CHAPTER 2
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ Enlisting Aid
Hermione stood before the huge double doors and knocked. She was dressed in blue dress robes and had brushed her hair to soft curls. She wanted to make a positive impression. The door slowly opened and at first she didn’t see anyone.
“Can I helps you, Miss?” a squeaky voice asked.
Hermione looked down to see a house elf bobbing and looking up at her.
“Yes, I would like to see the Lord of the Manor,” she replied.
The elf widened the opening and beckoned her in. He held up his hand so she wouldn’t go any farther.
“I must asks the Master if he wishes company. Your name, Miss?” the elf asked, his ears wriggling back and forth.
“Hermione Granger,” Hermione replied.
“Please waits here, Miss Granger,” the elf said politely. Then it winked out.
Hermione idly looked around the Manor. The green and silver marble floors gleamed, and the wooden walls were smartly polished. Portraits lined the vast corridor, disappearing into the distance. They were almost all blonde-haired and snooty looking. The portraits that could see her looked at her distastefully. She could almost hear them whisper, “Mudblood.”
The elf winked in.
“The Lord will see you. Please follows me,” the elf said with a bow. He turned and began walking up the corridor, Hermione following him, feeling a bit self-conscious under the narrowed eyes of the paintings.
“Her like would have never been allowed on the premises, much less in the Manor itself in my day,” one blonde woman with ice-blue eyes sniffed to the portrait next to her as Hermione passed.
“These are different times, Mildred. They all mingle now,” the portrait next to her replied, his grey eyes following Hermione.
“Disgraceful,” Mildred hissed.
The elf led Hermione to a large, ornate wooden door and pushed it open.
“You may goes in, Miss,” he said, making a sweep with his scaly arm.
Hermione thanked the elf and entered a large library with a writing desk, several armchairs, a couch and a huge fireplace which contained a huge fire. But the room wasn’t hot. It must have been an illusion. She looked around and didn’t see anyone.
“Hello?” she ventured.
“Hello Hermione,” a smooth voice replied. A wizard rose from one of the armchairs facing the fire. He wore a smoking jacket, loose-fitting black silk trousers and held a brandy glass in his hand. “Imagine you paying me a visit after all this time.”
“Hello Draco,” Hermione said, giving the handsome blonde wizard a small smile.
“Come and sit down,” Draco said, gesturing at the armchair next to his. Hermione walked over, Draco’s eyes washing over her attire as she did so. Hermione took a seat, as did Draco. He looked at her curiously.
“How have you been?” he asked the witch.
“Fine. Still working in the private sector,” Hermione replied.
Draco shook his head.
“Such a shame. I wish you would have taken me up on my offer to be your patron. Your talents are wasted working the way you do. It will be years before you can afford your own labs to do your own research,” the wizard purred. “I would have built you your own labs as a perk.”
Hermione gave Draco another small smile.
“I might have been interested Draco, but after a little investigation and conversations with the other witches you so generously help, I decided I would rather work my own way to the top…rather than let you get on top, if you get my meaning,” she said, arching an eyebrow at the wizard.
As a patron, it seemed Draco got his own perks from the witches he helped.
He grinned at Hermione lasciviously.
“Well, being a patron does have its benefits,” he purred, “The witches are just showing me how grateful they are.”
“Yes, I can only imagine,” Hermione replied, scowling. “Reciprocal fucks every now and then.”
Draco shrugged.
“It’s a fair exchange. Plus the lion’s share of residuals. It works for me,” he smirked. “Now, would you like a drink? A cold pumpkin juice perhaps?”
“No…no thank you Draco. I came here to see if I could get your help,” she replied
Draco looked delighted.
“Help? From me? Now this could be interesting,” he said arching an eyebrow at Hermione speculatively.
“Yes, it’s about Harry,” Hermione said.
Draco sobered. In his last year of Hogwarts, Draco turned from the beliefs of his father having decided for himself that Voldemort should never be in power. He had received the mark and gone through the horrible, emasculating ritual at the age of seventeen, having to suffer through penetration by the Dark Lord. It was considered an act of submission, considered proof that a deatheater was a true servant. In the early days of Voldemort’s reign, this act of sexual dominance wasn’t required. Severus and Lucius had both escaped this fate. It was only after Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort that this ritual was instituted as a prerequisite to receiving the mark. Draco went through it because it was expected of him and he would have been deemed unfit and killed if he had protested. Given the choice of death or being buggered by the Dark Lord, Draco chose the buggering. Then he could live to seek his revenge.
Since he was the son of a most trusted servant, Draco was privy to witness the horrors the despot inflicted on others, including his own deatheaters. Like Severus Snape, he went to Dumbledore, and like Severus…he became a spy. He and Harry had come to terms, and while they weren’t best friends, they developed a respect for each other. It was Draco who had blasted the Dementor that attacked the boy-who-lived to bits, but he was too late to stop the entire process. He’d always felt rather guilty about that, though others felt he had done all he could.
“What about Harry? Is he all right?” Draco asked the witch, worry creasing his forehead.
“He is the same,” Hermione said, “Child-like. He can’t really do much for himself. Yet he laughs and cries so he does have rudimentary reactions. I’ve been trying to find a way to restore him for years, Draco…”
Draco nodded.
“I know,” he said quietly, studying the witch. She certainly was loyal to Harry.
“And I’ve exhausted every book searching for an answer…every book allowed by the Ministry, at least. I’ve come up empty. There were a few spells that looked promising but after doing calculations I found they weren’t powerful enough or didn’t work directly on the soul. I need something more,” she said, looking at the wizard intensely. “I need to access your godfather’s library.”
