Lust, War and... Love?

My big thanks to margaritama for her wonderful beta work on this chapter!

angeles: Thank you for your continued support! I am certainly not abandoning this story. I have the whole fic outline mapped out. I'm already outlining the DH sequel to it! :-)

hotbabe: It shows how different Hermione and Draco's upbringing is, doesn't it? I'm glad you like the story, and I hope you will enjoy this chapter too. Thank you for reviewing!

kazfeist: Many thanks for your reviews! I appreciate your comments so much. :-)

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Hermione was running late for breakfast.

It was a dreary day outside: wind, rain and sleet. The weather matched her moods. Even the prospect of a free Sunday ahead did nothing to lift Hermione’s spirits.

After her bitter shock in the Prefects’ bathroom, Hermione insisted on early morning quickies to prevent Malfoy from prolonging their time together, which he wasn’t happy with, at all. Their last Saturday date was a sullen affair. Instead of staying with Draco for the rest of the night, Hermione left for her dorm immediately after satisfying her need.

Hermione hurried past the tables, her eyes avoiding the Slytherin table. She wasn’t able to dodge the sight of Ron’s arm wrapped around Lavender’s shoulders. Hermione nodded to Harry, who was sitting next to Ron, but her friend failed to notice her. Instead, Harry’s stare was on Ginny, who was chatting with Dean Thomas. Hermione’s spirits sank even lower. No one had any interest in her whatsoever, except the cursed Malfoy, who apparently considered her nothing more than an erotic plaything.

Worst of all, the Christmas break was looming large, and they had to figure out together how to continue their sex life without interruption. Unlike school, their potion-induced lust had no holidays.

Hermione found a vacant seat on the farthest end of the Gryffindor table, next to two seventh year girls, Leanne and Adelaide. She couldn’t see Harry and Ron from there, which was great. But she ended up facing the Slytherin table, and was well in the line of Malfoy’s sight. Hermione glanced at him as she tucked into her porridge. Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, he was talking to Pansy and Daphne across the table. Blaise towered nearby and apparently listened to Malfoy’s rant too. Holding his Slytherin court, as usual.

Hermione chewed on an apple tart and mused gloomily on her situation. It was so stupid of her to expect Malfoy to treat her as his equal. Of course, she knew from history books that arranged marriages and adultery were a norm of Muggle aristocratic life all over Europe (Louis XIV, the Sun King, and his royal court in 17th -18th century France, for example). It only was logical that the Pureblood wizarding elite followed suit. Nevertheless, it was one thing to read about it in books, and a totally different matter to be Bludgered with it, in reality.

Hermione’s heart and mind still reeled from her hurt and humiliation. To restore her self-esteem, she needed to distance herself from the damned Death Eater and focus on her spying mission, but she couldn’t do it. Hermione suddenly remembered that Lavender Brown was a Pureblood too, although of a more modest stock. This fact didn’t help either.

The best thing Hermione could do was bury herself in her studies. Almost all of her homework for the next week was done, except for two bonus assignments for Herbology and Ancient Runes. The Herbology essay would require a good deal of book research, which guaranteed to keep her busy for most of the day. At least, she was the top one in her classes, and that was something to be proud of.

The meal came to an end, and owls with the morning post flew into the Great Hall. Three of them descended in front of Hermione, bringing a letter from her Mum, another one from Dumbledore and a square package, which puzzled her slightly. She hid Dumbledore’s letter in her pocket to read later, in private, and opened the other envelope. Her eyes scanned her mother’s neat handwriting:

. . . We resolved not to travel this holiday but to have Christmas at home, as a family. It’s great that you’ll be coming home for the break. We all have been missing our time together, and this Christmas would be a wonderful chance to make up for it and strengthen our family connection . . .

The letter gave Hermione a bad premonition. Mum employed the same vocabulary before that ill-fated ski trip in the fifth year, when Hermione quit early and joined Harry and Ron at Sirius’ place for Christmas. She lied to her friends stating she wasn’t fond of skiing, because it was too difficult for her to explain her family problems to them.

The following summer was no better. She stayed most of the time with the Weasleys. Unbeknownst to them, their hospitality was truly her salvation. Then an apologetic letter from Mum and Dad arrived the first week of her school year, and Hermione was relieved that everything seemed to be back to normal at home. Still, she had a persistent worry that the things could go downhill any time.

