Chapter Eight
Neville and Angelina had come running when they heard the shouting, and it was a good thing they had, too. There was no way Ginny and Hermione could have pulled the brawling men away from each other, strong as they were.
The rage that had been building for fifteen years had finally been unleashed in a series of blows that left them both bloody and bruised.
When Neville had finally pulled them away from each other, Harry's left eye was already purpled and bruising, and Draco's lower lip had been busted wide open. Hermione simply stood above them, her hands hanging limply at her sides, at a total loss as to what to say or do next. Neville and Angelina helped Harry up off of the floor, but Draco made no move to get up.
He sat on the floor, grinning madly as he swiped at his bloody lip.
"Come on Hermione, we should go." Ginny, still shocked at what had just transpired, tugged on the other girl's arm until they were safely away from Draco's room.
"I just can't believe that Harry did that!" Hermione was shaking her head as Ginny led her into her room and shut the door behind them.
"You can't? Then you don't know him nearly as well as you think you do." Hermione shot her a wary glance before falling back onto the bed.
"What am I supposed to do?" she wailed. "How can I teach them anything if we're constantly having to pry them off of each other?"
"You're just going to have to put your foot down, is all," Ginny said, frowning. If Hermione was going to fall apart at the first sign of conflict, then perhaps she wasn't ready to be in the position she was in.
Hermione sat up on the bed, her eyes wide. "Do you think either of them needs medical attention?"
"I think Harry's black eye will heal all right, but Malfoy's lip might need some attention." She rubbed her eyes then, and Hermione could tell she was tired. She needed an excuse to get Ginny out of her room, and sleep was the perfect pretext.
"You'd better get to bed - you have no idea how much work we have to do tomorrow."
"Knowing you, I'm sure I don't." She turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "Don't worry - I'm sure you'll think of some way to get them to leave each other alone." She smiled weakly and shut the door behind her.
"If I can't, Ron will," she murmured quietly to the closed door. She reclined on her bed and closed her eyes, but images of Malfoy's bloody lip and Harry's black eye plagued her. What was she going to do if they insisted on fighting every chance they got? She wasn't sure she could handle it.
Neville sat near the hearth, wrapping ice cubes in a soft, white cloth. When he had finished, he handed it to Harry, who pressed it gently to his purpling eye. He groaned and reclined in the chair he occupied, while Neville shook his head.
"Really, I don't know how anyone can put the two of you together and expect you not to fight," Neville commented, rising and stoking the fire.
"Yes, but who'd have thought that they'd be fighting over Ginny?" Angelina asked, her cheeks rosy from the heat in the room. Harry narrowed his good eye at her.
"We weren't fighting over Gin," he denied. "Malfoy has absolutely no interest in her, so don't be fooled into thinking that."
"He might have interest in her if he thinks you do," Neville said quietly. Harry turned to look at him.
"And who says I do?"
"Not me," Neville replied, turning back to the fire to hide a grin. Angelina exhaled loudly.
"No need to go getting so upset about it, Harry," she chastised. "We all know what a git Malfoy is, so you shouldn't let him provoke you, no matter what it's over."
"I'll remind you that you said that when you're fighting with him," Harry promised, frowning.
Ginny appeared in the doorway, momentarily distracting Harry from his line of thought. He sat up, letting the ice pack fall from his face, and Ginny winced.
"That looks bloody awful," she remarked, pulling a face. Harry looked stung, but only for a moment.
"Is Hermione very angry?" he asked, his eyes following her closely as she moved towards the hearth where Neville stood. She stuck her hands out to warm them.
"No, I wouldn't say she's angry," Ginny said, shaking her head. "I'd say she's more frustrated and hurt than angry." Harry sighed.
"I suppose she's blaming me, is she?"
"Well, she wouldn't exactly be wrong if she did, would she?" Harry bristled at her.
"And just what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"It means just what it sounds like it means, Harry," Ginny said, turning to face him. Her hands found purchase on her hips as she spoke. "You're not fooling anyone here. As much as we all love you – and we do, make no mistake about that – we all know about your temper and your lack of control over it."
Harry stood up and glared at her. "You don't know anything about me anymore, so don't pretend that you do!"
"How can we not know about you, when you're constantly being splattered across the front page of any newspaper or magazine that happens to be around you when you pitch one of your fits?" she demanded, her expression hardening.
"Pitch one of my fits?" Harry echoed incredulously. Neville and Angelina exchanged wary glances.
"I think I'm going to go to bed now," Angelina said softly, backing out of the room slowly. Neville hurried to her side.
"I'm right behind you."
"How dare you talk to me like that!" Harry snapped, his cheeks scarlet.
