Assassins

Chapter Ten

"Pansy?" Ron scrambled to pull the sheet up over his naked body. "What the fuck is going on?"

She pursed her lips. She had suspected that he would revert to his holier-than-thou attitude in the morning, but she had hoped he wouldn't. She rose from her seat on the bed and grabbed one of the steaming cups on the dressing table. After taking a small sip, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're not going to cry rape now, are you?"

Ron bristled and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands in an attempt to wake himself up. His head was throbbing mercilessly, and the sun streaming in through the uncurtained windows wasn't helping any.

"What did you do to me?" She laughed, but it was such a bitter noise that it sounded like nails on a blackboard to Ron.

"To you? What did I do to you?" She took another sip of tea. Her eyes flashed with amusement as Ron made a big deal about pulling the sheet with him as he tried to get up from the bed. "Has it really been so long since you did this that you've forgotten the fundamentals? I knew that that bushy-haired brat wasn't taking care of business."

Ron stopped mid-step and glared at Pansy, despite the feeling of nausea that was roiling in his stomach. "I love Hermione," he snapped, his head spinning. "I don't know what happened last night, but it wasn't love, Pansy, and we both know it."

Pansy recoiled slightly, stung by his words. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know about you, boss, but it seemed to me as though you were rather enjoying it, love or not."

"I wouldn't really know, would I? You had me drugged, or something." Pansy snorted at this.

"Drugged? Oh, please. You're an absolute lark, do you know that? I don't have to drug you to get you into my bed."

"I'm going to throw up." He put his hand in front of his mouth as he gagged. Pansy rolled her eyes and gestured to the open doorway next to the bed. He practically ran from the room and slammed the door behind him, and seconds later, Pansy heard him retching into the toilet.

"You know, last night I predicted you would behave this way, remember?" she yelled toward the bathroom door. She heard his muffled response but couldn't decipher it. Then, in a mocking tone, more to herself, "No, I won't, Pansy! I swear!" She had made him swear on Merlin's name that he wanted her before they'd even left the pub. Fat lot of good that'd done her.

Several minutes later, he emerged from the loo, red-faced and soaked in sweat. He gripped the doorjamb for support and shot a glare in her direction. "This is never going to happen again, do you hear me? Never. It hasn't happened now."

"The hell it didn't," Pansy said acidly, taking a slow step towards him. When he didn't retreat, she advanced several more steps, until she was standing directly in front of him. "You know, you did some pretty kinky things last night. I don't remember you ever liking those sorts of things when we were in school."

Red as he was already, the crimson of his face seemed to deepen even more at her suggestion. Struggling to maintain his balance, he fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes.

"Why do you have to do this? Why couldn't you have just left me the hell alone?"

"You were the one who suggested drinks. What did you really expect to happen, that we'd skip off to the library and chat? I'm not Granger," she flinched slightly as she said the name, and moved slowly toward the bed, afraid she would frighten him.

"I suggested drinks?" he asked, sounding confused. Pansy reached out and began to massage his temples. He recoiled from her touch at first, but after several moments, he relaxed.

"I don't know why you're fighting this so hard," she murmured, her fingertips working against his aching skin. "We could be good together again."

"We were never good together in the first place," he said quietly. "Nothing should have ever happened between us."

"You sound remarkably similar to a red-headed boy I knew back in school," she said playfully, letting her hands rest gently on the top of his head. "He used to skulk around the castle behind me, sending anonymous notes to meet him in the Room of Requirement. He was convinced that we would be found out if we ever met anywhere else. I always wondered what would be so bad about us being open about our relationship."

Ron sighed and started to open his mouth but Pansy continued speaking in the same wistful tone.

"He left me, you know. The term was almost over, and we were all preparing for graduation - life after Hogwarts, and such. That last night we were together - he was acting so strangely - I had actually convinced myself he was going to ask me to -" She caught herself before she let the words fall from her lips, but it was a futile effort.

"Pansy-"

"Instead," she cut him off, "he said it was over, just like that. Afterward I couldn't even talk to him. He'd decided that he was in love with his best friend and had no place for someone like me in his life. He broke my heart."

Ron twisted to look her in the eyes. "I broke your heart? Look, you can lie to me all you want, but we both know that our breakup was the best thing either of us could have ever hoped for - even though we weren't really together in anything more than a physical capacity."

"How can you say that?" she demanded. "You know I keep my mouth shut when you get up on your moral high horse, like I always have. But right now-" She gestured wildly to the empty room. "Right now, it's just you and me. Are you honestly going to sit there and act like I meant nothing to you?"

Ron sighed and sat up slowly, effectively disengaging himself from her. For a few tense moments they stared at one another. Ron tried not to notice how pretty she looked - had always looked - in the morning. Her pale cheeks were rosy, and her tousled golden hair hung down her back. She looked like an angel - if angels could ever be foul-mouthed and self-servient.

