Chapter 14
The evening could not come faster for Hermione as she anticipated the impending meet.
She’d found Altaire studying by herself in the library during lunch and relayed the message of Harry’s agreement to hear her out.
The witch barely reacted, not bothering to look up from her textbook that she was annotating directly in, to Hermione’s horror.
“9 PM in the greenhouse,” was her short response.
“You shouldn’t write in the books. They’re school property!” Hermione couldn’t help but chide.
“It’s mine.” Altaire responded with a small smirk.
Hermione scoffed. Of course she had her own copy of a textbook worth a hundred galleons.
Malfoys.
Undeterred by her apparent disinterest, Hermione skipped away, a nervous excitement building inside of her at the progressing events of the day.
The remainder of her classes swept by quickly. She barely even registered Parkinson’s snide remarks about muggle-borns’ innate stupidity when she made a mistake during Potions, causing her cauldron to erupt into a dark bubbling mess, emitting a disgusting stench of rotting eggs that made the other students flee from the class. She didn’t even pay attention as Snape took twenty points from Gryffindor for her inadequacy and no care for the simplest instructions. She hadn’t even noticed Malfoy’s absence from the class.
Finally, having inhaled her dinner, Hermione was making her way down an empty corridor, trying to find an empty classroom to carry out the illicit activity of practicing some defense spells she’d learned in the last DA meeting, when a hand reached out from behind her and grabbed her, shoving her roughly into a broom closet she’d been passing.
“What-“ she managed to gasp as the door slammed shut on her arm, the darkness enveloping her.
A low voice muttered a spell, the singular bulb above her flickering to life in response.
She blinked, taking in tall figure towering over her, her mind a daze.
“Malfoy!” she exclaimed in surprise. “What are you-“
"Stay away from my sister!" Malfoy hissed threateningly, his wand poking her abdomen sharply.
Hermione did not flinch, pushing back against him in the cramped closet as she levelled his glare defiantly.
"Afraid that I'll dirty her with my inferior blood, Malfoy?" she sneered, but Malfoy merely scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"You’ve got to let that go. And to answer your question Granger, no, your inferior blood status is the least of my concerns when it comes to the reasons why I don't trust you. Some of us don't have the freedom to go running around the castle like a headless ghost, with no regard for authority, believing that the rules don't apply to us." He sneered back. "Some of us have reputations to uphold, and things to protect."
Hot fury rose within her, as she spat back at him. "You can't control what your sister does. She has the freedom to make her own choices, whether you like it or not. And for the record? I didn't lure her anywhere. She came to me! It seems the Malfoy family bigotry indoctrination program didn't quite reach the youngest child."
Malfoy's face hardened as he withdrew his wand, only to shove it back against her chin, causing her to yelp in surprise. "You Gryffindors are all the same. You'll put everything on the line just to prove a point with no consideration for the lives you ruin. Do you seriously think it's only Dumbledore who has eyes inside this castle? You have no idea the risk you're putting her in just by associating with her, and I won't just stand by and watch while you get her killed. I'm warning you for the final time Granger. Stay away from my sister or prepare to watch me burn your whole world down."
Hermione steadied herself, trying not to let instinct take over and look away, as he glowered at her, only inches from her face. She took a deep breath, swatting at his wand in annoyance.
“It’s funny. Altaire said the same thing you know. She said that you’re all just trying to protect what you love. That doesn’t sound like people who are trying to burn the world down. That sounds like people who want to save it.”
Malfoy chuckled coldly, his wand pressing harder against her throat, his other hand gripping her shoulder with an iron grip. “This is why it’s hopeless for you Gryffindors. Your bleeding hearts and painful naivety… I’ll be very clear. I don’t want to save the world. I don’t care if everyone else in this whole entire population is wiped out, as long as my family are left standing. You say you’d die for Potter, but would you kill for him? Would you tarnish your soul and darken yourself, just so that you could save your friends? Because I would. I’d kill to protect what matters most to me, my soul be damned. I want you to remember clearly what I say to you tonight. I’m prepared to shred my soul to tatters and have dark magic poison me from the inside out if it means that my sister is safe. What are you prepared to sacrifice Granger? Do you think you could really do whatever is necessary?”
