Chapter Twenty-Three An Enjoyable Performance

When Hermione began to resurface into consciousness all she was aware of at first was how very comfortable she felt. She had no doubt that in a hotel such as this the beds would be of the highest quality, but there was something about the cosiness that was familiar, if different.

She breathed deeply, feeling a little more wakefulness coming into her mind and body, became aware of pressure against various parts of her body. A soft, warm breath blew across her cheek, and she opened her eyes, blinking as they confirmed the suspicion that was making her heart thud far too loudly in her chest.

Draco's chin and lips were resting against her forehead, the two of them sharing one of the plush pillows. Somehow they had migrated towards each other in the centre of the bed, and now were a confusing tangle of limbs. His right arm was under her neck, a surprising amount of bicep a comfortable pillow, and his left hand curled over her waist, fingers loose against her lower back.

Hermione tried to breathe deeply to calm herself, but only succeeded in drowning herself in his scent. Of course, even after hours of sleep, Draco Malfoy could still smell refined and expensive. He had a faint, human musk of course, but it was a clean and warm smell and mixed well with whatever his aftershave was. There was a hint of pine needles, and something spicer, still woody, that reminded her of old libraries. Why that, Malfoy? Why one of my favourite smells? Is this to torture me for yesterday?

She shifted slightly and realised with no small degree of mortification that her right leg was hooked up and over his hip, holding him close.

Another breath ghosted across her face, and she slowly began to move, lifting her leg as carefully as possible to disengage the most compromising part of their position. Her right arm was slung over his waist, her left hand resting on his chest. His bare chest.

Hermione stifled a groan. Why did Malfoy have to be one of those men? It was too much.

Very carefully, Hermione returned his limbs to him, and finally managed to roll out of bed. She could feel the blush that was glowing in her cheeks, and very quickly tiptoed over to the bathroom. She had no need of a shower at all, but there was too much warmth running through her body, and she needed to do something to distract herself from how nice it had been waking up in his arms. She'd had a few dalliances since settling into adulthood, and whilst morning cuddles were a secret craving, she had her job which meant early mornings, and even then not all of them had stayed that long.

She closed the door quietly behind her, and leant against the cool tiles for a moment, pressing her cheeks against them, and let out a deep sigh.

I hate emotions.

She peeled herself off the wall and went to run the shower. Malfoy's scent still clung to her, and she pulled at her hair ruefully, a little bit sad to wash it out. Just one last sniff. She held her hair to her face, and his scent filled her nose again, far too enticing and heady.

She turned to face herself in the mirror. Right. You are Hermione Granger. You aren't a silly schoolgirl, being seduced by a really nice cuddle and a man who smells like a library. That's preposterous.

Hermione paused a moment. Cuddled by Malfoy! The words just didn't seem to go together, except now they did. Of course he would be as much a secret cuddler as she was. Life was just unfair that way. She gave herself a quick series of light slaps on the cheek, trying to wake herself up.

Draco doesn't know. It's OK. Just focus on the job, remember. And apologise for last night.

She nodded to herself, repeating the words over and over to herself like a mantra as she got into the shower.

I can do this. I can do this.


Draco woke to the soft sound of the shower. He blinked blearily, and rubbed sleep from his eyes, relieved that Granger wasn't there to see him so disorientated. He had never shared his mornings with anyone, and although he wasn't averse to sharing them with Hermione, he did want to cling onto some semblance of normality. She had seen him disarmed in just about every single way possible already, he would keep his morning fuzziness to himself, if possible.

He'd slept well. Surprisingly well. Better than he had in a very long time in fact.

He surveyed his location in the centre of the bed, the twin depressions in the plush pillows, and very quickly figured out what must have happened.

Hermione Granger was a cuddler. And so am I, apparently?

He frowned. That had never happened before. He didn't do cuddly. But then neither had anyone he'd ever been with before. And he trusted Granger more than anyone he'd ever shared a bed with.

