Puzzle Pieces

Section 11:

It took over an hour for Draco and Hermione to reach some sort of conclusion on the point they were debating. By the time they were finished, they were both flushed and glowy-eyed, and I had given up on getting rid of my erection, and had simply cast a concealment charm instead. The concealment charm would prevent embarrassment, but it didn’t reduce the discomfort of an hour long hard-on, so when the point seemed to be mostly settled between the two of them, I was quick to suggest that it might be time for Draco and I to head back to the dorms. To my relief, Draco agreed, helping me gather up my stuff into my bag while saying a surprisingly cordial goodbye to Hermione, who was staying to add some finishing touches to her essay. Draco and I left the library together, but we hadn’t gotten three steps down the hall when Draco came to an abrupt halt.

“Blast!” he exclaimed. “I’ve forgotten to grab the parchment with my notes on it. I’ll have to go back for it; I want to look into those ideas a bit more.”

Obligingly, I turned with him to go back and fetch it, only to be halted in place by his hand grabbing my arm. “No!” he said abruptly, breaking eye contact when I looked at him in confusion. “I-I mean,” he stammered. “There’s no need to go back with me. Why don’t you go ahead back to the common room and set up the billiards table for us? I’ll be along in a minute.”

Did he think I was stupid? Or maybe just gullible? If he didn’t want me to go with him, then it could only mean that he was planning to have a conversation with Hermione that he didn’t want me to overhear. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. They had seemed to get along so *well*. Had I gotten my hopes up too soon that the two most important people in my life might actually be able to get along?

One thing was for certain: there was no way on earth I was going to head back to the common room now. I had to know what Draco wanted to say to Hermione. Smiling at Draco in pretended agreement, I headed down the hallway, around the corner where I stood in place for five seconds before daring to peek around it again. No one was there. Good, that meant that Draco had believed my act and gone ahead into the library. Retracing my steps, I slid silently through the library doors and hid myself in the stacks, carefully approaching Draco and Hermione.

Draco’s constant spying on us during our study sessions had had one very positive effect: it had made me put a lot of thought into the best way of spying on someone in the library without getting caught. Draco had been rather hopeless at it, and I had spent a fair amount of time hypothesizing over what would have improved his attempts. Standing *here* instead of *there*, maybe. Staying low instead of upright. Picking out the shadows. It had never been more than a mental exercise for me to imagine how to spy properly, but it certainly came in handy. I was able to slide into an excellent position that allowed me to see most of what they did and hear *all* of it while remaining unseen.

I wasn’t quite in time to hear the question that Draco was obviously asking Hermione, but I was just in time to hear her response. It was a good thing that I found a secure position, and even better that the position had me kneeling on the ground, otherwise I might have fallen over when I heard what it was, exactly, that Draco was asking Hermione.

“Malfoy, are you asking me my *intentions*?” Hermione asked, her voice sounded dumbfounded. At any other time, I would have been pleased to see her caught so off-guard, but this wasn’t the moment for appreciation. I was too bewildered, myself. What on earth was Draco doing?

“If you want to put it like that, then yes,” Draco replied tightly. “I want you to give me your word that you aren’t planning on using Blaise.”

“Using him for *what*?” Hermione asked.

“Do I need to draw you a diagram, Granger?” Draco drawled. “Don’t muggle parents make any effort to teach their children about the birds and the bees?”

Hermione flushed darkly. “A diagram won’t be necessary, Malfoy,” she retorted crisply. “Unless it’s a diagram from the mediwitch after you’ve gotten your head examined, explaining that some sort of trauma has made you delusional. What on earth are you going on about?”

“A diagram of my head won’t help show you and Blaise how to make your own little know-it-all witches and wizards, but I daresay Blaise can teach you everything you need to know about that. He’s not used to relationships, though, and that’s where you have the upper hand. I want to make sure you’re not planning on screwing him over. That’s what I came here to ask.”

