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To Play with Fire	By : Serinah Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4628 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: I own only plot and the pleasure of writing. All hail J.K.Rowling!

A/N: Malmsborough have been invented by me. :)

Chapter 8

To Say Sorry Is To Manipulate

He has to be guilty! was a major thought running through her head, as she headed towards the meeting place. Why else would he panic unless he had something to hide? And what else could he hide that would cause such a panic? Malfoy assaulted Blaise!

* * *

About what happened, she had said. Draco did indeed panic. He had squashed the feeling for a moment in his desperate attempt to hide it from her, but once he was out of the library it was hard to contain. She had suggested the farthest bank of the Lake near the Forest because there were few places one could have a privacy in the schoolhouse and they definitely couldn't visit each other's dorms.

Draco had been hurt on some level when she said that they'd better not be seen together because they had spent time together publicly before, hadn't they? Though yes, it was true they did not have an excuse this time. He dismissed his hurt, it was totally irrational. It would only be natural for her not to want to be seen with him. And why should he care, exactly?!

He didn't remember how he had reached the meeting place, thoughts had been running in circles in his head and though the panic wasn't escalating into hysterics, he didn't feel calmer either. Did she know? And if yes, then what was it that she knew? About his feelings, about Blaise, about his bloody task? He didn't know which option was better or more frightening. He didn't know what he would do if she knew any of it.

Draco heard her coming and looked up. As soon as she saw him she halted and he noticed that she was a little bit nervous too. Somehow it calmed him. Hermione Granger drew a breath and in an instant she seemed calm too. Her hands were in her pockets, head tilted, hair wild as always, eyes bright. To Draco, she looked beautiful.

�Draco.�

He closed his eyes but opened them the next instant. It wouldn't do to let her know, how much his name on her lips had affected him. He didn't think she had ever called him that before.

�Yes?� he said.

She had to be mad at him about something. He was waiting for the axe to fall because she had said, Draco.

He just didn't know which limb would be amputated.

Draco.

He tried to tell himself that it wouldn't really matter, he was already half crippled by these feelings anyway. There was a chance, though, that instead of limping on one leg he would be wheeling for the rest of his life, metaphorically speaking, of course. But in truth, he feared it would actually be more like extracting and cutting up a heart in the name of science; cold, indifferent, clinical. That would be the worst � her total indifference, where she'd despise him so much that she wouldn't even care enough to hate. Something like, �I know you are a criminal, Malfoy. Blaise is going to testify and you are going to Azkaban.� Though if that were the case, then they would not be here now, would they?

What Hermione finally said, surprised him so much that for a moment the world blurred in front of his eyes.

�I'm sorry.� Her voice was small, her eyes on the ground.

Draco blinked. She didn't look like a fierce angel of justice ready to decapitate him. His heart started to beat faster and hope started to swell in him, even while the rational part of his brain was yelling at him to retaliate. This had to be some kind of trick, any second know she would begin to laugh.

�Are you mocking me?� He hadn't meant to really ask that. It had just come out and his voice was hesitant and hoarse. Git.

Hermione looked up and her eyes widened, �No! Why would I?� She looked at him, seemingly confused too, but then carried on, �I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you told me about Blaise.�

�Oh,� Draco didn't know what to say. He had thought it natural that she hadn't believed him, �That's OK.� He shrugged.

�And I wanted to ask you why did you do it?� It came out in a rush, nervously and earnestly. Draco thought it strange that the thought bothered her. He thought she would simply write it off to him being mean. As he was thinking how to better answer that, she continued.

�I don't think you told me because you wanted to hurt me, did you?� It was a statement and a question at the same time but to Draco it was more than that � he heard the underlying need to know that he wasn't mocking her either. Merlin, he hoped he was reading her right.

�I told you because...� He sighed, he couldn't bollocks it up, he just couldn't! It was his chance! And he didn't mean The Plan any more or the several others he had made up later. They all were discarded now. He continued solemnly, �What he was doing, was wrong. You deserve better.�

�Oh.� She pursed her lips and the nibbled her lower lip.