Hermione put her mother’s letter aside and tore off the package wrappings. A dark red velvet box of chocolates emerged, the gold and silver arabesques on it shining brightly in the candlelight. Veuve Gauthier, Chocolatiere Supreme. The arabesques seemed to be alive, their wavy contours fluid and entwined, and small pictures of gleaming chocolate bonbons weaved through them.

A small folded note of crimson red parchment was attached to the side of the box. Hermione pried it open with her fingernail but quickly flattened it back, as she realised that everyone around her was staring at the box. Nevertheless, she glimpsed the calligraphic inscription in gold lettering inside. With compliments, Draco Malfoy.

“Whoa, Veuve Gauthier . . .” gasped Leanne and drew closer to see the box better.

“From whom?” Adelaide leaned over. “I saw exactly the same box in that fancy shop last summer. Remember the place, Leanne?”

“Oh yes. This one must cost no less than two hundred Galleons!” exclaimed Leanne. At these words, two third year girls next to her jumped to their feet and craned their necks.

“It’s from my parents,” Hermione said bluntly, and hurriedly stuffed the box into her school bag.

Did Malfoy really believe she could be bought like a courtesan?

“An early Christmas gift.” Her explanation was lame, she knew. Her whole life was lame.

Hermione walked out of the Great Hall. She instantly ran into Theo and Padma arguing in the front of the entrance.

“Can’t you believe me, after all?” Theo was clearly exasperated. “If Granger snogged someone, it wasn’t me!”

“Of course, doing it right in front of the Fat Lady!” Padma turned away and marched down the hallway angrily. “Don’t try to hoodwink me!”

Nott ran after her and blocked her path. “Listen to me, Padma!”

Padma halted and turned abruptly again. Her eyes fell on Hermione, and Padma stuck her chin up, indignantly. Theo gave Hermione a pleading look.

“Padma, it wasn’t Nott who snogged me on that night!” Hermione shouted, and came up to the couple. “Someone posed as Theo to lure me out of the Gryffindor Tower. He caught me by surprise too!”

“So you came out because you thought Theo asked you for a date?” Padma said bitterly.

“No, I was told that Theo wanted to discuss the night patrols. I thought he wanted to trade the times. I’m so sorry about the confusion, Padma.”

“Who was it then?” A glimmer of curiosity appeared in Padma’s anthracite-black eyes. Nott drew closer, his bony face alert.

“I won’t tell you.”

“I guess it wasn’t Weasley or Potter, right?” Padma exchanged glances with the Slytherin Prefect. “Tell me – I promise I’ll keep it a secret!”

“I’m not telling anyone,” Hermione stepped back and saw Malfoy lolling near a window in the company of Crabbe and Goyle. Loudly, she said, “In fact, I’m very angry with him now. He stooped so low that he screwed you, Nott!”

“Someone from Slytherin?” Nott asked quickly and looked around. His jaws hardened.

“A Slytherin?” Padma was eager to find it out. Hermione realised that Malfoy’s eyes were steadily fixed on the three of them.

“I won’t tell you. Leave me alone, please. Here.” Hermione pulled the package of chocolates out of her bag, tore off the folded red note and thrust the ornate box into Padma’s hands. “I’m so sorry. I really want you and Nott to make up.”

“But . . . but . . . is it a real Veuve Gauthier?” Padma gasped, and Theo looked over her shoulder at the box. “It’s so expensive!”

“To make up for the trouble. Enjoy!” Hermione turned on her heels and walked past a murderous-looking Malfoy.

Sheer madness filled Draco’s insides. His inability to curb her rejection infuriated him. The way Hermione reacted to his gift baffled him completely. Any other girl, including Pansy, would squeal with delight over it. In fact, he had never given his fiancée anything remotely close in value.

The morose and distant Granger became Draco’s nemesis. This last week had been a nightmare. Their early morning dates left him sleep-deprived because he stayed in the Room of Requirement until late, trying to speed up the repair of The Vanishing Cabinets. Unrelenting Aunt Bella demanded that he send her the progress reports daily. Mum was slipping into a low-key hysteria in her letters, as she reported on Father’s state and the Dark Lord’s latest doings.

The warm and cordial Hermione was his solace for a brief while before their rift in the Prefects’ bathroom, and he missed it terribly. This morning Draco walked in a daze, doing his best to act normal around his fellow Slytherins, while entertaining Pansy and her girlfriends at breakfast. He was barely able to hold himself together. He had to hammer some sense into Granger before he lost his last marbles. The holidays were approaching fast, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it. Of all the Christmases in his life, this one was going to be the most dreaded.

