said, not bothering to stay the anger in her voice, "How dare…"
Malfoy didn't seem to hear her, "As I was saying," he said to cut her off, "the pot for this particular bet built up to quite a size over the year, and, when no clear…winner came out on top, it just…sort of…kept going…" he trailed off.
"You kept it going?" Hermione felt her jaw tighten, "For how long?"
Draco shrugged, "Actually," he smiled again weakly, "I'm not sure it ever ended at all…right up until the day we left…"
The image of her last days at Hogwarts drifted into Hermione's mind. All the tearful goodbyes, the hugs and the kisses from boys she'd hardly known, the pile of farewell cards, all swearing that they'd never forget her and asking her to keep in touch. The sheer volume of them had been a surprise to her, but she had put it down to the emotional stress of the time. The end of the year…the end of seven years in school for most of them, the end of the war…the end of an era! But now?
Hermione was stunned, had all of that been really about… "Hold on," she managed to stammer, "Just…how many people were in on this…this bet?"
Draco laughed, "I'm not sure, to be honest," he took another sip of wine, "When it started, it was only a few, but then like I said…over the years…well, it kind of expanded…became a winner take all sort of thing…you know…the first one to…" he paused and looked at her suspiciously, "You aren't going to turn violent…are you?"
Hermione's heart pounded in her ears, 'Violent?' she thought, 'He tells me…that, and then wonders if I'll turn violent? Now why would I turn violent? The bastard! The total and complete bastard! Violence? No, it wont be violence…I'll skin the little shit alive! First him, and then the rest of them. I'll tear his head…' Her heart was so loud in her ears that she couldn't comprehend anything else. Her mind was racing in sudden rage. Hermione felt a sudden surge of fear…she didn't want to lose her temper…nothing good could result from that. 'No, no, Hermione,' she caught herself mid-rant, 'just…just settle down. There's no need to stoop to his level,' she soothed herself, 'There are…other ways to deal with this!' Hermione sat back and smiled at him through her anger, "No," she said, almost sweetly, "No…nothing like that."
Malfoy frowned at her, "Are you alright?" he asked nervously.
Hermione left the smile in place, "I'm fine."
"You aren't taking this they way I had expected."
"Is that so?" she asked, "And how did you expect me to react?"
Malfoy shrugged, "I…well I don't know really…just not like this. I thought that maybe you'd cry…or scream…or at least get mad…or something."
Hermione shook her head, "No, Malfoy," she said sweetly, "I'm not going to be the one crying…or screaming. I'll leave that to you."
"Me?" Malfoy asked, sounding surprised, "What do you mean? This isn't news to me. So I'm hardly likely to cry about it, now am I?"
"No?" she leaned forward, "Well, not yet in any case. Not for about," she paused and checked her watch again, "about…three hours or so…"
Malfoy frowned, "Three hours?"
"Yes," she said, "Three hours, until we arrive in Sofia…and…Viktor," she stressed the name, Malfoy's face blanched slightly, "picks us up. You do remember my friend Viktor, don't you?" she kept her smile from spreading as Malfoy squirmed slightly in his seat. It was clear to her that, if he wasn't sorry that he had mentioned this stupid bet, he knew full well that he soon would be. "It's been a while since I last saw him," she said, sounding absent minded, but a little giddy, "We'll have lots of catching up to do, him and I, when we arrive. He is always so interested in how I'm doing. I will, of course, be just delighted to tell him everything…and I'm sure he'll be just…thrilled to hear about this little wager of yours."
"Oh," Malfoy avoided her eyes, "yes…I'm…sure he will."
Something in his tone struck a chord, "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, but then, as the anger burned through the alcohol in her head, a dreadful realisation hit her, 'Fourth year?...Winner take all?' "No," she shook her head, her thoughts of revenge on Malfoy slipping away fast, "No…Viktor didn't…he wouldn't…" she paused, her lip trembling, "Would he?"
Malfoy didn't answer. Instead, he drained his glass quickly, and then reached out for the bottle. Hermione reached out and stopped him, "Did he?" she demanded, "Did Viktor bet on me?" Malfoy stared at her, his face had become utterly devoid of emotion. Finally, he nodded. Hermione's stomach churned, her mind went blank. This couldn't be true, it just couldn't. Still, something, something horrible stirred inside her and her mind recoiled in sudden terror at what it was. "How much?" she asked, feeling hollow inside all of a sudden.
