Black, White, and Grey

A Bet and an Argument

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Meri kept fussing over me until Elizabeth was born. Then she spoiled my daughter rotten, just as Elizabeth's grandparents did. I wish they were here now, wish they could still spoil her, but now there's only her godparents to do that, and they're both trapped here with us.

I'm writing by the daylight that sifts through the cracks in the floorboards and the door. Weak, but enough to see Draco coming over, enough to write by. He looks over my shoulder at what I'm writing, his hands resting lightly on the tense muscles of my neck and shoulders, gently kneading.

He doesn't say anything, merely kisses my hair, his arms sliding forward, tracing along my collarbone before slipping back to my shoulders. There isn't enough privacy here to do anything, and that's frustrating for us both.

It wasn't always that way. We used to have all the privacy we wanted. Sometimes more than we wanted. Like the time we both had detention, less than a week after I met Tom and the others. Detention with Snape and his uncertain schedule.

~~~ ~~~

I was once again scrubbing out cauldrons, this time on a Wednesday night, with an unexpected fellow detainee. Draco had complained bitterly to Snape about the indignity of scrubbing out cauldrons by hand, of course, and received merely a raised eyebrow. Even his favorite students don't get the best treatment from Snape during detention.

We all looked up at a knock on the door, and Snape growled as he went to open it, leaving the papers he'd been grading on his desk. McGonagall was there, her face as pale as snow. "Severus. It's Meri. She's having another episode."

Whatever had McGonagall worried about her friend made Snape curse, and flick his wand at the papers before speaking to us. "Those cauldrons are to be cleaned before either of you leave. And no blood on the floor." He plucked the papers out of the air where they hovered expectantly, turning to leave.

Wait. He was trusting us to not only complete our detention without him there to supervise, but also to be civil in each other's company? Well, maybe not civil, but he was trusting us not to kill each other, apparently.

"Sir? Where are you going?" Draco was braver than I at that moment, to question Snape. The man had been unbearable since that Saturday, and I suspected I knew why, though I would not mention it to anyone, even if I was correct.

Snape glared at him a brief second before he stalked out, following McGonagall, not deigning to answer the question.

"Congratulations, ferret-boy. Why do I suspect you've earned us both another detention?" I glared at Draco as I sat back on my heels, and the damnable boy simply smirked. Of course, he should have only earned himself another detention, but with the mood Snape had apparently been in, I wouldn't put it past him to have given us both another detention.

"Because I just did, knowing him, Granger." I could have cheerfully throttled him right then. Oh, the wonders of murder...

"No 'Mudblood' today, Malfoy?" As much as I hated that word, I was surprised when he didn't use it. And to use my name, in any fashion? Hmm. Odd.

He shrugged, and returned to scrubbing out the cauldron. Whoever had used that one had baked on the potion in a Nevillesque fashion.

"Why not?" I continued working, though my mind raced to figure out what was going on.

"It's old, and I haven't come up with a suitable substitute." He kept his attention off of me, an irritated frown on his hands... Oh no, not again! Malfoy was in no way attractive, and he's a complete and utter prat! Besides...

"It's hard to think up an insult, though, when I'm still trying to figure out how the bloody hell a Mudblood like you has managed to scramble my wits." His conversational tone and blunt statement caught me completely off-guard.

"I... What in blazes are you talking about?" What did he mean I scrambled his wits? He's supposed to be the conniving, unaffected Slytherin, the one who'd be manipulating me and scrambling my wits.

He stopped scrubbing again, and looked over at me. "You do remember that incident outside this classroom just over a month ago?" His expression told me he had hoped I wasn't that dense. Hmph. As if. I nodded, and he continued. "I always thought of you as nothing more than an annoying Mudblood know-it-all. Yet when you tripped - and you mangled my feet in the process , I might add - I had rather undeniable and inarguable proof you were a bit more than that, though you were still a Mudblood, and still annoying."

There was a frown of annoyance on his face as he paused briefly. "I didn't plan to kiss you, it just happened, unfortunately. Though I meant it when I said you tasted sweet. Like honey and clove." I blushed at the compliment, and opened my mouth to say something, but he kept talking, ignoring me.