Abruptly, Draco commanded Crabbe and Goyle to go downstairs and wait for him in the Slytherin Common Room. Theo and Padma had already departed with the Veuve Gauthier bonbons. Draco darted down the side corridor after Hermione. He almost caught up with her, when she halted and turned around.

“Malfoy, I don’t need your bribes, understand?” She glared at him, clutching her school bag. “What you did to Nott was dishonest. Leave me alone, today!”

Before Draco had time to say anything, Hermione dove into a girls’ loo and left him alone in a deserted corridor.

In the safety of the loo, Hermione closed the stall door and leaned against it. She was in no mood to interact with Malfoy. He’d probably wait for her awhile, then give up and slink off to his House to take his anger out on an unlucky first year. He could be a vile beast when angry.

Hermione extracted Dumbledore’s letter from her pocket and unfolded it.

Dear Hermione,

Thank you for your latest note. It is imperative that you persuade your friend to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays. Since you will need to be with him, I informed Professor McGonagall that you might choose to stay at school for Christmas. In case you doubt such a possibility, I am certain that your friend would be very receptive to your gracious charms.

Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore


Hermione crumpled the letter and flushed it down the toilet. Merlin, now she had to sweet-talk Malfoy into staying at Hogwarts instead of spending Christmas with werewolves. What a lousy secret agent she was. She let her emotions and vain hopes override her duty, and fumbled her spying assignment in a most gross manner.

When she stepped out of the loo, she hoped for Malfoy to be already gone. Hermione needed some time to figure out how to approach the task Dumbledore gave her so unexpectedly. She couldn’t suddenly start acting all sweet to Malfoy after their epic falling out.

To her chagrin, a tall blonde figure was leaning against a pillar a few feet from the loo entrance. His eyes were the colour of thunderclouds.

“Let’s meet in the last classroom in that end and talk.” Resignedly, she came up to him, and gently touched his arm. An expression of a slight puzzlement appeared in his face. The darkness in his eyes receded. Her heart pounding, she turned and proceeded to their designation. She did not look back, knowing from the sound of his steps that he followed her.

Draco eyed the slender figure ahead of him, as he walked down the corridor. Granger could be such a mystery at times. He knew every nook and cranny of her body, but he could hardly comprehend her inner world. A soft touch of her hand miraculously tamed his anger. Surprisingly, her face did not look angry, although her reticence was very apparent. At least, it was clear she wasn’t going to bawl at him, he thought.

Once they entered a classroom, Draco cast locking spells on the classroom door and took the seat next to her. Hermione set her bag on the desk, not sure how to begin. He was sitting too close for her comfort but Hermione couldn’t move away either. Her objective was to appease and charm him, and it was the last thing she was fit to do at the moment. It would be easier to shag him mindlessly than to have any sort of a conversation. She stared at the well-worn desk surface in silence.

Draco gazed at Hermione’s profile warily. He was suspended in between the temptation to unleash his pent up fury at her and the desire to bring back her good disposition. His palms were clammy, and his head was heavy from lack of sleep. His pride was sore from her rejection of his gift, but he was now hesitant to bring it up.

“Draco, I wonder . . .” Hermione still avoided looking at him. “Did your father ever have a mistress?” Instantly, she cursed herself for the choice of a topic. A career as spy was definitely not her lot.

“Er . . . No idea.” Draco realised that this particular question had never entered his mind. “Not that I know of. He loves Mum.”

“How do you know your father loves your mother?” Wonderful. Now she had to keep the ball rolling.

“Because he said so. He doesn’t let anyone hurt her.” Draco racked his sluggish brain. His anger had largely dissipated. ”He said Mum is the best woman he could wish.”

“Was their marriage arranged?”

Draco scrutinized the desk surface. To tell the truth, he was confused about his parents. He always submitted to their authority, especially Father’s. Their superiority used to be his rock and shield, in the larger world.

Over the past few months, a lot of facts had surfaced that made him doubt his own parents. He did not know how to handle it. Hermione had an advantage of not being a hardcore Pureblood. Draco hoped she would be less likely to be affronted by his revelations. He clung to every glint of hope, no matter how small.

“I don’t know. It’s odd, really.” He wondered what her reaction would be. “I mean, I thought they were proper and everything.”

“Did you discover something that your parents didn’t tell you about?” Her brown eyes searched his face.

“Sort of. I overheard Auntie Bella screaming at Mum once. Father got mad and told Bellatrix to shut up. Said if she brought it up again, he’d hex her speechless, permanently.” Draco was circling around, not daring to get to the very issue that perplexed him so much.

