Carnival

Draco sprinted across the canal bridge; his insides tumbling over and over, making him queasy. Who within CMOA would pit him against Granger? It made no sense. Someone was playing them. And if Draco hated anything, he hated being left in the dark and made a fool of. The only thing which made sense in this whole fiasco; was Jonathan having a partner. But, who was mad enough to team up with him? And more importantly, what was Jonathan’s plan now? Well, apart from completely ruining his seduction of Granger? Who in herself was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

Draco had been with CMOA for years, having no inkling she was a part of it. Sure, he had heard the codename Rouge Cub around the place. But the person behind the identity was a secret they’d kept well. And for good reason too. Granger, the war hero, was not who you’d expect to become a black op’s operative. Which; inadvertently made her perfect for the job. Draco longed to see Granger in action, stealthily hunting down a target. It gave him wicked imagery of her clad in tight black leather. This led him to thoughts about the position he’d had her in earlier.

Draco grinned; he’d caught her completely unawares. Her unconscious trembling and heady moans pained him, but only because he had never been so hard in his life. Touching himself would have been cheating; it was all about giving Granger an orgasm which would guarantee her compliance. His goal; an entire night naked and sweaty with the golden girl. Yet, if he kept his train of thought in its current state, he would never save her. He’d end up sitting down an alley beating off frantically.

Draco loathed leaving Granger with the enemy. Not that he had much choice in the matter. She was at Jonathan’s mercy, and it made Draco want to bellow in frustration. He should have stopped her walking away, done something other than watch her whilst blathering like an idiot. Hindsight was truly not serving any purpose now, except to piss him off. He had never faulted in decision making, and it galled him that he’d fluffed it up when it really mattered. How in hell did Jonathan find them in the first place anyway? It was just another unanswered question - one of many.

Draco looked down at his hand, which was full of blood from holding his side. The three guards had doubled back before he could jump onto the boat, and one had gotten a shot off as he escaped to the nearest roof. A damn Muggle gun. How he hated the blasted things, it was bloody unsporting to use them. He was caught by surprise, and he knew he shouldn’t have. He was trained for situations just like this. Though, the other missions never involved distractions like Granger. It seemed like his own Achilles heel had been uncovered. And it had wild curls and chocolate brown eyes. His side stung where the bullet grazed him; another reminder he was way too preoccupied. He needed a plan; he needed an objective to keep him in check. And the only one he could commit to; was saving Granger. He wasn’t sure what to do about Jonathan yet; did he kill him like the original objective? Though he reasoned it was probably best to play it by ear until he figured out who was playing who. He had to get back to his workroom immediately.

Draco was confident no-one knew of his second residence in Venice. It was a small workroom situated under a Muggle souvenir shop. The last place a wizard of any worth would be seen; it was perfect for Draco’s comings and goings. So it came as a complete surprise to find an envelope shoved under the door. Carefully probing it for magic and finding none, he picked it up.

Black Knight,
We have been compromised. The target has gone to ground. Meet me ASAP for a briefing of the upmost importance. You know where.
V.

He screwed up the note, flinging it into the corner. Ignoring a summons from his superior was not going to be the worst thing he did that night. He would be severely reprimanded, but it was of no consequence. He knew where Jonathan’s safe house was. And he wanted revenge. He’d deal with Violets anger later. Much later, if he could work it.

Draco changed his pirate boots for more appropriate footwear. The ninja tabi boots were perfect for climbing and gave him more flexibility and grip. Plus, he thought they made him look the part of an assassin. Okay, he mainly liked how he felt like Naruto in them; a Muggle anime he’d stumbled upon and become instantly addicted to. The Pirates versus Ninja debate was defunct in his eyes, he was both. Every woman’s fantasy - come to life.

Pulling a snug black spandex shirt over his torso, he winced, and yanked it straight back up. Hell, he grabbed a bottle of Fire Whiskey and doused his wounds. He hissed as the alcohol stung the cuts. The bullet graze hurt the most, as it wasn’t covered, but at least it had stopped bleeding. It was the best he could do.