"Since then, I can't seem to get you out of my mind, not for long. And that..." He trailed off, the frown deepening. "I want you out of my thoughts, Mudblood. Out of my mind." His tone was viciously low, calculated to be cruel. When you're used to it coming, day in and day out, it doesn't effect you very much.

"Look, Malfoy, you don't get off that easy." I was in the mood to bite his head off, and scrubbed ferociously as I spoke, my eyes snapping. "You weren't the only one thrown for a loop that day. You're supposed to be Malfoy ferret-boy, my worst enemy, not a fit young man with a face too handsome for your own good. You want me out of your thoughts? Then get out of mine, ferret-boy."

I could sense him staring at me, but ignored him in favor of scrubbing the next cauldron. The sooner they were done, the sooner I could leave.

"You think I'm handsome?"

His voice was incredulous, and I made the mistake of looking up into his bemused face. A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, though I tried valiantly to suppress it, before I burst out laughing. Draco's own chuckle joined mine moments later, hesitant at first. It was a long time before we could look up without erupting into further peals of laughter.

"I can't believe you actually said I'm handsome. You're the one member of the female population of this school - not counting professors - I'd never think to hear it from." He wouldn't meet my eyes, fearful, I thought, of setting off another round of laughter.

"Anymore than I can believe you've said I taste sweet on one occasion, much less two." I was of similar opinion on eye contact at that moment, and we settled back into silence, though a far more companionable one, scrubbing what remained of the cauldrons.

"Why did you say that you think I'm handsome?" Draco sounded genuinely curious.

"I said you have a face too handsome for your own good. Not that you were handsome." I kept my voice tart, a hint of amusement creeping in despite my efforts.

"Same thing." I could hear the verbal shrug of indifference. Irritating man. SIlence reigned for a brief moment. "So why?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Yes." He paused. "You're avoiding the subject." There was a smirk on his face again. Damn him.

"Because it's true. You have most of the girls in school fawning over you, and you take as your due, simply because you're good-looking, and wealthy, and a 'pure-blood'." I glared at him as I finished the last cauldron in my stack. "You think you have it all, that you can get anywhere, anything, anyone you want."

"And you think I can't?" He was finished his as well. We could leave. And leave this unfinished to fester.

"Everything has a price to it, and one day you're going to come across one you don't want to pay. One you can't pay."

"I have money enough to live in luxury without lifting a finger. To buy anyone I want." He shrugged. "Some women wouldn't even need the money, simply that I noticed them is enough."

"You can't buy off death. And not everyone can be bought for money or jewels or power. Some people have principles and ethics that won't be swayed no matter what prize you wave under their nose."

"Everyone has their price." He smirked. "Even you, Granger. What is it? And expansive library? A private research lab?"

I shook my head. "You wouldn't know it if it walked up and smacked you in the face, Malfoy." I stood, heading for the door, my expression closed and eyes cold. I hadn't gotten two steps before he seized my arm, and spun me roughly around.

"Are you willing to bet on that, Granger?"

"Bet on what?"

He was smirking. "That I can't find your price."

"What are the stakes?" I kept my face still, expressionless. Made me great at poker.

"If I can find your price, before the summer holiday, your time when not in class next year belongs to me." His smirk deepened as I gaped, and it took a moment for logic to reassert itself. He couldn't possibly find my 'price', because the concepts involved were utterly foreign to him.

"Done. And if you don't find it in that time frame, you leave me alone for the entirety of seventh year."

He looked pained a moment before the mask returned, and he spoke. "Agreed." He let me go, and I stalked to the door, jerking it open.

I barely stifled a groan. Harry and Ron were standing just outside, accusing looks on their faces. "How much did you hear?" I prayed they'd only heard the bet, just the bet.

"We'll talk about it back at the tower, Hermione." Ron had glanced over my shoulder at Malfoy, and his expression became hard, closed. His grip as her seized my elbow was not gentle, propelling me towards the stairs.

