Harry Potter 1. Intempestivum Victa

**TVD fans, I ****_have_**** written the first chapter for the Elijah/Evangeline sequel, but I need to outline the rest of the story before I start posting. Love you all!**

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.**

**A Changeling in Time**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Intempestivum Victa**

Draco and Hermione argued loudly outside the Great Hall. Every student had been given the option of repeating their final year at Hogwarts, due to Voldemort's control over the school the year prior, but since the first day of classes Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger hadn't been able to keep from bickering over the most trivial of matters.

"You both should really work this out," Luna sighed dreamily, "Everyone knows unresolved arguments can lead to a bad case of Negpins."

"Negpins?" Draco rolled his eyes and spat. "I swear, Lovegood, you're the most illogical, ridiculous…"

"Save it, Draco," Hermione seethed.

"No need to bite my head off, Granger," backed away with a smirk. "War's over, you know. Not that you'd need to worry about Lovegood; She is _pureblood_ after all."

"As if that still matters," Hermione scoffed, brown eyes shimmering beneath the torches lining the hall. "Haven't you learned by now, Draco? 'We are all equal in the presence of death.'"

Draco grinned deviously. "Well said, Granger, but of course you know Publilius Syrus was a wizard."

"He was not," Hermione's mouth fell open in dismay. "That's impossible."

"I know my wizard history," Draco smirked, "but here's one you might know. 'Equality... is the result of human organization. We are not born equal.'"

"How do you know that quote?" Hermione tilted her head in confusion. "Arendt was a muggle."

Draco simply smiled. "Seven years now, we've been in school together, Granger. You ought to have seen me in the library at least few times."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Of course she'd seen him in the library. He was probably the most studious witch or wizard in her year, apart from herself. "But studying muggle philosophy? It's absurd. You would never…"

"The best way to beat an enemy is to understand them, Granger," he lowered his voice so Luna couldn't hear. "Certainly you know that."

Hermione could think of no witty reply as Draco stalked away.

"So strange," Luna sighed again. "You two have so much in common."

"What?" Hermione's voice rose so quickly it could have hit the ceiling. Never in all her years at Hogwarts had she felt so insulted. "That's totally absurd."

"But it isn't, you know. You're both really quite clever and intelligent." Luna gazed at the ceiling with peculiar interest. "If you weren't the muggle born best friend of Harry Potter and he wasn't the child prodigy of a Death Eater I bet the two of you would have sought each other out eventually."

"Luna, that's completely and utterly preposterous," Hermione cringed at the thought of her _seeking Draco out _and left Luna alone in the corridor. "The nerve of some people."

Luna smiled impishly to herself. "You'll see." Those Negpins always found their way out eventually.

* * *

Two weeks later Luna sat in a seemingly empty potions classroom, concocting a rather complex potion. She didn't notice the teacher exit his office, approaching her silently.

"And just what is this you're working on, Miss Lovegood?" Professor Slughorn hovered staunchly behind the witch as she dreamily added dandelion root to her cauldron.

"Oh, hello Professor," Luna beamed at him. "I'm creating a philtre."

Slughorn narrowed his eyes. "Dandelion root, haliwinkles, wartcap powder, fluxweed? Miss Lovegood, these are most peculiar ingredients."

"It's a family concoction," Luna's vague smile caused the professor to shift uneasily. "But don't worry, Professor. I'll be finished before your first class tomorrow. Sooner if I find all the ingredients."

"Tomorrow?" Slughorn gasped. "Miss Lovegood, I will not tolerate students brewing potentially dangerous and unknown potions in this class."

"It's not dangerous in the slightest," Luna breathed blithely. "I haven't even added the Nargle wings yet."

"Nargle wings?" The Professor was truly stumped now. "Miss Lovegood, I must insist you put this potion out of your mind and out of my classroom at once."

But before he could press the matter, Ginny Weasley came gliding into the room. "Professor. It's Hermione and Draco– again."

"Those two again?" His face darkened a shade and stomped furiously toward the door. "Miss Lovegood, I expect you out of this classroom in the next ten minutes. Do you understand?"

He was already out the door before he could hear her reply. "Of course, Professor. I have nearly everything I need." Her large eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Hermione, let it go." Ron rolled his eyes. "Who cares if he was a wizard? It was centuries ago."

"This has nothing to do with you, Ron." Hermione fumed. "This is about finding out who's right."

"It's me, Granger," Malfoy bit back a grin. "Just you wait and see."

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. You are once again causing a disturbance in corridors. I've warned you time and time again. Detention in my office. Right now, let's go."

"What?" Draco's face fell. "Just because little miss know-it-all can't accept when she's wrong?"

"Professor, this is ridiculous." Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"Ridiculous, Miss Granger, is that I haven't had a moment's peace since you two began this argument two weeks ago."

The two were ushered into the Potions classroom, and Luna's eyes widened, a suspicious smile forming on her lips.

"Miss Lovegood, did I not tell you to dispose of this mess?" Slughorn had had more than enough of these students antics for one evening.

"Of course, Professor, but I still have five minutes." She stirred her potion methodically. Then curiously, she rose and approached Hermione and Draco. "I just have two more ingredients." Without warning, she plucked a hair from each of their heads and scurried back to her cauldron.

"Ouch," Hermione screeched. "What was that for?"

"You'll see," Luna shrugged her shoulders as she dropped the hairs into her potion. "All that's left is the incantation." Professor Slughorn's eyes narrowed as Luna lifted her wand and calmly uttered, "Intempestivum Victa." The brew began to glitter and sparkle a light yellow within the cauldron.

"No," Recognition dawned on the professor's face. "That potion was banned in the seventeenth century."

"Oh?" Luna tilted her head innocently, deftly uncapping a large vial. "It was in my mother's spell book. I never realized…"

"What potion?" Draco suddenly grasped that he might be in danger, and he didn't like it one bit. "Professor, what is that potion for?"

Hermione interrupted before the professor could explain. "It's an empathy philtre," she turned toward Luna, voice rising, "but why did you take our hair?"

"That's why it's banned," Slughorn shouted. "Give it here at once, Miss Lovegood."

Luna smiled lightly at the window, then slowly pulled the vial from her pocket. "Oh well. I'll just be off then." Without bothering to pack her things she skipped merrily out of the classroom and off to the Ravenclaw tower.

Draco strode cautiously to the cauldron. "What is this anyway?"

"Don't touch it," Professor Slughorn practically screamed. "By adding your hairs and, if I'm not mistaken, wings of a fairy chrysalis, Miss Lovegood has turned a perfectly harmless empathy potion into an extremely dangerous time-warping elixir."

Draco immediately backed away, accidentally bumping into Hermione.

"Ouch, that's my foot, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped aside wordlessly.

"But Professor, what could possibly make it so dangerous?" Hermione pressed her lips together in dissatisfaction.

"The NARGLES," he boomed.

Hermione frowned, "Nargles– You've got to be joking."

Ignoring the girl's cheeky remark, Professor Slughorn turned to the cauldron, pointed his wand and bellowed, "EVANESCO," causing the bubbling liquid to vanish. Then he held up the vial Luna had surrendered, preparing to do the same when he paused suddenly.

Draco folded his arms impatiently. "What is it now?" He was ready to be done with all this.

"This is not Intempestivum Victa potion." His eyes narrowed, and he hurriedly uncorked the vial and took a light whiff.

"Then what is it?" Hermione grew alarmed.

The professor's face grew taut. "Pumpkin Juice."

* * *

An hour later Draco and Hermione were hunched over in a wide closet, cataloging a careful inventory of ingredients for their detention.

"Servant stuff," Draco muttered softly to himself.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned that Luna still has the vial of potion?" Hermione creased her eyebrows.

"Of course not, Granger. Professor Slughorn will find her," he scoffed lightly, though Hermione wasn't entirely convinced by his somewhat shaky tone.

Suddenly a willowy voice echoed from outside the closet.

"_Luna," _Hermione mouthed to Draco, and his eyes narrowed. Neither of them moved a muscle as Luna's voice grew louder, then softer, then louder again:

_The lovely lady Lutrinae_  
_Went to the Hidden Forest_  
_She found her way up to the gate_  
_Of him whose heart was poorest_

_With time and magic she soon found_  
_His heart was ne'er a stranger_  
_To her ways, and she soon sought_  
_The love of dragon granger_

"The Dragon Farmer," Draco scoffed to himself. "Always hated that rhyme."

Hermione, however, frowned for several seconds. Something felt very off-putting about the way Luna sang. It felt too familiar. But Luna's voice faded off into the distance until nothing more was heard.

After several more minutes of silence, Hermione gingerly opened the door to peek into the classroom. When it became clear that no one else was there she began to tiptoe across the front the room.

"Out of my way, Granger." Malfoy attempted to shove past her hurriedly. He would hide in the Slytherin tower until Luna was dealt with.

"Draco, wait!" Hermione screamed, reaching for the Slytherin's robes.

Neither of them could have expected what happened next.

Draco slipped on a glittering liquid that lay puddled in front of the professor's desk. Immediately, he reached for Hermione's arm to pull himself up.

"What have you done?" Hermione backed away in horror as the glimmering liquid soaked into their skin.

"Me?" Malfoy was on his feet and full of rage.

"Don't you realize what this is?" Her voice squeaked.

Draco's eyes shifted from anger to terror in the blink of an eye. "No. It's not possible," he roared.

Suddenly Professor Slughorn burst into the room. "What's going on here?" But just as Hermione and Draco turned to face the professor they dissolved into the air without a trace.

* * *

**September 19th, 1979**

Hugo Granger held his wife's hand as she screamed with labor pains. "Don't worry, Miranda. She'll be out soon."

The doctor entered the room fifteen minutes later. _It was time_. Thirty more minutes, and the child was nearly out.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise," the doctor shook his head.

"Is something wrong with her?" Miranda gasped between breaths.

"Not at all, but _she_ is actually a _he._"

"What?" Miranda and Hugo exclaimed in unison.

"Sonograms aren't always accurate," the doctor shook his head, extracting the child and handing him to the nurse to be weighed and cleaned. "It happens more often than you think."

"Wow," Hugo sat beside his wife in shock. "A boy."

"I just had the strangest feeling, Hugo," Miranda clasped her husband's hand, "of what his name should be."

"That's great, honey, what is it?"

A peculiar smile crossed her lips as she turned to speak. "Draco."

* * *

**Even though I did take Latin in school I didn't bother conjugating anything properly. Sorry if you're picky like that. But according to the internet (lol), 'Intempestivus' means 'understanding' and 'victus' means 'manner of life'. So there you go. And nargles are unhatched fairy spawn in my world. **

**Other Disclaimer: I may or may not have taken Hermione's parent's names from a different fanfiction. If someone knows which one please let me know. I think they're great name choices.**


	2. Year Zero

**Disclaimer: Though I have used some lines from the story in this chapter they are merely to aid in the continuity of the plot. I own nothing here. Incidentally, I also do not own 'Year Zero' either. It's a song by 30 Seconds to Mars, and I love it.**

_Be a hero  
Kill your ego  
It doesn't matter it's all just a pack of lies  
Build a new base  
Steal a new face  
It doesn't matter it's all just to save you_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Year Zero**

**June 5th, 1980**

"That's impossible," Lucius Malfoy spat at the two healers. "I was supposed to have a son."

"She's perfectly healthy." The Healer in charge of Narcissa's delivery attempted to reassure the man.

"A girl," Lucius continued to sneer to himself. This was all wrong. He was meant to have a son to carry on the family name, not a daughter to be offered to the most eligible of a lesser line. Reluctantly he made his way into the stoic recovery room.

Narcissa however, seemed perfectly content as she held the girl tenderly in her arms. "She's got Bella's hair already," she remarked at the wild brown tangles of hair wisping every which way.

"Your dear sister's hair is hardly a praiseworthy trait, Narcissa," Lucius eyed her sternly, "but no matter. It will be dealt with in time."

His wife pouted slightly, but softened after a moment. "Hermione," her eyes brightened uncharacteristically.

"What?" Lucius narrowed his gaze as he turned to face his wife.

"Hermione. Her name is Hermione."

* * *

**August 1st, 1991**

Harry Potter turned his head in every direction as he walked along Diagon Alley for the first time, trying to look at everything at once.

Once he and Hagrid had finished withdrawing enough money for his upcoming year at Hogwarts, the two of them turned to face Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Might as well get yer uniform," Hagrid inclined his head toward the shop.

Harry entered the shop alone, feeling nervous.

"Hogwarts, dear?" said a squat, smiling witch who Harry guessed must be Madam Malkin. "Got the lot here– a young lady being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a girl with wavy brown hair and a heart-shaped face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up her long, black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to the girl, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the girl, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

After a few minutes of strained conversation, the girl gasped suddenly at the front window, "I say, look at that man!"

"That's Hagrid," said Harry. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the girl, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the girl less and less every second.

Another few minutes of demeaning conversation ensued, and Harry nearly exhaled an audible sigh of relief when Madam Malkins dismissed the girl.

"Well then, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." The girl hopped off the stool and exited the shop.

* * *

**September 1st, 1991**

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sat on the Hogwarts Express, covered with a slew of sweets Harry had purchased. A rat named Scabbers lay fast asleep on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

Just as Ron retrieved his wand their cabin door was unceremonious wrenched open. "Oi, you guys seen a toad?" said a said a boy with blond hair and a pale pointed face. "Neville here's lost one," he elbowed the toadless boy beside him.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the boy wasn't listening, he was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Hey, you're doing some magic. Let's see then." The blond-haired boy plopped down beside Harry to watch.

"Er – all right."

He cleared his throat.

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Happens to the best of us, mate" the blond boy shook his head with a lighthearted smile. "My parents are muggles, so I haven't gotten in much practice yet. I'm Draco Granger, by the way."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Harry Potter?" Draco's eyes widened. "I've read a thing or two about you after I found out I was a wizard and all. Read all I can actually. But I have to say I'm most excited about Quidditch. Sounds fascinating."

At that, Ron, Harry, and Draco delved into the world of Quidditch. They were just discussing the finer points of the game, when their door slid open yet again.

Two girls and a boy entered, and Harry recognized the girl in the center at once: it was the wavy haired brunette from Madam Malkin's robe shop. She was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than she'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" she said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment."

Draco's eyes narrowed, and he interrupted with a fair bit of cheek. "Yeah, that's Harry. What's it to you?" Ron narrowed his eyes as well, just for effect.

Hermione's eyes flashed to Draco, and flash of recognition flickering in her eyes. "Do I know you?" Her voice softened slightly.

"Doubt it," Draco sneered. "Didn't know I was a wizard until just a few weeks ago."

Hermione's gaze hardened. "Muggle-born, are you? Well, I would keep that to myself if were you." Before Draco could reply, she turned to Harry. "This is Blaise," she pointed to a handsome swarthy boy beside her, "and Millicent." She nodded toward the black-haired, thick-set girl beside her. "And I'm Hermione Malfoy," She smirked as though her name preceded herself.

She appraised Ron with a raised eye, glared at Draco, then turned again to Harry. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Harry. I suggest you reevaluate your entourage."

A pink tinge appeared in Draco's pale cheeks, but it was Ron who interrupted her diatribe. "Why don't you and your posse get lost, _Hermione Malfoy_."

Hermione huffed slightly and opened her mouth to argue, but her eyes fell on Draco's. Something felt so familiar about him. Why would she feel that way about a _muggle-born_, she thought bitterly. It angered her to no end, and she swung around, leaving as quickly as she'd come, her gang swiftly following.

"Don't think on it, you two." Ron shook his head. "I've heard of her family, and trust me, they're no good."

Draco sat in silence for a moment pondering what had just happened. Certainly the girl expressed a clear disdain for muggle-borns, and yet, she seemed almost a different person when she looked right into his eyes. And oddly enough, he felt different too. Angrier, thirstier, darker. It confused him to no end.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time…"

"Oi, five minutes?" Ron leapt to his feet. "We've got to get our robes on, Quick." And for the next five minutes the three boys scrambled hastily to get their robes on.

* * *

A witch named Professor McGonagall introduced herself to the first years upon entering the castle. "Now, form a line, and follow me."

Several of the students gazed in awe at the ceiling as they entered the Great Hall, which nearly looked like it faded off into space.

Draco heard Hermione whisper to Millicent from behind, "The muggle-borns look so surprised. I bet they don't even realize it's just bewitched to look like the sky outside." She and Millicent exchanged smug grins.

He glared at the floor angrily as they continued to walk toward the front of the Great Hall, but he knew she was right. After all, he'd read about it in _Hogwarts, A History._

After a rather impressive song by the Sorting Hat the sorting had finally begun, and Draco's heart began to race nervously. Two Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, and a Gryffindor were sorted. Draco wanted to be in that house so badly it hurt. Anything but Slytherin.

Speaking of which, one of Hermione's posse, the Bulstrode girl, had just been sorted into Slytherin. Draco glanced at the table with disdain, but then… familiarity? No, of course not; he was a muggle-born. It was utterly ridiculous to even imagine.

Another Hufflepuff was called, another Gryffindor, and then…

"Granger, Draco."

Draco shuffled nervously over to the hat and sat on the stool. The hat closed over his eyes, and astonishingly, the hat began to laugh. It laughed so long in fact that several of the students began to murmur. But gradually the hat quieted, proceeding to echo in the boy's ear.

"I've never quite encountered a situation like yours before." And before he could go on the hat began to laugh again softly, "Quite absurd."

Draco knew he ought to feel embarrassed that the hat continued to laugh at him, but a fire burned in his heart that he'd never felt before. A fire that told him to press on and not be afraid.

"I see," the hat finally muttered. "This will be a most interesting journey for you, but I see it all too clearly now. GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers as he joined the table.

Hermione Malfoy on the other hand watched Draco join the Gryffindor table with a perplexed expression. Something was off. Draco should have been sorted into Slytherin. Then Hermione scolded herself silently at the thought. Of course not. He was a muggle-born. She forced a smug smile onto her lips. She was his superior in every way.

She continued in that mindset until her name was called.

"Malfoy, Hermione."

Hermione strode confidently to the bench and set the hat on her head.

Suddenly the hat's voice boomed, "IMPOSSIBLE," so loudly that you could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence that followed. Even the teachers turned to the hat, completely dumbstruck.

Hermione felt angry. "What do you mean, _impossible_?" she thought to herself in a rage. "I'm a Malfoy. Put me in Slytherin already."

"Oh – I'm afraid I can't do that," the voice resounded sadly in her ears.

"Why not?" Hermione shouted, accidentally out loud.

"You'll see," the hat echoed over and over, before finally shouting, "RAVENCLAW!"

Millicent Bulstrode dropped the fork she had been twirling around her fingers. Blaise Zabini nearly fell tripped in line. Several of the Slytherins murmured amongst themselves. Hermione Malfoy could have never been anything but Slytherin. It was practically written in her blood. How did this happen?

Hermione rose stiffly from the stool and made her way painfully to the Ravenclaw table, the shock rolling off of her in waves.

Draco watched the girl curiously. She was clearly distraught at not being put in Slytherin. _But she belongs in Gryffindor,_ a voice interrupted his thoughts. He shook his head at the obvious absurdity. A Malfoy in Gryffindor? Now _that_ was impossible.

* * *

**Oh the irony! Poor Hermione Malfoy, not getting what she wanted. lol**


	3. Conflicted

**Disclaimer: Once Again, I have used lines from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone strictly for continuity purposes. Every character and every line from that story belong to J.K. Rowling. It is not my intention to infringe on anyone. I just want to bring my incorporated ideas to life.**

**It's really tough writing for Hermione's dark side and Draco's Gryffindor side. I'm trying to blend the personalities of their past life with their inherited traits from their current life, but it might not come out as smoothly as hoped. Still, I hope you enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Conflicted**

"I'm sorry, Lucius, but the rules are absolute." Professor Dumbledore replied calmly to Mr. Malfoy, who was most livid.

"This is an outrage," Lucius spat. "Our line have been in Slytherin for centuries, and you presume to put my only child in– Ravenclaw."

Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat and Lucius couldn't help but back away a few steps. "Rest assured, Lucius, that Hermione is in the best house for her needs."

Realizing there was nothing for it but to accept defeat, Lucius Malfoy marched furiously from the headmaster's quarters.

Hermione stood tentatively at the foot of the steps as she waited for her father to return. When she spied his enraged expression as he descended, however, she backed away nervously.

"Come here," he called to her in a quiet but commanding tone.

Hermione immediately walked over to her father. "I'm sorry, father, I tried."

"Do you realize what you've done?" Lucius shouted, grabbing her by the neck of her robes.

"Oi, let her go," a boy's voice rang out from behind.

Lucius let go once he saw the boy: blond, blue-eyed, very much like the son he'd hoped to one day have. It only fueled his rage. He turned to his daughter, whispering in a threatening tone, "Do not disappoint me again." Then he stormed off, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in corridor.

"Hey, are you all right?" Draco approached her cautiously.

"I don't need your help," Hermione glowered at the boy and stalked away. He was only a muggle-born after all.

* * *

Things only got worse for Hermione as the weeks went on. Millicent, Blaise, and every Slytherin she'd previously befriended gave her the cold shoulder. She was no longer one of them, and yet the Ravenclaws treated her no better. She was a Malfoy, a bigoted pureblood know-it-all who no one cared to associate with.

Then there were the three boys she'd met on the train. Draco and Harry turned out to be naturals on a broomstick, and Ron was close behind. Harry even made the Gryffindor House Quidditch team.

Ron might have gotten jealous if he hadn't earned his own bit of fame at Halloween.

* * *

It was a wretched day for Hermione. She sat silently in charms class next to a fellow Ravenclaw. Nearly six weeks had passed since she'd been so wrongly sorted into that house, and the isolation lingered. Terry Boot looked most uncomfortable to have to sit near 'misfit Malfoy', as she had been so loutishly nicknamed.

Hermione's eyes glanced over at Harry, who sat with a sandy-haired boy named Seamus as they attempted to make a feather fly. Then she peered to Ron and Draco who seemed to be having equally little luck with their levitation charm.

"Miss Malfoy, you haven't picked up your wand," Professor Flitwick's eyebrows furrowed. "Why don't you give it a try? And remember, _Swish and Flick_."

The class quieted somewhat to watch, but Hermione felt too deadened to care. She raised her wand without a smile and uttered the words clearly, but quietly, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Her feather rose promptly from the desk, just as she knew it would, but the loneliness around her stayed put. Secretly she had hoped it would lift as well.

Draco watched Hermione from across the room. She had achieved what none of the other students had, but she received no pleasure from it. She hadn't even seemed to hear the professor congratulate her.

"She must be having a harder time than she's let on." Draco remarked to Ron and Harry as they exited class later.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Serves her right, if you ask me. She was a right good prat that day on the train. Can you imagine if she'd gotten into Slytherin. It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."

Someone knocked into Draco as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Draco caught a glimpse of her face – and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you," he mutterly softly as the three walked on.

* * *

Draco tried to spot Hermione in their next class, but she seemed to disappear the rest of the afternoon. He grew slightly worried when she hadn't arrived for the Halloween Feast that evening.

"Hey, it's Padma, right?" He tapped a Ravenclaw's shoulder at the next table over who he knew to be Parvati Patil's twin sister.

"That's right." She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Have you seen Hermione?"

Padma rolled her eyes indifferently. "Last I saw she was in the bathroom crying. She's been in there all day I expect."

Draco nodded and turned back to his food when Professor Quirrel, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. "TROLL – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

Screams filled the Great Hall, but before everyone could panic fully, Dumbledore silenced the students and instructed the prefects to lead them back to their dormitories.

But Draco got a sinking feeling as they made their way upstairs.

"Ron, Harry, hold up." He paused in the hall as several other students rushed past.

"What's up, mate?" Ron stirred impatiently.

"Hermione doesn't know about the troll."

"Who – Malfoy?" Harry looked disappointed in his friend. "Who cares? She can take care of herself."

"I have a bad feeling," Draco stared at his friends earnestly. "C'mon, I know where she is."

Ron bit his lip. "Oh all right, but let's hurry."

Harry didn't move. "I'm not risking my neck for her."

Draco somehow knew they didn't have time to argue. "Fine, we'll meet you back upstairs. Cover for us."

Harry nodded and took off upstairs as Ron and Draco headed for the girls bathroom.

Just as they rounded the corner a bone-chilling scream rang out in the hall.

"Hermione!" Draco rushed to the bathroom and wrenched the door open.

He and Ron had little time to act, but quickly succeeded in confusing the troll as Hermione shied as far away as possible. Then Ron brandished his wand, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He pointed his wand at the troll's club and watched with pleasure as in fell with a sickening crunch, atop the troll's skull.

Hermione huddled in a corner by the sink as she watched Draco and Ron save the day. She was grateful, but when Draco tried to help her up she remembered what he was.

"Get away from me," she spat.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron shouted. "We just saved your neck, and all you can do is sniff your precious little pureblood nose up at us."

Hermione's face fell. Two sides of her mind seemed to fight one another as she gazed at the two boys before her. "I – I don't know…" was all she could reply.

* * *

Two weeks later Draco strolled outside when he spotted her by the lake, huddled in snow.

"It's a bit cold out here, Malfoy." Draco sat beside the witch quietly. "I'd offer to teach you a few fire charms, but I wager you already know them all."

"What do you want, Draco?" Hermione glared as her robes enfolded her knees while she sat.

