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Fun & Games	By : Nocturne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10629 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor I do make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Fun & Games
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
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“Am I evil?” asked Draco, folding his hands behind his head as he stretched on the leather loveseat in the Slytherin Common Room.

Blaise took the armchair. “Yes.”

Draco smiled, quite proud of himself. “Did you see the look on her face? Priceless!”

“You might want to watch your back,” interjected Pansy, squeezing in at the foot of the armchair. “That Mudblood had murder in her eyes.”

“Really? From my vantage point it looked like mashed potatoes,” laughed the culprit.

His friends couldn’t help but join in a little. Even Nott, who was otherwise removed from all the teasing and tormenting, cracked a smile.

“How did you get Chris to help you anyway?” inquired Pansy, too nosy for her own good. “Everyone knows he fancies her.”

Draco shrugged. “We had a score to settle,” he said, keeping it vague. “Turns out he doesn’t fancy her as much as he thought.”

“Neither does Weasley,” added Blaise. “I caught him laughing just as much as the rest of us.”

“She did cheat on him,” Pansy said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“We don’t know for sure,” inserted Nott, though he probably didn’t care either way.

Draco ignored them, already planning his next attack. “How long do you think it would take for Granger to remove Hippogriff dung from her mane?”

Blaise rolled his eyes, whilst Nott retreated to his Potions assignment. Pansy was the only one who seemed to care.

“Depends,” she said. “Is it fresh?”

“Hmm,” contemplated the young man. “That can be arranged…”

“You know I can’t turn a blind eye to all your stunts,” said Blaise. “The professors are already suspicious.”

Draco brushed the warning aside. “Don’t worry. It’s all fun and games.”

“For you,” said Nott. “Pansy’s right. Granger is out for blood.”

He grimaced. “You lot are really killing my mood.”

“Maybe it’s time to grow up,” suggested Blaise. “It’s a little beneath you to pull such pranks, as a seventh year and all.”

Draco knew his friend had a point, but teasing Granger gave him an almost euphoric feeling. It was like getting high without doing drugs. But the fact that he was already on probation did stir up some concern. Perhaps toning it down wouldn’t be such a bad idea. At least for a little while.

“What’s that?” asked Pansy, pointing to the fireplace.

All three boys shifted their attention to area in question and saw a jumpy owl that looked like a rat with wings swoop in and crash into the nearest sofa. Given that the Slytherin Common Room was located in the dungeons, there were no windows, which meant owl post arrived through the fireplace. Nevertheless, Draco had seen that owl before. It was Weasel’s owl. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” Pansy gingerly got up from her spot and retrieved a folded piece of parchment from the owl’s clutches, giving it a good shoo and waiting until the rat-like bird crashed its way back up the fireplace. She gave one look at the parchment before glancing at Draco. “It’s for you.”

Somehow he had suspected as much. The young man held out his wand in one hand and the letter in the other, performing some spells to ensure it wasn’t cursed or hexed. After several moments of this, Draco had no choice. He cautiously unfolded the parchment and read, knowing all eyes were on him.

Restricted Section. Midnight.
- RW
Quite curious indeed. Draco pocketed the note.

“What is it?” asked Pansy, peering over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said, knowing better than to tell the school’s biggest gossip. “Just a warning from McGonagall to keep myself in line.”

“Odd that she should use Weasley’s owl to deliver the message,” Nott said knowingly, too clever for his own good. Blaise joined him in that assessment.

Draco, however, was left in complete silence, wondering what Weasel could possibly want from him in the Restricted Section…at midnight. It seemed like some sort of ruse, but an interesting one at that.

~

Hermione peeked her head into the Gryffindor Common Room, making sure it was relatively empty before going inside. The last thing she wanted was an audience. Merlin knew the girl had received enough attention to last the rest of the year. She quietly made her way to the rug in front of the fireplace and gave her wand a swift flick, immersing the room in a warm glow.

She held her hands to the fire and sighed, still cold from her bath.

“Hey.”

Her body turned rigid as she heard the voice, recognizing it immediately. It was too late to turn back. He’d already seen her. The young woman turned around and met eyes with her best friend, Harry Potter. He sat down, placing an arm around her shoulder without another word.

That was it. That was all she needed. Hermione tried to hold back, and she had for most of the day, but as she buried her head in Harry’s shoulder, the tears began to fall.

“He’ll pay for it on the Quidditch Pitch,” Harry assured her.

She knew he was right. There was no way Malfoy would survive the match, what with the stunt in pulled in Muggle Studies and then the mashed potatoes. He was a dead man.

“I just want this year to be over,” she said softly.

“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “It’s been tough for me as well, but talking helps.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you lately,” Hermione apologized. “I’ve just been so busy. It’s really doing my head in.”

“No worries,” smiled Harry. “Ginny has been great. We never really talked about much before, but lately it’s all we do.”

Hermione stifled a giggle. “Apparently it’s not all you do.”

Although she couldn’t see his face, she was sure Harry’s cheeks were tomato red by that point. “She told you, did she?”

