The Silver Envelope

Blind Spot

The air outside had become steadily cooler. Draco led Hermione into the star-flecked night, once more holding her hand.
Instead of discussing what had just happened (or hadn't happened), she told him about the magical barrier they had set up the previous day. It ran nearly a mile in every direction, meaning they had
plenty of room for a moonlit stroll
Her hand was warm in his. He savored the rush of the contact, knowing that it wouldn't last long.
He wondered if this was the hand that she'd used when she touched no. Those thoughts were off limits. He wouldn't be able to control himself around her if he was imagining that again.
The farther they walked from the bright glow of the party, the easier it was to see the stars overhead. The sight was spectacular. Even from the astronomy tower at Hogwarts, Draco had never seen so many stars at once before.
"Draco," Hermione said.
He braced himself. By her tone, he knew she was about to ask one of those dreadful questions she was always coming up with.
"Were you jealous when I danced with Viktor?" she asked.
Draco barked out a relieved laugh.
"I thought you were going to ask something intrusive and horrid again," he said. "The Bulgarian poses no threat to me."
He looked over at Hermione, trying to make out her expression in the starlight. She was already lost in thought, deeply considering some unsaid piece of his answer. Draco shot her a wicked grin.
Although, if you were interested in a ménage à trois, I'm sure something could be arranged, Granger," he said, his voice low in her ear.
He enjoyed the sight of her wide, shocked eyes and deep blush. She ripped her hand out of his and smacked his shoulder hard when he snickered at her indignation.
"Alright, alright! It was only a joke! Unless you say yes," he teased, earning another sharp smack
from her.
She appeared to have regained her most Hermione-ish attitude. She strode confidently in front of him, completely unaware of the brilliant smile on his face as he watched her. Her arms drew up to warm herself as she walked, and he realized she must be cold, wearing nothing but that thin dress.
Literally nothing, he remembered. His throat went dry at the thought, but he pushed it away. He would have to resume their game another night.
Silently, he crept up behind her, slipping off his jacket. He settled it on her shoulders, causing her to start and look around at him.
"You are a witch, right?" Draco joked. "Don't you know how to conjure a shawl for yourself?'
Hermione smirked.
"Maybe I just wanted to take your jacket," she said with a mischievous smile.
"It's yours," he said simply.
Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets, not wanting her to see how tightly he was balling his fists in order to keep himself from touching her.
One of his hands brushed against the roll of film he'd stowed in his trouser pocket.
The reminder caused his stomach to turn leaden.
He needed to speak with her now, while he could.
"Hermione," he said gently. "I need to run something past you."
She looked up at him, curious.
Draco pressed his lips together as he considered the best way to admit his plotting to her.
"Ginny had a secondary reason for inviting me tonight," he said.
A smile twitched across her lips.

"I know," she said. "She was trying to push us together to make up for forcing me to smooth things
over with Ron."
Draco smiled blandly at that.
"Yes and no," he admitted. "She invited me tonight on the condition that I would help her turn the tides in Hermione's favor.' Those were her words."
Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. She waited for him to explain.
Grimly, Draco produced the roll of film he'd bought, holding it up for her to see.
"We thought there was a chance Weasley might lose his temper tonight," Draco said. "I made
arrangements to...capture the moment
Hermione's eyes went wide as she looked at the small canister between his fingers. She stopped walking, staring at him incredulously, the wind blowing her curls back from her face.
"That photographer.. the one who interrupted us?" she asked.
"Yes. He's been keeping tabs on you both all evening," Draco said. "He caught Weasley pushing you on the dance floor. And I believe there's an image of him flirting with one of Ginny's teammates, as well.
Hermione's eyes were huge.
"Why?" she gasped.
"Your falling out with Weasley has landed you in a lot of hot water. And despite the fact that the blame of the situation falls entirely on him, you have shouldered the brunt of it all, publicly and
privately. Someone needed to do something. So, Ginny asked me to collect evidence and disperse the truth behind Weasley's behavior. But I won't do it without your say-so."
Hermione was floored!
"You.. you're telling me that Ginny told you to publicly embarrass her brother? On my behalf?" Hermione said in disbelief.
Draco lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
"She's smart, your friend. She knows that without proof, everyone would continue to believe that Weasley is some faultless chump who was deceived by his scheming, spiteful girlfriend. Even their whole family seems convinced that you broke his heart for no reason. Both she and I are tired of watching people take his side and drag your name through the mud."
