The Spy Game

A figure barreled out of the semi-darkness like a bull charging at a red flag. Hermione had a split second of fear before they grabbed her around the waist, dragging her towards a niche. God damn it, when would she catch a break? It had to be Malfoy, who else? How he managed to recover so quickly was beyond her. Hermione thought she had kneed him pretty good. Well, he was an arrogant prat, so he was probably used to being hit in the Malfoy royal junk. But, what was he doing dragging her into an invisible hollow? Maybe she didn’t want to know, since her knee and his boys had been recently acquainted. She could feel how tense he was, he was pissed at her – oh goody.

“You bloody imbecile. Let. Me. Go.” She snarled through clenched teeth, he wasn’t the only angry one.

Malfoy chuckled low in his throat which made her stomach clench. Her reaction to him infuriated her even more. Grinning she kicked out, connecting with his shin. He grunted in annoyance and squeezed tighter, Hermione gasped for air.

“If you won’t let me go, then at least let me bloody breathe.”

“If I let you breathe, you have to be quiet. Though I know it’s a known impossibility where you’re concerned.” His voice was quiet and too close to her ear for comfort. Hermione nodded sharply. She didn’t want to obey him, but if it meant he wouldn’t hold her so close - she would do almost anything. His grip loosened.

“Better, and don’t pretend to know me, Malfoy. You gave up the right many moons ago. What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Hermione ended on a hiss.

He said nothing in response; just shushed her. Affronted, she squirmed around until she could face him. Trying desperately to ignore his taut chest, she looked up towards his face. She had also forgotten how much taller than her he was. Hermione’s other vice was tall men who wore expensive cologne. Oh Merlin, he smelt nice - too nice. Hermione tried breathing through her mouth, whilst ignoring the warm arm which was still wrapped around her waist. It was proving harder than she’d thought.

It was at that moment the train hurtled into the tunnel. Light from the engine cascaded into the area - seeking out hidden crevices. The niche Malfoy had concealed them in was the only one to stay partially hidden. Yet, Hermione could still see the platform quite well.

“Malfoy…answer me…” His hand clamped down over her mouth. She let out an irritated breath through her nose.

The train came to a halt with a screech of steel which made her flinch. The doors opened quickly, and heavy footfalls echoed around the platform. Hermione saw a few familiar faces from The Firm and tried to remove herself from Malfoys grip. He only held on more furiously.

One man stood out from the rest. Timothy Pearson, The Firms proverbial muscle. He was dressed in full combat gear and talked rapidly into a walkie-talkie. He made the incredible hulk appear puny. Hermione only heard a few mumbled words. It sounded like they were here to capture people in relation to the murders of Isabelle and Marcus. But who? Malfoy – maybe?

Hermione had the unnatural urge to bite Malfoy’s finger and yell out. He must have sensed it, because he quickly removed his hand. His eyes met hers - immediately a silent warning issued with just that look. Draco’s brow furrowed, and before she could decide on a course of action; he moved.

She watched in fascinated horror as his head descended towards hers. He was going to bloody well kiss her. She didn’t even have time for a strangled gasp as his lips met hers. Of course, Hermione knew Draco was only doing this to keep her quiet. Obviously he didn’t want Timothy to see them. Yet, in a deep recess of her mind, she realised she had waited for this kiss for seven years. But, her practical side won out and she began to struggle against him. How dare he think he could shut her up with a mere kiss – even one which was making her knees buckle?

All coherent thoughts on Malfoys ridiculous behavior fled as his tongue gently traced the seam of her mouth. Hermione moaned softly, then immediately regretted her small concession. He smiled against her lips and without further ado, penetrated her warmth. She scrambled for a thought, any thought – any one which had nothing to do with Draco’s hot tongue or the tingles racing through her body. She came up blank.

Involuntary she pressed herself into him, barely noticing when her traitorous hand snarled itself in the soft hair at the base of his neck. He groaned in the back of his throat, and desire tore straight to her groin. Tugging his hair so his lips lifted slightly, she bit and held his bottom lip with her teeth. He shuddered against her as she pushed him even further into the niche. His scalding kisses egged her on beyond all reasoning and she lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip.

“Merlin, Granger. You’re even hotter than I imagined.”

