Lust, War, and... Love?

Chapter 17: Vexations

     Ron was getting more and more nervous as the day of the Quidditch game approached fast. Hermione did her best to spend more time with him and to give him encouragement.

"You're a really good player. You should be able to adjust to the new Chaser right away," she said for the thousandth time when Ron started complaining that Harry still couldn't find someone to fill in for Katie Bell. Ginny doled out a couple of caustic remarks to her brother for missing half of her serves during the last practice. Hermione ended up having a spat with Ginny, and they barely talked for the next two days.

Ron was staring at an issue of the Daily Prophet which someone had left on a chair in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione peeked in and realised that his eyes were fixed on an article on the recent defeat of Chudley Cannons.

"You shouldn't read stuff like this, if it depresses you." Hermione gently pulled the newspaper out of Ron's hand. He sighed and let it go.

"What's Harry thinking?" Ron carried on. "If he brings a new Chaser in at the last minute, do we ever stand a chance of winning?"

"I'm sure he'd find a good substitute," Hermione tried to reassure him.

"If it was Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, we could hope for something," Ron pined. "But it's Gryffindor against Slytherin! Bloody Malfoy is as good a Seeker as Harry!"

"I don't think Malfoy's going to be in a good shape for the game," said Hermione.

"How'd you know?" groaned Ron.

"I've overheard Urquhart, their Captain, yelling at Malfoy for missing practice several times in a row." In fact, Malfoy had also mentioned his lack of interest in Quidditch to Hermione, but she, of course, couldn't reveal this small detail to Ron. "I'm pretty sure Harry would take the Snitch in no time."

"You mean, the game would end before I make a complete fool of myself?"

"No, I didn't mean it. I only wanted to say that you, Harry and everyone make up a really good team. If Malfoy isn't in his best shape, the Slytherins won't stand a chance," said Hermione, already on a verge of exasperation. "You only need to practice as much as you can, and no Quaffle would ever be able to get past you!"

Ron heaved a sigh and, without looking, reached for the Prophet again, which Hermione promptly moved out of his grasp.

"I've got croissants - do you want some?" she asked in an attempt to distract Ron. "Raspberry or apple filling?"

"Raspberry, thanks," Ron cheered up a little. "You're great, Hermione."

These words made Hermione want to give Ron a hug while he devoured the croissant, but, to her chagrin, her enchanted parchment went off again. She hastily retired to the dorm, hid behind the curtains of her bed and read the fourth missive Malfoy sent her since the morning.

HG,

Do you think 'mal' in our assignment means 'action'?
The verse doesn't make sense!

DM

Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco could consult his three heavy volumes of the Old Runic Dictionary just fine, but for some reason he was determined to bug her all day today. She shot off her reply:

DM,

'mal' means 'covenanted pay' in the context. You've got a dictionary ten times bigger than mine!

HG

Malfoy was getting much more bothersome lately. He sent her a note during the lunch, and she had to leave Ron and run outside to see what it was about. Of course, he was asking an insipid question on the Charms homework which was not due for a week. Hermione already regretted that Snape had effectively persuaded Pansy to lay off her fiancé. The dates with Malfoy were becoming a problem too. Before, she almost managed to reduce it to a machinelike sex, but after the incident in Hogsmeade, Malfoy's attitude changed drastically. Hermione had to admit that he developed into an ardent lover, and it made much harder for her to act dispassionate with him.

After dinner Harry and Ron left for their Quidditch practice, and Dean Thomas, whom Harry had recruited as a Chaser the same day, followed them to the pitch. Hermione set off for Dumbledore's office. When the gargoyle opened the passage for her, she sprinted up the stairs. She had so much to tell the Headmaster...

Dumbledore studied the copy of the receipt from Borgin & Burkes thoughtfully. "This could make Mr. Malfoy a suspect in the case, I see." He lifted his eyes at Hermione.

"Zabini bragged to Parvati that he and Malfoy deceived McGonagall on that Saturday with the help of the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione continued her report. "He said Malfoy needed something at Scrivenshaft's. He lied, of course. I'm sure he knew Malfoy was going to the Three Broomsticks!"

