Hazardous Wager

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You say, you gotta be,
Cruel to be kind, in the right measure
Cruel to be kind, it's a very good sign
Cruel to be kind, means that I love you
Baby, you gotta be cruel to be kind

-- Cruel to be kind, Nick Lowe

Chapter 2:

Not a minute had passed since Ron had last spoken when Hermione entered the Great Hall, smiled at Harry and Ron and made her way towards the Gryffindor table. As she was about to sit, however, her eyes fell on the sight of Professor Vector raising Draco Malfoy from his chair at the Slytherin table. Being as hungry as she was, she decided to ignore them and pretend like she hadn't noticed.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked, as he moved little bit to his right so Hermione could sit comfortably between him and Ron, who was studiously avoiding her eyes.

"Oh, I stayed with Professor Bythell after the bell rang discussing something about a Celtic Runes translation I hadn't quite understood from last week's lesson, and I guess I just lost track of time. We had such an interesting conversation regarding druidry..." she replied, in her most school-like tone, hoping she sounded believable enough. It seemed that she did, because both boys were already rolling their eyes and sighing in false exasperation.

Ron, who had been silent until then, shyly placed a piece of mince pie in her plate. "Seeing that you weren't coming, we saved you some pie, before Neville ate it all..."

Hermione's face lightened with a huge smile as she immediately poked the pie with the fork and took a big bite.

"I do hope you don't gag after being confined in a small space with Malfoy and Snape for a very long time, you know. I see you're thoroughly enjoying what you're eating." said Harry. Hermione, who was eating unuasually fast, snorted and nearly choked with her food, while Ron laughed loudly. Several of their fellow Gryffindors turned their heads in their direction. That made them laugh harder.

"C'mon Harry, I was hungry!" she said, now regarding the remaining pieces of pie with repulse. Ron laughed again, but suddenly stopped as he saw, from over Hermione and Harry's shoulders, a not-so-nice looking Professor Vector followed by a sulky Draco Malfoy, who glared at them as soon as he got the chance.

"Miss Granger," said Professor Vector curtly. Hermione nodded and stood up, glancing briefly at the boys.

"Good luck, 'Mione," Harry muttered, loud enough for only Hermione to hear, and Ron nodded vigorously. She nodded thankfully, and followed Professor Vector and Malfoy out of the Great Hall and into Snape's dungeons.

"Do you think she's going to be all right?" asked Ron, concerned. Harry nodded as he drank from his goblet.

"Of course she will, Ron. I'm sure she can handle both Malfoy and Snape any day."

"Still..." Ron added, glancing at the Great Hall's doors. He wasn't too convinced, but he ate Hermione's remaining pieces of pie silently, anyway.

* * * * * * * * * *

Their walk towards the dungeons was silent. Neither Hermione nor Draco had felt the need to comment on the situation, to Cecile Vector's relief. She was not in the mood to listen to the wave of insults usually heard in the presence of the two students (that were almost running to keep up with her pace).

It was an amazing sight to see how much Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy apparently hated each other's guts. But Cecile Vector was fairly sure there was something underneath that indiscriminate loathing. She knew there was a reason, and in the four years she had been teaching them, she had narrowed the options to two: either Draco was envious of Hermione, or he was deeply in love with her.

At first sight, it was quite ludicrous to even think of Draco Malfoy in love with a Muggle-born. In fact, the sole idea of Draco Malfoy in love with anyone was simply unthinkable. The boy was so like his father that Cecile doubted that there was anything that Draco could not get some benefit from. She had been watching him ever since his first Arithmancy class when he was a third year, and committing a huge mistake, had paired him with Hermione Granger. That memory she still kept inside her head.

"Now we will practice what we have learned so far," Cecile Vector was saying on the fourth lesson with the third years. "You will work in pairs, get your partner's birth number, and write about its main personality traits." she looked sharply at her ten students. "Ackerley, you work with Everett; Bones, with Graham; Boot with Perks; Williams with Moon; McGregor with Montague; Parker with Brocklehurst and Malfoy, you work with Granger. You have half an hour to do this - Yes, Granger?" she added, seeing Hermione's raised hand.

Hermione glared at the blond boy behind her before reaching Vector's desk. "Professor, is there any way to change partners?"

"No," Vector replied firmly, eyeing her curiously. "Why do you want to, anyway?"

"Because Malfoy and I don't get along very well, and I'd really like to get my work done nicely," she replied, after a couple of seconds. Vector noticed that Draco was looking at Hermione's back with an expression of the most utter hatred, but had not dared to speak a word of protest.

"Nonsense, Granger. You should seize this as an opportunity to improve your outer-house relationships, then." And she continued grading the papers she had in front of her, taking no notice that Hermione was near tears.

