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Blood on the Ground	By : pepperdoc Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 15292 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Hermione lifted her face from the Pensive dish. It had been three months since Draco had joined the Order. She put the silver thread of memory back into the vial labeled “Draco Malfoy Interview” pondering what she had just seen. She reached for her notebook and began scribbling furiously.

Draco had Flooed Severus who Flooed McGonagall who had finally relayed the message to Hermione earlier that day to inform her that he would have news that night about the Death Eaters moving base. She had wanted to review Malfoy’s motivations for joining the Order in case anyone questioned his loyalty. It often happened during the meetings now; someone would question the truth of his reports. If it came up again tonight she would be prepared.

She had a suspicion that Ron was convincing people that Malfoy’s reports were incorrect. Ron was known for making rash decisions where Malfoy was concerned. After the Lavender Brown relationship, it seemed like Ron wanted to be with Hermione. She had a crush on him for so long, it was like a dream come true. She had ended the relationship after the second time they had made love. She thought back to it with disgust. He treated her like a china doll. As though if he put any passion into the act he would certainly hurt her.

Malfoy would never treat me so delicately… she thought, writing about his father absently. She thought about the intervening months between the pensive she just saw and now. There had been many heated arguments between her and Draco- Malfoy, damnit. She stopped writing and looked at the wall, thinking of how his face would change so drastically whenever she contradicted him on anything. His unconscious eyebrow raise whenever she addressed him formally as required during meetings. She wondered if he would want to be called that during … It is not conducive to their working relationship to be thinking of him this way, she berated herself. Stop!

She shook her head, her long curls dancing around her face as she shook herself into a working mindset. I do NOT have a crush on MALFOY!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Later that evening ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Hermione was mentally preparing herself for the meeting at hand, going over how people reacted to Malfoy being in the room while walking down the hall towards the dining room. She convinced herself that it was because Malfoy always seemed to be the center of arguments and she was merely preparing for the inevitable.

Ron fumed silently whenever Malfoy was in the same house as him. Hermione believed it was mostly because Ron’s last attempt to get them together had failed so spectacularly Ron may think Hermione had a crush on Malfoy. Really, Hermione thought of Ron as a lap dog. He was nice to have around sometimes when she was lonely, and would always be loyal to her. She didn’t want a lap dog. What she wanted- no, needed- was someone who could challenge her. Who wouldn’t fear her rage. When Hermione and Ron argued, Hermione was always the one in control of the conversation. She lectured him, he would sulk and bend to her will, without putting up any fight. The only thing he ever showed real passion for was his jealousy.

She forced herself to stop thinking of these things as she entered the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place. She saw that the majority of the members required for the meeting were present already. She sat next to Harry with a comfortable smile to him in greeting, he glanced at her while still talking to Tonks and gave her a distracted ‘Hullo,” between his sentences. Hermione listened for a second, determined they were talking about Lupin’s upcoming change, lost interest. She scanned the room, mentally noting who was yet to arrive. Malfoy, Moody, the Weasleys (always late, she thought with a frown), and even Kingsley Shacklebolt was expected to arrive for this one. She allowed herself to slip into thoughts of Draco again.

As though her thoughts conjured him, Malfoy arrived with Moody, the latter still under the effects of Polyjuice potion to make himself look like a tall, thin, and dark-haired man. Both were dressed in their Death Eater attire, and quickly took them off with nearly identical looks of disgust as Hermione watched them enter the room. The masks clattered into a cupboard followed by the robes. They were in the middle of a conversation about lax security measures within the Death Eaters hideout, whichever they had just been to. Hermione caught Draco saying “… My house after all, of course they wouldn’t…” before his voice lowered slightly and was lost amongst the other conversations around her.

She continued her train of thought. Malfoy had also quickly become friends with his cousin Tonks, having never really had much time with her as a child. Lupin was slowly learning to trust the young blonde.

Harry was learning to respect Malfoy, but was often outwardly insulting of him. Malfoy had realized the normal contempt was going early on and took the jabs Harry sent his way with good humor, and insulted him back. Their insults revolved around their own actions, never their families. It was interesting to see, really, Harry hated the elder Malfoy, but when Draco was in the room would carefully avoid the topic. They would insult each other’s seeker techniques, grades, friends, etc. always with an air of humor, and they often laughed at the insults the other would throw at them. Ron never seemed to notice they were not being serious and would often scowl at Malfoy whenever he spoke to Harry.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley surprised everyone by openly accepting the boy. They cared for him as a son, on equal footing with Ron. This caused Ron to dislike Malfoy even more than he had previously. Ron’s insecurities about his accomplishments and importance in the lives of others seemed to Hermione to be the reason for this dislike. Predictable was the word which often followed this train of thought in Hermione’s head.

The arrival of the Weasleys interrupted her thoughts, as everyone stopped their conversations to greet the redheads. Molly asked in general if anyone needed something to eat as she walked into the room. After a general consensus of yes she walked around kissing everyone on the forehead while greeting them.

When she got to Hermione, she asked how the younger girl was faring alone in the house. “Fine, Mrs. Weasley, just lonely. Do you need help in the kitchen?”

“No, no, dear. No need, enjoy the company while it lasts.”

Molly came to Draco who wrapped his long arms around the plump woman and kissed the crown of her head. “What a wonderful sight you are, Mrs. Weasley,” he said as he hugged her.

“Ah, Draco, you only love me for my food,” she jested before moving on to the door to the kitchen.

Malfoy smirked as she went. The room began conversations anew, Ron stood behind Tonks and joined in the conversation with her and Harry, Arthur stood by Draco and Moody, talking about whatever security measures were lacking. Moody began to change into his normal form as they spoke. Ginny sat in one of the chairs near Harry, and listened attentively to Harry as he told some story Hermione didn’t listen to.

Kingsley showed up last, with Lupin much to Tonks’ delight, just as Molly was levitating the meal into the room. All sat and began to tuck in. There were animated conversations all around her, but Hermione was again thinking of Draco.

Hermione’s… subconscious lusted after him. She dreamed of him nearly every night. His haughty expressions, and that damn smirk, those piercing eyes, all of the private moments between them fed into her lustful dreams of what they might be like… if things could have been different.

The conversations around her surged onward, Hermione barely listened other to allow her mind to snag on relevant topics. Outwardly, she seemed to be paying attention, she laughed when everyone else did, and she followed the conversation with her eyes, looking at each speaker. It was not hard to hide what she was thinking, not when one had been doing these tricks for so long.

Inwardly, she thought about the dream she’d had that morning. In the dream, Draco’s lips were slowly caressing her inner thighs working their way towards her core, his fingers already pumping within her. She had woken, overheated and panting in need. Her own dreamed moans were more interesting that these boring conversations around her.

Draco was speaking, her eyes were upon him, and he glanced at her as he finished a joke, his smirk pointed directly at her. She laughed, only because everyone else did, she had no idea what he had just said.

After dinner was cleared, Hermione cleared her mind. She stood. “Alright everyone, let’s get down to business. Reports on the Death Eaters suggest they are growing overconfident. Several of them have even been spotted during raids and as reported to us, are not bothering to cover their faces any longer. With Dumbledore gone, they seem to think they have no reason to be afraid. Professor Moody or Mr. Malfoy, I believe you have information related to this topic, if either of you would like to tell us what new developments you have to offer.”

Draco stood as Hermione sat. She conjured a piece of parchment and prepared herself to note things of import. “Thank you, Miss Granger. We do have some issues to discuss. During the most recent Death Eater meeting, there were a surprising number of security flaws. Moody was disguised as a complete stranger, and no one questioned it. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named only cares about the capture of one Boy-Who-Lived, and other than that has handed over all security to the Lestrange’s. The orders for the raids seem to be coming from the whims of whoever can make a pretty speech, and the strategy which we had previously been worried about has not been mentioned in recent days.”

She lifted her quill slightly pointing the tip of the feather at him, “You mean the one in regards to the giants?”

“Yes, Miss Granger, I do.” His gaze matched hers perfectly, both businesslike masks.

“That does seem troubling. Please continue, Mr. Malfoy.”

“I also would like to inform you all that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named will soon be travelling from my family’s Manor to a summer home soon. The dungeons are being emptied, and I have instructed the elves to try to save as many as they can without endangering themselves. I have been informed that there is a small herd of centaurs, some hippogriffs and a few Muggle children who are being held captive, which the elves think they may be able to release without arousing suspicion. At this time, I will ask Mr. Potter if 12 Grimmauld Place will have a room available to tend to the children at least before we return them to their families?”

Harry looked troubled. “Muggle children, you said?”

“I did, indeed, Mr. Potter.” Draco’s eyebrow rose.

“How would we know where their families are?” Harry asked the room.

Shacklebolt stood, leaning over the table slightly to be able to look Harry in the eye as he spoke, “We have records I can access without leaving trace which show the reports of Muggle children who have been reported missing in or around the areas of Death Eater attacks. I keep them in my office at the ministry, in case we find some Muggle children.”

Harry smiled, “Good thinking, Kingsley.” He turned to Hermione, saw she was frowning at him, remembered what he did wrong, and said to Kingsley, “Beg pardon, Mr. Shacklebolt, I addressed you incorrectly.” Kingsley nodded with a grin. Harry turned back to Hermione and said, “Would it be too difficult on you to care for Muggle children on your own, Miss Granger?”

Before she could answer, Draco again spoke, “I apologize, Miss Granger, for the interruption, but I would gladly help if you need it.”

Mrs. Weasley also piped up, “I will also assist you Miss Granger, should you need any assistance.”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, I believe I can manage the children with the help of Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley, as they have so graciously offered.”

“Very well, with some assistance on the proper charms, I believe we may be able to help all the members of the dungeon evacuees. Mr. Malfoy, when can we begin to expect arrivals?”

“The move of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named should be occurring within 4 days, and the elves suspect these children and magical creatures specifically have been forgotten in the haste to move. I believe my personal servant will better answer the question if I may be allowed to summon her?” He asked politely.

Hermione looked to see if there was any face present which seemed to say no. Ron was the one specifically she expected to deny the request, but he seemed to not be paying attention to the conversation at all. “As there seems to be no one opposed to the idea, Mr. Malfoy, please call her.”

“Abeille,” Draco said with a snap of his fingers. The elf popped onto the floor below the table.

“Master Malfoy,” She said softly.

“Abeille, will you please stand on the table so everyone may see you?” Draco asked kindly.

“Yes, Master Malfoy,” They heard two quick pops, and she stood on the table in front of him facing away from him. Hermione was surprised to see she was wearing a dark green shift and a small purple hat between her ears. On her feet were garish yellow polka-dotted socks.

“Now, Abeille, please tell us when and how you and the other elves think you will be able to move the magical creatures and Muggle children from the dungeons.”

“Abeille and the other elveses thinks we can move them the afternoon after the evil man leaves. Hes thinks they are dead already from starving, but three elveses has been caring for them in secret. Abeille only trusts two other elveses in the Master’s Manor, Pivoine and Triste. Theys are Master Malfoy’s other secret free elveses.”

Hermione was astonished that Malfoy had not just one free elf, but three that he kept in secret. She made a mental note to ask him about it one day. “Abeille, will you answer a few questions for me?” She asked the little elf.

“If Master Malfoy thinks its ok for Abeille to answers then she will Miss.”

“Abeille, this is Miss Granger, you may answer her questions fully and without reservation. There are no secrets from Miss Granger, understand?” Draco said with great gentleness.

Everyone in the room looked surprised at what Malfoy had said, none more so than the little elf in question who turned and stared at him in surprise. “Miss Granger?”

“You know who I am Abeille?” Hermione asked.

“Master Malfoy has spoke of you often,” The elf said as she turned back slowly to face Hermione. She bowed and said, “But Abeille don’t thinks that’s what you want to ask her,” With a smile.

The room chuckled at the brazenness of the little elf on the table. Hermione grinned at the cheeky remark, and answered, “You’re right Abeille, I was just surprised. Ok, how long have you been a free elf?”

“Abeille has been free for 2 years. Master Malfoy gave her a hat,” She patted the purple hat on her head, “and tolds me Abeille was a good elf for his whole life. He said Abeille could leave if she wanted, but he would miss his favorite elf,” Her large eyes filled with tears at the memory. “But Abeille says ‘No! Abeille loves her master! Abeille will do anything he needs! Abeille will keep all his secrets!’” She started sniffling and practically wailed out the last bit through her tears, “Master Malfoy is the kindest Master any Elf ever had! Abeille would die if she were away from him!”

Draco’s hand took hers from behind, his face showing so much more emotion than Hermione had ever seen on it. His mask was completely gone from his aristocratic features, and even he looked on the verge of tears from the elf’s outburst. Abeille turned and kissed his hand while she settled her tears. Hermione could see him murmuring to the elf, trying to calm her, Hermione was sure. Hermione glanced at the people in the room, seeing that they were all deeply moved by the situation before them. Even Ron’s face showed a little sympathy for the little elf.

Abeille wiped her face on a handkerchief she got from Arthur Weasley, seated to Draco’s left. “Abeille sorry, Miss Granger. All better now.” She took the handkerchief from her face, snapped her fingers to clean it and handed it back to Mr. Weasley, with quiet thanks.

“Abeille, do the other people who live in the Malfoy Manor know you and the other two are there?” Hermione asked gently, unsure of how the elf would respond.

“No, Miss Granger, Abeille, Pivoine, and Triste stays secret. We live in Master Malfoy’s secret room.”

“What will you do when the creatures and Muggles are moved here?”

“Abeille, Pivoine, and Triste can stay at the manor if Master Malfoy doesn’t want us to live with him anymore.” She said sadly.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you leaving the Manor?” Harry asked from Hermione’s left.

“When He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named moves, with my father in prison and my mother missing, I had intended to ask if I might stay here until school starts again. Abeille is skipping past the asking stage is all.” His tone was bemused. “So I will not. Mr. Potter, and all other Order Members, may I come live here for a period of time which has not exactly been determined?”

Harry smiled slightly, “Vote, then, Miss Granger?”

Hermione said, “Yes, Mr. Potter. Ayes?” Everyone except Ron voted ‘Aye’. She asked, “Nays?” Ron angrily raised his hand, his face red from suppressed rage. “The aye’s have it. Mr. Malfoy, you may move in once He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named moves and with the creatures. The elves are welcome also, if you desire them here. They can help with the creatures soon to move in.”

“Very well. Abeille, go back to the secret room and tell Pivoine and Triste the plan. Make sure that it is kept a secret from everyone, even the children and creatures you have been caring for. They are not safe yet and must not know what is coming. Also, before transporting them, be sure to check them all for any potential spells or potions that someone might use to hide among them. This includes any form of trace. This place is an absolute secret. You do not need to tell Pivoine and Triste where you went exactly. All three of you will move here along with the captives, got it?”

“Abeille got it. Thank you Master.” She bowed and then popped out of the room.

Hermione stood. “Any other business for tonight?”

Ron raised many loud objections to Draco staying with Hermione, and was hexed silent by Moody. “Boy, if you cannot follow some simple rules concerning decency, you’re not allowed to speak.”

“On that note, meeting adjourned.” Hermione said as she stood and began to gather her things.

Malfoy sauntered up to her, “Can I talk to you, Granger?”

She glanced up at him, “Yes, I have to run to the library, can you walk and talk?”

His eyebrow raised and he smirked at her, “Believe it or not, Granger, I am capable of doing more than one thing at a time.”

She rolled her eyes as she turned towards the door. “That certainly is a surprise.” She said.

“Do you mean it is within the realm of possibility for little Miss Granger to not know something?” He asked with mock astonishment.

She paused with her hand on the door and looked at him before answering, “Yes. Now were you just going to follow me around and be sarcastic, or do you actually have something on your mind?”

He bowed slightly and held his hand towards the door indicating she should precede him into the hall. She opened the door and walked out, trying to not be angry at him.

“Just playing the part, Granger. I do have a reputation to uphold. Plus, there is the added benefit of you having to lie to your boyfriend-” He spat this word out like it disgusted him, “About how much you dislike me.”

“Hmm… fishing for complements and trying to trick me into giving you information. That was far too see-through for a double agent. I hope you don’t lead conversations like this around the Death Eaters.”

“You forgot the power-play at the beginning, Granger. Your distractions are making you slow.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

They had reached the library, located at the back of the house. It was a stuffy and overly warm room with tons of books and only one chair. When Hermione moved into the house, she had spent a sweaty morning trying to move the dusty chair to be next to the window, but she wasn’t strong enough and so had to leave it in the middle of the floor.

This room was not one which she could use magic in. It was filled with all sorts of books from all over the world, and no one knew if any of them had curses on them. No one even knew what kind of wards and spells might be in the room. She just dealt with it and complained about it in her head whenever she went into the room.

“This is a Black house, right?” He asked after looking around.

She looked at him for a second and said, “Yes, Why?”

“De pulverem, fenestrae apertae, ventulus.” He said with a hand gesture.

The dust in the room vanished, the windows she had thought were nailed shut opened, and there was suddenly a breeze in the room. She looked at him with astonishment.

“My mother is a member of the Black family. Sirius couldn’t do anything in this room since he was disowned. Tonks is probably in the same boat if she ever tried it.” He had that bored look on his face and an equally bored tone of voice while he said this.

“Thanks,” She whispered.

He shrugged. “Now to business. Only one chair? Do you mind another?”

She waved her hand as if to say ‘Do what you want’, as she sat down.

