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The Spy Game	By : kstargal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 8717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own JK Rowling's Harry Potter Universe or Characters. I also unfortunately dont make any money from this either!

Chapter List
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Hermione fingered the cheap trinket with barely veiled contempt. It was a small dragon statue, complete with fake ruby eyes. Whoever Draco thought he was buying a ‘good’ bootlegged wand from, was obviously in the business of selling crap. It was a hoarders dream; the tiny cramped shop was floor to ceiling with useless junk. Although, out the corner of her eye Hermione spied a first edition of Hogwarts a History. Flicking through it idly, she waited while Draco finished his transaction.

Spud, or more civilly known as Scott, had apparently been running an illegal trade of stolen wands for years. This was all made possible due to a magically hidden trapdoor - which led into a dingy basement. The good cop in Hermione wanted to rat him out, yet she knew he was their only hope of getting out of this horrid situation alive. She hoped the wand they procured wasn’t a botched ‘fix-up’ job. Hermione had visions of ending up with Ron’s broken wand from Hogwarts.

Spud’s slightly balding head popped up from the basement stairs; brandishing three old and worn wands. Hermione sighed in what she hoped was a disapproving tone. Judging by Malfoy’s quick look, it had the desired effect. Glad he had acknowledged her; she stuck her nose back into the book, and read up on the wards which protected Hogwarts. It was still a riveting read - even though she knew the wards inside out; having experienced them first hand. Hermione also knew reading was an excuse to keep her eyes busy; they seemed to gravitate towards Draco a little to often for her liking.

“Here we go, David, the best of the best.” Draco ignored her derisive huff, and picked up the first wand - testing its grip and weight.

Flicking his wrist, a tiny spark no bigger than a candle flame came from the tip – then nothing. Draco raised an eyebrow, fixing Spud with a withering look.

“Okay, okay, maybe not the best - give me a moment. I’ll see what else I have. You’re such a good and loyal customer; I must have grabbed the wrong ones.” His squeaky voice disappeared into the gaping chasm which was the hidden booty room.

Hermione waltzed up and stood next to Malfoys shoulder; then tapped him with her book. “Please tell me you’re not a ‘loyal’ customer. If you are, you have less brains than I give you credit for. He’s a charlatan, a complete and utter rip off. He wouldn’t know a good bootlegged wand if it hit him squarely on the nose and turned him into a Hippogriff.”

“I’ll have you know, ‘David’ is a regular, and he has gotten more help from Spud over the years than from anyone else.” Draco’s eyes dropped to the book in her hand and he smirked. “Hogwarts A History, typical, Granger. Thank Christ I don’t get my contraband from a bookstore. We would die of old age before getting out. It’s also good to see you’re keeping an eye out for our pursuers.”

Hermione felt her face burn. “Just because I like to read, does not make me a bad operative. I am watching out, I’m not male you know - I can do more than one thing at a time. Neanderthal. Just tell me then, how many times did I save your arse by knowing something I had read in a ‘book’?”

Draco grinned at her, making her uncomfortably warm inside. “Touché, but I hardly think that particular book will help us in our situation. Hang on – unless it tells you about the time the third Headmaster had to escape from Hogwarts, then go back later to save his insufferable know-it-all Potions teacher from great peril. Only to be chased by the entire staff of Hogwarts, while they proved their innocence.”

Hermione glowered at him; making fun of Hogwarts a History was not cool. Instead, she slammed it down on his forearm. Yelping, Draco snatched his hand off the counter. This in turn knocked a small device which was hidden near the register. Hermione and Draco held each others gazes as it rolled towards them.

“Oh shit, let’s go!” Draco grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the rear of the shop.

It was an immobiliser – once pushed, you had a ninety second gap before it exploded. It was a pretty straight forward weapon - it immobilised everything in a 6 metre radius. Spud had betrayed them. He’d probably already called them in to the local Auror department. Not that Hermione hadn’t seen this coming a mile away, great idea Draco – trust a man named after a damn vegetable.