Somehow, the first ten minutes of the lesson went on peacefully. The only sounds were the scratching of the quills on the parchment and the discussions between the students in low tones, until a loud yell coming from Hermione Granger invaded the classroom.

"Stop it, Malfoy! I'm sick of you!" and looking at Vector, a pleading look in her brown eyes, she added, "I'm sorry, Professor, but I just can't work like this."

"And is that a reason for yelling in my classroom?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. She was aware of the nine pairs of eyes looking at her in awe. "I promise it won't happen again, Professor, as long as I don't have to work with him. I just can't maintain control." As she said this, she directed a disdainful look in Draco's direction, who, it seemed, took no notice.

"Very well, Granger. You will work alone then, although I'm still deducting ten points from Gryffindor. There's never a reason for yelling in my class," And looking at Draco, she added, "You too will be working alone, Malfoy."

Her nose in the air, Hermione separated her desk from Draco's, and placed it in the farthest corner of the room, away from the blond boy. Draco didn't bother with moving, but for a while, all he did was stare at her back, glaring.

As expected, Draco and Hermione's scores were the highest. It was still inconceivable for Vector that two minds of such brilliance were incapable of working together. After that first intent, almost four years had passed before she decided to try it again, and it had all ended with a detention, and twenty points less for each house.

Arriving to the dungeons brought her back to reality. "Here we are," she said to her students, and knocked softly on the door.

"Come in." Snape's voice answered. Vector nodded at her students, and opened the door, which lead to Snape's office: A medium sized, circular room, with thick, brick walls and stone floor. Although it had no windows, two small lamps placed at each side of Snape's oak desk gave enough light and a vague sensation of warmth. Three wooden shelves, full of thick books and strangely (at least in Hermione's opinion.) a ceramic pot with two blooming chrysanthemum and an unlit and seemingly broken fireplace completed the picture.

"Good evening, Cecile," said Snape, without looking up from the papers he was grading.

"Good evening, Severus."

For an instant, Hermione looked at Draco, who was looking at her, and both of them raised their right eyebrow. It seemed impossible, but Hermione was sure they were thinking the same. Why in the name of Merlin were they speaking on a first name basis? As far as she knew, Snape never spoke that way, to anyone.

"I'll leave them to you, Severus. I expect a detailed report of their behavior tomorrow," said Vector. Snape merely nodded. "And don't hesitate on taking points."

Snape chuckled slightly, and stood up to lead her to the door. "Do not worry about them. You have left them in good hands. Sleep well."

"Same to you, Severus," said Vector before closing the door behind her. Snape lingered his hand in the doorknob for half a second before he turned around and directed a glare at the two students, as if realizing they were still there.

"What are you staring at, Miss Granger?" he growled. Instantly, Hermione blushed and looked down noticing, not without some resentment, that Draco had been staring too, and had not been reprimanded. He's a Slytherin, of course, she thought bitterly. "Nothing, Professor."

"Right..." said Snape, and opened the door to the laboratory, muttering an unlocking spell Hermione didn't catch. "I still need to finish grading the fourth-year essays, so I won't be accompanying you, but as sixth year students, I believe - and expect - that both of you are familiar with the making of a Dreamless Sleep potion. Or am I mistaken?"

"No sir," said Hermione while Draco simply shook his head.

"Very well, so you'll be able to complete your detention without my assistance. I need you to make a complete batch of potion for Madam Pomfrey. Mister Malfoy," he handed Draco a small silvery key and an ingredient list, "I suspect there's enough supply, but if you need anything, here's the key for the stores. I'll check with you in more or less an hour and a half. And the cauldrons are in that cupboard," Snape added, pointing at the farther corner of the room.

Draco nodded and as soon as Snape had closed the door, he walked towards the cupboard and got out a medium-sized pewter cauldrons. He placed it on the floor and glanced at the ingredient list Snape had left them. "Let's see... there's fluxweed, asphodel, powdered root of ginger, crushed snake fangs, leech juice..." He glanced at Hermione, who was leaning on the wall, her arms crossed, waiting for him to speak. "Granger, go and open the white cupboard to get everything, although I think we're going to have to pay a visit to the stores for tricorn powder."

"Excuse me? Since when you acquired the right of ordering me around, Malfoy?" snapped Hermione, clearly irritated. Draco rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"Peace, Granger. Do you actually think I wanted this?" She said nothing, urging him to continue. "All I want to do is finish this quickly and go to bed, and I expect you want the same, unless... " he smirked. "You find me so bloody irresistible that you'd actually risk your clean record just to share a detention with me."

Hermione was biting her lip so hard to resist the urge to slap him that she was already tasting the metallic tang of blood. "You wish, Malfoy," she said simply, and as she opened another cupboard to get the ingredients they needed, Draco, being the keen observer he was, could make out a sly smile forming in her mouth. Finally, the opening he needed.

