Chap 7: Dance With the Devil

"Alright, Granger, out with it. Why are you agreeing to all this?"

Hermione sputtered, choking on the sip of tea she had taken. She started to cough, swallowing a few times to settle herself before turning around to face him. He had moved away from the fireplace now and was casually perched on the edge of his desk, toying with a round paper weight that resembled a Remembrall while watching her intently. Back and forth, he rolled it under his palm, all while he waited for her response.

"Why are you?" she countered.

The corner of his mouth pulled into a ghost of his patented smirk. He straightened, tossing the Remembrall from one hand to the other before setting it down on the desk. He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, "I asked you first."

Hermione looked away from his probing gaze, focusing on her surroundings. The study was a contradiction in and of itself. Decorated in rich shades of burgundy and brown, she found it rather matched her style than any she would ever attribute to the likes of Slytherin prince Draco Malfoy. She walked to a large window, casually letting her hand drift over the heavy velvety curtain that hung there, reveling in the soft texture as it brushed against the tips of her fingers.

She shrugged, "The Ministry asked for my help… how could I say no?"

"Whatever it takes to serve Queen and country, hmm?"

"Something like that…" She still refused to look at him, feeling his judgmental attitude clear across the room.

"Hermione Granger...the Ministry's Golden Girl…"

She cringed at The Prophet's patented nickname for her. She swallowed down an angry retort and turned to face him then. Her breath caught in her throat at the mere sight of him. He had moved closer, lingering within feet of her. The sunlight peeking through the window bathed him in it's golden haze, brightening his white blonde hair and porcelain skin, making him glow like an angel… a fallen angel waiting to escort her into Hell itself.

He was now standing at the head of the long conference table and he busied himself straightening the stack of parchment that was their Marriage Contract. She recognized it as his attempt to remain nonchalant and unaffected by her. It gave her the courage to be just a bit more daring… maybe see if she could push a few of his buttons for once.

What did she have to lose?

She swallowed and took a cautious step forward, her arms crossing over her chest, effectively pushing up her ample cleavage for his attention. It had the desired effect, his eyes settling on the V-neck of her jumper. "Your turn," she replied. His eyes snapped up to meet hers.

He gave her a little smile, leaning back against the table, his legs stretching out before him, crossed at the ankles, his arms mimicking her stance, folding over his broad chest. "I'll tell you my reason when you tell me yours."

Hermione scoffed, "I already told you my reason."

He cocked an eyebrow, "The real reason, Granger."

Fuck

Hermione turned away from him then, her attention focusing on a stray thread from the curtain, her fingers toying with it nervously. It was always like a dance with them… and they were both fighting to lead. But he had her at a disadvantage now… he could still see right through her.

She took a breath, her gaze fixed on the row of colorful flowers just outside the window. What harm would it do if she just told him the truth?

"I… I'm rather lonely," she confided. She glanced at him over her shoulder for only a moment before continuing, "I thought it might be nice to maybe have a… a husband… a child… you know, without all the dating nonsense." She turned to completely face him and waited. Worst case scenario - he laughed at her, trivializing her words.

Draco stared at her unrelenting for a moment before replying, "I thought you'd be married to The Weasel by now with a whole litter of his pups." His tone wasn't cruel or mocking; just a statement of fact.

She rolled her eyes, "No." Then, thinking she needed to further explain, offered, "We've never… that is, to say, we don't...No. Just no." She hung her head, her thoughts scattering. She didn't like talking about Ron. She smoothed out her skirt, giving herself a moment before looking up at him.

"Your turn," she whispered.

He continued to stare at her for the space of several heartbeats, and as unnerving as it was, she stood steadfast and met his gaze, almost challenging him in a way.

He finally relented and looked away. "The Ministry agreed to end my probation early and return my wand."

Another statement of fact from Draco Malfoy.

She swallowed, "Ah." Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt by his words. It's not like he knew she would be chosen as his match when he volunteered, and she had no right to take it to heart but…

...It still stung.

Draco Malfoy wasn't secretly hoping to be matched with the great love of his life… This was all simply a means to an end. It was her first real clue that, deep down, he would always be the selfish boy she knew in school.

"At least you're honest," she mused, her heart clenching in deep seated despair, despite her awful attempt to compartmentalize her feelings.

Get it together, Granger, her inner voice screamed… sounding an awful lot like the man standing across the room from her.

He snorted, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever dared to call me… honest…" The word dripped from his tongue like acid. He tilted his head and studied her, "I don't want you romanticizing this, Granger."

