Chapter 24

Strip for me.

I already did.

Do it again. I only saw your arse last time.

Wanker.

And one breast.

Sodding. Wanker.

You seem upset.

What do I get in return for this striptease?

Meet with me now and I'll show you.

You're all bluster.

Say that again when I'm balls deep inside you.

Typical. No finesse at all.

Low expectations from previous experience?

Realistic expectations from current experience.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione watched Malfoy stalk angrily across her room, shooting her the occasional glare and punctuating his words with an index finger in her direction. She was nervous, but preferred him when he was angry and yelling at her. Their last meeting had left her breathless, worried and embarrassingly worked up after he threatened to… She still didn't know exactly what that was.

Threatening snogging? Dangerous making-out? She felt a warmth between her legs just remembering how close he had been. She was terrified he'd kiss her. Terrified and then… disappointed that he hadn't.

This was all so wrong.

"You've captured two Inner Circle members with no losses and I know for a fact that several of our operations were fucked up because of knowledge you got from them. Not to mention what you learned from Dolohov because I told you about the Veritaserum, and that Scarhead hasn't had his stupid arse captured from the taboo."

Despite her efforts to appear apathetic, Malfoy knew his value as a spy. He was too intelligent to believe otherwise. Striding back and forth gave him the appearance of a predatory cat, like a tiger.

"I gave you that fucking blood, knew about the raid, and everything went smoothly. That's not a demonstration of trust?"

He had a point. But she hadn't told anyone that he knew of the raid. A lie by omission that came back to bite her in the arse in a way she hadn't predicted.

Malfoy reared on her. "I want an Unbreakable Vow for the pardons and I want it now, Granger. What is the hold up?"

Hermione had to come up with something to assuage him, but she didn't know what. Maybe Kingsley would give in, at least for him and his mother, if he understood that Malfoy was close to breaking their arrangement. She'd have to tell him and Tonks about her agreement for the blood though. A conversation she wasn't looking forward to having.

At all.

"Will you accept a promise without an Unbreakable Vow?" she offered.

Pathetic.

In response to her question, he shot her a look of such incredible disdain that if she wouldn't have witnessed how much he'd changed personally, she would have expected him to follow up by insulting her blood status next.

"Do I know even know this person?"

"I guess it's possible."

He definitely did. If Malfoy was helping his father grapple with the Ministry, he probably interacted with Kingsley quite regularly. It was highly dangerous for Malfoy to know of Kingsley's involvement even if he could be trusted with that information. Even if he was an excellent Occlumens.

Hermione didn't know if Kingsley would agree to a promise anyway, but at least it wouldn't compromise his identity. In any case, there was no way he would guarantee a pardon for Lucius Malfoy. A pardon for Narcissa and Draco was one thing, since they hadn't committed the extent of crimes that Lucius had.

She didn't even know how to ask Draco if he would accept a pardon for just himself and his mother for now, without him catching on that his father would never receive one. And she was afraid that if he found out, Malfoy would stop spying for them. She didn't know how long she could string him along with the promise of an eventual pardon for all three.

Hermione didn't like lying to him, but she didn't want him to stop helping the Order either.

"This person doesn't want to reveal their identity to you yet. I could ask if they would do it before Obliviating y-"

"Fuck no," Malfoy cut her off, waving his hand angrily in the air. "I don't have control over my life, I don't have control over my body." He stopped pacing and turned to her. "You think I'd give up control over my mind?" His voice rose in an angry desperation. "That's the only part of me I have left!"

No. No. No.

She knew enough about him by now to understand that he would never agree to be Obliviated either, which is why she offered in the first place. She had to appear that she was trying, so the situation didn't seem hopeless.

Hermione bit her lip. She felt badly for Malfoy. He was endangering his life and wouldn't get what he wanted out of this arrangement. And she was allowing him to believe that he eventually would. But they could give him something else instead.

"What if we could offer you back some control over your body?"

