CHAPTER 2: IT'S NOT CALLED KIDNAPPING, IT'S BORROWING AGAINST THEIR WILL

Walking around in the middle of the night had become a habit of Draco's since his parents had both died and left the Manor to his name.

It was bad enough that his father's will entailed that he was expecting him to maintain the ancestral home, but to have to look after and prosper the few companies that the Ministry hadn't taken over as part of their "cleanse the Death-Eaters" project, was irritating and the only thing that helped was taking long walks outside to clear his head.

His father would never have approved of his new habit at all, it was unseemly for a Malfoy to walk around with no purpose, so he enjoyed his nightly walks very much. The freedom that came along with being an orphan was nice, he didn't miss them at all, and even if he did, he had their portraits, painted before they died, in his office at the Manor. They had the freedom to visit him in the living room or the office and various other rooms if they pleased, but he ignored most of the things they told him anyway.

Dead people had no right to interfere in the lives of the living.

Besides, the house was lonely and cold and far too large for someone to live alone in. The first thing he'd done, after the funeral of his parents, was get all the house elves to take down every single wizarding painting in the house. All his ancestors, uncles and aunts and grandparents and other relatives, all of whom enjoyed yelling foul things at anyone who decided to visit him. He'd been tempted, for a moment, to burn them all, but he already had enough people cursing his existence without dead relatives added to the mix.

So he'd trapped them in their frames, and replaced the bare walls with muggle paintings of stoic, calm nature and scenery.

And then, he'd dismissed all the house elves, they hadn't liked him, even though he'd tried to be nicer to them, offering them pay and days off only seemed to make things worse, and they made it obvious that they didn't really consider him their master by burning all his food and never washing his clothes, or the dishes.

It was very unlike house elves to behave as such, but he didn't give much thought to it, and released them from their contract, liking the silence that came with it.

And then, he'd broken up with his so-called fiancé-Pansy Parkinson.

How was he supposed to enjoy the silence of the Manor if she was trailing after him, calling him "Drakie-poo," and acting all clingy and jealous if they ever decided to go out to eat?

He'd only asked for her hand in marriage because that's what had been expected of him by his parents once he'd reached a certain age, but now that they weren't around to enforce the rules, he didn't want to be stuck in a relationship with a woman who cared not for him.

She hadn't exactly taken it well. Pansy had run out of the Manor yelling at him about revenge and how he would be hers no matter what she had to do. A few days later, her dead body had been found somewhere in a muggle building, her body was scarred, like she been hit with decapitation spells.

As an ex-fiancé, he should have felt some sort of emotion at her death, but all he'd really felt was relief.

The Minister of Magic, Longbottom, had fed the newspapers a story that it was the work of the ex-Auror Hermione Granger.

Longbottom becoming Minister of Magic had been enough to make him choke on his morning tea, but Granger becoming a murderer?

When he'd heard that Gryffindor's Good-Girl-Granger, had gone bad, Draco had had some trouble believing it at first, especially since she'd been even nicer to everyone after the second war had been over.

Even to him.

After being recalled to complete their seventh year at Hogwarts, she'd been particularly nice to him, even after everything he'd done. To say that they'd become friends, would not have been an overstatement, after all, they'd been partnered up for classes and had even managed to get Blaise and Astoria together during the year through teamwork and a lot of scheming together.

She'd been the sole reason why Gryffindor and Slytherin hadn't fought as much. The only reason why they'd all managed to graduate together without any more mishaps and death. The only reason why he was still accepted in society as much as he was, if not for her, all the other students who'd supported Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts would have been locked away in Azkaban too.

So, it was pretty much impossible to believe that Granger of all people had gone rogue. Attempting to picture her killing anyone was stupid, even if all the evidence had begun to point to her bushy haired head.

He'd been wavered in his belief that she was innocent, when Potter and Weasel had been put on her case and had begun hunting her down too, but he chalked that up to them being idiots. It didn't concern him really, after all, when was he going to see her again?

