No Consequences

You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend

And you say he's just a friend, oh baby

You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend

But you say he's just a friend, oh baby

You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend

But you say he's just a friend

(Just A Friend—Bizmarkie)

"I'm looking for something that you might have," Hermione said, standing in Draco's room. Draco was leaning back in his chair, feet propped on his desk, hands woven behind his head.

"Wow. I didn't think you took my comment in the library seriously."

"Don't be disgusting," she rolled her eyes. "The chances of us in bed together are extremely thin."

"Have I told you I'm a gambling man? We don't have to use the bed," he shrugged, "I can shove you up against that wall if you prefer--." Hermione cut him off.

"Where is it Malfoy?" she demanded.

"Where is what?" he asked innocently.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Folded up piece of old parchment?" he feigned guessing. "Blank?" he added with emphasis. "What is so special about it that has Potty and Weasel scouring the Slytherin dorms for before he sends you here." Hermione shifted her weight and Draco rose an eyebrow. "Oh, Potty doesn't know you're here," he said as he stood up and walked over to her.

"Where is it Draco?"

He stopped in front of her. "If this thing is so important to you guys, why would I give it up to you?"

"Carte blanche, remember?"

"Ah yes, Carte Blanche," he said quietly. "And you're cashing it in for this? I was hoping you would save it for something else."

Hermione sighed and moved past him to his desk, opening the drawer and sifting through it. Draco turned around and watched her.

"You're cold," he said plainly.

Hermione looked up at him. She felt fine. "What?"

"It's not near the desk, you're cold," he said impatiently as if he were speaking to a child.

Hermione closed the drawer and walked to his bookshelf ("Cold"), then his bureau ("Cold"), then his, ugh, bed ("Unfortunately like ice"). Hermione marched over to him, eyes narrowed.

"Where is it Draco?" she demanded.

"Definitely warmer," he smirked.

Hermione stared at him. Okay, she could play this game. Draco opened his arms to either side of him and she reached out, her hand hovering above his left arm and moved closer to his chest.

"Warmer."

Her hand hovered over his chest as she looked into his grey eyes. Her hand moved lower ("Getting warmer") past his pectorals to his lower ribs and stopping at his navel.

"Much warmer," he whispered, stepping closer to her.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Is it in your trousers?"

Draco let a small smile grow on his face. "Now look who's being disgusting." She tilted her head. "Fine, it's in my pocket."

"Then get it," she said.

"No, you get it. You wanted Carte Blanche, for me to give you the parchment but you didn't say how."

Hermione stared at him. "Fine," she said, calling his bluff. Her fingers reached out and rested against the fabric rim of his pocket. Just do it, wash your hands thoroughly after this and give Harry a stern lecture on protecting his belongings. She slipped her hand in and fished for the parchment, feeling instead, through the fabric….something else.

She yanked her hand free.

"Damn it Draco!" she cursed. "You're such a sick bastard!"

Draco laughed and moved past her. "You walked right into that one Granger." He stopped in front of the bookshelf and selected one book, opening it. "Didn't think you were that naïve." He thumbed through it and stopped at a page where the parchment stuck out. He waved his wand over it and the parchment came free.

"A sticking charm?" Hermione asked, taking the parchment from him.

"A powerful one," he answered. "Don't be so trusting in people. Everyone has their own motivations behind many of the things they do, their own agenda. You'd be surprised what people do in the name of good. Including Potty."

"How dare you!" Hermione whirled on him.

"Come on Granger, let's stop turning a blind eye when it concerns him. You and I both know what he's capable of, whom he bears an eerie resemblance to magically speaking, hell I even heard he has his own pet snake."

"Harry is nothing like him!"

"Is that what Potty says?" he asked and a memory came to Hermione about something Harry had said when they had visited Tom Riddle's orphanage. Draco continued. "And then there's the matter of placing a tracking charm on your best friend…very honorable and moral indeed."

Hermione didn't even bother correcting him. "Everyone has their darker side, Draco."

Draco stepped up closer, standing directly in front of her. "Yes but Potter's is a bit more darker than others."

"Harry would never—"

"Of all people, I know exactly what Potter is capable of," he said quietly, remembering what Potter had done to him in the girl's lavatory last year.

Hermione stuffed the parchment in her robes and left the room.

It was very late when she entered the Gryffindor common room and snuck into the seventh year boy's dormitory. Neville and Ron were making a racket with their snoring, Dean was solving the problem by placing his headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound. Seamus and Harry had the curtains drawn around their beds, probably with charms up to keep the sound out. She tiptoed across the room and knelt in front of Harry's trunk. Isis slid out from under the bed, giving her a start.

"Isis!" she whispered, holding a hand to her chest. "Believe me, it's best he doesn't know who got it back," she said as she opened his trunk and slipped the Map back inside. Closing it, she looked up…and froze.

Harry's glasses were not on the nightstand.