Chapter 6 Consorting with snakes

"He's an absolute stinking wanker!" Hermione ranted, pacing back and forth in front of Harry who sat stock still on the sofa. "He's an asshole, a prick of the biggest proportions, I refuse - I REFUSE HARRY - to take part in this blackmailing any longer."

"Can you sit?"

"No." She kept on pacing. "And another thing, where does he get off? Accusing me of using him, of stealing, what an arse."

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Hermione, that is exactly what you were doing."

"That's besides the point," she said, waving her hand.

"It really is exactly the point. Look, will you stop pacing for two seconds?" Harry raised his voice and it forced her to stop. "Look at yourself, like really truly look at yourself. You said you almost slept with him so whether he's an ass or not, there was obviously something you liked otherwise you wouldn't have been tempted." He raised his hand to stop her from interrupting him. "Secondly, he was right and amazingly saw right through you, so why didn't you just come clean and ask for his help? He might be able to give us a list of possible suspects."

Hermione scoffed. "As if he can remember everyone that dislikes him, that list is probably never ending."

"My point being," Harry continued, ignoring her comment. "Getting information from Malfoy might be helpful in finding whoever it is that's blackmailing you."

Hermione shook her head. "No. Also, how do we know it isn't just him doing it for some sick and twisted game? He seems the type, he's a manipulative little snake."

"Be that as it may," Harry ventured tentatively as she started pacing again. "I don't think Malfoy has ever seen or used a muggle computer."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "But he probably has, Harry," she turned to him. "His work. He sells potions as medicine and remedies to the muggle world as well as the magical world. Which means he must have a sect of his company that deal with muggles and muggle things. He must have tried it himself to see if it worked, right? So he must have used a computer. Why didn't I ask that?"

"You think Malfoy is blackmailing you to seduce himself?"

"Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid," Hermione said, huffing and plopping herself down on the sofa next to him. "But maybe. Maybe he's messing with me, or getting some kind of thrill out of it."

"Hmm, I doubt it. Seems like an awful lot of work when he could just go and ask you on a date."

She scoffed. "You think if he asked me on a date I would have said yes? It's such an elaborately Slytherin plan, sneaky and manipulative."

Just then a letter flew in through the window, disposed of by an owl that didn't stick around for payment. Hermione picked up the letter addressed to herself in typed font. She sighed and opened it to see the words: Disappointing - I was enjoying the show. Disgust filled her veins and she handed the letter over to Harry to read.

"How could this person have been watching us if he isn't just Malfoy? There was no one else in that room."

Harry set the letter down, looking at it on the table as his mind worked. Hermione watched him, seeing him try to connect some invisible dots she was too angry to try to focus on.

"Weren't the other letters instructional?" He asked. Hermione hesitated. "In the phone call he told you what to do, in the next letter he told you to flirt. This isn't instructional. This is personal."

"You think Malfoy isn't the intended target?"

"I think this person is hitting two birds with one stone. They're enjoying watching you, but not only that, they are enjoying watching you struggle to be around your childhood bully, while at the same time thinking it's degrading for Malfoy because muggleborns are beneath him right?"

"Harry please tell me you're going somewhere with this," she said, getting slightly irritated.

"It's not only a game for this person, it's a turn on."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Ew gross."

"Yes well, welcome to my line of work," Harry said, picking up the letter again. "Disappointing… not 'you disappointed me' or 'I'm disappointed', it's not personal despite what he says after being personal. This note is meant to make you feel bad, but in the sense of feeling dirty. I think this person is a pureblood."

"That is a wild jump to make Harry, a pretty big assumption for a six word long letter."

"No think about it, this blackmailer wants not only to get something from Malfoy but also to humiliate him."

"Thanks," she said, deadpan.

Harry waved her off. "To a pureblood what are the two worst things that can happen to you?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, marrying a muggleborn might be one of them."

