This Subdued Fire

The stuff from the first part applies to the second part, just so\'s ya know. :)
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(Damnit, Ginny! Go away! Shoo! Shoo!) Hermione thought frantically.

Ginny stood back and shrugged. She loped down the stairs to catch up with the others. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Before anyone else could come down the stairs she unlocked the door and went inside. Hermione took a quick shower and dressed in her uniform.

She switched books and stuffed them in her bag and hurried out of the tower to catch the last of breakfast. She walked into the Great Hall and cast a short look at the Slytherin table. No Draco. Shrugging off the mild concern, she joined her frs ats at the table and piled up her plate.

Ron looked at the amount of food Hermione was putting away. \"Hungry are we?\"

\"Starving,\" she replied around a mouth full of fried potatoes.

\"Just don\'t get sick.\"

She swallowed the potatoes. \"I won\'

Breakfast passed in a blur and then it was time for Transfiguration. Draco was there when Hermione walked into the room. Magalagall began talking about Apparating and splinching and all of that. Then she decided to put into action all that she\'d taught.

\"Alright, class. Stand up.\" They stood. \"Please levitate your chairs to the far wall and go stand by them.\"

When that task was accomplished McGonagall gave them the assignment. \"I want you all to Apparate your chairs from one side of the room to the other. All steady now...go!\"

Hermione\'s chair was the first to go. It went out of sight with an audible *pop* and reappeared on the other side underneath a window. Draco\'s followed, settling next to Hermione\'s. Everyone\'s followed in time. Only Neville had a bit of trouble with it. He would cast the spell and his chaouldould flicker a bit but stayed in its spot.

\"Professor, I can\'t do it.\"

\"Of course you can, Neville. Just concentrate,\" McGonagall replied not unkindly.

Neville turned to his chair and Hermione could see the grim concentration on his face. His chair wavered again but then just as it started to solidify, it went out of sight with a fierce *POP*. It settled with a another loud pop on the other side of the room.

Hermione grinned and her Gryffindor classmates applauded. She looked at Draco. Even he clapped politely. She didn\'t know who she was pleased with more, Neville or Draco. The class quieted down and retrieved their chairs from the windowed wall. Sitting at their places, McGonagall praised them and then asked if they had any questions. Hermione raised her hand.

\"Yes, Miss Granger?\"

\"I read in \'Hogwarts, A History\' that there are wards on the castle preventing Apparition.\"

\"Yes, you\'re correct.\"

\"So then how are we able to Apparate the chairs?\"

\"I took down the wards for my classroom only. At the end of class, they will automatically go back up. When you are ready to try Apparating, Professor Snape and I will escort you to Hogsmeade so that you may have freeess.ess.\"

\"Ah.\"

\"Speaking of which, you all are aware that the first Hogsmeade weekend is this weekend. I know I don\'t have to remind you, but please, be on your very best behavior.\" Professor McGonagall looked at the clock. \"Well, we\'ve finished a bit early today. I\'m going to let you all go. Have a good weekend.\"

(A bit early?) Draco thought. (Ten whole minutes.) The Slytherin made a sour face.

The class collected their belongings and left the chamber. Hermione walked out with Harry and Ron. Draco followed behind with his friends.

\"Somebody has a birthday tomorrow.\" Ron singsonged. \"I wonder who it could be.\"

Hermione thumped him on the arm. \"It\'s me, you queer.\" She stuck her tongue out at Ron.

\"Ah yes. You\'ll be..what? Thirty-seven?\"

\"Oh har har har. You\'re just soooo funny.\"

\"I\'m just joking with you. I know you\'ll be seventeen. And lucky you, you get a Hogsmeade weekend for your birthday.\"

\"Right. Like the professors planned it that way.\"

\"You never know, Herm.\" Harry piped up from Hermione\'s other side. \"They have a knack for doing stuff like that.\"

\"I\'ll need evidentiary support for that theory, Harry Potter.\"

\"Such a Doubting Thomas, you are.\"

\"In my nature to be skeptical.\"

\"So we know,\" replied Ron sourly.

Hermione thumped him on the arm again. \"Hater.\"

Ron stuck his tongue out at her. The trio reached their destination: the DADA classroom. Marcellus Blackthorne, a distant relative of Sirius\' was there sitting behind his desk while the new Divination teacher, Delphia Gilliam, stood reading runes over his shoulder. Marcellus looked up at the students filing into his classroom.