"You meant - Gods, Pansy! I don't know what you meant to me! I didn't know that I meant that much to you! I thought we were - that we were -" His head stopped pounding, his stomach stopped rumbling, and he was seventeen years old again as she placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned toward him.

"You thought that we were what?" she asked softly, her fingertips tracing small circles on the skin of his shoulder.

"I thought that you were just doing what you did with me to get back at Malfoy for breaking things off with you!"

"Then why didn't I ever tell Draco that we were seeing each other?"

"I never knew that you hadn't," Ron answered truthfully, his pulse quickening as her fingers moved to stroke his neck lazily.

"Do you want to know what I think? I think that what happened between us scared you. I think that the only reason you went running to that bushy-haired bint is because it was what was expected of you."

"And I think that you've skipped a few bumps on your trip down memory lane, Pans. I left you and started seeing Hermione because at the time, you wouldn't commit to joining the Order. I couldn't be with someone who was trying to play both sides of the fence. I told you that." Ron shook his head and rose from the bed. Pansy watched as he pulled his shirt on, and then the meaning of his words hit her full force.

"He's really that important to you, isn't he?" He stopped buttoning his shirt and trained wide eyes on her.

"Who? Dumbledore?"

"Don't be stupid - we both know I was talking about Potter." Ron averted his eyes and continued buttoning his shirt, although Pansy noticed that his fingers were trembling now.

"Yes, he is that important to me," Ron said softly. "And to the rest of the Wizarding world, for that matter. This reaches far beyond my friendship with Harry, though. It's about human decency and doing the right thing - instead of just sitting back and waiting to see who will emerge as the victor." Pansy bristled and scratched her head with both hands, exasperated.

"I've clearly chosen a side! I work at the Ministry! I begged and pleaded to be a part of this project - I even shunned my cherished cousin Flora when she joined the death eaters! What more can I possibly do?"

"Why, exactly, did you do all of that? And don't pretend I had anything to do with it, because we both know that I didn't."

"I-I don't know why. Besides, what does it matter how I got here, as long as I got here?"

"The means are just as important as the end, if not more so."

"Really? So how do you justify your little team of murderers, then?"

"First of all, it's not my team, it's Dumbledore's. Hermione came up with the idea, we both planned it, and we took it to him. He chose the recruits, not us. Secondly, haven't you ever heard of 'an eye for an eye'?"

Pansy frowned at him. "I think you're leaving off the end of that adage."

"What?"

"It's a famous quote from Gandhi, right? It goes 'An eye for an eye will make the whole nation blind.' So if everyone practiced what you're suggesting to me, then everyone would probably be dead. Since when is it right to kill someone just because they've killed?"

Ron's jaw was hanging loose as he stared at her. He coughed and sputtered several times before gathering his wits and responding. "Since when are you so well read? And since when are you able to get up on a moral high horse?" He frowned and swallowed the thought that had popped immediately into his mind - Even Hermione couldn't have argued it better.

She pursed her lips as she shook her head. "Look, it's too early in the morning for this type of conversation. Why can't you just accept that things have changed, and we can get on with our lives - together?"

"I can't do that," he said softly. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" she demanded angrily. "You don't love her, you know. It's the same thing you feel for Potter - a sense of duty. That's a far cry from love."

"So are my feelings for you," he said flatly. She stared after him, open-mouthed, as he disapparated.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I can do this by myself, you know," Draco said acidly, watching Hermione fill the glass coffee pot with water from the tap. She flashed him a bright smile and shrugged.

"I just thought I'd help, since I'm not sure how much experience you have with Muggle devices - and since I don't want a repeat of this morning's near disaster."

"It didn't happen for lack of experience, Mud-" He stopped himself as her head whipped around and she fixed him with an icy glare. "Granger." He bit the name out as though it were painful for him and continued. "I make coffee the Muggle way every morning - I'm
just a little shaky today." Hermione flipped the switch on the pot after she finished filling it and sat down at the table, her expression unreadable.

"It's called withdrawal, Malfoy. Your body is protesting the sudden change in your alcohol intake. It's a common side affect for alcoholics going through detoxification. The yellow coloring of your skin is another." She gestured to the pale skin on his arm. He snorted and moved as though he was going to sit in the chair opposite her, but thought better of it and continued leaning against the counter, his palms splayed across the surface, and the signature smirk plastered across his face.

"I'm not an alcoholic by choice. This is the state I've been reduced to, thanks to your narrow minded ilk and their witch hunts." It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

"You're calling us narrow minded? You, who considers anyone without 'pure' blood to be totally inferior to you?"

"What would you call it when someone is punished because of their families' beliefs?"

