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The True Measure of a Malfoy	By : Remarkable Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 2361 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-The True Measure of a Malfoy
- 1
“Granger!”

Hermione wanted to shriek. Draco had absolutely no reason to speak to her and now the Ferret was going to make her late for their joint Potions intern orientation! She walked a little more quickly, hoping to get to the dungeons on time and ahead of him.

“Granger! Wait up!”

She broke into a little jog, ignoring the urge to glance over her shoulder. It felt strange to be moving in this direction without Harry or one of the other Gryffindor boys walking this way with her. She and Draco were the only two students that had passed the advanced Potions placement exam for consideration as one of Professor Snape’s apprentices. He had two spots open but had warned that just because they qualified for a trial internship did not mean they’d be taken on as an apprentice, and he did not tolerate tardiness.

She’d just have to hurry up.

“Fuck all, Granger, would you slow down? I need to talk to you!”

“Piss off, Ferret, I’m busy!” she tossed back, breaking into a light run.

The heavy sound of booted feet pounded the worn flagstone after her.

Within moments the pair was at a full run, her with the intent to flee and he with the intent to catch and conquer.

Even in full summer the dungeons were cool and damp. Bits of moisture flecked over the stone surfaces. The House Elves didn’t keep this part of the castle up as much this time of year so the floor was a tad slippery.

“G-Granger!” he shouted, slightly winded by her sprint and surprised at how fast her little legs could carry her considering she had a bag full of Potions texts glued to her shoulder.

Giving in to the urge, Hermione risked a glance, rounding the last corner to the Potions classroom where they would begin the first part of their intern instruction. Realizing her mistake at the last moment she shrieked when her body came into contact with something, or someone rather, tall and lean, knocking them both to the floor with an undignified, “Oomph!”

The last thing she saw before her head rebounded against the flagstone was the scowling countenance of Professor Severus Snape, robes askew and snarling something that escaped her notice due to the flower of pain blooming into blessed darkness.

Xo xo xo xo xo xo

The first thing she was aware of was a cool compress pressed to the back of her head. She lay on a soft, inviting surface and low voices seemed to be speaking of her just barely within her range of hearing. She strained through the dull throb tearing her skull apart to understand.

“…-- running from you, Draco?”

“… calling for her…stubborn, thick-headed…. Bloody Gryffindor….”

“…responsible …. hurt badly ….”

“… didn’t mean to … just wanted to ….”

“She’s awake. How nice of you to join us, Miss Granger. Draco and I were beginning to wonder if you preferred a private room convalescing in St. Mungo’s but once again you live up to your Gryffindor House name by ensuring I am the recipient of Draco’s assistance gathering potions ingredients during the full moon in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Bloody witch cost me six poker nights.”

“You should never make such foolish bets with a Slytherin master, Draco, you’ve much to learn.”

Hermione opened her eyes. A sullen Draco, now tall, handsome and pouty, looking disturbingly just as good looking as his father, stood just behind and to the right of her Potions Master, Professor Snape.

“You bet on whether or not I’d need to go in hospital to recover? Prats!”

That one attempt to converse caused her head to renew its screaming throb and she groaned in pain, scrabbling at the back of her head in agony.

“Ah, ah, Miss Granger, you mustn’t disturb the bandages.”

“My head hurts,” she whimpered, holding out her arms as if reaching for her Daddy.

Professor Snape crossed his arms and frowned.

“It seems the poultice isn’t doing its intended work. I shall need to procure something stronger to relieve the ache and speed the Healing.” He cast a dark look at Draco. “This is going to cost you an extra week of your assistance, boy,” he growled, “I will be back shortly. Make sure she stays comfortable and does not move. You may give her a few sips of water, and no more. She is still in shock.”

Draco looked duly chastened as Professor Snape swept from the room to his Potions lab. He grabbed for a small, crystal cup from the side table and brought it to Hermione’s lips.

