Deny

Hermione opened her eyes to the blinding sunlight that streamed in through her bedroom windows. Wincing, she shielded her eyes and sat up slowly. He throat felt raw and it ached, and her mouth was filled with a bitter flavor, but other than that, she felt the best she had in months.

She rose and gathered some clothes from her closet, then moved out into the hallway and into the loo. She showered and dressed, and brushed her teeth twice, before heading towards the kitchen. After brewing a fresh pot of coffee and pouring herself a cup, she took it outside and sat on the back porch.

The sound of the door opening yanked her from her peace and quiet, and she tried not to stare at him as a very disheveled looking Draco took the seat next to her. His hands were locked around a mug almost identical to hers, and he nursed it as though it held the nectar of life.

"I'm sorry." She blinked and looked over at him.

"What? Why?"

"You told me you couldn't handle that cake last night, and I made you eat it anyway."

"Don't worry about it," she said dismissively, taking a sip of the coffee. She'd always loved how the tiny wisps of steam tickled her nose. "It was really good."

"On the way in, or the way out?" he asked. She made a face, but smiled.

"Both." He wrinkled his nose.

"Disgusting." They were silent for a long time, and then Draco turned to look at her. "You know, something's been bothering me since you went to bed last night."

"Do you think the meat was bad?" she asked worriedly. He frowned.

"What? No! I mean, you said you were reading 'Hogwarts, a History,' right?"

"Yes, and your point?"

"Did you just have that one particular book lying around? Where did you get it?"

"I-" she looked startled. "I can't remember." He nodded.

"I checked the boxes last night before bed, and then again this morning when I woke up, but they haven't been bothered, and I still can't open them. I know you didn't have that book just lying around - not when you had all of the other magical books locked away."

"You're right," she murmured, trying to concentrate on the book. "I don't remember even picking it up... all I remember is seeing it and thinking that it would be really useful, because I remembered that section on Rowena Ravenclaw."

"So that time you weren't thinking of your late husband?"

"No, I don't suppose I was," she admitted. "What do you suppose it means?"

"I'm not sure," he said, shaking his head. "First you magic away things that piss you off, and then you summon things you need." She stared out across the horizon, her mind trying to chip away at his sentence like a word puzzle.

"Something's missing," she said quietly. He frowned.

"How so?"

"There's something that we're overlooking," she said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I just can't put my finger on it."

"Well, obviously we're missing something - if we weren't, we would have figured all of this out already," he said, annoyed.

"I know," she said, ignoring his petulant tone. "But I have this feeling that it's right in front of us, and we're just not seeing it."

"When I find it, I'll feel free to rub your nose in it," he reassured her, taking a long sip of his coffee. She turned and frowned at him.

"Aren't you cold out here like that?"

"Like what?"

"Shirtless?" He looked down at himself and shrugged.

"Not really." Her eyebrows shot up.

"Malfoy, it's going to snow today. It's freezing out here."

"I'm not cold," he said. "Must be a warming charm that's keeping me-" his sentence dropped off and he turned surprised eyes to her. Her mouth was set in a grim line. "Perhaps we'd better get cracking at the books sooner than we'd thought." She nodded and stood, moving back into the house.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged from his room, dressed immaculately. He stood behind her chair and watched over her shoulder as she scrolled down through the different results that the search engine had come up with. She sighed.

"You're just doing that to annoy me."

"Of course, because you're the motivation for everything I do," he said calmly. She frowned and stopped scrolling to turn and look at him.

"I cannot concentrate with you right behind me, breathing down my neck like that!"

"Then move out of the driver's seat and let me take over."

"Right, as if you could do any better!"

"Afraid I'm right?" She stood up and gestured grandiosely at the chair she'd just vacated.

"Please, Master Malfoy, by all means, have my seat!" He bit back a smile and nodded curtly.

"Many thanks, Weasley. Now sit back and relax while I show you how it's done." She waited until he was seated comfortably, and then leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen. "You know that that's not going to bother me, right?"

