Chapter 24

"Girls claim this room!" Tonks called out and then she pulled Hermione into a bedroom just to the right of the tent entrance. She let the flap fall closed, separating them from the main living area, and then Hermione watched the older witch whip out her wand and start casting like crazy.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Privacy wards, security and intruder alerts," she smiled wryly at Hermione, "I'm an auror and we're in a campsite with 100,000 other witches and wizards who are bound to be drunk and unruly. I know Sirius has protections in place around the tent but I like to be cautious. And we need privacy for our girl time." She grinned and then flopped onto one of the beds.

Hermione regarded her: tattered jeans, a worn but fitted 'Rolling Stones' t-shirt that exposed her navel, combat boots, short spiky hot pink hair. She didn't look anything like what Hermione's roommates would have considered to be girly. It was great.

She really liked Tonks, though she hadn't had the opportunity to spend much time with her, just that night at the Black family dinner and then a couple of times when she'd come by the house to pal around with Harry whom she'd obviously become fond of. She was six years older than Hermione, confident in her own skin despite her nearly crippling clumsiness, and she was starting a career in an exclusive field. Hermione knew enough to realize that she must have been top of her class in all the core subjects to have gotten into auror training. But most of all, she appreciated that Tonks treated her as a friend and not a child. Hermione planned to stick close to her over the next few days, Harry and Ron were so excited and it made them quite raucous. It was a little too much for Hermione who was used to a quiet life at home with her parents or the Malfoys.

Hermione put her knapsack down and sat on the other bed. It was mid-morning. They'd gotten a portkey courtesy of the Minister that had a perfect arrival time- they had all day to explore the sights surrounding the stadium before the match started, but they hadn't had to get up terribly early. Ron had mentioned that his family portkey departed before sunrise and even they had been relatively lucky since some people had been here for more than a week.

"So, tell me about Leooooo," Tonks said suddenly, drawing the name out playfully.

Hermione was a little taken aback but she laughed. She couldn't imagine why the older witch would be interested in hearing about her teenage boyfriend. "How old are you and what is your fascination with my love life?"

"You're fourteen and you're practically engaged. I mean that," she pointed to Hermione's right hand, "is some serious bling. And my parents got serious pretty young too, but it's still so interesting to me. I mean you don't want to play the field a little? Plus, the way you blush when anybody brings him up is just too good not to do so as often as possible." Hermione immediately felt her cheeks heat and Tonks threw her head back and laughed. "I rest my case."

"Is that what you're doing? Playing the field?" Hermione deflected.

"I'm a junior auror, I barely have any social life at all. And what I have now is an improvement over the two years while I was in training. On top of that, there are only so many wizards who are okay dating a witch who has a career, especially one in such a male dominated field. So, I guess I'm just waiting for one to come along, but I'm not in a hurry."

"I hadn't considered that," Hermione responded. She knew that in a lot of ways the magical world was very old fashioned, but she'd grown up in a household with two working parents. She'd always assumed she'd have a career- a high powered one at that, she'd once dreamed of being both the Prime Minister and a doctor when she was a little girl. "I can't imagine Leo stopping me from doing anything I wanted to do," she said absentmindedly.

It was true, her happiness was paramount to Draco and she couldn't believe he would get in the way of anything that was important to her. But, then again, Malfoy women didn't work. Not that Narcissa sat around eating bonbons all day long, she was very busy running the Manor, doing charity work, and when she and Draco were home, overseeing their education. But neither did she have a typical career. Perhaps this was something she needed to discuss with Draco to make sure they were on the same page.

She shook herself out of her thoughts to find that Tonks was smiling softly at her. "You really love him, huh?"

Hermione just nodded, feeling a little choked up. Sometimes her feelings for Draco snuck up and overwhelmed her. She missed him.

"I'm happy for you girl," Tonks said, crossing the space between them, sitting on the bed next to Hermione and putting an arm around her shoulders. "But heads up, I think Harry's got a bit of an overprotective brother thing going on, you might want to watch out for that whenever they meet."

Hermione winced and wondered when that would ever happen.

They spent the day wandering the campsites surrounding the massive stadium. They met up with the rest of the Weasleys for a little while, perused the souvenir stands, and then eventually returned to the tent to dress for the match. Because they would be sitting in the Minister's box they had all brought nicer clothing than what Hermione would normally wear to a sporting match. She had a sophisticated suit and a new coat that she'd bought in France with her mother. She was quite excited to wear it- and the fact that she'd be seeing Draco for the first time in two weeks might have added to that.

