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The Spy Game	By : kstargal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 8721 -:- 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 stood in-front of her opponent, sizing up exactly where to strike next. Feigning to the left then spinning around to her right, she jumped high and caught them on the chest with the back of her foot. Adrenaline kept her going, and she hunched down sweeping her leg around in a wide arc. The dummy fell to the floor with a resounding ‘whack’. Hermione stood up and looked around the gym; it was early – too early. Sleep was never going to come, so Hermione decided to slip down to the local gym and use some of her nervous energy. The wand she had taken from the guard had proved adequate at healing; plus, it was too late in the game to feel bad for using a stolen wand.

It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself sweating out all emotions caused by Draco Malfoy. Six years previously after being released from Azkaban, Hermione had joined a gym. It was the only thing which kept her sane. She could lose herself in structured classes, or egg herself on to lift more weights. There was no thinking involved, just doing.

Picking up her sodden towel, Hermione headed to the punching bag. She was exhausted, yet knew sleep would still elude her if she returned to Poppy’s. Lifting her damp tank-top away from her skin a second, she guzzled a bottle of water; then took up a stance.

As she pounded away at the black bag, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on between Draco and Franklin. Were they working together? Hermione instantly knew they weren’t – why she was so certain when everything else seemed to be unsure – she couldn’t say. Just if she looked at it logically it didn’t seem feasible. She had somehow begun to lose sight of logic in this whole debacle. It was one of the only things in her life which didn’t let her down – her brains ability to work things out. If she thought back onto the previous night, it felt almost as if Franklin was trying to goad Draco into snapping – not imply they were working together.

So, if they weren’t working together, why did Malfoy kidnap Camille and kill…Hermione couldn’t even finish the thought. This in turn made her feel like a child – if she didn’t say it - it wouldn’t be true. One thing was certain though; Draco’s hatred for Franklin. She felt it burn through the room. On the heels of these thoughts came the one she didn’t want; what had happened after she left the fight? Was Franklin still alive, was Draco hurt? She didn’t like the traitorous way her stomach heaved at the thought of Draco injured.

Hermione dropped her hands from the bag, and leant into its hardness, letting it take her weight. How did things go so horribly wrong? How did she allow herself to get into this situation in the first place? And how much of what Draco told her was lies?

Punching into the bag one last time, Hermione walked over to her belongings and sat up against the wall for a minute, trying to cool down and gain some much needed clarity.

What did she know in all certainty? For one, Franklin was a double agent and was using her unwittingly to steal information for Shade, a corporation she’d never heard of. Two, she was most certainly on the run, from who she wasn’t too sure about. Originally she thought the entire force of The Firm were after her. Since then, only a few strange wizards along with Franklin and Timothy were the only stand outs. So who exactly was she running from? And three, Draco most certainly had the file from the hotel room.

She also knew that Draco was a lying scumbag who didn’t deserve a second thought, yet he always managed to get a third and fourth thought spent on him. Hermione sighed exasperatedly; was he really capable of killing Marcus - a boy he went to Hogwarts with, and someone whom he’d stayed mates with afterwards. It seemed wrong; the whole scenario seemed off somehow.

Also, why would Draco help her escape? He couldn’t have known for certain she had the file in the first place. It was a pretty big gamble on his behalf if that was the case. He could have overpowered her at any stage to obtain what he wanted. Draco also appeared earnest in helping her clear both of their names; sounding almost wistful when speaking of being free and not on the run.

Hermione didn’t want to think anymore, it wasn’t getting her anywhere except creating more questions. Although one scene from the previous night haunted her, Draco’s pleading eyes and his whispered ‘trust me’. Her chest clenched slightly at the thought she may have misjudged him. But how could she though; when the truth and lies seemed to be all tangled in the same web of deceit?

“Hermione.” Camille’s voice broke her circling thoughts, and she rose from the wall. “Working out again, what’s wrong?”

Hermione had no idea where to start; she had to fill Camille in on what had happened over the last week. The task seemed monumental, so she decided to tell the short version - the one which just happened to leave out anything to do with feelings for Malfoy.

“Let’s grab a coffee.”

Camille shook her head and smiled. “Hermione, your love affair with caffeine; will keep you up all night.”

Hermione knew it wasn’t the coffee which made her sleepless, it was Draco Malfoy. He had been creating sleepless nights for years now, and somehow she knew it wasn’t over yet.