"Famous last words," she muttered, eyeing the screen. He scrolled past something that caught her eye. "Wait! Go back up a little bit." He sighed noisily, but obliged.

"There!" she said excitedly, pointing to an entry. His eyes widened.

"The Ministry of Magic has a website?" he marveled. "And they didn't think anyone would notice, or be curious about it?"

"I don't think it's meant to be public," she mused thoughtfully. "Look at that - the entire Ministry database has been loaded electronically onto the web."

"We'd better start printing stuff out before they realize it's here and take it down." He started to click the print button, but she stopped him by placing a gentle hand on his arm. He gave a start at the contact, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I wouldn't be so quick about it if I were you," she murmured, removing her hand from his arm to point at the screen. "Look at the layout of the building down here. Doesn't something seem off to you?" He squinted and examined the layout more closely.

"Why do they have St. Mungo's wards labeled on here?"

"I think that this is supposed to be up. This information is meant to mislead people. Muggles doing a general search for magic will see this page, and think that someone has just created a fabulously intricate role playing game, or something."

"Role playing game?" he asked, confusion etched across his face.

"Don't tell me that in your infinite knowledge of all things electronic that you don't know what a role playing game is?"

"Of course I do," he lied, shaking his head. She snorted.

"I'll explain it later. Right now, I think we should keep nosing around this site."

"Why? It's obviously got falsified information."

"But it's got to be up here for a reason. If they really didn't want anyone to know anything, they would just keep everything offline, wouldn't they?"

"So you're saying that you think that there's actually some kind of information in there somewhere, and that we just have to dig it out?"

"Exactly." He turned at the excitement in her voice and was surprised to see her eyes sparkling. "Let's take a tour, shall we? Click on the virtual tour button."

"Why don't you do it?" he suggested, standing. She blinked in surprise.

"But I thought you wanted-"

"I can take over later and give your fingers a rest. Right now, it's past time for breakfast and I'm starving."

She grimaced as she sat down. "Food sounds especially offensive today."

"More coffee?"

"No, thank you." He watched as she clicked on a button, and then he left the room to find something to eat.

He had just finished his breakfast and washed the dishes when she screamed. "Draco! Draco! Come look!" He took off running and arrived in the study breathless, still reeling from the sound of his name coming so urgently from her mouth.

"Look! I've got something!" He watched as she picked up the notepad she'd been making notes on and began pointing at the screen. "On the opening screen, there was a little wand with sparkles coming out the end of it."

"So?"

"Then when I clicked on the virtual tour, the wand disappeared. I didn't think anything of it until the tour showed the kitchen, which is actually the kitchen at Hogwart's! Don't ask how I know," she added quickly, at the confused look on his face.

"And then what happened?"

"The wand hovered in front of the kitchen door for a second, and then it was gone again. The next time it showed up was three rooms later, when it was showing the hallway in front of the Accidental Magic Reversal department from the Ministry."

"Those bloody wankers!" he swore, his eyes lighting up. "They've combined Hogwarts, the Ministry, and St. Mungo's into some sort of online puzzle!"

"Exactly!" she agreed, nearly bouncing from excitement.

"Where did it go after that?"

"I haven't seen it again anywhere else, but there was something twinkling in the back corner of the library."

"Wouldn't people taking the virtual tour think it odd that there was a library inside a hospital?"

"They'd probably think it was gift shop, or something," she said dismissively, waving her hand. "They have a lot of puzzle books near the front."

"So now the question becomes, what do all of the pieces of the puzzle mean?"

"I think we can get access to some sort of Ministry information if we can figure that out," she said, eyeing her notes again carefully.

"But what sort of information?"

"I don't know, but I feel like Alice - curiouser and curiouser!" she laughed.

"Alice was an annoying little bint," he teased. "Wait, I guess you have something in common, then." She rolled her eyes at him.

"This could be a big breakthrough, depending on the information that they have available."

"An even bigger breakthrough, though, could be when you tell me how you managed that." He inclined his head towards the desk, and she looked down and gasped. A small, leather-bound book was in front of her, near the keyboard. She picked it up and ran her finger down the spine reverently.

