The Dreamer

Revelation!

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Curiosity was going to get her killed. Sure, Hermione knew that casting a spell and surreptitiously following a few paces behind Parkinson and Malfoy was probably asking for all kinds of trouble, but the real issue was that she was finding it all kinds of fun. It certainly was taking her mind off her latest row with Harry. Perhaps she should be the first to apologize. No, no time to reflect on that now. Draco and Pansy were turning another street corner.

Side-stepping an enchanted fruit cart, Hermione sliently counted to three before resuming her carefully measured steps behind the Slytherin duo. She could pick up names and adjectives from Pansy’s high-pitched voice. The darker witch rambled on with gossip about the other girls at Hogwarts. Padma had been described quite unfavorably just then. However, the low tones coming from Malfoy’s direction were indistinguishable from a mumbled drone.

This could be more than tricky. It was unlikely that Parkinson and Malfoy would spill any real secrets as they darted about Hogsmead. Hermione resolved to follow them to their first destination, and if nothing untoward occurred or some dastardly secret plot revealed, then she would go about her own errands.

A few more turns revealed that the duo intended to go into The Hogs Head.

“Shady. Why not The Three Broomsticks? Oh, right. Madam Rosemerta!” Hermione thought in rapid succession.

But even if they were social outcasts, The Hogs Head seemed to be a place far beneath the likes of Parkinson and Malfoy. Pureblood elitists were not known to step foot into the place, well, not if they had a choice in the matter.

While waiting for the two to go in, Hermione performed a location charm. It appeared Malfoy and Parkinson had been seated in a booth along the east-facing wall, from outside inspection, this wall also comprised one side of a dark alley. The sun was just beginning to set.

Hermione knew a few charms she could use to counter most anti-spying spells. But judging by how empty The Hogs Head seemed, she doubted they’d use something dark and nasty. Or so was her hope.

Hermione swiftly stole into the alley, coming to the very spot where she would be directly across her quarry. There was no one around and she hoped that it stayed that way. The last thing she wanted was to be bumped into by a stumbling drunk that might shout, land a lucky curse, or otherwise draw attention to her concealed form. She placed a One Way Window Charm on the partition that separated her from the pair on the other side.

To get a better view she had to climb and shift her weight to stand on a few rickety wooden crates. If she held still, Hermione realized she wouldn’t need to place a sticking charm on her makeshift perch. However, before she could weigh her options, Hermione had been distracted by sight of Draco looking remarkably relaxed. He had his feet resting on the other side of the bench by Pansy’s legs.

She noticed both Syltherins used their own house glasses instead of the establishment’s ware, which admittedly was a bit filthy even on a good day. Aberforth Dumbledore may have believed any amount of alcohol to be sanitizing, but others had good reason to disagree with his policies as to what constituted acceptable hygiene. Still, Hermione could not contain a snort of disbelief at the sight of their cups.

“No, Parkinson, that's not snobbish at all. And you Malfoy, as if you deserve finer?” Hermione whispered darkly as she prepared for the work that lay ahead of her.

Soon she was set to task with decoding their conversation, once the proper charm had been applied, Hermione used a quick quotes quill to record the following conversation:

P: It’s positively awful. The bitch knows what she’s doing, Draco. She knows!

The venom with which Pansy spoke made Hermione Granger’s stomach roll uneasily. There would be no telling what Pansy and Draco might try to do had they discovered her eavesdropping. But, digging deeper for a little extra daring, Hermione had confidence in her skills to speedily apparate if needed. A useful little hold over from the War.

D: I’ll give the witch credit. She certainly thought out the great majority of this.

P: But, do you think she’s planned for me to come to you like this, instead of how I'm supposed to?

D: It’s possible, but not likely. She’s either overlooked one key element, or has planned for it, but thinks it's not a possibility to worry over. Pity for her.

Hermione studied Draco. He seemed intent on choosing his next words wisely. That would be a look of his to file away for later. And if he ever directed that look at her, she planned to be alert for whatever nastiness would spew her way.

P: But what about Blaise and Daphne, how could she do this to us?

D: Blaise has made his own bed, he’ll have to work to do, rest assured. Tell him to standby and do what is expected of him while I formulate the next move. But, back to the more important point, the key element missing is me. If she thinks I’ll willingly cave into her demands like a pawn, even if it is to help my friends, the chit has another thing coming. I don’t get blackmailed, I do the blackmailing.

Hermione froze again. Malfoy was simmering. Did he know she’d been the Prefect to catch Blaise and Daphne going at it last week in an abandon classroom? Come to think of it, wasn’t Zabini supposed to be dating Parkinson?

P: No, you don’t. You’re reformed remember?

