Chapter 14

The False King

After the DA meeting, Hermione found Drogon waiting for her outside the Room of Requirement. His chest was puffed, shoulders broadly displayed. He didn't move a muscle as witches and wizards surged out the opening. The creature stayed as feet fell on either side on him but never bruised his body.

Ron spied him as him and Hermione lingered behind the group. He wiggled his finger at the cat, and after a welcoming blink, scratched Drogon behind his ears. "Who's a good boy, eh?"

Harry had detention. He rushed past them with a quick goodbye. Hermione waved after him.

Drogon pawed at Ron's hand when he tried to stop petting him. The red headed wizard chuckled. "Oi. Don't scratch me you bugger. I'll give you a pet."

He picked up the small cat, cradled him in his arms and joined Hermione by the wall. They leaned against it, facing each other as they both spoiled her cat endlessly, which explained his growing confidence and attitude. And Drogon loved the attention. He typically did not like being babied. Ron was the only one he let do it.

Hermione dug out one of the cat treats and offered it to her familiar. He snacked at it quietly. His soft hum as his teeth pierced the little soft treat was the only sound within the now abandoned corridor.

Her friend stayed notably quiet during the exchange, a non-Ron quality. She beheld him with pity. There were few things that made Ronald thoughtful. None were positive.

"Are you still nervous?" She asked with a sad curl of her lip.

"Blimey am I," he answered. "Harry says it's fine. I've got what it takes, but I don't believe him. I think he's just sayin' it so I don't feel bad."

Hermione considered it a moment. "He might be. But that doesn't make it not true. You made the team. Clearly, you have what it takes."

"I don't know, Mione."

"Well I do," she said firmly. "You're a Gryffindor Keeper. The Gryffindor Keeper. That's a noble position. You're going to protect us. Isn't that what you're good at? You protect Harry."

"That's different. He's a person. Not a bloody hoop with dozens of wizards trying to get to."

"I don't see much of a difference."

They fell back into a quiet lull as their attentions fixed back on Drogon. They hated to argue with the other. Hermione knew that Ron was important for Harry. Harry did a fair share of arguing these days that it was enough for the pair of them. They were the ones who had his back when he turned it on them.

Seemingly those days of his angry withdrawal were behind him. The DA made him more like she remembered of years past when it was fun to be his best friend, and not difficult. He was too moody to trust. One thing might send him back to his grief. It would take another miracle to save him from himself.

She sighed, sad with thoughts about her best friend. He almost sensed her thoughts.

"He wanted me to talk to you, you know," Ron said. "See if he'd done something to make you want to be friends with Malfoy."

Again. The wizards always focused on each other.

"No. He's not done anything."

Her hand rested against Ron's chest so that she could give Drogon his favorite kind of scratch on the neck. The back of her hand felt his pulse beat steady through his woven jumper.

"Have I done something then?" He asked.

"It's not got to do with either of you," she answered. "It's got to do with me."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "What about you?"

Even though he was her best friend, she wasn't sure he'd understand. A wizard and a witch thought different. She knew that Ron was loads different than she was. He saw things more white and black than she did. He was loyal to Harry, one hundred percent, no matter what. If Harry turned to the dark, Ron would be right there by his side.

Hermione wasn't so sure she could follow anyone so blindly. Was it a lapse of conviction? Was it the protection of her heart? What made her feel so different from them?

Part of her knew that answer would never come to light. She loved Harry. His life was the ultimate goal of the whole Order. No one compared to him.

It was her mission to save his life so that good might reign over the world once more. Whatever it took.

"I don't know, Ronald. It's just something about me."

He touched her hand gently and held it against his chest. "You can tell me. I won't freak out."

"What?" She breathed.

"Harry would. I know that. But not me. I trust you."

"Ron, I don't know what – "

They were suddenly ripped apart. Ron was pushed back against the wall while Hermione was pulled away the other way behind someone's back. She heard Drogon meowing and hissing on the other side.

Hermione was shocked. She held her arm where the powerful hand had pulled her flesh so hard that it hurt. "What the hell!"

"Stay back, pet."

The color drained from her face. Draco Malfoy was irate with his hands against Ron's shoulders. His face was an angry red, a color that did not look good on a Malfoy.

"What do you want, Malfoy!" Ron spat.

Malfoy growled loudly. "Making moves, huh? Weaslebee."

Hermione tried to step between them, but Malfoy was stronger and quicker. He swiped her back behind him.

