Thursday morning, Hermione was in the library reading about a particular breed of dark creature called the Night Terror in preparation for reading about the Night Terror's more widely known cousin, the Night Mare. They were both vaguely horse shaped spectral beings which fed on the fear of all animals by manipulating a creature's dreams. The presence of either species made any sleeping being have bad dreams in varying degrees based on the species, the fear would pour out of the victim and the Night Mare (or Terror) would feast. She had stumbled across the name and was merely satisfying her curiosity on the magical creatures.
The soft clink of a cup in its saucer being placed on the table next to her reminded her that the world outside of her mind existed. Not looking up, she said, "Thanks," to the elf she presumed had brought the cup. She took a sip and winced, "A bit less sugar next time, alright?" She said still not looking up. She reached her hand out to pat the head of her new favorite elf.
In times of war the Night Terror begins a rapid reproduction cycle and lays many crops of eggs in the fallen-
That was not Floppy's head.
Cloth.
Her stream of consciousness froze as though caught on a tack.
"I'll remember that," a drawling voice answered, "If I ever bring you a drink again. Would you now care to explain what exactly your hand is doing on my leg?"
She snatched her hand back and looked up at the amused gaze of Draco Malfoy. "Sorry, I uh… I thought you were Floppy."
His smirk grew, "Well, I don't think it appropriate to be speculating on that exactly." Hermione's face exploded into a blush and she looked away. "Oh come on, Granger. You walked into that one. Don't go all prude on me when I jump on the joke."
"Child." Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. "When did you get back? Was there a reason you came in here, Malfoy? Why are you bringing me coffee, I mean?"
He sat in the arm chair across from her while she spoke. He tented his fingers under his chin and spent a moment with his eyes closed, examining her in his mind's eye. He opened them and was surprised all over again about the flutter of nerves having her nearby still awoke within him. It was… inappropriate. "Floppy has mentioned your interest in the Daily Prophet. An article in today's has caught my eye," He answered finally, trying- and failing- to not sound stiff and formal.
"It's not about me is it?" Hermione asked, worried. "I mean… it's too soon for people to know I'm dead, right?"
His cold eyes warmed slightly and then hardened again just as fast. "Not about you. The werewolves." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration at his nervousness coming through in the gesture and summoned the paper, then handed it across the short distance between them.
Werewolves Attack Muggle London
30-40 Muggles Turned, Even More Killed!
Hermione's nose crinkled in repulsion. The excited tone of the article was disgusting. She checked that where the attack happened was not near where her parents used to live and ignored the twinge of guilt associated with thinking about her parents. "While disgusting, I don't see why-"
"Look at the date of the attack."
She looked again and realized it was the same day, although a few miles away, as when she had gone to meet Ron. When she had come back to the Order.
"How did… coincidence?"
"I'm not sure. I'm also very curious why this article came out today, given the attack happened days ago."
"Wait. Did you hear about it at all? In your meetings with you know… them?"
"No, but they almost never have explicit plans for the packs." He stood and walked toward the fireplace. "Just a general idea of where they might want to go next time. Werewolves don't take orders very well, you see. Do you think you might have been followed to that pub?"
Hermione thought back to that night. Her nerves and hyperaware examination of everyone she crossed paths with on the road. "I don't think so. I tried to not dress like myself and not look like myself but… that only goes so far without magic- I mean I was as cautious as I could possibly be and-"
He smirked, looking back at her from where he stood by the fireplace, "It's just a question Granger. Not an aptitude test. Not your OWLs. I don't think it's any more than coincidence."
She huffed in irritation at him. "Was that all you came to speak to me about or were you planning on making fun of me some more?"
"Well, not exactly planning, but should the opportunity present itself…" He shrugged.
She frowned at him to try to hide the laughter she felt bubbling in her chest.
"Oh come on, Granger. Lighten up would you? I've had an especially horrible week." He sat down again, and she wondered why he had stood to begin with.
