Chapter 9:  Draco Has Some Insight

Hermione stood without moving, staring at Sirius. She had stunned him. She had attacked him. There was a gut-wrenching pain in the pit of Hermione's stomach and she stumbled forward.

"Sirius?" She kneeled next to him touching his arm, knowing that he couldn't respond, knowing that he was unconscious because of her.

"Get away from him, Hermione."

She had almost forgotten Draco. Hermione turned to him now, "help me get him inside."

Draco didn't move he held his wand pointed at Sirius' chest. "Move; Hermione, I don't want to hit you."

"You have to help me get him inside," Hermione felt tears catching in her already aching throat.

"Get him inside? Why in the world would we want him inside? Get out of the way!" Draco's gray eyes were flashing.

Hermione linked her hands around Sirius' arm and tried to lift him. She wasn't going to cry again, she wasn't going to let herself. "Help me!" She commanded to Draco yet again.

"Don't tell me that this is some sort of left-over vestige of nobleness. The man is a murderer; he'll just go to Azkaban. I'd rather finish him off myself." Draco reached down trying to extricate Hermione.

"He's not a murderer, please, he's one of us." Hermione's brown eyes pleaded with him and Draco, who hadn't been able to deny her anything in years growled and pulled her off of Sirius.

"Mobilicorpus!" Draco muttered and Sirius' body rose off the ground.

Hermione, who had feared the worst when Draco had pulled her from Sirius, visibly relaxed. "We need to get him inside before someone sees." She told him and the two entered the flat.

Draco walked Sirius into the living room. As if reading his mind Hermione called after him as she stopped to lock the door.

"On the sofa, please, not the floor."

She turned the locks, warded the door, and followed after Draco. He had just deposited Sirius into an ungainly heap on the couch and was glaring darkly at the prone form. When Hermione approached he turned from Sirius.

"Are you all right?" Draco hesitated then touched Hermione's cheek gently.

Hermione wanted to smile, wanted to put on the face that would assure him that she was all right. But after Harry and Ron, no one knew her better than Draco Malfoy, even if the rest of the world thought they were mortal enemies.

"I've been better." She responded softly.

Draco nodded, "yeah, me too."

His honest admittance brought a slight smile to her lips and Hermione let him pull her into a hug. Her cheek resting on the lapels of his perfectly tailored charcoal robes. She sniffled softly.

"If you're going to cry, let me know and I'll give you a handkerchief, these robes are new." Draco kidded gently.

"I am not going to cry you great prat." Hermione pushed back from him, her eyes defiant but amused. "Come on, I'll brew some coffee."

Draco laughed, "right, and pigs will fly out of." He stopped as Hermione scowled.

~*~*~*~

"Why is he here?" Draco poured cream into his mug with well- manicured fingertips.

Hermione pulled her eyes away from the living room. "He's Harry's godfather. He wants to know what happened to Ron and Harry."

"You never told me about him." Draco said neutrally.

Hermione studied him closely. His hair was just as pale as it ever had been in their days at Hogwarts. It hung loosely down covering his eyes. He wasn't looking at her now, only studying the fingers of one hand. Harry and Ron never missed a chance to mention how pale he was. But it hardly mattered; no one could deny that Draco had definitely grown into his looks. He was considered by many to be a highly eligible bachelor in the wizarding world. He was very rich and very successful. There was a constant bevy of lovely witches vying for his attention and Hermione had lost count of the number of engagement announcements that had appeared in the Daily Prophet, or the number of broken ones. He was normally cool and collected, his sharp wit was rivaled by very few. But Hermione could see through all of his masks.

"It was a secret." She told him gently.

Draco looked up her, "you know what he did, don't you? He killed Potter's parents."

Hermione shook her head quickly, "no, no he didn't. It was Peter Pettigrew."

"Pettigrew is dead Hermione." Draco's voice was sharp. "Black killed him along with a whole bunch of muggles, you know this."

Hermione quailed inwardly, why had they never told him the truth? There had been reasons once but Hermione couldn't remember them now. She had done so much lying. "Peter Pettigrew isn't dead Draco. You've met him, many times."

