A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this out (well, not really, but…yeah). I'm going through a pretty traumatic time right now, as my boyfriend of almost nine months just broke up with me. But…I'm dealing with it. Kinda. Well, I'll keep writing as much as I can.
CHAPTER 5: Ginny
Hermione woke up with a start. She'd just had the most horrible dream. The first and only thing her startled eyes noticed was the complete and utter darkness. Content, she fell back onto her pillow, closing her eyes again. She stretched lazily, and stopped when she noticed her arms were touching bed all around. This wasn't her bed; it was too big to be. Her eyes flew open in startled surprise.
This time, her eyes saw that what she'd taken as utter darkness before was just very dim light. As her eyes adjusted, she also noted that the comforter appeared to be a deep green, though it looked nearly black in the light. The curtains were an exquisite shade of slate gray that let very little light in. Slowly, she sat up, grimacing at a monstrous headache. Cradling her head with one hand, she pushed aside the curtains.
The room scrambled to arrange itself between the parted curtains. But Hermione was more interested in the hand that pulled back the curtain. It was the deep red of dried blood, flecked with pale spots. Her stomach lurched when she realized it was her own arm. She swung her legs out of bed and stood.
The white dress. It was the same from her dream. Only, she realized, it hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. Staring at the blood-spattered white gown made her flesh crawl.
"Oh!" said a startled voice, "You're up." Hermione looked across the room to see Malfoy. He stuffed the last bite of what looked like eggs-on-honey-on-toast in his mouth as he approached her. "Hungry?" he said when he'd swallowed. Her eyes merely widened in disgust at the thought of food. "No? I thought not."
Malfoy looked her over then, and a concerned look quashed his eyebrows together. "You probably want to change and wash up." Hermione just looked up at him, unable to speak. Had she really tortured someone?
The pale boy took her elbow and led her through a door into a bathroom. Malfoy knelt to turn on the facets, and Hermione just walked down into the bathtub. It wasn't pool-sized, but it was big, and with magical help, she was soon standing in warm water up to her breasts. Dumbly, she stood there, as the water around her turned red from her dress and arms. Malfoy beckoned to her from the side, and she waded to him.
The young boy handed her a washcloth and a bar of soap. When Hermione merely stared stupidly at the items, he gave a sort of growl and grabbed her arm. With a resigned sigh, he settled in and began to wash her off.
Hermione obediently did what Malfoy said, turning when he told her to, and dunking herself as well. "Nearly done," he said encouragingly. "Now, if you could just turn to me, and I'll get your face…" like a well-trained dog, she did, and he didn't meet her eyes as he ran the washcloth over her cheeks. Blushing slightly, but staying impassive, he washed above the neckline of the dress too, knowing she hadn't the state of mind to do so herself.
"I really did it, didn't I?" she croaked, voice hoarse from disuse. Still not meeting her eyes, Malfoy nodded. Groaning, her knees collapsed under the water. Her head cracked down on the edge of the tub as she went down.
Hermione suddenly felt her arms being lifted. Spluttering, she was dragged out of the tub nearly before her mind realized she'd been submerged. "Hermione?" a voice called frantically. "Hermione? Are you okay?"
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting pale, worried gray ones. "Malfoy?" she asked in confusion. She still couldn't grasp the fact that she'd tortured someone to death, her head hurt like an anvil had been dropped on it, and she must have a hearing problem, because she would have sworn she had just heard Malfoy call her Hermione.
"Oh, Granger," she heard Malfoy sigh in relief. She closed her eyes again, and then felt the world lurch. Startled, she gasped and opened them again to see only darkness. Alarmed, she squirmed before she realized she was being carried. So what she was looking at must be…Malfoy's shirt. He grunted a little, and she dropped slightly.
Afraid she may be dropped completely (though she had merely gone to a slightly lower height), Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, shoving her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder so she wouldn't have to look. But then she was being held higher again…being turned around…her curiosity got the better of her, and she lifted her head.
A door that was why they'd paused and she'd been dipped lower (that must've been when he was fumbling with the knob). Hermione looked around. They were back in the first room.