He started to speak but paused, another more pressing question forming in his mind. "Why do I feel like I know you from somewhere?"

Draco expected a witty retort, perhaps even a blow to his lack of a proper family line, but to his surprise Hermione gazed at him, perfectly serious.

"I've been wondering about that too, you know." Hermione bit her lip. "Like maybe we're…"

_Connected somehow_, were the words in her mind, but she never got to finish.

"Oi, Malfoy." Blaise Zabini stalked over. "This mudblood bothering you?"

Draco sprang to his feet. "What did you call me?"

"You heard – Mudblood. Now get lost."

Hermione kept her expression passive as Draco looked to her for aid, but it soon became clear she wasn't going to offer any.

"I guess I didn't realize who I was talking to." Draco stalked away furiously. Whatever he had thought about Hermione Malfoy was all wrong. She might not have been sorted into Slytherin, but she'd never befriend a – _mudblood_, he shuddered at the name.

* * *

It seemed the Slytherins were finally willing to take Hermione back under their wing. And though Hermione's uplift in mood was apparent, it came with a price.

"Blimey, Neville, what happened?" Ron tripped over his fellow Gryffindor's body as he made his way to breakfast a week later. Unfortunately, Neville couldn't speak, only able to move his eyes around wildly.

"What happened to Neville?" Harry joined Ron's side.

"Body-bind curse," Draco shook his head, knowing full well who had probably cast it. He quickly whipped out his wand and performed the counter curse.

Neville rose shakily to his feet. "Thanks, Draco. I ran into Malfoy and her gang just a minute ago. She said she'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

Harry clenched his fists. "I've had enough."

"But Harry, she's a girl." Ron trailed after his friend as he stormed into the Great Hall.

"I don't care what she is," Harry yelled. "You don't mess with one of us and get away with it."

Hermione pursed her lips coyly as Harry, Ron, Draco, and finally Neville approached.

"Well if isn't the dream team – here to teach me a lesson, are you?"

"You owe Neville an apology," Harry seethed. He hadn't fully grasped what table Hermione was sitting at until several of the Slytherins rose beside her.

"Is that so?" Hermione's eyes glimmered deviously. "Well I have several classmates who would tell you otherwise. I'm not even in their house. And what Slytherin would lie for a – Ravenclaw," she spat, more at the thought of her house than at Harry.

Harry wasn't deterred and brought his hand to retrieve his wand, but Draco blocked Harry's hand with his arm.

"Hey, it's not worth it, Harry. _She's_ not worth it."

Harry clenched his fists again a few times, but finally exhaled and turned to leave.

Hermione was left with a bitter taste in her mouth at Draco's parting words, but the Slytherins soon made her forget.

* * *

It shouldn't have bothered her what _Draco Granger_ of all people had to say, and yet – his words came back to haunt her over the holidays and into the following term. By the end of the year she could scarcely go a day without it popping in her mind at least once.

The only ones who kept her mind off of the Gryffindors in fact were the Slytherins. She might have been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that wouldn't stop her from engaging her Slytherin side – as deeply as possible.

* * *

**I sincerely despised Hermione this way, but something will happen in 2nd year that will set a change in motion. I'm concerned with the flow of the story. If you think I should add more bits from the books to make it flow better then let me know! Thanks. :)**


	4. Petrified

**Disclaimer: Any lines taken from CoS belong to JK Rowling, and I have only used them for continuity's sake. I own nothing in reference to the HP Universe.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Petrified**

Hermione Malfoy peered over the banister with a covetous expression as the press fawned over Harry Potter at Flourish and Blotts. Admittedly, her interest had been piqued by the mildly famous and wildly handsome Gilderoy Lockhart, who was currently signing autographs, but Hermione's resentment toward '_the Boy Who Lived'_ overshadowed any positive emotions at the moment.

She scoffed audibly when Harry was presented with Lockhart's entire written works.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Harry?" Hermione smirked with narrowed eyes. "Always finding a way to slip into the spotlight."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny Weasley.

Hermione's devious grin only widened. "Dear, oh dear. You've got yourself a girlfriend, Harry. How positively endearing."

Ron and Draco fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," Ron cringed slightly at Hermione. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

Hermione's witty reply was right there in her mind, but as her eyes fell on Draco Granger the words seemed to dissipate, as if his sharp stare punctured each word before it could escape her lips. She hated how _familiar_ she felt when her eyes met Draco's.

Ron's parents shuffled their way over toward the exit, but Hermione's father entered, blocking their way.

"Well, well, well, – Arthur Weasley." Mr. Malfoy rested his hand stiffly on his daughter's shoulder.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

The two proceeded to quarrel tensely at the door.

"Father, please drop it." Hermione piped in when the conversation shifted indirectly toward Draco's parents. There was something so familiar about the two of them that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. "You would do well to keep your mouth shut when I speak. Wait outside," he ordered, and Hermione immediately slipped out the door and out of sight. All she could do was watch in mild embarrassment as her father and Mr. Weasley's argument quickly escalated into an all-out brawl. _Great…_

* * *

Hermione avoided the Gryffindors since their confrontation at the bookstore, but as the term began for their second year at Hogwarts, it was made evidently clear during their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that she couldn't hide forever.

Ravenclaws and Gryffindors shuffled nervously in their seats as Professor Lockhart revealed a cage full of bright blue Cornish Pixies. But any amusement they felt concerning the tiny creatures was forgotten the moment Lockhart opened the cage.

"Let's see what you make of them!"

Hermione's Slytherin side kicked in, and she ducked in a cabinet before the cage was fully open. Then she watched in half-amused, half-terrified astonishment as the pixies wreaked havoc on the classroom. The bell rang, and everyone rushed to the door, but Lockhart– whose wand had been chucked out the window by a pixie– had completely lost control of his classroom.

Harry, Ron, and Draco continued to fight off the pixies, and she heard Draco swore.

"There's a freezing charm, but I can't remember the bloody spell," he shouted as the three continued to shield themselves with heavy books.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _She_ knew the freezing charm. Finally, with a sigh she creaked the cabinet door open and began to immobilize any pixie that flew by.

It took the boys nearly two minutes to realize the pixies pelting them had diminished exceedingly, and when they turned their eyes to the front of the class they were further surprised to find Hermione Malfoy stuffing pixies madly in their cage.

"You could have helped us a bit sooner," Ron huffed irritably.

Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief. She immobilized the last seven pixies so quickly you could hardly blink. Then she pointed her wand at Ron and shouted the same charm.

Ron couldn't move, and Harry's eyes burned angrily.

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy."

But before Harry could retaliate, Draco had already performed the counter curse.

"Pay for what?" Hermione glowered at the three of them and strode furiously out of the classroom.

"She could have just left us there, you know," Draco shrugged, ever the voice of reason.

But Harry's pride boiled beneath the skin. Hermione wouldn't have just helped them for no reason. She was up to something.

* * *

Halloween arrived, and Hermione ditched the Ravenclaw table to sit on Adrian Pucey's lap, who seemed quite taken with her, but she couldn't help but peer over to the Gryffindor table every so often. Draco, Ron, and Harry Potter weren't there, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder just where they could be.

The answer arrived minutes later when screams echoed from a passage near the Great Hall. Hermione shot to her feet, tailed closely by the other Slytherins.

When they reached the end of the corridor something was shining on the wall ahead.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Beneath the words, Mr. Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, hung lifelessly. And none other than Harry Potter and his entourage stood at the center of it all.

Hermione pushed her way forward, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Of course, she knew this was going to happen. Her father had warned her, but as her eyes moved to Draco's nervous gaze, she felt a flicker of despair.

_What?_ Hermione scoffed to herself. Her thoughts were becoming totally irrational. Shaking her head furiously, she turned, practically running the entire way to the Ravenclaw dormitories.

Harry watched as Hermione stormed away as quickly as possible. That girl was definitely up to something.

* * *

Hermione sat alone in the library a few days before Christmas break. It was the one place most of her Slytherin friends had little tolerance for. But she was filled with a curiousness that couldn't be tamed. Her own father didn't know what the monster that dwelled within the castle could be, and she was determined to find out.

"Bit of light reading, Malfoy?" Draco sat beside her with a smirk.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "A muggle-born dares to sit beside a pureblood – Are you sure it's safe?" she joked, "Or have you joined the hilarity that Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin?"

Draco gazed into her eyes, trying to discern her thoughts. "Do _you_ think he could be the Heir?"

Hermione cringed. "Certainly not. I don't care if he speaks parseltongue…"

"_Deadliest Creatures of Our Realm_…?" Draco interrupted her suddenly, eyes bugging open.

"That's none of your business," she sniffed, slamming the book shut hastily.

But Draco suspected her motives immediately. "You're trying to figure out what the monster is, aren't you?"

"If I was, I certainly wouldn't tell you," Hermione huffed indignantly.

Draco's spirits lifted. Despite Ron and Harry's suspicions, Hermione certainly wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. "What if I could help you?" he offered, eyebrows raised.

Hermione pouted, "What are you talking about?"

But Draco never got a chance to finish.

"Oi, what's this mudblood want?" Adrian Pucey immediately grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck.

Hermione immediately concocted a clever lie. "Trying to ask if I'd negotiate with the Heir of Slytherin for his life," she chuckled lightheartedly.

Pucey laughed as well, dropping Draco to the ground. "So it's not your precious Potter then?" He continued to chortle, and Draco was able to slip away.

It wasn't until Hermione packed her things an hour later that she noticed the note from Draco.

_Watch the spiders._

* * *

When the next term began, but Hermione felt no closer to finding out what the creature was. And as much as she hated to admit it, she'd probably have to – _wince_ – team up with Harry Potter to find out.

She sat in the library, poring over books when an all too familiar voice startled her.

"Any luck?" Draco leaned against a shelf with arms folded.

Hermione pressed her lips together stubbornly before replying. "We shouldn't be seen together, you know. Our friends won't like it."

Draco ignored her warning, crouching beside her and clasping her hand.

The contact surprised Hermione, but she didn't pull away. "What do you want?" she uttered, more softly.

Draco lowered his voice so she could only just hear. "If I tell you everything we know about the monster, will you promise to keep it secret from your friends?"

Hermione said nothing for several seconds, staring into his blue eyes intently. Finally she sighed, "I promise."

The information was surprising.

Harry was seemingly the only one able to hear the creature before an attack, and it seemed to travel behind the walls? Between that and the spiders fleeing for their dear lives, they still didn't have much to go on.

It wasn't until May that the answer became clear.

* * *

Hermione sat beside Adrian Pucey, Blaise Zabini, and a few of the older Slytherins at the breakfast table.

"Look at Potter," Zabini scoffed, "as if he could be the _Heir of Slytherin_ – just because he can talk to snakes…"

Hermione stiffened for a moment. Snakes… of course! "I have to go the library," she stood from the table and fled the Great Hall, much to the amazement of her acquaintances.

She ran to the library, scouring the shelves for _Deadliest Creatures of Our Realm_.

"Yes!" she exclaimed softly to herself. She'd found it. Tearing a page from the book she retreated hastily toward the library entrance. She would warn Draco, and he would be safe. _But why does that matter?_ Hermione shook her head at the thought and continued on…

* * *

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed Quidditch stadium.

"No!" Ron shouted, matching the despairing screech of several of his classmates.

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Professor McGonagall beckoned Draco out of the complaining crowd. "Dumbledore has requested that you come with me."

Harry and Ron looked on confusion. "Should we come too?" Ron queried, but McGonagall pursed her lips sternly.

"I think not, Mr. Weasley. I have been instructed only to bring Mr. Granger."

"Why did Professor Dumbledore want me to come with you?" Draco mind was spinning as they hurried up the stairs.

"There has been another attack… another _double _attack. Professor Dumbledore felt it would affect you more than your classmates."

Professor McGonagall pushed open the door to the infirmary, and Draco's insides swirled with confusion as his eyes fell to the second hospital bed.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "I don't understand, Professor. Wasn't she a pureblood?"

"As far as we know, yes, Mr. Granger, but the Heir of Slytherin may still have considered her an enemy." Professor McGonagall's expression was inscrutable.

Draco approached hesitantly. He understood why Ron and Harry hadn't been allowed to follow. They didn't understand Hermione the way he did, or at least, _the way he thought he did._

When the news spread that the pureblood, Hermione Malfoy, had been petrified – the Slytherin gossip spread like wildfire. And Harry Potter suddenly became much more likely than before.

"But what about Draco Granger? He's still around," Pansy Parkinson huffed.

"Haven't you seen Hermione's parents? She looks nothing like them!" said a third year.

"Pureblood or not, Potter hates Malfoy. If he's the – _Heir_, it's no wonder she got petrified," a fourth year piped in.

Lucius Malfoy arrived in a rage the next morning. No one could calm him.

"It's no wonder he's in hysterics," Ron twirled his spoon at breakfast. "Can you imagine being in You-Know-Who's circle just to have your only child attacked by the Heir of Slytherin?"

Draco chewed on a particularly hard piece of toast. "I'm going to the hospital wing. Be back later."

"Again?" Ron accidently spewed a bit of juice on the table. "I don't get it. Didn't you two, you know – _hate eachother_?"

"Yes," Draco said promptly… _and no_, he thought to himself. His relationship with Hermione was complicated to say in the least.

When he reached the infirmary he was surprised to see Lucius Malfoy poised over his daughter, deep in thought.

"It's not possible," Mr. Malfoy muttered under his breath, "not possible."

"Worried about your daughter's lineage?" Draco couldn't help himself. The moment he saw Hermione's father a darkened rage built inside of him that he couldn't explain.

Lucius whipped around furiously to face the boy. "I'd be much more concerned with yours, boy," And he rushed out without another word.

* * *

Draco spent the next few weeks by Hermione's side. He couldn't explain it, but as Hermione lay there he kept getting the feeling he was missing something.

He'd dozed off holding her hand one afternoon when a crinkling under his fingers caused him to stir. _Paper._ How had he not noticed it before?

After several minutes of working the paper loose from Hermione's grasp, Draco smoothed the paper out and read it several times.

"Basilisk," he breathed in horror, tearing away after Harry and Ron.

* * *

Hermione blinked as the light of a candle flickered beside her. It took several seconds for her to grasp where she was, but it became clear once she heard the others' voices.

"Wow, I can't believe I actually got to see the basilisk! Too bad I didn't get a picture," Colin Creevey said, dizzy with excitement.

"Welcome back, Sir Nicolas."

"Thank you, Miss Clearwater."

Hermione listened as the others filed slowly out of the infirmary. Then she shot to the edge of her hospital bed, shattered with shock. How could she have been petrified? The only ones targeted by Slytherin's Heir were… _no. _

'_IMPOSSIBLE,' _the sorting hat had boomed. Is this why it had refused to put her in Slytherin?

She began to shake just as Draco Granger entered the hospital wing.

"Everyone's at the feast, Malfoy. Why haven't you left the hospital wing? Hermione?"

Hermione trembled as her glistening brown eyes rose to meet his.

"What am I, Draco?"

Draco took her hands. "I… don't know."

* * *

**Draco may seem a bit OOC, but you'll see his dark side come out more as Hermione unearths more of her good side.**


	5. A Time for Change

**I was really unhappy with this chapter at first, but I think I finally thought up a twist that had good potential.**

**Disclaimer: There are a few lines taken from PoA. They are JK Rowling's, and I have only used them for continuity's sake. I own nothing in reference to the HP Universe, but I wouldn't mind owning Draco. ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Time for Change**

_Dear Draco,_

_I'm glad to hear you're having fun on holiday in France. I guess you could say it's been tense here since I got petrified. Father's convinced the only way I could have been a target is I had been a blood-traitor. It's just as well I suppose. The Slytherins still aren't talking to me, but a few Ravenclaws have really reached out. I guess when Penelope Clearwater told them I'd pretty much saved her life by warning her about the basilisk their opinion of me changed. I still don't understand why it happened, but I'm looking into it._

_At least father's satisfied with my exam scores. I'm a joke at Quidditch, but at least I'm top of the class. You're amazing at Quidditch AND your exam scores were second highest. I'm impressed. _

_We're stopping by Diagon Alley the Tuesday before the holidays end. I'd like to see you, but father would probably have me pulled out of Hogwarts for hanging out with a muggle-born. Do you think we could meet somewhere in secret?_

_Regards, Hermione_

_P.S. My parents are acting a bit suspicious lately. Perhaps you should use a pseudonym to throw them off of our trail. I'll try to come up with one as well._

Draco read the letter with a smirk. Since their last meeting in the hospital wing at the end of last term Hermione and Draco decided to set up a secret correspondence. He hadn't even told Harry and Ron about it.

Pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment he quickly replied, hoping she'd understand his cryptic coding:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Don't worry about your father thinking you're a blood traitor. After all, I know how many hexes you fired at the muggle-borns last year. I say we go for twice as many this year. _

_I'll be in Diagon Alley the week before term with Harfang and Rolfius. We can meet up any time to plot our upcoming escapades._

_Bye –Vlad_

* * *

Hermione grinned as she read the letter. She hadn't actually attacked a single muggle-born the previous year, as Neville and Ron were both purebloods. Giggling lightly at his name choices, she hurriedly took out a quill to reply.

_Dear Vlad,_

_Meet me in the lot behind the stationary shop next to Flourish and Blott's on Tuesday at 1 o'clock._

_See you soon! _

_Hermione_

Hermione rolled up the note tightly and sent it off with her eagle owl. Something was changing inside of her, and she was genuinely excited to see Draco Granger, the muggle-born.

* * *

A few weeks later Harry and Ron were in Quality Quidditch Supplies for nearly ten minutes when Harry noticed their friend had disappeared.

"Hang on, what happened to Draco?"

Ron, who had grown much taller than Harry over the summer, peered around the store with no success. "I wouldn't worry about it, Harry. Draco's always running off, isn't he?"

Meanwhile, Draco was sneaking out the back exit of the store to the back lot of the stationary shop. And hiding behind a slender tree – was Hermione, looking lovely with her smooth waves of dark hair and sparkling brown eyes.

"You're late," she grinned.

"Or maybe you're just early." He shuffled his feet with a grin, admittedly feeling a bit shy.

"This is a weird, isn't it?" Hermione bit her lip after a minute. "We've been writing so much I think we might've run out of things to talk about."

"Yeah, probably." Draco stared a bit more intensely at the tree in front of them.

"I suppose I just wanted to see you before school starts. I don't expect we'll get much time to ourselves there."

"There's always the library, or maybe even detention," he grinned brightly.

"Oh you." She slugged him, but her smile slowly faded. "There won't be much time for us to see each other at all, will there?" Then Hermione's thoughts drifted to her father, and she frowned, "My parents will be looking for me any minute now, I have to go – but I'll see you at school."

"Yeah, 'course."

She gave him a swift embrace then hurried back into Flourish and Blott's.

Draco froze in surprise at Hermione's hug. He'd felt good – and then bad. For a second he was filled with an irrational wave of anger – hatred even, but Draco shook his head. He could never _hate_ Hermione. He'd seen a side of her in their letters that was sweet and pure, and yet, when they embraced he felt himself resenting her innate goodness. Something weird was definitely going on.

* * *

Hermione was right, of course. As soon as school started they barely even caught glimpses of each other. And when Draco _did_ happen to see her she was in the library studying feverishly.

There had to be a way for them to keep in touch somehow. And suddenly – Draco knew what to do.

The next day Hermione bit into a piece of toast when one of the school owls dropped a letter in front of her. Smirking with surprise, she untied the letter and began to read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_You weren't joking when you said you'd be busy this year. You might not even have enough time to read this, but if you do, we should meet up during the first Hogsmeade visit. Don't study yourself to death. –Vlad_

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. That is – until Mandy Brocklehurst sat down.

"Ooh, Hermione's blushing. What is that, a love letter?"

"No, wait!" But Hermione was too late.

Mandy snatched the letter and began to read it out loud. Hermione was mortified, and for a moment considered taking out her wand to hex Mandy but ultimately decided not to.

"So who's _Vlad_?" The other Ravenclaw girls chimed in, and Hermione got no reprieve until she escaped to the library.

_Dear Draco,_

_I'm sorry about what happened at breakfast. Some of the girls in my house are quite nosy sometimes. I don't know if I'll be able to get away now. They'll be watching me like a hawk to see if we try to rendezvous. But we'll find a chance – sometime. I miss you._

_Jean_

* * *

Draco got the letter the next morning, smirking at how muggle-like her code name was.

"Oi, Harry, could you pass the jam?" Ron was stuffing his face once again.

Harry passed the jam to Ron, noticing Draco's furtive grin as he read his letter.

"Hey, Draco, what are you so happy about?" Harry set his own mail down.

"Nothing. Mind your business," Draco shot back defensively.

"Ah, ah, ah." Fred Weasley sat beside him and scooping up the letter, glancing at it with surprised eyes. "Why don't you go on and tell us who _Jean _is and why she misses you so much, eh?"

Merciless ribbing ensued all the way until dinner time.

"So where's _Jean_ tonight?" George ginned wickedly at supper. "Oh, JEAN!" He sang through the crowd.

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco grew cross. For Hermione's sake, no one could find out about them.

* * *

So for the next month they refrained from writing to one another. And they hardly even got a chance to see each other until Halloween during the first visit to Hogsmeade.

Draco spotted Hermione at Honeyduke's and later at the Three Broomsticks, but Mandy Brocklehurst and Marietta Edgecomb were stuck to her like glue, ever determined to find out who had wanted to meet with her in secret.

Aside from that, Harry never got his permission form signed, so he and Ron were pretty much buddied up for the day.

He spotted her later during the Halloween feast, but the chaos that ensued afterward pushed any lingering thoughts from his mind…

* * *

Hermione heard the whispered rumors as they were ushered to the Great Hall: Sirius Black, the notorious mass murderer had gotten into the castle. And worse, he'd tried to break into the Gryffindor Common room, so all the students were to sleep in the Great Hall while teachers scoured the castle.

She wanted to know her friend was all right, so she slyly steered herself and a few fellow Ravenclaws toward the _'cute Potter boy'_ and his friends.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry uttered in dissatisfaction.

"What?" Ron looked around in confusion.

"It's Malfoy. She and her Ravenclaw buddies are coming over near us, so make sure to keep your voices low."

"Hey, at least it's not her _Slytherin_ buddies from last year." Ron unrolled his squashy purple sleeping bag.

Draco purposefully avoided looking in Hermione's direction. They'd agreed not to let anyone know they were friends so Hermione's father wouldn't go ballistic. He wanted to look her way eventually, but it proved difficult with so many students still awake.

Finally, around two in the morning Draco stole a glance in Hermione's direction. Her eyes were closed, but her hand was stretched in his direction.

Draco suddenly had the strangest urge to touch her hand. It was irrational, perhaps, but her fingers temptingly beckoned in his direction. Inhaling deeply, Draco stretched his hand in a painstakingly slow motion until his fingers grazed the base of her palm. Much to his surprise, Hermione's fingers clasped firmly around his own.

He lifted his eyes to Hermione's and they simply stared at each other for several minutes. Unbelievable. Draco Granger, holding hands with Hermione Malfoy – Draco secretly wondered if this would be the closest they would get the entire year. _He hoped not._

That night he had a disturbing dream. He tossed and turned in his squashy purple sleeping bag, but the dream persisted in his subconscious:

_Draco stood just inside the castle doors with two Slytherins, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, watching Hagrid weep. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was sentenced to be exectuted, and the Gamekeeper was distraught._

"_Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Draco. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"_

_Hermione, flanked by Harry and Ron, rushed forward, punching Draco with every ounce of strength she could muster._

"_Don't you DARE call Hagrid pathetic, you foul – you evil –"_

"_Hermione!" Ron tried to grab her hand._

"_Get off, Ron!"_

_Hermione pulled out her wand, but Draco fled, Crabbe and Goyle close behind._

"_Filthy little mudblood," Draco sneered as they disappeared down the passageway. "Someday she'll get what's coming to her."_

Draco woke with a start. Peering around carefully he found himself in the Great Hall, still swathed in his sleeping bag. He pondered his parting sentiments in the dream. Why would he be hanging around Crabbe and Goyle, two of the nastiest Slytherins in their year? Why would he call Hermione a – _mudblood – _of all things?

Draco tried to piece together the clues in his mind, but the exhaustion of very little sleep finally caught up with him, and he gradually drifted into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

Draco began to notice strange behavior in Hermione as the months progressed. She became frenzied with schoolwork, and then sometimes Draco thought he'd seen her simply vanish or appear out of nowhere.

But he didn't get a chance to speak to her again until the term had nearly ended.

Harry had just received the prophecy from Professor Trelawny, foretelling of the Dark Lord's Rise, and he, Ron, and Draco each felt like a sinking weight in the pit of their stomachs.

Draco rushed off to the library, as he often did, but this time it wasn't to read.

Of course she was there, looking much more relaxed now that exams were finished.

"Psst. Hermione," Draco whispered.

Hermione's eyes brightened as Draco beckoned her to an empty aisle of books. Now that exams were over the library was practically deserted.

"Draco, we shouldn't be seen together." Hermione's words clashed with her expression, beaming with delight at her secret companion.

"Hermione, something serious has happened."

Hermione's face grew somber at once. "What is it?"

Draco paused with indecision. "Can I trust you?"

To his surprise Hermione socked him in the shoulder. "Of course you can," she grimaced, "what can I do to help?"

Draco unfolded the account of everything that had happened to Harry throughout the year and what they knew about Sirius Black. Hermione gasped several times. _Thankfully the library was empty._

But just then Ron and Harry rushed in.