"Well, someone's got to! Merlin knows that you ignore it, but I'm telling you right now, Harry, I'm not going to stand for any outbursts from you while I'm here!"
Harry simply stared at her, unable to find his voice. Her chest was heaving, her eyes were sparkling, and her hair was fairly crackling with electricity. She looked like a madwoman; like an escapee from St. Mungo's.
None of his conquests had ever evoked the strange feeling that was beginning to burn in the pit of his stomach. It was like hunger; the most incredibly hungry feeling he'd ever had. It was primitive, he thought – and with it, it brought the same sort of rush he experienced when he got angry. The rush that was addictive, and kept him getting angry, because the angrier he got, the more of a rush he got.
It was curious, and it was entirely worth exploring further.
Hermione waited until she was certain everyone had gone to sleep before leaping out of bed. The fight would be recorded in her official log, of course; but that wouldn't help her now. She had to talk to someone.
She grabbed her cloak (the hallways were frightfully chilly) before descending the hallway to the common area - the only room that hadn't been charmed to death, and where she could indulge her fretting to her heart's content. If she was careful enough, the recruits would never know anything about her late night stroll. She had forbidden them to use magic, and now, here she was, breaking her own rule. She hated that.
She had been right to bring her cloak, she thought, as she drew it more tightly around her shoulders. She shivered as the breeze splashed at her bare legs. At least, she told herself that that was what was making her shiver. The whole place was just creepy. She walked along the gray hallway, taking extra care not to let her steps echo against the decaying stone, and imagined the conversation that was about to take place.
He couldn't possible be angry with her, could he? Ron, of all people, knew the repercussions of putting together two people who loathed one another as much as Harry and Malfoy did - for any amount of time. Granted, she hadn't expected the fighting to occur so soon after their arrival, but that mattered little after the fact. No, she decided as she shut the door to the common area behind her, he couldn't be angry with her. What could she have done to prevent Harry's temper? Or Malfoy's provocations?
She glanced behind her several times before finally pulling the small pouch from her pocket and extracting some of the powder.
Will he be home, or at the office? She knew it was after midnight, but Ron had spent many a night hunched over his desk at this late hour. Nodding, she threw some of the powder into the fire and said in as loud a voice as she dared:
"Ministry of Magic. Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Ron Weasley's office."
She took a deep breath, and stuck her head into the bright emerald green flames that had sprung to life. Almost immediately she felt the wind being sucked out of her lungs as a whirlwind of smoky images flew past her. She righted herself, grimacing against the dirt she imagined was caked to her head, and craned her neck to see if Ron was at his desk.
Of bloody course.
"Hello, kitten," Pansy said in the ultra sweet tone that always made Hermione want to gag. Her legs were propped up on Ron's messy desk and crossed at the ankle. From her position in the fire, Hermione could see the woman's knickers. Trollop!
"Where is he?"
"Problems already? Tsk, tsk."
"I don't have time for your stupid games, Pansy. Where is he?" Pansy smiled.
"Do you know, now that I've got a good view of it, I'd say that your head is rather on the large side." She pretended to squint at Hermione, then grinned and clasped her hands behind her head.
"I could say the same thing about your knickers, you tart! Now where is he?" Pansy looked slightly embarrassed as she eased her feet back onto the floor.
"I was under the impression that you weren't to have any contact with anyone once you set off for- where was it again?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's entirely none of your business where we are, and I'll have contact with anyone I choose. And if you don't tell me where he is, I'll wake up half the department and let them know there's an intruder in this office!"
"You really are zero fun, Granger."
"And you really are a royal pain in my arse, Parkinson!"
"What's the matter? Wonder Boy not performing up to snuff? Or is it the lush who's causing problems?"
"I realize this is all quite amusing for you, but for the love of Merlin, where is Ron?"
"Calm yourself, or that bushy head of yours might just explode. Now-" She flipped her hair over her shoulder and examined her fingernails. "You were put in charge, were you not?"
If it weren't for the fact that her body was thousands of miles away, Hermione was sure she would have taken a leaf out of Harry's book and hauled off on the bint.
"Yes." Snap!
"So, what could be of such dire importance that you would need to bother my boss about it?"
Hermione bit her lip. A saucy Pansy, Hermione could handle. A Pansy who was right was an entirely different story.
"Just tell Ron to get in touch when he can."
"Absolutely."
Pansy waited until Hermione' head had disappeared and the green flames has returned to their normal tinges of red and orange, and then she grinned. "Whenever I can get around to remembering it, that is."
"What's going on?" Ron asked as he strode into the room. Pansy straightened up in her chair and shot him a saccharine-sweet smile. "Who were you just talking to?"
"Just my Mum," Pansy said, the lie rolling smoothly off of her tongue. "She wanted to check on her baby."
