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The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82898 -:- 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
- 24
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- 26
The papers were plastered with pictures of Lucius Malfoy’s mug shots “DEATH EATER TURNED PEDOPHILE” were the headlines with smaller pictures of an embarrassed Narcissa and Draco with a smaller headline “What Will Become of the Family Now” and one with Hermione reading “Wedding in Disarray”.

The Muggle born tossed the Prophet into the fire as she glowered at Draco. “Was he having sex with her?” she asked him.

He took a deep breath and looked away from her. “Father’s always been known to play around with younger women,” he answered evasively.

“But was he playing with Astoria?” she pressed. “Draco.”

He glared at her. “What do you want me to say, Granger? My father is not a pedophile.”

“She produced a photo that showed him fucking around with an underage witch, Draco,” she argued. “By definition, that makes him a pedophile, if it’s true, and you can’t tell me that he didn’t know she was underage because he’s friends with her father for Christ’s sake! Was he or was he not having sex with her? It’s a simple question with a simple answer.”

“How would I know for certain?” he ground out. “All I knew is what Astoria had told me. She had bragged about it to me months ago, but I didn’t think anything of it.” At her look of disgust, he rolled his eyes. “Get off the hippogriff and get back to reality, princess. We’re an old wizarding family. Like many Pureblooded families, there are practices that are condoned within our world that are not exactly progressive. Astoria’s family had been shamed thanks to her turning slag and her sister getting murdered. Father was attempting to help her find a husband.”

“And in the meantime he could have been using her for his own pleasure,” she spat. “It’s sickening and if my parents were to find out about this, what do you think the outcome would be?”

He glared at her. “You’re not planning on telling them?”

“Of course not, that would be stupid,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. “But the backlash of this is ridiculous. We just announced our engagement barely a month ago and already the press is having a go at us.”

“If it wasn’t this, then it would be something else,” he commented as he fell onto the armchair. “What we need to damage control. Father doesn’t need to be in prison for doing something most of the older generation does and no one has any solid proof of.”

She pointed an accusing finger at him. “If I ever catch you doing something like this, Draco Lucius Malfoy, I will throw every hexing curse I can think of at you. You will be castrated and I may even have your parts removed completely!” she threatened, baring her teeth at him. “And what do you mean, ‘no solid proof’?! She had a picture of them having sex!”

His eyes flashed angrily. “I am not my father,” he growled. “I have never given you any reason to think I would do anything even remotely similar to this, nor will I ever. There is only one woman I am interested in and I’m staring at her. That being said…”

“If it’s true, then what your father had done is disgusting and despicable. He deserves worse than prison,” she spat. “At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he was accused of initially raping her, too, though I’m not quite sure how he would have done it. Didn’t she get raped while here in school?”

“That’s the story,” he grouched as he looked away from her.

“Don’t do that,” she demanded. “Don’t act like this is just something she made up! Your father didn’t even attempt to deny it.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I never said she made it up. All I’m saying is that the papers are blowing it out of proportion. They’re acting like she didn’t want any of it.”

“She’s fifteen years old!” she shouted.

His steely eyes locked on her. “And many second born daughters of Death Eater families who aren’t betrothed by her age are treated much worse, or did you not know?” He pushed himself off of the chair and stalked towards her. “Wanna know what happens to second born daughters of Death Eater families who aren’t betrothed by her age? During an after party, they are usually tied to a center post in the middle of the room with a sheet over their head. All night, men gawk at their naked bodies and put their names in a jar and then, a few hours later, a name is drawn and whomever gets picked is allowed to do whatever the bloody hell he wants to her so long as it's sexual and she doesn't die. Had the Dark Lord made it through the Battle in the Ministry, that would have been Astoria’s fate at the next party, only hers would have been worse if she had remained a virgin. See? Virgins are put up on a silent auction block and men make bids to see who gets to take her virginity. And they don’t just fuck her pussy. They take it all. By the end of the night, she becomes a shell of her former self. If the daughter is lucky, a man will offer to buy her services and bring her into his home as a mistress or concubine. If not, she becomes a plaything for the men at every party until she is married off and it’s the father’s responsibility to make sure she marries.” By this time, he was face to face with the Muggle born and had her pressed against the door. “Astoria is one of the lucky ones, Granger. My father took on the responsibility of finding her a husband because her own father was too much of a coward to do it himself. She has no real dowry, even if you add up what she inherited from Daphne. And now, as the newly conceived first born daughter, she’s virtually useless. Her one shot at a decent life is now sitting in prison.”

“Mr. Greengrass isn’t a Death Eater,” she argued.

“How much would you wager on that?” he challenged.

