Hey everyone!
So I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter it always means a lot to me. Also, I've added this story to AO3 if anyone prefers to read it on that site instead. I do hope this chapter is to your liking.
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Much love 3
Hermione's Point of View.
Harry drags the chair out beside me causing me to jump.
"Sorry!" He cries, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder to relax me. "Why are you so jumpy?" he asks, putting his books on the table in front of him.
"And why are you in this section of the library? I almost didn't recognise you. You never sit over here?" He asks, opening up the charms assignment that's due last period today. I look around noticing that there aren't many other students on the second floor beside the temp librarian. I hadn't been as inconspicuous as I had wished.
"Hermione?" He asks, his voice is unsure. "You're being a little weird," he jokes.
"I'm hiding," I finally admit, smoothing out the ends of my school skirt.
"From who?" he asks shocked.
"Mostly Ginny," I confess with a small laugh, picking up my inkwell. I open a blank page in Harry's notebook and start writing out the key points of the assignment.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," he says but his voice gives him away. I smile and he snorts a little, embarrassed. We still play this game sometimes, the pleasantries and all. He pretends it's not the reason he has come looking for me in the library and I pretend it's a burden to help him with school work. We've been doing it for years now. But it is a part of us and our relationship.
"So why are you hiding from Ginny?" he asks, changing the subject. I copy some of the notes from my assignment, changing the wording so Professor Flitwick won't notice. Not that he would notice if every student handed in the exact same assignment; word for word.
"It's nothing really," I dismiss.
"Come on," Harry pushes. I sigh putting down the quill and turning towards him.
"It's just that she kind of keeps bugging me about the whole Malfoy thing. I mean I get it I just don't want to talk about it anymore," I confess.
I don't want to think about him anymore. Each time I do I get a strange discomfort in my stomach and I refuse to allow him to have any sort of power over me. When I went to Madame Pomfrey earlier she said the pain was nothing to worry about that cold and flu season was coming up. I didn't argue with her because I knew she wasn't going to give me anything that would actually help the situation. It was more of a cry for help if anything.
"Hermione you can't hide in the library forever. She will eventually find you," Harry laughs and I blush a little at his remark.
"I mean it's the first place I looked for you," he teases.
"I know I'm just hoping that she lets it go soon is all," I say.
"I can talk to her if you want?" He offers.
"No, honestly," I insist.
"I'm sure it'll be old news very soon," Harry assures me. "But I agree with you," he says nonchalantly.
I turn towards him, confused.
"What do you mean?"
"I know it was a great opportunity and it would have been amazing if Malfoy hadn't been chosen. But he was and unfortunately, we just have to let it go. Besides, I don't want you anywhere near him," Harry maintained.
I scoff a little taken back.
"Harry," I start, resting my hand on his arm. "I am a big girl now and I can take care of myself. I'm not scared of Malfoy," I finish. Harry sighs and turns towards his charms assignment.
"I'm not trying to belittle you. I know you can hold your own," he admits.
"It's just things are different now, especially after what we saw and Borgin and Burkes," he insinuates.
"We don't know what we saw," I chastise. "It's a big assumption,"
Harry shrugs.
"Is it such a big assumption though?" he pushes. The librarian walks passed and shushes Harry, frowning when she notices I'm responsible for talking too. Great.
"Keep your voice down," I whisper shoving his arm. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," I say handing him over the piece of parchment with his notes on it.
"His father is a Death eater it's only natural that he too would join," Harry mutters quietly but intently.
"I mean it was going to happen eventually," he adds.
"Harry," I say, my voice a plead for him to listen.
"He's only seventeen years old. What would you-know-who want with him?" I say dubiously. Harry laments loudly. I look at his face and notice the bags under his eyes and the fact that small lines are starting to form. He looks old, much older than seventeen. He turns and smiles at me reassuringly.
"I care about you, Hermione. I don't want to see anything happen to you. But you can be a little naïve sometimes," Harry says regretfully. He picks up his charms books and shoves them into the disaster that is his bag.
"He's not a good person. So if you are curious about what he saw in the Pensieve I think it's best if you just forget about it," Harry says. He picks up his bag and slings it over his left shoulder.
"I understand it's easier said than done."
"I'm not curious," I lie. Harry grins and tries to flatten down my hair on the top.
"When you're done hiding, Ron and I are going to go practice some quidditch at 2 if you want to come to watch," he offers, waving over his shoulder as he exits. The librarian passes again a look of relief on her face when she notices Harry is finally gone and her sanctuary is quiet again.
I pull out a letter from between the folds of my book and open it again, reading over it. It came in the post this morning. A letter from my parents detailing how happy they were that I had won some kind of reward. My mother had asked for details as Professor McGonagall hasn't given many details. I frown reading over it wishing Professor McGonagall hasn't sent any letter in the first place.