Malfoy set her gently on the bed. He strode to where he'd left his breakfast tray and brought it over to her. "Eat," he ordered. Then his face softened, "At least a little. I'll be back, I'm going to find you some clean clothes."
Hermione picked at a piece of toast in Malfoy's absence. Her mind was perfectly blank, unwilling to believe she'd tortured someone. But then, finally, her mind made the jump. With the sudden rush of realization came an equally sudden rush of nausea. She leaned over the side of the bed, retching violently. Slowly, she pulled herself back into a sitting position. She fumbled for the wand on the nightstand, cleaning up the mess just as Malfoy walked in.
"It's crazy out there. Apparently," he said in an annoyed tone through gritted teeth, "the Death Eaters stayed up all night celebrating the rise of their Dark Lady. Half of 'em are bumbling around with hangovers, another half are still asleep where they dropped last night, and a few" –he heaved a pile of clothes on the bed– "a few are even still drinking. Took me forever to find your clothes. Mum exploded when I asked her where they were. Something about how you should be wearing that dress all bloodied up with your head held high and whatnot."
Rather surprised by the unexpected rush of words, Hermione took a moment to clear her head. "Your mum," she said, pushing away the tray and picking up the stack of clothing, "is quite mad." She pulled herself off the bed and as she shut the door to the bathroom, she thought she saw Malfoy smother a chuckle at her comment.
Hermione stripped off the red-speckled dress with a shudder of relief. She dried herself off with a big fluffy black towel before donning her "sneaking around" garb that she'd worn both times she'd been to Malfoy Manor. She wrapped her dripping hair in the towel, then went back into the other room to ask for a brush.
Shocked, Hermione stopped in the doorway, and her breath caught. Malfoy wasn't wearing a shirt. She wondered why she hadn't noticed how beautiful he was last time he hadn't been wearing a shirt. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he flipped through the clothing in a wardrobe. With a snarl of annoyance, he strode across the room to a chest of drawers, opening two and rifling through them before he found what he wanted.
Realizing what (correct) conclusions he would jump to if he caught her staring at him, Hermione gave a slight cough as he covered himself with a shirt. "Two things," she said to his questioning glance, "What time is it, and is there a brush I can use?" she indicated the towel wrapped around her hair.
Malfoy looked to the ceiling. Her gaze followed his to see a huge clock there. "Nearly 10 to your first question, and yes to your second." He led her back into the bathroom and opened a drawer. It had several types of brushes and two combs. "I usually just use the combs, but you can feel free to use the brushes," he said, walking back into the other room. His room, she realized. She picked a brush and began to remove the tangles from her hair.
Harry slammed his goblet down on the table. No Hermione. Again. Where did she keep going off to! He turned to Lavender, who had just given him the information. "Can you try to figure out what she's doing? As well as report back to me the second she gets back? And if you can't do the first, at least do the second for me." The girl nodded and bounced back to Parvati, giggling.
Ron looked furious while Harry rubbed his temples. "How could she do this again?" Ron snarled.
Ginny sauntered over, sitting next to Harry. She looked from one boy to the other. "Hermione's gone again?" she asked emotionlessly. Harry nodded, and Ginny got right back up to march over to Lavender and Parvati, holding a whispered conversation. Ginny came back frowning.
"Why are you guys so mad?" she asked.
Ron answered before Harry could, "She's our friend, Gin. Wouldn't expect you to understand, but we're worried about her." Ginny shot him a sour look.
"What I meant, was, that I just talked to them. All they said is that she was gone this morning when they woke up. She may have gotten up earlier than them and gone to the library or something." The younger girl frowned again. "Did you two even check the library?"
Simultaneously, Harry and Ron stood. Ginny looked alarmed. "You two can't go off to look for her like this! If she is in the library and you two just storm in, what will she think? You guys need to calm down before you see her. Finish your breakfasts, and cool off. I'll go find her," she turned on her heel and swept away.
Ron looked at Harry, begging him with his eyes to let the two of them ignore Ginny's warning and go find her anyway. "No," Harry said reluctantly. "She's right." Slowly, he went back to his food.
