Draco-fucking-Malfoy had not been on the list of people Hermione had guessed might be coming toward them. Truthfully she'd let herself hope it would be a friend, not a foe - perhaps someone from the Ministry, tracking them down to tell them the mystery had been solved, call off the hunt, this was all a bit of confusion.
Alas, it was Malfoy. After all these years. The last time she'd seen him - it had been The War. She shivered, remembering.
Here he stood, looking calmly murderous.
"I should have known." His voice was deep, soft. A man's voice, now. "Potter, Weasley. And Granger. You three were to be expected, trespassing in my cave."
"Your cave?!" squeaked Ginny.
But it all became clear to Hermione in one harsh moment of clarity. A blinding moment of revelation - and it hit her so hard she stumbled slightly to the side, straightening herself before she fell to the hard ground.
"That's right," said Malfoy smugly, meeting Hermione's eyes. It's his cave. His cave, because it's his land. That mystery place on the map - a mystery no longer. They're Malfoy lands. We've been on his territory the whole time. She swallowed, and looked away. To the back of Harry's head, which was inclined as though this was idle chatter about the weather.
"We're here on official Ministry business," said Harry casually. "I'd tell you more but I don't want to."
Malfoy shrugged and began to walk, in a slow, wide circle, around them and their fire and their sad little dinner. Hermione felt embarrassed but couldn't have explained why. "I don't give a bloody fig for your desires, Potter. Nor for the Ministry. But if you were really here on 'official business,'" he flicked his wand to shoot green sparks for emphasis, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "you would know that my family's hold on this land is so old it predates your government."
Hermione pivoted her body to face him as he took his lazy, long strides to. She did not want him at her back - now, or ever. Malfoy noticed, and chuckled meanly. "Afraid of me, Granger? I haven't seen you in awhile. Can't imagine what you think I might want with you." He looked her up and down pointedly. It gave her the chance to examine him, too, in her wandlight.
He'd aged, unfortunately, very well. Malfoy's jawline had lost every trace of the boy he'd been at Hogwarts. His cheekbones were sharp, defined. Full lips that could only be described as posh. His hair, eyebrows, eyelashes were as blond as they'd always been, and his skin was as pale. But he now bore the harsh countenance of a man. The strong, lean body of a man. Narrow, grey eyes, older than his years. She had forgotten how tall he was - a head and a half above her. How fine his clothes were. She shifted in her hiking boots, keenly aware of her damp shirt and short stature and dirty face.
Nevertheless, this was Malfoy. Hermione tossed her head, dirty curls swaying, trying to sound dismissive. "I'm just embarrassed that you found us. Clearly I didn't cast satisfactory protection charms."
Malfoy shrugged a dark shoulder. "Nor could you have. I didn't find you. The wards on this place alerted me the moment you set foot through the entrance." He was still walking around them in a lap at the edge of the circle created by their combined Lumos.
"You could have ignored us," said Harry. She looked at his profile. He was nonchalant. "But you didn't because you didn't know who it was. You had to come and see."
"You're not wrong." Malfoy stopped in front of Hermione. "This place is - very old. As is its magic." She did not look at him, keeping her eyes on the side of Harry's face. She would never give him the satisfaction.
"Clumsy," said Ginny. "The magic, that is."
Malfoy pursed his lips sarcastically. "Sure. But also powerful."
Harry sighed. "Now that you're here, let's cut to it. I know you're not disposed to be useful . . . ever. But we would appreciate any news you've received. Sightings, perhaps, of a creature? Anything unusual might be interesting. Have you had reports?"
Malfoy hesitated a beat. "I have not."
"It's a fineable offense to lie to Ministry officials, Malfoy," said Ginny. Hermione smiled despite herself. Gin was using her work voice.
"Send the charge to my counselor," said Malfoy dryly. "He'll return your little invoice attached to a formal complaint about the Ministry conducting non-emergency business and failing to notify the landowner in advance. Speaking of which - it is time for you to leave."
Hermione laughed incredulously and looked at Malfoy before she could stop herself.
He smirked at her and held a hand to the side, toward the mouth of the cave. "After you, Granger."
"We can't leave," she scoffed. "We have to stop it, whatever it is. It's hurting people. People who live on this estate, in fact. Actually, no one should be more anxious to get rid of it than you."
Malfoy stepped forward and Hermione tilted her head back involuntarily. "Whatever you think is here is not from here. And the people who live here aren't serfs, Granger. If anyone's gotten themselves hurt it's on them. Not on my family."
