Hermione shows up, finally.
I'm very happy that the first chapter could spark so much interest! Thank you all for your follows, favourites, and your kind comments! They are what we writers thrive on 3.
I'd like to thank Naarna for her input, and LittleMissEighty-Sixed and riptide for their hard work on this chapter. Especially the latter two really helped me with deepening the character development and correcting all my mistakes. If any remained, they belong all to me. I wouldn't even know what to do without you 3!
This story is cross-posted from AO3 where it's usually updated one or two days earlier than ffn. My username over there is sarena.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just borrow the characters and the world for a bit; the plot (as little as there is) is mine, though. This is a non-profit work, and no copyright infringement is intended.
ooOoOoOoo
Distant sounds reached his ears. Something that might've been a crack and something else that could've been his name. His lids fluttered.
"Malfoy!"
Stinging on his cheek accompanied the sound this time, and he garbled a noise so pitiful that it couldn't have been from him in the first place.
"Wake up, Malfoy!"
The voice was female but not his mother's. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to squint them against the piercing light. "Nnngh!"
"Sorry, too bright." The form above him moved and the light became dimmer. "Who did this to you?" Something shook his shoulder when his eyes drooped closed. "Malfoy! You need to stay awake. Do you know who hexed you?" The voice sounded bossier than anything else now. He groaned and lifted his head a bit to shake it and clear out the fog
Oh, of course it would be her.
"Granger." He turned his head when he saw his mother shuffling on the other side of him. Her hand carefully touched his forehead but didn't meet any resistance from the horns he'd sprouted earlier.
"Draco, how do you feel?"
"Nnngh."
"Thank you for your help, Miss Granger. I can take it from here."
"But, Mrs Malfoy, he doesn't look well at all. I think I should—"
"Your help is much appreciated, Miss Granger. I assure you, I will call the best healers to solve this issue."
"Mother, please just—"
"Mrs Malfoy, I insist. As long as he's on Gringotts' property, it's my responsibility to ensure his well-being and safety until a professional healer—"
"Shut up, both of you!" Draco shouted, and pulled a face when his headache erupted again. Those bloody horns probably were starting to grow once more, too, considering the level of anger he'd been in the last time they made an appearance. He wondered how he'd developed such a short fuse recently.
He waited a few moments for one of the witches to say something, then he released the breath he'd been holding. He would've rubbed the bridge of his nose if he only could've been sure that he'd actually move his arm when giving his muscles an order.
Everything was just fucking fantastic, wasn't it?
It seemed that somebody had transfigured the tapestries into a fluffy, comfortable bed. His mother, then, because he doubted the Muggle-born would know the difference between silk and Egyptian cotton, and he definitely preferred the latter. Easier to get stains out, too. The women looked at him with varying levels of concern, sitting now on two chairs that looked Louis Quatorze. Maybe one of his forefathers had snatched them from Versailles before the revolutionaries had broken in.
"Granger, what are you doing in our vault?"
She sat up just a little straighter, and took a deep breath.
"Short version."
She deflated a tiny bit. "It's part of the new Gringotts code of conduct. We have expanded our charms and wards to detect unusual spikes of magic, especially Dark and Wild Magic. It also requires at least one employee in-house at any time who's trained in first aid, magical and Muggle."
"So, are you here because of the magic or because my mother called for help?"
"Both," she admitted. "Two guards and another curse-breaker have already left. I stayed because you were out like a light."
"And like I said, I'm very thankful for Miss Granger's—"
"Mother!" He snapped.
Granger's face turned from annoyed to fascinated as she observed his appendages moving. "They look as agitated as you sound. Is that the reason your magic lashed out enough to set off an alarm? Were you arguing?" She glanced between him and his mother, and then settled her eyes on his face. "I've never seen anything like that before, nor have I read about it besides in some Muggle books. Did your feet turn into hooves?"
"Miss Granger!" His mother's words were indignant and a tad shrill. "You're taking it too far. This is none of your business."
"Mrs Malfoy, I'm an extraordinarily well-trained curse breaker who—"
"Mother, she withstood Bellatrix' torture without—"
He and Granger stopped at the same time and looked at each other. She leaned a bit forward, reaching out with her hand but not daring to touch him. Or maybe she was just not sure where to touch him first.
"I could help you," she whispered.
"I'm not another pet project of yours," he bit out.
"I'll need access to your library and that trunk," she continued without addressing his half-hearted rejection.
Narcissa shot up from her chair. "You will not lay your eyes on the Malfoy documents!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Aren't you sworn to secrecy to each and every client, Granger?"