He flopped back into the pillows as the shower continued to hiss, stretching out his back and shoulders and thinking. He could smell Hermione all over the sheets, that strange freshness that was peculiar to her, the warmth of beeswax and a hint of something floral.

There could only be one reason for Hermione being in the shower now, though. Embarrassment. It stung him a little again, going over the same feelings as last night, but Draco knew it would be foolish to get hung up on such a thing. If there was thing he knew for certain, Hermione Granger was a complex woman, and it wouldn't do to assume her reasoning.

He got up, going over to a writing pad on the desk by their balcony to order a room service breakfast, his request appearing magically on a docket in the hotel kitchens as he wrote. He wasn't entirely sure about Hermione's meal preferences, so scribbled down a fair variety. There would be something there that she would like.


By the time Hermione came out of the bathroom, the food had been delivered, bowls and plates and condiments covering their dining table by the windows, and Draco was eating, still only in his pyjama bottoms.

The morning sun coming in through the net curtains was nice against his bare skin, a gentle warmth that was a pleasant accompaniment to the lavish breakfast laid out on the table.

Hermione rounded the corner into the dining room, casually dressed in deference to the warmth of the hotel in a top and shorts, and stopped dead as she took it in. Draco watched her over the rim of his coffee cup.

"Are we meant to finish all of this?" She forced herself to keep her eyes on the food, avoiding taking a second glance at the firm planes of his torso. I was cuddling that. She pushed the unhelpful thought to the back of her mind, hoping he wouldn't notice her blush.

Draco had the grace to look abashed. "I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a bit of almost everything."

Hermione's expression of shock gentled. "Thank you." She moved slowly over to take the seat opposite him, surveying the vast selection.

Draco watched her closely. "Is it OK?"

"Hm? What?" Hermione looked up, drawn out of her abstraction. "Oh. Yes, no this is fine." She blushed a little at being caught out and quickly put a few things on her plate.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee?"

"Tea, please." Hermione watched as the spout of the pot came into view, the gush of the reddish brown liquid splashing into her cup and sending up the lovely scent of freshly brewed tea. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hermione twisted the napkin she had placed over her lap with her fingers, eyes fixed on her plate.

"Sugar?"

"Oh, um. One."

There was a plop as the lump dropped in.

"Milk?"

"Yes." Hermione swallowed as Draco poured the milk in for her, frightened of looking up and meeting the grey-eyed gaze she knew was probably trained on her. "Thank you."

Draco set the milk jug down, and returned to sipping his coffee. Granger was far more tense than he had thought she would be. It was radiating off her. She carefully buttered a slice of toast, spreading evenly to the edges before cutting it into a triangle, and nibbling on a corner, all the while avoiding looking at him.

"Er. Draco." Hermione fiddled with the toast, breadcrumbs showering her plate and the edge of the table. She forced her hands back into her lap, lifting her eyes to meet his through sheer willpower. "I'm sorry. About yesterday evening. It wasn't fair – you didn't do anything wrong. I…I meant to apologise last night, but I…" she shrugged lamely.

Draco felt his whole body relax. "Thank you, Hermione. And don't worry about it. We're in a weird situation. I know I'm not–" he swallowed. "I'm not who you'd choose for this."

"No! that's not what I–"

"It's OK, Hermione. You don't need to explain." Draco forced himself to keep his tone light. "We're just doing a job."

Hermione felt the words die in her throat and tried not to visibly wilt. He was right. It was just a job. She straightened her shoulders. "Yes. It's a job." She took a breath, trying to regain some sense of professionalism. "Has there been any news from Harry or the papers?"

Draco shook his head, crushing his feelings down, refusing to acknowledge how it had felt hearing her agree. "I'm not sure about the papers – haven't had a chance to check, and I'm not sure if we should until this is done. Potter hasn't owled, which is probably for the best. If there's too much contact between us and him it will look fishy, and coming and going owls when we're meant to be on a minibreak for just us might be noticed by the reporters if they're spying on us like we hope. Especially seeing as my involvement in the case still isn't publicly known."

