Draco was once again pouring himself into his studies. After Hermione's debut at the ball, there'd been so many inquiring questions about her, that he'd been afraid to go outside. And his plans… his plans were the most important part. He needed to work on those, he did, really, but somehow they just kept… slipping away. Draco beat his head on his desk, spreading parchment and empty ink bottles flying about. "What am I missing?" He asked himself, repeatedly. There was something, something that would win this for him… and he just couldn't reach it.
Hermione watched from the windowsill. He never let her see what he was working on, but she'd taken to sitting in the comfortable bench that'd been built into the window when the weather was acting up. Her and Draco had been on better terms since the night of the ball, but neither of them had made a move for more of what had happened. He'd seemed overly reserved and gentlemen like after that, turning away when she dressed, not insisting on needing the bathroom when she was showering. Hermione didn't know what to take it as. Was he mad? If so, at himself, or her? She didn't know, and she didn't ask. That was how it'd been lately. "What're you whining about now, Malfoy?" He'd been stressed, and she knew that.
But she also knew he was a lot like a blister. He would just continue to hurt and puss and hurt more until he was finally drained. The easiest way to do that was with a needle. The best needle was a blow up. So, she'd provoke him.
"I'm not whining, Granger." There was a snarl in his voice as he stood up, his chair flying back from him as he moved to pace in front of the desk. He looked like a caged animal. Hermione's eyes softened a bit at that thought.
"Yes you are, Malfoy." She looked back down to the book she was reading, seemingly indifferent to the items he'd begun throwing around.
"Whining! This isn't whining, Granger." A book flew across the room, hitting the cabinet with a dull thud. "I need help, I need help, damn it all to hell, I need HELP!" A half empty well of ink hit the wall, ink sliding down in a pattern resembling blood spatter. Hermione watched it blankly as he raged around the room. "But who could I trust? Killing the bastard isn't the hard part, it's establishing the power afterwards. If it was just me, the rest of them will eat me alive. I need more wizards! I need more power behind it all!" He slammed his palms down onto the desk, causing Hermione to jump. He was staring up at her, the bangs of his platinum hair falling over his eyes delicately. He needed it trimmed, she noted. Grey-blue eyes watched her intently, savagely.
"Blaise. Use Blaise."
Draco gaped at her, colour rising to his cheeks. He hadn't thought of Blaise. And even if he had, would he be willing to let Blaise be around Hermione so often? He didn't know enough of what she thought of him. Their one time encounter had given him what he wanted in some ways, but now he wanted more. He wouldn't take it, of course. He didn't want anything that had to be forced. What he wanted had to be willingly given, and Draco wouldn't dream of entertaining those kind of thoughts right now. Not when it was likely that he'd come home to find her dead. He was careful with his plans, oh so careful. But if something slipped… He dreaded coming home each day, dreaded searching the house for her. Dreaded checking to see if she was breathing when she was in bed and he came home late.
He bit his lip. Blaise was a strong wizard. He'd be a good ally, not to mention that he had some good influences. "He wouldn't do it. Blaise lives for the game. I'm not playing games." Not anymore, at least, he added to himself silently.
"Play a game, then. Make him want to play your game." She smiled at him faintly, an unsure smile, so cautious. "Everything is a game, Malfoy. Just give him a playing piece and some rules. He'll play."
She had a point. Blaise was notorious for his love of 'the game.' Any game. He liked chances, he liked betting. He liked risking everything. And he did, often. Draco smoothed his hair gently, pushing the loose strands behind his ears. "Let the game begin," he whispered, his eyes staring blankly at his desk.
Blaise had arranged a night of betting, just for Draco. It was to be a luxurious evening, so Hermione attended. The 'men' of the evening played at a central table in Blaise's home, a lovely home, one so lush and exotic, Hermione spent the greater part of the evening wandering through the hallways, looking at the beautifully decorated rooms. Rooms that reminded her of sunny beaches, faraway places. She breathed deeply, taking it all in. There was more sense of freedom in these rooms than she'd had in ages.
Freedom, she thought to herself sadly as she fingered a gauze curtain that hung from a four poster bed. The room she'd paused in was one that reminded her of what she thought Africa must be like. The room was composed of warm tones, plush furniture, and sensual statues.
"This is one of my favorites, as well." Blaise's voice startled her as she turned to face him, her stuttering voice caught in her throat. "You've good taste, Hermione." She hated how his voice sounded, how he said her name, made it feel so… perfect. It was like a caress in a single word. It made her heart race. He made her heart race.
"Done playing cards?" She had to think of something to talk about, before she did something completely silly.
"Oh, no. We're just taking a break." He leaned against the doorway, preening his nails, then glancing up at her, dark chocolate eyes stripping her, twinkling at her. She could feel herself blushing. He looked so at home in this room. His olive skin, his dangerous eyes, his… intentions. He felt so beast-like to her in some ways. While her thoughts spun in her head, he commented quietly. "The last round is on us, and Draco's the only other in. You may want to watch. It'll be… interesting." There was a quiet smile in his words. She knew that without even looking up. Why did she feel like a cornered animal around him?
She nodded, accepting his offer. As they walked down to the main area, silent, she wondered. Had Draco caught his interest? What would catch his interest? He had to play the game, if Draco wanted to win. Blaise was Draco's boardwalk.
Blaise sat down at the table, nodding a slight acknowledgement to Draco, who swirled the wine in his cup around.
The game begun.
Hermione didn't know how it worked, only that it was somewhat similar to muggle poker, which Harry had tried to teach her, once upon a time. She'd gotten mad at the cards that hadn't moved or tried to help her at all. She liked wizard card games much more. This game had a point system though, and was played with many people through the rounds. Eliminations came and went, until only one was left.
