Author's Note: All disclaimers apply. I do not own the characters contained in this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. Inc. Also thanks for all of the reviews. They are very inspirational and appreciated! Edited to add credit to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and her plot from Shanna. This entire disclaimer applies to her work as well.

Chapter 16

Partial Disclosure

The sound of the manacles Draco had donned for Harry's visit clinking to the floor was lost on her. Hermione was use to him walking about freely as he wished. Perhaps that had been her mistake, her downfall as it were. Letting him go about as though he was not a criminal had allowed him to easily creep into every facet of her life. Below, just moments ago, she had nearly defended him, and though Harry was wrong, and didn't know the entire truth behind those events years before, he was her friend. He had been there for her throughout their school years from nearly the first day. Draco had tormented her from their first meeting. There should have been no question who should have held her loyalty, but yet there was.

Selfishly, Hermione wanted to chase after Harry and rant at him, telling him everything Draco had told her, and explaining their arrangement. People changed and she knew she was too kindhearted at times, but she was a good judge of character. Draco's views of Harry and the Ministry itself were jaded, but perhaps rightly so. Percy obviously hadn't treated him with any fairness, and Harry's viewpoints were clouded by anger and guilt.

"Potter isn't going to win this time," Draco hissed above her, grey eyes now almost wild and desperate. "He's got the world at his feet and more fame than he's entitled to. The one thing I have left he has to try and take, and I won't let him. Not this time."

"Honestly, Malfoy, Harry doesn't want your bloody inheritance. I know he offered you money today, but he won't expect it back if you take it," Hermione sighed, wondering why she would have thought his sudden fury was anything more than thinking Harry had the upper hand. Luckily, she wasn't truly afraid of him, knowing that even when he had blindly accused her of infidelity before he hadn't been able to harm her.

If possible he looked even angrier and he made good his threat to start shaking her. "Money. Fucking Merlin that's all you truly believe I'm thinking about!"

Surprising her Dracobounded to his feet and stalked from the flat, his footsteps pounding on the stairs as he descended. Hermione slowly eased up into a sitting position, staring at the open door in confusion. For a time she thought he had gone and wouldn't come back, but the stairs soon creaked in agony as he came up them again.

When Draco appeared he was carrying a pouch that looked to be heavy. Throwing it down in front of her he glared, his rage seeming to have grown more intense. "Money isn't my problem, far from it. If I wanted to secure my freedom I'd go right to the Ministry this second. There's more than enough there I assure you, and then some."

Absently Hermione reached out to take hold of the pouch realizing her assumption was correct, and it weighed quite a lot. He was right, there was more than enough inside to appease his sentence with the Ministry. "Why? How long have you had this and haven't used it?"

"Not long, but suffice to say I have no intention of using it until I have to. Now, the question why, is it that hard to believe that I might have some decency left?" Draco kicked the fallen manacles aside while unbuttoning his shirt all the while keeping his furious gaze fastened to her.

"You're not the cruel little boy I remember, no. Still, I can't believe…"

"That's the problem. Potter could tell you the sky had gone purple and you'd eagerly nod and agree, where as I could offer you irrefutable evidence to the contrary and you'd still stand at Potter's side." The shirt was flung to the floor and his shoes were being discarded next.

"Malfoy, I don't understand," Hermione said, frowning pushing herself up to stand. "Harry's feud with you is only a minor reason that we shouldn't…"

"No, it's not a reason at all. Potter's a grown man now and he has his own life. Let him live his and you live yours. What's between us is just that, between us. I'm not asking you to take sides but I'm not going to let you walk away simply because Potter's got his nappies twisted a bit." Draco's shoes were now in the same pile as his shirt and manacles. Hermione had been paying attention to his words and like before she'd let his true intentions go unnoticed.

"Malfoy,"

"Stop saying that!" Draco growled momentarily taking his mind off of the task of removing his pants. "One visit from Potter and you've grown adverse to the use of my name again. What kind of power does he hold over you anyway!"

"He's my friend," Hermione answered, not knowing what he expected her to say. "He cares about me, loves me. He's like a brother really, and after all that he suffered I can't imagine purposefully hurting him."