“What was it about?” It was the first time Hermione heard him talk about his family in such details. “Did your parents explain anything to you?”

“Mum was like a stone. It was no use to ask her about anything.” Draco rubbed his finger on the surface of the desk. “I talked to my cousin, Tonks. I ran into her a while ago – she’s on Auror duty here.”

“What did Tonks say?” Hermione’s mind was working. The fact that he talked to his estranged cousin made her wonder if the relations between the Black sisters were more complex than she thought.

“Tonks did not know for sure at first but she asked her mother. Aunt Andromeda wrote me a letter. Said that Mum was engaged to marry Uncle Rodolphus but eloped with a Muggleborn instead. That she never liked Uncle Rodolphus.” Draco remembered how befuddled Tonks looked when he accosted her in one of the hallways.

Hermione’s expression warmed up visibly and she was now facing him, directly. It put him more at ease. He reclined in his chair but held back an urge to dig his fingers into her curls.

“How did your father marry your mother?” Hermione asked thoughtfully.
She would have never guessed that the haughty Narcissa had tried to elope with a Muggleborn.

“The Muggleborn boyfriend cheated on Mother, and she returned. The Lestranges denounced Mum because she disgraced herself, and Uncle Rodolphus married Auntie Bella instead. They still wanted to add the Black family magic to theirs.” Draco drew a breath, his eyes searching for a response in Hermione’s face. She held his gaze steadily. “My Dad proposed Mum two weeks after she returned. Aunt Andromeda said Father fancied Mother at school.”

“It looks like your father loved your mother very much,” Hermione mused. She would have never thought that Lucius Malfoy could be capable of anything like this. It was unsettling to discover that the notorious Death Eater could have a better side to him, but she had to be fair to Draco. “Think of it – he picked her up after she was denounced for her trespass. I imagine what a scandal it was then. In fact, I admire your father’s act.”

“Auntie Bella said that no one would marry Mum after what she did, if not for Dad. I hated my aunt.” Hermione’s sympathetic attention to his words made him feel a little better.

“If your father still cares for your mother like you said, I doubt he’s had any paramours.” Hermione straightened in her seat and looked at the blackboard again. She remembered her parents and anxiety rose in her heart again. “How about your Aunt and Uncle? Are they happy together?”

“Uncle Rodolphus and Aunt Bella?” He took in the sight of the skin of her neck peeking from under her brown locks. “He doesn’t care that much about her. Uncle lives with another witch – I’ve seen her. Auntie doesn’t bother with that. She’s crazy about You-Know-Who, and basically lives at the Manor now. Makes everyone’s life a hell there.”

They sat in a silence for a few minutes.

“You know what?” Draco spoke up. “Forget what I said to you the other day.”

“Forget what?” Hermione’s eyes flung at him.

“About you becoming my mistress.” Draco hoped it would soothe her a bit. He could see that she was in a much better mood now. He had to pull off his remorse act properly, and everything would be all right between them. “I – I just thought it was a good way to make sure you’re safe. Sorry I upset you. You’re my best witch ever, Hermione.”

“Okay.“ Hermione studied Malfoy’s face. He could be such a sweet-talker when he wanted, she thought. “Anyway, we can’t be together.”

“You’re so beautiful and sexy, Hermione.” Draco was glad it was working. “Let’s take it easy and see how it all turns out in the end.”

“Could you do me a favour?”

“Sure.” Draco put his arm around her shoulders and she did not resist. He took it as a good sign.

“Don’t tell me you love me. I won’t believe you, Draco.” Hermione did her best to stay grounded in the reality.

“Why?”

“I overheard you saying it to Pansy. The other day in the library.”

“Only to get her off our backs, Hermione.”

“Yes. It’s easy for you to pretend and lie to get your way. Haven’t you been trying to placate me just now? Honestly?”

“Well . . . maybe a little bit.” Draco felt like he was walking a tightrope. His brain was too tired for this maneuvering.

“I don’t need glossing over reality and trying to pretend that everything is nice and well. I’ve had it with my parents.”

“I promise I won’t tell you that I love you. But I want you so much. Really.” The part about his desire for her was easy for him because it was true.

“I want you too, Draco. I need you because of the potion, but now I think I want more of you too.” Hermione spoke fervently, and he soaked her words in like a sponge. “I don’t think I’m in love with you. Love is too big a word. It’s misused too much. For your peace of mind, I’m not in love with Ron or Harry either. We are friends and that’s all.“

“All right. So eloquent of you.” Draco could settle with it, for now. “What’s that thing about your parents?”

