Temptation

Lucius Malfoy paced his study, his eyes hardly ever leaving the grandfather clock in the corner. He was waiting for his son, Draco, who was very late.

"Come on, boy, where are you?" he muttered in annoyance.

A knock at the door made him jump, and he sat down in the leather chair behind his desk.

"Come in."

The heavy oak door swung open and in came Draco, looking apologetic.

"Where have you been?" Lucius barked.

"I'm very sorry, Father, I was -"

"Never mind that now," Lucius interrupted, waving an impatient hand. "Sit down."

Draco did so, a somewhat apprehensive look on his face.

"What did you want to see me for, Father?" Lucius cleared his throat.

"As you will know, there is a plan to kidnap Hermione Granger. She is possibly the only person in the world - aside from that fool Dumbledore, of course - to know of Harry Potter's whereabouts."

"Forgive me for asking, Father, but what has that to do with me?"

"I'm getting to it, give me a chance. Now, we could just fling the girl into the dungeons and starve her until she talks, but I get the feeling that she would rather die than betray her friends to her enemies - am I right?" Draco nodded. "I thought so, which is why she is going to be treated as a guest rather than a prisoner. And you" - Lucius jabbed a finger at his son - "are going to befriend the girl."

"But Father, I -"

"Be quiet," Lucius snapped. "You're the most manipulative person I know, which makes you perfect for the job. I want you to build up her trust, get to know her, until she trusts you enough to tell you where Potter is. You've no doubt heard the saying that you should get into someone's head before you get them into bed - that applies to this."

"You want me to sleep with her?" Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want to sleep with her?"

"I'll decide that when I see her again." Lucius laughed coldly.

"Well, it is up to you - if you want to take your, ah, 'friendship' above the platonic level, then you're more than welcome to."

"What would you do, Father?"

Lucius thought for a moment, and then smirked.

"Like you said - I'll decide that when I see her. Now be off with you, I have work to do."

~***~

Draco walked slowly through the corridors of the manor, not really knowing where he was going, and not really caring either. He was glad that Hermione wouldn't be treated like vermin, but it somehow seemed wrong to lull her into a false sense of security.

"You look preoccupied, Draco dear," said a voice to his left. He looked and saw a portrait of his grandmother, who had died when he was very small. Her portrait was the only one in the manor that he was willing to talk to.

"I am."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Thanks for your concern, but no." His grandmother sighed.

"I don't know...you're just like your father was when he was your age." Draco stiffened slightly. "But maybe you're not as much like Lucius as I originally thought..."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, dear." His grandmother smiled placidly. Draco forced a smile back, then hurried on his way.

He rounded a corner and sank down in a little alcove. Why am I so bothered about Hermione's feelings anyway? he thought irritably. She just a Mudblood...Potter's Mudblood, come to think of it...

He knew that she wasn't "just a Mudblood", though. He cast his mind back to their Leavers' Ball at the end of seventh year. It had been a masked ball, which meant that dates were forbidden and you just went on luck.

Hermione had been straightening her hair ever since fifth year, and so in a mask and dress robes, she looked just like every other brown-haired girl there, with no curls to distinguish her from the others. She wore dark green velvet trimmed with gold, and a gold mask to match. Draco asked her to dance, not knowing who she was, and she agreed.

After a few hours, he suggested going for a walk, and took her out near the greenhouses, where there was a little rose garden. He kissed her for a long time, and she kissed back, and there had been such a chemistry between them when they kissed that he then he raised a hand to lift her mask - and found himself staring into those big brown eyes...

She had looked at him almost fearfully, and then turned on her heel and ran away. They left school the next day, and never saw each other again.

Draco sighed and stood up. If he was being perfectly honest, nobody had ever kissed him like Hermione did, and he doubted if anyone ever would. Their kiss had been wrong - she'd been seeing Potter even then - but it had seemed so right at the time.

And if she came to the manor - and Draco had to look after her, had to befriend her - then he knew that he'd crack. He wouldn't be able to deceive and manipulate her. If he did sleep with her, it wouldn't be because he had to.

It would be because he loved her.