"Oi, there you are, Draco, we've been looking everywhere for you," Ron sighed happily whilst holding a struggling rat in his hands. "Hagrid found Scabbers and… wait, what's Malfoy doing here?"

Harry stood with equal confusion as both Draco and Hermione stumbled over their words. Then it dawned on him.

"You wouldn't happen to be – _Jean_, would you?"

Hermione's face flushed red, confirming his suspicions.

Before Harry could work up a proper tirade however, Ron let out a piercing yell.

"OUCH!" Ron grasped his finger. "Scabbers bit me, he _actually_ bit me!"

Ron's rat scampered away faster than anyone would have thought possible, and Ron took off after him, down the corridor and past the castle doors where Scabbers raced madly to the grass.

"Scabbers, what's gotten into you?" Ron finally snatched up the rat and shoved it into his pocket just as the others caught up to him.

"Ron, look out!" Hermione shouted suddenly.

The shock of Hermione Malfoy calling to him by his first name astounded Ron, but the surprise vanished instantly as he spotted the great, black dog bounding in his direction…

* * *

Hours later Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione sat in the hospital wing, despair plain on their faces. Sirius Black was – _innocent_ – and now he was going to have his soul destroyed by the dementors.

"_What we need," Professor Dumbledore said slowly, his eyes flickering to Hermione, "is more time."_ Hermione recalled the headmaster's words.

"What was all that rubbish?" Harry turned to Hermione dubiously. "What did he mean, _three turns_?"

"Draco, Harry, come here, quick," Hermione's eyes were filled with haste and worry.

"How do I know we can trust you?" Harry eyed her with dark suspicion.

"Dumbledore trusts me…" Hermione started.

"And _I_ trust her," Draco finished matter-of-factly.

After several painstaking seconds Harry sighed and joined them. Hermione wrapped the gold chain around their necks, and the three of them travelled back in time.

* * *

Back in the present, back in the hospital wing, they pondered what had just gone down in the last three hours. Harry's Patronus had warded off the dementors, and Harry, Draco, and Hermione successfully freed Black, who was now flying off into the twilight with a broom they'd borrowed indefinitely from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Professor Snape was livid.

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!"

Dumbledore remained as unflappable as ever. "That will do, Severus. Think about what you are saying… Unless you are suggesting that Harry, Draco, and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Hermione remained frozen in thought. Draco had come to _her_ for help, which Harry had grudgingly accepted. Why did she feel – like Draco shouldn't have been there? She caught his gaze, and for the briefest moment she envisioned the scene without Draco – where _she _was the friend and confidant of Harry and Ron.

_Odd_, she thought to herself. In what world would she ever have willingly been friends with_ Harry Potter_? And yet at the same time it felt so natural.

* * *

When Lucius read the letter informing him that his daughter had gotten caught up in a strange series of events with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Draco Granger – his stare could have broken glass.

"I don't understand," Narcissa read the letter over again, slightly frantic. "What is Hermione doing with the Potter boy?"

"It doesn't matter," Lucius strode across the room, his icy stare peering out the window. "If our daughter has become a blood traitor we'll simply have to – rectify the situation."

Narcissa joined her husband and took his arm hesitantly. Whatever he was planning, she was certain it wouldn't be good.

* * *

**With the chapters getting longer and the holidays being busier it's going to take longer for chapters to get out. Hope you enjoyed this one. Happy Holidays!**


	6. Unforgiveable

**Wow, the Christmas Holidays were amazing! This chapter is much longer than my normal chapter. I'm hoping to post chapters once a week with the way things are going.**

**Thanks for all reviews, constructive, great, bad, troll, etc. If I want to be a good writer I need to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Unforgiveable**

Draco sat with Ron outside the Burrow, gazing pensively at a gnome trying to sneak its way into the garden.

"What's wrong there, mate? Aren't you excited about the World Cup?" Ron stuffed a pastry in his mouth. "I mean, I bet Malfoy will be there."

Ever since Hermione had helped the three of them save Sirius Black, Harry and Ron were aware of Draco and Hermione's secret friendship.

"Something's not right." Draco threw a medium sized rock, pelting the gnome right in the face, and the pest balled up its little fists angrily and scampered away. "Hermione said she'd write a load of letters, but she hasn't sent a single one – and I've sent her a fair few."

Ron raised his eyebrows and finished his sweet roll, unsure of what to say. A few letters wouldn't have worried _him._

But Draco couldn't help but shake the feel that something had indeed happened to Hermione. Hopefully he'd get a chance to see her at the Quidditch World Cup in two days.

* * *

Sure enough, when they made their way to their seats in the stadium two days later, Draco caught a familiar face from the row behind.

"Ugh," Ron contorted his face with disgust. "I don't get what you see in that lot, Draco."

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy sat beside their daughter, looking nastier than ever. Without warning, Lucius turned his gaze directly at Draco and stared him down for several seconds. Feeling emboldened, Draco met his gaze with narrowed eyes.

Hermione, however, refused to look in their direction at all. She stared ahead into the stands, a glint of unease clear in her features, or was it – _fear_?

Harry either didn't notice Hermione's discomfort or chose to ignore it.

"Hey, Malfoy, have a good summer?" Harry's eyebrow raised as if to challenge the pureblood witch.

Hermione's eyes widened, and an unmistakable touch of terror crossed her face as her eyes flickered to her father, but she masked it quickly.

"I'm sure it was better than yours, Potter." Hermione's tone was convincingly scathing. "Blow up any more muggles yet?"

"Now, now, Hermione." Lucius rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder, looking smug. "We all have a lapse of judgment from time to time." His voice lowered to a whisper, "You of all people know that, I dare say."

Draco's mouth fell open slightly. Now he understood why Hermione hadn't written. Blood rushed in his veins, fury boiling under his skin.

"Forget about it, Draco," Ron whispered urgently. "Trust me; you don't want to go picking a fight with _Lucius Malfoy_."

Draco turned around, absolutely fuming. It wasn't until the game began that he was able to distract himself at all from his rage towards Hermione's father.

Fortunately, the match proved to be quite enjoyable, amazing even. It wasn't until well after the match that night that everything took a turn for the worse.

* * *

Mr. Weasley had shaken them awake amid the sounds of screaming outside their tent.

"Get into the woods and _stick together,_" he'd shouted.

Masked wizards whom Draco soon discovered were called Death Eaters were wreaking havoc on the camp sites near the Stadium, going so far as to disgrace and humiliate the muggle site manager and his wife and children.

Harry, Ron, and Draco scrambled around in the darkness, when someone whispered "_lumos_" just a few feet away.

"Hermione," Draco shouted.

"Oh, Granger, you're all right." Hermione rushed over and threw her arms around Draco's neck. "I'm so sorry about not writing, my father was furious that I was even associating with you, and I couldn't let on that I cared about any of you, that's why I was so abominably rude in the stadium, and…"

"Hermione." Draco clutched her forearms and stared into her eyes. "It's all right."

"But it's not." Hermione's voice was shaky. "They're not just out to get muggles, Draco. _You're not safe._"

"How do you know all this, Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

Hermione looked like she wanted to answer, but the words were stuck in her throat. "They're coming this way. _Please, go._"

Draco peered at her one last time before letting go of her hand and dashing off into the darkness with Harry and Ron.

* * *

"Hermione, darling where have you been?" Narcissa clutched her daughter to her side. "I've been worried sick."

"I – I just needed to check on something." Hermione stumbled on her words.

"You mean _someone_?" Mrs. Malfoy pressed her lips together angrily. "Tell me it wasn't the Potter boy."

"No," Hermione said. "No it wasn't him."

"One of his friends then? The blood traitor or the muggle born?"

Hermione faltered. "I just – they're just…" she couldn't finish.

A deeper voice entered the lavish tent. "So our jabs at the Potter boy were merely a ruse," Lucius stated in a disgusted calm. "I must say that was quite clever of you."

"They're my friends." Hermione straightened, boldly admitting the truth. "And I'll spend my time with whomever I please."

"I see." Lucius let out a long sneering sigh. "Now that _is_ a problem. I can't have my daughter prancing around with _Potter and company_, now can I…" Lucius derided. "It would leave a rather unfavorable impression on my – colleagues."

"Your precious Death Eater friends mean more to you than your own child, do they?" Hermione spat viciously.

"My love for you is why I'm afraid I must do this." He lifted his wand determinedly.

"Father, please." Hermione's immediate terror seeped through every pore. "Don't do this, I– I won't speak to them again."

Mr. Malfoy's lip curled. "Precisely what I had in mind – _IMPERIO_."

Hermione suddenly hadn't a care in the world. She saw her father's wand still pointed in her direction, but it didn't matter in her mind.

"_You are not to speak to blood traitors, unless it is to insult them. You will ignore mudbloods, unless it is to torment them. And you will have NOTHING to do with Harry Potter or his friends."_

Hermione nodded placidly. Harry, Ron, and Draco seemed but a distant memory.

* * *

By the end of the first day of classes the students were all abuzz about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody. But it wasn't until a month into classes that things really got interesting.

Professor Moody announced during the Ravenclaw class on Tuesday that he would be putting the Imperius curse on each student in turn to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But – but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said – to use it against another human was…"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eyes swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way – when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Hermione watched as, one by one, her classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Terry Boot did a handstand and a back flip. Padma Patil sang the Hogwarts school song while doing jumping jacks. Not one of the other Ravenclaws seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Malfoy," Moody inclined his head toward Hermione, "you next."

Hermione stepped forward nervously to the center of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "_Imperio!_"

Hermione stood there looking nonplussed. "Isn't something supposed to happen?"

Professor Moody's eyes darkened and he rushed in front of Hermione, appraising her carefully.

"Who did it?" He growled in a whisper. "You've already been imperiused. _Who did it_?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"CLASS DISMISSED," Moody bellowed. "Everyone out! Except for you, Miss Malfoy," he said, grabbing Hermione's arm.

When the room was emptied Professor Moody rounded on her furiously. "Now, Miss Malfoy. Who performed the Imperius Curse on you? Was it a student?"

"No!" Hermione shouted uncontrollably. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she insisted.

"Think, Hermione, _think!_" Moody's normal eye narrowed into a slit while the other spun wildly around. "Have you been doing things that are seemingly beyond your control, things you wouldn't normally do?"

_Everything's fine_, a voice uttered in her mind. _Professor Moody must be completely off his rocker._

Hermione opened her mouth to reply when another, smaller voice sifted into her thoughts.

Everything is NOT fine. You can't even see your friends. If you see them, you'll hurt them. Don't you want to see _him_?

"Yes," Hermione whispered, answering both Professor Moody's question and her own.

"Who did this to you, Miss Malfoy. Think long and hard."

_He did it because he loves you. He knows the mudbloods and blood-traitors will ruin you._

That's not true! The small voice seemed to grow ever so slightly.

_Don't tell him!_

Tell him.

_Do Not Tell Him._

TELL HIM.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't will the words to come out.

"I can't," she whispered defeatedly.

Professor Moody pressed his lips into a thin line. "You may go, Miss Malfoy. But if you happen to remember anything or feel the need to share, you come to my office straightaway."

Hermione nodded and slipped out the classroom, perplexed by the events that had just taken place.

* * *

Draco tried to find Hermione during those first two months of school, but they had no classes together, and she never appeared in the Great Hall at meal times.

Ron frowned while digesting a rather large bite of turkey. "But – you don't think she's avoiding you because she doesn't like you, mate? You saw her dad. She's probably keeping out of the way so she doesn't get the snot beat out of her."

Draco whipped around to face Ron. Mr. Malfoy wouldn't actually cause _physical_ harm to his own daughter, _would he_?

"I've got to find her." Draco flew up from his seat toward the Ravenclaw tower, but before he reached stairs he spotted Hermione sneaking hastily down another set of steps.

He followed her as she crept to the basement level of the castle, all the way to the entrance to the kitchens.

_What would she be going to the kitchens for_, he wondered as he hid behind a pillar.

"Dobby," Hermione whispered.

With a _pop_ Dobby appeared outside the door – which was actually a portrait of a bowl of fruit – with a plate full of food.

"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione smiled.

"Anything for my lovely mistress," Dobby bowed low and disappeared back into the kitchens. Hermione swept past Draco unknowingly, until she found an empty classroom to eat in.

Draco nearly went in after her, but something stopped him. Maybe Hermione was in more trouble than they'd thought – and if he went barging in there was no telling if things would only get worse. Painstakingly Draco pulled away from the door to the empty classroom and made his way back to the Great Hall.

* * *

The Triwizard Tournament. It was on everyone's mind. The delegates from the other schools set to compete with Hogwarts – Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – were set to arrive the night before Halloween, and even Hermione found herself anticipating October thirtieth.

That was the next time Draco saw Hermione, although she seemed utterly disinterested in the Gryffindor table. He couldn't blame her, really. The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were certainly a sight to behold. 'Viktor Krum!' Ron shouted excitedly. But even after they had been introduced Hermione completely shut out the table behind her.

Once again, Harry wouldn't leave well enough alone.

"Oi, Hermione, could you pass the swirly pastry on your table?"

The words were out of her mouth before Hermione could even blink. "How about you get off your lazy arse and fetch it yourself, you filthy muggle lover?"

Hermione gasped and fled before Harry could reply.

"Still think she's the good guy, Ron?" Harry spat angrily in his best friend's direction.

Draco didn't hear Harry though. All he could see was the look of shock on Hermione's face when she'd uttered the insult.

"Oi, Draco, where are you going?" Ron stared up at him quizzically.

"To find out the truth."

Using a shortcut Draco remembered from Harry's Marauder's Map, he was able to head off Hermione before she reached the Ravenclaw tower.

"_Hermione!_" He called out just as she rounded the corner.

Hermione gasped again and tried to run the other direction, but Draco was too fast. Grabbing her shoulder he pinned her against a pillar.

"Why do you keep trying to run away?"

"Get off me, you bloody idiot!" Hermione tried to shove him off, but Draco held fast.

"I don't get what your deal is, Hermione," Draco fumed. "One day you're my friend, and the next you act like you can't be bothered to breathe the same air."

Hermione stopped struggling for the briefest moment. Part of her wanted to tell Draco what was going on – and how she _really _felt, but every time she tried she visibly choked.

"Hermione?" Draco's anger turned to concern as he watched her struggle. "Oi, Hermione, what's wrong?"

_Call him a filthy, little mudblood_, one voice sounded commandingly in her head.

No! Her own voice in her thoughts fought the compelling insults that flooded her mind.

_Tell him you hate him. He's disgusting, vile, beneath you in every way._

But I don't hate him; I care about him, Hermione clashed against the curse in her mind with every ounce of strength she had.

_Hex him. He's nothing. Just a dirty, filthy piece of trash. Tell him how worthless he is. Make him hurt. Make him…_

"I WON'T!" Hermione screamed painfully.

"You won't what?" Draco eyed her with confusion.

Hermione's eyes were filled with torment. "I can't – let them." Agony ripped at every feature in her face.

"Who?" Draco pounded the wall. "Who's doing this to you?"

Hermione nearly felt herself break through her father's Imperius Curse, but just as she was about to speak she felt her mind get ripped back like a slingshot.

Draco watched in alarm as Hermione's expression altered into a hateful glare. "I told you to leave me _alone_, you filthy, muggle-born, piece of…"

"Hermione!" Draco shouted in disbelief.

Hermione seemed to snap out of it. "Oh no," she breathed in horror and took off back down the corridor.

"Hermione, wait!" Draco called after her, but she was long gone.

* * *

Hermione succeeded in taking her mind off things by spending as much time as possible in the library. Unfortunately, the ever-famous, Bulgarian Quidditch playing Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, also spent a lot of time in the library. This meant Hermione didn't get much studying done, as groups of giggling girls often turned up to spy on him from behind bookshelves.

One day Hermione finally lost her temper.

"Would you all kindly SHUT UP!" Hermione rose from the seat where she was studying, and the girls peeked out from behind the closest book case. "Some people are trying to study, but you're too busy ogling the _famous Quidditch star_. You wouldn't even look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-faint thing…"

"Wronsky Feint!" an older Gryffindor corrected her, scandalized by the error.

Madam Pince finally stepped in. "Miss Malfoy is quite right! If you're not here to study then I must ask you to leave _at once_!"

Hermione took a satisfied breath and sat down to read but suddenly felt someone staring at her. She looked up to see Viktor Krum at the next table biting back a smile.

"Thank you," he nodded curtly.

Hermione creased her eyebrows, slightly taken aback, but returned the smile. "You're welcome."

* * *

Draco wanted to tell Ron and Harry about Hermione's odd behavior, but seeing as Ron was severely jealous of Harry becoming a Triwizard Champion – the time never came. It wasn't until after the first task that he was able to tell them what had happened.

"Blimey, you think someone cursed her?" Ron sat dumbstruck on his bed.

Harry nodded slowly. "I think Ron might be right. After all she's done to help us, it doesn't make sense for her to just go back to hating us now, does it?"

"What _did_ Malfoy say again?" Ron stared hard at the floor.

"She shouted, _I WON'T. _Then she said, '_I can't let them._'"

Harry stared out the window before turning back to Draco and Ron. "You don't reckon she's had the Imperius Curse put on her, do you?"

Draco's eyes widened. "That's got to be it, Harry."

Ron grimaced, "But who would want to keep Hermione from talking to us?"

"Let's think. Every Slytherin in the school?" Harry scoffed.

"I don't think so," Draco shook his head. "Can you think of a single Slytherin powerful enough to put the Imperius Curse on _Hermione_?"

Ron frowned, "Good point, mate."

"I can think of someone much more powerful," Draco's eyes narrowed, "Someone who's been with Hermione a lot longer than any of us – someone who hates us, especially Harry."

"You don't mean…" Ron's jaw dropped.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry finished, Draco nodding in agreement.

* * *

Hermione spent the next several days in the library, as did Viktor Krum. They began to greet one another when they entered or left, but no other words were shared, until the day the Yule Ball had been announced.

Every girl in the school was in a tizzy, flocking into groups as they giggled madly when a cute boy would pass – Every girl, that is – except Hermione.

After her last encounter with Draco, and a few additional visits with Professor Moody, Hermione was sure she'd overthrown her father's Imperius Curse – but that didn't mean she was free. She had to continue to pretend to be under its control, so her father wouldn't ever find out.

At first she thought she wouldn't go to the ball at all. The thought of Draco dancing with some other girl made her stomach squirm, but when she walked into the library that afternoon, she found herself able to breathe a bit more easily. Soon she would see Viktor, and an odd fluttery sensation came over her.

Hermione smiled. Viktor Krum didn't smile often, but when he did she felt herself grow slightly dizzy. But she shook her head. He was an international Quidditch player. And she was some sort of pureblood misfit.

Krum walked in a few minutes after she did, sitting at the table nearest her. A group of girls, much larger than usual tiptoed in after him, each of them hoping he might ask them to the Yule Ball.

Finally a seventh year Hufflepuff plucked up the courage and minced over to the Durmstrang Champion. "Hello, Viktor." She fluttered her eyelashes for effect, and Hermione had to bite back a laugh.

Viktor practically glared. "I have much verk to do, if you don't mind…"

"I don't mind," she cut in quickly. "Actually I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go with me to the Yule Ball."

"Forgive me," he replied with a thick accent. "I am already spoken for."

The disappointment exuded by each girl was tangible, but Madam Pince kicked them all out promptly before too much crying could ensue.

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to study when she felt his gaze on her again.

Viktor, to Hermione's great surprise, looked nervous. "I vos vundering if I might sit vith you for a moment."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Of course." She absentmindedly shoved several books out of the way as he joined her.

Viktor Krum looked anxious indeed. "You haff heard about the Ball, haff you not?"

"Yes…" Hermione's eyes narrowed doubtfully.

"Vell, I vos vundering – if you would like to go vith me."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry – but didn't you just tell the other girl that you were spoken for?"

"And so I am," he gazed hopefully into Hermione's eyes, "if you'll haff me."

Hermione's heart might have stopped – she wasn't sure why the room began to suddenly spin, but a hop, skip, and a kiss on the hand later, she was sure of one thing – She was going to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum.

* * *

The night of the Ball arrived, and Harry, Ron, and Draco had barely scrounged up dates. Draco, desperate for a date, asked Ginny for help, and she set him up with the strangest girl he'd ever met – Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, this is lovely," she sighed in a sing-song voice as they entered the Great Hall. "Watch out for wrackspurts though. They're everywhere."

"Wrackspurts…" Draco gaped at her incredulously.

"Oh yes," Luna exhaled dreamily. "They cause people to do the strangest things."

Draco was peering every which way for a glimpse of Hermione, but she was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall call out to the champions that he saw her.

Her hair was twisted back in an elegant knot that draped effortlessly over one shoulder. She was wearing robes made of a shimmery midnight blue, and she was holding herself differently, more confident, but just as beautiful.

"Blimey." Ron nudged Draco. "Viktor Krum asked _Hermione_?"

Draco felt unimaginable wave of jealousy sweep through his veins as Hermione glided gracefully across the dance floor with the Durmstrang champion. It took every ounce of self control to get a hold of himself.

"Hey, I'm sorry, mate," Ron offered honestly as he and Padma Patil joined the others on the dance floor.

Luna didn't mind that Draco refused to budge from the table. She swayed and danced to the beat by herself, unaware of the occasional gawking onlookers.

After two hours Draco tactfully informed Luna that he was tired and wanted to get to sleep early. In truth he felt he couldn't stand another second of Hermione looking so happy with Krum. Fortunately, Luna was perfectly happy to oblige.

"Oh don't worry," she skipped beside him up the steps, "those wrackspurts were getting out of hand anyway."

* * *

Draco lay fully clothed on his bed, staring at the ceiling, battling with his thoughts for several minutes. _What am I waiting for? I should go back down and ask Hermione for a dance. Just one dance._

He took a deep breath and hurried back down to the ball, determined to see the girl who was driving him insane.

To his great satisfaction, all the Durmstrang boys were being forced to turn in early by a rather cantankerous looking Karkaroff.

Hermione looked a bit lonely standing by herself, but she gasped, eyes brightening, when Draco pulled her into the shadows, behind the great Christmas tree Hagrid had carried in earlier.

"Dance with me," he whispered softly in her ear, and Hermione flushed.

"You know I can't, Draco. Someone might see…"

"No one will see us back here."

They swayed slowly and carefully to keep hidden behind the tree, and Hermione found herself resting her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered with a smile. "This is perfect."

Draco gazed at her, tenderly sweeping a ringlet of hair from her eyes. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers.

Everything seemed to happen at once. The chemical attraction burned like fire inside, and Draco felt himself begin to tremble with each breath.

Hermione gasped for air, tracing her fingers along the back of Draco's neck, their kiss deepening with each passing second…

"Hey, wake up, mate." Ron's shout startled Draco.

Laying on his bed, Draco opened his eyes and swore to himself, kicking one of the posts on his bed.

Finally he sat up to face his two friends. "Where's your date, Harry?"

Ron cleared his throat. "You know, Parvati and Padma decided to hang out with those boys from Beauxbatons. Probably for the best."

"Is Krum still there?" And by that Draco meant _Hermione_.

"Yeah," Harry bit his lip, "but it looks like the Durmstrang lot will be turning in soon."

"Oi, you should sneak down there and steal a dance with Hermione," Ron shrugged lightly.

"Right, I just stand there looking dodgy until Krum leaves?"

"Take Harry's invisibility cloak!" Ron offered.

Harry grinned widely. "Hey, that's brilliant. Go for it!"

Draco gawped incredulously for several seconds before grudgingly taking the cloak. He definitely wanted to see Hermione, especially after that dream… He trembled slightly at the vivid memory.

He made his way carefully down to the Great Hall, making sure to keep hidden beneath Harry's cloak. _Yes._ Ron was right; the Durmstrang lot was leaving. All he had to do was wait for Krum to say goodnight.

* * *

Hermione bit her lip adorably as Viktor escorted her to the steps leading away from the dance.

"You vill be all right getting to the tower?" The depth of his gaze made Hermione blush crimson.

"I know my way around well enough," she teased, and they both laughed lightly.

"It has been an honor to be your date this eaf'ning." Viktor kissed her hand, and the pulse of her heart jumped.

"The honor was mine," she beamed at him. "I had a wonderful time."

"Hermoninee." Hermione nearly giggled, but the seriousness of his gaze silenced her. "Perhaps, there vill be more times?"

Hermione's heart stuttered, eyes sparkling beneath the surrounding torchlight. She nodded with a huge smile, "I hope so."

Viktor smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Hermione's heart beat wildly as she realized what he was about to do…

* * *

Draco watched in horror as Viktor Krum leaned in to kiss Hermione. Within seconds the kiss deepened and the two began snogging shamelessly, but as mortifying as it was to witness, Draco couldn't pull his eyes away.

Anger festered beneath his skin. Rage boiled in his blood. Betrayal sifted into every pore. Finally Draco could take no more and rushed as fast as he could back to his dormitory.

"Back already?" Harry stared him, perplexed as Draco hurled his cloak to the ground.

"What happened, mate?" Ron peered up from his pillow.

Draco wasn't sure he could speak. Hermione and Krum. It was the most vile and unfair thing he could imagine. He threw his head in his hands and growled, "Viktor Krum happened."