“My mother and father were separated for awhile this year.” Hermione sighed. “We went on a ski trip last Christmas because Mum said we needed to spend more time together. It was horrible.“

“Did your parents fight a lot?” He wondered what was going on in Hermione’s home. She had never revealed much about her family. Probably she didn’t have much good to tell, he thought. Poor thing.

“I didn’t see them fight at all. But it was so tense, and I couldn’t understand it. Once, I caught Mum crying but she said it was nothing. My parents were nice to each other around me. Everything was wonderful and great, but it sounded so false. I couldn’t bear it, and left early. Lied to them that I needed to go back to Hogwarts to study for the term ahead.”

Hermione snuggled in Draco’s embrace, as he pulled her closer. “In April, Aunt Perpetua sent me a letter. She’s Mum’s eldest sister and she’s wonderful. Well, she’s chatty and meddles in everyone’s business, but she’s so cordial and kindhearted, I forgive her everything,“

“What did your Aunt tell you?” The tidbits of Hermione’s Muggle life ignited his interest.

“She told me that my mother and father were having a rift. Dad moved out. She wanted me to be prepared when I came back for summer holidays. Then, I received Mum’s letter. She only said that she and Dad were sorting out a few differences, and that everything would be all right.”

Hermione twisted her fingers in her lap. Why, of all people, was she telling all this to Malfoy? She never shared it with anyone in her wizarding circle, because she wanted to leave it behind in the Muggle world, to block it out as if it never existed.

She looked at Draco. His face held a strange expression. He seemed to be less guarded and his emotions showed more distinctly than usual. The clear interest in his eyes was mixed with tired sadness. He was not angry with her anymore. On the contrary, his tone was soft, not in an appeasing way but in a more sincere one.

“Ah. Parents never tell you things as they are. Mine are the same. Father was so big about being a Death Eater, being so close to You-Know-Who. When I was made one, he wasn’t happy at all.” Draco paused and said bitterly, “I was even angry with him for it then.“

“Are you glad you’re a Death Eater?” Hermione asked warily.

“Damn – don’t ask me, okay? “ Draco did not want to venture into the treacherous waters. He changed the topic. “Your folks aren’t back together, yet?”

“They reconciled at the end of August. I received a letter from them the first week of school.” Hermione understood Mafloy spared her a harsh answer, and she even felt appreciative. It was so much easier to talk to him about her family matters. Unlike her friends, he listened to her.

“During the summer, it was unbearable. I wanted to support Mum, and I stuck with her at home.” Hermione continued abjectly. “Then, she suggested I visit my cousins for a weekend. When I returned home, Mum was having tea with a man. Said they were old friends. Mum tried to explain something about him later that night. I understood she was seeing him, and it made me feel awful.”

Hermione twiddled a strand of her hair. She tried not to sound too whiny. “I went to stay with Aunt Perpetua for a week, and then spent the rest of the summer with the Weasleys. Aunt Perpetua was very no-nonsense about it all. Told me my parents messed up big time. You know, it’s easier for me to talk to my Aunt because I sometimes feel like Mum and Dad are complete strangers to me. They live their own life and I know almost nothing of it.“

Draco had never seen Granger so subdued. He could see her lips twitch slightly, as she told him about the way her parents walled themselves from their daughter. It was clear it pained her. He remembered his own father, who often was taken up by mysterious business matters. And his mother, who would give him a quick hug and kiss, only to disappear for the day, vaguely citing important social obligations.

“Same here, my parents always were so busy. I was with house-elves and tutors. One of our librarian house-elves was so funny, I hung out at the library just to watch him.” A slight smile crossed Hermione’s lips and it encouraged Draco. He plowed ahead. “Are you - er - angry with your folks?”

“Angry? No.” Hermione hesitated. “Bitter – yes. They wanted to hide it all behind the false pretences. They acted so nice with each other, and they were already separating. I don’t even know why they broke up in the first place. Aunt Perpetua doesn’t know either.” She looked into his eyes. “My Mum’s last letter about Christmas plans scares me, really. It reminds me of that one she wrote me before the ski trip. The same talk about strengthening family bonds. Everything seems to be all right, but I can’t trust them.”

