Jada Rene Disclaimer: All characters are property of JK Rowling, Raincoast, Warner Brothers, Scholastic. No infrigement is intended, and no money is being made.
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations Summary: Sequel to Arabian Knight Author's Notes: Yes, I watch way too much Days of our Lives. Thanks to Krys, my "Yeah, right" girl for beta-reading. You rock!
English Muffin Ron apparated back to the Burrow with Hermione on his arm. She had been staying with the Weasleys since graduation. The two of them had big plans to get a flat together and live their lives out blissfully together. And everything seemed to be exactly on that course until... Until last week. The last week had been the most miserable of Ron's life. Hermione had gone missing. Susan Bones was the last person to see her, and she felt tremendously guilty over it. She had had no useful information for the authorities whatsoever. Ron was too sick at heart to comfort her, though. He had simply sat stock still in a chair while Harry and Ginny looked at him quietly. Harry apologized that he had to go to training for his new job as an auror, but Ron didn't care. That night he went to a nearby pub and got drunker than he ever had in his life. He met Susan Bones there when he accidentally spilled his third firewhiskey on her sleeve. He looked up into her trusting face and she'd smiled at him. He had no trouble comforting her then. The next morning he had a hangover that went beyond lightning pain. It was only the beginning of the longest week of his life. For that one long, agonizing week, Ron's world had come to a screeching halt. Hermione had vanished and he thought he was going to go insane. He didn't know where she was; didn't know what had happened to her. Had she been murdered? Were aurors going to show up on his doorstep any moment now and ask him to identify her body? He couldn't eat; he couldn't sleep. Despair was the last and only friend he clung to. And then...oh, and then he had gotten an owl from her telling him to come and get her. He had thought it was a trick, but went anyway. And there she was. There she was. He breathed again. A huge weight had been lifted from him and he could breathe again. Relief was not a big enough word to describe all he felt. He threw his arms around her and swore he was never going to let her out of his sight again. And here they were. At the Burrow, Hermione being passed around for hugs by one and all. Ron grinning so hard his cheeks were smarting, but he didn't care. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did the unthinkable and looked the other way when Ron took her up to have a shower. He watched as she parted the midnight black cloak, undid the silver clasp at her neck and let the smooth fabric slide from her body. She was dressed in a green harem costume, barefoot, breasts straining against the tiny top. His jaw dropped. "Hermione," he breathed, staring at her. "Hm?" she said, running a finger through her hair. "I'm going to take a shower." "That outfit!" She looked down, suddenly remembering what she was attired in. "Oh, yes. I'll explain that in a bit." She tugged off the top and pulled down the bottoms. "You're not wearing any panties!" Ron was shocked, to say the least. Hermione immediately flushed scarlet, knowing full well what had happened to her panties. Draco Malfoy had cut them off mere moments before they had... Her blush was telling and she knew it. She fought to gain control and forced a smile onto her face. "Yes, I know." She walked into the bathroom and twisted the taps, waiting a minute while the water warmed. She caught a glimpse of Ron staring at her, knew that predatory look in his eyes. Fright crept up on her and she lunged for her toothbrush, filled her mouth with toothpaste before he could kiss her. That kiss would have been a betrayal for sure. She could still taste Draco in her mouth, that sweet and warm taste like chocolate and coffee and something else...something spicy. She didn't want to wash it out of her mouth yet; she wasn't ready to let that memory go, but she had no choice. She was with Ron and it would be sacrilege to let him kiss Draco through her. She tried to smile at him through her mouthful of toothpaste, but Ron wasn't watching her. He was gawking oddly at her back. "What's this mark?" he asked when she rinsed her mouth. Her hand flew to her neck, presuming to hide Draco's love bite. That was not what Ron had been looking at, but now her hand drew his gaze directly to it. "Is that a hickey?" Ron suddenly had a funny taste in his mouth and considered asking her to hand over the toothpaste. Hermione got into the shower without saying anything. Ron was not about to let his question go unanswered. Yanking the shower curtain back, he watched the spray fall down upon her skin, bathing her fully and soaking away the scent of lavender and jasmine that aromated from her hair. God, she was beautiful. She smiled at him then, a mysterious, watery little smile, and held out her hand to him. "It's just a bruise. I wasn't treated particularly well. But I don't want to talk about it just now." Ron pulled his jumper over his head, let his trousers drop to the floor, and stepped into the hot stream with her. He bent his head to hers and kissed her, tasting nothing but peppermint from her mouth. "I've missed you," he whispered against her neck, putting his hand under her thigh and pulling her to him. They made love against the tile with the hot water falling all around them. Hermione shut her eyes, willing everything to go back into place as it had before. He was patient and sweet as always, but now it made her want to scream. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Draco...her hands shook as she clung to Ron, trying to force out the memories bombarding her. But she could still feel his slender, aristocratic fingers on her skin, his hot tongue in her mouth, his passion rolling over them both like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from her body and oh, God... Hermione cried out from the memory of it. Ron smiled into her hair and whispered, "I love you." He left her to finish her shower in peace. Even when she'd scrubbed down every last inch of her body, Hermione still felt dirty. Afterward she looked at herself in the mirror for a long time, her mind blank while her heart began to deal a new game. She wondered if she had the courage to play it. ** It was two weeks before Ron began to realize that things were amiss with Hermione. At her request, ministry officials had come out and Ron had listened dutifully as she explained her situation. She'd been kidnapped and taken to an unplottable palace in Arabia. The ministry officials didn't believe her. She insisted that she and other women had been sold into slavery, their wills bent. The ministry officials smirked at her and exchanged glances with each other. She narrowed her eyes and told them that she wouldn't stand for such abuse. At this they laughed openly, and Ron escorted them to the door. When he returned to the living room, Hermione was sitting quietly with her hands clasped in her lap, a blank mask for a face. She didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it, but somehow the words came out and stood like a fence between them. "How did you escape?" he asked finally, drawing her eyes to his. A funny look crossed her features before she smoothed it away and answered. "I met an Englishman," she replied. "He paid so that I could be free." "Well," Ron said, thoroughly relieved to have her back in one piece. "We'll have to repay him for his kindness." "No, Ron," she said more forcefully than she'd intended. "Why not? He should at least get his money back, for rescuing you." Ron said it, fearing that it was not the truth. His mouth continued to say things he dreaded, feared. "Did he use you? Did you have to escape from him, too?" "No, Ron," she hastened to assure him. "It wasn't like that at all. Really. He didn't use me. I used him, to get out of there. And we can't repay him. The price he paid was too high." She vaguely wondered if the price she'd paid was too high. Her mouth hung open idly for a moment. Ron's tongue was like a roll of gauze as he tried to ask, "How much?" She looked at him. Silence danced around them, trying to set up residency. "Fifty thousand." "Fifty thousand?!" Ron shouted, leaping backward in shock. "You see?" Hermione said desperately. "Now stop that. Calm down. What's done is done. There's no undoing it now. It's best just to go on. Go forward. I start my new job next week. They were more kindly about my disappearance than the authorities." "Yes," Ron said, relieved at her apparent commitment. "Yes, and then we can start looking for a flat." "Yes," she repeated, suddenly entranced with a spot on the far wall. She rose from her seat and wandered up the stairs without another word to him. After a time he followed her, the floorboards creaking on the seventh step. He heard the tap running, and was surprised that she was taking another shower in the middle of the day. He frowned in confusion, striding into the bedroom and looking around. Admittedly, he had no idea what specifically he was looking for, but he was certain it was in here somewhere. She came back out, wrapped in a towel and dripping water all over the floor. "Tell me what he did to you," Ron said, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me." A naked look of fear shone in her eyes as she shook her head. "No, Ron. No! You don't want to know!" She went toward the bed and he came after her. "Tell me, Hermione. Tell