January 2003
When Draco stopped crying, Hermione withdrew her hand from his face, sat back and studied him soberly.
His expression grew guarded and bitter as he looked back at her.
Her other hand was still on his shoulder. They stared at each other in silence for several minutes. Even the air between them felt raw.
She had him. She'd done what she'd been ordered to do. But she had no idea how she could demonstrate it to Moody or Kingsley. How on earth was she supposed to demonstrate that she controlled him?
"If you're loyal to the Order, why keep climbing rank?" she finally asked.
His eyes were like mirrors. His expression mask-like again. He smirked at her. "It was obvious that my offer was only accepted out of desperation. The Order of the Phoenix as an organisation may be bound to keep its word, but Moody and Shacklebolt are strategists. Claiming they could get me pardoned if the Order won was almost laughable. I assumed that once I outlived my usefulness, you'd blow my cover so that the Order could take advantage of the disorder following my death. Therefore," his mouth twisted. "I tried to position myself in order of maximise the potential fallout."
Hermione's hand on his shoulder tightened.
"Why kill Gibbon?"
His eyes narrowed. "I was wrapping up unfinished business. He'd offered suggestions for how my mother should be punished."
"So you dismembered him?"
Draco's expression was suddenly cold as ice. "How many spies do you have?"
"None with as much access as you. Why did you dismember Gibbon?"
He was silent for several seconds. "I wanted to see if I could get his Dark Mark off. I tried to find a way to do it before my mother died. Since I was killing him anyway, I decided to try again. It didn't work though. I can't find a way to get the fucking thing off."
Hermione stared at him doubtfully for several seconds. Whole truth? Half truth? She wasn't sure.
"Why kiss me?" he abruptly asked. "What was the point-in all this?"
Hermione's eyes dropped for a moment; when she looked up, he was still studying her.
"I didn't know-that you were supposed to die from your runes. Apparently it was obvious, but I didn't realise it."
Draco laughed. It was dead-sounding.
"They didn't expect me to succeed in healing you. Once it became clear that you weren't dying, and you were continuing to climb rank and appeared to be trying to remove your Dark Mark, the Order concluded that you were trying to position yourself to overthrow your master. That you had been aiding the Order simply to play both sides against each other because you want to be the next Dark Lord."
He gave another quiet, dead-sounding laugh. "Did you think so too?"
"No, I didn't. But because I healed you, I am regarded as compromised. I-I'm-no longer-I'm not-my opinions are no longer considered reliable. I was given until the end of the month to demonstrate I could control you. I think-" Hermione gave her own bitter laugh. "I think it was just their way of letting me say goodbye."
"So that was a goodbye fuck? Payment for services rendered?" His mouth curved into a sneer.
"No. It was-" Hermione's jaw trembled, and her eyes dropped away. "I-it was-that wasn't what it was."
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his robes and she stared at him. "Why didn't you have me make an Unbreakable Vow when I offered?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "I wasn't interested in not being betrayed by you simply because I made you incapable of it. After all, I'm sure Shacklebolt and Moody have more than enough to damn me without you."