"Does that really matter?" Malfoy asked angrily.
Hermione didn't even consider the question, "How much?" she demanded.
Malfoy paused, and then sighed, "Ten galleons…that was his buy in," he said.
Hermione slumped in her seat, ten galleons? Was that all she was worth? Ten lousy galleons? She tried not to believe it, she didn't want to believe it. Her mind turned and ran from the horrifying feeling inside her. Hermione searched Malfoy's face earnestly, searching for a lie, a trace of deceit, but there were none. Still, as the monster inside her head turned toward her she ran…she couldn't face it, she wouldn't. She didn't have to, this was Malfoy talking for Merlin's sake. Could she trust his word on anything, let alone this? He'd lie to her in a heartbeat, just to see her suffer…wouldn't he? He'd done it in the past often enough. Sure, it had been a while, he'd behaved himself lately, but did the ferret ever change its spots? Did ferrets even have spots? Hermione shook her head at the absurd thought.
Her doubts vanished, just as it always did, with a vision of a friendly face, Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the wisest and kindest man she knew, and he trusted Draco Malfoy. She didn't know why, she had never known why Malfoy had suddenly been on their side a year ago, but she hadn't needed to. They had needed any and all help they could get at the time, and, if Dumbledore trusted Draco, then Draco could be trusted, it was that simple.
But, if he wasn't lying, then that meant that Viktor had…How could he? He was supposed to care about her, wasn't he? That's what he said in his letters. That's what his constant invitations for her to come and visit him meant, wasn't it? The monster in her head started to gain, bringing doubt, terrible, cold doubt along with it. He could have… 'No!' she rejected the idea, but the doubt remained. Viktor had been nothing but good to her, the perfect gentlemen in all regards. Their time together had been a whirl of joy and happiness. She had missed him when they had parted, and he'd missed her too, that much was obvious from his letters. He had sent her a string of beautiful and no doubt expensive birthday and Christmas presents over the years, he was still sending her to this day. She was wearing one now. Hermione looked at the tiny gold bracelet on her wrist, a single gold chain, no decoration or ornament, simple and beautiful, perfect. She could still see the note:
'With Love, Viktor XXX'
Inside her head, Hermione stopped and turned to face her doubt. What if it was true? How could he? Her eyes came to rest on Malfoy again. He was staring at her intently, with no readable expression on his face, yet he seemed concerned somehow. That was a ridiculous thought, he wasn't concerned, not Draco Malfoy, not about her. She was just a Mudblood to him, there to be laughed at and put down and bet upon. Hermione wondered how much his stake had been. The thought was almost laughable, Malfoy wager money on a Mudblood? Never!
Still, he'd have had to so as to keep in with the crowd, wouldn't he? The crowd? She knew who they were. Great…just great! So, the whole of Hogwarts had been betting on her behind her back had they? People she knew? People she liked? People she thought liked her? And Viktor…him of all people? Why? What had she done? How could they? How could they treat her that way?
She started to feel the warmth of anger swell up inside her, pushing all else aside. Her fear, the thing she had run from, cowered before her anger. They couldn't…they shouldn't…they wouldn't get away with it. This went beyond wrong, this was degradation in its worst form. Was it just her, or were there other girls being bet on? Was it some sort of twisted competition for those…those…Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine a word, or even a sentence foul enough to describe them.
"I didn't bet on you," Draco said quietly, derailing Hermione's thoughts.
"What?" she snapped.
"I said," Draco repeated, "I didn't bet on you."
'Of course you did!' she thought, "Did I ask you that?"
"No," he stared into her eyes, "But I felt the need to say it anyway."
Hermione scoffed, "And you think I'm going to believe that?"
Draco refilled his wine glass while never taking his eyes from hers. He still seemed steady. Despite the wine, his gaze was clear, "It doesn't matter what you believe," he said calmly, "I didn't take the bet, not ever, despite ample opportunity…and motivation."