Hermione worked out they had at least thirty seconds left before it went off. Pulling her arm free, she ran back to the counter. With a kick of her foot, the trap door slammed closed. She heard the magical seal reapply as the door disappeared from view. Spud would be stuck in there for quite a while. His muffled cry of surprise made her grin.

“You’re excitingly evil, Granger. I think I like it.” Draco turned a half smile on her, making her stomach explode with butterflies. “The mind boggles what you could be like if you actually allowed your guard to drop.”

Hermione ignored his teasing gibe and grabbed the three wands which lay scattered on the counter. After a seconds consideration she grabbed the book as well. It was a first edition after all. She didn’t feel it was stealing since Spud had just called the authorities on them.

They flew out the back door in a sprint, almost smacking into a dumpster in the process. It was still pouring with rain, which made the ground even slipperier. Hermione flailed out wide, nearly losing her footing as Draco pulled her sharply around the corner. Before she could yell at him to slow down, the wall in-front of her exploded in sparks. Oh Crap, the back-up was here.

Hermione pulled out a random wand and cast a spell over her shoulder. She was immediately lifted off the ground and thrown ten feet forward; landing on a pile of cardboard boxes waiting for recycling. Draco was flung forward a few feet, but managed to stay upright.

Hearing a crash behind her, she spun to see the alley in complete disarray. It was almost unrecognisable; everything which wasn’t bolted down; now blocked the small space. She let out a sigh of relief knowing it had stopped their pursuers; for a few moments anyway. The rain pelted down on her as she looked up to the sky. The dark clouds swirled menacingly; they’d have to find shelter – and soon.

“What the fuck just happened, Granger?” Draco slid to a stop before her; then proceeded to grab her arms and squeeze tightly. His hands felt warm and large on her slender forearms, she tried desperately not to imagine them doing other things. Before she could think, he’d moved onto her legs. Hermione felt lust spike. Damn hormones.

“What are you doing? Let me bloody go.” Hermione did not sound angry enough, she was unfortunately quiet husky. Malfoy’s eyes held hers for a moment, a slight frown masking his true emotions. It was almost like he sensed her flare of arousal. No way, he couldn’t – could he? He had all but said on the staircase, this was a job, nothing more. He ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling loudly; before grabbing her ankle. She winced as it throbbed; she also needed a healing charm.

“Granger, you looked like a rag doll being thrown into a twister. I’m checking for broken bones, you daft woman.” He didn’t even look at her as he spoke. He just continued to check her over. His head was bent in concentration and his blonde hair kept falling into his eyes, he impatiently pushed it aside again. The rain was making it near on impossible for Hermione not to find him attractive. Stupid element. Draco was bringing forward images she was desperate to repress. Like the kiss in the elevator shaft, and her naughty thoughts from her shower. Feeling heat rise in places Draco had no right to be making hot, she slapped his hands away.

“For pity’s sake, I’m fine. It was the wand; it’s obviously not a good fit for me. It might suit you though, since it’s brazen, cocky and likes to destroy things.”

Draco smirked and pulled her upright. She was angry at her reaction, and she was angry at Draco bringing her to such an unscrupulous joint. But, before she could voice said anger, the pile of stacked alley junk began to tumble.

“Shit, is your ankle going to hold out? We have to make a proper run for it, since we can’t check the bloody wands yet.” Draco was furious, at her or the situation - she didn’t know; there was no time to find out.

They made a dash for the road. Hermione watched in fascination as Draco straightened an arm out in-front of himself. It looked like he was about to salute. Three seconds later it became apparent what he was doing.

An operative from The Firm spun around the corner, wand in attack mode. Hermione gasped, then realised what Draco had done. His foresight ensured that the wizard had no time to react as Draco’s hand crashed into his windpipe. Not fatal, but he would be gasping for air for a while.

They hit the main strip, Hermione limp-hopping and Draco pulling her along as fast as he was able. Looking over her shoulder every few moments became frustrating, but she couldn’t see anyone chasing them. They must have put the majority of attackers out the back. Hermione almost shook her head in wonderment. The Firm’s operatives were much better than this.

