A/N: Love you all a million times over. Thank you for waiting for me, and your endless support.
xoxo, carm
There were not many times where Hermione Granger was terrified.
Granted, there were a few she could list off the top of her head: Harry coming back from the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, the moment she got Petrified, and the Quidditch World Cup – even if only for a moment.
Right now, she was feeling like she could add this moment to that very short list. Her heart was in her throat, her pulse was racing, and her cheeks felt hot with anticipation.
She was going to tell Harry. The full truth – everything she'd been successfully keeping in the shadows for months.
Ron, for now, was blissfully unaware that anything had been going on with her. She assumed that wouldn't last much longer, especially with what she was going to be asking for in the near future.
But she needed to start laying the groundwork to get Draco out of this situation safely and this was the only way to successfully go about that.
Steeling her nerves, she approached him in the crowded hallway. Catching him off guard, she grabbed his arm and flung him into a nearby empty classroom. She looked at his bewildered expression and took a deep breath.
"We need to talk."
"Okay…" Harry said hesitantly. "What about?"
"So…" she started. "You know how the whole plan to figure out what Malfoy's up to was my idea, right?" She was fidgeting with a stray thread on her jumper, twisting it around her finger so that the tip of it turned a dark red as it suffocated under the pressure.
"Yes…" he said slowly, drawing out the word in question.
"Well," she stammered. Taking a shaky breath, she continued on. "It sort of, kind of, maybe backfired. Just a little bit." Hermione sped through her words, hoping that if she got them out fast enough, he may not have heard them.
Harry's silence was deadly. "Backfired, how?" he asked gently.
"I sort of, kind of, maybe, developed… real feelings," she replied, reflexively tugging at the thread so hard it snapped off.
She hurriedly took a glance at his face to gauge his reaction, and she was met with shock. His face was frozen, white as a sheet. His mouth gaped once or twice as he finally found the words. "You… Malfoy… Death Eater? What?" He shook his head so hard his glasses scooted down his nose. "You're serious?"
Hermione nodded slowly, brows furrowed. "Yeah."
He let out a long, low breath. "Wow. Uh, alright then." Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier than it normally was. "Uh, how– how exactly did that happen?" Stopping himself, he defensively held up his hands in her direction and squinted his eyes shut. "Never mind, I've decided I don't want to know."
Despite herself, Hermione giggled. "Don't overthink it," she chastised knowingly. "I promise it's legit. So legit, that I'm here. Telling you."
"Does he..?" Harry trailed off uneasily as he considered the prospect of his best friend and his archenemy being an item.
Hermione understood his implication immediately. It was hard not to, with their whole history. "I… I think so." If she were being honest, she really wasn't completely sure. For all of the displays that he put on, she still wasn't one hundred percent sure if he were putting on an act instead.
She let herself be vulnerable. "But, Harry, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter to me. Regardless of the fact that this may be all an act, it doesn't mean I want to see him go down for this." Hermione bit at her lip. "I need to make sure I do the right thing."
Harry looked at her, his eyes growing soft and his brow furrowing as he took in her slightly slumped posture. Reaching his arms out, he grabbed onto her shoulders. "I know," he said. "Seems like we need to figure out what the right thing is, yeah?' His lips quirked up into a smile.
He was taking this very well. She was almost suspicious, but at the same time she knew that that was just Harry. He had such a big heart, and while he was oftentimes quick to jump to conclusions, he could occasionally get something right.
Her expression grew solemn. "I know there's a lot you want to say, and questions you want to ask, and I promise we'll get there." She chewed on her lip, hesitating – hoping she wasn't about to burst the bubble. "But first… I need to ask you for a favor."
Why did she constantly get herself into these kinds of situations? Although, if she were being honest with herself, she was much less worried about Ron's reaction than she had been Harry's. She knew what to expect from Ron.
But nevertheless, she brought Harry along with her for support. And selfishly, to back her story up – even though she knew it was a cop out..
The conversation went relatively similar to how her talk with Harry went. Although she'd had to explain the whole backstory as to how she'd fallen for Malfoy in the first place. Ron had been more upset at being left out than anything. "Why didn't you tell me?" he'd asked.
