A/N: I just started reading this story called "Malfoy Has Returned" by purplejuniormints. It's an interesting take so I definitely suggest a read!
Alright, so as always, Happy reading!
Kindle Me - Chapter 4
The first morning of classes arrived. For Hermione, it would be her first time in class for over a year. Dumbledore, though completely berated by most of the Ministry for allowing such a thing, approved Hermione to begin her term with the other seventh years the girl grew up with. The Headmaster argued Hermione's abilities and intelligence mirrored someone far beyond a seventh year at Hogwarts and she suitably belonged there without the latter half of her sixth as well as the first half of her seventh.
Hermione, who had the fleeting suspicion Dumbledore would do such a thing, found herself pleased to be starting in the year. Aside from how much power she would have as a seventh year, Draco would be in a few of her classes (Charms and Arithmancy). Seeing him always managed to melt her heart.
The light illuminating Professor McGonagall's class was intense and welcomed by the early rising Hermione. Like Draco, she was very much a morning person, keen on starting the day right. In her eyes, nights were for sleeping while the day was for action.
"Good morning Miss Granger," said the transfiguration teacher with a kind smile.
Hermione smiled, uttering, "It is, isn't it? Every morning so far has been wonderful."
All outward appearances, she was still Hermione Granger—vivacious, independent Hermione Granger. If only they knew, she thought vehemently, Oh, if only the idiots knew.
"Has Professor Dumbledore told you on how you're to address the class?" asked the teacher with a parent-like concern. Hermione had no doubt she felt like a parent to the girl—She had been her favorite student for the past seven years, if not for her entire career of teaching.
"Yes," replied Hermione, a thoughtful tone in her voice, "and I understand how everything will pan out. Only, well, he said I would need a partner to help me get use to coming back. He never specified who it would be."
The normally stern woman, whose face usually held up a look of strong authority, softened and looked pensive.
"I think it might be best for you to partner up with the Head Boy."
"Blaise Zabini?" she asked, hoping to Merlin she had heard correctly.
The professor nodded, confirming what she thought she heard; "I think it would be very wise to partner you two up. Um...I think it's safe to say you would have been Head Girl yourself had last year...not—it doesn't matter. Anyways, the boy is constantly up at late hours anyway, patrolling the halls he claims—" though Hermione smirked inwardly at the woman's complete lack of understanding her students at all; Blaise was no more patrolling the halls than a broom was. He was, nearly every night, portkeying to the Dark Lord's manor. She had seen him on several occasions—"so I think it'll work out just fine."
"Um...I think it would be alright," replied Hermione, having the grace to sound aloof and unsure. Professor McGonagall's expectations were met.
The entire situation couldn't be more perfect even if she wanted it to be. Blaise Zabini, a guy on her side—the right side, was to 'tutor' her. Talk about an easy way of getting out of Hogwarts unnoticed.
Hermione did not drop her smile until she took in Harry's face which was contorted with a look of rage. Immediately she worked her best friend charm to ask, "what's wrong?"
"Zabini? Why would she pair you up with him instead of me?" Harry's eyes were cast downward as he spoke in a low drawl.
"He is the Head Boy. I can't even think of a more perfect person really," she muttered plainly. Harry's green eyes bore into the side of her face, sending chills up and down her spine. Hermione always hated feeling as though she was on a display pedestal and with Harry's gaze on her, she felt just that.
"Please stop looking at me like that, Harry."
"Hermione...I just don't want Zabini around you. He's just like bloody Malfoy—I know he's a death eater. You should not be around that, especially if you are alone."
The raven-haired girl sighed deeply. Something about Harry's tone put off Hermione.
"I don't want to...No—I can't lose you again, Hermione. It will kill me. You need to understand just how serious your survival is to me. If Zabini or fucking Malfoy—"
"They're not going to do anything," she interjected sharply.
"You can't know that!" he bellowed.
"Mr. Potter!"
Hermione felt the flustered boy shaking next to her when McGonagall yelled out his name. Whether it was from anger or fear, she did not know. All she did know was how angry and scared he looked in the moment. It was so malice, so frightened, so malicious, so...not like Harry. She may not be his best friend anymore, but she still knew him to a degree. The look on his face was one she had never seen before. Ever.
She did not like it.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, is there is a problem?" asked the frazzled professor.
There was a long silence. Then—"We're fine. I apologize for the disruption."
It had been Hermione who spoke for Harry was still shaking next to her, creeping her out to a new degree she did not quite understand.
After getting back to work and feeling the tremors wracking Harry's worried body subside, Colin Creevy waltzed into the room to remind Hermione about her meeting after class with Dumbledore. With her morning of unfriendly bantering with Harry, she had forgotten all about it. Again, the timing was on her side seeing as she wanted so much to get away from the Golden Boy, even if it meant she had to spend her time with the fool of a headmaster.
