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Empire of Ants	By : crzydiamond Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9543 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the franchise. No money is being made from this story

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Enchantment

It took another month for his injuries to heal.

Draco would've been back to normal in the week Hermione had estimated if it wasn't for Neville Longbottom.

Unfortunately for Draco, the bathrooms were located on the second floor. This particular day, Granger was no where to be found so he couldn't order her to help him up the steps. He had to brave the journey himself with a sprained arm and shattered leg. It took him almost twenty minutes to make it up the flight of steps that seemed to stretch forever.

He was leaving the bathroom, freshly showered after admiring his new scars on his face in the mirror, and was positioned at the top of the stairs. And thats when Longbottom tripped over his own foot leaving his room. He bumped into Draco- the blonde had to give the ridiculous blood traitor credit for trying to catch him, but that ended up propelling Draco further down the steps.

He didn't remember the fall- only the pain as he finally landed at the foot of the stairs, his arm broken, his other wrist probably sprained, his leg broken, a gash on his forehead, and the wounds on his back bleeding profusely through the shirt Remus had reluctantly lent him.

That was how Draco spent almost another month under Granger's care.

The time with her became...bearable. They argued most of the time but she was one of the only ones in the house with an IQ higher than her age. He found that her timid personality was slowly turning back to the fiery one he detested so much in Hogwarts- though it did wonders for the guilt deep in his gut to see her return from the wraith she had been months ago.

Because Draco had nothing else to do with his time but stare at the empty expanse of purple wall across from his bed, he'd taken up reading excessively. After going through most of the interesting ones in the library, he actually read his first piece of muggle literature- Nineteen Eighty Four. It was an old copy and it belonged to Granger- she said it was a classic that most people read in something muggles called “secondary school” though he had no idea what that meant.

It was a good...well, an excellent piece of literature. He found himself willingly using something called a Webster's dictionary to look up all the ridiculous phrases or items he didn't recognize.

He would never admit to Granger that he enjoyed the book- when she came in and asked him how it was, he called it a “piece of mudblood trash”. She managed to lure him into a heated argument about the book's central themes and she left with a knowing smile that made Draco wish he had better use of his arms to throw the book straight into her face.

A month later and Draco had a slight limp that would take longer to heal, two working arms, and a back full of wounds. They were better- no longer so fresh and bloody. The skin was pink and puckered, some scabbing while the edges of others were still extremely tender. He wondered if the same whip that had been used on him was used on Granger. His wounds seemed to be healing rather quickly- hers, after six months, were only just beginning to look like his.

This would be the second day he'd be forced to assist her with brewing potions. He wasn't surprised the first day, watching her skill- the stupid mudblood had been top of the class and taught personally by Snape. It was still rather shocking to see her involved in potion making when most of the time throughout Hogwarts, she had her hand permanently attached to a book.

Draco passed Longbottom in the hallway who shrank to the side as Draco sent him a dangerous, black look. “Don't come anywhere near me,” the blonde growled threateningly. Neville carefully edged along the wall until they passed each other.

When he reached the room, Hermione was already at a cauldron, stirring slowly. Her hair was a large mass of curls, dampened by the steam escaping from the surface of the simmering liquid. Focused entirely on the potion, she failed to notice Malfoy enter the room.

Draco purposefully slammed the door shut to announce his presence, watching with a smirk as Granger jumped and spun around. “I'm here Granger.”

“Lovely,” she muttered, turning back around to the potion. “I'm working on a blood replenishing potion- you do know how to make one, right?”There was an obvious note of condescension in her voice.

“Don't confuse me with Potter or Weasley,” Draco replied icily. “I'm extremely capable of brewing potions.”

He walked over to the table full of ingredients, long fingers shifting through various roots and pickled animal body parts. His eyes stayed on her, taking in the hair stuck to her face and the quill tucked behind her ear. She had ink smudged in an arc acoss her right cheek. A scornful chuckle almost escaped him- she was so...Granger like it was ridiculous.

