The Bodyguard

Alright you guys—here it is—Chapter 6. I know it's been about a week, and I apologize, but as my beta reader (LostEboni) can attest to, I haven't had the inclination or inspiration to write until now. Mucho gracias to everyone who has reviewed so far. I know a lot of you have hinted at a scene where `Leo' sees Hermione changing, but I added my own little twist on things. Hope you still enjoy it. Next chapter is already in the works, and will be up very soon—by Monday at the latest (hopefully).

Chapter 6

Hermione woke up precisely ten seconds before her alarm went off at eight thirty, as she did every morning. Without opening her eyes she reached up and lazily smacked the snooze button before sighing deeply and rolling over. Or, she tried  to roll over. There was a large, furry black lump by the name of Leo snuggled securely against her side, completely blocking any visible way of exiting the bed.

“Leo. Wake up. It's time to get up.” She ran her hand gently along his side, feeling the bumps where his ribs protruded slightly. She frowned. Leo was a large cat, standing easily at twenty four inches at the shoulder without the Reducio charm, but he still felt a little thin to her. She made a mental note to ask Max about his eating habits and activity, as well as any record he could obtain relating to his weight and diet.

At the moment, however, she was more concerned with getting the lazy bum outta bed so she could go shower and dress for work. Suppressing a grin, she ran her hand along his side again, gently tickling his ribs. “Leeeeooo,” she coaxed. “C'mon sleepy head. I've got to get up and go to work, which means you have to get up first.” He squirmed and his whiskers twitched, but his eyes remained firmly shut. Hermione bit her lip in laughter. “You big faker!” She accused. “Up!”

One slanted green eye opened to peer lazily at her before he yawned, revealing every one of his formidable pearly whites. Taking his time, he rolled to his belly and stretched luxuriously, his tail reaching out to thawp her softly in the face. Hermione sputtered. “Leo!” and unceremoniously shoved him off the bed. He landed on the floor with a muffled grunt, shooting her a disgruntled look. She glared right back. “Well, if you hadn't been such a  lazy prat…!” Huffing loudly, she left the bed and gathered her things for a shower before stomping out in a snit.

Harry grinned to himself. That was fun. With the rest of the weekend uneventfully quiet, he hadn't had much to do except prowl around the house and yard and follow Hermione. Now it was Monday, and his first official day on the job, so to speak. Hermione was returning to work, which meant he could do some scouting around and see what he could find out about Robert Crawford. He still hadn't received a reply from the Order on his first report, although he wasn't worried. Someone would get the information to him when he needed it.

From what he had learned from Lupin before coming on this assignment, the animal shelter Hermione worked at doubled as a holding pen of sorts for the store in Diagon Alley where she had bought Crookshanks, which was why she didn't question having such an unusually large animal around. Since it was summer the staff was small, although there were about fifteen to twenty employees assigned to different parts of the fifty acre property. All of the staff were either Squibs or had at least some magical knowledge so as to be able to efficiently deal with the variety of species that came through.

The fullness of his bladder reminded Harry that he had just woken up, and, as was habit, needed to take care of certain things before heading downstairs for breakfast. Still half-asleep, despite the trick he had played on Hermione, he padded out of her room next door to the bathroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it the rest of the way open, assuming that since he didn't hear the water running and the door was open that Hermione was downstairs already.

Well, you know what happens when you `assume' things…

He took two steps inside before he froze at the sight in front of him. Hermione stared back, eyes wide with shock, clutching her towel around her. The towel, Harry noted dazedly, which barely reached her thighs and revealed acres of gorgeous, gleaming wet skin as well as outlined a very nice curvy figure.

Hermione wasn't sure how to what to do. Sure, Leo was just an animal, but the way he was looking at her with those green, green, Harry-like eyes was unnerving. Making sure the towel was covering all necessary bits and pieces, she cleared her throat. His gaze shot from her bosom to her face, and she would've sworn that if he could've, he would've been blushing. Without waiting for her to say anything, he quickly backed out the door and took off downstairs.

When Hermione arrived down stairs she found Leo with his nose buried in a bowl full of food that looked suspiciously like what was on her own plate. “Um, Mum, what is—“

“Sorry dear—don't have time! We'll be home late this evening, since it's our bridge night with the Andersons. When you get home, start the oven at 450 and stick the roast in for forty-five minutes, there's a dear. Love you! Bye!” She was gone before her daughter could reply.