“It doesn’t matter,” she hissed as she pushed past him. “It’s still barbaric and anyone who participates in such disgusting practices deserves to be imprisoned.”

He leaned against the door as he watched her walk to the armchairs by the fireplace. “She wanted it,” he told her. “Despite whatever bullshit she’s spouting now, she wanted it. She bragged about bedding my father and even goaded my mother about it.”

She turned and looked at him. “And what does your mother have to say about all of this?”

He shrugged, pushing himself off the door. “What is she supposed to say? She can’t deny it, nor will she ever admit to it if it’s true. She’s a Death Eater’s wife and doesn’t really know how else to live. Pureblood women are taught from the moment they are born what is to be expected of them.”

“I thought Purebloods valued a girl’s purity,” she said, staring at the fire. “I thought the boys were taught to seek out virgin brides and the girls were encouraged to remain pure until their wedding day.”

“She’s not betrothed,” he reminded her. “That’s why so many girls want to be betrothed as quickly as possible, that’s why so many parents give their daughters dowries so they can, hopefully, persuade men and boys to take interests in them. As beautiful as the Greengrass sisters are and were, neither ever had much aside from beauty to encourage a quick betrothal. The only reason Blaise was tempted is because he had taken pity on Daphne because they’d been friends since they were infants. Of course, now that Astoria is the only girl, she has a bit more of a dowry, but with her openly admitting to having been with a man, the only wizards that will probably show any interest in her are widowers, players, and divorcees.”

Hermione stopped at that and looked at her fiancé. “How much of a dowry are we talking about?” she inquired curiously.

He shrugged as he did quick calculations in his head. “There are no boys in the family,” he admitted. “So, her father will start her off with three quarters and then she’ll inherit the estate and whatever’s left when her parents pass.”

“And how much is that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe about five million? They aren’t a very wealthy family and the only reason Father was friends with Eugene was because they’d known each other since they were boys. And they both served the Dark Lord in their teen years and after. I think the Greengrasses had more than that at one point, but old man Greengrass was a bit of a gambler if I remember correctly. I’d never met the man myself,” he stated.

He could see her thinking as she continued to stare into the fire. He remained silent, knowing that she was piecing together information and could only hope it was in favour of his father. As much as he was annoyed with the bastard, he was still adamant about Lucius getting out of prison.

“I would never forgive your father if he actually did it,” she said after a moment. “Regardless of how he was brought up, taking advantage of an innocent girl at such a young age is wrong. But…” She jumped out of her chair and went to the nightstand. Taking out the folder with the pictures Ginger had taken, she looked at them again. “Something isn’t adding up,” she commented absently as she held the pictures up and into the light where she could get a closer look at them. She looked at him. “That photo she had used as proof of your father’s indiscretion; do you know where it was taken?”

He shrugged. “Probably either the Three Broomsticks or Hog’s Head. According to her, that’s usually where they met up. I still think the picture’s a fake, though.”

“But your father never mentioned to you that he had slept with her?”

“If he had actually slept with her, why would he tell me about it? Only a fool would admit to such a transgression, especially one so damning,” the blond admitted. “Why? What are you thinking?”

She stared at the picture of the bloody message to Draco. “I’m not sure,” she whispered. She shook her head and looked at him. “You’ve been distracting me.”

His eyes widened and he was taken aback. “Sorry?”

She gave him a soft smile and patted his arm. “I don’t mean maliciously. What I mean is, I’ve been so wrapped up in our relationship that I haven’t been thinking clearly,” she clarified. She took the photos to her chair and sat down. “And you’re not the only one. Learning that I’m an heiress and that Harry and I need to find horcruxes doesn’t make things any easier. Draco, despite what’s going on with Harry and money and our own upcoming wedding, etcetera, etcetera, there is still an unsolved murder on our hands. One that happened right in your rooms without either of us realizing it. And not just us, but Blaise, Luna, and Theo had all be there as well. How did it happen? How could a person, any person, bypass the securities set in place within Malfoy Manor without even your father realizing what was going on? Someone should have been alerted.”

She stood up again and moved to her trunk. Opening it, she dug inside. “I think you were right earlier,” she told him as she pulled out a small beaded bag. “I want to look at the sitting room again, but up close. These photos only tell part of the story. I need a real, live comparison to the photos.”

He frowned. “How do you expect to do that from here? We’re at school. I…” but she was already leaving the room.

He followed her to Potter’s door and waited by her side as she knocked on the door, but she didn’t wait for an answer. Undaunted, she opened the door and went inside. Rolling his eyes, Draco followed her before the door had a chance to snap shut. Potter and Ginger jumped up from their bed and pulled the covers up closer to them as they stared at the Muggle born in surprise.