"However, discarding your husband is quite all right," he sneered, advancing on her, still not completely divested of his clothing. "What about hurting yourself? I don't believe you don't want this, us. Is it all right for Potter to have everything he wants while you can't indulge yourself?'

"It's not just about Harry," Hermione stated again, suddenly wondering if she was just running out of excuses and this was her last one to grasp. Malfoy could hurt her emotionally in ways that she might never recover from. Already Hermione admitted to herself that she'd grown too attached. That she wanted him more than was healthy really.

That was exactly what she was doing. She'd had a number of disagreements with Harry in the past, about far greater things than who she became involved with. They always found common ground again. If she chose Malfoy finding common ground with Harry would take sometime, but he wouldn't abandon her completely. In the back of her mind Hermione knew that, but the thought of being abandoned by Malfoy if she opened herself, her heart, was more frightening.

"No, maybe you're telling the truth there," Draco said thoughtfully, coming behind her and loosening the clasp of her robe so it slid to the floor in a pool around her feet. "You're afraid right now and I'm not sure why."

"Of course not," she snapped, turning to face him, trying to appear as angry as he was. "You don't have anything to lose and I have everything. Friends, family, everything."

"If these friends and family are so dedicated and deserve such blind devotion don't you suppose they ought to accept the choices you make?" Draco asked, turning her head to the side to nip and suck the skin below her ear. He wasn't being gentle, and Hermione knew partly he was attempting to overwhelm her and his anger played a role in his behavior.

"My family, my mother and father, would never understand but they'd accept it," she sighed, trembling and to her shame leaning against him. "The Weasleys, Harry, they'd possibly shut me out forever."

"From what I know of the Weasleys they're pretty accepting. Merlin, Hermione they have a werewolf for a son and Arthur's been branded a blood traitor for years. They're used to dealing with prejudice," Draco refuted her easily, hands stealing beneath the small cotton shirt to roughly cup her breasts and rub his thumbs over the nipples that hardened even through the thin material of her bra. "Still, that's nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm afraid of you," she cried out, pulling away from Draco and succeeding in freeing herself when her outburst surprised him.

"Of me? Good Gods why?" he shouted, the rage he had managed to suppress somewhat returning anew.

"For too many reasons to count, and for damn good ones," Hermione whispered, suddenly realizing she'd already said too much. "The moment you get released it will all change, and…"

"And we'll go home to the manor and put all of this behind us. The elves, the Ministry, all of it!"

"You'll never understand and that's what I'm afraid of most. Do you want to hear how weak I am? Then fine, I'm like every other woman Malfoy. I want kind words here and there. I want children someday, and I want love. As far as you're concerned I know emotions make people pathetic, and so someday I know you'll get tired of me." This wasn't going well and Hermione was already on the verge of angry tears. Weakness, that was all Dracoprobably saw in her now and she felt a sick knot of dread forming in her stomach.

"Would you accept love from someone if they weren't approved first by your sainted Potter and the Weasley brood? That's the real question isn't it?" Draco's voice had lost all of its anger and was soft and lilting. Her suspicions grew at a rapid pace and she watched him warily.

"Do you remember when I told you that you gave me something to think about in prison?" he asked, as he began to pace in front of her, eyes never leaving hers.

"Yes." That was an odd question, but Hermione was curious as to where it would lead.

"I lied," Draco whispered, and the tears spilled over her cheeks then. She had been right and he didn't want her as much as she had been lead to believe.

"Well, you were always good at that, lying that is. I should have suspected…."

"Obsessed, lusted, eventually started to descend into madness over you was more to the point," he cut her off before she could begin to take the conversation in another direction. "Prison isn't pleasant, it's hard and cruel, and for the year I was there I had no hope of ever seeing the outside again. So, after I stopped hating myself, and you for the path my thoughts were taking, I started imaging what it could be like, marriage, us, every side of it. At night when the Dementors moaned and wailed up through the halls I thought of you. I'm not going to lie and say pretty things. I don't know how and I'm not going to try and learn now. However, when I was sent back to the Ministry and that prick Percy had arranged for me to be near you again, I was given my last chance to make a life for myself."