Like a bucket of cold water, these words stopped her dead. Jumping away from him, she slapped his face in pure reflex. Thankfully, the sound was drowned out by the train engine revving. Hermione ignored Draco’s thunderous face and berated herself heavily. What the hell was she thinking? She hated him, he was the enemy, he was a stuck up chauvinistic pig that’d left her for dead. He was also probably using her for his own means, and his lips were utterly delectable. No, no they weren’t - stupid brain. When Hermione came back into herself, she found she was pushing her wand into Draco’s throat.

“If you ever, ever try anything like that again,” Hermione moved the wand from his pulse point and pressed it against his crotch. “I will hex what you value most, into oblivion. Do you understand?”

Infuriatingly, Draco appeared non-plussed by her outburst. He lifted a corner of his mouth into a half smile – which didn’t affect her in any way – and grasped her wand, removing it from its delicate position.

“Oh, Granger. You have no idea what I value most.” His smile was unsettling to say the least; the train revved again. “We have to go – now.” Draco was looking over her shoulder at the train which was starting to slowly move away from the now deserted platform.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. The Firm has sent reinforcements; I have to go help them find Camille. Unless you want to tell me where you stashed her?”

Draco sighed in annoyance. “At some point today you will come to the momentous realisation that every thing you thought you knew – is an utter fabrication. This is the last time I will say it; and you know how I hate to repeat myself – I don’t have Camille, and I didn’t kill any operatives – especially Marcus, we grew up together for Merlin’s sake.”

Hermione heard the truth in his words, but was still not convinced that she should go anywhere with him. There were protocols and procedures which had to be followed. If she disappeared now, they might think she was also missing and spend resources trying to find her instead of focusing on Camille.

“Granger, we will get your partner back. But, you have to trust me – come on.”

He grasped her hand, tugging her towards the moving train. Hermione dug in her heels, no; she had to do this the right way. She had to find Timothy and explain what had happened, it was the right thing to do. Running off to god knows where with Malfoy – a wizard who was on the top ten most wanted list – was not in her carefully laid out plans.

“Halt – traitor!” A booming voice overshadowed Hermione’s thoughts. Spinning around she saw Timothy standing; legs wide apart and a stun-gun drawn. He looked furious.

It took a second for her to compute he had used the word ‘traitor’ in regards to her. Did he think she was in league with Malfoy? No, that would be ludicrous.

“Timothy, thank Merlin you’re here. Camille’s missing, we have to find her.” Hermione shrugged off Malfoy’s hand; which was still trying to grasp hers.

“Be quiet! Place your wand on the ground where I can see it. And step back with your hands on your head.” Timothy’s voice was so thunderous; it made the train appear positively silent.

“But…” Hermione trailed off, not sure what kind of new hell she’d stepped into.

“Do it, now!” Hermione almost threw her wand down in fear; then slowly placed her hands on her head. She felt a small tingle as Draco placed his finger tips on the small of her back. How come Timothy wasn’t yelling at him too? “Hermione Granger, I am placing you under arrest for the murders of Isabelle Reid and Marcus Flint; also for the disappearance of Camille Rogers.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped as she spluttered incoherently. Timothy holstered the gun and began to walk towards her. At the same time, Draco fisted her shirt and pulled her backwards. Wide-eyed she watched as Timothy yelled out to her. But, confused and almost disorientated Hermione let herself be propelled backwards.

Malfoy grabbed her hand and pulled furiously. “Granger, wake the hell up. My scrambling spell is weakening; they’ll be able to see me in a minute. You need to be with me for this.”

Huh? What was Draco on about? Scrambling spell, with him? She was wanted for the murder of her co-workers and the kidnapping of her missing partner. Her brain whirled for a safe place to land, whilst she figured out logically how The Firm came to this insane conclusion.

Suddenly her right shoulder almost came out of its socket. The pain of Malfoy wrenching it brought her back to reality. She found herself running – running towards the back of the train which was six feet away and the gap was only widening.

“Oh crap, Malfoy. You’re bloody insane, I can’t…”

Hermione found she could. She flew through the air in a jump which would have put her in gold medal contention at the Olympics. She hit the metal grill on the back of the last carriage hard. Pain rocketed through her hand and she knew she had scraped at least four layers of skin from it. Her left ankle gave a scream of pain; then quieted to a painful throb almost immediately.