He pulled the top back over his chest, then drew down a full black mask with night vision. His nose crinkled, he smelt like a Diagon Alley drunk. Great, they would smell him from metres away. Well, he‘d have to be extra sneaky. It was a good thing people underestimated his sneakiness. Draco grabbed a small pouch from his worktable, and headed back out to the streets. He just hoped he could find Granger in time. Fuck it, he would find her, no questions. He was after all, one of CMOA best operatives.

He pulled himself up the side of a building, silent and unnoticed. There weren’t any people on the rooftops to hamper his speed; he’d be there in no time. A Nimbus would have been ideal, but he’d crashed it in his last Quidditch match. Draco would have to have it repaired, he really needed it back.

Draco took off sprinting, and soared across alleys whilst dodging obstacles. Glancing down he occasionally saw drunken Muggles snogging in quiet corners. He wondered how he would like his life, if it were so simple. Would he be happy with the mundane? Probably not.

Draco stopped short about three rooftops over from Jonathans; perusing for guards. He only saw two. This would be a cinch. He jumped closer and hid behind a chimney. He could smell cigarette smoke; at least one guard would be distracted. He could use this to his advantage.

Draco climbed partway down the side of the building and using his legs for power; pushed off. He landed on the window sill of the opposite building, directly under the smoking guard. Reaching up slowly, he grasped the lip of the roof. Before anyone could blink, he pulled himself up into a handstand wrapping his feet around the guard’s neck. He squeezed tightly so no noise issued from the man’s throat. The cigarette dropped past Draco’s face. If he wasn’t trying to be quiet, he would have pulled out a pithy line like ‘smoking will make your health nosedive.’ Instead, he twisted his ankles flinging the guard off the building. The guard landed in a flowerbed off a lower windowsill - headfirst.

Draco raised his head over the roof and watched for the second lookout. He was on the opposite side, and didn’t notice his comrade’s departure. Hired goons, they were always clueless. Jumping up, Draco grabbed a cloth from his pouch. It was soaked in chloroform. He thought it poetic, that he took out Jonathan’s guard in the same manner as Jonathan took Granger from him. The guard was caught completely by surprise. After a few spasms he was out like a light. Draco leant down checking for a pulse. When he was satisfied the man would be fine, he looked for a way into the building. Jonathan was a complete jackass; two guards were never going to be enough to keep a Malfoy out.

Three meters below, he saw a bathroom window ajar. He ignored the voice which told him it was likely to be a trap, and proceeded to climb down the wall. No one was inside, so he slipped through and took off his mask. He saw his reflection in the mirror and halted. He looked - troubled, for the lack of a better word. He sneered instead, and was much happier with that look. It was a controlled look, it was his controlled look. Suddenly he heard a shriek. He jumped into action, it was Hermione. If they had hurt her, damn it, he would not hesitate to inflict pain, a hell of a lot of pain.

He barrelled through the bathroom door and headed for the staircase; skipping four steps at a time in his haste to get downstairs. Draco ground to a halt at what greeted his eyes. Herbert had his hand snarled in Hermione’s curls and held her head underwater, through a trapdoor in the floor. She no longer wore the hooped frock, just a thin cotton shift dress. She looked freezing. An unearthly male protective growl ripped from his throat. He strode forward, and was tripped right away. He looked up into the grinning face of Jonathan Rothman. He held a shotgun cocked, pointed at his head. Draco’s hands curled into fists and spots blurred his vision; he was livid.

A gasp tore from Hermione as her head was freed from the water. Draco smirked when he heard the litter of profanities emitting from her. Granger was scared, but still fighting, and that was good. Now his main concern was Jonathan, and what scheme he had brewing in his mind. The shotgun did not inspire hope he was planning to join the peace corp.