Harry intervened then, stepping forward and between them. "We're not saying they're serfs, Malfoy. We're saying that something magical is currently on your lands, causing harm, which makes its capture at least partly your responsibility. Now, we won't ask that you actually contribute to the cause, but you do need to let us continue our work."
"I don't have to let you do anything, Potter." He swung his head to look at Harry. "I would prefer to resolve this without force."
Harry stepped toward him so that they were no more than a foot apart. "As would I."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to watch a pissing contest I'd ask my brothers to tell me which has bagged the most birds."
"Ginny!" exclaimed Harry and Hermione in unison. Malfoy chuckled.
"Fair point, Weasley." He turned abruptly and paced back and forth before returning to face them. "I concede that trouncing Potter - though it would scratch a lifelong itch - would still leave me the problem of what to do with you and Granger here. And this alleged monster." He crunched a bit of rock under the heel of an expensive-looking boot. "Unfortunately, I can't leave you here alone."
"You can," insisted Hermione. "If you don't have any helpful leads, just go and let us continue."
"I cannot." He smirked at her. It did not meet his eyes. He looked . . . tired, actually. If she saw him as a stranger on the street – What would you do, Hermione, if you saw this man on the street? She bit the inside of her cheek. You'd whirl around to get another look. You'd wonder what's happened to him in his life. He looks like he's been through something. It was in his eyes, the line of his shoulders, a slight twitch of his fingers. In that moment, she wanted, more than anything, for Malfoy to disappear so that she could turn to Harry and Ginny and ask if they could see it. He does not want us here.
"How shall we extricate ourselves, then, from this quagmire?" Hermione pursed her lips expectantly.
"What makes you think whatever you're hunting is here?" Malfoy asked.
"It left a trail," said Ginny, glancing at Harry to confirm he didn't mind her explaining. "A trace. We followed it here, from where it attacked a couple of wizards last week. Before the magic was washed away by the rain."
Harry cast the revealing spell and the soft glow of the monster's track appeared, a nearly-straight line through the cave from where they'd entered, flowing past them, to where the cavern narrowed and continued on into the earth. Malfoy glanced at it. His jaw twitched.
"Do you know what it's called?" asked Harry.
Malfoy paused, considering. "I do not." But hung in the air.
A silence descended, which Harry and Malfoy each waited patiently for the other to fill.
Ginny was the first to crack. "This thing attacked two muggles and two wizards, Malfoy. It left them in some sort of comatose state. They're alive but unable to eat or drink or talk."
"Where?"
"On your lands," said Hermione irritably. "Try picking up a newspaper."
He turned his back then, pacing a bit away, moving fluidly over the stones. Does he know this place or not? wondered Hermione.
Malfoy looked at the trace, kicked through it with his toe, tested its properties. Hermione rolled her eyes. "We can answer any questions. We've examined it six ways to Sunday."
But he didn't speak, just walked back and forth through the magical line. His face was blank but Hermione knew he was thinking carefully, evaluating all options. Determining what is best for him, and him alone.
Finally, he turned to Harry. "How far ahead was it?"
"Several days. But now that it's trapped here-"
"That shows how little you know, Potter. This cave system is massive. It could take weeks to find it. And that assumes you can corner it. Which, I doubt."
Harry shrugged. "We have to try. We can't let it escape. It could hurt more people."
"And we want to find the antidote to its magic," reminded Hermione. "To help its victims." Malfoy ignored her, his eyes on Harry.
"I'll give you twenty four hours. On the condition that you don't tell anyone that it was found on my family's property. We've - I've - gone to great lengths to keep our name off of these lands."
Harry fired back. "We'll take as long as it takes and be honest about what happens and where."
"A day from now this cave will kick you out at a whisper from me. And I'll make it a personal mission to end your careers if you let it be known who owns this place." Malfoy didn't sound angry. Just - confident.
"How will it do that?" scoffed Ginny. "What kind of magic?"
Malfoy ignored her. Them. He flicked his wand and the trace disappeared.
Harry sighed. "We just want to complete our mission. We don't give a flying broomstick that this is Malfoy territory."
Malfoy began walking deeper into the cave, following where the trace had been, his robes swirling behind him. "Then we won't have a problem. I don't make the rules here. Like I said, it's old magic. It was here long before us. It will remain long after us. And it doesn't like strangers."
Harry gestured to their knapsacks and moved to pick his up, whispering to their group. "Let's follow him. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Shouldn't we gather our things?" whispered Ginny, eyeing her half chopped vegetables and crackling camp fire.
"There's a better place ahead," called Malfoy. "Suitable for a rest."
Harry shook his head at Ginny once. Leave it. She did not argue. They were all keenly aware that sound traveled.