“Hermione!” Ginger greeted as Potter fished for his glasses.

“Harry, I need to borrow your cloak,” the bushy haired witch stated as she walked to his side of the bed.

“Why?” the boy asked, donning his glasses and squinting at her.

The girl waved a hand as she went to his trunk and began looking through it. “There’s something I need to see and I can’t get where I need to go without it.”

The raven haired Gryffindor glanced at the Slytherin in askance, but Draco simply shrugged, lifting his hands. “I think she wants to return to the sitting room, but, Granger…”

She had found the cloak. Pulling the fabric out of the trunk, she began to unfold it, but before she could throw it over herself, Draco grabbed her shoulder. “Hermione!” he hissed. “You can’t just wander into Malfoy Manor. It will know you are there and it will stop you. You won’t get even close to my suite.”

“Then come with me,” she offered. “Draco, something tells me that the answers to the questions are within that room. I don’t know why, but I have to have another look at it. I missed something, I know I have.”

He shook his head. “Think about it, princess. Exams will be soon and before you know it, we will be out of school for the summer holidays. Why not just wait until then?”

“Because by then it may be too late!” she insisted, looking a bit frantic. “Do you or do you not want your family’s name cleared? As much as I hate what your father has done, I am more interested in justice than his faults. Finding Daphne’s killer is important, is it not?”

“Hermione, you’ve been obsessing over her death since Christmas,” the boy groaned. “A few more weeks isn’t going to make much difference by now.”

“Obsessing?” she repeated, insulted.

Harry climbed out of bed. “I’ll go with you,” he told her as he reached for his trousers and put them on. It was lucky for the disheveled boy that he wore boxers to bed.

“Great,” Draco commented throwing his hands in the air. “Let’s all just sneak our way back into the Manor to try and discover something that a team of Aurors managed to miss! While we’re at it, maybe Marcus the Heartless will play a game of chess with us, too.”

“Marcus the Heartless?” Ginger echoed as she, too, got dressed.

The Slytherin gave her a bored look. “The family ghost,” he explained. “He was the younger brother of Nicholas Malfoy, my direct ancestor, and he was put to death after he was caught tearing the heart out of some Muggle who had killed his wife. Quite gruesome, really, and completely unjust if you ask me.”

She made a face. “Yeah. He tears a heart out and he’s the one who was unjustly killed,” she snarked as she pulled on her daytime robes. She looked at Hermione. “So, how are we getting out of here? We can’t exactly use Thestrals as the Ministry and professors would be expecting that.”

With her hand on the door, Hermione threw a look at her ginger-haired friend. “I’m the heiress of Merlin,” she said simply. “I’d like to see them stop me.”

(II)(II)

Draco watched in amazement as he, Hermione, and Potter managed to slip out of their Common room undetected as Ginger distracted the guards. And these idiots were supposed to be watching over them? He made a mental note to hire his own set of guards, ones that were more competent.

Once they stepped outside of the castle, Hermione took off the cloak and, folding it, handed it to Harry. “What was the point of that?” the bespectacled boy asked as he shoved the cloak into a pocket in his robes.

“I didn’t want them to follow us until they noticed we were missing,” she answered as they walked hurriedly towards the gate to Hogsmeade.

The Slytherin gave a sharp chuckle at that. “Well, it looks as though someone has already noticed,” he commented, pointing to the five figures quickly approaching them.

Hermione did not slow down as the people met up with them. “What’s going on?” Theo asked as he took long strides to keep up.

“Hermione thinks she may be on to something,” Draco drawled as the witch opened the gate with a flick of her wand.

“How did she do that?” Ginny asked curiously, but continued to follow.

Once they were at a safe distance away from the castle, Hermione stopped and turned to the others. “Alright. I’m going to Malfoy Manor. If you want to come with me, meet me right in front of the gate. Otherwise… well, you are free to go on about your business,” she instructed.

Draco grabbed her arm. “You’re not Disapparating without me,” he told her, but she simply shrugged and turned on the spot.

With a loud Crack, the two reappeared before the gates. Shortly after, the others appeared as well, looking both intrigued and sick from their Apparations. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to find, princess,” Draco commented as he reached into his pocket for his wand.

The witch began walking towards the gate as she pulled out the photos. “I don’t know, but I swear there is something I am missing. People can’t just…” she paused when she realized no one was following her. Turning around, she saw the small group of students staring wide-eyed and shocked at her… on the other side of the gate. “What are you doing over there?” she asked.

“Granger,” Draco said slowly. “I didn’t cast the spell to allow people in yet.”