"So you want to publish pictures, out of context, depicting me as some helpless victim, just to make him look bad?" she said, her voice rising in pitch.
"He wouldn't look bad in the pictures if he hadn't done anything wrong. He did this to himself, Hermione," Draco said coldly.
She looked at him in horror.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Hermione asked suddenly. "I always knew you hated Harry, but now it seems to only be Ron. What did he do to you?"
Draco narrowed his eyes.
"I would have thought that was obvious," he drawled.
Hermione shook her head. Her voice turned icy.
"I've been trying to work through it all night. I thought you were jealous of Ron because you wanted me. I figured you were the...possessive sort. But then tonight, it was obvious that you weren't jealous of Viktor, despite my history with him." She took a deep breath before speaking her next thought. "So if you're a jealous person, but you aren't jealous when it comes to me, that means you must not...must not care about me after all. Not really.
She looked away, her face hard.
"It's not the first time I've considered that you're just using me to hurt Ron. But what I can't figure out is why. Why Ron? Why through me? Why can't you leave it alone now?"
The wind near this area of the cliffside much stronger. It howled ominously as it rushed over the sharp edges of the rocks, carrying their voices out to the dark sea. Hermione was as immovable as the stone beneath her feet, her eyes just as tough.
Draco considered his words carefully. One wrong step, and he would end up pushing her away
forever.
"I can see why you'd think that," he said slowly. "Let me see if I can explain this to you."
He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, looking out to the black sea as if it would provide him with the words he needed to make her understand how he felt.
"I am the possessive sort. You were right about that," he said, not looking at her. "But not in the
way you've come to expect from that bumbling, insecure prat you've been dating.'
He glanced at her. Her chin was angled defiantly, waiting.
*When you danced with Krum, I wasn't worried. If you were to get on the back of his Firebolt and ride off into the sunset with him, I would wish you well. I have no issue with Krum," Draco explained, his voice slightly acidic.
His fists tightened.
"But then you danced with Weasley," he said, his voice rough with fury. "He's hurt you. And he will hurt you again if you let him."
Hermione didn't speak, but her eyes widened slightly as she took in his words.
"When I saw Weasley's hands on you, I wanted to rip his arms from their sockets. Not out of jealousy." He spat the word as if it were the most pathetic concept he'd ever encountered. "But because I will not allow him to hurt you. Ever again."
Hermione's hair was pushed back by the howling wind, allowing him to see her face clearly in the cool starlight. She didn't speak, so he continued, his voice now a touch calmer.
"Krum-I'm pretty sure he's harmless. So, if you chose him, I would back off," Draco said. "I can't make your decisions for you. But I will not stand aside while someone hurts you
"He's never been violent," Hermione whispered, her voice barely carrying over the wind. "You asked me that earlier. He's never hurt me, not really. He doesn't deserve to be made out to the media as some monster."
"What do you mean, 'not really?"" he ground out.
"He's never hit me," she explained, crossing her arms defensively. "Just... I dunno. Made a fuss around me. Punched holes in walls, that sort of thing. He has a temper, but he's never actually hurt me."
Draco's teeth were clenched tightly at the thought of it.
Weasley had been intimidating her. From experience, Draco knew that it was a short step from that to actually laying his hands on her. Of course, Hermione probably thought she could defend herself if it came to that. But tonight, Weasley had gone straight for her wand arm. If no one had been there to step in, he might have overpowered her with that single move. However, if he pointed that out, he might risk angering her further. She wouldn't want to hear that he saw her as vulnerable and in need of his protection.
Hermione has a blind spot where Ron is concerned, Ginny had said.
Draco took in her defensive posture, her closed expression. He was losing her.
"Fine," Draco said, a hard edge to his voice. "I won't send the photos anywhere."
He pocketed the cannister of film and turned on his heel to stride away.
"Wait!" Hermione shouted after him.
He slowed his walking, allowing her to catch up. Her hand wrapped around his arm and jerked him
to a stop.
"Give it to me." she said. holding out her hand for the roll of film. "I don't trust you not to blackmail him.
99
Out of everything that had transpired between them in the last several weeks, those words sliced into his chest like nothing else had. He felt hollow, drained completely of the small amount of hope she had gifted him. Draco tried to keep calm, but felt his hands begin to shake.
They stood there for a moment, at an impasse. Her, holding out a hand for the film. Him, hands in his trouser pockets, clutching the film in his fingers greedily. He looked her up and down, assessing her. If she wanted it badly enough, they might finally find out which one of them would win in a duel.
