AN #2: Harry Potter's world belongs to JK Rowling. I only write using it to improve my own writing skills. Nor do I own Much Ado About Nothing. However, Danielle Varens is all MINE, and I reserve the right to use her however I wish.
Danielle studied Malfoy for long moments, her mind quickly whirring from scenario to scenario. The implications of those ten words numbered in the millions. The politician in her wanted to sit down and start mapping them out, figuring each possibility to her advantage - starting with the choice of helping him or denying him.
He finally turned to look at her, arctic gray eyes meeting ice blue irises. His eyes widened.
She smirked.
Malfoy looked away first, his gaze returning to the horizon.
Danielle's smirk increased, taking further possession of her face.
Oh, yeah. She had the power here.
"Why?" she demanded.
"Because it would make living with her easier," he promptly replied, injecting a certain amount of bemusement into his voice.
One thin eyebrow arched.
"And?"
A sigh answered.
The waves lapped at the wood, rocking the platform of the dock.
He turned to face her straight on, crossing his arms across his chest, gaze locking with hers again.
"My mother and I are under investigation by the Ministry for our association with the Death Eaters before the war. It would be to our advantage were I to make amends with Potter's side-" he paused, giving his next words import, "particularly were I to make those amends with Granger." His eyes flicked away before meeting her gaze again. "Savvy, Varens?"
Danielle settled onto one hip to study him, thoughtfully lipping at the knuckle of her index finger.
Malfoy's hands went from resting on his upper arms to clutching at his rib cage as she regarded him.
She concealed a smile.
"I'll help you."
She watched as he visibly relaxed. Let him think he'd fooled her.
After all, one didn't need respect in order to have the upper hand.
~*~
Harry knocked on the entrance to Hermione's suite. He shuffled his feet a little as he waited for someone to answer. He only hoped she was here; he'd already looked everywhere else. If she didn't open the door, his only recourse would be to search the school all over again.
It would probably take all afternoon, and he'd miss Quidditch practice.
Fortunately for his time and his continued position as team captain, Hermione pulled the door wide and stood in the opening, blinking up at him.
He smiled down at her. She was so cute, with her hair rumpled from sleep, dressed in loose sweats and a t-shirt that was perhaps a little bit too small.
"Hey, Harry," she yawned, once she had gotten her bearings. "What's up?"
He loved standing next to her. She always made him feel so tall in comparison, like he was a giant and she a princess he had kidnapped. He felt himself growing warm.
Okay, best not to follow that line of thought.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay after seeing you leave the Great Hall like that," he murmured, shifting to lean against the stone outcropping that concealed the entryway.
"Oh." Annoyance flickered across her face, but was quickly gone as she yawned again. "I'm fine. Really."
"Oh. That's good."
He shifted again so he was standing upright.
She rocked back on her heels and bit her lip.
He massaged the back of his neck.
She crossed her arms.
"Er, what was that about anyways?" he finally asked. "That Varens girl didn't upset you or anything, did she?"
Her mouth dropped open.
Oops.
"Danielle is perfectly sweet, Harry," Hermione said scathingly. "You have absolutely no call to be rude to her. And no, she didn't upset me."
He swallowed, setting his Adam's apple bobbing.
"I'm sorry, I just thought -"
"What, Harry?" she interrupted. "That just because she's not your biggest fan ever that she must be a complete bitch?" She shook her head, leaning away from him, her lip curled. "Grow up, Harry. It's time to stop judging people."
Harry's hands curled into fists at his sides, his feet shoulder length apart, as he, too, leaned away from his best friend.
"You don't hear what she says to me!" he protested, glaring wildly. "She's a shrew, a vindictive shrew! A regular Beatrice!" he snorted derisively.
There was a beat of silence.
Hermione chuckled, relaxing her stance.
"What?" Harry demanded, still indignant.
She just giggled, "So if she's Beatrice, you're who? Benedick?"
Harry paled.
And then smiled.
And then slid down the doorframe, laughing with her.
"Merlin, no!" he chortled. "Gaaaaah! Heavens preserve me!"
"Hmmp!"
Harry paused to see Hermione blushing, fingers covering the mouth from which that most unladylike snort had just been emitted.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to roll on the floor and laugh with him.
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