"You tell me," she challenged, meeting his glare with one of her own. "Since for years you saw fit to terrorize the Weasleys for believing that Muggles and Muggle-born people with magical abilities are something more than chattel to be trampled on." Draco's jaw dropped slightly.

A scathing remark was on the tip of his tongue when the kitchen door swung open and Neville appeared, wearing a very strange look on his sunken face.

"Hermione, I think the chattel are getting restless." She turned away in an effort to keep from laughing, and covered her giggles with a few well timed coughs.

"Right," she said, standing abruptly. "Draco, when you've finished your coffee, we'll be at the north end of the castle, on the beach. Put on something you can sweat in, and try not to dawdle," she called over her shoulder as she followed Neville from the room.

"Put on something you can sweat in? What am I - a Holstein?" He muttered under his breath and took a long drink of his coffee, spitting it out almost immediately as it burned his tongue. "Fuck."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"It's bloody cold out here," Harry complained, bouncing from one foot to another in an effort to get warm. Ginny gave him a crooked smile.

"It's not that cold," she said, shaking her head. "And besides, I expect that we'll be warm soon enough – once Hermione gets out here and starts with us."

"Calisthenics," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "That's something women do when they go to work out and can't do real stuff." Ginny's eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

"Excuse me? And what exactly do you think 'real stuff' is?"

"Lifting weights, flying – you know, manly stuff like that! Not this nancy stretching nonsense."

"Well, prepare to become a member of the nancy tribe," Ginny replied sweetly, watching Neville and Hermione nearing.

"All right," Hermione said, pulling her hair up into a rather bouncy knot on top of her head. "Before we can do any heavy lifting, so to speak, we need to stretch, and then work on cardio." She bent over at the waist, and began touching her toes as the group simply stared at her, their mouths open wide.

"Hermione, what exactly does 'cardio' mean?" Ginny was looking at her as though she'd gone completely round the twist.

"Stop getting ahead of me." She snapped as her head disappeared between her legs again. "Stretch out those muscles or you'll be sorry later." When no one moved, she sighed.

"Al lright, but believe me, tomorrow you'll all be stretching like cats." She did a few quick pulls on her arms. "Cardio it is."

"And, what exactly is that?" Ginny piped again.

"It means we're going to run."

"Run?" Angelina echoed incredulously. "You mean as in running for Quidditch practice?"

"It's going to be similar," Hermione agreed, nodding. "But a lot longer, and a lot more intense." She turned her eyes towards her best friend, who was snorting with laughter. "What's funny about that, Harry?"

"How can your running be any more intense than what we had to do at school?"

"I don't know what your coach was making you do, Potter, but as I recall, Quidditch practices were always bloody fucking well exhausting," Draco drawled softly. Harry gave a start and turned to look at the blonde who was standing behind him, stretching his legs.

"Maybe that was why you lost all of your matches, Malfoy," Harry shot back, his eyes sparkling. "Because your ickle coach made you practice until you had nothing left to give on the pitch."

Out of nowhere Neville's hand had closed around Harry's arm and they were sprinting down the beach, the sand flying behind them.

"I"ll have to thank Neville later," Hermione muttered as she continued to bend at the waist.

"Yes, Granger, good idea. He's just saved Potty from another beating." Draco's face had gone from pale to crimson in a matter of seconds and Hermione could tell that he was just aching to tackle to Harry. She sighed impatiently and sat down on the beach, her legs spread wide as she bent forward, stretching her arms between her legs.

"What are you, five years old? Did you never learn how to handle a taunt with maturity?" She asked between deep breaths.

Ginny rolled her eyes, sensing that one of Hermione's diatribes was about to come spewing out, and grabbed Angelina's arm.

"Let's go. Can't let the boys think we can't keep up.

" "Right," Angelina nodded, taking off and pulling slightly ahead of Ginny. Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione.

"I thought you had a little pep talk with the rest of your dream team and they'd agreed to leave me the hell alone!"

"As I recall," Hermione snapped, rising to her feet. "You said the same thing."

"I can't be expected to just lie there and take it when Potter is constantly baiting me!"

"You can't honestly expect him to ignore you if you don't ignore him, too!" she said, her voice rising.

"I don't expect anything from the lot of you except what I've always gotten!" he shouted back, his face contorting with rage. "You've always treated me with contempt and suspicion, so why should things change now?"

"We treated you with contempt and suspicion because you gave us reason to! If you want to be treated differently, give us a reason to do it!" Before he could issue forth his scathing reply, she took off down the beach, jogging to catch up to the rest of the group.

"Mudblood," he growled, kicking out at the sand and realizing too late that it hadn't been a good idea. The sand floated up into his eyes and caused him to double over, scrubbing viciously at his face. When his eyes finally stopped watering, he watched as the team's forms grew smaller in the distance, and realized he'd be subjected to even more unpleasantness if he finished even half a meter behind Potter.