She suddenly swayed on her feet. It was rather strange- perhaps she needed to move her stiff joints. But after a couple more seconds it was clear to see that she was pallid and sluggish.

“The potion fumes?” Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“I've been brewing for almost eight hours straight. We need three more batches of this.”

His raised eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “Three? Granger that'll take two days!”

“We also need to make calming draught, burn healing paste, bruise healing paste and sleeping draught. We need to harvest murtlap essence.”

“Granger you can't be serious,” he said incredulously.

“I'm being dead serious,” she snapped back, suddenly switching her stirring counterclockwise. “You can begin making the third batch in that cauldron over there.”

Draco suddenly regretted not taking Prudence up on her offer- sex, albeit with an insane, seventy year old woman, was looking slightly more appealing now that he knew he'd be brewing an insane amount of potions and pastes.

She seemed to read his thoughts and said with a small smirk, “Regretting your decision Malfoy. Want to go tell Prudence that you'll be her assistant?”

“Are you making these ridiculous requests in an attempt to scare me off Granger?” Draco sneered. “I have to say I'm impressed- I didn't expect such manipulation from you.”

“Its not manipulation when you know my intentions,” Hermione shot back. “So Malfoy choose. You can work for Prudence and we won't ever have to see each other again.”

“Well when you say it that way...” he trailed off dramatically, tapping his chin with a long finger. “No,” he abruptly said, shuddering. “I couldn't stomach it. I'd have to get someone to obliviate me afterwards.”

“I could,” she offered eagerly.

“No.”

That was the end of it as Draco walked over to the cauldron and turned on the fire. He began categorizing ingredients before he realized there were some missing.

“Granger you have no Echinacea or elderberry. Or lacewing flies for that matter. Or belladonna for the sleeping draught. Or five finger grass to stop internal bleeding.”

“What?”came her shocked reply. Casting a quick statis spell on her potion, Hermione stalked over to Malfoy and saw that he was right. “Oh no,” she groaned, so overcome with frustration that she wanted to cry.

Draco glanced over at her in alarm, noticing her bottom lip was beginning to tremble and her eyes were getting glassy. Was she going to cry? He wasn't good with crying- often times he sneered and taunted others who shed tears but he never dealt with a crying person alone. He wasn't one for sympathy so crying just seemed like a ridiculous, over the top display of emotion.

“Granger you better not,” he snapped harshly, moving a step away from her.

“I won't,” she mumbled as she took a calming breath. “I haven't gotten any sleep for two days. I haven't been able to eat because we're so low on potions. And I need to get these done- if we don't have enough someone could end up dying!”

There it was, that nagging feeling of guilt again. The past two days she had spent fixing the last of his most serious injuries. She even fell asleep in his room once before he rudely awoke her with a stinging hex and ordered her to get out.

“You don't have any backup stores?”

She stalked over to a large cabinet, throwing open the doors to reveal empty shelves. “In case you haven't noticed I can't exactly walk down Diagon Alley and order ingredients! And we have no hairs to use in polyjuice.”

“Couldn't the halfblood Auror go?”

She was confused before realizing he was talking about Tonks. “Her name is Tonks, Malfoy. And no. She's too busy battling your dear colleagues.”

“I guess the only option is for you to gather them yourself,” Draco said in a bored tone.

“I've done it before. But these...I'll have to go somewhere special to get these. Most herbs I need are just common ones I could find in the muggle world but these are very different.”

“And exactly where are you planning on going?” He asked though he didn't want to hear the answer.

She sighed rubbing a hand over her tired face.

“The Forbidden Forest.”

Yes, Draco definitely should've taken Prudence up on her offer.

__________________________________________________________________________________

They apparated to the edge of the Forbidden forest one hour latter wearing dark cloaks with a charm to disguise their scents. Hermione forced Draco to hold the basket while she rushed about, looking for the ingredients.

He looked at the sun setting worriedly, wondering when the hell they would be done, Looking down into the basket, he noted that they had the belladonna and the five finger grass. The murtlap essence had to wait since they only lived on the seashore.