An hour and a half, three coffees and two chocolate éclairs later, Camille sat in-front of Hermione wide-eyed. Draining the last dregs in her glass, Hermione waited for it to all process.

“Wait a minute, are you trying to tell me, Draco killed Marcus for some file?” Hermione nodded. “No way, just - no way, Hermione. I might have only known Draco for a few months before he disappeared off the grid, but - no way. Marcus and he were great friends.”

“Don’t forget, Cam, the reason he was on the run in the first place, is because he was accused of murdering those operatives in Romania.”

“Bullshit, I never believe that in the first place. He was set up; he wouldn’t be the first person to take a bullet for political gain.”

Camille’s blunt response surprised Hermione. She had no idea her partner thought that way. To be honest, she had no idea what Camille thought about the entire Draco Malfoy saga. Hermione had refused to speak of Draco when they had first been paired off. Camille had never pushed or asked any questions, so it was interesting to find out she was on Draco’s side. It also made her wonder who else at The Firm thought the charges were bogus.

“Well even if he is innocent over Romania, what about kidnapping you? He pretty much admitted it.” Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral, but the hurt was evident to anyone who knew her.

Camille looked at her long and hard, until she felt the need to squirm. “You like him, don’t you? I mean - really like him.”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment before replying. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, Cam. What he’s done is unforgivable. Not only did I trust him once, I made the same bloody mistake again. He must be laughing at the gullible witch Granger.”

“No, Hermione, I don’t think he would be. Look, he told you to trust him, so maybe you should trust him. Merlin, I’m not sure where I should start after that story. So here goes - I wasn’t taken from the house like you were led to believe. And I was definitely not kidnapped by Draco – though he sort of led me to be kidnapped.” Inhaling deeply, Camille continued, oblivious to the shock plastered on Hermione’s face. “I was grabbed from behind when I raced outside; at first I couldn’t see who it was. But before I could react, they’d put a compulsion spell on me. One I wasn’t strong enough to break.”

“Compulsion spells are illegal.” Hermione shook her head in stupidity, hell, almost everything she’d seen and done in the last few days was illegal. “Ignore that.”

Camille smiled before continuing. “The spell gave me a ridiculously strong urge to run back to our train and escape in it. It compelled me not to be seen, to stay safe, and hide for a few days until further instructions came via an owl.”

“So what happened?” Curiosity got the better of Hermione, and she had to interrupt – she was never patient enough.

“As you could imagine – I was scared out of my brain – who had cast this spell, why and what did it have to do with Marcus and Isabelle’s deaths? All I could do was scream your name. Then Draco was on me – whispering I was going to be okay – that nothing would hurt me – and that he would keep you safe. After knowing all was well – the spell kicked in for earnest and I ran for the train. As much as I wanted to wait for you – I couldn’t. I instantly knew Draco was the one who cast the spell on me.” Camille stopped to take the last bite of her éclair. It was a miracle Hermione didn’t kick her under the table to hurry her story along. Instead, she sat back heavily on the soft cushioning the café chairs provided.

Once again, Hermione found herself impressed with the level of Draco’s spell-casting. As quickly as she felt it, she pushed it down again. She had to stay relatively impartial – it was difficult.

Before she spoke again, Camille held her hand up, indicating for another coffee. Hermione was already buzzing from lack of sleep, too much exercise and too many coffees. Yet, she still inclined her head for a chai latte.

“Anyway, I made it to our train, and was just about to leave, when Franklin grabbed me. He’d obviously been waiting for us the whole time. I was so relieved to see him. Yet he was furious when he realised you weren’t coming aboard too. I was just confused by that point as to why he was angry. See the compulsion spell was still at work – and I was meant to remain unseen – I was at war with myself. Franklin only kept muttering about spells and plans and didn’t see my distress. When I finally managed to ask him what he was on about….well suffice to say – I woke up free of compulsion and at the mercy of one pissed off Timothy. The bastards never asked me anything – never eluded to why they had me. They just came in every hour on the hour to rough me up. I didn’t sleep – I didn’t eat much. I’ve never been so helpless. One thing I know for sure though is Draco wasn’t part of their plan to kidnap me – maybe you misunderstood what he said in regards to my disappearance.”

Hermione waited while the waitress placed their hot beverages in-front of them before saying anything.

“Well, he didn’t actually admit anything I guess – he just sort of yelled at Franklin about it.”

