Carnival

Draco paced irately, discontent echoed with every step he took. The stone rooftop he currently eroded overlooked the magnificent San Polo Square. Garishly dressed tourists had begun arriving hours ago, all the while he watched - and waited. Years of training and solitude acclimatized him to being alone and not moving for hours on end. But tonight was different, tonight Hermione Granger was in the crowd. She would be down there somewhere, cavorting with his enemy. And it made him restless as hell. He did not enjoy the foreign feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.

To say he was taken aback when she told him she worked for Jonathan, was the understatement of the century. He’d felt like a Japanese fighting fish; mouth agape and a seven second memory in which anger was the primary emotion. Yet, it was her responsiveness to his touch, which completely blew all his preconceived notions of her apart.

Granger had developed into a small obsession over the last twenty four hours. Ever since she walked out of his library, he’d felt like he’d been sucker punched in the stomach. It was disconcerting to wake the next morning, hard as a rock with her name on his lips. No other witch had plagued his sleep like her, dreams were definitely not enough. He craved the real thing. He wanted Granger in his bed, writhing beneath him as he hammered into her slick flesh. And he meant what he’d told her; he would make it happen. He always got what he wanted. Draco exhaled raggedly and ran his hands through his hair again.

“This is fucking bollocks.” His voice was gravelly from lack of use, but saying his thoughts out loud made him feel more in control. Clenching a fist, he hit his thigh in frustration, hoping the stinging pain would give him some much needed clarity.

Draco was in the middle of executing the most important mission of his life, and he was acting like a lusty hormonal teenager. Judging by his behaviour up to this point, you would think he’d been celibate for years. And if Draco was one thing, celibate was not it. He needed to get back on track, back to the mission on hand. He was an aristocrat for Gods sake; he could wait to bed her. He felt a stirring in his trousers, and reassessed it should happen sooner rather than later.

He wondered how, just the thought of Granger made him spin off kilter. He now knew for a fact, that she was stunning, witty and carried the sex appeal of a Veela. Yet, knowing this only made it harder for Draco to correlate the two versions of her in his mind. On one hand, she was the snotty nosed brat from Hogwarts. And on the other, she was an astonishing female whom he seemed to lose all sense of logic with. But, surely she was not enough to have put his carefully ordered and compartmentalised life into such disarray. It just didn’t make sense.

Draco had many years of practice, showing the world nothing affected him. He was a master at deception, and he truly enjoyed being a prat. It was second nature, though it sometimes got him into trouble; usually with the females of his race. He smirked, he was always completely sure of himself, to believe less could end up in his death. As the Black Knight, he had carried out thousands of operations for the CMOA, and never once had a problem dealing with abnormalities which cropped up during the missions. Draco’s eyes widened as realisation dawned.

“That’s it, that’s why Grangers such a damn distraction.”

A pigeon flew off at Draco’s small outburst but he paid it no attention. He had worked it all out. Draco was frustrated and concerned; two emotions he was not used to. And it all boiled down to his handler at the CMOA. For the first time in eight years, he was not handed a detailed brief. Violet, his superior; had told him the mission was too top level to leave a paper trail.
He knew nothing about this operation except Jonathan Rothman was a dangerous wizard, and needed to be executed. Draco was effectively left in the dark, for the first time in his life.

Then, enter one delectable Hermione Granger, who casually mentions she was there to protect Jonathan, and instantly Draco loses all perspective. He was confused, that’s all.
He needed to be in control, and Granger was the only anomaly in the whole operation which he could control. She was only a damn ministry employee; she wasn’t an important factor in this at all. It now made perfect sense to him. The planets had not realigned to make him into a love sick fool. The feeling in his stomach was due to job satisfaction, not Granger. He was merely a pawn in a much bigger game. Sighing in contentment, Draco let his lip curl into a half sneer.

“I’m still going to screw her though.”