Looking behind them she saw the furious figure of Timothy disappear as they rounded a bend.

“Granger, are you okay?” Malfoy’s voice startled her; he was close, too close.

Roughly she pushed him back, pain splitting her hand in half as the coarse fabric of his shirt ripped her shredded palm.

“Crap.” Hermione cradled her hand to her chest as she glared at Malfoy. “What the frig is happening? You’ve been back in my life for half an hour, and already I’m wanted for murder. What’s a damn scrambling spell?”

“Still won’t say fuck, Granger?” He rested himself up against the back door of the carriage, for all intense and purposes like he was relaxing and enjoying the joyride.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she flipped him the bird; instantly regretting it when the pain flared again. He chuckled as she winced. Crap, she was hopeless at remembering where she’d hurt herself.

“It’s something I came up with a few years ago, it’s a relatively weak spell which only lasts about two minutes, but it effectively hides me in plain sight.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow in question; he had come up with a new spell – on his own? The bookish part of her tried to stay impassive and not be impressed.

“It scrambles your enemy’s sight. They sense somebody is there, but can’t actually get a grasp on it. Although I haven’t perfected it, after a minute or so they begin to see a blur. An invisibility cloak would be perfect, but we all know who has that.”

Hermione smiled wryly, she was not going to get into a conversation about Harry. Though, she was uncomfortably awed at Draco’s spell weaving. It was good – and useful. Gingerly she moved herself so she was mimicking Malfoys position. She had to think, had to figure out what had happened. Her life had back-flipped in the most spectacular way. How and why did The Firm believe Hermione had caused that horrific crime scene? Camille would back her up; she knew Hermione didn’t do it. But, Camille was missing. It all felt a little too convenient to her.

“We will have to jump off before the next station.” Malfoy’s voice startled her out of her contemplation.

Hermione looked at him incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t be daft, Granger. They know we are on the train. It belongs to The Firm, Timothy would have called it in and they’ll be waiting for us at the next stop. Hopefully he couldn’t get word to the guards on the train, and judging by the fact we haven’t been attacked yet – I’d say he couldn’t.”

Hermione prickled at his condescending tone. She wasn’t stupid, she just wasn’t thinking straight. Now she had time to sit here, her dislike of him grew even more. In her mind, he was the cause of all her problems, hell, as far as she was concerned he instigated global warming.

“I’ve listened to you so far, and look where I am. Hurt, on the back of an underground train, being chased for murders I did not commit. This has all happened since you appeared again. Why the heck did you come back? To ruin my god damn life?” Hermione didn’t even attempt to hide the bite in her voice, she was pissed.

Draco stiffened at her words. Then he looked at her squarely, his jaw clenched and unclenched a few times. Hermione pointedly did not look at his lips. “So you don’t want to play it nice. Fine, I can do that. I’m back to save your fucking ungrateful arse.”

Hermione let out a derisive laugh. “Like hell, you’re back for your own means. Don’t try and play the hero, it doesn’t suit you. I’m just a pawn in whatever game you’re playing. You have no idea what I’m going through…wrongly accused of…”

Malfoy slammed his hand down next to Hermione’s leg as he jumped to his feet, making her start.

“Right, Granger. I would never know what it’s like to be accused of a murder I didn’t commit…no, I know what its like to be accused of three of them and for masterminding a plot to kill another seventy. So do not sit there on your high horse because you’ve felt displaced for twenty minutes. I’ve fucking lived with it for six years…”

Draco trailed off as he looked back into the darkness of the tunnel. Every so often lights would illuminate the track. Hermione saw how stiff his shoulders were, and pushed down the pity she felt for him. Feeling weakness when up against Malfoy was not the way to proceed. She had already been taken in by him once. This time she wouldn’t – she couldn’t. She would stick with him long enough to find out what he knew; then she would find her own way.

“Okay, I concede you have a point. But, how the hell do we get off a train which is hurtling through a dark tunnel at 100miles per hour? I’m tough, but not that tough.” Hermione winced again as her ankle throbbed when she moved into a crouch and stood up.