Something in his manner stalled the answer he was about to get. After a moment, Hermione sneered, "Yeah right!" she said.
"Yeah," Draco suddenly shouted, "right," he brought his fist down on the table hard, knocking Hermione's long forgotten glass over, "and I don't care if you believe me or not," he paused, and regained some of his composure, "It's a fact."
"Is that so?"
"It is," he shot back.
"Fine then," Hermione leaned forward, "but tell me this; If you weren't in on this bet, then how do you know so much about it?"
Draco leaned forward, his tone became petulant, as though he was explaining something to a stubborn child, "Because they kept a book about it…a written account of every wager."
Hermione all but laughed, "How handy of them," 'A book? They kept it in a book?' she swallowed, "And I suppose that they just happened to leave it lying around one day…"
"No," Malfoy shook his head, "but that hardly matters. It wasn't a secret," he shrugged, "not to me anyway. All I had to do was ask and they told me all about it. They even showed me the list, trying to get me to weigh in," he sneered in disgust, "As if…"
Hermione sat back and shook her head. She didn't believe him. If the bet was real, then he'd have been in on it…this was just a game he was playing with her. As her doubts faded, her anger settled into a cold lump in her gut. This conversation was over! "Enough," she shot at him, "I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense!"
"It isn't nonsense," Malfoy's voice rose in volume, "like I said, its fact, plain and simple," he leaned toward her again, "The bet is real, and so is the list…and let me tell you, it's a long list."
"Whatever," Hermione dismissed him, "I said I don't want to hear it."
"Well tough," he spat, "because I'm not done yet, here's another fact…and this one you really should believe," he took a breath, "So far as I know…and I know quite a bit mind you…I am the only male student of Hogwarts that knew you, and didn't take that bet."
Malfoy sat back and wiped at his mouth before turning to stare out the window. Hermione stared at him, her mind working on overdrive to process what he had just said: '…the only one that didn't bet on you…' Hermione's heart skipped a beat. The creature she had just reason into submission stirred once more. She stared at Malfoy again, hoping against hope to see a hint of deception somewhere in his profile.
"Malfoy," she called on seeing none of what she sought. He didn't answer. Trembling, she leant forward, "Draco," she called him again. He turned slowly to face her. Hermione took a deep breath, "Harry…Ron…" was all she said. She didn't have to say anymore. There was a twitch, the tiniest reaction from him as she said the names. "No!" she whispered before she felt the air leave her body. The world started to press in on her, cold and hard. Her mind reeled and her heart felt as though it had been ripped out through her chest. This wasn't happening…it wasn't real…it couldn't be. Not them…no way, never…not in a million years would they even consider… "NO!" she wailed at the top of her lungs.
Suddenly, she was on her feet. Panic, she had to escape. The carriage walls were closing in around her. Tears blinded her, robbing her of shapes and corners, leaving only patches of colour and light. She had to get out…she needed to get away. Malfoy's words had just ripped her in two. It wasn't true…it couldn't be true…he was lying…he had to be lying! Hermione couldn't bear to be near him for a moment longer. She moved, colliding with the table in a mad attempt to get out. In a flash, impossibly quickly, Malfoy was in front of her, barring her way.
"No," she screamed, shoving at him as hard as she could, "no…let me go…"
Malfoy spoke. Hermione heard sounds coming from the blurry shape that was closing in on her, but they made no sense. Tears poured from her eyes. It, a thing…this terrible thing was in her way and she needed to get past it. She didn't care how, she wasn't able to think about why, but she needed to get out…now!
Hermione balled her fists and punched out, hitting something that grunted, "No," she heard a voice scream hoarsely, "It isn't true…they didn't…NO!" Malfoy's hands took hold of her shoulders and shook her. Again, she heard his voice, but no words registered. She struggled and punched at him again with all her might, determined to get past him, even though she had no clue where she'd go after that. Malfoy released her and she stumbled backward. For a moment, Hermione was floating, unsure of where she was.
BAM!
Stars exploded before her eyes as the left hand side of her face flashed with pain. Her mind scattered, and then regrouped. It took her a second, but she figured out what had just happened. Malfoy had just slapped her. How dare he? She didn't have time to react, however, before Malfoy had hold of her arms again.