\"We\'ll pick this up again later, Delphia?\"

The small brown woman nodded her assent and left the chamber. Professor Blackthorne came from behind his desk and greeted the three who\'d taken their seats. \"Well, how is it going for you so far?\"

\"Not bad, Professor Blackthorne. A bit busy, but you know how it is.\" Ron addressed the older man. Professor Blackthorne had a bit of a soft spot for the three because of his contact with his now deceased third cousin. Professor Blackthorne was also one of the newest members of the Order. He\'d spent a bit of time in Azkban around the time Sirius had also served his sentence. He\'d been put in there under some trumped up charges that the Ministry had been forced to recant a year after he\'d been sentenced. He couldn\'t have imagined the ten years Sirius sat behind those walls - a year had been enough for him.

\"I know. Seventh year was always a bit of a bitch, comparatively speaking. Buck up, kids. You\'ll get through it.\" Marcellus looked up at the other students coming in. \"Excuse me, I have a class to attend to.\"

Blackthorne began his lecture. \"There are some curses that are just as bad as the Unforgivables, yet they do not carry an instant life sentence in Azkaban.\"

Marcellus\' opening statement captured the attention of his audience in a heartbeat. \"One the worst curses, in my opinion is the Veracitatum Curse. More effective than Veritaserum, it\'s also one of the most excruciating things a body can endure. It literally feels like you are spilling your guts. And what happens when you refuse to answer a question... The spell itself is simple enough. All you need do is point your wand and say *\'Veracitas.\'* Now, I need a volunteer. Anyone?\"

The students sat stone silent. Draco looked at Marcellus with something resembling respect. Who would\'ve thought that Blackthorne had enough balls to teach his students about that curse? Draco certainly didn\'t. But Blackthorne was a fool for thinking that anyone, most of all himself, would volunteer to have that hex on them. Draco had had it inflicted on him enough times to not step up to the plate. His mouth pulled downwards in a disgusted sneer. Dear old Dad. What a joy he was sometimes. Marcellus continued on with his lesson.

\"Alright, since no one wants to volunteer, I\'ll just call a name.\" Marcellus scanned the room. \"Ah. Padma. Step up here please.\"

Padma looked at her sister with worry in her eyes but did as Professor Blackthorne requested. \"Now, Padma, when you cast the spell, do it with enough force to have an effect. I want you to ask three questions: what time I went to bed last night, what time I awakened this morning and what I had for breakfast. Do you think you can do that?\"

Padma nodded mutely. \"Good girl.\" Macellus gave her an encouraging smile.

The Ravenclaw prefect pointed her wand at Marcellus and incanted, *\"Veracitas!\"*

A bright blue beam of light came from Padma\'s wand and struck with deadly accuracy in the centre of Marcellus\' abdomen. The older man fell to his knees in obvious agony. Padma asked him the three questions. The first two Marcellus answered readily enough. The last he stalled on. Padma asked him again. Marcellus stalled again.

His face turned deathly pale and pink-tinged tears began streaming down his face. The other students looked on in horrified fascination. Draco felt queasy, seeing from an observer\'s point of view what happened with that particular spell. Draco looked at Padma. Apparently her resolve was waning, too. The girl was a strange sort of green underneath her golden skin. Marcellus was just there on his knees, not saying anything, his eyes redder than wild strawberries, pink tears welling up like mad.

Padma could take no more and ran from the room gagging. Blackthorne drew in a deep, audible breath. He sat back on his feet and looked off into the distance. The redness in his eyes was fading and he blinked rapidly. Marcellus reached into a pocket on his robes and drew out a snowy handkerchief. He wiped his face and looked at the pink and red-stained cloth with a look of shock and horror on his face.

Professor Blackthorne drew himself to his feet, visibly shaken. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. \"Now you see what can happen with that particular curse. The Veracitatum Curse can kill. In its own way, it\'s as effective as the Killing Curse and more powerful than Cruciatus and Imperious. With Cruciatus, it\'s mental pain. If you can remember that this is all in your mind, you can resist it. And you can resist Imperious if your will is stronger than the wizard casting it. But this...this is something different. This curse wraps itself around you; you feel compelled to tell the truth, even if every fibre of your brain is screaming \'lie! lie!\' And if you do lie, there is pain. Not psychological pain, not imaginary pain; but real, true physical pain. There is pain to induce you to tell the truth, there is pain if you lie or try to lie. And if you lie hard enough and long enough or simply do not answer, you will die. Your body will not be able to deal with all of the stimulation and it will give up and give out.\"