"What is it?" he asked curiously. Unshed tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision.

"It was Harry's."

"Let me guess, it was inside one of those boxes full of magical books?"

"No, actually. It was inside the top drawer of my nightstand."

"What? Why would you leave such a thing out where-" his voice faded as he observed the warm expression she was wearing.

"It was something like a journal for him. He wrote all about us, and he wrote about his work in the field. Plus he used to draw these funny little-" she gasped, and then looked up at Draco. "Field notes! He worked for the Ministry! His notes could give us a clue!"

"I think I've already got a clue," he mused, his eyes wandering over her face. Something about the way that he was looking at her made her blush.

"What do you mean?"

"You were working on something yesterday, and suddenly a book you needed appeared. You're working on something today, and suddenly a book you need appears. Your subconscious is directing your power."

"Then how can it ever be controlled?"

"There's got to be a way."

"What about outside this morning? I'm pretty sure that wasn't me. You being warm wasn't something I needed, and besides, I was cold. Wouldn't I have made myself warm if it had been me?"

"Right," he agreed. She frowned and went back to scribbling questions on the notepad, but a strange feeling had begun in the pit of his stomach. His being warm wasn't something she needed, but her personality was one of those that might have given him warmth before her own, just because she was naturally selfless that way. He'd have to explore that idea more, and soon.

"Are you even listening to me?" she demanded. He blinked.

"What?"

"I've been talking for five minutes, and you've just been staring off into space."

"Five minutes?"

"All right, not quite that long - but it was close!"

"I was just thinking about something," he said, trying to shrug off her concerned look.

"Ginny?" she asked gently. His mouth fell open in surprise, but he caught himself quickly and nodded.

"Yes, Gin."

"I'm sorry."

An idea occurred to him. She'd been trying to get him to talk to her about Ginny ever since he'd shown up, even though he'd rebuffed her at every turn. Maybe he could test his theory about her wandless magic and satisfy her curiosity at the same time.

"Me too. Listen, I think I'm going to go and lie down for a bit; my head is feeling like it's about to explode. I think I've overloaded it - it's not used to this much action at one time anymore."

"I understand," she said sympathetically, nodding. "I get migraines all the time. Do you want me to wake you if I find anything else?"

"No, I'll just wait until I get up. Thanks, though." She nodded and went back to the computer as he left the room. What was he playing at, befriending her like this? She really was actually somewhat pleasant when it came down to it; he supposed that there were worse people he could be stuck with.

He was sure that as soon as they could figure out how she was doing the wandless magic, she would find a way to control it, and then she'd be able to teach him how to do it. All she needed was a boost of confidence, so she'd be secure in the knowledge.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

As soon as he emerged from his room he was aware of the sounds of her crying. He wandered from room to room looking for her, even opening her bedroom door a crack to peek inside. When he'd been through every room with no signs of her, he realized what must have happened. She'd decided that she didn't want him to see her crying, and somehow had made herself invisible.

Her powers were apparently evolving at a rapid rate, and he wondered why. What sort of ramifications would this newest manifestation of power hold? Would her magic finally show up on the magic detectors? Invisibility spells took a lot of power to cast, and even more power to maintain.

"Weasley?" he called, trying to make his voice gentle. "I know you're there, I can hear you." Her crying was silenced instantly. He cursed under his breath - had she done that on purpose, or had her magic struck again?

"You've gone and made yourself invisible, pet. I need you to concentrate on being visible again." When nothing happened, he sighed. Then, gently but with a stern note in his voice, he said, "Hermione." Suddenly she was there, huddled in the corner of the room, her cheeks streaked with tears.

He knelt down beside her and slipped a finger beneath her chin, easing her face up towards his. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, sniffling. "One second I'm doing research and feeling better than I have in months, and then the next second I'm a weeping mess."

"Obviously you didn't want me to see you crying, since you went invisible on me." He turned and retrieved a tissue from the box on the end table, then handed it to her.