Now he had figured out why he was out of sorts, he settled into a comfortable crouch. It was still an hour until dusk settled over the square; so he watched the commoners play. Draco had a perfect view of the VIP area, which was set apart for the Ministry officials. Pulling out a small spyglass he perused the costumed devotees, most looked like imbeciles in his opinion. Taste, was obviously not inbuilt from birth in some people. Not everyone was like him.

The crowd would either be a hindrance in his mission, or his saving grace. Nothing worked better than a mob for cover, especially since he wouldn’t have a wand. He felt naked without it, even though he was used to leaving it home. For some unknown reason, not having it on this particular quest had left a bubble of wrongness in his lower abdomen. He swallowed hard and it dissipated somewhat.

All CMOA operatives were forbidden to use magic on missions; magic could be traced back to the user, or their superiors. It had taken Draco years to perfect the art of stealth. Years better left unmentioned, he was not always so poised and graceful. A fact he loathed. Now he was a master, and he had every right to be conceited. Draco was as faultless in magic as he was at being a Muggle operative. He smirked, Lucius must be rolling in his grave at the thought that his one and only son lived partly as a Muggle. The smirk turned into a genuine smile, knowing his mother was proud of him.

Draco continued to peruse the crowd, watching and waiting. Then he saw her. He knew it was Granger the moment she appeared in the Ministers box. Though, she was completely dressed in Carnival costume, mask and all. He didn’t question how he knew her on sight, he just did. The silk green and blue dress was strapless across the bodice and tight. It tapered in at the waist, and then ballooned out in an old fashioned hoop. She swirled in a sea of peacock colours, he couldn’t blink. The almost pure Slytherin colours suited her; his chest pulsed and tingled. He realised he hadn’t taken a breath since she’d appeared, and wondered whether adult asthma appeared in his bloodline. It couldn’t be Granger who’d made his chest tighten. He’d never lost his breath over any female; they just weren’t worth it. He pushed aside the asinine voice in his head which told him, she was different from the vapid women he usually caroused with. He knew he was in trouble, and not from an outside foe. It was no-one he could fight or kill; then be done with. His carefully mapped out ideas on why he found Granger attractive, began to vanish. He was his own worst enemy.

He watched as she greeted ministry officials with a grace and refinement he found alluring. He could see her wide engaging smile as she placed a hand on somebody’s arm. The man turned to the left, and something snapped inside Draco. She was bestowing her grin on Jonathan. Draco pursed his lips in irritation. He did not like the wave of protectiveness which flowed through him. It was very un-Malfoy like. But, something in his gut told him to move.

He jumped over a ledge which was closest to the back waters. No-one would see him cloaked in darkness; all the tourists would be congregating in the square. He grasped a vine as he fell, jolting against the wall four metres below. He hung for a second, angry at his brashness. He just wanted to bed the chit, not defend her honour. What was wrong with that?

“Slow down you, Pillock. Granger is not in any danger of sleeping with him; jealousy is not what you’re feeling.” He didn’t like the sensation of heart burn which struck him at the thought of Granger and Jonathan, sweaty and naked together. He rationalised his lunch must of given him indigestion.

At a much steadier and dignified pace, Draco climbed his way down, until he reached cobbled ground. He stood for a moment, wiping excess dust from his clothing. Draco took a second to look at his outfit. He’d always had a flair for the dramatic, and his Carnival costume did not disappoint. His black trousers tucked neatly into knee high pirate boots. A ruffled obsidian long sleeved shirt covered his torso, and a long black cape inlaid with blood red lining fell from his shoulders, hitting the ground. It was contrasting, yet striking; as was his mask. For an extra fail safe, Draco placed light contact lenses in his eyes, so they appeared more blue than grey. Once he was satisfied his costume was perfect, he placed the mask on securely. It covered the majority of his face, only his lips and part of one cheek was visible. The mask was pure black, slashed with red, which complimented his cape. The finishing touch came as he placed a large black hat with feathered plumes over his telltale white blonde hair.