"Malfoy. Please stop." She pleaded. "We were just talking."

All the while Drogon hissing and yowled, clawing at Ron's chest as he held him protectively close so Malfoy wouldn't hurt him. It fueled Malfoy's rage further.

He ripped the white cat from Ron's hold despite the loud protests and placed it in Hermione's arms. She cradled Drogon to her chest. He was still upset. He wiggled and sank his claws through her jumper.

Ron stood unafraid of Malfoy where he should have shook in his pants to know what kind of control that Malfoy exercised. When it came to her, his anger was profound. On the pitch, he nearly sent Higgs to hospital.

What would he do to an enemy?

"Please, don't hurt him," she said. "Let's just go."

Blinding burning anger lived inside his eyes. She met them straight on.

"Please, Draco. Please."

He'd come out of nowhere. She hadn't heard anyone in the corridor. They were so near the Gryffindor Tower. What was he doing there?

Draco Malfoy wore a dressed down leisure suit, all black, with a hairstyle reminiscent of his earlier days at Hogwarts where hair oil was his favorite beauty product. His hair was slicked back straight, almost wet looking. His flesh was pinker than normal. It had a lively hue that Malfoy's were not known for.

He shoved Ron against the wall hard then backed away, one hand gripped Hermione's arm as he pulled her along. She knew better than to look over her shoulder. A spell of unsavory intentions would find Ron if she did. Instead, she held onto Drogon and her tongue as they traversed the castle. Draco led down the halls, winding through corridor after corridor until they found a dark one somewhere in the castle. It smelled forgotten. Dank. Cold and moist.

Though she'd lost track of how many stairs and corridors they went through, he must have brought them to the dungeons. She knew the feeling anywhere. Suffocating enclosure. It was a tension at the back of the neck anytime she broke through the warmth of the rest of the castle and delved into the depths underground.

Draco's grip released her. He ran his fingers through his flat platinum locks.

She stood, unsure of what to say. It was the rule to avoid other wizards. But that meant Higgs. Not her friends. She'd not broken that term of agreement. It was her best friend with whom she spent time with all the time.

"Where have you been?" He finally asked after a full minute of fuming.

It broke through the stagnant air. A wretched stink of mildew and dust.

She bit her lip. "Out."

"Out," his voice coolly echoed. "With him?"

She knew who he meant. It was no leap to assume he meant Ronald since he'd only forcibly pulled them apart.

The rule of the game was to not let his temper get the best of him.

"Not solely, no. With our friends. A friendly gathering, if you will."

"I thought I told you to get out of Potter's secret club, Hermione. Do you know what Umbridge will do if she finds out?" He roared.

No wonder he brought them to an old, unused corridor. He didn't want anyone to hear them.

His fury was palpable through the air. She felt it all around her body, tightly trapping her in.

"Tell me what Potter's up to so I can protect you. Turn them all in and save yourself," he instructed with a firm tone. "Now."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He gritted his teeth. "Don't. Lie. To. Me."

Hermione bit her lip. She wouldn't – and couldn't if she liked her face the way it was – betray her friends. Not even for Draco. There was too much at stake. Her safety, for one. She needed to learn what Harry taught.

Soon enough, she'd be left without them and need it all the more.

Draco's storm grey eyes met hers in a hard collision. They fought against her will with all their might. He had to feel her refusal. He had to know it was the fight he wouldn't win. She would die for her friends. That's what he knew. He manipulated her loyalty and dedication to forge their friendship in the first place.

He stepped forward just as she stepped away. Only two steps left her backed up against the wall. She exhaled in discomfort with the cold leeched into her bones.

"If you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself," he spat. "You know I will."

Her voice was tiny and frail against his rage. "I wish you wouldn't."

Draco let out a growl loudest she'd ever heard. He threw a book down the empty hall. The thud echoed. And it masked the sound of his retreating steps.

Hermione fell to the dungeon floor with trembling breaths. She'd never seen him so angry. It pierced her dedication to Harry with a twist of guilt. Draco tried. He was there for her, and not anything else.

Desperation in his voice haunted her in the lonely walk back to Gryffindor Tower. She felt it rattled around her hollow ribcage. Each breath shallower than the last. A burning blur clouded her eyes.

Something motivated him. Draco was driven by some need, outside or internal, to protect her. Whatever it was that forced his hand was stronger than she had given credence.