Malfoy stopped his pacing and took a deep breath before walking toward her. This time Hermione didn't retreat, but stared back at him wonderingly. "I'll be honest, my initial reasons for staying married were selfish, well most of them still are, but lust and possession were what I convinced myself of first."

"Maybe we shouldn't discuss this anymore," Hermione murmured swiping at her tears furiously, only to find them replaced with fresh ones.

"You're the one thing I have left and I mean it when I say no one, not even Potter, is going to take you away from me." He stood in front of her, his voice soft and inviting, but not touching her.

"That's a very possessive thing to say." Hermionee tried to sound outraged, but a small burst of joy leapt within her heart. It wasn't a declaration of love, but Malfoy never relinquished what he considered his. He guarded the things he cared about closely and refused to surrender them. Selfish really, but for some reason it was reassuring to her.

"If you wanted flowery words you should have found a poet in prison," Draco shrugged, unaffected by her statement. "You want children? That's not such an extraordinary request and I'll admit the idea of starting a family someday is appealing. Now as far as love…"

"You made yourself clear before," Hermione interrupted, dropping her gaze to the floor, not wanting to hear how love had no place in marriage or the Wizarding World.

"Would you accept love from me or would you choose Potter and the Weasleys?"

Her eyes widened and she glanced back up certain she wasn't hearing him quite correctly. "Excuse me?"

For the first time since she'd met him Draco looked unsure of himself, almost lost. "I suppose there's such a thing as love. The Weasleys obviously know about it, what it feels like, how to express it. You've always so selflessly helped others and whenever you've talked about your parents there's a certain sparkle in your eyes that isn't there very often. I'm just not certain love is something I know how to feel."

"Do you love your mother?" Hermione asked bravely, knowing how dangerous the topic of his family was.

"I respected her for awhile, until she became so distant and submissive to my father that she wasn't recognizable," he replied, showing no signs of irritation with her question. "You, you're different, in that until the last possible option had been exhausted you still fought for that elf, endangering yourself in the process. Instead of letting yourself be intimidated you challenged everything that you thought was wrong. Granted, I wanted to lock you in this flat and never let you see the light of day again after that gypsy nonsense, but your kindness and your determination, I respect that."

"Has anyone ever told you they loved you?" The moment Hermione heard the words come out of her mouth she wanted to groan and throw herself over edge of her building.

A flicker of anger sprang to life in Draco's eyes but quickly disappeared. "No, and I don't need an empty declaration either. Besides, I don't know what it is I feel. It hurts, so that can't be love. This is rubbish," he sighed with annoyance, and turned away running his hands through his hair. "You're so certain that Potter's approval is all that matters to you. No one can compete with that."

"No, it's not all that matters," Hermione whispered, but didn't dare go to him. Taking a deep breath she didn't let herself think about her next actions. Grasping the edge of her shirt in her hands Hermione drew the garment over her had and cast it to the floor. When she was barefoot, next she glanced over again to see that his back was still to her and stripped away the loose pair of jeans now standing only in a simple bra and panties.

He was still standing away from her quiet and very stiff, his anger having not fully left. It was uncomfortable for Draco, she knew, to talk so openly and yet with her he had. Maybe he was right, Harry would one day know the truth about Dumbledore and though he'd never forgive Malfoy he'd surely understand that he'd changed. Harry would understand that she needed Malfoy just as he needed his wife Ginny. "I think we're both afraid. I'm afraid of never being loved and you're afraid of not knowing how."

Draco snorted derisively over that remark but didn't turn around. Hermione was shaking and unsure of herself but she continued unhooking the bra at the back and letting it glide to the floor in her wake. Then, even more unsteadily she slid her underwear past her hips and stepped from them as well. Licking her dry lips, Hermione wondered when she had grown so bold or so needy for someone.

Maybe it was the fact Harry was gone and his visit was starting to become a distant memory, or maybe it was her finally understanding something about her husband. He wanted her, could have left her when he acquired the money from the pouch but had stayed. Now, he was grappling with his own doubts. Malfoy was human and he'd tried to make her see that, no he'd let her see that the night before and just now.