Draco gained many appreciative looks as he passed people by. He thought it only fitting, as he wore the best tailored costume in the square. Yet, his focus was soon elsewhere. Holding his head high in a confident, arrogant fashion which was not feigned, he came upon Hermione talking to the man who’d interrupted them the evening before. Draco resisted the urge to punch him. Last night could have ended in a much more satisfying way; if they had not been stopped. The two ceased chatting, and watched him as he approached.

He saw Hermione’s eyes widen behind her mask, and he stopped the smirk he wanted to display. It was too obvious, his trademark expression. He found it hard to control himself though, especially when he could tell she was appreciating the figure he cut. He looked good, and he knew it.

“Sir? Can I help you? This is an official VIP area, do you have a pass?” Her voice was pitched loudly since the band had just begun. Draco actually hadn’t thought past getting to Granger. Now he was stuck, until a couple bumped him in dance. Brilliance struck.

“A dance, with the most bewitching woman in the square, tis all I ask.”

He watched as she thought it over, her face unreadable under the mask. He was glad the background noise drowned out his voice somewhat. Since he couldn’t glamour it differently, he spoke in a lower register. Draco’s chest tightened, waiting for her dismissal. He didn’t have a back up plan. All he wanted was to get her away from Jonathan, especially when she looked so sexy. Hell, he was no better; he wanted her spread-eagled on his bed.

“Herbert, will you be okay for a while?”

Draco felt smug satisfaction as Herbert’s jaw dropped. Obviously, Granger was deviating from the official Ministerial plan. Which was a good thing, Draco needed her pliant. He held out his arm, and her eyes narrowed slightly. It lasted a second only; Draco frowned, wondering why she hesitated. In a matter of moments though, he was leading her further into the square.

Draco spun Hermione around, twirling her lightly as their fingers entwined. Her hooped dress bumped against his legs and he had the insane notion to rip it off and hold her close to him. Flesh against flesh. Then as her chocolate brown eyes gazed into his, he realised she had no idea who he was. She was merely dancing with another reveller in the craziness which was Carnival. A delicious thought went through his mind. He could say and do anything he pleased, with no repercussions. He wasn’t Draco Malfoy; he had no façade to upkeep. He whirled her out, and grasped her hand at the last moment; tugging hard so she fell against him. He heard her small gasp, and relished the feel of her hand splayed across his chest as she steadied herself.

“What is your name, mysterious masked one?” Her voice was low and curious. He had piqued her interest.

“I have no name. I am just a pretence, of what should be, and from which dreams are made.”

“Really? To have no name is such a sad predicament. May I give you one?”

Draco could not believe she was flirting outright with him. She wasn’t fighting it every step of the way, though he noticed she lacked her usual spark. Then for the second time in the space if a minute, it hit. She wasn’t flirting with him. She was flirting with a Black Ops Assassin, though she had no idea. To her, she was just dancing with a roguish, tall, young Englishman. One, who’d swept her off her feet, then began twirling her through the crowd. Draco was putting his entire operation at risk, just to feel her body against his. The worst of it was, he gained nothing in return. He was turning into a bloody sap. He glanced over to the VIP area and saw Jonathan talking to another cabinet member. He knew he should go. Draco looked back down at Hermione, and all thoughts of leaving vanished with her smile; he would stay put for the moment. But, only because he had a great view of Jonathan, it had nothing to do with how remarkable Granger felt in his arms.

“You may name me, as long as I can return the favour.”

Her face lit up under the half mask in delight. He thought she was mesmerizing, he thought he was a god-damn moron.

“Of course you can. Maybe I’ll call you the Black Knight.”

Draco stilled for a second, wondering how she managed to guess his CMOA code name. But, of course she didn’t, she couldn’t. It was merely an observation on her behalf. He continued to twirl them. Her guess shook his self-assurance momentarily. He swallowed hard, only barely remembering to keep in character.

“And how do you know I am not a knave, who plans to steal something important from you?”

“I don’t, but something tells me I can trust you.”