Tonks had turned her hair emerald green in support of Ireland and when she'd seen Hermione eyeing it enviously she had offered to do the same for her. Instead, Hermione asked her to simply charm green streaks into her chestnut curls. She'd happily complied and Hermione thought that the effect was festive and cool but didn't take away from the elegance of the rest of her look or clash with her ivory suit. And she knew Draco would love it.

They arrived at the stadium early. Sirius, who had been like a kid in a candy store all day, had hurried them along. They got to the box before anybody other than the Minister and his wife. Hermione watched with a kind of shocked fascination as the man fawned all over Sirius and then Harry. Draco had described his family's meeting with him in detail, and the way he'd responded to Lucius and Narcissa, but she thought he'd been exaggerating.

Finally, after some uncomfortable introductions and attempted small talk by Fudge, they were allowed to settle into their row of seats. Tonks sat on one end, Hermione next to her, then Harry, Ron, Remus, Sirius, and Ted on the other end. The stadium began to fill and the excitement in the air swelled. At a slower pace, the rest of the seats in the box began to fill as well, mostly with other government officials and dignitaries from England, Ireland, and Bulgaria. By the time the match was just about ready to begin all of the seats were occupied except for the three in front of Tonks, herself and Harry. Her heart skipped a beat and then began to race when she realized what that meant. She was about to spend an entire quidditch match within touching distance of her boyfriend and his parents; which would have been fine, great even, if she was allowed to act like they were her boyfriend and his parents and not a hated school rival and a couple of strangers.

She wasn't surprised that they were down to the wire in arriving. Lucius liked to make an entrance. In fact, all three of the Malfoys had something of a flair for the dramatic and would be pleased to have all eyes on them when they finally made an appearance.

She was so attuned to Draco, she swore she felt him before she saw him and she automatically whipped her head around to look for him. Sure enough three blondes were making their way down the stairs towards the front of the box. Draco was staring at her and it was apparent that he had been before she'd ever turned around. The moment he caught her eye he deliberately brought one hand up and touched a finger to the side of his nose, their secret greeting. She surreptitiously returned the gesture and then rolled her eyes as she watched the Minister rush to great them and lead them to their seats.

Draco and Lucius were both dressed completely in black. And while they both wore muggle suits, Lucius' was a much more old fashioned cut and she was sure that Draco's recent forays into the muggle world had influenced his choice of something more modern. She wholeheartedly approved. He always looked handsome to her but the suit showed off his lithe build in a way robes never could. She'd thought earlier that Harry and Ron looked like they were playing dress up in their looked like the young, confident aristocrat that he was.

Narcissa, as usual, looked beautiful in deep purple. Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated chignon and she held her head high. The three of them cut an impressive figure, and if Hermione hadn't known them as well as she did she would have been thoroughly intimidated.

"Cousin," she heard Sirius greet Narcissa when the family walked into their row in front of him. "Lovely to see you," he finished sarcastically.

"Sirius, you're looking well," she responded, barely sparing him a glance, her words were pleasant but her voice was like ice.

Hermione suddenly had the strangest feeling that she was an actor in a play. Which, in a way, she was.

Harry bristled at her side and she put a comforting hand on his arm. Meanwhile, Fudge was looking back and forth between Sirius and Narcissa in confusion and then he began to redden as it apparently occurred to him that while the Malfoys may have been willing to do Sirius a favor in the name of family honor, things were still not exactly sanguine between the Houses of Malfoy and Black and he'd inadvertently committed a faux pas by seating them together.

But propriety must be maintained and he said nothing as Sirius began to introduce the members of his party to the Malfoys in turn. He waited to introduce her last, she was certain it was because he was enjoying this charade and wanted to build the anticipation as long as possible. When it was her turn she automatically executed a little curtsey in deference to their title. But when she looked up everybody was staring at her and she realized her mistake. In her quest to keep from looking overly familiar with them, she'd deferred to the training she'd received from Narcissa - training a muggle born wouldn't normally have had.

"He's a pureblood!" Tonks exclaimed, which was not the reaction Hermione had expected.

"Who is?" She frowned as she tried to ignore the feeling of so many sets of eyes watching her.

"Leo!"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably and wondered where she was going with this and what it had to do with her slip-up. "Is that a problem?" She replied testily, looking anywhere but at the three Malfoys. She was going to kill Sirius for putting her in this position.

