Hermione nodded. She hated the thought of him in her head again, but his reasoning was sound. It would be an invaluable skill.
Malfoy reached into his pocket and tossed something toward her. She caught it reflexively.
She stared into her palm. It was — well, it looked like a wedding band, if wedding bands came in black.
She looked up at Malfoy in astonishment.
“Your protean charm from fifth year inspired me.” He smirked, and raised his right hand indicating a matching onyx band on it. “It'll burn briefly if I need to meet. Twice if it's urgent. I'd highly advise coming quickly if it burns twice. If you want to reach out, the wards here will let me know when you arrive. But otherwise we should stick to a schedule. Is there a time you can get away without drawing suspicion?”
Hermione slid the ring onto the pointer finger of her left hand. It was a simple, slightly geometric band. Not flashy or likely to draw attention. She suspected there was a heavy notice-me-not charm on it.
“I go out for potion ingredients early on Tuesday mornings. I could add an extra half hour without anyone paying attention. Would seven-thirty work?”
He nodded.
“If I can't come for some reason, come back again at the same time in the evening,” he told her.
“What if I can't come?” Hermione asked.
His eyes narrowed.
He was trying to determine what it was she did for the Order. Well, she wasn't interested in volunteering the information.
“I'll wait five minutes and assume you can't make it.”
“Fine,” she agreed flatly.
He smirked, and with a flick of his wand conjured a scroll of parchment which he held out to her.
“My first installment,” he drawled, leering at her again.
She took it from him and unrolled it partially, glancing at several maps and building blueprints.
“I'm trusting that Moody has the sense not to use everything at once,” he said.
“Your service will be one of the Order's most carefully protected secrets. You're useless once your cover's blown. We won't risk it.”
“Good,” he said with a cold voice. “I'll see you Tuesday then. Practice your occlumency.”
He vanished with a crack.
Chapter End Notes
Additional Illustrations:
Waiting at the shack by artemisia_flora.
Beautiful and damned by driareel.
Flashback 4
April 2002
The next time she arrived at the shack, she had barely gotten through the door before Malfoy abruptly apparated in, nearly on top of her.
He grabbed her firmly, and backed her up against a wall as his lips crashed into hers.
Hermione barely had time to think or react. Her eyes widened in astonishment and as they did, his eyes met hers and he abruptly invaded her mind.
She had been so startled, her occlumency walls had fallen. The terrifying distraction of his body pressed against hers while he kissed her made it difficult to focus solely on the sensation of his mind tearing its way through her consciousness.
He skimmed through her recent memories; brewing an invisibility potion for the ring he'd given her, taking Lee Jordan and dropping him at St Mungo's. He found her memory of their previous meeting.
She could feel him experiencing it, even while she was also keenly aware of his lips moving away from hers and kissing along her jaw, while his hands slid along her body.
He started moving toward the memory of her conversation with Snape. No. She didn't want him to see that one. Even though she was confident he would know what she was trying to do, she didn't want him to have confirmation of it.
She forced herself not to pull the memory away or hide it. Instead she grabbed onto the first thing she could think of and jerked it forcefully back further into her memories. Malfoy had to have known it was a feint, but he gamely chased after it. After keeping it away from him for a few seconds, she let him catch it.
Third year Malfoy stood in front of her, sneering.
“Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?” said Malfoy. “And he's supposed to be our teacher!”
Harry and Ron moved angrily toward him, but Hermione was the quickest — SMACK!
She slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Her hand felt aflame from the force, and his pale skin immediately bloomed scarlet where she struck him. He staggered, looking at her with a mixture of pain and astonishment.
“Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil—” she roared.
Malfoy abruptly jerked out of her mind and stepped away, shaking.
Hermione stared at him, expecting him to be enraged that she'd tricked him with that memory. Then she realized after a moment that he was laughing.
That felt more terrifying.
“Well done,” he said, still chuckling after a minute. “I expected it would take you longer before you'd be able to do it.”
Hermione was slumped against the wall, trying to recover herself from his combined mental and physical assault. A migraine was already steadily beginning to creep up on her.
“Is this the way you usually teach occlumency?” she said after a moment.
His lips quirked faintly.
“Only with you,” he said with a thin smile. “I can't have you doubting my sincerity, now can I? I needed to do something to catch you off guard. So—“ he shrugged. “Two gnomes, one kneazle. I'm sure you didn't expect me to keep my hands entirely to myself.”
Hermione fought back the urge to sneer at him.
“Should I wear stockings the next time I come?” she asked, her voice caustic.
His eyes seemed to darken.
“Hmm. No. I rather like you like this. Being dirty and bedraggled in muggle clothing suits you. And I intend to savour you. You needn't start wearing them — yet.”
Hermione felt a shiver go through her; of fear, but also from the tension between them, a strain of animosity and calculation filled the air.
He stepped closer to her and caught hold of her left hand, lifting it as he slid his thumb across the ring that reappeared on her hand when he stared down at it.
“How does this work?”
“The potion is based on Magical principles similar to the Fidelius,” she said, slipping her hand free. “It's only visible if you know to look for it. Otherwise it's undetectable. Only you and I can see it.”
Malfoy quirked an approving eyebrow.
“I don't believe I've heard of that potion.”
“It's new,” she said stiffly.
“Yours?”
Hermione gave a reluctant nod. “It's not actually that useful. It only works on metals.”
“Interesting,” he murmured, stepping closer.
Every time he drew near, she felt a renewed awareness of how dangerous he was. The dark magic came off of him in waves; it clung to his clothes and his hair and almost emanated from his skin. It was as though he wore a cloak of darkness and rage that he was simply keeping in check around her.
There was so much darkness. All the deaths he was responsible for.
He was drenched in them.
“Let's try again. And see how long you can keep it up.” His lips pulled into brief smirk. “I won't kiss you — this time.”
He drove into her mind again. She kept him out with her walls for a minute while she organised her mind and memories. Then she pretended to have the shield give away.
She wasn't sure she was actually good at it, or if he was having the decency to restrict himself from rifling through all her memories. He allowed her strong attempts at distracting him to succeed. After she'd successfully done it a dozen times, he withdrew.