Chapter 11: End Game Part 2....

Chapter 11: End Game Part 2

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Severus ate the strawberries.

Severus hates strawberries.

"Laaadieees and gentlemen! Please take your seats, as play is about to begin! Spectators are reminded that flash photography is not allowed while the ball is in play. Thank you!" The Muggle umpire's voice sounded loud and confident above the excited hubbub of the crowd.

About her, people began to sink back into the seats in the Royal Box, arranging themselves comfortably, chattering in excited whispers about the game ahead. She caught snatches of conversation.

"... Just as good as Borg..."

"... Two hundred on..."

"... Not like it was when..."

"... Taking the first set..."

Hermione stared blankly at the back of Severus' head, unable to breathe. As she looked on, she saw Draco reach up and stroke Severus' cheek with the fingers of one curled hand.

Narcissa leaned over her shoulder and made a small satisfied noise in her throat. "Not yours anymore, I think, Professor," she murmured in Hermione's ear.

"I believe that you will need to take your seat, dear." Lucius' voice cut through the rushing sound in Hermione's ears. He placed a proprietorial hand on Hermione's arm. "Shouldn't you be looking for your Muggle... companion?"

Narcissa's lips thinned. "Very well, husband," she spat. Hermione did not miss the emphasis that she placed on the final word. "I'll leave you and your delightful guest to the game. I believe that the view will be better from my seat, anyway."

Lucius smirked in great satisfaction as his wife spun on her heels and stalked away, up the shallow steps in the aisle towards the rear of the box. He waggled his eyebrows at Hermione, who was still staring at him in a kind of stunned haze.

He leaned forwards towards her once more. "Thank you, my dear," he murmured. "That was just what the doctor ordered." He giggled suddenly. "Narcissa will be absolutely furious...!"

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "W– what? Mr Malfoy, I..." Her voice sounded incongruously loud amidst the hush of the surrounding spectators, and a silver haired man sitting in front of her turned around, scowling at them.

"Shhhh, my dear!" whispered Lucius, patting her arm again, his eyes dancing. "Let us watch the game. They are about to tee off."

***

A dark corridor. Figures move and come together. The smell of sweat and fear and desperation hangs heavily in the air.

In the shadows of the corridor, half-hidden by a large tapestry, stands Theodore Nott. The young Slytherin shakes with emotion, his hands balled tightly into fists by his side.

***

The match was finely balanced, the crowd rowdily enthusiastic, hooting and applauding the physicality of the players as they skidded and lunged, smashed and parried around the court.

Lucius was thoroughly excited, as caught up with the action as almost everyone else around him. "For a game with only one ball and two players, this really is surprisingly enjoyable," he commented, hunched forward over his silver-tipped cane.

Hermione nodded absently, keeping half an eye on the game before them and the other half on Severus and Draco. Part of her mind was still numb with shock. She had had no idea. No idea at all that there had been something between Severus and Draco. She fixed her attention on the oddly coordinated familiarity of their body language, trying to make sense of the way that they were sitting so closely together; Draco's head was virtually on Severus' shoulder, for Merlin's sake! Why was Snape allowing it? In the all too short days of her liaison with him, he had not even allowed her to take his arm in the corridors of the school....

Indeed, apart from that first night at the pub and the time they had spent together in their private chambers, he had not even allowed her to touch him at all. At all!

Hermione felt a wave of deep hurt and angry resentment wash through her. Perhaps, she thought, feeling her face begin to flush and her throat tightening, this was all a huge mistake.

Her heart began thumping in her chest so heavily that she could feel it in her throat. Was this all a game to get me to this place? To trap me? To humiliate me? Hot tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks, and she blinked furiously. Is Severus a part of this?

She dashed quick looks to her left and right. Lucius was still engrossed in the game, clapping and cheering the players on. Nott, on the other hand, was also watching Severus and Draco, his face tense and drawn. Hermione frowned. What...?

"Look! Look, my dear!" Lucius' delighted cry interrupted her painful thoughts. "They are changing their balls!"

Hermione stared at him for a horrified moment before she realised what he actually meant.

"I... I thought that you would be more familiar with tennis. After all..." Hermione waved her hand to indicate their surroundings.

"After all...?"

"Well, you are a member here! I thought..."

"Oh no, my dear girl! Don't be so droll. A simple bribe and Confundus Charm on the Membership Committee..." He waved his hand airily at her shocked expression.

He shot a quick glance behind them both and then grinned maniacally at her. "Can she see me? Can Narcissa see me?" he asked breathlessly as the players completed another exhausting rally to tumultuous applause. The crowd shifted and undulated, some standing up and stretching, chattering excitedly to one another. Lucius strained to see behind them.

Hermione couldn't have cared less what Narcissa Malfoy was doing. She shifted uncomfortably as he leaned over again.

"That's not all I can do," Malfoy murmured in her ear. "Care to see?"

The play resumed. The taller of the two finalists bounced the ball in his hand once, twice, three times... bent his knees... tossed the ball in the air, and...