Ron arched a strawberry-colored eyebrow at her. "You must be close to her – you two sure talk a lot."
"Precious," she purred. "You have no idea."
When Ginny opened her eyes, she was greeted with total darkness. She blinked in confusion, wondering what had awoken her to begin with. She lay there in the dark, listening intently to the sounds of the room. A Muggle clock was ticking, and it sounded like somewhere water was dripping. Other than that, she heard nothing. She closed her eyes and just as she was drifting back to sleep, a loud noise sounded, startling her so badly that she tumbled out of her bed.
"What in Merlin's name…?" she wondered out loud, gently rubbing her skinned elbow. The concrete floor of the cell – er, room – didn't lend well to clumsiness. She'd definitely have to ask Hermione if they could charm carpet or something to appear in her room.
She changed out of her pyjamas and into a pair of worn jeans, and then pulled an old sweatshirt over her head. She brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and then stumbled out into the hallway, feeling her way down to the common area.
When she arrived, there was a fire burning high and hot in the hearth, and Hermione and Angelina were the only other people in the room. Angelina looked entirely put-out, while Hermione looked as fresh as a daisy.
Hermione raised her wand and moved it in a circle, whispering something that Ginny couldn't hear. The alarm sounded again, and Ginny covered her ears.
"Do you have to do that?" she demanded. Hermione gave her an enigmatic look and shrugged.
"I suppose I don't have to, but after this I'd wager that they'll be up when I've told them to be." Despite her tired, agitated state, Angelina snorted with laughter. Ginny gave up and shot a smile at both of them.
Moments later, Harry and Neville stumbled out into the open space. Angelina had to bite back a giggle; Ginny didn't bother hiding hers. Harry's viridian eyes were cloudy behind his haphazardly worn glasses, and his black hair was sticking straight up. Neville, on the other hand, looked well groomed – except for the puffiness around his eyes.
"Four down, one to go," Hermione muttered, slipping her wand back inside of her thick cloak. "You guys, stay put. I'll be right back – I'm going to go and give his royal highness his morning wake-up call." She turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway.
When she reached Draco's room, she knocked loudly, pounding her fist against the door. There was no answer. She pulled her wand out and held it at the ready. "Malfoy, you'd better open this door, or I'm going to come in and get you."
No answer.
Oh, for Merlin's sake! She huffed loudly, turned the doorknob, and realized with sudden and frightening certainty that she was in no way prepared to witness the scene that lay in front of her.
Draco Malfoy was sleeping soundly on the narrow cot, completely naked.
"Oh, my God." She averted her eyes and turned her back to him before waving the wand overhead again. The alarm sounded for the fourth time that morning, and Draco opened his eyes lazily.
"Just couldn't wait to get me naked and alone, could you, Granger?" he drawled, his voice full of distaste.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Just get up, we've got a lot to do," she said over her shoulder, missing the smirk that had appeared on Draco's face.
"It's far too early to function. Besides-" He yawned loudly and stretched his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing Hermione. "I can't even move without coffee."
"I would like to remind you that our little deal is contingent on you performing up to the standards I set forth in that parchment I gave you. No work, no fancy house and no money, Draco." Her back was still turned, but the image of his pale, thin body sprawled on the bed had burned itself into her memory, and she hated the blush that began to creep up her neck.
"Standards?" he asked lazily, rising from the bed as slowly as humanly possible. "I don't recall seeing any standards."
"Perhaps if you'd actually read the contract, you might have," she answered back waspishly.
"Contract?" he asked, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. "I never signed any contract, Mudblood."
"Insubordination, Malfoy," she snapped. "You didn't have to sign it; the contract was enabled the moment you let us mark you. You're a part of the team now, and in order for you to get what you want, you have to give me what I want."
"Why, you dirty, double-crossing little-" Hermione turned and smiled wickedly, forcing herself to ignore his naked state.
"I know," she said, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Very Slytherin of me, wasn't it? And how very Gryffindor of you, to just ignore what I'd given you, and trust what it said."
Their eyes were locked and neither could tell if the other was ready to pounce or not, but they were both red faced when the door creaked open and Ginny's head appeared. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw Draco standing defiantly naked and Hermione's hands placed firmly on her hips.
"What the-"
"You see, you smarmy bastard? You can continue with your jilted princely attitude, walk around naked, hate everyone, and nobody cares!" Hermione nodded toward Ginny, who made a funny sound and gave Hermione a look that clearly said she most certainly did care if people walked around naked.
"I just –" Ginny took a deep breath and swallowed. "I just came to check on you, but now that I see that you're both all right-" her voice died and she stared openly at Malfoy, whose cheeks began to flush slightly pink.