She frowned at that and thought about it for a moment. Then realization slowly began to dawn on her. The gates of Malfoy Manor were locked. Only a family member could pass through unless a family member permitted otherwise. Hermione stood on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Alone. Well, that was new.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of her confusion. “We’ll think about it later,” she said as she turned back around. “I don’t have time right now.”

Draco waved his wand and the others followed quickly. “Princess, do you have any idea what this means?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him as she continued towards the Manor. “It means the grounds have accepted me as family,” she told him. “I know, but we have a more pressing matter at the moment.”

(III)(III)

The walls of the sitting room remained much the same since the investigations, though the blood was getting old now. Much of it was brown, nearly black in colour, and some of it had begun to chip, but the messages remained. Draco looked at them in disgust. “I need to find out when I can have this room repainted,” he commented.

Hermione gazed at one wall in particular, comparing it to the photo in her hand. “No, this is much better,” she said as her eyes roved over ever mark within the paint. She reached up to point to the letters written there. “Look at the detail. You can see how the person wrote this. The curve of their fingers. They were wearing gloves, which is smart.”

“How did you get that?” Blaise asked as he looked at the mark himself.

“And they used two fingers instead of one to make it look bigger and bolder,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard the dark Slytherin. “Look at the way the ‘H’ is written, how it starts. One finger was longer than the other.” Looking down at her hand for a moment, she glanced back up at the letters. “The middle and ring fingers,” she suggested.

“Unless they were left handed,” Blaise pointed out.

The Muggle born pinched her lips together as she contemplated that thought. She glanced down at the furniture, taking note in how it was arranged. “Someone pushed this chair against this wall,” she said as she touched the overstuffed chair.

“How did you…”

She pointed to the marks on the floor and glared at Harry. “Pay attention.”

“I’m sure the Aurors already wrote these things down, Granger,” Theodore commented as he walked towards one of the chairs. He moved to sit down, but Draco grabbed him before he could.

“Don’t disrupt anything. It’s still a crime scene,” the blond warned.

Hermione climbed upon the chair and reached up, attempting to touch the letters above it. “They were about my height, maybe a bit taller,” she said aloud. She glanced over at the other students who stood looking at her as well as at the writings.

Snapping her fingers, she hopped off the chair and ran into Draco’s room. When she returned, she had a handful of pens and a stack of small notebooks in her hands. She handed a book and pen to each of them. “Take note of everything you see. Anything you see that could be out of place,” she told them and turned to her fiancé. “This is your suite. You know this area like the back of your hand. Note anything that isn’t where it belongs and how it was moved.” She then looked at the other two Slytherin boys. “You two as well. You must’ve spent a load of time within this Manor. Anything. Everything you see can be helpful.”

“I do see a lot of nargles,” Theodore joked, earning a very serious nod of agreement from Luna.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Write it down,” she ordered and turned her attention back to the wall she was studying.

Despite the fact that all eight students were missing from school, they worked for hours before the Aurors showed up. Their notepads turned out to be some forms of journals that magically added pages as they ran out.

“Hermione, look. A handprint,” Luna observed as she looked behind a chair that had been propped against another wall.

The Muggle born jumped at the mention of the print and ran to the girl, but the handprint had only managed to confirm her suspicion. The person had used gloves. “It’s rather small, too, isn’t it?” Draco commented.

Tilting her head to the side, Hermione watched as Draco pulled the chair out and compared the size of the print to his own hand. It was rather small. She did the same, holding her hand up to the print. “Almost like a child,” she muttered in awe.

“Why would a child do this?” Ginny questioned, looking at another wall in distaste.

“I didn’t say they did,” the brunette pointed out. “I’m just comparing the size of the hands. Children have small hands.”

Blaise had stepped on the balcony to study the writing on the ground, but weather had managed to wash it all away, so he used the picture Ginny had taken instead to get a clearer idea. “The elves were set up in a pile, right? This person, whoever they were, had cut off the limbs and threw the used pieces into a pile if I remember right.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, they were scattered,” she told him, going to the folder and pulling out another photo to show him a different angle. “And the feathers from the peacocks had been strewn about Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy’s suite with no real pattern.”

“I’m telling you, officer, they must be in the school somewhere,” they heard Mrs. Malfoy say from the other side of the door. She opened the door to the suite to find all eight students standing in various spots throughout the room.

The Auror folded his arms as he stepped inside as the Pureblood matriarch stared at the students in a mixture of shock and fury. “Draco Lucius! What exactly are you and your friends doing here?” she ground out through clenched teeth.

