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The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82904 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Don't own any of the characters. Am not making a profit.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Despite the upset from earlier, Hermione couldn’t deny that the event was a success. As her father brought her through another turn on the dance floor, she wondered, briefly, how different things were going to be, particularly with regards to her newfound fortune. “I would like to help you pay off your mortgage,” she told her father. “Or maybe even buy you a new house altogether. I would offer you to come stay at the castle, but I’m not quite sure…”

Richard sighed. “Hermione, I don’t want your money. I don’t even know how you’re going to manage an entire castle by yourself,” he said. “I know you wish to help and would do so, but you should probably start thinking about how you’re going to take care of it all. A castle is a huge responsibility.”

“You don’t think I’m up for it?” she asked, frowning.

He gave her a soft smile. “Of course I do, princess,” he assured her. “I know that if anyone could do it, you could.” He glanced around at the dancers. Dipping his head closer to her, he said softly, “I don’t trust these people.”

She looked affronted as she glanced up at him. “Dad!” she hissed.

He shook his head swiftly. “I meant your boyfriend and his family, princess,” he rectified. “Particularly his father. Now, I don’t like to judge, you know this, but think about it. How much of this Manor have you managed to see? I know they are a magical family, but I’ve never seen a more secretive family.”

“They are an old line,” Hermione commented, not looking at her father.

“That’s not an excuse,” he argued. “The Weasleys are an old line, too, from what Arthur had told me, but have you ever been barred from any part of their house? I wouldn’t doubt it if Draco was only interested in you because of your newfound wealth.”

“He didn’t know I was Merlin’s descendant when we started dating,” the girl said, becoming agitated. “All he was interested in, all he’s ever been interested in, is being with me. Why is that so hard to believe? And you can’t just wander freely about their home because there are enchantments and so many other magical things throughout the Manor that could harm a person, particularly if that person isn’t of family blood. And before you go off about it, those enchantments have been there long before even Lucius’s father was ever even born, so they aren’t exactly something that could be lifted right away.”

“But that still doesn’t…” he paused and gave a sigh. “Look, all I’m asking is for you to be careful, sweetheart. That boy was so quick to put that ring on your finger and… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She smiled kindly at her father. “I won’t,” she assured him, touching his cheek. “The only reason we’re betrothed so soon is because Draco’s trying to protect me from all the men and boys who are the real dangers. Those who want me, not because they actually care about me, but because I am Merlin’s heiress. It’s an odd way of protecting me, sure, but I suppose in Draco’s circles, that’s how it’s done.”

“That’s how they stake their claim,” he agreed, lifting his brow as if she had made his point for him.

She sighed and shook her head. “Didn’t you give Mum a promise ring when you were dating? And did that, or did that not, get transferred to an engagement ring when you proposed? Even now, both of you wear wedding bands on your fingers.”

“That’s not…”

“It’s the same thing,” she interrupted. “From what Mrs. Malfoy had told me, back during the times of Draco’s grandfather, men had another way of branding a woman who they believed was theirs, even when they were simply courting.”

“Yeah? How was that?”

Hermione met her father’s eyes. “Once the man was certain that the woman he wanted also wanted him, he would impregnate her. Then, they would rush to marry to keep the child from being illegitimate.”

Mr. Granger frowned. “That’s barbaric.”

“I know,” she agreed. She shined her ring a bit. “Aren’t you glad Draco simply asked me to wear his ring?”

She gave him a small smile, but he didn’t really respond. Looking away from him, she couldn’t find it in her to really argue her point anymore.

After Draco had returned and informed them that Ron and Lavender had left, Mrs. Malfoy had volunteered to bring Hermione, Jean, and Ginny to the ladies’ room to freshen up. Well, to help clean Hermione’s face up so she couldn’t embarrass herself when Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape dropped the spells they had cast. Jean had apologized for her own rude, expressing how she had been anxious and nervous about being in a room full of people who could easily make her forget everything with a simple flick of their wand.