me what happened. How did you get that gash on your back?" Instinctively she clutched the towel tighter around her body. "They whipped me. I told you, we were slaves there." There was a stubborn catch in her voice as she stepped away, avoiding him again. He came around and caught her wrist in his hand. She looked up; his eyes were full of love and concern. It made her feel like a traitor. She looked away, blinking at the tears forming under her lids. "Just, please...tell me," he whispered urgently, tugging her down onto the bed. "There's nothing to tell, really," she insisted, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I was abducted. They took my wand. They dressed me in that...that costume. I had to serve food and iron and wash naked women whose names I don't even know! It was awful! I was put on this table and men were bidding on me. I don't know what would've happened to me if I had had to go home with one of those awful men..." She shuddered at the thought of a surly stranger touching her flesh, kissing her neck. The towel suddenly didn't feel very protective. Ron put his arm around her. "How did you get here? How did you get back to England?" Hermione shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to conjure Draco's image. She fought to keep her voice steady. "He let me go. He paid for me and brought me here and let me go. He..." She stopped there, forbidding herself to say something she might regret; something that might give away her feelings about Draco. Ron would never understand. She wasn't sure that she understood either. She swallowed thickly and waited a moment before saying, "I need to get dressed." "Yeah," he said, shuffling to his feet. He turned back to her at the doorway, wanting to say something, but unable to find the words. The door closed with a soft click, leaving her alone to her thoughts. Only after Ron's footsteps had fallen away completely did Hermione stand up, letting the towel drop unceremoniously to the floor. She went to the wardrobe and rummaged along the top shelf, her fingers searching for its hiding place. She drew out the soft, silky midnight black cloak and wrapped it around her naked body. Droplets of moisture sank into the soft fabric, but its rich color never betrayed a thing. Hermione buried her face in the cloth and breathed in deeply. It still smelled faintly of him, of Draco, of chocolate and cinnamon and something else... Tears brimmed and splashed; the black cape hid them all, welcoming them into its folds. She cried until she was spent, and fell asleep without ever realizing she'd lain down on the bed. ** Her practical side took over the next morning. The cloak was carefully folded and set high in the wardrobe again. She dressed carefully and prepared to face her housemates. She needed to talk to someone. Who? Not Ron; he would fly off the handle if she even mentioned Draco. Not Ginny; she was Ron's sister, after all. No use introducing trouble there. Harry? Yes. It was the only thing that made sense, really. Maybe if she left Draco's name out of it, maybe Harry wouldn't be too judgmental. On the other hand, he was Ron's friend, too. She found Harry in the kitchen pouring juice. "Hello," she said to him, pasting on a smile. He returned the gesture and held up the pitcher. "Juice?" Hermione shook her head. "I wanted to talk to you for a bit. Have you got a moment?" Harry nodded and they took seats across one another at the table. The look of genuine concern on his face relaxed her enough to begin talking. "It's about while I was missing. Ron keeps asking me questions...and..." "And you don't want to answer them?" Harry guessed the obvious. Hermione nodded, chewing her lip for a moment. "The thing is, I don't think he'd understand really, what I had to do to get out of there. It was rather...extreme." "All right," Harry said guardedly. He looked slightly pale. "Ron told me what the ministry officials said. They aren't planning to look for the palace, but Ron and I have been talking, and we think we should look for it. I think that we should shut them down. I know they hurt you, Hermione, and I can't stand for them to hurt anyone else." Hermione smiled painfully at him. His sentiment was well-meant. And she wanted to punish them, too, for trying to get away with such a horrible operation. She replied slowly, "All right. But I don't have any idea how to find the palace again. It is unplottable, apparently. It seems you can only get there by invitation. My guess is some kind of portkey." Harry quietly toyed with his juice glass, took a sip, went back to fingering the pattern. "Well, we'll just have to get an invitation, then." Hermione sighed in frustration. "Well, we can't exactly owl the host and ask for one. I don't even know his name either! And no offense, Harry, but you and Ron aren't exactly at the top of the criminal world's guest list." Harry favored her with a tiny smile. "We can change that." "And they check your bank account before they even invite you. You have to have at least five thousand pounds you're willing to give away just to go there...for an honor bid, in case you...if you..." "If I what?" Harry's chin was up and he was looking into her eyes. Hermione blushed and looked away. "You just need money, that's all. That's all they care about." She bit down hard on her lip to keep her emotions in check. Harry reached across the table and took her hand. "Look, what they're doing is wrong," he said evenly. "Somebody needs to stop them. I know you want to. You're Hermione Granger, promoter of Elfish Welfare, champion of underdogs everywhere. We'll find a way." He withdrew his hand and said, "Besides, I've got money." "It isn't enough, Harry...oh, not the money," she hurried to explain, "just that we don't have connections." "You do," Harry pointed out. "I..I do?" Hermione was puzzled as to who in the criminal underworld she might be connected to. "Of course," Harry said, pausing to drain his juice. "Your English fellow. The chap who rescued you. He'll have the connections we need." Draco, Hermione thought. She swallowed visibly and sat perfectly still, unblinking in the chair. They were talking about Draco. She did not want for them to find out about Draco. She wasn't ready to deal with that, not yet. "No," she said bluntly. She'd startled Harry. He blinked at her. "What?" "No. Not him. There has to be some other way." She got to her feet, leaving a confused Harry sitting at the table. "Why not?" "Because, I don't want him involved," she said testily. "Leave him out of it." "Why on earth... Hermione, if he rescued you, he must be willing to rescue other girls," Harry pointed out. Hermione's heart squeezed painfully when she thought about Draco doing things with other girls. "No!" she said harshly, "No, stop it, Harry. Just leave it alone." "But-" "Leave it alone." The last was a whispered request, just before Hermione turned and fled up the stairs. She locked the bedroom door after herself and slumped against it. That conversation hadn't gone at all well. She hadn't gotten to discuss her feelings for Draco; she hadn't had any reassurances that it was some sort of phase that she would get over. No, the path their conversation had taken led to a very dangerous place. Ron simply couldn't find out about Draco. "I have to protect him," she said aloud. In her heart of hearts she wondered who it was she was really protecting; Ron...or Draco? ** Ron followed her up after a twenty minute lapse and knocked quietly at the door. "Hermione?" he called gently. "It's me." He waited for a moment, heard the sound of lock opening, and straightened up when she opened the door. "Hi," she said softly, leaning against the door frame. "Hi," he responded. He licked his lips, shifted his weight to his other foot, waited. She obviously wasn't going to say anything, so Ron said, "Can I come in?" They both sat on the bed together. Ron took her hand and stroked her fingers with his. They sat for a moment staring at the floorboards, not saying anything. Ron broke the silence first. "I think we should talk about what happened," he said firmly. "I think it would make you feel better to get it off your chest." "No," she said, turning sad eyes upon him. "You don't want to know." "Did you sleep with him?" he asked bluntly. Hermione opened her mouth and found herself saying, "Yes." Ron swallowed, closed his eyes, working the lump of saliva down his throat as his stomach clenched painfully within him. His fingers tightened unconsciously around hers. "All right then." He said nothing more. Hermione looked over at him; repeated his phrase back to him, "All right then? What's all right about it? Ron, I slept with another man!" "Well, they forced you into it, right?" he said, his ears reddening. "Had you under some sort of spell or something, didn't they?" "No, there was no spell...but they took my wand, they locked me in a cell," she tried patiently to explain. "But I...I knew what I was doing. I knew the only way out was to be bought or buried." Ron paled at her suggestion. "They would have killed you? Bloody fucking bastards... Hermione, you can't let them get away with this. Supposing they're doing this to other girls right this very moment! You have a responsibility-" "Don't lecture me about responsibility, Ron!" she snapped. "I know! Okay? I know they should be punished, and so help me, I want to punish them." "Then tell me the name," Ron coaxed. "Tell me who he is so that we can track them down, and make it right." "We can't make it right, Ron," she said, crossing her arms. "There is no way any of this will ever