Camille did a perfect impression of Hermione’s one eyebrow raise. “Are you telling me that you jumped to a bloody conclusion? Hermione you fool – you always do this.”

“Fine, I’m an idiot. But only because I can’t understand why Draco would do that to you, I mean the compulsion spell. What difference did it make if you were around, why get you out of the way? I was bloody frantic.” Hermione was more mumbling out loud than directing her questions to Camille, so she missed the look of compassion on her friends face. “If Draco had some form of grand plan, why not share it with me? Why be so deceitful?”

Camille took a moment before answering, stirring three sugars into her drink. Hermione almost slapped her hand away. How Camille managed to drink coffee when it was sweetened to within an inch of its life was a mystery. Camille took a sip and grimaced slightly. “Who knows, Hermione, would you have believed the truth if he’d said it? Not bloody likely. You two were always snarky with each other, always trying to out-do the other. He probably got frustrated at your stubborn ways, and wanted to be the know-it-all for once.”

Hermione spluttered. “Stubborn…”

“Yes, stubborn. I love you to pieces, but you do have control issues.” Camille was grinning broadly by now. Hermione almost regretted healing Camille’s wounds, she deserved a little pain.

Hermione sat back and thought about it all for a second. Camille was right, if he had just blurted out what was happening; she would have smacked him in the head, called him freaking insane and arrested him – well try to anyway.

“So what do we do now? If you’re still wanted for the murders, we need to clear your name. Which technically should be easy; I’m your alibi. I was with you the two days leading up to finding Isabelle and Marcus. They can’t disregard evidence like that.”

“Not unless they frame you too.” Hermione pointed out.

Camille scrunched her nose up. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. A week ago I would have said it wasn’t possible, but if what you say is all true, who do we trust?”

Hermione shook her head in bewilderment and shrugged. “I have no idea. At the moment I only trust two people - you and me. Plus, even if we do clear my name of the murders, I’m still a traitor. I need to find out who this Shade Corporation is, and how Franklin’s involved - then un-involve myself from them.”

“How do we do that?”

Taking in a deep breath, she hoped Camille would at least hear her out. “We break into The Firm and hopefully find something in Franklin’s office to incriminate him - or clear me. It’s a sketchy plan at best. Actually it’s not even a plan at all yet.”

Camille whistled long and low. “When you want to take on a mission, you certainly aim for the stars. It will be near on impossible for just the two of us.”

“Are you saying I’m doing this alone?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at Camille.

“Hell no, after the beatings I received from Timothy and his goons. I’m all for some arse kicking. When do we leave?”

Hermione looked at her watch, trying not to show relief that Camille was with her on this pretty much unachievable mission. “Give me an hour to get supplies then we’ll Apparate.”

Two hours later, Hermione and Camille were in position - by breaking into the building opposite to The Firms headquarters. They were now sitting at a window on the twenty fifth floor; looking across the wide gap through high powered binoculars. There was not a lot of movement to the naked eye, but Hermione knew from experience that a hefty guard duty worked the night shift.

Naturally, The Firm had all wands tuned into their magic network, and only after you sign in at the front desk would your wand work within its walls. Hermione and Camille were not about to ask permission. Therefore, they would have to do it the old fashioned way – break in like cat-burglars and use their wits.

Looking at all the hardware sitting around her, Hermione hoped she’d thought of every scenario. They would use a harpoon with a rope attached to launch a tightrope between the two buildings. Since they were so high up, hopefully they wouldn’t be seen. Their position would allow them access to the smoker’s balcony on The Firms building. Hermione loathed the filthy habit, but was glad now that they had installed the small space for the few witches and wizards who had taken it up. It was the perfect weakness in The Firms defence.

“Ready?” Camille nodded back in response and pulled a night vision mask on. She looked alien, yet Hermione knew she looked no different as she pulled hers on.

Lining up the shot, Camille managed to hit the exact spot. Pulling the ropes tight and tying them down, she motioned to Hermione it was safe to cross. Now - Hermione wasn’t afraid of heights, not at all. Well, not when a parachute was attached to your back or a rope to your feet. She was sliding across a huge drop, with nothing but her grip ensuring she didn’t fall. It didn’t inspire too much confidence.

Hooking her legs over the top and gripping the rope in her hands, she started to slowly pull-slide herself across like a kid playing on the parallel bars at school. If she was a show-off, she would have run across the top, but she liked life and didn’t want to go splat on the pavement below. They had decided to go across one at a time – in-case their weight was too much for the harpoon.