"I am, in fact. Even if the issue reaches beyond the premises. But not if it's a danger to anyone's life or to the continued existence of the wizarding world."
He interrupted his mother's disagreement before she could even start. "She's been the only one who surpassed me constantly in school. And you know we owe her for that nasty scar, not to mention her testimony at my trial."
Narcissa swallowed hard and nodded. "I hope you understand that I still expect an Unbreakable Vow. After all, you did break into my sister's vault here. And you managed to get out again."
"Accept it, Granger. That's probably the most of a compliment you'll get," Draco mock-whispered which earned him a severe look from both witches.
"We'll receive you at eight o'clock sharp, Miss Granger. Please be punctual. Then we can discuss further particulars."
Granger nodded. "Your things seem to have calmed down, Malfoy. It's probably best for me to get back to work now. Mrs Malfoy." She greeted curtly and turned to leave through the door on the other end of the room.
Draco looked after her and then her words registered, and he glanced down his body. His appendices had retracted and he finally didn't have to worry about errant movements anymore. He propped himself on his elbows to face his mother.
"We'll need a curse breaker to clear the stuff we're taking with us."
"We will," she agreed. "Let's get started. But first let me scourgify and reparo your shirt."
ooOoOoOoo
Hermione muttered a quick spell to smooth out the creases in her clothes. Her shift at Gringotts had taken longer than expected and she'd only had a few minutes to wolf down a sandwich after she'd arrived back home. She walked the few meters from the apparition point to the heavy iron-wrought gate that lead to the manor. It loomed against the darkening sky, the orange and red background painting it on foreboding canvas, and she tried to shake off her uneasiness. Before she could question her decision to come to Malfoy Manor of all places, the gate opened soundlessly and a house elf in an immaculate black suit bowed before her.
"Miss Granger? I is Wompy. Please follows me." She eyed her warily and held her tiny hand out.
She noticed the proud Malfoy crest on the suit and smiled at the elf. "Wompy, I'm pleased to meet you." The livree hinted at the freedom of the elf but that didn't mean she was treated respectfully. The elf started to fidget under her scrutiny and reached her hands further out.
"Miss needs follow me."
Hermione inspected her for signs of abuse but couldn't see any on the visible parts of skin. She pondered walking the four-hundred meters to the main door instead of using the services of a probably unpaid house elf but her feet reminded her of the distances she'd walked on that day already. Gringotts' anti-apparition wards were infallible.
Apparition always left her feeling a bit queasy, especially doing it so quickly after the last one, although it had become easier in the past few years. She took a small step to the right to stabilise her footing when they arrived just behind the front doors, and tried to banish the nausea in her throat. Flying on a broomstick was much worse, she told herself.
The huge connecting doors opened to the hall without any sound, and she wasn't really sure if a foreboding screeching would've been worse. She brushed her sweaty palms over her trousers as subtly as possible.
"Miss Granger, welcome to our humble home," Mrs Malfoy greeted her. "Wompy will take your coat and robes. Please accompany me to the Blue Room where we'll be served a light dinner shortly."
"Dinner?" Hermione squeaked and looked down at her simple black slacks and créme coloured blouse. She was in no state for a dinner with Mrs Malfoy who was carrying her dark grey gown with effortless grace.
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Narcissa said with a twitch of her brow. "I am aware that your clothing is... not fully appropriate but I'm willing to overlook your unfortunate lack of proper attire this time. I can imagine that you don't often have the opportunity to attend a meal in higher social circles."
Hermione felt the heat of anger suffuse her cheeks. "I was not aware that this is a visit beyond a solely professional occasion."
"Any invitation between five and nine o'clock will always include dinner in any house that considers itself proper."
"Even if the guest is a Mudblood?" Her fight-or-flight instinct settling on fight, she spat the insult with all the venom she could muster and clutched her left forearm. The scar always burned when she was angry.
Narcissa had the decency to flinch, her eyes flickering to the forearm where Hermione's sleeve covered the ugly scar, and looked paler than before. "We don't follow those misguided beliefs anymore, Miss Granger. I would've thought a woman of your intelligence would read the newspapers to keep up with recent developments, be it politically or socially."
"Mother, that's enough. Let it go," Malfoy said from the other end of the hallway. He sauntered closer and held both his arms open to the witches. "Come on, everything's ready."
