Th Brutal Truth

What did he do? How could he be so damn stupid? That was the first thing Draco thought of before he drifted off into a fitful slumber, sweat pouring from his forehead due to the stifling humidity that entered his room from his garden. His mind wouldn't stop racing or thinking about the way Hermione's lips felt. She obviously didn't like it and probably wouldn't talk to him ever again after the way he manhandled her. He didn't even know what possessed him to do such a thing. One minute he wanted to strangle her, the next he was ready to have his way with her. He didn't even like Hermione in intimate way, so why would he kiss her? What in Merlin did he do? He couldn't like Hermione…his mind gagged at the thought.

His mind was in a huge jumble filled with tiny knots that would never be untangled, until he could get to the bottom of his own problems, and he could figure out what was happening to him. His good judgement was being flushed down the toilet in a matter weeks just because he was hanging around with a good for nothing mudblood. That's it…a mudblood. He didn't want her; his mind was playing tricks with him. It couldn't be that. He would let it be that; his mind couldn't comprehend any of emotions that he felt for a woman that he hardly trusted. She could hex him in the middle of his sleep for all he knew. This worried him a bit, keeping him on the verge of consciousness, allowing him a terrible night of sleep. Slowly his mind wandered off into a black void, giving him some semblance of peace, but he couldn't help but bring an image with him…Hermione's flushing face.

Draco had crossed over into unknown territory and there was no safe way of finding his way back in one piece. Hermione was a time bomb waiting to go off at any moment.

--

A loud, blaring sound, pierced through Hermione's sleeping ears, causing her to jump out of her bed unwarranted. She blindly searched for the button that would end the horrid sound, but failed miserably to find the contraption called an alarm clock. She threw her covers off onto the floor, muffling the insistent beep.

"Bloody box!" She kicked the covered alarm box, wincing as a sharp pain hit her toe. "Piss off!" she cursed to herself. Her body screamed when she took her first step towards the inviting bathroom. Every muscle in her body was sore beyond end. She could not think of anything, but the tearing sensation that filled her deltoids. What on bloody earth did Wood do to her? Just to think that she would have to endure another day with him and…Draco. Flashes of the previous night visited her cloudy mind, making her plop her butt down on the nearest sofa. She stared ahead at the floral-patterned wall, the light dim.

She didn't understand what had happened. What bewitched Draco to do such a thing? He was probably playing with her mind…he didn't like her. She hated him touching her like that. That's what her mind was saying, but a tugging sensation filled her stomach. There was something about his lips that her body enthralled. She couldn't shake the light feeling that overcame her when he touched her, but she couldn't fathom anything between him and her. This whole situation was becoming way too confusing and she didn't know if she would be able to handle it.

Tears of frustration started to form at the corner of her tired eyes, glistening in the dull glow, coming from her night-light. She wiped at them impatiently, scolding herself for being so damn stupid. She should have never gotten herself into this mess in the first place. She hated Draco and it should stay that way. What ever made her think that they could actually be friends? Everybody knew that it wasn't possible…why didn't she see it for herself? She was always missing the bigger picture in situations. Maybe, she could get out of it. Yes…Harry would help her get out of this. He had to. He would understand her situation above anything else. After all he shared the same feelings for Draco as herself…or maybe not.

With the brilliant plan of a coward in mind, Hermione stood up and quickly got ready. She wanted to get in touch with Harry before the day's events started. She glanced at her clock and found that it was a quarter after seven…Harry should just be getting in. With one last glance in the mirror, she tiptoed out of her new flat, and made her way up to the Auror Headquarters, trying to avoid Draco at all costs.

--

Hermione didn't realize that she was close to running as she left the flat. She was on edge, and her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, not to mention that she kept looking behind her shoulder, expecting Draco to jump out at her at any moment. How could she be so stupid? Why did she agree to this whole 'save the world' crap again? Sometimes she wished that she wasn't a Gryffindor…instead a Ravenclaw…yes, at least she wouldn't be in this mess with Draco of all people. She should have never let her guard down. He was dangerous, and she was too blind to see that, leading to last night, which she was trying to drain from her mind. She practically jumped up the stairs two at time, trying to reach the next level, so she could take the lift. The last thing she wanted was to bump into Draco.