Hermione gazed curiously as the two Slytherins shared what passed for friendly warmth. Draco patted Pansy’s hand and looked sheepish.

D: Right, I'm reformed. Still doesn’t mean I won’t invent my own rules to play by, they'll just be a little less dangerous.

P: I feel so hopeless, Draco, really, I do! Why is she maneuvering us about like this, why not just be direct with you? I mean, Merlin, while you don’t have a reputation with the girls, it’s not as if you’re completely unapproachable. There's charm and wit there, how does she know you'd overlook her! Her plan is completely unnecessary, she could have even had her parents petition yours!

Hermione mimed a minor puking fit, but otherwise did not move from her perch. Draco seemed to think for a bit. And Pansy sighed before drinking another sip of warm Apple’s Bite hard cider. Hermione’s stomach grumbled at the sight as finger like wisps of steam gently wafted from the Slytherin's glass mug. Draco finally uncrossed his arms to sit up and take a thoughtful pull of what looked to be butter beer.

D: It’s about my money, Pansy. If I reject her, or my parents reject a petition, then in her eyes she's lost her only chance. Without a bit of extra leverage there’s no to access to my inheritance and position, or what's left of it. She knows potioning me or using other means won't work, bloodline protections offer much in the way of immunity from most kinds of magic, so there’s no other way of looking at this. Her plan is to entrap me anyway she can. I know it's what I'd do if I were her.

Hermione suddenly got the distinct feeling they weren’t talking about her at all. Relief washed over her. There was no way the person Malfoy and Parkinson were talking about could possibly be her, because, well, it all made more sense this way, really.

P: And then there’s Granger to worry about. Talk about unstable.

Hermione’s lunch almost came up. Now they really were talking about her. And how dare Parkinson say unstable! “Pot, I’d like to introduce myself, I’m Kettle. I know we’ve met before, but…”

Draco cleared his throat. He seemed genuinely ill at ease. His eyes darted about before he was aware of what he was doing.

D: Yes, she seems to be off her game lately. What was that in the carriage, anyway? Odd, that's what! Even odder, it’s almost as if I can sense her everywhere I go now.

P: Meaning?

Hermione panicked. Draco looked in her direction. But she was sure he couldn’t see her! Her charm had been preformed flawlessly as well as the 16 others she’d used since stepping outside the enchanted carriage.

D: Meaning, I’m never alone. Not even in my dreams.

P: You think it was Granger’s handiwork in Divinations, don’t you?

D: I’d bet my entire inheritance it’s been her doing all along. And I doubt she’ll take the only offer of assistance she’s likely to get from you, which honestly is more than she deserves.

Pansy looked bored. But soon caught that Draco was studying the same spot on the wall for the last few minutes. This would be the very same location that Hermione was sure he couldn’t see through. To add to her conviction, she observed his eyes were focused somewhere off to her left.

P: Pity, and I thought I might actually be doing something nice for once.

It was this disturbing revelation that caused Hermione to loose her balance. What happened next felt like an eternity as she toppled off the wooden crates causing them to crash about her, one even knocking into her before it bounced off her body. That was going to bruise. The resulting chaos even toppled a few garbage bins in its turbulent wake.

“Oh, holy shite!!!” Hermione hissed. There was no second guess as to whether the pair had heard the commotion. Even the dead could have heard that ruckus from halfway across Hogsmead.

Now they were standing in their seats and she could see Malfoy reaching for his wand, Parkinson deftly following his lead. There was no time to think and blind panic set in. What happened next rivaled the cacophony that had only happened just moments before. Hermione apparated with a booming crack narrowly just missing Malfoy and Parkinson arrival as both apparated into the alley a hare’s second later.

Holding his forefinger to his lips, Draco motioned for Pansy to look around. No need to draw further attention to themselves if no one else was rushing to investigate. Parkinson carefully nudged at the crates and garbage strewn about. Draco examined the pattern of disarray, and it was clear that someone had been there. Without a word, he cast about several revealing spells, but he was soon vexed to realize the interloper had vanished.

“Find anything, Pans?” Draco murmured, not really trusting himself to believe Granger had a hand in this.

Pansy chuckled, and Draco looked up to see her holding a wand. He recognized it at once, it'd been the same one pressed to his throat in Third Year.

“I believe you have a stalker, dearest. She’s a vast improvement over Astoria, but if you think I won’t use this to secure my marriage to Blaise….”

“Don’t!” Pansy looked momentarily taken aback. “Don’t threaten me too,” Draco sneered. “Even if you think you're joking. Because I can promise you this, whatever information Astoria has over you three is no one else’s fault but sum of the collective 'own'.”

