Hermione stood up and walked to the sink. She didn’t look at Malfoy when she said, “Once the information is confirmed, we need to do something about it.”

“We’ll turn it over to our employer and be done with it. That’s what spies do.” He typed something on the keyboard.

She turned around, “If you’re working for them, I can hardly trust their intentions.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

He looked at her, “We each don’t know who, or what, we’re working for. What did they tell you?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Why should I believe that I’m not the only one whose been lied to? The bad guys lie, not the other way around. And you knew we were working together long before I did.”

“Conjecture and inquiry informed me of our partnership, I was never actually given your name. Why are you so opposed to the fact that I may be just as misinformed as yourself?” He smirked, but his tone was serious.

“My recruiter came to me five years ago, shortly after the end of the war. He told me that he was part of an organization dedicated to policing international terrorism among wizards. They trained me to act like a muggle and I’ve specialized in infiltrating muggle companies who pose a risk to our kind. What’s your story? Let me guess, disenfranchised dark wizards scrambling for any power they can find? Ultimately trying to put purebloods on top?”

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” He actually sounded offended. “My motivations are my own, you’d do well to learn that.” He glanced at the screen, “Look at this.”

“Is that a weapon?” It didn’t look like a gun, but there were other, more dangerous tools.

“A type of bioweapon, I think.”

“A bioweapon?”

“From the looks of it, targeted specifically at wizards.”

“In a city? A country? What’s the range?”

“It’s airborne, look for yourself, but I can’t see anything about the range.” He stood up.

“So the genius doesn’t have all of the answers.” Hermione said, taking his seat.

“If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.” He reached for the cupboards.

“What did you say?”

Malfoy smirked again, “You heard me, Granger. It’s a muggle phrase, I have an entire book of them.” He continued searching. “Don’t you have any food?”

She rolled her eyes and continued reading the documents. It was fascinating. Apparently Alissa, or whoever owned the disk had been collecting information about wizards for years. They’d even captured a few. It was horrible, and ingenious.

“I asked you a question. It would be polite to answer me.” His voice was malevolent, and right in her ear.

“Since when have we ever been polite?” She turned to face him. There eyes were inches apart. “And since I’m not feeding you, I choose to ignore you.” Even though I’m a little hungry myself.

Malfoy laughed his sardonic laugh, “It’s not a crime to eat,” He backed up a little.

“So go buy your own food, I want to keep working on this.” He walked out, preferring food to an argument. Hermione continued to go through the disk. Twenty minutes later, Malfoy returned with two sandwiches.

“Let me on,” he said.

“I’m still looking.”

“Here,” he handed her a sandwich, he didn’t let go when she grabbed it. “Let me look over the disk while you eat.” She stood up, he let go of the food.

Several minutes later she heard him curse under his breath. “Such common language from a Malfoy? What will the other purebloods say?”

He ignored the comment. “I guess you don’t need to worry, Granger. The…thing…only affects real wizards, purebloods.”

“Care to elaborate?” Her phone rang, “Hello?”

“It’s Alissa. I just landed at the airport. On time, hard to believe, right? I’m going to pick up some food, do you want anything?”

“No, I just ate, and I may not be home when you get here.”

“Alright, got a date?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Maybe,” she laughed, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I’ve got to go, goodbye.”

Hermione hung up. “Shut that down. Alissa’s coming back. Why do you say only purebloods?”

“It targets persons with a certain gene that causes magic to manifest. Genes are…genetic, as you well know. If a person’s parents didn’t pass it down, they can’t have that gene.” He smiled triumphantly.

“Then why can muggleborns do magic?” He didn’t respond.

“Isn’t your roommate not supposed to arrive until after five? It’s 4:30.”

“Perhaps she gave the wrong time.” He shut down the computer. “What are you going to do with the disk?”

“I can’t trust it with you. For all I know, you’ll take it to your precious and mighty ministry. Or worse, Dumbledore.”

“And you might take it to your employer.”

“Need I remind you, Granger, that we work for the same people? Whoever they are.” He muttered the last, but she still heard.

Yeah, she thought, and once I know who they are…

“You’ll do what? If this…organization is discovered by average wizards, we’re both in trouble. And don’t tell me you’re innocent,” she made a noise to interrupt him, he held a hand up to silence her. “If you never thought anything you did for them wasn’t…sound…than you aren’t nearly as smart as you seem.” As smart as I think you are.

“I trust you have a computer.”

“Of course.”

She nodded, “Then come with me.” She ran into her room and came out a minute later. “Ready?” She walked out the door before he could answer.

Once he was seated in his car, he asked, “So, may I know where we’re going, or will you just tell me where to turn?”

“You’re staying in the city, correct?” He nodded, slowly. “Well, it’s always been a secret wish of mine to see how a Malfoy lives…” He nodded, rolling his eyes at her sugary tone and put the car in gear.

“Well,” she said when they stopped, “It’s not quite what I expected.” In fact, it was almost identical to her building.

“We’re spies, Granger. It would seem odd if I lived in anything nicer than this.”

“And you explain your car, how?”

“A gift from the father to the beloved son, of course. Lies are easy to maintain the truer they are.”

“Spoken like a true liar.”

“At least I come by it honestly.” Hermione smiled at got out of the car quickly, breaking their moment of camaraderie.