The ball dropped to his feet, unstruck.

The crowd ooohed in surprise.

Malfoy smirked.

The player called for another ball and began to go through his pre-serve preparations as before.

"Top left hand corner," whispered Lucius.

The racket blurred, and the ball flew forwards... hitting the top left hand corner of the box.

"Fifteen, love," the umpire called.

The serving player reset himself. Bounced the ball. Bent, dipped...

"Middle right, fifteen all," Lucius murmured.

And struck. The ball hit the middle right of his opponent's serving box and was returned with a swerving low back-handed volley that left him standing.

"Fifteen all!"

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed.

Lucius snickered a little at her expression. "You see, the slightest impetus can push an object off balance, can make it behave as it shouldn't...."

He twirled the serpent cane again in his fingers.

The crowd aaahed.

"Fifteen, thirty!"

He leaned closer again. "How do you think I rebuilt my fortune, Professor?"

"Fifteen, forty!"

Hermione pulled back from him, jostling into Nott with her shoulder. "That's illegal!" she blurted, her voice sounding shrill in her ears.

Lucius tutted and waggled his fingers. "I prefer to think of it as good karma, Professor. What goes around..." He waggled his eyebrows knowingly.

"Malfoy men are used to getting what they want, eh, Lucius?" Nott muttered. "No matter what the cost."

Lucius smiled at that and lifted the cane slightly, his fingers caressing the flat top of the snake's head.

The crowd roared, and a thunder of applause swept the court.

"Game and second set!" called the umpire. The crowd erupted again into a riot of excitement. The players returned to their seats for the break between games.

Hermione's attention was drawn once more to the dark figure sitting stiffly below them, Draco's arm draped casually around the seat behind his shoulder. Her heart constricted painfully again.

"And what about Draco?" she asked Lucius as if poking a sore tooth. "Has he got what he wants?"

Lucius pursed his lips. "Oh, I'm sure he will find his way." At her arched eyebrow, Lucius sighed in an exaggerated manner and brushed a speck of dust from his jacket's arm.

"Draco prefers to labour for his rewards. He has recently developed an interest in... Oh, what do they call them? Muggle potions. If it hadn't been for the... distractions... of his teenage years, he would no doubt have been studying for his mastership by now. He served his Rehabilitation at one of their Muggle hospitals and aided their Healers in the... What was the name of the place? The pharmacy. I believe that he has developed some interesting compounds of his own, isn't that right, Theodore?"

Nott made a small strangled noise in the back of his throat and looked away, back to where Draco was running a possessive finger along Severus' collar beneath his hair.

She watched Severus shudder under his touch, then relax.

Sod this, she thought suddenly. Sod it all. I'm leaving.

She rose to her feet, just as the crowd began to cheer and bay in anticipation. Confused by the sudden outburst, Hermione spun about, then realised that the players had finished their break and were taking their places for the next set.

"Professor?" Malfoy asked her, surprised.

"Hermione?" Nott reached up to catch her arm. She jerked it free, scowling fiercely at her colleague.

Hermione turned to face Lucius, her jaw set and her fingers brushing over the wand hidden in her clutch bag. "I'm leaving," she hissed baldly. "I don't know what you are all playing at, you manipulative bastards, but I want nothing to do with any of you." She glowered at Nott and had the brief satisfaction of seeing him blanch under her angry regard. She could not bear to look in Severus' direction.

"Would all spectators please take their seats quickly, as play is about to resume...." The umpire's announcement prompted a ripple of applause from the Muggle spectators around the tennis court.

"Please don't go, Professor," Malfoy urged. "I apologise for my outrageous display earlier. I fear that I was... showing off."

"What do you want, Mr Malfoy?" she asked him bluntly. "Why did you invite me and Severus here today?"

"... Play is about to begin, ladies and gentlemen.... Madam, would you please take your seat without delay?"

Hermione glanced down towards the umpire and was shocked to see the serving player bouncing his ball pointedly while staring up directly at her.

Automatically, her knees buckled, and she all but collapsed into her seat. The ironic applause that broke out around her swiftly dissipated as she cast abrupt nonverbal Muffliato.

The fingers of her right hand gripped her wand tightly.

Malfoy's expression was slightly abashed.

"What do you want of me?" she reiterated, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent bubble that Muffliato provided. She had had enough of Slytherin posturing and half-truths.

To her surprise, she saw twin spots of pink bloom on his cheekbones.

"Enough. You should just ask her, Lucius." Nott's voice held the same bored note in it that Severus used when he was particularly anxious about something.

Lucius shot him a brief, poisonous look. "Miss... Professor Granger," he began. "I want... to beg for your forgiveness." He paused, clearly ruffled. "And ask for your endorsement."

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A/N: beaweasley2 and Clairvoyant are utterly wonderful. So is JKR, who owns all these characters, and those of you who take the time and trouble to review! Two more chapters to go now....