Slowly Hermione opened her arms and slipped them around his lean waist pressing herself against his back. As she had expected Draco stiffened even more but didn't move away. "When you chose to follow Voldemort's orders to protect your mother that was love. You're not as selfish as you like to think you are, but I promise I won't ruin your reputation and let anyone else know."

"I'm terribly glad to know my reputation is safe in your hands," Draco drawled wryly, not moving, hardly breathing.

"What do you feel right now?" Hermione whispered, and suddenly she was ready to banish her pride and beg him to admit to anything that remotely might lead to his loving her. It was as much for his own good as her own desires. Besides, everyone she knew had someone now, and if she wanted Malfoy they would have to accept it.

Draco drew in a deep ragged breath. "You're making this damned difficult and you're enjoying it aren't you?" he accused but there wasn't enough malice in his tone to convince her he was truly livid anymore. "Very well, the thought of the Du Marier's hurting you makes me physically ill, the night I thought you were with Percy I wanted to actually murder him for touching you, and no matter how much you protest or try and fight me I can't walk away. That pouch should be evidence enough that I'm committed to having our marriage work."

"Then, I don't think we need to continue this for just two months," Hermione said pressing her cheek to his skin and rubbing it back and forth. She might well regret this. They were going to have their differences and they fought to win, the both of them. However, Draco had stayed with her during the Ministry search and helped her afterward, he'd kept her secrets when it would have been to his advantage to proclaim her crimes to the world, and he'd managed to give her something to hope for again, a life, after her failed S.P.E.W. and shop endeavor.

"I'm not letting you go I told you that," Draco rounded on her furiously then, misunderstanding her words.

"That's good to hear and someday maybe when you're ready you'll admit to how you really feel," Hermione said, smiling back sweetly, her tears drying and her faith in taking this leap in another direction strengthening.

Now it was Draco's turn to be speechless, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Hermione I'm in no mood to play games so if…"

"This won't be easy, far from it. You're going to hurt me and I'm going to make you angry but if you truly want to try then, so do I," Hermione nodded, some of her shyness returning as his gaze was traveling up and down her body now. She kept her gaze fixed on Draco determined to give herself over in everyway. He'd seen everything and touched everywhere, but somehow in the light of day his stare was more intense, more heated.

Warily, Draco reached out and took her face in his hands, pushing her hair back from her cheeks. "Does this mean you're willing to admit this then, to everyone once we can find a way so that Percy can't imprison you?"

"I'm not ashamed," Hermione answered truthfully, finding herself feeling free and more at ease than she had since before they'd made their bargain over a year ago.

Draco's eyes hardened into shards of ice again confusing her at the cause. "What happens when Potter comes back and reopens old wounds?"

Hermione wasn't ready for that moment yet, but she knew what she would say. "Harry's a friend, my best friend, but I have a husband now. Like Harry would choose Ginny, I choose you."

The look in his eyes didn't soften and she knew he didn't completely believe her, but that would come in time. Their decision to stay married was new to them both in many ways and she was still apprehensive about her decision. However, Hermione wasn't going to change her mind, and she had to put her trust in Draco that he wouldn't either.

Taking another chance, Hermione leaned up and pressed her lips to his, softly not expecting the almost violent response in turn. Draco twisted Hermione around and began pushing her back to the bedroom, one arm wrapped around her waist another hand threaded through her hair. She eagerly opened her mouth letting his tongue delve between her lips and teasing him in kind with her own.

Sometime later Hermione readily curled up in the bed, still unmade from this morning, which was unlike her to forgo such a mundane morning chore. When she felt Draco at her side, Hermione rolled to face him, his expression still unreadable but severe. Draco was struggling again, trying to separate his old ways with what he was feeling. That was no different than herself really. There was something between them now that she didn't understand, but didn't want to lose either.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, anything to sort out her confusion and depth of what she was feeling, but Draco shook his head. Easing her into his arms, he held her more tightly than was necessary. So, Hermione remained silent and enjoyed the momentary lull in their lives. This was more than enough for now. She couldn't expect him to express himself any further than she could at this point. Instead of questioning or analyzing something, for the first time she could remember she let her emotions guide her. Drifting to sleep for a small nap she decided not to care what the rest of the world thought. For this moment in time she was happy and that was all that mattered.