She began to wonder if they were being let go for some reason. This was the third time they had slipped away. Franklin could have stopped them with a flick of his wand. Plus, Draco had been out of the loop for six years and she was injured. Camille also weighed heavily on her mind, was she safe, was she a part of this craziness or was she dead? No – she wouldn’t think that, yet.

“Please, Draco, we have to stop soon. My foot is literally ready to explode.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so desperate; but Draco took one look at her and hefted her onto his shoulder. Hermione grunted in surprise, then anger. Never had she been so manhandled. He certainly had the strength though.

They ran for another undignified fifteen minutes, Hermione’s face turning redder by the second. Draco stopped them by the side of a pub. As soon as her feet hit the ground; she spun on him.

“Do not, I repeat, do not ever do that to me again. You freaking picked me up like a bag of apples.”

“More like potatoes.” He grumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Hermione raised an eyebrow, rage quivering below the surface.

“Nothing. Also, no problems for saving you back there.”

“My god, you really are the biggest most full of himself, conceited prick I’ve ever had the misfortune to bloody be stuck with.” She exhaled raggedly, fury seething in every word.

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re actually pissed at me for saving you. This is bollocks, Granger.” Draco’s face was pink from the exertion he expelled due to carrying her weight. Ignoring her, he looked around; obviously searching for somewhere to go. She had the urge to tell him exactly where to go.

“No, Malfoy. What’s bollocks is the fact you haven’t told me anything about what’s happening. How you knew I was in trouble, what the deal with Franklin is - and why the hell you disappeared in the first place. That’s the problem.”

He stopped still and shut his eyes for a moment. Once again, Hermione noticed his cheek twitch nervously. What was his great secret – the one which he wouldn’t tell? She would find out, even if she had to be pleasant. She wasn’t sure she could lie that convincingly though. Making nice for a moment, she placed her hand softly on his forearm. He opened his eyes in surprise, his look wary and guarded.

“Look, I’ve got a few euros; let’s go into the pub, get a beer and hide for an hour. Then we test the wands and find Camille. It’s been almost two days and I have no idea where she is. I need a wand for a locator spell, and one of those three has to do it.”

Draco looked up and down the street for a second, and once he was satisfied no-one was following them; he led her inside the dark inn. Hermione found a booth near the back; it was close to the two exits - a back door and a window. It also had a clear view of the front door. Draco came over with two pints of larger. Not Hermione’s first choice, but it was wet and the alcohol made her inside’s warm.

After a moment or two in awkward silence, Hermione felt the need to say something, anything, but was stopped short by Draco’s soft words.

“I had no option but to leave as I did all those years ago. Believe me it was not my choice. I left Malfoy Manor in receivership, and mother was unwell.” Draco stopped for a second, Hermione didn’t push him. She knew Narcissa passed away four years previously. She had gone to the funeral, thinking Draco would show – he didn’t.

Draco took a swig of beer and looked out the window. His fingers played idly with the condensation on his glass. Hermione watched as he twirled pattern after pattern on his drink. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him, yet there was a pang of some emotion starting deep in her chest.

“It all began a week before Romania. Do you remember the job we did in Milan?” Hermione nodded. “While you were getting debriefed in the lounge, I was on the balcony. I received an owl, a strange owl, a very unusual breed.”

“You never mentioned this.” Hermione felt chagrined at his annoyed sigh.

“I’m telling you now, Granger. Can you not listen for five minutes without interrupting?” Draco raised his eyes and met hers levelly. She didn’t want to look away, it had been an age since they had just sat and talked. They used to do it all the time after a mission; she was unsettled to find she had missed it – terribly. His foot knocking hers broke the thought.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can.”

Draco gave her a wry smile and looked back out to the rainy street; his profile shadowed from the booth. “The owl brought a warning, a warning I didn’t heed. It spoke of betrayals, corruption, deaths and more Galleons than you or I could spend in six different lifetimes. It also spoke of you, and of me.”

“What! Me? Why did you get this owl? Who wanted you to know such things?”

“Granger, that’s the problem. The owl was not for me. I was never supposed to be the one to receive the letter. I knew immediately I was in deep shit.” Draco ran his hand through his hair again. Hermione noticed he only did this when frustrated, irate or had bad news. She also noticed it managed to distract her - each and every time he did it. She took a large gulp of beer so she didn’t have to watch his damp hair realign itself. “Christ, I wish a thousand times over, that I hadn’t gone out for fresh air.”