Defeated, Hermione shrugged and turned her attention to her breakfast, watching her companion out of the corner of her eye. He was deliberately ignoring her, she realized suddenly. He hadn't even acknowledged her presence when she walked into the kitchen, and now seemed to be extremely interested in whatever was in his food bowl. Could he really be that embarrassed about what happened upstairs? But that was an awfully advanced and complex thought concept for him to put together and understand, wasn't it? Questions buzzed around in her head as she watched him, until she finally huffed in annoyance. Standing up, she strode over to the sink and rinsed her plate off before squatting beside him.

“Leo.”

He glanced briefly at her and immediately looked away.

“Leo, I'm not mad at you. You didn't know I was still in the bathroom,” she said quietly. “No one was hurt. It was a simple mistake. It's okay.” She ran a hand coaxingly over his shoulder. “Now come on. We're going to be late for work.”

Harry remained still for a moment before following. She was right. He couldn't afford to be distracted now—not with Robert Crawford sniffing around Hermione and Draco Malfoy arriving in town within the next couple of days. Shaking his shaggy head, he padded after his friend.

***

The Shelter at which Hermione worked at was not the simple Muggle facility Harry had originally assumed when Remus had informed him that Hermione was working there. As did many of the businesses on the outskirts of town, this particular place catered to both Muggle and magical customers. Set on fifty acres just a couple of fields away from the haunted mansion on Majestic Hill (aka the Malfoy Mansion), to the normal (muggle) eye it consisted of a set of simple buildings; one for the small animal vet clinic, one for the kennels where cats and dogs without a home were housed until they were adopted, and then toward the back, Max's on site cottage. Beyond that, however, were more buildings, though these were built specifically for magical animals ranging in size from the dancing rats Harry had seen in the store where Hermione had bought Crookshanks, to Leo's size. There was also a magical veterinary clinic where the animals were checked out thoroughly before continuing on to the pet store.

Max had a long standing arrangement with the owner of the store; It was through her that Hermione had met Max. After observing how competent she was, Max had offered her a job. Harry wasn't quite sure what exactly Hermione's responsibilities were, but she spent most of her time between the Muggle animal shelter and the magical shelter, so he assumed she worked with the animals, soothing them so that they would act favorably toward visitors and possible adoptees.

As a magical animal, 'Leo' was banned to the magical part of the shelter, so anytime Hermione disappeared he fretted, and refused to let her out of his sight upon her return. She finally got frustrated and performed the 'Reducio' charm on him once more so that he could follow her around without undue notice.

Around lunchtime Max appeared. "Lass, you have a visitor," he called.

"Okay!" Hermione called back, giving the Kneazle kitten a last scratch under the chin before gently urging it back into its cage. As always, Leo padded at her heels. She had gotten so used to her black shadow that she hardly noticed he was there--until she saw her visitor. "That's twice in two days. To what do I owe this pleasure, Robert?"

Harry noted with glee that her voice wasn't nearly as warm and open as it had been the other day. She clearly hadn't forgiven Crawford for not warning her about his relatives.

"Can't I come see my favorite girl?" he replied lightly. "I would come and greet you properly, but I see your bodyguard there behind you." His eyes flicked to Leo and immediately dismissed him.

She didn't move. "Was there something you needed, Robert? I really need to get back to work."

"Well," he began, his tone slightly miffed at her lack of response, "I dropped by to let you know that my cousin arrived last night. Apparently the house is a mess--Merlin, those house elves need to be disciplined properly! What a disgrace!" Hermione stiffened with anger, but let him continue. "But the house party is moved up to tomorrow evening. It's to be a masquerade ball, so you will need a costume and a mask."

"Very well." Hermione replied calmly. "I'll be ready. Now, if you'll excuse me?"

"Of course. I must be off anyway--have a meeting in Diagon Alley." Completely unaware that she was bristling with anger, he stepped close enough to peck her carelessly on the forehead. "Don't work too hard darling. I'll see you tomorrow." He strolled back out the door.

As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione's rampage began.

"That arrogant, loathsome two-faced rat! He's no better than his bloody cousin.  I swear, I don't know what I was thinking--I actually liked the git! Disciplining house-elves indeed..." she remarked angrily as she stomped all the way back to the Muggle animal shelter, smoke streaming from her ears.

Leo couldn't have been more ecstatic.  Now that that prat was no longer in Hermione's good graces, it wouldn't be so difficult for her to take the news that he might be involved with Death Eaters.  Not to mention, this new turn of events would make the night of the ball much more interesting...