The blond shrugged as he stepped away from the chair. “We’re attempting to do the job his people are supposed to do,” he said, waving a hand at the Auror.

If the Auror thought he would intimidate the small group of students by staring them down, he was greatly mistaken. However, the look of fury from Narcissa did cow Draco, Blaise, and Theodore. “It was Granger’s idea,” the blond commented, refusing to look at his mother.

Narcissa folded her arms as well, as she raised a single brow. “And did Miss Granger hold a wand to your head and order you to tag along?” she questioned, then added, “Choose your words carefully, Draco, for they may well be your last once I’m finished with you.”

Having known how dangerous an angry mother could be, Hermione turned to the woman. “Forgive him, Cissy, please,” she begged. “I didn’t not tell him to come, but I did ask him. I wanted his opinion on the things I found and he’s been a great help to me. They all have.”

Narcissa raised both of her eyebrows. “Really, how so?”

The Muggle born looked over her notes. “We’ve deducted that Blaise spoke true that day. There’s no way his mother could have done this, and it leads me to believe she wasn’t responsible for Daphne’s death either,” she said as she looked back up at the Pureblood. “I also think that there’s reason to believe that Lucius may have been framed.”

This caused a shocked silence to reverberate through the room. “I’m sorry?” the matron asked as she stared at the girl.

Hermione frowned as she looked through her notepad. “I don’t doubt the validity of Astoria’s claim. She was raped, of course. There’s no denying that, however, I don’t know that I am buying everything she says. Not yet.” She gazed at the blonde Pureblood witch. “A part of me truly believes Lucius did sleep with her, but that’s not a thought I want to believe. He’s a terrible flirt, but I would hate to know that he truly is a pedophile.”

“A picture speaks a thousand words, Miss Granger,” the Auror said.

The Muggle born nodded. “True,” she acquiesced, “but who took the picture? Astoria couldn’t possibly take the picture and fuck him at the same time. The picture wasn’t close enough for that. What if he was baited?”

“That wouldn’t matter in a court of law, Miss Granger,” the Auror assured her. “He still knowingly slept with an underaged girl.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she thought through it. “We have to think about motives. Who has the most to gain by framing Mr. Malfoy? Who gains through the tragic death of Daphne Greengrass?”

“If you’re suggesting Astoria had done this,” Draco interrupted, “you’re forgetting one small detail, princess.”

When she looked at him, he pointed at the walls. “If Astoria is the one responsible for all of this. she wouldn’t write your name in the blood of my elves and pets, proclaiming that you belong to her,” he told her.

“Unless, she isn’t interested in marrying me, but rather in doing something more insidious,” she muttered.

“What would be the point in framing Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked.

She looked at him curiously. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, remember? Think about it, Harry. Mr. Greengrass wrote a letter to Mr. Malfoy asking to cut a deal to wed her to Draco. Mr. Malfoy turned him down because Draco was interested in me, not her. Every time she’s ever spoken to me, it was to insinuate that it should be her dating Draco. She blames me for supposedly ‘stealing’ him from her.”

“Like you blamed Lavender?” Padma pressed.

Hermione shook her head. “That’s different,” she stated. “Lavender had seen Ron and I together several times. She knew we liked each other and were a couple. If Draco were truly dating Astoria, I didn’t know about it. And even when she pointed it out to me, he denied it.”

“That’s because they weren’t dating,” Theo confirmed. “She just wanted to date him.”

Hermione looked about the room, searching for any other possible clues. “What were the names of the elves that were killed?” she asked. She flipped through her little notebook and answered herself, “Pebbles, Mikey, and Basa...” the name caught in her throat when she realized who it was. She hesitated at the name before she choked it out, “Basal… Oh no, not him…” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Draco.

He approached her and pulled her into his embraced, rubbing her back. “We’ll find them, princess,” he promised. “I don’t know if it is Astoria behind these attacks, but whomever it is, we’ll find them.”

(IV)(IV)

The next few weeks were disheartening for the Muggle born teenager. She didn’t waver in her classes, but she became more withdrawn and quiet. She kept her head down and her arm threaded with Draco’s as they walked through the school corridors. She gave soft smiles to passerby’s who waved at her, but the smiles never reached her eyes.

Draco was beside himself. He had never known anyone to be so heartbroken over the loss of a house elf. She had also taken up watching Astoria when they were in the Great Hall and actually surprised Draco the day she had joined him at the Slytherin table.

“Shouldn’t you be with your House?” he asked quietly as he reached across her to grab a bread roll.

She looked at him and her frown deepened a bit. “Do you not want me here?”

Startled, he met her eyes. “Of course I do,” he insisted. “Nothing thrills me more than having you by my side. I was just curious to why, of all the times you could have sat here, you chose today to do so?”

