“If I can't come for some reason, come back again at the same time in the evening,” he told her.
“What if I can't come?” Hermione asked.
His eyes narrowed.
He was trying to determine what it was she did for the Order. Well, she wasn't interested in volunteering the information.
“I'll wait five minutes and assume you can't make it.”
“Fine,” she agreed flatly.
He smirked, and with a flick of his wand conjured a scroll of parchment which he held out to her.
“My first installment,” he drawled, leering at her again.
She took it from him and unrolled it partially, glancing at several maps and building blueprints.
“I'm trusting that Moody has the sense not to use everything at once,” he said.
“Your service will be one of the Order's most carefully protected secrets. You're useless once your cover's blown. We won't risk it.”
“Good,” he said with a cold voice. “I'll see you Tuesday then. Practice your occlumency.”
He vanished with a crack.
Chapter End Notes
Additional Illustrations:
Waiting at the shack by artemisia_flora.
Beautiful and damned by driareel.
April 2002
The next time she arrived at the shack, she had barely gotten through the door before Malfoy abruptly apparated in, nearly on top of her.
He grabbed her firmly, and backed her up against a wall as his lips crashed into hers.
Hermione barely had time to think or react. Her eyes widened in astonishment and as they did, his eyes met hers and he abruptly invaded her mind.
She had been so startled, her occlumency walls had fallen. The terrifying distraction of his body pressed against hers while he kissed her made it difficult to focus solely on the sensation of his mind tearing its way through her consciousness.
He skimmed through her recent memories; brewing an invisibility potion for the ring he'd given her, taking Lee Jordan and dropping him at St Mungo's. He found her memory of their previous meeting.
She could feel him experiencing it, even while she was also keenly aware of his lips moving away from hers and kissing along her jaw, while his hands slid along her body.
He started moving toward the memory of her conversation with Snape. No. She didn't want him to see that one. Even though she was confident he would know what she was trying to do, she didn't want him to have confirmation of it.
She forced herself not to pull the memory away or hide it. Instead she grabbed onto the first thing she could think of and jerked it forcefully back further into her memories. Malfoy had to have known it was a feint, but he gamely chased after it. After keeping it away from him for a few seconds, she let him catch it.
Malfoy abruptly jerked out of her mind and stepped away, shaking.
Hermione stared at him, expecting him to be enraged that she'd tricked him with that memory. Then she realized after a moment that he was laughing.
That felt more terrifying.
“Well done,” he said, still chuckling after a minute. “I expected it would take you longer before you'd be able to do it.”
Hermione was slumped against the wall, trying to recover herself from his combined mental and physical assault. A migraine was already steadily beginning to creep up on her.
“Is this the way you usually teach occlumency?” she said after a moment.
His lips quirked faintly.
“Only with you,” he said with a thin smile. “I can't have you doubting my sincerity, now can I? I needed to do something to catch you off guard. So—“ he shrugged. “Two gnomes, one kneazle. I'm sure you didn't expect me to keep my hands entirely to myself.”
Hermione fought back the urge to sneer at him.
“Should I wear stockings the next time I come?” she asked, her voice caustic.
His eyes seemed to darken.
“Hmm. No. I rather like you like this. Being dirty and bedraggled in muggle clothing suits you. And I intend to savour you. You needn't start wearing them — yet.”