She wasn't authorized to offer him the implant extraction, but she couldn't see the harm in it. Sometimes one had to make judgement calls. As with the Nott raid, it was easier to request forgiveness than ask for permission.

Reflexively, Malfoy brought his hand up to his abdomen. Hermione's eyes followed the movement of his fingers, pressing into the fabric of his T- shirt. He looked down at his stomach in thought for a few minutes, and his posture deflated as the anger slowly left him.

"How long will it take?"

Hermione tried to recall the day she delivered Mary her Portkeys. She had only seen Mary, Terry and Cho complete the extraction on Bixley, and hadn't witnessed the whole procedure. Mary explained that Apparition directly afterwards might cause internal bleeding, so Malfoy would have to be absent for longer than the procedure itself.

"I'm not sure, but you'll get complications from Apparating back too soon. You might need a Healer."

He glanced to the side in thought. "That would rouse suspicion."

She nodded and he flicked his eyes back to her.

"What about Portkeys?"

She was so jealous. Malfoy probably had enough Portkeys for each and every family member, near and distant, one for each of the house elves, one for each day of the week, for each of their property holdings and with plenty to spare.

They probably used Portkeys as paperweights and door jams. To live a life of excess…

"I don't remember exactly, but they're not as detrimental as Apparition post-surgery. I'll find out the details."

Brilliant.

Now she had to talk with Mary.

She hoped the prat appreciated what she was going through for him.

oooooooooooo

"But this isn't an extraction for a prisoner," Mary repeated.

"No," Hermione answered, trying to suppress her irritation and avoid another fight.

She had to twist her arm for everything. Not that it wasn't worth it. Every service that Mary performed for the Order was invaluable. She was irreplaceable, but the process was excruciating.

"So he's a spy?" Mary shot Hermione a disparaging look, running her hand over her greying hair. "You struck a deal with him? Tit for tat?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "It's because of him we knew about the Veritaserum to begin with."

Mary eyed her. "You only had two prisoners after they raided my house. Was he the third? The one they Crucio'd?"

Hermione flared her nostrils.

Mary picked up the tools on a bench and packed them away, hinting to Hermione in a not-so-subtle manner that she was done for the day and wanted to leave.

"I don't want to be involved with this."

She should have realized Mary wouldn't agree. She was here to mentor Cho and Terry, that was it. The extractions she was willing to do because she opposed torture for any reason. Anything outside of those responsibilities she frequently refused to do. She didn't trust the Order, or their methods.

"The information we get from him has saved lives," Hermione pressed her.

"It brought you those prisoners, more likely," Mary shot back casting a disinfecting charm on the surfaces of the tables.

"I guarantee you, they're treated better by us than You-Know-Who."

Mary's dark eyes skewered her. "I don't doubt it, but that's not the point. You're not rescuing them."

"Could Cho or Terry do it?"

She shook her head. "Not without my supervision."

"Would you supervise?"

"No."

Hermione almost stomped her foot in frustration. She hated having to go through this, every single time they needed something from her. She should have sent Kingsley. He would have maneuvered Mary into thinking that it was her own idea to take out Malfoy's implant, and by the end of the conversation Mary would have pleaded with him just to have the opportunity to do it.

Hermione could have sent Cho. Or Terry. Mary had a weak spot for the Ravenclaws.

"Why not?" The volume of her voice was rising. She was struggling to maintain a calm exterior. "Don't you want us to win this war?"

"Yes. But I'm not going to compromise all sense of morality to do so like you and," Mary waved her hand derisively, referring to the Order leadership. "the others."

Hermione exhaled through her teeth and gripped the edge of the lab table, knuckles turning white. "We have not compro-"

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Mary interrupted her, giving her a superior glance, as if she already knew the answer.

Hermione turned to her in surprise, and thought back to the Death Eaters she had blasted off of their brooms while riding the back of a thestral with Kingsley.

"In self-defense."

"But you put yourself in that position," Mary dismissed her explanation. "There could have been another solution?"

