Trials Undercover

Trials Undercover

By Cakeisnice

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I also do not wish I had an invisibility cloak, so that I can sneak into the boys locker-room and watch them undress. Of course not.

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It was late in the afternoon when they were finally back in the mansion, and Hermione could hear her stomach roaring. Oh, the hunger. She glanced over at Malfoy.

“You have to feed me, you know.”

He scowled at her, annoyed, “I’m sure Alfred has cooked up something. We eat in the dining room.” And with that, he walked off.

Alfred? Who in the world of wizarding was that? Then it hit her; the butler of course. The one person aside from the two of them who was living in that insanely humongous mansion. She hoped they were having something tasty, she thought as she brought her merchandise up to her room. She hung her new dresses in the nearly empty dresser and placed the make-up on the table below the mirror. She couldn’t help but admit she was looking forward to dressing as part of the 'elite wizarding' social set. But she would willingly eat twenty of Hagrid's rock cakes before admitting that to anyone other than herself.

She left her bedroom and entered the hallway, slowly descending the stairs. Now, where was this bloody `dining room`? She chose the hallway to her left, and opened the first door. She assumed it was an office, because of the desk and the filing cabinets. She retracted her head and continued to the next door. But when she entered this room, she froze, gaping in awe. It was an enormous library, with shelves stuffed with books almost reaching the roof. There must have been thousands of books in there, some she was sure that were first editions or books the Ministry had outlawed years before. She walked further in, admiring the glorious sight.

I have died and gone to heaven. And it is beautiful.

“Lost, are we?”

She spun around, discovering the slytherin prince himself standing in the doorway. She blushed faintly.

“Well, how am I supposed to know where the sodding dining room is? You haven’t exactly given me the grand tour, have you?” she said grumpily.

He smirked, “Oh, I think you loved the opportunity to snoop around, Granger. The dining room is by the kitchen, on the other side of the house. And no more snooping.” He turned and walked out. Hermione shot a final longing look at the books before she sighed and followed him. Maybe this mansion isn’t so horrible after all, she thought to herself.

The dining room proved to be a big room with dull green wallpaper and flowery curtains hanging aside big windows. In the centre stood a long table in dark wood decorated with two large silver candelabras. On the wall to the left was a second door, which Hermione assumed probably led to the kitchens. Malfoy had seated himself at the far end of the table, and her place setting was at the end nearest to her. She seated herself, noticing the three feet or more separating them. He completely ignored her, reading what seemed to be the evening prophet.

Hermione quietly tried to start an intellectual train of thought in her head, but all it seemed capable of doing was chanting “food, food, food.” She gave up. Where was the bloody food? Were they planning to starve her out?

She started to tap her fingers on the table, busying herself. At this point, those candles in the candelabras were starting to look awfully good...

“Stop that.” He didn’t even look up from the paper.

She gave him a menacing look, which he didn’t seem to notice. As she opened her mouth to get his attention, all words disappeared when she saw the kitchen door move. It all went in painful slow motion; the door slowly swung open and a man carrying two plates of food entered the room. Peering closely at the obviously aging Alfred, Hermione thought; Do I see a halo?

Alfred served Malfoy first of course. And it seemed he dragged his feet walking over to her. Then he put the plate in front of her, nodding reluctantly. She just ignored him, her brain in neanderthal mode. Not important, food present. She looked down on her plate, full of anticipation. Then the world crashed and burned.

Liver?! And peas?! Disgusting, revolting, should-be-banned-from-the-world peas?! She shot a nasty look at Alfred’s back. He had so done this on purpose. Somehow he had learned what she loathed, and cooked it, probably while rubbing his hands together and laughing maniacally like a villain.

Malfoy was eating calmly, as if he wasn’t aware of this gruesome conspiracy. Brooding, Hermione reluctantly started eating her potatoes. It wasn’t very tasty, but she had to eat to satisfy the chanting in her brain.

She was finished quickly and looked over at Malfoy. He was eating slowly, shooting glances at the paper. His features were slightly distorted in the flickering light from the candles. The room was dead quiet. Then:

“Stop staring at me like you want to shag me, Granger,“ Malfoy said suddenly, looking up with a mock frown.

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. The nerve! Then she blushed; she had been staring. She straightened her back stubbornly.

