Monday morning, I returned to the Manor bright and early. This was no longer a case dumped on me by Harry and Ron; it was now a full-fledged opportunity to learn and support my cause at the Ministry.
With an extra pep of determination in my step, I mosied throughout the Manor, looking for Malfoy.
To my chagrin, he wasn't in the breakfast nook, kitchen, library, or anywhere I'd hoped to find him. Finally, I had one last place to look: his bedroom.
"Listen, Malfoy, we need to talk, properly," I started as I knocked on the door to his suite. "I need you to hear me out because I'm here to help you. We can help each other."
I waited for a moment, but when I heard nothing in response, I knocked louder.
"Godric, you better not be in there choking on your own fire whiskey vomit. This house doesn't need another–" I started to say 'dead body,' but thought better of it. "Come on, Malfoy, wake up!"
I knocked again, determination still running strong.
"The least you can do is tell me to fuck off."
I'd hardly finished the last syllable when Draco's voice interrupted, not from the other side of the door but from the hallway to my left.
"What the fuck are you doing, Granger?"
I jumped in surprise as I turned to face him. He was already dressed, impeccably suited as usual.
"Looking for you, where were you?" I demanded.
"Why does it matter? I'm here now," he scoffed. "What do you want?"
His disrespectful, mocking tone instantly set me off.
"What do I want?" Forget bound and determined; I was now cross and a little red in the cheeks. " Wow . I-I was here to try and help you , but—"
"How could you possibly help me?!" He scoffed mockingly, making my blood boil.
"I can see now I should not have come." I gritted out before I turned to exit at the opposite end of the hallway.
How could I have been daft enough to believe I could work with him or get him to see reason?
His hand wrapped around my arm, halting my escape as I reached the hidden doorway. He jilts me around to face him before releasing me so abruptly that I stumble backward into the door.
"Do NOT touch me, Malfoy!" I demand, my face and tone shifting to something fiery as I grip my wand.
He smirked, stepping closer, making the already narrow, dim hallway seem ten times smaller.
"How could you possibly help me, Granger?" He repeated incredulously. "Don't you know countless have tried and failed before you? What makes you think you're any better?"
"Do you have no regard for your own life and future?!"
"Don't act so self-righteous, like you're doing this for my benefit. We both know this is all about you and your precious department. My family's tragedy is your next accomplishment to display in your office." He spat indignantly, and his words struck home.
"Fine! Whatever, Malfoy!" I yelled, reaching for the door handle behind me. "We can both stand to benefit from figuring this out. However, we are clearly not meant to work together."
In one quick movement, I turn around and swing the door open; then, I'm out on the landing and racing back toward the drawing room fireplace.
He can fucking deal with the shit show coming his way when the auror department finds out about all of the evidence he's been hiding. He's made his bed; he can lie in it; I'm done.
"I'm sure Potter and Weasley are expecting your full report now that you've found the journals; wouldn't want to disappoint them." He remarks, following closely behind me.
"I haven't told them, Malfoy. I haven't told anyone about the journals, but now, I will."
"Why?"
"Because you're a foul, loathsome, lying git who wouldn't know a good thing if it struck him in the face!" I yell over my shoulder as I reach for a fist full of floo powder and step into the hearth.
His hand grips my wrist, keeping me from tossing the powder down—electricity and heat surge within me as white-hot anger courses through my veins.
"Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Them?" He demanded through clenched teeth. Seemingly not caring that either of us could have been splinched if I'd let the powder fall.
I stepped out of the fireplace, yanked my hand free, then safely discarded the powder behind me.
The green flames that soared up behind me forced me to take a deep breath in, and I took my time exhaling as they subsided.
Get it together, Hermione …you can't let this bastard get under your skin so easily.
"You know as well as I do the media circus that would ensue; you'd likely get dragged off to Azkaban, everyone would lose sight of what the real issue is here, and, honestly…I'll never again get an opportunity to solve this without all the red tape." I relented, truthfully, closing my eyes and letting my shoulders relax.
