And We Have Sinned

And We Have Sinned

Chapter Two: His Dance of Trust

Written by: Dizzy

Disclaimer: I own exactly shite.

Author's Notes: Moving this right along. There's a bit of meaningless crap here, but you understand it's necessary. I'm afraid my time here is short. I will be very busy what with the Christmas holiday, and after that I have mere days before the new semester of school starts again and I have to devote all my energies to my studies or I fear I won't graduate (horrible, awful thought that one). But I will continue to update, but not with the frequency I have been on my vacation.

"I once knew a man who would have trusted me with his life."

"What happened?"

"I killed him."

~*~*~*~

If she was expecting some grand apology for years of torment, some wonderful display of well-wished thankyous, she was disappointed. Horribly so. What Hermione got was not the gratitude of a boy who owed her his academic excellence, but the same indifference he showed everyone and anything.

He gave her a glare as she took the seat across him, one black-booted foot propped on his knee.

"Good work today," she offered. He only grunted in reply. Sighing, she shook her head, wondering what she HAD expected to happen. Surely not gruff indifference, surely not the usual glare? It was exactly what he was supposed to do being Draco, but she had wanted him to do something different for once.

She began taking out her books, quills, and ink, but he laid his hand on hers to stop her. His grip was firm but gentle, and she raised her head to look at him.

"What?"

"I don't want to study here."

It was then that she noticed that he had taken nothing out, that he had simply been waiting for her to arrive.

"Then you don't need a tutor anymore?" She couldn't say she wasn't relieved. Working with him had been enjoyable for a brief period of time, but that had to be because there was an utter lack of intelligent conversation anywhere else in the school. Working with him long-term was bound to be a horrible experience.

"I didn't say that," he replied, standing. "I said I don't want to study HERE." He made a gesture to indicate the library.

Hermione sat silently for a moment, confused by what he was saying. He didn't want to study here? But this was the library - the quiet, nice smelling place where you were supposed to study, where books were easily accessible. . . . How could he not want to study here?

"Wh-Why not?" She gave him the expression she had reserved especially for the criminally insane, normally Ron. Draco sighed.

"It's dirty, it's dusty, and that woman makes me nervous." He looked to Madame Pince, who had fixed him with the customary glare given to those with an apparent lack of purpose in her library.

"But where else do you study?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Anywhere else really," Draco shrugged. "Usually outside."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the window. "But it's dark out," she said after a moment. Draco held up his wand, raising an eyebrow. "And it's cold," she continued, her fingers gripping the desk to prevent him from physically pulling her from her sanctuary. Draco held up his cloak.

"It'll be refreshing." He motioned for her to get up. "Come on."

"But . . . I like the library."

Draco sighed at her stubbornness. He reached down and gently pried her fingers from their death grip on the desk, and then all but yanked her to her feet. "Live a bit Granger," he snapped, grabbing her bag and shoving it at her chest. He then grabbed her elbow and started pulling her to the door.

Hermione did everything she could to stop him. She dug her heels into the carpet, she tried to get her arm away, she cast beseeching looks to Madame Pince who sat, safe, behind her large oak desk and did nothing. None of this helped her; Draco Malfoy was stronger than she was, he was scarier than she was, and he was used to getting what he wanted and used to changing what he didn't want. Right now, he didn't want to study in the library.

"Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly as he pulled her along, blushing furiously at the looks people cast in their direction. She tried desperately to get her arm out of that iron grip, and worked equally as hard to keep up with her long-legged guide.

"Outside," he said. "Where I usually study."

"You? Study?" she replied incredulously.

He cast her a look over his shoulder. "You give me too much credit Granger," he smirked. "I don't stay in the top three by sitting around on my arse."

"So you study standing," she said jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood. But he didn't lessen his pace and he didn't turn around and take her back to the one place she felt safe. He continued to pull her along, down the hallway, to the main entrance hall and out the front doors onto the expansive Hogwarts grounds.

It wasn't so cold out, the sky was clear, and there was a bit of a breeze. All in all it was fairly mild. He continued to drag her along for a bit longer, finally stopping under a large willow tree that sat near the edge of the lake.

"Here we are," he pushed aside hanging green tendrils and gestured for her to go inside. Hermione wondered briefly if the foliage would eat them before she stepped under the canopy of green.

"This is where you study?" Hermione took out her wand. "Lumos."

She saw Draco nod in the light as he plopped onto the ground, bringing his bag out from behind the trunk of the tree and leaning against it.

She searched for something to say. "It's . . . nice," she offered finally, and it was nice. The tree was fairly old; long strings of leaves touched the ground and were wonderfully thick, forming a sort of natural tent around them. "Do you come here every day?" She sat tentatively on the ground across from him, crossing her legs Indian style before pulling out her books. She set her lit wand on the ground beside her. Draco had stuck his in a knot on the tree and was already turning pages.

