I do not own Harry Potter or make any money off this fic. All rights to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, whomever.
Hermione pulled out the directions Professor McGonagall had given her and looked at them for a moment before glancing up at the staircase before them. She turned to Draco and shrugged.
"This is it," she murmured, before waving her own wand and taking over direction of the trunk.
Draco looked about them and then back at her. "I've never been in this part of the castle, have you?" he asked her. "I think I'd better come up with you. Are you certain this staircase leads straight to your door? How do you know it doesn't head down another hall?"
She shook her head and showed him the parchment. "See? It's sort of like the Headmaster's, or a head of house, only without the gargoyles and moving staircases. Makes sense, doesn't it? I doubt they have an entire wing with single rooms on it anywhere in this place."
"I wouldn't put anything past them," Draco argued. "Besides, I thought you'd read that history book about a dozen times."
"I have," she muttered. "But it doesn't say anything about living quarters for single parents, now, does it?"
"How should I know?" he shot back. "I've never read it."
She rolled her eyes and started up the stairs. "I can see I'm not going to get rid of you unless I let you follow me up to make sure there aren't any monsters under the bed."
Draco smirked and crossed his arms. "Call it whatever you like, Granger."
At that she stamped her foot and glared at him before continuing up the narrow circular staircase. When they reached the top, her trunk bumping along behind them ungracefully, she consulted the parchment again before pulling out an ancient key and inserting it in the lock. Carefully, she pulled the door open and peered inside. Draco tried to peer around her, but all he saw was the flurry of her robes before he heard a shout of delight.
"Why- it's lovely!" she exclaimed. He followed her up tentatively and guided her trunk in before he stepped inside.
His eyes were immediately assaulted with Gyffindor colors and he cringed. "Sure, lovely- like your own private Gryffindor dorm room, if you like that sort of thing."
She tossed him a smile and pulled the trunk farther into the room. "You won't spoil my mood, Draco…although, we really do need to talk about what happened at dinner, don't we?"
He raised an eyebrow in her direction and then took a seat on the nearby chaise, taking in his surroundings as she unpacked.
The door- a small oak panel that looked about three hundred years old- still hung slightly ajar and he waved his wand carelessly at it, sending it shut with a quiet whump. Hermione jumped some and looked over the top of her trunk, which was now on the floor.
"Oh- you shut the door. Er, thanks," she muttered, before delving back into her luggage's hidden recesses.
Draco allowed himself a smile and then got back to scrutinizing the room they were in. It was middling sized, with not-quite-a-room off to one side of the window. The bed was situated in this alcove- a somewhat larger model than those in their dorm rooms- and a small nightstand was nestled in beside it. Beyond the bed, on the far wall of the alcove, another door led to a small bathroom. The chaise he was seated on stood opposite the bed's space and was angled just away from the window so as not to catch any drafts, although there were already two sets of drapes lining that wall to block the chill. Across from the wall with the window was the fireplace and on the wall adjoining it stood a bookshelf and desk- similar to what one might find in a common room. The wardrobe also shared that wall and in the center of the room stood a round table with two high-backed chairs on either side. It was a cozy space, but large enough that a baby crib could easily be set up…he shook his head.
Nonsense. The child wouldn't be due before the year was out, would it? He counted in his head and looked at the top of Hermione's bushy head thoughtfully. When she glanced up at him again, he looked away quickly.
"So will you be alright?"
She gave him another small smile. "Of course. I'm not completely helpless, as you pointed out earlier."
Draco snorted. "Right, of course- how could I forget? You and your friends tackled half a dozen Death Eaters last summer and lived to tell the tale."
Hermione listened closely for any sign of bitterness or recrimination, but couldn't hear any. Ginny was probably right- he was one hell of an actor. They'd been partially responsible for his father ending up in Azkaban, after all…although that wasn't really their fault at all. If Lucius Malfoy had made better choices he never would have been put in that position.