~***~

Hermione Granger was absolutely petrified. She'd never been more scared in all her life, not even when she started at Hogwarts, or when she'd literally been Petrified.

She was sitting in a carriage on her own, hands tied behind her back. She couldn't remember how she'd come to be here, but she knew that she'd been Stunned at some point.

She'd just been sitting at home when several people had suddenly Apparated all around her. She screamed, one of them Stunned her, and that was all she could remember.

There were windows, so Hermione didn't have a clue where she was. She couldn't even see her watch, so she didn't know how long the carriage had been moving. It was cold, too - it was the middle of winter so she was wearing long sleeves anyway, but the temperature in the carriage was bitterly cold.

The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop, and Hermione was flung forwards. She struggled back onto her knees, and the doors were flung open, blinding her with bright sunlight. She squinted as two masked men took hold of her, lifted her down from the carriage and forced her to walk.

They were walking up a driveway. Hermione could see a magnificent mansion up ahead, and vaguely wondered if that was where they were going. They kept on walking in the direction of the main doors, so she guessed it would be.

Someone was standing by the front door, someone who had his back to them. He heard their footsteps crunching in the gravel and turned, smiling in a cold, unfriendly manner. It was Lucius Malfoy.

His cold eyes swept over Hermione, making her feel uneasy. His eyes then flickered to the masked men, a look of slight contempt on his face.

"Did I not tell you to make the girl comfortable?" he said icily.

"Yes, sir."

"You did, sir."

"And was she?"

"No, sir."

"Sorry, sir."

"So you should be. Untie her at once, and let go of her."

Hermione was completely bewildered by this behaviour. Why did Lucius Malfoy, of all people, want her to be comfortable? This didn't make sense at all.

She rubbed her wrists, slightly easing the pain that the ropes had caused by cutting into her skin. Lucius Malfoy's eyes returned to her, the smile never faltering.

"Follow me," he said abruptly, and Hermione, too frightened to do anything else, did as she was told.

~***~

Hermione looked scared out of her wits. Her hair was dishevelled, her eyes round, a terrified expression on her face.

"Draco," Lucius said, stepping forwards, "Kindly escort Miss Granger to her room."

Hermione's expression instantly changed to one of anger as she began to follow Draco down a corridor.

"I should've known you'd have something to do with this," she hissed angrily.

"Lucius made the decisions, not me," Draco said coolly. "I'm supposed to look after you, or something."

"Look after me? Why?"

"I just said, I don't know! I never get told anything around here."

He glanced at her face, and saw tears brimming in her eyes.

"I want to go home!" she wailed. "Why are you doing this? I want to be at home!"

The tears were worse than anything Draco could have prepared himself for. He'd expected sarcasm and angry remarks, not tears. Hermione Granger did not cry - well, she never used to.

"Your room's just up here," he said, walking slightly faster and hoping that his words might be of some comfort. They weren't; if anything, her wails got louder. "Here..." He quickly opened the door, ushered her inside and closed the door behind them.

"What's the point," Hermione sniffled, once her sobs had subsided, "Of kidnapping me and then treating me like a guest? It doesn't make any sense."

"True," Draco admitted, "But that's Lucius for you. He doesn't make sense. Ever."

~***~

Hermione felt angry for allowing herself to lose control like that. She hadn't cried for years. In fact, the last time had been after the Leavers' Ball.

Don't think about that, she told herself furiously. It's in the past, he didn't know it was you; otherwise there'd have been no chance that it would ever have happened...

She'd known it was Draco, though. She'd hated him ever since first year, but sometime during sixth year, her feelings had grown. There was still hate there - she'd never stop hating him - but there was something else there too. She'd had crushes before, felt lust before, but this was different. This was love, she was sure of it. She loved Harry too, but her love for him was a safe, warm, happy love - her love for Draco was cold and cutting and gripped her heart like ice. Harry was her boyfriend; Draco, if she ever had anything to do with him, would be her lover.

At first, she'd been angry with herself for feeling that way, but she soon realised that she couldn't do anything about it. She had no control over her feelings. Instead of thinking of Draco, she tried to push him from her mind and directed all her feelings towards Harry.