"Unless it rains," he answered. "No one else comes out here."

"Oh." She began flipping pages absently. "Why were you in the library that day, then?"

"What day?" He didn't look up, busying himself arranging his notes beside him as he stretched out his legs.

"The day you stole my book," she said, looking up at him.

"It was probably raining," he shrugged. "How should I know?" He picked up his own book, propping it on his thigh before turning it to the chapter the test dealt with. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't," Hermione said, sighing. "It was just bugging me. I never see you in there."

"Because I'm always here," he pointed to the ground. "It's more comfortable out here."

"So you're a fan of the outdoors?" She placed her own book in her lap.

"I'm not a fan of anything," he said shortly, sighing. "Can we start already?"

"Sure." She looked at the page. "Where would you like to begin?" Draco shrugged, and she sighed again.

"Well the test is on Ministry laws," she said, scanning the page. "And there's heavy emphasis on the opposition groups dealing with them." She looked up.

"What kind of opposition groups?" He actually sounded interested.

She turned the page and he did the same.

"Well there's one against the banning of traditional wizarding practices, there's another on the treatment of certain wizarding world minority groups..." She scanned further.

"Why don't we start with...." he paused, and she saw that he was smirking, that his eyes were twinkling, "...the censorship of the dark arts in wizard schools?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge. She glared at him. "I think we could come up with a few interesting view points. Don't you?"

~*~*~*~

Two hours later they were still arguing, rather loudly and forcefully. She was red-faced and vehement, and he the picture of calm, grinning as if he was having the time of his life. This only served to fuel her fire.

"That is RIDICULOUS, you can't teach that to a group of underage wizards."

"And why not?"

"BECAUSE it's DANGEROUS."

"You certainly didn't have any objections to old Moody demonstrating the curses in fourth year," he pointed out.

"But he didn't teach them to us! Could you just imagine what it would be like if a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year-old kids knew how to do the Imperius Curse?" Hermione replied angrily.

Draco chuckled at the image. "I still think it's a necessary part of our education."

"Only if we all wanted to be Death Eaters!" she spat. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"The best way," he started slowly, "to fight your enemy is to know how he's going to attack." His eyes caught hers and he stood up, crossing the short distance between them in a matter of seconds. She was frozen under his gaze, wary and unsure. He knelt down in front of her.

"Now if I were...let's say a snake," he began softly, "I would wait, tense and coiled...and then I would strike." He lunged at her, making her fall backwards into the grass, but then he reared back, chuckling.

"Now if I were the intended target and I knew nothing of snakes I would probably get bitten." He began circling her, lecturing. "But if I were EDUCATED about snakes, if I had been taught how to handle them then I would know how fast and how far a snake can attack. I would know that most can only lunge a certain height, can only sense certain things. Most of all I would know how to prevent being bitten." He knelt down again, behind her now, his breath hot against her ear. "That is the reason for education."

Hermione sat there frozen, unsure of what to do. She wasn't used to having him this close, wasn't used to feeling like perhaps she was actually wrong about something. She closed her eyes slowly, and he went on.

"If you knew how to use the Imperius Curse, if you knew how it worked, then you'd be on level playing ground with the enemy, wouldn't you?" He was still close to her; she could feel the heat of his body against her back. He was whispering in her ear, moving tiny strands of hair as he spoke. "That is why we should teach students not only how to defend themselves," he continued. "But how to AVENGE themselves." She heard his footsteps on the grass, and she opened her eyes.

Draco was gathering his things.

"Wh-Where are you going?" Hermione asked, closing her book.

"We're done here right?" He was smirking again, the bastard! He put everything in his bag and then slung it over his shoulder. "Be here tomorrow, but later. I have Quidditch practice." Hermione nodded absently. She watched him push aside the curtain of green and he turned back to her.

"Don't worry," he said, continuing to smirk infuriatingly. "I haven't learned how to do the Imperius Curse yet."

~*~*~*~

He found her asleep, propped against the tree, her book open in her lap. He stared at her for a moment, his stomach clenching. She looked so peaceful and innocent. Draco swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and knelt down.

"Hey," he said softly, nudging her. She opened her eyes blearily. "Don't you know you shouldn't fall asleep outside in the dark?" She blinked. "There are bad men about."

"Are you one of them?" she murmured groggily.

Draco said nothing, but looked away. "Sorry it took me so long." He set his broom onto the grass, sitting across from her. "Practice ran a bit later than I'd thought."

"It's okay," she yawned. "What time is it?"

"Only nine."

"How did you do on your Transfiguration test?"