And then, on this particular night, he'd caught her. What were the chances?

Of course he hadn't known it was her then, all he'd seen was the dark silhouette of someone crouching behind a wall, obviously hiding and figured it was some thief hiding from the victim.

Any other night, he would have shrugged it off and left, but tonight, for some reason, he found himself shuffling closer, like something was drawing him to this person.

The moment he was barely two steps from her, he figured her to be a female since her frame was too slight for a man, she'd tensed up like she knew that he was there, which was ridiculous, since he'd cast a silencing spell on himself.

He tried a simple revealing charm on her, just in case it was some desperate bimbo looking for hot men, but she deflected the spell easily with a shield, ducking as the protective charm exploded with the force and rolling out of the way. Standing up on her feet, wand drawn and ready to fight back like she thought he was purposely out to get her. He could barely see her with the little light that the moon provided, but she seemed to be scanning the area for him.

Okay, Draco thought to himself as he quietly crept behind her, if she can do that, she obviously wasn't a bimbo.

He began to fire off random spells that came into his head, silly things like frog-speech charm or the bat-bogey hex. She rolled, ducked and jumped out of each one like she'd done it a hundred times before.

Who the hell was this woman?

She wasn't trying to hex him or harm him in any way, even though he was the one attacking, she made no move to attack back. Perhaps she couldn't?

She only muttered sudden protective charms whenever he cast a spell, avoiding being hit with anything. She moved with grace, he threw random spells at her, just to watch her avoid them like a dancer, twisting and jumping out of the way.

And then she'd grown frustrated with him and had tried to figure him out. That little spell, "Lumos maxima" had shown him exactly who he had been trying to make talk frog a few minutes ago.

Hermione Granger.

He'd disapparated as quickly as he could so she wouldn't have been able to see him, but he'd let a gasp slip before he could stop it. He apparated back, a sudden rush of excitement running through his veins.

"Can I at least know who you are?" she asked suddenly, her voice echoing slightly in the empty alleyway. Draco smirked; he was duelling with a wanted criminal that had been on the run from Potter and Weasel for two years. He'd caught up to her before either of those two losers had. He could almost imagine the shock on their faces if they were to ever find out.

The spell had faded, but now that he knew who she was, he got serious. That spell had shown him the Hermione Granger he'd known for years. She'd changed. The split second image on her in his mind was enough for him to identify every single thing about her that was different from the last time he'd seen her.

Her wild curls were tamer and the colour seemed to blend together into shades of browns that could only be described as honey and melted caramel. Her skin was paler, not as pale as his, but almost the same, like she hadn't seen the sun in the two years that she'd been in hiding.

All the tumbling and flying and jumping through the air had made her hair come undone from her ponytail and made it fall around her face, making her look like some sort of a warrior queen out on the prowl for trespassers.

She'd grown quite a bit too. Last time he'd seen her, she'd barely made it to his shoulders, now she looked like she could look him eye to eye easily. This was the Granger that he knew, but also a woman that he didn't know. This was the woman wanted by the whole magical world for murder.

She stopped moving, listening instead for any noise that would give him away, her breathing shallow and her body poised to spring into motion at any given second.

Of course, he thought to himself, as he placed himself behind her again, if he had been a normal person, he would have alerted the Aurors immediately. That's what he should have done the moment he realised who she was, but he was enjoying this little game.

He didn't want to consider handing her over to the Ministry, instead, what he really wanted to do was---he ducked as a charm came flying towards him at bullet speed, making him almost lose his balance in the process and fall.

Granger was good; he knew that, only an idiot who'd been living under a rock for around twenty-four years wouldn't know that.

The only way to catch her was to think smart and ---he ducked again as another spell came zooming towards him, he growled in anger, she wasn't even letting him finish his bloody thoughts, what the hell?

Getting frustrated, he attempted to disarm her, but she avoided the spell and it made the wall that she'd been hiding behind, explode, showering the both of them with debris.