"Right, and losing your fortune or tainting your name and reputation. So what if there is nothing behind any bloodwards? What if the thing this blackmailer really wants is to successfully trick Malfoy into marrying a muggleborn only for him to find out it was all a lie, a set up and now he looks the ultimate fool?"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue and then shut it, thinking it over. "That's… possible. But incredibly convoluted. Also there are way too many variables. What if Malfoy wouldn't want to date me, let alone marry me? There are too many things that could go wrong with this plan."

"Unless," Harry said, looking at her. "There was some kind of guarantee."

"What does that mean?" Hermione said, seeing him get that annoying look on his face of revelation. Of realising something before she did.

"Maybe the thing that was the most certain was him wanting it?"

Hermione scoffed out a laugh. "Harry, Malfoy hasn't been harboring some weird crush on me all these years, that doesn't make any sense."

"Doesn't it?" Harry said. "Think about it, this person knows Malfoy. They must, otherwise they wouldn't be targeting him in such a personal manner. They specifically picked you for this task, blackmailing you - if it was about humiliating him they could have gotten whomever right? So why you?"

"Anyone that went to Hogwarts would know we hated each other," Hermione supplied. "So couldn't you also say they were in Hogwarts around the same time as us?"

Harry waved it off. "Of course, but there were way too many people at Hogwarts, that doesn't help us. What will help us is knowing who has been fired from Malfoy's employ recently."

"You think this person worked for him?"

"Definitely, and they were either fired or they still work there and harbour a very strong hatred for him."

"These are still just speculations," Hermione ventured.

"Yes, but my gut is saying this is the correct path of speculation, gives us a place to start." He stood up from the sofa. "I'm going to bed, I recommend you do the same."

Hermione nodded absently, eyeing the letter that rested on the table in front of them.

"Hey," he said, gentler this time. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Hermione smiled weakly, "Thanks Harry." Once he left she took a deep and steadying breath, going over everything they'd said. But her mind wandered specifically to the ridiculous idea of Malfoy wanting her in the first place. She thought back to their first interaction at the Cambridge, how quickly he seemed to think she was there specifically for a shad, and how okay he was with it.

"Just like people have some kind of fascination and curiosity about me, same goes for you"

That's what he'd said, that he had a fascination, a curiosity. But how deep did that really go? Sure, Hermione had often thought back to her Hogwarts days and there were boys she was curious about from back then. Neville, for one, she had wondered about, even the quidditch fanatic Oliver Wood who was quite a few years older than her. Was that all this was? Some kind of interest with knowing what it would be like to kiss them? Even if she was curious about those men specifically she didn't see how she would go through such trouble to seduce them - how was it worth it? Malfoy had spent a lot of time just conversing with her. Had that just been a trick to lower her guard? And for what purpose, exactly, so he could take advantage?

Hermione got up, taking the letter with her upstairs and stuffing it back into the drawer Harry had found too quickly before. She made a mental note to herself to find a new hiding place for things. Just as she closed the drawer she recalled the look on his face, a flash of grey eyes widening with want. With lust.

She shook her head free of the thought, shedding her disheveled and crinkly work clothes, the shirt she had buttoned up wrong after he opened it. If she closed her eyes she could feel his fingers pushing the fabric aside and resting his hands on her belly, teasing her. The hairs raised on her arms as a shiver coursed through her, pebbling her skin. She could feel the tingle of his lips against hers, on her neck.

"Is it always like this?" -"No"

He had sounded hungry, starved. He was so closed off when they conversed, giving himself time to answer with a calculated air, nothing would ever slip out accidentally, everything was planned. But there, when they kissed, when she touched him - it was raw, it was unbridled and unfiltered.