As if she was the only one to be nervous about this night, Hermione silently huffed. So far, both Malfoy parents had done their utmost best to try to make Jean and Richard feel as comfortable and safe as they could. They had spent the night before sleeping in a bed that doubled the size of the one they had at home. From what the Muggle born had been told, Mr. Malfoy had even offered to pour Richard a glass of brandy before bed and the two had spoken of so many things. How had Mr. Malfoy missed the chance to boast about his family holdings?

Hermione sighed. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered softly.

He pulled her closer in a hug. “I love you, too, sweetie,” he replied. “I just… You’re growing up so fast. All of your life, it has just been the three of us: The Three Muskateers. I… I don’t know where the time went.” She felt him pull away slightly to kiss her forehead. “I do want you to be happy, princess, but are you absolutely certain that he is The One?”

She looked away, allowing her eyes to fall on Draco as he danced with his mother. Something the boy had said must have been funny because Narcissa tipped her head back in laughter and popped him lightly on the arm. Draco gave his mother an indulgent smile as he twirled her on the dance floor.

A warm smile crept up on Hermione’s face as she answered, “I am. He makes me happy.”

The Muggle hung his head for a moment before pulling her in for another hug. “Then, so long as he makes you happy,” he said as he lifted her chin up to look at him, “I will do my best to tolerate him. Still unsure about his father though.”

She nodded. “So am I,” she admitted, widening her eyes comically.

They shared a look and smiled in amusement.

(II)(II)

“Miss Granger, would you indulge me with the next dance?” Lucius asked in his deep, seductive voice.

Hermione contemplated the man for a moment while cradling her glass of champagne. “For the papers, I assume?” she hazarded a guess.

He dipped his head. “Indeed,” he said, offering her his hand.

She took a final sip of her drink and placed the glass on a passing tray. Letting her hand fall delicately into his, she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. They paused for snapshots and remained silent at first, though Hermione had a feeling he was dying to speak.

“The banquet is turning out to be quite the success, Mr. Malfoy,” she commented, breaking the silence.

He gave her a slight nod. “That it is,” he agreed. “Though, I have to admit that it is mostly due to you, Miss Granger.”

She snorted. “Hardly,” she disagreed. “Mrs. Malfoy has worked wonders in the decorations and set up. Even the band is amazing. If anyone deserves any sort of recognition, it is her.”

“And she will receive it,” he assured her. He quirked a brow at her on that. “Tonight,” he informed her, “after all the photographers and guests have vacated.”

The Muggle born stifled a groan. “You won’t be having another after party, will you?” she surmised. “Are my parents staying the night? I’m sure you’ve come to the assumption by now that they don’t necessarily agree with the idea of… well, whatever it is you do during your after parties.”

He smirked. “Would you be interested in finding out? You are more than welcomed to join,” he offered.

Something about the way he had said it caught her off guard. She stared up at him. “I’m engaged to your son,” she pointed out.

He chuckled. “Your point?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Well, don’t you think such talk is a bit inappropriate?” she questioned him. “I highly doubt he would approve of it.”

“I didn’t say you had to participate,” he clarified. “Just merely offering you a way to slake your curiosity.”

“You’ve offered it to me before,” she reminded him.

Dipping his head, he turned her before pulling her back to him. “That I did, my pet,” he stated. “And I stand by it. If ever you should desire it, you are always welcomed.”

She almost pulled away from him, suddenly not feeling comfortable with the way the conversation was going. He must have sensed her discomfort, however, for he abruptly changed the subject, “Have you managed to overlook the account for your estate yet?”

“Remus only gave it to me today,” she admitted. “I’ll have to look it over once I get to school, though I’ve glanced at it briefly.”

“I am very proud of you for setting up the block,” he told her. “It was a very wise move on your part.”

“If someone comes with proof that they, too, are descended of Merlin, I will want to compensate them justly,” she said slowly. “It is only fair.”

He smiled. “Of course, my pet,” he cooed. “I doubt your Gryffindor sensibilities could handle anything less, though I wouldn’t wager on anyone stepping forward.”

“Why not?” she asked.

Lucius tilted his head, looking at her curiously. “Merlin’s heir will need to be of magical blood in order to gain anything and, unless your father is mistaken, you have no cousins and your mother can no longer conceive.”