Draco seemed to sense the direction her thoughts were taking and stood up. "No point in me staying any longer, then. And stop thinking those nasty thoughts about my father- it's not his fault he was raised by an elitist, power-hungry old man."
"But it is his fault that he went along with all of it," she responded evenly. She heard Draco stop his movements and waited for an angry response. She had, she realized, been waiting for just such an argument from the moment they'd been assigned this ridiculous charade. Perhaps it was unfair of her, but his kindness, his laid back manner all rubbed her the wrong way. It was unusual, to say the least; to say the most it was creepy. She knew, logically, that it made more sense for him to be so obliging in a situation like this one, but it weirded her out, frankly. Things had changed so quickly, between all these new and strange lessons and Draco hovering about her constantly, well. She needed some semblance of normalcy in order to survive, didn't she? And right now the only things that were normal in her life were her friendships with Ginny and Harry and the way she fought with pig headed, pureblood elitist, Voldemort followers like Draco Malfoy.
She looked up at him with anticipation of his next, preferably heated, remark. Instead she found him observing her coolly. His eyes seemed to bore into her and she could do nothing but listen to his mocking words.
"You want to fight, Granger? Too bad. I won't discuss the past sins of my family with anybody, let alone you. Not when we're doing each other a rather large mutual favor. I like things the way they are right now and, while I'm not really sorry that you're in this predicament, I have no desire to place anymore stress than necessary on those fragile shoulders of yours. I know you well enough, Hermione Granger, to know that you aren't as strong as you pretend to be."
She felt her eyes widen and tears of helpless anger pool in them as he watched her impassively. How dare he look into her that way? With a growl, she managed to thrust him from her head before she sat back on her heels, somewhat dazed.
"You had no right-" she began, but he cut her off.
"You think the Death Eaters are going to ask your permission before they invade you? What in Merlin's name has Snape even been teaching you? I'll have a word with him before I go back to the dorm, if you like."
"How can you stand there so collected after being such an-"
"Ah-ah, Granger. Don't say anything you'll regret. Now, do you think I should escort you to breakfast tomorrow?"
She glared at him and began hauling things from her trunk again. "No. But didn't you want to discuss this evening's events?"
Draco smirked to hide the apology that had been about to leave his lips. "Do you really want me to stay that badly?"
He just managed to make it out the door before a book flew in his direction. Hermione stayed where she was on the floor of her new home, surrounded by books and articles of clothing. She knew- she knew- that Draco meant well, somewhere inside that miserable well of a human being he was…didn't he? Confused, she yanked a few more things from the trunk. No, she hadn't really wanted him to stay after that horrid exchange. She couldn't believe he had actually used Legilimens on her…it was excruciating, to know that she had so far to go in her studies that even a low level one could penetrate the barriers Snape was helping her build…
It was also humiliating, wasn't it, for Draco to know that she felt comfortable enough around him that she let down her guard so far that all it took on his part was one look…but wasn't that the point of this whole escapade? For them to build a real relationship? How could he take advantage of that trust by just spying on her that way? And not even apologize? It was despicable. Maybe Harry was right and she should stop defending him.
But…there was something honest about him too, wasn't there? It wasn't all just an act- it couldn't be. Hermione, though she knew she was still a bit naïve about some things, had always considered herself a decent judge of character. And even though she knew he was a Death Eater already, though he'd always been cruel to herself and those she cared about before…well, some of the kindness she'd seen in him the last two weeks was real, wasn't it? She'd be willing to stake her N.E.W.T. scores on it. It went beyond all reason, of course, which was what Harry and Ron would be telling her, but Ron's word wasn't worth so much anymore and Harry had always been a bit of a hothead. Ginny, at least, didn't seem to mind so much, but she couldn't tell if that was because her friend actually thought Draco was alright or because she wanted to hear all the juicy details when they finally kissed and, er, other things. If there even needed to be other things.