Hermione clenched her jaw. Yes, they could have avoided that battle, and Moody had died that night.

"Possibly."

"And you condone the torture of the prisoners," Mary added, still in that condescending, scolding tone of hers.

Hermione had already been through the ethics (or lack of) with Tonks and Remus. "As a last resort," she retorted, defensively. "As you are well aware, we pursued another option when it became available."

"I treated them when Tonks was done," Mary said, shaking her head. "You didn't see what Bixley and Dolohov looked like, Hermione. There's always another way. You're choosing what's easy and convenient over what's morally correct."

What right did she have to judge? Hermione was furious. Mary didn't understand what the options were, or what the consequences of each choice would be.

"Platitudes don't work when you have to make decisions and I can assure you, nothing we have done thus far has been easy or convenient." Hermione nearly growled at her.

It was only the thought that she needed Mary that kept her from outright screaming.

"We carefully weigh our options and the consequences against the larger goal of the Order. The larger goal, need I remind you, is to enable Muggle-borns such as yourself to live free and without fear. And we weigh the cost of the action be it in terms of lives, funds or – yes, ethics. The right decision isn't always clear and we do the best we can!"

Hermione would get up and defend every decision she had made thus far. Every decision the Order had made. And she would make those decisions again.

Mary narrowed her eyes at her. "Clearly, your best is not good enough when you act exactly like the tyrants you're trying to defeat!"

Hermione's voice rose. "Be thankful you don't have to make those decisions yourself and can criticize from the safety of your infirmary!"

Mary slammed her gloves on the counter and crossed her arms.

"Get out," she spat.

Fuck. Hermione blew it. She may as well go for broke.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Hermione yelled at her.

Mary narrowed her eyes at her. Angry, but calm. "I don't hate you."

"Oh really?" She raised her eyebrows. "Because you seem to manage a civil conversation with everyone else."

Mary's chin jutted out. "You changed. You wouldn't have condoned torture a few months ago, I remember. You're just as bad as Tonks now."

She was right.

"War changes people," Hermione snapped back at her. "What do your personal feelings have to do with taking out the implant?"

"Nothing," Mary retorted, nostrils flaring. "Nothing at all. I won't do it because it's unethical."

Hermione sucked in a lungful of air, readying to release her wrath.

"What?" Hermione was yelling again. "Why is it immoral to remove a spy's implant?"

"Because I don't know what you're getting in exchange for it," the older witch hissed back, angry lines appearing around her mouth. "Is he going to sabotage something? Kill someone for you? Do anything else that would lead to death and injury?"

"He's going to help!" Hermione was so angry, throwing her hands out in exasperation. "He saves lives! His knowledge has prevented death and injury to the Order! And to others that aren't in hiding! Do you have any idea how many raids the Order has done? And you've barely treated anyone for injuries! Intelligence has been critical to our success and our operations staying under the radar! It's not as if he sent us Rowle and Nott to be tortured and executed! That's not what we do! That's not who we are!"

That was a bald-faced lie.

There was no way in hell she would mention that Malfoy may very well have sent them Dolohov and Bixley to be tortured and executed. Or that he had probably been eager to draw up the estate plans after hearing that Dolohov committed suicide.

Mary flared her nostrils and her voice lowered. "Do I have your word on that?"

Hermione's reply caught in her throat, ready to be screamed. Instead, she nearly whispered from the shock of what Mary just asked.

"You value my word?"

"Just because I don't agree with your tactics doesn't mean I don't think you're honest."

Hermione blinked at her. She was unsure whether to celebrate because she won a victory, or cry because she had just lied to someone who told her she valued her integrity. And why did Mary value her integrity at all? Perhaps she appreciated the fact that she received Portkeys sooner than anyone else.

Hermione had promised her, and had followed through. Maybe Mary even felt guilty about it.

