XVI.
Draco watched as Granger became deathly still under the tightening grip of the Devil’s Snare. As she relaxed, so did the bindings. He grinned as he watched her. Intellectually she knew she couldn’t move or try to escape the bindings by force. But he loved watching the fire dance in her eyes as she struggled to hold herself back. Granger had always had the most expressive features. He loved to watch her rage boil up behind her perfect façade. It was like a gift when he could get a release from her. Those moments when her composure slipped left lasting imprints on his nearly perfect memory.
“One of my favorite memories of you was from third year,” he said as he brushed a curl from her eyes. “Outside Hagrid’s. You punched me right in the nose. That was the first time you broke it.”
“You deserved it.”
He laughed to himself.
“You’re right, I did.”
She glared at him.
“I’d do something even worse now,” she said.
“Like that little spell, you’ve been casting?”
Her mouth formed a hard line. Her Occluding returned.
“I found no potions on you except for a few healing and pepper-up ones. So it can’t be a potion you’ve been giving them. Which means it has to be a spell. But the ministry has your broken wand. And I didn’t find one on you.”
Her expression remained unchanged.
“So,” he continued. “That must mean that you’re wearing your magic.”
His eyes moved to the watch beside her on the small table.
“No,” he said. “I think that’s how you escape. Apparate? Maybe Portkey? Godric, did you really rig up your own illegal Portkey?”
He aimed his wand at the watch.
“Accio Portkey.”
The watch flew into his hand, and he boomed with laughter.
“Granger, Granger, Granger,” he sighed, shaking his head.
But the smile didn’t leave his lips. Her eyes had returned to their standard green color, and she glared at him with a new intensity.
“You really are the cleverest witch of our age—an untraceable Portkey. Apparition is too regulated. So is Floo. Godric, this must have taken you months to rig up.”
“Three weeks.”
He rolled his head back in a delighted laugh as she confirmed his suspicions. Of course, it’d only taken her a few weeks to create this kind of complex magical transportation device.
“Well,” he said. “If it isn’t the watch, then it must be…”
His fingers reached toward her neck. Her eyes ignited in fear as she jolted back into the chair. The Devil’s Snare sprang to life and kept her head still as Draco’s fingers slid along her jawline. Her eyes were murderous as he let his fingers skim over her skin to the base of her skull. He felt her hair rise as his fingers moved down her neck to where the necklace was clasped. He pinched the opening and watched as the necklace released onto her chest. He delicately plucked it up into his hands. He leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. His face was so close to hers that he could feel her breath on his cheek.
“And here I expected to find a lioness,” he mused as he inspected the serpentine choker.
He waved his wand over the golden choker, and the spell began to reveal the inner workings of the necklace. There, in the center, was dragon heartstring. She’d been able to dismantle the inner properties of her wand and place them in a bit of jewelry. The magic and craftmanship were something he’d never seen before.
“Accio glasses,” he mumbled, and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses fit over his face.
After years of Legilimency and being the pin cushion for Cruciatus curses, his eyesight had taken the brunt of the hit. He needed glasses to avoid the horrific migraines.
He turned the necklace over in his hands as if it were made of glass. He knew she was performing wandless magic but never imagined that it would be something as remarkable as this.
“I’d empty my Gringotts vault to watch your mind work while you crafted something like this,” he said.
He placed the necklace delicately on the bed with the other items.
“But the serpent is what’s got me. Are you being ironic? Killing Death Eaters? Wearing a serpent?”
She didn’t respond.
“No, that’s too on the nose for you.”
His hand ran over the stubble that was beginning to poke through on his chin.
“Is it the muggle representation? Something about a snake in the garden and a naked bloke?”
Her face was less angry but didn’t reveal that he was in the right direction.
“My heart wants to believe it’s because you secretly wished you were a Slytherin this whole time.”
This elicited an eye roll which delighted Draco. He’d missed those. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest while he studied her.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You always were a lioness. Protective. Territorial. Terrifyingly lethal.”
She almost smiled.
“It’s familiar, though,” he said, looking back down at the choker.
He looked back up at Granger to see that she was Occluding again. He was close.
“Because it’s not yours.”
Her eyes glazed over with heavy Occluding.
“It belongs to my family?”
Her left hand twitched.
“Come on, Granger. One little truth. That’s all I’m asking for.”
He let his fingers trace her cheek, pulling her out of her Occlumency and into the present. He brought his mouth right next to her ear.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed hard. She was protecting someone. Of course.
“Did my dear friend, Pansy, make this for you?”
Granger’s protective mask fell, and her eyes flashed with horror.