be right again! Please, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Just...just don't ask me!" She pushed past him out the door and he heard the sound of her footsteps running down the stairs. ** Hermione started work the following Monday. She was a junior research assistant, though her supervisor could tell she wouldn't be a junior for long. She worked alongside Susan Bones, who'd gotten the other position. She had never known the girl well, but they got along swimmingly and Hermione found Susan to be a genuinely sweet person who was infinitely easy to talk to. "You're very lucky," Susan had said to her. "I know," Hermione said, thinking how glad she'd been to get out of her harrowing experience at the Arabian Palace. "Ron's wonderful, isn't he?" And she had this dreamy, far-off look in her eyes that startled Hermione into smiling. Susan had a crush on Ron. Hermione had simply smiled and patted Susan's hand before going back to separating potion ingredients. At the end of the day, Hermione was tired and glad to be heading home. She had gotten better at precision apparating, and therefore popped herself, with the help of her new wand, right in front of the tea cupboard. Satisfied with her accuracy, Hermione raised her hand to open the cabinet door, but stopped short when she heard voices. She was standing in an alcove off the kitchen and could hear people talking right around the corner. "She won't say," Ron was telling his companion. "Well, maybe she won't have to," Harry responded. "Perhaps we can track him down ourselves." "I don't think so, Harry," Ron said heavily as they moved off toward the staircase. Hermione blinked, shook her head, and went back to making tea. She didn't doubt they were still talking about her, but right at the moment she was too weary to go bursting in on them, demanding they not talk about her behind her back. Right now all she wanted was to sit down with a hot cup of tea and not think about anything. The first cup went down so easy that she had a second, the warm liquid laced with honey and very soothing. After she'd washed her cup and returned it to the cupboard, Hermione started upstairs to change out of her work robes. Harry and Ginny were blocking the top of the staircase, arms wrapped around one another without any attention to anyone else in the world. The creaking step didn't draw their notice, so Hermione coughed loudly. "Sorry," Ginny mumbled, pushing Harry off toward the side. They resumed snogging and groping each other against the wall, leaving Hermione enough room to slip by them. She was still chuckling when she got to her room. She opened the door and saw Ron. His knuckles were dead white against the black silk fabric in his hands. "Ron," she said carefully, "what are you doing?" But Ron was looking down at the cloak, the expensive cloth knotted in his fingers, open to expose the label inside, a specialty tag bearing the crest of the family Malfoy. He looked up at her, his blue eyes full of pain and anger. "It was Malfoy," he said, his tone eerily soft. Hermione stared, horror-stricken, at him, unable to speak, unable to move, frozen in fear. He'd found her out after all. "You slept with Malfoy," he said the words as though they were just dawning on him. "Didn't you?" Still she stared. "Didn't you!" he demanded, his voice rising with his temper. "Did you fuck Malfoy? Answer me, damn it!" "Yes, yes!" she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. Ron's hands, still fisted in the cloak so black it nearly glowed blue, began to quake. "Why didn't you tell me?" She only shook her head. Ron's heart was thudding against his ribs, pounding so loudly he could've drowned in the sound of it. "Why didn't you tell me? What is because you liked it? You liked fucking Malfoy?" He was shouting now, shaking violently, as he yelled at her. "I can't believe you! That's why you kept his cloak! You could've returned it, but you wanted to keep a souvenir!" "Shut up, Ron!" she shouted back, stepping forward and snapping the cloak from his hands. "Don't you ever, ever say that to me! You have no idea what it was like. He saved me, Draco saved me!" "Draco? Draco! How did he save you, Hermione? Pardon me, but I don't think you can fuck someone to safety." Hermione crossed the distance between them in one single step and slapped him hard across the cheek. She stepped back, trembling. It was only the second time in her life she'd ever slapped anyone. The first person had been Draco Malfoy, all those years ago. The realization hit home like nothing ever before and Hermione turned to leave. "I have to go." She was out of the house before she considered where she was going. ** "Holy shit," Draco said when he opened his front door to find Hermione Granger standing in the rain. "I mean, hi." "Hi," she responded in a miserable tone. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her face wet with droplets having nothing to do with the weather. He held the door open wide for her to enter. Closing the latch after her, Draco waited patiently for her to say something. She didn't. She just stood in his living room, looking pale and morose. Draco frowned. "Won't you sit down?" She sat on the couch and he sat next to her, setting his drink on the coffee table. "I came to return your cloak," she said suddenly, thrusting a wrinkled ball of black cloth into his hands. "Sorry I didn't wash it." Draco looked down at the mass of fabric and raised one perfect, pale eyebrow. "You could've owled it." She looked at him then, turning her warm brown eyes right to his and saying, "No, I wanted to return it in person." "Did you?" Draco smiled, delighted to hear it. She was still looking at him, her eyes traveling slowly over his face, across his cheeks, down his nose, and settling finally on his rose lips. Aware of her gaze, Draco touched his tongue to his upper lip and watched her eyes flicker with interest. Well, his day had just gotten a whole lot better. He chuckled softly to himself. "So why are you really here?" That brought her eyes back up to his. "Ron knows." "What?" Draco was caught off-guard by her statement. "He knows. He found out about us sle--about us...and we got into this huge row and...and..." her chest heaved in a gasp and she looked like she might cry again, so Draco put his arm around her comfortingly. Hermione buried her face in his shoulder, but didn't cry. Instead she breathed, deeply and evenly, reverently almost, soaking up the scent she didn't realize she'd been missing. "Come on, now, Granger," he said, his tone light and teasing to hide his own fervent hope, "one might think you missed me." "I'm thirsty," she said sullenly. "I'll get you something-" he began, but she'd already swiped his glass off the coffee table. "No, its--" Hermione spluttered, coughing and choking as her eyes watered a bit. "-vodka," he finished with a small smile. She gave him a sidelong look and tossed back the remainder of the alcohol. It went down much smoother now that she knew not to expect water. "That bad, eh?" Draco said sympathetically. "You have no idea." She looked up, studying him for a minute, her eyes traveling again, across his face, that handsome, smirking face, and something clicked. She pushed herself forward a bit so that their lips touched, kept pushing till she was pressed against him, thigh to thigh, kept pushing till he was leaning down against the couch, a throw pillow making an uncomfortable plot to rule his right shoulder. Suddenly she couldn't help herself; she couldn't get enough of him. Wanted him so badly she didn't realize she'd been inactively thinking about it already for several minutes. She straddled him, tugging the hem of his shirt up so she could slip her hands under it. That first contact was like electricity, like that first breath after swimming underwater. It was so raw, so necessary. She fitted her mouth to his again and claimed him with her tongue, her hands wandering over his pale skin, her hair tickling his arm as he brought his fingers up to caress her cheek. He could still taste his vodka in her mouth and that animalistic look in her eyes was driving him wild. He pulled her closer, holding her, stroking her hair as she ground her hips down on him, causing him to gasp. He'd never seen her so... predatory. When she touched him, he wanted her so badly, wanted to be inside her, to know her...wanted for her to know him. He kissed her again, tasting her and committing this moment to memory. He shut his eyes as her mouth worked its way downward, kissing along his throat, shoving the shirt aside, licking his stomach. Draco never did anything by half and wasn't used to someone else giving orders. But no one had ever claimed his heart. Not before her. He'd fallen hard for her, and she had no idea how wild she was driving him. A moan escaped him as Hermione's fingers dove past the waist of his trousers. A few heated moments and she was flicking open the button, tugging at the zipper. She ripped off her own clothes as he stripped purposefully. She hovered over him and Draco was vaguely aware of the ill-placed throw pillow once again. "You sure about this?" he managed somehow. She impaled herself upon him and he groaned ardently, causing her to smile at him. She was hot and wet and wanting. The memory of Draco could cause shivers, but the actual act of being with him... Hermione wasn't prepared for the sudden assault on her senses. She rocked against him, moaning his name, diving down to plant a heated kiss on his mouth. He scrabbled to hold her in his arms as she writhed erotically around him. Her pace