Granger appeared between the trees, levitating a small ball of tightly compacted lacewing flies in front of her. She dropped them in an empty bell jar and placed it in the basket.

“Poor things,” she said. “They didn't even know what was coming.”

“They're flies Granger,” Draco said irately, annoyed and a little fascinated by her ridiculous compassion towards the insects.

“That doesn't mean anything Malfoy. They were still living.” She spun on her heel, making her way through the trees.

“Granger,” he hissed, following her. “The sun is setting if you haven't noticed.”

Her eyes widened, betraying the fact that she really hadn't noticed. “Really? But I haven't found the Echinacea bark yet. Thats the most important ingredient.”

Draco's sharp eyes scanned the surrounding trees, looking for the telltale stripped bark of the Echinacea tree. He saw one almost eight meters in the distance and began walking towards it. She looked at him curiously before following.

By the time they reached the tree, fighting their way through dense undergrowth, the sun had dipped even lower beneath the horizon until just a sliver was barely visible.

Draco glanced at the disappearing light worriedly before whipping out a small, sharp knife. The bark had to be cut by hand using no magic, which was a slightly time consuming task.

“How much do we need?” he asked as he heard Hermione step up behind him.

“About half a meter of bark in length.”

Draco gritted his teeth as he forced the edge of the knife into the thick, rough bark, making linear cuts. He was halfway done when he heard Hermione's gasp of horror.

“Malfoy.”

“What?” he snapped, concentrating on peeling the bark away from the tree.

“We have a problem.”

Rolling his eyes, he asked, “And what is that exactly?”

“Look.”

Draco turned around with half of the bark in hand, placing it in the basket. He looked down at the ground where Hermione was pointing. “Some fucking mushrooms. Big deal.”

“No Malfoy. Look.”

The mocking sneer on his face fell when he realized that indeed they were mushrooms....formed in a large circle. That they unknowingly stepped right into.

“A faerie ring,” she whispered almost reverently.

“Fuck,” he said, looking around wildly. “Granger, we need to leave. Now.” He made his way to the edge of the circle but noticed that she wasn't following. She was rooted to the spot, her face flushing a deep pink as her gaze scanned the clearing. Gritting his teeth he went back over to her and roughly grabbed her arm. “Come on!”

He began dragging her but she was resisting, pulling against him wildly. “No Malfoy! I want to stay!”

Draco turned to look study her, taking in her wide, wild eyes, bared teeth, and heaving chest. She was most definitely heavily affected by the enchantment. Her fingers scrambled at his his, trying to pry herself away from his iron grip.

“No Granger. You're enchanted right now. I don't know why I'm not and you are but we need to get out of here before its-”

“-too late,”a voice like running water finished for him.

Both of them spun around to the source of the sound.

At first no one was visible but then a figure stepped out of the shadows and into the ring of mushrooms

Hermione sagged in Draco's grip, becoming limp to the point where he had to bodily support her.

“Oh Merlin,” she said.

The faerie was tall, very tall, with silver hair and piercing green eyes. Sharp ears knifed through his hair to the top of his head. His features were angular and slightly pointed but he possessed an ethereal beauty that made Hermione's breath catch in her throat. Corded muscle was visible beneath his clothing made of thin white silk.

She tried to walk towards the him but was forcefully pulled back by Draco whose narrowed eyes were focused solely on the faerie in front of them.

“We didn't mean to step into the circle,” Hermione breathed, sounding like Lavender Brown.

“Obviously,” the faerie answered with an amused smile. “You stepped into my well placed circle unknowingly- I've been watching you for quite some time.”

Draco's mouth fell open. “You've been stalking us since we got into the forest?”

“Not you,” the faerie answered with a disdainful curl of his lip. His eyes turned to Hermione and his expression immediately softened. “Her. I placed the circle around her but you stepped into it when you turned around.”

If Draco's mouth could've opened further, it would've. Hermione also blinked and a moment of clarity washed over her. “Excuse me?”

“I must say that I find you...enchanting,” the faerie said, stepping closer to them. “Watching you gather such troublesome ingredients was quite entertaining.”