Slinging bags over their shoulders, they got in line following Malfoy. Harry, then Ginny, and Hermione in the rear.
They walked in silence for several minutes, the only light from their wands. The path became rockier, if that was possible, and the going slower.
"Keep up," said Malfoy harshly.
"Thanks for being such an accommodating tour guide," called Hermione.
"Tip generously."
Dreadful prat.
They went on like that for some time, through narrow passages and along a trail that didn't appear to have been used by a person for quite a while. It was silent except for their breathing, the scrape of their boots, the far-off sound of water. Their little group did not speak to each other, but Harry occasionally cast the Revelio spell to ensure they were following the creature's trail.
Bringing up the rear, Hermione watched how each of them moved - Malfoy with long, smooth strides that hardly ever made a noise. Harry and Ginny behind him, unwittingly walking in tandem, their feet finding the same steps as they picked their way over the rocks. It made Hermione smile. If only they would see it themselves.
After a time they paused to take a drink and rest for a moment. Malfoy leaned against the cave wall, pale and broody, while Harry and Ginny sat on boulders. Hermione, holding her lit wand out in front of her, wandered slowly around the little grotto in which they found themselves.
She spotted some kind of unusual rock formation at the edge of her light. Curious, she stepped forward toward a cache of stalagmites to study them - and promptly caught her shoe in a hole she hadn't seen. As she stumbled forward, flailing to catch herself, she heard Ginny shriek.
But a strong hand gripped her elbow, hauling her upright. Saving her face from slamming into the rock.
Malfoy. "Arms and legs inside the ride, Granger."
Her skin pricked where he'd touched it.
Feet on steady ground, Hermione ripped her arm from his grasp. Her whole body trembled. With rage. "Do not touch me, Malfoy. Never." She said it with such vitriol that Ginny's and Harry's eyes widened.
He did not step back or away, but dipped his blond head at her in mocking deference. "Like I would want to touch . . . you," he whispered.
She heard what he meant, though, clear as day. Like he would ever willingly touch a filthy Mudblood. Everything about Malfoy screamed pretension - the well-bred line of his jaw. The neat arch of his eyebrows. The full swells of his lips, their color a subtle contrast against his skin. His black sweater under his open robes was tailored and impossibly clean in a place that decidedly wasn't. He smelled faintly of a woodsy cologne. The opposite of Hermione in every way. Her own unique scent wafted out - mud with a hint of sweat. Her white shirt was rumpled and splotched. Boots caked with dirt. Her hair - she could only imagine. It hung in heavy limp strands around her shoulders, begging for a wash and some kind of creme.
Glaring at each other, they separated and got back in line. Hermione was glad to be as far away from him as possible when they resumed their descent. She tried not to look at him, though he was so tall he was difficult to miss. He nearly filled the narrow and low tunnels. He had to stoop more than any of them.
It was some time later, though impossible to measure thanks to the constant and oppressive darkness, when her stomach rumbled at the same moment the low ceiling began to slant upwards and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione realised they were in a large open space. She held up her wand and saw that there were piles of crates, boxes, jugs, and mystery objects scattered around the edges of the cavern. And - were those doors? Not quite. Open archways. It looked as though little rooms had been carved out of the walls around them - like spokes on a wheel.
Malfoy paused in the middle of the chamber and lit a flame - in a lovely and old-looking fire pit - with his wand. The glow was brighter than it should have been, bathing the room in magical light.
"What is this?" asked Ginny. "I thought-"
"Not your strong suit, Weasley." Malfoy was looking around too, though. Assessing. He doesn't know this place well. "Leave that to Granger and your boyfriend."
"He's not-"
"Some kind of storage room, is it?" interrupted Harry.
There really was a lot of stuff - much of which was covered in white sheets. Magicked, clearly, because it was all far less dusty than it should have been.
"It's a bunker," Hermione said.
"Five points for Gryffindor," muttered Malfoy. "I believe there are beds and loos in the side chambers. But I wouldn't venture far."
"Afraid you'll miss us?" asked Harry. He was surveying it all with intense interest, Ginny close to his side.
Malfoy strode to a particularly large pile and ripped the sheet off of it, revealing, through a surprisingly small swirl of dirt, a neatly stacked pile of cots and folding chairs. Pointing his wand at it, furniture flew through the air and unfolded around the fire. Three chairs. "You can stand, Potter."
Hermione flicked her own wand at the pile and a fourth chair joined the others. She collapsed into it. "Are we sleeping here?"