He was suddenly, and inexplicably jealous of himself. It was a ridiculous notion, one he couldn’t even wrap his head around. All he knew was that he had to sabotage himself in front of Granger. He couldn’t have her liking him…more than him. Not if he, Draco, wanted to bed her anyway. He whirled her through the crowd further away from the VIP area. He saw Jonathan talking to two of his guards, then they broke away. Damn it, Draco needed to follow. He had to get away from Granger and could only think of one thing to do. It was a stupid, irrational, perfect diversion. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her.

Their lips met, soft and succulent. She parted her mouth on a gasp, and he invaded her with his tongue. It smoothed around her lips darting in every so often, eliciting a moan from her. Merlin, she was so responsive, he was losing himself in the moment. He went to move away, but she wrapped her small arms around his neck pulling him in. He was lost, who was he to say no. As she trailed her hands down his back he was jolted into awareness. Granger wasn’t kissing him; it was the Black Knight she was snogging senseless. He wanted Granger to know it was him who held her. He wanted her to look up, eyes wide in arousal and anticipation, and know it was Draco who made her tremble. He felt anger boil up. How dare she throw herself into such a heated kiss with a stranger? He pulled back abruptly and saw her flushed neck and dreamy eyes behind the mask. He leant in close to her ear.

“I have to go now.” He felt her shiver as his breath tickled her ear. “I have to go and kill your boss. Thank you for the dance.”

He didn’t even look at her when she gasped, he was long gone. Draco just disappeared into the crowd, ignoring the shouts that chased him. He had a job to do.


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Hermione stood stock still, reeling from the last few minutes. Her head was completely fuzzed; and her chest ached. What was wrong with her? She let herself get carried away, with a strange man no less. It was the kiss which had her flummoxed. Malfoy was on her mind. He had been since the library incident. And when the tall man whom she dubbed the Black Knight kissed her, her mind played a trick. She actually thought it was Malfoy kissing her. And she responded wantonly. Her face heated as embarrassment washed over her.

Her love life till this point had been non existent, almost for over two years now. She had broken off her last liaison when Edward became too serious. Hermione wanted to live a little and have a meaningless fling. It didn’t work out that way though. Rarely, did things go according to her plans. She stood contemplating her sorry state of affairs for a second, when it struck her.

“Oh gods, Jonathan.”

Hermione hiked up the hoop dress as far as she dare, then began pushing her way through the crowd. Masked faces blurred her vision, and music and laughter made her lose her sense of direction. She stumbled slightly, and somebody grabbed her arm swinging her into a dance.

“Sir, sorry, let me go. I have to find somebody.”

The man continued to twirl her and she felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her. She pushed hard against his chest and managed to get free. She saw the top of the VIP tent a few hundred meters away, and strode for it. Merlin, she hated crowds, she had never gotten used to them.

Hermione wondered whether the Black Knight had been serious when he’d whispered to her. How did he know who she worked for? Did he know who she was? How was he going to kill Jonathan? The more she thought about it, the more it seemed ludicrous. He had to be toying with her. There were way too many people here to kill anybody. Maybe he just needed an excuse to escape from her. Her stomach sunk with the notion. She couldn’t even keep a strange man entertained for longer than a dance. Was she such a dismal kisser?

Her thoughts inadvertently stopped on Draco Malfoy. He was definitely more than interested in her last night. And the kiss was beyond electric. She wondered how far she would have let it go if Herbert hadn’t intruded. She felt herself moisten with the reflection. She would have gone all the way, with no hesitation. Malfoy had certainly been cocky; it was a vice of hers. The bossy know it all, loved to be dominated. It was something none of her other partners had been able to bring to the bed. Not that she was into full BDSM, but a small amount of powerlessness was titillating. Granted, she had never broached the subject with any of her past lovers. She didn’t want to seem perverted by getting them to tie her up and force her hand. A delicious shiver went through her body, Draco would do it though, while guaranteeing the orgasm of her life; she knew it.

Just before she reached the VIP area, a hand snaked out of the crowd and she was spun on her feet. Instinctually she went to hit out, until she realised who had her arm. Herbert stood there, a frown on his face and a small look of panic growing.