Of course, the tight feeling in her muscles hindered her quite a bit, but the adrenaline that flowed through her body helped her to forget the soreness. Even a relieving charm didn't counteract the full effects of Wood's discriminating workout. She was hoping that Harry would relieve her of this mission. She prayed to Merlin that everything would work out in her favor. Harry had to understand. She didn't even realize how pathetic she sounded. She promised the Minister for Magic that she would complete this, and here she was running away like a common Peter, not taking into account the people that she would be letting down, because she couldn't face Draco after the previous night.

Hermione stopped in front of the lift and saw that it was five floors from reaching her. She rethought the night's events, cringing at the reality of them, then about her current motives. She was running away from something that she said she would do. What was wrong with her? The urge to run was just as strong as the urge to do the right thing, no matter what she sacrificed. Maybe, in reality she should have confronted Draco on this whole thing and told him off for what he did. He may not want to talk her after the slap she gave him, but could she run away this easily? Anybody who knew her would say different. If she turned her back on her duty now then it would bug her for her entire life, making her feel like a complete and utter failure, something she was too proud to allow. Would she let the detested ferret get in her way? She would be feeding right into his hands, if she stopped now, and she couldn't stand for that.

The faint ting of the lift eventually came, the door opening slowly. Hermione wasn't expecting anybody to come out of the lift because no one hardly came to the Department of Mysteries, especially this early in the morning.

The golden door magically floated open revealing a very disgruntled Malfoy, who was muttering to him and running his hand through his equally ruffled hair. Hermione froze in her place, not exactly sure where to go. She wanted to hide from him, but it would be to obvious if she started to run. She tried desperately to hide her dislike of the entire situation, and tried to calm herself down. She could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck, finding its way on her cheeks. The hair that she placed aimlessly on her head was finding its way, in little tendrils, in her face, annoying her further. She blew at them uneasily.

Draco's mind was occupied elsewhere so he didn't notice that someone was standing in front of him. He had woken up early that morning, his mind occupied by his horribly, big mistake. He shouldn't have touched Hermione, he shouldn't have argued with her. After all, she was really only trying to help him, but he couldn't take it back. That morning he wanted to clear his tormented soul, and stretch his unusually sore muscles, with a little stroll along the muggle streets of London. Of course, nobody was supposed to know he was still there, within the close proximity of the Ministry, due to the clandestine nature of the whole mission…that is where a beautiful concealment charm came in handy. The stale, smoky air did nothing to calm his nerves; if anything thing it augmented them. The crowded streets of muggles gave him ease, and made him feel safe from the world's wrath, especially the wizarding world. His muscles didn't protest as much now that they were properly warmed up, but the aching realization of what he did still nagged at the back of his mind. Nothing would ever be the same; he didn't even know the reason behind his initial compulsion to kissing her. It just happened, his own carnal instinct took over, and that made him sick to the stomach. There wasn't anything wrong with Hermione, and he didn't blame her, he just knew it was wrong. The real reason that they were doing this together was out of professional duty; there wasn't any personal motivation. Plus it was wrong for him to think of a mud blood in any intimate matter. Merlin forbid, his father found out that he traipsing around the Department of Mysteries with Harry Potter's ill-famed best friend. Well--ill famed in a strictly, jealous wizard's perspective. He smacked himself mentally for even thinking about his father. He was a grown man for Merlin sakes…he couldn't be scared of his father? There was still a part of him that was scared of his father's domineering disposition. He would never get over it, and his scarred childhood did nothing to render the effects that his father had on him. He wasn't even sure if he could stand up to him, like a man worth anything. In reality, he was nothing, but a big, lousy coward with great hair…even that was vain.

His mum was a whole different matter, and it pained him to think that she was once intelligent, but years of oppression left her subdued. She only knew how to dote on her son; always trying to mold him into his father's images, but part of him had always rebelled. He still does, but truthfully it scared him to even think that he could be like his father. It would be easy to take his place…he would have his share of followers, but to fully step into his father's shoes, attitude and everything…it wasn't likely. He would never be able to bring himself to do it…he couldn't. So what if his father found out about his new job…there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn't like he was going to marry the woman. It was strictly business…or at least that was what he kept telling himself.