Ginny dashed up to Gryffindor tower. She had precious little time, and she knew it, but she had to try. As soon as she knew Hermione was gone, she'd had this mindless need to save her from Harry and Ron's anger. It was a premonition, of sorts. Something that Harry and Ron could not find out, but would if she didn't intervene now. She still wasn't sure why she was doing this, but she knew she would try her hardest to accomplish her goal:
Save Hermione Granger's skin.
Sweating and panting, she gave the password and slid into the common room. She scrambled up the stairs recklessly, and entered Harry and Ron's dormitory. She rummaged through Harry's trunk carefully until she found what she was looking for: an old piece of blank parchment.
She tapped it with her wand, nervously saying, "I solemnly swear that…I'm being bad?" Nothing. Licking her lips, she tried again, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good?" This time, lines oozed across the page, and she knew she'd gotten it right.
Frantically, knowing she was out of time, she located Hermione walking across the grounds, then froze. A dot labeled "Draco Malfoy" was walking beside her. Ginny despaired. She couldn't tell Harry or Ron about this. She'd used Harry's map without permission, and they wouldn't forgive her for that.
Blackmail, though, Ginny thought maliciously. And then she realized, this is what I needed to protect her from them for. She has a secret, and it's Draco Malfoy. This was my premonition. I knew they couldn't find out about it, even though I didn't know what it was yet.
"Mischief managed," she murmured, tapping the map again. She put it back exactly where she'd found it and raced to head Hermione off. She would ask about Malfoy after she'd gotten her friend out of this mess.
In the companionable silence, Granger seemed to grasp at something that had been bothering her. "Malfoy…the way you spoke this morning, it sounded like you hadn't known that the Death Eaters had stayed. But…how could you not?"
Draco let his broomstick drift a little farther from the girl. He wondered if he should tell her the truth, deciding against it. "I fell asleep after taking you upstairs," he lied. She looked up at him sharply, scanning his face. He held his ground, not about to admit that he'd stayed up long after she'd fallen into a real sleep just to watch her.
He had loved the gentle frown on her face as she dreamed, though he'd loved it even more when she had smiled softly and curled up on her side. He was not about to tell her he had stayed up nearly all night (he had snuck in one and a half hours of sleep sometime between 3 and 5 in the morning), content to watch her sleep. He had gotten a lot of thinking done that night. Caught up in his thoughts, he barely realized when they reached the doors. "I'm going to fly a bit," he said. "I'll see you later." Without giving her a chance to answer, he sped off.
Ginny met Hermione at the front doors, panting. Malfoy was out flying, and Hermione looked a bit ruffled. Maybe they hadn't been walking together as companions, and it had been Hermione on the ground while Malfoy badgered her from the air.
But then why had she felt the need to help Hermione?
No, it fit that Hermione and Malfoy were sleeping together, and she didn't want to tell Harry and Ron. Well, it didn't entirely fit Hermione, but she'd come back from summer different. And, where the boys did not listen to all, Ginny did. She knew Malfoy had also been out on September 26th. And she also knew Malfoy's birthday had been the week before that, only two days before Hermione's. It was possible they had been birthday presents for each other. She felt sick at the thought.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked concernedly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Hermione, Harry and Ron will be looking for you by now. I won't ask questions now, but you'd better expect them later." Ginny paused to think. "The owlery. I know a shortcut. Whatever happens, play along, and don't say anything until after we've gotten past Harry and Ron." Hermione followed her lead quietly, probably suspecting that Ginny knew more than she let on.
From the owlery, they silently began to head for the library, meeting up with Harry and Ron halfway there. Both the boys were fuming, but when they caught sight of her with Hermione, their expressions cooled a little bit to merely look livid (it really wasn't much of an improvement). Ginny sighed inwardly. It would have to do.
"Where—" Ron exploded, but Ginny cut him off.
"She was in the owlery. You fools, I told you she probably hadn't left the castle. She was sending something to her mum. Really, you two should have listened to me," Ginny interjected matter-of-factly.