I barely managed to bit back a groan of embarrassment. Draco was definitely taking overprotective to the next level. Who did he think he was, my mother? My *pimp*? Was he honestly trying to set me up with Hermione? Why would he do something like that?

“I-I’m not…” Hermione stammered, “I mean, I couldn’t…” She took a deep breath, which did all sorts of lovely, interesting things to the front of her blouse (and from the look on Draco’s face, I could see that he had noticed that as well) and spoke again once she had organized her thoughts. “Blaise and I are not and *will* not be in a relationship other than friendship, Malfoy, and certainly not in a relationship that leads to making little witches and wizards, so I fail to see what difference it makes how I *might* treat him if we were.”

“What makes you so sure?” Draco countered.

“Why would he want me when he has you?” Hermione blurted out. She blushed and started stammering and rambling a bit again, in that adorably endearing way. “Y-you should know, I won’t say anything, about the two of you being together, I mean. Not t-to anyone, not even Harry and Ron, I promise! And don’t get angry at Blaise for telling me, because he didn’t; I figured it out for myself. But he… he loves you, Draco, and I know that you love him. I really think that the two of you are meant for each other. You obviously belong together, and I care about Blaise far too much to ever do anything to get in the way of that.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Draco replied quietly.

“What?”

Mentally, I echoed her question. This conversation was making me more nervous by the second. Draco was getting at something, but I still didn’t know *what*. Why was he trying to fix me up with Hermione? Why would he want me to take a lover, a *permanent* lover, other than him? I knew that Draco had his insecurities, but I thought that we had worked past them when it came to Hermione. He couldn’t think that I wanted to replace him, could he? Or was it… (I swallowed hard, steeling myself just for the thought of it) … was it that he wanted to replace me, and wanted me out of the way first?

Draco dodged the question, taking a different tack instead. “Blaise is important to you, you admitted it yourself; don’t you think he deserves better than some junior Death Eater like me?”

“There is nothing better than being with the person that you love.”

Draco groaned. “Enough with the clichés! This isn’t a romance novel, Granger, this is real life! Don’t you want Blaise to be happy? Don’t you want what’s best for him? Merlin knows that I do, and I know damn well what’s best for him is not me! It *might* be you.”

“No, Draco,” I whispered before I could stop myself. He didn’t hear me. It took every ounce of determination I possessed not to jump up out of my hiding place and grab hold of my lover. Once I had a grip on him, I wasn’t certain if I would kiss him or smack him up the backside of his head, but I ached to get to him and knock some sense into him, make him realize that there was no such thing as a best case scenario for me that didn’t include him in my life.

Draco seemed to run out of steam, and slumped slightly. “I can tell that he’s interested in you,” he stated softly. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco held up a hand to cut her off. “Don’t bother trying to deny it. You don’t know him like I do. I know the signs. He’s interested, but he’s stubborn: he doesn’t want to admit it yet. I can… help you with that.” He straightened up a bit. “But I won’t unless I have your word that you’re serious about him. I’m not going to turn him over to you just to get hurt.”

“Why?” Hermione whispered.

“Why what?”

“Why are you trying to set me up with your lover?” Hermione demanded.

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” he growled in annoyance. “It’s such a *simple* question! What’s the problem? Are you afraid to admit that you want him? Don’t bother trying to deny it; it’s so *painfully* obvious. You practically *moon* over him when you think no one’s looking, you light up head to toe when he joins you here unexpectedly, and you completely lose your train of thought whenever he touches you. Admit it, Granger, and don’t try lying. You goody-goody Gryffindors give yourselves away every time,” Draco sneered, daring her to contradict him.

“I wasn’t going to lie,” Hermione replied firmly, all traces of hesitation or stuttering vanishing completely. “Yes, I’m falling in love with Blaise. I have been for quite some time now, long before he approached me for the first time. I care for him more deeply than you’d be able to imagine, for all the good it may do me. But that doesn’t matter. I can’t answer your question as to whether or not you can trust me not to hurt him, because I know I’ll *never* have the chance. It’s not enough for me to love him; in order to hurt him, he’d have to love me, and he doesn’t. He loves you.”

