Obscurity

Required Disclaimer: Obviously I am not the WB or JK. This story is not meant to infringe on the rights or offend any scary corporations and lawyers that could sue my pants off. These characters belong to their creator, I am only borrowing them for a short while, and most likely putting them in positions and situations that would make JK frown. On with the story then...

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Hermione sighed and checked the time. If she was going to be ready for classes on time she needed to get up. She placed a small white handkerchief, Malfoy crest up, between the pages of her book to mark her place before setting the novel aside. She stretched languidly…loving the way the cool perfumed sheets slid against her skin. When Lavender had seen them she had squealed excitedly about some brand name and what she would do to have anything from that particular store.

She concentrated, gripping the bed sheets beneath her to prevent her hand from flicking and unraveled the wards on the curtains around her four poster. So far she was disappointed with her wandless ability. She was unable to do any spells of difficulty. And it pissed her off. Plus she couldn’t talk to Draco about it because he was avoiding her like the plague. He never skipped classes, but even in Arithmancy his eyes passed over her in that way he had. That way of looking through her like she didn’t exist. It cut her, like it never had before.

Because now she had remembrances of husky desperate words in her ear. “Why do you enchant me?” “Sometimes I picture you in my shirt, other times naked and golden” “I’ve been dying to touch you” ” You’re lips taste like candy” She honestly thought she might remember every word he’d ever said to her. And in the darkness of her room in the early hours of the morning she could practically hear his voice sliding over her skin, just like her red silk sheets.

But she couldn’t lie abed all day and fantasize about his voice. Oh lord, she was so gone. She was one of those girls. You know the kind. That giggle and follow the boy around, making him feel hunted and frightened. But at least she hadn’t been reduced to actual stalking. In fact she had spent a lot of time being angry at him lately, because all of the sudden he seemed extra good at being bad. And her friends were paying the price. But it was Friday, she only had two classes, and she had plans for her afternoon. She was going back to the shrieking shack, and getting in some uninterrupted practice.

Practice had never failed her before.

And if she was knee deep in magic she wouldn’t be able to think about one gray eyed boy and his unmitigated effect on her senses.

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Draco Malfoy hit the castle like an evil tornado this week. By Friday he had hexed three students, given out eight detentions, and made four second year students cry. That was in between classes. He was in fine form today, perfectly groomed, his eyes flashing, and his tongue razor sharp. His snide comments and sneers were flawless and exceptionally sly and cruel. He hadn’t lost a single point for Slytherin.

Neville carefully avoided him.

How could he respect and admire someone, and completely hate them at the same time? He supposed it was because Malfoy was everything he was not. Popular, powerful, good looking, intelligent, graceful, talented, and quick witted. Neville especially envied his ability with a broom. It was true Harry was exceptional and flew with amazing grace and speed, but there was just something about the way Malfoy flew. Reckless and daring with a showy style that was uniquely him.

The fact was that Malfoy made people pay attention, whether it was good or bad attention was no matter, it was a skill that Neville would never possess.

But something had definitely ruffled his feathers. The guy sure swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. Just last week he had been almost jovial, teasing young students good naturedly, joking with his friends. Now he was cruel and biting, as if reminding people that he was Draco Malfoy, to be feared and admired.

So Neville avoided him. It had made him feel warm and fuzzy to have Hermione sweep down in his defense like an avenging angel, but he’d rather avoid the accompanying humiliation if possible. Sasha joined him at their table, followed his gaze, and shook her head. She reached under the table and squeezed his knee reassuringly before asking him about his morning classes.

But it did not seem as though the Slytherin Prince was ready to let the afternoon settle down into peacefulness.

“I caught your tryouts this morning Potter.” His cold drawling voice rang out across the hall in a way that was meant to carry. “Sorry about you’re dismal luck, I’ve never seen such a despicable waste of airtime.”

Harry held his head high, kept his eyes forward and obviously intended to walk by without acknowledging the snide comment, but Ron ruined Harry’s dignified exit by spinning around. “Are you insulting my sister?” He snarled, hands clinched, face getting redder by the second.