Ron's jaw dropped and Harry's brilliant eyes smoldered. "You said she was probably in the library. Madam Pince said she hadn't seen her all day, and it can't have possibly taken Hermione an hour to mail something to her mum," Harry said smartly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "She obviously went to take a bath first. Can't you tell? Her hair isn't even dry yet," she thought up quickly. It was true enough, Hermione's hair was still wet, but she wasn't sure if it was from a bath or dew from the lush grass around Hogwarts, or from a plunge in the lake or something else.
The two older boys narrowed their eyes, but looked Hermione over. Ginny breathed a mental sigh of relief, as they both seemed to accept her points as true. "You scared us both to death, Hermione. You should have told us where you were going," Harry said quietly. Ginny nearly panicked at the look in his eyes. He obviously knew something else was going on here, though it was clear he didn't know what.
"What? Are you two now trying to be my father?" Hermione said shrilly. "I don't have to report everything I do to you guys! I'm allowed to take baths early in the morning if I want, and I should be allowed to send a letter to my mum without you two blowing up because I didn't mention that I needed to reply to a letter she'd sent me! Or am I not allowed to even go to the library anymore without your permission?" she asked snottily. Ginny mentally congratulated her, she was doing this perfectly.
Hermione spun away on her heel, and Ginny looked at the boys. "I warned you to cool off before you found her. Now look what's happened." This was perfect; now they would listen to her next time she told them something (she had proved right this time, why not next time?) and she also had a way to get Hermione to do her bidding, at the risk of her telling Harry and Ron about her nighttime wanderings with Malfoy.
Smirking, Ginny set off to find something to do with this information.
Hermione headed to the library to write an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was currently being taught by Dumbledore, who was assigning essays and having them practice their defenses against each other every Wednesday under his supervision. He kept hinting, though, that the newest DADA professor would be arriving any day now to take their post back from him.
Her mind wandered as she wrote the essay, and after about an hour, her hand stopped writing altogether and she stared off at a bookcase. Malfoy hadn't been telling the truth, she knew that. She didn't know what the truth was, but it wasn't what he'd said. She mulled over the fact that he'd carried her up all the way to his room alone (or at least that's what he'd insinuated, and she suspected he had, seeing as he'd carried her from the bathroom to his room as if she weighed nothing).
Oh no, she thought. Against all odds, we've become friends. She slammed her head against the table in frustration, earning herself a disapproving look from Madam Pince. We knew we couldn't become friends, but that's what we are. How could they not be friends after what they'd been through? But they couldn't. They both knew they couldn't be friends.
Yet that was what they were.
Only a friend would have carried her up all that way to their room. Only a friend would have patiently washed her off. Only a friend would have such a stupid contest with her about gross foods. Only a friend would have done any of that. And if she weren't his friend too, she wouldn't have let him. This wasn't good. They needed to talk and work this out. They needed to become enemies again, somehow.
Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand so that she could do a quick little spell to cut off a spare bit of parchment from her essay. It was already half a foot too long anyway. Her eyes widened. Her wand. It wasn't there. She must have left it at Malfoy's house. She cursed herself in her mind.
Slowly she got up, pulling her cloak closer around her as she realized she was still in her black clothing for sneaking around. She couldn't let anyone see those, or they would wonder. She didn't think Ginny or Harry or Ron had noticed though, which was a good thing. She thanked Madam Pince for the parchment and returned the quill and left, making her way to Gryffindor tower.
Once she was safely in her regular clothing again, she pulled a spare piece of parchment from her book bag. On it she wrote:
I left my wand at your house. I need to get it before classes start again. Meet me in the astronomy tower tonight at midnight. We need to talk.
DL
Sighing, she stood up from her nightstand and went over to her trunk to pull out a book she needed to return to the library, as she was planning on going back there just to avoid Harry and Ron. She put it in her book bag, then took the now-dry letter from her nightstand and folded it, putting it in her book bag as well. She turned to go and ran smack into Ginny.
"Ginny," she said, flustered. "I didn't hear you come in."