Hermione agreed on a wordless—if tentative—truce with a nod to Narcissa, and put her hand into the crook of Malfoy's elbow while his mother did the same on the other side. The two Malfoys started talking about things which had to be done in the greenhouses, and she took a closer look at the many paintings lining the silk covered walls. Most inhabitants watched her curiously, some showing blatant sneers, but none of them indicated friendliness. Maybe the aim of this part of the house was to show their guests that the Malfoys were a family not to be trifled with, and not to make them feel welcome. As they passed the room that had left a lot of bad memories, she stiffened up and slowed her steps. Malfoy turned his head, tensed his arm muscles, and stopped.
"Please, go ahead. We'll be joining you soon." He addressed his mother.
Narcissa's eyes glanced between Hermione and her son, then to the door, and understanding flickered across her face. "Of course. Don't take too long or the food will get cold." Her steps were lighter than her stiletto heels should allow but maybe the sounds were merely swallowed by a sophisticated charm on the floor's thick rug.
Hermione stared at a point next to the door to the drawing room and tried to clear her head. She felt Malfoy's hands on her shoulders, twisting her whole body to face him instead of the door.
"Look. Granger, I'm sorry for what my batshit-crazy aunt did to you in this room. We don't enter it anymore if that's any consolation. Not even the elves go in there more often than once a month to check if the windows are still tight." He pushed a hand through his short platinum-blond hair.
She nodded but didn't answer, and rubbed her hands over her arms to fight the faint shivers.
"I was naive. Too young, and a bloody idiot to believe there was honour in taking the Dark Mark. I'm sorry for what happened." His head fell down a little in an attempt to catch her eyes. She stared at his chest instead and forced herself to relax her clenched fists.
"You didn't rat us out back then. Why not?"
"It was wrong." He paused a second and swallowed. "At that point I'd seen enough of what Bellatrix and Voldemort were able to do. I was scared shitless of what they would do to me or Mother if they'd ever realise that we weren't strong supporters anymore. Or even worse, that I, a marked Death Eater, didn't want to be a bloody part of it at all. And hating you and the Dunce Duo didn't outweigh that."
Hermione was searching his eyes for any semblance of a false confession. He was either honest or an extraordinarily skilled liar. Whichever it was, it didn't matter at that moment. "Alright. Let's join your mum now." At his hesitation, she added, "We should concentrate on finding help for you. The quicker we can go through your documents, the better."
It was obvious that he wasn't content with that but he lifted his elbow anyway and accepted her hand on his arm. He was warm beneath the smooth cloth, so much warmer than she'd expected, with lean muscles that were relaxed now except for the ones needed to hold up his limb.
Hermione was stunned by the beauty of the room they reached after a few metres. At some point in the past few years they had installed electricity, and the smart arrangement of indirect lighting and candles bathed the furniture in an alluring shimmer. The colour of the walls and upholstery was a subdued light-blue and she could see the elegance and talent that was behind the interior design. She'd half anticipated a large dining table, but it was much smaller and set for a less formal meal. Draco led her to a seat next to him and across from Narcissa, and she noticed that he deliberately left the place empty where the head of house was usually seated.
The grilled salmon looked and smelled delicious. Considering her constant lack of time—and willingness—for cooking something for only herself, this was the most sophisticated dinner she'd had in weeks.
At her nod, Draco poured her a glass from a bottle of chilled white wine after he had filled half a glass for his mother, and then reached for a decanter of water to fill his own. Hermione didn't comment; she'd seen enough of what the aftermath of war in combination with alcohol had done to a lot of people.
Mrs Malfoy lifted her glass. "To a fruitful cooperation." Hermione nodded at her and Draco, and sipped. The wine tasted fruity and tart, a distinct difference to what she usually would allow herself to afford. While her job paid her well enough that she didn't have to turn every knut, she still wouldn't spend twenty or more galleons on a bottle of booze for a random workday dinner.
She picked up her cutlery—a clear intimidation attempt from the Malfoy matriarch to set out three pairs when they'd have only one dish, and maybe dessert, but her mum had prepared her for situations like that, thank you very much—and moaned softly at the first bite. If that sound disconcerted the older witch, she didn't show it, but Hermione sensed a little start from Malfoy which she didn't pay much attention to.
Dinner was a largely silent affair, only interrupted by sparse conversation between the others while she happily drowned in the taste of her food. She indulged in the chocolate cake without shame, faintly promising herself that she'd add another minute to her dental hygiene later. And maybe finally pick up some exercising as her love for cake and chocolate had started to show a while ago.
"I trust everything was to your satisfaction, Miss Granger?"
"The food and wine were excellent, Mrs Malfoy. Thank you."