Draco shook his head in confusion, trying to will his conflicting thoughts out of his head, and forcing him to think about today and what he was going to say to Hermione. He wasn't looking forward to that moment, it wasn't going to be pretty, and he didn't want to suffer another blow both physically and mentally. Who knows what body parts lie victim to Hermione's hot-blooded temper? The possibilities pained him, making him contort his face just thinking about it.

Hermione wished that she could dissolve into thin air, and float up to the low ceiling of the hall, and plaster herself there for all of eternity. The chances of that happening were unlikely. She wasn't sure if she was going to see Harry or not. She was tempted to run away, but she didn't want Draco to see how he unnerved her. Instead, she sauntered onto the lift, avoiding Draco. He noticed her at the last moment.

Draco lifted his head, and started to walk out of the lift, nearly running into Hermione, who happened to scare the bejesus out of him.

"Hermione?!" he half-screamed, startled from her sudden appearance, clearly not prepared to face her.

Hermione turned around, looking him up and down indifferently and nodded in confirmation. "Yes." What a bitch? She sounded calmer than she felt, but she didn't want to talk to him…she wasn't ready to discuss their little I mishap /I .

Draco didn't realize that he was gawking at her…she wasn't even acknowledging him. Awe shit, what did he do? Now, she royally hated his guts. He probably looked similar to a flying monkey…an idiot to be exact. "Ummm…nothing. Where are you going?" he said in a flash. What are you her mum now? Stupid…stupid.

"Why do you care?"

"I—do you want some company?" He stared at her closely, wondering what she was thinking, but seeing as he never mastered the skill of reading someone's mind…he was clueless. She wouldn't want his company, especially after he treated her.

Hermione was appalled that he would even talk to her, but she didn't want to show him how nervous she was or let him know that her palms were sweatier than they were on the night she went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. She gave his question quite some thought. She didn't know what to think of it, and he seemed ruffled in her presence, which gave her an unexpected satisfaction, making her smirk involuntarily. She was happy to know that she made Draco Malfoy flustered, but she wouldn't allow him the liberty of going with her.

"No—if I did I would've asked," she replied apathetically; he didn't need to know that she was ready to say 'yes'…she wanted to stay away from him for as long as possible.

Draco wondered where the sudden coldness came from and knew the answer. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, but even he wouldn't stoop that low, and it wasn't in a Malfoy's nature to forgive or to even care for that matter. He shrugged off her answer, and straightened his disheveled appearance, feeling self-conscious for the first time in his life.

"Well, I'll see you in a little a while," he smiled weakly, and turned to leave, but found himself planted in that spot.

The lift door alarm sounded, meaning it was shutting, and Hermione didn't make an attempt to keep it open. She found Draco's oddly warm gray gaze and returned it with an icy glare, obviously still angry.

"Like I have a choice," Draco barely heard her mutter. He kept staring at the closed door in bewilderment. What on earth was that about? Hermione was going out of her way to ignore him. He knew it had something to with the night before, but he had some false hope that she would have forgotten about the whole thing. Oi, who was he kidding? He knew that she would hold it against him for the rest of his life. He had messed with the wrong woman and was bound to pay for…he knew Hermione to be a bossy and most likely begrudging person. There was still an immense amount things that he did not understand about her or women in general, but he knew that he had pushed the wrong button.

Draco sighed in frustration, looked around the deserted, dark level, and made his way to his flat. His leather shoes hit the floor in a rushed rhythm, echoing off the marble floors, making him feel lonelier than he ever felt in his life. A chance of making any type of friend with Hermione was a far one to come. Their relationship was fragile to begin with and he had sent the start of it to the dregs of hell. This job was going just great and his life was filled with sunshine and rainbows. He grumbled deep in his throat and entered the chilly flat with dread filling every morsel of his being.

--

Hermione wanted to collapse right there, her knees felt wobbly. She didn't think that Draco would have such an impact on her. Ginny could've performed the Jelly-Leg jinx and she wouldn't have known the difference. Her heart was pounding, her ears were ringing, and she felt like sitting, but she didn't. She stared at the lift buttons, contemplating on whether or not she should see Harry. Eventually, she pushed the 9th Level button. She thought she would get an early start at the Archives. Maybe, she could work of her stress on some books or see if she could find any books that were remotely similar to the 'Locked Room'.