***

Robert knocked lightly on the door to his uncle's office before entering. "Uncle?"

Max quickly whirled around, his face twisted in an angry snarl, his robes flaring and blocking Robert's view of the fireplace. "I told you never to interrupt me when I'm speaking to--oh. Hello Robert. Back so soon?" His face smoothed into a fake smile.

"Er, yes. Just wanted to stop and see Hermione and let her know that the Malfoy party has been moved up to tomorrow night. Is everything alright with you? You seem a little...flushed."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Max answered hastily, not moving from in front of the fireplace. "So, if you were visiting with Hermione, then you must have met her four footed companion. What do you think of him?"

Robert shrugged carelessly. "I really don't see what you were so excited about Uncle. He's just an oversized, run-of-the-mill housecat. Yes, he seemed somewhat protective of Hermione, but that could just be some unknown instinct. If he has magical blood, it's practically diluted."

Fool! Max gritted his teeth. "Do not be deceived by appearances. That cat is much, much more than he seems. He must not be allowed in the Malfoy house tomorrow, or everything will be ruined."

Stifling a yawn, his nephew waved negligently. "It will be so, Uncle. Never fear. All will go on as planned." He sat up straight, eyes wide and staring at the wand an inch from his nose.

"There is too much at stake," Max hissed, "for you to mess it up now. Imperio!" He watched in satisfaction as Robert stiffened, a sudden blank look overtaking his features, before turning back to the fireplace and throwing a bit of powder into the flames.

Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the flames.

"Well?" He demanded impatiently.

"He is here, my lord--I have yet to give him his instructions," Max replied, practically groveling in the elegant Slytherin's presence.

"Very good." Malfoy waved a hand in front of Robert's eyes, his mouth curling into a cruel smirk when they focused on him. "Now, listen to me carefully, Crawford. Tomorrow night, you are to escort Miss Granger and her pet to the Malfoy Mansion. The girl is allowed entrance, but the animal is not. At precisely eleven fifty-eight, you are to lead her to the library, and tie and gag her securely. After that, you are to return to the ballroom and dance as if nothing was wrong. You are not to speak of this to anyone." He paused maliciously. "The next morning, you will find a large bottle of poison on your bedside table, and a suicide note. You will sign the note, and drink the poison--all of it. Do you understand?"

"No!" Max burst out.

"I understand," Robert replied tonelessly.

"Good." Lucius smiled. "Now get out."

After his nephew was gone, Max turned on Malfoy. "That wasn't part of the plan! He was just supposed to get the girl alone, and leave her in the library! You said nothing about him killing himself!"

"Yes, well..." Malfoy shrugged and tugged on his cuff links. "Can't have any loose ends running around, can we? Never fear, Max, you will get precisely what you deserve, as long as you continue to do our Master's bidding."

And with that unsettling promise, he stepped back into the fireplace, and was gone. Max collapsed into a chair and drew a shaking hand over his brow. The brief bit of power Lord Voldemort had given him to enable him to perform the Imperio spell had taken a lot of out him, but mostly he was quivering with the fear and realization that he had just made a terrible mistake.

Lucius Malfoy had approached him six months earlier with promises of things beyond his wildest dreams, if he would only join the Dark Side. Max had resisted, until Malfoy had found his weakness--his lack of power and hatred against the Order of the Phoenix. Although he was not a Squib, as so many people (including Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger) assumed, his grasp of magic was limited. He could have lived with that, had his wife and daughter not been caught in the crossfire of a Order of the Phoenix and Death Eater fight. Malfoy, with poisonously sweet words, had convinced him that his Lord would make everything right, and re-unite him with his family--if he would deliver the Granger girl to them. Stricken with grief and burning with a desire for vengeance, Max had agreed, but he had never thought it would mean sacrificing more of his family members...

***

"Hold still Leo!" Hermione scolded. He scrunched his nose up in distaste, and she waggled her finger at him. "If you want to come with me tonight, you need to cooperate. I'm almost done." She carefully stroked a line of gold over each eye, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Perfect."

Suspiciously, he padded over to her closet mirror to see her handiwork. Slanted green eyes stared back at him, emphasized by the bold strokes of gold over each brow and the matching strips down his forehead and over his nose. Two more lines slashed across each cheekbone. He shook himself, suppressing the need to scratch at the brightly jeweled gold collar around his neck, which was actually his old, comfortable leather one.