was swift and wild and Draco watched her, his name falling from her lips like a reverent prayer. His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust into her, as if trying to keep her from flying away. Her cheeks were rosy now, her lips swollen to their full beauty, as Draco fought for control. And then she cried out, seeing nothing but sparks, feeling nothing but ecstasy, as she broke apart and took him with her. He held her tightly, panting and convulsing, hugging her close to his naked chest so he could feel the riotous beating of her heart as she gasped against him. He waited, brushing the long strands of brown hair away from her face, as she came back down to earth. She clung to him for a moment longer, then slid off of him slowly. Draco's heart was still flipping over inside of him as he stood up and gathered her into his arms. "Where are we going?" she murmured, her forehead tucked in against his salt-sweaty neck. "To do this properly," he said. He carried her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut. It never occurred to her to object. ** Hermione awoke the next morning to find Draco sleeping peacefully at her side. Someone was pounding on Draco's front door. The blond roused himself slowly. "What in bloody..." He glanced over and caught an eyeful of naked Hermione scampering about picking up her clothes. From his front door came an all too familiar voice. "Open up, Malfoy!" Hermione groaned. Ron would have come looking for her. Draco grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head, casting a look at Hermione. "You tell them you were planning to sleep over?" She shook her head. "Might be best if you stayed in here," he said, hurrying off to answer the banging persuasion at his door. Hermione got dressed quickly and stood nervously in the center of the room. Ron had found her in a hurry. From the living room she could hear the sound of raised voices and foot stomping. "Calm down, Weasley," Draco was saying, impatiently trying to head off an unpleasant line of questioning. "I won't! She's gone missing again, and all I can think is you're the only one who knows where that godforsaken palace is. If they've hurt her-" "Its okay, Ron," that soothing voice belonged to Harry. "Look, Malfoy, we'd really appreciate-" They thought she'd been kidnapped again, Hermione realized. Oh, Lord. Not good. She opened the door to the bedroom and stepped through. "Hermione!" Ron shouted, rushing forward and sweeping her into a relieved hug. "Oh, thank goodness you're sa-" He stopped talking, abruptly letting go of her and examining her disheveled state. "You've been here all night?" She nodded, though it pained her to confess it. "Fucking bloody hell!" Ron rounded on Draco and stalked forward. "I'll kill you, you little snake!" "Ron, don't!" Harry's warning came too late as Ron's fist connected with Draco's face. Blood rained from the blond boy's nose, running freely down onto his shirt. "What the hell?" Draco exclaimed, too dazed to really work up his temper just yet. "What did you do to her?" Ron demanded. "Did you hex her into coming back here?" "I hate to break it to you, Weasley, but unlike you, I don't have to hex women to get them into bed with me." The trademark sneer made its appearance and Ron lunged at him again. Harry threw himself between his best friend and his old rival. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We came because we care about Hermione, not because we want to bust up Malfoy's apartment." Calm was not what Ron wanted at the moment. He wanted his rage and his anger. He turned to Hermione, who looked at him sorrowfully. "You got what you wanted. I'm out. It's finished." He stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door after himself. Harry swore and started after him. From the doorway he said, "This isn't over, Malfoy. I'll want to talk to you later." "Yeah, thanks for stopping by!" Draco called sarcastically, adding under his breath, "Jackass." He sat down on his couch wearily and tilted his head back, pinching his patrician nose to stem the flow of blood. Hermione moved through the kitchen, finding a towel and soaking it. She brought it to the living room and sat beside him, tenderly washing away the stains from his chin and cheeks. He smiled at her slightly. "I'm sorry about that," she said, waving her hand to indicate the altercation he'd just had. "I guess I didn't think they'd find me here." That was an interesting statement. The blood had stopped and Draco sat up, regarding her curiously. "You didn't want them to find you?" "Well, not here...not like this," she said quietly. She got up and took the towel to the sink to rinse it out. Draco fingered his lower lip pensively. "Um...Hermione," he began tentatively. "Yes?" She looked up from her place at the sink and Draco realized he had no idea what he intended to say. "You're beautiful in the morning," he said. She favored him with a soft smile, coming to his side and wrapping her arms around him again. "And you're beautiful when you're well-fucked," she told him, capturing his mouth for a kiss before he could respond. ** Harry showed up just as Hermione was leaving to go to work. Draco had managed a quick shower and fresh clothes and was now seated across from Harry in his own living room. It felt very odd to be looking at his former enemy sitting so calmly on the sofa. "If you're waiting for me to play hostess, you've got a long interim ahead of you," Draco said at last. Harry smiled lazily at him. "No. I've come to discuss Hermione's...situation." "Situation?" Draco repeated blankly. "Yes," Harry said. They stared at each other for a long moment, during which the bottom dropped out of Draco's stomach. "Her situation..." They hadn't had wands at the palace. No birth control charms. Oh, God. His mouth suddenly went dry. "Oh, gods..." "What's wrong?" Harry asked, looking at Draco strangely. "You look like I just punched you in the neck." Draco turned glazed eyes upon him. "Shouldn't she be the one to talk to me about this?" "Yes, well," Harry said, toying with his wand. "She doesn't want to talk about it to anyone. But I think something has got to be done about it before it happens to some other poor, unsuspecting girl." "What? Potter, some other girl? How many women do you think I sleep with?" Draco spat. "And what right do you have to tell me that something has to be done about it? It's none of your business!" "Anything that happens to a friend of mine is my business," Harry stated calmly. "Well, believe me, this doesn't concern you," Draco snarled at him, feeling a touch of the old schoolhouse rivalry. "I assure you, no harm will come to her and I will do the right thing by Hermione." Now Harry was looking at him as though he'd been speaking in a foreign language. Harry said to him, "Well, you certainly can't take on a thing like this by yourself." "By my...Potter, what in Merlin's name... No. You know what? I don't even want to know how that addled little mind of yours works," Draco said. He stood up and paced into his kitchen, grabbing the bottle of vodka and pouring a shot of it into last night's dirty rocks glass. "You want?" Harry declined. "You know, you're the only one who can help us find the palace." "The palace?" Draco repeated, bewildered. "Why would you want to find that?" "Because," Harry said impatiently, "we want to shut them down. So they can't hurt any more girls the way they hurt Hermione." "Someone hurt Hermione?" "You're not a morning person, are you?" Harry asked. "I was referring to the whole kidnapped and forced to sleep with you fiasco, just to clarify." "Oh," Draco said, too confused to be offended. "Right. Well, I don't see what I can do." "You paid for her," Harry pointed out. "Gringotts will have the number for the transfer account; from there perhaps we can get a name. It's a place to start." "Mm," Draco mused. "But you know how the keepers at Gringotts are. I doubt we'd be able to get anything out of them without a Ministry warrant." "If I can get one, will you try? "All right," Draco agreed pouring himself another hit of vodka. "What do you intend to do once you have a name? You don't have any proof unless you can raid the palace." "I have two women who can testify. In this country, those charges will be worth something." "Two women?" "Hermione said your cousin Marcus took home a brunette named Bernice," Harry informed him. "Is that her name?" Draco said absently. He'd never bothered to learn it, nor any girl's lately, for that matter. Only one name mattered to him now. "I just...can't believe it." "What?" Harry asked suspiciously. "I told you this was about Hermione's situation. She needs that place shut down, so she can have closure over this aspect of her life." Draco frowned at Harry and swirled his undrunk alcohol in the glass. "Wait, won't the baby be a constant reminder?" Harry's face went white as mist. "Baby?" "You just said-" Draco broke off. "Hermione's pregnant?" Harry was on his feet and advancing on Draco, his wand held out menacingly and pointed at Draco's heart. "You just said...about her situation!" Draco said exasperatedly. Harry stopped in his tracks and started laughing. "No, you idiot! God, don't give me a heart attack like that!" Harry leaned against the counter, gasping for breath between giggles. "You stupid, idiotic..." He was laughing too hard to finish his statement. Relief washed over Draco, disappointment fast on its heels. "So she's not...ah...in the family way?" Harry rolled his eyes. "God, who uses that expression anymore, Malfoy, you git. You'd have to ask her for sure, but nobody's said anything to me." Harry muttered a few more things to himself and moved toward the door. He stopped halfway out and turned back toward Draco. "If you do knock her up, I'll kill you." The door shut with an audible click and Draco stood at his kitchen sink for a long time, just thinking. He poured the remains of his drink down the drain and wondered why his chest was squeezing him so painfully. He must have really wanted it, he realized. Oh, fuck; he'd fallen much harder than he thought. ** Harry turned up at Hermione's office that afternoon. His conversation with Draco had unsettled him to say the least, and even his leisurely lunch with Ginny hadn't quite distracted him from it. "Listen," he said quietly to Hermione. "I don't want to have this conversation, really, but uh...when you were at the palace were you...careful?" Hermione blinked at him. "Careful?" "That is to say...when you slept with Malfoy," and here he paused as if trying not to convulse in disgust, "did you take precautions?" "Oh. Oh! Oh, dear," Hermione said. She rushed into an explanation, but Harry held up his hand to stop her. "Just please, make sure you're all right," he said. She nodded and he left again, saying something about having to get to Gringotts. Susan approached Hermione carefully. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, it's just such a small space. If you want, I could take the test with you." Susan obviously meant it as a gesture of solidarity, something to lend her courage. Hermione forced a painful smile and a thank you. She might as well get it over with. They had plenty ingredients to make the telling potion and their boss often left them to work unsupervised during the afternoons in which he had meetings. They assembled and worked quickly. "Okay," Hermione said, taking up the needle when their two test tubes of potion were ready. "One drop of blood. If the potion turns green, you're good. If the potion turns pink, well, you know." Somehow she couldn't bring herself to let the word "pregnant" pass her lips. She was much too young for something like that. She and Susan pricked their fingers, squeezed a drop of blood into their respective containers, and waited for the reaction. "Green! Yes!" Hermione cheered. She glanced over at Susan, who had gone deathly pale as tears slipped steadily down her round cheeks. "Oh, fuck," Hermione said. Susan's was pink. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," Susan said, turning her head slowly. "Oh, Susan, it's all right," Hermione said, hurrying to comfort the other girl. "You certainly needn't apologize to me. These things happen-" "No," Susan interrupted. "You don't understand." "What?" Hermione said soothingly. "It's Ron." Hermione looked up, expecting to see Ron standing in the doorway. She glanced about the room, but they were alone. "What's Ron?" Hermione queried. Susan looked at her full-on and then Hermione knew. "That bastard." Hermione apparated to the Burrow and began shouting indiscriminately for Ron. She drew a crowd of Weasleys; Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Harry. "Hermione! What?" Ron said. Hermione was so relieved and angry she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. "You're a fucking, lying goddamm bastard, Ron Weasley!" "Me?" Ron was instantly defensive. "What about you-" "Oh, no, you don't," she cut him off. "Susan's pregnant." There was a dead weight of silence hanging around them while everyone waited for the next bit of drama to unfold. Ron looked as though he was going to be physically ill. Hermione was shaking as one emotion after the other swept over her. At last she found enough control to use her voice again. "It is so over for us, Ron." Oddly, it was Ginny who protested. "No, Hermione, please." "No," Ron said quietly. "She's right. I did the unthinkable. I got really drunk and did something stupid. And then last night..." He looked guiltily at Hermione. She had a bad taste in her mouth and looked away. "Okay, what is going on?" Fred demanded. "You're both sleeping with other people? Well, that makes for one seriously fucked up relationship." "Shut up, George," three voices said simultaneously. "I'm not George," Fred sniffed sadly. "Shut up, Fred," three voices returned automatically. "Look," Ginny said, stepping between the hurt couple. "You guys have been together for a long time. You've both made mistakes. The test is whether or not you can forgive each other and move on. You owe it to yourselves to at least try. Please. At least sleep on it." Hermione and Ron nodded their agreement. She stopped sleeping with him. When they talked, things were strained to a thin, taut line. And try as she might, she didn't really want the first child of her marriage to belong to another woman. She and Ron weren't married, of course, but what was the point if this path didn't lead to the altar? "Do you think you could love Susan?" she asked him one day when they were sitting at the breakfast table. Ginny, Harry, Fred, and George all held their breath. Ron looked up from his cornflakes, surprised, and slowly nodded, looking sick the entire time. "I'm so sorry. I think I could though." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It had been two long weeks. Two weeks in which the divide between them widened to an unbreachable gap, and things became greatly unbearable. She had found a small single flat which she was considering taking, and in the end, she realized they had only been fighting the inevitable. She found herself thinking of Draco any time she let her mind wander, and it often wandered to his shirtless chest. She was sad to close this chapter of her life, but eager to see what the next one held. She reached out her hand across the table and Ron took it, giving a gentle squeeze. Hermione broke then, and started laughing with such abandon that Harry thought she'd gone around the bend. Ron grinned and joined her. The two of them laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. "We're seriously fucked up, aren't we?" he said through his laughter. Hermione could only nod and hold her stomach. "We never really should have been... Well, that's sad, isn't it?" She went quiet then, wiping away the tears. "It's really over." "Yeah," he acknowledged. Hermione leaned across the table and grabbed him suddenly in a fierce hug, startling everyone. "I'll still love you, you know," she whispered against his ginger hair. "Me, too," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. They sat for a moment with their foreheads touching in a bittersweet eulogy to their former relationship. It was Harry who broke the silence. "Does this mean we're all still friends?" Hermione nodded vigorously and opened her arms to him. The three of them held each other. "Oh, George!" Fred mock-sobbed. "Hold me!" The twins leapt on each other, pretending to cry and laugh at intervals as they danced out of the room. "Idiots!" Ginny called after them. Harry folded Ginny into their group hug and kissed her forehead. "Well, look, this has all been great, but now I'm gonna take Ginny upstairs and grope her," Harry said. Ginny nearly blushed, but was simply too pleased to be bothered. Ron and Hermione were left alone together. He released her slowly. "I still want to help you find those Arabian jerks." Hermione nodded. "Thanks." "I guess I better go find Susan." "Oh, yeah," Hermione agreed. "You gonna run back to Malfoy?" He was still bitter toward that end and couldn't quite cover it. "Um, well," she hedged. "I don't think it's really like that with us." "You can always stay here." She smiled at his quiet invitation, but shook her head. "I think I need to be by myself for awhile. Get my head sorted." He nodded. "I can't believe it's over." A half-sob escaped her and she got up, went around and flung herself into his arms one more time, wishing it didn't hurt so much. Part of her always thought she would be with Ron, and it hurt to let that security blanket go. But growing up was that way. She squeezed his hands when she stepped out of his embrace. She kissed his cheek and disapparated with a soft pop, leaving Ron to touch his cheek in respectful remembrance. ** It had been weeks since Draco had last seen Hermione and he was going out of his mind. He'd now seen Harry Potter more times in the last month than the love of his life. It was amazing and excruciating how he had been able to go for years without her touch, and then suddenly, after having it in his arms, having it flee again so readily. He was certain he was going to lose his mind if he didn't get to see her again. Harry had been no help whatsoever, insisting that he would not tell Draco where he could find Hermione unless Draco was very helpful to his current cause. Draco grudgingly bent over backwards to fulfill any and all requests toward this end. Harry only clapped him on the shoulder, giving him that annoying, knowing smile. It was sick, really, Draco decided. "If she wants to see you, she'll see you," Harry told him mysteriously at one point. "Potter," Draco said with feeling, "I hate you." Harry grinned very broadly. Draco considered punching him in his righteous mouth. Fortunately an owl swooped in, distracting him from his irritation. "It's from her!" he said, unable to hide his glee. Harry rolled his eyes. "Fuck, you are smitten." "Shut up," Draco muttered, a grin growing wide across his handsome face. He ran a hand through his light hair as he quickly read and re-read her note. "What's it say?" Harry asked, just to be irritating. He put down the map he was looking at and waited