"Where would I have met him?" A touch of aggravation was creeping into his voice.

"He's one of Voldemort's most faithful followers. He goes by the alias of Wormtail now. He helped Voldemort create a new body in our fourth year. He's the reason why Voldemort came back." Hermione bit her lip and looked away from Draco.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked in an expressionless voice.

"I don't know why."

It was true; Hermione didn't know why they had never told him. There were others that knew, and beyond Harry and Ron, she trusted no one as much as Draco. They had just gotten so caught up in their secrets. Tell only what is needed, no more. Secrets kept you safe.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

He was watching her closely, "don't be sorry," he said finally. "It was probably better that I not know anyway."

But neither of them believed that.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked suddenly having just remembered the most obvious of questions.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right. Everyone knows that you have secluded yourself. You're lucky that very few people know where you live or else you would have a houseful of concerned visitors."

Hermione smiled, "that's very considerate of you Draco. What is your other reason for being here?"

"My deep concern for your well-being isn't enough?" Draco asked in mock insult.

She had no trouble seeing through his attempt at humor. "What has happened?"

Draco sighed softly, "the game is up I'm afraid." At Hermione's questioning look he elaborated, "Lucius has put things together about me. The unfortunate relocation of targeted families before they could be visited by Voldemort, the amazing luck of you three, I think he had been suspecting me of treason for quite some time now."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Draco reached across the table and took her hand in his own. "I don't think I would have wanted to carry on now that Potter and Weasley are gone. It seems almost pointless."

"No!" Hermione pulled her hand away, "it's never pointless, don't think that. If you think that then Voldemort wins!"

"Hermione, they're dead, he's already won."

"You're wrong," Hermione retorted defiantly.

A rueful smile appeared on Draco's face, "always the crusader."

Hermione propped her elbow on the table then leant her chin into the palm of her hand. Soft brown curls hid her face. It was an old defensive technique. She knew what it was. It was so often easier to hide than stand strong and face the world. She wanted to tell him so badly. She wanted to ease the pain that was so plainly there. He would never admit to mourning their deaths. Draco would claim that he only helped them because of her. But he looked so broken. Hermione would have given anything to be able to grant him back his two favorite enemies.

"Sirius should be waking up soon." Hermione said instead.

Draco looked over his shoulder at the sofa where Sirius was still unconscious. "He isn't going to be pleased about my staying here."

"You're staying where?" Hermione asked.

"Didn't I mention that?" Draco smirked, "I need a place to lay low for a few days. Make Lucius think that I have already left Britain. It wouldn't be safe for me to leave now, he's watching all the apparating ports."

"Yes, that does make sense."

"He's just dying to crucify me for his Lord." Draco muttered.

"I doubt that would be good for your complexion Malfoy." Hermione teased and was rewarded with another smile.

"Go wake up your convict Granger."

But it was too late for that. Sirius had already woken up. Hermione turned in her chair and found him staring at her, a look of betrayal painfully visible on his face. His eyes had never been darker. Hermione shivered in their depths.

"You are a traitor." His words cut Hermione like nothing ever had before.

She opened her mouth, trying to think of a way to explain, of a way to make him understand but his eyes wouldn't let her go.

"No," Draco replied for her, "I'm the traitor."

Sirius didn't acknowledge that Draco had spoken at all. He continued to stare at Hermione as if seeing her for the very first time in his life.

But Hermione had heard Draco, and she found strength in his words, enough strength that she was able to speak. "I'm not a traitor, Sirius. Draco is a spy."

"How long?" Sirius demanded.

Hermione finally broke the gaze and glanced over her shoulder at Draco, "since, since the beginning I suppose."

"He's a Death Eater, Hermione!' Sirius pointed angrily at Draco.

"She knows that," Draco replied evenly, "she was one of the first ones to know."

"Harry, Ron, did they know?" Sirius asked as if he hadn't heard Draco speak.

"Yes," Hermione answered, "they knew. Like I said, Draco has been spying on Voldemort for us for years. How do you think we've managed to be so successful?"