~~~ ~~~

"How could you, Hermione?" Ron's face had been nearly purple with rage as we walked in, but he'd calmed himself down before he spoke. "Handsome? He's Malfoy, for God's sake! How can you go soft on him?"

Harry was by the window of the room, staring out the window silently. He'd given the other boys who shared the dorm a Look, and they'd cleared out in a hurry, not wanting to be in the room when the bomb dropped. He merely watched the first snow of winter fall as Ron continued to rant.

"He's our enemy, Hermione. Not someone you can talk to..."

"Have you ever tried?" I glared at him, not truly in the mood for a lecture. From anyone, least of all him. "Have you Ron? Or did you just let you wounded pride from first year dictate your actions?"

"WOUNDED PRIDE?" he roared. "Hermione, Malfoy is an unprincipled prat. His parents are Death Eaters, and he' probably going to be one as well. They'll kill you as soon as look at you!"

"How do you know? Have you ever personally met any?" I was gearing up for a fight, and at that point, I didn't care. Besides, though Lucius Malfoy might kill me on general principles, Narcissa Malfoy would as soon see me paired off with some high-born brat - or so I had gotten the impression when I met her. She's an odd one.

"Have you, Hermione?" Harry's voice was quiet, and he didn't turn, merely speaking. "I have. Fourth year, when Wormtail brought Voldemort back using my blood. They aren't nice people."

"That's probably understating it, Harry." Ron's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "They're some of the nastiest Dark wizards and witches alive. Percy and dad both come home looking like hell the day after an attack. Percy, especially, since he's gotten himself stuck with the paperwork of the investigations. He has nightmares, Hermione, where he wakes up screaming. Where the faces he sees in the reports march by him, asking him why they weren't saved, why he couldn't save them."

"There's nothing he can do to save them." Harry shrugged, catching the lecture ball smoothly. "I see it sometimes, when Voldemort's there. It's horrible, what they do to their victim before they find the mercy of death. You can't imagine what they go through..."

"Can I?" I'm not that small minded, Harry Potter!" I spat the name at him, and regretted it for a moment when I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. Then they hardened, and my regret vanished. "All I did was have a civil conversation with Malfoy, and you're jumping down my throat about it!"

"Just a 'civil conversation', Hermione?" Ron was staring at me, and angry flush creeping into his cheeks. "You made a bet with him! And if he wins..."

"He can't, Ron Weasley! I took that bet because I knew I could win!" My fists were clenched at my sides as I glared at him. If looks could kill, Ron would have died then.

"What if you don't? You're willing to risk loosing your freedom for that?"

"Loosing my freedom? You're making it sound like it would be forever, not the mere nine months that it would be!"

"How can you be sure Malfoy would let you go so easily? I'm sure he'd love having a slave..."

"He isn't like that, Ron! He has a certain honor to him, even if he is an amoral brat. Besides..." I shut my mouth with a snap, realizing how close I'd come to telling them about meeting Voldemort and the Inner Circle. If I'd kept going, there'd be no mercy at all. Not from them, not from the Ministry.

"'Besides' what, Hermione?" Harry turned, his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing." They would not get it out of me. Not even if they tortured me. Not even if they used Verisitum.

"You're lying." Harry stalked closer, forcing me to retreat until my back hit a wall. "You're hiding something."

Ron loomed up beside Harry, the two effectively trapping me. I tried to duck past them, but they just moved to block my path.

"What are you hiding from us, Hermione?"

"I can't tell you." It was a half-truth. I couldn't tell them the conversation I had with McGonagall a month ago. God, had it only been a month? It felt like a lifetime.

"The hell you can't. You just don't want to." Ron's voice was cold, like it had been when he spoke about Malfoy earlier.

"I can't, Ron! I swore a Wizard's Oath!"

Both of them recoiled in surprise at my statement, blinking at me in shock. Harry recovered first, a hurt expression on his face.

"Why? Because you didn't think we needed to know? Because you didn't think we could handle it, whatever 'it' was? Why, Hermione?"