She shrugged as she picked up a roll for herself. “Exams start today,” she commented, “and you’re my good luck charm. At least until we get there.” Her eyes darkened as they fell on her latest obsession. “Besides, we never go to your House Common Room anymore and I feel this is the best way to observe those I am suspicious of,” she added in a whisper.

He glanced down the table to see Astoria piling food on her plate and chatting with one of her friends. She didn’t look particularly happy, but he didn’t think she had noticed the Muggle born yet either.

Crabbe and Goyle plopped down on the bench on either side of the couple. “Well, whadda we got here?” Crabbe asked. “’Bout time you joined the cool kids, ‘Mione.”

She gave the boy a small smile and then straightened up. “I happen to think my own House mates are just as cool,” she defended. “I just wanted to come sit next to Draco.”

Goyle snorted as he began filling his own plate. “Nah,” he stated. “Colours of Gryffindorks are red ‘n gold, which, are colours o’ flame, in’it? Makes ya rather hot, not cool.”

“Don’t call my House that, please,” Hermione reprimanded tiredly.

“Aye, red ‘n gold, Greg,” Crabbe agreed and he took a bite of his scrambled eggs.

Draco looked at the boy next to him in distaste. He glanced down the table where Astoria sat and saw she had noticed them. He could see her eyes darken considerably. She threw her napkin on her plate and stood up from the table. Grabbing her bag, she stormed out of the Hall.

Hermione made a move to do the same thing, but Draco latched onto her arm. “Sit down, princess, and eat,” he ordered her with a hiss.

“But she’s…”

“She’s not going to do anything here at school, especially not while exams are going on,” he said, looking at her coldly.

“Draco…”

“Let’s just get through today, alright?” he spat. “We have two exams to do today and not nearly enough time to be chasing after obsessions and hunches.”

“It’s not a hunch!” she insisted.

He looked at her. “Where’s your proof?” he challenged. He sighed. “Look, even if your hunch pans out to be true, without sufficient evidence, Father will remain in prison and the true culprit will continue to walk free.”

“I heard about that,” Gregory said as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. “About your dad, mate. That was rather rotten luck, wasn’t it?”

“You heard?” the blond asked in confusion. “You were there when she made the accusation and flashed that picture.”

“A bunch of us were there,” Pucey said as he helped Pansy to sit down before joining her. “Though the general consensus is that he’s innocent, there are some who fully believe her story. Like that Hodgens girl.”

Pansy looked down at her plate as she cut through her sausage patty. “That Hodgens girl isn’t really the best example you can give, darling. She’s worse than Greengrass with as wide as she spreads her legs and she’ll do it for anyone, regardless if they pay her or not.”

Hermione stared at the Pureblood in horror. “That’s terrible. Does Snape know?”

The boys, with the exception of Draco, snickered and Hermione watched as Blaise and Theo joined them. “Even if Snape did know, you think he’d actually do something about it?” Theodore asked as he spread marmalade over some toast. “What happens in Slytherin, stays in Slytherin. We say nothing to anyone when we leave.”

“Which is something you need to remember, Pansy, when you speak,” Draco commented as he broke his bread in half and took a bite from it. He chewed and swallowed before continuing, “This is how things get blown out of proportion. We know nothing of Astoria or her actions outside of what we see with our own eyes, same with Hodgens. Assuming the worst will do us little good.” He looked at his fiancée. “I know what you think, princess, and you’ve given a pretty damn good argument, but without proof, it’s just talk.”

“So, we find evidence to support my claim,” she stated.

The group glanced at one another. Taking out his wand, Blaise silently cast the necessary spells to make their conversation private. “What is the claim and what can we do to help?”

Pansy’s eyes glittered with mischief as she looked up. “Oh, I love a good intrigue!”

(V)(V)

They were walking back towards their dorm when Draco got an idea. Holding onto Hermione’s hand, he waited for the moment when the Aurors weren’t paying attention to pull her into a broom closet. Before she could protest, his mouth was on hers and his hands were running along her back.

Her fight was forgotten as she buried her hands in his hair. Hooking his hands under the back of her knees, he pulled her up and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her back against the door. He pushed up her school skirt as he trailed his lips down to her throat.

“Yes, Draco,” she breathed, arching her back against him as she stared up into the darkness of the closet. She could feel his aching, clothed member pressing against her core and she wanted it so badly.

Using one hand, he reached between them and opened his fly. Within seconds, his thick cock was free from its restraints and, in one quick thrust, was buried inside of her. Both teenagers groaned at the connection. “I’ve missed this,” he whispered against her neck as he sucked her flesh into his mouth.