“Where have you been? Jonathan sent the hired goons away twenty minutes ago. I was going to follow, but you’d disappeared with that tall fellow. Then Jonathan himself vanished. I have no idea where any of them went. One minute they stood there, the next, gone.”

Hermione felt a pang of guilt. She’d let Herbert down, no, she’d let the team down. It was completely out of character for her. Though, she reasoned, Jonathan often sent his personal guards on errands for him. He usually didn’t require protection from either her or Herbert.

Maybe she had been too hasty traipsing off. Something big was happening, or maybe not. Hermione berated herself for being melodramatic. In the year she had worked for Jonathan, nothing remotely dire had occurred. Why would now be any different? Then the Black Knights words returned to her.

Hermione tried to use her reasoning capabilities. The goons, as Herbert had dubbed them, were probably going to find a woman for Jonathan. That’s why he had left the square as well. Hermione’s nose scrunched up in distaste. Jonathan was not her idea of an attractive man. Too smarmy, she had an image of an octopus when she thought of him romantically. She had an idea his hands would be everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. Malfoy on the other hand, was definitely her idea of one. She stopped her thoughts, he was the reason she was in this sticky situation, now her hand had to be forced.

“I’m sorry Herbert, Carnival fever hit me. I’m sure Jonathan’s fine. He does this all the time.”

Herbert shook his head and held out the latest edition of The Daily Prophet for her to see. She gasped and almost dropped it. Oh Merlin, she was so wrong, and in so much trouble if her superiors found out. A picture of Jonathan graced the front cover, he was smiling and waving. That’s not what she found surprising, it was the spell written in red ink over his face. The killing curse.

“Oh, Merlin. I think Jonathan may be in true danger.”

Herbert looked deep into her eyes, then grabbed her shoulders. She thought he might shake her, but he just stared. “Are you completely sure, Hermione? I can’t put the plan in motion until there is no doubt.”

“Of course I’m sure, when have I ever simply followed a folly?” She ignored the small voice which told her she had followed it about half an hour ago, and now had a threat over her bosses head. Good going Granger, played like a fiddle.

Herbert watched her a second, then looked grim. She could see his brain whirling as he came up with answers which created more questions. Finally he let go of her shoulders. She was glad, the last time someone grabbed her like that, she was kissed thoroughly. Hermione ignored the heat which kindled deep in her stomach.

“I’m just not sure it’s the right time. Its Carnival, too many people, witnesses…” He trailed off, while looking around.

Hermione looked out over the crowd and pursed her lips. He was right, of course. But it couldn’t be helped. Her superiors hadn’t contacted her with orders in weeks; she was effectively working on her own. If she was to perform her job properly, she had to follow through on her chosen course.

“Herbert, the plan needs to be actioned, no questions, just do it.”

His eyes widened, and when he could see she was serious, he curtly shook his head once and took off in the opposite direction. Hermione usually worked alone, but the company decided the threat she was working against required a team of more than one. Herbert and she had been undercover for over a year. Everything was going great until Malfoy scrambled her sensibilities and she lost focus for a moment. Now it could be too late.

Hermione briskly walked to the nearest building and slipped down the side alley. She leaned heavily against the wall and took a deep shaky breath. It was time, it had come earlier than expected, but she knew it was coming.

Her orders came from the highest quarter, CMOA. Hermione Granger, a Black Ops operative, was to capture Jonathan Rothman for crimes against the wizarding community. And now she had to thwart an unknown assassin all whilst not getting herself, or Herbert killed. Oh Merlin, she was in a world of trouble.


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A/N: Well, I hope you all liked the second installment of this silly little plot I came up with! This will be in five parts and I really hope you all like where it goes! Although extra special thanks go to, Dreamweaver, straightlyconfused, RosieRaven, dracoschick007, redrain520, Panther Eyes, xLittleRobinx, Insolence, Avanell and JadeLucky for taking the time out to review! You guys made my day with such lovely comments!!