“Now don’t worry Weasley,” Malfoy began, holding up placating hands, “I’m sure she’ll get on the team. She is after all shagging the captain. And I’ve been told that is where her true talent lays.”

Harry managed to hit him first, in a room full of teachers. Neville was at the right angle to see Malfoy immobilize Harry’s arm with one hand, and punch him brutally in the stomach with the other, twice. The teachers were not at the proper angle and did not see.

They swarmed over the fight like ants on a hill, handing out detentions like decrees of justice. Points melted from the Gryffindor pool. Malfoy was escorted to the hospital wing, even though it was clearly obvious that he was unhurt.

Slytherin points remained unblemished, and Malfoy received nothing worse than a dirty look from McGonagall. No one doubted that he had started the whole thing, but no matter how nasty his words were, fighting was not tolerated.

It was only after everything had settled down, and long after Malfoy had been dismissed, that we discovered that Harry’s rib was broken. Hermione did not take it well, and Neville did not envy the Slytherin when she found him, not at all.

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Hermione knew where the Slytherin common room was, after six years here, she knew where all the common rooms were. She wasn’t sure if it was common knowledge or not, but she knew a lot of things that other people didn’t and took it in stride. She did not however know the password. They changed constantly. She knew the password to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws were too clever to let theirs slip and Slytherins were too sneaky.

But Hermione wasn’t above standing in the shadows until a couple of first years came along, and then barging in behind them into their commons. If she had been anyone else, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, any other Gryffindor, she had no doubt that her uninvited entrance would have caused an immediate uproar, culminating with her being tossed unceremoniously out on her ass. However she was Hermione Granger and her appearance in the dungeon was greeted with shocked silence and slack jawed staring.

Draco Malfoy was sprawled in an armchair by the fire, his head bent over his potions text book, his hand busily writing. He was the only person in the room who didn’t look up. He paid her no mind, just like he had all week. The bruises on his knuckles stood out in sharp relief as he gripped his quill too tightly. The red hot rage that had come over her at learning that Harry had been injured by this idiot did not lessen at the sight of him. If he had looked up at her, given her his slow sexy smile, she might have been distracted. But to continue to ignore her added insult to injury and she was not in the mood to be trifled with.

She didn’t even realize that she was crossing the room until she had knocked the book from his hands and spun his chair to face her. She knew her face was probably blotchy with rage and didn’t care. She didn’t care if she shouted and everyone heard her. She didn’t care what a damn one of them thought. Hermione considered herself to be good with words, spoken and written, and didn’t care that she sounded like an uneducated shrieking banshee…that is how mad she was. “YOU BROKE HIS FUCKING RIB, YOU YOU YOU SLYTHERIN!”

“Wow Granger, you look really mad. Do you kiss your mum with that mouth?” She grabbed his robes and shook him violently, bracing her feet so she didn’t tumble into him. She was off balance, and completely open to attack, but he didn’t even try to shake loose from her.

“YOU EVIL BIGHEADED SELFCENTERED EGOTISCAL PRAT…I CAN’T BELIVE YOU! HOW DARE YOU!”

“I don’t suppose you bothered to care that Potter assaulted me first…” He drawled and she pulled her hand back to smack him. To smack that aloof, collected, look from his aristocratic features. She was so mad she couldn’t breathe, and he looked…smug. He had to see it coming a mile away, and didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself. But the blow never connected. Instead she tumbled to the floor, hard, having been hit with a large solid object that after further observation turned out to be Pansy.

They scuffled for a moment, while Pansy writhed on top of her, trying to get her hands free to hit her, before Hermione managed to flip and pin her, arms behind her back, legs spread eagled and trapped beneath her own. Her struggles were ineffectual but her screeching voice penetrated Hermione’s skull, starting a low dull ache. “You keep your filthy mudblood hands off of him, you psycho…It’s bad enough that you think you own the school but now you barge in here…you big haired freak!!!”

“Hush up Pans.” Draco said, not unkindly, as he gripped her arm and pulled her up off the other woman. Pansy scrambled to her feet, her arms bruised and her hair pulled half out of her ponytail. Her eyes were aglow with a fanatical light. Hermione looked on in horror and realized that she had been acting just like that. Draco stood by her side, his hand on her arm, standing so close that parts of his body were touching hers. And everyone was looking at them…”You alright?” He asked, and she realized he wasn’t talking to her, he was talking to Pansy.