Well. Until the Leavers' Ball.

When he asked her to dance, she accepted, even though she was Harry's girlfriend.

He asked her to accompany him on a walk, and she agreed, half-wishing that something would come of it, half-wishing that it wouldn't in case Harry ever found out.

But something had happened. He'd kissed her, and she'd kissed him back, and then he had removed her mask...

She'd never forget the shock that flickered over his face. She decided to run before he could say anything, back up to the dormitory, where she flung herself on her bed and sobbed herself to sleep because she loved two different people, and the one she loved most she could never have. She never said anything to him again.

Until now.

"There are some clothes in the wardrobe," Draco informed her. "They're enchanted to fit anyone who puts them on, so they'll all fit you perfectly. If you don't like them, then just say the word and I'll get you something else."

Hermione said nothing. Draco peered at her, a glint of something like concern in his eyes.

"You look cold."

"I am."

He opened the wardrobe and handed her a pink jumper that she would never have chosen herself, but since she had no other options, it would have to do. She slipped it on over her head and huddled inside it, grateful for the extra warmth.

"Are you hungry? I can take you to the kitchens if you like."

"Thank you."

~***~

Well, hallelujah, I've got something right, Draco thought as he led the way to the kitchens. They walked past the portrait of his grandmother; she caught his eye and smiled in a knowing way. He hated it when she did that, because whatever she knew was usually right.

"Master Draco, what is it Sparky can get you?" a house-elf squeaked. Draco turned to Hermione.

"What do you want?"

"I...er - I...whatever." Draco turned back to the house-elf.

"Get me two hot chicken baguettes. Oh - and a pot of tea, too," he added, and then led Hermione over to the fire, where they sat in chairs that the house-elves brought over. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing - it's just - well, this kitchen is so...big."

"So is the whole house, in case you'd failed to notice. I don't see why we need it this big for just the three of us, but it's where the Malfoys have always lived."

"Always?"

"Well, always unless you want me to run through my family history for you. Which is incredibly boring even for me, so don't even think about saying yes."

"Fine, I won't."

Sparky the house-elf came rushing over with a tea tray, bowed and scuttled away again. Draco poured out two cups of tea and handed one to Hermione.

"Thank you."

"Milk?"

"Yes, please. And two sugars."

She held out the cup, and Draco poured out the milk, noticing how small and slim her hands were, and wondering what it would be like to hold them in his own.

What's wrong with you? She hasn't even been here a day and already you're cracking, he chided himself. Stop staring at her and stop thinking amorously, because there's no way on earth that she'll let you near her in that way.

~***~

Why is he staring at my hands? Hermione wondered. Without even knowing she was doing it, her eyes drifted to Draco's hands, larger than her own, and paler too.

Without warning, he looked up and his eyes met hers. She quickly looked away, praying that she wasn't blushing.

Sparky the elf was back, carrying two trays, each with a baguette on it. Hermione took hers gratefully and began to eat, realising how long it had been since she'd last had food.

She ate quickly, and no sooner had she finished than a house-elf came rushing over and took away her tray.

"Thank -" she began, but the elf was gone. She poured out another cup of tea and silently sipped it whilst Draco finished eating.

He finally finished, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering over her face.

"Are you tired?"

"No."

"Well - what's wrong, then? You seem upset."

Hermione slammed her cup down, splashing tea everywhere, angry at his stupid remarks.

"I seem upset? Well, I wonder why! You try being kidnapped, treated like crap on the way here and then suddenly being treated like a guest in a five-star hotel! It's too confusing..." She broke off, and stared at the floor for a moment, chewing her lip. She looked up again. "Take me to see your father."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"Fine." Hermione got to her feet and darted through the kitchen to the door. "If you won't take me, I'll find him myself!" she shouted, and then opened the door and ran out.

~***~

Where can she be? Draco thought frantically, racing along the corridor. He skidded to a halt in front of his grandmother, gasping for breath.

"Have you - seen - Hermione?" he panted.