"Because I knew how you'd react." My voice was quiet. "Because I knew you wouldn't believe what I had learned." Because I suspected I'd be dead by now if I hadn't. Because you both would have gotten yourselves killed trying to protect me when I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

"Because you didn't trust us." Ron's voice was bitter as his expression. "Friendships are based on trust, Hermione. How can we trust you when you lock us out completely?"

"I..."

"Just leave, Hermione." Harry stood aside, leaving a clear path to the door. "The door will be open, but don't come back until you can trust us enough to talk to us."

"Ron..." My voice died beneath his unwavering gaze. He raised an eyebrow when I didn't move.

"Did you want to tell me something?"

I lifted my chin at the chill in his voice, and shook my head. "Just, good-bye, Weasley." I managed to keep my composure until I got to my room. That night, I cried myself to sleep.

~~~ ~~~

The next morning I avoided breakfast, unwilling to face the sullen stares and hurt expression I'd be sure to get from Harry and Ron, hurrying instead down to the dungeons. Potions was the first class I had that day, though I'd have to face Harry, at least Ron wouldn't be there. Malfoy had arrived ahead of me, much to my annoyance, lounging against the wall outside the potions dungeon.

"Had a little falling out with Scarhead and the Weasel, Mudblood?" His smirk was all too knowing as I glared at him. How had he found out about the argument?"

"Bugger off, ferret-boy." I administered my patented Death Glare, and he had the nerve to chuckle. To. Laugh. At. Me!

"A bit touchy today, aren't we, Granger?" He sauntered into the classroom behind me as I hurried to take the seat that put me as far as humanly possible from his usual seat without putting me any closer to Harry. I didn't want to deal with either of them.

Malfoy, curse him, obviously had other plans, seating himself in the chair directly to my right.

"Don't bother moving, Granger. You won't get rid of me that easily." His voice was a soft purr in my ear as he leaned closer, and I glared. His soft, mocking laughter was a bitter reminder that he was baiting me, and I turned away, determined to ignore him.

Harry came in a few minutes later, his eyes only briefly brushing over me, before he hurried on to his usual seat in the back corner of the room. From the angry, hurt glare he tossed me as he set down his books, I doubted I'd find any support from him against Malfoy. Blast them both, anyway!

My annoyed thoughts were interrupted by Snape sweeping into the room with his usual scowl on his face. At least once class started, I'd be able to ignore both Malfoy and Harry. I hoped.

"We will be discussing your papers on poisons today. That is, of course, if you all have remembered to complete them."

Why did Snape have to remind me? I couldn't ignore them when we're dissecting each other's papers. Fortunately, I did mine as soon as it was assigned, or I'd have forgotten it with the mess of those few days.

"Miss Bones." Snape went in alphabetical order, fortunately. We had to present the paper, and then we fielded questions from everyone else. Except him. He didn't shred our papers till later, when he was grading the written work.

Susan was our solitary Hufflepuff in the class; she wanted to be a medi-witch. Her paper was on poisons used for treatments, of course. Like chemotherapy in the Muggle world, though there are some real differences.

"How do they compare to charms to excise the growth?" Padma asked the first question of the round that time. Susan didn't have any problems answering the questions, which meant her grade wouldn't be truly abysmal, so long as her paper was decently written.

"Miss Granger." My paper was on tracing poisons, particularly ones that broke down in the body into compounds naturally found there. Or ones that could be explained as ingestion as part of normal habits - like wormwood in absinthe, and various types of fungi.

"What about using woodworm?" Malfoy was watching me with a disturbing intensity. And I thought I'd just explained that in my paper? Don't you ever listen, Malfoy?

"As I said earlier, it would be traceable in that you can find out what killed them, but not necessarily how they ingested it." He kept that over-intent gaze on me as I finished reiterating what I had pointed out in the paper, and for the rest of class. Irritating, that.

After class, I packed my bag hurriedly, praying I could make it to my Arithmancy class without having to deal with more of Malfoy. No such luck, of course.

"In a hurry, Granger?" He sauntered along beside me, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"I have an Arithmancy class, Malfoy. Leave me alone," I gritted out between my teeth. I wanted to kill him. First, he made a jumble of my emotions, then he destroyed my friendship with Harry, and my relationship with Ron, all in one fell swoop. What did he want? To irritate me into something stupid?

"Why? I thought simply to enjoy your company." He had an innocent expression on his face that I didn't believe for a moment.

"I doubt that." My tone was acid, and I quickened my pace, hoping to leave him behind. What was he doing?

"I'm wounded, Granger." His hurt expression struck me as almost comical. "How could you doubt my word?"

"Easily, Malfoy." The door to my Arithmancy class was a welcome sight, and I slipped through, heading for my seat.

Malfoy followed me.

"Don't you have small animals to torment, Malfoy?" I refused to look at him, focusing instead on setting my books out for my class.

"I find it far more enjoyable tormenting you at the moment, Granger." He slid into the seat beside me, and I shot a glance at his expression from the corner of my eye. The smug smirk pushed my temper closer to the boiling point.

I had to keep reminding myself that murder would only get me in trouble, as satisfying as it might be in the short term.

"You must have a class..."

"Not yet. You have the benefit of my undivided attention until then."

If I had to deal with Malfoy much longer, I was going to scream. Either that, or I was going to kill him.

"Malfoy." I paused for effect, my voice quiet. "If you don't remove yourself from my presence immediately, I will give you the chance to relive your experiences as a ferret." I even managed to keep my tone even and calm, and I noticed him go paler out of the corner of my eye, though he didn't leave.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. And I would give you to Hagrid to take care of." That made Malfoy turn a shade of pale green, and I could have sworn I saw him shudder, though he denied it later. "Frightened?" I was the one with the amused smirk at that point. Amazing what threatening someone with acute embarrassment could do for the ego.

"Of a Mudblood? Don't be absurd," he snapped, his color returning to his face as he scowled. "You're bluffing, Granger. You'll get yourself expelled."

"Will I?" I raised an eyebrow. "Even with McGonagall's more even-handed attitude, I'm certain she will see nothing of note should I carry through with that threat."

His scowl deepened, and he lowered his voice as he replied. "I can go over your head, and get you worse than expelled."

I smiled, knowing I held the trump there. "You shouldn't count on that, Malfoy. Keeping her happy is the one thing he holds very highly. Killing me would be counter-productive."

He turned his head to glare at me a moment, before stalking out just as Professor Vector came in. She paused, staring after him a moment before blinking, and heading for the front of the room to begin class.