"Successful?" Sirius' balled his hands into fists and spoke slowly trying to control his temper. "Hermione, they're dead!"

Hermione stood so quickly that the chair fell backward. Both men were so surprised that neither said anything. "I know that they're dead. Why does everyone have this sick fascination in reminding me? I know that Harry and Ron are gone. I know that their rooms are empty. I know that we won't listen to the Cannons game on the radio tomorrow. I know that we won't be going to the Weasleys' for Christmas. I know this better than anyone else. Why must you all constantly remind me? What's wrong with you?" Her voice reached a pitch that made Draco wince and she stopped abruptly.

"Hermione," Sirius reached out towards her but she stepped out of reach.

"I'm going to make something for supper." Hermione glared darkly at Sirius, "if you cannot be civil I swear that I will hex you and leave you outside on the stoop to freeze. And you," Hermione turned to look at Draco, "do not aggravate him intentionally or you shall suffer the same fate. This is my flat, you are my guests, and I expect you all to show some common decency, it has been sorely lacking so far."

Hermione stalked into the kitchen and there was no other sound for quite some time other than the angry banging of pots and pans.

In the end, Hermione had ordered Indian food from the restaurant around the corner. She had never been very good at cooking. No matter how many times Harry told her that cooking was just like Potions, Hermione had never been able to make things taste right. Her spaghetti tasted like toast and her toast tasted oddly like peas. The only thing that she had ever been able to make and have it taste like it was supposed to was porridge. That did not sound like much of a supper.

Harry loved tandoori chicken. Ron would treasure every bite of his curry. Hermione could eat couscous speckled with sun-dried tomatoes every day of her life. But neither Sirius nor Draco seemed terribly inclined to eat. Hermione doubted that it had anything to do with the food though. They refused to speak to each other. If they were dogs they would probably be marking their territory. Of course, Sirius could be a dog if he wanted. Hermione bit her lip hard to stop the giggle that wanted to escape as she pictured Sirius claiming her flat.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked.

Sirius just glared.

"Nothing, just a bizarre thought, that's all."

The rest of the meal was spent in grueling silence. After the dishes had been cleared away and the leftovers packed back into their Styrofoam containers Hermione set to work on the books she had acquired earlier that day. Her approach was analytical and structured as always. The books were outlined in a muggle notebook, the books were then sorted, the piles the arranged according to purpose. Her process required so many steps that it was quite late before she had even opened one of her knew books.

"You're still working on the banishing spell?" Draco asked from over her shoulder.

"She shouldn't be concerning herself with Voldemort at a time like this." Sirius said gruffly from where he leaned caustically against the other wall, his arms folded across his chest.

Draco, who Hermione knew from his tone agreed with Sirius, scowled at the other man, "it's good for her to keep her mind off of things."

"This is keeping her mind off of things? Spending all of her time reading about banishment spells?"

"You have met Hermione before, haven't you? This is what she does, all the time, a bit of a bookworm in case you haven't noticed." Draco retorted.

Hermione slammed her book shut and rose, "I am sitting right here."

Both men looked rather repentant. But Hermione found that she was too tired to listen to their apologies and she waved them off.

"I'm going to bed." Hermione walked towards her room then stopped, "Draco?" She asked.

Sirius' scowl deepened and Draco sent him a triumphant look that Hermione would have seen even if she were blind. He crossed to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Really?" He asked.

She knew that he was joking; it was a common ruse that he had often used to annoy Ron and Harry. But Sirius couldn't know that and the man visibly bristled.

"He can't very well sleep in Ron or Harry's room, can he?" She asked Sirius gently, hoping to make him understand that it wasn't as it looked like.

"He shouldn't be sleeping here at all." Sirius growled.

"Neither should you," Draco told him coldly before walking into her room.

Hermione appealed silently to Sirius to understand, to not make this into something that it wasn't but he had already turned his back to her and she was left with no choice but to follow Draco.