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise. "They didn't—_snog,_ did they?" When Draco said nothing Ron let out a low whistle, "Blimey…"

"You know what, it doesn't matter," Draco shook his head. "Hermione Malfoy can snog whoever she wants. See if I care."

Harry gave Draco a sympathetic pat on the back and headed to the bathroom. Ron shrugged apologetically and lay back down on his pillow.

But Draco couldn't sleep. _Maybe she was still imperiused?_ Draco doubted that. He hadn't heard the witch insult anyone in weeks. The only other possibility was that Hermione had actually fallen for Viktor Krum, the international Quidditch star– _oh Merlin,_ Draco could have died at that very moment. There was no way he stood a chance against _Viktor Krum_.

Draco swore again. So he'd lost her then… _No matter,_ he scoffed to himself. _He'd get on fine without Hermione Malfoy. _She could kiss whomever she bloody well pleased. _And she'd done exactly that_, Draco's memory hauntingly reminded him– over, and over, and over again…

* * *

**Lol, who wishes the dream hadn't been a dream? (Me!) Oh well, trouble in paradise... It's going to take a while to get things sorted out now. :/ Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it so far. :)**


	7. Double Agent

**So this chapter is waaaay late. I'm sorry! My mind can be a very confusing place at times, and it sometimes takes a while to wade through unintelligible thoughts 'til I finally uncover a stroke of inspiration for a story. Hope you like!**

**Disclaimer- Harry Potter and all that it entails belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Double Agent**

Narcissa Malfoy peeked in Hermione's room at Malfoy Manor. The July sun beamed through one of Hermione's windows as she sat in bed, lazily reading.

"Darling, Viktor's here to call on you again."

Hermione pouted slightly. _Again?_ Viktor Krum's impromptu visits were beginning to wear on her nerves, as were her parent's obvious joy at her suitor. Krum was a pureblood, wealthy, International Quidditch star, none of which were reasons Hermione had ever liked him, but Lucius and Narcissa turned a blind eye as far as _that _was concerned.

She made her way down the steps toward the entrance hall and smiled politely at Viktor. While she still enjoyed his company, Hermione recognized that what she felt for the Quidditch star could never be more than friendship.

"Shall we?" Viktor extended his arm, and Hermione accepted, allowing herself to be led out onto the path leading away from the house.

"How are you, Viktor?" Hermione sighed softly.

Viktor exhaled and turned to face the pretty witch when they were several yards from the house. "Your parents are pleased when I call on you, yes?"

Hermione shrugged with a smile, "Of course they are. You're everything they would ever want for their only child."

Viktor exhaled again. "But I am thinking that you are not so pleased."

Hermione met his gaze, looking regretful. "I like you very much, Viktor. I'm just not positive it's the way you or my parents hope for... And they keep pushing for a union so forcefully that I admit it's had the opposite effect they'd intended."

He considered her words carefully for a minute, then nodded slowly. "But your parents vill be angry if we cease to be a couple?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't want to put any pressure on you, Viktor. You're a good person, who doesn't deserve to be strung along."

Viktor smiled thoughtfully and took Hermione's hand, kissing it gently. "Thank you for being honest vith me. I vish you the best, Her-mynony."

Hermione laughed and shared a parting embrace with her famous friend. "Thank you, Viktor. Good luck."

Lucius Malfoy was livid when Hermione finally admitted a month later that she and Viktor had decided to part ways, and Hermione had paid the price.

* * *

Aboard the Hogwarts Express Draco shrugged a self-conscious wave at Harry and Ron as he made his way to the Prefect compartment nervously. He knew Hermione would have also been made a Prefect, and he dreaded seeing the witch.

Sure enough, he spotted Hermione's figure slumped against the window as he sat, but she made no notice of his presence – or anyone else's for that matter.

Draco rolled his eyes and tried to converse with some of the other Prefects. He was still harboring a grudge against Hermione for dating Viktor Krum. As far as he knew it was still going on, and he'd voluntarily sit beneath the Whomping Willow before he'd bring up _that_ subject with her.

Blaise Zabini, however, had no qualms in addressing the Malfoy heiress.

"Hey, Hermione, I heard from Parkinson about you and Krum. He's a barmy git for letting you get away." Blaise rested his hand on her knee, and Draco involuntarily tensed.

Hermione sighed and finally lifted her head. The compartment was suddenly filled with shocked inhales as each prefect caught a glimpse of Hermione's face. She had a black eye and red marks across half of her face.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione, what happened?" Blaise wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Oh – well, I'm actually the one who broke it off with Viktor…" Hermione stared at the ground and echoed in barely a whisper. "Father wasn't pleased."

A myriad of emotions swelled throughout Draco: fury at Hermione's father, relief that she had left Viktor, jealousy of Blaise's not-so-subtle advances.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We'll take care of you." Blaise held her more tightly, and Draco couldn't help but seethe in silence.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was a nightmare, sent by the Ministry of Magic to 'teach' Defense against the Dark Arts. Harry had gotten a load of detentions for declaring that Voldemort had returned, and their class had seemingly no hands-on instruction to speak of at all.

Draco grew nervous. He wasn't one to worry _too _much about grades – save for Hermione Malfoy he was at the top of his class, but when it became clear that the Ministry was trying to hinder the students from practicing magic he, Ron, and Harry finally came up with the solution.

"So Dobby found a place for Dumbledore's Army," Ron grinned widely. "I knew I liked that little house elf."

And so the boys discovered The Room of Requirement, and Dumbledore's Army began to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts from Harry under Professor Umbridge's very nose.

Draco saw little of Hermione as the months passed. She kept mostly to herself and a few Ravenclaw and Slytherin friends, but with O.W.L.S. around the corner she was usually alone in the library, studying ravenously. It was just as well. He'd never quite forgiven her for kissing Viktor Krum, and with Quidditch – due to Harry, Fred, and George's lifelong ban – and D.A. meetings, he was far too busy to seek her out anyway.

* * *

It was April, and D.A. members were excited to learn how to conjure a Patronus.

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're meant to _protect _you." Harry rolled his eyes at Cho Chang and her swan Patronus.

"Oh, bugger off, Harry," Draco grinned as his dragon breathed a vapory silver mist at his feet. "It's a wonder we can find enough to be happy about under Umbridge's _Reign of Terror._ Several murmurs of assent echoed around him.

"Oi, check out Draco's Patronus," Dean Thomas gaped in awe.

"Oh yes." Luna drifted over, her eyes sparkling with a dulled look of mischief. "It's the _Dragon Granger._"

"Blimey," Ron's mouth fell open. "Do you reckon you could be the one from story?"

"What story?" Draco frowned. He'd never heard the wizard equivalent of fairy tales.

Before anyone could answer however, Dobby the house-elf appeared and ran to Harry Potter's side, shaking with terror. Someone had tipped Umbridge off.

_She was coming._

* * *

Dumbledore's Army came out unscathed, due solely to Dumbledore taking credit for the group's formation. Professor Dumbledore escaped before he could be taken by the Aurors, but after a Ministry Decree Hogwarts was left with none other than the horrible Professor Umbridge in his stead.

"Dumbledore will be back before long," said Ernie Macmillan confidently on the way back from Herbology after listening to Harry's account of what happened to Dumbledore. "They couldn't keep him away in our second year and they won't be able to this time. The Fat Friar told me…" He dropped his voice conspiratorially, so that Harry, Ron, and Draco had to lean closer to him to hear, "… that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they'd searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her." Ernie smirked. "Apparently she had a right little tantrum…."

"That old bat," Draco scoffed. "Of course she fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office, the stupid, puffed-up, power-crazy old—"

"Now, do you _really_ want to finish that sentence, Granger?" Draco's heart lifted in spite of himself. Hermione's voice had a lilting quality that he'd all but forgotten over the past several months.

Sure enough, Hermione Malfoy had slid out from behind a door, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Her brown eyes were filled with bitterness.

"You better watch yourself, or we'll have to dock points from your houses," she uttered stiffly.

"It's only teachers that can dock points from houses, Malfoy," said Ernie at once.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, the former stepping forward with an evil sneer. "Not now that Umbridge has appointed us to the Inquisitorial Squad."

"That what?" Ron balked.

Hermione answered him. "The Inquisitorial Squad, Weasley." She pointed at a tiny silver "I" just beneath her prefect's badge. "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, handpicked by Professor Umbridge… who, consequently, _do_ have the power to dock points."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded stupidly, as if waiting for Hermione to provide a demonstration, but after several seconds their grins fell into perplexed frowns.

"Aren't you going to take some of their points, 'Mione?" Crabbe glared down at her.

"Of course I was; Don't be silly," she mumbled. "Er – five points from Draco for being rude about our new headmistress, and – five from Weasley for having… your shirt untucked."

She stalked away quickly, followed by a slightly more satisfied Crabbe and Goyle.

"She was bluffing," said Ernie, looking apprehensive. "They can't be allowed to dock points… that would be ridiculous… It would completely undermine the prefect system…"

But Harry, Ron, and Draco had turned automatically toward the giant hourglasses set in niches along the wall behind them, which recorded the House points, watching with dismayed expressions as Gryffindor lost ten points.

* * *

A month later OWL exams were over, but the Golden Trio had no time to relax. Harry had seen a vision of Sirius getting captured by Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. It made no logical sense, but when a friend is in danger – logic tends to fall by the wayside.

So with Luna and Ginny's help they were able to cause a diversion, so Harry could get to Umbridge's fireplace to try and contact Sirius. Unfortunately, Sirius was not at his house, and Umbridge's stealth sensors immediately gave them away.

"You foolish boy," Umbridge seethed, wrenching Harry from the fireplace. "Take his wand."

Draco watched as Hermione Malfoy grabbed the wand from Harry's robes and pocketed it loosely. Fury filled him at the sight of her treachery. The Hermione he had ever cared about was gone. He made no move to protest as she disarmed him of his own wand, his anger so inundating he could barely keep from shaking.

"I want to know why you are in my office," said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching Harry's hair.

After a few unconvincing excuses, other members of the Inquisitorial Squad entered the office, holding Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Draco's face fell… Everything in their plan was falling apart. The minutes passed in a blur as Umbridge tried to coerce the information from Harry, but when it became clear that none of them would talk, Professor Umbridge heaved a resigned sigh.

"Very well," she said, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well… I am left with no alternative… This is more than a matter of school discipline… This is an issue of Ministry security… Yes… yes…"

"You are forcing me, Potter… I do not want to," said Umbridge, moving restlessly on the spot where she stood, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use… I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice…"

Hermione's mouth fell open, struggling to maintain indifference.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.

"NO!" Draco shouted, mind racing. There had to be a way to stop this. Then a stroke of genius hit him as clear as day."We'll just have to tell her the truth, Potter."

"No way!" yelled Harry, staring at Draco in disbelief.

"She's going to _crucio_ the information from you, mate. There's no point." Draco shook his head in defeat.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Come on then, boy."

Draco stared in unflinching seriousness at the professor. "We were looking for Dumbledore. We were supposed to tell him – that it's ready."

"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge. She grabbed Draco's shoulders and shook him slightly. "What's ready, boy?"

Draco pressed his lips together, looking pained at his admission. "The weapon."

* * *

Hermione watched in horror when Umbridge roughly escorted Harry and Draco out of the office. Thinking fast she realized she was inches from Luna Lovegood, who stood passively by her captor. As if she could read Hermione's thoughts, Luna turned ever so slightly until her eyes met with Hermione's.

Hermione's eyes widened, peering down at her pocket where Harry and Draco's wands lay. _Take the wands, Luna. TAKE THE BLOODY WANDS! _Hermione was practically screaming in her mind. A slow smile spread across Luna's lips in understanding, and in a swift motion the blonde Ravenclaw grabbed the wands and began firing hexes at the Inquisitorial Squad.

Chaos broke loose, and the last thing Hermione remembered was a jet of red light hitting her squarely in the chest.

* * *

Draco sat up on his four poster bed, having woken much too early. Voldemort's return was now public, Dumbledore was back at Hogwarts, Harry's godfather was dead… But all Draco could think about for the past four days was Lucius Malfoy's malicious expression at the Ministry of Magic. His thoughts turned to Hermione, and the unanticipated wave of anger sent him to his feet. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night. He needed to clear his head.

Draco was halfway down the steps when he spotted Dumbledore's jovial figure nearing the steps.

"Ah, Draco, out for a walk in the moonlight?" Dumbledore stared knowingly at the boy.

"I have a lot on my mind, sir_._"

Professor Dumbledore simply shrugged. "Yes, I daresay your confrontation with Mr. Malfoy at the Ministry left a lasting impression on your mind – an unsettling one, I gather?"

Draco's mouth fell open slightly. "It's just – Hermione…"

"Come with me, Mr. Granger. I have just been given something I think will help shed some light on your current dilemma."

Draco shook his head, slightly perplexed. How could Dumbledore possibly know about his problems?

"Skittles." The gargoyle stepped aside upon hearing the password, and Draco followed the headmaster into his office.

He was led to a stone basin filled with a cloudy, silver liquid.

"I hope, Draco, that Harry has mentioned this instrument to you before."

Draco nodded. "It's a pensieve, Professor."

"Right you are, Draco. Right you are. So of course, you understand its purpose."

He nodded again. "It's used to review one's memories from a more objective standpoint."

"Indeed, you are correct, Mr. Granger. It just so happens that someone asked me just yesterday to collect a portion of their memories, in hopes that they would convey information that might never come to light otherwise."

Draco shuffled nervously. "Whose are they, sir?"

Dumbledore pulled out a thin vial and proceeded to pour the contents into the basin of the pensieve. "These memories in particular belong to a house-elf – by the name of Dobby."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "But what do these memories have to do with me?"

The headmaster chuckled lightly. "Possibly nothing, Mr. Granger." Then with complete earnestness he continued, "but possibly _everything._"

Draco strode to the pensieve, watching a jumble of memories swirl around. Then, taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, plunging deep into Dobby's memories.

_Hermione sat in an abandoned classroom with Dobby. She cast a silencing charm around the room and locked the door. _

"_Dobby, I know you've been looking after Harry and his friends. Are they all right?"_

_Dobby's eyes widened. "They look to be in good health, Miss Malfoy, in spite of many complaints concerning the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor."_

_Hermione laughed then bit her lip gravely. "Dobby, you mustn't tell anyone I've asked for them. You know what could happen if my father finds out…"_

_Dobby shuddered, fighting the urge to hurt himself for thinking ill of his former master. "Your secret is safe with me, my mistress."_

_A wave of relief washed over Hermione's features. "Please promise me, Dobby, that you'll look after Harry, Ron, and – Draco," she choked slightly at the latter name, "And their friends. Help them any way you can – and keep an eye on Professor Umbridge. I don't trust her…"_

Draco watched in disbelief. Hermione had been on their side – this whole time. Emotion swelled in his chest as another memory surfaced.

"_Dobby is most sorry to hear that your name was defamed in the Quibbler, mistress."_

_Hermione feigned a sad smile. "Don't think on it, Dobby. Crabbe and Goyle have taken me under their wing since the article was published. Everything's progressing according to plan."_

"_And my mistress enjoys their company?" _

"_Merlin, no!" Hermione spat. "But it's better than being imperiused by father, or forced to date Viktor." She began to cry. "But I still can't be with the ones I care about, now can I?"_

_The house-elf frowned, then brightened suddenly. "Let Dobby fetch you some tea, mistress. It just might help."_

_Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes, finally managing a smile. "It's all right, Dobby. I just have to be brave."_

"_And brave my mistress is!" Dobby squeaked. "Pretending to befriend Slytherins, so Harry Potter and his friends can be safe!"_

"_Thanks, Dobby," Hermione grinned, appearing measurably more courageous._

Draco felt his stomach lurch, hardly able to wait for the next memory.

"_Dobby is most surprised to be summoned in such an odd setting." He peered around a darkened broom closet. _

"_I know this is unexpected, Dobby, but I've just heard from Umbridge herself that Harry Potter has been holding secret meetings to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts."_

_Dobby's eyes protruded, and he let out a high-pitched squeak. "The dreadful High Inquisitor is aware of Harry Potter's doings in the Room of Requirement?"_

"_Yes, Dobby," Hermione shook the house-elf firmly. "You've got to warn them. She's on her way there now…"_

Draco swore in astonishment. So _that's_ how Dobby had known to warn them. Another of the house-elf's memories surfaced, and Draco realized it was from just yesterday. He vividly recalled Hermione in those exact clothes…

_Hermione cried in the kitchens where Dobby was attempting to comfort her._

"_Dobby thinks mistress was very heroic to defy the Inquisitorial Squad right under their noses."_

"_I hope Luna doesn't tell anyone what I did. It'll ruin everything." Hermione sniffed, and Dobby handed her a pink and yellow-striped sock to wipe her eyes. "I don't want to go home when school's over," she lamented._

"_There, there, mistress. Dobby knows your mother loves you at least."_

_She let out an unexpected chuckle. "I suppose. But I know what father's planning, Dobby. I don't want to meet … _him_." Hermione shuddered._

"_But mistress's Occlumency lessons with the Severus Snape will help when the time comes. Mistress will be of great aid to the side of good."_

_Hermione swallowed hard. "I'm scared, Dobby."_

"_Dobby believes Harry Potter will prevail in the end, mistress."_

_Hermione beamed through her tears. "I do too."_

Draco nearly fell as he was thrust from the basin, Dobby's memories at an end. He could hardly wrap his mind around this flood of new information.

"She was helping us, Professor," Draco stared quizzically at the headmaster. "This whole time I thought she hated us, and she was trying to protect us."

"At peril of her own standing within the wizarding community, I might add." Dumbledore stood beside Draco, in thoughtful reflection.

"But why would she do that, sir?" Draco's mind spun.

"Perhaps, my boy, that is something _you_ should ask her – when the opportunity presents itself."

Draco thanked the headmaster and stepped out quietly. Dawn was nearly approaching, and his mind was buzzing from these new revelations. And Hermione… she was everywhere in his thoughts. Draco wasn't sure what he would do the next time he saw her.

* * *

There were two lavatories on the Hogwarts Express: one near the back of the train and one near the front. Hermione wanted to catch one last glimpse of the boys she'd secretly grown to care for, so she made her way over to the back one nearest the Gryffindor compartments to wash up. Unfortunately, Draco was nowhere to be seen, and Hermione slinked back toward the Ravenclaws filled with disappointment.

Just as she passed the front lavatory an invisible force pulled her inside the tiny bathroom.

"Who's there?" Hermione withdrew her wand glancing anxiously in every direction.

Suddenly a veiled fabric that Hermione surmised was an invisibility cloak was swept off the figure of an equally anxious Draco Granger.

"Draco, what—"

Before another word could escape from her mouth Draco pulled her into him, planting a long-awaited kiss on her trembling lips. Hermione hesitated at first, overwhelmed with surprise at the suddenness of their encounter, but the tender feel of Draco's mouth on hers soon caused her to abandon reason. Their mouths moved in blissful synchrony, and Draco's hands caressed the backs of Hermione's shoulders. Hermione reacted to the touch enthusiastically, running her fingers through his cropped silvery-blond locks.

At last, Draco pulled back, breathing raggedly. "I've been wanting to do that for ages."

A grin grew on Hermione's lips. "Me too."

He whispered as she leaned into his chest. "I know what you did to help Harry this year, Hermione."

Hermione frowned slightly, suddenly brought back to reality. "Oh Merlin, Draco, we can't do this."

"Why not?" His piercing gaze nearly made Hermione's knees give way.

"Because I have to play my part…" She pushed him away sadly. "… until the time is right."

Draco said nothing, simply leaning in for one last parting kiss. It was delicate and painstaking, and the feel of Hermione's lips lingered on his own.

"Until the time is right," he whispered, hoping that time would come soon.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Next chapter begins to stray from the books a bit more, and Hermione will be in danger! The sunshine and daisies will just have to wait... Hope you liked it so far. :)**


	8. What Lies Beneath the Skin

**I'm thrilled with the feedback I've been getting with favorites, follows, and reviews. Thank you for them! I'm very glad so many of you like this story, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! Oh, and I've neglected my other stories a bit, so I'll need to tend to those before the next chapter for this is posted. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 8: What Lies Beneath the Skin**

Hermione paced stiffly beside her mother and Aunt Bella. While she was grateful that her father had been sentenced to a lifelong stint in Azkaban, the presence of Bellatrix Lestrange was indomitably unnerving.

Narcissa patted her daughter's shoulder. "Don't worry, darling. The Dark Lord is pleased with your willingness to join in your father's stead."

"Of course he's pleased, Cissy." Bellatrix threw her head back with a wild cacophony of laughter. "Hermione's already proven her potential. Eleven O.W.L.s from that bloody school of hers." She rolled her eyes crazily. "But just you wait, my dear—" Bellatrix gave Hermione a swift slap on the arm, causing the girl to jump slightly. "—The Dark Lord will teach you things you couldn't have even dreamed of at your precious little Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded blankly, completely and horrifyingly certain that Aunt Bella was absolutely right. She only hoped her previous year of Occlumency with Professor Snape would be enough to convince the Dark Lord of her… _fealty_. They sat at a table in a large sitting room, awaiting the inevitable entrance of Lord Voldemort himself.

_You can do this, Hermione. Free your mind_. Hermione took a deep cleansing breath and began to close off her thoughts. It was freeing really, to be rid of all the superfluous feelings. She could play the part of humble servant – all she had to do was _focus._

The door swung open, and an ill-favored little man held it open. Then the Dark Lord strode into the room in all his majesty.

"Wormtail, you will find Severus at Spinner's End. Stay with him until you are summoned. Go now."

"Yes, your Lordship." Wormtail whined slightly. Then he scurried away and out of sight.

Hermione found it difficult to get a read on her _new master._ Voldemort's voice was airy but deep, scratchy but smooth. The Dark Lord discerned her thoughts.

"Not what I expected, young Malfoy?" Voldemort laughed, joined in immediately by Bellatrix.

Hermione cleared her throat, barely able to speak, but still managing to concentrate. "Forgive me, my Lord. I knew not what to expect."

"Such honesty, and so little fear I detect from you." Voldemort swept close to Hermione and touched her chin, causing the slightest shudder to emit from her lips. "And such – loyalty. The apple has indeed fallen far from the tree."

It was a muggle reference Hermione didn't know. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I don't understand your meaning."

"It means, young Malfoy, that your father was and is to this day – a self-serving coward—" Narcissa flinched ever so slightly at the remark. "—but I sense a great deal of bravery within you. Perhaps that is why you were not sorted into Slytherin."

Hermione frowned, still fully focused on closing her mind, but able to admit an ounce of truth. "I wanted to be a Slytherin."

"Of course you did. You would have been a fool to desire otherwise." He swept Hermione's smoothly styled hair behind her ear, and for an instant she betrayed a flash of fear, which Voldemort detected.

"Does my touch make you uncomfortable?" He stepped back in amusement.

Hermione decided it would be best to answer truthfully. "I confess I am intimidated by the closeness of your presence, my Lord."

"Such – honesty." Voldemort stepped further back, analyzing the girl with growing intrigue. "And such talent… You will be a great asset to the Death Eaters, Hermione Malfoy."

Bellatrix and Narcissa beamed with pride.

"Thank you." Hermione managed to nearly smile.

Bellatrix squealed with excitement. "Are you ready for the mark, my dear?"

Hermione sat in silence for several seconds before finally nodding. "Yes, I believe I am."

Voldemort flashed a satisfied sneer and grabbed the girl's arm. For a full minute he chanted, pressing his wand into Hermione's skin, but nothing happened and Hermione began to grow nervous. Another minute passed, and Narcissa frowned. A third minute passed and Bellatrix's delight shifted to impatient aggravation.

"How very strange." Finally Voldemort pulled away, reevaluating his thoughts. "It is – such a pity."

"What's a pity?" Narcissa demanded in slight hysterics.

He took Hermione's hand and yanked her roughly from her seat, causing a gasp to cry out from Hermione's lips.

"Do you know how the Dark Mark works, _Hermione Malfoy_?"

Hermione nodded slightly. "It binds us to you, Lord. It's so we can all know when you require our presence."

"That is correct, child." His expression became clouded. "And do you know _how_ exactly you become bound to The Dark Lord?"

Hermione trembled slightly. "The connection of our wizarding blood to yours is what binds the spell, my Lord. Our – blood purity."

"So tell me, young Malfoy, why can't your blood – which should be undoubtedly without blemish – connect to mine?"

Hermione began to shake. "I don't know, my Lord. What can I do to fix it?"

Voldemort inhaled deeply. "You have such devotion. It is a great pity."

Bellatrix twitched with disquiet. "What is wrong with the girl's blood, my Lord?"

"There is simply – no trace of purity in it." He turned to Narcissa and Bellatrix looking most displeased. "That is to say – she is muggle-born."

"No!" Hermione shrieked. "It's not possible!"

Bellatrix rounded on her niece, looking horror-struck. "Blood does not lie, you weaseling, filthy, little mudblood," she hissed as though she'd been burned. Narcissa paled as white as a ghost… and Hermione fainted.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She lay on a squishy cot in a warm, yellow, tiled room. The clanging of metal brought her to her senses – she must be in the kitchen at Hogwarts.

_Hogwarts?_ Hermione puzzled to herself. Suddenly the memories of her meeting with Lord Voldemort flooded her senses.

_Blood does not lie, you weaseling, filthy, little mudblood._

"Oh Merlin." Hermione shot up in her cot, eyes flooding with tears. If she was a muggle-born, then how was she a Malfoy?

