CHAPTER 8: WHY IT IS DANGEROUS TO GET HERMIONE GRANGER ANGRY

"Well, well! Who do we have here?! If it isn't the elusive Miss Hermione Granger!" the wizard closest to Draco said, smiling at her, but there was no warmth in his smile.

Hermione motioned for Draco to stay away with her hands, as she smiled at the man easily. "Good to see you, Belby. Long-time, no see! How's the wife? Still complaining about your snoring, is she?" She smirked as Belby's eyes narrowed a fraction and his face flushed in embarrassment.

The silence on the first floor of the Ministry was deafening, and the witches and wizards who'd been going about their normal business stopped and crowded around her, drawing their wands, looking fascinated and horrified.

"That's Hermione Granger!" someone whispered loudly. Hermione smiled and nodded widely, "why yes, citizen, yes I am!" The crowd gasped dramatically and the temperature in the room grew cold with the tension.

Draco found himself completely ignored, pushed to the back of the crowd as everyone tried to catch a glimpse of the murderer in the flesh. "Where have you been hiding then, darling? We've found well over fifty safe houses with your magic, how many more do you have?" another wizard asked.

Hermione's smile brightened. "That's a secret, Baddock! I can't just tell you all my hiding spots, that would make this far too easy for you guys when I escape from here in a minute."

Draco wondered briefly if she had gone mad. Barely an hour ago, she'd been about to leave his manor, upset and depressed, and now, she was surrounded and about to be captured and she was challenging them to a duel?

She was good, but good enough to take on around forty people by herself? There was no way he could get involved without making it obvious that he was with her, and if any of them managed to get away, then the Ministry would pay him a visit not so much later.

She probably had a plan.

Of course she had a plan.

She was the goddess of plans.

He hoped she had a plan.

His mind was blank and confused and kind of excited at the idea that he was about to witness Hermione Granger kick ass without breaking a sweat.

"Escape? Don't mess about 'Mione, we've got you surrounded!" a wizard yelled triumphantly.

The three others wizards beside the one that spoke all groaned and glared at him like he'd just done something ridiculously stupid. The man himself, froze as if realising his mistakes.

All four of them seemed to lose the fighting spirit that had been present only a moment ago.

Hermione looked over at the wizard who'd called out and glowered at him, her eyes sparking in anger. "Terry Boot. How many times have I told you not to call me that stupid name? Every single assignment I was placed on with you, you called me 'Mione this and 'Mione that. I told you, I told you so nicely, so many times, no to call me that. And you still do it."

She paused to take a step forward, smiling in victory when Terry Boot, the grown man he was, squealed and stumbled back. "Now look what you've done, Terry, you've made me angry. You know what happens when I get frustrated about silly things like this?"

She slipped out her wand and rolled her shoulders in preparation. Duelling with Draco that night in the alley made her realise she missed fighting with someone. What better situation than now to test out if she'd really gotten rusty or not?

Hermione was in her environment, forty wizards and witches to her, wands at the ready, spells on the tips of their tongues, now if only they were in a library!

Hermione lived for these moments, because if there was one thing Hermione Granger could do, it was duel.

"Come at me," she whispered.

Wizards and witches began to throw curses, hexes and Merlin-knows what else towards her. She reflected them all easily, and people went down from behind hit with their own spells.

And then she began to dodge, jump and yell hexes and curses back at them, almost flying through the air as she swayed back and forth, away from every spell that was being thrown at her.

"Reducto!" she yelled, followed by "Petrificus totalus!"

Draco ducked as a rogue spell flew his way and he gaped at her. "Sorry!" she yelled out, laughing as she slipped past two witches blocking her way and knocked them out with a clean hit to the face with her elbows.

"Duro!"

"Serpensortia!"

"Rictusempera!"

"Tarantallegera!"

"Stupefy!"

"Duro!"

Hermione paused, and took in a deep breath, blowing her hair from her eyes as she reassessed the situation. Punching a man who tried to sneak up behind her, she grabbed his wand and transfigured it into a dog before letting it go and watching the panicked man run after it.

She toppled three people with a swipe of her foot and knocked them out, before pointing her wand at the two people, other than Draco, left over. One of them was Terry Boot.