She nodded. “He would be correct, but just because my family has no one else aside from me, doesn’t mean an heir is restricted simply to my own bloodline. You can easily trace my line to the Muggle British royalty if you go back far enough. In fact, I have no doubt that you have.”

“And yet you’ll gain no inheritance from that line,” he commented. “Why do you think that is, Miss Granger? It would, after all, be just for you to be compensated, wouldn’t it? It would only be fair.”

She frowned. “I see what you did there,” she said. “But this is different.”

“How so?”

“My family has been compensated for, Mr. Malfoy,” she told him. “When my ancestors married, they were given their proper dues. Over time, it was squandered away by later descendants. I can’t demand more money from the royal family.”

“Just like no one could demand money from you,” the Slytherin stated. “You were the one who came forward, my pet. I would severely question the validity of anyone else who attempted to do the same, and they will try.”

“And they’ll be asked to provide proof just like I had to,” she argued. “I am not a simpleton, Mr. Malfoy. My eyes are open to how the world works, especially after this couple of months with having to deal with the letters and demands.”

He smirked. “There is it,” he breathed. He turned her again and pulled her close to him. Resting his cheek against the side of her head, he muttered, “I do bask in the fire that you have, my pet. Such passion and desire.” He lifted his head and glanced down at her. “It really is a shame you won’t gift me with something a bit more… intimate, though I will say this much: in the next few months or so, at least until you and Draco marry, you will need that fire and passion to keep your head. You will be hounded by reporters: people wanting exclusives and a chance to take a picture with their new celebrity.”

There it was again. The seductive tone in his voice that rattled her brain and reminded her of what he was. More importantly, it reminded her of how dangerous he was, even in a public setting such as the one they were currently in. She shuddered as he spoke of fire and passion, each syllable shooting straight to her core. She glanced up at him and her eyes narrowed as she saw the look in those molten orbs of his. “I’m not afraid of any of them,” she told him. “No matter what they toss in my way.”

“I never said you were, nor did I suggest that you should be. It was merely a warning of what is to come, if you will, my pet,” he elucidated.

“Why do you do that?” she asked, studying him.

Confused, he cocked his head to one side. “Do what?”

“Why do you call me your ‘pet’? I am not a dog,” she pointed out.

At some point, they had stopped dancing, but she hadn’t taken notice. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “You are not a dog,” he agreed. “You are, however, a delectable lioness with claws that are capable of ripping a man’s heart out. I envy my son and pity him at the same time.”

“And here I thought you were in love with Narcissa. Remember her? The woman you married?” she asked, snatching her hand out of his.

His eyes reflected his amusement, though he did not smile. Standing up straight, he gave her a single nod. “And that I am, my pet. She is my muse, my soul, the very reason I am here on this Earth. But do not mistaken me: lust does not equate love. It never has, nor will it ever.” He waved a hand to indicate the masses surrounding them. “Aside from the obvious ones, there isn’t a man here who doesn’t wish to be led away to some darkened corner by you.”

Her frown deepened. “You are a walking contradiction,” she replied in awe. “I need to find Draco before you manage to confuse me further.”

He smirked. “He was dancing with your mother the last I saw,” he told her.

She turned, her eyes scanning the dance floor, but they rested on him leaning against the bar. Glancing back at Mr. Malfoy, she gave him a short bow. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, though she didn’t wait for a response.

Lucius watched as she left him, his mind replaying the dance their shared and the riveting conversation that had gone with it. His smirk turned malicious as he thought over the seeds he had planted within her mind. Things were looking up for the Pureblood and he couldn’t have been happier.

(III)(III)

“You look like you’re on edge,” Draco commented as he took a pull from his whiskey.

Hermione glanced at the dance floor, watching as Lucius and Richard both danced with their respective wives. “It’s been a long night,” she said as she turned to look at her fiancé.

He shrugged. “Minus the bit that happened earlier at supper, I thought things were going rather well, unless,” he looked at her in concern. “My father didn’t do anything did he? I did see him dancing rather close to you at one point.”