She tapped her foot impatiently as the door tottered open, allowing a small man to walk in, who looked up at her and winked. She returned his courtesy with a cautious smile. He reached her mid-thigh and had on a dark blue suede suit that seemed to be two sizes too big. She walked out swiftly not giving the man a second look. She couldn't help, but feel a little relieved to be two muggle stories below Draco.

The day was still early, and remnants of early starters filled the halls, but the Archives weren't occupied with any people she needed to avoid. She didn't really have to worry about anybody noticing her that could draw suspicion to her early comeback as some would say. She pulled open the heavy oak doors and stepped into the dim-lighted Archives. She had a half-hour before she had to meet Harry on her next assignment. She scanned for her brain for any starting ideas. She could always look at books that stressed mainly on the Department of Mysteries, but what good would that do? She could look for countering spells on…emotions. She's never heard of anything about spells that counteracted feelings, such as love, hate, or jealousy; a potion was common in that field, but not spells. This could be the key to helping her get through the locked room alive. If rumors were true…she didn't want to be asphyxiated by an onslaught of unbearable emotion.

First, she needed help on locating books on anything close to what she had in mind.

"Do you need help?"

Hermione turned towards the desk and found the same horrid woman that she encountered the other day. The woman had on an atrocious yellow tweed suit with red pumps, the same bright lipstick with more on her teeth than lips, and a bored look. The clerk's eyebrows raised in recognition of Hermione, making her smirk.

Hermione grumbled in her throat, not wanting to talk to the dimwit again. She would rather tell her off, or curse her out, but she had to respect her situation and not do anything to jeopardize the fragile position she was in.

Hermione tried to plaster the phoniest smile she could muster onto her unwilling face; it looked more like a grimace than anything, but the clerk seemed to believe it.

"Hi--yes, can you please tell me if there are any books on counter-acting extreme emotions, like jealousy," she explained, her mouth hurting.

The clerk grinned, a yellow, lipstick-stained, toothy one in that. This made Hermione gag, but she tried desperately to conceal her disgust. She wanted to be on good terms for the next few minutes, so she could get the information she needed.

"Feeling a little jealous of the blond one?" she rudely asked.

Hermione gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"You know the gorgeous man you were with the other day. Your boyfriend?" she said picking her teeth with her abnormally large acrylic nails.

Moments passed, before Hermione realized, whom she was talking about. "Draco?" she uttered.

"Sure. So has he been rolling in the hay with someone else?" she smirked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know--has he been sleeping around—is that why you want a spell to get rid of his lust for other women or should we say…your I jealously /I ," she was close to laughing. She licked her lips, making Hermione cringe.

"I can do that? Isn't that going against someone's free will?"

"Well yeah, but it is only temporarily. Even if you get Draco—that's his name—to stop swooning after other women…it will go away and he'll do it all over again. People only do it to avoid fights or awkward situations. There's never been a permanent block on emotion…it's illegal. That's why love potions were banned…to keep people from manipulating people. Same goes here. So if you are through with him…do think maybe I can…well you know?" A seductive smile found its way on her crude lips.

Hermione absorbed everything the disturbed woman was telling her. "He wasn't mine to begin with, so he's all yours. Where are those books?" she hastily replied, trying to get the woman to stop her false accusations.

"Ah. Jealousy is one thing, but denial is a shame."

"He's not my boyfriend and I have absolutely no emotional connection to him whatsoever."

"That's what you think," the woman whispered under her breath, loud enough for Hermione hear, but low enough for Hermione to question it.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. The book on 'Emotional Detachment' is located in Row H, Number 387."

"Thanks."

The clerk watched Hermione leave and chuckled at her blindness. She had noticed the way the man looked at Hermione the other day. Even though she wished she could have him, but it would be a dead end pursuit, so why bother? Then again, maybe the man didn't like Hermione after all, so this could be an opportune moment to hawk in and scoop him up. The clerk wondered why the woman wanted a book on Emotional Detachment spells. If it wasn't to thwart that blond-head, then what was it about? Maybe, she would give it go. She had seen the blond-head that morning, but didn't make an attempt to approach him. The next time she would and not let her opportunity, of having a piece of him, go.