Casually turning the other man into stone with a simple "Duro!" Hermione turned her attention to Terry who stared at his fallen comrades in shock before looking at her and gulping. "Now, Terry, I think we've all learned a valuable lesson, haven't we? We mustn't call people names that they don't like. It's not very nice, is it?"

Terry Boot shook his head and took a small step back. "Very good." She pointed her wand at his chest and muttered "Boo!"

There was a moment of silence and then Terry's eyes glazed over and he began to shiver and screaming about spiders and scorpions, he threw his wand behind him and ran away.

Hermione tucked her wand away and let out a sigh. She turned to Draco who was staring at her, his mouth opening and closing like he didn't know what words would be fitting for the silence between them. Feeling awkward, Hermione bit her bottom lip.

"So...we should probably get going before the others come in. I can't handle the whole Ministry." She said, slowly. He didn't say a word in return.

Hermione grew a little worried at the lack of a response. "Are you okay? Did one of my spells get you?" she asked, her voice softening a tiny bit. Draco shook his head and kept staring at her.

"We have a party to attend and story to come up with regarding my presence, do you want to go back to the manor or wait around for the backup to come in?" Hermione asked.

It was then that the sirens began to wail and the fireplaces began to shut down one by one.

Draco snapped out of whatever realm he'd been in and ran towards a fireplace, grabbing her hand so that they were both inside. "Malfoy Manor!" he cried, holding her close so that they wouldn't get separated.

They arrived in the dining room, crash landing out of the fireplace and onto the ground loudly. Hermione groaned, pushing Draco off her as she sat up and wiped the soot from her face and hair.

"What on earth is wrong with you, Malfoy? Do you want us to all get killed?" she muttered, standing up, wincing when her elbows cracked and she spotted bruises forming across her knuckles.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You just took out like a hundred people and now you're casually talking to me like you do this all the time!" he said, standing up and dusting himself down.

She frowned and shrugged. "There weren't a hundred people there, you dolt! Besides, I did used to do this all the time, duelling was basic training for Aurors in our first year."

Draco muttered something under his breath before walking into the adjoining living room and falling face first into a sofa before exhaling heavily in irritation.

Hermione followed behind, wondering why something like that bothered him this much before it occurred to her that perhaps he'd seen enough violence and pain in his life without having to witness more. It was second nature to her to defend herself, but to someone who'd lived through the war on the other side and seen more than even she had, watching a duel wouldn't be just nothing.

"Malfoy, I don't enjoy fighting. You know that right? I hate the idea of violence, I always have, but," she paused and sat opposite him on a sofa and crossing her arms, "you have to understand that I can't allow myself to get caught until I find out who is doing this. If I get caught, it's not even that fact that I'll be locked up, it's the fact that no one will get punished for killing off all those people, so if I have to disarm a few people, then I have to do it."

Draco lifted his head and gave her a sarcastic glare, "obviously you can't allow yourself to get caught! That would be stupid and pointless, plus, I won't get the answers to all the questions I have, now will I?"

"Then why on earth are you so moody?" she asked, exasperated. He was acting worse than Ginny when she'd been pregnant for the first time and craving muggle sweets that she had to have.

"I'm not moody. I'm just tired. Frankly, someone forgot about the rule that I laid out clearly for them yesterday night." He muttered, flopping back onto the sofa and sighing.

Hermione found herself smiling at his behaviour, finding some comfort in the familiarity of pointless arguments with Draco Malfoy. After all, pointless arguing had been at the cusp on their friendship during their last year at school.

"So this...party or ball thing...Blaise has one every year?" She asked, playing with the frills of a cushion nearby. Draco groaned and slowly sat up, like doing so was a chore that he despised.

"Yeah, it's something my mom started doing the year after the war was over and Blaise and I alternate on whose house to have it at. This year, luckily, it's at Blaise's." he tugged at the collar of his shirt, pulling off the tie so that he could breathe better.

She watched him, her eyes transfixed on his form in deep thought. "Okay and it's themed? Who's usually invited? How many are you expecting? Is it a formal thing or more causal?"

Draco held up his hand to stop her ranting and gaped at her in irritation. "Relax with the interrogatory questions! Are you sure you want to focus on this of all things, Granger? I mean...With everything going on...I can understand if all you want to do is stay away from here for a while until this whole thing is over."

She raised an eyebrow, "you want me to leave?"