The Muggle born rolled her eyes and gave a small snort. “Nothing out of the ordinary for him, I think,” she said. “I do believe he thinks he can still charm a girl half his age. It’s quite sad really when you think about it.”

“Problem is, if he really wants to, he can still charm a girl half his age,” Draco stated as he swirled the drink in his hand. He took another gulp of the fiery liquid.

Hermione’s eyes darted back to the Pureblooded couple dancing. “Yes, well, I wish him the best of luck with that,” she muttered as an elf handed her a glass of wine.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “He did try something with you,” it wasn’t a question.

The witch touched his arm and looked kindly at him. “My dragon, he could recite Shakespeare and I still wouldn’t buy what he was selling. You’re the one I am in love with, and you are the one I wish to spend the rest of my life with,” she assured him.

He faltered for a moment. “What you and Brown argued about earlier…”

She sighed. “Look. I’m not going to deny that I did love Ron, Draco. I did. I had fantasies of marrying him one day and I dreamt of what our children would look like, but something happened. I was hurt and everything I had planned, all my dreams and wishes, were undone thanks to his actions. For a moment, I thought my life was over, but then you helped me see past it.” She gave him a smile and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “You showed me what love really was. I don’t ever want you to doubt my love for you because I will never doubt yours for me.”

Her words were soothing, like a balm to the problems he knew they were facing, but they just weren’t enough. He believed her, he did. But he also feared what would happen if she ever learned of what he had done. He needed the reassurances of the binding and the marriage. He wanted to know that there would be absolutely no way for her to leave him.

“You are my everything,” he croaked, looking down at his glass. When he glanced back up at her, there was water in his eyes, though no tear fell. “Everything I do… everything I’ve done, has been for you. I hope you know that.”

She wrapped her arm around his and leaned into him. “You are my knight in shining armour,” she teased as she rested her head on his shoulder.

His eyes glided over the dancers. “Funny how life works out,” he observed. “Last year, if you would have told me this would happen, I believe I would’ve laughed in your face.”

“I would have alerted Madam Pomphrey and suggested that you have your head examined,” she retorted.

“I probably would have let you, too,” he stated. They both chuckled.

(IV)(IV)

Blaise loosened his tie as he shut the door behind him. “Tonight was… eventful, wouldn’t you say?” he commented as he stepped out of his shoes.

Padma smiled a little and sighed. “I don’t blame Hermione for her anger, but she really shouldn’t have done what she did. I mean…” she let the comment wither away as she reached behind herself and began undoing the buttons of her dress.

“Honestly, I thought it was pretty ingenious,” he argued as he approached the Ravenclaw to help her. “It was Brown’s fault for not checking. Even if she didn’t look it up, she could have asked Pomphrey or, hell, even the Weasley mother, what is her name?”

Padma scoffed. “The woman with seven children? Can you imagine how that conversation would go? ‘Mrs. Weasley, I’m thinking about aborting the child I conceived with your son, but was told I could possibly die from it. Is that true? Oh, by the way, here’s your cup of tea,’” she mimicked sarcastically and gave her husband a look.

He chuckled. “She could have asked anyone, to be honest,” he surmised. “From the looks on their faces, I reckon even Potter and both of the Weasleys new the truth to that statement. Point is, she put too much faith in a single person who had a biased idea about what she should do with her body. That opens up room for idiocy.”

The Indian girl just shook her head and sighed again as she stepped out of her dress. “Did you see the look on Mr. Malfoy’s face when he danced with Hermione?” she asked, changing the subject. She glanced at her husband in concern. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

He snorted as he unbuttoned the final button of his shirt and pulled it off. “Darling, I know he’s dangerous. Even if you forget for a moment that he’s a Death Eater, the man is a billionaire. You don’t reach such status without being ruthless and self-serving. And Draco spends all his time worrying about what I’m going to do when he really needs to focus on his own father,” he commented, wrinkling his nose a bit in distaste.

Her eyes glittered as she looked up at him. “But you did fancy her at one point. Even you cannot deny that.”

