The Price of Harry Potter

Chapter Four: Discoveries and Confusions

"Lucius!" screamed a female voice. "That girl is in your library!"

Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione cringed for a second, away from Draco's mother, away from the screech and the talon-like nails, away from whatever would happen when Lucius arrived.

And arrive he did, in seconds. Hermione extracted herself from her hiding place and walked calmly across the floor. She would not show these people that she was afraid.

"Stop screaming!" Lucius chided his wife. He turned to Hermione. Meet his eyes, she told herself.

"If you wanted anything you could have looked." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I would not want you to be bored. That would be a waste of your fascinating mind. Please help yourself to whatever you wish to read. I would have appreciated it had you requested my permission. Still..." he stopped to look at his wife. "No harm done."

And with a nod, he slipped his arm around Narcissa and steered her away.

Hermione stood, unsure, exactly where she had been standing moments before. She shook her head. What had happened? Lucius had walked away. Lucius appeared not to have cared in the slightest, other than the mild irritation that she hadn't asked him first. Well in that case, she would take advantage of her chance.

The library door shut again with a thud as Hermione walked purposefully over to the shelf.

* * *

By three o'clock Hermione was hungry and confused. The Malfoys were bad. She knew that in her heart of hearts, instinctively. They were allied with Voldemort. They wanted to destroy everything she loved. They were blackmailing her.

Why then did she find she was beginning to fall under their thrall? Was this a set-up? Were the books planted here for her to find? For her to realise that these people were not too different from her?

Deep in the desk she had found documents and plans recording Lucius's plans for better housing in the village and the educational reforms that he was trying to convince the Hogwarts governors to pass.

Were they left here for her to find? To mellow her feelings towards them? They had been so well hidden, deep in the desk among household accounts and cleaning bills. It wasn't as if they had been left lying on the table.

But maybe it was a double-edged sword. Maybe she was meant to find them because they weren't hidden.

Her head was pounding, blood throbbing through her temples as she tried to think. No, the Malfoys are evil, she convinced herself. This is some elaborate ploy!

But why am I beginning to believe it?

* * *

She walked, trancelike back through the maze of corridors to her room, her feet finding their way instinctively without the use of her mind. Her mind was still occupied with a titanic battle of hates.

Hatred of the Malfoys for everything they had ever done to her. Hatred of Harry for putting her in this position. Hatred of Dumbledore for dying before the great battle had begun. Hatred of the world.

She came to an abrupt halt when she found one of the objects of her hate leaning against the door to her room.

"What do you want?" she spat.

"Now is that anyway to speak to your host?" Draco smirked.

"Your parents are my hosts. You are just as insignificant as me."

He moved closer to her, his eyes locking on hers. "You aren't insignificant." The sincerity in his tone scared and thrilled her. "You are vitally important. We need you, you know that?"

"You do?" she whispered.

He stepped back. "Of course. Who else does Harry Potter trust?"

It felt as if cold water had been dashed across her face. Well, of course that was it. Why had she thought anything else? My use is in trapping Harry. They don't care for me as a person any more than anyone else. They will use me and discard me, throwing me back where they find me.

But they might allow me to get my family back, a traitorous part of her commented. Yes they will use you, but they will reward you handsomely.

Her face must have crumpled in disgust, in blatant hatred, because Draco took another step backwards.

"And we need you for your intelligence," he continued.

Hermione felt a smirk cross her face and suppressed it. This is more like it.

"When our master is fully restored to power a new order will begin. An order where people like you and I will be prized. Where intelligence and suitability will be respected. Where ambition and hard work will let you climb the ladder of success. You will be valued then as you never have been before."

"You forget," she murmured, suddenly aware of how close to her he had moved while he was talking, "that I am a Mudblood!"

His eyes widened in shock to hear her scream the word. For the first time in her life Hermione Granger saw Draco Malfoy lost for words.

Draco dealt with the problem by pretending that it didn't exist. His eyes were focussed somewhere over her left shoulder.

"Look, it has finally stopped snowing."

Hermione blinked at the change of subject.

"Shall we put on coats and go outside? You haven't seen the park yet, have you?"

She found herself shaking her head. Then Draco's firm hand was in hers and she was being dragged forcefully down the corridor. I was going to my room.... She thought helplessly. But somehow it didn't seem worth it to resist.

* * *

Minutes later Hermione found herself ensconced in charmed coats and scarves and her extremities inserted into hat and gloves and boots. Then she was outside and the cold air hit her full in the face, making her catch her breath in shock.

"Great, huh?" Draco beside her was in his element, his silver hair and eyes making him seem as if he was part of the landscape, taken from the snow and moulded into human form.

I wish he would melt then! she thought forcefully, before realising in exhaustion that she didn't wish that at all. That she didn't want any more death. That even though she hated this beautiful boy in front of her, his death would distress her

He smiled, the first genuine smile she had ever seen from him. It changed the shape of his face, he looked let pinched, less gaunt, and more human. He was beautiful, although she would never have admitted it out loud.

"Come," he said, and she trudged after him through the ankle-length snow, leaving an ugly trail of prints across the white lawn, like splattered ink across a new parchment.

"Wait!" she called after him.

He turned and spread his arms out, palms upwards.

"Isn't it fantastic? Doesn't it make you feel happy to be alive?"

No.

"I find very little that makes me happy at all." She replied, the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, evident in her voice.

Draco crossed back across the whiteness to stand by her, his footprints now making a loop in the snow. "I know what you mean," he said softly. "So you have to take all happiness you can when you find it."

The gentle tone of his voice touched her, before reality cut back in again. This is Draco Malfoy. "What are we doing here?" she asked abruptly.

"We are on our way to the open land so that I can show you what lives there."

Hermione sighed wearily, to tired to play games. "And that is what?"

"Shetland ponies. I thought we could feed them apples or something."

"Did you bring apples?"

"As a matter of fact I did." He sounded insulted. His tone thawed somewhat as he asked, "Would you rather just go back? I know it's cold. I expect my nose is turning pink."

The corners of Hermione's mouth turned up as she noticed the red tinge around his nostrils. "Yes it is," she said dryly. "And no, I don't want to go back to your house ever, so let's delay it for as long as possible. Take me to see these damn ponies."

He bowed slightly with an inclination of his head, and Hermione wasn't quite sure if he was mocking her. "As you wish."

* * *

Later Hermione was glad that she had followed him. The ponies were no bigger than large dogs, and they came over tamely when Draco and she arrived. When the first apples were produced the animals became more aggressive. Hermione's heart leapt in delight at the soft gust of exhaled breath that caressed her wrist every time a pony took an apple from her hand and bit down on it with a satisfactory crunch.

For a few scant minutes she forgot where she was and why she was there. She forgot she was with Draco too, until the apples were gone and she heard his sharply indrawn breath as the ponies refused to believe that there were none left.

As they turned to leave, the ponies followed closely, nudging at their backs with shaggy noses. Draco's gloved hand gripped her forearm. Seeing the flicker of panic in his grey eyes she stifled a smile. She remembered his hatred of Care of Magical Creatures. Was this perhaps not due entirely to who taught it, but equally by his unease around animals? She had to admit that she was not wholly comfortable with the way that they were being trailed by the ponies and that the grip of his fingers was pleasant. What am I thinking?

"Walk slowly," she told him. "If we run they will only become more excited and chase us. We might be trampled."

He did not acknowledge her words, but followed their advice, walking calmly towards the gate to the gardens. When they were out of reach of the ponies and walking back through frozen trees towards the Manor, his hand dropped from her arm. She made no mention of it. Neither did he.