Before she knew it, the gap had been breached and she was sliding up onto the balcony. She had only come up here once in her career at The Firm; with Draco. He had decided to see what this new fad the Muggle’s had introduced called smoking was all about. He had almost coughed up a lung, swore for three hours and ate fifteen packets of mints. To say he didn’t take to it; was the understatement of the century.

The rope tightened again as Camille slid onto it. Hermione watched her progress for a moment, until she sensed a movement behind her. Spinning quickly she came face to face with someone completely decked out almost identically to her. They were taller than her and appeared stronger, yet Hermione was itching for a fight and took a running jump at them, surprising the masked person.

She slammed her shoulder into their chest. Hearing a grunt of pain from her masked opponent sent a shiver of satisfaction through her body. They back-peddled a few steps until managing to gain their footing.

Then it was on - Hermione fell back as they began to spar in earnest. She deftly blocked a hit to her neck and side stepped their attempt at tripping her. Her forearm stung from the repeated blows, yet they had not managed to land one. Meanwhile her size and speed ensured she hit twice; once on their side, and another to their shoulder. Each time they retaliated with simple, basic moves. Either they were a novice or they were holding back.

Hermione had an inkling they might be holding back, and this annoyed her. Damn it, she craved a fight – she needed to slam her fists into something. If only so she could feel something other than betrayal and loss. So she began to fight harder, faster and looser. They had ample opportunity to land a blow, yet they still blocked and fought back almost mechanically.

The urge to scream blue murder, was become too great, she needed them to do something. So she threw herself at them again. Pressed tightly against their chest, she hooked her leg around their knee and yanked. A growl emitted from the mask as they landed on one knee. Hermione wasted no time and struck out again, hoping for a blow to the nose. A huge hand caught hers instead. It surprised her into not moving for a second.

Her opponents arm snaked around her waist and pulled her in tight - very tight. Breathing became difficult but not impossible. She squirmed against them, trying to free herself. It wasn’t going to happen, their sheer strength overpowered her.

At that moment, Camille jumped over the edge and saw what was happening. She assessed the situation for a second before attacking. As she ran for them, Hermione saw something from the corner of her eyes. There was a second assailant to match the one who currently was squeezing her into motionlessness. She tried to yell, yet the mask made it near on impossible to hear anything.

They caught Camille mid motion – yet Camille was quick and immediately got into a good position. Hermione watched as the two began to spar in an almost identical style. Frowning, she watched them – it was uncanny. It was almost as if they had been trained by the same person.

Suddenly Hermione’s attacker let her go. Why - she didn’t know, but she didn’t waste time. Kicking out, she landed a blow on their upper thigh. They spun to the side and blocked another kick of hers. She screamed in frustration and threw her mask off.

“Fight, you bastard – fight me.”

They didn’t comply. She could tell they were a brilliant fighter, not classically trained as her, yet more of a brawling kind. Then Hermione heard a loud crash from behind her and took a second to look. Camille and her opponent had knocked over one of the huge smokers stands filled with sand. Smoke butts, and sand spilled over the ground making it slippery. Within seconds Camille was on the ground - her attacker on-top of her. Hermione held her breath, and spun around to run for Camille. Strong arms embraced her from behind; she kicked out, but they lifted her off the ground.

Frantically she looked over at Camille, and saw she was not harmed, the person was just subduing her. What the hell was going on? She recklessly squirmed and bucked, trying to loosen the grip – they only held on tighter. Then she saw a mask being flung onto the ground in-front of her.

“Granger, I’ve warned about you squirming before, haven’t I?” The deep voice was unmistakable. She suddenly went immobile. Her whole body flushed cold and she began to shake deep within herself. Keep it together; she told herself, fall apart later, it had been done before. “If I put you down, do you promise not to run?”

Hermione nodded, too dumbstruck to do anything else. Although, the second she was put on the ground she spun and slammed her palm hard onto Draco’s cheek. He took the blow like a professional, only a tinge of red marred the pristine whiteness of his face. As his stormy grey eyes met her chocolate brown ones, she went to slap him again. This time he grabbed her hand and held her back.

“Do you feel better?”