Hermione's tears escalated into full-blown hyperventilation. The answer was quite obvious – she _wasn't _a Malfoy. _Then who am I?_ She clutched her blanket, sobbing frantically, when a familiar voice shocked her back to the present.

"My mistress is finally awake!" Dobby cried out gleefully. "Dobby is most pleased Hermione did not suffer at the hands of terrible, dark wizards."

"But—what happened?" Hermione wiped her eyes.

Dobby's voice fell to a squeaky whisper. "Mistress's mother called for Dobby, and Dobby answered! Only to find her most distressed, crying over my mistress's unmoving body." The house-elf let out a piercing wail of tears. "D-Dobby thought the worst."

"It_ is_ the worst, Dobby," Hermione wept. "The Dark Lord told me – I don't have a drop of wizarding blood in my veins."

"But Dobby knows this! Mistress Malfoy informed Dobby and said to get young Malfoy to safety – to get her to Albus Dumbledore!"

Hermione stopped crying. "My mother did that?"

"And rescued you from the most evil Bellatrix Lestrange!" Dobby quivered at the dark witch's name. "Mistress knocked her out cold, even after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had given mistress a direct order not to interfere! Then she apparated you both to another room and begged Dobby to take my young mistress _here!_" Dobby beamed at the last word, and Hermione couldn't help but offer a small smile.

"But what do I do now, Dobby? Surely I can't _stay_ at Hogwarts."

Dobby jumped up eagerly. "But Headmaster has just sent Dobby to fetch you to discuss that very thing!"

Her heart warmed in spite of all the trauma she'd just endured. "I don't know how to thank you, Dobby."

The house-elf beamed happily. "Dobby will always be here to help his true mistress."

Hermione beamed.

* * *

Draco sat at the kitchen table of the Burrow reading a page near the back of the Daily Prophet. Mrs. Weasley noticed the deep furrow in his eyebrows and took it upon herself to discover the reason.

"Draco, dear, I know there are a lot of frightening things going on lately, but you can't trouble yourself with the weight of the world."

"Yeah, that's Harry's job," Ginny Weasley joked, skipping down the steps to sit beside the still-miserable wizard.

"Something's happened," Draco whispered shakily, passing the paper to Ron's mother.

Her eyes fell on the article and she gasped. "The Malfoy girl is missing?"

Draco nodded numbly.

"But it's not like you were friends with her," Ginny retorted blandly.

Draco rounded on the redhead, frenzied with grief. "I _AM_ FRIENDS WITH HER!" He shouted in anguish. "I'M – _MORE _THAN FRIENDS WITH HER!"

Ginny gasped at Draco's confession.

"Oh dear…" Mrs. Weasley breathed in a whisper. "But you don't possibly think that's _why_ she's missing …"

"What other reason could there be?" Draco lamented. "Voldemort could have taken her; she could be dead!" Angry tears stung his eyes, and Mrs. Weasley swept him into her arms.

"Now don't jump to conclusions, Draco. It's her mother searching for her, so she might have run away instead… to _avoid_ danger."

Draco paused at Mrs. Weasley's words. "That makes sense – you could be right," he breathed hopefully.

Mrs. Weasley wrapped him in another hug when Ron came tumbling obliviously down the stairs. "Blimey, what's going on?"

* * *

Hermione paced Dumbledore's office, reading and rereading the article. "Why would my mother be searching for me? It doesn't make sense."

"Miss Malfoy, I think perhaps you should sit down." Dumbledore conjured a cushy chair, and Hermione sat with a frustrated sigh.

"Hermione, you have recently become aware that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are not, in fact, your parents. Narcissa saw to it that you were saved from Voldemort's wrath. Now imagine for a moment that you are Voldemort."

Hermione shuddered.

"What would you do to the follower who had betrayed your demands?"

Hermione gasped, "But he wouldn't… _kill _her, would he?"

Dumbledore acknowledged her theory with a slight nod. "That is a possibility, yes. But I think rather that Voldemort chose to spare her life. You see, as furious as he would have been that you were not the primed and loyal pureblood he expected, the truth remains that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy did indeed have a child."

"But that was _me_. Mum told me how surprised he'd been that I was girl, and how he hated that my hair was just like Aunt Bella's, and… wait. You don't_ think_…" Hermione's mind spun.

"Indeed, Miss Malfoy, _I think_ a great many things, but I am most curious to find what _you're _thinking." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"I think it was definitely me that my mother gave birth to." Hermione bit her lip. "But if there was a spell that could have switched their _real_ child with me before she gave birth, then I suppose…" The plausibility was just too much for Hermione to wrap her mind around. "But that's impossible isn't it?"

Professor Dumbledore listened politely to Hermione and grew somber. "I'm afraid not, Miss Malfoy. There was an empathy potion long ago that gave two people the ability to understand one another's differences. In the mid-fifteenth century, however, it was discovered by a certain Fiona Gamp that the addition of particular ingredients made the potion much more – precarious."

"What do you mean, sir?" Hermione froze with the impending sense of foreboding.

"I do not know the specifics, but it is my understanding that the added ingredients enabled two individuals to physically switch places from the moment of their birth. The potion is called _Intempestivum Victa_, although in earlier centuries it was also known as – _The Changeling Potion_."

Hermione gasped.

"Yes, people's lives were altered for better or worse, having to endure the entirety of someone else's life, only to realize later that it had never been their life at all – it was most distressing."

"Merlin," Hermione exhaled. "But whose life was switched with mine?"

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid, Miss Malfoy, that the answer is something you must discover for yourself."

* * *

Harry arrived at the Burrow two nights later, but Draco wasn't able to fill him in on the details until a week had passed. Ginny was also allowed to hear the conversation, albeit grudgingly, but only after swearing to secrecy.

"You kissed on the train?" Ginny swooned. "Ooh Draco, how romantic."

"Oh yeah—" Ron rolled his eyes. "—Because snogging in the lavatory is every girl's dream."

"Like you would even know." Ginny glared at her brother coldly.

"Strange that Luna didn't say anything though," Harry remarked quietly.

Ron snorted, "She probably forgot the moment it happened."

"Luna is _not_ stupid, Ron," Ginny quipped. "She's in Ravenclaw after all."

"Besides," Draco jumped in. "She was probably a bit preoccupied with Death Eaters and all, mate."

Ron simply grumbled, "…whatever."

"We could ask her about it, you know." Ginny's eyes brightened. "Luna lives just on the other side of the hill."

"That's brilliant," Harry asserted at once. "We should go in the morning. She might even have an idea where Hermione could be now."

Everyone agreed and gradually made their way to bed, but Draco couldn't sleep. He sat up for several minutes and eventually decided to try and find Hermione another way.

"Oi, Harry."

Harry grumbled sleepily from his bunk. "Whaddoyouwant?"

"All right if I borrow Hedwig?"

"Yesshurefine."

Harry rolled over, and Draco grinned. Then grabbing a bit of parchment and his quill, Draco lit the lamp next to his bed and began to write.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I haven't the faintest idea where you are, but I'm hoping Harry's bloody bird is still adept at finding people who are on the run. And you'd better be safe, or I swear I'll kidnap you. Anyway, I hope you're all right. I hope you make it to Hogwarts. Please write back as soon as you can._

_-Draco_

Satisfied with the letter, Draco opened Hedwig's cage, coaxing the reluctant bird from her perch. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and prayed that it would find its way to Hermione.

* * *

Draco, Ron, Ginny, and Harry trekked across the hill after breakfast the next morning, making it to Luna's house before the sun had fully risen. Luna and her father were already outside, the former picking flowers and the latter performing a water charm on various plants.

"What a pleasant surprise!" Luna dashed over to them, giving each of them a light hug. "Have you come to help us fish for plimpies?"

Harry took the lead. "Er – sorry Luna, but we actually need to ask you a few questions about Hermione Malfoy."

"Oh yes. She's actually very nice when the Slytherins aren't around."

"Luna, please." Draco swallowed hesitantly. "Hermione's gone missing. We know she helped you escape from the Inquisitorial Squad last month, and we were hoping you might know what happened to her."

"Oh goodness, no," she stared up at the sky completely unfazed by the subject matter. "But it's fairly obvious _why _she helped us."

"Oh really," Ron rolled his eyes, "and why is that?"

"Because she's in love with Draco of course."

Draco began choking on seemingly nothing, and it took several seconds to regain his composure. "I'm sorry, but how could you possibly know that?"

Luna swayed and smiled. "Oh you know, I see things other people usually don't. And I've seen the way she looks at you when she thinks you're not looking."

Draco flushed at Luna's words. "Yes, but – assuming I already know all that – where do you think Hermione would go if she had to run away from home?"

Luna's eyes widened. "She'd probably go where anyone of us would go if she were in danger... To Hogwarts, of course."

Though their conversation with Luna wasn't entirely fruitful, it gave Draco a renewed sense of hope. Hermione was the brightest witch he'd ever encountered; surely she would have made it safely to Hogwarts.

* * *

Hermione had been well hidden within Hogwarts since her arrival. Very few teachers knew of her stay, and those who did were sworn to secrecy. All the same, the rumor was spread that Dumbledore was helping Hermione Malfoy escape the country, and that she would soon be long gone. So when Professor Dumbledore escorted Hermione to Minerva McGonagall's office two weeks later, Hermione began to wonder for herself if the rumors were true.

"Sit down, Miss Malfoy." Professor McGonagall beckoned her to a rather stoic sitting area and offered her a cup of tea.

"Is Dumbledore really going to have me leave?" Hermione didn't want to bother beating around the bush.

Minerva pursed her lips. "According to every soul in the school, the definitive answer is _yes_."

Hermione frowned, "But – am I really leaving?"

"Yes – and no."

"I don't understand, Professor."

Professor McGonagall finally took her seat across from Hermione, looking severe but determined. "Miss Malfoy, are you familiar with a charm called _Vulticulus Mutus_?"

"Well, yes – I believe so, professor. It's also known as the _Glamour Charm. _It's an incredibly advanced spell, known to permanently alter a person's appearance until an equally powerful countercharm can be produced. There are only a handful of witches or wizards in existence known to have mastered it."

"Right you are, Miss Malfoy. Fortunately for us, it just so happens that Hogwarts is host to a witch who has indeed mastered such a spell."

"So that's what this meeting is about…" Hermione stared at the floor for several seconds. "You're going to change how I look so You-Know-Who won't find me."

"I cannot impress enough how precarious the situation is, Miss Malfoy. You may have escaped from You-Know-Who's clutches once, but the first place he will look for you is Hogwarts. And the moment one of his followers send word that you're here I fear there would be no protecting you." Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a thin, hard line. "I must also warn you that it is imperative that _no one_ discover your identity."

Hermione's heart sank. "No one? No one at all?"

McGonagall frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry, my dear, but from this day forward Hermione Malfoy must never be heard from again."

Hermione's lips quivered. _No more Draco,_ she thought desolately. Finally after nearly a minute, she took a deep breath and sighed sadly, "I supposed there's no time to waste then. I'm – I'm ready."

* * *

**So was Hermione's non-Dark Mark a surprise? I especially liked that twist… although it admittedly would have been quite fun to explore 'Dark Hermione's' side. **

**We're officially breaking away from the **_**One School Year=One Chapter **_**thing. I wonder how long Hermione can go without telling Draco who she really is… Oh, and a bit of trivia: 'vulticulus mutus' means 'Appearance Altered'… or something close to that. Next chapter school will actually start, and Draco will be sad … but not the whole time! Thanks for reading!**


	9. Without Risking It All

**I apologize for the ridiculous delay. I've had a lot of medical issues and went to the hospital twice, but now I think things are on the up and up. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy!**

_Note: Chapter Title is taken from "Body Work" by Morgan Page._

* * *

**Chapter 9: Without Risking It All  
**

Hermione Malfoy spent her last moments in Professor Snape's office, laying on a stiff black cot in unconsciousness. Professor Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall flanked the former Potions professor on each side, looking grave.

"You know of course, Severus, that Miss Malfoy must be kept well hidden. She _must_ arrive by train like the rest of the students."

"I am aware, Headmaster, of the dire need for secrecy in this case. I also suggest a few other precautions you may want to consider. Hermione is at the top of her year. I have no doubt she already knows most, _if not all_, of her required material for the year."

Minerva frowned slightly. "Just what are you suggesting, Severus?"

Professor Snape shot a disdainful sneer at the Transfiguration teacher. "It would be most suspicious for a new student to simply appear at Hogwarts in the same year and with the same caliber of intellect as Miss Malfoy—" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but Minerva listened in rapt silence. "—As such, I believe it would be wise to place her as a seventh year student, perhaps in a new house, so as not to arouse – suspicion."

Professor McGonagall's mouth fell open. "Why, Severus, that – that's perfect. It's absolutely brilliant."

"Quite ingenious, indeed, Severus." Dumbledore's eyes continued to gleam brightly. "To make matters more secure I will send word Madam Maxime, who has agreed to give aid to our efforts in any way she can. There is still, of course, the matter of Miss Malfoy's _name_."

Minerva's uncharacteristic smile quickly faded. "Have you found a suitable family?"

"Indeed I have—" the Headmaster nodded, "—Though I fear one of you will not be pleased with my decision. However, the particular scenario I have planned will allow her greater protection than any other circumstance could possibly offer."

"Then by all means, Albus," Minerva's eyes widened impatiently, "Do fill us in."

"Eileen Prince—" Severus grew alarmed at once. "—had an estranged brother named Edgar. There is little knowledge of how he spent his later years, though it is believed that Edgar lived in a small muggle village in Belgium, where he fathered several illegitimate children. Elinor Jennings, one of his supposed offspring, gave birth to a daughter named Emily. However, both the mother and child died soon after. Records have been changed and memories have been modified. No one who knew the Jennings family will have any doubts that Hermione – or Emily, as she will now be called – is their daughter, and therefore, cousin to Severus Snape."

Professor Snape's features grew taut. "Sir, I must protest. I have no wish to claim Hermione Malfoy as a relative of mine…"

"… But you won't, Severus. From this day forward the girl you see before you will be _Emily Jennings_."

Snape looked as though he'd swallowed something rotten, but he held his tongue as Professor McGonagall stepped forward to perform the elaborate charm.

* * *

Draco stood beside Ron and Harry, waiting to climb aboard the Hogwarts Express, when Terry Boot walked over to them, grinning wildly.

"Hey, did you guys hear about Malfoy?"

Draco's jaw clenched, but fortunately Ron stepped in with a smooth reply. "Yeah, blimey… A lot of strange things happened this summer, didn't they?"

"Yeah, I'm fairly pleased about Hermione being gone though. Padma Patil's replaced her as Prefect – I wonder if she'll sit next to me in the compartment."

Terry Boot went on his merry way, though Harry had to grab the back of Draco's robes to keep his friend from tearing after him.

"Don't worry about it, mate. Dumbledore helped Hermione out of the country. There's no way Voldemort will find her now."

Draco continued to burn in rage. He didn't need to elaborate the agony wrenching at his insides; Harry and Ron both understood.

"Wow, who's that?" Ron suddenly gaped at a girl they'd never seen before. Harry and Draco whipped around to see who Ron was ogling.

The girl looked about their age, fairly tall with dark gray eyes, tanned skin, and silky, black hair.

Draco barely paid the girl a glance but quickly noticed the lurking figure trailing behind. "What's Snape doing with her?"

At that moment they all heard the Professor speak, as if to answer their question.

"Be warned, cousin, if you are sorted into Gryffindor I shall be _most_ disappointed."

The boys exchanged curious glances.

"Like it matters, Severus. It is my _last _year after all." The girl rolled her eyes. "But I happen to favor Gryffindor if you must know…" Then, surprisingly, she began to address the professor in French.

"I like her already," Ron whispered, looking rather glazed.

"She's a seventh year, Ron." Harry shook his head. "You don't stand a chance." Ron just grumbled and joined the others boarding the train.

Draco went straight to the Prefect compartment in silence, ignoring Ron's voice echoing down the aisle. "_There's more of them!" _He didn't care what had caused his friend to shout so unceremoniously. He simply hoped he could get through the train ride without punching the lights out of Terry Boot.

In an effort to distract himself he carefully pulled a folded and worn piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes and began to read the slightly faded words.

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope you're not paying attention to that garbage about my mother searching for me. She was the one to help me escape You-Know-Who and has certainly been imperiused or killed by now. Professor Dumbledore is helping me escape Britain, though I cannot tell you where in case this letter falls into the wrong hands. _

_I do believe the rumors that Harry is 'The Chosen One', and I hope you and Ron will be there to help him defeat the Dark Lord. I will miss you dearly, but I hope you will be able to move forward and forget about me, because I will probably never come back, even if the Dark Lord is killed. Something happened at home that I fear will prevent me from ever returning. I am, to put it simply, a marked woman – just not in the way I had anticipated._

_Tell Harry and even Ron that I will miss them as well. Please don't let the feelings we shared hold you back from becoming who you were always meant to be._

_Farewell,_

_Hermione_

Draco refolded the letter and set it carefully back in his robes. This was already shaping up to be the worst year ever.

* * *

Hermione felt exceedingly odd in front of the group of first years, but Professor Dumbledore looked positively jovial as they entered the Great Hall.

"Before we begin with our standard sorting it is my privilege to introduce our new transfer students from the Beauxbatons Academy. Sixth years - Arielle and Christophe Adams, fourth year - Emmanuel Blishwick, seventh year - Emily Jennings—" Ron nudged Harry eagerly. "—sixth year - Carter Hopkins, and fifth year - Charlotte Wilkes have graciously agreed to relocate to Hogwarts in an effort to maintain new security measures imposed by Madam Maxime. I trust you will all offer each of these new students the utmost respect during their time at Hogwarts."

Murmurs echoed throughout the hall as the sorting began. Arielle was placed in Hufflepuff while her twin was put in Gryffindor. Then Emmanuel received a hearty welcome by the Ravenclaw table upon his sorting. Finally after several more first years were sorted _Emily_ made her way to the hat. It was placed on her head, and Hermione sat stock still, awaiting its decision.

_Back again? I say, you must love this whole sorting process._

Hermione bit her lip, thinking hard, 'Please just put me where I belong.'

_Not intent on Slytherin anymore? So fickle._

'No, please, I just want to be in the _right_ house.'

_The right house, eh? Very well…_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

The applause was thunderous, and Hermione nearly skipped to over to the Gryffindor table.

"I'm Ron," Ron pulled _Emily_ into an overly welcoming hug. "Ron Weasley."

"A Pleasure," Hermione breathed with surprise.

After more sorting Carter Hopkins was placed with Hufflepuff and Charlotte Wilkes with Slytherin, but Hermione hardly noticed. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Draco intently reading a familiar piece of parchment, and it was several seconds before she could wrench her gaze from his despairing countenance. She wasn't sure how she'd be able to keep from telling him the truth, but Dumbledore had made it clear how imperative it was to maintain utmost secrecy, so she'd simply have to try harder.

* * *

"Oh shoot! Quel désastre!"

Draco was walking toward the Great Hall for lunch the next day when he heard Emily shout. Sighing, he jogged over to help.

"Ruining your bag on the first day of classes?" Draco smirked, "Not very clever."

Hermione stiffened at the closeness of his presence but managed to play it off coolly. "Someone used a _diffindo_ charm on it. Look how its split right down the middle."

"But why would someone do that?" Draco scowled.

"Well—" She exhaled noisily as she gathered her belongings, "—I think word got out that Professor Snape is my cousin. It's like people don't like him or something. I can't imagine why…" she snorted sarcastically.

Draco stifled a laugh. "Oh sure, what's not to like?"

_Emily_ grinned, "Perhaps they're simply jealous of his innate sense of fashion. It must be the hair." Her laughter shimmered in light echoes down the corridor. "There now, all fixed. Thanks for helping me—"

"Draco. It's Draco Granger."

Her eyes crinkled oddly upon hearing his name, and she stood up hastily with a demure smirk. "Thank you, _Draco_."

Draco watched her walk away and, for the first time since Hermione's departure, he smiled.

* * *

Hermione sat in Professor Snape's office that evening, rife with stubborn indignation while Snape sneered with disapproval.

"You aced every one of your transfer examinations."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? I couldn't help studying the materials," Hermione pouted.

Professor Snape rounded on the young witch. "Let me be clear. The Dark Lord suspects your whereabouts. If you do not disguise your haughty sense of intellectual superiority he will find you within a fortnight."

Hermione gulped as Severus went on.

"The Dark Lord has come very close to discovering the cause of your misbirth. It could be mere hours before he uncovers the truth of the _Changeling Potion_, and rest assured, he will waste no time endeavoring to seek out the true heir of the Malfoy line and seeking to destroy the muggle-born who knows far too much of his plans."

She trembled slightly. "What should I do?"

The professor growled derisively. "Make. Mistakes."

* * *

Hermione decided that the most efficient way to slack in her school subjects was by inundating herself with research on the so-called _Changeling Potion_. Unfortunately, the library was off limits if she didn't want to blow her cover, so the Room of Requirement Dobby had introduced her to the previous year became the witch's new haven.

"_I need a library with access to ancient and forbidden magic."_ She chanted to herself over and over before the door emerged. She wrenched it open, coughing as the dust swirled past her, and she stepped inside.

Hermione gasped in awe. The Room of Requirement had countless aisles of outdated or out of print wizarding tomes, and she couldn't help but squeak excitedly.

"All right." She took a deep breath. _"I need every book that mentions Intempestivum Victa._"

In the blink of an eye thirty or so dusty volumes appeared on a table before her. She picked up the first book and flipped through it until she found the words.

…_Potions such as the Proprius Provectus and Intempestivum Victa philtres employ the use of stewing haliwinkles over the course of seven days beneath the first week of a lunar cycle. Haliwinkles originate from the veins of…_

Hermione threw down the book and moved on to the next three, which had equally useless information. The fifth volume she picked up seemed a bit more recent than the others. She opened it warily and turned to the indexed passage.

_Fiona Gamp, lesser-known sibling to the great Euripides Gamp, created several potions over the span of her one-hundred and eighteen-year lifespan. These potions include:_

_Alihotsy Draught_  
_Confusing Concoction_  
_Intempestivum Victa –banned_  
_Invisibility Potion – banned_  
_Volubilis Potion_

_Gamp is also noted to have created over one-hundred and fifty effective antidotes to their respectively known poisons, though she has since been discredited as a potioneer for her controversial and illicit collaboration with the Imperium Fairies of the Far East. _

_Gamp singlehandedly eradicated the most powerful known line of fairies in an effort to create Intempestivum Victa, a potion that has only recently been banned due to its severe time-altering effects. The key ingredient, the wings of the ever-coveted nargle wing, has become the subject of much dispute within the wizarding community. Though Gamp's descendents insist the Imperium Fairy lives on and their nargle offspring can be found in mistletoe and other parasitic plants, wizard ecologists have yet to discover any trace of their whereabouts._

Hermione closed the book. "You have got to be joking. There is no way I'm going to believe that nargles exist." But she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they did.

"Oh fine – _I need a book that will tell me the truth about nargles."_

A single hardbound volume materialized atop the other books, and Hermione grasped it firmly in her hands. "Here goes nothing, Hermione." She opened the book to discover an archaic journal whose language she wasn't familiar with, so with a wave of her wand she translated the text to English and began to read.

_Diary of Fiona Ignatia Gamp_

_June 18, 1408_

_My brother has given me passage on one of his expeditions to the East, and I am anxious to catalogue the creatures I have only seen in my books. There are limitless forms of life to discover, and ever more potions to create…_

Hermione flipped through entry after entry, pausing to read about the witch's incredible findings of the fairies and potions she continued to create. She was nearly to the end of the diary when a series of familiar words again caught her eye.

_March 11, 1463_

_With the help of the Imperies I succeeded in perfecting Intempestivum Victa. No longer a simple empathy philtre, I have created a power elixir capable of causing two beings to truly understand one another by living the other's lives. The Imperies have so much power to harness; I cannot allow their strength to be abused by my overly-ambitious brother, so I have discovered a way to modify my Invisibility Potion to extend to these magical creatures. _

So the Imperium Fairies were invisible? Hermione furiously perused the last several pages.

_July 31, 1506_

_To my dear grandson, Theodorus, for ever believing the truth over every ounce of logic thrust at his wits, protect this book, and carry on its wisdom._

_Affectionately, your grandmother, Fiona Lovegood._

"Lovegood?" Hermione gasped, realization hitting her like a ton of nargle-laden bricks.

* * *

**Things are going to get complicated and possibly more AU than ever. Draco doesn't hate muggle-borns and has no knowledge of the vanishing cabinet, and even if Hermione had knowledge of it she wouldn't betray the golden trio at this point. I'm not quite sure what that all means for the rest of the story, but it'll be an interesting ride. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the wait again! -V**


	10. Devil In My Head

**Disclaimer: Lines taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince belong to JK Rowling and are used solely for continuity purposes.**

_Chapter Title taken from "Angel On My Shoulder" by Kaskade_

* * *

**Chapter 10: Devil In My Head**

Professor Snape was in a foul temper the next day when he discovered Harry Potter would not be able to attend the detention he had planned. So when _Emily Jennings _arrived to class five minutes late a cruel sneer formed all too easily on his lips.

"Five points from Gryffindor for tardiness. I don't know how things were done at Beauxbatons, Miss Jennings, but be late again to my class and you can pay for it with a week of detentions."