--

By the time Hermione retrieved the book from the dusty stacks, it was time to leave. She needed to meet Harry and Draco for the next task. She had checked the book out to read later, leaving the clerk behind, who seemed to stare her down as if she was accessing something. This made Hermione very uncomfortable, making her rush out of the Archives and back up to the Department of Mysteries, where another day of hell would most likely take place.

Hermione didn't see Draco back at the flat, meaning that he was already at the training site. He probably didn't want to go through the same awkward silence that he did that morning. If he knew what was good for him, he would stay away from Hermione because she wasn't in the best of moods, especially after seeing that detestable clerk, who was trying to get her hands on Draco. Hermione didn't like to admit it, but that bothered her quite a bit. She couldn't explain the feeling that she got; it was a nagging pull at her stomach…almost like envy, but that was absurd.

She was supposed to be in the Training room at eight and it was ten to. She walked down the drafty corridor that lead to the training room, blazing torches aligned on the wall, staring at her in resentment. She swallowed, trying desperately to coat the back of her throat. She was getting paranoid; torches didn't judge people, they're inanimate. Well, so was Frankenstein's monster, before that fateful night with lightening, and see what he reduced his master to.

She pushed the door open and slipped in between the crack. Instead, of a gigantic stadium, she found a dimly lit room, that was half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. There was a high-domed ceiling, with creepy gargoyles perched in the corners that seemed to follow her every move. The walls were made of slick stones…probably marble, and torches lined the wall, giving a sinister feel to the entire room. On the far end was a large iron door that was bolted shut.

"Hermione, over here." Harry was waving her over to the opposite side, where there were chairs for them to sit in. The chairs were placed in front of raging fire that made the room even scarier. The fire made the stones glitter, like blood was flowing from them. Hermione swallowed in her throat, not liking any of this.

She saw Draco turn his head, giving her a nod. She returned it with a wan smile and sat down next to him.

She noticed that Wood wasn't there, sighing in relief. Instead, the little man that she saw that morning was there. He was sitting in the opposite chair from both her and Draco with his legs crossed, and his chin resting on his fist. She gave him an inquisitive glance, which he winked at.

"I would like you to meet Mr. Lithgow. He is in charge of the Unspeakable training here at the Ministry. Today, he has created multiple tasks that will test your intelligence as well as teamwork. I hope you came prepared because today is going to be harder than yesterday. How are you feeling?" His question was pointed to both of them, but mainly directed towards Hermione.

Harry noticed the tension between Hermione and Draco, and wondered what the cause of it was. Did they get into a disagreement? They were fine with each other yesterday. What could've happened that made Hermione so indifferent towards Malfoy? All of these thoughts went through his mind faster than he could grasp. Hermione was his best friend and it was only natural for him to feel protective over her, especially with Malfoy…right? Harry flashed Hermione a curious glance…something was up and he wanted to know what? It was eating at him and he wanted the ache to stop. He hated this whole situation, but in his oath as an Auror he vowed to obey any duty that he was given and follow it through, even if it involved his best friend who cared deeply for. If Malfoy did anything to her, he would be willing to break that oath and do something he'd probably regret.

"Fine," she mumbled, trying to hide her annoyance.

"Dandy," Draco glared at Hermione, giving her the same reaction she gave him.

"Are you sure, because you both don't seem to be very…responsive?" Harry asked curiously.

"Harry—as you can see we are here in one piece. Can we please get the show on the road?" Hermione snapped, no longer able to keep her temper down.

Draco glanced at Harry and nodded in encouragement. Harry didn't need to be told twice, and Hermione wasn't a person to get cross with, particularly if the right mood hit her.

"Fine. Mr. Lithgow will further explain today's lesson." Harry waved the dwarf-like man over, and stepped into the background, so he could watch over the whole operation as he was supposed to. He kept a notably close eye on Draco, making sure that he didn't step out of line.

The small man jumped from his seat and landed perfectly with a slight thump on the stone floor that surprisingly didn't echo. This man had the power of stealth.