Marcellus stumbled over to sit heavily in his chair behind the massive desk. \"Now...there are some aurors and Ministry officials who feel that this spell is perfectly acceptable in certain situations. I find it to be completely the opposite. This spell is torture, plain and simple. But that is a philosophical discussion best saved for your Magical Theory and Ethics classes. Are there any questions?\" A pause. Silence. \"Well then, you may leave.\"

The students woodenly left their seats and continued on to their other courses. Hermione stopped a random Ravenclaw and sent him off to look for Padma and make sure that she was all right. Hermione herself was in no mood to sit and work through equations, listening to Jennifer Vector\'s smiling voice. She went downstairs and out of doors. No doubt she\'d hear it from someone for skiving off, but after that disturbing display in DADA, she was living on her nerves. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Making her way to the oak tree, she pulled her robes closer. Autumn had finadescdescended on the mountains. Hermione sat under the tree\'s sheltering branches for a long while, thinking. There was so much more to this wizarding life than she had first supposed. Yes, she knew about the three Unforgivables...but there were others out there, more ancient and arcane than most knew. That knowledge gave her a pause.

She hadn\'t realized how dangerous magic could really be until that moment. Looking at Professor Blackthorne\'s face, whiter than vellum, streaked with pink...her stomach churned. She\'d been so sure that she could throw off whatever came at her, magically at least. The discovery of her Mage talents had added to her arrogance. Typical Gryffindor arrogance. But this...this *twisting* of something as good and pure as truth left Hermione shaken to the core.

An hour passed, then two. It was time for lunch by Hermione\'s...(Wait just a minute...my watch is gone!)

She sat there horrified, her mind jumping to the worst and correct conclusion. Which meant that Professor Sprout had it. Which meant that the merry little witch knew that someone had been in her private greenhouse...after it had been locked for the night.

(Damn. You\'ve stepped in it now, Hermione.) Her lips curled up and she shook her head at her own carelessness. She got up and strolled into the Great Hall. Ron and Harry were there. They were engrossed in a conversation about Quidditch. Hermione rolled her eyes. That was a sub tha that could keep them occupied for hours. Ron had finally gotten his shot on the Quidditch team when he was selected as Keeper. Now that Angelina Johnson was gone, Professor McGonagall had appointed Harry as captain. Harry had filled the spots left empty with Ginny and Lavender as Chasers (Lavender was a mean shot on a broom!) and Dean and Seamus as Beaters. Looking at Ginny, no one would be able to tell that she played with a fierce viciousness that surpassed even the most feral Slytherin.

Hermione slung her bag underneath the bench and sat on the worn wood heavily. Ron and Harry turned to her and gave her small smiles that said they understood. Sometimes...it wood ood to have good friends. She picked at her lunch, troubled by the scene in the DADA classroom and by the fact that she\'d left a damning piece of evidence behind.

Hermione scanned the room for Draco. She saw him there in his usual spot. Thankfully some things never changed. Instead of ignoring her in this game they played of subterfuge and disavowal, he gave her a commiserating smile and a faint \"chin-up\" expression. Her own mouth quirked in acknowledgement.

Suddenly an owl came flying in from the outside. It was a school owl and it carried a piece of snowy white parchment in its claws. The bird dropped the paper in Hermione\'s salad and began nibbling on the croutons. She tsked at the avian and unfolded the parchment. It was blank inside. Reaching under the bench, she rummaged in her bag until she came up with a quill. Making sure it was inked, she began to write.


*\"\"Yes?\"*

*\"I was faintly concerned when you didn\'t show up to Arithmancy.\"*

*\"You needn\'t have been. I didn\'t intend to go jump in the lake.\" *

*\"Well...I see your rather charming disposition has been restored. If you\'ll excuse me.\"*

The sentences faded from the paper in a trice. Hermione looked to where Draco sat. He was now studiously avoiding her gaze. Hermione sniffed at herself. (What is it that makes me be nasty to Draco,) she wondered.

Damn. She\'d forgotten to write him about her missing watch. Hermione got up from the table abruptly and went to the greenhouse.

There was a class of third years in there. She made herself invisible and tipped into the room. Hermione wended her way through the tables and into the open back room. Amazing, she thought. The lush space that had occupied this room before was now an ordinary storage room filled with shelves, extra plants and gardening tools.

(There must be some sort of wards or illusion charms going on here.) Hermione sighed. She had absolutely no idea of how to proceed. Hermione leaned against a shelf and found herself on the floor. She looked around in awe. The edenic greenhouse was back. Hermione got up and dusted some moss from her robes. She spied a door tucked away in a far corner of the greenhouse. She *Alohomora\'d* the lock and stepped inside.