“Top of our class, the second most beautiful girl at the Yule Ball, cunning as a Slytherin, smart as a Ravenclaw, loyal as a Hufflepuff, and still has the ferocity of a Gryffindor,” he listed off Hermione’s traits. “I’m telling you, Padma. That girl was made for Draco. Sure, I’ve thought she was beautiful, but I’m not foolish enough to think I would ever have a chance with her.”

Padma lifted a single brow. “Second most beautiful?” she echoed as she looked up at him.

His lips spread to reveal a perfect set of pearly white teeth as he bent his head down. “Second only to you,” he said as he pressed his lips against hers.

She lifted a hand up to his neck to pull him down closer to her. Bending his knees, he swooped her into his arms, picking her up like a bride and carrying her to the bed. Without breaking the kiss, they fell onto the bed with him on top.

Blaise made short work of his trousers and pants and threaded his fingers under the waistband of her knickers, pulling them off. This time, he did break the kiss, but only so he could gaze down at her. “Like caramel,” he whispered, running his fingertips lightly over one of her arms.

Her eyes darkened with desire. “I want to bind myself to you, Blaise,” she told him.

Surprised, he met her chocolate eyes and blinked. “Draco had told me that Mrs. Malfoy said…”

“If something were to ever happen to you, I couldn’t bear to go on living without you,” she muttered. “You are my husband and I love you with all of my heart. In the old days, it was customary for a man and his wife to bind themselves to one another. I’ve always said that I would want to do that with my own husband should I ever get married.”

“And should we have a child?” he questioned.

She raised a brow. “Don’t you know anything about bindings, love? If I were to become pregnant and we were to have a baby, then the death part of the binding would lift, meaning that if, say the wife or husband should die, then the other would still be able to remain alive to care for the child. The binding would only prevent the spouse from ever marrying again or having children,” she said. “It actually is a wonderful solution, particular for those who are truly in love with one another.”

He kissed her tenderly on the lips. Breaking the kiss, he reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a flask. Holding it up to her so she could see, he swirled the potion within it. “This is the next potion, darling,” he told her. “It’s missing only two ingredients: A drop of your blood and a drop of mine. We add those ingredients then drink the potion and make love.”

“And then we are bound to one another?”

“Forever and always.”

She sat up and grabbed her wand off of the nightstand. Taking a piece of pen, she transfigured it into a needle. Blaise watched as she pressed the needle into her fingertip. Uncorking the flask, his eyes widened in amazement as she hovered the finger over the flask and allowed a drop of her blood to fall into the potion. She sucked the finger into her mouth and held the needle out to him. Instead of taking the needle, he gave her his hand and allowed her to pierce his fingertip. Letting the drop of blood enter the flask, he swirled the potion again and they both watched as it changed to the color it needed to be.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

She glared at him. “Just give me the damn potion, Blaise,” she ordered.

He chuckled as he handed over the flask. She drank about half of the potion and handed it to him. He finished it and placed the empty flask on the nightstand.

“Now what?” she asked.

In response, he kissed her again, pushing her to lay down on the bed. Running a hand down her side, he cupped the back of her knee and pulled her leg up to wrap around his body. She responded beautifully as her hands fisted the back of his head. She threw her head back when he entered her and gasped. “I love you,” she whispered breathlessly.

They made love with nothing but the pale moonlight shining through the curtains and soon, she was moaning his name as they completed the spell. A warmth spread over the both of them as he came into her and they stared at one another, both sweaty and tired. “We’re bound,” he commented rather stupidly.

“Always and forever,” she whispered as he rolled over to his side and pulled her into his embrace. They fell asleep without a care in the world.

(V)(V)

Hermione groaned as she stretched on overly large bed. They were due back to Hogwarts this morning, but the Muggle born found that she couldn’t care less. Though the evening had started off rather raw, for lack of better words, the night turned into bliss once she and Draco made their way back to their bedroom.

A smile curled up on her lips. She didn’t even know when she had started considering this room as their bedroom, but she enjoyed the thought. It was their room and it was marvelous. She loved the way he made her feel, the things he would do to her body.