Malfoy sat down slowly opposite her, across the pit, the flames casting shadows over his cheeks and eyes. "I don't care where you sleep. But this is the last stop before the cave splinters into about twenty different branches. So if you want a drink" - he shot his wand over his shoulder, behind him, and a wine bottle came flying from a straw-filled crate, landing gently on the floor before him - "dinner" - another twist of the wand, and a picnic basket appeared from beneath a sheet and landed beside the wine - "or a nap" - a final dip of his wrist and a cot unfurled, close to the firepit - "I suggest you get it now." All done without him looking.
She would not show him that she was impressed. Stasis charms, surely. Strong ones given how everything he summoned looked as if it had been freshly prepared, ironed, or cleaned by house elves. And yet there was a little dust, which meant things had been waiting here for a time.
Ginny, never too proud to turn down a meal, stepped forward and flipped open the lid of the basket. "Cheeses, cans of pate, and tins of crackers. I expected better."
"Eat it or don't." Malfoy sounded bored.
Eat it they did. Ginny took the liberty of pulling the food out and passing it around to Harry and Hermione. Malfoy didn't take it from her, though he did reach forward at one point to grab a hunk of cheese, which he chewed thoughtfully. He did not drink, though he uncorked the wine with magic and handed it to Ginny. She sipped straight from the opening and passed it off to Hermione, who sipped against her better judgment. It's been a long day.
"Never figured you for a baby sitter," said Harry after a time.
Malfoy didn't answer, his eyes on the flames.
"To think we believed his only skill was being a prat," said Ginny. "Turns out he's a sherpa, carer, and maître d."
Hermione shot her a look from the corner of her eye. That was uncharacteristically mean. Ginny shrugged in a who-cares-we-hate-him way.
Malfoy rose, as if he hadn't heard them, and in a swirl of robes walked away into one of the smaller darkened rooms off the main cavern. There were no doors as far as Hermione could see, but he paused at the threshold before disappearing inside.
"Well done, I think we've lost him," said Harry. Ginny laughed.
"Are we all going to sleep at the same time?" Hermione squinted to make sure Malfoy was out of earshot. "I don't trust him." She glanced at her watch. Ron's hand was on Bed. Ginny's and Harry's were hovering between Work and Danger.
"We'd better," said Harry softly. "It's late, we're exhausted, and we need to be on our game tomorrow in case he can actually kick us out of here. It would be a pain to go get a warrant from the Ministry to come back. And the creature might escape before we return."
"If we sleep close together we should be fine," whispered Ginny.
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
Ginny snorted, her voice rising. "I didn't mean you. I meant me and Hermione. Though it's noted that you'd like to-"
Malfoy's boots tapped and all three of their heads jerked in his direction. He'd appeared silently from wherever he'd been. "Potter being between you two in bed is the first scene of every wet dream he's ever had. You all know it."
Ginny's hand flew to her mouth, gasping, at the same time Harry stood, stepping toward their antagonist. Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Malfoy laughed and sat down again in his chair. Unruffled.
She would give him the same.
"Harry, sit down. He's talking about his own dirty mind."
If she had hopes that he would take the bait, they were dashed. Instead Malfoy smiled broadly at her, showing the tiniest edge of his teeth for the first time. White, strong. Vicious. She quelled a shiver on her spine, as if a finger was slowly trailing up it.
Harry, seeming to realise that fighting with their host would get them nowhere, stated that he too was going to visit the loo, and went in the direction from whence Malfoy had come. They sat in silence for several minutes, Malfoy smirking to himself while Ginny and Hermione glared into the flames.
When Harry returned he looked a little pale and any lingering disgust with Malfoy seemed to have evaporated. "What the fuck is this place?"
"What do you mean?" Ginny sounded concerned.
"It's dark magic. Moving about - I can feel it. Tugging."
Hermione looked at Malfoy, who was now frowning at the fire. "Care to educate us on how you've warded this hidey-hole?"
He did not look at her and it was a moment before he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "I have warded nothing. As I said, this place is . . . old. From a time when magic was different. I would be respectful of it if I were you."
Harry, still looking vaguely queasy, changed the subject. He began quizzing Malfoy about the lands, its history, and known magical creatures in the area. Malfoy replied unhelpfully with responses which ranged from "I don't know" to "no" to silence.
And so it was that they sat around the fire for several hours with Draco Malfoy, nibbling on cheese and sipping wine. Harry eventually grew tired of trying to pry information from their reluctant host, and Ginny and Hermione chatted softly about times they had been camping in their lives. Neutral. Non-confidential. Hermione avoided mention of the year she and Harry and Ron camped while looking for horcruxes. Thankfully she had enough other trips to fill the space between silences.