She wanted to scream at him, she would never be better; she would never trust anyone again. He had killed something in her with his betrayal, and she wasn’t sure whether she could ever regain it. Merlin, seeing his gorgeous face again was like a blow to her solar plexus. She couldn’t do this now; she couldn’t function properly while he stood so calmly in-front of her. Hermione wished it was as simple as a slap which made her feel better. Yet Draco had done a lot more to her than just lie. He’d created a hammer to chip away at the armour around her heart, and that was unforgivable.

Instead she looked up into his eyes and sneered. ‘Your lifeless body would be a good start.”

He looked taken aback for a second at the venom in her voice; then he matched her sneer and surpassed it. He was after all, the king of all sneers. “Really, Granger? Lifeless?” He leant in closer; and she tried leaning away from him as far as possible – which wasn’t far. He licked the shell of her ear before whispering. “I think not. You want me – you want me bad, because I’m so wrong for you. In fact, you’re turned on now – aren’t you?”

His arrogance completely astounded her. All she felt was…shit, she was getting turned on. Her body must love betrayal, because that’s what it just did to her. She was crazy – certifiable, if one small lick and a few dirty words from the man she despised above all others could make her knickers wet through.

“Of course I am; murderers and liars are my kink, didn’t you know?”

He stiffened slightly and leant away from her, watching her face closely. What he saw, she didn’t know, but he turned from her and swore. He still hadn’t relinquished his hold of her though; he was smarter than she gave him credit for. She would have just hit him again if he let go.

“Why are you here? It’s bloody dangerous.” He ground out - he was furious. Why? She was the one who’d been screwed over after all.

“Why do you think, moron. I have to clear my name. Or did you forget that I at least still have a life to return to when this was all over?”

She knew it was a low blow; she didn’t care – not really. Her words did actually make him let her go; he also pushed her away, as if disgusted with her.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” He suddenly sounded defeated, but before she could tell, his eyes hardened slightly and his voice took on the harsh edge of danger. “Is it?”

She swung her arm back around at him, Draco deflected gracefully; she spun and tried to hit him three more times. Each and every time he side-stepped with perfection. The frustration and pain welled up inside of her.

“What the fuck did you expect? You lied to me, Draco. You spelled, hurt and killed people. All in the name of what? Your ego? Or to see if you could do it – or is it money? Is that your motivation? You want to reclaim what was yours, Malfoy Manor?” She was yelling so hard, her voice grew hoarse. Dropping her arms to her side again, she exhaled in defeat.

“What about trust between partners?” Was the only reply she received for her tirade.

Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Quickly she stole a glance at Camille, and saw her in the same position. Her attacker sat on her, holding her arms down; she no longer struggled. She was waiting for a sign from Hermione. Camille would have been able to make out Draco, by now. But she wouldn’t have been able to hear them talking.

“I think that’s been abused enough, don’t you?” She almost whispered.

Draco grabbed her arm and squeezed. “I only asked one thing of you – to trust me. You couldn’t could you? After all we have been through; you still couldn’t grant me that small boon. You are so smart, Granger, so switched on. Yet you truly suck at human nature, at reading people.”

Hermione could only look up aghast at his words. They cut deep; she was the one who had been wronged. But somehow he had turned it on her, making her feel like she was in the wrong. He didn’t stop – he continued.

“What’s the first lesson they teach at The Firm?” When she didn’t reply, he yelled it to her. “Trust your partner; they are an extension of yourself. Your partner is your sixth sense. Trust is paramount. Do you remember those lessons, Granger?”

She felt tears form at his angry, hurtful words. Yet she nodded. “Yes.” Her voice cracked. “Yes, I bloody remember it.”

“Good. I want you to think on it for a moment.” Draco ran his hands through his hair as he swore again. “Do you really think I’m capable of killing my friends, my comrades? Merlin, you must think me worse than the lowest form of scum.”

He then indicated to the other masked person. They stood up and let Camille go. She gingerly rose while ripping her mask off. Camille’s look was questioning as she stared between Hermione and Draco. The tension was so thick, movement was almost impossible.

The masked figure walked towards them, and just before they reached Hermione and Draco, the visor came off.

Hermione stood in shock; then she slumped to the ground and stared up at the dark haired man before her, not trusting her eyes. She flicked her eyes between the two men; Draco stood looking away from her, his jaw clenched. Shame welled over her entire being as she looked back at the now unmasked man.

“My God, Marcus?”

******

A/N: Thanks again so much for those who continue to read this and who also take the extra time to let me know what they think! :) Always gets a huge smile!!
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The Spy Game