Hermione gulped despite herself, recalling Altaire’s words.
“he’ll douse himself in Fiendfyre and let the flames burn out his soul before he lets you come in harm’s way.”
She wasn’t kidding.
“We don’t have to darken ourselves, to rid ourselves of what’s dark.” Hermione responded, her voice firm, unlike her heart, which was beating against her chest like the heavy footsteps of a troll.
“Then you’re as naïve as I thought you were.” Malfoy scoffed. “Do you seriously think I’m going to stand by and let my sister be dragged into your mess, when you’re not even prepared to do the bare minimum?”
Hermione glared defiantly at him, deftly curling her right hand up her sleeve, discreetly pulling at her own wand. When she managed to get her fingers around the thin wood, she drew her wand at the speed of light, casting a quick disarming spell that sent Malfoy’s wand flying into the storage cabinet behind her, cutting the skin of her neck as it did so.
The spell was powerful, causing Malfoy to stumble back and his body to collide with a bundle of brooms behind him.
He cursed softly as he steadied himself, brushing the broom bristles off him lazily. Then suddenly, he lunged forward, grabbing her wrists. The sudden movement made her balk in alarm, causing her wand to clatter to the floor as she backed away into the storage cabinet, the tight space leaving her with nowhere to run. He loomed over her much smaller frame, sneering at her as he reached forward. She flinched, anticipating a heavy contact, but the blow never came. Instead, she gasped as the coldness of his fingers grazed her neck, a stinging sensation passing over her as he pressed against her cut.
“You disarmed me, but you’re the only one who’s bleeding,” he smirked. “Does your little trio really think you can best the Dark Lord without resorting to any Dark Magic? One Expelliarmus at a time?” Removing his hand from her neck, he showed her the red stain on his thumb. He gazed at the blood, before slowly raising his thumb to his lips and sucking lightly on the skin.
Hermione swallowed, staring at him confused as his silver eyes flickered up to meet hers.
“Blood is blood,” he remarked simply. “Believe me now?”
Hermione’s expression soured, roughly patting at the blood on her neck with the sleeve of her jumper.
“I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Malfoy.” She replied snarkily. “And to answer your question, yes, I do believe we can beat Voldemort without having to resort to Dark Magic. What’s the point of getting rid of dark wizards if we ourselves become dark in the process?”
Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes. “And how do you intend on doing that?”
Hermione squared her shoulders, shooting him a sly smirk of her own. “I don’t know yet. But it sure seems like your sister has some ideas.”
The blonde wizard paled visibly, the pallor of his cheeks clashing against the vibrant blue veins underneath.
“No.” he whispered; his breath shaky. “No, you leave her out of this.”
Hermione steadied her breath, staring defiantly back at the panicked boy. “She’s already in. She’s meeting with Harry, and she’s prepared to tell us everything. You can’t stop her; she’s already too involved to back out now.” Hermione lied, maintaining a steady gaze so as not to give herself away. “She told us about the diary. The real story. The Order knows a Malfoy is willing to turn. She’s chosen her side Malfoy. It’s time for you to choose yours.”
Altaire had truly told her next to nothing, and it wasn’t like she was going to go around advertising Altaire’s proposition to the whole school, or even the Order. But in the moment, seeing Malfoy’s vulnerability, it seemed like a good idea to corner him into thinking his sister was already in too deep to just threaten his way out of the situation.
Altaire had all but said so herself.
“Once he finds out I’m officially in with Potter, he’ll have no choice.”
Malfoy stilled; his expression stony. The silence in the tiny broom closet was stifling. They stared at one another, barely breathing, each daring the other to crack first.
Finally, Malfoy spoke.
“Let me do it instead.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. This was… unexpected. She hadn’t expected Malfoy to crack so quickly. “That’s not how this works. Altaire is the one who wants in with the Order, not you. She’s the one who came to me willingly. I’m not going to turn away because her brother doesn’t approve.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Malfoy responded; his voice was hoarse, heavy with emotion. “I know I can’t stop her. I’m saying I’ll take her place… with the Order. Tell them it’s the Malfoy son that you’re dealing with. Tell them… tell them it’s me that is acting as your spy. Whatever she’s offering to Potter… tell the Order it’s me who’s feeding you the information. Keep her name out of it. Please, Granger. Please. That’s all I ask. Please.”