It was time to notify the Order. She had a responsibility.

She gathered up as much strength as she could to compose a letter to the one man she thought might offer the best advice and wisdom. It was a long shot. If he told anyone else, the Order might overturn her convictions to nothing but a chorus of denial. Still, she had to try.

The final touch was the addressee on the outside of the letter. She wrote the name delicately. It gave her time to revoke its creation. She could toss it into the flame and burn up the evidence.

Gryffindor courage held out. She handed it to Ginny.

"Post this for me, Gin. Please."

The witch read the name. "Lupin? What are you writing him for?"

"Don't let anyone know you've seen this, Ginny. This letter doesn't exist. And it isn't mine," Hermione emphasized.

It alerted whatever concern her friend had. She kneeled down beside her in front of the Gryffindor Tower fireplace. Her hand rested against Hermione's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" She whispered.

Tears nearly dripped down her cheeks as she nodded. "Please. Keep this a secret."

Ginny nodded darkly. She slipped the letter into her jumper with a solemn bow.

"Thank you." Hermione mouthed.

With luck, there would be a reply to her letter in the post early in the morning or at the latest, the next day. She was anxious for that. She went to bed straight away to aid it coming sooner. Her head hit the pillow and not long after she found a sound sleep.

Draco Malfoy was talented in revenge. He found a way to stab it slowly through the heart and back out again. Her fists balled tight as Crabbe and Goyle ushered her toward him on the way to Astronomy, a class they shared. Astronomy was the class that she and Draco sat together, alone, in the back of the class. Most of the time they just wrote notes or rolled their eyes at something they both thought fantastical.

When she saw his smug, stupid face in the corridor, her eyes went red.

"You bloody prat!" She shrieked. In her hand was one of his mother's treats. She flicked it at his face.

He caught it with a sharp glare. The rest of the Slytherins backed away in shock. They knew just how easy it was to insult the wizard and how even easier it was to earn a curse from his wand. Goyle and Crabbe backed up with the rest of them while she got right in his face.

"You son of a bitch."

Draco sneered, "Something got your knickers in a twist, pet?"

It was that oh so subtle reminder that she had a place below him. She would not be curbed today. The strength of betrayal was deep enough in her heart to curse him on her own volition.

"You know damn well it does! You're torturing Ron."

"Oh, yes. Gryffindor's favorite red head. Weaselbee." A horrid, awful, Malfoy glint came to his eye as he grabbed her elbow and led her away from prying ears. "Your boyfriend is a lousy player. He shouldn't be allowed near a broomstick let alone on the House team."

She yanked her arm from his hold. "Stop it. I know you're doing this to punish me."

"He's brought it on himself. Your boyfriend."

Hermione put her hand against Malfoy's chest in defiance. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Good," he spat. "You just better keep it that way."

He started to walk away. She assumed that he expected her to follow in compliance. But he'd gone too far. Their terms were strict. The entire reason she agreed to becoming his pet in the first place.

"No," she retorted swiftly. "No."

The Slytherin's who had started to follow stepped back again as Draco Malfoy spun on toe and brought his face right next to hers with a sharp glare.

"No?" He repeated loudly.

"No," she echoed back in a quieter tone. "The terms of our agreement. You broke them. I'm not your pet any longer. Your rules on wizards don't apply to me anymore."

He clenched his jaw. If he had been angry before, fury was what he felt at that. The furrow of his brow was so tight that it had to hurt. "You so sure about that one, Granger?"

If there had not been an audience to their fight, she would have bet there would be more words from his lips. She, however, used the crowd to her advantage. Something she learned from her time in the ranks of Slytherin. It left her a prime opportunity to rip herself away without his outward wrath. Then she would fold herself into her friends and never be caught alone where he could wiggle his way back in.

The bastard didn't trust her and treated her like property. If he wanted her to be his friend, he had to learn limits. Actual boundaries. No one gave him boundaries since he did as he pleased.

Hermione stood firm through her desire to talk it out. She let her anger fill her up.

"I'll never be yours again," she whispered.

She stormed off to class without another word. Part of her was actually surprised that he hadn't chased after her. That hurt.

Hermione latched on to Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil (a true sign of how furious she was to forget just how much she disliked the two witches) and allowed them to fill her ear with nonsense at their table. She avoided Draco's stare. It climbed over her flesh. Her body knew his gaze out of a crowd and this one was intense. She tried to pretend not to notice the attempts he made to try to win her attention with a shower of snow flurries over her head and whipping paper birds past her ears. No, she stayed at full attention elsewhere.