Reading the etiquettes, Hermione quickly gathered the small bottles: leeches, fluxweed, asphodel, ginger roots... and just as Malfoy had said, the tricorn powder was missing. "There's no powder, Malfoy."

Draco, who was filling the cauldrons with water, looked up. "I'll go get it, then. Luckily it's the last ingredient, so you can start peeling the roots and warming the water while I'm gone." To his surprise, she nodded as she opened the bottle containing the ginger roots.

It was not difficult to find the vials with the powder, as they were in the first shelf to the right of the huge closet. When he got back, Hermione had barely lighted the fire to warm the water and had started to peel the roots.

"Want a hand with those?" he offered, leaving the vial on one of the desks, and she nodded gratefully, looking up. Peeling ginger roots was not an easy and clean task, and there were still many to go.

"Who would have thought, huh?" Draco said as he reached for one of the knives.

"Who would have thought what?"

"You know, Vector and Snape, honestly--"

Hermione opened her eyes widely: she was deeply surprised. "Wait a moment there... Merlin! Malfoy, I think we have just agreed on something."

Draco raised one fair eyebrow, looking at her quizzically. "And what about it?"

"Well, you know, you and I aren't supposed...Oh, never mind." she replied, finding herself blushing profusely, and suddenly interested in counting how many ginger roots there were left to peel.

"No, tell me," Draco said, getting near her. She backed against the wall, not meeting his grey eyes. "Are you afraid?" he added, still unsure whether using her first name would sound too suspicious.

"Of course not."

"Then why are you backing away from me?" he said softly, looking at her brown eyes. There was a moment of silence as he got nearer her, his face inches away from hers. He leaned over, but in just a second, as if reacting, she broke eye contact and pushed him away slightly.

"I am most certainly not backing away from you!" she replied, irritated, and pointed to the cauldron. "Now, could we please finish this?"

Damn, thought Draco, missed! He had to do something about the situation, because he knew that if there wasn't at least a snog, Blaise would consider the evening wasted. Still, this surely wasn't the proper approach for witches with high intelligence levels, such as the Mudblood's. Even though he despised her, Draco had never doubted her brilliance, and knew for a fact that if he tried anything out of the ordinary with her, she would immediately suspect him. Without giving the matter much thought, he decided that the best thing to do at the moment was to gain her friendship first, even if he had never tried that before with a girl.

* * * * * * * * * *

Focusing on adding the peeled roots and the cut fluxweed to the boiling cauldron correctly, Hermione waited for her heartbeat to slow down to its normal pace. She pinched herself softly, just to be sure the whole situation wasn't part of a very weird dream, or perhaps a very weird nightmare.

Why in the name of bloody Merlin had Draco Malfoy, her worst enemy, tried to kiss her? If he had, for that matter. This couldn't be happening. Malfoy didn't just kiss Muggle-borns out of the blue.

"Granger." Draco's soft voice interrupted her train of thought. "Finished with the roots there?" As expected, he spoke as if nothing had happened. Damn Pureblood pride.

Hermione nodded. "Did you crush the snake fangs?" she added, in the same tone. Nothing has happened here Malfoy, but two can play that silly game of yours, you'll see.

"Affirmative. Here you go." He gave her a handful of the grey powder. "It's already measured."

Hermione sprinkled the powder over the reddish bubbling liquid, turning it a clear shade of silver. She looked up at him. "Time to stir," and handed him the stirring spoon.

"Is your capacity to rationalize on strike, Granger?" he said, not taking the spoon. "I cannot stir. That is the task appointed to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Malfoy, I've done everything else. It's your turn to do something, for once." She handed him the spoon once more, but he didn't took it still.

"Are you accusing me of uselessness? Do I have to enumerate all the deeds I've been able to achieve thus far in the accomplishment of this enterprise?"

"Could you drop that silly proper wording-- thing of yours?" said Hermione, clearly irked, a hand over her hip. "You are stirring, Malfoy, because I'm totally knackered after peeling, crushing and cutting for the best part of an hour. The rest of the procedure needs the complete attention of us both, and you're quite fresh." She handed over the spoon once more, and Draco took it reluctantly, not without mumbling some cutting remark Hermione didn't catch. Not that she cared anyway. She was so tired she was willing to let it pass. Just for this one time, she thought before collapsing on a nearby chair.

* * * * * * * * * *

Why am I following the Mudblood's orders again? Draco thought bitterly. He had to think of everything that was at stake if he lost that bet: The cloak, his reputation, his pride, and above everything else, he would be loosing any chance he might have with Blaise. Think of her, he reminded himself as he stirred the bubbling liquid, which was now an intense shade of violet. The only ingredient left was the tricorn powder, which would ultimately turn the potion bright purple, and after adding a cooling charm for preservation purposes, they would be done for the evening.