Draco turned and chuckled in irony when he saw her flinch from pain. The deep sound reminded her of just before they kissed. She pressed her fingernails into her palm scrape to make sure she thought of something else. The pain gave her clarity; then she looked back at Malfoy.

“Yep, you’re tough as nails, Granger. The train refuels in about thirty miles; it’s a mid-way fuel station, no platforms. But, we can get off and Apparate out. No wards will prevent it since it’s in the middle of nowhere. The Firm thinks they have a fool proof train network. They need to research more; it took nothing for me to find out this glitch in their security.”

“There’s just one small problem with your plan, Mr. Know It All – my wand is back at the station.”

Draco looked at her with surprise written plainly across his face. “You. Left. Your. Wand, back there? Granger, you haven’t let that stupid wand out of your sight since the day Ollivander handed it too you. And the first time Timothy yells at you, you drop it and run.” Malfoy was actually smirking now. Hermione frowned.

“He’s bloody scary, Malfoy. I wasn’t thinking – I’d just been accused of murdering my friends. So, I’m sorry I panicked and…”

“Left such a powerful wand for the enemy’s to plant evidence on.” Draco finished off her sentence.

“That’s not what I was going to say…do you think that’s what they’ll do?”

Draco sighed again in impatience. “Yes, Granger. That’s exactly what they’ll do. Remember my wand?”

Hermione did, she had seen the evidence herself - too many ghostly apparitions came from the end of it when tested. It was now in a secure location in the vault of The Firm’s main office in London. Hermione’s pre-conceived notions of Draco’s guilt and his exile came under question. Had she been wrong? Had she hated him for no reason for 6 years when she should have tried helping?

Draco smirked at her. “God’s, Granger, they had you completely fooled. Who would have thought the ‘brainiest witch of her age’ could have been taken for a ride so easily.” Draco even punctuated the title Dumbledore had given her with his fingers. No, she had hated him for good reason for all these years. Because he was an infuriating conceited pillock.

“I hate you, Malfoy. And it has nothing to do with you abandoning me and leaving me to Azkaban for a month either. I hate you because…”

Draco slapped his hand to her shoulder, gripping it so tightly she thought his fingers would curl right around and pierce her skin. It was violent enough for her to stop mid-sentence.

“Ow, you’re hurting me.” Hermione looked up into grey eyes full of horror. She couldn’t understand his reaction, it was old news now.

“They put you in Azkaban? Those arseholes, those absolutely mental damn fucking arseholes.” Draco’s grasp tightened again, as his other hand gripped her wrist; his finger stroking her pulse point slowly as he stared into her eyes. Hermione had never felt so uncomfortable; one hand had a death grip whilst the other caressed her. He was the mental one, yet why was Hermione holding her breath in anticipation of his next move. Would it be pain – or pleasure?

“Please, let go. My shoulder is still currently attached to my body; I’d like to keep it that way.”

Thankfully, Draco let go, but he still held her wrist; driving her mad with his feather light strokes. What was he doing? Did he even realise?

“Tell me, Granger. Tell me what they did to you.” Draco’s voice was low and rough. Barely concealed fury punctuated each word. He didn’t release her wrist. Tingles raced up her arm to her slightly deadened shoulder. The combination of hurt and pleasure made her eyes flutter a second.

Why did he care now, he must have known what they would do to her. Surely he wasn’t that thick?

“What do you think they did, Malfoy? You were my partner accused of the biggest murder plot to rival Voldemort. Of course I was charged of being part of the conspiracy. When they didn’t catch you, then you failed to come forth to liberate me from any wrongdoing, they threw me in a holding cell at Azkaban. It took Marcus a month to get me out and prove my innocence.”

Hermione felt a pang of loss, knowing Marcus was gone. She would spend the rest of her measly life finding out who had killed him. She refused to take the blame.

Malfoy’s forehead suddenly rested on hers, startling her out of her thoughts of Marcus. His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. Then they opened and stared right into her soul. She forgot to breathe. His fingers hesitated on her wrist; then he drew back almost violently, letting go of her completely. Hermione almost stumbled, she didn’t even realise she was leaning into him.