She grasped his shoulders as he continued to plunge into her, building up a rhythm and hitting that sweet spot he knew she loved. She moaned loudly as she saw white dots in her eyes and hit that high note. Feeling him spill his seed inside of her, she couldn’t think as she pulled his face up to hers to kiss him.

“One day, love,” he whispered against her lips. “One day this connection will sprout life. Life that we create together.”

She smiled as she kissed him again. “I love you so much,” she told him.

Gently helping her to regain her footing, he smoothed out his robes and tucked himself back into his trousers. When they met one another’s eyes, they both smiled and Hermione gave a small giggle. “You really are amazing. You know that, right?” she asked as she fixed her own robes, making sure her skirt was straightened correctly.

“I know,” he stated with a smug smirk as he opened the door.

Her smile widened and she was about to retort when they were greeted by the two Aurors who stood on either side of the closet. Students passing by stared, both at the couple and the guards as the Muggle born felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

“She had a wardrobe malfunction,” Draco said coolly to the guards. “I had to help her out because she couldn’t see it and I didn’t want her to embarrass herself.”

Hermione pulled at his sleeve. “We need to get back to the Common Room so we can study,” she told him.

The two saw the guards glancing at one another as Hermione tried to hold back her giggles. Without another word, the pair continued on the path to their dorm, both with self-satisfying smirks plastered on their faces.

(VI)(VI)

“So, Mother sent me an owl this morning,” was Draco’s greeting as he lounged in one of the chairs by the Common Room fireplace. “The Ministry has refused to set a bail for Father, so he’s stuck in prison until the trial.”

Hermione and Harry looked up from their books and gave one another a glance. “You know he’s guilty, Malfoy,” Harry commented slowly.

The Slytherin sat up and glared at the Boy-Who-Lived. “No I don’t,” he spat. “And neither do you. My father has been a stand up citizen ever since the Dark Lord left. Both times. He’s more than paid his dues to society and some conniving little slag set him up in an effort to get her grimy little hands on a bit of our money.”

“You do know he invited me to that little after party he likes to throw,” Hermione told him. “And not just once, but he did it at Christmas, too.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “He invites every beautiful woman to his after party,” he said defensively. “You can’t actually believe he did anything with her. And, even if he did, we’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”

“What the patriarchs of old did with their daughters does not excuse your father now,” Hermione stated. “Draco, the evidence is against him and until we have solid proof that she tampered with anything, we have to take her word over his. We should never blame the victim.”

“But my father is the victim!” he nearly shouted as he stood up.

Harry scoffed and muttered, “I doubt it.”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded as Draco brandished his wand and rushed the Gryffindor boy.

The Boy-Who-Lived pulled out his own wand as the Slytherin grabbed the collar of his shirt and continued to force him backwards until he slammed into a wall. Harry grunted before he kicked up and out, throwing Draco off of him and shooting the Leg-Locker curse at him. In a matter of moments, the boys had begun dueling, casting jinxes and hexes at one another with little regard to anyone else in the room. The fight didn’t last long, however, as Hermione cast the Protego charm and sent both boys flying backwards. Before either of them were able to gather their wits, she disarmed them both.

“Would you both stop it!” she yelled. “You’re acting like children.”

Draco pulled himself off the ground and dusted himself off, straightening his robes. Glaring at Harry, he stormed out of the room before anyone could say anything and slammed the portal shut. Hermione watched him go as her face fell.

Sighing, she turned back to the boy wizard with the scar on his forehead. “You didn’t have to say that,” she reprimanded.

Angered, he waved a hand at the door. “That’s who you want to be with? Come off it, Hermione! I’ve been quiet up until this point, but I’ve about had it with that arsehole,” he snarled. “You don’t think his father did what he’s been accused of? Even you’ve witnessed it firsthand! That man would do anything, anything to get to the top and his son is following right in his footsteps. I wouldn’t be surprised if Voldemort came back and both of them pledged their allegiances to him the moment they had a chance. The whole bloody family is rotten to the core.”

“Watch it, Potter,” Theodore warned as he stood up from the chair he had been sitting in. “You don’t know a damn thing about Draco and his family and you sure as hell don’t know the shit they’ve been through.”

“I know an innocent girl died while under their protection,” Harry countered. “I know house elves were murdered when they weren’t paying attention. And there isn’t a doubt in my mind that Lucius Malfoy fucked that girl. Did you see the look on his face in the paper?”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you of all people knew how the paper can distort things, or were what they said about last year and the year before true? Were you really haunted by the ghosts of your past when you entered into the Tournament?”

