Chapter 5

Just Tell The Truth, Said No Slytherin Ever

-oOo-

"You didn't actually tell her why she shouldn't be seeing Krum?" Weasley had listened to Draco's sorry tale in surprisingly sympathetic silence, but apparently, he could contain himself no longer.

"I never got to that part."

"It might have gone better if you'd started with that bit, mate. Do you realise you made it sound like you don't think she's good enough for Krum because she's Muggle-born?"

Draco let his head drop into his hands. "Oh, fuck." Suddenly, he feared Hermione might actually kill him – she had been remarkably constrained so far, all things considered.

"That would be a fair summary of the situation, yeah." Weasley appeared surprisingly downbeat for someone only tangentially connected to the epic fuck-up Draco's life had become. All he needed to do was to stand out of the crossfire – once Hermione had reduced Draco to a pile of ashes, he could brush the dust off his manky robes and go about his business.

Instead, he had whisked Draco into relative safety, and somehow got the full story out of him (a feat his own mother wouldn't have achieved, even after a double helping of guilt). Surely he couldn't... No, surely not?

Draco's suspicious scrutiny of Weasley yielded inconclusive results, until the subject spoke.

"Given that you've fucked things up well beyond your usual standards, this will take a bit of tact to sort out. It would be helpful if you could stop staring at me while I'm trying to think. Ta ever so much."

Draco felt a lurch of panic. They were alone in a locked room, and Draco didn't have his wand. There was no telling what Weasley might do if he were faced with the tempting prospect of all his dreams coming true at once.

"Do you –" Draco's voice was almost as shrill as Hermione's when she had found out the Malfoy house-elves slept in the wine cellar. He cleared his throat and managed to hit a more normal pitch. "Do you like me looking at you?"

"I don't really care what you do, but if I had my face less full of whinging Slytherins I might be able to figure out a way to get us all out of this mess. Can you shut up now?"

Draco sat down next to the fireplace, immensely relieved. He didn't think Weasley would take rejection well, so it was just as well he hadn't fallen madly in love with Draco. Once that hideous prospect no longer loomed in his mind, he could get back to mulling over how he probably had blown all his chances of ever having a civilised conversation with Hermione again.

As for her listening to his warning about Krum, he may as well resign himself to seeing them permanently plastered across the society pages of the Prophet.

That was what Krum wanted from Hermione, of course – instant access to the British wizarding world. Pansy's connections paled in comparison to Hermione's. Draco had been so horrified at the prospect of Hermione being exposed to any underhanded curses Krum had picked up at Durmstrang that he had lost his head and failed to see the bigger picture.

"Weasley, you have to tell Hermione that Krum can't be trusted –"

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy – did you ever manage to go just five minutes without talking?" Weasley stood up, stretching his ungainly limbs until Draco was effectively caught between his hand, sized like a spade, and Hermione's desk. "The only thing we can do –"

"All right in there, Ron? Is the ferret still breathing?" Trust Potter to take any chance to show off and dispatch his Patronus in the middle of the Ministry. Draco had to admit it was rather impressive up close – the silvery light seemed too bright to be contained in one room.

Weasley closed his eyes briefly, and then a Jack Russell terrier poured out of his wand and landed on the floor, looking up at the stag. They set off at the same time, bursting through the sealed door, as if they were having a race.

Draco felt strangely bereft in the dim light left behind.

"Now, what?" The door swung open as soon as he had spoken. "Did you do that?" He looked suspiciously at Weasley, who still didn't look smart enough to have mastered wordless magic.

"Does it matter? Harry has things covered, let's get out of here." For a second, there was a look of the eager terrier about Weasley.

"You first." Malfoys hadn't got to where they were today by being the first to enter the fray, that much his father had taught him.

When they emerged, an eerie silence hung in the air. Draco was poised to dive for cover at the first sign of hostilities resuming, but then he spotted Potter and Hermione. She looked dreadful: her eyes were puffy and red, and the sleeve of her robes was wet. Her fingers were wrapped around her wand so hard the knuckles were turning white, but she didn't move.

Draco couldn't help noticing she didn't look at him; her eyes just seemed to slip over him before landing on the vastly more interesting furniture.

"Hi Harry. Thanks for stopping by." Weasley stuck his wand in his pocket again, showing unwarranted faith in the current ceasefire.

"Hi Ron. Malfoy." Potter nodded, and Draco gave a very quick nod in return, in acknowledgement of having saved him from grievous bodily harm. No doubt, it would give Wonder Boy another reason to feel smug.

"What a happy reunion. Can we go home now?" Hermione's voice was gravelly, and she still wasn't looking at anyone in particular.

"No," Weasley and Potter said at the same time.

"Not until the Wandless Wonder here explains a thing or two. Like the reason he didn't want you to go out with Krum." Trust Weasley to stick his big nose into other people's business. "No need to look at me like that. I got you a chance to say what you want without getting cursed to kingdom come, didn't I?"

Draco was damned if he was going to say thank you, even though it was merited. He turned to Hermione instead, who still wasn't looking at him.

"The only reason I told you that you shouldn't be with Krum is that he's not to be trusted. Nothing else. I don't give a fuck about blood anymore, but I've reason to believe he does. When he was seeing Pansy –"

"Do you really think I believe that? Really, Malfoy?" She hadn't called him Malfoy since he had come to see her about Pansy, when she had told him that she would want her friends to tell her things she didn't want to know.

He may never have a chance to become anything more, but Draco had believed they were friends at least, and although he possibly had gone about it a bit cack-handedly (thank you, Weasley, for sharing your wisdom), at least he had had good intentions.