Harry, most likely due to pressure from Neville to leave Hermione be, did not go to the Ministry and Percy did not appear that afternoon or for many weeks following. Snow had long ago covered all of the shops and homes near Diagon Alley and Christmas was approaching. Neville finally found a free moment to check on Hermione and offer the news that the injunction against her shop had been lifted, however he was disappointed to inform her that he was finding it exceedingly difficult to obtain her divorce papers. To his surprise Hermione had just shrugged and told him not to worry too much. She'd find another way to make her situation work. When Neville asked as to what she was thinking of now, Hermione just told him she was handling it, and if Harry approached him about the subject of her agreement with Draco then, he was to tell him nothing.

Though Hermione attended the dinner with the Weasleys, and at least two more lunches after that, she and Harry hadn't truly gotten over their quarrel. Hermione was finding it not as difficult to remain in Harry's bad graces as she had first thought. Even if he didn't realize it, he was wrong, and someday he would have to admit to it. However, Ginny and Ron did not treat her any differently simply because she and Harry couldn't seem to hold a civil conversation any longer. It would pass, it always did, but for now Hermione was content.

Quietly she and Draco had reopened her shop, much to Draco's displeasure. He'd grown accustomed to having their days free and having to deal with the occasional customer. Keeping his distance from her for the benefit of others once again, playing the aloof servant annoyed Draco considerably. After the Ministry had gotten tired of catering to the Du Mariers he would go to Scrimgeour himself, inform him of his situation leaving out the more intimate details, and they would quietly agree that no further action was needed. He and Hermione would announce their marriage, and of course Potter's small near death experience at hearing the news would be pleasant to witness. In a little while, even the Du Marier's would have to find another project, something much more entertaining than targeting her, but he also knew the price for dishonoring them.

To maintain the pretense, when Fred and George had been inundated with customers during the coming holiday and they'd requested Hermione send Draco to help before Christmas, Hermione had been forced to agree. This was of course after numerous protests from Draco who also had to comply. Partly because the idea of three straight days with the Weasley twins already made his head ache to think about it, but mainly because leaving Hermione by herself didn't make him comfortable he had argued considerably.

Draco had gotten better at living with Hermione, realizing that he didn't have to bite back every remark because she seemed more sure of herself around him. Whenever he had gone too far, or was in danger of inciting her anger too much, he was learning when to retreat. In the end though, to prevent from raising suspicions he was led in shame to the Weasley menagerie and forced to listen to harpy women haggling about something their children wanted or their husbands simply couldn't live without. He'd give the Weasleys' this, they had a serene patience that if they hadn't been so wickedly mischievous he'd consider them saints.

At the end of the second day Ron had dropped in just as the shop doors were locked and Fred was prepared to escort Draco back to Hermione's. "So, you both got stuck with the ferret prat again?" he remarked, enjoying the ability to smirk with superiority while Draco was resetting the shelf a group of unruly and lucky to survive children had destroyed earlier.

"Seriously though Malfoy, any more letters," Ron asked, his tone no longer suggesting he wanted to bait and torment. "Harry told me about the others and that you refused to give them to him."

"Potter wanted to turn them over to Scrimegeour," Malfoy stated, not turning to acknowledge the redheaded dolt. Of all of the things he'd never live down it would have to be the fake Moody's overreacting at a small disagreement, with of all people, Golden Potter.

"And that is bad because…" Ron alluded, thoroughly confused.

"Because you know the Minister would drop the problem in your Weasel brother's lap and since he's sniffing about for the Du Marier's I doubt he'd put much effort into pursuing it."

"He's got a point Ron," Fred acknowledged, reluctantly. "Percy's nosing around for those tut mouthed bastards and he's not paying attention to anything else. Mum's furious with him still for searching Hermione's like he did, but he's as pretentious with her as everyone else."

"Still, whose to say Scrimgeour wouldn't look into it himself. He is our Minister we should trust him," Ron disagreed, picking through a small canister of candy left open on the front counter.