A stab of longing shot through Draco. He wasn't sure she believed him though, but even if she didn't she didn't vocalise it. He decided to use the opportunity to the fullest though.

�There's something I need to tell you,� he said decisively. �But not here, we'll need some time and privacy for that.� Draco saw her eyes narrow in suspicion, so he quickly added, �Name your own time and place and take Potter and Weasel with you. I need them to hear it too anyway.�

�Hear what?� Hermione seemed to be even more suspicious now, and he could definitely see why.

�Look, you can even summon me any time you want tomorrow. It's Saturday, so we can use an empty classroom or any other place you choose. I'll be in the library.�

He saw that she was perplexed but he also knew that there was no way they would not swallow the bait, so he simply turned to leave, offering, �Just think about it.�

How could he have known that the next day he would be attending a cause of entirely opposite nature.

* * *

Ron, Hermione and Harry entered the library again. Malfoy was not there. They had been in search of him for over an hour now but it seemed that no one had seen him since morning. They had chosen the meeting time and place for a minimum disturbance just before dinner, so that they would be able to find Malfoy before he went to the Great Hall and that most of the student body would be out of the way eating. But Malfoy was nowhere around and he hadn't showed up for dinner either.

They didn't dare asking around very much because the meeting was supposed to be a secret. Some unsuspecting grown-ups might actually know, Harry thought; it was just a matter of asking the right people. And in a right way and by right person... Well then, no problem, Harry, I'll just go and ask Goyle.

�You are a prefect; it would be perfectly natural!� Ron exclaimed to Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes.

�You are a prefect too, why don't you ask?� Hermione was peeved. She seemed to be nervous about the whole ordeal. To be honest, Harry was also worried that the meeting might be some ingenious trap they could not figure out. Could disappearing act be actually a part of it?

Ron huffed, �Nobody is going to believe that I'm dealing with prefect duties on Saturday evening if it's not even my turn!�

Hermione crossed her hands on her chest, �Are you saying I have no life?�

Harry sensed an argument brewing and said quickly, �Hey, Madam Pince has returned, she won't know who's turn it is. �Mione, go ask, Ron couldn't lie even for food!�

�What?!� Ron's face turned red and he started mouthing Harry off but Hermione didn't stay to listen. She exhaled determinedly and started for the librarian while Harry was trying to hush his friend, �Shut up, Ron, we'll be thrown out before 'Mione can even ask!�

In a minute Hermione was back, �Malfoy was here in the morning but just after noon his father came and took him for the day. He's been off the grounds since.� She looked at them as if the information held some special significance.

�What?� Ron seemed confused, �Are you suggesting it has some connection to what he wanted to talk about?�

Harry turned towards the exit, �Not here!� They made it to the Common Room, hoping that most of the students would be outside on that fine evening. They sat around the table at the end of the room not to get in the way, but they still conversed in hushed voices.

�He said he'd be working in a library today. Did he imply in any way that it wouldn't be for the whole day?� Harry didn't think it made sense. If it was a part of some Voldemort's plan to capture or kill him, Lucius would not have sabotaged it. Maybe it had gone awry somehow and the elder Malfoy was saving the situation? But how? What could that kind of plan have been about?

�No, the way he said it, I don't think he cared when we would talk. I don't think Malfoy knew that his father would come for him.� Hermione wasn't sure how, but somehow the two things had to be connected. Malfoy wanted to talk and Lucius took him out of school. Maybe it was something he wasn't supposed to tell them?

�It could be any family emergency,� Ron said, �Mum spraining an ankle, favourite house elf dying, the bright new broom begging to be bought... It's not like it never happens; sometimes kids are taken home by their parents.� He shrugged.

Suddenly the portrait moved and Ginny and Neville rushed in.

�Have you already heard about the attack?� Ginny was panting as if she had been running.

The trio jumped up as did other inhabitants of the room.