The wizard standing in front of her had lost all his bravado. He was gazing at her pleadingly, intensity vibrating off his voice as he grabbed her hand, squeezing down hard.
“You’re saying you’ll spy for the Order?” Hermione asked incredulously. “Just like that?”
Malfoy stepped closer, closing the gap. He was breathing harshly, his grip like iron on her hand.
“Just like that, Granger. Whatever my sister is doing, keep it between you and Potter. Whatever you report back to your precious Order however… just make sure it’s my name on it, not hers.”
“You were threatening me just a moment ago.” Hermione said softly. “How do I know you’re being sincere?”
Malfoy’s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “If Altaire’s really told you everything about the diary, you shouldn’t really be acting so surprised,” he said simply.
Hermione swallowed. She had no idea what he was talking about, but it was too dangerous to give that away now. She was so close… she had to seal the deal.
“I wanted to hear it from you.” She responded as calmly as she could muster herself to, returning his sceptical gaze with scowl.
Malfoy laughed coldly as he leered at her. “I don’t answer to you,” he sneered, “And I won’t answer to Potter either. This deal we have? It’s not a free pass for either of you to order me around like a lap dog. This is an exchange. Information for Altaire’s protection. The moment my sister becomes compromised by your little hero antics, I’ll turn you and the Order over to the Dark Lord myself, whatever may become of me.”
“Fine.” Hermione replied coolly, trying not to appear affected by the intensity of his threats. “The Order is occupied with other matters at the moment anyways. All they know is that we’ve spoken to a Malfoy. Only Harry and I are cognizant of Altaire’s involvement. We can keep it that way, as long as you hold up your end of the deal.”
“And what is my end of the deal exactly?” he glowered.
“That you won’t get in our way. That you won’t rat us out to Umbridge or purposefully act against us, now or in the future.”
“That’s simple enough.” Malfoy acquiesced, loosening his grip on her hand. “But I need more than just your word. I want an Unbreakable Vow.”
Hermione gulped, anxiety rebuilding in her stomach. This was a big ask… an Unbreakable Vow was absolute, binding until death.
“If you won’t make the Vow, you don’t have a deal. I’ll get my parents to pull Altaire from school tonight and have her whisked off to some foreign country under the Fidelius Charm. You’ll never hear from her again. You’ve got me cornered here because I don’t want to have to force my sister into a life she never wanted to lead. But if you leave me with no other choice, I’ll do it. I can live with Altaire hating me forever, if it means she’ll be safe,” he hissed.
“I’ll talk to Harry.” She responded weakly, blood pulsing in her eardrums. “But… we’d need a third person to do the spell. I don’t know anyone who can.”
“I know someone.” Malfoy said curtly. “You’re meeting my sister this evening.” It was a statement, not a question.
Hermione wondered whether he’d overheard their earlier conversation or if Altaire had told him herself.
“I’ll be accompanying her to your meet.” He continued, ignoring Hermione’s confused expression. “As will the binder. We make the Vow first, before we discuss anything else.”
Hermione nodded shortly, her heart secretly filling with relief.
This was good. If he made the Vow first… well he couldn’t just back out once he realised she’d lied to him.
“I’ll talk to Harry,” she repeated, bending down to pick up her wand.
Malfoy reached over her to grab his own wand, their bodies brushing against each other as he moved. He felt hard, like bumping into a concrete slab. There was no softness to him, only sharp edges and cold surfaces.
She brushed herself off awkwardly, feeling a sudden urge to rush out of the broom closet. She pushed against the door, the cold air of the hallway rushing harshly into her airways as she took a deep breath.
“One more thing, Granger.”
Hermione turned, quizzical.
Before she could react, Malfoy drew his wand, casting a spell near her face that made her skin immediately warm up, hot blood tingling as it rushed to her neck.
She slapped a hand against her throat in alarm, staring at Malfoy in confusion.
“I healed your cut, Granger.” He drawled, rolling his eyes at her theatrics. “Wouldn’t want people asking questions.”
With that, he pushed past her, causing her to stumble slightly against the ajar door as she stared after him, lost for words.