I take out a new piece of parchment and write a return letter to my parents. I drag it out mostly talking about school and how the trip to Hogsmeade is coming up soon, along with Slughorn's Christmas Party. When I'm almost running out of space at the end I dismiss the award and inform them it was only a small award for academics, assuring them that they hand them out every year to a student. I fold it up and seal it in a new envelope making a mental note to send it later when I'm in my room.
I turn and look out at the rain beating down outside the window. December has been particularly rough this year with more days of rain than anything else but it is to be expected. I watch the trees sway in the breeze outside thinking how the person who hates me most in the school knows more about me than I do.
Draco's Point of View
Blaise drops down in the couch beside me.
"Where have you been?" I question. I notice Pansy watching me from near the fireplace. The common room is unusually packed on a Thursday evening and the noise is starting to give me a headache. The noise and sounds like bleating sheep. Pansy draws a line down Nott's neck with her fingers and he leans into her. I roll my eyes in her direction. Better Nott than me.
"Tutoring first years," Blaise explains rolling up his shirt sleeves.
"Tutoring! You?" I reply smugly.
"See Malfoy you're not the only one playing a game in this school," he says arrogantly. He surveys the room, taking in the herd.
"Trying to keep up a certain image if you get what I mean," he says. "Less suspicious that way if you have a few ticks beside your name."
"You might want to give it a try," he says suggestingly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip.
"Might draw less attention to you. From the Professors I mean," he advises.
"Look," I start, turning towards him. "I don't give a fuck what they think or who is paying attention to me. Whatever you're hinting at just spit it out," I imply.
"Let's just say I'm not the only one being asked to report back on you," he reminds me glancing around the common room. I join him and notice between the twists and turns of movements there are a few quick glances towards us by a few students I wouldn't usually pay too much attention too. I rub my hand over the back of my neck in frustration.
"You don't need to worry about it, okay? I have a plan." I express.
I want to stand up and go to my dormitory but unfortunately, Blaise shares the same room so he would probably follow me. I want to yell at him and anyone else who wants to listen that it's not exactly a simple task I have been given. It's not like I can just nip it in the bud and run to catch the last ten minutes of potions afterwards. It takes careful planning and most of all courage.
I think of Granger hidden away somewhere else in this castle most likely cosying up to weasel and I push away the image of her lifeless corpse beside Dumbledores in my head. I can feel the blood start to run out of my face and down my neck. I lean forward to stop my head spinning. The whole Granger situation has made it hard to focus on my mission. If I could just deal with her first then maybe it would pacify some of my inner turmoil and I could finally get it over and done with. But I think of what comes after and the decisions I have to make. I imagine once it's done that things will move rather quickly and it will be goodbye Hogwarts. I will have to step into the path that my father has paved for me whether I am ready for it or not.
"You need to make some progress Malfoy. People have noticed," Blaise interjects my thoughts.
"I know what I'm doing," I snap back massaging my temples. Blaise pulls a small flask from his bag and hands it to me.
"You need to chill out man. Here," He says. "It's something a little stronger than pumpkin juice," he says smirking. I take it from him and unscrew the top gulping a mouthful down. The water immediately runs out of my eyes. It's a lot stronger than pumpkin juice.
Blaise motions to Nott's hand finding it's way around Pansy's back.
"Jealous?" he eyes me. I scoff, a bit of the alcohol dripping down my chin. I swipe it away off my cuff.
"Not in the slightest," I laugh.
"Think she'll take him to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" Blaise asks. But then he turns and eyes me with a superior expression.
"Oh, that's right," he laughs. "You didn't make the cut," he jokes.
"Shut it! I don't want to go to his stupid Christmas party," I say taking another long swing from the flask. It burns down my throat but the noise in the room seems to grow a little quieter and for once I'm glad for Blaise.
"The mudblood made the cut and you didn't. Bet you didn't see that in her future," he sneers stepping up from the couch.
"Yeah, and who are you going with? Goyle?" I mock. Blaise half-smiles down at me, his eyes light up.
"Astoria Greengrass," he winks. He picks up his bag and I hand him back his flask.
"Keep it, you need it more than me right now."
I take a deep swing as Blaise disappears up the winding stairs to the dormitories.
I groan in aggravation to which a few students notice. I hadn't taken into consideration that Slughorn's party was this Saturday. If I had any chance of keeping Granger alive I needed to warn her away from Weasel. My odds of betting on her already going with the weasel seem pretty high. There was no entertaining the notion of her first future. It was this or nothing and I'll be damned if she doesn't listen.
I grab the flask and shove it in the pocket of my robe and leave the common room.
Hermione's Point of View
Professor McGonagall stacks the papers on her desk and shoves them in the top drawer.
