Harry Potter A Deception of Love

**Chapter One: Special Secrets**

He wasn't sure when it happened, or even how it had come to pass. All he knew, all he had ever known was that regardless of what he told himself she was the center of everything. No matter how hard he tried to turn away, to resist her and the pull she had over him there was nothing for it. Each day he would find himself staring out a window during class, wondering what she might be doing right then and there, or, dare he have a class with her, stare at her and the strange way she stuck her tongue out between her lips when she was concentrating so hard, or the way her hair would get progressively more frizzy as the fumes from her potion rose around her.

None of these things he could ever point out to anyone. She was off-limits, out of his league, although he had to pretend that she was far from out of his. Their worlds were as different from each other as could be, yet he couldn't shake her, or her book-worm ways from his mind. Once she had caught him staring at her, watching her while she diligently cut up roots for the potion they were working on. At first her eyebrows came together in a look that almost made him laugh, she seemed both confused and angry all at once, yet the look passed when he didn't turn his eyes away from her and they rose steadily higher until she finally mouthed "What do you want?" and he simply shook his head, smirked and looked away. The rest of the period he found her glancing at him periodically, a questioning look on her face, but he restrained from staring at her again that day, and nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Maybe it was that day that changed all the rest of their days; perhaps even changed their various fates. That was fourth year, the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. With no Quidditch to keep him occupied, and far away from Pansy Parkinson, he devoted an abnormal amount of time in the library, pouring over books and doing more homework than he had ever completed in his life before. It was the best place to find her, Granger, with her nose pressed between the pages of a book, writing down notes, chewing on her lip when she was searching for something particularly evasive. He should find her repulsive, he was a Malfoy after all, but he couldn't. Several times they would catch each other's eye, a tentative smile at first that became more and more coy as they days and weeks dragged on.

Unfortunately, that year he wasn't the only one to have his eyes set on the bookish Gryffindor. Krum had been reeled in by her, however unlikely that might seem, and often spent many days in the library, a flock of irritating girls chattering in the background and all trying to get Krum's attention. He had eyes for no one but Granger, a fact that set Malfoy's stomach to churning with something he could only coin as jealousy. Krum asked her to the Yule Ball before anyone else had a chance, not that Malfoy could, of course, he would be taking Parkinson whether he wanted too or not; taking Granger was never an option, not then when so much was happening, so many dark things going on. No, he would take the simpering idiot Parkinson but he would keep a close eye on Krum and Granger.

The year dragged on and it was apparent that nothing would happen between Krum and Granger, for which Malfoy was quite pleased. He hadn't even needed to get in the middle of it, she was just not that interested when her best friend, Potter, was risking his life with each new challenge that the competitors were asked to fulfill. So, while she and her duo of morons accompanied her to the library on occasion, he mostly had her to himself. They would sit near each other, though never speaking, only ever looking. It was almost as if they were afraid that by speaking something might shatter, a moment that they alone could share in this musty place filled with books thousands of years old, holding secrets and magic that made the whole room feel alive.

The drew to a close, the Dark Lord had come back from the brink of death to torture again. What this meant for the Malfoy's, he had no idea and was, quite frankly, terrified of finding out. Potter had nearly been killed, Diggory had been, half the school believed him the others were other unsure or in flat denial. Malfoy knew the truth, he believed it when Potter said he was back, that more death was coming, more pain and suffering for innocent people and more families would be torn apart because of the Dark Lord and his followers.

On the day before they were meant to leave for the summer holidays, Malfoy made his way to the library, not really thinking of where he was headed, just letting his feet guide him where ever they might wish to go. When he pushed open the doors and took in the scents, sounds and sights of the library his eyes filled with tears and his heart seemed to drop into his stomach. He walked to the table he always used, expecting to find it empty, figuring she would be with her best friend, wondering what they were going to do, the next steps, how to fix everything; but there she was, no books open in front of her, no quill or parchment, just sitting, waiting. He dropped into the chair next to her, not looking at her, she leaned her shoulder gently against his and the tears fell from his eyes. The words that left his lips were the first words they had ever exchanged in this private place of theirs, "I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly it was like the turning of a page.