“Parents can act like a load of dragon dung.” Draco stared at the desk. “Mine didn’t tell me the truth either. That Mum ran away with a Muggleborn, and it wasn’t a big deal to Dad. I thought they were so perfect, always mixed only with Purebloods.”

Unexpectedly for himself, Draco added, “Father used to compare my grades to yours a lot.”

“Did he?”

“He did not like that a Muggleborn was the top one in nearly everything. Always told me to beat you to prove my Pureblood superiority. And I tried, very hard!”

“Aren’t we alike?” Hermione chortled. “You know, I competed with you, too. I couldn’t stand your Pureblood pride. I assume it’s quite a conquest for you to shag me now. Am I right? Honestly?”

“What conquest is it if no one knows about it?” Draco smirked. “It’s only you and I. Anyway, our parents fed us some rubbish, right?”

“And we try to delude ourselves too.”

“How?”

“Very simple. I deceived myself into thinking that you considered me as an equal. You convinced yourself that you could keep me and marry a proper Pureblood witch. The fact of life is that we must part our ways after we take the antidote. You’ll take your family-approved Pureblood route, and I’m going to find my own place in this world.”

“You’re thinking along a straight line, really. There are always ways to get around whatever stupid rules we have to deal with.”

“You’re talking like a Slytherin. I am different. I don’t agree with being a second-class citizen, in the first place.”

“You aren’t a second-class, at all. Lots of Pureblood witches would die to have your looks and smarts.”

“Your Mr. Appeaser is at work again, Draco,” was her verdict.

“Can’t you just stop belittling yourself?” He tried to distract her by nuzzling her ear.

“Still, I’m not good enough for you to marry.”

“Does it mean you want me to marry you?”

“Merlin, no!”

“Then why are you so worried?”

“You’re impossible, Malfoy!”

Hermione huffed and stood up to leave. Draco made a futile attempt to pull her down by the sleeve of her robe. Although their conversation made her more at home with this blond boy, she had a strong need for some space to mull things over and to try to figure out her own stance in this relationship.

Surprisingly, they could talk even if they didn’t agree on everything. Hermione briefly imagined what it would be like to talk about her family to Harry and Ron. They would never understand. Harry would just gloss over it, and Ron – well, she’d best not recall some of his asinine remarks.

“I’m going to the library to do the bonus Herbology assignment.” Hermione pointed her wand at the door to undo the Locking Charms.

“You’re a chronic overachiever, Granger,” Draco jested. Any sort of extra bonus homework would be the last thing on his mind. “I’d rather get more sleep.”

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” His looks were so pale and careworn lately, she thought. “Did your Dark Mark hurt again?”

“No, it didn’t hurt.“ Draco ran his hand through his hair. “Hell, I’m tired, and everyone is so damn annoying. Crabbe and Goyle, and the others too.”

“You look so stressed. You need to take the Calming Draught.” She reached into her school bag for the bottle. It was half-full, which would last for a few more weeks, but Hermione could always ask Madam Pomfrey for more.

“Thanks.” Draco pocketed the bottle. “So, you’re off to do your sacred bonus homework?”

“Yes, and it’s really important to me.” Hermione made a few steps towards the door, and suddenly halted in her tracks. So much for her being a secret agent. She got carried away while griping about her parents to Malfoy, and Dumbledore’s request nearly slipped from her mind!

“Forgot something?” Draco asked quickly, secretly hoping Granger had changed her mind to stay with him.

“Well, I just remembered something.” Playing a seductress didn’t seem to be a passable strategy, Hermione thought, but it wouldn’t hurt to inquire about his plans. “What if we stay at Hogwarts for the holidays? I don’t feel like going home.”

“Do you think we’ll get permission? Everyone is going home. None of the Slytherins are staying.”

Draco’s brain, now fully awake, was doing some quick thinking. Snape would be very likely to want him to stay at school under his close supervision. On the other hand, could Snape tame his crazy Auntie and help him dodge the werewolf party?

Merlin’s bloody pants, the unlimited sex-bliss with Hermione in a, basically empty, castle would be well worth the trouble of having to deal with a pesky and nosy Snape.

But there were other weighty issues to consider.

Draco was anxious to see Mum and to make sure she was okay. Not that he longed to be back home. With Aunt Bella and the Death Eaters, the Manor was the last place he wanted to be. Which made him fear for his mother even more.

Besides, the holidays were the only time when he could visit Father in Azkaban. Damn. He’d have to ask Snape for a Portkey to meet Mum in a place other than the Manor, and to make the sickening trip to Azkaban. Again, the giant headache of having to deal with too many things at the same time.