Hermione thought about how she didn't tell Tonks that she warned Malfoy about the Nott raid, and how she was stringing Malfoy along with the pardon. And how she was lying to Harry and Ron about Harry being a Horcrux. She was quite sure (and even hopeful) that Malfoy's knowledge would eventually lead to strategic advantages in battle that would definitely lead to the injury and death of those in Voldemort's Army.

That's how wars were won.

She wondered why Mary valued her honesty. Perhaps Hermione hadn't yet sacrificed it at the time.

Thankful for her lessons in Occlumency, she looked Mary squarely in the eyes and said without the slightest waver, "You have my word."

ooooooooooooo

Can you fuck me for 7 hours straight?

Can you take my cock for that long?

I'm not sure you have the stamina.

My stamina isn't the issue, you'll come so hard you'll black out.

oooooooooooooo

"Are you trying to suffocate me?" Malfoy's voice was muffled. Hermione gave him a black knit cap to pull down over his face during the implant extraction procedure. It would protect his identity while Mary worked on him. "It's a strangulation kink, Granger. Not a suffocation kink."

He was lying down on the bed in her parents' guest room, ready for Mary to begin. Mary explained earlier that given his age and health, seven hours was the absolute minimum needed for both the surgery and recovery period prior to Portkey travel. Assuming no complications. However, by sleeping overnight, Malfoy was able to guarantee eleven hours total.

To prevent any issues with his identity being discovered, Hermione thought it best to have the procedure done at her parents' house instead of Ravenclaw Tower. Mary reluctantly agreed. At least her compliance didn't require a shouting match this time.

"If you shut that obnoxious mouth of yours, I'll cut a hole so you can breathe better." She smiled. "But I must say, you're making an awfully convincing case for suffocation."

Malfoy chuckled and she pinched the fabric of the knit cap away from his mouth, carefully slicing an oval with her wand. She released the fabric and it snapped back on his face, nose and mouth now exposed.

"Ow."

"Quit whining, Malfoy."

She couldn't help looking at his lips. He would have snogged her when she woke up after they watched Return of the Jedi. Her relationship with him was getting messier and more complicated each time they met. She didn't know what to think of it anymore. Or what to think of Ron.

It was all so confusing.

"Are you staring at me?"

She nearly jumped, her gaze pulled from his lips.

"No," she lied.

"The question was rhetorical, Granger. I can see through this cap."

"Twat." She flushed and turned away from him. "Mary you can come in now," she called into the hallway, eager to get away.

The older witch strode into the guest room, already digging in her bag for the items she needed. She didn't waste any time. While arranging a series of vials and jars on the folding card table Hermione had levitated up from the basement, Mary explained in an authoritative yet detached voice what the procedure would entail, how long it would take, what the potential complications were and how long Malfoy would need to recover. He listened silently, hands folded on his chest as she lectured him on the perils of eating acidic foods in the next two weeks.

Mary may have made a fuss prior to performing the procedure, but once she had agreed, she was as thorough and as professional as could be.

It was worth the pain and aggravation of interacting with her.

Almost.

"Do you need anything before I head out?" Hermione asked her.

The Healer swiveled around to face her. "You thought you were going to leave him here by himself?"

Malfoy turned his head towards her.

"Did you need help during the procedure?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Not at all," Mary clarified, tightening her greying hair in her bun. "But someone needs to be with him overnight while he heals and oversee the sustained monitoring charm."

She cast the charm so Hermione could see what she was referring to. A bright series of lights and shapes in a human form suspended above Malfoy's torso. She pointed to the display while explaining.

"External bleeding you could fix yourself, internal you cannot. If the charm is still negative tomorrow morning, he should be able to leave via Portkey."

Mary lifted Malfoy's shirt and pressed his abdominal muscles with her hands, spreading her fingers. Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she averted her gaze. Merlin. Mary directed her attention to him.

"If you feel any pain after the Portkey I want you to contact me immediately." She glanced up at Hermione. "If the charm shows positive for internal at any time during the night, again, you must contact me immediately."