"We're fine, Ginny," Hermione said, turning to the redhead. Ginny's eyes flew up to meet Hermione's.
"I wasn't-"
Hermione held her hand up. "I don't care if you were or not. Just go back and wait for us – we'll be out momentarily."
Ginny continued to stare at Hermione, but the older girl arched her eyebrow. Finally, after a few tense seconds, she shrugged her shoulders and left the room. Hermione turned back to Malfoy.
"We can help each other, you know. It doesn't have to be like this."
"Like what?"
"Behaving as though the world hasn't turned upside down since we were in school and had full rights to hate one another."
"I will always hate you, Granger. You and Potter and the rest of the bloody world that loves him!"
"If you were as smart as you pretend to be, you'd realize that this is your opportunity to change people's minds about you - and what you're capable of accomplishing. I can't imagine wallowing in my dead father's memory for the rest of my life. Especially considering how his life ended."
"Never mention my father again, and I'll cooperate," he hissed, taking one long stride toward her. "But if you ever mention him again - or any other member of my family, for that matter - I'll kill you myself."
"Don't threaten me," she warned, her eyes narrowing to slits. "I don't take well to threats. In my world – and believe me, Malfoy, you are in my world, now – when you want things, you don't demand. You ask. I don't care how dangerous you think you are; for all intents and purposes, as of right now, consider yourself neutered."
"Neutered?" he laughed harshly. "If it weren't for the fact that I'm extremely pissed off, I might find that amusing. I ask for nothing, you stupid bint. I take what I want, when I want it."
"Funny," she commented, her finger tapping her chin. "I suppose you didn't actually want your home and money back, then, did you? Since you didn't just take them back, I mean."
"You'd shut your bloody mouth, if you knew what was good for you," he threatened.
"And you'd shut yours, if you knew what was good for you," she hissed. "I am tired of your games, Malfoy, and I refuse to play them. Like it or not, you're here. You've agreed to a contract, and your arse is mine for as long as I need it, so get your pants on, and get out there with the rest of the recruits!" Without waiting for an answer, and without thinking twice about what she'd just said, Hermione stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind her.
Hermione made her way down the hallway and back into the common area, where Harry had fallen asleep on the couch. Ginny was standing near the fire, her cheeks rosy from the heat, and Neville and Angelina were sitting on the floor, talking quietly.
"So?" Ginny asked, turning to her friend. "Is he fully clothed yet?" Neville and Angelina's quiet whispers stopped, and they both turned full attention to Hermione.
"Fully clothed?" Angelina repeated uncertainly.
"You don't want to know," Hermione reassured her, shaking her head. "He'll be out in a minute. Who wants to wake Harry up?"
After a moment of dead silence, Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll do it." She moved towards the couch, and then reached down to shake Harry gently. "Wake up, you lazy sod."
"That's offensive," he muttered, cracking open the eye that wasn't bruised. Ginny gave him a lopsided grin.
"You'll live, I'm sure. It's time to get up."
"Is the bastard out here yet?"
"Nope, but Hermione assures me that he's coming."
"Wake me when he gets here." He closed his eye again. Ginny frowned at him.
"You know," she said, turning to look at Hermione. "You haven't really seen everything there is to see, until you've seen Draco Malfoy naked." She didn't see Harry's eyes flying wide open as she made her way towards Hermione, who was looking both amused and extremely embarrassed.
"While disturbing, this is true," Hermione conceded calmly. Harry sat up and stared at the pair of women.
"I mean, I always wondered what all the talk was about, but now I suppose I've seen for myself, haven't I?"
"Indeed."
"You're both taking the mickey out of me," Harry declared finally, standing up. Ginny turned towards him, as though surprised that he was awake.
"Are we?" she asked casually. It was that moment that Draco chose to enter the room, swaggering in as though he owned the entire building and everything in it. Harry glared at him. "Malfoy, Good morning," Ginny purred.
Hermione relished the look of surprise that Malfoy was wearing as Ginny smiled at him.
"Thank you for the little show you gave us this morning," she began. "Could you please tell Harry that I'm not making it up?"
The feral grin that split Malfoy's face made Hermione both strangely excited and sick. "Why, of course, Weasley. Anything for you – especially after what we shared last night." Hermione bit her lip at Ginny's expression. So this is how it begins. One begins the game, and the other joins in unexpectedly.
"Weasley and Granger decided this morning that they wanted a little peep show – so I obliged them."
Harry lunged forward. "Why you dirty son of a-"
"Hey!" Neville shouted, jumping in front of Harry. "Haven't we had just about enough of this already?"
Draco and Harry were glaring intently at each other. Hermione figured that this was as good a time as any to get them working, and perhaps use their energy to her advantage.