Hermione nodded, beginning to eat properly now that the weight of the apology was off her chest. Then she frowned. "Coming and going…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"

Hermione's frown deepened. "I'm not totally sure yet. I think…I think I might have an idea." She met his gaze. "I need to go back into the office."

"What?" Draco could hardly believe his ears. "Did you miss the part about how we're supposed to be here to create a trap? We, as in, both of us?"

"I know, I know! But this could help us!"

"I'm really not appreciating the mysteriousness, Granger," Draco snapped. "There's still plenty left for us to do to hook the attention of reporters. Why not just owl Potter for him to look into it?"

"I know! But please – surely there are things we could set up to make it seem like I'm still here? And Harry has never been good at research – you know that."

Draco scowled. "This better be worth it."

Hermione smiled faintly. "Thank you."


Even after Hermione had vanished into the floo, Draco remained in front of the fireplace, scowling, hands in his pockets at her sudden disappearance. This wasn't the mission. But then Hermione was doing something to help solve the case. He growled, running a hand through his hair.

He straightened his posture, forcing calm back through his body, and took out his wand. He was a Malfoy. There was still the job to do.

When Hermione returned just after lunchtime, the first thing she noticed were the sounds. She frowned, trying to place them for a moment, her eyes widening as she discerned moans amongst the rhythmic thumping. It was too loud for it not to be coming from within their suite.

"Draco?" She called softly, wary of just who else might be in the suite, and valiantly ignoring the sudden flash of jealousy at the thought that he might have invited some female friend for a fun time while she was away.

She walked quietly out of the lounge and into the private sitting room, hesitantly peering around the door.

Draco lay in a chaise lounge, a bowl of grapes on the coffee table at his elbow, a book in his hands.

"Draco. What is going on?" Hermione couldn't help herself, her hands going to her hips. The moaning was even louder in here.

"Finally!" Draco turned at her voice, swinging his legs off the couch, and getting up, dropping what she now recognised as one of the books they had retrieved from his family library on the seat that he left. "Do you know how boring this has been?"

"Harder, Draco! Harder!"

They both paused a moment at the breathy interruption from the bedroom.

Hermione frowned. "Is that my voice?"

Draco tried not to look guilty, but his pale cheeks flushed. "Uh. Maybe?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

There was a loud, masculine groan and an accompanying feminine one.

Draco shrugged helplessly, hoping against hope that she wouldn't notice the heat in his cheeks as the sounds continued to grow in volume from the bedroom. He wasn't used to this…prudishness. "Well what did you expect me to do with you not here? I couldn't leave the suite, so the only other thing that would attract attention without needing visible evidence was–"

"The sound of you shagging my brains out?"

"Uh. Well…if you want to put it like that, yes."

Hermione's expression remained unimpressed.

"It's just a spell, it's OK. There's no, uh, visual accompaniment."

"I should hope not!" Hermione glared towards the half-open bedroom door as another sighing moan came from it. "It's not even what I sound like," she muttered.

Draco blinked, but bit his tongue.

Hermione turned back to him. "Well? What else have you done then?"

"Uh, well I ordered room service a couple of times – chocolate, strawberries, cream, champagne, oysters, that sort of thing – left the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Um. I might have answered the door mostly naked the second time."

"Mmhmm?"

Draco opted for a hopeful smile. "It was for the mission?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, relaxing and moving over to flop onto a couch. "Fine. I'll concede it's a good idea. Rita and Pansy and whoever else is onto us have probably already bribed some of the staff to pass on what they hear and see, and it's certainly loud enough to be heard in the hall."

Draco nodded enthusiastically, taking heart from the change in her mood and taking a seat nearby. "Exactly."

He winced as the sounds became a little more strident.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Uh…well. I might have had some visible hickeys when I answered the door. Or, you know, bite marks."

Hermione shot him a sideways glance. "And?"

"Well." Draco rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "They'll probably have to be charmed on again for the rest of today when we go do stuff." He coughed. "Er, continuity and all that."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "So the wizarding public are going to think I'm sexually ravenous and bite people."

