Vacivitas

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Because Tracey knows Healing spells."

Confusion starts to spin in her mind, which is still heavy with the remnants of her nightmares and the false memories she's going to have to endure until after the party.

"I don't understand."

Malfoy's fork clinks against his plate as he taps it against it.

"Blaise is my friend, if you could call him that," he says. "I needed his help."

Hermione feels stupid. Unintelligent. Like she can't catch up. "So...He gave her his wand to heal me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Granger." Malfoy tips his head back with a heavy sigh. "Because I asked them to help."

"Why?"

Malfoy throws his fork down. "I can't deal with this right now."

"Is it because you didn't want me to die?"

"I told you this already," he bites out through clenched teeth, glaring at her.

"Yes, but you lie about everything. You are a liar." She takes a bite of her food. "How am I to know what's true and what isn't?"

"I don't lie."

Hermione raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. "It's all right. I already know the answer."

"And what, pray, is the answer?" He's clearly angry.

"You don't want me to die. Why? Because I'm an excellent blood source. You've got me wrapped around your finger, trapped by deals and promises. As long as you keep me alive, you have blood, and you don't have to buy people anymore."

"That's not–"

"Oh, but it is," she interrupts, taking a sip of her juice. "If it wasn't, you would already be across the table with your hands around my throat, choking me into submission at the disrespect of my insinuation."

His eyes flash with indignation built upon a foundation of disturbance.

She's right.

"Is that what you want?" he hisses, placing his hands on the table. "Because I can do that for you if you wish."

"Of course not." She scoffs. "I only want you to know that I'm aware. I'm aware of the game you've been playing. You like to keep me on my toes, believing things that aren't true so I don't make things more difficult for you. Dealing with a complacent, mewling, wanton Hermione Granger isn't as difficult as dealing with swotty, defiant, angry Hermione Granger. You don't want me to put up a fight."

He stands up. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

"It's not." She spears food with her fork. "You don't like it."

"And you would know that, how?"

She chews, glancing up to meet his eyes. "You prefer me pleading."

To her triumphant satisfaction, she sees a red flush crawling up his throat. It may be from fury. It may be from embarrassment. She doesn't know.

All she knows is that yet again, she's right.

"Sit down, Dramatic Malfoy," she says, an order. After another bite, she says, "I don't know anything about these parties, and I'd like to."

He looks shocked. In spite of his Occlumency, Malfoy's been caught off guard by Hermione.

Again.

"I suppose we should...Talk about it," he says, his words halting. "You're right."

"I'm always right."