"Very well. We should repair to the library. The documents are stored there under a conservation charm. Some of them are several hundreds of years old. We also can discuss the extent not only of the Vow but also what you'll have to have a look at."
"About the Vow—"
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger but this is non-negotiable."
"I will not Vow to anything that might hurt others."
"I will not ask it of you. Come." Narcissa's dress rustled when she got up and steered for the door on the other side of the room.
Draco just shrugged his shoulders when Hermione looked at him, and both followed his mother with quick steps. "She tried to make me take one back at Gringotts, and I'm family. But it didn't make much sense after you decided to participate in shedding light on the whole affair."
"I'll have tea served and spirits, if you like." Narcissa offered.
"Just tea and some water, please. I'll need a clear head."
"Draco?"
"Same."
Hermione spun once around her axis when she reached the middle of the room, a growing smile on her lips. Large shelves filled with books huge and small, ancient and new, covered the walls of the round tower. There were separate sections for scrolls every few steps with small shelves to store them in. The library went over three stories, with a surrounding balcony allowing for easier access of the books on the first and second floor. It was like one of her library wet dreams come true.
She saw Draco's smirk and it sobered her a bit. As magnificent as the library was, she was here on business. Unpaid business, maybe, but it was still for a more or less professional reason. That her curiosity and eagerness to learn would be sated, too, was a nice side-effect.
Narcissa Malfoy motioned to a large desk on one end of the library. The iridescent glow of a stasis charm covered it and the objects on it. A weak wave of Dark Magic reached her and she whipped her head around to Malfoy.
"What's that? How in Godric's name did you get that out of Gringotts? Or did you hide it when they checked the manor for Dark Magic?" One clammy hand fingered her wand in the holster at her hip.
"Miss Granger, I'm sure you have an approximate estimation on how old and powerful the houses Malfoy and Black are." The older witch beat her son to the answer, and Hermione grit her teeth at the condescending tone. "Our families had enough time to invent all kind of useful spells. A concealing charm for Dark Magic is only a lesser one of them."
Hermione gripped her wand harder and watched the movements of the Malfoys closely.
Draco held up his hands. "Granger, don't look at me like that. I didn't even know that spell existed until this afternoon. Besides, don't they call you the brightest witch of our age? I'm not exactly stupid either. Potter knows where you are and when to expect to hear from you again, doesn't he?"
"Yes." She pressed out. "Yes, he does."
"Then let's start working lest he raids the manor with a hundred-fifty Aurors because you passed curfew."
"I don't have such a thing as a curfew!" Hermione spluttered, and almost missed the corner of Malfoy's mouth twisting when she eased her hold on her wand. It kind of seemed like he was amused, the bastard. She made for the desk but was held back by a polite cough from Narcissa. "Right, the Vow."
Malfoy stretched his hand out and Hermione took it. He felt warm in his confident grip, with slight callouses on his palm and index, the signs of broom riding and a lot of writing. If it hadn't been Malfoy of all people, she might've found the combination very alluring.
"'I swear on my Magic and my life that I will keep any information about the Malfoy family a secret to anybody except members of said family.'"
Hermione repeated Narcissa's words and added, "Unless a person, or creature, or the existence of the wizarding world is in danger."
Malfoy interjected before his mother could let out more than an indignant huff. "You won't get any better, Mother." Then he said, a bit softer, "We need her help."
Her mouth formed a tight, white line, but then she nodded once. She swirled her wand in a slightly different pattern than Hermione had been taught, back during the war, and remained concentrated until Malfoy sealed the Vow with his vocal acceptance.
So this is my first Unbreakable Vow, Hermione thought as she witnessed the magic bond sink into her and Malfoy's skin with a hot sizzle. Her skin felt scorched but even a close examination didn't show any burns. Curious. She'd have to do some research on it.
Malfoy still held her hand and stared down on it. His thumb ghosted over a part where the magic had touched her skin but he swiftly pulled back when he noticed Hermione's look. No big surprise that his face was flushed when he was so warm. Maybe he had a fever, or maybe it was a side-effect of the curse he was under. Either way, she would figure it out. She flexed her hand to relieve the tingle his touch had left.
Narcissa looked torn between satisfaction and contempt. "I will withdraw to my rooms now and you should begin working on the documents. Good luck with finding something."