Upon entering his office, her skin chilled. The girl was suddenly scared to be in the office of the one wizard she felt knew something was amiss. Her master did not doubt Dumbledore like she assumed he did—for all those years, back when she was fighting for the wrong side. She did not doubt him either.
"Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore cheerily, making Hermione jerk from his abrupt entrance. The tall wizard had come up from behind her and startled her senseless. As her heart began to pace down and her breathing slowed, she took a seat in the large, fluffy chair in front of his organized desk. To her right she could see Fawkes, his red and gold wings spanning far and wide. The phoenix gave her a hasty, almost sneering look before he turned and left the room, flying out the window into the brisk cold air. Dumbledore paused, seeming to reflect on the bird's departure. Once he seemed to be appeased, the headmaster faced the young girl, peering at her through his half-moon spectacles.
"Well, Miss Granger, how was your morning?" he asked brightly.
"I'm not quite sure. I didn't really have the opportunity to make it through my first class without Harry entering his overprotective mode, but aside from that—it was rather lovely. I'm glad to be back," she replied with a smile.
The man seemed to nod thoughtfully; "Yes, I can only imagine how difficult this is for Harry. He was not really the same without his best friend."
"Well, it wasn't as though I was the best friend he wanted back, right?"
DAMN IT! MISTAKE...MISTAKE...MISTAKE...MISTAKE...MISTAKE—Okay, don't panic. Perhaps he didn't catch it.
"Pardon?" inquired Dumbledore, his grin fading into a leery smile. Hermione knew Dumbledore was much too smart to miss that.
"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just...a little off and I guess, well, kind of paranoid," she babbled in hopes of getting him to change the subject.
"You don't think Harry values your friendship?"
"Oh Merlin no! I just...you know—" she gulped and tried again—"boys tend to want other boys to confide in. Harry never really had the most intimate of relationships with me. It was more of a friendly thing and, uh, I just figure he would probably rather have that boy friendship back over his one with me, the kind where he can joke and whatnot. I'm being silly, of course," she laughed, again trying to get the subject changed.
Hermione met his piercing eyes and the first feeling of distrust flashed over his face, she had witnessed at least. Most people would not have caught it, but Hermione was desperately searching for it. She tightened up her composure and smiled the same innocent grin she'd flashed before. Hermione was unaware, but the man was expecting just that smile from her.
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"Mind if I have a word?" asked Draco.
Hermione was awestruck. Unlike other times, when they were in the comforts of duo privacy, Hermione was very clearly seated in the Great Hall next to her many Gryffindor friends.
"Malfoy? What the hell do you want?" asked Hermione, her wide eyes questioning his silver ones.
"Prat, shove off!" barked Harry.
Draco smirked as he drawled a low voice, "I'd love to, but unfortunately for me...I actually have been asked by McGonagall to escort the mudblood."
Madness erupted—
"You arrogant prat!"
"How dare you!"
"Hermione doesn't need this!"
"Take it back—"
"What does she want to see me for?" asked Hermione. All the loud jeering ceased at the sound of her voice, exactly what Draco hoped for.
He flashed his trademark sneer before muttering, "While I'm privy to the information, the rest of the nosy Gryffindors are not. I suggest you ask the question again once we're outside."
Without anymore questions, Hermione stood up to leave the room with the Slytherin Harry hated most. Most of her friends were shocked though none of them pressed the issue with the girl. All of them felt she had been through enough and questioning was the last thing she needed.
Once Hermione and Draco were outside of the Great Hall and noted the coast was clear, he grabbed her small hand. Together, they raced through the empty hallway as fast as their legs would carry them until they finally reached the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, an unfamiliar territory to her. Draco crashed his lips onto hers as he pressed her against the wall, sliding his hands down her lean arms to plant themselves on her waist.
After a few minutes of frantic kisses, Draco pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose gently.
"I never get tired of that," he panted.
Hermione smiled before she asked, "What did you really call me out for? I highly doubt you would have risked coming to my table just to snog me, right?"
"Too smart for your own good," he smirked. Her pearly white grin flashed before he continued, "No, you're suppose to go have your tutoring session with Blaise. I'm here to help you portkey to the manor."
"But Draco...why lie about McGonagall? What if she finds out?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"I didn't lie. McGonagall passed me in the hall a few minutes ago and asked me if I had seen you. I let her know I'd take you to see Zabini if and when I found you. No worries, love," he replied, taking the opportunity to reciprocate the intimate kiss upon her nose.
"Um...alright," she sighed, letting her head fall onto his shoulder.
