Deliverance
Draco Malfoy strode through headquarters, face blank, shoulders stiff. An occasional nod to those he was on fairly decent terms with.
He wore nonchalant arrogance like a mask. A practiced air of indifference like a cloak. This was the person the majority of the Order saw him as. This was the barely reformed Malfoy they respected but could barely trust.
He looked down his nose at them.
As if there hadn’t been a vote to imprison him for treason. As if the people he walked by weren’t trying to eviscerate him with their eyes.
—--------------
“Alastor.”
“Malfoy.”
The men looked at each other. Draco knew his habit of calling Moody by his first name never ceased to irritate the former auror. Which was why Draco felt the need to do it on a regular basis.
“Where’s Lupin?” Moody asked the question with his usual grunting air. The lack of light in his office no doubt meant to put any visitor on guard. The better to showcase the brightness of that magical eyeball of his.
“Talking to Molly Weasley.”
Moody grunted again. He took a seat but did not extend an invitation for Draco to sit as well.
Draco sat.
“Well, how’d things go?”
Draco gave an account of the mission. Masked his impatience.
“Something happened while you were away,” Moody finally began, eyeing Draco for a reaction. When Draco did not speak, he continued.
“We did a raid of Rosier’s in France. We discovered something about Hermione Granger.”
Draco’s heard gave a painful leap but he merely cocked his head to the side in faux curiosity.
“Did you know she’s a pureblood Malfoy?”
Draco’s scoff and sneering, “Impossible,” were believable.
Moody nodded, as if Draco passed his test. It was too easy. This more than anything, made Draco’s pulse race.
“We need you to interrogate her. Flitwick tried his best but you’re better. Find out what you can.”
His tone was final, dismissive. He stood and gestured for Draco to follow him.
Before opening the door to the basement, Moody looked at him with a firm stare, “Any means necessary, Malfoy.”
Draco felt a pull on his magic. He looked at Moody and nodded.
—------------
Hermione waited in the interrogation room. She’d been there for an hour at least, waiting for Moody to make an appearance.
Today’s guard had told her so with barely suppressed glee.
It was cold, but she’d grown used to that. She was in pain, but that was hardly new too.
She cast her eyes to the table in front of her. Closed them to focus on the plastic chair she sat on. It was the same routine every day. Moody would make a passive effort to interrogate her. Her answers were unsatisfactory. He’d resort to stinging hexes then move his way up to increasingly dark spells.
She was bored of it, quite frankly. She needed a bath and a cup of tea. A new plan to stop the war and possibly form a new resistance. She could do without it, given her current lack of allies. But she could make do.
She had to make do. She’d played by their rules long enough.
The blue scars on her skin had grown and stretched, resembling delicate leaves and flowers. Something about this gave her courage. If it was misplaced, she was determined not to think about it.
She’d figured out last night that the wards were sorely lacking. They were the same ones she’d set years ago with very few adjustments. The additional wards were gleaned from the bragging of the guards.
Every time one of them would taunt about the things the prisoners could not do, what would happen to them if they tried, Hermione learned something.
All that time spent the past few years, sequestered with nothing but a handful of books and conversations with Draco Malfoy on warding and healing and the stretches of magic? It wouldn’t go to waste after all.
—-------
Hermione snorted when she saw him. “Hello Malfoy, how was your trip?”
“Not bad, Granger. I’ve heard things are different now.”
Moody watched them carefully. Draco knew he should be gruffer, had practiced the demeanor that could sell his act but looking at Hermione, feeling the slow pull of his magic. He couldn’t.
He looked her over surreptitiously. She had wounds that needed healing but they weren’t as bad as he feared. With every pull, her wounds healed minutely. He doubted she knew she was doing it.
If he’d known he had this power. . .
Focus, Draco.
He crouched in front of her, raised his wand. Pretended to begin a spell “Legili - “
Then he turned to Moody and attempted to stun him.
It wasn’t too surprising that Moody blocked his spell. Moody didn’t get where he was without being suspicious after all.
What was surprising was Granger pushing the table in front of her in Moody’s direction, throwing him off balance for a fraction of a second. Turning to Draco and saying, “Stun him.”
Draco obeyed immediately.
What was even more surprising was, a moment later, he could feel the wards falling. And Hermione grinned at him.