"Here Granger." Malfoy patted the space next to him on the bed. "Plenty of room for you to monitor me." His smirk was visible through the hole she cut in his cap and she blushed furiously.

"No, there will be none of that," Mary scolded him, opening his trousers and roughly tugging them down several inches and then lowering the waistline of his boxers, exposing his pelvic bone. Hermione was definitely not looking. "Hermione needs to remain awake the entire night," Mary turned back to her. "I suggest bringing a chair, some coffee and snacks. Watch something on the telly even to ensure you don't fall asleep." She turned back to Malfoy. "And you need rest. There will be no sexual intercourse tonight."

Hermione was mortified that Mary thought they had that kind of relationship. Her mouth opened and closed ineffectually, making light squawking noises as she struggled to correct her assumption.

"We do not have -"

"It's alright, Hermione," Malfoy interrupted, pronouncing her given name in the most lascivious tone possible. "If you can't control yourself after ogling me all night we'll just meet up –" He turned his head towards Mary's direction while she cast a charm over his abdomen. "When can she shag me again?"

Hermione's face was bright red and she sputtered, "We absolutely do not-"

Now Mary cut her off, already in Healer mode as she pulled on gloves. "No strenuous physical activity for at least seventy-two hours. That includes sexual intercourse."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Malfoy spoke with a lecherous smile. "But there are some forms of intercourse we could engage in which are not so physically strenuous for the male."

Hermione covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh my god."

Malfoy grinned in her direction through the hole in his cap.

Mary held a vial up, swirled the contents while peering inside and placed it on the table next to her. "If you are in a prone position, you may receive oral sex or penile stimulation as early as tomorrow evening. I do not recommend sexual intercourse with the woman on top until-"

"I'm going to get coffee!" Hermione called out loudly, abruptly turning around and leaving the room.

oooooooooooo

Hermione stretched her legs and rolled her neck. The chair by her writing desk was not meant to be slept in overnight, but she was afraid if she brought the armchair from downstairs she'd fall asleep. On the upside, the monitoring charm had been negative all night so Malfoy could leave without problem.

She tried not to, but she did ogle him all night. She was supposed to leave him uncovered both for observation's sake and to ensure his clothing didn't disturb the healing incision.

His sodding abs. They were burned into her memory forever.

Ron had been blatantly leering at the breasts of the woman she had Polyjuiced into when they were at Durmstrang. It was absolutely the same thing. She had nothing to feel bad about.

Nothing.

Malfoy was laying on his back, not having moved since the extraction. One leg was bent. One hand rested on his chest and the other on his hip, long fingers splayed across the area where his boxers were pulled down, exposing his abdomen. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He was still in a deep sleep and looked so peaceful. Her gaze shifted to his face for the millionth time, head turned to the side, facing her. She should have left the knit cap covering him. With his blond hair, pale skin, and long eyelashes, he almost appeared angelic.

When he slept, his bloody mouth couldn't ruin the illusion.

Tosser.

Malfoy's wand buzzed for his morning alarm, but he didn't wake. Mary explained that the pain medications would cause him to sleep more soundly than usual.

Hermione rested her hand on the fabric of his trousers above his shin and rubbed it lightly.

"Malfoy," she called him, her voice low. He didn't respond.

She curled her fingers tighter, feeling the bone and muscle underneath and rubbed him harder.

"Malfoy." Her voice was louder.

He shifted, his breathing changed pace, and his eyes opened slightly. She removed her hand. He blinked at her, confused, and then slowly put his palms to his eyes, rubbing them. With a groan, he lifted himself up to a sitting position and let his hands fall to his thighs.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

He turned to face her and squinted, trying to bring her into focus.

"I'd offer you coffee but you shouldn't have acidic foods for two weeks."