"You have questions to answer," Ginny said with her eyebrows raised. Hermione wondered if she'd seen the note, wincing as she realized she probably had. Ah, well, she would just change the time or the date or location (or all three) on the letter before she sent it. Sighing, Hermione resigned herself to an interrogation and sat on her bed with her knees tucked up to her chin.
"Where were you on the 26th?" Ginny demanded.
"At a party," Hermione said cautiously. Ginny should already know that.
"With Malfoy?" Hermione didn't manage to hide her surprise in time, and knew Ginny had seen it. "I'll take that as a yes. What were you two doing out late at night together?"
"We just happened to be invited to the same party. We weren't there together," Hermione defended. Ginny raised her eyebrows, but she held her ground.
"If you say so…" Ginny said dubiously. "What were you and Malfoy doing last night then?"
Shocked by what Ginny was implying, Hermione stood. "If you think I am sleeping with the enemy, you are very, very wrong. I can't even believe you would consider that!"
"Then what is it, Hermione? You two were certainly very friendly this morning. I didn't see any hexes or jinxes or curses fly between the two of you," Ginny snarled. Hermione was caught off guard, but her mind didn't betray her this time as she thought quickly.
"What are you talking about? He was flying up too high for me, and I left my wand at…well, I didn't have my wand with me, and you obviously didn't see much, because if you had even seen us, you would have seen that he was being his usual self and calling me a Mudblood and all a manner of nasty things from up on his broomstick," Hermione shot back. She hoped Ginny hadn't really seen them, because if she had, she would know the truth.
Ginny's lips were pursed so hard they were thin white lines, but she couldn't seem to find anything to say back to that and turned on her heel and left the room. Slowly, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and quickly edited the letter before she went off to send it.
Draco looked over the letter again.
I left my wand at your house. I need to get it before classes start again. Meet me in the prefect's bath on the fifth floor (the one to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered) tonight at midnight. We need to talk.
DL
As he traveled like a wraith through the halls, he mulled over how he would get her wand back. The easiest way would be to ask his mother to get it for him, but…he didn't really trust his mum. He would've asked his father then, and asked him for a portkey so that he could get it himself. But his father was in very deep trouble with the Ministry (he was currently in Azkaban, and the only way he'd managed to go to Hermione's ball was because he'd convinced someone to come and visit him and take a Polyjuice Potion and stay the night in Azkaban in his place) and in no way able to create a portkey, and his letter would probably even be read before it got to his father.
Maybe…Granger's "father" would be able to do it. Yes, the Dark Lord should be able to do something about this. Well, he was off to meet Granger right now anyway, so he could work something out with her then. As he walked down four doors from the statue of Boris the Bewildered, he grinned at the wording of her last sentence. We need to talk. It sounded like she was about to break up with him. Those words always preceded a breakup, just as I've been doing a lot of thinking did. He laughed quietly as he said the password ("peppermint") and entered.
Though he was nearly ten minutes early, Hermione was already there. She looked up at his entrance with a baleful look in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked before he could stop himself, walking over to her.
"We're friends," she said. He was so stunned that he stopped in his tracks, thinking it over. With all they had been through, it had just seemed natural, but…she was right. They'd become friends, and they shouldn't have. He hunkered down beside her.
"Yes, we have." She sighed and looked away from him. The silence grew prolonged, neither knowing what to say to the other.
"Oh, and I need my wand. When can we—I mean, when can you get it back to me?" she had changed the "we". He agreed with her, though—it sounded too friendly.
"You left it on my nightstand, right?" he asked.
"Yeah," Granger nodded. No one spoke, and the only noise in the empty room was their breathing.
"I don't trust my mum with your wand. My father has no way of getting it to you. We're going to need to get it, and for that we need a portkey. That is," he said, "unless you want to fly the whole way?" He heard her suck in her breath as he paused. He'd continued to use the "we". He shouldn't have, but it had just seemed so right.
"No, I don't," she said shakily. So, she had noticed him using the "we" also. "I think," she said softly, "We can be friends anywhere but Hogwarts. Everywhere else won't care."