The score was 17 to 18. Blaise was winning. Hermione watched with interest as they drew cards, discarded them, and placed there bets. Draco seemed confident. The last hand came around, final bets were placed. The mediator, who lead the game, looked to Draco. "Your winnings?"
Draco took a drink of his wine, before looking at Blaise with the smallest of smiles. "A boon."
"Agreed?" The monotone voice of the elder man asked.
Blaise nodded. His smile became sly, as he glanced to Hermione quickly. "Hermione. Mine, for a night."
Draco's face paled slightly. He was confident, but… give her up? To him? He knew what he did to some of his women, he'd heard the stories. He looked to Hermione, who was completely red. Was it worth it? To either of them? Hermione gave the slowest nod, her eyes never leaving his. She trusted him, by Merlin, she did. He wouldn't place her on the line like that unless it was worth it. He knew how much it pained him to choke out the "agreed" that the man sought.
And the cards were laid down.
A draw at 20 each. The mediator checked the hands again, and called it formally. "In case of a tie, both players get the agreed bets."
Blaise nonchalantly raised his glass up to Draco, downing the rest of his wine as he looked to Hermione, that smile making her shiver. Draco looked distraught as he stood, pulling Hermione out of that house with him. Blaise was shouting behind him. "Friday, Draco. Bring her, and we'll discuss the boon… and if she'd wear red, that'd be appreciated… then the blood won't show!" The laughter that surrounded their leaving left Hermione dazed.
Blaise wouldn't… kill her, would he? Did she care?
No, she decided. Dying to get Draco the help he needed was worth it. And to die by Blaise's hands… yes, she thought. That would be worth it. She licked her lips, the taste of blood almost there. Yes.
Wednesday came and went, Thursday as well. Draco paced the house incessantly, muttering to himself. She knew what he was debating about. The boon: to help him and his purpose… or to spare her? She didn't know why he was so afraid. Blaise had stated he'd have her, one day. And he would. She knew that. Why not now, when it would be so beneficial? Worried or not, he couldn't refuse the help.
When Friday rolled around, she was nervous. She felt much like she had when she'd gone on her first date with Ron. Her stomach did flip-flops, and she couldn't quite meet Draco's prying gaze. She dressed as he asked, in a dark red, a blood red, to match the collar. The leash was on, too, but she didn't mind.
In the carriage, as they made their way to Blaise's manor, Hermione stared out the window. When she could see it out the window in the distance, she finally decided to make a stand to Draco.
"You're not giving up this chance for me, Malfoy."
He snapped his attention back to her, scowling. "What do you mean?"
"If you make him give up his claim on me tonight, you're doing it for you. Don't lie and say it's for my sake. It's for your sake. And if you're that selfish, then so be it. But don't once try to play hero for me, Malfoy. I don't need you to." She felt so cold, saying that to him, but it was the truth. She would do this. She wanted to do this. The wizard world needed help, and if she was the bargaining chip, then so be it. She would play her part, and play it well.
She stepped out of the carriage with grace and dignity, her chin held high. She had her own leash, attached to the collar and her belt. Draco followed her, sulking, a storm brewing in his eyes. When she glanced at him as they were led into the sitting area, she thought she saw a flash of pain. Pain of his dignity being lost? Or pain of hers? Because it surely wasn't the pain of giving her up to another man for a night. She was sure he didn't feel that sort of claim on her; just a simple male single-mindedness that kept him from wanting to let her go.
Blaise entered quietly, taking the seat opposite the couch that Draco and Hermione had sat on. He poured some rum for them each into small glasses, passing them to each. Draco gratefully drank his quickly, getting another refill. His hands were shaking. Hermione sipped hers, the burning sensation making her feel warm and happy. Seeing Draco such a mess almost made her pity him. Almost. But they needed this so badly. She needed this so badly.
"What do you want from me so badly, Draco? You don't want to give her up, even I can see that." Blaise took a sip, watching Draco gather himself.
"Help me overthrow Voldemort." He'd laid all his cards on the table. If Blaise really wanted to play a game, he could turn him in, blackmail him. He knew that, and yet he'd laid it all out. It had to be out. Blaise wanted a game, so here was the game. And the stakes were lives; their own and others.
Blaise sat for a moment, nails delicately tapping against the arm of the chair before he burst out laughing. "Is that all? And here I was, thinking you'd ask me for my right ball or something." Daringly, he downed the rest of his rum, putting his arm out, hand held for a shake "My skills as a wizard for Hermione's skills as a whore." His eyes were dancing, so black in the fire-lit room. He worded it that way on purpose, Hermione knew. To goad him.
Draco swallowed hard, before downing the rest of his rum and whispering so lowly Hermione barely heard him. "Dear Merlin, forgive me." His arm went out, meeting Blaise's as they grasped each other's wrists. "Your skills for Hermione's."
Hermione sat as Draco was escorted from the room. "Tomorrow morning, I'll come and get you. First thing." His eyes were so lost, almost wild. He looked broken as he walked from the room. Hermione bit her bottom lip as she watched. What was that feeling so deep in her gut that made her want to stop him? Made her want to do anything to make him be like he was before Blaise had even been brought into this? She didn't know… and she was afraid of the day she would learn.
Blaise stood, bowing deeply to her. "M'Lady, if I may?"
She stood, shaking as she took his hand, letting him lead her away. She was in the real lion's den now. There was no escaping it now. There was no escaping him, now.
A/N: Review if you'd like. ;o I'm not trying to force people into reviews, it'll just make me post up chapters faster / write faster. You will get your chapters eventually without the reviews, it just might take me a little longer. Hope you all enjoy. The next chapter is... fun. This is a large chapter to make up for the small ones that come next.