She was on her knees now, and as if making up her mind, she nodded to herself and raised her wand into the air like she was about to send up a flare. But all that came out was a light blue ball of light that illuminated almost nothing and it flew towards him slowly.

He ducked, attempting to avoid being hit, but the spell didn't hit him, instead it followed his movements, bending low like he was, he moved to his right, the light followed him.

A tracking spell, he thought to himself, very smart Granger, and it was one that he was unaware existed.

He could almost see the smile on her face as she shot a spell at him, but he disapparated, and appeared behind her, but she was expecting him, and she came up behind him, her wand to his throat, holding his warm hand behind his back.

Draco felt himself smile at this. This had to be the most fun he'd had in months, and he imagined this must have been the first time she'd had to spar with someone for so long in two years too.

But she didn't know who he was and thus underestimated how fast he could be. He grabbed her arm with his free hand and took it off him, twisting his way so that the roles were now reversed, with her now trapped in his arms.

He was right. She as almost exactly as tall as he was now, and she didn't seem to like the fact that he was holding her. He couldn't apparate with her if she was fighting like that, so thinking fast, he blew gently on the side of her neck, making her tense immediately, and taking that opportunity, he side-apparated her with him to the first place he could think of, which just so happened to be his current home.

Malfoy Manor.

At first he'd thought himself stupid, now she could easily escape, and there was no question about who he was now. She would probably track him down, and with the house elves gone and no screaming paintings, she could murder him too. And then there would be no more Draco Malfoy.

Merlin, the world would be a terrible place to live in.

And besides, he was too young and good looking to die.

But he stopped for a second and thought, letting her go so that she could get a hold of her stomach. Sudden apparations were hard for your body to handle, he let her take a moment to compose herself.

Why exactly had he brought her here of all places?

She had murdered people, capable witches and wizards, Dean Thomas, though he hadn't known the boy himself, was said to be the greatest spy that the Ministry had ever trained, and he was dead too. Kingsley Shaklebolt hadn't been a new born kitten in war either, but she'd managed to kill him off too.

Shouldn't he, as a sane man, be avoiding her, instead of kidnapping her and bringing her to his home? Shouldn't he have taken to the Ministry or the Head Auror office or something? Why had his first instinct been to bring her to his house? What was he going to do, offer her tea?

She stood up and looked at the gate in front of her and the manor that lay beyond it and her body froze again. He could almost see the blood in her veins freeze as her breathing stopped for a moment in shock.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite criminal bookworm! Granger! Fancy meeting you here! Whatever brings you to my humble abode?"

What was he trying to do? Asking to be killed off?

She turned around and he saw the blaze of anger in her eyes as she realised where she was and who he was. "Ferret!" she muttered, raising her wand.

Draco felt like he should have been afraid, weren't normal people afraid when facing serial killers? But the fear he expected to feel was...not there.

He saw she was even paler now, like, just by seeing the manor, her heart seemed to have decided to stop pumping the blood around her body.

No wonder too, now that he thought about it, the last time she'd been here, had been during their seventh year at Hogwarts. She'd been kidnapped then too, dragged to this god-forsaken place and then tortured because of a stupid sword. Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt, had agonized her senseless.

Draco himself hadn't been permitted to watch, but he'd heard her screams, her crying and begging couldn't be erased from his memory, and when Bellatrix had been convinced she didn't know anything, before Dobby had come and rescued them all, Draco had seen the word "MUDBLOOD" on the flesh of her left arm, blood seeping onto the floor.

And even after all that, she'd befriended him and all his selfish, arrogant, evil friends.

She was glaring at him now, with all the venom she could muster, and boy, this girl's looks could kill. But no matter how hard he tried to imagine her getting angry enough to kill someone, he couldn't do it.

Hermione Granger wasn't capable of killing anyone.

Seriously harming? Sure!

Removing limbs? Easily!

Killing? No.

She was too kind hearted to kill a spider, let alone witches and wizards...people. What the hell was wrong with Pothead and Weasel?