expectantly. "Shut up," Draco said, holding the note out of reach. But he sighed in a way that told Harry Hermione had just made Draco very happy. Harry ducked his head back down to the maps and just smiled. They had been marking out possible places that the palace could conceivably be, but it was slow going. He rubbed his eyes. "You ready to quit?" Draco asked amiably. "For now," Harry admitted. He got up, rolling his stiff shoulders. "How'd you make out with that warrant from the Ministry?" Draco asked, rolling up Hermione's letter. "Fair," Harry asked. "Gringotts was forced to give us a contact. The Ministry is arranging charges now. I still think we need to get in on the inside. Is there any way you could snag us another invitation?" "Dunno," Draco admitted. "I'll owl Marcus and see what he can come up with." "All right, thanks," Harry said. Draco was still grinning like an idiot. "What?" "She's cooking me dinner." Harry's face changed to an expression of mortification. "She must really hate you," he said solemnly. "What? Why?" Draco was mildly alarmed. "You'll see." "No, tell me now." "Hermione is the worst cook in the whole world," Harry said seriously. "I hope for your sake she doesn't try to make Chicken Kiev." He shuddered at the memory. Draco had an odd look on his face. Harry mustered a smile. "Well, good luck then." "Cheers," Draco said weakly. Harry let himself out. About the time Draco was wondering if he should have stopped somewhere to get antacid tablets, he realized it was too late because he was already standing on Hermione's doorstep. He shook his head as he pressed the bell. Clearly he was not in his right mind where she was concerned. Of course, he'd already figured that out three years ago when he'd realized he was head over heels for a woman he couldn't have. And here he was, clutching a ridiculously large bouquet of orchids, the scent of which was making him steadily more lightheaded. The door was opened by a breathless Hermione. "Hello." She smiled radiantly at him and he smiled back at her, wishing he could conjure up a little of the Malfoy charm he was known for. Instead he simply said, "These are for you." "Oh, thank you." She welcomed him into her flat and went to fetch a vase for the flowers. He looked around as though seeing the gates of heaven. He was in her apartment. He had been invited here. She wanted him. She wanted to see him. He felt so light, as if he could fly without a broom. She had cast wingardium leviosa on his heart, and given it wings. He only wished he could give her that back. He followed her into the modest kitchen and watched her plump the petals in the large white vase. He closed the gap between them and unable to think of anything truly suave to say, simply leaned in and kissed her. Her arms circled his neck as she kissed him back. "I love the way you...feel." It was whispered fervently against his neck and Draco squeezed her tightly. "Have a little more." He touched his lips to hers softly, teasing them open with little flicks of his tongue. Hermione's head began to spin dizzily as each kiss drove all thoughts further and further away. The world was melting into itself and she didn't care. She felt like she'd been waiting so long for this. Suddenly she couldn't stop the tears that came pouring out of her like water from a river. "What? What?" Draco was slightly panicked. "Are you...you're not? Are you all right?" He forced himself to stay calm. She turned those cinnamon eyes upon him and said simply, "I'm falling for you." Draco almost laughed, but couldn't through his own emotions. He kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. He whispered, "Honey, I've been falling so long it feels like flying." She smiled at him then and they made love on the kitchen floor. The chicken kiev burned to a fine, black crisp. Draco was immensely relieved when Hermione suggested Chinese take away as an alternative. They sat in the living room, cross-legged on the floor, since she'd not yet gotten much in the way of furniture, talking and laughing as though they'd always been together. In some ways, they had. Without walls between them, Draco and Hermione could finally really see each other. He reached out and touched her cheek, brushing it softly with his fingertip. He wondered if she had any idea how long he had wanted to do that, this, just be together with her like this. "Did you fall in love with me after the palace?" she asked, almost reading his thoughts. Draco chuckled and shook his head. "No. It was a long time before that. A really long time. All that talk from father about mud- muggle-borns being beneath us. Then there you were, always the best in the class, the best witch by far. Being born a Malfoy, I was accustomed to the best. It didn't merge well for me when the best witch I knew was off-limits to me." "You have very high standards," she said mock-seriously. "Malfoys have impeccable taste, so you can imagine how disconcerting it was to realize one day that I was desperately in love with someone who by my own actions, was out of reach." "Hm," she said musingly. "I think we've had too much wine." "Are you drunk?" he asked, leaning closer and smirking at her. "Yes." Once upon a time, that smirk would have made her blood turn cold; now it made it burn like lava in her veins. "Good," he said, and kissed her. He poured over her like liquid fire, smooth and hot and melting against her. She wrapped herself around him, breathing him in, feeling him, tasting him. She wondered how she could ever have loved anyone but him. He kissed that spot just below her ear, nuzzling her neck tenderly; she ceased to wonder anything at all. ** Mrs. Weasley didn't understand her son's sudden overthrow of girlfriends, but welcomed Susan to the family when she and Ron turned up after their elopement. It was Ginny who confirmed her suspicions later that night over a cup of tea in the kitchen. "Poor Hermione," Mrs. Weasley had said. "Don't, mum," Ginny had said stiffly. "She's boffing Draco Malfoy." Mrs. Weasley didn't know at all what to make of that so she simply took another biscuit and stared at the kitchen table. "Oh, hello," Harry said, coming into the room. "Didn't know anyone was up." Ginny smiled at him and Mrs. Weasley was pleased to see the two of them were getting closer. She had always loved Harry like her own son, and had hopes that someday he would be. On the other hand, she thought, flashing Harry a stern look, she didn't want to miss out on Ginny's wedding because of another forced elopement. She considered saying something to them, but thought the better of it and excused herself to bed. "How are you?" Ginny asked. "Fine," he replied, sliding into the seat next to her and dropping a quick kiss on her cheek. "How come you're up so late?" "Just thinking." "Mm." He kissed her gently on the lips. "Wanna do it on the kitchen table?" "Harry," she swatted at him. "This is my mother's table! Let's go out to the garden..." ** The owl managed to find him at Hermione's flat, and it stood patiently pecking the window pane until she answered. "It's for you," she said, holding the letter to him. Draco recognized the purple seal at once. "Don't open it," he warned, pulling his shirt on over his head. "I wasn't going to," she said stiffly. "I don't make a habit of reading other people's mail." "No," Draco said impatiently, plucking the letter from her. "Once you break the seal, there's an enchantment. That's why I can't remember the apparition coordinates." "Oh." "I think this is the invitation we've been waiting for," Draco explained, though Hermione had already logically concluded as much. "I'm off. Want to have dinner tonight?" "Okay...Wait!" Hermione called him back. She gave him a goodbye kiss. "If I didn't have to get to work, I would go with you. Please don't do anything foolish." "Like what?" he asked in exasperation. She only kissed him again and gave him a playful shove. "Go on. I'll see you tonight." When Draco got back to his flat, he sent a quick note off to Harry, then headed for the shower. The reply came as he finished tucking in his shirt. Harry was at work and would be bring associates over to Draco's momentarily. He hoped that wasn't a problem. Draco rolled his eyes. He hurried about his living room, tidying up, but the bell rang before he'd gotten very far. Harry entered carrying his broom and flanked by six other characters, only one of whom Draco recognized. "Professor Lupin?" Draco was confused as to why he was letting a werewolf into his flat. "Not Professor anymore, Mr. Malfoy," Remus Lupin said. "He works with us," Harry explained. He introduced the rest of his crew, but Draco didn't pay much attention to any of them except a woman named Tonks, whose hair was changing colors before his eyes. He shook his head. "Where is it?" Harry asked. Draco snatched the invitation off the countertop and tossed to him. Harry looked round at everyone. "Ready?" Lupin held up a pensieve and tapped the side of it. Harry broke the purple seal and perfume spilled out of the envelope. They all coughed a bit, but looked down at the parchment, peering at the evanescent address. Harry immediately went to the pensieve and poured his latest thought into the bowl. The address shimmered, but it stayed put. Satisfied, Harry watched as the ink dissolved from the real invite and the paper caught fire of its own accord. "Well, then," Draco said. "What next?" Harry outlined their plan. He and the other Aurors had ministry approval to raid the palace. While certain things were outside their realm because of the cross-country legal