"And that I like that kind of female."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm pretty sure that was already old news."

Draco spluttered. "Excuse me?"

"Even if there's no truth to it, any girl who you've bedded since recovering your reputation will have spun some sort of fantastical story to a gossip magazine somewhere. There's nothing like deviating from the vanilla to add spice to a story."

Draco managed not to gawp at her, but only just. He had never dreamt that he'd ever hear Hermione Granger of all people just casually talking about sex, not to mention kinks. "This is true." The temptation to ask for more of her thoughts on the matter was strong, but he felt he'd already dodged a curse with her acceptance of the performance he'd put on in her absence. "So. Did you find out what you were looking for?"

Hermione brightened, livening up again. "Yes! It was what you said about coming and going that made me think. People come and go and have a wide usual range that they travel in for work, socialising, shopping, all that stuff. But they will also have fairly set routines. I went back through the files, and the Muggle security footage that we took, and cross referenced the usual routines of the victims against where their bodies were found. None of them did anything that would have brought them anywhere near the locations."

Draco frowned, not entirely sure where Hermione was going with this yet.

"We know that they were murdered where their bodies were found – the amount of mess makes that obvious. And given that this murderer is more than your average unhinged person, I very much doubt they would have killed them whilst they were unconscious. So that means there's a very high likelihood that they were brought together to the place that they were murdered, and then killed. But to manage to track multiple victims over such a widespread area in order to gather them to the same single spot would be difficult on your own. It's not impossible – magic makes a lot of things easier obviously – but it would be infinitely simpler with multiple people involved. The killer isn't working alone." She sat back, watching Draco anxiously. "I can't be certain of it, but something in my gut just pinged when I thought of it. It feels right."

"It makes sense." Draco conceded. He frowned. "You said they tracked their victims."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. All of this was organised. None of the victims were randomly selected."

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"The spread. If it could have been just anyone, why have a bunch of random people from difficult to reach locations all brought to a single place? Why not just grab however many people you need or feel like killing as they go past in the street and make life simpler? No. They were chosen, they were watched, they were brought to the same location, and then killed."

Draco frowned. "So there's some method that we're missing then."

"Exactly. This is no unorganised revenge spree. These people are collateral damage, but it's not random. It's cold and it's calculated."

"Not so much Bellatrix's style."

"No."

"And it will make our job of trying to become targets harder."

"Exactly." Anxiety bled into Hermione's expression for the first time. "We're going to have to try really hard." She glanced towards the bedroom, the sounds still issuing loudly from it. "And I think it's going to have to be a lot of this kind of stuff. We have to be…really in your face."

Some slight amount of Draco's levity returned. "Just as well you're with me then." He smiled faintly. "Are you up for it?"

Hermione summoned a smile in return, rallying herself. "Are you?"


The rest of the day they put themselves to work with an industry that many a dedicated professional would have admired. Several times they allowed themselves to be discovered in the garden. Draco led Hermione through the maze with an enchanted bubble surrounding them so that they didn't have to rug up against the snow, the pair of them almost falling through the hedges several times as Draco was discovered various other guests making some dedicated attention to Hermione's neck or else with his hands sliding further than was usually appropriate up her legs, the skirt her dress hitched nearly up to her waist.

They were very aware that Rita could be anywhere in her beetle form, and that the moment they were in public spaces, they couldn't slip between themselves and the loved-up couple they were pretending to be. Their transformation had to be complete.

As the day went on, it became easier to forget that it was an act, both of them relaxing into the performance and finally managing to let go of the thoughts and feelings that were holding them back, separately allowing themselves to enjoy what they could while it lasted, relying less and less of their mental link to guide their behaviour, and more and more letting instinct and learning take over.

The pool was also put to good use. It was a massive creation, deep in the mountain beneath the hotel, the roof supported with thick, beautifully decorated pillars, and one wall given over to a large rock pool and waterfall, complete with a cave behind it.