"What's wrong, love?" Draco asked with a worrisome tone.
"Nothing. I'm just...I've got some things on my mind and I'm...uh—kind of um...Bullocks, I sound ridiculous," she finished with a forced laugh.
"What's wrong?" he repeated, running his hand through her thick curls. He did not like the way her flushed face kept her gaze down. It was unlike her to look away from him.
"Why don't we just go? I'm sounding silly right now and...I just want to get out of here."
Her voice was pleading, begging almost, for him to just listen to her, something which bothered him immensely. This was the first time she had avoided answering a question of his and he didn't like it, not at all.
"Alright," he complied, not wanting to argue you the issue with her. He would coax it out of her later, but if he continued she was bound to shut him out entirely. The conversation was not dead, but halted.
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Hermione sat in the middle of the room, her eyes focused on Draco's hand clutching her knee gently, a gesture suggesting he was holding her in place and nothing more. Many gazes were on her, but despite this, she did not look up. Normally she met their stares coldly, she had ever since her feelings about the side had changed, but tonight was different. Tonight she felt weak, too weak to handle Dumbledore's interrogation which meant without a doubt she'd be far too weak to handle any of the Death Eater's inquiries. Unlike Draco who stopped his questioning once she asked him to, they would not until they got the information they wanted. She just wanted to speak with her master and then leave to go back to Hogwarts.
Draco's hand squeezed her thigh gently when the Dark Lord came in.
"Did you find it?" he asked snappishly.
"Um, I was in the room, but I didn't see it. I suppose it's hidden."
The man's face contorted with annoyance and fury upon her finishing words. Then—"You suppose it's hidden? For someone who is suppose to be intelligent you really do lack common sense, you ruddy girl. Find it and find it soon!"
Hermione jerked into Draco, but he could not comfort her. He had to let her face this alone, even though he had no clue as to what they were referring to. So she has to find something, he thought distractedly, then maybe I can help her. All she has to do is let me in and I can help her with this. Nothing more will have to follow if she just lets me help her.
"Yes Master. I will find it. It is only a matter of time before I find it." Her voice was timid, irresolute, and in the eyes of most of the people in the room—cowed.
The man with skin paler than Draco's and long bony limbs hanging off of him vanished into the darkness of the side hall, leaving everyone in the room to their own devices. Draco shot up from his spot on instinct and grabbed her hand, yanking her out of the room and into the one they'd shared for a year.
"What was that?" he asked once the door was shut.
"I don't know," she stated honestly as she walked to the bed. Flinging herself onto it, she crawled back to lay on the pillows, turning her body in the opposite direction of his. Draco sighed, running his hand through his baby-fine tresses, before he moved to the bed. Slowly, as not to startle her, he got on the duvet himself and slid his body around hers, spooning her.
"Hermione what's going on?"
No response.
"You have to tell me what's going on, love."
Again, no response.
Sighing again, he moved his lips to her neck—her weak spot—and marked a trail of kisses all the way around, smiling to himself when she began to writhe against him, tortured by his touch.
"Draco...stop," she pleaded, her voice sounding more like a moan in spite of herself.
"Love, just talk to me," he said again, still kissing the delicate skin of her neck. She was still struggling in an attempt to resist his touch, but he could tell the fight was leaving her body, giving into him.
"You're not being fair to me," she whispered, stifling a moan as his left hand made contact with the exposed skin of her abdomen. Rubbing light circles around her belly button, she twisted against him almost painfully. He was most definitely getting to her.
"I just want you to talk to me," the silver-haired boy said honestly.
Hermione exhaled a fresh breath of air before succumbing to his caresses, leaning back onto his shoulder, allowing him to breath hot air down her neck.
"Um...I'm scared." Draco had to strain to hear it, but as inaudible as the words were, he caught them.
"Of what, love? You know I won't let anything...happen to you." He realized much to late what he had said, something so incredibly endearing he had knocked himself for six. He did feel something for Hermione so profound it was staggering, but that did not mean he said it aloud often. Draco had never been the emotional type of guy to pour out his feelings, even if he meant them.
"No...um—damn it, why is this so hard to say?" she asked rhetorically. She got an answer nonetheless—
"Just say it," muttered Draco into the flesh of her shoulder, nipping at the freckled, exposed skin. His left hand was inching up her shirt, eliciting moans from Hermione.
"Draco, you're making me want to forget all about it..." she half-whined, obviously finding the idea of ignoring the problem much better than admitting to it. Draco moved his hand away, scowling himself mentally for doing such a thing when his hand had been so close to her—
"I'm sorry, love. Now tell me what's going on."
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
"I'm scared of both sides," she muttered finally.