“Herbert you motherless, spineless toad, how dare you.” Hermione was cut off short when her head was thrust back under the water. Draco winced, and moved a little towards her. The gun wavered in his face and he stopped. Shit, this was fucking bollocks; he was helpless for the moment.

“Stop it, Herbert. Let the little spy breathe for a moment. I want her to know what her treachery will cause the wizarding world.” Jonathan sneered; Draco thought it looked stupid on him. It took a certain charisma to pull off a sneer properly, something Jonathan lacked in spades.

Herbert pulled Granger back up, sitting her on the floor. Draco noted her hands were tied together, and her legs were bound as well. When she looked up and glared at Jonathan, he saw she was not as panicked as he thought she would be. Granger was a CMOA operative first, and she knew all was not lost. He also knew she wouldn’t let what had happened between them interfere with taking Jonathan down. He felt a pang of pride for the small witch who sat there looking like she would break, but would never give up.

Their eyes locked and he saw the wariness within them. He knew his expression mirrored hers. Do they trust each other and unite in the fight against Jonathan? Or do they fight against each other for their own means? Draco knew he’d already chosen; he wouldn’t have blasted in here to save Granger otherwise. He just hoped she was big enough to see that trying to take Jonathan down alone would be near on impossible at the moment. She gave him a small tired half smile, and he exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware of holding. She was with him. The pride he felt for her grew into something uncomfortable. Ignoring the unfamiliar feeling he gazed around the room instead.

What he saw didn’t inspire much hope. The doors were barred, and the windows bordered up. If he had his wand, it wouldn’t be a problem. So instead, he would have to draw on his Muggle expertise. He smiled as a thought occurred.

“Jonathan, where is your wand? Surely it would do more damage than a Muggle gun.”

Jonathan’s lip curled in anger. Draco had the beginnings of a plan, and needed Jonathan to get irritated enough to become sloppy. He just hoped like hell Jonathan didn’t have a wand up his sleeve. It would put a crimp in his bad plan.

“My Mistress tells me I am not to have it back - until I dispose of you both.”

Draco sat back heavily - well he didn’t expect that. Jonathan’s mistress had to be the hooded woman he saw on the boat. Who the hell was she? One with great power over Jonathan it seemed. It was obvious Herbert was only a hired goon. Draco didn’t believe he was capable of being the mole at CMOA; he didn’t seem bright enough. So Draco had to work on Jonathan, rile him up. He had a degree in pushing buttons, it would be easy.

“Oh, so you’re taking orders from a woman. How disgraceful, Jonathan, especially for a wizard of your supposed stature.” Draco drawled, injecting just enough scorn to be insulting.

Suddenly Draco’s head snapped back as Jonathan slammed the gun butt into his temple. Pain exploded behind his eyes, but he held onto consciousness. Way to go Malfoy, you need an escape, not a brain haemorrhage. He heard Hermione cry out, and focused on her; their eyes met. A bruise was forming around her left eye, and he felt anger raging inside. They would pay, by god they would pay. He hated men who hit women, and it being Granger only made it worse somehow. He was definitely going soft.

Herbert left Hermione on the ground, obviously thinking she couldn’t go too far. He was trying to calm Jonathan down; who was currently pacing the room, muttering under his breath. Okay, so maybe it was a bone of contention for Jonathan; working for a powerful woman. Draco grinned, at least his plan worked, sort of, Jonathan was mad, though mad as a hatter it seemed.

Draco waited till both men had turned away, then he mouthed ‘trust me’ to Hermione. Her eyes widened momentarily, and he knew it was a huge thing to ask of her. Since only a few hours before it was those words which caused this whole situation. She searched his face for the longest moment, then closed her eyes and nodded indiscriminately. Jonathan spun around, stroking the barrel of the gun menacingly. Channelling pure arrogance, Draco looked Jonathan in the eyes, daring him to speak. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I have a truly ingenious plan to take care of you both. I’m going to kill the Minister of Magic, and blame you.” Jonathan’s self satisfied voice rung out.