"Oh, you've had a horrible week have you? I had to fake my own death this week, you know. I was shot at for heaven's sake! What could have been so bad for you?"
The flurry of expression that passed through Malfoy's eyes were hard to follow, but surprise was not present. "Things I should really rather not discuss in present company." He answered dryly. "Fine, I see your point, no pleasantries then. How's the research coming along?"
Floppy did tell him then. "Well enough. I've a long list of possibilities to sort through, but I'm making progress. I'll need you to give me more information." She made a mental note that Floppy would tell him anything she said and so to guard her tongue.
"Fine. And your accommodations are appropriate?"
"Yes, thank you."
He nodded and crossed his legs again. "Chess?"
She glanced at her book, then back to him. "Fine. Though I'm not terribly good at wizard's chess."
"Boring muggle chess then?"
She blinked in surprise. "Alright. But you must tell me everything you know about Him while we play."
Draco nodded and waved his wand for the board and pieces. With another wave, the pieces were in their right places and Hermione began by moving a pawn. "Tell me about him," She said as he moved his own pawn.
A small smirk and dark humor flashed in his slate eyes. "He lives, much to my chagrin."
"Is that all you would say on the matter?" She invited, debating with her aggravation.
"Of course not," He answered, bringing out a bishop carelessly. "He's a monster. Preoccupied with finding and destroying every last ray of hope in the country and he uses me to do his dirty work." She had moved another pawn and he brought his own out to meet it. "A bit forthright in your attack, eh, Granger? Just as well. You Gryffindors are all like that." She frowned at him. "Oh don't look so cross. You'd be rubbish at poker. What do you need to know?"
She sighed and moved a rook, realizing he'd not known what to say and lashed out. "Let's start with the beginning. Do you know how He became Harry?"
"Not the details. There was a larger battle going on, you'll remember." She glared and he grinned, moving his bishop again. "Let's see, you were there when his body was presented, yes?"
Hermione nodded and took his rook.
"When Potter made his move, chaos erupted. From what I could gather, it seems that the pair of them had their grand battle at the top of the astronomy tower. Potter grabbed Him and they were meant to fall to their death… Only something went wrong." Draco paused and examined the board. He'd taken a knight from her and she had set up a trap in four moves. He had two options to get out of it. He chose the riskier of the two, curious what option she would take. "When the change happened, the Death Eaters were called immediately to his side. A momentary confusion, you can imagine, happened afterward. Several people attempted to kill him. No effect. They were punished for… attempting to steal the glory of the Dark Lord." He rolled his eyes. "We had all been instructed to restrain Potter, not kill or even injure."
She was staring at the board, engrossed in his tale. "What did they try, do you know? What were the effects? I know some one has tried at least the Killing Curse, has anyone tried any of the other Unforgivables? Did he block them with a spell or was it a-"
Draco laughed. "Calm down. You're barely coherent when you speak so fast." He watched a blush spread across her high cheekbones. Still she didn't look at him. "I don't know exactly what they tried, though it seemed like the spells all just rebounded off him. It didn't look like it took any effort."
"Did he have Harry's wand or His?"
"His."
Hermione made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat and a few moves later took Draco's queen with a rook. Then she glanced at his face to enjoy the scowl. "What about injuries? Physical ones? Did he have broken bones or wounds or anything?"
Draco had been scowling at the board and glanced up, meeting her eyes. A hot flush seemed to erupt within him and he frowned deeper. Could he at least use nonverbal cues? It seemed not.
"What, I start to win and now you don't want to talk?"
"I can't, Granger," He growled.
"You-" She glanced at his face again. Saw something resembling honesty in it. She made the thoughtful noise in her throat again. "Interesting. That means there is a physical wound and it's tied to something which is weakening him. Or shows his weakness. Very interesting." She waited for Draco to make his move and then slid her last piece into place. "Check."