"I don't relish the idea, no," she admitted, dabbing at her nose with the tissue.

"Can't think why," he said, smirking. "I see women cry all the time."

"Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "If this is going to be another one of those exaggerated speeches about the women who have fawned over you, you can just save your breath." He looked offended.

"Exaggerated? You saw those women at the mall, following me around! How can you say that? You cut me to the quick, woman!"

"And to think I didn't want to cry in front of you - gosh, why is that, do you think?"

"What brought you back?" he asked suddenly, his expression sobering.

"What?"

"What brought you back?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. She had her suspicions, but she wasn't about to voice them. Had it been his gentle voice calling her "pet" (which she was utterly sure that he hadn't meant to do), or had it been his firm intonation of her name? Either way, she had the distinct feeling that she was headed for trouble.

He arched an eyebrow as he helped her to her feet. She was in the habit of lying to him, and he didn't like it. He knew she wasn't telling him the full truth; it was obvious in the tone of her voice, the way her right eye twitched. He understood her motivations for lying, sure - they'd been enemies for over seven years - but now things were different, and they were working towards a common goal. She was going to have to learn to trust him.

But absent a Veritaserum potion or any sort of truth-inducing spells, he would have to rely on her to be truthful with him of her own volition. The thought made him frown. That was going to mean that he'd have to earn her trust, which could take time that they didn't have.

"I think I'll be fine on the sofa," she said quietly, moving away from his steadying arms. She sat down and closed her eyes. It was strange to feel a man after four years of no contact with one, and even stranger that she hadn't hated it. She hadn't been impressed by it, but she hadn't disliked it, either. His hands were soft and warm, and he'd been gentle with her. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs of thought away and opened her eyes to give him a weak smile. "So, how long should I expect teasing about this latest episode?"

He surprised her by sitting down in the chair across from her and giving her an intense look. "You're weak, Weasley. You've been starving yourself for too long, and your body isn't ready for the physical and mental demands we're placing on it."

"What are you saying?" she asked, feeling her lower lip tremble.

"We can't work on this until you're stronger."

"But I thought that you wanted to learn how to do it!" she protested, sitting up quickly. "And now I want to know how I'm doing it! You can't just get me started on something and expect me to leave it!"

"I can, and you will," he said decisively. "If we don't get this figured out by the time I'm a free man, you'll have something to work on when I'm gone. If you ever figure it out, you can look me up and tell me, but the fact remains that you're not healthy enough to undertake this kind of stress."

"I am!" she said, a defiant sparkle in her eyes. He shook his head.

"You're not. Your disappearing episode should prove that to you well enough. And you have to know that I will not help you continue to work on this until you are better."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"I'm already being hunted for one murder that I didn't commit, and I won't subject myself to another." She deflated and slumped back into the cushions of the sofa.

"So what now?" Inwardly, he sighed. The fact that she had admitted defeat was proof that she wasn't strong enough yet. Her passionate objection had given him a moment of hope, but she'd let go of it too quickly.

"Now you eat and get stronger, and quit moping around this funeral home."

"So what do you suggest? You're already cooking, and I can tell it's helping," she admitted grudgingly. "But if I'm too tired to sit at a computer and do research, what can I do?"

"We'll think of something," he reassured her. He stared down at the floor, trying to ignore the fact that she was regarding him with open curiosity. Finally his temper got the better of him. He looked up and snapped, "What? Why do you keep staring at me like that?"

"I didn't mean to stare," she said, her expression softening. His heart began thudding wildly inside his chest - the look she was giving him made him uncomfortable. It was so warm and open and utterly caring that it made his entire body ache. The look reminded him of one that Ginny used to give him. Gods, how he missed that woman. Missed seeing the copper hair fanned out on the pillow, missed hearing her laughter, missed having her comforting arms wrapped around him. He looked away from Hermione.