Tonks literally waved her off. "Of course not," she snorted, "like I care about blood status. I've just been trying to figure it out because I noticed that you have pure blood manners. You have the kind of manners that my mum wishes I had! And I know you didn't learn them from Sirius- especially not just over the past two weeks So, you must have learned them from Leo, or more likely, his mum."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, Tonks had inadvertently just provided her with the perfect excuse, and it wasn't even a lie. "Well, yes, that's true. I live in the magical world now, she wanted me to fit in," she explained a bit defensively.

"Oh I didn't mean anything by it!" Tonks put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "When Mum married Dad she had to learn muggle etiquette. I was just curious about how you learned wizarding etiquette but I didn't want to bring it up because it seemed rude…" she trailed off, "I guess I kind of failed at that, huh? I'm sorry, this is why I failed every etiquette lesson with my mum and my grams."

"You would have been fine if you'd spent half the time you did complaining just listening to what they were trying to tell you," Ted quipped.

Hermione looked around and realized that everybody was still listening to their conversation. She willed herself not to look embarrassed and forced out a chuckle when Tonks pulled a face and blew a raspberry in her father's direction.

"Wait. Your boyfriend is a pureblood?" Ron interrupted incredulously.

"Yes," she sighed. What now?

"But you're a muggleborn," he responded, squinting at her like he did when they were playing chess and he couldn't figure out her strategy.

"What's wrong with that, my mum's a pureblood and my dad's a muggleborn," said Tonks, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And my dad was a pureblood and my mum a muggleborn." Hermione was surprised to hear Harry add.

Ron's ears reddened and he looked back and forth between them, panic in his eyes as he realized he was walking a fine line. "I just mean, what do you talk about? He wouldn't know anything about your muggle stuff."

Muggle stuff. Hermione felt her ire rise at his dismissive tone. But mainly she just felt disappointed. This kind of casual prejudice was all too common.

"Yes, we grew up in different worlds but we are capable of learning from each other. And there's more to our relationship than just our backgrounds," she explained, with all the patience she could muster. "He actually enjoys spending time in the muggle world. He learns from me, I learn from him. We're a good match." She couldn't help but flick her eyes in Draco's direction and was relieved to see that his family had turned around and taken their seats.

Ron looked at her with a sort of condescending sympathy. "You shouldn't get your hopes up though, Hermione. I know what you think that ring means, but if I'd known he was a pureblood I would have warned you. Most purebloods, you know the traditional kind, don't think they have to hold to promises they've made to muggleborns. Your parents don't have any magic to enforce it."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in outrage. "You're saying that my boyfriend, who you've never met, is what? Stringing me along?" She almost couldn't believe the nerve of him in suggesting such a thing.

He shrugged. "I'm your friend Hermione and I don't want to see you hurt so I'm telling you, he's probably using you."

Hermione felt something inside of her snap. And she wasn't even angry for herself. It was for Draco, for Lucius and Narcissa, for the risks they took for her, for the time they spent with her helping and training her. But mostly for the way that they loved her. How dare this petty boy come along and, under the guise of friendship, try and tear that down, try to make her doubt them?

"Why? Because I'm a muggleborn he couldn't possibly really want me?! Well you're wrong. He loves me. He-" she took a deep breath and centered herself before she blurted out something that she couldn't take back, like the wrong name. "Leo loves me and do you know what? So do his parents. They've welcomed me into their family and I'm so grateful for it. Leo is wonderful and I trust him more than anybody in the world. How dare you accuse him of such a thing?! He treats me like a princess."

"Not everybody can afford to buy witches things like that," he said snidely, eyes flicking to the hand which bore the ring she never took off.

"That's not what I was referring to. He's good to me, he's kind, and supportive. And he certainly wasn't trying to buy his way into my heart, he's just generous. But you don't know that because you don't know him, and that's just the point. Don't talk about things you know nothing about Ronald Weasley!"

He opened his mouth to retort but Sirius interrupted. "You'll do well to remember that Hermione is under my protection and I'd never allow her to be misused in the way you are suggesting. Question that protection again and you'll no longer be welcome in my home," Sirius said in a deadly calm voice, and there was something about the look on his face that showed just how dangerous he could be, if he so chose. "And if I ever hear you implying that Hermione is somehow less because of her blood status, you not being welcome in my home will be the least of your problems. Have I made myself clear?"

Ron's complexion went from bright red to white so quickly that even his freckles appeared faded. He just nodded vigorously. And then, as if on cue, the team mascots began to stream into the stadium.

0000000000

Using her.

Using her.