Draco’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You want to access WHAT?” he asked her, blanching a little.
“I need to study Professor Snape’s books of Dark Magic,” Hermione said, “One of them might hold the answer to restoring Harry’s shattered soul.”
Draco stood up, swallowed down the rest of his brandy in one gulp, put the glass on the small table between the armchairs and began pacing. After a moment, he stopped and looked at Hermione.
“Have you gone mad? He’d never allow that. He doesn’t let anyone near his books. Even asking about them is a good way to get hexed,” he said to her.
Severus might have been Draco’s godfather, but he didn’t give the wizard any special treatment. He was treated just as coldly and rudely as the next person. Draco was glad he had never had to go to the dark wizard for guardianship. He couldn’t imagine how horrible his life would have been, lurking in the dungeons until he reached adulthood. Draco hadn’t paid the snarky Potions Master a visit in over two years, and hadn’t missed him at all.
“Draco…Draco, I’m desperate…I just need you to get him to agree to see me…that’s all. You wouldn’t have to ask about the books or anything,” Hermione pleaded with the wizard. “It’s for Harry, Draco. For Harry.”
Dear gods. She was asking him to walk into the bowels of hell itself and face the devil in black.
“Hermione…” he began, shaking his head.
Hermione reached out and caught his hand.
“For Harry, Draco. If you won’t do it for me, do it for him,” she said, her amber eyes glistening with tears. “You’re my only way in.”
The tears began to roll down Hermione’s cheeks though she tried her best to contain them
Draco sighed. She’d done it. Turned on the waterworks. Draco wasn’t completely heartless. He hated seeing witches cry and folded like many wizards before him.
“All right. I’ll do it, Hermione…but you have to give me a couple of weeks to figure this out. My godfather would throw me out just as quickly as anyone else if he felt I was wasting his time. I have to figure out a way to make him amicable to meeting with you,” the blonde wizard said, looking thoughtful.
Hermione smiled through her tears and wiped at her eyes with her robes sleeve.
“Oh, thank you Draco, thank you so much,” the witch said, then she launched herself at the startled wizard and embraced him. Draco was tall and Hermione’s head rested on his chest as she squeezed him tightly.
“So, taking a walk on the dark side is the way to get a bit of bodily contact from you?” he purred, wrapping his arms around the witch and pulling her closer, grinning.
Hermione immediately began to struggle and Draco let her go, smiling broadly now.
“You’re very curvy,” he said to the witch, arching an eyebrow as he exaggeratedly let his eyes sweep over her.
He was teasing the witch of course. Not that he’d be adverse to a little tryst with Hermione, but he knew she just didn’t feel attracted to him in that way. Anyway, he valued her friendship and how she accepted him after all those years of torment. She had a generous heart. He didn’t want to risk losing her as a friend.
“And you’re very lecherous,” Hermione spat back at him, straightening her robes a bit angrily.
“I think it’s in my blood,” Draco responded.
His father had been a very lecherous man, and brutal as well. After Lucius’ death at the Final Battle, the first thing Draco had done was have his “playroom” dismantled and all his instruments of torture destroyed. His mother Narcissa was very disappointed in Draco for turning on the beliefs of his family and moved to a chateau in France when he took over the Manor, telling her son she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
Draco put money in his mother’s account every month and took care of the brunt of her bills in the hopes that one day she would see the error of her ways and they could reconcile.
Hermione bit back a comment about how easily blood could be spilled. He was going to help her after all. She looked at the wizard and saw the mirth in his eyes, realizing he was only teasing her. She smiled at him.
“Well, I’ve got to be going. I only have an hour for lunch,” the witch said.
Draco walked her to the study door, then down the corridor to the Manor’s entrance, where he opened the front door and Hermione stepped outside.
“I’ll send you an owl when I’ve managed to get the old bastard to grant you an audience,” he said to Hermione, “But it might take a while.”
Hermione looked up at Draco.
“That’s fine, Draco. I know if anyone can do it, you can,” she said, standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek. “Bye for now.”
“Goodbye, Hermione. Hopefully this won’t be a permanent goodbye and I’ll return in one piece from this quest you’re sending me on,” he replied.
“You’ll be fine,” she said over her shoulder as she walked down the staircase. At the bottom she disapparated.
Draco closed the door and walked up the corridor.
“I must be mad,” he said, shaking his head, “Stark raving mad.”
The wizard walked back to the study, poured himself another brandy and sat down in the armchair, staring into the fire.
Now how in the world was he going to approach Severus after two years of no contact? He doubted highly he was missed by the wizard, but more than likely Severus would use his absence as a reason not to grant him any favors. Besides, neither Hermione nor Harry were ever his favorite people. He had been tortured by Voldemort on many occasions because of their antics. And if there was one other thing Severus Snape was good at besides brewing, it was holding a grudge.
Draco sighed.
This was going to be a hard dragon’s egg to crack. But Draco was a Slytherin, and Slytherins were cunning, resourceful and rather underhanded when necessary.
He’d figure something out.
He had to.
Both Hermione and Harry were counting on him.
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A/N: Ah, a good Draco. Naughty and sexy too. Lol. Well, at least Hermione didn’t run to Severus with wand blasting. Let’s see how Draco manages to arrange a meeting…if he does. Severus hasn’t even entered the picture and I can already feel how dark he is. Man. Lol. Anyway, please review.