"Did you check the tutoring sign-in sheet?" She asks. I eye the page checking all the names, noticing some surprising ones.
"Anyone miss their sessions today?" She asks. I notice a blank space beside Padma.
"Padma missed hers today but I saw her earlier in the infirmary. She wasn't well yesterday either so," I confirm.
"The infirmary? Why were you there today? You feeling okay Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks with concern.
"Oh no, it was nothing, really. I just had a stomach ache. I'm fine now," I stammer. She eyes me suspiciously but buys my excuse.
"Okay Miss Granger I don't know about you but I'm done here. Are you okay to finish by yourself?" She inquires.
"Of course," I assure her with a smile. McGonagall smiles back and takes her leave, her desk cleaning itself as she exits.
I pin back up the tutoring sheet on the wall and make my way around the room blowing out the candles. The wind whistles through the cracks in the window frame and I stop and listen for a minute.
Abruptly the door scratches open, creaking loudly as it drags across the floor. To my disbelief Malfoy steps in. The rest of the candles along the right side of the room blow out with the breeze as he closes the door behind him. I'm half shrouded in darkness.
"Professor McGonagall just left," I inform him uneasily, wishing I hadn't started blowing out the candles. I step over to the other side of the classroom, into the light. He watches me with a heated expression.
"I was looking for you," he declares stepping away from the door and in front of McGonagall's desk. I step back.
"Why?" I ask trying to keep my voice even. My mouth suddenly seemed to lack any moisture. The satisfaction of the security I felt when Professor McGonagall was here is a distant memory as soon as he entered the room.
"I need you to do something for me," he says nonchalantly. I scoff a loud.
"You want me to do something for you," I say slowly making sure I heard him correctly. He nods.
I shake my head at him aghast. This is not what I imagined when he walked into the room.
"You're joking me, right?" I ask confused. "Why would I ever do anything for you?" I question him seriously.
"Because I have information that you want," he smirks stepping towards me again. Now there are only two desks between us and my legs refuse to move. Anxiety starts to tear at my heart. If I scream now I wonder would McGonagall still hear me or is she too far gone? But I don't. Something about the way he's looking at me makes me curious. But the fear is still there because the time has officially come when he has decided to use what he saw in the Pensieve against me. Like I knew deep down it would.
"Are you blackmailing me?" I ask, afraid of the answer.
"Not exactly," he smirks, taking a seat on top of the table.
"I have some information you want, right?" he asks, tilting his head at me. His eyes are slightly glassy and most of the colour in his face is lost here in the dark. He looks different, like something I remember Harry saying when we got off the train this year in September. He mentioned that Malfoy's expression seemed different, thinner almost. Lifeless. At the time I didn't pay much attention to it because of Harry's notions about Malfoy. Now I can properly see it when he's this close to me. He's the same but not exactly. There is something missing. Something gone.
"I don't know if it's worth it," I admit. Surely whatever he wants me to do for him is not worth whatever he knows about me.
"Oh, it's worth it," he laughs. "But you wouldn't want anyone else to hear about either, now would you?" He adds.
"So, this is blackmail," I realise. Malfoy laughs again maliciously but I can hear somewhere in his voice that if he didn't sneer so much it might actually be an endearing laugh.
"No. This is a deal," he interjects.
"You're familiar with the term, correct? You do something for me and in return, I'll let you ask me one question every week about what I saw in the Pensieve," he says.
"Every week? How long do I have to do this thing for you?" I ask. I see his jaw visible clench and when he goes running a hand through his hair a slight wind follows, carrying with it a smell of alcohol. He's been drinking. I step away from the table and get my bag.
"Where are you going?" He demands, grabbing my arm.
"Let go of me," I say pushing on his arm. He seethes but releases my arm. I pull on my sleeve where he's ruffled the material. He's close as he glares down at me and I can smell the alcohol more clearly now. He's lucky I don't report him.
"I don't care what you saw in the Pensieve or who you plan on telling, Malfoy. I just don't care enough," I admit. His face is inexplicable but I think I see a flash of momentary panic. He smirks.
"You may be able to lie to weasel and Potter but you can't bullshit me, Granger. I'm a Slytherin," he says.
"I know that you care," he adds. I push my tongue against my teeth trying to keep my expression neutral.
"How are you so sure I care?" I inquire confidently but his smile makes me nervous.
"Because you care what people think of you. You've always worried about their opinion otherwise you wouldn't try so hard to always be right. Heaven forbid you make a mistake or get an answer wrong. What would they say about you then?" he laughs.
"Oh, the mudblood really isn't that smart they'll say. What can she possibly offer the prodigy Potter now?" he admits. Malfoy has a way of holding his expression when he knows what he's going to say is going to hurt someone. I look away because I don't want to see. But it does hurt and he knows it. How can he look at me and know me like that? Really know me. Especially when this conversation is the most words we've ever spoken to each other consecutively.