systems, the Ministry could seize any of their own citizens and at least punish the king of said palace monetarily by fining him for illegal activities performed in England. If the henchmen who kidnapped Hermione could be found, they could bring charges against them as well. The French government had declined to cooperate since Bernice had recently applied for English citizenship. "Doesn't seem like enough, does it?" Draco said, reading Harry's frown. Harry glanced up at him. "No, somehow not. Makes you want to set the place on fire or something. But it's the best we can do for now. Unless they start taking underage witches, or muggles." "They may have had muggles," Draco said. "No magic allowed there, so you couldn't have told a squib girl from a witch anyway." "Hm," Harry said thoughtfully. "Well, we're putting together an effort for tonight. We will bring Ron and Hermione because I can't imagine we'll have enough people to round up everyone, if it's as big as she says. I'd rather get the people who got her first and then figure the rest out." "I wish she would stay home, where it's safe," Draco said. "Yeah," Harry agreed. "But you know Hermione." Draco nodded ruefully. "I'll come too." "We can't guarantee your safety," was all Harry said. Draco smiled at him. "But you can't pick a fight with Ron. This is official business." "He's the one who picks fights with me!" Draco said, offended. "Honestly, I've done nothing-" Harry gave him a stern look that shut Draco up. "Fine." "All right, we'll see you tonight then," Harry said cheerfully. Draco shook his head; the git actually wanted to go and get his ass kicked by a bunch of foreigners. "Oh, wait," Draco called, remembering something. "They've got muggle weapons. The ones filled with killing curses cased in metal cylinders." "What? You mean guns?" Harry frowned. "Yeah, the big, bad ugly kind," Draco said. "Okay," Harry said. "We'll be prepared." They trooped out together, Lupin carrying the pensieve under his arm as they went off to discuss strategies. ** Draco had yet to find a job. He had his inheritance and spent most of his days trying to figure out what he wanted to do the rest of the time. He had been grossly bored before Hermione had entered his life, and now he felt restless. Like he was supposed to be doing something, but couldn't remember what it was. It was highly worrisome. He trekked out of his apartment in search of a gift for Hermione, though admittedly, he had no idea what he should get. He did manage to spend the entire day looking for whatever it was, though, and finally decided on panties to replace the ones he'd cut off of her at the palace. If nothing else it would make her grin. He hoped. He met up with her just as she arrived at his apartment. "Hi," he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss before opening the door. She followed him inside, looking curiously at the bag tucked under his arm. "Do much shopping at Witches Knickers?" she quizzed him, jabbing a finger at the shopping bag. Draco pursed his lips. "No, smarty, they're for you." He tossed the bag to her. "Well, green silk is really nice. What's the occasion?" "Just a replacement." He grinned and she blushed, stuffing the underwear back into the sack. "You plan to cut these ones off, too?" she teased him through pink cheeks. He growled throatily and pulled her close. They were still kissing when the doorbell announced Harry's return. "What're you doing here?" Draco asked, trying to fight down his passion. He felt overheated and wasn't at all interested in being interrupted at the moment. Ron pushed past him into the interior of the apartment. The rest of the crew followed, present company now including Harry's troupe of aurors and the Weasley twins. "What? You forgot the tag-along?" Harry frowned at Draco. Draco gestured, trying to explain. "You know. The Weaselette. Red hair, freckles?" "Ginny?" Harry supplied. "You stay the hell away from Ginny," Ron said, thrusting the tip of his wand up under Draco's chin. "Good evening to you, too, you wanker," Draco said. "Draco, please," Hermione said patiently. She put her hand on Ron's arm and he lowered his wand obligingly. "Are we ready to get going?" Harry said. "There's no sense putting this off." The group of aurors did some sort of checking against themselves, put up wards around the others, went through their own procedures. It interested Draco more than he liked to admit. Harry genuinely seemed to care about his job. Though, Draco mused, it could have merely been that he wanted vengeance on Hermione's behalf. He couldn't say he didn't want a taste of that himself. They apparated into the desert, the shake of crackles sounding like frenzied popcorn in the overheated air. The aurors looked around, getting their bearings. The few who had invisibility cloaks slipped them on and vanished in a swirl of cloth and sand. Hermione was huddled under Harry's cape and Draco couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. The hot sun was burning cruelly upon them, so Draco grabbed his courage and hopped up the steps into the golden atrium of the enormous palace. "Good evening, gentlemen," the wand check boy greeted Lupin and Draco when they stepped across. "Wands, please." Draco swore profusely in his head. Not this again. He always seemed to get in more trouble without it. Harry's head emerged in the air behind the wand-check attendant and gave a brief nod before sealing itself in invisibility again. Draco pursed his lips, the scene having brought back a flash of the floating head of Potter he'd seen in Hogsmeade as a kid. Not funny. Draco handed over his wand, as did Lupin. Two more aurors trooped in behind them. They went through the same drill. The four visible men made their way down into the main hall. His highness was stepping down from his throne to greet them. "Oh, fuck," Draco said. "He's coming to check our bank accounts." "It'll be fine," Lupin reassured Draco quietly. "Back so soon?" his highness greeted Draco. "Of course," Draco said smoothly. This was his element; schmooze and negotiations, inane pleasantries. His greatest skill. He smiled lazily. "With such excellent service and selection, it's a wonder you don't have more customers beating down your door." His highness chuckled softly. "I'm afraid we don't have much to offer at this time. Our next auction is not scheduled for another six weeks. But I understand you were quite interested to return, so I will see what I can do for you." If the man didn't remember the pale stranger from his looks alone, then the exorbitant sum that Draco had paid for Hermione must have stirred his memory. His highness spread his hands and asked, "So what can I offer you?" "The same as usual," Draco said. "Girls. Pretty ones. I prefer English, or French. You don't stock muggles here, do you?" Perhaps he was pressing his luck, but his highness only laughed. "We rarely get muggles through here." He led Draco across the hall and offered the charm that they used to verify funds. Draco was the first to touch it, but he was beginning to get rather nervous about this plan after all. He was approved and stepped aside so that the next person could come up. There was going to be trouble momentarily if the funds verifications didn't go through for the aurors he was standing with. Draco considered causing a distraction, but couldn't come up with anything. Fortunately, he didn't have to. "Accio pendant!" Harry's disembodied voice called out, summoning the charm before the next man could touch it. Everyone was surprised to see the charm fly into the middle of the room and disappear. "Guards!" his majesty snarled. "Find him!" Two men opened fire on the spot where the charm had disappeared. Draco held his breath. When the noise from the firing stopped, the two guards walked around in the circle they'd created, poking about, but finding nothing. Draco exhaled a sigh of relief. "It seems we have an intruder," his highness proclaimed nastily. "I trust you gentlemen won't mind waiting in the conference room until this matter is sorted." Draco tipped his head deferentially and turned with the others to follow the guards to the aforementioned conference room. Once they'd gotten into the hall, Lupin landed a solid punch to the rear guard's face. The first sentinel turned in surprise, and Draco clocked him, sending him sprawling. He was pleased, though his knuckles smarted briefly. Hermione's voice cast silencing charms on the guards before they could make too much noise. She and Harry appeared, shrugging off the cloak slightly and holding out everyone's wands. Draco grasped his own, feeling the familiar wood in his fingers with relief. He felt less naked now. Hermione smiled at him. He was surprised that his brain wondered why she wasn't in her harem costume. He shook his head against the memories straining to break free. He watched as Harry and the others dragged the guards into the conference room and cast sleeping charms on them. Draco's lips tugged into a smile. This did seem like a fun job after all. "All right," said natural born leader Harry. "Hermione, which way to the cells?" Hermione pointed. "Down that corridor and a flight of stairs. We'll have to go back past the main room, though." "We'll split up then," Harry decided. "Four under the cloaks and down to the cells. Draco, Hermione, you look around and see if you can find the guys who kidnapped you. Take Tonks with you." "No!" Hermione said, thinking too quickly of Tonks's propensity for clumsiness. "We'll manage just fine, and you don't know how many girls may be down there. You