Draco had had to use a great deal of self-control to keep a relaxed but appreciative expression when Hermione had first revealed her swimsuit – a rather attractive black one-piece, with large sections cut out. It meant that her scars were on full view, and he could tell she had been a little self-conscious as she slipped into the water beside him.

When they were training she had never seemed to give them a second thought. She had had them for so many years now that they were simply a part of her. But he didn't need to go into her mind to know that this was different for her.

He had been more than a little thankful that the act had allowed him to hold her close, his hands gentle under the water as they stroked the damaged skin, reassuring her with his touch that she had nothing to worry about. The smile she had given him was something he decided belonged to him, not their performance.

Judging by the staring and the whispers that had begun to follow them, at least a few stories had begun to hit the papers, and by the time dinner came round, there didn't seem to be a single guest who hadn't read some version of the story of their passionate love affair, and speculation was running rife about the union of a Muggle-born and a reformed blood purist. The staff, of course, were too professional to let any hint of the gossip be betrayed in their manner and were as courteous as ever as they opened doors and passed them.

After the sound of the dinner gong, they retreated upstairs to dress.

Draco repeated his magic of the previous evening at Hermione's shy request, this time creating a beautiful gown in forest green velvet.

"Backless, please."

Draco paused, his wand still raised. He met her eyes, then smiled and nodded.

The velvet swirled out in a luxurious ripple, and Draco carefully pieced together the garment. The skirt was full again, the bodice shaped, the neckline straight across the collarbones, the demure front contrasting with the daring back. There were slim straps to help keep the front in place, but the back was completely open in a deep V, that gave way to the voluminous cascade of the skirt.

He turned to Hermione, nervous in a way he hadn't been the previous night. "Well?"

Hermione's eyes were shining. "It's perfect. Thank you, Draco."

He smiled. "It's nothing."

"It's not." Hermione beamed at him.

Draco shuffled his feet, hoping against hope that she wouldn't notice the flush in his cheeks. "I'll wait for you to get dressed. I think we should come down together tonight."

"Agreed."

As he waited, Draco dressed slowly, trying to eke out the time in which he had something to occupy himself, inexplicably nervous about greeting Hermione when she emerged. He retied his bowtie five times before he was able to make himself stop, and instead took to pacing, eventually pouring himself a small Firewhiskey.

"Knock knock."

Hermione was standing in the doorway, watching him as he paced, her expression curious and very faintly amused.

"Hermione." Draco gulped.

Green suited her. She had done her hair up in a slick French twist, and what looked like a fine choker of glittering diamonds rested against the base of her throat.

"How do I look?" She came further into the room, slowly turning on the spot.

As she turned, Draco realised the necklace was not a choker as he had thought, but much longer. A single string of diamonds hung down against her spine, an emerald the size of a pigeon's egg dangling at the base like a pendulum.

"Beautiful."

Hermione smiled, blushing. "Thank you. I thought a lariat would be perfect for this kind of dress."

"A lariat?"

"The necklace."

"Ah." Draco swallowed again. "Diamonds suit you."

Hermione giggled. "Oh they're not diamonds – I could never afford something like this in diamonds. They're just cubic zirconia."

Draco frowned. "That should be fixed."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Don't be silly Draco. This necklace does me perfectly fine. Besides – we're returning to the Ministry tomorrow. No need to go overboard."

Draco felt himself return to reality with a bump. The Ministry. Tomorrow. It was like the wonderful little bubble of the afternoon had been popped. "Yes. Of course. Well," he straightened his jacket, extending an arm. "Shall we?"

Hermione smiled, taking his arm. "Yes."


A bit later of an update than I intended for this month, but it's here! I've been busy setting up a and writing blog posts for my website!

Feelings are mounting guys... Also I enjoy imagining the staff when they hear the sounds of Draco and Hermione apparently enthusiastically at it for most of the morning. I think I enjoy Draco making Hermione outfits a bit too much now, just because creating gorgeous looks for her is fun. But also the moment of reality hitting Draco again when Hermione reminds him that they're returning to the Ministry the next day... Those pesky feelings.

Hope you enjoyed it and that your quarantine is going well!

Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)

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