~~~ ~~~

That evening, I had detention with Malfoy again, courtesy of his ill-timed question the night before. Murder was not an option, despite the continual temptation he provided. Though that night did give me a golden opportunity to do so. Well, almost. Snape would spoil it.

"I am trusting you two to make this without using it, or any of the ingredients, on each other." Snape fixed us both with a black gaze. "The instructions are on the work table, and any ingredients you need that aren't in the student supplies are set out next to the instructions."

"And you, sir?" Malfoy was going to be the end of my free time, at this rate.

Snape glared at him a moment before answering, his voice silky soft with menace. "I will be occupied elsewhere, Mr. Malfoy. Do not think you have the advantage of knowing my movements simply because of who you are."

Malfoy simply kept a bland expression on his face, silently questioning that statement. I rolled my eyes, wondering if he was indeed suicidal. Though this was a Slytherin I was thinking about, so it is a given he probably has a sense of self preservation. Notably absent when around his head of house.

Shaking my head, I left the two to thier mutual antagonism while I went over the instructions for the potion. It was surprisingly easy to make, though I wondered why Professor Snape was having us make it. A potent poison that could also be used to help those who had a relatively rare disease found only in the pure-blooded wizarding population. A disease that weakened the body and caused fits in the ability to work magic. And seizures.

I put together a few oddities that had not really impinged on my conscious until now. The concerned looks that had been shot at Meri at that odd breakfast. The door slamming slightly instead of closing smoothly when she used her wand to shut it. The sense of frailty about her. And Professor McGonagall's comment the night before, about Meri having another episode.

"Something wrong, Granger?" I jumped when Malfoy whispered in my ear, directly behind me. I must have been very unaware of my surroundings for him to do that.