"Well, I'm not willing to take any chances," Draco snapped, without thinking better of it when the shelf went crashing to the floor again.

Fred exchanged a look with Ron at the comment, but remained silent. To be honest since Malfoy had come to them weeks ago with the knowledge that Hermione was being threatened, and two minor attempts made on her life Fred hadn't thought of his intentions as noble in the least. After that, he had shared every letter or remotely threatening note, and there had been many following the search of her shop. That Malfoy cared at all about her safety seemed impossible, so surely the intensity in his tone was surely only because of the frustration at his task. Fixing something without magic was humbling and annoying for someone like Malfoy. That was the reason for the irritation in his statement.

"Percy's going to find something else to focus on soon enough, he always does," Ron shrugged, popping some strawberry candy into his mouth. He was instantly sorry when with the first bite a loud pop echoed in his mouth and then the remaining bites burned his teeth and tongue like a slow moving acid. "Bloody hell Fred," he shrieked. "You let children eat this?"

"Muggles have this sweet and sour candy, and so we just embellished a bit on their version of the same kind that pops and fizzes in your mouth."
"Ahem," Draco cleared his throat loudly, giving up on the misshapen shelf. Let the Weasley buggers clean up after the ill-tempered brats they allowed in their shop. "We were discussing Granger."

"You still didn't answer me," Ron continued, his face somewhat pale after swallowing the dangerous candy. "Any more notes since the last time you talked to Fred and George."

"No," Draco answered, thoughtfully. "Frankly, I think that's something to worry about. It's almost like they've decided on a plan of action. No more taunting and teasing."
"Has anything seemed out of the ordinary?" This question came from George who had finished locking the shop and came to stand beside his brothers.

"No," Draco answered again. "No notes, no gifts, nothing and no strange customers since the shop reopened."

"Keep yourself on guard," George reiterated. "Come on Malfoy I'll lead you home. It's getting dark and I don't like the idea of Mione' alone for very long."

"Then you could've not asked her to send me over here," Draco halfway snarled, wondering if this Weasley brood understood how dangerous the Du Mariers truly were.

"Glad to see his disposition is unaffected," Ron drawled dryly, reaching for more candy but stopped himself and chose some safe looking chocolate in the adjacent container.

"We really did need the help, but how else are we supposed to know if she's receiving threats still and discuss this," George said simply, nodding for the door and urging Draco to follow.

"If it wasn't for Percy being such a git I'd report your behavior Malfoy," Ron chided, warily sniffing the chocolate before popping the piece in his mouth.

Choosing to ignore the empty threat Draco hurried to follow George and get home. Odd, but the shop did seem like a home now in some ways. When he allowed himself to examine his situation too closely he was contented and didn't miss the lavish comforts as much as he thought he would. Then again, after a year of prison his wife's flat above the shop was lavish. Pulling the worn cloak over his shoulders, Draco paused one last time at a snort and sudden coughing spell that Ron had given in to.

"Forgot to tell you the chocolates were filled with grasshoppers. Muggles like them," Fred said, as though Ron's reaction was unwarranted.

"Yes, they're usually dead though!" Ron sputtered some more, as the grasshopper jumped frantically over the counter.

It was not a far walk, so even at a distance the sight of Hermione's shop door hanging wide open and swinging in the wind was visible. Draco noticed it first and quickened his pace George soon following. Reaching the shop, and looking inside it was, if possible, more disheveled than after the Ministry search. "Mione'," George called worriedly, glancing around shrewdly.

There was a shuffling noise and Hermione appeared from behind the curtain at the back clutching her side. Staggering once she managed to grab hold of the counter to steady herself, and her eyes immediately shone with immense relief when she looked up. "Draco, I tried…" she whispered, but her voice failed her and she bent over recoiling in pain.

"Oh, Gods." It was barely a whisper that George couldn't even hear as Draco crossed the distance of the shop, and caught her before she crumpled to the floor.