If he hadn't known it was Granger, he might have shivered at her glare. This was the girl that had finally gotten him to apologize for the first time in his life. She couldn't be a killer.

"Sup Granger? You're not saying much! Afraid of the big bad Slytherin?" he couldn't help but smirk at how stupid that sounded, exactly why he said it of course, it would annoy the hell out of her.

She stared at him blankly, like she couldn't believe that he'd said that of all things to her. She'd probably been expecting quick-fire questions about murdering people, he'd surprised her and she seemed stunned momentarily.

However, the grip on her wand didn't relax and it was still pointed at him.

At least she wasn't attacking, that meant she remembered that they were okay with each other, at least for now. He sincerely hoped that she wouldn't decide to stun him and leave him there. It looked like it was going to rain pretty soon and he didn't want to catch a cold.

She shook herself out of her shock that he was still bigheaded and full of himself before glaring at him. "Why am I here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you drag this big bad Gryffindor to the Ministry and earn the big reward and brag about it to the whole wide world or something?" her sarcasm slapped him in the face.

She really hadn't changed at all. Except now she was...prettier? No, what the hell? No, she was scarier now.

"Are you going to give me a reason for kidnapping me, Malfoy, or should I just castrate you now?" she asked, raising her wand threateningly. Draco took a step back from her and crossed his legs casually.

"it's not called kidnapping, Granger, I was just borrowing you...against your will."

She didn't seem impressed by his words so he grinned at her, "okay, okay, I guess I thought the smartest witch of our age would've figured it out by now!" he paused to run a hand through his perfectly styled hair like he was some sort of a model before looking her in the eyes.

"Apparently, you murdered my fiancé?" he looked at her, watching her face go from pale to a red in two seconds flat. However, it wasn't the red of guilt or shame, it was the shade of red that suggest she was surprised and somewhat shocked at his words.

She looked at him like she was considering sending him to a hospital, and behind her shaded eyes, Draco thought he saw a sense of pain at his accusing. He felt guilt takeover immediately and sighed.

He was right, of course. How could Hermione Granger, the woman who wore her heart on her sleeve be going around killing people?

He opened his mouth to apologize to her, but she gritted her teeth and stood her ground, taking a step towards him so that the tip of her wand, touched his torso, her eyes blazing in anger.

"You're making me angry, Malfoy, and you shouldn't do that to wanted witches, they might just sneak into your house in the middle of the night and Avada your butt," she muttered in almost a whisper.

She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and then glowered at him again. "Two years! Two years and you get to me, you of all people!"

He decided not to take that as an insult.

She shook her head again, "why am I still here?" she cried out in frustration, raising her wand and pointing it at the base of his throat.

Draco gulped, suddenly nervous. He could almost see why people would think that she was killing people, she had a very violent aura of death around her when she got pissed off. He'd almost forgotten about that.

She blinked and stepped away from him, her wand still held tightly in her grip, no longer at his throat, she sighed and looked him straight in the eye, holding his gaze, "yes, Malfoy. I killed your precious Pansy," she paused.

Draco couldn't help but stare at the way her lips moved gracefully as she talked. He drew his attention away from her mouth and concentrated on the words that were flying out of them.

"And if you ever drag me to this place again, I will kill you too. I'll kill the whole bloody world, one by one, and you will be first on the bloody list." She took a step back and turned away from him; she straightened her shoulders.

Her hair whipped him in the face, but if it was meant to hurt it didn't, it passed over his skin like silk, the faint smell of oranges and cinnamon invading his nose. It was a familiar scent, one that she'd had even back in school, but it was stronger now, clearer too, and it confused him.

"So watch your step Draco Malfoy. Don't ever come near me again." She muttered, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Then she walked away from him, far enough that he wouldn't be caught in the spell as she turned to face him, scowling, and then in a puff of smoke, she disappeared into thin air, as dramatic as she'd ever been, leaving behind a very confused Malfoy heir wondering whether to be nervous about her threat, or laugh at the fact that the Gryffindor Princess had said the word "bloody" in the same sentence- twice.