Draco felt a sudden need to pull Hermione back further, blocking her behind him with his body. If anything happened to her...he didn't even want to think about it. He'd be doomed.

“Let us pass,” Draco demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

The faerie turned sharp green eyes on the blonde. “Oh I will. I have no intention of keeping you here. But only for a price. Unhand your female companion and you are free.”

Considering that Draco was immune to the enchantment of the circle, he was the only thing preventing the faerie from whisking Hermione away. The only thing keeping her rooted to the earth, to reality. The faerie could not take her without Draco's willing consent- he needed...permission.

“And what happens if I say no?” Draco sneered.

“Lets just say that I can make things very difficult for you.”

“You already have.”

“You could turn the other way,” the faerie suggested, his voice suddenly soothing and silky “Be distracted for just a moment while I take her. Look at her- see how much she desires me? How much she wants what I have to offer?”

He motioned towards Hermione who was panting, her eyes filled with such a longing that Draco felt a pang of pity for her.

“I know what'll happen,” Draco snapped. “You'd take her away. She'd be a human slave. And then when she bores you, she'll be disposed of.”

“Oh no,” the faerie answered. “That is what we capture children for. I want her as a...companion. Its been so long since I've indulged in a human.”

The overt sexual innuendo wasn't lost on Hermione who shook her head frantically, trying to clear her head.

“I could give you such pleasure,” the faerie purred in a low, deep voice. He reached out for her, brushing fingers along the soft skin of her forearm. She shivered. “I could make you forget...Hermione. I could give you everything you ever desired. ”

“How did you know my name?” Hermione questioned. “Are you inside of my head?”

“Perhaps,” he answered with a mischievous grin. “Come with me. Leave everything behind. I would dress you in silks, a different color each day. You'd eat Amortentia for breakfast and the sweetest nectar at night.”

“No,” Draco snarled, pulling on Hermione's arm as she took a step towards the faerie.

Hermione looked up at Draco with glazed, doe like eyes. “Its alright Malfoy. I can stay. You'll never have to see me again. You would no longer feel any guilt.”

He quickly realized that the words coming out of her mouth were manipulated by the faerie who was wearing a feral, predatory expression.

“You could live your life free of me Malfoy. You despise me don't you? Just let go. Thats all it'll take.”

“As tempting as that may be Granger, I can't.” He stared at her, willing her to snap out of the enchantment and see reason. But her eyes remained hollow, empty- it looked like she was placed under the Imperious curse.

He only had one choice. His fingers slid along her waist until he found her wand in the inside pocket of her cloak. The faerie didn't seem to notice the movement- his eyes were focused solely on Hermione.

“Tell him my dear. Tell him that this is what you want. Tell him that it would fill his pureblood sensibilities to leave you here. Tell him that he doesn't want another life debt to bind you two together.”

“Your argument is persuasive but not enough,” Draco drawled, grasping Hermione's wand tightly.

The faerie's face suddenly morphed into a terrifying expression, features momentarily elongated into a nightmarish visage. “You dare to defy me you petty human?”

“Stupefy!” The jet of red light hit the faerie directly in his chest, toppling him backwards. Draco tightened his grip on Granger, knowing she was going to put up a hell of a fight, and ran towards the clearing they had come from.

She fought him tooth and nail before her feet crushed the toadstools and she escaped from the magic of the circle. Breathing a large sigh of relief, Hermione looked up at Draco gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Don't start!” he snapped, breaking out into a fast sprint. “We need to go!”

Hermione struggled to keep up with his pace- being locked up at Grimmauld place hadn't allowed much exercise to build stamina. When he noticed her lagging, wheezing for breath, he wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her up and over his shoulder.

“Malfoy!”

“You run too slow. I'll be damned if I get caught by that faerie!” He knew stories of people caught after they'd incurred a faerie's wrath- he'd rather apparate in front of Voldemort and spit in his face than be caught by one of the fey.

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw a flash of silver dart through the trees behind them. At first she wasn't sure if it was a trick of the eye but its rapid movements made it exceedingly clear to here that it was the faerie in hot pursuit. “Malfoy! He's coming!”