Draco straightened as much as he could, while Hermione audibly choked on her words.

“You can’t do that. We would tell the world the truth - accusing you straight away. Its madness to think you can get away with it…” She trailed off as she realised the implications.

Jonathan chuckled, making Draco’s spine prickle. “My dear Hermione, you’ll be dead of course. Then whilst the wizarding world strings up your friends and relatives for being part of the conspiracy against him, I’ll become the temporary Minister.”

Draco looked at Hermione frowning. It made no sense. Jonathan could have easily been elected when the current Minister retired. The wizarding world seemed to like the slimy git for some reason. Once again Draco was utterly disgusted in the public opinion.

“As with all new Ministers, even temporary ones, I will have full access to the Muggle Prime Ministers private quarters to alert him of the change in power. And that’s when I will set the second bomb, killing everyone in Downing Street. It will send the Muggle world into complete panic.” Jonathan’s voice was deep and chilling.

“Second bomb?” Hermione whispered quietly. Draco knew what Jonathans next words were going to be. And his chest constricted in fury. Fury, that this meaningless son of a whore was going to bring the wizarding world to its knees.

“Oh, did I not mention the first one will be set off in the Ministry itself. It should cull at least sixty to seventy percent of all employees. Imagine all that death and destruction.” He giggled in glee. Any attempt for Jonathan to look sane flew out the window in that moment.

Draco knew his eyes were full of hatred. He blatantly wanted to destroy this man where he stood. Jonathan was aiming to be a psychopathic murderer; no one would begrudge Draco the pleasure of the kill - surely. It was his original plan anyway, but things were out of hand and he didn’t know who or what to trust. Way too many from the wizarding world would be killed in one foul blow if Jonathan got his way. It would be catastrophic.

Draco needed to keep Jonathan distracted and rambling. He had another plan. It wasn’t a great one, or even well thought out, but it was a plan nonetheless. He’d been stealthily sliding towards Hermione while Jonathan carried on, and was only a metre or so away. Herbert was distracted and too busy nodding his head in agreement with his mad boss. His eyes were glazed over showing absolute adoration; Draco couldn’t help but wonder if a compulsion spell was involved. It would certainly explain how dense Herbert was. It would have been obvious to anyone watching that Draco was moving across the floor, even though it was at a snails pace.

“Okay, it’s a solid plan, I guess; although absolutely mental. But how does this help you become a world leader?” Draco asked.

“It doesn’t. Oh, Mr Malfoy, I may have insane notions of grandeur, but I’m not blind. I can see you moving across the floor.”

Jonathan had regained his sensibilities, now training the shotgun at Draco once more. Shit, he kept underestimating the crazy man, it was easy to do. Hermione’s unintelligible ‘oh’ was lost as Jonathan kept speaking.

“I don’t want to lead the wizarding world. Far from it. I want chaos and murder, it makes me smile. My Mistress will be the one to rule us into a new golden age.” Jonathan polished the barrel of the gun against his shirt sleeve as he spoke.

Draco’s body snapped to attention at Jonathans words. Whoa, this was getting complicated. He needed to find the woman from the boat, the ringleader of this entire disaster. But first he had to escape with Granger. Jonathan was still rambling, and started to swing the shotgun around again like a conductor’s baton. It glinted menacingly.

“It’s such a pity you both won’t be around to enjoy the fruits of my labour. I’m going to have to shoot you. But, just to be sporting, I’ll give you a three second head start.” Jonathan laughed; there was nowhere for them to go, especially with Granger tied up as she was. Draco’s head spun in panic, if only he had - hang on. His pouch. Suddenly he had a glorious opening in front of him.

Draco smirked as Jonathan lined them up. What a clueless dick, he’d left a way out. With a jump, Draco threw himself forward; landing on Granger with a grunt. His momentum pushed them both sideways. As Jonathan screamed and shot at them, they disappeared into the freezing waters of Venice, via the trapdoor.