"Hermione!" he all but screamed in her face, "You need to calm down…please or you're going to pass out."
Hermione struggled to focus, blinking hard at the tears. Calm down? How could she calm down? Nothing made sense now…nothing. She couldn't calm down, she knew, because somewhere inside her head was an evil thing she couldn't face, a monster of a thought that wouldn't die. As it raced, her mind held onto one single thought…he was lying! "I don't believe you." Even as she said it, she knew it wasn't completely true. With every passing second, staring at the blurry shape of the boy before her, her mind was calming and the thing, the beast of the thing in her head was gaining. "I won't believe you!" she shouted, she had to stay ahead of it.
Malfoy laughed, he actually laughed, "Now there's a shock," he spat at her, "How could you? Why would you? How could you believe that I would be telling you the truth?"
He released her. Hermione felt her breathing start to slow. The beast almost had her now. Its fingers of doubt were almost able to take hold of her. There was something about Malfoy's tale that made a nasty kind of sense. 'No!' She steeled her gaze, "Are you telling me the truth?"
Malfoy scoffed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then he glared at her and jabbed his fist out, pointing over her shoulder, "Take a look in my bag," he said harshly, "You'll find a gold pendant, it's a portkey, set to take the user straight to Hogwarts from wherever they are…use it!" he ordered, stepping closer to her, "Use it now, go to Hogwarts…go to the third floor, west corridor, find the statue of Albrecht the Insane," he paused, "You know, the big bronze one?" Hermione pictured the statue, she nodded, "He's got three warts on his cheek, tap the middle one twice with your wand and say the password: 'Bacchus!' The plinth at the bottom of the statue will pop open. Inside," he paused again, finally lowering his arm, "inside you'll find the list, names, dates and amounts…a permanent record of all the names and signatures of everyone who made the bet…signed and magically sealed."
Hermione frowned, "Its still there?"
Draco nodded, "It's tied to the statue," he said, "Along with the bag of gold for the winner, and it will remain there until there is a winner."
Malfoy leaned round Hermione to pick up his glass again, "Go on," he paused to drain it off, "Read it for yourself, count the gold, see just how much your friends valued you."
Draco stared down at her. Hermione's mind lurched, the beast caught her. Doubt turned to realisation, to belief. What she had just heard, the horror of it, was the truth. She could see it reflected in his eyes so clearly that it startled her. A deep shiver started at her feet and made its way rapidly upward. Her eyes started to well up again, she sniffed hard and tilted her head back slightly to keep the tears in. "Why?" she asked the open air, then she looked at Draco again, "Why are you telling me this? Why…why now? Why you? Why here?"
"Why?" Draco echoed her question, "Because you needed to know, because you deserved to know."
"I needed…I deserved to know a long time ago…"
"Yes," he interrupted her, "You did, but I…" he stalled, "but…it…was never my place to tell you," he laughed, "It still isn't…is it? You think I wanted to be the one to tell you? You think I am enjoying this?" he scoffed and ground his jaw, "But where are they? Hrm? Where are your friends now? They are the ones that should be standing here…now…telling you this, admitting what they've done. They are the ones that are supposed to be your friends. They are the ones that are supposed to care about you. Them…not me," he roared, "them!" Draco lowered his head to his chest. He took a deep breath and sniffed, "Gutless cowards!" he whispered.
"Cowards?" Hermione's years of instinct kicked in, "Don't call them cowards," she yelled, "You of all people have no right to call them cowards, you…"
"What?" Draco's head snapped up as he interrupted her, "What am I? A git? A prat?" he roared, "We have already discussed that, remember, and decided that that is precisely what I am," he moved toward her, closing the tiny distance between them even further, "I am a git…Hermione…and a prat, and a hell of a lot besides. I know exactly what I am, and I have accepted it. There is any number of words that can be used to accurately describe me, and most aren't pleasant. One thing I am not, however, is the kind of person that would take a bet, the only outcome of which would be to humiliate and degrade someone I am supposed to care about," he paused and lowered his head toward her, "There is any number of words to describe that kind of person too, but I think coward sums them up pretty nicely," he was still coming toward her, inch by inch getting closer. Hermione had the urge to step back, but she was already pressed into the edge of the table and had nowhere to go, "Your so called friends are cowards, Hermione, there is no other word to describe them. They are cowards, just like Krum and all the others who signed their name in that book."