Draco silently reached into his bag and drew out the test scroll. Circled at the top was his grade: 97%.

"Very good." She stretched tiredly, and again he looked away. "What did you want to go over today?" she yawned, reaching for her bag.

"I don't know."

"Well do you have tests in any of your other classes that you need to prepare for?"

Draco thought for a moment. "I don't think so."

Hermione was at a loss. She looked at her things. "Well..." she sighed. "I don't know what we can do."

"How about we just go over things," he said finally. "Review and such." She nodded.

"There's a history of magic test next Friday," she said, taking out her book. Draco shrugged and followed her lead.

"I don't really see the point of that class," he commented. Hermione gave him the criminally insane look again.

"Don't see the point?" Her voice was a little hysterical; the thought of such a thing seemed to be inhibiting her breathing.

"Well, yeah," he thumbed the pages a bit. "It's all just useless stuff that already happened anyway."

"Haven't you ever heard of learning from the past? By knowing what has been done we keep from repeating the same mistakes."

"Works in theory," Draco argued, "but never in practice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well look at the Goblin Rebellions, the Revolutions and the Revolts. There's a new uprising every few hundred years or so about the same meaningless crap." He shrugged. "I'm not a goblin so what do I have to learn from that?" He had a point, but she would never admit it.

"Even if it's not necessary it's interesting," Hermione said finally. Draco shrugged.

"Depends on the person."

"Well, I happen to find history fascinating."

"Oh, so that's why you yawn every five minutes during class," Draco drawled. "It's your interested expression!"

She glared at him. "I most certainly do not."

"Don't you?" Draco smirked. "The other day I thought you were going to fall over in your seat from sheer boredom."

"Well it's not taught in the best manner," Hermione muttered. "I can't help it if he just drones on and on and on."

"So you admit that it's boring."

"I admit that Professor Binns is boring. Not the class," she said stubbornly.

"Fine. Fine," Draco shrugged. "But I know how you really feel."

She gave him a glare before returning her gaze to the book in her lap. "Why don't we start with the establishment of the Ministry and work from there?"

Draco shrugged once more, but then nodded at her exasperated expression. "Okay, go ahead. Start us off then."

This she did, and Draco found that she was right about one thing: the history itself was fraught with interesting snippets, snippets the professor who taught it chose to leave out. When Hermione Granger lectured on the same subject, it took on a whole new light entirely. Draco felt his stomach clench again as he listened to her ramble on about the odd quirks of the establishing bodies, and wished desperately that he was someone else, anyone else. Anyone who wouldn't have to hurt this girl.

~*~*~*~

They met every night for two or three hours at a time. When it rained they went inside, when it snowed they lit fires; they always enjoyed their time together, though neither would ever admit it.

For the first time in her life Hermione was discussing things that actually meant something to her, things that she could ramble on about for hours at a time. The best part was she always knew that Draco would never tell her to give it a rest; she knew that he would simply lean back and watch her with that look, propping his head on his hands and offer a glib comment once in a while. For the first time in her life Hermione was arguing with an intellectual equal, someone who was opening her up to new viewpoints and ideas...and she was enjoying every minute of it. Too bad it had to be with Draco Malfoy.

Draco himself was enjoying it simply because he knew it wouldn't last. The day he dreaded was drawing near as the Christmas season reared it's ugly head. Their break after exams was on the horizon, and the day when he would have to act was coming closer and closer.

As they sat under the tree, he knew this companionship, this conversation that he had been deprived of through so much of his life was going to end very soon. And as he looked at Hermione on what would be their final study session, he felt his heart clench. However, what had to be done had to be done, and so he forced himself to begin.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" Draco looked up at Hermione, who nodded.

"My parents want to see me," she said.

"Would you-" he took a breath, almost gripping his chest as he tried to keep himself from saying the words. But he had to say them. "-meet me here on the final day? Right before we leave for the train?"

Hermione looked surprised. She blinked. "Why?"

"I-" he tried to look sheepish, embarrassed, but both emotions were unfamiliar to him. "I have a gift for you." Hermione sucked in a breath; he heard it whistle between her teeth, saw the shock on her face. He waited, tense and nervous. She had to come. She had to, or he didn't even want to think about what would happen if she didn't. Several moments stretched to eternity as the girl debated with herself. He could see the conflicting emotions on her face as she came to a decision, finally opening her mouth to speak.

"All right. I'll meet you."

"Good." He stood up. "Be here an hour before we leave for the train, all right?"

Hermione nodded and watched as he pushed through the curtain of leaves and disappeared into the night.

A present. He was giving her a present! She felt her heartbeat quicken, a smile coming over her face. She would be here. She knew that much.

~*~*~*~