His scowl deepened. He'd known she was smart, but seeing her instantly work out something which had taken him a week to conclude was both frustrating and enlightening. Perhaps the Order was right to put so much faith in her. He moved his king.
"Checkmate," She said softly and then turned to her notes and began scribbling furiously.
Draco stared at the board. How had she set up multiple traps so quickly? And while working on this problem at the same time? Merlin she was… a mudblood he reminded himself. Not something he liked. Not something to respect. Not something to be anything to him but a prop to be used for his personal gains. He needed to regain the upper hand. But how?
"Floppy," He called.
When she appeared she bowed to him and said, "Hello Master Draco. How can Floppy be of assistance?"
"How are the potions doing?"
"Very well, Master. Only two more weeks for one and another will be ready in twelve hours."
"Wonderful. And for this evenings dinner?"
"This evening will begin with creamy leek soup. Braised short ribs with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus spears will be the main course."
"Delightful. Check in my other residences for mail. Then make sure you mend that cloak I brought you. Oh, and a firewhiskey. Bring me the decanter and something for a snack."
Floppy nodded. With a gesture Draco dismissed her and gauged the reaction from the frizzy headed witch. No outward irritation. Interesting.
Oh adorable. He thinks he can goad me into something with so brazen of a power play? What an idiot. "Tell me what you can about your dark mark. I fear I only have hearsay and superstition to go on, though I'm fairly certain it's based on the Protean Charm." Hermione invited quietly when she put her book aside and manually put the pieces back at their starting point.
He was actually slightly disappointed that she hadn't gotten riled up in his dismissive attitude of Floppy. He had expected her to be more… well more herself. No self-righteousness? She hadn't even shown interest in the potions. And that was strange wasn't it? Hadn't he always known her to be one of the nosiest people on the planet? Seems like he remembered her to always want to know everything. Especially if the actions of anyone was potentially evil or malicious or against the rules. Maybe she didn't think him evil or some other such rubbish. Well, she would likely be the first person to not believe him to be evil in some respect, so that would be a change. But she had never treated him as anything but suspicious so that probably wasn't it. Did he even know anything about her? He couldn't think of much beyond her blood status, vast wealth of knowledge, general bossy attitude, mostly bitchy nature, and her insufferable attention seeking through academia. Perhaps there must be some courage or bravery somewhere in there, and certainly there must be loyalty or else how had she been sorted into Gryffindor?
"Malfoy?" She said quietly.
He'd forgotten she was there. He'd been thinking so hard he'd forgotten the object of his line of thought was in front of him, waiting for him to make his move and answer her question. "Right." He moved a pawn out, using a different strategy. "The Dark mark is… probably a spell that He came up with." Draco stared at the board, oddly disturbed by having to discuss the brand on his arm. He removed his cufflink on his left sleeve and rolled the fabric back, showing her the marred skin, to prove to himself as much as her that the conversation didn't bother him. "Don't touch it. I'm sure you've never seen one up close."
"No, I haven't," She responded, softly, looking at the Dark Mark he displayed. "When you're signalled, does it burn as I've been lead to believe?"
"Worse than any physical burn I've experienced," He answered, trying not to show pain in his face. "It aches most of the time. Like a… like new skin. You know, like when you scrape off some and it grows back."
She glanced at his face and his face was unguarded for the briefest of moments. She was surprised to see sorrow and fear in his expression. Then the metaphorical mask of indifference came back and she almost wished she could have seen below the surface for longer. I am just lonely, not actually interested in being his friend she told herself. "When you got it? Do you remember the spell?"
He shook his head. "It was… a traumatic experience. I don't remember the details very well."
She frowned and looked again at the Mark. She saw the snake moving slightly, as though repositioning itself in its sleep. "Is it.. How do you activate it?" She had almost foolishly asked if it was alive.
"You touch it with your wand, there is a nonverbal spell that goes along with it, though saying it aloud also activates it, so, forgive me for not speaking it to satisfy your curiosity."