Gently she took his hand in hers, wrapping her fingers securely around the paleness of his hand and squeezed it in a comforting way. She rested her head against his shoulder and whispered back to him, soft as a breeze, "This isn't your fault. What could you have done?" And suddenly it was like something was lifted from him. He had felt that if he had done something, said something that maybe someone could stop this before it happened. But she was right, what could he have done? He couldn't have stopped the impersonator from taking the potion, he couldn't have even known that he wasn't who he said he was, he knew the Dark Lord was getting stronger, but so did Snape, and he couldn't do anything either. She was right.

"Thank you." Was all that he could reply before he turned in his chair, wrapped his arms around her small shoulders and hugged her to him. At first she seemed to startled to respond, then she was wrapping her arms around him, her fingers gripping the back of his uniform like she wouldn't, or couldn't let him go. Soon, both of them were crying silent tears, neither willing to let go until they had no other choice. When they finally pulled apart she put her hands on either side of his face, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, she took a breath to steady herself, then stood up.

Before she walked away, she looked down at him, a small smile on her lips, "No matter what happens, you are safe here." She touched the table, then she touched the spot on her chest over her heart. All Malfoy could do was watch her walk away from him and wonder if he would ever be able to enjoy another moment like that again with her, or anyone else ever again. He knew, from that moment, from the moment she rested her head on his shoulder, embraced him like she cared about him, that he was gone, and there was no bringing him back. Nothing would ever be the same again, and it had happened without either of them ever saying a word until the days seemed darker, and their nights colder, wilder and more unsafe than ever before. Everything was different now, including the way he saw the world.

There was a subtle shift in their behavior towards each other from that day forward. Hermione never defended Draco outwardly to Harry and Ron, but she refused to take part in their schemes against him. The summer before the start of their fifth year was dark, dangerous and full of lies and disbelief. So many in the wizarding world were completely full of denial, so much so they were willing to believe that Harry Potter would make up a story of Voldemort's return to life; to a body that had wounded him, threatened him and summoned his followers, Death Eater's, to him in the graveyard his father was buried in. It was a terrifying thought, no doubt, but one that should have been faced immediately, rather than denied by even the Minister of Magic himself. Harry faced a trial for defending himself, and his cousin, against two rogue dementors from Azkaban prison, and no one was certain what his punishment would be. The Order of the Phoenix had been recalled together, with a few new additions to the team, in order to start plans to fight against You-Know-Who and his troops, though all under the cover of secrecy in the home of Sirius Black, still wanted for a crime he had never committed, although no one believed him or his story.

As the summer drew to a close and Harry had been cleared of all charges against him, however much it may have pained the Minister to do so, they packed their trunks with all of their things, gathered pets, quills, ink pots, parchment rolls and socks and headed off to Hogwarts. A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be awaiting them this year, though no one had any idea who it might be as they boarded the train. Hermione and Ron had been chosen to be Prefects this year, something Hermione was quite pleased with, though neither Ron nor anyone else was all that surprised by this bit of news, however this meant they had to patrol the corridors, visit the prefects carriage for a quick meeting to discuss the rules and regulations of being a prefect as well as some other perks that came along. So with many promises of quick returns they headed off for the carriage.

Hermione was peering over heads that were milling through the carriages, trying to find their friends, greeting one another after a long summer holiday apart, searching for a carriage that contained Slytherins, one specifically. She was searching for his blond head when a hand grabbed hers from behind, squeezing ever so gently and not saying a word. She didn't need to turn around and see his face to know that it was him, a smile spread on her lips as she let herself drift back into the crowd for a moment, Draco's hand still holding hers and guiding her into what she supposed must be an empty carriage. When she slipped inside, she shut the door and pulled the curtains shut, turning around to face him she saw that he too was wearing a prefect's badge, though she was supremely unsurprised that Snape would make him one too. Before she could really take him in, his arms were around her, practically crushing her into him, one of his hands was on the back of her head, fingers locked in her frizzy locks, the other securely wrapped around her waist, holding her against him.