"That's alright," he ran his hand through his hair. It was all over the place and kept falling in his eyes. He scratched the back of his head and pushed himself up, wobbling slightly. Yawning, he adjusted his boxers and pulled his trousers up over his bum with a tug. She watched him zip the fly and button the waist. He tilted his head and caught her staring with a smirk. "Perhaps some tea this morning and penile stimulation later on tonight. Eight o'clock good for you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, got up and walked out the bedroom doorway. She was too tired to be nervous and embarrassed by his innuendo. She felt so groggy after staying up all night and wanted to get back to Paddington safe house as soon as she could to fall into bed.

"I have to work with her you know," she called back as she descended the stairs to make him tea.

As she bustled around the kitchen, she heard him enter the bathroom upstairs and the faucet run. After setting water to boil she picked out a few different tea bags for him to choose from and the biscuits he'd enjoyed when they watched Return of the Jedi.

His heavy footfalls broke the silence as he came downstairs and she poured hot water into the two mugs. She chose a lemon-flavored tea for herself. Malfoy entered the kitchen, eyed the choices of tea bags and picked Earl Grey.

Hermione flicked her gaze up to him, hoping to convey stern disapproval. "Mary already hates me. You just made it ten times worse."

He glanced at her disbelievingly while tearing the paper wrapping off the tea bag.

"Someone hates Gryffindor's Princess? Whatever for?"

Malfoy dunked the teabag in the hot water, spooned sugar into the tea and stirred.

She lifted her mug to her lips and blew the steam away. "She's a pacifist. Doesn't agree with killing or torturing people under any circumstances."

He took a sip from his tea and eyed her over the mug. "I hate that in people," he deadpanned.

"Absolutely no fun at all," Hermione agreed, tapping her fingertips against the counter. "I suppose she expects us to wait for You-Know-Who to fall prey to an unfortunate accident."

"Why wait for karma? I could strategically place banana peels on the floor before our next group torture session."

Malfoy took a biscuit and popped it in his mouth.

"You're an excellent spy, Malfoy." She reached over to the plate of biscuits and took one for herself. "But death by banana peel seems rather… anticlimactic."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You were hoping for a climax? We can ask Mary about the recommendations for-"

She huffed in annoyance. "Can you get through one conversation without sexual innuendo? Just one."

"Hmm," he said, chewing on another biscuit thoughtfully while looking at her. "With you? Probably not."

"You're not like this with everyone?"

He shook his head and winked at her with a small smile. Her stomach flipped.

Why? Why did he have that effect on her?

"You're too much fun to tease."

"Lucky me," she said and took another biscuit. She eyed him as he sipped his tea. He only flirted with her? Would this be a problem, or something she could use to the Order's advantage? Maybe he wasn't being honest. She didn't know. "Any pain?"

"I'm good to go."

Hermione dumped the contents of her mug in the sink, washed it out and put it in the drying rack. Yawning, she leaned on the counter. "I'm knackered from babysitting you all night. I'm going to go see if I can catch a few hours' sleep before I'm needed."

Malfoy reached across the counter and lay his hand atop hers, squeezing lightly.

She glanced up, surprised, into his face. His expression was dead serious and his gaze locked on hers. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest with anticipation. Terror. Anticipation. Was he going to threaten to kiss her again?

"Thanks, Granger."

Oh.

No teasing. No threats. No cageyness. Just pure gratitude.

"Of course," she replied, blinking up at him.

Hermione looked down at his hand atop hers. He didn't remove it. Her skin tingled where his fingers and palm curved around her hand, and she enjoyed the strength and intimacy of his touch. Immediately, she felt guilty. About all of it.

Malfoy wasn't Ron.

His Dark Mark peeked out from underneath his arm. Despite what she convinced Mary to do for him, his body still didn't completely belong to him. She flicked her eyes to his and added, "If it were possible to remove your Dark Mark, I'd arrange that for you, too."

"I'm sure you would, Granger." Malfoy fixed his stare on her. His lips lifted slowly, warming her heart. "I'm sure you would."

Chapter end notes:

In the next chapter, play time is over.