Surprised again, Hermione saw that it was an ordinary office with a desk and chair. Lying on the desk was her watch. She tucked the watch into her robe pocket. Thankfully, once inside the invisible folds, it became invisible too. Hermione crept back out of the office and the greenhouse back into the classroom area. Sprout hadn\'t stopped her demonstration and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she slipped out of the open doorway.

Taking the watch out of her robe pocket, she looked at the time. Only ten minutes to get to Muggle Studies. Hermione scrambled up the stairs, huffing and blowing by the time she reached the last step. (Oh, damn. Still invisible.)

The hour passed uneventfully. Heading to History of Magic, she ran into Draco coming out of the classroom. She saw him drop something and not stop to pick it up. Bending over, she retrieved a small piece of parchmenhis his time, it had words scribbled on it.

*Expect something in the way of a surprise tonight. I promise you\'ll like it.

D.M.*

Hermione smiled. She managed to get through History class but her mind was on whatever it was that Draco had planned. Binns hadn\'t noticed her apparent preoccupation and continued droning on. Ron and Harry had fallen into their usual stupor. And before she knew it, the hour was up. Done with classes for today, Hermione hurried to her to to change out of those infernal school robes.

As much as she liked the wizarding world, she would never get used to some things. Like robes. All that extra fabric flapping around was a bloody damned nuisance. She far preferred \"Muggle\" clothing. Apparently Harry felt the same way. He often changed out of his robes as soon as he could. Also, Ron and Ginny often sported jeans and jumpers when they were off of school time.

Today\'s ensemble was one of those Absolut Quidditch t-shirts (she\'d picked up a couple from a promotional she\'d stumbled onto in Diagon Alley) and a pair of black trousers. The shirt had a black background and featured little glowing broomsticks and snitches arranged in the outline of an Absolut bottle. The brooms and snitches moved around the front of the shirt in a never ending conga line. Harry and Ron would probably have fits when they saw her.

Slipping into a pair of black platform sandals, she headed downstairs with a deck of cards in her hand. The common room was alive with students. Some were hanging about, others were studying. Hermione pulled up a chair to the table and laid out the cards in a familiar pattern. A neat row of seven, repeated repeated seven times and she was ready to play solitaire until the rest of her friends finished with classes.

Ginny came through the portrait hole first. She gave Hermione a cheery wave and continued on her way to her dormitory. Harry came through followed by Ron and gave Hermione the same routine.

The three descended the stairs again chattering away. Hermione put her cards into the package and shrunk them with a soft *\"Reducio.\"* Tucking them into a pocket, the quartet went to dinner.

As predicted, Ron and Harry had fits over her shirt, demanding to know when and where she\'d gotten it. They went into matching pouts when she told them. Hermione and Ginny exchanged rueful grins and tucked into their plates of steaming dinner. Ron pulled out his new copy of \'Popular Broomsticks\' and began showing Harry the newest Firebolt model to hit the stores.

The friends lolled around the table until it was nearly eight in the evening. The enchanted ceiling was pitch black with small diamond stars winking at them and a bright half-moon in one corner. Ginny suggested a game of Exploding Snap and pulled out the Reduced cards from a pocket in her dungarees.

*\"Engorgio\"*, the red-headed witch said as she flicked her wand over the packet. Ginny dealt them and the four of them spent another couple of hours in play. Hermione\'s Hello Kitty watch mewed the hour. Ten-fifteen the little kitten face read. It had been a long day and most of them had been up before seven this morning.

(Most,) Hermione thought with an inner chuckle. (One of us was curled up in a most compromising position with a certain unmentionable Slytherin.)

They made their way from the Great Hall up to Gryffindor Tower lazily. The good food and good company made them lethargic and pleasant. Entering the common room, they all sprawled in the overstuffed chairs and sofas. Contentment oozed through them. They began recalling stories from way back, like the time Seamus fried his eyebrows off in Charms. Full of laughter and mellow feelings, the talk turned serious.

They spoke of many things: Voldemort, what was to happen after they graduated, friendships gained and lost, death of those dear. The talk died down to companionable silence. Their faces were quiet and contemplative in the flickering light of the torches. Hermione was the first to break the silence.

\"Well...I think I\'m going to bed. It\'s after midnight and I\'m tired.\"

\"After midnight?\" Ron perked up.