“But you did, and now here we are, running away from everyone and everything. I don’t even know whether to trust you, Draco – or to run the other way.” Hermione looked into her ale, swishing it around the sides a moment before taking another swig.

Hermione absently wondered how they looked to other patrons, two lovers having a quarrel, maybe even a terrible blind date. Never in a million years would anyone pick what was actually going on.

“I can’t force your trust, either way. But, you were always a smart girl; I think you’ll figure out which path is the right one for you.” Draco stood up and headed to the bar, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

“Oh crap.” Hermione looked out the window and watched the rain fall. She had already decided to stay with Malfoy until she found a lead on Camille. Had she also already made the decision to fight along side him to clear their names? She didn’t even need to answer that. She knew emphatically she was in deep with him – to the end. What the hell was it about Malfoy which bought out her wild side? The side which didn’t listen to reason - the side which wanted to live dangerously.

“The side, which will get me killed.” She grumbled.

Draco slid back into the booth with two new drinks. Hermione looked over at him and shook her head slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her movement.

“I hate you, you know that don’t you, Malfoy?” His lips tilted up at her words. It was something she always said to him, just before they executed one of his hair-brained schemes. It seemed fitting.

“And I you, Granger.”

They sat in silence for a few moments until Hermione couldn’t contain herself. “What did the letter say about me?”

Draco stilled, letting his hand slowly place the drink on the table. It clinked loudly in the quiet. His guarded grey eyes searched her face for a minute, Hermione watched, and waited.

“I can’t, not yet….it’s complicated.” His voice trailed off, yet his eyes stayed on hers. There was something in his face which made her hesitate before yelling at him.

Hermione moved on her seat and felt the file dig into her hip. It jolted her into awareness; she had almost forgotten its existence. She knew if they were to work together, a level of trust had to be reached. Although, at this moment she felt no great rush to give over her secrets; it seemed they were more alike than she wanted to admit. Maybe she should tell him about what Marcus had hidden in the safe house. Instead, she nodded. He looked surprised but let out a long deep breath and sat back in his chair.

“Okay, so is there anything you can tell me about?” Hermione thought she wouldn’t get a response, but she was wrong.

“How about everything you thought you knew about Franklin, is a lie.” Draco kept his eyes averted. Was he being serious? Franklin had always been obscenely nice to her.

“Elaborate…”

Draco dropped his fist to the tabletop and flexed it a few times. She could see he was struggling to tell her something. It scared her. Why was he so hesitant to tell her what he knew? “Damn it, I feel like the shitty older brother who tells his four year old sister that Santa doesn’t exist.”

Hermione let her palm hit the table, the slap noise made him look up sharply. “Malfoy, I never believed in Santa, it wasn’t logical.”

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Gods, Granger, of course you didn’t.” He shook his head and took in a deep breath. “You no longer only work for the good guys…”

Hermione frowned at Malfoy. “What do you mean?”

Draco ran his hand through his hair. Oh oh, it had to be bad. Draco watched her closely, making her feel a little intimidated. Sensing a hot flush rise in her cheeks at his scrutiny, she took another sip of beer. Damn him and his aristocratic good looks, why didn’t he ever go funny when she stared at him?

“I mean, shit….” At Hermione’s impatient groan, he sighed. “Fine, Granger. For all these years you thought you were working exclusively for a branch of the English wizarding spy association called The Firm, under the guidance of Franklin Lawson - right?” At her nod, he continued. “Well unbeknownst to you, you’ve actually been giving information to a shadow faction known only as Shade; these people are not good to get tangled up with.”

“I don’t understand; you’re talking in riddles. Shade, I’ve never even heard the name before.” Hermione’s chest felt tight and breathing became difficult as Malfoy’s words started to sink in.

“Granger, Franklin is a double agent, working against the English Wizarding Community. Which means by association so have you, since he’s your direct superior. He’s been sending you on covert operations to steal information for other governments.”