Her face flushed with heat and she had to turn away from him, her embarrassment much too evident. She knew she should say something clever as a retort but the words refused to take form. So silence enveloped them.

She tried to concentrate on the landscape beauty outside; all the while silently wishing he would just say his peace and they could end this awkward standoff. Was this why he wanted to speak to her alone - to ensure she wasn't entering into this arrangement with any preconceived notions of true love? She had to swallow past the lump in her throat.

She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. You can do this, Hermione. She attempted a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and turned back around. She gestured around the room, avoiding his gaze, as she attempted to change the subject, "You've done a lovely job with The Manor. I didn't really see it much, last time I was here, but your mother says you've been making many changes…"

"I'm sorry…" he rushed out, interrupting her diatribe.

Hermione froze. She turned to look at him, "Wh-what did you say?"

Draco heaved a dramatic sigh, pushing himself away from his perch on the table, pacing now as he shoved his hands into his hair. "Don't make me say it again," he pleaded.

A small smile tugged at her lips, his actions reminding her of that boy she once knew. "Oh, I most definitely need to hear it again," she teased.

He gave her a scathing look, his grey eyes on fire. And then he stopped pacing, met her gaze dead on and stated, "I'm sorry… for everything." He took a step towards her, "I was a bloody awful git to you. Please know…" He paused, "...please know, I'm not that boy anymore."

Her heart literally skipped a beat inside her chest. Her mouth opened then closed, her teeth worrying her lip as she considered his words. She knew there was more to him… had the memories of it locked inside her mind… and her stomach flipped at the knowledge that he didn't remember any of it.

Because of her

"It's in the past, Malfoy. Perhaps… perhaps it should just stay there…"

He gave a brief nod and they shared a look of understanding between them then.

He seemed to relax, his hand raking through his hair before he shoved them into his trouser pockets. He took a step towards her, his mouth turning up at the corners in a secret smirk. It did things to her… that smirk… her throat ran dry and her insides clenched in anticipation.

"I never properly thanked you - for testifying on my behalf at the trial…"

She looked down, her foot digging into the plushness of the carpet. "D-don't mention it…" she stammered.

"I saw the transcripts… the things you said…" He cocked his head to the side and scrutinized her carefully, "Did you mean it?"

More than you will ever know… "Every word," she whispered.

"I'm not such a daft prick that I don't realize if it wasn't for you…" He stopped and rolled his eyes, "... and Saint Potter… I'd be spending life in Azkaban instead of discussing marriage contracts in my study with two-thirds of my sworn enemies."

There it was again… that smile she couldn't seem to suppress. She drifted closer to him, her finger casually running along a stuffed pillow situated on the nearby loveseat. "Your study?" she questioned.

He circled around her, watching her closely, "Mmmm hmmm…"

She gazed around the room as she found herself before the large conference table. "It's very… well… it's quite Gryffindor red…"

He cocked one perfect brow, closing the distance between them, "You were expecting Slytherin green?"

She pretended to consider his words, "Well… yes, as a matter of fact…"

He chuckled deeply, slightly leaning into her, "You should see my bedroom…"

Her mouth dropped open and her entire body flushed crimson red at his innuendo.

He straightened, his hand immediately finding its way to his hair out of a nervous habit, "I didn't mean to imply…" He coughed. "I...uh… I meant for the color scheme…"

"Uh, y-yes… of course…" she stammered.

They both turned away from each other but didn't re-distance themselves. Again, the silence.

He sighed and gave a light laugh, drawing her attention back to him. He leaned back against the table again, those long legs of his stretching out beside her. She couldn't help herself, giving into the urge to stare at how his perfectly tailored trousers hugged his muscular form. Her breath hitched. Seems like the past years have been very good to him...

"So you're a teacher now?" he asked.

Her head snapped up to meet his gaze, a questioning look in her eyes.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I did my homework."

She felt herself blush. "Uh… yes, Transfiguration."

He gave her the once over, his eyes slowly roving from her face to her breasts, lingering, perhaps a little longer than was necessary, on her thighs before he again looked her in the eyes, "It suits you...but I would have thought you'd be working for the Ministry freeing House Elves or petitioning for werewolf rights."

She released a shaky breath, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth, "I figured I'd spare the world anymore of my misguided righteousness… at least for a bit."