For heaven's sake, they hadn't even gotten around to doing the first bit yet, let alone anything else. That fact was confusing in itself- that while he was the one pushing their relationship and rumors of it forward, he had yet to approach her or do more than whisper lewd things in her ear during class or touch her shoulders…and hair. She put a hand up to the frizzy mess self-consciously and resolved once more to learn a few good de-frizzing spells or potions. It couldn't be pleasant for him, touching a rat's nest like hers…she caught herself at the thought and rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her? The boy had just violated her and she was worrying about his discomfort? Perhaps those hormones she'd read about were kicking in. Causing unexpected feelings and mood swings concerning wankers without scruples.
"Thanks a lot," she said aloud, glaring at her belly. When nothing happened she rolled her eyes again. Merlin, I hope it's not a boy. Boys only know how to cause trouble, not fix it.
She huffed about a bit and put some books away. Well. If she wanted to avoid situations like this in the future, she would just have to be on her guard all the time. That would fit into the scenario, surely- nobody could expect, with the father of her baby being a Death Eater, for her to be happy and carefree all the time. Surely.
Outside her door, Draco paused to catch his thoughts and slow his racing heart. What was that? He hadn't meant to use Legilimens on her- it was a complete accident. But she had looked up at him and was so open, her eyes so honest that he almost couldn't help falling into them…the way he'd wished he could just moments before it had happened. Who wouldn't want those pools of warm brown chocolate looking at him, laughing with him, adoring him? Weasley was a sodding bloke, that's what he was. Oh, certainly, he knew it was safer (according to Dumbledore, the old bat) for him to claim her baby, but what man in his right mind would give up custody and rights of his child by that witch? And then go straight back to that Brown twat? It was beyond his reason. Sure, she might not be a pureblood, but her genes would make a fine addition to any wizarding family.
Genes? Who was he kidding? He was afraid his interest was beginning to have nothing to do with her genes and everything to do with the curve of her hips in her school skirt and the way her hair kinked about his fingers when he ran them through it. Merlin, what was wrong with him? This was a job- a business proposition, plain and simple. He was supposed to be using her to get to Dumbledore. Unless of course the plan has changed, the voice in his head murmured. He snarled at it, but the voice didn't shut up. Of course it has changed- didn't you realize? Or were you too busy wondering how best to get both hands in that head of hair?
Ah. So that was how things were. And now he was stuck with Snape on one side and Granger on the other and the Dark Lord ready to kill his parents at a moment's notice. He was treading a very dangerous line now. More dangerous than he thought he could handle. Kill an old man, sure- easy. Who couldn't do that? But pretend to be plotting to kill an old man while setting up an actual trap to do so and warning him at the same time that he tried to woo Hermione and convince her of his true intentions…that was another matter entirely. This was all going to blow up in his face- and now he had to start all over with the girl, as predicted, although not for the reason he'd thought.
He shivered and turned back to the small door. He'd wanted to apologize, he'd wanted to talk with her about his mother's howler…he'd wanted to defend his image to her. It was startling to realize how trusting and naïve she truly was. How could she be so innocent after everything she'd suffered and encountered? And why should he care what she thought of him, beyond that it was an alright chance to take to preserve her child's life? Why was he starting to care? He lifted a hand as if to knock on the door, then dropped it again.
What was the use? She was thoroughly upset now and it was best to leave it until tomorrow. If he truly had a problem with it later he could always send her an owl, or drag her out to talk after breakfast tomorrow. He suddenly wondered how the pregnancy was going. She was looking a little thin, wasn't she? He knew that morning sickness was giving her some trouble, especially as it seemed to be showing up at all different hours of the day. Well, then. He'd let her rest tonight. They could talk tomorrow, if she felt like it.
As for himself, he knew he needed to speak with someone about the predicament he'd gotten himself into…but it could wait until tomorrow too, couldn't it? He needed sleep and his schemes wouldn't solve themselves. Neither would those grades of his. So, desperately trying to fool himself into thinking that things were alright for the time being, he made his way down the stairs and into the corridors that would take him to the dungeons.