The Deal!

Chapter Nine –

Severus took a sip of water and set it onto the table, his dark gaze never leaving that of the woman's before him. Not that he needed any more proof, but Hermione Granger had certainly grown up. Her womanly curves were emblazoned in his memories. Was it odd that he found contentment in her mere presence even after all they'd been though? Of course, he would definitely find more if he could grind himself into her softness. That is what he wanted, after all.

He shook his head and tried to stay on task. Losing focus now was not an option. This was the day he made his offer. It was a crucial time in the negotiations. It really was too bad that she hadn't taken his first offer. They could have dispensed with the barristers and the unpleasantness.

In a way, he was actually relieved that she hadn't. Halfheartedly, he listened to the two barristers bicker between themselves.

"Prove it!" Draco Malfoy demanded. His voice was calm, and the declaration was soft. He was self-assured and righteous, which was frightening. A righteous Malfoy was normally a dead Malfoy. If Lucius were dead, he would undoubtedly roll over in his grave.

Inwardly, Severus snorted. He had been surprised to see Malfoy representing Hermione and her cohorts, who were blessedly absent from the proceedings.

"Prove it, Weasley!" the blond wizard repeated, his tone even and steady compared to the redhead's blustery complexion. "The burden of proof lies at your feet. You cannot prove that Miss Granger purposefully set out to ruin the professor's teaching career, or even that it was indeed the professor she modeled Simon's character after, and I fail to see how it has ruined his teaching career. From what I understand, Professor Snape is planning on going back to Hogwarts to teach Potions."

"I have more proof than you realize, Malfoy," Percy retorted vehemently.

Malfoy shoved a document across the large table. "Any resemblance in my client's novel to actual people, living or dead, is pure coincidence. You have to establish motive and malice. I am, quite frankly, amazed that you would waste the time and effort to proceed; however, in view of your client's... feelings, I have been authorized to offer him ten thousand Galleons for any pain and suffering that he may have incurred due to the unfortunate similarities between his person and that of any of the characters in Miss Granger's work of fiction."

He didn't know how he did it, but Severus managed to smother a grin. Malfoy had obviously not read the book; otherwise he would be suing Hermione too.

"Tell me something, Mr. Malfoy." Severus leaned forward and looked into Draco's determined gaze. "Have you read any of her books? Did you know that the villain's name is Drago Mallistoi and that the character has pale blond hair and cold gray eyes?"

Draco smiled. He pulled his copy of The Darkest Magic out and tossed it onto the table. "It is a work of fiction. Any similarities are purely coincidental, and yes, I have read it." He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unimpressed.

Hermione cringed. She had never been very good at poker, but Malfoy was playing the game like a pro. She hadn't slept well ever since she'd returned from vacation, and her stomach protested any bit of nourishment. If she were the kind of woman who slept around, she would have easily accepted Snape's original offer and been done with the drama.

It was bad enough that it had come to this. The press was waiting outside, and her "dirty, little secret" would soon be revealed. In all honesty, she didn't want to be known as a romance novelist. She would have to kiss her investigative journalism career away and reveal herself as Perdita Winters. It was a small price to pay for the mayhem her latest book had caused. Not only was Severus incensed but Draco had also suffered horribly.

The logical part of her argued that Pansy's flight was not her fault, but Draco's pain was too palpable to ignore. She couldn't stop the guilt that had kept her awake for the past two days.

"Ten thousand Galleons is a fair offer," Draco continued, his inflection matter-of-fact and bored. "Especially since you have no evidence. Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you have proof my client deliberately set out to malign Professor Snape's character?"

Percy's face was redder than his hair as he shuffled papers and prepared to leave. The breakdown of negotiations was apparent on the barrister's face, and Hermione's heart sank. She could see the trial now. She would never live through the embarrassment. Knowing Percy as she did, he would undoubtedly put her on the stand and ask her whether or not she loved Severus Snape. He would probably insist that she take Veritaserum. Or he would insinuate that she was Snape's jilted lover. Her stomach churned in protest even as her fingers itched to jot down her thoughts. Somewhere, somehow, she was going to have to include a scene like that in one of her novels.

"This meeting was a waste of time," Percy hissed. "We have plenty of evidence, and we will not hesitate to present it in court. Good day!"

Severus arched a raven eyebrow. His barrister was acting like a belligerent child. "Sit down, Mr. Weasley. I am not finished."

Percy did as he was told, somehow managing to maintain a shred of dignity and a spec of professionalism.

Though he was looking at Hermione, Severus addressed Draco. "I have no need of funds. Your offer would seem generous if the character's close resemblance to me was simply a matter of coincidence. The press is outside, and I would hate to leave the negotiations without settling the matter. I have a counter proposal..."

"Professor...!" Percy protested sharply.

"I have a counter proposal!" He turned his menacing gaze on Percy and silently dared the lawyer to interfere. "In lieu of monetary recompense, I suggest indentured servitude. I am in need of assistance for the remainder of the summer. If Miss Granger agrees to my terms, she will come to Hogwarts and work off her debt to the value of ten thousand Galleons."