"Well, it wasn't really that important," Hermione had protested. "It was just surveillance, reconnaissance. We were just gathering information." And in her defense, that had been true.
"Yes it was important! Or you wouldn't have hidden it from me!" he'd shouted, offended.
"We were hiding it from everybody!" she'd retaliated. "We didn't tell a soul," she'd said as she pulled a face. "Well – Ginny knew."
"My own sister?!" he yelled, getting up in face a bit. "You told my little sister over me?"
"Well, you were all wrapped up with Lavender!" she had said. "You wouldn't have looked up unless I would have mentioned something involving Quidditch, mealtimes, or Lavender. Harry, back me up on this!" she pleaded.
"Yeah, what's that about anyway?" he retaliated, completely ignoring all of the pseudo-insults she'd thrown his way. "Why did you pair up with him? He's horrible at strategy and you know it!"
"Hey!" came Harry's protest from the corner. "I am not!" He was doing his best to argue, even though everyone in the room knew it to be completely true. "I won that one chess game once," he'd mumbled. "Remember, Ron?"
"What year?" Ron asked, going off on a tangent. "I very vaguely remember this happening, but also not really at all if you really think about it," Ron said. "I feel like it may have been a fever dream, mate," he said sheepishly. "Sorry to admit it."
"What?" Harry said, outraged, throwing his hands up. "I definitely won it! You don't know what you're talking about."
Hermione had cut in, hands slicing through the air as she interrupted their side conversation. "Enough!" Her voice was loud and clear, startling everyone in the room. "You two are acting so childish. Can we please just get in one, simple conversation? And then you two can duke it out over who's more strategic?"
"But he–"
"Hermione, that's not–"
"No, I–"
"Shut it, all of you!" Ginny yelled as she materialized and shoved her hands in between them as the protesting recommenced. "Relax, you're not getting anywhere like this."
"Ginny?" Hermione asked. "Where'd you come from?"
"I could hear you lot all the way in the hallway. Next time, use a silencing charm. It would benefit everyone in the Tower," she'd said, rolling her eyes.
Hermione sighed. "You have a point." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, getting back to the conversation at hand. "But he still doesn't need to be screaming. I can understand why he's mad, but his level of volume is unnecessary."
"Well, regardless, you all need to shut. Up," Ginny had said. "Relax for Godric sake. You won't get past this, or anywhere near solving this if you don't all work together and actually talk about everything.."
"She is right, as much as I hate to admit it," Ron said sheepishly. Hermione watched as he heaved a heavy sigh, realizing what he had to do. His eyes met hers as they darted between the two opposite him. "Okay, catch me up to speed."
Well, that had been easier than expected. Maybe he hadn't really come to terms with it yet, but she would worry about that later. For now, she had a failsafe to set.
Hermione didn't often feel out of control, but this was one exception.
She felt slightly sick to her stomach, the way it was all tied up in knots made her think that she truly needed to worry about her health. But she knew that it was all in her head. She had a lot to deal with – she needed to get the boys back on the same page that she was; not to mention, she still had to sit down with everyone and try to convince Harry that Draco wasn't a true threat.
That was undoubtedly going to be an interesting conversation.
Truth be told, she was definitely concerned. She didn't know how Harry would take it when he was finally caught up to speed, and she figured that Ron would only fight it because of the Malfoy-Weasley long standing family feud. But regardless of all of that history, she knew that she had something she needed to fight for.
Hermione realized with a start that she would inevitably go down fighting. The unknown part of that equation was who it would be. The last thing she wanted was to go against the boys for anything, but if it came down to it, she knew that she would
And she'd been fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters for the better part of five years. That wouldn't be a new battle, but having a new ally on her side, someone – something – new to fight for would be a complete curveball.
Coming to terms with everything, she knew that the first thing on her list was that she desperately needed to get through to the boys.
Truth be told, everyone was upset with each other. She was upset with Ron (although she knew that he wasn't exactly overreacting), Ron was upset with both her and Harry, and Draco was upset with... well, everybody. She had yet to see a Draco Malfoy who wasn't sulking, brooding, or angsty.