It was time for the Weasel to have some kind of major accident. Perhaps he could get confused, take a wrong turn, and fall off of a cliff. A really tall one into a deep body of water where they'd never find his body. His father would help him arrange it. Maybe his mother too. And that's when he felt her slip her hand into his and give it a squeeze. "This is not the time, my dragon," she said so quietly that he almost thought he'd imagined it. Sometimes it was annoying how well she understood him.

But then his witch started yelling at the Weasel, laying out a thorough and very Gryffindor defense of himself and his family. By the time she was finished he couldn't help it, he was smirking. Trusted him more than anybody. Treated her like a princess. He'd have to get her a bracelet to match her ring. Weasley's head might actually explode. And then the cherry on top was Sirius. Don't mess with a Black.

He was diverted by the mascots leading their respective teams into the arena. First, the Irish had brought leprechauns. They were amusing enough, though not nearly as amusing as watching the people around him fall all over themselves trying to catch the gold they tossed into the stands which would only disappear in a few hours. Weasley, in particular, seemed ignorant of the nature of leprechauns' gold, he hoped the tosser would be thoroughly disappointed by his empty pockets later.

But more interesting was what came next, accompanying the Bulgarian team: veela. They were beautiful, to be sure, and doing some kind of dance that was clearly magical and could become rather hypnotic, he supposed, if you watched long enough. But Draco couldn't really see what the big deal was. These were the creatures that were said to drive men into attempting insane feats in order to impress them? In fact, he could see several of the men around him flexing their muscles, posing like morons, even trying to jump out of the stands to get to them. He heard a commotion behind him and turned to see his cousin and Hermione restraining Potter.

The pieces fell into place. Hermione. Of course. He loved Hermione. He'd never even really wanted to look at another girl and these veela with their allure meant to falsely entice couldn't compare to the way he felt for her. He caught her eye and winked. Her eyes went wide as she took in his calm demeanour and she smiled at him beautifically. He turned back around and snuck a glance at his father who was also just sitting calmly. When he saw Draco looking at him he just rolled his eyes. Draco grinned to himself and waited for the teams to get on with it.

A couple of hours into the game when he'd ceased to be fascinated by the skill of the Irish chasers and the snitch didn't seem to be anywhere in sight he decided to see if he could finagle a few moments alone with his best friend. "I'm going to get something to eat," he told his parents loudly so that she was sure to overhear. His mother raised one eyebrow at him and he strongly suspected that she knew what he was up to, but she said nothing, and he took that as permission.

He stood up and turned all the way around before shuffling to the aisle. He moved slowly, hoping to catch her attention, and she finally looked up and met his eyes. He gave her a significant look and patted his chest with one hand: as always his mirror was stored there and he hoped she would understand that he wanted to talk. There was an almost preternatural understanding between the two of them most of the time, so he wasn't too concerned.

He made his way down the stairs to a concessions area and positioned himself so that he could see if anybody else emerged from the Minister's box. Sure enough, about five minutes later she appeared, her eyes darting around the space. She spotted him in moments and began to make her way over. He ducked behind a large pillar and waited for her to join him. The moment her slim figure appeared he pulled her into his arms.

"Draco!" She exclaimed, but she kept her voice quiet. "Should we be doing this? What if somebody sees?"

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Don't care," he murmured against her skin. "Anyway, we're well hidden and hardly anybody here knows us."

She sighed but leaned into him. "I've missed you."

"Remind me why we can't even talk on our mirrors again," he whined.

"Because you know it would be rude of me to erect privacy wards in Harry's house like I do at Hogwarts, and how would I explain that I needed to do it anyway? And given Harry's penchant for snooping with that cloak of his, it's just not worth the risk. His face is an open book, Draco, he can't keep our secret. Merlin, I nearly gave us away at least once tonight."

"I'm really beginning to resent the fact that it's a secret," he said, rubbing her back.

"Me too, and there's no end in sight."

There were a few beats of silence as they absorbed that stark truth.

"I wanted to beat Weasley to a bloody pulp earlier and I had to sit there and say nothing," he growled, tightening his grip on her waist.

"I swear I'm not trying to avoid the subject but I haven't seen you in more than two weeks, do we have to talk about Ron right now?"

"Excellent point." He turned his face so that he could kiss her neck, up to her mouth. One, two, three soft kisses to her lips. "I missed you too, by the way."

"Less than a week and we go back to Hogwarts," she sighed running her hands up and down his chest. "I like this suit."

"I'm glad. You look really hot." He picked up one of her hands and kissed her palm.