"Just keep thinking about the goal," he panted as he took off after her. "Think about returning to the manor." Deep breath. "The vault at Gringotts." He felt his chest begin to ache and his throat grow tight. It had been a very long time since he had done anything more than lift a snifter to his lips in the name of exercise, but still he pushed on, his hatred for all of them mightier than his own physical weakness.

"Whatever it takes. Just do whatever it takes to get it all back." A plan began forming in his head as his feet pounded on the sand and he caught up with Granger.

She tilted her head sideways, giving the slightest indication that she was aware of his presence. He ignored the roaring headache that the new activity was causing, and managed to move in front of her.

He could just see the back of Potter's head, and he was sorely tempted to laugh when he realized that the youngest Weasley was leading the group of runners. He made a mental note to be sure and pass through the common area at least once after dinner, to hear the verbal thrashing that Potter was sure to receive from her.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Brutal day!" Neville fell into the chair next to Angelina and let out a long sigh. From the slouched posture of the others, Neville knew he wasn't the only one whose limbs felt like mush. Harry grunted in the direction of the salt and Ginny interpreted this as a request.

"There's no need to resort to speaking in Troll, Harry," she said as she passed him the salt. Another grunt was his only reply.

"What's the matter with speaking in Troll?" Hermione asked, seating herself at the end of the table, where Malfoy was bent silently over his food. Harry grunted again.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Ginny amended, buttering a piece of warm bread. "I just thought that since not all of us understand it, Harry should use English."

"I wasn't speaking Troll, you ninny," Harry said, finally lifting his head. "I'm simply too tired to form coherent sentences."

"Amen, Potter." Angelina nodded her head wearily and let her fork drop from her limp hand back onto her plate. Neville - and even Draco, though he would have been hard pressed to admit it, had anyone been looking in his direction- began nodding in agreement.

"You're all soft," Ginny smirked, and nicked the bread from Harry's plate. "I would have thought a famous former Seeker would at least be able to beat a lowly Keeper in such a short run." Draco's ears perked up - he'd been waiting for this the entire day. It was the only thought that had sustained him through Granger's ridiculously organized schedule.

Harry managed a frown in Ginny's direction. "Hey! I was going to eat that!"

"Then you should have eaten it, instead of complaining," she replied reasonably, sinking her teeth into the bread. "It really wasn't that bad, Harry. I think you just like to complain."

"Or maybe since I haven't had Quidditch practice every day for the last several years, I'm just not as in shape as some people are," Harry answered, his voice tinged with anger. Ginny looked at him in surprise, and Draco noticed that even Hermione's fork stopped halfway to her mouth at his tone.

"It's nothing to get angry about," Ginny said, her eyes wide. "I just meant-"

"You were trying to say that I should have done better," Harry snapped. "Everyone always thinks I should do better – have you nothing else to do besides criticize me?"

"Now hold on just a tic," Ginny said, her anger rising. Draco glanced back and forth between them eagerly, enjoying the little scene that was unfolding. Neville and Angelina were staring hard at their food. Hermione made a move to rise from her seat, but stopped abruptly when she felt a hand on her wrist. She stared down at the pale hand in surprise before lifting her brown eyes to meet his cool grey ones.

"Don't," Draco whispered, his eyes still on Potter. "Let them work it out themselves."

Hermione frowned and clamped her mouth shut before yanking her arm away from Draco's grasp.

"You can't generalize and say that I have nothing better to do, because I've been off living my life, remember?" Ginny asked angrily, dropping the bread onto her plate and brushing crumbs off of her hand. "Just because you're overly sensitive about the way other people treat you doesn't mean that you can take it out on me."

"What?" Harry spluttered, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I'm not-"

"You are," she interrupted, wagging a finger at him. "Your little temper tantrums are what got you your reputation, Harry Potter, and I for one am not going to coddle you just to keep you from having them! You need to learn some self-control!"

"Self control?" he echoed angrily. Ginny pursed her lips and stared shrewdly at him, waiting for him to come up with some semblance of a response. When all he could do was splutter incoherently, she turned back to her food.

Harry, unable to take the uncomfortable silence their row had caused, rose from the table and stormed out of the room. Draco smirked and began shoveling his food into his mouth with renewed fervor, and Hermione frowned at him.

"I suppose you think that's funny, do you?" she hissed under her breath at him. He pretended not to have heard her, and glanced up.

"Hey, Weasley – pass the salt." Ginny shot him a brilliant smile as she pushed the salt down the table, and everyone gaped at the blond in surprise. Hermione chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. Was it worth it to trade Harry's peace with Ginny for any measure of peace between Draco and the rest of the team? She wondered.