“I want her out of here now!” Pansy screeched, stomping her foot and lunging as if she was going to attack her again. Hermione started to drop into a defensive stance but Draco was pulling her behind him and she realized that he was right and fell into step. She lowered her eyes so she didn’t have to meet anyone’s gaze, and wished she could lower the volume control on her ears because Pansy was still stomping around and screeching loudly. At least Parkinson’s apparent insanity overshadowed her own moment of uncontrollable anger.

“She’s Crazy!” Hermione burst out the moment they were outside in the hall.

:”She’s Dangerous Granger, don’t challenge her, especially on her own territory.”

Hermione snorted and looked up at him. “It didn’t take me five seconds to render her harmless. The worst she gave me was a splitting headache. To top everything else.”

“Walk with me.” She fell into step with him, and instead of going up the hall he led her further into the dungeons. She started to open her mouth, words about Harry on the tip of her tongue…but he spoke first. “Pans is unstable, I wouldn’t push her.”

“Unstable how?”

“It’s really not my place to say, but Pans has had a rough home life, a lot of social problems, she doesn’t have the best coping skills, and sometimes she compensates by taking stimulants…it’s gotten worse this year.
“You mean…Drugs?” Hermione was completely flabbergasted. She hadn’t even considered that kids at Hogwarts might actually be doing drugs.

“That’s what the muggles call them, isn’t it? I trust you won’t go blabbing this around.”

“But Malfoy, we should tell a teacher! She could hurt herself or someone, she needs help.”

He spun on her suddenly, his eyes a cold slate grey. “Hogwarts has a no tolerance policy, they’d send her home, not help her. You’re not going to tell anyone. I’ve got it under control.” He resumed walking, a brisk pace that had her almost running to keep up. “Just stay away from her, she gets very mean sometimes.”

“But Dumbledore…”

“She’s in Slytherin, not Gryffindor.”

“Draco, Dumbledore cares about all the students, the ones in Slytherin too…”

“You don’t understand it Granger. You’re all goodness and light and fairytales and kids in Slytherin learn early that this isn’t a fair playground.”

Hermione stopped and stamped her foot angrily. “Don’t give me that stupid boy line Malfoy. Telling me I don’t understand prejudges…hello, mudblood here remember. My entire family is in hiding and I’m here staring all of you down just for the right to go to school here, just for the right to live.”

“You’re not staring me down.” He said quietly, turning to face her, his features solemn and serious. “I don’t think like that.”

“But you don’t stand up against them either.” The last word broke on a sob and she ruthlessly sucked in ragged breaths…refusing to cry.

“Everyone has the right to their opinions Granger. You can’t holler about freedom in one breath and scream that believing in Pure Blood is illegal the next.”

“So you agree with them! You think that killing and torturing muggle-borns is alright!”

“I never said that I thought that breaking the law was alright. Murder is wrong Granger, and they should be punished for it.” He ran one hand wearily through his hair and turned his head with a sigh. “I’m just saying, that freedom means that the evil guys are free too. Free to think and say what they want.”

“You know things; you could help us stop the killings, and Voldemort.” She said in a soft whisper. Her voice trembling on the name that Harry insisted that they use. Malfoy just grasped her arm and led her down a side corridor to a small room and closed the door behind them. There was a torch burning somewhere in the darkness. It didn’t offer enough light to see more than the shadows dancing across his face.

“I’ve already told you Hermione. I’m not Harry Fucking Potter. I’m not one of your saintly Gryffindor pals. I intend to survive this war, preserve what’s left of my family name, and protect you. I can’t do a damn one of those things if I’m dead.”

“I’m not asking you to go out with you’re wand and hunt death eaters. I’m just saying you have information.” She said bravely, ignoring his declaration that her safety ranked so high because that was something that she’d rather think about in the privacy of her own thoughts. “Surely, letting us know a bit here and there wouldn’t get you killed.”

