Playfully tugging at her coat, an impatient, child-like nuisance, the wind swirled around her waist, begging for a retort. Go on, answer Draco. Tell the truth, you miserable fraud. Not so witty now, eh?
The hushed taunts from her inanimate enemy betrayed her. The whispers of the wind were correct. There would be no more concealing now that Draco was able to run wickedly with her spotaneously-combustible secret. It was only right that she admit to the crimes, rather than supply the opposing esteemed attorney with another motive to search for more guilty clues. Evidentiary support didn't often lie.
"Don't think you can stand there and think of excuses. I've got substantial common sense, despite what you seem to think."
Hermione hadn't the slightest notion of what verbal retaliation would slip from her lips. Simply put, she mumbled a response, defeated without a battle. "How did you come about this, Draco?"
He reveled in the immediate glory of seeing Hermione Granger crack like a hardboiled egg. For the first time in ages, she fell from the weight of weakness. It was a pleasant sight, yet bittersweet as well. Her castle was crumbling, yet he randomly obtained the strongest of urges to begin rebuilding the faltering structure.
"Oh, but didn't you see the note from the Minister himself attached to your new file documents? He obviously wanted to re-establish some ground rules. The bloke failed to realize that, if dropped into the wrong hands, it would blow your reputation right out from under you."
Composure and pity. The two things she desired at that exact moment. An ounce of either would've sufficed.
"I was offered a private job by the Minister, a permanent career. Putting away the remaining loyals of Voldemort was a job needed to be done. Can't you understand?"
"Without a shadow of a doubt, Granger. You forget so easily that my father was one of the most feared, next to Voldemort himself. Yet the privacy and anonymity of your little deal suggests that something was kept under wraps other than your identity."
Her words halted. The string of potential insults and explanations had frayed, slowly unravelling. Crashing, disorienting waves of guilt mingled with dizziness flooded her safe-haven. Hermione took refuge on a bench, chasing after her dispersed thoughts. Draco accompanied her, only out of curiousity.
"He wanted to reconstruct some familiarity for everyone. Their lives had been torn apart. A door was still left open when the surviving Death Eaters realized that the stability hadn't changed. It was still weak beyond control. The Minister thought that if something were to hit the remaining ones hard enough, especially with a force that seemed to condense from thin air, they'd die out. So far, the plan has worked. The secrecy was more for my benefit; having no danger or trouble lurking for me has made it exceptionally easy to do my job. If my name hadn't been withheld, they'd pin-point the source of their downfall. They'd have killed me without a moment's thought. Then, inevitably, a chaotic recession back to the darkest days of the Wizarding World." Hermione stared blankly at her shoes. The admittance had seemed rehearsed yet she'd never uttered a word of this to any soul. The last addition was a whisper, almost carried off and kidnapped by the restless wind. "I was offered a job, one that was long overdue. I couldn't let the world suffer. You have to understand at least that much."
Lost in the deepest cave of thought, Draco nearly felt a pang of shame. She had done it for the good of the wizards and witches whose lives were ripped and slaughtered by the clever evil that had once dominated. All along, he'd thought it was plainly because she was a coward, a purely selfish vial of venom that merely wanted the satisfaction of being the futuristic Golden Trio hero of all time. A press junkie that would reveal her secret years later after securing a mind-blowing number of cases and wins against the creeping malevolence. He knew from her fatigued reasoning and deliverance that it was the sheer truth. No longer would he question that.
"I...I hadn't a clue, Granger. I realize the timing of this response is maddeningly inappropriate, yet I'd rather it not remain unsaid. I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I won't speak of this."
His words shocked her, though it was a dull sensation compared to the blow that Draco struck her with upon their meeting tonight. Nonetheless, appreciation and relief reeled in the frenzy of a storm that her mind had conjured. Still, Hermione couldn't see a rhyme or reason as to why he reacted so completely out of his nature.
"Not that I don't believe you, but may I ask why you've so easily accepted my explanation? I just...I dunno. It's very unlike you." Her questioning tone finished lamely. Her questioning look, however, remained stable. Another surprise followed his strange acceptance. Thin pieces of his platinum locks brushed Draco's forehead, his grey eyes gazing down toward Hermione's hands rested in her lap.
"When I realized that my father was a pure embodiment of everything I no longer wanted to be, I knew what I finally had the desire to do. I wanted - no, needed - to use what I learned all those years against my father and Voldemort. I needed to have it all gone. So I became an attorney, a complete opposite of my father. When I finally decided that I'd remove the title of 'Pureblood' from my vocabulary, people were suspicious. They misread my desires and intentions. No one wanted to believe me. So I refuse to do the same toward you, no matter our past differences."
A lighter breeze commenced, almost recognizing the weight lifted off their relationship. At least they'd come to an impasse of sorts. Nothing permanent, but it was a clear, refreshing started compared to the blind hatred. It was, after all, the most Draco had ever spoken to her without a witty, crude insult jumbled in. A nice progression, if you asked Hermione.
"I believed you." Hermione muttered, truth staining her words like a wine glass upturned on a white tablecloth. The phrase was probably the most sincere thing she'd said in weeks. "I knew you'd worked so hard to impress your father when you were younger. Now, seeing you finally building something for yourself without the threat of your last name bearing down on you, it was brave of you. You were ashamed of your past."
Draco gave a genuine but brief smile before standing up from the bench. A long breath escaped him, turning to smoke in the chilled night air.
"I am ashamed of my past, Hermione. You haven't the faintest idea."
This go-round, he was the one walking away, disappearing slowly with his shadow following loyally.
Draco was still puzzled. Why had he simply up and forgiven Hermione Granger of all people? Maybe it was the realization that she had been right. It hadn't been her fault, she'd just gone about the decision in the wrong context of things. She'd created suspicion around her choice by refusing to give her identity, but all the same, it had been wise. He knew the methods of Death Eaters far too well. The brand of a serpent on his wrist spoke volumes.
Insomnia was a quaint little device. It allowed him to think about things that he wouldn't normally permit himself to think about during the day at work and gave him plenty of chances to catch up on his paperwork. However, he needed the sleep. Now that he'd be having Hermione in his near-constant company due to the case, Draco would need to procure a good couple hours of rest to keep up with her. It certainly wouldn't hurt. He'd have time to think about the entirety of the situation tomorrow.
He loosened the noose that was his black tie and fell onto his bed, fully clothed. His slumber was long overdue.
A cloaked figure stalked the deserted, damp alleyways, chuckling madly to himself. He twirled his wand in his fingers, a grin stretching from ear to ear above his chin stubble. The clacking of his shoes alarmed the figure he was heading toward, also clad in a dark, billowy cloak. Rats squeaked and scampered off at the sight of the pair.
"It used to be, 'once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy'. Draco seemed to break the mold of that one, didn't he?" The cloaked man came to halt as he reached the other man. The man opposite from him cocked an eyebrow, seemingly bored.
"Just get to the point. Did you find out what he's planning to do with the case against Alec? We need some idea of what we're getting ourselves into."
The grin stretched further across his scabbed lips, bearing a set of unusually sharp teeth. "I've done one better, Hector. What would you say if I were to tell you that Hermione Granger is the one that's been putting us out like lights for the past couple of years?"
Hector froze, looking as if he were encased in ice. "Hermione Granger. The Mudblood filth? She's been helping the Ministry?"
"Rebuilding it single-handedly is more like it. I haven't seen that bloke do piss for the Ministry since he started there. He did make our job that much easier, I will say that." Another maniacal chuckle.
"Oliver, I believe you just earned yourself a raise." Hector flicked his wand, producing a bag of Galleons that hovered in front of his employee's very greedy eyes. Oliver snatched it, giddy to find that it was a reasonably heavy pouch.
"I knew you'd be pleased. Thank you!"
"Don't thank me quite yet. You still need to live up to your side of the deal, even though a new character's been added to our plan." Hector paused, his eyes boring into Oliver's. "Do as I say or it'll be your filthy, unshaven neck, do you hear me? We need Draco and that Mudblood to play the game our way."
A/N; Don't yell at me for my not-so-timely updating. I've been meaning to for weeks, honestly. I should be posting chapters more regularly now, whenever I find time to. Anywhoozle, here's chapter 4 and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Check chapter 3 for the disclaimer because I'm too tired to type it all out again. Once again, thanks to my reviewers and subscribers! Oh, and just so you weren't confused, my penname used to be GorgeouslyXHomicidal. After seeing Alice in Wonderland, I decided to switch things up a notch. Cheers and beers, xx.