“I’m not a fucking Death Eater,” Harry snapped.

“And neither is Draco,” the raven haired Slytherin stated. “You’re just like most of the other Gryffindors I know. You jump to conclusions without a lick of evidence and are too proud to think that maybe, just maybe, there is a different explanation.”

“She had photo proof!” Harry shouted, pushing his glasses back up his nose and throwing his arms out wide. “What more do you want?”

Theodore glanced at Hermione who was standing there looking dumbstruck. “I want to know who took the picture,” he commented calmly. He focused his attention on the Muggle born who was slowly slipping out of her stupor and into something that was mixed between disbelief and hurt. “Granger, I know Lucius has flirted with you. Hell, I’ve heard him do it. But why would he be so careless as to let such an incriminating thing to slip past his defenses? He would have known that such a scandal could break his family, so why wouldn’t he have noticed it?”

“You think the photo was contrived?” she managed to ask after a moment, her watery eyes meeting his.

The boy pursed his lips. “I think there is more to this story that what meets the eye,” he answered. “Lucius Malfoy is a Slytherin, but so is Astoria. Even more, she’s been jilted, much like you were when you caught Weasley with Brown. Regardless of Draco’s lack of affection for her, she saw what the two of you did and, to her, it was virtually the same thing.”

She dropped her wand arm and glanced at the door. “I should go find him,” she stated as she started towards the door, but Theodore stopped her.

“Let him go for now,” he advised. “If you like, I can check up on him, but he’s angry right now and I think he has a right to be.”

She glared accusingly at Harry for a moment and then turned back to the tall, lanky boy. “Find him. Please,” she requested.

(VII)(VII)

Draco had never wanted to kill anyone as much as he wanted to kill Harry fucking Potter at that moment. How dare he! He didn’t know a damn thing about Lucius and yet he spat his “holier-than-thou” ideals, tainting Hermione’s thoughts on the members of his family.

He kicked the leg of a suit of armour as he pulled a cigarette out of his robes and headed outside to the pitch. What he really wanted to do was storm into Slytherin House and hex the bitch that incarcerated his father, but that was too brash and he knew it would only end in even more disaster.

He lit the cigarette with his wand as he walked down the path, his mind a jumbled mess. Glancing behind him, he saw the two Aurors that usually surrounded him following him at a steady pace. The blond seriously contemplated throwing a nasty hex at them to force them to go away.

Once at the Quidditch pitch, he climbed the stands all the way to the top of the Slytherin side. Seating himself on the highest bench, he took a long drag from his cigarette and closed his eyes. Leaning slightly forward he let his mind sift through his thoughts, coming to conclusions and stowing them away. He really needed to get away from the school and he desperately needed to wed Hermione and soon. Things were getting too heated for his liking and he knew they were going to get worse before they got better. Despite what she had promised him, he knew their marriage was the only way he could have any guarantees of their relationship.

A big part of him wanted to confess to her over what he had done. To admit that he had ordered Astoria’s innocence to be stolen away. That she didn’t remember it happening meant nothing to him aside from the fact that a conviction would be difficult without the memory. For all intents and purposes, he would remain a free man, so he didn’t have to worry about that part.

He also knew the truth about his father: that the man had fucked the girl. But to confess that before the jury had reached a verdict would almost certainly convict the man to a near life sentence. But the things Hermione had said about his father bothered him. He knew the man had invited her to the after party. He had been there at the Christmas dinner the night he had done it. The fact that he invited her again should not have bothered him so much, but it seemed off.

Lucius knew how Draco had felt about the girl. He knew Draco wanted her for himself and no one else. So why had he been so adamant about her attending a party?

The dance the patriarch had shared with the girl replayed in Draco’s mind. They had danced so close, almost like lovers. Except, he knew that Hermione had no interest in Lucius that way. He also knew she wouldn’t have recognized anything the man was doing. Too naïve to take note of advances and too low of a self-esteem to imagine that a man like Lucius would truly be interested in her.

He froze as a single image of them flashed in his mind. Lucius had held her close and dipped his head to whisper something in her ear, but that wasn’t what Draco was focusing on. In that moment, Lucius had lifted the hand that was holding her waist and ran his fingertips up her spine before cupping her head briefly. It was a move Draco had only seen once before.

His eyes darkened in anger and jealousy and he took a final drag and threw the cigarette down onto the floor. Stomping it out, he headed back to the castle and the dormitory. He and Hermione needed to have a talk. Immediately. And if she didn’t agree to marry him come this summer, she would, at least, bind herself to him.

Hermione belonged to Draco and he’d be damned if someone else thought otherwise.
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The Dare