The mad dash out of the class was more of a challenge. She had to nimbly descend the winding staircase to avoid his quick steps after her. More than once she felt his heat on her back, as if he was close.

She pushed through her classmates and off deep into the castle. It was the last class of the day. That left open time to head to the library.

Though, that would be the first place he'd look.

Hermione was furious that she was pushed out of her favorite place by the bloody wanker. It was not defeat, but she marched to Gryffindor Tower and stayed there. She stayed in for supper. She stayed in all night. It was the little protection she had.

Of course, the dreaded day dawned all too soon. The Quidditch match with Slytherin and the start of her patrol week. She had lost track of whom she would patrol with again since they all switched like crazy. Ron did not want to patrol on the week of the match. Shocking. So it was left to the hands of fate.

The entire student body of Slytherin house wore tacky green badges with 'Weasley is our King'. It was an odd statement. They wore them proudly. A tease on Ron all day. She hated them.

To her, it was not a mystery as to who was behind the damn attempt to wreck Ron's concentration. There was only one wizard on a quest to destroy Ron Weasley so bad. That was Draco Malfoy, the last person on Earth she wanted to remember.

Merlin, she wanted to scream. That oaf was so self-absorbed. And bloody possessive. It was like he didn't trust her not to snog every wizard she met.

That was just stupid. She did not want to snog Ronald Weasley. He was her friend. Best friend.

"You look ready to kill somebody, Mione." Ginny pulled her bright red and gold knitted hat over top her straight red hair.

Hermione growled. "I am."

"Look on the bright side." The witch grinned. "The miserable sod might fall off his broom and pull a groin muscle."

As comforting as it was to picture, it did not make her feel better. It made her worried, though she would never admit that's what it was. She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

"It won't happen twice. I'm not that lucky."

"Gah. He really did a number on you. I hope he actually falls and busts his head for that."

"He went too far, you know." Her hands were fists as they marched out to the Pitch. The boys were already down, ready with the team in their matching uniforms of burgundy. "Ronald and I are only friends. Only have been. Just friends. Friends. Friends!"

"Just friends. I got it," Ginny exclaimed.

It was warmer out. A bit of a blessing for those who were stuck in the stands. Hermione was bundled in a scarf beneath her black jumper and under the Weasley Gryffindor hat similar to Ginny's. The sun peeked through fluffy white clouds. A gentle breeze pushed through every so often, but only in a fragile vengeance.

Her fingers were stiff even in the thick embrace of her mittens.

"He better not try to talk to me," Hermione rattled out. "I swear to Godric, Merlin, and Joseph, I will hex him all the way to the Chamber of Secrets if he thinks he can just apologize to talk to me."

"Keep it down, would you? People are starting to look."

She hugged herself tighter. "Do you think he'll apologize?"

The witch shrugged. "How should I know? You just said you didn't want him to."

"But I do," she said. "I do."

She watched Gryffindor win the match. It was eventful, albeit not as eventful as the brawl that happened when George and Harry attacked Draco. She was mortified. Umbridge came and ripped all of Harry and George and Fred's privileges away from them. That meant no Quidditch.

Hermione was furious. She never felt so mad.

It was like the time when she was eleven. An old man at a local convenience shop poked fun at her front teeth. Her magic was almost visible. It filled her up. It wanted release. The first thing she would look at would fly in his direction. Then another. Soon she would be surrounded by an entire room of levitating objects flittering themselves about.

Of course, it was no good that Hagrid returned at the start of her weekly patrol. She had to track down a Hufflepuff named Susan Bones and ask her to switch. The witch agreed because she was a Hufflepuff and more than happy to help so Hermione was free to sneak out with her boys down to Hagrid's cottage.

It balanced things out. She was haunted by Hagrid's news, as she expected she would be with Death Eaters winning so much support by their violent tactics, but it felt back at home with Harry and Ron again. She felt settled.

So much time with Draco and the Slytherins made the previous years feel as though something had changed with Cedric Diggory's death. That she was meant to be protected by enemies, not her friends. Somehow she'd gotten Draco's silly obsession stuck beneath her skin so deep that she hadn't wanted to pull his splinter out.

Hagrid reminded her of the world outside. The atmosphere was dense and troubling. Danger lurked in every space, even comfortable ones.