“Sprout said she would need some help in the greenhouses during the break.” Hermione looked at Malfoy apprehensively. “I’m going to volunteer.”

“That’s bloody brilliant!” Draco said eagerly. “I’ll talk to Snape – I’m sure he’d let me!“ If everything went well, he could squeeze in more work on The Vanishing Cabinet, which would make a good bargaining chip in his negotiations with Auntie. He’d rather leave the grim task of procuring Muggle kids for Fenrir and his kind, to Katz and others.

“Great. I’ll go to McGonagall then.” Hermione put a smile on her face and stepped outside. The issue of their sex life was resolved, but now she faced a long holiday break in Malfoy’s company in the cold and desolate castle.

The thought of it suddenly made her want to go home and be with her parents instead.

*******
The tall windows were already black, and the candles floating in the air were the only sources of light in the library.

Hermione leaned against the back of her chair. She was done with the bonus text translation for Ancient Runes but nixed the idea of doing the extra Herbology assignment. Instead, she wrote a letter to her parents to tell them that she wouldn’t be coming home and another one to Aunt Perpetua to ask for whatever intelligence she had on the latest happenings in her family. She left writing the reply to Dumbledore for later when everything would be confirmed with McGonagall and Snape.

All this left her very tired, but she didn’t want to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron and Lavender were certain to be there, thrashing like eels on a couch in everyone’s view. Honestly, she couldn’t understand how Lavender would put up with his sloppy manner of kissing. Draco was loads better at it. Oh no, here she was again – longing for the cursed Malfoy.

Hermione wished she could become that little girl again, whose world was so simple – her Mum and Dad, her dolls and books. Was there ever a time when her holidays were all about the Christmas trees, gifts and Santa Claus, and not about her miserable relationships with Death Eaters and her own parents?

Her mind drifted back to Draco. Whatever tasks the Dark Lord had given to him, they apparently were taking a huge toll on him. Hermione mused over what he told her about his parents. He was so perplexed by the fact that his father acted as a gentleman to his mother and married her when others scorned her. What kind of world was Draco living in???

“Hermione?” Parvati’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. “Nott wants to talk to you.”

“Oh. Where is he?” Hermione glanced up at Parvati who was standing in front of her table. “About what?” It better be the real Theo Nott, she thought.

“About the chocolates, apparently. Can you come to the last abandoned classroom in the third floor corridor now?”

“I’m coming on the condition that you come along too.” Hermione gathered her parchments. “I don’t want to be falsely accused of snogging Nott again.”

Parvati shifted on her feet uneasily. “All right.”

As they exited the library, Hermione saw Theo lounging in the corridor outside. Parvati gave him a terse nod, and he quickly walked downstairs, well ahead of the girls. Hermione thought it was so twisted that the Slytherin and Gryffindor students had to sneak around just to talk to each other.

“Are you coming back to Hogwarts after Christmas?” Hermione said, just for the sake of a conversation, as they walked to the staircase in the farther end of the fourth floor corridor.

“If my parents don’t let me, I’m going to run away!” Parvati replied gloomily. “Dad wanted Padma and I to leave for home now, but I dug my heels in. Wish I could stay here for the holidays.”

“Why would you want to be at Hogwarts for Christmas?” Hermione wondered if Zabini was implicated, as well.

“Blaise wants to talk his mother into allowing him to stay here. She’s got a new wizard, and Blaise can’t stand him. Besides, it would be so much harder for us to get together outside the school!”

“I didn’t know things were getting so serious between you both.” Hermione chose not to reveal the fact that she almost walked in on the couple during her night patrol. Their position in that third floor classroom was too compromising – Zabini clearly had his hands under Parvati’s clothes as they snogged senseless.

“Oh, he’s so – so hot!” Parvati blushed profusely. “The thing is my parents wouldn’t hear of my dating him. Don’t tell anyone, ok?”

“Why?”

“Well, my dad said he wasn’t big on someone whose mother’s a serial widow,” sighed Parvati. “Blaise isn’t the same as his Mum!”

Nott was already sitting on a desk in the dusty classroom, his wand aglow, when the girls came in. The red velvet box with the intricate arabesques was next to him.

“Oh, is it about this?” asked Hermione as she neared the Slytherin and had a good look at the box. Apparently, it was still unopened.

“Yes. Thanks, Parvati.” Nott made a gesture for her to leave.

“No, Parvati is staying here. I don’t want Padma to get jealous again,” intervened Hermione.