Draco picked up speed, fervently ignoring the burning in his legs and lungs. His eyes caught sight of the edge of the forest, the field beyond the trees growing closer with each of his pounding steps.

“Malfoy hurry!” she yelled over the roaring of her heart in her ears

“Shut your mouth! I'm trying!”

He heard her scream and turned his head around to see the creature directly behind them, transformed into some sort of monster that looked like it had spawned from a nightmare. A skeletal body was covered in a dull silvery, leather like skin. The jaw was a long snout with three rows of sharp, triangular teeth, bared in a snarl. Long strands of thick, viscous saliva trailed from the jowls. There was no nose and the bloodshot eyes were bulging out of the sockets. The limbs were long and spindly with curved, sharp talons,

As he stepped over the edge of the forest, he saw a clawed hand reach out for Hermione, ripping a lock of hair from her head. Grunting he managed to throw her from his shoulder into the safety of the clearing before bursting into it himself. Relief washed over him like a calming drought and he turned to look over his shoulder at the faerie that was now prowling the edge of the forest.

It let out a high pitched scream, mouth open eerily wide, that almost made their ears bleed before dashing away into the overgrowth.

“That was bloody close,” he muttered to himself, his heart racing in his chest. He felt invigorated by the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“I wonder why the spell affected me and not you?” he heard Hermione ask from her position on the ground.

Draco rolled his eyes. Leave it to Granger to ask questions when they'd just been attacked. “Maybe he didn't like blokes.”

Her eyes suddenly brightened. “I know what it was. You were holding steel Malfoy.” She nodded towards the knife that was still in his right hand.

“Granger I could care less about why the bloody enchantment didn't work,” he said harshly. “Lets go before something else happens- it seems no matter where we are, I'm in constant peril while in your presence!”

“I didn't ask for it to follow us,” she reminded him hotly as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes.

He rolled his eyes at her lame excuse before turning to look at the forest once again. It seemed to pulsate with inherent, all encompassing breaths. He swore he could still see glimpses of silver beyond the slender trees of the boundary. He vaguely heard her gasp.

“What is it now?” Draco asked, his voice bland and tired. He suddenly felt exhausted

“Malfoy we've get to get back right now.”

“Really?” he bit out sarcastically. “I thought perhaps we should stay here for a little while, enjoy the last remnants of the sunset-”

That was when the fever set in. Draco felt like he'd been coated in a flammable liquid and set on fire. His body shook with the sudden exertion of staving off temperatures that would melt his brain in a matter of minutes.

“What. Is. Happening?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his vision beginning to grow hazy.

His legs could no longer support his body weight and he found himself involuntarily sliding to the ground. He began to loose feeling in his limbs and it was easily recognizable that his body was going into a state of paralysis.

The last thing he saw in his darkening field of vision was Granger's face.

If he could've smirked...or made a face of disgust he would've.

The damned bint was crying.

______________________________________________________________

Draco was used to waking up in pain by now.

Except this time, he wasn't greeted by Granger's face.

It was Snape.

His face was drawn and haggard, with a shadow of dark stubble along his angular jaw. His lank, black hair was pushed back behind his ears and he looked more pallid than Draco remembered.

“What the fuck?” Draco croaked incredulously from a cracked, dry throat.

“Language boy,” came Snape's sharp reply though the slight smile on his thin lips betrayed his stern countenance. “You've been through quite an ordeal. Miss Granger has been kind enough to update me on recent events.”

He turned his head slightly to see Hermione standing beside the Potions Master, her eyes bloodshot and her hair wild. “It seems that she's the cause of most of my misfortunes.”

Her mouth dropped open before she flushed angrily. “Malfoy you're own choices led you to where you are! Don't blame them on me!”

“Oh really? So it was my decision to go into the Forbidden Forest moments before sunset to gather Potions ingredients?”

Hermione bit her lip and averted her gaze. “He's going to be alright?” she directed at Snape, who was regarding Draco with obsidian eyes.

