An Ideal Death-Eater

Harry walked out of the kitchen on his way upstairs. Mr and Mrs Weasley had gone from being devastated, to frantic, to stoic in the space of an hour and Harry, who still hadn't slept yet, found it all too much to handle.

He hadn't told the Weasleys that he would be gone before they woke up in the morning. Harry regretted his hasty words to Ron earlier, and hadn't really planned on leaving. But after a brief talk with Hermione while he walked her to her room, she convinced him that they shouldn't stay any longer.

So he had a letter in his pocket, which he had meant to leave on the kitchen table, but was too tired to wait for them to clear out. As he passed the corridor leading to Draco's room, he shrugged. Malfoy wouldn't feel it was his duty to stop them from leaving, or tell the Weasleys before he and Hermione were gone. So if he gave the letter to him, he might actually pass it along to Mr and Mrs Weasley and Harry could finally get some sleep before the long trek to London in the morning.

Harry stopped on the stairs and turned off towards Draco's room. He tapped lightly on the door. Was he asleep? Probably not; it seemed like the boy was always awake and ready to annoy. Harry heard stomping and then the door was flung wide open.

Draco stood at the threshold, fully unclothed. "Damn it, Gin— " He stopped and blinked for a moment before hiding behind the door. "Bloody hell, Potter. What are you doing here?"

"I, uh— " Harry took in the state of the room. There was clothing strewn everywhere and the chair at the desk was knocked over. Near the door, there was a white scrap of cloth that suspiciously resembled a pair of women's underthings. He scowled and walked into the room, ignoring Draco for a moment.

"What the hell have you been up to, Malfoy?"

"What the hell have I— " Draco stopped and closed the door, picking up the piece of cotton on the floor to cover himself as he edged over to the bed and found his trousers. He slipped them over his hips while Harry turned and studied something on the desk to avoid seeing him.

"You don't have any right barging in here like this, you know," Draco continued once he was at least half-clothed. Harry picked up one of the loose cigarettes on the table and put it to his lips, drawing on it deeply before he turned to confront Draco.

Christ, he was a hairy bugger! You'd have never thought it to look at the guy. But he had what looked like an honest-to-God blonde rug on his chest. Harry thought of his own, almost hairless chest with a pang. It wasn't at all fair. Then he noticed the huge purple bruise on the side of Draco's neck and forgot all about chest hair.

"Have you been messing around with Ginny, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and was attempting to look innocent. "No, of course not. That would be stupid, what with all those brothers she has and everything."

Harry saw right through the act and pierced him with a solid gaze until Draco held his hands up in surrender.

"All right, so I've been fooling around with her. It doesn't mean anything. And it's not like it's any of your business anyway."

"It is my business when I know that you're just a little slime-ball who's only after her for . . ." Harry flushed slightly and raked a hand through his hair, glaring at the floor. "Well, you know what I mean; and I know that Ginny will be terribly hurt when she finds out."

Draco smirked and reached around Harry to grab a cigarette for himself, still grinning as put it to his lips and inhaled. "Yeah? Well, she's the one who jumped me. So why don't you go and tell her to keep her little paws off of my delicate sensibilities?"

"If that's the case, it's only because you led her on," Harry whispered furiously, finally looking back at Draco instead of the floor.

Waving a finger at him, Draco tutted. "Ah ah ah, Potter. I don't think she really gives a rat's knickers whether or not I like her. Truth is, I don't and she doesn't like me either."

"But— " This confused Harry, who had never learned the concept of the casual conquest that his friends were always talking about. Sure, he'd slept with a girl at the Quivering Rooster the year before. But that had been once and he still wasn't sure whether he liked the whole thing or not. It had been so . . . impersonal. Now here was Malfoy talking about Ginny like she was— but no, not Ginny.

"I don't believe you, Malfoy," Harry stated flatly.

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you can go and ask her if you'd like. I would, but she's still cross with me."

Harry sniffed and crossed his arms. "Probably for a damn good reason."

"No," Draco said, running a thumb under his chin in thought while the cigarette still burned between his fingers. "I don't know what made her so angry, really. I mean, all I said was that she's comfortable. That's a complement, isn't it?"

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah, you know. Padded in the right places. She has this soft belly that I just— "

Harry held up a hand and closed his eyes. "I don't want to hear— " He stopped and snapped his eyes open again in wonder. "Hold on. Did you actually tell her that she was, uh, ‘padded'?"

"Of course."

"You must to be the stupidest sod I've ever met." Harry burst out, laughing. Draco seemed to be offended and that made him laugh even harder. "Malfoy, I don't profess to know anything about women, but I learned at least one thing about them from watching Hermione and my Aunt Petunia. You don't ever imply that they are less than perfect unless you like your bollocks to be wrapped around your knees."

"But I didn't say anything wro— "

"You told her she's fat."

"No, I said that she's well padded, there's a difference you know. She probably isn‘t even eight stone soaking wet."

Harry shook his head and chuckled. It seemed that Draco had dug himself into such a hole that Ginny would probably never want to lay eyes on him again. It didn't look like there was any need to interfere after all. Ginny would most likely hex him if he ever came near, much less touched her. And it wasn't as if Draco would get off his high horse long enough to actually apologise. Harry couldn't resist a good dig though; the opportunity would likely never come again.

"You're not very bright, are you, Malfoy? Women are all— " Harry waved his hands, trying desperately to indicate something that was escaping him at the moment.

"Well, they're all— sensitive. And they see things that don't mean anything as having more importance than the things that do mean something."

"So what should I do?"

"Probably nothing you can do now. Damage is already done and I'm glad for it."

Draco scowled. "Oh sod off, Potter. You're just jealous because Granger won't uncross her legs."

Harry's face flushed a brilliant shade of red and his hands clenched in anger. "Don't speak about Hermione that way again! I'm sick of you treating her the way you do."

Draco shrugged and sat down on his bed. "Aw, did I hit a sore spot?"

The fists by Harry's sides unravelled slowly, and he forced himself to keep calm. He was too tired now to put up much of a fight, and he still had to find a way to get Hermione and himself to London in the morning.

"Look, Malfoy," Harry said after he was calmed a little by picking up another cigarette and taking a few deep gulps from it. His nerves were small frazzled bundles already and this was only Malfoy baiting him. It wasn't worth it to give the boy the pleasure of making Harry even angrier. "I came in here to give you this."

Draco arched an eyebrow at the paper in Harry's hand. "What's that for?"

"I'm asking you to give it to Mr Weasley in the morning. I would leave it in the kitchen, but they're still talking and I'm exhausted."

"Ah, so you are leaving then."

Harry's eyes popped in surprise. "How did you— "

"You forget that it was in front of my door you had that little drama earlier. I heard every bloody word."

"Oh." Harry looked down at the scrap of parchment in his hand. "Well, will you give it to them?"

Draco shrugged and took it from his hand, pocketing it. "With pleasure."

Harry's lip bowed in disgust. "I'm sure."

"At least I'm honest, Potter! You've screwed over your best friend just for a spot of naughty. I'm sure that'll sit well with them."

That was it!

Harry reached down and seized Draco roughly by the arms, squeezing them tightly. "I love Hermione," he said, bringing his face so close to Draco's that they almost bumped noses. "I need her. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that. You wouldn't know what love was if it bit you on the arse and screamed in your ear."

Draco pushed Harry away from him, standing quickly. "Love is for fools, Potter. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that. All those feelings you have? They'll get you or her killed one day. So have fun while you can, because your time will run out eventually and you'll be left holding onto an empty shell."

The dispassionate twist to his words made Harry shake. Draco had hit upon his every fear so squarely that it made Harry wonder whether he was really that transparent or if the boy had been spouting a universal truth that he'd somehow missed.

Harry backed out of the room with his eyes on the floor, fumbling for the doorknob behind him. In a daze, he made his way upstairs to Ron's bedroom. He had been sleeping there, but he couldn't possibly do that now, could he? So instead, he walked back down to the second landing and to the end of the hall until he paused outside of Hermione's room. Could he? Harry supposed that it would be okay if he slept in her bed just this once since they would be gone before Mrs Weasley woke.

Harry opened the door a crack, letting the light from the corridor shine into the room.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

There was no answer of course as the girl was very much asleep. Harry sighed and took off his shoes, closing the door behind him and tiptoeing carefully over to where she lay sleeping.

A half moon hung in the sky outside of her window and the pale light washed over her features, softening the bushy hair into a dark halo and relaxing the frown lines that had started to appear on her forehead. She really was beautiful.

Harry shook her lightly on the shoulder. "Hermione, do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I don't want to bother Ron if I can help it."

Her eyes opened blearily and she took in his shadowy form with a yawn. "Of course, Harry. I don't mind."

Harry set his glasses on her night table and climbed over her body to be between her and the wall, almost stepping on Crookshanks as he burrowed under the covers and pulled her back against his chest. She muttered something contentedly under her breath before the deep even breathing and occasional soft snore told him that she was asleep again. He held her close to him, still fully clothed, for a long time.

Even though he hadn't slept in going on two days, Harry was having difficulty falling asleep. He wanted to savour the feel of her in his arms forever. It relaxed him and made him realise what had been missing that time he'd been with the girl from the Quivering Rooster.

The feeling of warmth and friendship and familiarity, of true intimacy. That's what he had missed. But now he felt other things and it scared him. Malfoy was probably right, the little voice in his head was probably right; Hermione could be taken from him easily. On a whim Voldemort could creep up one summer while she was with her family and they wouldn't know what hit them.

She'd be gone forever.

Harry shivered and pulled Hermione a little closer, his arms squeezing her carefully around the middle in an attempt to keep the fear at bay. As Harry started drifting off to sleep, his only thought was that he would never let her go anywhere again without being by her side.

*~*~*~*~*

Ginny tossed and turned in her bed. She was still so angry with Draco that it kept her awake. That and the nagging feeling that she had forgotten something. More than the incident with Draco earlier, that sense of something important pressed on her. What was it that she couldn't remember?

She sat upright and turned the flame up on her bedside lamp, flooding the room with light. Her room seemed the same as it always had, full of fluffy little stuffed animals and posters of the Holyhead Harpies on the walls. Nothing was out of place. Ginny swung her feet over the bed and walked around, glancing at her books and the half-done schoolwork on her desk. She shook her head.

That wasn't it.

But beside the essay on Ashwinder eggs, lay her potions kit and suddenly she remembered, sighing with relief and walking over to it quickly. Ginny thanked whatever was looking out for her that the answer had come to her at all. Perish the thought of more Malfoy brats running around, much less that they be her Malfoy brats.

Ginny shivered and pulled out an old copy of Witch's Weekly, absentmindedly flipping through until she found the potion she was looking for. A vial of slippery elm essence was taken from her kit and she pulled out her cauldron, pouring a measured dose inside and heating the bottom with a small candle she kept for potion making at home. A single Diricrawl feather followed the liquid and Ginny hunted around for some powdered Glumbumble treacle and tapped a very small amount of it into her cauldron, stirring constantly while patting the table down for some frozen Flobberworms.

Getting frustrated, Ginny stopped stirring and upended her potions kit. When she found the box of frozen Flobberworms, she let out a small howl of anger and threw it against the wall. The damn thing was empty!

Quickly, Ginny grabbed her spoon and began swirling the potion around to keep it from burning. She thought about it for a moment and shrugged. Flobberworms didn't add anything really; they only thickened it up. So what if the potion was a little thin? It would do.

She let the potion come to a boil before blowing out the candle underneath. What she wouldn't give for the use of her wand just then. As it was though, Ginny had to wait for the potion to cool. She poked at it with her spoon and noticed that it was the proper silvery-blue colour.

"Like his eyes," she muttered. "Blast the pair of them, too."

Ginny sniffed and filled the bowl of the spoon with some of the thin liquid, pursing her lips to blow on it in an attempt to make it cool down faster. Being impatient though, she swallowed it down in one gulp, making a face at both the bitter taste and the heat.

Waving a hand over her tongue, Ginny blinked a few times and put away her potion things, pouring the remainder of the birth control potion into an empty vial. It was best to keep it, just in case. In case of what though, she didn't know since she was bound and damned determined never to sleep with Malfoy again.

And he was Malfoy again. Not ‘Draco'. No, no, no, he would remain ‘just Malfoy' until the day she died. Stupid, stupid thing to do. He said that her hips were padded! The sheer nerve of the prat still had her reeling. And to think that she was the one who jumped on him!

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, Ginny turned the knob on her lamp, making the flame go down once more until it was almost completely out and crawled into bed.

Then there was a light tap on the door and she groaned. Who the hell was bothering her at this time of night? It wouldn't be Draco. Malfoy. Damn that git. It had better not be him or she'd wring his neck.

Ginny opened the door and there he stood, not looking at all apologetic for what he had said earlier.

"What do you want?" she hissed at him, glancing down the hall to make sure that Ron and her parents were still in their rooms.

Draco ignored what she said and pushed past her, taking in her bedroom with a sweep of his silvery-blue eyes, even though it was dark and he couldn't possibly see anything. "Well, isn't this . . . cute."

"I asked what do you want. Or are you deaf as well as stupid?" Ginny was fuming as she closed the door, softly though so as not to waken sleeping red-haired giants who would be just as displeased with Ginny to see a boy in her room late at night and would probably kill them both instead of just Draco.

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Ginny could only make this out by the faint gleam of moonlight on the white part of his eye contrasting with his dilated pupil.

"I had a chat with Potter earlier and he led me to believe that what I said to you before may have been taken in a different way from how I'd meant it."

Ginny frowned for a moment. "Did you tell Harry about . . ." She trailed off, unable to actually vocalise what she was referring too. There was no need, however, as he understood what she meant.

"No, he figured it out himself when he saw your knickers on the floor. Along with the broken chair. Or it may have been the fact that I opened the door stark naked and started to call him by your name."

After a brief silence, Ginny laughed despite herself. It really was too amusing. She bit her tongue just as she was about to snarkily ask why Harry had been in his room in the first place, but that seemed too cruel to say, even to him, in light of recent developments.

"Well, I hope that you at least cleaned the place up."

She could feel rather than see the embarrassed flush creeping over his cheeks. Apparently he hadn't thought that far ahead.

"So, is there a reason for this nocturnal visit? If you think I'm sleeping with you again, you've gone round the twist."

"Actually, I came to clear things up. Believe it or not, I don't like to be misunderstood."

Ginny snickered while he continued. "No, I'm serious. When I insult someone, I want them to know it. It isn't any fun if they don't understand."

"Oh, so noble of you, Malfoy." She crossed her arms and waited for him to finish what he had to say so she could bung him out on his nose.

"I mean it. Now, what did I say earlier that made you tear out of the room like you had a Skrewt attached to your arse?"

"It was just you being you, Malfoy. You're a stupid git and I should never have slept with you."

"Ah," he traced over her arm with a careful finger. "But you did. No taking that back, is there?"

"No," Ginny ground out. "There isn't. But it would help tremendously if you would leave so I could forget about the whole thing."

"Do you really want me to leave?"

Ginny uncrossed her arms and held them out, palms up. "Yes! For God's sake, leave me alone."

"But you haven't told me what made you angry yet."

"Yes, I did."

"Explain it further then. Because if it was only me being me, as you put it, you never would have slept with me in the first place."

Pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration and closing her eyes, Ginny sighed. "Fine, you want to know what really got to me? When you called me ‘comfortable' and said that my hips were padded!"

Draco lifted an eyebrow. The only means she could tell that he did so was from the way the silvery light pouring out of the window shifted against the fine, reflective hairs over his eyes. She knew that he would never admit that Harry was right, just as she somehow knew she would never get an apology from Draco; Malfoys didn't seem the repentant type.

"But you are comfortable. That's a compliment. And if you know me so well, which you claim to do, you'd know that's a very rare thing for me to hand out. As to your hips being padded . . ." He trailed off and she could feel his eyes on her. "Well, Potter told me that you might have taken that the wrong way. I didn't mean that you're fat."

"Thanks much for clearing that up," Ginny retorted sarcastically. He still hadn't actually apologised to her yet and she tapped her foot impatiently, hoping that she was wrong and he would say he was sorry. "Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to apologise at least?"

Draco seemed to be turning the thought over in his mind. "No," he said at last. "You mistook what I meant and flew out of there without even asking what I actually did mean. So no, I don't see the need for an apology. And I‘m gracious enough not to ask for you to apologise."

Ginny gaped at him. That was terrible logic! Brilliant, she grudgingly admitted, but terrible all the same. "Are you daft? You should apologise."

She could see a twinkle in his eye from the echoed light and the smooth planes of his face turned up in a smirk. "Make me."

Sighing in defeat, Ginny walked over to her bed and crawled under the thick quilts there. "I officially give up, Malfoy. I'm tired, now go away."

Ginny turned over and huddled further into the bedclothes, trying to get warm. So she was surprised when instead of hearing the door open and close, she felt Malfoy's slender, burning body slip under the covers behind her.

"What the hell are you doing?" she mumbled. "My mum will skin you alive if she sees you in here."

"Then you'll just have to wake me up early, won't you?" he replied, breath warm in her ear.

She flipped over so that she could stare at him, eye to gleaming eye. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"I told you already," he muttered, moving his body down to lay on her stomach.

"Told me what?" she asked the top of his shiny blonde head irritably.

"You're terribly comfortable to sleep on."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry woke with a start when he no longer felt Hermione's warmth on his chest. But upon further inspection, he could see her brushing out her long brown hair and twisting it up into a bun on the back of her head. He relaxed.

She was fine really, nothing amiss.

Hermione had noticed that he was awake and moved over to sit next to him on the bed. "Harry, it's time to go now.

The sun was just cresting the horizon outside of the window and the light struck her in the face, shadowing it with gold and red. As the moon before it had done, the sun softened a million tiny hairs, which had escaped her bun into a nimbus of light around her head. Harry ran his Quidditch-roughened palm over her face in wonder, marvelling at the stark contrast in textures.

"You're very pretty, did you know that?"

Hermione glanced at him shyly for a moment and kissed the tip of his nose. "You need to put on your shoes, Harry. We've a long way to go yet."

Harry yawned and pulled his hand back. "Not so far, actually. I've decided that it's ridiculous for us to go all the way into London today. We can just walk into Ottery St. Catchpole and find somewhere to stay for the day. I've still have some Muggle money left over from yesterday, at least enough to get us a room somewhere and into London tomorrow."

She shrugged. "That's fine with me. I just want to leave here. I can't bear being near Ron another second."

"You'll still have to deal with him at school, Hermione."

"I can ignore him at school," she sniffed. "Honestly, he tried to kiss me, Harry! And I'd already told him no when he asked before."

Harry drew his eyebrows together in a frown. "When did he ask you that?"

She waved her hand. "It was when I had that argument with him before tea last night. He kept telling me that he loved me so much. And— " Hermione looked down and swallowed. "I feel badly for him, Harry. Honestly, I do. But when I told him that I couldn't love him back the same way, he really hit the ceiling! Started calling me all these horrid names and I lost my temper entirely and . . . well, you know what happened next. He laughed at me so I ducked in here to have a good cry."

Something was still nagging at the back of his mind though. "You told him last night in the hall that he'd had his chance but lost it. What did you mean by that?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, I used to have a thing for him when we were younger. But he never noticed, or if he did, he didn't say anything to me about it. Then I just— I started seeing you in a different light and forgot that I'd ever felt that way about him. It wasn‘t much more than a childish crush, anyway. Nothing like what I feel for you, Harry."

Harry nodded. "So you don't still feel anything for him? You're sure?"

Laughing, she smacked his chest lightly. "No, you goose. Otherwise, I'd be snogging him right now instead of you."

"But you aren't snogging me right now."

"Oh," she said, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the mouth, a rosy blush still on her cheeks. "You've been snogged."

Harry chuckled. "I feel like I should buy a tee-shirt to commemorate the occasion."

"No," Hermione said, looking him in the eye. "Save the tee-shirt for another time."

Oh yes, he thought to himself, he would definitely buy something when that occasion came around.

"Come on."

Hermione stood and pulled at Harry's shirt to get him sitting up fully, handing him his glasses from the night table. She looked around for his shoes and knelt down, putting them on his feet and tying them up quickly. He glanced down at the top of her head and chuckled.

"Have you decided to be my house-elf for the day, then?"

She smirked and hit his leg. "No, just being nice. Get up now, sleepyhead. You still have to get Hedwig and your trunk from Ron's room."

Harry groaned and fell back on the bed. He'd forgotten all about that. Damn it. He put a hand over his eyes dramatically. "Since you're playing house-elf, can't you get it for me?"

Hermione tsked softly and pulled him to rights. "No, you have to get it. I'm still recovering, remember?"

Grumbling to himself, Harry stood and walked out of her room, going up the stairs to the first attic where Ron was sleeping. The door was open a crack and he poked his head through, wincing as a shaft of sunlight bounced off the violently orange walls to hit him in the eye.

His travel trunk was close to the door, with Hedwig in her cage hooting at him softly from on top of it. Harry put a finger to his lips and picked up the trunk, carefully so as not to disturb the owl or Ron.

It wasn‘t heavy, but how he was going to carry his trunk and Hermione's was going to be a definite problem. Quietly, he took the one he had already downstairs, setting it next to the door before turning back to fetch Hermione's and stacking it on top with Hedwig‘s cage sitting on Crookshanks' box. It had snowed more overnight, so he figured that if he could find a flat piece of wood to set them on, he could easily sled it all over the snow. If either of the trunks were damaged, it would be his and that was no big loss as it was falling apart already.

Hermione came down the stairs then, bundled up in her heavy winter cloak and carrying his as well.

"Here's your cloak, Harry," she said, gesturing for him to bend down so she could wrap it over his shoulders and pin the front together. "It's terribly cold outside and I don't want you to freeze."

He grinned to himself as she fussed over his clothes for another minute or two. It wasn't anything different from what she normally did, but the way she did it spoke volumes to Harry. She murmured in tones, which conveyed that he was very important to her, not that this was obligatory on her part in any way. Her mothering annoyed him to no end when they were younger, but he understood her motivations now and he felt warm inside.

It was . . . nice.

Without thinking about it, he gave her a brief peck on the forehead, seeing a million days in the future go by where he would do the same exact thing. It made him smile, the fact that there was one person in his life that he would always be able to count on. The assurance of her affection for him.

"Are you ready to go?"

Hermione looked down and put her feet into a set of overshoes by the door, motioning for him to do the same. They shrunk down to fit their feet and the warming charm on them kept their toes from getting cold.

"I'm ready. Let's go, then."

Grabbing her hand in his, Harry opened the door and stepped outside, pulling the trunks along behind and leaving deep furrows in the snow as they walked toward the sleepy little village of Ottery St. Catchpole at a brisk pace.

So they were a good distance down the road and out of sight entirely when several hooded figures Apparated outside the hedgerows surrounding the Weasley home.