“Right, aside from all that, are you good to go now?” His tone was all business, no emotion, no nothing. Had she imagined his compassion? What an arse. Hermione was always so unsure of herself when he was around. Malfoy made her feel a million different things, the majority of them unpleasant. Well if he could just shrug off the darkest days of her years, so could she. It would be the last time she opened herself up to him; he could just suffer in silence the next time he asked about her past.

“Yes, apart from the wand…”

Draco held up his hand to show a wand she’d never seen before. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Is that a bootlegged wand? Malfoy, that’s illegal.”

He shook his head in wonder. “How do you think I’ve lived all these years without detection? Relying on my wit and good looks…well actually, I may have done just as well if that were the case.” He smirked again, making Hermione scowl.

“Being a gigolo aside, is that thing safe to use?”

Draco’s mouth curved up again. Damn him. “Relatively.”

The train began slowing down into a stop. Once there was no movement, Draco jumped off the back onto the tracks. Holding his hands up like she was a child, she fell into his arms. She didn’t want help, but she was hurt and it would be a stupid move not to accept his offer. She needed to heal so she could escape. Draco caught her under the arms and slowly let her onto the ground, so as not to jolt her ankle. She was surprised he remembered her injured foot. Though now she was on solid ground she realised it wasn’t too damaged, just sore.

Suddenly, the back door flung open and two very large guards bolted out. Obviously Timothy managed to get word to them. Hermione then realised the train had stopped, so all communication lines would be open. Due to the wards hiding the train, you couldn’t communicate with it whilst it was moving. Now they’d stopped – it was game on.

“Oh, shit a brick.” Hermione gasped.

Draco stilled, and looked at her; one brow rose. “That’s it, that’s all your going to say…shit a brick? Merlin, Granger, we need to work on your cussing.”

Hermione stared in disbelief; he was ribbing her while guards scrambled off the back of the train, with the intent of hurting them. He was unbelievable. She also knew there was a touch of crazy in him too, his mood swings were phenomenal. Joking one moment, furious the next then conceited within a second. Hermione didn’t know which one was his true self. But right now she needed kick-ass Malfoy, and hoped he’d been training

A guard ran over to her, and she lifted her fists into a fighting stance. Hermione didn’t need a wand; she had thousands of hours racked up in martial arts and hand to hand combat. She had many demons to flush out, and fighting made them disappear; even if only for a moment.

Before the guard had even stopped in-front of her, she’d pushed her open palm up into his chin, stunning him. The force behind her halted him in his tracks. She saw Malfoys look of surprise, but then the second guard jumped on him. Literally.

Hermione bit back an adrenaline fueled laugh at how ridiculous Malfoy looked with a guard being piggy backed by him. Then her guard regained his position. Hermione put pressure on her injured ankle and knew it would be worse after the fight. Yet, they had to escape, and since there was only one wand between them; they needed to be together to make a side-on Apparate.

Luck was on Hermione’s side and the man she was fighting was tall and gangly. He punched out at her. She ducked out of the way at the last moment, so he lost a bit of balance. Dropping into a crouch, she swept her leg around and connected with his shins. He went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting his head on the track. He didn’t move again, he was out cold.

“Well, that was easy.” Hermione knew if he had been an experienced fighter she would have been in trouble. Luckily, The Firm employed novice guards for the trains, since not once had it been attacked. The guards had only just begun the grueling training schedule, which made it a piece of cake to disarm them.

Hermione laughed out loud when she saw Malfoy spinning around rapidly, the guard still on his back. It looked like he was giving a whizzy to a child. Stopping abruptly, the guard tried to punch him. Draco slammed himself back against the tunnel wall, head-butting his attacker in the process. Hermione heard the guard gasp for breath as he got winded. He dropped from Malfoys back almost immediately.

Malfoy swaggered over to Hermione, and looked down at her guard.

“Not bad, not bad at all. You’ve improved - marginally.”

Hermione huffed in anger. “At least I dropped mine in half a minute; you were too busy playing leap frog with yours.”

He smirked down at her and pulled the wand out, the illegal bootlegged wand. “Ready, Granger?”

“Relatively.” She replied as Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulder and the world spun into a cacophony of sickening colours and feelings.