Draco could feel her body stiffen against him, alerting him just how much she meant what she had said. It struck him as odd. Why would she be scared? This doesn't make sense.
As if she could read his mind, she said ruefully, "I am scared because unlike you and unlike Harry, not a single side trusts me."
"Of course we trust you! How could you think that?"
"It's the truth Draco! You may trust me, but you and I both know nobody else in our circle does. Blaise sure as hell does not trust me, I've gathered that much, and can you honestly say your parents trust me? Fuck, Draco you can't even tell them about our relationship. I highly doubt your father would be pleased to know your off shagging a mudblood when—"
"Don't act as though that is all I use you for! Damn it Hermione, you of all people know better than that," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"Fine," she said in a narked voice, "I'll give you that, but still, you have yet to admit our relationship to your parents and they no more trust me than they trust the Ministry. On top of them, there are about two dozen other death eaters ready to pounce on me if I make the slightest mistake. Nobody trusts me Draco. Plus, I've got Dumbledore on my ass as well as various Order members and I cannot find a safe haven in either side. I'M SCARED DRACO!"
Draco could not recall when she started to tremble in his arms, but she was shaking madder than someone dying of hypothermia. Near-palpable waves of fear were radiating off her beautiful body, vexing him inside to know she was so afraid.
He pulled her around, forcing her to face him. With a tenderness she was unaware he had, even startling him at how gentle he could be with her, he cupped her face and kissed her forehead. He moved his lips down to her lips, leaving them a fraction apart so when he spoke, his lips brushed hers.
"You listen to me. When it comes down to it, we know where your loyalties lie. Blaise has many things on his mind lately so ignore him. My parents...worry about them later. You are absolutely perfect and if all else fails, remember how much I trust you. This should mean more to you than anything else considering I don't trust fucking anyone yet I do trust you!"
Hermione had to admit he was right. By and large, Draco was a man who did not trust easily and when his trust was lost, it could never be regained. Albeit it had taken her a year to earn his trust, she had gotten it. That had to stand for something, right?
"Well...what about Harry? And Dumbledore? I have the nagging suspicion he is on to me. I accidently said something stupid and he caught on," she told him.
"What did you say?" he probed.
"I kind of sounded bitter when I told him how I was probably not the best friend he wanted to see come back alive. I didn't mean to let it spill out, but it just did. I regretted it immediately and I covered myself pretty well, but you know Dumbledore...I'm pretty sure he caught on."
Draco sighed. "How much can the old fool know, right? All he has right now is suspicions which means he'll keep an eye on you. He was going to do that anyways so it's no big deal. Don't worry yourself over it so much, Hermione."
With his arms wrapped around her tightly from behind, he could feel her body relax against his. He was starting to get through to her.
"Are you alright?" he asked as he casually ran his fingers through her coiled locks.
"I guess. I'm still nervous about going back and facing everyone. I just know I'll feel everyone's eyes burning me the moment I step foot back in the Great Hall or anywhere for that matter. I'm so sick of everyone!" she cried with fury. Draco tightened his grip on her more.
"Look...just get through this task of yours and then we can leave. It'll be over for all of us, alright?"
She nodded against him, snuggling into his embrace. He placed another sensual kiss against her neck, breathing in her scent of honey.
"Why don't you tell me what the task is? Then I can help you," he suggested.
"You know I can't," she whispered, "I'd love to, but can't. I want to earn everyone's trust and if I tell you...I just can't. I'm sorry."
He could not deny it bothered him to still be in the dark, but he made no effort to push the topic further. His girl had a point, one he agreed with. Bugger me...
"S'alright, love."
"Besides, this task was designed for me. With you being you...there is just no way you could do it. While they are suspicious of me, at least some, it'll be easier for me to do it than you."
Tracing a hand over the curves of her hip, he leaned into her more. She understood it was his way of silencing her, that he no longer wanted to speak—he just wanted to feel. Granting him what he wanted, she took his hand and led it toward the final destination. She gasped at the feel of his hand as he smirked into her, loving how he could touch her and get such a delicious response.
"Scream my name," he panted against her throat, kissing her in every available spot.
She smiled, whispering, "I always do."
A/N: So what did you guys think? You all know how much I love hearing from you guys.
I'm sorry it took so long for the update, but my midterms are finally done! Yay me! Lol, finals are now approaching, but I'm good for about three weeks. Blast the quarter system!!
Oh and I'm sorry about my lack of responding to your lovely reviews, readily if at all. I've never had such a response as I am with this story so it's making it difficult for me to respond to each individual. Don't worry - I still will. It's just a matter of how long it will take me to finally get something out. :)
READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it.
Evil's Mistress is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.