“Drink, Granger, but just a little bit. I’m in deep enough shite with my Uncle as it is.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, parched throat cooling with the delicious water trickling over her tongue and down her esophagus. She vaguely registered Draco’s calloused thumb brushing the errant drops from her lips. His long fingers lingered under her chin, stroking her skin gently.

“Draco,” she whispered, motioning weakly for him to come closer.

He was instantly on point. Granger never called him by his first name! The witch was probably a little delirious.

“Yeah, Granger?” He leaned in, face inches from her own. There was a hidden prettiness to the young woman, a smattering of freckles so faint it was no wonder he’d never noticed them before. Unlike the Weaslette with her prolific spray dotting the landscape of skin beholden to the red-haired clan, these were barely there, like a beauty mark savored only by those close to her and appreciative of physical subtlety.

“Why were you chasing me?”

“Why were you running?”

“You were chasing me.”

“I chased you because you ran away from me. I just wanted to tell you that Professor Snape delayed the start of our training several hours but you wouldn’t stop and listen. Now, I’m afraid you’ve got us both kicked out before we even started thanks to your little injury.”

“Sorry for getting hurt, Malfoy,” she tried to say snidely but it came out as more of a choked gasp. “Water, please!”

He brought the glass to her lips and allowed her several more small swallows. This second time, his thumb lingered for a longer span of time over her pink, pouty lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Oh, fuck! Had he just said that aloud?

Thankfully, her eyes were closed and he sighed inwardly with immense relief. It would never do for her to know he harbored an intense, secret crush and the only reason he’d signed onto the apprenticeship was to spend more time with her. If he were totally honest with himself he was completely and totally in love with the girl.

The door to his Uncle’s Potions lab opened and the great man swept through, depositing an array of vials, a fresh poultice with something foul smelling spread over it and a spell book.

“Uncle?”

“Move, you daft sod!”

Draco jumped out of the way as if burned, not wishing to incite the man’s wrath any further. Despite his best efforts to persuade to the contrary, his Uncle had made it clear that he considered the blond totally at fault for the collision that had not only injured Granger, but smashed approximately sixteen assorted vials shrunken in Snape’s robes en-route to a client, the latter the cause of the delay he’d been trying to tell Granger about during her flight from his person.

The young apprentice levitated one of the wingback chairs to the foot of the transfigured bed and settled into it. It had always fascinated him to watch Snape work. There was sureness to his movements honed from decades of practice. The man made everything look so easy whether he was slicing and dicing potions ingredients or casting a powerful spell. He was grace personified despite his ugly mug and biting tongue.

After long minutes passed he finished up and bade Draco help him clear away the remains of his healing efforts. When they were finished and the chair back in place the pair settled into the chairs by the fire, both glancing to Granger’s sleeping form now and again. An elf popped in and served tea. Draco would have apologized to his Uncle again for making him miss his appointment with his client and smashing the potions but he knew in this case it was better to let the sleeping snake lie, as it were.

Draco looked up suddenly and started. His Uncle was staring at him intently, those vivid, sharp black orbs pinning him to the chair.

“What?”

Snape continued to pierce the lad with his unfathomable gaze before deliberately setting his untouched tea on the table between them.

“You would have saved me a lot of time and trouble if you would have simply told me, you know,” he said in his low, silky voice.

“What?”

“Young Malfoy, you have a very Gryffindor and consequently annoying habit of repeating yourself unnecessarily.”

“Beg your pardon, Uncle, I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Indeed,” Snape drawled, then was silent once more.

Draco was thoroughly confused. As much as he knew better than to speak out of turn he couldn’t help himself.

“Would you stop being so cryptic and just tell me already?”

“You’re in love with the girl.”

“What?”

“Draco!” Snape belted out as a warning bark.

“Sorry!” he winced, cringing back in the chair, causing Snape to roll his eyes.

“I cannot take you both on as apprentices if you have feelings for the girl. Does she return them?”

Snape looked into the fire, looking all of his forty-some years and then some.