“But you’ll still help?” pouted Pansy, seemingly chastised by his outburst. She’d no idea he’d take her little remark so seriously.

“As I was saying, she’s forgotten one thing. I have nothing left to hide. The upside of being infamous I suppose. Therefore, I am my own free agent and I don’t play by her rules, your rules, or Granger's.”

“But if she's haunting you and Astoria discovers it…” Pansy warned, before carefully adding, “I just meant it in jest, you know.”

“Hand me the wand.” Draco growled. “I’m going to deal with the insufferable one in my own time.”

Pansy visibly relaxed some. “I’m glad she didn’t follow my advice.” Pansy winked at Draco now, trying to lighten his mood. “I’ve been placing minor bets with others as to the extent of your reformation.”

“For or against?” Sighed Draco as he pocketed Hermione’s wand. Someone was going to be very displeased come breakfast. Several someones, actually. This made him smirk.

“It’s unnerving to see you like that, at a time like this, ” Pansy gasped, before righting the scene with a flick of her wand and then reversing the charm on the wall. “Well, if you must know, a little of both. But, I figure you might be pleased to know there are more ‘for’ than ‘against’ on the books.”

Pansy smiled wickedly, her amusement more than evident, “So, it’s true. She’s been making little visits in your dreams?”

“I wouldn’t call them friendly if that's what you're implying…” Malfoy grimaced as he led Pansy out of the alley. He then caught his companion’s expectant stare.

“But, apparating without your wand or visiting the dreams of others, there’s more power there than in a thousand Astorias.”

“And you like it.” Pansy grinned wolfishly, her coal black eyes alight with mischief, “Admit it. Her repressed desire to see you, even after the War, tell me, how does it feel knowing you could crush her heart and soul if you wanted to?”

“Apparently not as good as you seem to think it should,” snorted Draco. He offered Pansy his arm as they climbed the steps back into The Hogs Head.

Pansy hissed, “A girl needs some fun you know. All the days that go by without Blaise by my side, having him blackmailed into pretending to be with Daphne and snubbing me in front of everyone. It's hideous and – ”

“That should teach you a lesson about how to better conduct yourself in the future.” Draco complained. “Always have a plan B, Pans. Oh, and always burn the evidence, cover your tracks with misdirection, and in general refrain from boasting about your misdeeds. Remember this is advice to sin by."

They were back at their booth, and Draco downed the last of his butter beer before dropping a few coins onto the table. “Let’s just go. I’ve got plans, people to ensnare, humiliate, and/or blackmail. And to top it all off, I’m a little tired today.”

Pansy smiled knowingly before whispering under her breath, “I’ll bet you’re tired if your little sneak is anything to go by.”

Draco had been walking out the door when Pansy had murmured that final quip. Right, there was that matter to attend to later.

Hearing Pansy confirm that it was most likely some form of desire fueling Granger’s odd behavior made him feel all the more confidant, if not a little worried. If she was out to spy on him for the Order or anyone else trying to gather evidence to reverse his pardon, which had been an unpopular move for the Ministry, then he would puppet the witch by pulling every single one of her silly little strings until he was sure she was completely strung out on tension that she couldn’t think much less question anything he said or suggested.

And then he’d snap all their strings for even thinking that they could manipulate him. The Darkest Wizard of their time was far more powerful than even Hermione, and Malfoy doubted she would resort to darker measures to catch him. It's not as if he possessed much in the way of forbidden artifacts at this point anyhow.

Draco, however, wasn’t above manipulating his own emotions to get what he wanted. By now, Pansy had caught up to him and fell into step silently beside him.

At the sight across the street, Draco permitted himself a small chuckle, one so devious that it startled Pansy, who seemed confused by his sudden mirth. Her attention soon turned to Blaise and Daphne. Across the street in front of Honeydukes, the two seemed to be engaged in an intense snog. Draco heard Pansy sniff with disapproval, but they walked on without a word.

Draco lead the way to their next destination, a little shop for decorations that Patil had assigned to them. Once inside, Pansy morosely gathered the items, as Draco contemplated on how best to steal the biggest Golden Snitch of all time, and right from under Potter and Weasley’s sniveling noses too. Best of all, as those two sodding tosspots watched on, ignorant of the games going on all around them, Draco Malfoy began envisioning himself having a grand time at everyone's expense. He'd teach them a thing or two about living with infamy. If it all worked out, everyone involved would be graduating with some kind of smudge on otherwise sterling reputations, especially those thought themselves to be untouchable.

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A/N: I'm working on the other chapters, I'd been dealing with a big ugly bout of writer's block. If I haven't jinxed myself, maybe by tonight or tomorrow I'll have the next chapter ready to post. Thanks to all who have reviewed.