“What're you doing here?” Draco said before Snape could answer her. “I thought you were missing.”

“Obviously, I came back,” was the older man's short reply.

“Where did you go?”

“That,” said Snape as he stood and approached the door. “Is a story for another time. Or perhaps Miss Granger can tell you. If you're interested in hearing it from her.”

“Why not you?”

“I don't have time Mr. Malfoy,” Snape replied. “I have potions to brew.”

Without another word, the potions master briskly left the room.

Hermione laid a cool hand on Draco's forehead to check his temperature- surprisingly he found himself indifferent to her touch. He had to endure it enough as it was.

“What happened exactly?” he asked hoarsely.

“The faerie managed to claw you,” Hermione explained. “Apparently his talons were cloaked in a very potent venom. If I had gotten you back a minute latter, you would've been dead.”

“More wounds,” Draco said with a incredulous smirk. “Excellent.”

“Unlike your other ones, this one wasn't cursed. Snape was able to draw the venom out and the wound is already closed. We were just waiting for your fever to break.”

Hermione helped him into a sitting position before pressing a pleasantly warm bowl into his hands. He raised the bowl to his face and immediately recognized the rich scent of broth. Sighing in pleasure, he brought the rim to his lips and drank, welcoming the slightly hot fluid in his parched mouth and throat.

“You were only out for two days,” she continued, watching him eat.

Hermione then turned around to busy herself with packing up the medical supplies beside his bed. Warily, he studied her face over the rim of the bowl, noticing her puffy eyes, red cheeks, and slightly swollen lips. Either she'd just been snogged senseless or...

“Were you crying?” Draco asked with a hint of derision.

He saw the imperceptible widening of her eyes that betrayed her answer to his question. “Of course not.”

“I saw you. Before I lost consciousness. Don't lie Granger, its not very becoming of you.”

There was a pause, a silence before her shoulders slumped and she turned her head to look at him. “I felt guilty alright? You were right...I shouldn't have insisted that we go into the Forbidden Forest.”

“Apparently your Gryffindor pride still allows you to recognize your faults,” Draco sneered half heartedly.

“This is the first time that I...that I feel directly responsible Malfoy.”

He snorted. “I would argue with that assumption.”

“It wasn't my fault that you were tortured. It wasn't my fault that Ron attacked you. And it wasn't my fault that Neville accidentally pushed you down the steps.”

“Wrong Granger. It was your fault when Weasley attacked me and if you had helped me to the loo like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have been pushed down a flight of stairs!”

“Fine,” she snapped, her nose upturned indignantly. “We can agree to disagree Malfoy. Regardless, I forced you to come to the forest with me. You protested. I should've known to listen, even if it was to you, but I was so desperate to get those potions done.”

His silver eyes studied her for a moment. “You still haven't, have you?”

“Haven't what?” she asked, bewildered.

“Killed anyone.”

Hermione stiffened but remained deadly silent.

“Thats why you feel so guilty isn't it? Because you really almost got me killed this time.”

“Whether or not I killed someone isn't exactly bedside conversation,” Hermione replied coldly. “Nor is it any of your business.”

He looked at her knowingly. “I'll take that as a no then.”

“You're insufferable,” she hissed at him.

“Sorry- old habits and all that.” The satisfied look on his face emphasized the insincerity of his apology. “This is war Granger. You should rid yourself of that naivete as soon as possible to retain a semblance of sanity. Sooner or later you'll be forced to do it.”

“I don't relish that fact Malfoy,” Hermione snapped back. “Its not a milestone to celebrate.”

“It is when it means your survival.” He suddenly felt the need to rid her of the ridiculous innocence she somehow managed to hold onto through months of torture and war. “Want to hear about my first Granger?”

“No,” she bit out quickly.

“You do? How nice of you to indulge me in my storytelling.” He barreled on before she could protest. “I was sixteen Granger. Getting initiated. Part of the initiation was to battle other hopeful Deatheaters. To the death. My opponent was a boy my age from Durmstrang. I was at a disadvantage- even with an extensive family library full of books on the dark arts, I didn't know as much as a Durmstrang student.”

“He had me on my knees. Somehow I got the upper hand and managed to disarm him. I hesitated- the Dark Lord had to repeat the order for me to eliminate my opponent twice. After almost ten minutes of debate, I killed him. I was tortured by the Dark Lord for my hesitation after that. And then he made me watch- watch the other boy's mother being brought in, a hopeful look on her face that quickly turned to horror when she realized it was her son on the floor and not me. She broke out into hysterical wails and wouldn't let anyone touch his body. She was then killed by the Dark Lord for impudence...”

He trailed off, eyes unseeing as he recalled his first memory of guilt and regret. “I just thought about how that could've been me. But then I reminded myself that it wasn't. That I had won. And that I had survived. What other choice did I have?”

“Why are you telling me this?” Hermione asked, her voice hoarse.

“You seem to labor under the impression that everyone has a ridiculous thing called a choice- that everyone chooses whether or not they want to kill another. It doesn't work like that Granger. Not always. I don't relish the fact that I've killed people- but I don't regret it either. Don't be so proud just because you've yet to utter the killing curse.”

“I'm not proud Malfoy,” Hermione said defensively. “And I won't be proud when I'm forced to kill someone else. It'll be a matter of necessity- though its sad to think that human lives will be ended for such a menial concept.”

“You'll be thinking differently when you're forced to choose between killing a Deatheater or letting them kill one of your little friends.”

When Hermione spoke again, her voice was soft. “I know. I know it'll come.”

Draco was a little surprised that she didn't argue- then again, he pompously reminded himself, his logic was infallible. “You're too compassionate for your own good,” he said scoffingly. “Thats deadlier than being as inept as Longbottom with a wand.”

In complete contrast to his earlier feeling of disdain for her naivety, he actually felt himself wanting to preserve a little of Granger's innocence- it reminded him of the days when they were all relatively innocent and unaware of the horrors the world outside of Hogwarts had to offer. It was an innocence that would be wiped out with their generation- too many had seen the horrors of war to claim that innocence any longer. She was one of the few left. And he almost envied her for it.

She actually cracked a small, emotionless smile. “I know Malfoy. Isn't that how we ended up in this mess in the first place?”

“Unfortunately,” he answered with a curl of his lip.

Draco nearly jumped when she leaned over and placed a hand on his forehead again. He watched her tense face relax as her hand slid down to touch his cheek.

“You're temperature is abating rather quickly. This is good progress.”

Her warm breath wavered across the fever induced cold sweat on his brow, making him shiver involuntarily. “Granger you're invading my personal space.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Malfoy I've had to heal you for a month- your definition of personal space is irrelevant to me.”

She laid her hand on his face again- he couldn't tell if it was done out of spite or actually necessity as she seemed to record his temperature down on a chart she'd made for him. But the defiant look in her eye suggested the former.

Draco hesitated but then asked, “What happened with Snape?”

“I don't know.” A wistful look passed on her face. “He was here when we got back. He said he found what he needed. He told me to ask you about what he'd been searching for.”

A dart of surprise hit Draco in his chest- Snape had said to ask Granger about his mission. Was he being purposefully obtuse or was Granger withholding information from him? “Obviously I don't know anything Granger if I'm asking you about it.”

“What was...” she trailed off, not sure if she wanted to bring back up his past. She cleared her throat. “If you don't mind me asking, what was the artifact your father was asked to secure?”

“I don't know,” Draco answered tonelessly. But it was the truth- Lucius never told him what it was...he said it was safer that way. But it was easy enough to see where Granger was going with her questioning- obviously Snape had been after the same artifact. Whether or not he had succeeded in procuring it was yet to be seen.

“Does he have it?” he finally asked after a moment of terse silence.

“I don't know,” Hermione answered softly. “I assume the journal would've opened upon his death- so that perhaps...perhaps I could find it.”

Draco turned glacial silver eyes on the muggle-born tending to his wounds. “Why would he entrust an object Voldemort is extremely interested in to you, of all people?”