"How magnanimous of you…"

"Yes, well, I think I'm definitely more suited for inspiring young, impressionable minds to continue on with the legacy instead." She looked over at him, his rapt attention making her feel a bit giddy inside, "You know, I have the highest enrollment percentage among the upperclassmen in the history of Hogwarts."

He surprised her by giving a low chuckle, "I don't think it's because the next generation cannot wait to learn how to turn animals into goblets, Granger."

She furrowed her brow, "I'm not sure I catch your meaning…"

He leaned into her and replied in a low, rather husky tone, "Well, if any of our teachers had looked half as decent as you when we went to Hogwarts, maybe I would have come to class more often."

Again, she blushed… rather deeply and profoundly, from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She had to look away from him, her eyes darting around the room as her hands fidgeted. "Oh I don't know, Harry and Neville are young blokes and war heroes, yet their enrollment figures still rank rather low…"

Sensing he had made her uncomfortable, he settled back but still gave her a knowing smile, "I stand by what I said."

She raised her hand to cover her face as she tried to hide her growing smile. She found she rather liked this version of Malfoy. She moved to stand beside him now, resting herself back against the tabletop and she nudged him with her elbow in a playful manner, "You know, perhaps if you had come to classes more, you would have finally bested me at some assignments."

At this he genuinely laughed out loud, "Not bloody likely."

She giggled, his humor infectious, conceding, "At least in potions. You were always proficient in potions." Again, she playfully nudged him.

He gave a quick shake of his head, "Much to my parents' chagrin, I think it's my destiny to forever come in second to you…"

She allowed herself to laugh at that. She caught his gaze, the heat in his eyes suddenly making her very warm. She distracted herself by giving him the once-over, "Well, I must say, second place looks very good on you…"

He cocked an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

She couldn't help it, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, "Stop fishing for compliments, Malfoy. You know you're fit."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part. Could you repeat it?"

She covered her face with her hands as she flushed crimson, "Do not make me say it again."

"Oh, I most definitely need to hear it again…" he chuckled, using her earlier words against her.

"Okay, now you're just being cheeky."

She found she had inadvertently moved closer to his side, their arms now brushing against one another. The smell of his cologne surrounded her, intoxicating her as if it was Amortentia weaving its spell around her entire being. This was what he did to her… it was effortless and yet so seductive, the manner in which he innocently toyed with her desire… never really knowing her infatuation with him was indeed her greatest weakness.

He placed his left hand flat on the tabletop and leaned towards her ever so slightly, "The thousand ways I imagined this conversation going, never did it cross my mind we could actually get along so well."

She gave him a lowkey smirk, her right hand lying beside his on the table, close but not touching. "Oh give us time," she teased, "They say the first year of marriage is the hardest. I'm sure we will be hurling insults at each other mere hours after taking our vows." She kept her tone light, teasing him gently.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face, "Swot."

"Ferret." She hadn't hesitated, the comeback rolling off her tongue.

And then there it was, in all it's glory - the Malfoy smirk - that sneer that elevated her blood pressure and made her insides melt.

She felt the gentlest caress against her pinkie, his long finger sliding against her own. It sent heat flooding through her abdomen and she felt her cheeks reddening from it. She bit her lip to suppress a gasp.

She hadn't been touched in a very long while… She internally chided herself for thinking it was intentional on his part until she felt it again… bolder now, a feather-light kiss of his fingertip across the back of her hand.

And then, as if he couldn't help himself, he reached up with his right hand and lightly ran the back of his knuckles along the curve of her cheek, "I like it when I make you blush…"

"Now don't go romanticizing this, Malfoy…" She meant it as a play on his awful words but her breathy delivery only made him give her a smile to rival that of the devil's.

"Tell me, Granger…" he paused to draw his lower lip between his teeth, contemplating his next words. All five of his fingers caressed circles on the softness of her hand now, sending little electric shocks of pleasure throughout her body, making her internally pant.

She swallowed thickly.

He chuckled low in the back of his throat. "...are you the kind of girl who only likes to make love or do you enjoy a good fuck?"

Suddenly his long fingers wrapped around her wrist and he yanked her close. She let out a little yelp as she stumbled into his embrace. She was forced to catch herself with her free hand against his chest. Her fingers splayed on his hard form, touching chiseled, corded muscle that radiated warmth, despite the layers of his shirt and suit jacket between them.

Desire pooled low in her abdomen and she released a shaky breath as she clenched her thighs together against the dampness in her knickers.

In that moment, it was as if nothing had ever changed, despite the eight year gap.