Hermione jumped out of her seat and slammed her palm onto the table. "I will never agree! I refused you at the villa, and I am refusing you now. I am not a prostitute!"

"I meant lab assistant, Miss Granger, not whore," he replied calmly. "You can work off your debt during the day, helping me to replenish the stores of potions that the school normally requires me to make, freeing me up to attend to my personal research. Surely you haven't forgotten how to brew medicinal potions."

Her eyes flashed, her anger radiating off of her. He couldn't help his reaction as he shifted in his seat. Her passion is what drew him to her in the first place. He had gotten a taste of it, and now he wanted more. He wanted her. He wanted to bathe in her passionate nature, the one she shared with the rest of the world through her torrid romance books.

She was a true Gryffindor. Here he was, backing her into a corner, and she was determined to fight her way out. She was not unintelligent. She knew what he wanted from her. Though he could use the help, his true motivations were anything but honorable. She would never fall for such an obvious ruse. If he didn't think of something quickly, he was going to lose this chance.

"You are un-bloody-believable!" she seethed. "You were trying to get into my knickers the entire time at the villa! Am I to believe that you have had some charitable change of heart? Am I to believe that you even have a heart?"

He drew breath to answer her but caught himself. "I don't know what you are referring to, Miss Granger. I filed the suit against you in the hopes that you would learn a valuable lesson. Your pen is mightier than any Unforgivable Curse. Two of my fifth-year students failed due to the nonsensical ramblings of your imagination. I had to send three of my sixth-year students to the headmaster for inappropriate behavior, and I shan't mention where I found a seventh-year student." He raised a challenging eyebrow.

She could feel the blood boil beneath her skin and Draco's and Percy's curious stares. "Why didn't you just come to me? Why didn't you just come to me with your concerns? Why ruin my vacation? Why go through all the trouble of tracking me down... just to ruin my life?"

His opaque eyes glazed over, and his jaw was set. He was not going to discuss their private "history" and incriminate himself, though he wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her distress. "It is a most generous offer, Miss Granger. I will require that you work eight hours a day. You will have weekends off. Take it or leave it."

--

Folding a gray t-shirt, Hermione placed it into her suitcase. She had dropped Crookshanks off with Ginny, and she was almost finished packing.

Draco watched as she went back and forth from the chest of drawers to her suitcase. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

She paused in her task. Why wouldn't she be all right? She felt like she was strung out, twisted like a pretzel. Her secret was out, and the media were having a field day. She was getting ready to enter Snape's domain and become his indentured servant. Her professional life was ruined. Her investigative journalism career was over. It wasn't really a question of her livelihood. She was a best-selling author. Money wasn't really a concern, but her reputation was in ruins. Not even the Daily Prophet would take her seriously now. She shook her head. They let Rita Skeeter write for them, but not her. She sighed. She may have a shot writing for the Quibbler, but even that was beginning to look dubious.

"I'll be fine," she assured Draco, who stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest. If anyone had told her that she would actually be civil to Draco Malfoy anytime during the course of her lifetime, she would have laughed in their faces. He looked haggard... way worse than she felt.

"I'll take care of the papers." He stifled a yawn and scratched his chin. "It's almost a pity that it didn't go to court. I would have been interested in seeing what kind of proof Weasley had. Of course, it really wouldn't have made any difference. There was no way they could have shown intent to defame Professor Snape's character."

A pang of guilt stabbed through her chest. She owed Draco more than she could fathom. He had gotten Molly, Ginny, and the twins off the hook with his calm demeanor and skill. If anyone should be suing her, it should be him. She hadn't really done much to disguise the character of Drago Mallistoi. To her, he was the epitome of evil. He was the bully, the brute of Hogwarts, and the bane of Harry's, Ron's and her existence.

His pale blond hair was slicked back in a manner that probably took him all of two minutes to accomplish. His elegant suit reeked of money, but his good looks and clothes did little to disguise his distress over his missing wife.

She walked up to him and touched his shoulder, a small measure of comfort, but a token between formerly bitter enemies nonetheless. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Draco tensed, craning his neck and looking at her hand.

"You must love Pansy very much. I didn't realize..." Hermione removed her hand. "I'm just... sorry."

"She's due in a couple of weeks. I don't know where she is," Draco murmured softly. "She has broken all ties with her family. She is untraceable. It's as if she has vanished. The authorities are of no use." His words were thick with emotion.

Hermione stepped back, inspiration for Drago's redemption coming to life within her. "That's it!" she declared, scurrying toward her bag and digging through it for her notebook and quill. Once she retrieved the tools of her trade, she started writing.

"Uh... what's it?" Draco asked softly.

Hermione's quill flew over the parchment in her notebook. "Your heroine's name is Rose. She has been abducted by the Dark Sorcerer's evil minions. What color are Pansy's eyes? I can't remember."

"Brown," he answered quickly, realizing that his client was having some sort of creative fit.