“Don’t be cross with her. We’re girls. We tell each other everything.”

“I’m not angry,” he said quickly. “I just – I’ve been wondering…Did…Did she…Erm…”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Hermione interjected, sensing his train of thought. “I’m sure there’s more to come, so to speak.”

“Hermione!” he laughed.

She laughed back. “No pun intended!”

They stayed like this, chuckling together, for a few extra minutes before the inevitable happened.

“Have you spoken to Ron lately?” asked Hermione, curious about her ex-boyfriend’s well-being despite his attitude towards her.

Harry turned stiff for a moment. “Here and there.”

“And…?”

“He…He seems…all right.”

“Just all right?”

The Chosen One sighed, giving up on the act. “Fine. I’ll tell you the truth,” he said. “I’ve never seen Ron so angry and hurt in my life. He won’t speak a word to anyone, anyone that matters anyway, and today I caught him chatting up some Slytherin girl. It’s madness. I’m telling you.”

She had been worried something like this would happen. “He’s just acting out. He’ll get over it soon enough.”

“I hope,” Harry said, scrunching his mouth to the side in thought. “Not only for his sake, but for yours. Whatever happened between you two…it’s no reason for him to behave this way.”

Hermione admired her best friend’s decency. He really was quite sensible for a teenage boy. “Just be there for him when he needs you, because he will.”

Harry nodded. “I just hope it’s before he reaches rock bottom.” The young man sighed once again. “Or before the Quidditch match tomorrow…either would work…”

She smiled. “You’ll do fine. Gryffindor will win and we’ll all celebrate until sunrise. It’ll be just like old times.”

The look of pride on Harry’s face was enough to tell her he was in a better mood, but there was still some concern laced within his emerald eyes. “Speaking of Ron, have you seen him around? We were supposed to meet in the dormitory an hour ago to discuss some strategy for tomorrow, but he didn’t show up.”

“Hmm,” thought the Head Girl, trying to trace her steps. “No. I don’t think I’ve seen him since – since dinner.” She tried to block out the memory, having scrubbed her face clean for thirty minutes straight in the Prefects bathroom. “Have you asked Ginny, or perhaps Neville?”

Harry nodded. “Neither of them have seen him.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s fine,” she said truthfully. “Probably just moping about somewhere in the castle. You know how he gets.”

“Yeah, he does love to sulk.” Harry scratched the back of his head. “I guess I’ll head to bed,” he yawned. “Shall I escort you to your dormitory?”

Hermione smiled, linking their arms. “You shall.”

~

The corridors were dead silent. It was almost midnight, and most of the prefects had finished their rounds for the night, which meant the coast was clear. Draco hurried up the moving staircase, narrowly missing a fall to his death at least three times, and onto the seventh floor. It was safe to say he was on edge.

Nott and Pansy had been curious when he said he was leaving the dungeons so late into the night, but it was Blaise who proved to be the problem. Being Head Boy had really straightened him out. He gave Draco a list of reasons the administration would expel him should anyone find out he was roaming the corridors after hours, but the young man ignored his friend’s warnings. He wasn’t one to follow the rules. Never had been. Never would.

Nonetheless, he had to stay focused. Draco held his wand out as he reached the library, peering inside before taking his first step. It was deserted.

He continued past dozens and dozens of bookshelves until he reached no man’s land. It was gated and locked shut, labelled the Restricted Section for all to see and be warned. In his opinion it was quite a useless effort seeing as a first year had the magical capability of breaking in, but he supposed it was all in principle. Draco gave his wand a wave, muttering Alohomora under his breath and waiting until the lock clicked open before pressing on.

It was significantly colder than the rest of the library, and some of the books looked like they hadn’t been touched in hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. Hogwarts was that old.

He nearly reached for a first edition copy of a Dark Arts book he recognized from his father’s collection before there was a sound a few shelves down. Draco’s gaze shot forward and he whipped his wand out, taking one careful step after the other until he saw a tuft of ginger hair.

Weasley turned around, sizing him up with a determined look on his face.

“You came,” he said, sounding neither pleased nor surprised.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about?”

“I’ll tell you in due time,” Weasley assured him. “First, put your wand down. This isn’t that sort of meeting.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Fine,” said the blood traitor, holding his hands up in surrender. “If you’re that scared, keep it out.”

Bastard. Draco instantly pocketed his wand, feeling his blood boil. “What do you want?”

For a moment Weasley said nothing, as though he himself was contemplating the reason behind this strange meeting, but it didn’t last long. “I called you hear to ask for a favour.”

“A favour?” repeated Draco, sounding quite amused. “If it’s a spell that will change that hair colour – sorry, mate – I don’t think there’s a cure for that kind of curse.”

Weasley scowled. “Yeah? I bet you can give me a spell on how to transform into a ferret.”

All right. So he meant business. “Spit it out then,” said Draco.

“I…I’m sure you heard about what happened between me and Hermione.”

“She cheated on you.”

Weasley glanced away. “Something like that.”

“So? How does that involve me?”