�Where?�

�No!�

�Death Eaters?�

�How did you hear about it?�

�Is anyone dead?�

Ginny provided them with all the meagre details she knew as soon as everyone fell silent but it wasn't much. An extra Daily Prophet was being published and all subscribers were going to receive it before the midnight. Now the peace of the evening was replaced by anguish and dread. As other Gryffindors started returning to the Common Room rumours were flying rampage. Still, there was not much real information among it. What location had been attacked or if any wizardry folk had been there was not known. How great the losses were was anybody's guess.

At first students had sat right there, in the Common Room talking quietly. Many had sent owls home to get more information, but only few anticipated to receive an answer before morning. Nonetheless, it was quite certain that few would go to sleep on time that night. Most of the students soon went into the Great Hall. It was rumoured that an assembly was to be held. Indeed, the headmaster delivered a speech of encouragement, some details were added and at long last the Prophet was delivered.

A village near London called Malmsborough had been attacked and pillaged. There had been an annual autumn fair going on, so many people had been killed and most of the houses burnt down. About twenty Death Eaters had carried out acts of vandalism, arson, torture and murder. About forty muggles and four wizards had been killed. By the time aurors arrived the Death Eaters had already been leaving, so none were captured.

The late evening ended when everyone were ordered to return into their dorms and go to sleep. Harry, Ron and Hermione were some of the last to leave as two of them were prefects. As they were passing the main hall, the double doors of the entrance opened and a lone figure of a student came in. A school uniform, a face devoid of any expression and a shock of white blond hair was the same as always. Still, Gryffindors were blatantly staring at him because of one feature that was distinctly different from his usual appearance - Malfoy was limping. They waited for him to come closer. Harry felt shocked and angry. He thought he knew now, why the Slytherin had been absent the whole day.

�What happened to your leg, ferret?� Ron sneered.

�Fell off the stairs, you poor soul?� Harry taunted.

�Where?� Ron wanted to know then. Hermione was the only one that asked nothing. Non of them expected a real answer form him because they already knew. That was, what made Draco's answer so much more aggravating.

�Malmsborough.� He smirked sadly.

*Earlier that day*

The pain was shooting up his leg and his lungs were on fire. He had stumbled earlier and now his speed was somewhat lessened. Draco's left hand clutched his wand and he was desperately trying to reach the end of the village, where the one of the few houses that weren't on fire yet, stood. He'd make sure to burn it himself.

Draco had never seen anything like it. If he'd been to the Quidditch World Cup, he would have, but he had been denied that �pleasure�. Now he knew why. He wasn't sure if he was more grateful to his parents or betrayed.

More than half of the village was on fire. Screams were filling the air, as if the sound of burning was not horrible enough. Hexes flashed all around Draco, so he was trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. A man and a woman were running on his right towards the forest. Morons, he thought. The couple was out in the open and any idiot could have taken them down. He sent a ray of light towards them. The man fell and the woman cried out. She didn't see the second hex coming and fell a second later. Draco didn't pay them any more attention and resumed running.

It was Draco's first revel. A �surprise party.� A pre-initiation celebration. Merlin! He'd never imagined it would be like this. How he was supposed to be enjoying it was beyond him. Somehow destroying homes and killing muggles was not something he'd label as fun. It was even worse than he had thought, but still he'd have to do his best to prove his worth to The Dark Lord. It was ridiculous because no one really needed his services here. Well at least wizards didn't, and it would be outrageous to practise on muggles. Draco did not care, he was trained and he would use his skills!

Draco reached the house on the outskirts of the village and looked around to make sure he would not be noticed. He sent an Alohomora to the door and burst into the room.

�Is anyone here?�

There were only three rooms on the ground floor � a spacious sitting room, dining room and a tiny kitchen. They were all empty. He ascended the stairs as quickly as his injured foot allowed. There were four doors along the corridor. The first two rooms revealed no one. When he opened the third door on the left, a girl about eight years old screamed. And screamed and screamed and screamed. Draco thought that his black clothing and a shiny mask had frightened her, and now her screaming had scared him too. He just stood there gazing at her.

Great, now what? After a moment he stepped inside.

To Be Continued ...

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To Play with Fire