Hermione stood up and slapped Malfoy hard across the face. She didn’t even notice how he sat back and took the brunt of her hit - like he was expecting it. How dare he even say out loud, that she would betray her country - and in turn her very ethics. She would know emphatically if she was stealing sensitive information. She would…she had to know if that was happening…

“Think about it a moment. Have you ever been sent on a mission only to have the objective changed at the last minute? Have you ever wondered why you were sent all over the world for menial files, especially when there were other lower level operatives who could have done it? As far as I know, the tribunal at The Firm have no idea about Franklin’s and your involvement with Shade.”

“Freaking hell, Malfoy. I didn’t even bloody know about my involvement.” Hermione felt like she would vomit. She sat back heavily on her chair, ignoring Draco’s stare. Hermione prided herself on thinking things through; she never let her emotions run wild. Well right now she was ready to kill something, and Malfoy was the closest thing to her. But damned if she needed more information from him, when she got it - the slaying would commence.

Crap.How the hell did The Firm not pick up on a double agent within their midst? She couldn’t help but be thankful about that though, she could be sitting in Azkaban for being a traitor. Logically this was a good thing, at least now she knew the truth and could clear her name. Then she would bring justice to the bastards that did this to her. The whole situation was ludicrous, it was horrendous, and it all made sense. Something inside her still wanted to refuse it was true though. She felt a strong need to disagree and argue. Squashing these two emotions almost killed her.

“How did you know?” She ended up asking instead, tight lipped. “Oh Merlin, is Camille involved?”

“No she’s not, I think she’s innocent. And I knew, because what’s happening to you now, is exactly what happened six years ago to me. The murders, the accusations, the mark over your head – I’ve lived it. I’ve been trying to gather evidence all these years, but nothing would stick. I couldn’t get a proper lead on that bastard. ” Draco looked back out the window, the rain had eased.

“What! You knew! You knew all these years and didn’t say anything to me – to anyone?” Hermione’s voice was so loud other patrons began to look. Draco tried to quieten her down. “Don’t shush me you arrogant bastard. I’ve been the right hand woman to a damn bloody double agent for six years and you knew the whole time. I can’t believe you knew – where the hell are your ethics? Oh right, you take after your father.”

Draco’s gray eyes snapped to her livid brown ones. Hermione’s anger dissipated somewhat at the pure fury being thrown her direction. Maybe she had crossed that invisible line.

“I. Am. Nothing. Like. My. Father.” His voice was clipped and so low; Hermione almost had to strain to hear him. Then her anger responded to his, she felt a ball of energy in her chest.

“Don’t you get all high, mighty and pissed off at me, Malfoy. I have just the same right to be furious as you do. More so I think. One crack about your parentage is nothing compared to six years betraying your country. Something which could have been avoided if you bloody didn’t run scared and warned me.”

Malfoy pulled her from the booth and away from the interested stares they were receiving from the bar staff. Hermione didn’t bother to try and escape, she was too pissed off. He opened a back door, pulling her behind him. Then he threw her against the wall of the beer garden. They were getting wet again, but the damp fresh air cooled her anger – minutely.

“Enough, Granger. That’s bloody enough.” He leant in close, and her heart skipped a beat. This only stoked her anger again. “I know you’re fucking furious, but I need you to use it. I need your help to nail this bastard to the wall, to make him accountable for all the wrong he’s done. Trust me when I say to you, I will explain everything in full, when this is over.”

He was breathing hard, and Hermione could feel his movements against her own chest. Her anger turned into something else. Her traitorous body was calling to his. She knew it was adrenaline trying to use her energy for something else, but why couldn’t she pick up a random guy and get it out of her system. No – of course the Hermione Granger way was to lust after the one wizard on the planet who infuriated her more than the library trying to make her pay over-due fees.

“Trust, Malfoy, is too big of an ask at the moment.” He glanced away when she said this. Was there dismay showing in his eyes? “But, I will take your promise to tell me, if you’re willing to give that?”

“What do you think?” Draco sounded more than a little annoyed at her question. Hermione glared at him, he pretended not to notice.Pompous Arse.