She huffed indignantly to herself, sucking the side of her cheek in as she bit on it. Knowing Draco, that was more unlikely than Voldemort actually managing to kill Harry.
Regardless, Ron's perceived betrayal was hurting their progress, and they didn't have time for delays like this. Granted, it was technically her fault if you really thought about it, but she pushed that out of her mind. That was not the thing that she needed to be focusing on right now.
Taking one more deep breath, she decided that she needed to get herself together. Sitting up and walking over to her mirror, she stared at herself in the eyes.
"I am Hermione Granger," she said at her reflection. "I can do anything. Including dealing with these complete morons even though all I'm trying to do is help." She pushed a stray hair out of her face, setting her shoulders back and lifting her chin just a touch. Enough to find herself again.
Posture really did wonders for her confidence.
She turned around and marched out of the bathroom, preparing herself. She had some bridges to mend.
Draco felt sick in his stomach, but this wasn't a new feeling for him. In fact, this was slowly turning into his constant state. The rare occasions during which he actually felt normal and healthy were the ones he was most scared of – because that meant he had stopped thinking about what he was supposed to be doing. And that would mean he was failing.
Although, by now he could consider the entire mission a failure in some way. It was a miracle he hadn't been found out yet, even though he was perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he wouldn't be worrying about that today, or hopefully for the foreseeable future after what would take place today.
He had to sit down and try to make nice with Potter today. He knew from a small spot deep within his soul that he was doing the right thing. Draco had been questioning everything for a while and this seemed the most logical choice. The safest choice for both of them. And somehow, the idea of the two of them together had become more important than the idea of him standing alone. It was a revelation that had shaken him to his core, and it had led him to the actions he was taking now.
A memory flashed before his eyes: his own small, outstretched hand. Contrary to what was most likely believed, he had been so nervous then, he remembered, and it had been a challenge to stop his hand from shaking ever so slightly. He had been nervous at the prospect of so many what-ifs, the possibilities and opportunities that he had wanted so badly to be good ones. It had all gone downhill from there, and now it was backfiring on him in the only way that mattered.
He hated that he had to ask Potter for help, but he knew this was the only way out. Draco had to put everything on the line and hope to whatever deity existed that it would pan out for him. He had to take the risk and stretch out his hand again, and he couldn't be sure that his plea would be heard. This was his last – his only – resort, and he was terrified to think that he may be experiencing a repeat performance here. The thought that every aspect of his life was held in Potter's clumsy hands made his stomach turn again. He knew that he could get shot down by the same person that changed the course of his entire life.
In a sick way, that encounter was a catalyst for the rest of his life. Draco was praying that it would set only good things into motion. Maybe he could make things right this time.
They were seated in the Room of Requirement in a circular arrangement – Weasley and Potter across from him, Granger on his left between himself and Weasley, and Theo and Blaise on his right.
"So," Blaise quipped as he leaned back and spread his arms around the back of his chair. "I assume you know why we're here."
Potter and Weasley looked confused. "No, actually," Weasley admitted, "we don't." He then looked to Granger, whose lip was already worried between her teeth.
"So..." she started.
Draco cut in, leaning forward. "Granger and I have an idea, if you will. And it's a little outlandish, so we would appreciate it if you could try to keep an open mind."
"We? Since when do Hermione and Malfoy use the word 'we'?" Ron muttered to Harry under his breath. Hermione silenced him with a harsh glare that said 'we talked about this'. Ron cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
"As I was saying," Draco drawled in his pristine voice, "we have been discussing certain issues, and have come to the conclusion that..." he hesitated, suddenly sounding unsure. "We need your help."
He found it somewhere deep within him to meet Potter's eyes. "Without saying too much, I got myself into a bit of a tight situation," he said. "And I need to... get out of it," he finished lamely before adding quickly, "And it goes without saying that Theo and Blaise come with me."