"What is it that you want?" I finally ask, complaint. He sighs as his breath washes over me pushing the flyways past my ears.
"I need you to stay away from the weasel," he admits finally. I step back bumping into a table and what feels like bruising my hip. "Romantically," he adds, eyeing me.
"Ron!" I shout, confused. "You want me to stay away from one of my best friends. Why? What reason could you possibly have?" I exclaim.
"Besides there's nothing between Ron and me anyways," I divulge. Malfoy scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"God you really aren't as smart as you pretend to be," he says.
"What do you mean?" I ask questioningly.
"That oaf practically drools after you, Granger. I guess you just don't notice it," he says. I blush furiously and try to avert my eyes.
"I don't know what you mean," I stammer and Malfoy smirks in response clearly pleased with making me so uncomfortable.
"That is my offer," he declares, his tone final.
"I just told you there was nothing between Ron and I. So, deal. No big deal to me," I admit feeling a little dirty agreeing to something Malfoy has asked me to do.
"Good," Malfoy says. "Because I'll be watching, Granger," he adds smirking. I look at his plush, red lips as he speaks, marvel over his slim nose and high cheekbones. I think of how conventionally handsome Draco Malfoy is and I wonder who he will end up with. Perhaps another Slytherin; maybe Pansy. Or the really beautiful girl in 7th year. I wonder if the roles were reversed what I would see in his future.
I snap back, confused. Maybe I'm getting high off the alcohol fumes coming from him. He creases his eyebrows at me and I blush.
"I-I have to go," I say picking up my bag and pushing past him. When I get to the door Malfoy calls.
"Granger," he yells. I turn around on my heel. "First of all, let us keep this a secret between you and me," he warns. I nod. Not like I would want anyone finding out that Malfoy and I managed to talk in a room for 10 minutes without anyone getting hurt or seriously injured.
"and aren't you forgetting something?" he asks. The question makes my cheek flush red as it reminds me of my mother asking it before I would leave for primary school. She would lean her cheek down for a peck.
"Um," I stutter looking around the room. He rolls his eyes.
"Your question?" he asks. "One a week, remember?" He says. I look around the room and gather my thoughts. The breeze coming in the aperture of the door whistles between my legs making all the hairs stand up on my upper thigh. I had completely forgotten about it.
"Why do you want me to stay away from Ron?" I ask. He rolls his eyes in response.
"That's my business, Granger. Now ask me a question about your future," he demands. I stare at him waiting expectantly as he leans against the desk with his sleeves rolled up. I think of asking something else but I let it go.
"Is…Ginny there," I finally ask, clenching my jaw. He walks towards me and examines me with a curious and slightly confused expression. I look away not wanting to admit that I am afraid to know anything about my future all of a sudden. Terrified in fact and I think he might know it.
"Yeah," he starts still watching me curiously. "She's there with you." I nod slowly, smiling slightly trying to keep it together. Something about being under Malfoys scrutiny makes it harder to keep my emotions in check. He has a way of looking at people that puts them on edge; makes them doubt themselves.
"Okay," I reply. He looks me up and down with a conceited, knowing expression.
"Why that question?" he asks. I sigh and start to turn away but he grabs my arm, pulling me back around to face him.
"Hmm?" He asks. "Why not a different one?" he says eyeing me.
"I just wanted to know," I lie.
"Hmm I'm sure it was burning at the tip of your tongue," he teases. I pull my arm out of his grip roughly.
"Can you stop being so full of yourself for 5 seconds," I sneer back at him. He laughs out loud and it's a strange thing to watch. Draco Malfoy laughing without some tortured second year on the ground is a strange occurrence.
"I didn't realise you were so feisty," he smirks. I blush scarlet unsure of what way to take it. He slings the arm of his bag over his shoulder and heads towards the door, brushing past me. I lean away but his shoulder still manages to touch me.
"But remember," he says, laying his hand on top of my shoulder and squeezing enough to gather my full attention.
"You can't lie to me, Granger. I see right through you now," he says flashing me his infamous Malfoy half-smirk once more.
I think of Harry's warning in the library that I should stay away from Malfoy because he is dangerous. I reflect on the way it had made me feel to have Harry feel the need to protect me. That I was naïve and not able to handle myself.
I grab his hand and push it off my shoulder and it drops to his side.
"I see through you too," I reply smugly pushing past him. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I leave the room.
The scariest part had not been the conversation, the threats or even the proximity to Malfoy. The real fear stemmed from the look that crossed his face as I walked out the door. I could have imagined it as my body had been pumping with fear and adrenaline. But I don't think I could have really imagined that genuine smile.