“Shut up, you pervert, I wouldn’t want your diseases. I just can’t stand awkward silences.”

“Oh, was it awkward? Too bad, I was quite enjoying myself, not hearing your annoying voice.” He smirked, “but since we’re speaking, I do have to go over the rules with you.”

“Rules? What rules?” Hermione was confused.

“The rules of this house. And while you are living here, you have to abide by them.”

“Oh, is that so?” Her eyes narrowed, “and what do these socalled rules say?”

“Well, the first rule is that you are not to use magic in here, or brew potions. At least not without consulting me first.” Hermione made an angry noise, that he just ignored and kept on going, "You are not to steal anything from the house or the property, nor destroy anything. You are not allowed to have any friends over, and you shall obey everything I tell you. If I think of any more rules, I will add them later. Is that understood, or will I have to write them down and put them in your bedroom?” his smirk broadened, and he looked very satisfied with himself.

“Oh, I can tell you where you can put those bloody rules, you smug son of a bitch!” Hermione had stood up and was almost shaking with fury, her hazel eyes shooting sparks. How dared he?!

“Language, Granger,” he responded lazily, “I will not have profanity from you in this house. You know what? Add that to the rules. And as long as you live under my roof, you will follow the rules or the mission is off. And Scarface really got his panties wet for it, you know. So you just have to swallow it and abide. You wouldn’t want to upset `The-Boy-Who-Lived-Just-To-Annoy` now, would you?”

Could someone reek of smugness? Hermione would almost swear she could actually smell his self satisfaction.

Hermione pressed her lips together, turned and marched out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She would NOT agree to follow those rules. She stamped her way up to her bedroom, where she paced back and forth in anger. This was a nightmare! She could feel the headache coming on. Stupid poof. She would straighten it out tomorrow, she decided before getting into bed. She didn’t want to face him again tonight.


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The next morning, a beautiful and sunny Saturday morning, was June first. Hermione dressed and went down to breakfast. The entire meal went by in silence; Hermione refused to speak because she was still pissed, and Malfoy just ignored her as usual. Luckily he didn’t bring up the house rules again. He probably thought of her departure as an agreement. She was a little pleased with that. She didn’t want to refuse the rules and mess up the assignment, but she hadn’t agreed to them either. Like she ever would. But if he didn’t press the matter, she certainly wouldn’t. He could just live in his little fantasy world where everyone worshipped and obeyed him. Tosser.

As she followed him after breakfast out into the entrance hall, she noticed that he put on his cloak and approached the fireplace.

Hermione stopped abruptly.

“Where are you going?” She asked him.

He turned and looked at her with a blank expression, his steel-grey eyes cold, “I have a meeting with some of my new… ah… friends. The so-called mission, remember? I actually take it seriously and am acting on it.”

“You're meeting with Death eaters?” Hermione looked taken aback, “Already? And why have you not informed me of this? We are in this together, remember?”

“I have not informed you because you do not need to know. I will, of course, notify you when you are needed.” He turned to leave.

“Well I’m coming with you! Just wait a minute and I’ll go put the stuff on.” Hermione turned hastily to the stairs.

“Stop!” She came to a halt at the foot of the stairs and looked back at him. He looked annoyed.

“You are not coming with me, Granger. What do you think this is, a tea party? I cannot just show up with you and say `my girlfriend was bored and I decided to bring her along`. You don’t know the type of people we are dealing with here. I have to go alone, and you are staying here. That’s an order!” and then he turned and disappeared into the flames.

Hermione just stood there, frozen. What in the bloody hell was that? What was she here for, decoration? She frowned angrily. This was so unfair! She wanted to DO something, not just sit around, waiting for orders! She had been doing that for ages! She marched over to the fireplace and threw in some floo powder.

“Number twelve, Grimmauld place!”


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I know this is going kind of slow, but don’t worry! There will be smut, and there will be
action, you just have to be patient with me..:) I feel I can’t just put them in the same house together and expect them to throw themselves at each other. It has to evolve naturally…

Anyway, huge thanks to my BETA, Brandy (Anathema), the sweetheart who bothers to correct my ramblings, she is great! :)

And please, please, do review. It is all I look forward to these days, with all my exams coming up and all…

Thanks for the time, I’ll try to update soon..:)