Hermione cut in then. "I won't give you any details, so don't ask me for them. But we've stumbled across some very valuable information, and it only works if Draco gets out of it unscathed." She was so entirely adamant in her conviction that no one thought to question her. "Also, you're not high enough security clearance within the Order to know this information anyway."
"What?" Harry protested. "But I'm literally the bloody Chosen One!"
"Exactly," Hermione replied. "But because of that, Voldemort can see into your mind. And not to mention, you're complete shit at Occlumency."
"I could teach him," Draco blurted out. "Provided, of course, that we can come to some sort of agreement."
"And just where do I fit into this?" Theo cut in. "I hate being talked about like I'm not even here," he sulked.
Draco continued on as if he hadn't heard him, which he knew he would get shit for later. "Theo, Blaise, and I are obviously a package deal. They both have connections to the inner circle," Draco watched as Theo flinched, "and they can give us information on top of what I'm planning on providing."
Potter replied exactly as expected. "And why should I believe you?" he asked accusingly. "How do I know that you're not going to stab us in the back?"
"You don't," Draco said honestly. "But you should expect better than anyone that I have my own self interest at heart more than anyone else's," Hermione's turn to flinch, "and if I were to go ahead and do that, I'd have both sides of the war on my arse. And what good would that do me?" he asked, shaking his head. "No, I have no interest in double crossing you, Potter."
"And what's Hermione's place in all of this?" he asked. "Is she going to wind up in the crossfire? I refuse to let anything happen to her." Potter defensively crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "You, however, I can bear to part with."
Draco snorted. It slipped out – he couldn't help it. "Do you think there is any world where I let anything happen to her? That there is any world in which she is not mine to care for?" His eyes burned at Potter as he seethed, only slightly registering Hermione next to him. He couldn't help but continue. "Your rage would hold no candle to mine, Potter. If anyone harmed so much as a hair on her head, the last horizon they would ever see would be their eyes sliding shut on their mortality." He was inhaling sharply through his nose, chasing after the oxygen that had slipped away from him during his tirade.
The room went silent. They all flinched as they registered Weasley's wand dropping to the floor in shock. Then, he let out a low whistle. "Well," he said as he leaned to pick it up, "I don't think anyone could lie that convincingly, not even Malfoy. That was intense, mate." Everyone jolted out of their reveries as they came back to themselves.
"Nice, Weasley. You just ruined a spectacular moment," Blaise said. "Maybe he was about to propose."
Five heads whipped back towards Draco.
"You… weren't about to, were you mate?" Theo almost whispered with wide eyes.
Draco's mouth dropped. "No!" he exclaimed. "That would be a little much for right now, don't you think?" He snipped cocked a brow at his friend.
Theo seemed to return to himself. "Right, right, not the right setting at all. And you didn't even ask me for any ring advice, which means it's automatically an awful choice." He sniffed, turning his nose up in the air.
"Too far, mate," Draco grimaced.
"You think?" Theo whispered.
"Just a touch."
"Oh, okay," came Theo's reply.
"Anyways," Hermione said, drawing out the word to bring their attention back. "What do you all think? I mean, we'll have to come up with a proper plan, but right now, all I'm concerned with is finding them a way out."
Harry heaved a heavy sigh as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Opening his eyes, he said, "Listen, I know that we're going to have a hell of a time convincing the Order that you're being honest with us, but at least now you have me on your side," Potter said, and then his eyes narrowed as his finger raised to point accusingly at the blonde across from him. "But if you're lying, and we catch wind of it, you're dead Malfoy."
"I can assure you that won't be necessary," Draco said coolly, leaning back in his seat. He fought an eye roll, knowing that wouldn't help his case. However, he really despised how dramatic he could get.
Pursing his lips, he watched as Potter suddenly relaxed and heaved a sigh as he said, "Then I'm in."
And when Potter stuck his hand out, his demeanor changed again as he smirked a little as he said, "I know it's technically your turn to leave me hanging, but in your case, I would strongly advise against it. Plus, I know it's absolutely killing you to miss out on this opportunity."
Gritting his teeth, he acknowledged for the second time tonight – and the second time in his entire life – that Potter was right.