"I was enjoying the show"

Whoever her blackmailer was, he had been watching them - both of them. Harry was probably right, the blackmailer couldn't be Malfoy. But how had they been able to watch them? The curtains on the windows had been pulled so you wouldn't see through that, not to mention they'd have to get onto the property, which she assumed would be quite a difficult thing. Malfoy liked his privacy. The study itself was proof enough of that. Maybe she was thinking of this all wrong. She was thinking like a witch instead of a muggle. Malfoy knew she would prefer to be surrounded by books and therefore took her to the study, would her blackmailer have known the same? Did he plant cameras in the room? How long had he been planning this?

Hermione went to bed with her mind racing with thoughts and possibilities. She tried to think of people from her years in Hogwarts who might have held a dislike for her, but that only made her think all of Slytherin house could be a suspect which wasn't helpful. But thinking about that was a lot better than focusing on the feeling of Malfoy's hand in her hair, his breath on her face, his tongue around her nipple… fuck.

She opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling.

The fact of the matter was her parents could be in very real danger. She couldn't lose sight of that.

The feel of his soft lips moving against hers had been electric.

She was basically being blackmailed into selling herself, what was she thinking? What was she doing? Why would she even agree to this?

"Would you like me to tell you how hard I would fuck you against that bookshelf?"

No one had spoken to her like that before. So crude but straight to the point, no bullshit, no hesitation. Blunt. It was hot. His confidence, though annoying and arrogant, was a definite turn on. How he seemed to just take what he wanted, state and know exactly what he wanted. There was no hesitation, no indecision. Being able to shut off her brain had been such a nice reprieve, something she sorely missed now while lying in bed trying to fall asleep and not think about the sinful things he had said while standing flush up against her.

What was wrong with her? How could she lie there and think about Malfoy? She needed help, she needed therapy, she needed him to touch her. Fuck.

Maybe… maybe it would help her brain stop working so much.

Hermione bit her lip and hesitated, as if someone could see her and judge her, but she knew she was alone. So why was it such a big deal? Everyone did it. There was no harm in enjoying a fantasy was there? That was the good part, it was fantasy and not the real thing. She could fix all his annoying flaws, have him behave like a non arrogant prick.

She closed her eyes and saw his face above her, his eyes staring at her lips as she darted her tongue out. Her hand moved over her breasts, imagining it was him touching her. Her hand travelled down past her stomach and she was aching. Gods she wanted to beg for him to touch her. She heard him whispering her name against her lips, while she unbuttoned his trousers.

She touched her fingers to the slickness and moved them up where she wished he'd touched her. Behind her closed lids she could see him stop his kisses, his annoying smirk was back on his face and he guided her not against the bookshelf but to the desk, turning her around briskly and pushing her down on top of it. Good girl, he whispered in her ear and she shivered. Gods this fantasy was so problematic but she couldn't be doubting it now. It was just fantasy, that didn't mean it was what she actually wanted.

His hands moved down her backside and he spanked her. She jumped but stayed in place.

Such a good little m- Nope.

Her eyes snapped open, she sighed and adjusted herself on the bed. So that's where the line was, she definitely couldn't think that. That was too much. She closed her eyes and started again.

He bent her over the desk, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, leaning over her so she felt his arousal against her bum. I'm going to make you scream he said in her ear. And she would boldly wiggle herself against him. Her thoughts skipped ahead, they were already naked, in her thoughts she could see he was fit and she could enjoy it. She imagined his hands moving over her back, grabbing her hips as he thrust inside her.

She came to the echo of fantasy-Malfoy groaning her name in pleasure as he came inside her.

Something Hermione Granger disliked greatly in her daily life was people telling her what to do. So it came as a surprise to her that in the morning as she showered she found her pleasure in fantasising about Malfoy giving her orders and her obeying it.

She was still furious with him though. And she definitely wasn't just trying to convince herself of that because the alternative would be liking him. Which she decidedly did not. Obviously.

Work that day was disgustingly boring. More paperwork and more worrying which meant time for her mind to wander to things she didn't want them to. At lunch Hermione wanted nothing more than to just go home and do research, but that wasn't on her - that was on Harry now. If her younger self could hear her now she would be laughing, Harry doing his own research? But she had faith in him. Doing nothing wasn't Hermione's strong suit. Letting other people do the work wasn't something she enjoyed.