\"Yes.\"

\"Then what day is it, Herm?\"

\"Friday?\"

\"Try again dorkface.\"

\"At a loss.\" She shook her head wearing a blank expression.

\"Your *birthday.* Honestly...\"

\"Oh. I\'d forgotten.\"

\"How could you forget?\" Ginny, from behind the circle of Harry\'s arms spoke this time.

\"I don\'t know. I had some things on my mind.\"

\"Must\'ve been heavy to make you forget your own birthday.\" Ginny gave Hermione a speculative gaze. Harry had informed her of Hermione\'s sneaking back in from somewhere, wearing a black silk gown.

Hermione gave a Gallic shrug. Ron jumped up and said, \"Stay right there, I have something for you.\"

He went running up the stairs to the dormitory. Hermione smiled after him. He came back down, seemingly empty handed. But then he opened his palm to reveal a small box. The brown haired Gryffindor eyed it with trepidation.

\"What is it?\" she asked suspiciously.

\"It\'s not a ring, if that\'s what you\'re thinking.\" Ron rolled his eyes.

\"Oh.\" Hermione opened the little blue velvet container. There was a small silver witch\'s hat, enamelled in red with a gold hat band. \"Jesus, Ron. It\'s lovely.\"

Ron turned almost as red as his hair. \"There\'s a chain, too.\"

Hermione lifted the object from its little cushion and examined it in the soft light. \"Would you put it on?\" She lifted her hair from the back of her neck.

Ron looped the little box chain around Hermione\'s neck. \"Well? How does it look?\"

\"It looks good.\" Ron smiled in satisfaction.

She turned to Harry and Ginny. \"Don\'t the two of you have gift giving to do?\"

They exchanged a look. Harry spoke. \"Not until this afternoon.\"

\"Not fair, Potter.\"

\"Yes, but I promise you\'ll like it.\"

\"Alright. But it better be good. And so saying, I am going to retire. Good t alt all. Thanks again, Ron.\" Hermione gave him a brief kiss on the cheek and went up the stairs.

Ron stood there dazed. Harry and Ginny gave him identical looks. \"Ron, old boy, I think you\'ve just scored a lot of points in trying to get back in her good graces. And I think we\'re going to bed. Night.\"

Harry and Gin exchanged a kiss and went to their separate rooms for the night. Ron sat back in his chair and contemplated that kiss. In the middle of his thinking, his brain grew cloudy and he fell asleep in the chair. Hermione tipped back downstairs invisible and in her slippers so she wouldn\'t make any noise. She paused at the sight of Ron slumbering. Hermione sent up a silent thanks for the stone floors instead of creaking wooden ones underneath the thick carpeting.

Crossing swiftly to the portrait hole, she end thd the seventh floor corridor and made for the landing. She tripped over an invisible foot. Hermione turned an annoyed glare at the empty spot behind her. \"Do you have to be such a damned prat all the time?\"

\"Pretty much, yeah.\"

She tsked him. \"Where to?\"

\"Are we still playing the neutral territory game?\"

\"It\'s the safest bet for the both of us, don\'t you think?\"

\"Agreed. The greenhouse again?\"

\"No. I left my watch there yesterday morning. I had to pull a Bond to get it back.\"

\"A...what?\" Hermione could imagine that sardonic brow lifting.

\"It\'s a Muggle thing. Never mind. But we need somewhere to go. It\'s too cool outside for the pitch. And I have reservations about the couch in the Astronomy Tower.\"

\"What\'s wrong with the tower?\"

\"Too many trysting couples.\"

\"Like who?\"

\"Well, I ran into Snape and Vector getting on one night.\"

\"You did not,\" he replied with faint surprise

\"Mm-hm. Shocking, to say the least. Our Potions Master is quite the vigorous lover.\"

\"You bad girl. Naughty thoughts a the the Potions Master?\"

She gave a throaty chuckle that warmed Draco\'s toes. \"I suspect that under that mop of lank hair, he\'s quite attractive.\"

Hermione felt rather than saw Draco moving closer to her. \"Should I be jealous?\"

She laughed. \"Why? We\'re not exclusive, Malfoy.\" And she edged away from him.

Her statement took him aback. What she said was true. They weren\'t exclusive by a long shot. But in the short fortnight he\'d spent in Hermione\'s company, he was beginning to think that maybe he should cut his ties with Pansy. He hadn\'t slept with her since that night and the prospect of doing so d't e't enthuse him at all. Then again, he didn\'t want Hermione to think she had the upper hand, which she did. The little witch.

\"Come along,\" he growled feeling bested.