“She doesn’t know.”

“How droll.”

Again, that agonizing silence.

“I’m afraid you’ll both have to go. How disappointing.”

“But she hasn’t done anything! It’s me!”

“I can’t take the chance that you will be distracted, either of you. I need apprentices that are completely focused and unhindered by personal dalliances.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh, stop acting the spoiled brat, Draco!” Snape roared suddenly, standing angrily and towering even from his vantage across the small table between them.

“I- I only meant she doesn’t deserve to lose this opportunity, Sir, she’s worked very hard for this. She wants this more than anything. Please don’t deny her the apprenticeship on my account.”

This seemed to appease the dark man for he resumed his seat and picked up his tea, eyes flicking to the girl and back.

“Surely you have worked just as hard to attain this position. You would give it up for her?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Good Gods, you do love her.”

Draco nodded. If he had to wait for her, he would. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t just buy himself the education elsewhere. There was nothing he wouldn’t do if it ensured Hermione’s chances at success.

A thought struck the young wizard and his eyes widened. “You already had decided to take us both on? What about the trial internship?”

Snape waved a hand indulgently, giving a smirk in the process. “It was meant to scare you. I was going to inform you both when you showed up this afternoon. You’ve proven yourselves worthy and serious of further study, but now…..”

“Uncle, please, I gladly give up my position if it means Granger gets to stay.”

Snape could not deny the earnestness in the lad’s pleading. Draco rarely did anything for others and to so blatantly give up a position of prestige and also disappoint his own father meant the boy was not only growing up, but truly was serious about the Granger girl.

Snape wanted to snap at the boy when he observed Draco crossing his fingers. Superstitious gestures would not ensure the dark wizard’s compliance with the boy’s wishes but he had to admit there was sound reasoning behind the request. If Draco hadn’t told the chit about his affections and was willing to wait, than Granger would probably remain…. undistracted by the boy’s attraction. There was no room in his schedule for love-besotted tom foolery.

“Very well.”

“Oh, thank you, Uncle, thank you!”

Severus sputtered and hissed as Draco jumped over the table and hugged him!

“Get off of me! I’m not doing this for you, foolish boy, I simply hate to see such brilliant talent wasted. Now get out of my sight. If I am going to play nursemaid until Poppy returns to the castle tomorrow I’ll not be saddled by an additional body cluttering up my living space.”

Draco grinned that of a fool in love. “You won’t be sorry, Uncle. I promise I’ll wait to tell her and I won’t get in the way!”

“You’d better not,” Snape growled, scowling into his tea once more.

As Draco made to leave his quarters Snape shouted after him, “Draco!”

The lad paused, “Yes, Sir?”

“Don’t be late for our little gathering rendezvous Saturday next.”

Draco frowned, but then smiled again. “I won’t, Sir. You can count on me.”

The door closed behind his Godson with a resolute, ‘click’ and Snape leaned back in his chair with an exorbitant sigh. “I’ve gone soft,” he muttered, finishing his tea and fishing around in his robes for a Pepper-Up potion. He had brewing to do if he was going to yet replace the potions broken by the incompetent youngsters that afternoon.

Hermione Granger surveyed the entire exchange through a slivered crack of her eyelid just barely open. Her lashes fluttered closed when Snape came over to check on her. Her breath caught when Snape leaned in, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke.

“You’d better make his sacrifice worthwhile, Miss Granger, or I won’t hesitate to replace you so quickly that pretty little head of yours will spin.”

Hermione merely opened her eyes and nodded solemnly.

The amused smirk on the Potions professor’s lips didn’t escape her notice as he turned and swept from her line of sight.

Only then did she allow her eyes to close, a smile gracing her soft lips as she murmured, “Thank you, Sir, thank you.”

On the other side of the room a black-robed figure stopped and turned at the door, breathing his reply so quietly only he heard the words, “You are most welcome, Miss Granger. Indeed you are.”
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The True Measure of a Malfoy