"No! Of course not! Look, I wouldn't even go, but last time I didn't turn up, Blaise dragged me to his house in my sleepwear and wouldn't let me leave until everyone else had left. All I'm saying is that a party isn't something that you necessarily need to focus on right now. For Merlin's sake, Granger, you're a wanted witch. You want to go to a party?" He watched the liveliness she'd been displaying only moments ago disappeared from her demeanour and her shoulder slumped in defeat and cringed. Maybe that had been too harsh?

"I know I'm a wanted witch, Malfoy. It's been plastered across my face for two years now. I just..." she faltered, her voice fading for a moment at she glanced at the cushion on her lap and ran a hand over it slowly, "I just need something to distract me from the fact that my best friends want to hand me over to die. The last thing I want to do right now is think about the fact that they're out to get me. A party is a good thing to distract myself with. It's the best for me right now."

"But..." he ran a hand through his hair, understanding where she was coming from, but no liking the idea that she would be present for the party itself. What if someone figured out it was her? Would he be able to act in time to let her escape before people began throwing spells at her again?

"And anyway, Blaise is expecting Daniella to be there. What are you going to say if he asks you about me?"

Draco scowled, "I am good at lying, Granger. I'll make something up. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped here."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "at Malfoy Manor...? Look were getting off topic here, I don't mind doing this. I want to do this. It's good to distract myself right now. I need this!"

He sighed and nodded, giving up. She was impossible to win an argument against. "Okay fine. We'll have to bring something; can you cook or should I go and buy something?"

"Cook something? So this is more like a Sunday lunch thing with the family than a formal thing?" she smiled brightly, remembering the meals she used to have at the Burrow with the Weasely family.

"No, it's not formal, but there will be a lot of purebloods there, so...." He trailed off at the look on her face. "Granger, about that..."

"I'll cook. I enjoy cooking, how about I make dessert? I can bake a cake or something, I'll go do that now, why don't you go sleep some more? You seem tired," she cut him off sharply and headed towards the kitchen, her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

.*.

Draco didn't see her for the rest of the day. She seemed to be avoiding him, though he could smell the sweet smell of baking goods in the kitchen, he didn't want to enter and cause her to freak out again.

Obviously she wasn't ready to discuss her family or her claim of being a pureblood yet and he didn't want her to feel forced to talk about something she didn't want to. There was a time and place for everything and now and here wasn't the time to find out how Hermione Granger could be a pureblood.

It was only around ten at night, at he was heading up to sleep that he spotted her standing outside the door of her bedroom, glaring at the door like she wanted nothing more than to make it explode in front of her. He hid himself quickly and watched as she placed her hand on the handle cautiously.

"What is the occupant's ancestral family name?" Hermione sighed. Stupid door asking her the worst questions possible, why couldn't it ask her, her middle name or something?

"The Peverell Family," she muttered through gritted teeth, the door opened slowly, like it was welcoming her home after a long day and she rushed inside, closing the door behind her.

Draco came out from the shadows and wondered over to her door, looking at it, hoping it would give him the answers to the numerous questions that were now popping in his head.

The Peverell Family, if he recalled correctly those were the three brothers who had the Deathly Hallows from the children's tales his mother had told him when he was young. But if that was the case, then she was related to one of the strongest families known in the world, and she would be related to Potter too. No wonder she was so smart and capable; it was her blood.

He put his hand on the handle; the door seemed to sigh as it asked "what is the occupant's true name?"

Her true name? The name that was given to her at birth? It made sense that she would have a name other than Hermione Granger, after all, if she was a Peverell, then the people who'd raised her were her adoptive parents and they would have been the ones to name her Hermione.

Draco let go of the handle, he didn't know the answer to that one and he wasn't keen on getting injured to try and make guesses. He made his way back to his room, his mind abuzz with thoughts about the guest at his home. There was so much mystery around her that he found himself getting excited at the prospect of figuring it all out.

He could be the one to figure out Hermione Granger! And once he got her name cleared and they were allowed in public together without having to watch out for people wanting her for the money on her head, he could shove it in Pothead and Weasel's face.

That he'd been the one to figure out Hermione Granger and believe in her. Him, not the saviour of the world and his sidekick redhead.

Draco made a mental note to find out the answers to all his questions, and then he made a mental not to stop making so many mental notes. His head was getting clogged up with mental notes that he'd already forgotten.

And then Draco fell asleep.