Hermione lingered closer to Harry and Ron that night as they sneaked back into the castle. She held their hands, happy to be rooted to her best friends, reminded of just how much they were meant to be together.

That didn't last. It was a momentary feeling that did not last.

Her heart burned when she had to see him again. The wizard. He had the gall to look at her! Look at her! Over a breakfast table. The nerve of him. That bastard!

She stomped through the castle with little patience for anything. Ron's eyes went wide, and he steered clear when he saw her. He pulled on Harry's shoulder, too.

"You don't want any part of that, mate. Trust me," Ron mumbled.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I've got a sister and a mum," he said lowly. "When they look like that, it is not the time to be in their sights. They'll eat your heart out. Just let her go and fizzle out on her own."

Hermione saw the exchange and glared, very openly, at the pair stumbling out of her way. She hadn't the time. The time nor the energy to complain about their untucked ties and wrinkled shirts or the mess of papers stuck between their books. If she started, there would be no stop.

Every class Harry and Ron made sure to talk quietly to not interrupt her thoughts and offered her the first choice at lunch. It appeased her well enough. She didn't snap. But her anger was very obvious.

"Say, Hermione. Is something on your mind?" Harry asked. "You seem a bit…"

Ron couldn't hand over the sugar fast enough. He whimpered softly when Harry didn't finish his sentence.

"A bit what?" she snapped.

"Tense," Harry answered.

Her eyes flared. "I am tense. Harry James Potter. Look at what's going on. Umbridge. The news that Hagrid gave. All these changes. Denial of You-Know-Who. Who wouldn't be tense in times like these? I've got O.W.L.'s to study for, something I notice you two haven't even started yet, and the rest of these bloody classes to worry about."

The wizards sat there with the widest, shocked eyes. A dumbfounded look on their faces.

She wanted to comfort it away and then slap them for their ignorance then cry for all the emotions onslaught on once.

It was what she deserved, for getting her hopes up about the future. For forgetting the nature of the world outside and letting a smidge of desire overcloud her better judgement. It was all her rightful reward for such romanticized hopes. She should ache. She should yearn. She should be disappointed.

A friendship with Draco was never to end up right. If you could call it friendship. Whatever it was, it was over and ended. Good riddance. She should have done it weeks ago. It was her own fault. She deserved the pain it brought.

Ron was quiet about what happened with Draco. He didn't ask.

Harry, on the other hand, made no effort to express himself when it came to Malfoy, which aided her emotions in reaching a crimson peak of anger.

"I don't know how you couldn't see it. He's evil. He's been so for years," Harry said. "The whole lot of them Slytherins are. Can't trust a one. Not one."

It hurt. The stinging in her eyes rose when she wanted to defend them. She didn't believe they were evil. In her time with them, she saw some tension and teasing, not different than what the twins did to young Gryffindors. Most of them were normal. Normal students with different interests than the rest; they kept to themselves. But overall, she wasn't scared of them. Only at first.

Now she wouldn't blink to be in their company.

She actually missed it.

"They treated Hermione alright, didn't they?"

It was so sweet of Ron to be supportive. In her darkest hours she needed that.

"Who's to say if that was real? He probably wanted information on me. You didn't tell him anything, right? You know just what he'll do with it. He'll turn us all in and have Umbridge expel us," Harry said.

She bristled. "Of course not! I would never. And shame on you for implying that I would."

Of all the stupidest things he's said!

Hermione gathered her belongings. The Great Hall was the last place she wanted to be.

"I've got to go," she mumbled as she threw her books into her bag.

Ron's brow fell. "Where you goin'?"

"To spend some time with the only person who isn't a blooming moron," she answered. "Myself."

She was one of the first to leave the meal. Each table was full of students. She ran into students still coming in rather than leaving. Their faces looked at her curiously as she marched away.

Lunch left the rest of the castle deserted. The corridors were empty, devoid of human or ghost. The echoing on the walls was just her own feet against stone as she walked.

The cold hadn't managed to puncture her yet with its frigid fingers. She only wore her white school shirt, tie, and a skirt with no leggings beneath. Not once had she shuttered. She'd forgotten all about cold with the writhing anger she had. It fed her warmth. It kept her distracted.

Why had he gone and done it? Why did he start after Ron? He knew she wouldn't stand for it. It was her best friend. She loved Ronald, very much, and couldn't stand the pain it put him in to be taunted relentless over something that made him anxious already.