He looked at Hermione and Draco warily, but didn't bother to wait for their permission to begin. He was the boss after all.

"Today, we have a special task designed to help you with the I possible /I obstacles in the 'Locked Room'. Seeing as I don't know the make-up of the room, I am going to try to the best of my ability to simulate what it will feel like to be inside. This task can not be done alone, so you'll have to work as a team and listen to each other's advice. Do you understand?"

Draco and Hermione glared at each other.

"Whatever," they both mumbled.

"I'm serious. This isn't something to be taken lightly. Do you understand the risk involved? I need you two to trust each other. You can't act like children," he declared, a little frustrated by Hermione and Draco's demeanor towards each other. It was true…they were being immature for no reason. "You have to get over each other differences. You are not in Hogwarts anymore—you're adults."

"We understand," Draco answered for the both of them, trying to show sincerity, but Hermione knew that the man saw right through it. The man waved it off and started to explain the task. Hermione sunk low in her seat and tried to listen as intently as possible, but her senses were focused on Draco. She noticed his presence a great deal more than she did before. She probably wanted to make sure that he never came near her again.

"Can you first tell me what the 'Locked Room' is?"

"A giant ball of emotion," Hermione summed up.

"You might be right Ms. Granger, but the truth is unknown. Sources say that the room is made up of human emotion. If humans and wizards were to die, the room would disintegrate. Some say that it feeds on calamities such as war or genocides. The past war on evil has given the room unsurpassable power that could destroy the entire world if unleashed. The room has almost reached its maximum capacity, where it will know longer be able to contain the substance that occupies it. We only know this due to the pulses that are radiating off of it. The energy has been far too strong for any sole Unspeakable to control. That is why we are trying two people this time around."

"Why not two Unspeakable's? I don't understand why it has to be us?" Hermione was trying to find an honorable way out of this mess.

"Ms. Granger, the prophecy says that two people in--"

"Corin, I'm afraid they aren't supposed to know--"

"Supposed to know what? Harry, what aren't we supposed to know?" Hermione demanded, her cheeks a bright red, matching the fire that was dancing on the gloomy walls.

Harry looked at Hermione sympathetically. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get out of this. He knew of a prophecy, but not what the prophecy said. The Minster and Dumbledore didn't want Hermione or Draco to know about it, afraid that it would distract them in the long run. Not telling them in the first place was the wrong thing to do.

"I don't know much Hermione, but you and Draco were assigned this job because of a prophecy."

"What kind of prophecy?" Draco finally made himself noticed.

Harry looked at Draco in annoyance. "I told I don't know what the prophecy is, only of it."

"Mr. Lithgow, what does this prophecy say?" Hermione turned towards the tiny man, who was calculating the right time to enter the conversation. He was awarded the opportunity with Hermione's question.

Mr. Lithgow hesitated for a moment, but proceeded. "According to the Minister, the love of two enemies—that would be you two—will help uncover the secrets of the 'Locked Room'."

"Love?" Hermione screeched in outrage, her eyes ready to pop out of her head. "That's too vague. How can it be us?" Hermione looked at Draco in disgust. There was no way in the seven hells that she could ever love someone…like…like…him. Her chest was heaving, her lungs deprived of oxygen; slowly she was starting to hyperventilate.

"Calm down Hermione," Harry tried to soothe her; he was rubbing her back, trying to will her to breathe properly. He didn't know the prophecy involved them falling in love. Jealousy flowed through his body at the thought. Hermione would never agree to such an erroneous plan. She loathed Draco with all of her heart, and there was no way that she could love him…intimately…sexually.

"She's right Mr. Lithgow. There are a lot of enemies in the world. Why does it have to be us?" Draco mentioned, not liking the whole idea either. Although…he couldn't stop a little part of his soul from rejoicing and it was there unintentionally and he couldn't stop it.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore and the Minister for Magic have every reason to believe so," Mr. Lithgow stated matter-of-factly. He was very calm, but his voice betrayed traces of worry. He shouldn't have let the prophecy slip; and Hermione wouldn't let the situation go on without a fight and very good one at that.

"We'll see about that," an enraged Hermione declared. She stomped out of the magical room and traveled to the first level, where she would face the planner of this preposterous mission.