Wide-eyed, Hermione sat in the nearest available seat, next to a self-assured but handsome-looking blonde.

"Don't worry about it," the boy whispered. "I was only half a minute late and got the same speech." He winked, extending his hand. "Cormac McLaggen. You must be Emily. We Gryffindors have to stick together, you know."

Hermione nodded vaguely, unsure of what to think about her mysterious desk-mate. Following Professor McGonagall's instructions to pursue unfamiliar interests she asked musingly, "So – what is there to do around here? Do you like Quidditch?"

Cormac practically fell out of his seat with enthusiasm, and he proceeded to fill _Emily _in on every spectacular Quidditch moment he'd ever experienced.

Hermione regretted her question at once and soon had to stifle a gag. Even Viktor Krum hadn't been so overtly conceited. Fortunately, Professor Snape appeared behind them before her fellow seventh-year could get too far into the _Hundred Great Saves of Cormac McLaggen._

Smacking McLaggen smartly on his head, Snape deducted another five points and seethed. "If I hear another pompous utterance from your infantile little mind you will spend every Saturday until the end of term scrubbing bedpans in the hospital wing."

Cormac straightened up slightly, winking at _Emily _the moment Snape had his back turned.

Hermione groaned silently to herself. She had a feeling this new _friendship _with Cormac McLaggen was going to complicate things if she didn't take immediate action.

* * *

The next several days were busy with loads of classwork, but Draco felt bombarded with much more than studies. Though Ginny Weasley had sworn her boyfriend, Dean Thomas, to secrecy, the moment word got out that Draco Granger had shared a passionate snogging session with the infamous Hermione Malfoy the news spread like wildfire.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. Dean swore he wouldn't tell." Ginny looked miserable.

"Just shove off," Draco spat. The redhead deserved a bit of misery once in a while. It was all he _ever _felt lately.

"Oi," Ron jumped in at once. "Leave Ginny alone."

Draco's temper flared. "Oh sure, leave the lovely Ginny Weasley alone, even if she can't keep her big, fat mouth shut."

Harry drew his wand assertively. "Back off, Draco, or I swear I'll hex you."

He was about to snap back when the image of Harry and Ron facing him with wands raised caused a vague vision to sift into his memory.

"…_Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."_

Harry lowered his wand. "Draco, what's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick."

Draco stepped back as more of the memory filtered into consciousness.

_A kinder, softer version of the Hermione he knew held tightly to Ron's arm. Her frizzy hair waved crazily around her shoulders._

"_No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it…" Hermione whispered evenly._

"…_If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in."_

Draco clutched his head before a common room full of curious and slightly alarmed Gryffindors. He didn't belong with those pompous, self-assured know-it-alls. He shouldn't have been a Gryffindor at all.

_What? _What was he thinking? He took off through the portrait hole and ran toward the headmaster's office when none other than Severus Snape appeared at the end of the corridor.

"Running in the hallways. Five points from Gryffindor for lack of propriety." His lip curled.

"Please, professor. Something's happening to me. I need to see Professor Dumbledore at once. It's about – Hermione – I think." He gasped for air from his haphazard sprint. "Please, sir."

Snape eyed the boy inscrutably for several seconds until his eyes widened with a seemingly revelatory air. "Malfoy," the professor barely whispered.

"I'm sorry, sir. What was that?" Draco had caught his breath but still appeared shaken and anxious.

"Come with me, Draco." Snape led him curtly toward the Headmaster's office. "Acid Pops," He spoke with annoyance at the juvenile password as the gargoyle sprang to life, ascending swiftly upward.

Dumbledore's eyes fell on Draco and twinkled as the door swung open. "Ah, Severus, to what do I owe the pleasure? I take it, of course, given young Granger's distressed countenance, that this is not a personal visit?"

"Draco has been babbling all sorts of nonsense since I found him in the corridor. I thought perhaps I should escort him to the hospital wing, but he insisted on speaking with you."

"Very good then, Severus. I believe I can take it from here."

The former Potions professor stared meaningfully at the headmaster, as if to convey some unknown but important message. Then he nodded curtly and exited without another word.

Draco sat uncomfortably across from Dumbledore, unsure of how to begin. Fortunately the headmaster took the lead.

"I am sure that your friend Hermione's recent departure has affected you much more deeply than your other classmates. And I daresay the secret of your short-lived relationship has caused quite a stir."

Draco felt an unfamiliar surge of anger toward the headmaster but forced it to the back of his mind. "That's not why I'm here, professor. I had a sort of – vision about her."

"Imagination is a powerful tool of the mind," Dumbledore mused.

Draco couldn't help but grow impatient. "It wasn't like that at all. It was more like – a memory I'd had before – only, I can't remember anything like it ever happening."

"Curious indeed." The headmaster's eyes widened.

"Sir, in this – vision – I called her a muggle-born, a mudblood actually. And then—" Draco inhaled apprehensively. "—Then I called her – _Granger._ Why would I do that?"

The headmaster stared intently at Draco before speaking. "As I said before, imagination is a powerful tool of the mind. In order to discover the true meaning behind these unorthodox memories, I suggest you _imagine_ a world with – not Draco Granger or Hermione Malfoy, but –_ Hermione _Granger and _Draco _Malfoy_._"

"Draco Malfoy?" The words felt cold and hollow escaping his lips. "But that's not possible."

"The realm of possibility extends far beyond the capabilities of mere wizards. The truth remains that _all_ _things are indeed possible._"

Draco felt more lost than ever as he left the headmaster's office. What could extend so far beyond the capability of wizards?

* * *

Luna Lovegood sat obliviously at the Ravenclaw table the next morning, wearing her spectrescopes and reading the latest edition of the Quibbler. Hermione took a deep breath and approached the dotty witch, planning to cement her new identity in a way she hadn't planned or expected.

"May I sit with you?" Hermione beamed with her magically altered grin.

Luna peered at _Emily_ serenely through her brightly colored spectrescopes. "Oh yes, it's a fine day for sitting with strangers."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Can you really see it through those odd glasses?"

"I can see everything you can see. This pair is quite good for seeing wrackspurts as well," Luna sighed dreamily.

Hermione questioned her decision to sit with Luna. "You have – other pairs?"

"I have a pair my mother gave to me before she died," she shrugged with little concern. "I think you'd be quite surprised what they reveal."

Hermione found this difficult to believe but nodded for good measure.

"Would you like to see them?"

"Well…"

"Come with me." Luna was never one to force an issue, so Hermione knew it had to be something that was important to the witch.

"I suppose a walk wouldn't hurt."

Hermione waited for Luna outside the Ravenclaw tower until she came out holding what looked to be an old pair of reading glasses.

"Did you know this is where Ben Franklin got the idea for bifocals?" Luna beamed placidly.

"Er, no, I never knew that."

"We should go to the Room of Requirement so we don't disturb anyone."

It was several seconds before Hermione reacted properly. "Oh… what is the Room of Requirement?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forget you're new here. Only a few people know about it, I suppose." Luna's eyes sparkled mischievously. "It's a room that appears exactly according to the needs of those seeking it."

"It sounds fascinating." Hermione nodded, well aware that they were already quite close to it.

When they reached the seventh floor corridor Luna closed her eyes and walked back and forth three times until a large wooden door appeared. She led _Emily_ into a room filled with mirrors.

"I didn't need quite so many mirrors, but thank you." Luna seemingly addressed the room itself. Then she turned to Hermione, handing her the glasses.

"I've found that there are certain things that should be kept to one's self, but I think I can trust you."

Hermione began to slip on the glassed and shrugged, "This is an odd way of displaying trust, but I…"

She had just glanced up at the mirror and realized her reflection appeared far too familiar. Shorter, with thick, light brown tresses and deep chocolate eyes – a clear image of Hermione, _not_ Emily, gaped with an astonished countenance.

"How is this possible?" Hermione's voice cracked.

"I think it must be made of a similar substance as Professor Moody's glass eye. He could see things too."

Hermione wrenched off the glasses, thrusting them into Luna's loose grasp with shaking hands.

"So it's all true then? About the Nargles and the potion and my life being a complete fraud!" She was nearing hysterics.

"Potion?" Luna looked puzzled for the first time since Hermione decided to sit with her in the Great Hall.

"I'm a muggle-born!" Hermione screamed. "My parents aren't even my real family, because someone in another dimension of time decided to switch my life with someone else's with your ancestor's silly Changeling Potion, and You-Know-Who already knows that I'm muggle-born and is trying to kill me!" She sobbed into her robes.

Luna patted her vaguely on the back. "It's okay to be alone, you know. I do it all the time."

Hermione grew silent for a full minute before whispering. "I want to tell Draco, but Professor Dumbledore says it's absolutely imperative that I not tell him who I really am."

"You know, it's really up to you, although Dumbledore always seems to know far more than anyone else about these things. I wouldn't be surprised if he even knows whose life was switched with yours."

"I thought, perhaps, that you might know, Luna." Hermione stared hopefully.

Luna looked to be in deeper thought than usual. "Well, if I were to ever consider making such a potion, it would probably be between two people who would benefit far more from the switch than without. Two people, possibly enemies, who could potentially be much more than that."

Hermione felt the pit of her stomach drop. "Enemies who could potentially be more? Luna, that would've been Draco and me if we hadn't… Oh, Merlin. Draco is a Malfoy, so that means – I'm a Granger…"

"Perhaps that's why Professor Dumbledore doesn't want Draco to know where you are. He could be the pureblood son of a Death Eater. I'm certain even the headmaster doesn't know what Draco would do if he ever found out…"

* * *

Ron sat nervously in Professor McGonagall's office. "I swear, Professor, I didn't set off those dungbombs. Just because Fred and George…"

"Mister Weasley, I have already apprehended the culprits responsible. You are here because Draco Granger has submitted his resignation as a Gryffindor prefect."

"Wait, what?" Ron's mouth fell open. "Draco's not prefect anymore?"

"That is correct. And Professor Dumbledore has requested that you take his place."

Ron sat in shock. Sure, he and Draco weren't on speaking terms, but to take his position as prefect? "I don't know, professor. It doesn't seem right."

"Mister Weasley, you have been given a chance for status, recognition, and responsibility. If I may be so bold, it would be incredibly foolish to squander this opportunity."

Ron thought it over for several seconds. It did sting a bit that Harry had all the fame and Draco all the smarts. Why shouldn't he have his own bit of glory?

"I'll do it." His confidence boosted at his own words. "I'll become prefect."

* * *

_Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy._

The possibility that Draco was in fact Pureblood and not muggle-born at all baffled Draco to no end. And it meant that his biological father was a convicted Death Eater currently serving a life-sentence in Azkaban.

But he wanted to be absolutely sure, so he'd gone to the owlery and sent a letter to his parents, explaining the situation in as tactful a way as possible and requesting a DNA test at their earliest convenience.

Meanwhile, Draco found distraction in the form of Quidditch. He approached the pitch the morning of Gryffindor team tryouts to see a tall, wiry-haired blond talking it up with Harry.

"Cormac McLaggen, Keeper."

"You didn't try out last year, did you?" asked Harry.

"I was in the hospital wing when they held the trials," said McLaggen, with something of a swagger. "Ate a pound of doxy eggs for a bet."

"Right," said Harry. "Well… if you wait over there…" Harry then caught sight of Draco and nodded curtly.

Draco shuffled his feet on the ground as he approached. "Listen, I was a right prat to Ginny. I reckon I've got some apologies to make."

"I reckon you do," Harry said seriously. Then he patted Draco on the shoulder. "But I'm glad you're here, mate."

It was more difficult to approach Ginny, as she was flanked with Dean and Seamus, but she forgave him without hesitation. Ron on the other hand made it a point to hold a grudge, refusing even to make eye contact.

Two hours later, after many complaints and several tantrums, Harry had chosen three Chasers, and Draco was pleased to be one of them – along with Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell.

Draco, who had outscored and outflown Ginny – albeit barely – took the lead during Keeper tryouts. None of the first five applicants scored more than two points apiece. Finally all that were left were McLaggen and Ron, and Draco could tell that Harry was getting nervous.

When Cormac blocked all five of his shots, Draco couldn't help but notice how Ron looked ready to pass out.

Draco faced his opponent, Ron's anger and irritation still tangible in the air, when strange tune filtered in from the recesses of his mind.

_Weasley cannot save a thing_

_He cannot block a single ring_

Draco stared at Ron feeling perplexed. Here he was with one of his best friends in all of Hogwarts, so why did the memory fill him with such – _loathing?_

_That's why Slytherins all sing_

_Weasley is our King_

Ron did not miss Draco's glaring expression, and a twinge of panic caused adrenaline to surge through his veins. One, two, three, four, five penalties in a row – Ron saved them all.

So Ron and Cormac went again. Ron saved five again, and Draco faced Cormac for another round, expression daunting.

Cormac – like Ron – detected the slightly unhinged glower behind Draco's eyes, but, instead of a goal saving rush of adrenaline, he hesitated, missing his first, second, and third penalty, getting more furious with each shot Draco fired.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with your chaser, Potter?" McLaggen swore when he touched back down to the field before even finishing. "He looked like he was going to hex me clean off the pitch."

"I don't care what Draco's ugly mug looks like. Ron's Keeper, he won it fair and square."

Cormac stalked furiously toward the stands, and as Lavender Brown ran up to Ron to congratulate him, Draco could tell his friend was on cloud nine.

But Draco did not feel as euphoric as the others, no matter how well he had done. The ridiculous chant, _Weasley is our King_, echoed beyond his eardrums, and Draco shook his head vigorously to rid it from his mind.

He glanced up to the stands, spotting Emily Jennings next to Luna Lovegood. He couldn't deny that she was very pretty, smiling brightly in his direction, but everything in his life was too confusing to think about girls – not to mention the fact that he was still grieving over Hermione's departure. Hermione Malfoy – who might actually be Hermione Granger. Draco liked the way it sounded – Hermione Granger.

He was lost in a daydream when Emily appeared before him.

"Oi, Sorry, Emily, I didn't see you there."

Emily smirked, "You didn't see me, standing right in front of your face… Wow, I can totally see why Harry picked you for the house team."

Draco's face flushed slightly. "I was just – lost in thought."

Just then, Cormac grabbed Emily's arm.

"Come on, Em. There's a few friends I want you to meet before Sluggy's dinner tonight. And – oh, it's _you_," he spat in Draco's direction.

Draco blanched, keeping his gaze on Emily. "You're in the Slug Club?"

Emily shrugged. "Professor Slughorn caught me helping Cormac with his charm work. I suppose he was impressed."

"Emily—" Cormac's irritation flared. "—I've got better things to do than watch you chat it up with this riff-raff."

"Then go," Emily replied rather sharply. "I'm not your date."

Cormac glared at Draco, having twice lost the upper hand that afternoon. "Fine," he huffed irritatedly, stalking away from the pitch in a foul temper.

"I don't know how to get rid of him," Emily pouted. "He's like some kind of over-confident leech. Fitting that he's in the _Slug Club._"

Draco laughed at visual, glad to have a reason to smile. It suddenly occurred to him that both times he had smiled since arriving at Hogwarts had been while talking with Emily, and he decided to act impulsively.

"You wouldn't want to sit with me at lunch, would you?"

Emily bit her lip, indecision clear. "I'm sorry, I've actually promised a friend that we'd meet up."

"Oh, right. Well, see you later then." Draco traipsed toward the castle, feeling more confused than ever.

* * *

**Poor Draco and his aggravating subconscious! If you feel like you're seeing loose ends I do have a grand plan to weave everything together, but feel free to let me know since I'm a bit scatterbrained at times. Reviews are not necessary, but I've appreciated everyone's comments so far. The positive ones make me so happy! Thanks for reading. -V**


	11. Misplaced Emotion

**Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I stole the names of the Granger parents from someone else's story, because I liked the names so much. If someone finds the story please let me know so I can credit them! Harry Potter franchise belongs to JK Rowling. Any references directly or indirectly taken from the books are for continuity/entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Misplaced Emotion**

_Dear Mister Granger,_

_We have received your parental DNA analysis in correspondence with Wellington Hospital in London. The results have been retested by a series of healers at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and the results are thus listed below._

_**DNA analysis results from Wellington Hospital – London, England**_

_Hugo Granger is excluded as the biological father of Draco Granger. Probability of Paternity: 0.37%_

_Miranda Granger is excluded as the biological mother of Draco Granger. Probability of Maternity: 1.48%_

_**Substantiated Essence analysis from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries – London, England**_

_Hugo Granger is excluded as the natural father of Draco Granger. Probability of Paternity: 0.000%_

_Miranda Granger is excluded as the natural mother of Draco Granger. Probability of Maternity: 0.000%_

_Due to the results of your analysis, members of the Muggle Liaison Office are working with select healers and doctors from both St. Mungo's and Wellington to ensure that the issue at hand is dealt with as swiftly as possible, at which time you will be informed if your biological parentage can be traced._

_Sincerely,_

_Archibald Weaver_

_Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_

Draco sat across from both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall in a state of numb misery.

"I don't understand… How is any of this even possible?"

The headmaster gazed at Draco without blinking an eye. "It is time, Draco, for you to know the truth. However, be warned that from this point forward we will stray far deeper into legend than you have ever before known." Dumbledore peered at him with a hint of pity. "We received a book three days ago from Hermione Malfoy – an account of the elixir we believe was used to bring about the dilemma you now face."

Draco was handed the dusty volume and proceeded to read Fiona Gamp's journal. He read several sections which Hermione had bookmarked, and for a moment he felt close to her, but it faded as he delved deeper into history of the Changeling Potion.

He closed the book desolately after several minutes. "So it's true then. I'm the son of a Death Eater."

"Biologically, it is true that you almost certainly share a connection with them, but it is your heart, Draco, that truly binds you to others."

"Oh just save it," Draco spat. "It turns out I've been Pureblood all along, and you know exactly how much that counts in the wizarding world. Do you know what Hermione asked me when she woke up from being petrified by the basilisk? She said, _What am I, Draco? What am I? _Like being a muggleborn was the worst possible thing in the world."

Professor McGonagall tried to comfort him. "Draco…"

"Don't try to make this sound any better than it is. I'm the son of a Death Eater, and Hermione's gone for good. Our lives our ruined, because somebody thought it would be a good laugh to switch us at birth."

Professor Dumbledore rose authoritatively. "Draco, I understand that you wish to fully express your rage, but there is rather a more pressing issue at hand – that of your muggle parents."

Draco was completely derailed for several seconds. "What about them?"

"There may yet be agents within the Ministry of Magic whose loyalties still lie with Lord Voldemort. With such a rare an interesting case of a wizard being switched magically at birth it will undoubtedly make the Daily Prophet within a few days time. It is my fear that those who wish to recruit you will try to capture Mr. and Mrs. Granger to gain leverage in any way possible."

Draco's heart sank. He may not have always been on the best of terms with his parents, but he loved them as much as any child knew how to love a parent. "Surely you already have some sort of grand plan," he scoffed in a deadened tone.

Professor McGonagall stepped in. "Everything in your house has been carefully stored, and your parents are currently traveling to a safehouse south of London. They have agreed to have Obliviators erase their memories and send them to an undisclosed location so that your own safety will not be compromised."

"What?" Draco shot to his feet. "They won't even remember me – their own son?" But even in a fit of fury he remembered the cruel truth – he wasn't their son. His whole world seemed to be crashing down at once. "So everything you said about my heart binding me to others was nothing but rubbish. Everyone I've ever cared about is gone. Did you wipe Hermione's memory as well!?"

"Of course not." Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Hermione would have been a much greater target due to her innate knowledge of the You-Know-Who's inner circle. Her knowledge of how to evade the Death Eaters may be all that keeps her alive."

"But I'm never going to see her again. She may as well be dead."

McGonagall huffed with indignation. "Is that really what you wish? To rob Miss Malfoy of any chance of living a full life?"

"Chance at a full life," Draco scoffed sarcastically. "Are you daft? She's a fugitive fleeing for her life."

"In view of the alternative…"

"Alternative? The alternative is that I should have gone with her! I'm as much a part of this as she is, and she's as much of a best mate to me as Harry or Ron ever were. I would have gone with her to the ends of the earth."

This admission stunned Minerva, and Draco took this as a moment to stride quickly from the headmaster's office. He didn't stop when he passed Emily and Luna in the corridor; he didn't stop for Harry and Ron on their way to the Great Hall; he didn't stop for Dean and Ginny snogging along the Grand Staircase. He didn't stop his flight until he reached the seventh floor.

"_I need a place to hide," _he begged feverishly in his mind until a door appeared.

He threw himself inside the Room of Requirement, finally allowing the prideful tears to escape down the sides of his face.

* * *

Hermione didn't understand. She and Draco had been getting on so well together, why was he suddenly behaving so coldly toward her?

"Perhaps it's the pureblood part of him." Luna suggested blithely as they walked into the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Don't be ridiculous, Luna; you're pureblood as well."

Luna shrugged. "Then perhaps it's the Malfoy part of him."

Hermione paused. That seemed much more likely. "You don't think – he couldn't possibly know that he's pureblood – could he?"

"Well – he did run out of Professor Dumbledore's office looking quite distressed yesterday. It is possible that he's discovered at least part of the truth, though my guess would be that he discovered the headmaster's famed collection of hagglenocks."

Hermione blinked in bewilderment. "What – on earth are hagglenocks?"

"They're a breed of miniature woodland creatures who like to drink from the dew of willow leaves and occasionally control your mind. Professor Dumbledore is notorious for his collection of them."

Hermione highly doubted this. "Right… Well – oh bugger, it's Cormac. Hide me!"

"Oi, Emily!" Cormac swaggered over. "Hogsmeade, this weekend. You're coming, right?"

"Oh—" Hermione bit her lip. "—Well, honestly I wasn't planning on…"

"Come on, Jennings. It'll be a blast. I'll show you all the stops."

He looked far too hopeful, and Hermione caved. "All right – but just as friends, you know."

"Of course," Cormac winked and exited the Great Hall in slightly more of a strut than usual.

"What have I done?" Hermione smacked her palm into her forehead.

Luna appeared perfectly serene. "He is quite attractive, I suppose. Perhaps it will distract you from how terribly unbearable his personality is."

Once again, Hermione highly doubted her eccentric friend. "Right…"

* * *

Draco dressed quietly that Saturday, long after Harry and Ron had left. He slipped inaudibly out of the dormitory and common room – proceeding to walk through the corridors in equal silence. He didn't stop when Peeves dropped water balloons at his feet – he simply kept walking with a deadened stare, peering straight ahead. It had been days since he was given the letter revealing his parentage – or lack thereof – and he knew Dumbledore couldn't hold off the papers forever.

Sure enough, when Draco entered the Great Hall a hush fell on many of the students. Some looked as though they felt mildly sorry for him, though the rest ogled him like an exhibit at the zoo.

Grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet from Neville Longbottom, Draco sat, preparing himself for the inevitable. A large picture of himself with Harry and Ron filled the bottom half of the front page. The headline projected boldly:

_**Best Friend of Harry Potter: Not What He Seems?**_

_Switched at birth – a rare muggle phenomenon never before encountered by the wizarding world – until now. Draco Granger, best friend of Harry Potter and Ronald Wallenby, and supposed son of Hugo and Miranda Granger, recently became the subject of much debate at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries – where analysis of the family bore no natural relation whatsoever. _

_Further research shows that Draco was physically borne to Miranda Granger on the night of September 19th, 1979, causing additional dispute among healers and employees of the Ministry of Magic._

"_Clearly there has been foul play," says Senior Administrator, Julian Bagnold of St. Mungo's Spell Division. "We cannot be certain whether it has been the result of an illicit potion or a powerful spell, but we are working 'round the clock to discover the truth."_

_In the meantime there have been no leads as to Draco Granger's true lineage. _

"_You don't understand the complexities involved," Bagnold reiterates. "We don't know whether the boy is pureblood, half-blood, or muggle-born. The amount of manpower it would take to find his true parents is astronomical!"_

_Causing greater distress among investigators is the sudden disappearance of Hugo and Miranda Granger. Investigations show that the couple and all of their belongings disappeared late Tuesday evening. Whereabouts are still unknown._

_Anyone with information regarding possible spells, potions, or other forms of magic potentially used – or any information regarding either of Draco Granger's families are asked to contact Ministry officials at once._

_Meanwhile, rumors about Draco's famed friend, Harry Potter continue to fly…_

Draco slammed the paper on the table and rose, not touching his toast. Glancing vaguely around him he spotted Harry and Ron at the other end of the table. Ron looked penitent, beckoning Draco to join them.

After several seconds Draco turned to join his friends, but before he could take a step he was assaulted with a firm embrace from the all-too familiar girl with silky black hair and silver eyes.

Draco shivered as Emily whispered softly in his ear, "I know these aren't the arms you want around you, but – I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I know you can get through this." She let go as quickly as she held on and dashed away with tears running down her cheeks.

Astonished and slightly puzzled, Draco shook his head lightly and went to join Harry and Ron.

* * *

Cormac had yet to read the paper that morning. All that mattered at that very moment was the fact that he had just seen his date to Hogsmeade embracing Draco Granger – the sixth year who had unwittingly scared the living hell out of him during Quidditch trials. Curiosity and hint of jealousy enflamed him, and he stalked after Draco to confront him.

He was about to approach Harry and his entourage when Harry flicked his wand in the air and muttered an indecipherable word. Without warning Cormac's ears were filled with a faint buzzing, and he had to step back until the sound faded. Once again he tried to approach the trio, but the buzzing returned, and to Cormac's dismay, he realized he couldn't hear a single word they were saying.