I shook my head slightly to clear it. "I'm not certain. Why is Professor Snape having us make this? It's incredibly simple, though it, and the ingredients, are quite poisonous, deadly if mishandled. But it isn't something anyone here would use, not to my knowledge."

He moved into my view, his expression unreadable. "You should be able to figure it out, after last night." He ignored the parchment in my hands, beginning to make the potion as I watched him.

"You've done this before." I set the parchment aside, preparing the wormwood while he measured out the necessary amount of distilled water.

"Since I could work with potions. Mother was making it for awhile, until I came to Hogwarts. Aunt Meri moved out shortly after that because mother won't tolerate her fussing, so it became easier for Professor Snape to make it, and deliver it." He shrugged. "Is that wormwood ready?"

I nodded, passing it to him. "Why did she stay with your family originally?"

"Uncle Tom was presumed dead, and Aunt Ri had vanished along with her country home for the time."

"What about her family?"

Malfoy shrugged again, measuring out powdered unicorn horn while the wormwood and water simmered. "Her parents were quite dead at that point, her nephew isn't able to take care of her all the time, and her brother can't tell her from Eve at this point. And I already told you Aunt Ri was nowhere to be found."

"She has a brother?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Granger." He added the unicorn horn, and I immediately added the three drops of basilisk venom, making it hiss and steam. The potion did need two people to make it.

"I'm curious."

"And people can eavesdrop, as last night proved." He glared at me before picking up the knife to chop the nightshade leaves. "I'm not anxious to have my family's problems all over the school."

"They're unlikely to come back down to check on me, thanks to your antics then!"

A smirk spread across his features, and he turned to face me as I stirred the potion. He was amused, devil take him!

"So you did have a falling out with Scarhead and the Weasel."

"As if that wasn't bloody obvious!" I snapped, interrupting him. "And they have names which I know you have stored somewhere in that slimy mind of yours, so you can bleeding well use them!"

"Your wish is my command, Granger." He bowed with a flourish, a mocking smile on his face. "I shall not call Potter 'Scarhead' or Weasley 'the Weasel' while in your presence. No guarantees on any other time."

I blinked, watching him out of the corner of my eye. "You're mocking me."

"Of course, Granger. I simply wouldn't be myself if I did not. Or if I neglected to torment Bumbledork's Golden Boy or the ever-charming..." He frowned a moment, then shook his head, continuing. "The ever-charming rodent that is his side-kick."

I scowled, though I was rather relieved. He was his usual prat of a self, despite the possible glimpse of something more. I didn't need for him to throw me for another loop, like he had the month before.

"Oh, before I forget, Granger. Mother wanted me to remind you of the invitation to stay at the Manor over the Christmas holiday." He grimaced. "Though I am at a loss as to why she invited you. Father will go through the roof, and Aunt Bella is likely to take Tomas and Lisette back to Uncle Tom's for the holiday."

I could have screamed. Obviously she wasn't going to take no for an answer, unless, possibly, I had someone else to stay with. And my best option was rather non-existent with the current state of affairs between me and Ron. "I'll let her know if I can come, though right now I have other plans."

"She'll find some way around those plans, you realize. My mother does not know how to take no for an answer." He had a wry smile on his face as he spoke, his voice as dry as dust.

"I noticed." My voice was equally dry. I handed him the ground dragon scales mixed with a single drop of dragons blood to create a paste.

He nodded silently, checking the potion. We'd have to strain it before mixing it with the paste, but not quite yet. "Get the sieve ready. I'll pour it through, then you can stir the paste as I add the liquid."

It didn't take us long to finish the potion, and Malfoy surprised me by offering to walk me back to Gryffindor tower. The prat ruined it by adding a snide remark about Gryffindors being afraid to travel alone in the dark.

"With the possible exception of Longbottom, of course, but stupidity is no substitute for knowledge."

"Shut up, ferret-boy." I stalked to the stairs out of the dungeon with a scowl on my face that deepened when I saw Ron watching from the top. He looked at me a moment before turning away, patrolling the ground floor for students out after curfew. Damn it all, I wasn't a little girl who needed someone to watch over her all the time!