~*~*~*~

She was staring at the ceiling. It was dark and shadowed but Hermione knew that in the day it was white with delicately scalloped plaster. She aught to be sleeping, Hermione knew that she was exhausted. Yet sleep was held at bay. Groaning softly Hermione rolled onto her side, the thick down comforter bunching around her body. She peeked her head over the edge of the bed and found herself confronted with a pair of eyes.

"You are still awake." She told him stupidly.

"How could anyone go to sleep with you tossing and turning like that?" He responded without bite.

"I'm sorry." She muttered contritely.

"You know Granger, you've got nice floors in this flat." Draco knocked on one with his hand, "good strong hardwood. I did mention the hard part, yes?"

Hermione knew where this was heading, "Absolutely not Malfoy. I am not sharing my bed with you."

"Oh come on, what do you need all that room for?"

"It's a matter of principle." Hermione retorted.

"I promise to keep my hands to myself, not that you'll want me to. No woman can resist my delectable presence." Draco told her candidly.

Hermione snorted in disbelief, pulled the pillow out from under her head, and dropped it on his arrogant face. Draco caught it easily and chuckled.

"Shh." Hermione hissed, "You'll wake up Sirius."

"Don't worry," Draco tossed the pillow back onto the bed, "he's not sleeping."

Hermione looked at the door, there wasn't any light shining from beneath her door. "How do you know that?"

"I know because if he was in here and I was out there, I wouldn't be asleep either."

Hermione rolled up onto one arm and looked down at Draco, "if the two of you are going to stay here then you need to stop feuding, it's getting on my nerves."

Draco chuckled again, "Hermione, this has very little to do with me and a lot to do with you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was sharp.

Draco sat up in order to look at her better, "don't you know?"

"Obviously not." She snapped.

Draco smirked, "you are the most naïve girl that I have ever met." Even in the dark he could see her face begin to pink with indignation. "It's not a bad thing, I've always found it rather endearing to tell you the truth."

Hermione laid back and stared at the ceiling again not responding. They were quiet for several minutes and Hermione thought that Draco must have drifted off to sleep. But he hadn't.

"He's jealous," Draco's voice was low the amusement was missing.

"Jealous," Hermione questioned softly, "of what?

"I would think that it would be apparent." But Hermione didn't find it apparent so Draco explained, "he's jealous because I'm in here and he's not."

"That's ridiculous." Hermione replied.

Draco didn't say anything more. After a few minutes Hermione knew that he had fallen asleep. But Hermione still couldn't sleep. She wasn't sure what Draco had meant. There was the obvious meaning, but he couldn't possibly be right. Sirius saw her as little more than a friend of Harry's who he didn't quite approve of. She rolled over onto her other side, her hand reaching out to stroke the satin trim of the other pillowcase. With a muffled curse Hermione slipped silently off the bed. She had been suddenly overwhelmed with the urge for a glass of cold pumpkin juice.

The doorknob was cool in her hand. It turned noiselessly. Hermione kept it charmed to keep it from squeaking. Harry was a notoriously light sleeper, and Hermione was prone to late night cravings. She started to pass through the doorway but stopped. Draco had been right Sirius was awake.

The older man was sitting on the sofa across from her door; he was slouched forward, his elbows resting on his knees while his hands were clasped together in front of him, his eyes lost in contemplation. He became aware that her door had opened and from even across the room Hermione could see his eyes refocus on her. He stood hastily his eyes meeting hers. Hermione gasped at what she saw there, if only for a moment, it was a look of such want that it inspired an almost equal longing in her. But it was gone so quickly; Hermione found herself doubting it and her own reaction.

"I...I wanted something to drink." Hermione told him feeling incredibly stupid.

Sirius nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Hermione stood in the doorway of her room, her hands threaded together with a nervousness that she couldn't place. Sirius returned almost at once, a glass in his hand. He held it out to her and Hermione cautiously took it from his hand. Their fingers touched and Hermione pulled back abruptly, the pumpkin juice sloshing.

"Thank you," Hermione mumbled looking away. She pulled back into her room, paused, then spoke again, "good night Sirius."

"Good night Hermione."

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