Finally she felt her eyelids drooping. The flames crackled pleasantly. Ginny yawned and stretched and then stood. "Hermione, will you go with me to the loo before bed?"
Hermione stood, grabbed pajama bottoms from her knapsack, and followed her into the closest side chamber. At the threshold of the open archway she sensed a wave of - what was it? There was nothing visible, but she reached her hand out instinctively to feel for it. Ginny made a sound like a retch. But then they were through and in a little room containing a roughly hewn wooden table and unlit torches on the walls. The bed was set into the wall, in an alcove carved into the rock. At the back of the room was a heavy door on iron hinges, and inside was a simple bathing room with an antique tub and basin and loo. Hermione waited outside for Ginny and her turn. While she waited she had a moment to better examine and feel the room. It appeared the rock had been carved away to create the small space. Hermione didn't like being in it. She understood Harry now - the room seemed to want her out. The air fairly pulsed with magic and rejection. She felt it, thick in her lungs and down her back. Leave. Were all the rooms around the larger chamber like this? As soon as Ginny was finished she hurried into the bathroom, relieved herself and changed and splashed water on her face, and rushed out. They returned to the fire.
Harry or Malfoy had replaced the chairs with the low camping cots, and each was covered with a plain woollen blanket. Malfoy was already laying on his back, his eyes staring up into the dark above. He'd removed his robes, folded them neatly, and used them as a pillow. Harry was sitting on the edge of his own bunk, waiting for them.
"Let's get some rest." He gestured at the cot closest to his. "Gin, you okay?"
"I'm fine," she snapped. Harry, ignoring her, lay down, back to them. Hermione resisted the urge to mediate. Not in front of Malfoy.
When they were all on their cots, waiting for sleep, Ginny finally voiced what Hermione had been wondering. "Who takes care of this place, Malfoy? The bathing room was old but clean. And these supplies are obviously being replenished. Someone must be down here with us, or have regular access."
Malfoy was stubbornly quiet.
"So you're not going to tell us anything about it?" asked Ginny.
Silence.
"Quit asking him," Hermione said. "He either doesn't know about his own family's estate or he does know and he wants us to be scared. He'd be out of here in a second if it wasn't completely safe."
"Are you this irritable because you're experiencing your monthly witch times . . . or because your boyfriend abandoned you on this trip to play nursemaid and cock block these two and their sexual tension?" He turned his head and looked at her across the low fire. His eyes were dark.
She squinted at him from where she lay curled on her side, shaking her head with faux pity. "Only a man who knows absolutely nothing about women would call menstruation 'witch times,'" she said. "And Ron is not my boyfriend."
"Ex, or do you have an engagement to announce?"
Harry started to speak but she held her hand up and he stopped. Leave him to me. "That's none of your business."
Malfoy twisted his smirk into a cruel smile. "So, ex. And, probably not getting back together. You know it will never work between the two of you, long-term. In fact, I think you're quite single because you're a prudish know-it-all and you don't want to admit it." Hermione felt her face change against her will. She turned her head sharply to the side, away from the fire, so he couldn't see. But he laughed, cold and mean. "Or maybe you did admit it. That's your problem."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," she said softly. She took a steadying breath and blinked a few times, turning back to face him. "You could never comprehend the complexities of people who care about each other but, as you said, will never work. Nor the ability to be content with the love of friends. Unfortunately for you, it's not me who has the real issues. I'd choose my current state over your problem any time."
She saw that he hesitated, knew that he wouldn't be able to help himself. Sure enough. "What problem?" He sounded hateful.
"Being completely, permanently, alone." She delivered it as quietly as she could. Her mother had told her once that the best way to get a child's attention during a temper tantrum was not to yell, nor to flail your arms and match their irrational intensity. It was to whisper. And sure enough, she saw Malfoy's nostrils flare and his jaw twitch.
"I have more experience than you'll ever have, Granger." He dropped his tone to match hers.
"Sure. And look what - and where -" She looked pointedly at the damp, dark cave around them, "it's gotten you."
He smiled then. "In the presence of Gryffindor's Princess" - a sneer - "and her motley band of fools."
She stared across at him for several heartbeats before answering softly. "Truly I can say I am exactly where I want to be, trying to do a little bit of good in this world. And I'm with people I love." To her side she heard Ginny inhale a satisfied breath. Hermione had nearly forgotten Harry and Ginny were there.
Malfoy's eyes flitted over her face for a few moments too long before he smirked again in that vile way. "I feel the same way."
She turned away from him, disgusted, and lay on the cot until sleep claimed her.