"Draco…"
"I am not a coward, Hermione," he said, staring at her, "If I were, I wouldn't have come here today and told you the truth. If I were, I wouldn't do this…"
Out of reflex, Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she never managed to utter a sound before Draco pressed his mouth over hers. He kissed her hard, pressing forward with his full weight and pinning her to the table almost painfully. His tongue pressed out and invaded her mouth, pushing in and seeking out every corner it could find. Hermione had never been kissed like this before, with such force and passion. It overwhelmed her. Sheer, undiluted astonishment left her mind blank. Her eyes fluttered closed as Draco's hands moved up to take hold of her head. He held her firmly and deepened the kiss further. The kiss lasted for what felt like an age. Draco's tongue started to twist and twirl around hers, and she felt herself responding to him automatically. Hermione felt as though her head was spinning, she felt dizzy and she couldn't breathe. Just when she thought she was going to pass out, Draco broke the kiss and released her.
He stepped back, Hermione found herself sitting on the table. It was a good thing that she was, otherwise she most certainly wouldn't have been able to remain upright. She sat there, stunned, panting for air, unable to speak, all she could do was stare at him.
Draco was, to her surprise, out of breath too. She could clearly see his chest rise and fall as he sucked down great lungfulls of air. Then his gaze seemed to falter and he looked away. He lifted his arm and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve, then spun on his heel and vanished out of the door without a word.
For a long time, Hermione stared at the door, trying to rationalise what had just happened. She wasn't able to even begin to process what he had told her…that was too horrible for words. What he had done to her after that…that wouldn't even register as an event in her world right now. She found herself instead, fixating on his motives. Why he had told her? Why him? Why now? The bet…if it was real…was long over. She hadn't known about it, or even suspected. There was no reason for him to believe that she ever would have found out, and even if she had, years down the line, learned of it, he wasn't a part of it. If she was to accept his words at face value, then he hadn't been in on the bet, so it wasn't like he was trying to appease his conscience…assuming he had one to begin with. Had he done it just to hurt her? That would certainly fit with the Malfoy she knew…she could think of nothing he would like more than to rub her nose in it. But, that didn't make sense either, if he wanted to hurt her, why hadn't he done it years ago when they were still in school?
It didn't make sense…none of it did. Hermione heard Draco's words repeating over and over in her head… 'You deserved to know…' He'd said the words, and he'd meant them…Hermione was certain of that from the look in his eyes just before he'd…he'd kissed her. She couldn't believe that he had done that either. In fact, nothing that he'd done on this trip had made one bit of sense. What was with him? Why had he…Where had he gone off to? Why wasn't he here to explain himself?
She needed answers. Was the bet real? Had her friends betrayed her? She looked at Malfoy's bag. Somewhere in there was a means to find the answers, a portkey to Hogwarts. She could take it and get her answers in seconds. Of course, that action would lead to other problems. She'd have to explain her presence, there was no way she could portal into the school unnoticed. Dumbledore would be curious to say the least…what could she say? How could she explain abandoning her assignment before it had even begun? What if she told him, explained everything, and then it wasn't real? She'd look like an idiot, to say the least.
Her mind clicked with a sudden realisation. There was something she had missed. If Malfoy had been joking around or lying…why would he have brought a portkey along with him on this trip? For that matter, other than him saying it, how did she know that there was a portkey to begin with? It could just be another lie thrown in to make the rest seem believable. She smiled, realising the further truth of it, if there was no portkey, then he was lying…about all of it. If there was one however…
Hermione stood up and, wobbling just a little, she leaned over the table and opened the flap of the bag. Sure enough, there was a pendant there…Malfoy wasn't bluffing. Of course, there was no way to tell if it was actually a portkey without activating it, and doing that would send her, she presumed, to Hogwarts…a decision she hadn't made yet. Going to Hogwarts, regardless of what she would find there, would end her current mission, and maybe reduce her usefulness to Dumbledore…something that she did not want. The portkey, if it was one, would have to wait, at least for a while. There were other ways to get her answers, and they were closer to hand.