"I doubt Mr. Zabini would try to woo Miss Patil by telling about the imposture if he truly knew Mr. Malfoy's plans," Dumbledore said smilingly. His expression stopped Hermione in her tracks. "Are you certain that the person who you encountered in the pub and who looked like Zabini was not him?"

"No, definitely not him. He looked so odd, Professor."

"Mr. Zabini's looks but Mr. Malfoy's manner of speech?"

"That's right, Sir." Hermione paused. "It - it seems it was Malfoy who Imperiused Katie Bell."

"I am inclined to doubt it." The Headmaster strolled around the room.

"Why, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Imperius is a very difficult spell to cast, Hermione. Especially in a clandestine fashion in a crowded pub." Dumbledore stood in front of her chair, his hands crossed behind his back. "The Unforgivable Curses, the darkest magic as we know, are also the hardest to perform. A reasonably bright sixth-year student might be able to cast them on a spider but not on a human."

"Oh..." Hermione mumbled. "Someone helped Malfoy? That person was in the pub too, right?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said calmly. "Otherwise Mr. Malfoy would not be trying so hard to prevent you from going to Hogsmeade, Hermione. In fact, he blew his cover thanks to his affections for you."

Hermione blushed. She glanced at the Headmaster and found him studying one of magical silver objects on the side table.

"So... What's then?" she asked, and her heart lurched fearfully at the thought of him being whisked away to Azkaban. She wished she paid more attention to Polyjuiced Malfoy and anyone he mingled with at the pub.

"Nothing." Dumbledore rearranged a couple of the objects on the table. Hermione's eyes stumbled upon his shrivelled hand. "What you have told about Mr. Malfoy sounds very hopeful."

"If this attempt failed, they, and Malfoy too, will try to do it again!" Hermione exclaimed, perturbed by the Headmaster's nonchalant tone.

"Certainly, they will." Dumbledore smiled. "It was very astute of you to conclude so, Hermione."

"But it must be prevented before someone gets killed, Professor!"

"I believe it is not of such a great importance for the target of their efforts. You should not worry, Hermione. It is evident that Mr. Malfoy protects you as much as he can."

"It isn't about me, Sir," Hermione jumped to her feet. "If that person is to be murdered anyway, then we must make every effort to save him!"

"There is one little problem with it," Dumbledore looked at Hermione steadily. "Although the Death Eaters are not aware of it, the outcome is very much obvious. We need to think about others. For instance, Draco Malfoy."

"I am sorry, Professor, but it's so hard for me to understand it. Why should Malfoy get away with that crime?" Hermione sat down in her chair again. "Only because you believe I need him for my protection? It's only temporary!"

"You should never underestimate the forces that a single act of magic can unleash, Hermione." Dumbledore looked at her steadily, and she shifted in her chair with unease. "The power of sex that brings out the darkness and light in our souls."

Silently, Hermione watched Dumbledore return to his seat behind the desk. A phrase floated into her mind that she came across somewhere in a book on love magic. The dark power of sex, and blessed is the one whose life it fills with light.

"I am very impressed by the information you were able to uncover," Dumbledore said warmly. "Thank you, Hermione, and I hope we will have more chance to talk."

"Thank you too, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said as brightly as she could. Never in her life had she been so unsettled.

Draco came out of the Room of Requirement. He was able to start mending the Cabinet step by step after finding the right combination of repairing spells. The process was annoyingly slow, but it was an improvement nevertheless.

"Why did you drop your bottle?" he asked the small girl in Ravenclaw robes.

"Weasel yelled at me, when he and Potter passed by," mumbled Crabbe in the disguise of the little girl.

"Did he suspect anything? What did he say?" Draco asked warily.

"No, they just walked past. Weasel looked angry..."

"What was he angry about?"

"I dunno... He asked Potter if Granger snogged Krum."

"Uh-uh... Was Granger with them?" Draco grew a little curious.

"No, Granger walked to the portrait hole before they appeared." Crabbe fiddled with his bottle.