“Despite your impression Malfoy, I do have a brain in my head. Out of everyone here, I would be the only one to take Snape's word seriously.” She paused and then shook her head as if to dispel an unpleasant memory. “You should've seen them- they wanted to kill him, throw him out, when he showed up bruised and beaten.”

“That takes me completely by surprise,” Draco said sarcastically.

“You don't understand Malfoy,” she protested in a heated voice. “Without Snape, we would've had no healing potions for the first months of the war. Without Snape, we would have no information about Deatheater activity. I mean, he's downstairs brewing the blood replenishing potion right now for very people who wanted to turn him out-”

“So naïve,” Draco said, repeating his sentiments from earlier. “Snape is not honorable, brave, or selfless Granger. Stop trying to cast him as the dark, Byronic hero.”

“He is!” Her tone was vehement and her eyes glowed with a fury that he remembered from his third year very clearly. “He's done so much! And for what? To be scorned by everyone he's been fighting for! You said he wouldn't come back- that he'd run and save his own hide. Well he came back Malfoy. Now what do you have to say?”

Draco was actually left a little speechless- but most of all, she was right. A pang of jealously left him momentarily short of breath. He didn't know what he was envious of. Perhaps of Snape, a man with a dark, disturbing past that had somehow gained the complete trust of a noble Gryffindor. Draco had never had someone argue so fiercely like that for him- he was already perceived as a lost cause but somehow, somewhere, Snape had gained the possibility of redemption.

“You are a fool,” he said hoarsely.

“I trust him Malfoy.”

“Then you are even more of a fool- I've never heard of a person of decent intelligence that has openly admitted to trusting a Slytherin. Those two words are antonyms Granger.”

“Malfoy I'm not going to sit here and argue with you. Your self deprecating house philosophy isn't going to change my mind about Snape.”

“I warned you,” Draco muttered beneath his breath.

“Everyone warned me about you,” Hermione responded. “And you haven't risen to any of their horrible expectations yet.

The Slytherin scowled blackly at her disguised insult, his mind loosing focus on the hook nosed professor currently brewing potions beneath their feet.

“I guess I'll just have to try harder then, won't I?” he whispered icily into her ear as she leaned over to readjust the flat pillows.

“Why?” she asked, pulling back abruptly. “Why live up to their expectations? Don't you want to prove them wrong for once?”

He sneered, “You just don't get it do you? I don't care what they think and I don't care about their expectations. I don't care about-”

“Anyone but yourself,” she finished for him, looking suddenly years older than her age.

Draco could've sworn he heard a hint of disappointment in her voice and it made anger boil in his blood. Before he could open his mouth and spew a vitriolic comment at her, she got up and left, but not before she shot him a look he couldn't decipher.

“Good night Malfoy,” she said blandly.

Draco ignored her, and fell back heavily on the thin, hard mattress. His mind traveled back to the look on her face- for some reason, he found himself never wanting to see that look again. He didn't consider Granger a friend but there was no denying that she was...a companion of sorts. Draco quickly realized with a sick, sinking feeling that he did care a little about what she thought and the for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because she was the only one who had a little faith in him...the only one who had fought for him, no matter how undeserved it was. The only one willing to take on his caustic attitude and painstakingly heal him- though that was her job anyway.

She was the only person to show a compassion he'd never witnessed before- she had cried...for him, of all people. It angered him. It disgusted him.

And it left him a little breathless.

He didn't know, didn't want to think about Granger anymore in any other terms than a caretaker. Though somehow, over the past month and a half, she'd grown to be more than that. Even if only by a miniscule amount.

His eyes were unfocused, staring at the ceiling as memories of the unbearably intelligent, over confident Gryffindor replayed in his head. Their conversations about literature, about blood purity, about the dichotomy between good and evil...they were opposed on all accounts but for a reason unbeknownst to him, he found himself yearning to...hear what she had to say, no matter how ridiculous or idealized it was.

There was something about Granger...

There was something about her...
- 5
- 6
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Empire of Ants