With only the slightest stumble, she made her way to the door. Once there, she stopped, unable to move. Her mind pictured finding Malfoy and beating some sense out of him by any means necessary, but was that a good idea right now? Did she really want answers? Would they help in any way? Would she feel any better knowing for certain that her friends had…she swallowed. Could the facts, if she got them, make her feel worse? She turned around and walked back to her seat. She couldn't imagine how this could possibly get worse. Viktor…Harry…Ron…had they all seen her as some sort of trophy? A prize to be won?
Hermione scooted into the corner and pulled her legs up. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head on them. Then she cried…she didn't want to, but she couldn't help it. She kept looking at the bracelet Viktor had given her and trying to make herself not believe that he could have done that to her. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to believe that Malfoy had been wrong, or that he'd been making the whole thing up, she couldn't shake the monster of the truth in her mind. It was real…all of it. It had happened just as he had said.
So she cried, and she sobbed, and she tried to think about anything else, but her mind kept running her in circles. In the end she slept, rocked to unconsciousness by the gentle sway of the train. Her dream was empty and painful, faces kept washing up before her out of the void, people she cared about, people she thought she knew, taunting her, laughing at her…betraying her.
" Sofia…the stop is Sofia!" a distant voice disturbed her. Hermione looked up to see the conductor passing by the doorway, calling out his message over and over in multiple languages, " Sofia next stop…the end of the line!"
Hermione blinked and wiped at her eyes. Movement in the periphery of her vision caught her attention. She turned her head to see Draco packing his belongings back into his bag. She stared at him, watching him pack his things away as though nothing had happened.
"You'd better get your things," he said, casting a glance out the window, "We're nearly there…don't want to keep Krum waiting."
Hermione stared at him, and then looked out the window. The train was moving slower now as it neared its destination. The peaceful countryside had been replaced by a sprawling, grey city, choked in late evening haze. Draco held the last wine bottle up to the light and examined the contents for a moment before stuffing it into his bag and sealing the straps. Hermione watched him in disbelief. Was he really going to pretend that nothing had happened?
It certainly seemed so. There he sat, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world as he watched the buildings flash past. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again. What would she say? What could she say? Nothing came to mind, at least, nothing that she though she was capable of saying. So they sat there, neither looking at the other, neither speaking until, at last, the train shuddered to a stop.
"Do you need help with your bags?" Draco asked her, breaking the heavy silence.
Hermione looked up at the bags in the overhead rack. There were a lot of them, and she remembered how heavy they had been, "Thanks," she said quietly.
Draco stood and started to pull the bags from the rack. He didn't speak, didn't even look at her as he worked. Hermione watched him, and found a strange doubt settle over her. Had it happened? Had it been real? Or was it just a dream? The result of her overactive mind fuelled by alcohol. Had she…was it possible that she had dreamt the whole thing?
Draco pulled the last of the bags down. Hermione stood up and reached out to pick up one of the smaller ones. He had had the same idea, it seemed. For a moment, their hands touched one another before he pulled his away and grabbed a different parcel. Hermione frowned and stared at him. He was looking at her now. She tried to read his face, but couldn't.
A tapping sound filled the carriage. Draco's head spun to the window and, for a moment, his eyes flashed with emotion. Hermione turned. Viktor was standing on the platform, tapping the window and grinning in at them…at her. Hermione didn't smile back. Instead she turned to Draco. He just grabbed the rest of the bags and hauled them noisily out of the carriage.
Viktor tapped again. Hermione turned and waved at him out of reflex. Had it been a dream? Was it real? Was Draco…did Draco…why had he kissed her? Had he kissed her? Had Viktor really made that bet?
Questions, questions all around her, and no answer in sight. Hermione stared out at Viktor and narrowed her eyes. She would find out, she promised herself, she would find out!
AN: Bday ficcie for Raffy from DHr Yahoo groups – hope you like it babe, even though there ain't no smut :P
WANT MORE? Then view my profile and read the continuation, Covenant of the Serpent...enjoy!