Draco glanced around. Could it be the opportunity he'd been looking for? The corridor already was empty. The lights had been dimmed. McGonagall apparently was not in her office. His heart pounded wildly. Now or never.

Imperio! The gaze of the little girl in front of Draco went vacant. He drew a deep breath. Thanks Merlin, his spell worked! He waved his wand and the Ravenclaw colours on her robes changed to Gryffindor red and gold.

"You'll go now to the Gryffindor Tower and tell Granger that Nott wants to talk to her about the patrols. You'll say that he's waiting for her outside the portrait hole," Draco whispered hastily and threw a glance around again. "The password is 'Dilligrout'. In five minutes after Granger comes out you tell Ron Weasley that Nott wants to talk to him too. Then you leave the Tower and wait for me on the sixth floor."

Crabbe scampered off to the Gryffindor Tower. Draco quickly conjured a hooded cloak out of his bag. He pulled the hood down on his face and hid in the shadow by the pillar closest to the Fat Lady.

Soon, Hermione came out, looking puzzled. She drew even with Draco, not noticing him at first.

Muffliato! He caught her by hand, yanked her into the shadow and pressed his mouth against hers before she had time to say anything. Hermione struggled out of his embrace, and he pulled her head closer, his hood obscuring his face from anyone who might be passing by. A hairpin tumbled out of the bun on the back of her head, and her hair fell down her shoulders. Draco dug his fingers into her locks. She shifted again and surrendered to him, her wide open eyes staring into his. Hot blood dashed through Draco's veins as his eager tongue parted her soft, warm lips.

Draco heard the portrait swinging open. He stepped to the side, still holding Granger in his arms tightly, so whoever was over there could get a better view of her back. A few steps resounded in the corridor. Draco's fingers gripped Hermione's head harder, and he felt her torso stiffen against his abdomen. The steps halted abruptly and quickly retreated to the Tower entrance. The Fat Lady muttered something angrily, and the portrait slammed shut.

He did it! Draco broke the kiss off, and she jerked out of his embrace.

"You're insane, Malfoy!" Hermione nearly screeched at him. "What if someone saw us here? Why did you need to do this?"

"I walked past the Room of Requirement and thought of you," he drawled teasingly.

"Who's that girl you sent to the Common Room?" Hermione couldn't quite place her or remember her name. Besides, the girl looked very strange. "What did you do to her?"

"Someone from Gryffindor, I guess. Asked her to go in and have you step outside."

"But her looks, the way she spoke...Wait!" Hermione grabbed his arm. "Did you Imperiuse her?"

"No, I didn't." Draco leaned against the pillar, his hood still low on his forehead. He heard approaching steps and quickly slid back into the shadows.

Hermione fell silent. Parvati and Lavender passed by, chatting animatedly and apparently not noticing her and Draco. Then the portrait door closed behind the girls with an audible 'thud'.

"Yes, you Imperiused her!" Hermione advanced at him.

"So what? I'll reverse the spell in five minutes. No harm's done."

"It's an Unforgivable!" Hermione was on the verge of yelling at him. Draco stroked her shoulder. "Please don't touch me, Malfoy!" She turned on her heels and darted towards the Fat Lady.

After she disappeared in the portrait hole Draco lowered his eyes. A tortoise-coloured barrette lay on the floor. He picked it up and remembered the sweet vanilla-like scent of her hair. Draco smiled to himself and set off for the stairs down.

When Hermione entered the Gryffindor Common Room, her mind was battling the bonfire that Malfoy's kiss had set off in her body. The moment she sat down beside Harry and Ron, the latter got up abruptly, gathered his books and pushed his chair away.

"Do you want me to look at your essay, Ron?" Hermione asked, trying not to think about the feel of Malfoy's fingers in her hair.

Instead of a response, Ron turned his back on her and left for the boys' dormitories. Harry lifted his head and looked at Hermione sheepishly.

"Ahem... I'd better go to my dorm too," she muttered and suddenly realised that her hair weren't held together by the barrette anymore. Harry said nothing.