Hermione wasn't sure if anything was expected from her, so she stayed silent and listened only with half an ear as Malfoy bid his mother a good night. A few steps brought the brown-haired woman to the desk with the documents. The Dark Magic was more intense now and she waved her wand to find the exact position. Not every item was Dark, and even the ones that were only had a small signature of it, but all emanated a bit different type of magic. It felt old and stubborn, and at the same time complex and hard to unravel. She hadn't felt anything like that ever before and looked askance at Malfoy. "Most of the magic feels odd."
"Family magic. You feel the magic properties of the Malfoy blood, I suppose."
"It feels hard-headed and resilient. Malfoy traits, I assume?" Hermione bit her lips to avoid an outright grin at the poorly hidden jab, her earlier worry about the Dark Magic and the Vow put aside until she would have time to mull that over.
His lips twitched in return. "You won't get anywhere without determination and perseverance. It's probably advisable if I touch everything before you do. Most things will be sealed by blood magic."
"Like the trunk at Gringotts'? I saw the blood on the crest there."
"Simpler, but yeah. Might bleed me dry with all the different scrolls and books, though." He laughed at her scrunched face. The sound was more pleasant that she'd expected. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little blood."
"I'm not! But you said something about bleeding you dry, and considering that a human adult has about six litres of blood—"
"Oh Salazar," he half-moaned, half-laughed.
She was nearly tempted to stick her tongue out at him. "We should start with your symptoms first, anyway. It might help narrowing down the possible solutions. And I can consult the library at the Ministry."
He looked at her sharply. "You can't tell Potter about it."
"I know!" She shook her wrist at him. "My short-term memory works very well, Malfoy. I do remember what type of Vow I just agreed to."
"Then how will you explain?"
"I'm a curse-breaker, and Gringotts pays a hefty fee so I can use the Ministry library. I always can say I'm educating myself." She shrugged. Not like nobody wouldn't expect that anyway.
"I guess that's right. Okay, where do you want to start?"
She glanced at the desk, and took out her notebook and a pen. "Can you clear a corner for me?"
"Sure." He moved a couple of books out of the way and then he levitated the drinks on the table.
Opening her notebook, she went through the mental list of questions she'd compiled during the day. "When did you notice them for the first time?"
"Two days ago, June Fifth. My birthday. Why don't you use a self-inking quill instead of that..." He gestured to her pen.
"Hm? Oh, the feathers get caught in my long hair a lot. I prefer pens for writing. Were your... protrusions simply there when you woke up?"
"They definitely were there when I soaped myself up in the shower."
"Uh-huh. What did you do then?"
"I panicked?"
"Did they grow when you panicked?"
"Granger, how the bloody hell should I know? I just felt those... things on my sides and rushed for a mirror and cast like twenty Finite Incantatem on myself. And when that didn't work, I brushed my bloody teeth, had breakfast, and checked the library."
"Right." She looked down on the paper. "So, today was the first time they were... uh, properly elongated?"
He looked at her strangely. "I guess so. I don't know. They just... came out. I don't know if they'll get any longer than that."
Hermione brought the end of her pen to her lips. "You've been arguing, correct?"
"Yes."
"About?"
"None of your business."
"Malfoy," she started with warning in her voice, tapping the pen on the note book now.
"It was something familial, alright? It's not important. It was just an argument." Annoyance tinted his words.
"One that obviously upset you enough to start... whatever it is." Influenced by emotional distress? she wrote down.
"Any other incidents?"
"Granger, I'm only the third day in. It's not like I have a lot of experience with it."
Her eyes moved from the tense muscles in his jaw up to his forehead. "What about the horns?"
"They grew, too."
"But you don't have permanent signs that they are there somewhere. Not like the tentacles."
"I. Don't. Have. Tentacles." He snarled. She was wondering if she could upset him enough to make him grown them.
"Sure you do," she answered offhandedly.
"I don't have any bloody suction pads!"
"How about hooves? Do you turn your feet into hooves, as well?" She tried to colour her voice with innocence.
"What?!"
She noticed small spots of blood on his shirt. That went better than she thought. "Oh, in Muggle literature, the Devil is always depicted with hooves. And a tail. Horns, too, of course. Gosh, and I almost forgot the claws."
His eyes were small slits. "Are you comparing me to the Devil?"
"Oh, don't take it personally. I'm just collecting facts." That was the last straw because now his shirt burst at the seams and the tentacles—she relished that word in her mind—writhed out. "Here they are," she said with a smug grin.
"You just didn't!" he yelled.
"Do you remember that picture of Medusa you'd painted back in second year? With my face? That's how you look like right now. Minus the face, obviously." She couldn't suppress the triumph in her voice but leaned back and grabbed her wand when a few appendages slithered closer.