Hermione's expression was hard. She would not back down.
Draco sighed and looked away.
"I'lI give it to Ginny," he suggested. "That way I can't blackmail-" he spat the word with a cruel twist to his mouth,
"anyone, and you'll know it's there if you end up needing it."
Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"Why not just give it to me?" she said.
"Because you'd just burn it, or chuck it over the cliffside,"
Draco said with a sneer. Hermione
blushed, and he knew he had guessed correctly. "And I think such a rash decision would be unwise."
Hermione huffed.
"Fine. When Ginny comes back up, give it to her."
"Fine," he echoed.
In icy silence, they walked back the way they had come. As they did, Draco was careful to conceal his wand, which he pointed into his pocket and used to cast a nonverbal spell.
If she wasn't going to trust him anyway, why should he bother being trustworthy?
When they got to the line of tents near the ceremony clearing, Hermione stopped in front of one of them, folding her arms crossly.
Draco's eyes followed her gaze to the edge of the rocky ground, knowing she was wondering how long she would have to wait for everyone to start coming back up.
It could be ages. He rolled his eyes, more at himself than anything. Things had been going so well, tonight. Perhaps he should have waited to bring up the film. Or found some other way to tell her, one that wouldn't have caused her to glare at him the way she was now.
"There's a path that leads down to the bay somewhere," Hermione said. "If we looked around, I'm
sure we could find it."
Draco raised a brow.
"You're willing to stumble down a mountainside in that dress just to hand Ginny a roll of film? Oh, and then climb back up afterwards, in the dark. Just to avoid using the parasol?" he asked.
Hermione let out a low growl of frustration.
"I'm beginning to hate this party," she muttered.
"I can go alone," he suggested.
"Then how will I know if you actually did it?" Hermione shot back.
He had no answer for her.
He'd worked so hard to earn her trust. He'd opened up, told her things he'd never wanted to say aloud, much less to someone who hated him. He'd stuck by her side, defended her and helped her.
And now a he had to show for it was a roll of film and a bitter taste in his month
"Why don't I just call down the mountainside to her, and then chuck it into her hands?" he suggested sarcastically. It came out sounding harsher than he'd meant it to.
But instead of taking offense, Hermione's face cleared.

"Oh! That's it!" she said.
Draco frowned in confusion.
"You want me to chuck-"
"No! Not that!" she said, waving away the suggestion. "I mean there's a way we can make sure it gets to her.
She looked over near the designated apparition location, where a few security wizards were still standing. A large table had been set up near the spot, burdened with a truly obnoxious number of gifts.
"We wrap it up as a wedding gift," Hermione said. "I can take it over to the table and say I forgot to
leave it there earlier."
It was a good suggestion. Draco pulled the cannister out, pointed his wand at it, and watched white paper and a silver ribbon wrap around it in a box shape
He handed it to Hermione but followed her over anyway. He still suspected that she might try to banish it from existence if he didn't watch her hand it to security. Once the "gift" had joined the rest of the pile, they walked back to the tents.
Several people passed them, heading home; mostly older people Draco didn't know. Several of them called over to Hermione, sweeping her into obligatory conversations about writing each other soon and saying hello to other family members. He suspected that the party was transitioning from an elegant celebration of love to a raucous excuse to drink. He wondered what Hermione would be like during a party like that. It made him regret coming up here alone with her. He'd rather have watched her drink too much and dance promiscuously with Krum than be alone with her and fighting about Weasley
Hermione finally got herself away from the small crowd of people and started to walk back in the direction of her tent. She stopped when she saw him still standing there, watching the dark ocean
"Are you going to go back to the party?" she asked from behind him.
"No. I'll only want to drink," he told the sea.
She was silent. For a moment, he thought she might have slipped into her tent without saying goodnight. But then she spoke.
"I want to trust you, Draco," she said quietly. "I want to believe that you've changed. But I don't quite yet know how to reconcile my memories of who you've always been with who you seem to be now. You're so worried that Ron will hurt me, but everyone else in my life is convinced that you're the one who will hurt me. How am I supposed to get past that?"
Draco closed his eyes. He listened to the distant waves. He breathed in the cool, moist air. He ignored the dread that was weighing down his heart and pumping frost through his veins.
"Don't bother," he finally said. He turned to her, his face blank. "They're probably right anyway."
He didn't give her the chance to respond. His long legs carried him to the apparition zone, and he took himself home.