He led her to his flat on the fist floor. “Let’s see the computer and the disk.” A few minutes later they were seated at his kitchen table. “I’m going to make two copies, each will contain half of the disk.”

“Different halves, I hope.”

“Of course, you’ll take a half, I’ll take a half and the real disk, which I will give to Alissa. She’ll believe me when I tell her that she dropped it.”

He nodded. “Fine, it’s a deal.” She inserted the disk and did as promised.

Several minutes later she handed him a yellow disk. “There’s a program on both disks so they’ll operate together on a computer and we can access the information. I also put on a more complex encryption.” She held up a red disk, “This one is mine. Alissa will get the black one.”

“You did all of that in,” he checked his watch, “Fifteen minutes?”

“Computers are my specialty. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, “Nice colors, Granger.” He smiled, not mockingly, but like he appreciated the joke.

“Er, thanks,” she left the flat confused.

It was a thirty minute ride on the underground, Hermione spent the entire time thinking about Malfoy’s apparent change. “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered walking up the stairs to her flat. “He’s still a pretentious git.”

Alissa seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Who’s a pretentious git?”

“Oh, just some bloke from work.” She opened the door. Hermione walked to the kitchen and deftly dropped the disk on the table. “How was Spain?”

“Madrid has a nice airport.” She saw the disk, “Is that yours or mine?”

“I think you dropped it this morning.” She paused, “I thought you went to Barcelona.”

“Did I say Barcelona this morning?” She laughed, “I must have been more tired than I thought. No, I had meetings all day at the Madrid airport. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No,” she noticed Alissa’s arm, “Dangerous airport?”

“What?” She looked down at her bandages. “One of my colleagues spilled some coffee on me, it was really hot.” She smiled. The phone rang. Alissa jumped for it. “Hello?” She listened for a moment. “No, I’m sorry, this isn’t Cho’s China House.”

“Wrong number?”

“Yeah,” Alissa’s beeper went off. After checking it she looked apologetic. “I have to go.”

“I’m glad I don’t have your job.” Alissa left. After awhile, Hermione went to sleep.

A little girl handed Hermione a sunflower. “He loves me,” she giggled, pulling off a petal, “He loves me not,” tear fell down her cheek. “He loves me!” She giggled.

Hermione moved farther into the green field. It was extremely bright. Her parents appeared in front of her. “Witch!” Her mother shrieked as her father screamed, “Evil!”

“Whore!” The said together.

Hermione back peddled. “Hey!” A little blond boy said, “You’re going to squish me!”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s alright. Have you seen Hermione?”

“I am Hermione.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Nuh-uh, you’re way to big. She’s my height, big teeth, Alice band, have you seen her?”

“She’s that way,” Hermione pointed. The boy bounced off. Both children stayed in her sight. “Strange boy.”

“Cute kids,” said Malfoy.

Suddenly, Hermione knew. “They’re us. Were you really that nice as an eight year old?”

He shrugged, “It was a phase. Did you really play with sunflowers?”

“I don’t know.” They started walking. “You’re you, not a figment of my imagination?”

“I’m me.” He grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened, but he didn’t let go. “There’s a lake over there,” he tugged on her arm.

“How do you know?”

“It’s a dream, isn’t it? We can have anything we want.” A lake appeared. They sat in two leather armchairs staring at the glistening water.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked finally, turning her head to face him

He stared at her and smiled genuinely. “What’s wrong with me? I could ask you the same question.” He looked back to the lake. “Dreams don’t lie. “ Music, slow and soulful started playing. He held out a hand, “Dance with me.”

Dreams may not lie, but people still can. She directed the thought to him.

Not in dreams, he replied, standing.

She, too, stood and took his hand. He pulled her close and they swayed to the music. She twirled around a few times before he pulled her back again. Dreams don’t lie. “Why did you want to dance with me?”

“Because you’re here, and there is music.”

“Is that true? Completely?”

He smiled, “No, and I won’t tell you any other reason.” She leaned her head against his chest and found it extremely comfortable. If they weren’t enemies, the experience would have been completely enjoyable. “We aren’t enemies,” he said. “Do you really think we are?”

“It’s all we’ve ever been.” He spun her. “I’m Hermione Granger, muggleborn witch, you’re Draco Malfoy, pureblood wizard. If Shakespeare were still alive, he’d have a field day with us.”

“Field day?”

“Check your phrase book.”

He pulled her close and they started swaying again, “I’ll do that. But you didn’t answer me, are we enemies?”

“No.” She looked up. “We aren’t enemies anymore.”

“Good.” His lips brushed hers, and she deepened the kiss. Then she heard a pained groan.

“Help…me…” a voiced rasped. “Help…me…boy.”

Malfoy looked up, “Father?” Lucius Malfoy stood, hunched over, blood spilling out of several wounds.

“Help me.” Hermione’s eyes widened. She hadn’t seen Lucius in five years, since he died.

“I…I…” Malfoy was at a loss for words.

The older Malfoy, however, seemed to be gaining strength. “Get away from my…murderer…boy.”

Now Malfoy’s eyes widened. “Granger? What is he talking about?”

“Ask the mudblood, boy. She can’t lie. Do it.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped open. The dream, thankfully, was over. But what were its implications?