*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*

Hermione’s lungs filled with icy water and shock made her stiffen. Panicking she tried kicking her legs; they were still bound, as was her hands. She stopped thrashing and floated downwards, serenely. It seemed strange, after everything; she would drown under a house in Venice. It would be the first time she hadn’t completed a mission. She hated unfinished business.

Suddenly she felt a tug and her arms slipped over a head; a white blonde head. Draco held her tight as he slipped under her bound arms. She felt relief, but also knew her air had gone. It was too late. Then he shoved something in her mouth. Gagging and coughing, her chest tightened so much she knew her ribs would burst through. Then unexpectedly, she could breathe. Draco’s smirk became broader, as his cocky nature came through. Their faces were only an inch apart, and he leant in placing pressure on her cheek. Then he mouthed something ‘Gillyweed’.

She returned the smile, the sneaky Slytherin. He had an out the whole time. If she could, she would have yelled at him. But relief, sweet and strong filled her instead.

Draco kicked them along under pylons and seaweed entwined wooden posts. It was disgustingly slimy. Yet, it was a small price to pay for being alive. Hermione honestly thought she was going to die in Jonathan’s lair. She had awoken to see Herbert looking down at her, an uncharacteristically cold look on his face. She was so relieved to see him; naively she thought he was there to save her. A moment later she knew he was not. Betrayal hit her again for the second time that evening. Though she was more upset at Draco than Herbert, which was ludicrous. Herbert was a traitor to the country, trying to kill millions of people. Draco just lied about his job.

Weighing it up, it was silly to feel more anger towards Malfoy. For Pete’s sake, they worked for the same secret service. But, Hermione was finding the hardest part to swallow, was her own reaction. It meant she really did like Malfoy. It wasn’t all sexual attraction. Merlin, it was pathetic. How did it happen? When did it happen? He was a lying prat for god’s sake. Though she really couldn’t talk, she was doing her fair share of deception too. But it was different when she did it, wasn’t it?

They finally began to float upwards. Hermione felt useless, tied up as she was. Yet, Malfoy was strong, and she could tell it wasn’t hard work for him. When they broke surface, she gasped in sweet fresh air. Gillyweed was fine in a pinch, but the air was stale.

“Christ, Hermione, are you alright?”

Draco cupped her face in both hands, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks. She felt tingles race throughout her. Damn it, she was pissed at him, but couldn’t deny the attraction she felt. His blonde hair was plastered over his forehead, making him appear in his late teens, not the man he had grown into. Draco’s grey eyes searched her face for signs of damage, when they reached hers she inhaled sharply. He was worried; Draco Malfoy was worried - about her. It was an uncomfortable revelation, because she realised she liked his concern for her.

Hermione ignored the small tug she felt in her chest as his thumbs traced over her cheeks once more. Pushing her hair behind her ears, his eyes became intense and his brow furrowed. It was almost as if he was just as confused as her. Then his mouth came crashing down on hers, hot and needy. Her hands were still bound behind his head, but she managed to bring him closer, melting into his caress. Draco held her head steady, assaulting her time and time again, as she gasped and moaned into his mouth. It was a kiss of passion, of anxiety, of forgiveness. And damned if she did forgive him; she was a lost cause.

“Hermione?” He pulled away, breathless. “Why didn’t you tell me you were The Rogue Cub?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your involvement?” She countered.

He smirked and her heart sped up, crap, crap, crap.

“Well I would be a pretty piss-poor operative if I told my secret to every alluring woman I come across, wouldn’t I?”

Hermione looked up at him from beneath her lashes, she couldn’t exactly be too angry with him. She was still holding a very large secret from him. One she had to keep close to her chest.

“I had no idea who you were, when I guessed your name in the plaza. Ironic really, I just always liked the codename. So much more menacing than being named from a lions offspring.” She smiled, thinking how bizarre this whole situation was. She should be livid; instead she was relieved Draco was fighting on her side. A few hot kisses and Hermione was anyone’s, she was such an easy witch.