"The gold stripes don't mean anything," Hermione explained, noticing him looking at his reflection. She had long since gotten over her embarrassment of explaining things to her four-footed companion. "They just make you look very fierce and exotic, which goes along nicely with my costume."

She placed the black wig upon her head and turned to him. "There. No one would guess plain, bookworm, Hermione Granger would ever be under this getup, would they?"

Harry stared at her. Long black hair was pinned up into an elaborate cornet, hiding her severely braided bushy brown hair. A delicate gold net, inlaid with jewels, overlaid the style. Her gown and robes were deep purple, but studded with the same jewels as those that twinkled in her hair. Her face was pale, her makeup dramatic.

The outfit was elaborately sensual, richly snobbish...and completely not Hermione. Harry didn't like it, not one bit. Hermione saw his reaction and chuckled softly.

"Relax. This is all just for show. Draco Malfoy and his friends aren't impressed by anything else." Smoothing out her robes, she rose gracefully as the doorbell sounded downstairs. "That will be Robert. Come Leo--our public awaits."

Bemused, Leo waited until she had affixed the matching jeweled leash to his collar before following her sedately down the stairs. He waited a few feet away as she opened the door to reveal Robert, dashing in a black tux with matching robes and mask.

"Don't you look absolutely breathtaking," he greeted her, leaning down to kiss the air beside her cheek. "And you are supposed to be..."

"The sorceress Morgana--and her familiar, of course." She gestured at Leo, watching them with arrogant calm. "Shall we?"

Caught by surprise at her serene attitude, when he was expecting the blushing, eager to please young girl he usually encountered, Robert stuttered. "Uh, yes, of course." He fumbled with her cloak and his, before opening the door and gesturing. "After you, m'lady."

Smiling to herself, Hermione stepped out into the night with Leo in her wake. He resisted the urge to take a bite out of Robert's leg, instead settling for growling low in his chest and making the wizard step back a pace. Earlier that evening while Hermione was in the shower, Emma had received a letter for Harry from Remus Lupin, stating that no evidence was to be found proving that Robert was affiliated with the Dark Side. As such, without such proof Harry could do nothing, and was under explicit orders not to make a move against Crawford--no matter how personally tempting it might be. Harry was also under orders not to do his best not to do anything to attract notice at the Malfoy party, just observe and report back as soon as possible. When he had read that, Harry had snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew as well as Lupin that the order was fruitless, but Lupin had had to write it to cover his own ass. Gotta love politics.

Emma and Daniel were out for the evening, at Hermione's insistence, so it was a simple matter of taking hold of the invitation, which doubled as a Portkey, and being transported to the landing spot. Ignoring the exclamations of surprise and awe as they spotted Leo, they joined the elegantly dressed crowd of witches and wizards making their way up the steps of the coldly impressive mansion. Robert handed the wizard at the door his invitation and stepped inside, but Hermione was stopped at the door. "I'm sorry Miss, but your -companion-can not come inside."

She turned a cool gaze on him, and arched one brow in such a blatant imitation of their host that Leo sneeze-laughed. "Excuse me?"

The man quivered, but stood firm. "He does not have an invitation, miss, and we do not have the proper accommodations for him."

 Hermione practically vibrated with anger, which only increased when Robert called, "I'll see you inside darling," and disappeared inside.

"I insist that he--"

"Is there a problem here?" The arrogant, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy interrupted whatever scathing retort she had been about to make.

Hermione froze at the sound of that dreaded drawl. Leo had no such restrictions. Moving protectively in front of Hermione, he growled warningly, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.

"Leo!" She hissed, nerves making her voice breathy and high. Pasting a false smile on her face, she turned to the Slytherin. "Hello, Draco." She braced herself for his reaction, but the lights from inside threw her face into the shadows so that he couldn't recognize her.

"Hello sweetheart," he replied, not moving from his place on the steps above her. "What seems to be the problem?"

She drew herself up, remembering her role. "It seems my guest here isn't allowed entrance. I don't understand why--he's perfectly well mannered..." she shot a glare at the cat and stepped warningly on his toes when the rumbling continued. Leo ignored her, intent on the silver-haired young man regarding him warily.

Cool grey eyes met green; a predator recognizing another of its kind. There was no way that Draco would allow another arrogant, strong male like this into his domain.