“Well,” the redheaded reject took a few deep breaths. “I’d like to get even with her.”

Interesting. Very interesting. Draco released the strain in his features. “And you’re asking me for advice on how to do so?”

“Not quite.”

“What is it then?” asked the Slytherin, growing tired of the vague responses. “I don’t have all night.”

Weasley looked lost for words. “Ginny told me…you’re…well…something of a…ladies man.”

If they weren’t breaking a dozen school rules at that very moment, Draco would have burst out laughing. The look on Weasley’s face alone was enough to keep him chuckling until the end of term. “She did, did she?”

“None of that,” spat Weasel. “She’s my baby sister.”

“Go on then. With me being a ladies man and all…you’re really using up my time.”

He ignored Draco’s jab, looking as though he would get sick all over the floors in a matter of seconds. Whatever he wanted, it wasn’t easy for him to say, which only intrigued the Slytherin further.

Weasley cleared his throat. “Basically, you and I have never really had anything in common,” he said. “Until today.”

“And what would that be?”

“We want Hermione Granger to suffer.”

Draco had the stinking suspicion their conversation would involve Granger in some way or another. Everything was about her these days. Even so, it surprised him to think how fast her supposed lover had turned on her. Whatever she had done, it really did a number on Weasel.

The blood traitor continued. “And with you being…well…you…it only made sense for me to ask for your help.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“I want you to seduce her,” he said bluntly.

This time Draco couldn’t hold back. He fell to the floor, laughing hysterically for what seemed like ages until his abdomen grew too sore to continue. Blaise and Pansy would sure get a kick out of this. He couldn’t wait to go back to the dungeons and tell them all about his little meeting.

“You’re mental,” he smirked, turning to leave.

“Wait!” said Weasel, racing in front him and blocking the exit. “There – There’s something in it for you.”

“What could you possibly have to offer that I don’t already have?”

The redhead thought for a moment. “I – I’m a prefect. If you do me this favour, I can write up a report that works in your favour, and you might be set free from your probation. In fact, I can guarantee it.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Not good enough. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Hold on! I – I have something else,” he said, really testing Draco’s patience. Weasley reached into his pockets and pulled out some sort of glorified lighter. “You can have this, along with any three favours you should ask of me.”

The latter end of his offer seemed at least a little intriguing, but Draco had no idea what he was looking at. He took hold of the object and examined it. “What is it?”

“It’s a Deluminator,” he explained. “Dumbledore left it to me in his will.”

Draco paused. Was Weasel really offering him all he had left of the great Albus Dumbledore? It was ludicrous to think. He couldn’t begin to fathom the Gryffindor Keeper’s logic. “What does it do?”

“It removes light sources and restores them,” he said, sounding a little unimpressed himself.

“Fancy,” said Draco, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

“It can also transport you to…to where your most loved or treasured people reside.”

Draco eyed his adversary curiously. “And you’re giving it to me?”

“Only if you seduce Hermione.”

He rolled his eyes yet again. “Even if I were to seduce Granger, this Deluminator thing still isn’t enough. I’d be risking both my reputation and dignity so you, a person who means nothing to me, can settle some petty score.”

“That’s where the other three favours come into play,” explained Weasley. “I’ll do pretty much anything you ask, as long as it’s legal and won’t get me expelled from school.”

It still didn’t seem like enough. Draco had impeccable skill with the ladies, yes, but seducing the Gryffindor know-it-all herself would be no easy feat. She hated him just as much as he hated her. That in itself would be an enormous roadblock. Plus, he didn’t want to get Mudblood germs. Draco cringed just thinking about it.

“I don’t know, Weasel. Seems like you’re the only one benefiting from this arrangement.”

“What if I just so happen to let a few Slytherin Quaffles through the hoops tomorrow? It can be the first of the three favours.”

Draco shot him a glance. “I beg your pardon?”

Weasel sighed. “I – I can…go against my team…”

“You really want her to suffer, don’t you?”

He half-nodded. “Not so much suffer…just…I want someone to break her heart.”

The way she broke his, Draco thought to himself. It was starting to sound interesting, and he found himself contemplating whether or not he should get involved. Yes, he had promised himself he would tone it down, but perhaps he would stop completely after this. One last hoorah, so to speak.

“I can call in the other two favours at any time?”

“Any.”

Draco thought for a moment before pocketing the Deluminator. “Fine,” he said, knowing he would probably regret this in the morning. “But you still have to write that report.”

“I’ll do it.”

“And you can’t tell anyone about this,” he said sternly. “Not even Potter.”

“I won’t. My neck is on the line just as much as yours.”

He supposed Weasley had a point. “All right. I’m still not completely sure, but I’m leaning towards a yes.” Draco narrowed his eyes, feeling the wheels begin to turn. “I’ll give you my final answer tomorrow. Until then, this meeting never happened.”

“Of course,” agreed the blood traitor. “See on you the Pitch.”

“See you on the Pitch.” Draco waited until Weasley had left the library entirely before relaxing.

What a strange turn of events.

thanks for reading xo.
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Fun & Games