“So, you’ve had six years to figure out a game plan, what is it?” Hermione needed space; he was muddling everything in her well ordered brain. She could still smell the shower gel he used. She felt a flush of arousal, damn shower fantasy. Would he be as big as she imagined? Mortified, Hermione pushed him back. He looked down at her in surprise for a second before his face hardened.

Draco stepped back away from her, she immediately felt chilled. Toughen up Hermione; you can’t have it both ways. She was finding it too hard to stay angry, she was exhausted and her ankle still hurt.

“He’s looking for something, two parts of a very important puzzle. Six years ago I thwarted him, managing to steal the very thing he wanted more than anything. Unfortunately what I had is useless by itself. Getting it cost me everything - my freedom, my family, my life.”

“What was this thing? Hang on, what do you mean had?” Draco looked sheepish, an expression she was shocked to see. Did he actually have more emotions than four? She thought, conceitedness, arrogance, disdainfulness and sinfully sexy was his repertoire.

“It was a transfigured file; but I never managed to transform it into its original form. So I hid it in the Malfoy Manor Vault – just before I disappeared.”

Hermione absently felt the file in her pocket. My god, did she actually hold the missing piece with her? If so, they could put them together, go to the authorities with the evidence and regain their lives. Hermione pushed aside the knowledge that once free, they would have nothing to do with each other. Good riddance, the sane part of her brain told her – a hot scene from her fantasy was the insane side of her brains defence. Hermione realised Draco was watching her intensely. It was now or never.

“What if I told you, I knew where this other transfigured file is? Maybe when put with the piece you stole, it will make sense.”

Draco continued to stare at her; then he stepped in closer. Merlin, was he was going to kiss her? Her heart hammered in anticipation. He leant in so close to her she could feel the tickle of his fringe on her forehead. Suddenly he grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. Hermione almost blacked out, she could feel his cock, which was slowly growing semi-hard against her. It was better than she imagined. Her lips parted and a soft moan tore from her throat. Christ, she needed this, more than anything. It seemed the nervous energy and misspent adrenaline would get used after all.

“Granger.” Draco’s voice was pure deep huskiness as his lips ghosted over hers. “Don’t lie to me.”

She jerked still. “What are you talking about?” She tried to remove herself from his embrace, but he held her tighter.

He leant in again and licked her bottom lip slowly; another gasp tore from her throat as she tried to follow him when he moved away. He chuckled in his throat. “Gods, Granger, teasing you turn’s into something bigger than A Quidditch World Cup. What I mean is this.”

As the last word left his lips he grabbed her hip again, tracing the lines of the file in her jeans. Hermione didn’t care at the moment that he knew about her secret. His fingers were perilously close to her pussy. She wriggled slightly to try and alleviate her ache.

Draco stopped his ministrations and stepped away. Hermione thankfully held in her moan of disappointment.

“I warned you before about teasing me. Remember my warning.” He walked away to gather himself. Hermione remembered his warning, she recalled it well. Even though Draco was actually the one currently teasing her, she didn’t argue the point. Her pussy throbbed just thinking about screaming his name all night. Stop it, she was acting like a lusty school girl – focus on the now, and later – buy a dildo and fantasise. It would be a hell of a lot less complicated.

“Okay, so I have the other file, let’s just go get yours from the vault. Easy as.” Her voice was still too low and sexy, she coughed.

“We can’t. Remember when I said the Manor went into receivership. Well it’s now owned by Timothy Pearson.”

Hermione groaned in disbelief. “You’re bloody kidding me, Timothy Pearson? The head of The Firm’s security detail. Great, Fort Knox would be easier to break into.”

“Actually, Granger, it might not be too bad. I grew up there - remember. Let’s find a place to stay and draw up a plan.”

Hermione nodded, and thought staying anywhere in a confined space with Draco was going to be bad. With only a small amount of trepidation and a large dose of misguided lust, she followed him out of the garden to plan their attack.

A/N: just wanted to say a very special thanks to misspancake, lemonade8 and anon for the reviews - totally made my day! :) Also to Anon - it's def not a PWP - thanks for picking up my warnings error!!
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The Spy Game