Play Dirty

Play Dirty

Malfoy was watching her. Harry had noticed just before ten o'clock that his cold grey eyes had locked onto his best friend's figure and had been there ever since. And knowing Malfoy the way he did, it couldn't be good.

Malfoy was everything that a girl shouldn't be involved with. He was dangerous, prejudiced, cold, a Death Eater... No girl in her right mind would want to be with him. Maybe that was why so many lasses were attracted.

Harry's eyes followed his nemesis as he stood and flashed a smirk towards Ron. The redhead turned a faint shade of pink but his eyes dropped to the floor. Harry's brow furrowed. It wasn't like Ron to back down whenever Malfoy insulted him. Something was going on that Ron wasn't telling him.

Harry glanced quickly at Hermione. She was chatting with Parvati about something. She looked carefree, so why did Harry get the feeling that she knew what was going on and was deeply troubled by it?

Malfoy left his normal group of Slytherins and exited the hall. Harry turned back to Hermione. His decision was made in a split second, but he had to wait until Hermione left also.

Hermione sent the doors a furtive glance. She turned distractedly back to Parvati. Harry couldn't hear her, but he knew, as if by instinct, that she was making her excuses to leave. He looked back at Ron, who was sitting five places down from him. He was stubbornly watching his plate, seemed determined not to look up. Harry knew something was out of the ordinary now.

Hermione stood, seemingly out of the conversation. She shook her robes and strode towards the door. A moment later she was out of the hall. Harry drained his goblet, and followed.

He pulled his invisibility cloak on once across the threshold. Harry spotted Hermione crossing not the hall to the Gryffindor common room, but to the kitchens. Harry followed.

Hermione strode not to the portrait of the fruit, but to a door that was trying to pass off as a part of the wall. She slammed it open, ignoring the cursing the door emitted. Harry passed by it hesitantly.

Suddenly, his friend stopped. It was all Harry could do from bumping into her. She seemed to be listening. Harry was confused. He was listening, but not a single sound was to be heard. A bewildered look on his face that Hermione would not have seen, he turned to her. After a moment, she smiled.

"He's here."

Who was here? What was she talking about? Harry had no answers, so all he could do was follow her. They traveled for a few more minutes. Every so often Hermione would pause in her step, walk slower, and Harry almost bumped into her numerous times. They kept traveling further and further in. The walls were dusty and grey, as if they hadn't been cleaned in centuries. Harry was sure the house elves did not know about this part of the castle.

If he had to fancy a guess, he'd say they were a little further than Hogsmeade and about a quarter as deep into the ground as the Chamber of Secrets was. By the time she stopped for the hundredth (or was it the fiftieth?) time, she had to light her wand because all turned dark. Here, the walls were mildewed and damp, and in some places, water trickled down from the ramshackle ceiling. Harry was getting worried. They must have been walking this thing for hours!

Suddenly, a well-lit door appeared. Harry didn't almost make his presence known since he was traveling a far enough not to run into Hermione, but close enough to have light to see what was in front of him. She smiled a seemingly evil smile. Harry suddenly felt the sense that he should head for the hills and never come back again.

She slowly curled her fingers around the handle, placing her thumb on the lever and pushed down. The door swung open. Hermione stepped inside.

Harry crossed the threshold just before it closed with a snap. He looked around the room in surprise. It was a very comfortable space. The floors were tiled with marble and had placed on top, an arabesque design covering the face. It was made of thick, soft fibers and had many hues. The walls were covered in what looked like real moss and vines. Beneath the flora and fauna, chipping yellow paint could be distinguished. There as a lone wrought-iron clock on the wall to tell the time. Had it really only been twenty minutes since dinner ended?

Harry's eyes passed to the furniture. There was a futon on one wall and an armchair in a corner. There was a small table near both. What was even more shocking was Draco Malfoy was in the recliner. Harry was intrigued.

Malfoy gazed at Hermione for a few moments. Finally, he asked, "What took you so long?"

Hermione smiled softly. "In order to keep my friends from finding out about our little, uh, liaison, I have to exhume a certain level of caution. I'm sure you had to do the same."

"Hmm." Draco didn't say anything more on the subject, instead, asking, "Where are we at in the game?"

"I believe we're at the section of Le baiser, la Touche, le Coup, l'Amour."

"Really? I thought it was just Le baiser, la Touche, le Coup."

"No, l'Amour is a part of it as well."

Harry frowned. Now he was concerned on top of intrigued. He didn't speak a word of French, but those didn't sound too good.

"Well, I suppose we'd better start. I've got that stupid essay McGonagall assigned us. It's due tomorrow, as you may well know." Malfoy looked at the girl in front of him reproachfully, as if it were her fault he had homework to do that had been assigned two weeks ago.

"I know; I finished it the day after it was assigned," Hermione answered brightly. Then she added, in a more condemning tone, "That's what you get for leaving it so long."

"Ah, but if I hadn't, think of all those...sessions we didn't miss out on."

"If you don't get it done, we'll miss far more because you'll be in detention."

"Yes, that is true. Which brings us back to getting this session done?"

Hermione smiled. Harry felt extremely confused. "How do you want to start?"

Draco looked thoughtful for a while. "How about this?" In two strides, he crossed the slightly larger-than-small-sized room and took Hermione into his arms. He seemed to be whispering something in her ear. Harry didn't know what was being said.

Hermione smiled and then gaped at what he said, as if she couldn't believe what he was telling her. She smirked and turned to whisper something into Malfoy's ear. He responded by growling. Then, he kissed her with a fierce passion. It looked as if he was searching for buried treasure down in her toes. Hermione responded with equal fervor. Harry couldn't believe his eyes.