Suddenly, he was as angry as Hermione had been earlier. "What the fuck do you want me to say, then? That Krum is a nasty piece of work and you'd be better off with me, if you must choose an ex-Death Eater – at least I actually love you! That would go down well."

For once in her life, Hermione was speechless. She opened and closed her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Wow." Weasley, never one to stay out of other people's conversation, butted in instead. "You actually meant that, didn't you?"

Draco deeply regretted not putting in the legwork to become an Animagus when he had been under house arrest after the war. Even if he became a ferret, it would have been preferable to staying in this room, having just poured his heart out in front of Potter.

"Yes." There was no point in lying. Even Severus Snape would have thrown in the towel at this stage.

Potter whistled. Hermione remained silent. Draco desperately tried to summon his wand with wordless magic so he could get the hell out of here, but the stupid wanker of a stick didn't budge. Perhaps it was stuck up Potter's arse.

"Ron, while I appreciate your help, there are some occasions it would be better if you just buggered off." Hermione had found her tongue.

"Lover boy here lost his wand, remember? You'd better not curse an unarmed man." Weasley kicked the rubble where Bletchley's desk had been. "I thought I saw it over here."

"Found it!" Potter triumphantly held up the wand, and Draco snatched it back.

"There had better not be any crap about Elder wands this time, Potter." His hand was shaking a little, but it felt good to hold his wand again.

"A simple thank you would suffice. Come on, Ron, let's push off." Potter touched Hermione's cheek briefly before heading towards the door, Weasley following closely behind.

He turned his ginger head over his shoulder just before stepping out into the corridor. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Intelligent conversation is out, then," Draco said. The relief of getting his wand back had worn off already, and he still hadn't looked directly at Hermione since the most severe violation of the Slytherin code since Pansy had declared that she did in fact loathe snakes.

However, Hermione seemed to have been staring at him ever since, if the snatches he had gleaned from the corner of his eyes were anything to go by.

Draco hated apologising as much as he hated being wrong, but there was nothing for it. Not if he wanted to get out of there alive, anyway.

"Look here, I'm sorry I went about it arseways. All I wanted to do was to warn you about Krum. You did say you'd want to be told, that time I asked you about Pansy..."

"Draco, I don't give a fuck about Krum or Pansy or Ron, or anybody else at the moment." The shock of Granger the Perfect swearing made him look at her properly, and then he couldn't look away. Hermione seemed to be lit from within, her eyes shining with hope and joy and something else he didn't recognise. During her attack on her own office, her hair had escaped its confinements, and now it was standing on end, sparkling with magic.

He couldn't imagine a witch more beautiful than Hermione right in this moment.

"Did you mean what you said, that you're in love with me?"

Somehow, Draco's slip of the tongue may end up making him happier than in his wildest dreams. Faced with those odds, he decided to risk getting the remainder of his eyebrows cursed off. "Yes. Do you mind? I didn't exactly mean to."

He had expected a response, perhaps a hex; he got his arms full of Hermione instead, a reassuringly solid confirmation that his feelings may be returned where words wouldn't have been enough. Of course, this being Hermione, he got words as well.

"I was so cross with myself, I knew you'd changed, but I thought you were in love with Pansy –"

"Pansy? You really aren't as smart as you're cracked up to be, are you?" That got him another kiss – this may well be the best thing that had ever happened to Draco. Still, a sensible man would check first, especially given Krum's propensity for offensive magic. "You don't care about Krum, then?"

"I do know when someone is trying to use my connections, Draco. It wasn't exactly the first time. Then I thought you may be jealous, so I didn't bother turning him down." She took in the charred remains of the outer office, and the blackened door to her domains. "It worked better than you warning me, anyway."

"That's all your doing – I didn't even have a bloody wand!"

"Be that as it may, I think we should cut our losses before someone comes to investigate where the smoke is coming from. I am supposed to be working here, you know." Hermione made a token effort to wriggle out of his arms, but Draco wouldn't have any of that.

"One day off sick won't kill you. Come with me." She was just the right size up close – he could bury his chin in her curls, pulling in deep wafts of the scent of her hair. Just like he belonged there.

"I can't – what will my boss say?" Hermione's mouth was drooping slightly, and Draco considered taking his chances and Apparating them both away, when a purple paper airplane appeared out of the fireplace. It headed for Hermione, who unfolded it. Draco read over her shoulder:

Don't worry about the mess, I'll take care of it. Unfortunately, an emergency office evacuation drill went out of control and your office is quarantined for the day. You'll have to come back tomorrow, though – Bletchley says the department meeting has been rescheduled.

Love, Harry

"I really have the best friends," Hermione said in an unsteady voice.

"Yes." Weasley and Potter did some things (other than defeating Dark Lords) very well, despite being intellectually deficient. "So where are we going?" The Manor was probably not an ideal place for their first date.

"Do you trust me?" Hermione was bubbling with joy again, the same exhilaration Draco could feel bursting from his veins.

"What sort of question is that?" Draco asked, and Hermione wilted slightly. "I'd trust you with my life, surely you must know that?"

"Then hold on tight!"

They almost let go as they hit the grass with a stumble, but Hermione recovered and Draco clung on to steady himself. The wind hit him then: a lungful of salt and specks of seawater gave him some clue to their whereabouts, although the specific location remained unclear.

"Where are we?"

"On top of the world – I thought it seemed appropriate." Hermione pulled him into the relative calm out of the wind, between the stone pillars Draco just noticed. They were on top of a grassy hill overlooking the sea, only green and blue and grey as far as he could see. It was glorious.

"We appear to be alone."

"Yes, I thought that seemed appropriate, too." Her smile was delicious, and Draco remembered that Hermione was good at absolutely everything. He could only hope he measured up.

THE END