“I admit; you threw me for six with that. Good guess, maybe you really are smart, Granger. Though, I won’t commit to that until we figure out a way to capture Jonathan. Before, he can kill anyone. Why the hell would CMOA tell me to assassinate Jonathan, when they told you to arrest him and keep him alive? It makes no bloody sense.”

“Who knows what happens at the hierarchy meetings. Maybe it was a test for us, or maybe it was a clerical error?”

Draco snorted. “Right, a secretary made a typo, which inadvertently led us to be in Venice on the same mission, yet with different outcomes. I take back my assessment of you being smart. Come on, we have to get going.”

Hermione nodded, she wanted nothing more than to melt into Draco, but she knew the job had to come first. He slipped her hands over his head, and she shivered from the loss of warmth he radiated. He undid her ties slowly, so as not to chafe her skin. A wicked gleam formed in his eyes.

“You know, Granger, I think we should keep these ropes for later.” He pulled her in again so his lips were an inch away from hers. Her heart accelerated in lust. “I’m going to tie you to my bed and have my way with you until you scream.”

“Oh Merlin, you’re just too much.” Hermione managed to grind out before attacking his lips. She abruptly ended the heated kiss, when she remembered something vitally important. Draco looked at her quizzically. “I think I have something that will bring Jonathan down to his knees. And it’s in my bra.”

Draco’s face darkened and Hermione felt a smile spread at his unconscious jealousy.

“No, Granger. No matter how impressive your…assets are, I’m not letting you seduce that smarmy wanker. Not when I haven’t even managed to cop a proper feel yet.”

“Merlin, you have it completely wrong. Yuck. Let’s get out of the water, and I’ll explain. Plus, you managed more than just a feel earlier.”

Smirking the whole time, Malfoy found a small ladder and climbed out. Then he leant back down, pulling her up like she weighed nothing. Once she was settled, she undid the binding on her ankles. Merlin, she forgot how good free movement was. Draco’s eyes suddenly turned gunmetal grey. Hermione looked down and saw the shift dress clinging to her like a second skin. She went to pull it off her body to regain some modesty, when Draco’s strangled ‘don’t’ stopped her. His eyes were dark like thunderclouds and her breath hitched. They were never going to get out of here if he continued to look at her like that. She would be a pool of complete wanton lust at his feet.

“Malfoy, we can’t….not now…”

He shook his head vehemently. “I know, just give me a moment.”

She watched as he shut his eyes and inhaled slowly. When he opened them she saw they were still dark, but no where near as cloudy. He went to great pains just to look her in the eyes, and nowhere else. It made her want to tease him a little. She decided she loved seeing him uncomfortable. It almost made up for all the teasing he bestowed on her at Hogwarts. Except now, the games could turn dangerously naughty. Hermione stood up slowly and stretched, arching her back so the dress clung even more provocatively. She heard Malfoy groan and a stream of swear words followed soon after.

“Granger, I’m warning you - don’t test me now.” Draco’s strangled voice made her smile. Score one for her.

“Do you have an owl here in Venice, Malfoy? One you trust?” She questioned.

He looked up, a slight frown marring his perfect features. Her quick shift in topic caught him off guard. “Yes, of course, why do you want my owl?”

“I have something for the Auror department. Something I hope can help bring Jonathan down.”

Draco looked expectantly at her, waiting for an explanation. Instead she just held out her hand, knowing it would annoy him. He begrudgingly took it as she pulled him up.

“Well come on, Granger. I’ll take you back to the bat-cave, and you can tell me all about your grand plan.”

By the time they made it back to Malfoys workroom, they were almost dry. It was nearing four in the morning. But this meant nothing to the party goers; carnival was still in full swing.

Hermione looked around the small and modest room, thinking how unlike Malfoy it appeared. There was nothing flashy about it. Everything was old, but in excellent repair. He looked after his tools impeccably. It told her one more thing about the man standing in front of her. Draco the adult was definitely a puzzle; and it impressed Hermione, maybe a little too much.