Hermione went to buy a muffin and a coffee in the café inside the ministry, at the counter she gave in and bought a cake slice as well - wanting a little pick me up. She grabbed her things and turned to walk to a table but bumped into someone and dropped her cup of coffee which spilled everywhere on the floor, including on her shoes.

"Sorry!" The man opposite her said, waving his wand to clean up the mess. "Let me buy you another, how about it Granger?"

The smirk above her was plastered on a familiar face she had seen sitting at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts.

"Nott?" Hermione asked hesitantly, his name floating to the forefront of her mind through a hazy fog. She had seen him around school and in classes but he had been very quiet and reserved.

He nodded. "Let me buy you another, least I can do for being so clumsy. What was it?"

Hermione hesitated then heard the word coffee slip between her lips without her permission. Before she knew it he was pointing her to a table and going past her to order her a new coffee. She sat down and looked up at him when he came back and sat down in the chair opposite her with a coffee of his own. He handed her the cup with a grin.

She took it and then took a befuddled breath. "Uhm, why-"

"Am I sitting with you? I'm quite curious about what the great Hermione Granger is up to."

"I don't know you."

"But we're old school pals you and I," he said with another grin, sipping at his coffee. "Can't old pals catch up?" He gave her a wink and Hermione's stomach clenched.

"I guess… are you always this forward with people you don't know?" She picked at her muffin, ignoring the coffee he brought her, too scared to even dare drink from it. Caution never hurt anyone. Constant vigilance.

"Yes," he said bluntly with a shrug. "I've heard some interesting things going around you see."

"Listen to gossip do you?"

"Only the gossip that matters. Like having drinks with certain wizards in a well known muggle establishment," he said very pointedly, giving her a wink over his coffee cup.

"Right." She popped a piece of muffin in her mouth to buy herself some time. Could she somehow contact Harry without Nott noticing? "Is that gossip that's going far?"

"Nah, I'm lucky to get the inside scoop."

Hermione swallowed and got up. "Well this was a lovely… catch up," she said, picking up a napkin and shoving her cake and muffin into it as quickly as she could. "Nott." She nodded her head and then bolted out of the café, hoping he wasn't following her. She only let go of her shaky breath once alone in one of the lifts. Slowly the lift filled and Hermione stepped out on her floor, heading back to her desk. She barely got to eat half of her muffin before she was pulled into a meeting. It was an interdepartmental meeting and so Hermione was taking notes minding her own goddamn business when the devil himself walked in.

"Apologies for being late, another meeting ran long." Malfoy walked in and took an empty seat on the other end of the table. He unbuttoned his muggle jacket and leaned back in his chair, looking at the head of the DMLE who was heading the meeting. They dismissed his apology and trudged on. Hermione however, stared at his back with her quill clutched tightly between her fingers. Not only did he have the audacity to join late, but he was wearing fancy muggle attire - a three piece suit no less! He clasped his hands on the meeting table and turned a ring over and over his finger. Hermione was mesmerized by the action. Then she saw movement and glanced up, catching his eye. He smirked. The bastard. She quickly started to take notes in such an aggressive fashion that they were barely legible through the ink blots and stains across the page.

She really didn't care though. How good he looked in that suit. Not at all. She was just fuming because he was so incredibly rude arriving late. Hermione sighed, disappointed in her own lack of explanation for the heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn't angry at something so stupid, but at herself. The stolen glances she took, at his hands, his shoulders, the back of his head. But it wasn't really fair was it? He could just sit there without a care in the world. He sat there so stoic, nothing could possibly make him budge and all Hermione wanted to do was ruin the perfection and expose the mess that was underneath by mussing her hands in his hair, unbuttoning that stupid vest and-

"Granger," the head of the DMLE had said her name.