She rolled over and gazed at the man on her mind and stifled a laugh. So, that was where the sheets had gone, she thought to herself as she viewed the man tangled in them. Of course, half of the sheets lay abandoned on the floor, but the bit that was left were wrapped tightly around his torso and legs. His hair stuck out in odd angles that gave him a sort of blond Harry Potter look, minus the lack of morning scruff and, well, chest hair. It still amazed her that despite the fact that he was going on seventeen, Draco had yet to grow any facial or body hair. Though she was curious to know if perhaps he had magically prevented such things. From what she knew, his father didn’t really have facial or bodily hair either. There had to be a spell. She would have to ask him as she was so tired of using a razor.

A loud scream startled both of them and Draco jumped awake. “What the hell?!” he shouted as they both stared at the door.

The blond stumbled out of the bed, tripping over the sheets. Were it not for the seriousness of the scream, as the person continued screaming, Hermione might have laughed. She grabbed their house robes and followed Draco out of the room.

She froze in the doorway, her eyes widening in horror at the scene plastered before her. Padma’s face was buried in Blaise’s chest as he held her tight. Every inch of the sitting room was covered in bloody messages: “Granger” “Hermione Granger is mine” “Stay away from Hermione Granger” “Mine” “Mine” “Hermione Granger” “Granger” “Hermione Granger.”

Hermione clutched her robe against her chest as fear made her forget to breath. “Who did this?” Draco demanded as he walked around the room, his robe lay forgotten on the floor.

Harry and Ginny came scurrying out of their room about the same time as Theo and Luna emerged from theirs. There was a pause as they took in the scene before them. “It’s written in blood,” Ginny commented with a grimace.

“Nice detective work there, Captain Obvious,” Draco spat as he ran a hand through his hair.

She gave him a bored look. “But where did it come from?” she continued, ignoring him.

“Oh no,” Luna whispered. They all looked at her to see her staring at the balcony.

“If that son of a bitch used the same…” Draco growled as he walked to the balcony, opening it and stepping outside. Looking over the side, he fell back in horror.

Hermione ran to him to see what terrified him so much and stopped when she saw it too. Below them, littered upon the ground were the bodies of three house elves… or what was left of them. Like a savage, the murderer had ripped them apart and written upon the lawn was a single message, “You’re next Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco!” Hermione heard the bark of Lucius Malfoy as the man angrily entered the room.

She turned to see Lucius standing in the entrance with two peacocks in his hands, both of them plucked of their feathers and virtually unrecognizable. Lucius surveyed the room and Hermione could see the man was crumbling at the seams. The Muggle born looked from his father to Draco, then back to the room.

“Three of your house elves are dead, too, Mr. Malfoy,” she reported to the Pureblood as her eyes scanned the room.

“Who would do this?” Harry asked with a frown.

Blaise shook his head. “I don’t know, Potter, but I do know one thing: This wasn’t my mother. She would never get her hands so dirty,” he said as he pointed to one of the walls. “That was done with someone’s finger and that isn’t her handwriting either.”

“Draco?” Luna said, causing the blond to whirl on her. She held up his forgotten robe. “You might want to cover up before the nargles see you.”

He snatched the robe out of her hands and threw it over his shoulders. As if Daphne’s murder hadn’t been bad enough… “We need to check the Manor,” he said. After a moment’s thought, he barked, “Marcus!”

The ghostly spectre that had been in the museum the previous night floated into the room, the transparent heart still clutched in his left hand. Hermione gasped at the sight of the being, but Draco didn’t pay attention to her. His eyes focused, instead, on the ghost. “Search the Manor. Let me know if there were any other deaths and tell me who is missing.”

The ghost gave a bow and left the room. “White Dove and Spell were the names of these two birds,” Lucius supplied. “I haven’t seen the others yet, but if they, too, are dead, I’m going to be even more pissed.”

As the patriarch swooped out of the room, Harry glanced at his girlfriend and his best friend. “I don’t think any others are dead. Not yet at least,” he guessed. “Whomever this was, wanted to send a message.”

“Yes, well, message received,” Hermione commented as she looked at the writing on the walls. Her eyes hardened. “And they will pay.”

(VI)(VI)

Draco did not want to be back in school. After the Aurors had arrived at the Manor and it was determined that no human had been harmed, they had suggested that the students were well enough to return to school, though they managed to miss a day in the process. The professors allowed them to make up their work, but there was little else done.

Security around Draco and Hermione was tightened, however, and the Ministry had even set up Aurors to follow them to their classes and even set up residence in their dormitory. For the first time, Hermione had vocally admitted to being glad that Dumbledore had given the couple the privilege of sharing a private dorm with Blaise, Padma, Theo, and Luna as opposed to enforcing the idea that the couple shared a dorm with their respective Houses.

The Weasel and Brown were blatantly ignoring Hermione which, in Draco’s opinion, was a rather good thing, though she was insistent on apologizing to them. “Give them time,” Draco had drawled, though he doubted she had really heard him.

As if that wasn’t good enough, the search for the horcruxes had been halted and Lucius Malfoy was being held on House arrest until further notice. Both of these things annoyed the Slytherin prince. While he agreed that the culprit needed to be caught, he didn’t really fancy the idea that everyone’s focus was elsewhere rather than the matter at hand. Worse still, the quartet of young couples were still expected to sit their exams, regardless of what was occurring.

But all of that wasn’t nearly the worst of the matters. Harry Potter and his blushing bride-to-be were given a room in the dormitory that the Slytherins had been sharing with their respective mates. Apparently, the Auror department felt that the Boy-Who-Lived was also in danger if Granger and Draco were being zeroed in on by the phantom murderer.

He threw his satchel on the bed and plopped down next to it, slamming his body against the mattress in annoyance. “I want to go home,” he practically whined for what had to be the thousandth time.

“A month ago you would have insisted on my having this sort of security,” Hermione chimed as she continued to read her book. “And now you complain when the focus is on you? Bit of a double standard, isn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes and glared at her. “I feel like I’m on house arrest,” he moaned her, another phrase that had been repeated again.

“No,” she corrected. “Your father is on house arrest. You are in school and are free to wander these premises at your leisure.”

“And yet I cannot even go to Hogsmeade and that’s coming up this weekend!” he griped with a scoff. “You’d think someone was waiting around the corner ready to murder me.”

She glanced up at him. “Someone is waiting around the corner ready to murder you,” she pointed out. “Or have you already forgotten the message written on the lawn? It was written in the blood of your elves, remember? And whomever it was had used their limbs of all things.”

He glowered. “I don’t see you jumping to find the killer. What happened to all that ‘save the house elves’ bullshit you were spouting?”

She snapped her book shut with a resounding thud and glared at him. “You think I’m happy with this current climate, Draco? You don’t think I am beside myself with fury over what happened to those innocent elves? A girl is dead and I just learned that, somehow, it’s my bloody fault. Three house elves and two of your father’s prized pets are all dead and it’s because of me! On top of all of that, we still have four blasted horcruxes to hunt down and destroy plus exams in a month! Not to mention your seventeenth birthday is right around the corner and we still have to go to that stupid castle that I apparently own,” she shouted as she threw the book onto the ground. She bared her teeth and made a noise Draco had never heard before.

He propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her as she buried both of her hands in her hair. She looked like someone ready to rip her hair out. His frown deepened. “Well, don’t freak out over it,” he said.

She stared at him in shock. “You’re joking, right?”

He looked away from her. “I’m just griping, Granger,” he told her. “I’m used to being in control of things and I don’t like this sudden lack of control I seem to have.” He sat up properly and clenched his fists in his lap. “I want to do something. I want this asshole to be caught and Avada’d to oblivion. I want those damn horcruxes to be found and destroyed before the Dark Lord has a chance to show his ugly mug again. I want things to go back to normal where we can enjoy what’s left of our time in school and be happily married and young.”

“I want those things, too,” she said. “We all want those things. I mean, I highly doubt your father fancies being imprisoned in his own home. And I don’t like the idea that someone is after your head or thinks they have some sort of right to me. Even my parents aren’t allowed to leave their home and if it weren’t for my donations, they would be even more stressed.”

He glanced at her. “How much did you ask Lupin to give them?”

She sighed. “I asked him to pay off their mortgage, but my father wouldn’t take that money, so instead, he’s just been covering their monthly expenses until the culprit is caught.”

There was a knock on their door and the couple glanced up. “Hermione?” they heard Potter’s voice through the wood. “Are you decent?”

Despite Draco’s protesting look, Hermione told the bespectacled boy he could come in. Potter looked no worse for wear, with his hair disheveled as always and his tie hanging loosely off his neck. He handed Hermione a yellow envelope. “Those are the pictures Ginny had taken that morning,” he informed them.

“Lucky Ginger thought to bring a camera,” Draco drawled as he laid back down on the bed.

“She’s asked you not to call her that,” Potter pointed out, looking at the Slytherin.

“And I’ve explained to her why I do it,” the blond said, not bothering to look at the half-blood. “Bloody hell, Potter, it could be worse. At least I have some thought to give her a less degrading nickname like I do Weasel.”

Hermione pulled the photos out and studied them. “These are great,” she commented as she flipped through them. “But… they don’t move much.”

“Well, in her defense, walls don’t really move,” Potter stated.

Draco scoffed. “The genius of Harry Potter,” he groused. “’Walls don’t really move.’”

Both Gryffindors shot him nearly identical looks of aggravation. “Draco, go find yourself something to do before you piss me off with your bellyaching,” Hermione snapped.

For once, he actually decided to listen to her. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Anything is better than sitting around here waiting for the paint on the walls to chip.” He rolled off the bed and stalked to the door.

Glaring at the two Aurors stationed on either side of the door, he sneered at them. “I’m going to go ride my broom. You lot got a problem with that?”

They didn’t respond to him but as he grabbed his broom from the hall closet, two more Aurors appeared with walk with him. It was times like these that he really missed Crabbe and Goyle. He paused for a moment and glanced at the two Aurors. “On second thought, I want to stop by my House Common Room to invite a couple mates with me,” he told them, though he knew they could care less. So long as they could go with him.

When the trio entered the Common Room, the Slytherins inside stared at them. No one said a word as Draco walked to his old dorm. Crabbe and Goyle sat on the latter’s bed playing Exploding Snap as Pucey and Pansy sat at his bed working on their homework. The four looked up as Draco and the Aurors entered.

“I’m heading to the pitch to fly a few rounds. Any of you lot fancy joining me?” he asked.

Pansy looked at him curiously as the three boys jumped up and began putting their shoes on. “They’re allowing you to fly?” she questioned.

He frowned. “I’m not grounded, Parkinson,” he answered. “Besides, we have a Quidditch final coming up and I need the practice anyway.”

She nodded as she stood up and slipped on her own shoes. “I’m surprised Zabini and Nott aren’t joining you,” she told him as she pocketed her wand.

The small group walked out of the dorm and Draco came face to face with Astoria. She glared at him, angrily. “Bet you’re regretting leaving me for that cunt now, aren’t you, Malfoy?” she hissed.

His eyes narrowed. “Move,” he ordered quietly.

She folded her arms. “What if I don’t want to? You haven’t answered my question yet and I think I deserve one.”

“The only regret that I have is that Zabini had invited your sister instead of you,” he snarked. “Now, get out of my way.”

Something flashed in Astoria’s eyes that he had recognized, though he couldn’t place. He knew that look as she stepped to the side. He pushed past her and headed for the door.

“Such a shame about your father,” she called after him. “Pedophilia isn’t really the wisest thing to get arrested for, wouldn’t you agree?”

Draco halted midstride. He turned to see the girl holding a photo of her and his father having sex upon a hotel bed. Before he could grab it from her, the Aurors had seen it and one sent a Patronis away. Draco could feel all the blood falling to the pit of his stomach as he turned and became sick all over the Common Room floor.
Author's Note: O_O... Sorry about the short chapter, but I have another coming up right behind it that's almost finished. Please don't forget to leave a review! :)
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The Dare