“Okay, spill it, Granger. What’s your, oh, so amazing plan?” Draco’s eyebrow was cocked; he didn’t believe she had anything worthy to pin Jonathan down with. She’d show him.

Smiling, Hermione slid a hand over her breast. With satisfaction she saw him take a shallow breath as his eyes narrowed. Merlin, he was easy to get on edge. She reached into her bra pulling out a small device no bigger than an earpiece for a MP3 player. Holding it out to Malfoy, she dropped it into his outstretched hand.

He coughed lightly, betraying the lust in it. “You need a hard lesson in subtlety. What is this?”

Ignoring his dig at her wiles, Hermione pushed a miniscule button on the side of it. Jonathan’s voice rang out clear, and loud. His whole plan recorded. Hermione was thankful the water had not damaged it. Muggle technology had its place in a magical world. It couldn’t be traced by magical means. Malfoy’s eyes widened as Jonathan’s voice continued to ring out, damning himself with every word he uttered.

“Sly, Sly, minx. You had this the whole time? What else did you record?” Malfoy’s eyes lit up, and he raised both eyebrows. She felt herself flush crimson.

“Definitely, not that. I only managed to turn it on before Herbert tied me up in the house. I think there is sufficient evidence on there to get him locked away.”

Malfoy wrote something quickly on a piece of parchment, and attached it to the leg of a small russet owl which was patiently waiting on a perch. He offered it a treat, and it jumped onto his forearm swallowing it down in one gulp. Then it was off through a small gap in the roof.

“Pecan will take it straight to the Auror's department; they should pick him up soon after. Granger, did Herbert or Jonathan ever mention a woman? I mean one who seemed important to them? One who may have visited often?”

Hermione swallowed, wondering what she could say, she decided to try and stick as close to the truth as possible. More lies, even necessary ones had to be kept small and manageable.

“Honestly, Jonathan had a long line of waiting and willing female companions. Though I found him to be smarmy and a pompous git, many women wanted the glamorous life of being on the arm of the Ministers first aide. I never understood the whole sleeping with someone to better your social standings.”

Grinning, Draco looked down at Hermione. “So, I guess sleeping with me, purely to be a notch on the illustrious Malfoy bed-head is not an ambition of yours?”

Hermione hit him on the arm in mock outrage. His teasing voice made her melt a little on the inside. It was nice to hear him sound, so human. Without the sneer he was almost charming, though his arrogance was still a major turn-on. Hell, she would sleep with him, purely because he got her knickers wet with one small lift of his eyebrow. She decided no answer was necessary. He chuckled at her, and asked a question instead.

“So this Mistress Jonathan spoke about, do you think she’s the mole from CMOA? It would have to be someone high up, someone who knows both of us and our codenames. Shit, with all the covert information running around in that place, we could have a bigger disaster than we could imagine.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” A deep voice came from behind her.

Hermione spun as Jonathan barged through the door. She spared a glance at Malfoy, and saw his mouth agape in surprise. He’d told her no-one knew of this place, and obviously Jonathan finding them was a complete shock.

“How…where…find us…” Draco trailed off, his sentence not making any sense, but Hermione knew what he was trying to say.

“Come now, I have some of the brightest witches and wizards in my employ, Mr Malfoy. I know where all my staff is; at all times. It’s called tracking, a neat magical technique I picked up on my travels.” Jonathan leered at Hermione.

Gods, Jonathan had her magically tagged like a pet with a computer chip. How did she not notice it? Then it dawned on her; turning red with mortification she hoped he didn’t see their interlude earlier that evening. But they had more than just this maniac’s voyeuristic tendencies to worry about. Because now things were stacked in Jonathans favour; in his hand he held a wand. Oh crap. He flicked his wrist at Draco, and a bolt of blue light flew straight across the room. It knocked Malfoy back against the far wall. Plaster puffed out from the impact, and he slid groggily to the floor. Hermione stood her ground, watching for Jonathan’s next move. But of course Draco had to get in one more jibe. It was like teasing a viper with a stick.