need all the help you can get." "All right," Harry agreed reluctantly, knowing full well that Hermione could take care of herself. "But no heroics. If you find them, silencing charms covered with sleeping charms." "Right," Hermione agreed. She threaded her fingers through Draco's giving him a heady little rush, and pulled him down the corridor in the opposite direction from the cells. "So...any idea where you're going?" Draco asked as she tugged him along petulantly. "Not really," she confessed. "I'm just looking around for anything suspicious. Plus I just can't believe this is happening." He agreed silently. They continued walking until the hallway ended in a stairwell. Draco looked at her. "Up or down?" "Well, up is guest rooms, isn't it?" she said, using her practical sense. "We've never seen what's downstairs this direction. Care for a little explore?" They tripped lightly down the stone staircase leading to a dark, dank series of catacombs. Judging by the number of steps they'd gone down, Draco thought they must be several stories underground. It was considerably cooler down here and Hermione shivered through her goose bumps. Draco wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her flesh vigorously to warm her up. She smiled her thanks and they kept walking down the long, long hallway. "Lumos," they both whispered when the path had gotten too dark to see well. An endless series of rooms stretched out before them, no doors on any of them, and all stocked to capacity with barrels. Draco stopped to read one of the labels. He cast a translation spell so he could understand it. "Bugger," Draco said. "We better get out of here." "Why?" Hermione bent down and peered at the label. "Well, he's got his fingers in everything, hasn't he? I wonder if anyone knows he's hoarding volatile explosives down here." "Doubtful, but I'm sure the ministry would be interested. He's got enough stuff down here to blow up a small country," Draco said. "Come on, let's go find the others. This is a violation of the peace directives the wizarding world agreed on-" "-In 1979 after the Siege on Kalabar by the Second Faction of the Goblin Rebellion," Hermione cut in smugly. Draco slipped his arm around her, consciously aware of how right they were for each other, and said, "Didn't think anyone but me ever read Hogwarts: A History." She would've laughed, but the guard blocking their path sucked the happiness right out of her. He was shouting in his native tongue. "Translation: we're boned," Draco said. He and Hermione turned and fled back the way they'd come, their footsteps echoing loudly down the empty hallway. The guards opened fire and Draco just managed to press Hermione into a barrel-filled room. "Nox," Draco murmured, extinguishing their wands. There was more shouting now, evidently a new man had entered the conversation and was chastising the other man for something. "The bullets," Hermione said as though she could read minds. "What?" Draco whispered, his body pressed up against hers, covering her and holding her to the filthy wall. "If he catches one of these barrels, it's all over for us," she said. "Right," he said, remembering the explosives all around them. He wished her breasts weren't pressing into his chest just so; it was driving him mad and he really needed to concentrate. "We've got to get out of here," she whispered urgently, her breath warming his neck. Draco silently cursed himself for responding to that, but he still bent his head and kissed her passionately. If they were gonna get blown to kingdom come, he might as well get a kiss goodbye. "Hear that?" Hermione asked a moment later. "Hm," Draco said noncommittally. "It's Ron!" She pushed past him and out into the corridor. "Hermione!" "Ron!" Draco stepped around the corner just in time to see Hermione launch herself into Ron's arms. His jealous pang was only fueled by the smug look on Ron's face. The redhead said to Hermione, "Come on, we've got to get out of here. They've sprung all the girls. There weren't that many. Tonks and Fred and George have gone to take them to the Ministry to give statements. Harry reckons they've enough evidence to at least drain the bank accounts floating this place." "Great," she skipped off happily with him, leaving Draco staring after her. He had to hurry to keep up. They met up with Harry at the top of the staircase. "We've got his highness in custody," Harry informed them. "Lupin's escorting him to the Ministry at this moment. Any luck with your guys?" Hermione shook her head. Harry patted her arm sympathetically. "Well, listen, don't worry. He'll probably cut a deal and give them up to us anyway." She nodded and smiled her gratitude. Harry looked at her for a long, agonizing moment. "You know what? I still wish we could put this place out of business for good. And Ministry laws be damned." "Well," Hermione said mischievously, "we could always blow this place sky high." "What is it with you Gryffindors and arson?" Draco drawled boredly. His voice drew the trio's attention and they stared at him blankly. "Must be all that red in your house colors; incites pyromania." Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry laid a restraining arm on him. Harry said, "Well, look, I'm not going to give over to petty crimes now anyway. Come on, let's go." "So, Potter," Draco asked casually, "is everyone innocent out of the palace?" "Yeah," Harry replied. "We made quite a few arrests, so all in all, it went pretty well. There weren't nearly as many people here as I expected, but that's all right. We'll get their names when the others make deals." He twirled his wand deftly through his fingers and Draco was struck once again by how satisfied Harry seemed with his current line of work. Heroics came naturally to him. Draco hung back a moment, letting the three of them talk together as they headed for the exit. Then he slipped back down to the long, barrel-laden catacombs. Slowly he created three magical fires in the hallway, binding them with timing charms. Once the flames had burned through the time-fuse-charms, the fire would spread, burn into the rooms, igniting the barrels. Yes, it was criminal, but so was the business conducted above. And as long as he lived, Draco vowed no one would ever harm Hermione again. He hurried up the staircase and collided with Hermione. She had come back for him and said, "Harry and Ron have gone back to the ministry." Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the exit. "What did you do?" she said accusingly, knowing instinctively that he had a plot. His eyes glinted with a hint of the old cruelty, but all he said was, "Run." She ran after him; they ran through the building, out the golden doors, and into the scorching desert. The moment the barrels ignited, the entire palace quaked with the explosion. Flames leapt up through the rubble, the force of the blast knocking Draco and Hermione to the hot sand. "What did you do?" Hermione screamed through a haze of fire and shrapnel. "Apparate!" he shouted back. They popped out together, reappearing slightly singed on the front stoop of Draco's apartment building. He was grinning wildly, covered with soot and dirtier than Hermione had ever seen him. Worry filled her eyes when she looked at him. Something in her was pleading with him not to be the criminal she now thought he was. Draco leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. "I promise it'll never happen again." He folded her into his arms and brought her into his flat. He stripped her out of her blackened clothes amid a stream of light kisses. Their long, hot shower peeled away the layers of soot and dirt. His kiss was hungry as he devoured every bit of his little English muffin. "Draco?" she said, when his lips left hers. "Mm," he responded, burying his face in her neck. "Why did you let me go?" She leaned back so she could look at him, see his face. "After you bought me, you could have kept me here. It's obvious that you like me." "Oh, it's obvious, is it?" he said wickedly, pressing his erection against her. She smiled. "Why did you let me leave?" "Why would I want to keep you here?" he returned, ducking his head down to kiss her neck. She shivered in his arms, trying desperately to hang on to the thread of their conversation. "Well," she said, trying to collect her thought again, "I just thought..." Understanding the effect he was having on her, Draco took pity on her and said patiently, "I love you, Hermione. I didn't want you here as a slave. I only wanted you, of your own free will. If I let you go, and you came back to me, I'd know you love me. Really love me. And if you didn't... well, the memory of having you was better than having an illusion." She smiled at him then and pulled him close. "I love you, Draco." "That's all I wanted to hear," he said, slipping into her with a sigh. Hermione felt herself being lifted in his strong embrace and realized her fantasy and reality were merging. She loved him, she *loved* him, and she would never love anyone else. End. A/N: For Krys, who when I said, "I love Harry Potter, but I am NOT going to get addicted to fan fiction," she said, "Yeah, right." And when I said, "Okay, I'm addicted to fan fiction, but I'm not going to write it," she said, "Yeah, right." And when I said, "Okay, I wrote one story, but I'm NOT going to write a sequel," she said, "Yeah, right." Thanks to everyone who sent me email coaxing, coercing, begging, and blackmailing me for a sequel with a D/Hr ending, especially: Raphaela, Mariedel z, Julie Bock, kellye, Campy Capybara, pixiezombie, and nc_kat2002.