If she was honest with herself, and Godric she hated doing that, she was disappointed in Draco. He'd betrayed her. That hurt the most.

They were something. Everyone saw it. They were something special, but a few things with Ronald and he threw it all away for a stupid Quidditch song which didn't even win him the match. She hoped that burned him like it did her.

What a waste.

She was climbing the staircase when a soft paw touched her shin. Down at her feet was the small soft kitten of solid white. His shiny blue eyes looked at her with their wide wonder. She felt the wisdom seep in from his beautiful gaze.

She bent over and scratched him behind the ear. "Hello Drogon. Out for a visit, are you?"

Her heart slowed as she petted the creature. It didn't stir. He let her cuddle and snuggle and scratch him whatever way she wanted.

Hermione smoothed her skirt and sat beside him on the stair. He looked at her with those knowing eyes.

"I don't know how it got all messed up," she whispered, half in thought. "It was all so perfect."

She sighed and rubbed her cheek against Drogon's. He pushed into it. It was nice for the returned affection for once. All too often she felt the only one who offered herself out for affection only to never get any in return.

A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye. "What am I going to do?"

The cat yowled a warning. Hermione pulled away. Drogon had his limits.

She wiped her cheeks with her palms. "Right. Sorry."

His eyes closed gently, an almost smile appeared on his face. He pulled at his collar until a piece of parchment stuck out the edge.

"Hang on. What's this?"

She gasped when she read it. It was a note from Draco.

You'll always be mine.

The idea to crinkle it up, rip it to shreds and send it back to him crossed her mind. It was the smallest amount of revenge she could muster without getting detention. But, her heart was against it. She couldn't bring herself to ruin the perfect way he wrote her name, all precise and even. Like he took time with it. Because she mattered.

It gave her a momentary lapse of judgement. The slightest.

She slipped a note back under Drogon's collar that was meant for him. The little cat waddled out of sight in the dark of the corridor with a faster pace than he typically walked. She was glad for the hustle. It gave him time to get away before she tried to wrestle the note away from him.

It was stupid. So, so stupid. Why had she written back to him?

Had she no backbone?!

Luckily class was about to start so she had to rush to that and forget all about the note. And forget she did. Her entire day was filled with class and studying and assignments with the two boys as they tried to catch up. She answered their questions, though with a less than patient attitude.

"You should know that by now, Ronald." She groaned.

They were hopeless! Neither would make intuitive leaps.

"Honestly. Don't you two ever listen? Flitwick said this word for word."

Harry's squinted through his glasses. "When?"

"Ages ago!" She answered, exasperated. "Don't you remember?"

"It's hopeless. I'm never going to get this right," Ron murmured bent over his roll of parchment, palm against his forehead.

She was beginning to feel the same way.

Hermione fell face first into bed. It was before curfew, but she was too exhausted to stay awake another minute. Her curls exploded in a mess around her head as she just laid there. Breathing. It was all she wanted to do.

The rest of her dorm mates were in the common room. It left the room entirely empty and perfect.

She wanted to sip a hot cup of tea with Bleak House in her hand and drift asleep between pages.

Drogon suddenly appeared at the edge of her bed. She dropped her book.

"Oh. Drogon. You scared me," she said.

She was glad she hadn't dropped her tea. That would have been a blistery mistake.

He had another note. His tail pulled at the taut collar at his neck until the parchment fell out.

Finally, some answers she needed. She opened the note quickly.

However, it gave little what she hoped for as was Draco Malfoy's way.

Stop avoiding me and I'll tell you myself. Scared of me, Granger?

"I asked him why he bullied Ron and this is his reply. Can you believe that?" She showed the parchment to the cat. He appraised it closely.

Scared of him? Of course, she was scared! She was terrified of what she might do in his presence. Her fury was not subsided, but neither was the yearning, longing, total regret that she held in her heart for the wizard. She liked the routine she made with Draco. He'd loosened up his rules yet still watched over her carefully.

Now look at what had happened. Malfoy enticed Harry and George to a fight. They were lucky to be only banned from Quidditch and not expelled.

Hermione wrote her reply simply. Honoring curfew is not avoidance.

The emotions of her heart kept her primed for Drogon's return. In his absence, Gryffindor Tower tucked in for a night's sleep. All the witches of Hermione's dormitory readied themselves with face masks of green and mask and laid their heads against pillows.

Lavender snored within three minutes of falling asleep. Her best friend, Pavarti, was still awake.