Harry tapped a battered copy of an old potion's book, and Ron appeared to laugh wildly, though Cormac could hear none of it. With narrowed eyes he turned to leave, resolved to later discover the truth.

* * *

"… and then there was another flash of light, and I landed on the bed again!" Ron recounted the tale of Harry's latest spell with hearty amusement. "I'm bloody surprised it didn't wake you."

"I've had a bit of trouble falling asleep lately," Draco admitted.

Ron's face straightened up at once. "Hey, I'm sorry about your parents, mate."

"That's not even the half of it." Draco peered around warily. "You're sure no one can hear us?"

"Absolutely," Harry said confidently.

Draco took a deep breath. "Everything that's happened to Hermione and everything happening with me – it's all connected. She's the muggle-born and I'm pureblood. There was some sort of complex potion that switched us at birth – I don't even understand it all, but Dumbledore explained it to me."

Harry and Ron were silent for several seconds.

"Blimey," Ron finally murmured. "So you mean to tell us that you're actually Draco _Malfoy_?"

"Seems that way," Draco shrugged.

A slew of expletives escaped from Ron's lips at that moment, and Draco was glad nobody noticed.

Harry tried shifting the conversation to a lighter topic. "So, the seventh year from Beauxbatons seems to like you."

If anything, Draco suddenly felt _more_ uncomfortable than before. "Yeah – I don't know. She's really cute and funny, but—"

"But she's not Hermione," Harry guessed.

Ron cleared his throat unnecessarily. "Well if you're not interested, then you may as well give one of us a shot. She's bloody cracking."

Harry looked the other way, trying not to roll his eyes.

Draco on the other hand didn't feel the least bit amused. With a sinking sensation in his chest he realized he did have feelings for Emily, and he certainly didn't want one of his best mates going after her.

"Just lay off for a bit. I – might like her, but I've got loads to sort out with everything that happened."

"We get it," Harry said sincerely.

"'Course we do, mate," Ron cut in. "But you're barmy if you reckon the other dozen blokes taking a fancy will be nearly as understanding as we are."

"Oh, shove off, _Wallenby_," Harry joked.

Draco actually felt quite unsettled by Ron's words, though he couldn't work out precisely why it would bother him so much in comparison to everything else going on. Choosing to ignore those particular emotions, he went to work on a piece of toast on Harry's plate that had grown cold.

* * *

Draco continued to try and avoid Emily over the coming weeks, though he found it increasingly difficult. The way she would move and the things she would say filled him with a peculiar sense of wistfulness. He thought perhaps it was him finally getting over Hermione, but every time he thought of Emily she somehow became intertwined with Hermione in his imagination, leaving him confused and frustrated.

Before he knew it the first Quidditch match had arrived, and Draco was grateful to be able to place his focus fully into flying.

The team had never played better. Ron made some truly spectacular saves, while Draco and Ginny scored several goals apiece. Gryffindor, it seemed, could do no wrong. Ron had just made a particularly good save when Draco caught a glimmer of gold at the other end of the pitch. As if by instinct he took off after the snitch, leaving Ginny and Katie Bell behind with perplexed expressions.

"Draco!" Ginny called after him. "The quaffle's this way!"

But Draco didn't hear. Harper, the Slytherin seeker, had just seen the snitch as well, and Draco suddenly knew he had to get it first.

"What's this?" The boy commentating let out a surprised yell. "Gryffindor Chaser, Draco Granger seems to have forgotten what position he plays."

With horror Draco suddenly realized what he was doing, but Harper was right on his tail, and he couldn't let Slytherin get the snitch before Gryffindor. Turning the broom at an angle, Draco slammed into Harper, allowing Harry to sail past and catch the snitch with ease.

"YES!" Harry shouted. "Draco, that was brilliant!"

Cheers roared in the stadium, no one really knowing or caring why Draco Granger had played the part of a seeker for so brief a moment, but Draco felt as though he was drowning in the shouts of the crowd. He was certain he'd just done something Draco _Malfoy _would have done – which made him feel even more disconcerted. If Draco Malfoy had been a seeker, then he wouldn't have been in the same house as Harry – Draco was sure of it. So what house _did_ he belong in? With a sinking feeling he stared the Slytherins, already knowing the answer.

* * *

Hermione felt the excitement buzzing in the air as she entered the Gryffindor common room. She wanted to congratulate Draco on his remarkable Quidditch performance – well, truthfully, she wanted to do much more than that, secrecy be damned. Finally she spotted him coming in through the portrait hole and she rose to make her move, but as she crossed the room her eyes fell on Ron and Lavender Brown, wrapped in a passionate embrace as they snogged without restraint.

It was something Hermione Malfoy would have found hilarious and rather repulsive, but a far-away feeling Hermione didn't recognize overwhelmed her with – jealousy?

_Impossible_, Hermione scolded herself at the ridiculousness. But she couldn't seem to pull her eyes away. And the longer she watched the more real the sense became. Hermione blinked several times. Surely she had no veritable feelings for Ron, but was possible that Hermione _Granger_ had? A tidal wave of emotion suddenly pressed on the edge of her consciousness, but before she could process what it meant, the feelings sifted back into the recesses of her mind as quickly as they came.

Fleeing the common room, Hermione rushed into the first classroom she could find. Bitterly she clutched the fabric of her robes, determined not to cry over something that made absolutely no sense.

Only one thing _was_ certain - the night had not gone at all as planned.

* * *

**This chapter took me forever to write, because everything's getting so complicated, but I hope I did it justice. Just to be clear, Hermione is not getting with Ron. I don't ever ship them. Ever. Lol. Thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. -V**


	12. Mischief Managed

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, etc. I borrowed a couple things for entertainment and continuity purposes only. **

**I am totally blown away at the positive responses I've received, and I really hope I'm still living up to your expectations with this chapter. Thank you all so much! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 12: Mischief Managed**

Hermione sat at a large table in the Room of Requirement holding what appeared to be a thin, convex piece of glass in her hand.

"There, I've finished it!" She cheered. "After weeks of work and research I've successfully multiplied the material in your mother's glasses using Gamp's augmentation theorem and made contact lenses!"

Luna wasn't sure what to make of it as she craned her head sideways. "You say muggles wear these in their eyes? That's very peculiar."

Hermione shook her head with a smile. Hearing Luna call something "peculiar" was almost too much…

"Yes, Draco told me all about them a few years ago. I couldn't leave it alone until I'd learned absolutely everything I could about them."

"Fascinating," Luna breathed. "It's too bad you were only able to make one set."

"Oh, they're not a set, Luna. There's one for each of us. That way we can see normally out of one eye, and see the hidden things through the other eye."

"That's very thorough of you. And very thoughtful." Luna offered a whimsical smile.

"Yes, I admit I never previously believed in nargles or wrackspurts or anything of that sort, but now that I know the history behind it all I'm quite intrigued."

"So is that why you've been avoiding Draco all these weeks?" Luna gave an enlightening nod.

"That has nothing to do with it," Hermione sniffed. "I'm simply attempting to put my mind to use in a way that won't make Professor Snape complain that I'm doing too well in classes." She picked up a glass of water and began taking an unnecessary drink to fill the tangible silence.

Of course, Luna was right on the nose. Since the Quidditch match Hermione had thought that the passing weeks would offer more clarity concerning her new memories, thoughts, and feelings, but the lapse of time only left her feeling more restless and unsure. Professor Dumbledore attributed the extra emotions to fairy mischief. _Fairy mischief… honestly._

"_I am rather of the opinion, Miss Malfoy, that the Imperium Fairies would have found the idea quite amusing indeed – to send a witch or wizard into a parallel dimension of time, yet allowing them to see glimpses of their former lives. As powerful as they are, the fact remains that they are still fairies – mischievous and scheming by nature. They would have delighted in seeing their quarry endure unnecessary distress…"_

"Hermione?" Luna echoed pleasantly. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I'm sorry. What?" Hermione shook her head, taking another sip of her drink.

"I asked if you'd be taking Draco to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party tomorrow night."

Hermione spewed water across the table. "Slughorn's party? Merlin, that's tomorrow?"

"Yes, Harry asked me yesterday as a last resort. Still, it was very kind of him."

"Oh bother, I haven't even thought about it."

Hermione left for dinner that evening thinking about it more than ever. It was obvious that several people were aware that she hadn't yet invited anyone as many of the boys were winking and trying to get her attention. Had they been doing that all week? _Was she only noticing just now?_

"Oh, Merlin…" Hermione groaned.

"Oi, Emily." Cormac made his way coolly to where she sat. "Word is you haven't got a date to Sluggy's party tomorrow night."

"Well, actually I was just…"

"You know, Emily, you and I have a lot in common. We both even love Quidditch—" _As if that weren't the single most obsessive thing Cormac enjoyed…_ but Hermione managed a reasonably enthusiastic nod. "—and we'd make a bloody fit couple if you ask me. So what do you say?" He cocked an eyebrow, and Hermione couldn't help but stare at Cormac in surprise.

"Cormac, I thought we'd already agreed just to be friends."

Cormac's saccharine smile faded. "Well, who is it then? Is it _him?_" He threw his arm in Draco's direction. "Do you honestly mean to tell me that you'd rather go with some sixth year?" Draco, Ron, Harry, and several of their classmates turned to see why Cormac McLaggen's voice suddenly sounded like a Sonorous Charm had just been cast.

Hermione felt herself getting angry. "Cormac, we'd make a terrible couple, and believe it or not, Quidditch is _not_ a sound foundation for a relationship. Besides… I've already asked someone."

Hermione grabbed the first person she could reach at the table, pulling him up beside her.

"Longbottom?" McLaggen scoffed. "You've asked Longbottom to be your date?"

Hermione hesitated. "Yes I have, and if you'll excuse me we have plans to discuss." She dragged Neville as quickly as she could from the Great Hall.

"Did you really ask me?" Neville looked perplexed. "You think I'd remember something like that," he trailed off.

"No, Neville, but I'm asking you now." She pushed him against a corridor wall. "Please, come with me. As friends?"

Neville's eyes widened. "So this isn't some sort of joke? I mean, I've always wanted to go to one of Professor Slughorn's parties."

Hermione thought back to the time she'd hexed him with a leg-locker curse and decided this would be a good way to make amends. "It's not a joke, Neville. I'll meet you by the entrance hall at eight o'clock."

Neville was left in the corridor in a complete daze.

* * *

Cormac was in a foul mood for the rest of the evening. The common room was packed, and he couldn't focus, so he picked up his Charms book and pretended to read while lounging in a scarlet armchair. His back was turned to Harry, Draco, and Ron, just a few feet away. He'd attempted to read the same line in his textbook three times when Ron's raucous chortling distracted him.

"That was a bloody brilliant hex, Harry. Crabbe and Goyle never knew what hit them." He heard him sigh.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Harry. I needed a good laugh today," Draco joined in.

"Don't thank me," Harry grinned, "thank the _Prince_."

Ron chuckled again. "All right, all right, bloody Half-blood Prince was brilliant. I wish I'd gotten his book instead of you."

"Would you keep it down?" Harry whispered in hushed tones.

Then without warning Cormac's ears were filled with the same buzzing noise as before. He turned his head, and sure enough, Harry, Ron, and Draco were still talking animatedly.

So Harry's clever hexes and spells came from a book belonging to a _Half-Blood Prince_? He recalled Harry tapping the cover of an old potions book, but as he peered over now, Harry appeared to be perusing a pristine copy.

Cormac peered at the scarlet curtains framing the window. He'd get to the bottom of this Potions book mystery, and he knew exactly when he'd do it…

* * *

The next evening Hermione and Luna helped each other get ready for The Slug Club Party in the Room of Requirement. Luna wore spangled silver robes, and Hermione, a deep emerald.

"Oh no," Hermione gasped into the mirror.

"What's the matter? You look quite lovely."

"Luna, I've just put the contact lens in. Look!"

Sure enough, where Hermione had placed the lens, the silver in her eyes became a deep, chocolaty brown.

"They show hidden things, Luna. Everyone will see my real eye color."

"I could transfigure my other eye brown. It could be a trend," Luna suggested brightly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Luna. I'll simply have to find a time when no one is around to try it out."

In spite of Luna's blindingly shiny robes, she looked quite lovely, and Hermione was pleased with her own look as well – though she yearned for the wavy locks that once framed her face and the deep brown eyes she'd just barely caught a glimpse of.

Luna and Hermione met Harry and Neville in the Entrance Hall, where Neville did a double take.

"Wow, Emily, you look – fantastic."

Harry must have realized it was his turn to offer compliments, swinging around toward Luna. "Er, Luna, you look quite nice as well." The girls thanked them and began walking with their dates.

As they walked toward Slughorn's office Hermione slowed beside Harry. "Harry, I was wondering – Did Draco get an invite per chance?"

Harry's eyes widened with surprise. "Sorry, I don't think so."

"Oh, all right." Hermione glanced at Neville, who was keenly aware of their conversation. "Well, right then." She took Neville's arm and walked a bit faster as they approached the party.

It was a dazzling affair, with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling. Hermione gasped, recognizing the woodland fairies fluttering inside like brilliant specks of light. She might not have cared if she hadn't recently discovered how intertwined her current life was to their not-so-distant relatives.

They'd spent the better part of an hour with general mingling and small talk when Hermione's eyes fell on Cormac, currently snogging someone she didn't recognize beneath the mistletoe.

_Mistletoe._ Hermione recalled having read that nargles could frequently be found in their leaves. Perhaps there would be their fully grown counterparts around them as well.

"Neville, I need a bit of fresh air." Hermione absentmindedly touched his arm, still staring at the mistletoe.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Neville looked uncertain.

"No… no, I should be back in a few minutes."

She exited quickly, looking for a hallway with the plant. Finally she found one near the Great Hall, which was thankfully deserted. Slipping in her magical contact lens she peered upwards and gasped, seeing much more than she ever anticipated.

A cluster of magnificent golden fairies zipped around the plant, nibbling at the leaves, which naturally replenished upon each bite. How had she never noticed that before?

One the smaller fairies, which Hermione took to be female spotted the raven-haired witch and giggled playfully. How had Hermione never heard them before? Had she been so narrow-minded that she hadn't even been able to utilize her other senses to detect their presence?

The female fairy noticed Hermione's unbroken stare and flitted anxiously to her fellow fairies. Then buzzing directly in front of Hermione she tilted her head. Hermione gradually tilted her head as well, causing several animated squeaks to emit from above them.

The fairy raised her palm in Hermione's direction, and Hermione lifted her finger, touching the fairy's palm.

Instantly a flash of memories rushed into Hermione's consciousness.

"_Happy birthday, sweetheart." Muggle parents, and family birthday parties with books and dental supplies._

"_I'm aware that it may come as a shock to both of you, but your daughter, Hermione does indeed possess the gift of magic…"_

Buried memories from a past life at Hogwarts began to sift their way in.

"_Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one. Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see then."_

Tears filled Hermione's eyes as she was inundated with recollections of friendship with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley – and flickers of Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin, filtered in her mind like a television set… something she'd never seen but somehow understood.

"_Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"_

_Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first - SMACK!_

_She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again._

_"Don't you __dare__ call Hagrid pathetic you foul—you evil—"_

_"Hermione!" said Ron weakly and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back._

_"Get __off__ Ron!"_

_Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered._

_"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons._

_"__Hermione__!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed."_

Back in the present, golden sparks flew from the fairy's hand, and a whirlwind of glimmer began to extend toward Hermione. Her hair began to wave and lighten, but the moment she realized what was happening, Hermione broke contact, the glamour whipping back into form like a sling-shot.

"_That's enough!_" Hermione screamed. "You – you stay away from me!"

She took off down the hallway as fast as she could dash, passing Neville, who had gone to look for her after several minutes of her absence.

"Emily, wait!" He stood there stunned as she quickly vanished from sight. "Blimey, was it really _that bad_ a date?"

* * *

Ron and Draco were engaged in a rousing game of chess when Neville burst in through the portrait hole.

"He's back early," Ron snorted. "Oi, Neville, lousy date?" he added with smirk.

Draco peered up, instantly curious.

"Have you two seen Emily? I saw her a few minutes ago, crying, like she'd just seen a ghost. I thought she might've come this way."

"You don't think McLaggen did something?" Draco tensed.

"Nah, he got there just as Emily took off. It was something outside the party that's got her all riled up."

"We'll keep an eye out," Ron assured Neville as he left to continue his search.

"That's odd," Draco said. "I wonder why McLaggen was so late."

Ron had other plans in mind. "Who knows? But I reckon we could find Emily easily enough. You reckon Harry would mind if we borrow the old Marauder's map?"

Draco's willing grin was answer enough, and they raced up to the dormitory. Ron pulled the map from Harry's cluttered trunk. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Draco lit his wand as they opened up the parchment.

"Well, she's not at the party. Looks like Neville's gotten himself roped into talking with that old hag, Trelawney – poor bloke." Ron perused the contents of the map. "Not in the common room, not in the bathrooms as far as I can – _BLOODY HELL._"

"What is it?" Draco leaned over to view the map's contents.

"Mc-McGonagall," Ron stuttered, pointing at the Professor's office.

Draco might have thought his heart had completely stopped if it hadn't begun pounding so heavily. There, beside Professor McGonagall, in bold, black letters, next to a tiny set of furiously pacing footsteps, read the name: _Hermione Malfoy._

"It can't be." He stood up, rushing to the door.

"Draco, wait, we don't know what this means." Ron hesitated, map still in hand.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco roared. "It means Hermione's _here_, _RIGHT NOW, _and I'm going to find her."

* * *

"Miss Malfoy, I'm certain this is all very overwhelming indeed, but there's simply nothing I can do to remove these supposedly invisible creatures from the premises."

"What about Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione countered. "Surely as headmaster…"

"I'm afraid the headmaster is currently away, though I can assure you without reasonable doubt that Professor Dumbledore would agree that the Imperium Fairies, if they are indeed real, would be better left alone."

Hermione began to speak when small sphere began whirring wildly on Minerva's desk. "Is – that a sneakoscope, professor?"

Professor McGonagall whirled around, rapping Hermione on the head with her wand. Immediately she felt the sensation of an egg being crack atop her head, and Hermione knew she'd just been disillusioned.

"Whatever you do, Miss Malfoy, do not move a muscle."

At that moment Draco and Ron burst in – Ron holding a thick piece of parchment in hand.

"Where is she?" Draco shouted furiously.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't the faintest idea what you're blathering on about."

"We saw Hermione in your office," Draco cried out.

"And, pray tell, Mister Granger, just _how _did you _see_ Miss Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes widened, and Ron immediately attempted to obscure the thick parchment from view.

"I see. Mister Weasley, give me the parchment."

Gulping sheepishly, Ron handed the paper to Professor McGonagall, who barely glanced at it before locking it securely in her desk.

"Do you two honestly believe that you would be helping Miss Malfoy by revealing that I occasionally meet with her on Hogwarts grounds? The more people are aware of her presence, the more likely it is that she will be captured and killed by You-Know-Who's followers."

"I just wanted to see her," Draco faltered, breaking Hermione's heart as she watched.

"As noble as your actions were, Mister Granger, possessing a magical map of this sort is a threat to the security of this school. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and don't let me see either of you in this office again."

"Harry's going to kill us." Ron muttered just as the door closed behind them.

* * *

"YOU WHAT?" Harry bellowed. "McGonagall's got the Marauder's Map?"

"We were just trying to find Emily," Ron said defensively. "Who would've guessed Hermione would be on it?"

It took Harry several minutes to calm down. "You're sure it was blank though?"

"Of course, mate," Ron spoke up at once. "It was downright daft of us to take it. We'll get it back somehow."

"Absolutely," Draco agreed quietly.

Seeing his friend's distraught countenance calmed him somewhat, and Harry sighed, "I hadn't really used it at all this term." Packed away in his trunk, it was simply something that stood as a reminder of his Godfather, Sirius. "But you two had better swear _never_ to do anything like that again."

Neville came in shortly after. "Well, I had a decent time, though I never did find Emily. Even Professor Trelawney offered to help, but all she came up with was that Emily was from a faraway land shrouded in mystery – what does that even mean?"

"Well, she _is_ from France," Ron shrugged. "How much more mysterious can you get?"

"Hey, that reminds me." Harry turned to Draco. "Emily asked if you were coming to Slughorn's Party – seemed pretty put-out when I said you hadn't gotten an invite – no offense, Neville."

Neville batted his hand vaguely in their direction as he dressed for bed.

"Well, why in the bloody hell didn't she ask Draco?" Ron scrunched his face in perplexity. "_Women_…"

At that remark Neville actually turned to join the conversation. "She wasn't actually planning on asking me, you know. She told me herself that she grabbed the first guy she could reach to get Cormac off her back. I didn't really mind. I finally got to go to a Slug Club Party," he sighed before stepping out of the dormitory toward the bathrooms.

Draco's head fell in his hands. "I like her – but… Hermione did a number on me. I can't seem to quit her – I don't _want _to quit her."

"You don't have to quit her, mate. But you may as well be snogging Emily in the meantime."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Lovely, Ron. It's no wonder you're such a hit with the ladies."

"Oh, shut up, Harry." Ron stifled a cheeky grin. "I'm just saying – Draco ought to be enjoying himself instead of moping around all the time."

Harry rolled his eyes, opening his trunk to do a bit of reading – courtesy of the Half-blood Prince.

"Oh Merlin's beard… thanks a lot, you two. You lot completely trashed my trunk."

Ron's hand flew up in the air. "Oi, don't blame us for being such a bloody slob. Your trunk was like that when we opened it!"

Harry processed Ron's words in less than a second before attacking his trunk feverishly. "No," he breathed as realization sunk in. "No, somebody nicked it!" he yelled furiously.

"Oi, nicked what?" Draco peered up from his bed.

Harry swore, throwing his other books onto the floor. "Somebody's taken my Potion's book. Somebody else knows about the Half-blood Prince."

* * *

**AAAAAH! Someone's taken Harry's book. It was Cormac – in case you were lost. Okay, okay, big question I'm undecided on. Draco doesn't have any clue Emily is Hermione, but he likes her. SHOULD THEY MAKE OUT? Or should he hold out and be true to his heart. Aww. So sappy. I might cry.**

**Okay, so Christmas break is coming at Hogwarts. I've got some big stuff planned for next term, so hold on to your hats! Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying it so far! -V**


	13. I Solemnly Swear

**So, I've started to feel like the storyline is dragging, so I decided to skip Christmas break bonding at the Burrow and the beginning of the term just to get things moving. And I really wanted the fairy to bug the crap out of Hermione, but it just didn't go with the other stuff. BLAH! Thanks for your reviews. I had so much trouble writing this chapter, and they helped A LOT. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JK Rowlings'. She is amazing. The End.**

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**Chapter 13: I Solemnly Swear…**

"_So this Indy fellow tries to switch out a bag of sand with some ridiculous gold person's face, miscalculates the weight, and then this giant boulder rolls after him as he runs out of a tunnel, just to run into the native tribe waiting for him at the bottom?" Harry was trying to make sure he'd gotten all the details straight._

"_Exactly. That's why he was forced to surrender the idol to Belloq in the first place," Draco added._

_Ron made a guttural scoffing noise as he rolled his eyes. "You mean to tell us that he did all that without _any_ magic – no wand, no invisibility cloak, not even a sneakoscope?" Draco nodded with a smirk. "Blimey – the things muggles come up with…"_

Harry hadn't gotten to see many films at the Dursley's, so he enjoyed Draco's synopses of his all-time favorite movies, and Raiders of the Lost Ark had especially stuck out to him. Ever since Draco and Ron had lost the Marauder's Map he was determined to get it back, but this wasn't just some quick pinch from Filch's office; this was Minerva McGonagall, and Harry knew it would take nothing less than an ingeniously decisive strategy to win it back.

Since the new term had started Harry had felt the absence of two things only – his potions book… and that map. Their search for the Half-blood Prince's book was ongoing, but still utterly fruitless. And whoever had it in their possession was sneaking hexes all over the place. Random students were hoisted into the air, and Draco's toes had been hit with the toenail growth hex at least three times, but Harry still couldn't discover the caster. So, to take the edge of his frustration Harry began to pore over ways attain the map instead.

It was late February when Harry remembered that specific plot detail from Raider's of the Lost Ark. What if Indiana Jones _had_ been able to use magic? What if _Harry_ could transfigure a scrap of parchment to look like the Marauder's Map _so precisely _that McGonagall would never be able to tell the difference?

With Draco's transfiguration expertise they were able to make a spot-on likeness of the parchment, but the trio still found themselves running into more obstacles. Firstly, Professor McGonagall was always too close to her office to be able to so much as being able to think about breaking into her office without her secrecy sensors alerting her at once. Harry knew he'd have to wait for a moment when she was away from the castle grounds or at least reasonably distracted. He would have tried on Ron's birthday during the second Hogsmeade trip, but Harry had gotten sidetracked when Ron accidentally consumed a love potion – that, incidentally, had been meant for Harry. The next potential chance he'd have would be during Apparition Testing at the end of April. But there was still one other problem Harry hadn't anticipated – Crabbe and Goyle.

Since the Christmas holidays had ended, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had started tailing the trio everywhere – to the Great Hall, between classes, even on their way to Gryffindor common room! And as they followed, Harry had the sneaking suspicion it was Draco they were staring at. Harry knew it looked suspicious if you pieced all the evidence together – Hermione not being a Malfoy, Draco not actually a Granger. Only a handful of people knew the truth of the precarious circumstances behind Hermione's disappearance, but if Voldemort suspected that Draco was the true Malfoy heir then Harry's friend was in deep trouble.

As for the Potions book, Harry tried to listen to the other students' conversations to discover more, but whoever had the Half Blood Prince's book was either hiding it very well or wasn't taking Potions at all – which made Harry all the more alarmed… And they couldn't use the Muffliato spell to talk about it in case someone nearby knew the countercharm. Harry finally had to admit that the book was dangerous – and though he didn't know what it was for, Harry was positive that the Half Blood Prince's curse, labeled '_for enemies'_ would not be nearly as much of a laugh as the levitation spell or toenail-growth hex had been.

* * *

Hermione had made it a point to avoid Cormac since their spat before Christmas, but near the end of March she spotted him sitting desolately outside the Great Hall, and her compassionate side got the better of her.

"Cormac, are you all right?" She sat beside him along a window ledge.

He peered up at her, holding a rolled-up piece of parchment, with an expression of anguished grief she never would have thought possible from McLaggen. "Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione frowned. She didn't want to give him any false hope, but he really did look miserable.

"What happened, Cormac? I'm still your friend, you know."

He peered up at her, blind with agony.

"Cormac – wh-what happened?"

He pressed his eyes closed, swallowing in sorrow. "Everyone knows our family's close with Scrimgeour's. We even go hunting together during the holidays—" It was the first time McLaggen had ever mentioned the fact with anything less than a bragging tone. "—Over Christmas break the Minister received an anonymous owl, telling him if he didn't find the true heir of Malfoy that he'd make the Minister suffer the same fate the Malfoys were suffering."

Hermione tried to appear detached with great difficulty. "But – the heir – that's Hermione Malfoy, right?"

"That's what I thought—" Cormac shook his head. "—but the sender seemed to think that the girl was actually adopted or muggle-born or something, and the true heir was being kept secret by the ministry."

Hermione blanched. "But how would the Minister of Magic suffer? He doesn't have children."

Cormac snapped his head up, looking more pained and tormented than ever. "I told you our families were close, Emily—" A maddened tear creased around his eyes. "—Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic – he's my baby sister's godfather."

"_No!"_ Hermione gasped with understanding. He began sobbing uncontrollably, and Hermione wrapped her arms around as securely around his thick frame as she could. "Cormac, I'm so sorry."

"She's gone," His rough howling echoed through the corridor, "Jess is gone. And unless we find whoever the heir is – they're going to kill her."

Hermione began crying her own tears, and she continued to comfort McLaggen over the course of the next few hours. _What would happen to Cormac's sister?_ _What would happen to Draco? _More angry tears escaped down her cheeks. Why was this happening?

* * *

Three days later Draco sat at in the Great Hall eating lunch in typical brooding silence. Crabbe and Goyle were staring at him with more intensity than usual, but it suited Draco fine. Today was the day Harry was going to retrieve the Marauder's Map and get a memory from Professor Slughorn for the headmaster– do or die – and Draco and Ron had agreed to keep the goons distracted during Apparition Testing in Hogsmeade.

"Phew, I'm starving." Ron plopped down beside him. "You seen Harry yet?"

"I was right behind you, Ron," Harry smirked. "You know, you tend to have a bit of a one-track mind when it comes to food." He patted Ron on the back, laughing.

Draco peered over at Emily, who was sitting – not next to Luna like he had expected, but beside Cormac McLaggen of all people. _So they must have reconciled,_ he thought glumly. He knew he probably should have pursued Emily when he had the chance, but, every time he got close to doing so, he'd think of Hermione so forcefully that he'd end up running off, leaving Emily alone, confused, hurt, and occasionally in tears. Still, the thought of her with Cormac McLaggen made his blood boil.

"Come on, Draco, we'd better get going." Ron brought him back to reality. "Good luck with Slughorn and McGonagall, Harry."

Draco rose, following Ron away from the Great Hall, but not before shooting a glare at McLaggen, which the would-be Keeper returned with a snarl.

* * *

Harry knew he had a lot to accomplish before the day was out, so he grudgingly decided that now was finally the time to use his Felix Felicis potion. He drank half of the bottle, saving the last twelve hours worth in case he somehow couldn't accomplish everything he'd hoped to pull off throughout the course of the day.

He got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence – and took off immediately toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

He dashed merrily up to his dormitory, promptly swapping out his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making _with Ron's. Peeking in the inside cover he noticed the name read _Roonil Wazlib_, and he laughed heartily. Yes, this was definitely the right course of action.

Next, he grabbed his invisibility cloak. He didn't know why he'd need such a thing in broad daylight, but he felt undeniably good about it as he slipped it over himself.

Getting through the portrait hole was simple; as he approached it, Ginny and Dean Thomas came through it, and Harry was able to slip between them. As he did so, he brushed accidentally against Ginny.

"_Don't _push me, please, Dean," she said, sounding annoyed. "You're always doing that, I can get through perfectly well on my own…."

The portrait swung closed behind Harry, but not before he had heard Dean make an angry retort… His feeling of elation increasing, he suddenly felt the urge to leave for potions class twenty minutes early and turned sharply in that direction.

He was just passing the Transfiguration corridor when he felt prompted to creep up behind a suit of armor. With a chuckle, Harry thought it would be quite a laugh to pound it loudly.

As he did so, Peeves the Poltergeist, who had apparently been slumbering inside roused with a shriek and began zooming into anything and everything in the corridor.

"What in the world!" Professor McGonagall heard the racket and hastened toward the hurtling suit of armor, leaving the door to her office open.

Harry took a look at the open door, laughing with glee as Professor McGonagall rushed down the corridor after Peeves. And What Luck! The marauders map was on her desk, next to several secrecy sensors and what looked like a magnifying glass. Harry grinned – McGonagall had been trying to reveal the secrets of the Marauder's Map. With a shrug he swapped the real map with the look alike and darted out, knowing the Professor wouldn't be figuring out its secrets for a long time.

Harry decided that on his way to Potions class he'd take a detour near the Great Hall. Just as he rounded the corner he slammed right into Cormac McLaggen, causing the contents of both of their bags to spill all over the ground.

"Whoa, sorry about that, mate!" Harry smiled jovially as he bent over to help retrieve their belongings.

Two copies of Advanced Potion-Making lay in front of him, and, though he vaguely thought his book had fallen to the left, Harry felt like he should take the book on the right. _Well, perhaps Felix knew better than he did. _So he scooped up the book on the right while Cormac was scurrying after an ink bottle. Harry picked up his other contents at record speed, taking off long before Cormac had retrieved all of his own items, and he grinned lightheartedly as he approached the dungeons.

Harry arrived to Potions five minutes early, spotting Professor Slughorn as he read the newspaper. He immediately felt the pull toward the Potions Master.

"Professor Slughorn, what is that you're reading?"

"Oh, this?" The Professor's eyes brightened. "It's tomorrow's issue of _The Daily Prophet_, my boy! I've got a few former students who work there, you know. And every so often they'll send me an early printing. Although I admit I haven't been one to read the front page lately. Dark stuff, Harry, dark indeed. But I do fancy a crossword puzzle from time to time."

"I love crossword puzzles," said Harry, who had never done a crossword puzzle in his life. "Do you think – when you're done, that I might have a go at it?"

"Why, Harry, my boy, I would be delighted. I haven't time to do tonight's puzzle anyhow, so how about you just take it. You can return it to me tomorrow."

"Thank you, professor." Harry tucked the paper in his robes and turned to take a seat, feeling that now was _not_ the time to ask about the memory Dumbledore needed.

Harry and Ernie MacMillan were the only two in Potions as class began.

"Too young to Apparate just yet?" said Slughorn genially. "Not turned seventeen yet?"

They shook their heads.

Harry took out his Potions book, feeling better about it than he had all term. Professor Slughorn had been disappointed in his mediocre potion work since he'd lost the Half-blood Prince's copy of the book, but somehow Harry knew today would be different. Harry opened the book, and to his astonishment and delight, it was The Half-blood Prince's copy!

Harry did not worry about who had taken it, because he felt it would be counter-productive to concocting his potion, which he did with such precision and skill that Professor Slughorn might have jumped up with glee had he not been quite so heavy.

"Harry, my boy, so glad to see you're back in action! Of course, I'm sure you've had a lot on your mind – even the best potioneers go through their ruts every now and again…"

Harry smiled widely. Today was not a day for _ruts. _Today was a day for _luck_ – and at the moment, Harry had no shortage of it.

* * *

Ron and Draco sat up that night in their dormitory.

"You reckon Harry will be back soon?" Ron leaned back on his pillows, arms behind his head.

"Who knows. He's a bloody idiot – going to visit Hagrid at this time of night." Draco shook his head, tossing a ball repeatedly at the top of his bed, always catching it just before hitting his face.

"You think he got the map?"

"Dunno…"

Just then Harry walked in, looking exhausted but satisfied after a long day.

"Harry, what happened?" Ron sat up at once.

"What are you two both doing up?" Harry smirked slightly.

"Well, every time I started dozing off, Draco would ask me a bloody question!" Ron muttered, mildly irritated.

"Oh, come off it," Draco spat. "You were the one who kept asking every five minutes, '_When's Harry coming back? Do you think he'll be back soon?'_"

"Shut up," Ron growled, before turning to Harry. "We both want to know what happened."

Harry cast a Muffliato spell for good measure. "I'll tell you more about it tomorrow, but I did get Slughorn's memory – and I got loads of other things as well."

"Did you get the map?" Draco was aching to see if Hermione was somewhere within the castle walls.

"I did," Harry grinned, "and that's not all I got."

Harry pulled his copy of Advanced Potion making out of his bag.

"You didn't!" Ron gasped. "Where was it?"

"I don't know. I took the Felix Felicis, came here, grabbed Ron's book—" Ron let out a complaining '_hey!' _"—Sorry, Ron. And I went to Potions class right after I bumped into…" Harry stiffened. How could he have been so stupid? The answer was painfully obvious. "McLaggen."

"What?" Draco glared.

"McLaggen. I must've picked up the Half-blood Prince's book instead of Ron's after I bumped into him coming out of the Great Hall."

Draco's insides felt like a chalkboard getting scraped by a cat's claws. "So he's the git who's been hexing me." Anger rippled through his insides.

Ron tried to change the subject. "Well, what's that other bundle you had in your robes?"

Harry pulled out the paper. "Oh, this? It's an early printing of tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_. Don't know why, but I asked for it from Professor Slughorn. I suppose I'd better do that crossword puzzle thing he was going on about if I…"

Harry stopped dead, distracting Draco momentarily from his rage.

"No!" Harry shouted. "How could they have found out?"

"Found out what?" Ron tensed.

Harry did not look at Ron. Instead, he turned to Draco. "I think you've got a big problem, mate." He tossed the paper in front of Draco, expression grim. "There was definitely a reason _Felix_ had me grab this."

"Yeah—" Draco stared at the headline in mute horror. "—So I'd have time to pack."

* * *

_**Harry Potter's Best Mate… or Death Eater in Disguise?**_

_Draco Granger – a sharp-witted, intelligent muggle-born with a promising future and more promising friends. The wizarding world mourned with him after the disappearance of his long-time girlfriend, Hermione Malfoy. They shared his pains upon discovering that he was supernaturally switched at birth, and that the muggles from whom he supposedly descended were never his real parents at all. But new findings have surfaced that will force the wizarding world to see Draco Granger in a new light._

_An anonymous tip to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and injuries recently aroused suspicions when the mysterious sender made a troubling declaration. _

_The letter asserted, "We believe without question that Hermione Malfoy is the witch who was switched with Draco Granger at birth. We have ascertained through means of our own that the girl is muggle-born. Furthermore, it is clear that Draco Granger bears an undeniable resemblance to the currently incarcerated Lucius Malfoy…"_

_The letter went on to claim that it was Narcissa's legal right to take the boy as he was not yet seventeen, and that she had already been robbed of too much of her family._

"_We weren't going to perform the tests at all," claims Julian Bagnold, head of St. Mungo's Spell Division. "Who would want to find out they've been a Death Eater's son all along?"_

_Unfortunately for Bagnold, the tests were conducted, with viable evidence that Draco Granger was without a doubt, the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy._

_This knowledge has caused many a raised eyebrow, and even more questions._

_Has Draco Granger known all along that he was a Malfoy? Was _he_ the one responsible for the disappearances of Hugo and Miranda Granger as well as that of Hermione Malfoy? And more importantly, has he been masquerading as the best friend of Harry Potter all these years only to plot The Chosen One's untimely demise? Only time will tell. _

Cormac set his paper down with great difficulty, trying not to rip its pages.

Emily slammed the paper down. "I hate that Skeeter woman," she seethed. "I hate her so much. Long-time girlfriend... What rubbish."

Cormac said nothing, struggling to contain the incensed rage. _It was Draco._ He was visibly absent from the breakfast table, but that wouldn't stop Cormac from finding him.

"Cormac, what's wrong? What are you going to do?" Emily looked worried, as she should be. He was teetering on the edge of madness.

"Do you know why I lost Gryffindor Keeper tryouts, Emily?"

Emily shook her head. "How can you possibly think of Quidditch at a time like this?"

"It was Draco," he growled. "While we were up there, away from everyone else, I was actually frightened for my life."

She inhaled sharply. "I don't believe you."

Cormac grabbed her by the collar of her robes. "_He looked like he was about to KILL ME, Emily. He killed Hermione, and he killed his parents, and he's the reason my sister's gone."_

Emily grabbed her wand, jabbing it in his gut, and he let go of her with a grunt.

"Draco never did those things, Cormac. I understand you're scared and worried about your sister, but Draco is a good person. It wasn't him."

He clenched his fists, staring at Emily with a menacing glare that made her step back, swallowing fearfully. "But he _is_ the reason Jess is gone, and I'm going to find Draco and get her back."

"And hand him over to Death Eaters?" Tears were now streaming down Emily's face. "You can't, Cormac, I won't let you."

Professor McGonagall suddenly approached, looking like a hawk about to descend on her prey. "Mister McLaggen, do I need to escort you to my office?"

He inhaled deeply, calming himself enough to answer painstakingly, "No, Professor, I was just leaving…"

He offered one last glare toward the table before stalking away toward the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

**BIG stuff next chapter. I cried writing some of it. I might cry now! … Thanks for reading! I hope you were riveted. ;) -V**


	14. That I am up to No Good

**I am so, so sorry for how long it has taken me to update. If you consult my profile you'll see that I'm pregnant and have been incredibly sick, and I've had trouble finishing up this chapter. I finally think I've found a direction I'm happy with, so I hope you enjoy.**

_A/N: When you've perused the previous chapters and are ready to read this one, I would recommend listening to "The Killing of Dumbledore" followed by "Drink of Despair" from the Half-Blood Prince Soundtrack on repeat 1 while reading this chapter. It really adds to the mood and the way I felt when I was writing it._

* * *

**Chapter 14: …That I am up to No Good.**

Draco watched from a corner of the Great Hall as finished up some pumpkin juice, careful not to spill it on Harry's invisibility cloak.

"_You can't, Cormac, I won't let you."_

So Emily still chose Draco over Cormac. That realization filled Draco with a curious sense of satisfaction. She ran from the Great Hall, and Draco quickly followed.

He found her crying in an empty second floor corridor. He was about to say something when she swatted at the air without warning.

"How many times have I told you to leave me alone?" Emily flicked her hand at seemingly nothing.

Draco thought perhaps she was going mad – _she did hang out with Luna after all – _but then he could have sworn, out of the corner of his eye he detected a seemingly invisible force tugging at a thick, black lock of hair.

"Fine! But I can't see you yet. Let me put in my contact lens."

Emily began to put what looked like a thin, convex piece of glass in her eye, and he shrank back into the shadows near a large pillar. _Could she really see invisible things with the lens? _Draco didn't want to take that chance. Still, his curiosity was riveted, and he wanted to know just what invisible creature she might be talking to.

"All right, all right, I can see you now." _Did one of her eyes suddenly look darker?_

Emily suddenly looked in Draco's direction, seemingly at Draco himself. "What are you pointing at? There's nothing over there, fairy."

Draco crouched further back behind the pillar. _So it was a fairy. A fairy who definitely knew he was there._

"No, absolutely not," Emily shook her head briskly. "I told you already, if someone sees me like that then I might be killed; Draco might be killed. It'll put everyone in danger."

_Draco?_ He couldn't help but inch further from the shadows to see what would possibly make things so dangerous for him.

* * *

Harry and Ron stepped out of the Great Hall soon after Cormac and Emily had taken off.

"We'd better find Draco and let him know about Cormac in case he missed it."

Harry dragged Ron away from the crowd and pulled out the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He tapped the map with his wand and waited as every room and corridor and person in the castle came into view.

"There, he's on the second floor, right next to—"

"No way!" Ron interrupted. "He found her?"

Harry pointed at a nearby corridor. "And it looks like Cormac's on his way to meet them. Come on, if we hurry we can head him off." He cleared the map with a tap of his wand and tucked it securely in his robes.

They ran without stopping until they reached the corridor. Draco was nowhere in sight, and the only other person was…

"Emily?" Harry breathed in shock. "No, that's not possible."

Emily suddenly swung in their direction. "Who's there?" she tensed.

Harry stepped forward, holding the map. "All this time? All along it was _you_, and you couldn't be bothered to tell us – to tell _Draco_?"

She hesitated. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He held up the blank parchment furiously. "The map doesn't lie, Hermione."

"Hermione?" Draco choked, emerging visibly from behind a pillar. He looked like he was about to break from grief and astonishment. "It's you?"

She looked up desolately, holding her finger up in the air at seemingly nothing, but sparks of gold flew around her finger, and there was no mistaking that she was definitely touching something. A glittery dust swirled around her finger, which immediately cooled in color. Her silken, black hair transformed into springy, light brown waves, and her face lightened and altered until there was no mistaking.

"I wanted to tell you, Draco, but it wasn't safe. I—"

Whatever she'd planned to say, Harry never heard. Draco rushed at her with such force, planting his lips on hers with such ferocity that Harry had to look away. As he did so, he spotted another figure emerging from the shadows.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Harry and Ron's wands flew out of their hands, several feet away, and Cormac McLaggen stepped into view, looking livid. Suddenly Harry felt weighed down by dozens of invisible ropes, and he realized that Cormac had just nonverbally cast the Impediment jinx on Ron and himself.

"So this is why you always defended Granger?" He spat at Hermione, shaking his head. "Are you both working for _him_ then?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Cormac," Hermione clutched Draco's hand behind her back. "You have no idea how dangerous it is for you to be a part of this. Go – before you get hurt."

Cormac shook angrily. "_He's the reason my sister was taken! He has to pay!"_

He fired a hex, which Draco quickly deflected, and soon Cormac and Draco were firing so many jinxes and spells that there movements were more like blurs.

But Cormac was angrier and faster, and with a burst of light, Draco's wand flew out of his hand.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

* * *

Draco closed his eyes, bracing for the curse to hit him full force. Instead he felt a dense, warm pressure push against his chest, followed by a quiet gasp.

Draco's eyes flew open as Hermione fell into his arms. _No. _

Blood sprayed from her torso across the hall, and for several seconds he could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears.

_No._

_Not Hermione._

Cormac looked completely horrorstruck as Draco raised his head, blind with rage, but Hermione's rough gasps brought his attention back downward.

"Hermione—" Draco peered down with frenzied agony, touching her hair and face. "—Hermione, why did you – why would you—" …_It was supposed to be me…_

Screams echoed in the hall as a cluster suddenly appeared on their way from the Great Hall.

"_Somebody help me, PLEASE!" _Draco shouted into the gathering crowd. Hermione's grip was slackening by the second.

Miraculously, Professor Snape appeared the corridor, and without hesitation he flew to Hermione's side, kneeling over her bloodied, frail frame. Tracing his wand over the deep wound Cormac's curse had made, Snape muttered a songlike incantation over and over. After his third time performing the countercurse, he half-lifted Hermione into a standing position.

"You need the hospital wing… Come…."

Draco watched as Professor Snape carried Hermione away – then he rounded on Cormac with a fury no one was expecting.

"_You did this." _ Draco lunged maniacally toward Cormac, who stood petrified against a pillar. "_I'LL KILL YOU!"_

* * *

Harry inched across the floor, fighting to throw off the Impediment jinx. He was nearly to his wand as Draco turned his gaze toward McLaggen.

"_I'LL KILL YOU!"_

Draco raised his wand, crying out, _"CRUC—", _but Harry had finally reached his wand, shouting _"Expelliarmus!"_ before his friend could finish.

The wand flew into Harry's hand, and Draco stared at him with such a force of loathing that Harry was suddenly grateful that his best friend was wandless. He ended the spell holding Ron and himself down and stood warily.

"Draco, you need to calm down. Hermione's going to fine; you saw what Snape did."

Ron stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Draco, mate, it's going to be fine."

"Shove it, Weaselby," Draco snapped his head up with a scowl. "If I wanted your imbecilic opinion – I would've asked."

_Weaselby? _Harry was too shocked to even blink.

Draco suddenly shook his head roughly, as if he'd just come to his senses. "What did I just – _Hermione_, I need to see Hermione." Then he grabbed his wand from Harry's surprised grasp and broke through the confused crowd.

Harry peered after him feeling utterly bewildered when he caught a glimpse of Crabbe and Goyle in deep discussion, sneering furtively. _Draco was in greater trouble than he realized._

* * *

Hermione blinked, peering around a dusty room that smelled of stale doxy droppings.

"Professor Snape?" She propped herself up onto her elbows. "Where are we? Why aren't we in the hospital wing?"

"Going to the hospital wing was of no consequence, Miss Malfoy. I am perfectly capable of healing a dark curse."

"But – why are we here?"

Snape grimaced slightly. "As soon as word gets out that _Emily Jennings _is Hermione Malfoy, the Dark Lord will undoubtedly see my part. I housed and protected you from capture, and I would expect nothing less than a cruel and painful death after such betrayal."

"I'm sorry, Professor…"

"Do not waste your time sulking about, Miss Malfoy. What's done is done."

Hermione sat up, feeling stiff but healed. "So where are we then?"

"In the lowest of circumstances, but – for the time being at least – we are safe. That is to say – we are currently in hiding at The Order of the Phoenix."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I've heard of this place."

"Yes, undoubtedly Bellatrix would have informed you how it had been overrun with muggle-lovers and filth."

She turned to Snape sharply. "They're not going to get Draco – are they, Professor?"

"I'm afraid that is out of my hands, Miss Malfoy."

* * *

"What do you mean, _SHE'S NOT HERE_?" Draco stood at the entrance of the hospital wing, glaring at Madam Pomfrey. He'd been denied entrance for several minutes to suddenly be told Hermione wasn't even there. It seemed more than a little suspicious.

Professor McGonagall passed through the door, looking sympathetic. "Draco, you must understand that there are things at work beyond your capacity to understand—"

"Why are you constantly treating me like I'm some sort of hapless invalid? I think I understand a fair bit more about Hermione than you think, Professor, and I know the _last _thing she needs is to be trapped on the run with _Severus Snape_," Draco sneered at the thought. He turned to run, shoving anyone and everything out of his way as he fled through the castle, McGonagall's voice echoing after him.

He'd just passed the bathrooms on the first floor when a familiar silhouette emerged in the corridor.

"Get out of my way, Harry," he growled with as much venom as he'd ever felt in his life.

"Not until you tell me what you're on about." Harry stood, wand at the ready. "You almost used an unforgiveable on McLaggen; don't think Ron and I didn't notice."

"And I'll use it on you if you don't get out of my way, Potter."

Harry's face contorted with disbelief. "Is this because of that article in the Daily Prophet? Draco, we've been best mates for over six years."

"_My entire life has been a lie, Harry,_" Draco seethed. "Whatever parallel dimension I'm supposed to be in where I'm a Malfoy, _we were NEVER friends. I HATED YOU. And I hated…_Hermione." His voice dropped to a whisper, lanced with agony at the admission.

"How do you know all this?" Harry's wand remained raised with suspicion.

"_I don't BLOODY know!_" He threw his hands in the air wildly. "Ever since I found out about all this I keep getting flashes of another life – Draco Malfoy's life."

Harry's wand lowered slightly. "Then Hermione – she would have been… I don't understand. If everything you're telling me is true, then why risk so much for Hermione now?"

"_I DON'T KNOW!_" How could Draco possibly make Harry understand? He and Hermione were connected somehow. "But you need to get out of my way, Potter." Draco's wand flicked up sharply toward his best friend.

"I'm not going to let you go off and get yourself into _more _trouble." Harry crouched to fire a jinx.

"THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH!" A woman's sharp voice echoed across the hall. She stepped toward the two boys, an expression of anticipation mingled with curiosity.

Draco stared in horror at the waifish woman. "You're – you're Hermione's mother." His voice broke slightly, edged with fear.

"No, Draco—" The woman's lips curled into a wicked grin as she approached. "—I'm _your_ mother, and it's time to come home."

* * *

**I know I'm the worst. I finally come back after a long hiatus and end the chapter with a cliffhanger. I'm going to try really hard to get back on track with this, but like I said at the beginning of the chapter sometimes I am so sick that it's incapacitating. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what directions you'd like to this to go! -V**


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Harry Potter, Mystery, Romance