"W-wouldn't you like to know…" she breathed.

Again that smirk. He leaned in close, "I have a confession…" He brought his lips to her ear, "I was hoping it would be you…" he whispered, his breath hot against her flesh.

She swallowed, "Malfoy…" That was all she could manage to say.

"Granger…" he purred against the crook of her neck, his lips hovering just shy of connecting with her skin.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!" a voice bellowed from behind them.

Hermione and Draco reacted simultaneously, whirling around to face their visitor.

Ron Weasley, looking all the worse for wear, stepped out of the green flames of the Floo with his wand clutched desperately in his fist. His clothes looked like they had been slept in, his ghastly red hair in desperate need of a cut and a comb. But it was his face, contorted in an ugly grimace of pure hatred, that had Draco reaching for his wand.

"Expelliaramus!" Ron cried, clearly anticipating Draco's move.

As his wand was ripped from his hand and thrown towards Ron, Draco reacted by stepping directly in front of Hermione, strategically placing himself between her and Weasley.

This caught Hermione by surprise. She looked up at Malfoy, her breath hitching in her throat. His eyes remained focused on Ron, his hands rising in submission.

"No one needs to get hurt, Weasley," Draco tried, his voice even and controlled despite the precarious situation.

"No one except you, Malfoy. I doubt anyone would grieve if I ended you here and now, Death Eater scum that you are!" Ron bit out.

Hermione felt the rage well up inside her at his words and she turned towards Ron now. "Ronald Billius Weasley!" She tried to move around Draco but his hand grabbed her and he shoved her behind him again.

Ron raised his wand, "Don't you dare defile her with your touch!"

Malfoy released her immediately, again holding up his hands in surrender.

Choosing to stay put, she cast Ron a seething look over Draco's shoulder, "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?!"

"Saving you!" It came out as more of a plea, Ron's face crumbling as he stared at her longingly.

"Like hell you are!"

Draco leaned down to her then, whispering, "Let's not antagonize the unstable boyfriend, Granger, shall we?"

She scoffed, "Ron wouldn't dare."

"Says you. I'm the one who's going to get my balls hexed off here."

That got her attention. She met Draco's gaze and wordlessly acknowledged his concern.

She schooled her features, trying to give Ron her most sympathetic look while she cringed on the inside. "Ron, put the wand down," she said carefully.

"No! Not until you agree to leave here with me!"

Hermione felt Draco's body grow rigid with tension and he lowered his hands to his sides, balling them into fists.

The tiny hairs on her arms stood to attention, as if static electricity was pulling at them. The same thing had happened earlier when Shacklebolt had angered Malfoy. She glanced down, noticing a small blue spark flare between his thumb and forefinger.

Wandless magic

Draco Malfoy had uncovered wandless magic.

She wasn't sure if she should be in awe or perhaps a bit frightened. It took some of the most powerful wizards a lifetime to accomplish such a feat.

Focus, Hermione...she chided herself.

She returned her attention to Ron, noticing how his hand trembled. She had to act fast; before Ron ended up being killed.

"Ron, you know I can't do that," she tried, swallowing hard.

She stepped closer to Draco, partially concealing her body behind his. She reached into the folds of her skirt, her fingers wrapping around the handle of her wand.

"We have a magically binding contract…" she continued.

"You think I care!" he interrupted and Hermione immediately froze. "I volunteered for this insane Initiative for you… so we could be paired together and you would finally see how meant to be we are for each other…" He shook his head violently, "But you would rather throw me over for the likes of him!"

She sighed, "Oh Ron… have you gone completely mental? You cannot fault me or Draco for the Ministry's decision. The compatibility tests were designed to…"

"Oh, it's Draco, is it?! Bollocks, 'Mione! He's done something to you! Just look at him! He's nothing more than a slimy, manipulative snake!"

Hermione groaned, "That's enough!"

"No… no…" Ron shook his head, "He...he's poisoned you...with a love potion...and...and he's rigged the results…" He started to nod frantically, "Yes! That's it, isn't it? You had one of your Ministry lackeys fix the tests so you could steal my girl!"

Draco cocked an eyebrow, his mask of indifference sliding into place. "I think I've heard just about enough of this..."

Hermione stepped into him, bringing her front flush against his back, dragging his attention to her. She met his gaze and held it, discreetly pressing her wand into the palm of his hand.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, and she tried to put all of her feelings into that one wordless exchange.