"You little bitch—" he started but she interrupted him.
"Can you control the movements?" She switched into full research-mode in the blink of an eye, and what was better than doing a little experimentation on Malfoy?
"I can't even bloody distinguish between my hands and the ten— the appendages!"
"Come on, give it a try."
"Bossy." Too bad that that growl came from Malfoy. She might've liked it even more otherwise. She even liked how his pointy chin looked more pronounced with his facial muscles tensed.
She shrugged. "Merlin, just try!"
He leaned forward to give the things on his back more room. His brows furrowed in concentration as he first opened and closed both of his fists and then jerked all of his right appendages towards her.
Hermione shrieked. "Whoa, easy there!"
"It's not like I know what I'm doing here!"
"That's nothing new then."
"Merlin's balls, Granger, if you don't stop antagonising me right now—"
"What, will you grow horns again?" She just couldn't hold back her delight anymore when, in fact, he did, and wrote her observations down as fast as she could.
Malfoy was a writhing mass of appendages. She tried to count them; five on each side, coloured a dark, scaly grey, with varying length and girth. She'd have to remember to bring measuring tape next time to get more details. His horns were darker, a bit curved, and roughly as long as her hand was. A quick glance at his feet confirmed that he didn't grow hooves—a bit of a pity, really—and he didn't seem to be sitting on a tail neither.
She examined him from his toes to his crown and finally realised that something wasn't right at all. He was panting hard and sweat ran down his face and torso, mixing with the blood from his broken skin. Instant guilt washed over her. He was in pain and she was making fun of him. She rummaged in her bag, muttering a colourful curse when she couldn't find the pain potion she always carried with her right away. Finally, she felt the vial between her fingers and pulled out the stopper as fast as she could. Adding a slug to his tea, she gestured to his cup and said, "Pain potion. Drink up."
He eyed her critically, and reached his arm out, not without tangling two of his appendices in her hair.
"Malfoy!" She squawked and held onto his additional limbs.
"Not like I'm doing it on purpose, Granger!"
They felt warm and smooth, and she couldn't resist stroking her hand up and down a few times until the sharp clink of Malfoy's tea cup on the saucer let her falter.
"Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to—"
"Just sensitive." He pressed out, words blurring together. She pulled her hand away, and her palm felt a bit funny, but besides only a very small residue of blood, she couldn't detect anything that would explain the lingering warmth. Then his appendages pulled on her hair and she quickly formed a fist around the part of her hair he was tangled in, tilting her upper body and head towards him.
"Ow!" She whined.
"Serves you right for provoking me like that, Granger."
For a second she wished the pain potion wasn't so potent. "You better learn fast how to steer those things."
"Bloody hell, I'm happy that I can locate my arms as it is."
"Alright then," she said with determination in her voice and grabbed one tentacle.
He inhaled sharply. "You really shouldn't—"
"Do you feel which one I'm touching right now?" She clutched it harder when he didn't answer for a moment, and continued to speak when he nodded with a glare. "Try to... I don't know, move the muscles of it or something."
"Move the muscles or something, she says," he muttered. "Bloody fantastic idea. Brightest witch my arse."
She fastened her grip.
"Fuck, Granger, that hurt!"
"Sorry." She loosened her hand a little and watched how coils of muscles started to work until the limb retracted. "Very good. Now the other one." When her hair was free of Malfoy, she slumped back in her chair. "Do you want to practise or do you want to start researching?"
He gulped and for the first time on this evening, Hermione sensed uncertainty in his eyes. "I don't really plan on having those things for a long time."
"I know. But it might take longer until we find something. Especially since it seems that your family was very tight-lipped about everything. Not just the... tentacles. It might come in handy for you to have full control as soon as possible. Maybe even be able to control when they appear." She felt a flare of pity as she watched him in all his tangly glory.
After a couple of deep breaths, he said, "Let's practise then."
She hesitated. "Are you ok with me touching you?"
"Not like I have that much of a choice, right?"
Hermione recoiled and answered coolly, "We can ask your mum."
"It's fine, Granger. You are fine. I don't mind you touching me."
"All right. I will take each of your tenta— appendages and you'll pull them out of my hand. Okay?" She got up from her chair and walked to his right. He nodded.
There were a few issues with ffn last night, so it took me a bit to update here. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
Please let me know what you think! Praise and constructive criticism is very welcome :). If you find a mistake, please don't hesitate to contact me on tumblr: o0sarena0o and I'll try to fix it as soon as I can.