"Yes, sir?" She quickly answered, feeling that her face was burning hot.

"What have you gathered on those Grindilow eggs?"

"Well, we've tracked down two, as you know and we're trying to find the rest through the first connection but it's going slowly, sir." She tried not to fiddle with her quill as she felt everyone's eyes on her.

"Right, and have you written up the report for that as well as the," he said looking at a piece of parchment in front of him. "Nifflers?"

"Ehem, yes sir," she said, still feeling embarrassed. "We know where the Nifflers are we just need a team to go down with permission."

"Is that paperwork ready?"

Hermione held back a sigh, remembering the every-growing pile of parchment littering her desk. "No sir."

"Get on it."

"Yes sir." Hermione bent her head and took a breath, feeling everyone shift back to look to the front of the room and she chanced a look up, immediately regretting it. Malfoy was still looking at her, with that annoying smirk on his face. She wanted to punch it off. Or something else. Maybe.

The meeting ended and Hermione put away her ink-stained and unreadable notes back into the pocket of her robes, heading out behind a slow grey haired and limping wizard from the second floor.

"Look what the cat dragged in," someone said in the hallway when she stepped out.

Hermione turned and saw the dark complexion of Blaise Zabini, leaning against the wall just outside the conference room doors.

"What is this a Slytherin convention?" Hermione huffed out in frustration.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her as Malfoy stepped out of the doors. "Just a lunch date actually," Malfoy said, smirking at her.

"No need to bring our old house rivalries is there Granger?" Zabini said. "Kind of prejudiced."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, indignant.

Zabini laughed. "So easy to rile up Granger, not changed much have you?"

"I'll have you know, I have changed plenty," she said through gritted teeth.

Zabini looked her up and down. "I suppose some things definitely did change." He smirked.

Hermione shook her head, feeling a little grossed out. "It was nice seeing you again," she said to the both of them, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Then she stormed off to go back to her office and finish the pile of paperwork on her desk. She might have to stay very late indeed.

The office floor was dark except for a small desk lamp shining bright in the cubicle farthest from the coffee machine. Hermione realised this the multiple times she had to get up and have coffee just to keep herself awake after everyone else had left. But now she was too tired to get up. Hunched over the dwindling pile of paperwork she had left, Hermione was determined to finish it. She could not go home before she was done. Again she dipped her quill into the ink and dragged the point against the paper. She squinted, finishing her signature and moving the paper into the large pile to her left. Hermione shook her head, grabbing the next piece of paper and aiming for her inkpot, the words blurring in front of her. She set the quill down in the ink as she read the top of the form.

"As article 6 subsection 24, header 14 states that all…" Hermione cleared her throat and stopped reading aloud but continuing in her head. She blinked, the words had moved. She started over. As article 6 subsection 22 - no - 24, header 14 states that all creatures of… of… Hermione's head fell on top of the parchment, slowly, but surely, she was fast asleep.

Hermione awoke with a start. She pulled the paper off her sticky forehead and set it back down. Her lamp had been turned off - how odd. She switched it back on and was about to check the time but she saw a note that had definitely not been on her desk before and stopped dead, staring at it. Next to it, where she definitely had not left it, was her quill, leaking ink onto her desk. Someone had come while she was sleeping, written a note with her own quill and left it there. Hermione quickly looked around but knew it would be futile. Just in case she quickly did a homenum revelio spell, which came up empty. No one else was there. She swallowed her fear and picked up the note with trembling fingers, scanning it for any trace of magic - but no luck. She checked her quill as well - nothing.

Ms Granger, consorting with snakes? I thought you smarter than that. Now there is even more at stake.

On her desk there were photos, that had been placed underneath the letter. There was one of Ginny flying at Harpies practice, and another of Harry walking in Diagon Alley looking very haggard. Hermione took in a shaky breath. He was now threatening her friends.

What could she do?