She rolled her eyes. Leaning back, she nodded her head to indicate she was done examining it. He rolled down his sleeve. She made her next move while she turned the image around in her mind. Thinking about the things Harry had told her about Voldemort. Reexamining the Dark Mark again in her mind. She wondered what the symbols meant to Voldemort. Why pick those images together… Malfoy made his move and Hermione took her own turn.
The silent movements of the marble pieces in the quiet of the library beginning to bother Hermione again. The silence seemed to scream in all its possibilities. Her mind began its ritualistic list of possible tragedies. "Can you give me an idea of what's controlled by Him?" she asked instead of begging him to tell her anything as long as it took over this silence stretching out between them and causing her soul to creak in protest. She couldn't have understood her own feelings on the silence if she had tried but for now she didn't want to think of it. He met her eyes and she practically felt the attempt to understand her in the gaze. Did he know? Could he know? How would he ever understand how much pain there is in the silence of this prison? In the silence of my life?
"He is in control of everything. He's Imperio-ed or intimidated every witch or wizard still free in the British Isles. The others are in his ranks, or his inner circle. The small uprisings are how I still have a job." He answered, sensing there was something wrong beneath the surface of her calm expression. Something that made her eyes rigid and mouth tight.
"What does that mean?" she asked, moving her bishop across the board and taking his rook.
"I'm responsible for sniffing out and squashing the people who resist his rule, Granger. How do you think I know what to warn the Order about?"
Well, that's unpleasant. "But you can't get away with that every time, surely. You wouldn't have so much power if you failed all the time." She pointed out, her heart calming the more they spoke and warded off the silence.
He smirked. "Of course not. But it's easy enough to fake deaths and get witches and wizards out of the country. You did it, and you even did it without magic."
She realized he was trying to be funny, but for whatever reason felt herself resenting him for it. How could he dare to try to be funny in this world? She certainly hadn't felt humor appropriate to the discussion at hand. He took her queen and she felt the anger spilling over her containment of it. "Yes," she said tightly. "I did do it without magic. I haven't been able to use magic for more than five years, if you'll remember." She physically bit her tongue to end the stupid petty tirade where it was. She sighed and focused on her fingertips. She counted the ridges on her fingerprints, trying to get control of her emotions before she spontaneously used magic. She'd never known if wandless magic would trip some sensor in the wand tracking department, but she didn't want to find out just then.
"I know, Granger." Malfoy answered her after a moment.
Her pride demanded that she correct him. He didn't know what it was like to live without magic. He'd had it his whole life. He'd never been anything but a wizard. She was the one who had gone back and forth in her life and he could never understand the sheer terror of waking in the middle of the night to another nightmare and finding the room floating around you and having to run because you couldn't wait around to find out if it would draw Death Eaters to kill you, even if there was a literal ocean between you.
She bit her tongue harder. Tasted the coppery tang of blood. Took a deep breath. Took the first piece of a trap intended to wipe out half his forces. Met his eyes. Said, "No you don't. And if I have my way, Malfoy, you never will."
He saw the old Hermione staring at him, then. Not the hollowed out shell of a woman who had been speaking to him until then. He smiled a small smile, actually relieved to see that the skin of the girl he had grown up hating still held the spirit of the woman he'd secretly admired. It made his next sentence all the sweeter to be looking at the fiery glare of his former rival when he said, "Checkmate."
A/N: I'm so sorry! I forgot to post last week! I've been wrestling with my real life a lot lately so I've been massively busy. I'll get back to my normal weekly posting schedule. Normally I would have doubled up on the chapters but I think I'll just go with this chapter and then new chapter next Monday. This chapter feels pretty satisfying for me as the reader as well as the author. Like there's no cliffhanger or anything. The conversation continues, but I really want to hear your thoughts on this info without revealing the next bits of information. So lemme know what you think!
Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites!