He watched as the dark smoke swirled around his head in circular wisps; he was lost in thoughts again and sitting at the worn table of the kitchen in this hell hole of East London, steadily working his way through pots and packs of Granger's Columbian Coffee and Marlboro Cigarettes. Fucking Muggle Shit. Her shit. Was there nothing he could do to escape her? Everything about her had become his addiction. If she noticed it at all, she never gave even the slightest hint that she was aware of how much she had gotten under his skin. Draco pushed the sleeves up higher on his black button down, his eyes falling to the grotesque tattoo on his muscled forearm. He chuckled sardonically. The reminder of every mistake he had ever made, the culmination of his cowardly and delusional thinking. He took a deep drag, so deep it burned his lungs; Draco relished the pain he knew he deserved. Nothing could be undone, he had allowed others to ruin the chance he could have had. Self-loathing at his childish actions stabbed deep in his mind. Not that any of it mattered now, technically speaking. Lucius was in Azkaban for life and his mother had gone insane. Draco was more alone then he could have possibly thought following the end of the war. He was sure the karma that had been creeping steadily after him had finally caught up. If only Snape had just let him die in peace instead of getting him wrapped up in this fuckup of a living situation. Him, an Auror.
He never even thought it could have been a possibility but here he was, reformed, fighting for himself for once in his pampered life. Well not just himself, but for the peace he now knew would come from the "good guys" winning. Ugh, as if Potter wasn't insufferable enough before finally claiming his title as "Savior of the Wizarding World." To be honest, Potter wasn't the issue. Draco saw him at most, 3 times a week and they both had seemed to silently agree on being…cordial. So when Snape finally convinced him and Pansy to sign up for Auror training and take their tests, it was only after they had passed and accepted that he informed them of their, less than stellar, living arrangements. Both himself and Weasely had hit the roof, literally, upon first contact. It was an unpleasant surprise for all parties involved and before Pansy could hex Ron into oblivion, Weasely had taken a cheap shot at his perfect face. Chaos had erupted. And Granger had played the voice of reason, restraining everyone with some seriously complicated non-verbal magic. Just as Draco was suggesting she get her lap dog and God-awful hair under better control, their eyes connected and he felt the wind punched from him. When had she become so fucking beautiful?
Draco smirked at the thought of their first encounter as true allies. She looked at him without hate, without fear...well, definitely mistrust and irritation, but he realized in that moment, that this was Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl, giving him a second chance, a clean slate. It seemed strange but suddenly, he saw her differently. Not as the enemy, not as a rival, not even as Potter's best friend. She was simply a beautiful, strong, woman who was asserting her powerful magic over him, and he was turned on. Draco had never allowed himself to contemplate her in this way, and now the challenge of wanting to know her surged through him more powerful than ever before. And like a smack in the face, he knew he would have to prove himself to her, and he would. He was still trying. Dammit.
He smashed his butt into the worn table before grabbing another fag from the pack. God these things are delicious. And that one thought had his mind off soaring with what she tasted like. A shiver ran up his spine as he raked his hands through his hair.
"Out. Out Damn Spot." He swore under his breath. He was going to fucking lose it soon if he couldn't have her. They were friends yes; crazy competitive, argumentative, driving each other to complete distraction, but God he couldn't get enough of her.
"It's a little early for Shakespeare, even for me." A soft voice interrupted his internal conflict from the door. Draco's head snapped up as she stood there staring at him with a look of amusement. "Aren't you going to offer me a cup of my own coffee?" She smirked as she sauntered in the room in a ridiculously large shirt and boxers, Draco couldn't help but glance at her shapely legs. She pulled up the chair across from him. "I deduced it was you, you know?" Draco raised one eyebrow as she looked down at his hands. He pushed the French Press towards her. "I saw you muttering under you breath last time I was making it, and for the past few weeks I've smelled it all the way from the upstairs hall- you know you don't need to use that many scoops-"
Draco sighed in irritation as she grabbed his cup instead, taking a deep sip and sputtering.
"I like it strong." He laughed at her pinched face.
"My God, that's strong enough to peel paint off the ceiling." He pulled the mug back with a little defense.
"Well how you drink it is just bloody disgusting. Plus, I need all the energy I can get, listening to you lecture always makes my brain ache." She pouted as she went about making her own cup. Draco knew it well, two sugars, way too much cream.
"That's only because you can't keep up." She sighed with contentment and licked a bit of coffee off her upper lip. Draco's hands itched to plunge themselves into her massively unruly hair.
"I can keep up just fine." She wanted a challenge? Fine, Draco could only hope she recognized the intent behind his raspy voice. His jaw ticked as she bit down on her lip, chancing a glance up at him. Several moments passed as Draco continued to inhale the cigarette, his gaze unwavering. Hermione stared off into the empty fire grate, her could hear her mind working a thousand miles a minute.
"And my fags too," she continued softly. "It seems you've acquired a taste for those as well." He leaned back in the chair, slowly sliding the pack towards her with his long, lean fingers.
"I'd called it more of an infatuation then just a taste." Her head snapped back towards him at that, her eyebrow raised in clear curiosity.
"It's good to see you finally assimilating to Muggle culture." Snarky bitch.
"I can't seem to stay away." Draco smirked when a blush rose high across her chest, neck and crept onto her delicious cheeks. His cock twitched at the thought of him making her blush in all sorts of places. Like whiplash, her mood changed within a moment and she was suddenly looking apprehensive and contrite. She twirled her fingers in anticipation and Draco scowled at what he knew was coming.
"I really wish you and Ron could work things out-" She began softly. Draco slammed the two legs of the chair he had been leaning back on against the stone floor with a finality that made her close her eyes.
"Look at me now, Granger, and listen clear. That will never fucking happen." Her eyes shot open with disappointment.
"Not even for me?" She whispered timidly. That pissed him the fuck off.
"Not even…? What is that even supposed to mean? For you? News flash, I'm not some sick little puppy dog that follows you around taking your orders. Are we clear?" His snarl was vicious and she glared at him with anger.
"Stop being such a brat!"
"Then stop asking me for the impossible. He hates me, I despise him. It's not going to change so whatever happy little picture you've created in your head, I suggest you destroy it."
"I just think we could do with a little more peace-" He leaned forward, pressing into her personal space.
"I think we've achieved a whole lot of fucking peace. You and Parkinson have become swotty, little besties, Potter and I can get through a whole meeting without a single insult muttered while Snape and Black have reading time together in that twisted excuse of a drawing room. How much more do you want from me, woman?"
"It's just exhausting, on everyone, if you and Ron could just be civil-" Draco crossed his arms and sneered at her with the upmost contempt.
"No." Hermione's face twisted into one of maniacal determination. She was looking at him as if he was a particularly difficult N.E.W.T. prep test.
"But you are civil to me! And you hated me more than Ron and Harry put together. Remember? I am a Mudblood!" Draco flinched at her fury, his shame consuming him almost at once. His body reacted of it's own accord: throwing himself over the table to grab her arms with tortured desperation. She gasped at the contact.
"Don't say that." He snapped. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. My hate for you, it was misplaced, everything I projected on you was the hate I felt for myself. Now that I know, how wrong I was… How could I hate you? " His breath fell on her face, he needed her to understand. Hermione fought a wave of desire that coursed through her at the proximity of his penetrating eyes.
"Then Ron should be-" He let go of her abruptly and reached for her cigarettes. His hands shaking with rage and pain.
"Weasely is less deserving of respect than most men I've met. He is a sniveling, pathetic excuse for a wizard and would be nothing without you and Potter. End. Of. Story." He stood suddenly, wanting nothing more than to get away from her hypnotic stare. He turned towards the fire grate, concentrating on cooling his emotions. How was she capable of making his blood boil with only a few sentences? Fuck, her silence made him feel empty. Minutes passed.
He felt her before anything else and then the fireplace erupted into a blazing inferno. He quirked an eyebrow at her slight form standing beside him.
"Show off." He muttered. She smiled and leaned towards him, not taking her eyes from the dancing flames.
"So how do you feel about me going out for some field work?" That's what he loved about their conversations. She always jumped around and he never missed a beat.
"It's about time. I was beginning to think you were going soft, hold up in the dungeons constantly mixing potions." His heart thrummed at the anticipated outrage she would express. He wasn't disappointed.
"Those potions are saving hundreds of peoples lives!" Her hair stood on end like an angry tabby.
"You're brilliant in battle, you don't deserve to be shoved away in some dark lab."
"That's besides the point, its important work." She sniffed delicately. He sniggered lightly.
"Yes but it's positively, dreadfully, boring." She threw him a disdainful glance. "I sense you are looking for some action. It's not like the heroin of the Wizarding World to stay away from the front lines."
"Yes," She stated in a matter of fact tone. "I think my skills and experience would be a definite contribution to these missions. For example, I'm not allergic to cats." He turned his head towards her in disbelief. Was she mocking him? Of course she was, the sassy little tart, she was smirking at him. And she had the gall to call him arrogant?! He was going to show her. His arms darted out and grabbed her before she could protest and lifted her in one swift movement, throwing her carelessly over his shoulder. She huffed in protest, swatting at him.
"Oh, honestly. Put me down! Right. Now." She emphasized, smacking his back.
"No problem, princess." He made motion to fling her into the massive fireplace and she screamed indignantly. It was unfortunate that Ron Weasely had chosen this moment of time to enter the kitchen, Pansy was right behind him.
"Oi!" He screamed in fury as he came stalking across the room at them. Pansy rolled her eyes and pulled her wand, just incase. Who was she kidding? This was going to be bad. Draco quickly dropped Hermione to her feet just as Ron reached him, shoving him back with an aggressive growl. Hermione stepped between them, hands out in either direction her face turned towards Ron.
"Ron, calm down-" His eyes were trained on Draco, hate and jealously pouring off him in excess.
"Calm down?!" He bellowed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing touching her? How dare you even think about touching her." He seethed. Draco felt the blood rushing to his head, just one Unforgivable, that's all he would need.
"Ron, please. Draco was just-" His eyes snapped to Hermione with indignation.
"Draco?" He snarled. "Draco was just what, Hermione?" Hermione had seemed to run out of words; Pansy felt the right thing to do, as a friend, was intervene.
"Jesus Weasely, take it down 10 notches. It's clear they were only fooling around." She smiled at Hermione, satisfied that this would be an excusable explanation. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, waiting for the explosion. She chanced a glance at Ron he was absolutely apoplectic.
"Fooling around?" He whispered in a deadly calm. Pansy seemed to realize her mistake, but Draco's smirked widened.
"Yes, Weasely." He taunted stepping up to the redhead. "We were just fooling around, right, Granger?" He purred. Ron saw red. Before Draco could contemplate his next move Ron swung his fist up and sucker punched Draco right in the face. He stumbled back, hitting the table, recovered within seconds and charged at Ron. Pansy was screaming. Hermione had jumped out of the way, pulled her wand and within seconds had them pinned against opposite walls.
"Fuck you Malfoy!" Ron roared, fighting against Hermione's binding spell. Draco wiped the blood off his face before throwing Ron a vindictive grin.
"That is the FIFTH time you have attacked me like a fucking coward! Oh you are going to pay so dearly, Weasely. So fucking dearly."
"Enough!" Hermione looked more dangerous than a Manticore. Her hair was crackling with magic, her eyes burning with irritation. "Stop acting like children. The both of you."
Pansy let out a high pitch shriek of laughter.
"Oh God, these two." She gave them an amused glance before stealing Hermione's coffee and adding a generous amount of firewhiskey to it.
"I love this shit, Granger. You have to let me buy the next batch."
Hermione threw a look of disbelief at her partner in crime then addressed the furious children.
"Ridiculous! You are both grown men, the war is done, get over your petty grudges, grow up and STOP THIS!"
"What about you?" Spat Ron. "Will you stop? Stop allowing a fucking Death Eater to put his hands all over you like one of his common whores?!" Hermione reacted as if she had been slapped, while Draco lost what little color was left in his face, his astonishment clear at Weasely's crudeness.
"You fucking asshole!" Pansy roared brandishing her wand at him. Draco felt a sense of pleasure at the suffering Weasely was about to endure. Fortunately for Ron and most unfortunately for Pansy, Snape and Sirius slammed through the door and took in the sight with completely opposite reactions. Sirius grinned in obvious amusement before bestowing Pansy with a kiss on the hand. She lowered her wand before he reached the cigarettes. Snape however swiftly approached Hermione.
"Miss Granger, you may let down your barrier if these two animals have finished their morning ritual, we have immediate plans to discuss." It was like an instant reaction, all four heads snapped towards Snape with unwavering interest. Hermione let both Draco and Ron go, dropping Ron a little harder than necessary. All six of them found a seat around the table. Ron muttered under his breath still glaring at Draco as he took his seat next to Hermione throwing an arm around her chair possessively, his eyes taunting him, looking for a fight. Pansy sat next to Draco, looking at him with concern, he was wiping the blood off his face while watching Hermione who was steadily ignoring him. She shuffled her chair away from Ron. He looked at her hurt, then leaned in to whisper loudly.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione- that was out of order-" She nodded stiffly, avoiding his gaze. Draco snorted in disgust.
Sirius picked up a whiskey bottle and took a swig as Snape looked on with disapproval.
"Snatchers." Snape drawled. "A band of them have been spotted in SoHo, I need two of you to capture them. The other two, I need that Felix Felicis done by noon. Potter and Longbottom are attempting an extremely complicated stake out tonight and knowing those two, they will need all the luck they can...get." Draco smirked at his Godfather.
"Will Harry need back up?" Hermione asked eagerly, sitting poised in her chair, a quill and parchment at her disposal. Draco chuckled at the irony, as she threw him a withering glare.
"If they were going to call anyone in for back up it better be me!" Sirius interjected. "It's about time they give me something more interesting to do than-"
"Yes Sirius, we all know how willing you are to be called on for another suicide mission. But considering your perpetual state of drunkenness..." Snape rolled his eyes in annoyance. "No. There will be no back up."
"When do we leave?" Ron questioned rather savagely. His anger issues had always been his driving force. And the battle going on inside his head as he looked between his girlfriend and his enemy made his bloodlust that much stronger.
"Tonight. However, Mr. Weasely, you will be staying here to assist…Ms. Parkinson." Pansy rolled her eyes.
"Joy." Sirius offered her a sympathetic smile.
"Don't worry Pans, I'll be here, second floor, third door from the left…" He waggled his eyebrows at her and the look Snape threw him was dark enough to silence a banshee.
"What?" Ron growled, still absorbing this new information. "You are going to let her go out there with him?"
"If you haven't noticed I'm sitting right here Ronald and am more than capable of making my own decisions." But Ron plowed on, his gaze now falling to Severus.
"You can't be serious! You want her risking her neck? With a Death Eater."
"If you call him that one more time, I swear-" Hermione bristled.
"Better than risking it with a broke prat who doesn't know his wand from his dick-" Draco snarled.
"Shut. Up." Hermione growled and Draco's eyes snapped to hers with betrayal. Snape slammed his hands down on the table.
"This. Is my final word. If you don't like it, feel free to resign from your position and get…out." Hermione breathed deeply, her eyes trained on Ron who was close to losing his composure.
"You…you can't. I won't have her in danger." Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron's pathetic plea.
"When are you going to get it, Weasely? Granger is the brightest witch of her age, she doesn't need protecting. She's more capable than you and The Boy Who Refused To Die put together. Are you so impotent that you have to question her talent?" Hermione blushed and Ron turned a sickly purple. Sirius' eyes were like saucers and Snape had closed his eyes hoping the meeting would be over soon and he could return to the quite of the study. They were worse than that damn clock.
"Oh so now you care about her, Malfoy? Now you think you know her? That's funny, since, you know, not long ago you were plotting her death." Draco rose quickly to his feet in rage, ready to destroy Weasely anyway he could. Snape gave him a warning look that wasn't to be questioned.
"Enough." The quiet hush of breath was barely audible, but it sounded like screaming in their ears. Snape's deadly calm could only mean one thing, they had very nearly pushed him over the edge. Both Draco and Ron realized they should really just shut the fuck up.
Silence, then-
"I agree with Draco." Pansy piped up. "Hermione should be allowed to make her own choices."
"Hear hear!" Sirius chimed in taking another swig of booze. Hermione turned her body towards Ron, reaching out for his hand. Draco visibly tensed, his fists clenching and unclenching in syncopation.
"Ron, really, it's more than fine." She looked at him imploringly. "I know what I'm doing. Have I ever let you down before?" He snatched his hand back as if it had been burned. His eyes roamed the table as all present stared at him with varying degrees of disbelief.
"Fuck this." Ron slammed his hands down on the table. "Fuck all of you." He jumped to his feet. "We will see what Harry has to say about this." He stormed from the room. Pansy scoffed before heading towards the frig to make some breakfast, Sirius stared after her, a far away look in his eyes.
Hermione was staring at the table, unshed tears of frustration and hurt barely concealed. Snape watched Draco, his eyes on Hermione; his lithe physique trembled, whether it was with lust or rage, he couldn't decide. Maybe it was both. Snape slowly pulled out two large files of parchment and slid them across the darkened surface.
"These…are the coordinates and all the information we have gathered on the suspects. They are rounding up drunk and drugged Muggles and killing them for payment. There is...obviously... a bigger source at the root of this. I suggest you aim for stealth and arm yourselves properly, this will not be an easy win but it is essential for these men to confirm who they are working for." Both Draco and Hermione nodded once. Draco kicked the chair away from the table before grabbing the cigarettes and lighter. Hermione's gaze landed on the door Ron had slammed through several minutes before.
"I just need 10 minutes-" She started to say, thinking she had to try to convince Harry that Ron was overreacting, she needed this distraction desperately. Oh, and she didn't want to be fighting with Ron either. Yes, that was important as well.
"Library, Granger. 5 minutes." She snapped her gaze to his, furious with his cold dismissal and lack of regard for the happiness that existed in her relationship with Ron. God Malfoy was so bloody selfish. She stood gathering her things methodically.
"Library, Malfoy. 15 minutes." The use of his last name had his jaw ticking with fury and she couldn't suppress the small victory her overly large brain often sought against him. How dare he order her around after goading Ron and being purposefully disagreeable? Yes, he had been defending her as well, but since when did she need him to come to her rescue? Couldn't he just be the bigger man? At the moment he was looking as if he'd love nothing more than to punish her. That should have sounded worse than it actually did, get your hormones under control Hermione! He was the one always out of control. She allowed herself a smug, private smile as she turned her back and headed out of the kitchen.
"Fine." His voice filled with malevolent amusement stopped her dead in her tracks. "I'll do it all myself." She turned slowly looking at him with disbelief.
"You wouldn't." Her nostrils flared and Draco was positive that fire would start pouring out of them any second.
"Oh but I would." He rolled his shoulders as he stalked closer to her with what Hermione believed to be way too massive of an amount of sexiness. Bloody Malfoy, he invaded her personal space without a second thought then looked down at her with maddening superiority.
"Weren't you just telling me two nights ago….? We were in the library, late, very late…I believe everyone else had already gone to bed..."
Draco let his wicked words hang for several tense moments, his eyes turning dark with desire, as Hermione's widened in disbelief. Pansy quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow and exchanged a lascivious glance with Sirius. Snape's expression was uglier than a gargoyle's.
Oh, but Malfoy wasn't finished. "You said to me, you said how thorough my research was, how skilled I was at deduction as well as using my wand." She looked up at him in outrageous shock. Pansy was doubled over in laughter and Sirius was grinning, his gaze falling on Snape's immense disapproval of the entire situation. Hermione seemed to be following the same thought pattern of Severus because she looked not even remotely amused and completely, horridly, embarrassed.
"I never- I didn't say. Like that. You are speaking completely out of context- I-" She stuttered furiously.
"So really Granger, no need to get yourself into an emotional tither. I will do the paper work, and send in the report. Mind you to look up some spells and have a little refresher. Can't really have you getting killed on my watch, can I?" The smirk slipped slowly off of his face, replaced by a nasty sneer that spoke volumes of his capabilities. "Then we'd all just be proving your biased piece of shit boyfriend correct." He was dangerous standing there, his eyes wicked, his toned body heaving with tension, it was always amazing to her how relaxed and nonchalant he could appear even when his insides were a raging storm. Hermione's eyes fell to the Dark Mark curling around his gloriously perfect skin. His beauty made her stomach clench, the arrogant sod! And who was Draco bloody Malfoy to talk about being biased? Her temper flared up at his sheer nerve.
"It's not as if Ron doesn't have reasons for his views. At least it's logical that he can't stand you." She was sure Malfoy was going to hex her right on her ass. She flinched, he was like looking down murder.
"Logical? Says the walking brain. That's all you really are, aren't you? Filled with your safe facts and your perfect morals, your whole pathetically boring little life in a nutshell, all planned out. Give up your career, give up the things you believe in, just to pop out some ginger fucks with a- a…"
"A what? A blood- traitor? Go ahead, Malfoy, spit it out!" She nearly screamed, tearing at her hair. Pansy had completely forgotten about the bacon that was now a small bonfire on the stovetop, and Sirius had finished the whiskey. Snape looked like he was fighting a battle between leaving the room or putting this insane display of bizarre affection to an end.
But it was him. He, Draco, was the one to end it. Blood- traitor really? That was the least insulting thing he could think to call Weasely, he had so many awful qualities, and Weasel blood was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, as was hers. The look he gave her was one of cold disappointment.
"Glad to see you thinking so highly of me, Granger. Warms my cold, dead heart."
"Oh? My apologies. I didn't realize you had one." She sneered looking very much like a Slytherin Ice Queen herself. Draco spun on his heel walking out of the kitchen; kissing Pansy on the cheek and lighting another one of HER cigarettes.
"Malfoy, you bloody-!"
"Library, Hermione. Five minutes."
He let the door swing shut, cherishing the fire he had set in her eyes. Her blazing passion suited his cold skin perfectly.
Hermione stormed from the kitchen several moments later, not before slamming her coffee mug in the sink, blasting a chair half away across the kitchen towards Sirius' inappropriate comments about how Malfoy's wand was related to the Black wand…She grabbed a plate of burnt bacon from Pansy with a nod of thanks and tore from the kitchen, muttering jinx's under her breath.
Pansy turned towards a slightly tipsy Sirius sporting a bump on his head from Hermione's tantrum and Snape. Who looked exasperated. She looked down at the burnt breakfast, frowning.
"Whiskey." Snape muttered. "Bring me whiskey." Pansy's smirk lit up the room.
"Yes," She hissed. "We need a plan, Sir, a good one…and what is the perfect inspiration for wickedness if not a fine whiskey?" She purred as she settled herself in between the two gentleman clad in only her silk robe and fluffy slippers. Sirius summoned a bottle and three glasses and poured liberally, arching an eyebrow at Snape.
"Sure you can handle it, you old bat?" He barked at his own joke.
"Shut. Up. Black, can't you ever just….shut…up?"
"What shall we toast to?" Pansy raised her glass as Snape downed his without the slightest consideration. Sirius tutted at his pour manners.
"We shall drink to a new generation!" Sirius roared.
"To the mingling of muggles and muggleborns, experimenting…" Pansy purred. They both looked to Snape. He rolled his eyes before pouring another glass.
"To Miss Granger and Malfoy. May they not make the same mistakes as I." He muttered into his glass drinking deeply.
Mistakes indeed. Snape thought heavily as he watched Pansy grab Sirius' hand for comfort. Coming here had been a mistake for sure. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, he scoffed to himself. In the end, us Slytherins are always our own worst enemy.