“Oh, yes. Who owled the chocolates to you?” Nott’s dark eyes drilled into Hermione.

Merlin, gossips were traveling fast in this castle, Hermione groaned inside herself. “My parents.”

Parvati took a chair, her eyes fixed on them both.

“Doubt it’s your parents.” Theo smirked. “Anyway, I’d like you to take the gift back.”

“I don’t want it!” Hermione was getting exasperated. “Just open it and enjoy it!”

“Then tell me who sent it to you.”

“Does it matter, Nott? I gave it as a gift to you because I was really sorry about you and Padma’s trouble.”

“Well, I have some thoughts on the giver of it. If I’m right, I’d rather not trust his presents.”

A chill ran down Hermione’s spine. What if the chocolates were spiked? She was a real fool not to think about such a possibility. She could only hope that Nott suspected someone else and not Malfoy.

“Do you mean there could be a love potion in the chocolates, Nott?” asked Parvati, a little too excitedly.

“It could be anything,” Theo said solemnly. “Was it the same bloke who snogged you under my pretence?”

“I’m not telling anything!” Hermione was on the verge of screaming. The last thing she wanted was to confess her sordid affair with Malfoy in front of Parvati, Lavender’s bosom friend.

“Take it easy, Granger.” Nott levitated the red box with his wand and made it float in circles. “If you aren’t telling, I’m going to return it to the person who gave it to you.”

“How would you know who it is?” Hermione tried to stand her defense. “It could be anyone, after all.”

“Anyone could send you ordinary chocolates, but not Veuve Gauthier. In fact, I know someone, who’s really fond of it, and can afford it, as well. There are also a couple more students who receive this kind of sweets from home. But I doubt a third year girl and fourth year boy fancy you so much.” Theo made the box flow in a circle around Parvati, and she chuckled. “I’m just putting two and two together, you see. I’ll hex that bastard’s arse off for what he’s done to me.”

“So give it to whoever you suspect.” All Hermione could do, was to hope Nott guessed wrong. “My only condition is that the whole matter stays out of the Gryffindor House.”

“You insisted on having a Gryffindor here, didn’t you?”

Hermione looked at Parvati, who was clearly brimming over with curiosity.

“I guess it wasn’t a Gryffindor who snogged you, Hermione?” Parvati said cheekily.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hermione knew she had to take some drastic action. “Actually, I hope you’ll keep it secret unless you’d want me to tell you now what Zabini was doing to you that Saturday night two weeks ago.”

“Well . . .” Parvati fidgeted in her chair under Nott’s amused stare.

“Zabini is no fool, I see.” Theo directed the bonbons back on the desk. “I guess I’ll ask him to share the details tonight.”

“No!” Parvati jumped to her feet, jabbing her wand at Nott’s chest. “Stop that, you wanker!”

“Back off, Parvati.” Hermione pulled her away. “Here’s the pact: you say nothing about me, and I don’t say anything about you either. If Nott spills the beans, I’m reporting to McGonagall about he and Padma’s night patrol adventures. Did you know that McGonagall talked to Wasserstein and Clayton about starting a campaign to curb the love bug at school?”

Parvati fell back in her seat, and Hermione stood in front of her. “If I hear Lavender blabbing about one single thing, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Would you want others to know you’re snogging a Slytherin? Thornton, by the way, fancies Zabini, and she’s a feisty one.”

“Okay, deal,” muttered Parvati. “But I’m not responsible if anyone sees you with your mystery admirer, Hermione!”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t happening.” Hermione bluffed without blinking her eye.

“Well done, Granger.” The whole scene evidently entertained Theo. “You’re a spunky one, I wouldn’t envy the gift-giver!” He nodded to the box next to him. “You promise not to notice certain things at night, don’t you?”

“So far as it’s you and Padma only.”

“Of course, and I’d ask for Zabini and Parvati too. Don’t worry, no one would get hurt or anything.”

“Agreed.” Hermione looked at Parvati, who let out a big sigh of relief. “Hope your parents won’t pull you and Padma out of Hogwarts, after all.”

“If they do, Blaise and I will kidnap them,” Theo grinned. “We’re counting on your silence, Granger.”

************************************************************************************

Author’s Note:

JKR noted Lavender Brown as a Pureblood in her notes on the Hogwarts students (http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/brown.html). Although it was not confirmed in the canon, I took advantage of the fact.

Louis XIV of France, the Sun King – more information could be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_XIV_of_France