Draco and I both froze at her words. I can’t imagine what Draco was thinking; my own thoughts were barely coherent to me. Hermione was falling in love with me? *Had* been falling in love with me since *before* the first time I spoke to her? Wanted me, but didn’t think that I’d ever want her? She… I… I didn’t know what to think… except that I was glad. I was glad that she loved me and I was glad that I was as important to her as she was becoming to me. Could I love her? I wasn’t sure. Want her, yes. No problem there. But love her? I closed my eyes to clear my head, and the image from before slid back in front of my view. Draco and me and Hermione, a writhing tangle of flesh, making love to each other. Yes, making *love*. Just thinking about it felt so good, it almost hurt. I wanted that with Hermione. But I wanted Draco to be there, too.

“*Because* I care about Blaise, and *because* I would never want to see him hurt, I’m going to give you a piece of advice,” Hermione continued. “Don’t let him go. Whatever your issues are, get through them, but don’t give up Blaise.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Granger,” Draco muttered in a low voice that made it sound like he was in pain.

“Do you love him?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t push me,” Draco hissed.

“Do you *love* him?”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“*Damn* you Malfoy, do you love him or not?”

“Yes, I love him! Gods below, Granger, he’s the only thing in the world that I…” Draco cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Don’t you dare question my love for Blaise,” he hissed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s *because* I love him that I’m doing this. Don’t act as if you understand the situation when you *don’t*!”

“Then explain it to me! Tell me why it would be best for Blaise to be deserted by the person that he loves!”

“You wouldn’t understand! You have no idea what it’s like to have your father, your own *father*—” Draco’s voice cut off abruptly and I saw every muscle in his body go tense as he tried to refasten the rein on his emotions. “When Blaise comes back from Christmas break,” Draco stated in a low, intense voice, “it’s highly unlikely that my love for him or his love for me will still be an issue. When that time comes, for the love of *God*, Granger, can I trust you to take care of him?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good,” Draco spat out, before storming into the aisle. Moments later, I heard the library door slam shut behind him. Hermione looked pale and shaken in his wake, but soon gathered her self-composure sufficiently to gather her books with shaking hands and load them into her bag. A minute or so later, she left the library as well. I remained slumped in my hiding place, trying to process what had just occurred.

I wish I could say that none of it made sense to me, but that just wasn’t true. Hermione had trained me far too well, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the pieces of the puzzle from fitting together in my mind. I had already figured out that something Death Eater related was going to happen over Christmas break, but now I knew it was much more than a simple project. It was something big. Something drastic. Something that Draco wasn’t certain he would survive. He had a role in it, assigned to him by his father in the late night fire conversation I had accidentally overheard, and his role meant that he had to be there for it, whether it killed him or not. But *I* didn’t have to be there, and that was what mattered to him. He wanted me out of danger, and he wanted to be sure that I would be taken care of, no matter what happened.

In light of that, his behavior for the past week made a lot more sense. Of course he would push me away a bit if he wanted me to get used to not having him around, and of course he’d be more affectionate if he wasn’t sure how many chances he had left. Of course he’d want me out of the way over Christmas break, and of course he’d push me to spend more time with Hermione, and of course he’d make sure that she had my best interests at heart. And of course I wouldn’t let him get away with it.

Draco had a lot of damn nerve thinking he was the only one in our relationship willing to make sacrifices for the other. If Draco had developed a conscience when it came to me then there was nothing to stop me from developing a conscience when it came to him. I wasn’t about to leave him alone to face whatever it was that he was so certain would kill him, and if he thought that he could make that decision for me, then he definitely had another thing coming. Rising to my feet, I headed out of the library and down the hall. I needed to find Snape. I had to let him know that my plans had changed, and that I would be *staying* at Hogwarts over Christmas.


End Section 11