"I told her she snores." The witch shook her head. "She doesn't believe me."

Pavarti swung a silencing ward overtop of Lavender's bed so the rest of them might get some sleep. Hermione counted the minutes as they dragged on while her other roommates read books or filed their nails. It took forever. She was about to sip a Sleeping Draught into Romilda's tea when the witch finally rolled over to her stomach and stopped moving.

She sighed in relief when the little creature turned the knob of the door, rode the door as it creaked open and hopped down from the brass handle. His tail flicked the door shut.

Then meet me by Boris the Bewildered if you're not avoiding me.

She hastily wrote her reply. Her need to know why was stronger than the desire to see his arrogant face.

No. I want answers. Why did you do it?

The reply was almost instantaneous from Drogon. Her eyebrows raised as he approached her.

"So soon?" She muttered. "If I didn't know better, he was right outside."

Drogon tilted his head. His eyes were wide and brilliant blue.

"I know. I know." She covered her eyes and held her face gently. "I'm sorry. I can't help it. Your loyalties are a mystery to me. He bought you. How can I trust that you're not spying on me for him?"

He chirped in his high-pitched tone. The cat sat. The slender white tail wrapped around his body and moved with the slightest vibration. His eyes remained steady with hers.

"You brought me the jumper, remember?"

Drogon let out a warning yowl.

"I know you peed on it after the Quidditch game. That's not the point."

There were gentle sleeping sighs from her roommates as they turned in their beds, stirred by the conversation between Hermione and her familiar. She'd forgotten to cast a silencing ward around her bed. Her face instantly fell. What if someone had heard?

She quickly assembled her ward around the pair of them. Her cat was not the least bit bothered. He was not afraid to meow and hiss when he wanted. It was so rare that it was definitely noticeable when he made any noise, let alone a loud one.

Drogon arched his neck forward where a corner of aged parchment stuck. Neatly folded.

Compromise means that we both get what we want. I'll give your answers. You come out of hiding to get them face to face. You can't hide from me forever.

She hated it. She hated it as she stuffed her toes into warm socks. She hated the woolen jumper as it itched her neck. She especially hated the chill that came from the empty corridors of the castle.

It was past curfew. Black swallowed up everything. The occasional torch against the walls did little to illuminate all shadows.

Hermione kept her wand at the ready as she hugged herself.

Drogon led the way. He'd read the note and knew where they were expected. He looked down every corridor they crossed; entirely sure they were not about to be caught out after curfew before he continued.

It was sweet when he turned around. He would watch her walk a minute before he started leading once more.

Then he stopped. His ears twisted forward. The blazing height of his attention was his tell that someone was there. It was not a question. They were both too attune to the presence of the other to not recognize the feel as they drew near.

"Finally got the Gryffindor Princess out her precious golden tower," he said bitterly.

"I'm here." She stopped. Her arms crossed her chest. "Tell me why."

He scoffed. "That's it? That's all I get? Do you forget who I am, pet? Do you forget the nature of this arrangement?"

The strong scent of his cologne invaded her senses. It made impurity a forefront. She struggled against the allure with the anger.

Think of Ron. Think of George and Harry and Fred.

Her face burned bright. "Did you?!"

The power in her voice was surprising. She couldn't remember the last time she spoke that loud.

Draco remained intense as he watched with narrowed eyes.

"What you did to Ron was unforgivable," she uttered. "Harry and the twins, too. You had to go and screw it up! And I don't even understand why. Things were going just fine. Great, even. And then you started those awful rumors! Those taunts. Godric I can't even look at your face, Draco."

Her fury fed his.

"I'm not the one parading around the castle with that pathetic excuse of a wizard, Weasley. I had to watch as you touched him, embraced him, in front of everyone. Me included!" His voice was wild with anger, as were his eyes. They were filled with his overflowed venom. "Then I find you two, off on your own. For Salazar sakes! Do you think I like the idea of you two off on your own little Potter group doing Merlin knows what with all your little friends? The wizard is going to get ideas. Ideas that he is damn wrong about, I'll have you know. Damn wrong."

Hermione trembled from anger. "You had no right."

Somehow, her statement amused him. He started to chuckle which only made her feel worse. She was tense and full of that brimming fury over his actions.

"No right," he repeated with a sneer. "I have the only right. You are my pet."