"If you mean the girl you were with earlier, then no," his grandmother said. "But Caelum was here a minute ago; he said he saw a brown-haired girl running along the second-floor corridor. That must be her."

"Thanks," Draco said, and set off running again. He hadn't gone far, however, when he almost collided with his mother, who was coming in the opposite direction. Narcissa was carrying a large bag and had a dreamy look on her face. Draco wondered why for a moment, and then realised that she must have been taking Somnium again.

"Hello, darling," she said placidly.

"Evening, Mother. What's in the bag?"

"Some old clothes. I thought that the girl might like them."

"The girl -? Oh, you mean Hermione. I'll take them to her."

"I was going to take them."

"She's asleep, Mother. You don't want to wake her up now, do you?"

"I suppose not." Narcissa handed Draco the bag. "Are you in love with her, Draco?" The question took him by surprise.

"Who?"

"The girl. Hermione."

"No, of course not. I'd better be going, Mother - I'll see that she gets these."

"Goodnight, darling." She leaned forwards and kissed his forehead, and he grimaced. The sickly-sweet smell of Somnium still clung to her.

Narcissa drifted away, and Draco set off again. He dumped the bag behind a suit of armour - he could come back for it later.

He turned and ran up the staircase to the second floor, heart thudding. Lucius' study was on the second floor - what if Hermione had found him?

~***~

Hermione raced along the second floor, anger pounding through her veins. She'd been prepared to be a quiet prisoner if they'd tell her what was going on, but seeing as Draco wouldn't tell her anything, she decided to go to Lucius.

She stopped outside the door at the end of the corridor and pushed it open. She was definitely in some sort of study, although there was nobody else here. She sat down in a leather chair to wait.

A couple of seconds passed, and then the door opened and Lucius Malfoy entered.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"That's what I'd like to know," Hermione retorted. She stood up, arms folded across her chest. "Why are you keeping me here?"

Lucius chuckled.

"Draco was right," he remarked. "You are a very clever girl...very clever indeed..."

Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable as Lucius' gaze settled on her. She'd heard people say that Draco looked like his father, and she'd also thought so, but close up they were completely different. Draco's eyes were open, almost honest. Lucius' eyes were cold and merciless.

Lucius took a step towards her. Hermione stepped back, tripped and found herself in the chair again. Lucius leant forwards, his hands on the arms of the chair. Before she could do anything, his lips were upon hers. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. She kicked out and felt her foot connect with his shin, but he didn't even flinch.

Suddenly, Hermione heard the door open and Lucius sprang away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco demanded.

~***~

Draco looked at Hermione. Her eyes were full of fear, and her lips were redder than usual. A sly smile crept across Lucius' face.

"I was just showing Miss Granger how hospitable a Malfoy can be," he said smoothly. "No doubt you'll be wanting to carry on where I left off, Draco..."

Draco's eyes were flashing and before he knew what he was doing, he pulled out his wand.

"Hermione's not just some - some slag that you can have whenever you want!"

Lucius' eyes were flashing, too.

"She's a Mudblood, Draco," he spat. "She should be grateful that I even thought about her."

Draco was shaking from head to toe with rage. He couldn't even speak. Instead, he pulled Hermione to her feet, cast a dark glare at his father, and led her from the room.

~***~

Hermione was speechless. She'd never seen Draco so angry. Half of her was amazed at what he'd just done, and the other half of her was filled with gratefulness towards him.

"That was a very brave thing you just did," she said quietly.

"I had to," was the response.

"You didn't."

"What, did you think I was just going to let him go as far as he wanted with you?" Hermione saw some of that previous anger in his eyes, and shrank back.

"He wouldn't...would he?" Draco made a noise of impatient disbelief.

"Don't be so naïve. Of course he would. He'd probably have put you under the Imperius Curse if you wouldn't do what he wanted."

"That's - that's awful."

"Welcome to my world."

"You've seen him do it?"

"I've seen him put them under the Imperius Curse, but I've never seen him actually..." Draco stopped speaking and stared at the floor for a moment. "I know he has, though."

Hermione said nothing for a moment, and then reached out and put a hand on his arm.

"Thank you."