Twirling the quill between her fingers, Hermione closed her eyes. "Does she have any uncles?"

"No, not that I am aware of. Why?"

Hermione's eyes popped open, and she jotted down a note. "Evil uncle... in league with Dark Sorcerer... abducts Rose to fulfill prophecy. Since the Sorcerer's powers have been depleted and his body destroyed, he'll need a new body. Rose is pregnant, her husband killed in a tragic accident. Drago is actually an imbedded spy, and..."

"I think you're getting me confused with Snape, which is quite unnerving. I still don't see what the attraction is. Quite frankly, I don't want to know, but as your lawyer, I must caution you against..."

"He wasn't the only spy in the war. Spies. Wars. That's public domain," Hermione hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to stave off a headache. With little to eat and poor sleep habits, the oncoming headache was going to be a big one, and she wanted to get the main plot hashed out before she went to bed.

Draco clamped his mouth shut and waited patiently for his client to finish her rant.

"Her abduction and her husband's murder will have to take place near the end of her first trimester." Hermione brushed her hair out of the way and kept writing.

"I thought you said her husband was in an accident."

"Don't bother me with details. I'm trying to get the main storyline written down. I'll worry about details later."

Draco conjured a chair and sat down.

"Yes, yes." The only sound in the room was the frantic scratching of her quill against the parchment. "Her husband's murder will be disguised as an accident. She will be abducted near the beginning of her second trimester, that way she and Drago will have time to get to know one another. She will have to go into premature labor, but not too premature because I want the baby to survive. Her premature labor will expose Drago's true allegiances as he spirits her away...

"Wow! I think this might actually work!" Hermione giggled excitedly.

--

Severus paced the length of his office and waited. He hovered around the fireplace, not for warmth, but in anticipation. Hermione would arrive soon, per their agreement. He had to give her credit. She had negotiated the details of her indentured servitude with a poise that was uncommon in most Gryffindors.

To be honest, he didn't have much of the plan...just like when he showed up during her vacation...and he was becoming irritated over the fact that Hermione seemed to hold sway over his scheming Slytherin nature. He had been so focused on getting her into his domain that he hadn't thought past that. During the negotiations, she had thought of everything. During the times she was not working for him, she would be sequestered in Gryffindor tower, which presented him with the difficulty of getting around Minerva.

He didn't know what it was about her that held him back. The dark part of his soul demanded immediate action, but she appealed to something within him that had long been ignored, and he hadn't quite figured that out. Merlin knew that he had the means at his disposal to do what he wanted with her. He held the patents on lust potions that were illegal in wizarding Britain. He could drug her, have his way with her, and modify her memories.

So, why didn't he?

He wanted more than that, he admitted. He had tasted her aphrodisiac-like passion, a passion that he would likely never tire of, and he wanted more. He was out of his element, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Intimacy was not one of his strengths.

It wasn't as though he wanted a committed relationship with her. He just needed a sexual one. He would shag the young Gryffindor senseless and exorcise those demons, and then he could forget her and get on with his life. That would be the end of Hermione Granger. There was only one small complication to his plan...

She wanted nothing to do with him.

He needed to woo her, but he hadn't a clue as to how to go about that. He needed help. He needed advise, but from whom?

Minerva was most likely to advise him to stay as far away from Hermione as possible. For some odd reason, the deputy headmistress did not approve of him. He couldn't ask Albus either. After all, his love life, or lack thereof, was even more pathetic than his own.

Love life? Wooing?

Having dealt in lies and deceit his entire life, he had difficulty recognizing the truth whenever it decided to present itself. The manifestation of physical ills...insomnia and loss of appetite...was off-putting to say the least. He had ignored the symptoms for the last few weeks, convinced that he may have picked up some exotic bug while in the tropics.

Crossing his office with purposeful strides, he entered the lavatory and looked into the mirror. What he saw made his stomach do an odd flip. Though he looked the same on the outside...shoulder length, stringy black hair, crooked nose and teeth...he didn't recognize the look in his eyes. He shook his head and wanted to retch.

"I don't believe this," he murmured to his reflection. "You're in love with Hermione Granger."

--

TBC

Author's Notes: My poor beta-reader, Jen. She is my cheerleader. She is the one who pats my shoulder and tells me it's okay if I trash a chapter I'm almost finished with and start from scratch. She deserves a friggin' medal! Then there is Cocoachristy, who has been dealing with real life issues. I can't thank her enough for polishing and completing my thoughts. It's a tough job, and I am ever so grateful that you can do it.

Thanks to everyone for the well wishes regarding my health! I wish I could say the crisis is over, but it isn't. I have now entered the "pain-management" phase of my incredibly long recovery. I have also had new issues arise, but shan't bore you with the laundry list of garbage that has been placed before me. In closing, I have only one thing to say... Getting old sucks eggs!

P. S. There is some good news. Chapter ten is practically finished, and the muse is hopping up and down and dedicated to finishing this story prior to book seven. Wish us luck!