Sinking with her to floor she was dead weight as she fell against Draco's chest. Hermione's robes were wet with blood and a bruises was already forming in the shape of curling fingers around her neck. George rushed forward, crouching down, and was as surprised by Hermione's injuries as the mix of rage and anguish distorting Malfoy's features. "We've got to get her to St. Mungo's," he urged, reaching for her.

"Don't touch her," Draco ground out, twisting away and drawing her closer pushing strands of matted hair from her forehead with shaking hands.

Frowning George shrunk back turning his head at the sound of feet crunching on broken glass. "Oh thank Gods, Percy," George sighed. "Someone notified the Ministry."

"Great Merlin what happened here?" Percy asked, perusing the shop as Neville appeared behind him.

Exasperated at his brother's casual arrogance George leveled him with a glare. "Obviously Hermione's been assaulted and she needs to be taken to St. Mungo's."

"Well, I'll send someone else down here George, but you can get her to the hospital. I'm actually here for Malfoy. Seems he's not as serious about bettering himself as we first believed." Percy strode forward to stand and glare down at the prisoner who he considered the most distasteful he'd ever encountered.

"If it wasn't for the fact that you'd been at the twins' shop all day I might be inclined to think you'd done this to Hermione as well as murder her parents," Percy said, his lips curling into a mirthless grin. "I must say I'm finally glad to have this all over with. It's such a shame it took so long for you to finally reveal your true character."

"Percy, can this wait!" George sighed, settling back down beside Malfoy and Hermione.

"Come along Malfoy," Percy said, obviously pleased with himself and leaning down a hand, grasping Draco's shoulder. "Don't make this difficult. Let Miss Granger go, and we'll discuss your affinity for repeating your crimes at the Ministry."

"Get your fucking hands off of me," Draco growled the warning, turning a vengeful glare upon the Junior Minister.

"Mr. Longbottom, restrain him," Percy shrugged, stepping back and waving his hand. "George don't you think you should be getting Hermione some assistance."

Not sure why he was trying to be cautious, or helpful, George lightly touched Draco's arm. "I'm going to take her to the hospital. Now I don't what this other bollocks Percy's spewing is, but…"

"There were three witnesses to the crime last night in which one Mr. David Granger and one Mrs. Victoria Granger were murdered. All descriptions fit Mr. Malfoy to the letter. Now, be a good man George, worry about Hermione and let me see to my own affairs," Percy loftily said, still smirking at Draco, almost salivating at the moment he would see him chained to a wall in the Ministry again.

When Draco met George's eyes he seemed to be searching for some sincerity at the other man's claim. "Directly to the hospital," he said, sounding worried and authoritative all at once.

"Yes, now…" George was about to have Draco's cooperation when Percy interceded.

"Let her go. You've caused her enough pain for the time being wouldn't you say?" Percy taunted, and stalked forward again when Neville didn't pounce on Draco quickly enough for his liking.

Percy jerked Draco by the arm roughly when he wasn't expecting the contact, almost sending Hermione to the floor had George not been near. Gathering Hermione up and standing George stepped out that way when Malfoy whirled wildly on Percy. With an inhuman growl he lunged at the other man hands wrapped around his throat. Percy sputtered unused to physically defending himself. "Longbottom! Restrain him!"

Shaking his head, and secretly wishing Malfoy would actually leave some marks on the pretentious prat, Neville slowly walked over. Taking the sight in for longer than was necessary he finally uttered the spell. "Petrificus Totalus."

Neville breathed a sigh of relief when the spell actually worked and immobilized Malfoy effectively. He had been so focused on Percy he hadn't had the time to deflect or fight the spell in anyway. Percy sputtered a few more times before straightening his robes, and his normal cool air of disdain returned. "Take him to the Ministry and inform me when he's mobile again," he snapped, twirling on his heel and sweeping from the shop.

"George, please let me know when you've got Hermione safely to the hospital," Neville said, his eyes roaming over his friend in concern.

"Of course, now hurry along before Malfoy comes around at all. He might actually kill Percy this time," George said, situating Hermione more securely in his arms and raising his wand to Disapparate.

"George, no offense to your family in anyway," Neville said, watching Malfoy carefully but finding he was still rigid and unmoving on the floor. "I might just let him."