“Let it go, Jonathan. It’s useless. You’ll never take out both ministries, and the whore you’re so intent on protecting, will never rule anywhere.”

Jonathan's face blazed in anger as he spluttered at Malfoys words. Instead of a reply he flicked his wrist again. Hermione was relieved it was only a bolt of blue light, not the green of a killing curse. Her relief was short lived as it slammed into Draco hard. He flew sideways into the table and chairs, which buckled from the impact. Merlin, if he didn’t have a broken bone by now, it would be a miracle. She had to do something. But what? She had no weapons, no bargaining power, only herself. Jonathan flicked his wrist again, and she heard a pained groan from Malfoy. Act now. Don’t wait.

“Oh, Jonathan.” Hermione tried to sound as coy as possible. She had slipped the shoulder strap of her shift down into a more provocative pose. She saw Jonathan’s attention waning from Malfoy. She just hoped he would keep it on her. “I had no idea you were so clever…taking over not one, but two Ministries…I may have misjudged you. I mean a girl’s got to look out for her future, right?”

Hermione tried not to wince as a lecherous leer overtook Jonathan's face. She was playing with fire, and hoped like hell her ludicrous plan worked. She didn’t dare look over at Draco, he would have to make do for the moment and let her take the lead. She could hear his ragged breathing, and took comfort in the fact he was alive.

Jonathan watched her closely. “Well, well a change of heart. All women are the same in the end. Are you listening, Mr Malfoy, take note that it’s the ruthless powerful wizards which always get the witch. I knew my charms would eventually work.”

Hermione slowly walked over to him, swaying her hips as she got closer. Thank god he was mentally unbalanced; else he would never have fallen for her fake seduction. Even by her standards it was a pretty poor effort. But Jonathan seemed not to notice, he had lowered his wand while he watched her. She almost gagged when he licked his lips, but at least he wasn’t hurting Draco.

When she got close enough, she stood on her tip toes placing a small chaste kiss to the pulse point on his neck. And that’s all it took to take Jonathan down. So distracted at having Hermione’s attention, he didn’t give his wand a second thought. She slid a hand down his back while the other expertly disarmed him. He was an honest to god loser she thought; like a big dumb bear.

As Jonathan came in for a kiss, Hermione leaned back. The look on his face was priceless as he felt the sharp dig of his wand on his jugular. Shock was soon replaced with anger, but he couldn’t move. He was at Hermione’s mercy. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but it was only Malfoy, who’d managed to shuffle to his feet. Relief flooded her. He was going to be fine.

“You absolute, cock. As if Granger would ever want you.”

And with that, Draco used the last of his strength to give Jonathan a taste of the Malfoy uppercut. Jonathan was laid out flat, not moving a muscle. Hermione turned, just as Draco fell to the floor. She managed to half catch him, ending up with him lying across her lap. She stroked his fringe away from his face. His eyes flicked open, and with a half smile he caught her gaze.

“Granger, did anyone tell you, you are a complete and utter cock tease.” Then he went limp.


*~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*


A/N: Well, only one more chapter left to my little rambling story: and I warn everyone now - it is very steamy. So if you don’t like smut; maybe skip the last chapter  Hope this chapter answered a few more questions for you all though! Some of you guys are deceptively clever…but I won’t give anything away!! A huge thanks go to all you amazing people who reviewed. You make me want to write more stories! Seriously, you have spoilt me with such wonderful words. I love how people are trying to guess what happens and who is evil and how it will end...it makes writing this worth it. So to anon, dracoschick007, margaritama, straightlyconfused, Flaming Moth of Doom, JadeLucky, Panther Eyes, Dreamweaver, witchinghour185 and bLondpierogi, I thank you profusely! Will update very soon….