"So, you thought instead of talking to me or just telling him to not look down my shirt, you had the entire school singing that horrible song and bullying him?" It was meant to be sarcastic. Her tone was clearly implied.

Draco went rigid. "That Weasel's looked down your shirt?"

Then he went a shade of rage she never saw before. It was all his angriest expressions and actions all pressed into one. Every knuckle of his hand cracked from the strong grip of his fist. His teeth grinded so loud it produced an echo within the corridor.

"No. He didn't. It's an expression," she answered, exhausted from all the shouting.

Things with Draco were straining. A mental strain. One minute things were great, then perfect, then depressing and scary, then utterly awful. He made things more difficult. It was his own stubborn nature that did it. Hers didn't do them any favors either.

It was silent for the first time since she arrived. Draco kept his anger bottle up, perhaps reflecting on the emotions or his next move in the ultimate game.

She knew that's all it was. He lost control at times, but there was ulterior motive. Something he refused to permit her to see. The letter from his mother and his refusal to even gloat about their distaste of her. It made things confused in her mind.

Added atop those concerns were the livelihood of her friends as inconsequential as it was. Given the state of the world, school concerns seemed so small. But Harry's life was the focus of the efforts of many. He mattered. Things at Hogwarts that concerned him, mattered.

She exhaled deeply. Her hands touched her forehead. Everything was so jumbled up in it. Maybe if she shook it violently all her thoughts would fall into their correct places and let her proceed with certainty.

"I don't want you around him anymore," he mumbled.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I won't agree to that."

"You have to. You're my pet."

"Only if it's my way too!" Her foot stomped against the floor. "I won't give up Ron."

A roar rumbled at the back of his throat. "No Weasley."

"No!"

Soon enough, their voices were loud enough to rip through the castle, disturbing the occupants within numerous portraits and wandering ghosts. Not to mention the patrollers of the halls. Hurried steps hit their eyes rather quickly. They shared a moment of concern.

They couldn't be caught out past curfew. Neither McGonagall nor Snape would allow them to forget their disappointment in the rule breaking of their two most highest held students. Draco, less so, but he was a Slytherin Prefect. They revoked points for rule breakers all the time. How could they patrol halls if they were the ones being caught out of bed?

Drogon clawed at her leg furiously. Time to go.

"Come on," Draco motioned to go behind the portrait into the loo.

She hesitated. There was only one thing worse than being caught out past curfew with a wizard: it was being caught out past curfew with a wizard in a private room.

He glared with a piercing gaze that warned of his disapproval of her distrust. His hands just about pulled her off her feet through the door.

They stayed perched against the door to listen as the monitor crossed the portrait. It was difficult to guess who it was that was on patrol. She thought it might be Ernie MacMillian and perhaps Pansy Parkinson. The thought made her cringe.

Breath refused to leave their lungs until they heard the steps retreat out of earshot.

It was the closest Hermione had been to Draco in over a week. She felt the heat that radiated off his chest. It warmed her cold cheek. His breath, too, she felt against her face, warming whatever flesh it touched. It was a welcome sensation.

The time apart left certain holes within her life that she noticed more clearly since he had filled them. Draco was the one bit of intimacy in her life. Their time together marked private moments that were firsts in her mind, to be there forever. Nothing that was shared with Harry or Ron. Her own slice of Hogwarts that was not theirs.

She almost whimpered when she pulled away from the door, and thus, his warmth.

"Promise me," Draco muttered.

Hermione shrugged. "Pardon?"

"Promise me that you will not be alone with him anymore."

"Ronald and I are just friends, Draco."

"Promise. Promise me that he is not and will not be your boyfriend. You won't be alone together. You won't be disappearing off for hours alone leaving me to wonder where you are."

It was not right. He had no power to make demands like that.

She raised her finger, weaker in her conviction when she felt the urge, the blinding need to crack under his pressure. "You broke the agreement."

"So did you."

The look in his grey eyes overpowered her resolve. She hated their separation. She missed the Slytherins, and Crabbe and Goyle's grumpy faces as they followed her around the castle. The way Draco always kept her by his side and pretended to dislike her when she knew he did.

But Ron. Harry….

What he'd done was so horrible and he'd done it to hurt her. He was angry. He lashed out without even asking. That was perhaps what hurt worst; he didn't trust her. It was all an arrangement to him. His pet game, nothing more. She meant nothing but a thing to control to his pleasure.

A stray tear ran down her cheek. She swiped it away. "Fine. I promise."