"I'm sure he is," he soothed, all the while wondering who the hell this young woman was. "However, some of my guests are horribly allergic to cat hair. Show them a picture of a cat and they start sneezing. It's horrible. You wouldn't want me to put them through that, would you?" he smiled charmingly.

Caught in such a neat little trap, there was no polite way for Hermione to refuse. Forcing her face to remain emotionless, she unclipped the leash from Leo's collar. "It's alright, Leo. I'll be back out in a couple of hours. Go on, now."

"He'll be fine, roaming around here--there are plenty of rabbits and things in the woods for him to amuse himself with." Draco assured her, taking her by the arm. "Come--allow me to introduce you to everyone."

Harry watched helplessly as Malfoy drew Hermione away, before a sudden mischievous thought occurred to him. Smirking to himself, he set off back down the stairs and over the manicured back lawns of the Malfoy property, ducking into the woods nearby.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen a brief flash before a young man with messy black hair and startling green eyes appeared where the forest lined the driveway. Harry waited, cat-quiet, for his prey--a lone man strolling up to the door, debonair in his formal robes, his invitation and mask tucked carelessly in one pocket. Just as he passed, Harry pounced, clapping one hand over his mouth and dragging him into the darkness.

A few minutes later, he reemerged, dressed in the hapless wizard's clothes. It was a dangerous thing, taking a risk of being discovered like this, but Harry prayed it would be worth it. The mask covered his forehead, obscuring his famous scar, so the only feature that was recognizable were his eyes. He was banking on the assumption that no Slytherin other than Voldemort had ever paid close enough attention to his eyes to recognize them without his trademark glasses.

Hermione would see right through him in a second, but he was anticipating that and had plans to counteract her response...

It was amazing, how easy it was to get in undetected. The wizard taking invitations glanced at his cursorily, before waving him through. Harry followed the crowd, doing his best to act as if he belonged there. He instantly spotted Hermione, standing at the far side of the room, and made his way over, pausing occasionally to exchange air kisses and greetings. It didn't matter that no one recognized him; breeding prevented them from admitting such a faux pas, so he was able to weave his way to her side without any trouble.

She was standing alone, watching the dancing couples with a slightly wistful expression on her face. Taking a deep breath, he touched her gently on the shoulder.

"There you are!"

Hermione turned in surprise to see..."Harry?" She gasped, and instinctively threw her arms around him. "What are you doing here?" She pulled back to glare at him. "How--why--Har---mmmph!"

Harry covered her mouth with his, effectively cutting off all lectures and questions. After a moment, he lifted his head to smile breathlessly into her eyes, which were still wide with shock--and something else. "Don't say anything yet," he whispered. "Just play along." In a louder tone, he proclaimed, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was a prat. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I...um..."

"She meant nothing to me, you know that. I was just jealous of this Crawford fellow you were gushing over so much. You're the only one for me." He kissed the back of her hand.

"Hermione. Aren't you going to introduce me to your--friend?" Robert had reappeared as if by magic, no doubt to re-secure his claim on his 'date'.

Hermione stifled a groan. Here we go again. Harry had a LOT of explaining to do. "Um, Robert Crawford, this is--"

"Tom. Tom Cruise," Harry supplied helpfully.

"Tom," she continued through gritted teeth, "this is my friend Robert Crawford."

"Good to meet you at last, Roger," Harry said cheerfully. "You'll have to excuse us--I just got in from America, and had to come see my fiancé here."

"Fiancé?" Crawford repeated.

Hermione stopped one of the footmen and took a glass of champagne, swallowing half the contents in a single gulp.

"Yes--didn't 'Mione tell you? I'm hurt, darling," Harry said. "Anyway, we had a little tiff, and I stormed off to the States before I realized what an idiot I am and came rushing back."

"Hermione?" Robert frowned, turning to her. "Is this true?"

She glanced at Harry, silently pleading for her to go along with the charade. In any other situation she might have blown his cover, just because she was so riled up she could hardly breathe, but since both of their lives were at stake and she wanted him to live long enough for her to get some answers before she killed him, she pasted a sorrowful expression on her face and replied, "I'm sorry Robert. I would have told you earlier, but I thought things were over between us. You understand, don't you?"

Taken aback, clearly wanting to rage at her but not wanting to cause a scene, he drew away stiffly. "I see. Very well. So be it, Hermione. Have a nice life!" He stormed off into the crowd.

As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned on Harry. "You have a LOT of explaining to do Potter. What the bloody hell are you doing here?"