Clandestine Whispers

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, okay?! She's the witch who cast the spell, I'm just a spellbound being saying hello to the webs of her spell. So don't sue me. I am an innocent fan.

>>>>>2 Library Encounter

"I'm going over to the library, okay? I need some studying time alone without you and your crazy chess. I'll see you guys later." Harry and Ron both waved neither looking up from their chess game. "Bye Hermione!" "Tell of us if you get any tips about how to do the potions homework! See ya!"

An armful of books in her arms, Hermione stepped out of the Gryffindor common room, and walked to the library. Plopping her large pile of thick books on the desk, she took out a piece of parchment, and opening up her transfiguration book, began to work on the assignment that was due the next day. Her brow furrowed slightly, eyes never blinking, head bent down, mouth moving in mutters, quill scribbling across the page furiously, she truly appeared to be the studious high-standard girl everyone saw her to be.

~~*~~

Malfoy sighed, smoothing back a lock of slickly gelled hair. This transfiguration class is such a bother. He was thankful for the impending evening. No one ever came around the library at this time, because everyone was in their common rooms squeezing in free time before dinner. No one would be around except prefects, and he was one, and besides, none of the other prefects talked to him anyway. It would be embarrassing if anyone saw him in this state, tired, studying, and flustered. He'd been having a bad day ever since that morning with the envelope.

Speaking of the envelope, what had been in it?

Brushing away this distracting thought, he yawned, and stretched out back against his chair, his muscles loosening from their previous exhaustion. He pulled back, however, when his hand hit up against something. And it wasn't a chair either. Who could be...?

He slowly turned around, eyes narrowing. Someone else was studying?

Oh.

Of course.

Granger.

~~*~~

Hermione jumped, dropping her Sugar Quill, as suddenly she felt a hand land on her shoulder, fingertips grazing her skin. It had been a long time since she had worn her robes entirely covering everything but her neck and face, because the weather was warming, and with almost everyone getting ready for Parent Visitation and a school vacation coming up soon, she wasn't embarrassed to be seen wearing muggle clothes and a Hogwarts cloak. She became self-conscious about wearing a tank top and jean-material skirt, however, as she realized she was not alone in what she had thought to be her sanctuary.

Slowly turning her head, she gazed up towards a pair of steel grey-blue eyes, slick gelled-back blonde hair, and a disapproving slight frown. "Malfoy," she asked, her tone of voice not showing her surprise and slight irritation, "what are you doing here? And why?" She became very aware of his hand still on her shoulder. How long had it been since anyone's skin touched hers? His hand was cold.

"I could ask you the same thing, Granger. Aren't your parents visiting today?" She bristled slightly, as his tone of voice on the word 'your' and 'parents" spoke clearly that he mocked her, since she was muggle-born.

"Why no, Malfoy, in fact, they are not. Don't you know that muggles aren't allowed in Hogwarts? There is an illusion hiding the castle from all muggle eyes. There's no way any muggles could get in here, parents of students, or not." Draco, apparently, had nothing to say about this, although a flicker of annoyance did flare in his gaze momentarily.

Hermione pointed her Sugar Quill at him accusingly, saying, "And what about you, Malfoy? Aren't you going to show off your parents to us unworthy muggle-born; won't you show us how alike you are to your great, powerful, Pureblood father?"

Her satisfaction of having come up with a sarcastic comeback was cut off, as suddenly, his hand gripped her shoulder tightly, and she was swung out of her chair. He slammed her against the wall, hard. She gasped for breath as Draco's cold, thin hands grasped her throat. "Don't talk to me like that; you don't know anything about how I feel or about my father." He gave her a vicious push back, making her hit her head against the wall. "Don't. You. Ever. Dare. Speak. About my father. Ever. Again. And if you ever compare me to him again you'll find your throat cut in the middle of the night! You... you bloody arse-headed fool!"

Hermione wondered, through her pain, why he was so touchy about the subject. Longing for breath, she managed to gasp between choked breaths, "You do know...That...you're touching a Mudblood, right? Aren't you afraid of touching dirty skin?"

His voice coming out in a hiss, he replied, "If it was your skin that was contaminated, I wouldn't be calling you Mudblood, now would I, Granger?"

Hearing this did not make Hermione feel any better. In fact, she was getting angry now. Just as she was beginning to consider kneeing him where the sun doesn't shine, his hands slid slowly from her neck. Gasping for breath, she watched and listened, as he turned around, saying, "Promise me never to talk about my family and me ever again, and especially my father, than I promise not to call you Mudblood anymore." Here he turned back, his glare so menacing, lip curled maliciously, eyes filled with such anger and hatred, that Hermione barely repressed a shiver. "However, Granger," his voice, once more in the snarling drawl instead of angry hiss, dripped with implied violence, "You may insult me as much as you want. BUT, never behind my back. You can rage and blaspheme me to my face as much as you want, but never, ever insult a Malfoy behind his back."

With that said, Malfoy briskly walked away, his silent steps echoing the blankness Hermione felt.

~~*~~

Hermione had been sitting, slumped against the library wall, for a long time. She had been thinking over and over about every word Malfoy had said to her. It was by far the longest and most dreadful conversation she had ever had with him. He had actually managed to frighten her, when he shoved her against the wall, choking her. Her throat hurt still, even now. She hadn't known Malfoy was so strong. His body was lean, and he was graceful, like a cat. And he always seemed to do his bullying verbally, rather than physically. But his hands had so harshly grasped at her like a noose being tightened around her neck. And she had felt his strength, the force of his muscles, through his arms. Where had he become so suddenly strong? What a mystery they all were, the Malfoys.

Smiling grimly, Hermione made her decision, once and for all. Malfoy's vicious defense for his father, his unusual demeanor upon delivering the envelope this morning, and the fact that he had been studying, plus all the rumors and implications around the Malfoys, made her curious. Usually she would back off from such a challenge, but, her being older now, and Head Girl, she believed it was okay to turn some new leaves over in her life. Jaw set, she marched toward a bookshelf, determined to find all possible information about the Malfoy family. Especially Draco.