"Pass the powder, if you please Granger. It's time," he said, looking at her. Hermione glanced at the cauldron, and nodded, filling a small spoon with some and handing it to him. "Thank you," he added, and noticed (with a glint of satisfaction) that she had directed a smile at him. Evening not entirely wasted, after all, he thought.

"What are you waiting for, Malfoy?" her voice got him out of his thoughts. "Add the powder before it turns darker, or else the potion will be completely useless," she prompted.

"Do you think I don't know that, Granger?" said Draco, irritably, as he sprinkled the powder. "Contrary to the popular belief, I actually get good marks in Potions out of my own merits, not because any special fixation Snape might have on me, or on any Slytherin, for that matter."

Hermione crossed her arms, and shook her head in amusement. "And you are expecting me to believe that, Malfoy? Contrary to the popular belief," she remarked, on the same tone he had used on her previously, "I'm not a bit as naive as you may think I am."

"Believe what you want, Granger. I don't give a damn, really," Draco replied, not being able to think of a more suitable retort in time. Taking a glimpse at the cauldron, he added, "the potion is done."

"Refrigero!" Hermione muttered, pointing her wand to the steaming liquid, which cooled to the point of near freeze. "Should we leave the potion in the cauldron?" she asked, all earlier comments apparently forgotten, to which at least a part of him was grateful.

"I think we'd better ask Snape," he replied, and as if on cue, the teacher in question opened the door and entered the laboratory. Beaming at him, Draco added, "excellent timing, Professor."

Hermione scowled, and muttered "Suck up" loudly enough for only Draco to hear, and he winked at her.

Snape, who was seemly oblivious to the entire exchange, inspected the liquid in the cauldron, and looked at the two students in a way that could be considered as... satisfactory. And getting that kind of looks from Snape being in Gryffindor was a luxury. "As expected, you both did an admirable job. I won't be deducting any points from your respective houses today, although I still cannot understand how in the name of Merlin you were able to work together, and considerably silently." He pointed his hand at the door. "You're free to go. Your work here is done."

The two of them nodded at the Potions master, and exited the laboratory, leaving him with a small grin on his lips.

They walked together through the long and dark corridor, until they arrived to its end, where each of them had to take a different path.

"Goodnight, Granger," Draco muttered, before Hermione was too far away. She turned around, certainly surprised.

"Sleep well, Malfoy," was the only thing she was able to reply, and the blond boy smiled at her before going on his way. She stared in disbelief in the direction he had taken for a couple of seconds, before shaking her head and walking towards her common room, which lay right ahead. An odd ending to an equally odd evening, she thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Draco smiled to himself as he made his way towards the Slytherin dungeon. The "bond" (not knowing what other way to call it) between himself and the Mudblood was indubitably showing improvement. He was quite proud of himself to say the least, to have had the idea of the friendship approach, even if it was going to show results in the long run. Better in the long run than no results at all, anyway, he thought as he muttered the password.

"What took you so long?" a high-pitched voice asked as soon as Draco entered the common room through the stonewall. He could have figured Blaise was going to wait up for him. She was sitting on one of the armchairs nearest to the fire, and was wearing a pair of lose dark green pants and a white tank top, her pyjamas, most probably.

"Dreamless Sleep potion," Draco said simply, collapsing into a chair nearby. He hadn't realized how tired he was. But Blaise was not going to let him have his well-earned rest until she had a full report on the evening's events.

"So? How did it go? Any snogs?" she asked hopefully. Draco shook his head.

"Nope, no snogs, Zabini. Sorry to disappoint you. But," Blaise's head tilted up instantly. "I've got a better idea, at least a less-suspicious one: I'm resorting to friendship, at least in the early stages."

To his surprise, Blaise laughed, but hers was certainly not a nice laugh. He actually hated to hear her do so. "Right... And you expect that'll work, especially with her? C'mon Malfoy, even if you could become a close friend of hers, do you think it would give us the results we need? Just see her interact with Weasley and Potter, and you'll see what I mean. If your theory had a grain of truth, the Mudblood would have snogged at least one of them ages ago."

Draco closed his eyes to think. He had to admit Blaise had a point. What was assuring him that becoming the Mudblood's friend implied a clear path to do everything else with her? For all he knew, she could be the kind of girls who would never do anything improper with a friend. But he still had to give it a try. Anyway, it was the safest course of action to be taken.

"I'm still doing it, Zabini," he said dryly. "It's the only substantial plan we have, and something tells me it may work," he stood up and started to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's nearly midnight and I'm exhausted. Pleasant dreams, Zabini."

Closing the door behind him, he realized, not without some resentment, that Blaise hadn't even bothered to say goodnight.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *