FicWad

(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, CSI, nor anything else contained within these pages, no infringement is intended.)
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"Hmph!" grumbled Madame Pince from behind her desk, jumping in shock as Hermione slammed another dusty tome shut and added it to the pile of disregarded books growing around her. Nerves overset, Madame Pince quickly made her way over to the table where Hermione was situated, 'along with half of my books, I shouldn't wonder,' Madame Pince thought, indulging in a little hyperbole. Having quietly reached the table, Pince now sought Hermione's attention. "Miss Granger?" Madame Pince asked, her voice expressing only half the exasperation she felt; exasperation which grew when Hermione ignored her in favour of pouring over a new found text. 'Hmmm,' thought Pince, peering over Granger's shoulder, only mildly curious about Hermione's latest quest for knowledge. 'Is that papyrus? Where on earth did she dig that up? ... If her shoddy treatment has damaged any of my books, Dumbledore be damned, I'll ... ungrateful trouble makers the lot of them.'

As Madame Pince's mind wandered, someone else approached Hermione's table, his curiosity piqued, though he wasn't quite sure why. 'Nothing unusual about mudblood Granger in the library, however, she is alone ...' inwardly Malfoy cackled with unrestrained glee at the thought of finally getting revenge on the mudblood for ... existing and whatnot. Outwardly, of course, he maintained his usual affectation of boredom and took a seat at a neighbouring table, a plan forming in his mind. He drew his wand out, as unobtrusively as possible, and aimed it at the Gryffindor's table, 'how precariously those books are stacked; it's her own fault really, tsk, tsk; look that one's teetering all ready. It wouldn't take much, just a little push and the books ... The books ...'

Distracted from his plan, Draco began to read the titles of the books surrounding Hermione, each one more ancient and decrepit than the last. Bewildered, Malfoy slid his wand up his sleeve, hope for concussions and comas forgotten. 'They're all about magical creatures, beasts. Granted, a few of them look interesting ... Almost dark. But why would Granger be doing research for a class a Hufflepuff could pass with ease, if not injury? ... Granger's cracked.' Draco snorted in humour as the realization dawned. Unfortunately, it roused Madame Pince from her stupor, and drew her attention squarely onto him; sitting at an empty table, with no books in sight and a somewhat innocent expression fixed on his face. Pince took it all in and immediately pointed towards the exit. Despite having actually done nothing wrong, Malfoy followed her directions almost graciously, smirking nastily once Pince's attention was back on Hermione, secure in the knowledge that the know-it-all bane of his existence had gone completely off her trolley.

Oblivious to it all, Hermione continued searching through the sheaves of papyrus, flipping page after pager, uncaring that they might crumble into dust at the slightest provocation. In Hermione's other hand, inked quill rested, poised to write down everything she found, anything that might shed light on their current trial. The parchment remained blank, mocking her with it's emptiness, and Hermione was fairly certain her hand had begun to cramp. Thus far, after many tedious hours of research, she had found nothing, nothing that wasn't already known. Hermione was getting frustrated. "Bah!, It's useless!," she growled, closing and shoving the book away in disgust; accidentally causing one tower of books to topple over, nearly burying a nearby student in the process.

"Miss Granger!" Madame Pince exclaimed, in a combination of a shout and a whisper that librarians everywhere excel at, aghast at the favoured student's wanton disregard for her surroundings. Cringing, Hermione was abruptly made aware of the librarian's proximity. Hermione was too out of sorts to attempt anything more than a meager apology, forestalled by Madame Pince's raised hand. Growing increasingly livid with anger, Pince spoke in the same tenor of voice as before, "if you are quite finished wreaking havoc in this bastion of knowledge, you will gather your effects and depart at once!" Hermione packed her things speedily, face flushed with embarrassment, under Madame Pince's wrathful gaze, and all but ran out of the library.

Hermione stopped running when she reached the end of the hallway and plunked herself down on the floor. Leaning against the wall for support, she began unpacking her bag in order to repack it properly. 'Hopefully, nothing was damaged,' she thought. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed two other students further down the otherwise deserted hall. 'Ravenclaw girl, I don't recognize her though. Not my year I expect,' Hermione sighed when she recognized the other student, 'Malfoy.' Hermione finished repacking as quickly as possible, 'you'd think Malfoy would know better than to harass out in the open like this, nothing good ever comes from it. On the other hand, these idiot girls should've learned by now not to get cornered by him. Ah well, Gryffindor to the rescue, as always.' she thought wearily.

Hermione moved forward slowly, pretending to be absorbed by the newspaper she held in her hand. A new theory of Hermione's was about to be put to the test. 'When dealing with Malfoy,' she thought, 'if you want to escape unscathed, it's best to seem as uninterested as possible.' In a bored voice she called out, "leave her alone Malfoy." Malfoy glanced over his shoulder to see who dared interrupt him and rolled his eyes when he saw Granger, "If it isn't the newest inmate at St. Mungo's, slipped your leash already?" he asked derisively as he moved away from the other student and dropped into a mocking bow. The Ravenclaw in question giggled at his antics, but moved quickly past the two, blushing when Draco called after her in his most insinuating voice, "I'll see you later then, shall I?" Turning, the girl winked at him and then ran around the corner causing Malfoy to chuckle seductively. Hermione ignored the entire byplay, becoming genuinely interested in one of the articles. It was the most recent edition of The Quibbler, Luna had lent it to her after lunch. Written there, plain as day, proof that tabloids don't always get it wrong: Fun Gryphon Facts to Know and Tell. Hermione read the list with anticipation, only to to fall flat, until she read the last sentence, 'properties of the gryphon used mainly in spells and potions which delve into the black arts.'

His patience wearing thin, he broke the silence first, "well, mudblood?" Malfoy asked haughtily, effectively snapping her out of her daze. "Malfoy," Hermione said almost jubilantly, thoughts racing. "I need your help with something," she asked single-mindedly, forgetting that Malfoy had never, probably would never willingly help her with anything. Draco's eyes widened imperceptibly at the request, 'either she really is mad,' he thought, looking around skeptically, 'or this is a trap of some sort.' Scowling, he drew his wand from his sleeve, "what could I possibly do for you?" he asked coldly. Hermione rolled her eyes at the display and put the newspaper in her bag. "Honestly Malfoy, you're more paranoid than Ron." Malfoy sneered at the comparison and kept his wand aloft, yet again prompted by some wayward curiosity, gestured for her to keep talking. All the while Draco kept an eye out for the sudden appearance of stampeding Gryffindors.

Hermione continued eagerly, "it's for Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid mentioned we might be doing research projects next term. I wanted to get ahead and you're one of the top students in our year; only there aren't as many books in the library on account of it having been used for mainly darker spells ..." The lies fell from Hermione lips with seeming ease, having thought up and practiced a cover story for Madame Pince over lunch, Hermione had no compunction against using it again on Malfoy. For his part, Draco was in a state of bemused shock. 'Granger, the know-it-all Gryffindor mudblood, is doing her damnedest to talk to me as though we're friends. Granted she is asking for a favour, more like my so-called friends than she realizes,' he thought angrily. "What are you playing at?" he asked sharply, interrupting Hermione's inane chattering, his eyes adopting their usual iciness in an effort to hide his growing perplexity.

Whatever Hermione had been about to say was lost when Harry and Ron rounded the corner, "We've already checked the girls dormitory, the owlery and the library. There's no where else for her to be." said Ron in a voice tinged with frustration. Looking away from Ron, Harry realized the focus of their search was suddenly in front of them, with Malfoy of all people. "Hermione?" Harry's called out. In a split second both boys drew their wands and ran to Hermione's aid, Harry on her right and Ron on her left. Malfoy snickered inwardly at their predictable behaviour, though was secretly glad to be back on familiar territory, Granger's behaviour had begun to worry him, 'their problem now ...' he smirked, but kept his wits about him, without Crabe and Goyle he was out-numbered, 'and that hot-head weasel is more likely to shoot first and have someone tell him the answers later ... pathetic excuse for a pure blood.' Determined to get the better of Malfoy for once, Ron spoke next, in a raised voice, attempting to disarm Malfoy, "Expelliar-" when Harry realized Hermione hadn't drawn her wand and interrupted him, shouting "Ron, hold!" just in time to thwart the spell. Keeping his wand focused on the smirking Slytherin, Harry turned to examine Hermione. She looked tired, and not entirely pleased with the situation. 'Still,' Harry reasoned, 'talking to Malfoy would upset anyone.' Ron, however, kept total focus on Malfoy, silently daring him to make a move.
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked concern flooding his voice. "Yes, yes," Hermione mumbled abashed, "I'm fine I was just ..." her voice petered out as Draco caught her eye and cocked his eyebrow deliberately, daring to her to explain exactly what she had been doing, consorting with the enemy; because, frankly he wasn't all that sure himself. At that instant Malfoy realized, should any of his housemates stumble into this situation, they might garner an inaccurate conclusion, 'holding conversation with mudbloods and muggle lovers, I'd never hear the end of it. Not to mention what Father would say...' Draco shuddered mentally at the thought and, summoning up his iciest facade, one proven to lower the surrounding temperature, he returned his wand to it's hiding place and took his leave from the Gryffindor trio. "Potter, Mudblood, Weasel," Malfoy sneered. His robes billowing behind him as he stalked off, leaving a bristling Ron, a discouraged Hermione, and a confused Harry in his wake.

Ron stared after him, wand gripped in a white knuckled fist, torn between the desire to put Malfoy in his place, and concern for Hermione. Harry, sensing Ron's turmoil, because, to a lesser extent, he shared it, whispered to him, "leave him, we've got more important things to deal with." As if to emphasize his point, Hermione growled in frustration and stomping her feet firmly against the floor, began to walk in the opposite direction of the one Malfoy had chosen. Ron and Harry shared a look before following her, Ron thinking over and over again, 'bouncing ferret, bouncing ferret ...' Harry reached out and gently grabbed hold of Hermione's elbow, halting her attack on the floor. He moved ahead slightly so they could see each other. "Harry," Hermione said, distractedly, "what is it?" "Mione, what was that all about?" Harry enquired quietly, hoping to avoid confrontation. "I have a research project, for extra credit. It's not going as well as I'd hoped and ... as it's more his field than mine, I asked Malfoy for help." Hermione finished, flushing slightly, feeling guilty for having to lie to Harry, after all this time.

With Malfoy, it had been almost easy, 'he called me that disgusting name again ... but if I could have gotten his help, it would have been worth it. Harry and Ron just ... Ron ... Ron, oh Blast!" "You What!?!" Ron exploded as he whirled Hermione around to face him, his face flushed and angry. Harry winced and prayed that there weren't any teachers around to witness this particular battle. Hermione, though embarrassed stood her ground and scowled at Ron, saying slowly, "I. Asked. Him. For. Help." I heard you the first time!" Ron yelled, "What were you thinking? Asking our worst enemy... He hexed you, didn't he? That Bastard! I'll kill him." Fuming, Ron started back after Malfoy, when Harry quickly moved to intercept him, "Ron -," "No, Harry, he's put some kind of spell on her, she didn't even have her wand out." Ron sputtered indignantly.

Hermione practically shouted, "He didn't do anything! I just needed help is all." 'Which,' a scion of Hermione's mind continued traitorously, 'I might have gotten if you two hadn't showed up... probably not though.' "From Malfoy?" Ron bellowed in disbelief, causing Harry to wince again, "that slimy, Slytherin git who has done nothing but try to make all our lives a living hell from the moment we set foot in this school." Hermione snapped, "Well, we've paid him back in kind, haven't we!" stunning the two boys into shocked silence. 'Whoa,' Hermione asked silently, 'where did that come from?' 'Ron just pushed me to the edge is all, I don't necessarily believe it,' Hermione answering herself, trying to justify her outburst and ignore the heckling laughter echoing inside her head. Hermione rubbed her forehead, attempting to ease her sudden headache, frowning she said, "I don't have time for this." She pivoted on her heel and marched away, neither boy made any move to stop her. In fact both stood frozen, varying degrees of shock etched onto their faces.

"Harry?" Ron asked, after a minute of silence, his temper cooling, "what just happened?" his voice trailed off. "Well," Harry began uncertainly, battling his own headache, "the Fat Lady said Hermione didn't get back till this morning, from whatever Dumbledore had her doing, she's probably just tired ... and you know how she gets about her projects..." "But Malfoy? She could've asked me, er, us for help, why would she go to him?" Ron asked worriedly. Worn out, Harry started heading back to Gryffindor common, "If Mione was in danger, really in peril, Dumbledore would know." A voice whispered dryly in back of Harry's mind, 'yes, he knows everything.' "I guess," replied Ron, "let's ask him just to be sure." 'Right,' the voice intruded upon Harry's thoughts once more, full of doubt, 'and he'll tell you everything he knows, hmm? More like everything he wants you to know. Just enough to get you to do what he wants, like a good little puppet.'

"Aarghh!" Harry grumbled, stopping in the hallway once more, clutching his hands to his head. "Harry? It's not," Ron voice dropped to a whisper, full of concern, "your scar, is it?" He put his hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder. Harry shook it off and began walking again, at a quicker pace than before, leaving Ron behind, "No," Harry said, abruptly, "just a headache. Look," he called out over his shoulder, "Hermione can take care of herself, you know that, besides, it's probably nothing. I'll see you later." 'Great,' thought Ron, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he made his solitary way towards the Headmaster's office, 'I'll just look for Dumbledore by myself. Maybe he'll tell me what in bloody hell is going on.' Ron shuffled forward looking gravely concerned, 'because I don't have a clue.'

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