She laughed softly, trying to move her arms to return his hug, but he simply held her tighter. It was then that she became slightly afraid, when she noticed that he had grown considerably over the holiday and suddenly her head was pressed into his chest, rather than easily resting on his shoulder while she stood, he seemed slightly thinner, though from what cause she couldn't be sure. Something in the nature of his embrace frightened her, chilled her to the core of her being, and not for herself, but for him. Finally he pulled back, though he held onto her arms, almost too tightly, his fingers curled around her upper arms. His eyes raked her from top to bottom, resting back on her face when his examination of her was through. Draco's hands dropped from her arms and he collapsed into a seat, Hermione, still bewildered by the entire situation sat down beside him, rested a hand on his leg and frowned, peering into his face.

"What in the world is wrong, Draco? I realize it's been a whole summer now, but nothing has happened, nothing has changed." She spoke softly, like someone was listening right outside, as though the walls might be listening and whispering their secrets for anyone to hear. His eyebrows contracted as he looked to her, his head hanging but tilted to the side. His look was both hard and terrified, yet soft and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Everything has changed, Hermione, everything. He is back, you know it, I know it, and my father certainly knows it. I was just afraid…" His voice trailed off as he looked away from her, choking on something he was too afraid to say.

"Afraid of what? That I would have changed my mind about us, about whatever this might be? Draco, you are the product of an unfortunate family, that doesn't make you a bad person, too. You don't have to follow the path your father took, you can, and are, your own person. You can be that person. So yes, life has changed, but I have not." She took one of his hands in her own, his fists were clenched and she saw his jaw had tightened, though she couldn't tell if he was mad at her, or trying to hold back tears. She smoothed his fingers out and placed her own through the spots between his, when he clasped her hand she decided he wasn't angry, but scared and upset.

After a minute of silence he turned his head back towards her, his eyes meeting her own though they were full of sorrow and a hint of fear. "What if I haven't got a choice, Hermione? What if the only choice I have is to join the bloody Death Eaters and become one of them? After everything you have showed me I would feel like I was betraying you somehow, but what if there is no other way to live. How can I fight against myself, against my own father and mother when they might need me?" He got up, paced to the end of their small carriage and slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. "It is all I have ever known, hate and prejudice. All they ever raised me on, and all they ever taught me was how to hate Muggles and Muggle-borns, how to swindle and lie my way through any situation. How do you just change fifteen years of up-bringing?"

Standing up, Hermione crossed to him, wrapped her arms around his torso and held him as tightly as she could. Quietly she whispered into his chest, "By being the person you _want_ to be, not the person they have tried to _make_ you be. You aren't those things, you aren't hateful or prejudiced, I have seen it with my own eyes. So you don't change anything, you learn to adapt and grow. I refuse to believe that you have swallowed all the rubbish they have thrown at you over the years. You chose to believe it to appease your father, but that doesn't make it honest." Hermione tilted her head back, looking up at him she gave him a small smile, he just looked down at her as though she had grown an extra head before he abruptly laughed. He wrapped his arms back around her and held her tight, he kissed the top of her head and then pushed her back a bit.

"You're barking, Hermione, but you have a point. I just don't know if, on my own, I am strong enough to defy them. I don't know what might be at stake and, to be quite honest I'm afraid. But you're right, and I know you're right. I hate that you always are. We should hurry off, though, they will be missing us in the prefects carriage." Then he did something Hermione didn't see coming, something she never could have, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently against her own, her eyes opened wide for a moment before she returned his careful kiss.

Gently she opened the door, and without looking back slipped in among the press of students that filled the lanes, a bit later Draco too exited, though no one seemed to even realize they had come from the same room. When he sat down next to his fellow prefect, the others stared at him, some with loathing, others condescendingly, but only one smiled at him and hers was the only face that mattered to him. He smiled back, though he tried to make it look more like his usual smirk as he glanced around the room, settling back into his seat he focused on the words the Head Boy and Girl were saying, though his eyes kept drifting over to Hermione, and as often as not she would look over at him as soon as his eyes landed on her, she would smile ever so faintly before turning her attention back, paying very studious and unsurprising attention to every single word they spoke.

After the meeting, the prefects all filed out to monitor the halls, Ron was heading out with Hermione, the two of them chatting about who had been made prefects as they left. "Can't believe they made that git Malfoy a prefect! I mean, are they mental or what? He is going to abuse that power and probably torture as many first years as he can within minutes of being back." Hermione rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, Draco stepped in, eyeing Ron with contempt.

"And here I was wondering why they made the Weasley prat a prefect, himself. It certainly wasn't his brains because we all know he lacks that. Potter already too famous, couldn't have him roaming the halls, he might get mobbed by fans wanting his autograph." Draco sneered at the pair of them, "Though it's absolutely no surprise that the know-it-all bookworm was made prefect. Worthless, really."

Hermione scowled at him, noting the redness of Ron's ears she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Draco, "You are half the man that Ron is, Malfoy. At least he never had to buy his way into anything, Harry either. Now if you don't mind, we have things we're meant to be doing. Sod off." With that she stalked down the corridor, Ron fuming beside her, muttering curses under his breath.

"The things I'd like to do to that smarmy little git. I swear if I could get my hands on him…"

"Get your hands on who, exactly, my dearest little brother?" Fred threw an arm around Ron's shoulders, George on the other side of Hermione tossed his arm around her as they marched down towards the end of the train. Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

"Draco Malfoy happens to be a prefect this year. While I agree that he will probably make a mockery of his position we should probably give him some benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he will take his position seriously." Ron stared at her with his mouth gaping open before her shook his head and said slowly, like he was talking to someone slightly unstable.

"Hermione, this is _Malfoy_ we are talking about here. If he was a decent person… Well he wouldn't be in Slytherin for one thing, and for another he wouldn't have tormented us for, how long now? Five years? Oh yeah, right. He hates us, remember? And everyone who isn't, well, him." Hermione glared at Ron.

"It's exactly that kind of thinking that has made Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other for so long. Just because someone is in Slytherin doesn't make them automatically an evil, You-Know-Who loving idiot, Ronald." Hermione shrugged out from under George's arm and stalked away in the opposite direction, all three Weasley brother's staring at her as if she had gone completely mental.

Hermione spent the remainder of the train ride in a compartment with people she found completely absurd, but better than listening to another Malfoy bashing session when Ron got back to the carriage that Harry was in. As the train rolled to a stop at Hogsmeade station, Hermione got up and walked out, part of her duties required she make sure everyone was off the train and all the first years were directed to the right place, not letting anyone get left behind. Draco stood near hear, shoving the first years around, but not very roughly, mostly just trying to get them through the crowed of older and bigger students. Hermione laughed when one first year was cowering and Draco grabbed him by the back of the robes and shuffled him off in the direction of Grubbly-Plank and the boats the first years always rode on their first journey to Hogwarts.

It had been a long day, and was only bound to get longer, though Hermione, nor anyone else, knew just what was in store for them when they reached the feast in the Great Hall. She lingered behind to wait for Draco, purposely allowing the rest of the prefects, especially Ron who she still was refusing to speak to, to get ahead of them quite a ways. They sat in the very last carriage together and talked of nothing terribly important until they reached the castle doors, a final quick look, a gentle squeeze of the hand and Draco was bounding down the short steps and up into the castle. Hermione watched him go and smiled to herself, knowing there was a secret between them that only they could know.

For now.

xx

**Author's Note: **I obviously don't own any of the characters, places, titles or anything else pertaining to the lovely world of Harry Potter, I do stake a claim in the plot however. I have written several stories before under a different username and I hope that you find these just as satisfying as the previous. Any feedback, notes, tips, hate whatever is always taken in kind and appreciated; though I of course hope you love my stories I realize this is not always possible. I would love to say I am going to post weekly, but I will certainly make the effort to post twice a month. Read, enjoy, review, love.


End file.