Malfoy's hand ran its way up her side and cupped her breast. Hermione moaned, and the kiss grew hotter. Their tongues were clashing, rubbing together, twisting and turning. Harry could only watch with a sick fascination. Fascination at how two mortal enemies could grope, feel, taste, and maul each other. Harry felt sick watching the two of them.

His best friend and hated enemy moved onto the couch. Harry slowly crept to the door, trying his best not to make a sound that might alert the two...whatever they were to him...to his presence. At the moment, trying to get away as quickly and as quietly as he could was the first thing on his mind.

Harry made it to the door, trying unsuccessfully to block the moans and gasps out of his mind. He pushed the button down with his thumb. It was locked. He closed his eyes, trying to latch onto his last bit of sanity left. It was hard, but he finally managed it.

Harry sat down on the floor, his back to the couple, and tried to think about something else. He eventually got to a point where the animalistic noises were slightly lower, almost to the point of being blocked out. Just almost.

He looked at his watch. They had been here for twenty minutes already. Neither of them sounded close to stopping.

"Draco!" Hermione cried. Harry winced. Now, he wished he hadn't followed Hermione. But then again, he was just looking out for her best interests! Really, he didn't know. And if Ron did know, he never said anything.

"Genero defendo silex silicis," two voices rang out. There was suddenly a flash of light and everything returned to its place. Harry slowly stood and turned around in an equal pace. Hermione was clutching her robe to her body. Draco had his shirt and trousers on, already. Both were staring at a small object.

Harry paced as quietly as he could to the mysterious thing. He bent over to look at it. It appeared to be a ring made of gold and had three stones: two emeralds and one ruby. Harry frowned.

Hermione reached and picked it up. She had put her clothes back on and tied her slightly mussed hair back. Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Think Potter will appreciate all the hard work that went into this little ring?" Malfoy asked, a slight cynical note to his voice.

"Something was 'hard' all right," Hermione muttered. To Malfoy, she responded loudly, "He doesn't know about what we are doing, Draco. So I hardly expect him to realize that our effort wasn't one that had to be worked on extensively."

Malfoy smirked, "Yes, it didn't take us long, did it? I must say, for a Muggleborn, you know what you're doing."

"We Muggles and Muggleborns do have ideas as to what we should do occasionally," she replied loftily.

"You have books on the subject, don't you?" Malfoy was smiling at Hermione, rather than smirking, knowingly.

Hermione blushed a bit and replied, "I have no idea as to what you're hinting at."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. This was his friend? This was the girl who never dated, avoided the dating scene like the plague, and had only ever been on a date with two boys in her life? Harry suddenly had the impression that he didn't really know her at all.

Hermione walked to the door and unlocked it with a wave of her wand. She turned to Malfoy and said, "Get that essay done. We'll have another session in a week from Thursday." She opened the door and left, Harry hot on her heals. Before he got to far away, Harry looked back at Draco (something that Hermione never did) and he saw a look of intense desire, longing, lust, and was that love? Out of all the events that had perspired that night, that scene was what shocked Harry the most.

The next day, Harry tried to act as if everything was normal. He was polite to Ron, pleasant to Ginny, and put up with Lavender and Parvati's chattering at the breakfast table. But he had a distant gleam in his eye, his speech was stilted, and he could not concentrate to the conversations going on around him. Dissatisfied, he got up from the breakfast table and left the Hall. Since it was a Saturday morning, he did not need to rush off to a class. Instead, he went to the lake and stood there pondering the position his life had taken to.

So caught up in his thoughts, he did not notice when Hedwig dropped a small object wrapped in the brown shipping paper Muggles often used for postal services. He didn't notice, as well, when Hermione approached him. He jumped when she tapped his shoulder, and handed out to him, the package that had forgone his notice. Harry took it from her, as if in a daze, and she sighed.

Hermione sat down on the ground at his feet. Harry slowly did the same. Neither said a thing for several minutes. Their silence was only broken when Hermione said, "And now you know."

"Know what?"

"Know what I've been doing."

"Don't you mean 'who you've been doing'?"

"I don't deserve that, Harry. Dumbledore was the one that put the situation to us. What we do, Harry, is a form of sex magic that allows us to make protections for those we care about greatly. So far, Dumbledore has one made of gold and garnet, McGonagall has a necklace made gold and sapphire. Snape has a ring made of silver and onyx, Remus has bronze and I think the gem is amethyst. See, they wear them and are protected from lots of different hexes and curses. We are proud of what we do Harry."

"Were you making one for-?"

"Yes, we were making one for you. Ron got his solid gold and diamond faced watch two weeks ago, Ginny has a ring similar to yours that looks like it's a Class of Gryffindor ring from Madam Malkin's. Malfoy and I have different ones, too."

"Oh."

"Ron found us out too. He used your cloak the same way you did. I flat out told Ginny. But none of the Slytherins, save Snape, know. I have to swear you to secrecy, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Secrecy was never the issue. I just feel as if I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

"You still know me. I'm just Draco's girl now."

"Hermione?" Harry called out to her after she had got up and taken some steps to the castle.

"Yes, Harry?"

"What do you call that game you play?" Harry turned and looked at the girl standing just behind him.

Hermione smiled softly. Draco and she had come up with the name too use during arguments in front of others to let each other know of their plans. "Play dirty."

"Is that to describe our side or Voldemort's?"

Hermione gave no answer, just smiled as she walked away.

Harry turned his head back to the lake. He pondered the lack of answer, and finally came to the decision that maybe, just maybe, both sides had to play dirty to get ahead of the other.