She fell into step beside him. He noticed that he couldn\'t hear her feet. \"Granger?\"

\"Hmm?\"

\"Are you wearing those blasted fuzzy slippers?\"

Hermione let her feet become visible. \"Damnit, I hate those things.\"

\"But I like them.\"

\"No accounting for taste.\"

\"You\'re such a snob.\" Hermione\'s feet winked out of sight.

\"But I\'m an impeccably dressed snob.\"

Hermione had no argument for that. It was true. \"Malfoy, where are we going?\"

\"I\'ve a surprise for you.\"

\"Is it the the surprise you noted me about?\"

\"Nope.\"

They ended up at the dungeon entrance. \"We\'re not going to Slytherin. I refuse.\" Hermione\'s voice held a truculent tone.

\"We\'re not going to Slytherin, woman. Cool off.\"

They headed down the stairs; down, down into what Hermione thought would be the very bottom of the place. Torches lit as they continued on their descent. But no, there looked to be several flights of stairs still heading down. Draco became visible and Hermione did, too.

\"Where are we?\" Hermione asked.

\"Seventh-leveln.\"n.\"

\"Jesus. This must be where all the bodies are hidden.\" Hermione looked around and gave an apprehensive glance.

\"Some,\" Draco replied nonchalantly. \"Come on.\" He turned left and she was right on his heels. She didn\'t want to get lost in this dark labyrinth.

Another turn to the right and they were in a chamber that was fully alight with torches. There were couches, a bed, tables and a roaring fire in the chilly room. Draco closed the door with a flourish. Hermione looked around with her mouth opened slightly.

\"Is this the surprise?\"

\"Could be.\" Draco looked at her with an unusual twinkle in his eye.

\"It\'s lovely. We\'ll have to do something with the colour scheme though.\" The room was done in green, white and black.

Draco looked at Hermione closely. \"Absolut Quidditch. Lord preserve us.\"

Hermione looked at the conga-ing brooms and snitches and smiled. \"You like it.\"

\"Remind me to buy you some proper nightwear.\"

\"I won\'t wear it. Lace and frills are not me.\"

\"That gown you wore the other night was most definitely you.\"

\"Special circumstances.\"

\"Special my ass.\"

\"You\'re not all that chic, either.\" Yet he was. The cut of his grey pants was immaculate
and he wore a snowy white shirt opened at the collar. He looked monied and delicious. (Damn him,) she thought and pursed her lips.

\"Anyway...this wasn\'t the surprise I was talking about.\"

\"Oh?\"

\"No. I overheard Weasel and Stinkpotter talking about your birthday, which is today.\"

\"You didn\'t.\"

\"Oh calm yourself. I\'m not making a declaration. We\'ve only been on quasi-friendly terms for a week and a half.\"
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
\"Here.\" He pulled a long skinny box from the wand pocket of his pants and tossed it to her.
She caught it handily and opened it. \"Chopsticks?\"

\"Look at them closer. Damn woman, always complaining.\"

Hermione lifted a chopstick from the box. It was surprisingly heavy. She turned it over in her hand. The stick glowed appreciably in the torchlight. And then she saw it, right underneath the flowing Chinese script. A tiny little jewelers mark. Hermione squinted. \"Twenty-four carat...Malfoy. You shouldn\'t have.\"

\"I know.\"

\"No, I mean, you shouldn\'t have. I can\'t accept this.\" She put the golden chopstick back into the box and reached out to give it to him.

Draco\'s face closed off. \"Oh, I\'m not good enough to accept things from?\"

\"That\'s not what I meant.\"

\"Pray, what did you mean?\" Draco\'s voice had taken on a steel edge.

\"I just mean that...we barely know each other...I feel funny about taking something so valuable. Almost like you\'re trying to compensate me for my services.\" Hermione looked at him mutinously. \"I\'m not a whore, Malfoy.\"

\"Pfft.\" He waved away her concern. \"Take it. I want you to have it.\" At the protest forming at her lips, he sighed. \"Look. I know you\'re not a whore. But I felt that it was the proper thing to do, despite the situation. I insist.\"

\"Fine.\" She went to the mirror which hung above the sideboard. Twisting up her hair she stuck the chopsticks in the heavy bun to secure it. \"How do they look?\"

\"Very nice indeed.\"

\"I can only see the top of them.\"

Malfoy planted a kiss on the back of her neck. \"I can see them and they look good.\"

\"Thank you, very much.\"

\"Not a problem. Now let\'s see what we can do about getting you out of these clothes...