"What's your plan?"
My eyes spring open to meet his.
"Come again?"
"Your plan, Granger? What did you have in mind when you showed up here this morning?"
I blinked back my surprise, still believing I'd misheard him, before finally stuttering through a response.
"Well, I know the answer has to be somewhere in the journals. I only have a couple more weeks before the final report for this case is due, and the odds of me figuring this out without help are slim. So, I came here today to convince you to help me with this. You don't want my team or anyone to know about the curse or the journals, so you're the only one who can help."
I studied his face, looking for any sign of doubt, mockery, or mischief, but there was none. Just measured curiosity and consideration.
"Fine. What next?"
I perked back up then, recalling some of my excitement from this morning.
"Well, then… I have a lot of questions for you. And for once, I need you to be completely honest when answering." I pause for effect and flash him a stern look before continuing. "Then, we've got a lot of dusty journals to sort through and read."
Instead of answering, Malfoy turns as if to leave the room, then paces a figure eight back to where he started, staring down at his dragon-hide shoes as if they held all the answers.
"You're, honestly, willing to spend your days going through hundreds, maybe thousands of years of the insufferable, inane ramblings of my ancestors?"
"Well, when you put it that way, I think it will take more than days…I'll likely have to spend most evenings here. Unless you allow me to take some journals ho—"
"Absolutely not. You can sleep here for all I care, but you cannot take anything." He firmly remarked.
I looked around the room, imagining the thought. It honestly wasn't a terrible idea for me to stay here. The odds of me finally meeting Trixie would be phenomenally better. I'd have virtually uninhibited time to work on the case. And, aside from it being a bit creepy and Malfoy being here, the Manor would be a pretty cool place to crash. I've certainly stayed in worse locations on the run during the war or even on work trips...
"You do have a lot of extra beds…"
"Fuck." He muttered with an eye roll and a quick run of his fingers through his blonde hair.
"Just stating the obvious."
"Truly enlightening, Granger." He replied, unamused, as he looked at his watch. "I've got some business to attend to, so your questions will have to wait."
"Until when?!" I questioned; we were finally getting somewhere here…
"I won't be back until tomorrow evening."
"That's convenient." I huffed. "Perhaps you misunderstood what I meant when I said 'I need your help' with this.'"
He brushed past me then, grabbing a handful of floo powder.
"If I'm going to be stuck here reading nonsense for the rest of the month, I need to get my affairs in order. I have an international multi-conglomerate to run, Granger." He remarked cooly as he ducked into the fireplace.
"Fine. I'm going to get started then."
"By all means…" He drawled before disappearing into green flames.
xxx
After the longest and probably most productive conversation Malfoy and I had ever had, I went upstairs to the library. Fortunately, the door to the secret chamber was still propped open so I could investigate it further.
The chamber was narrow but long and went down three floors, maybe four; it was hard to tell from the top of the rickety spiral staircase.
I had several hours to kill, so I removed dust, created my list of Malfoys, and marked their journals as I went. I didn't read much, only opening the journals to determine names and dates.
By early evening, magic or no magic, I felt long overdue for a shower. I was hot, sticky, dusty, sweaty, and terribly hungry.
I stepped out of my new dungeon into the library proper, grabbed my stuff, and headed toward the exit. Every step of my pumps echoed off the wood floors and windows, making me feel inexplicably like I was causing an unwanted commotion, like annoyed eyes were on me, waiting for me to stop.
Unable to shake the feeling, I kicked my shoes off and tiptoed through the foyer and down the stairs.
The silence, I learned, wasn't any better; in fact, the hairs on the back of my neck rose along with goosebumps on my arms as I hurried through the empty Manor.
By the time I made it to the drawing room fireplace, I knew one thing for certain. Malfoy Manor was different at night, and it was different when I was alone.
For a brief moment, I was grateful Malfoy wouldn't be gone for long.