"I wish you wouldn't look at me like that," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning her eyes towards the window. How could she explain to him that in that moment, he'd sounded exactly like Ron? He'd reassured her and calmed her down when she was too wired, just like Ron used to do. The tone of Draco's voice had reminded her of her beloved husband, and for a moment, it was like having Ron back. For one blessed moment, she had been able to think about him without sadness.

Now that the moment was over, though, the sadness threatened to swallow her whole. She took a deep breath and steadied herself against the ache in her breast, then turned to look at Draco. He was still staring at the wall, his jaw clenched.

"Why don't we watch something stupid on the telly?" she suggested, trying to force her voice to be light. He nodded curtly without looking at her.

"Sounds like a plan." He moved to sit beside her on the sofa, where he could see the television, taking care not to sit too close. She picked up the remote and turned the television on, surfing through channels until she came across an action movie. She looked at him.

"Is this all right?"

"Fine." She put the remote down on the coffee table and snuggled into the back of the sofa.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Draco tried to steady his breathing, but it wasn't working. Sometime during the movie, Hermione had fallen asleep, and even though he'd put distance between them, apparently it hadn't been enough distance. She was now sleeping with her head in his lap.

She was warm and if he closed his eyes, he could just smell her floral perfume, and oh Gods, he'd better wake her up and move her before this train of thought continued down its path! Besides, this was Hermione! She was Muggle-born. He sighed, knowing that he'd abandoned that prejudice long ago. He was trying to think of good reasons to keep his hands away from her, when all he really wanted to do was feel her arms wrapped around him, the way Ginny used to.

The thought stopped him cold.

Ginny was still fresh in his heart and mind; how could he even consider the thoughts he was having? He ground his teeth together. It was only because Hermione was warm and the only woman he had access to right now, that had to be it. He'd never been attracted to her in the least, but now that had to be the reason he wanted to touch her. He missed Ginny. Well, he refused to sully Ginny's love for him by making a play on such an emotionally vulnerable woman.

He licked his lips, trying to get rid of the dryness. His throat had gone dry as well - oh, why hadn't he woken her up as soon as she'd begun to fall towards him? He poked her shoulder gently. When nothing happened, he did it again, more firmly this time.

"Weasley!" he croaked. "Wake up!"

"Mmmph," she mumbled, snuggling closer to him. He bit back a moan as her hand moved up to touch his knee. "Go back to sleep, Ron." He froze, and the tingling in his leg stopped abruptly. She thought he was her late husband?

"Wake up, Weasley," he said, a little more forcefully than was necessary. Her eyes flew open suddenly, and she found herself looking up into his smirking face. She sat up quickly and pushed herself away from him, balling up in the corner of the couch.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes wild.

"You were giving in to your urges," he said wickedly. She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. He hated to deceive her like this, but the more distance he could put between them, the better.

"Oh - Oh, Gods," she whispered, shaking her head. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" He blinked. Why was she apologizing to him?

"You're sorry?" he echoed.

"Look, it's not that I don't find you attractive, or anything," she began, shaking her head. His jaw dropped open, but she didn't seem to notice. "But -"

"You think I tried to-" he stopped for a moment, her words sinking in. A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. "You think I'm attractive!"

"No!" she gasped, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant!"

"You do! I always knew that you did, but damn, Weasley! To just come out and admit it like that..." he shrugged, smirking. She dropped her face into her hands.

"That is so not what I meant," she moaned. "Why must you take everything the wrong way?"

"You had your head in my lap, you squeezed my knee, and you told me I was attractive," he said, ticking things off on his fingers. "Is there any other way to take that?"

"Sweet Circe, Draco! I was asleep!" He frowned. She'd said his name again, and it was still having the same effect on him. It made him feel lightheaded. "I didn't mean to do those things!"

"Oh, but you forget, pet, you were awake when you professed your attraction to me," he pointed out. She blushed and stood up.

"Can we please just forget that this ever happened?" she begged, her back to him. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear!" she ran from the room, nearly in tears. His frown deepened.

When he was sure she was out of earshot, he muttered, "I know, and I can't figure out why that fact is bothering me."

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DENY