She looked at Ron, "Are we really having this conversation again, Ronald? I'm not your girl. I just don't feel that way about you."

"But after everything we shared?!" he pleaded. "Everything we did...what I did…"

She didn't have to look up at Draco now, she could hear the click of his jaw as he tightened it. Her heart started to race, unwanted memories assailing her, "Please don't do this… please… It was a mistake. You can move on… Please just move on…" The last of her words were but a whisper and a tear slipped down her cheek unwarranted.

The wand in Ron's hand shook as his own tears began to fall. "I… I'm s-sorry..." His words were for her and her alone. He started to lower his wand.

Draco's palm twitched and suddenly Ron's wand was raised again. "Cruc…"

"Stupify!" This time, Draco was faster, knocking Ron off his feet, crashing him into the fireplace before he could finish uttering the Dark Curse. Ron crumbled into a heap, clearly unconscious.

Hermione didn't hesitate, pushing Draco aside to hurry to Ron's fallen form. She kneeled over him and grabbed his wand, picking up Draco's, as well. She didn't even bother to see if Ron was okay, simply stared down at his prone body, realizing, for the first time in forever, she felt nothing for the red haired man.

A crackle, sounding an awful lot like flames licking at tinder, and the smell of smoke drew Hermione's attention back to Draco. She turned away from Ron just as Draco stumbled, barely catching himself on the closet table. He still held her wand and she could see a strange blue charge of static emanating from his fingers. She immediately rushed over to him, forgetting all about Ron.

Draco extended his hand as she came near, "Don't. Don't touch me," he choked out.

Hermione froze in her steps, standing merely an arm's length away from him. "Draco…" she murmured, her chest seizing in fear. She could feel a surge of power surrounding her, filling the room, making her palms suddenly itch with need for her own wand.

He just shook his head, drawing on all his energy to compose himself. He took a deep shuddering breath, and then the magic slowly started to dissipate. Another deep breath and he was able to right himself, standing at his full height, pulling his suit jacket down, his hand smoothing out any wrinkles.

She watched in stunned silence as he laid her wand gently down on the tabletop before proceeding to drop to his knees, his head bowed, with his hands resting in supination on his thighs.

Hermione took one step towards him before the large oak doors to the study burst open behind her, Harry and Shacklebolt practically tripping over one another, their wands raised, their eyes darting around the room, taking in the whole scene.

As soon as Harry saw Ron unconscious, he immediately ran to his aid, assessing his best mate. Narcissa did the same for her son, rushing to Malfoy's side.

Shacklebolt merely heaved a heavy sigh, finally lowering his wand. He came to Hermione, "Alright, Ms. Granger, care to explain what happened here?"

But Hermione paid him no heed. Her vision was trained on the Malfoys. She blatantly stared as Narcissa whispered into Draco's ear, his eyes turning to meet her worried gaze. Then she wrapped her arms around his slouched shoulders, urging him to his feet and guiding him away from the fray, her mouth constantly moving but her words too low for her to hear.

Ron suddenly moaned, the sound tearing Hermione's gaze away.

"Ms. Granger?" Shacklebolt demanded.

Her attention snapped to the Minister now, his look of irritation puzzling her. And then the strange spell she was under seemed to vanish. Regaining her wits, she spouted off, "Ron Weasley attacked us… Draco was only defending himself… defending me…"

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.

What? Did he really expect her to defend Ron?

"It's the truth, Harry."

Worry crossed his features then, and he returned his attention back to his friend, who by now was moaning and writhing in pain.

Shacklebolt cursed under his breath. He turned away from her and made his way over to Potter and Ron.

Hermione's eyes drifted over to Draco and Narcissa, now at the far corner of the room, strategically standing by a set of French style doors she could only assume led to the outside.

He seemed to be arguing with her, gesturing madly with his hands, his words still quiet. But Narcissa pulled him close, whispering into his ear. Both their visions suddenly strayed to Hermione and she silently gasped, casting her eyes down. When she took a chance to look up again, Draco was slipping out through the doors, unbeknownst to everyone save her and Narcissa.

Narcissa met her gaze then, her head giving a brief nod towards the doors before she glided away, moving to Shacklebolt's side now.

Hermione's breath picked up in tempo, aware of how Narcissa was distracting the Minister and Harry, feigning care over "the poor Weasley boy". Hermione's feet were already moving in the direction of the doors before she realized she had made up her mind to do so.

With one final glance back at the scene, she carefully opened one of the doors and hurried out, stepping into the bright sunshine.