Temptation Pour Deux

by Annie Adrienne
 
 

Chapter 3
A Proposition
 

Hermione pushed the old oak door to the Astronomy tower open slowly, half expecting Malfoy to be in there with

all of Slytherin house to back him up. She wouldn’t put it past him to go through all this trouble just to make a fool
out of her- even that kiss- but she wasn’t going to think about that.

“I knew you’d come.” He said, a genuine -for once- grin crossing his face. He was leaning against one of the walls,

staring out the window in what he must have thought was a debonair pose. She had to try hard to keep from laughing.
“This is one of the only places we can really be alone in the castle…”

“And why exactly do we need to be alone, Draco?” she asked, trying to affect a haughty air. “I hope you know what

happened yesterday doesn’t mean anything-”

“Oh, but it does.” He laughed, making his way through the rows of desks and over to her. “I didn’t ask you here to

snog, Hermione, as much as I’d love it-” she blushed, and his smile grew even wider- “I came here to ask if you’d
thought about my proposition.”

“There was a proposition hidden in your oh-so-twisted line between good and evil? I must have missed it amongst all

the bull- ”

“There was a proposition, Hermione… to see the other side of that coin. I’m giving you the opportunity to experience,

first hand, what it’s like to be on my side. You can see for yourself where you want to fight after that.”

“Oh really, Draco?” She shook her head, mentally berating herself for even entertaining his foolish little fantasy. “And

what do you suggest I do? Transfer to Slytherin? I highly doubt Professor Dumbledore would let me this late-”

“No, you silly girl. Summer vacation is coming up soon… you could come home with me. We could tell our parents

we were dating- I’ve told my father I have a girlfriend. So he wouldn’t worry, mostly.”

“And what about my blood? Wouldn’t he be able to tell I wasn’t- pure?” she asked, a hint of venom in her voice.

One of the things that she hated most about Malfoy, and Slytherins in general, was their dependency on pure wizard
bloodlines.

“You can’t just tell, Hermione.” He said, growing a bit irritated. “He’d have to know your family lines, and I sincerely

doubt he’d care as long as you were pretty enough. Which, my dear-” he smirked- “you certainly are. So are you
coming or not?”

She sighed, moving away from him and walking towards the window. She had nothing else to do this summer- nothing

but stay with her muggle family, back in a muggle town surrounded by bloody muggles. She’d never had a problem
with it before- but as she grew better as a witch, she wanted increasingly to live around magic, to live with magic. But
was it worth it? Would Draco’s dark side tempt her, would she even make it though the summer alive?

It was dangerous- very, very dangerous. However she’d hide herself, there was a chance she’d be found- who knew

what kind of magic the Malfoys used? But it could be worth it. She wanted to do something in her life- not just be one
of Harry Potter’s sidekicks, and a walking Gryffindor spell encyclopedia. She was more than that. And she could
accomplish more. Hermione stole a glance back at Draco, and he only smirked at her, already quite certain she’d be
coming. She laughed.

“Maybe, Malfoy. Maybe.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and briskly walked to the other side of the room, stepping out and shutting the

door behind her, still laughing softly to herself. Stunned for only a moment, Draco ran after the pretty brunette, jumping
down almost an entire flight of stairs to catch up with her.

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean Hermione?” he asked, stepping in front of her and blocking her way down the

stairs. She rolled her eyes.

“It means what it means! I’m still not sure why you’re offering me this… this chance at learning what the other side is

like. For all you know, I could feed information back to Dumbledore, he may know about this already-”

“I know you better than you think, Granger. You may pretend to be some rule-abiding, perfect, prissy little prefect,”

he said, as if it was the worst insult imaginable, “but I know better. You’re not Potter and Weasel’s tag along, or a
teacher’s pet- you’ve a mind of your own, Hermione. And I think I’m one of the few boys who’s not a Weasley,
honorary or no, who knows exactly how great a mind that is.”

“So what, Draco, you see me as some sort of challenge? A worthy opponent to your own brilliance?” she asked

dryly.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he reached out to tuck a strand of no-longer-bushy brown hair behind her ears.

She rolled her eyes again as he laughed.

“Exactly, my dear muggle, exactly. Ah, but I can’t call you muggle anymore, can I? Because in a week or so, you’ll

be pure-blooded and perfect.”

“Oh really?” she asked, eyebrow raised as they began to walk down the stairs together. “And how are you going to

manage that?”

He grinned.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”
 

 
 


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