He was silent for a long time. She found herself counting his slow even breaths, mesmerized by the fire dancing over his pale skin. He was so close to her…Closer than he’d been in forever…

“Malfoy…” He cupped her face in his hands, running his thumb over her lips. He hadn’t touched her in days and it shocked her how quickly her heart sped up, how fast her body responded to his nearness.

“They aren’t careful with you. They send you down into dungeons, and evil forests, and bloody battles. Every time I turn around they offer you up like some sort of virgin sacrifice to the cause.” His voice was hoarse and sketchy, she’d never heard him sound like that and if she didn’t know better she’d say he was on the brink of tears. “The bitter truth is that you can’t save them all, so if I tell you of muggles and mayhem and plots, those boys will have you knee deep in it. And your luck will run out, and there will be a beautiful service where they’ll speak of your bravery and your beauty. They’ll have flowers and speeches, and your parents will be there. But Draco Malfoy won’t be invited or included. So I’ll sit on the sidelines, just out of sight and mourn you when they’ve all walked away to fight their war…”

“I intend to help win this war. I’m going to fight by Harry’s side, I’m going to do everything in my power to bring Voldemort down, and I can do it a lot better if you help me.”

He kissed her then. One of those desperate kisses that left her robbed of breath or thought or strength in her knees. She found herself pressed between the rough stone wall of the room and Draco’s rock hard body and thought it was a good place to be. His whole body trembled against her, and he clutched her too tight, and yet he felt so good that she didn’t care that she would probably have bruises in the morning.

“You must know by now I can deny you nothing.” He whispered raggedly against her neck, clutching her to him like she was his lifeline in a raging storm. “So ask me to die for you, ask me to kill for you, but please don’t ask me to watch you walk into danger.”

“I can’t stand aside Draco. It’s just not who I am.”

He pulled back and cupped her face again. He wiped the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks drying her silent tears. “Promise me something.” She nodded wordlessly. “Promise me you won’t go anywhere without me.”

“I can’t.”

“I know.” He kissed her again. A soft press of lips that left her mouth bereft when he pulled back. “The wolf, Lupin, he’s being held at Crabbe’s manor house in Luxemburg. In the dungeons. They’re hoping it will lure out Potter the way that Black did.” He took a deep breath. “Tell Dumbledore about it. It would be total foolishness to try and get him out yourself, no matter how much luck Potter has.”

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Authors Notes:

In the wake of HBP this story has become AU. I’ve never followed cannon completely and will not be changing my plot to accommodate HBP. The basic plot was planned before this came out. That’s why it’s fanficion.

Okay, Ranting done. I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated. My muse has been on vacation, reading HBP, and spending freakishly long hours at its horrendous job. I got some amazing reviews though and had to sit up late tonight to finish this chapter.

I love Possessive Draco too; he is more than welcome to be possessive of me any ole time he wants.

Thank you all for your compliments. I did put a lot of work into the conversation about their families and I’m flattered that you guys noticed. I also had some questions about the martial arts. Yes I do practice. And it is slightly out of character for Hermione to be so into it. She’s a bookworm who isn’t into sports or exercise. But in my story she was physically assaulted and was looking for ways to take control of her life. Learning to defend herself is one way of doing that. Learning wandless magic is another. I really can see her doing this, because Hermione takes nothing laying down, that is why she is so cool.

I had some people who were concerned about Draco’s behavior at the end of last chapter, I probably shouldn’t say because it gives some things away, but his feelings were hurt. Hermione is frantic at the thought of anyone finding out that she’s gone slumming and it would hurt anyone’s feelings.

And I know I through some big things in here, and just kind of glossed over them. Pansy is taking wizard drugs, Slytherin feels discriminated against, Draco is some sort of closet freedom fan…but those things are second to the plot. I’m just trying to add to the whole illusion breaking open to a harsher reality than Hermione imagined. Hogwarts is no fairy tale, and Draco is no prince, and she is just beginning to realize that. Because no matter how smart she is, she is just a young teenage girl. Also I have no idea how long this fic will be, some things are planned vaguely, some things aren’t, so I just don’t know. Till I get sick of writing I suppose.

Well I’m on pins and needles to see what you think so drop me a line and tell me I suck or it rocks or something…

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