She was wearing an ivory suit with a fitted skirt that ended at her knees and a jacket that accentuated her curves. The whole outfit had silver thread running through the fabric that almost made it look like she shimmered. And then the green streaks she added through her hair which he never would have thought of, but loved. She looked like a Slytherin. It was all perfectly buttoned up and appropriate but he wasn't sure he'd ever been more attracted to her. She blushed.

He laughed. "Since when are you shy?"

"Tonks says I blush whenever you come up."

"Tonks?"

"Your cousin prefers to only be referred to by her surname"

"Why?"

"She hates her first name."

"Mother's going to hate that."

She grinned up at him. "That was my first thought too."

"You were blushing pretty good earlier." To his delight her cheeks reddened further. "So I'm wonderful?"

"You know I think you're wonderful. But don't let it go to your head."

He watched her fiddle with his tie. "And I do love you, you know."

"I do know." She looked up, "and I love you."

He held her in silence for a few minutes. "How are things going at Potter's? He treating you okay?"

"It's good. We've had fun, I'll tell you all about it when we get back to school."

He nodded, accepting that they didn't have time to get into it now. "I found out what's happening at Hogwarts this year that Mother and Father were being so squirrely about." Her eyes went wide and burned with curiosity, they'd been trying to figure this out for weeks. "I'll tell you all about it when we get back to school," he parroted.

She huffed but nodded, "we should get back."

He sighed but he knew she was right. "It feels wrong not to escort you back. You go first at least, I'd feel better if you weren't out here by yourself." She rolled her eyes and he could practically see her bite back a retort. But she didn't argue, just went up on her toes and gave him one last kiss. "Bye Draco."

She quickly pulled away and scurried off without looking back.

Three hours later after Viktor Krum, knowing his team could never catch up given the rate the Irish chasers were scoring, had caught the snitch and brought the match to an end, he was back in the tent with his parents settling in for the night. When, all of a sudden over the sounds of raucous celebration on one side, and people drowning their sorrows on the other, there were suddenly several deafening booms, and then screaming all around.

Draco dashed outside to see what was happening, closely followed by his parents. He felt his eyes go wide at the scene that greeted them and it took several long moments for him to truly understand what he was seeing. People in black robes and gleaming silver masks were making their way through the campsite leaving a path of destruction in their wake. They were preceded by the floating figures of the muggle family who owned the campsite. The black robed figures laughed as they toyed with the helpless family, tossing them around, obviously delighting in their terror. Draco's stomach lurched.

Death Eaters.

"Idiots!" He heard his father hiss. "I told them this was a foolhardy plan. What do they think they are accomplishing?"

Draco turned and met his eyes. The memory of that day in his father's study when Lucius had showed them his Dark Mark came rushing back and it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was one of them. Draco turned and ran.

He didn't make it far, perhaps twenty feet before he felt arms wrapping around him like steel bands, familiar arms. And a familiar voice telling him to calm down, telling him they couldn't be out here, telling him he couldn't go anywhere. He didn't care, he fought with everything he had. He needed to get to Hermione, he couldn't trust anybody else to protect her. Not Sirius, not any of her stupid, clumsy friends, not his cousin who he'd never met, not even his own parents. That much was clear now.

His mother called his name. He ignored her and clawed at his father's arms. How dare he try and stop him after what he'd done? That mark on his arm was the reason she was in danger.

He felt his magic begin to pulse with a kind of grim satisfaction. It wouldn't let Hermione come to harm either. And they wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Narcissa," he heard his father yell desperately, it sounded like it was coming from very far away even though he knew he was right there with his arms around him, "Narcissa, he's losing control of his magic! He'll hurt himself. He can't go running off like this! Narcissa you need to do it now!"

He didn't know what that meant until he heard his mother quietly sob: "Stupefy." Everything went black.

Author's Note: Yes, I know it's a cliffhanger. I also know that's frustrating, but please don't vent that frustration on me, I assure you that there are important storytelling reasons for stopping things here. I'd like to thank Weestarmeggie for beta reading, I've made some changes since she had this so all mistakes are mine. I'd also like to thank all of you for supporting this story: your enthusiasm, your thoughts, even your criticisms are so appreciated. Things are picking up in intensity and I hope to start getting updates out at a slightly faster pace now that they are.

I've posted a new story called 'A Second Look.' I'd love for you to check it out, though I've already seen many of you over there. Since a lot of people have asked there will be an update for that one on Saturday. And as always, thanks for reading!