"But it's at Hogwarts that we are the most," Draco reminded her. Granger nodded at that, and he imagined that there was a sad gleam in her eye.
"I'll write to father tonight and ask him to send a portkey and someone to take us," Granger said, standing.
"You can send my eagle owl," Draco told her. "It's more reliable than a school owl." She gave him a smile of gratitude as he stood as well.
She turned to leave, and suddenly Draco felt an aching emptiness. "Wait," he called. Hermione turned back to him, a questioning look in her eyes. He frantically thought about for some reason to keep her with him longer. "Will you…um…swim with me?"
She came closer, walking over to where he stood at the water's edge, and looked down into the water in thought. Smirking, Draco splayed his fingers on her back and gently pushed her in. She came up, spluttering and giggling, and he shrugged helplessly. She laughed at his look and swam back to the edge. She heaved herself up, but apparently didn't have the arm strength to keep herself there and slid back into the water, looking up at him pleadingly. Sighing, he reached down and grasped her slippery hand.
The water rushed up to meet him before he even realized he'd been tricked. He laughed, then choked on the water. He came up coughing, but laughing at the same time to see her already out of the water. She looked down at him. "You really do have to turn around this time," she told him seriously. His eyes widened at what had happened last time he hadn't turned around.
"Calm down," she said. "I won't do that to you again, you freaked out enough last time." She went over into the corner. "You'd better not be watching, Malfoy," Hermione said as she stripped off her shirt. "And I'll hex you into next week if you are." Her shirt fell to the floor, and his eyes widened. She really did have a beautiful figure, and her skin was pale as moonlight on the lake. Then she stiffened, as if realizing something, and he turned away so she wouldn't know he'd been looking.
"Er…Malfoy?" she said.
"Yes?" he asked back.
"Can I borrow your wand for a minute? I forgot I didn't have mine," he turned around to see her holding her shirt over her chest, and her brown eyes were pleading. Smirking, he handed over his wand.
"Thanks," she breathed, and it sent chills up and down his spine. He turned away, as she went back to her corner, but as soon as he was sure she wasn't paying attention to him anymore, he snuck a glance at her. She was transfiguring her bra and underwear into a one-piece swimsuit. He was slightly dismayed that it wasn't a bikini, but had no time to dwell on it as she finished just then, and he had to turn his back as if he hadn't been looking. She handed him his wand, and he dragged himself out of the pool to go change his clothing into a swimsuit as well.
He finished just as she slid into the water. Thinking to scare her, he took a running jump over her head into the pool. He grinned wolfishly as he came up. "I can't believe you," she screeched at him. All he did was laugh at her. She snatched up his wand from the side of the pool, and his eyes widened in fear at what she may do. She put it under the water and aimed it at him, murmuring a spell. A huge wave crashed over his head. When he came up from under it, Granger had abandoned his wand and was laughing.
Grinning, he laughed too and splashed her back, knowing it was no true match for her spell. She looked taken aback, but laughed a second later and splashed him back.
After nearly an hour of fun, Draco pinned her to the wall of the pool. He grinned roguishly at her. "So," he asked casually, as if his nose weren't only a half a foot away from hers. "Are we to be secret friends?" Her hands brushed against his sides, making him shudder, and then she laid them on his shoulders. She had a scared, yearning look in her eyes and he realized he was far, far too close to her.
"Yes," she breathed, and he realized he was even closer to her. He could see the water clinging to her lashes as she looked up at him through them. He was nearly panicking, but couldn't seem to stop. Her chest brushed against his now as she breathed, and he wondered if she had any idea how alluring she was. Was he really about to kiss Granger? Was she even "Granger" to him anymore? Hadn't he been calling her Hermione in his mind for a while now? That was the last straw, and he launched himself off the wall.
He pulled himself out of the water as fast as he could without seeming to be in a rush. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered, "But, I've—er—I've gotta go! I'll see you." He gathered up his clothes and wand and left the room in a rush. Only when he was in his room again did he allow himself to stop and think about what had just happened—and what he was about to do about it.
I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake
—Fall Out Boy "Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner"