“If we are to live in the same house, I think it may be beneficial to discuss some things first.” He looked like he was trying to remember something, “Oh, that’s it, cathedra,” he waved his hand again. A leather armchair popped up next to him. He sat while unbuttoning his jacket.

She waited for him to sit before saying, “Is this the part where you tell me when you demand your breakfast at 9 A.M. and tell me how you like your coffee?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

He smirked, “No, the elves will attend to that. Before you start giving me a lecture on their proper respect and all that bullocks, they do it because they love me and because I pay them. I was thinking smaller things. But before that, did Sirius leave Potter he house?”

“Yes.”

“How do you get your mail?”

“It’s sent to the Burrow, the Weasley household, and they bring it with them when they come to the meetings.”

“I suppose I’ll do the same with Severus.”

“Will no one think it’s odd you’re staying with him?” She tried to remember where Snape lived during the summer and couldn’t.

“No, he is my godfather, it would be appropriate.”

“Why are you not actually staying with him? And why are you not staying at your family’s castle?”

“Manor, and because I’m not head of household yet. The house doesn’t recognize me the way it does my father. The wards track my movements, including apparition. I have to side-along when I come here. We were lucky my father wasn’t arrested before, or the snake-face would know where we are now.”

She thought for a moment, ignoring his evasion of her first question, “You mean, when your father is not in the Manor, the wards track you?”

“Not quite. Part of the process of the head of a household going to Azkaban is their heir has to be found at a moment’s notice. The wards of the household are activated by a spell and the heir is tracked from that point forward. The loophole is that side-along apparition can’t be traced by this.”

“So you’re trying to figure out how to get in and out of here without anyone being able to track you?”

“Indeed, Miss Granger, 10 points to Gryffindor.” He said sarcastically.

She smiled wryly, “OK, so Portkey, Elf transport, broomstick, all out of the question because it’s noticeably different from what you were doing previously?”

He leaned forward slightly, “Yes.” He said simply, but there was certain intensity on his face as he said it.

“And of course the Floo is out of the question…” She continued, thinking aloud.

“Indeed.”

“What about breaking the trace, how would that happen?” She asked.

“Two ways, from what I know. Disinheriting and … My father being released from prison.” He finished.

“Well, the first would not be a good action… How long is your father in for?”

“75 years.” He answered.

“Wait. I’ve just thought of something!” She bounded out of her chair and down one of the library’s aisles. She came back with a thick book in her hand and was flipping through the pages quickly. “I know it’s here somewhere…” She was muttering to herself. “Oh here! Look,” she handed him the book, leaning over his shoulder to point to the page. She suddenly became aware of his scent, and stepped back.

He read slowly, “An heir may object to the trace in the case of extreme circumstances, or if the father’s actions have put him at risk…” He looked at Hermione with surprise. “Where…?”

“Oh, I was bored, so I started reading.” She stepped back to his shoulder and flipped the cover back over, “Black Family Contractual Agreements. I think the one you are reading was the contract between your parents.” She gingerly flipped the book back open and turned a few pages back to the first page of the contract. “Yep. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. I think you can even be put into your godfather’s care if they are missing, and the trace is nullified. There’s your reason for staying with Snape, you’re just following the rules.” She stepped back to her chair and sat back down, looking smug.

Draco was still astonished. “You…” He seemed at a loss for words, and Hermione covered her grin.

“Yes, Malfoy. Me…?”

His face changed quickly, his regular smug look took over his astonishment, “You have just proven how much of a geek you are. Who gets bored and starts reading contracts?”

“Oh, no Malfoy, you don’t get off that easy, say ‘thank you’ and be on your way with your knowledge of my brilliance.”

“Bollocks. You got lucky, admit it.”

“Yes I did, now thank me for it.”

He stood and turned, the book still in his hands, “Later, Granger.” He called over his shoulder as he left the library.

She scowled at the door.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A/N: The elves names are French- Abeille is ‘Bee’, Pivoine is ‘Peony’, and Triste is ‘Sad’ (in English we would say someone feels blue, and it’s that kind of sad). Just made up names, you know? Anyway, is anyone picking up on how much I don’t like Ron yet? I really don’t like him.

The Latin phrases are- de pulverem- dust out, fenestrae apertae- windows open, ventulus- breeze, and cathedra- armchair

I know I said I would do the structure with the whole chapter in one POV, but this next one, I’m gonna do all three intermingled, cause I’m having fun doing it that way. Plus, I’m bored with the pair not being together yet, so the next chapter should move them closer.

Thanks for reading! Please review!
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Blood on the Ground