Under A Clouded Sun

Chapter Three: Teardrop On The Fire

By Arianrhod

When Hermione woke on Tuesday morning she found, to her surprise, that her shoulders ached. Looking down, she saw a dark red mark ran over her left shoulder, across the top of her chest and ended in five projections that curved around her right shoulder. Then her sleep-fuddled brain remembered. The lake, the door, water the colour of moon light, Malfoy gripping her body tightly. Hermione sank back on to her pillows, the weight of yesterday, the excitement, the fear and the disappointment, was still a bitter-sweet after-taste in her mouth.

* * *

"Harry. Come on, wake up, Harry."

Harry forced his eyes open to find Ron shaking him gently by the shoulder. He felt surprisingly fresh and his first thought was that he had slept for days.

"What day is it?" he mumbled.

Ron looked concerned, "Are you OK, Harry? It's Tuesday. You know, the day after Monday."

Harry shook his head, still a bit groggy, but the relief of having finally got a decent night's sleep made him feel wonderful. He felt alive again.

He smiled at Ron, "Thanks for the sarcasm. I'm fine."

"Well, hurry up then. The others have already gone down for breakfast. We'll be late for morning lessons if you're not careful."

"Alright, just give me a minute." Harry vaulted out of bed and began to root around in his trunk for clean clothes. Ron sat down on the end of the bed, while Harry dashed back and forth. He was glad Harry felt better, his friend had been looking so tired for days, but he hadn't felt it was his place to ask. He smiled, he could almost see Ginny shaking her head and saying, "Men!" in an exasperated tone.

"Did you hear? Ginny got a letter from mum yesterday. Bill and Grace are getting married," he called to Harry as the other boy ran through on his way to the bathroom.

"Um, yeah, I think Ginny might of mentioned it." Harry said, uneasy at the mention of the evening before and the state Ginny had found him in. He hoped she had not told Ron or Hermione about the Waking Charms. As he spoke he realised that he sounded shifty. He hoped Ron didn't get the wrong idea.

Years of his mother's nagging had affected Ron and he automatically began to straighten Harry's bed sheets as he waited for Harry to come back. Something smooth and silky seemed to flow out and onto the floor, Ron bent to pick it up. It was a silk scarf, gold and white, painted with birds in flight. He recognised it. Ginny's scarf. What was Ginny's scarf doing in Harry's bed?

Harry came back in to find Ron staring motionless, Ginny's scarf in his hand, staring at it incredulously.

"Um, Ron. I can explain."

"Then explain."

"Ginny came into talk to me last night which is when she realised I was tired because the key was sapping my energy. She must have told you. I was already in bed and she brought me some Dreamless Sleep potion. She leant over to give it to me and her scarf must have fallen off."

Ron smiled, he was aware that Harry loved his little sister dearly, perhaps always had, deep down. But he did trust him. And that was why it was so hard to tell him what she had done.

"Urr, Harry? You gave the key to Ginny, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she was so worried about the harm it was doing you that... remember that she's extra sensitive to these things because of the business with the diary.."

"Where's this leading, Ron?" Harry's voice suspicious.

"She gave it to Dumbledore."

* * *

"Right, so we need to work out how to get it back." Harry's voice was firm with decision. Ginny didn't dare argue. But Ron and Hermione exchanged exasperated glances.

"Yes, but the key is in Dumbledore's Office," said Ron slowly, as though explaining the concept to a half-wit. "We can hardly walking into the headmaster's office and steal from him, can we?" He looked pleadingly at Hermione and Ginny.

"Of course n-" Ginny began, but Harry looked at her from his armchair by the fire and she stopped, looking away, not wanting to anger him more. Ron, seated in the opposite chair, frowned at him but Ginny motioned for him to let it drop.

They were sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room after classes on Tuesday, trying to decide their next move. Ron and Hermione had agreed with Ginny's action when she had explained the damage that the key was doing to Harry, but he himself was still annoyed at having the mystery curtailed.

"Maybe we can't steal it. But at least we can go and ask for it back," Harry said.

"He'll never let us have it," Ron argued.

Harry didn't blink. "Then we'll steal it," he said.

Ron looked genuinely shocked. Hermione sighed. "Harry, you're not being sensible. We can't steal from Dumbledore."

"You don't have to come." Harry's voice was flat. Hermione hated it when he was so blinkered, because it combined with his natural determination to make a dangerous mix.

"Why don't you just wait until Dumbledore has removed the dark charms from it?"

"That will take ages. You remember how long it took when they were checking my Firebolt in third year."

"That was because they were looking for the charms. They already know that there are dark charms affecting it from Ginny. It won't take more then a couple of days, I've read all about it." Hermione was starting to get exasperated.

"We haven't got a couple of days."

"We could ask Malfoy for more time."

"What? And have him gloat at me? I won't give Malfoy the satisfaction of having us ask him for anything." Harry's face was tight, she knew he wouldn't be budged on that point.

Here Ron cut in. "He's right, we'll just have to go and ask Dumbledore for it tonight."

Hermione nodded, not convinced, another idea forming in her mind, an idea Ron and Harry would hate. She looked down again to where she was sitting at the table beside Ginny. She was surrounded by what looked like an ice flow of books and papers, ever spreading, ever threatening Ginny's potions homework. Luckily, Ginny was not remotely interested in her Potions homework and was in fact engaged in doodling cats all over the a piece scrap parchment.

Hermione had in fact just finished translating the runes over the door and there was no doubt, this was the door the key opened. There was also a curious passage, but she kept that quiet, there was no point firing the other's excitement until they had the key back. If they ever did.

* * *

Hermione tried to catch Draco's eye all the way through dinner. She needed to talk to him but knew the others would be horrified if they knew what she was doing.

After they had finished she sent her friends up with their fellow Gryffindors and stayed behind under the pretext of asking Professor Vector about an extra Arithmancy assignment. She had to wait almost fifteen minute but just as she was about to give up, he came.

Draco was leaving the hall, the centre of a crowd of Slytherins, flanked by his normal henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. He was looking behind him, laughing at something that Blaise Zabini had said. Hermione had minute to wonder how he could always be the centre of the crowd, its heart, its focus, and yet always seem separate and strangely alone. Then he saw her.

Draco's eyes flicked to her for a moment then returned to his cronies. Hermione watched, puzzled then amused by the way he handled them. Within minutes he had shooed them down to the dungeons, none conscious for a second that he was no longer with them as he had got each involved in new conversation. Blaise Zabini looked back once, her big, dark green eyes fixed on him, but then Malcolm Baddock smiled at her and she turned her back on Draco, flicking her long, dark hair.

And so Draco was left standing there, at the top of the stairs, poised, alert and alone. For a brief and infuriating moment Hermione felt afraid of him, the bruise from the day before aching, but then he smiled his smug, self-obsessed and charming smile, and she remembered why she'd come.

"I need to speak to you, Malfoy."

"So I guessed," he drawled. "What do you want, Granger?"

"Our deal. I can't meet you on Thursday."

Draco's eyes went icy and sharp. "Why not?"

"We," she took a deep breath. "We don't have the key at the moment."

"Where is it?" Draco's eyes felt like they were boring into her.

Hermione had to look away, hating herself for it. Why am I telling him this? She wondered. She didn't know, but she did know that somehow she didn't have much choice. She looked up at him again. He was charged with some indescribable energy, his grey eyes blazing, his almost silver hair falling away those eyes, his pale skin seeming almost translucent. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"We'll have it back soon, but we need more time. We need another few days." She hated the way her voice came out, weak and feeble.

"I asked where it was, Granger." His voice was flat.

"And it's none of you're business, Malfoy," she said, finding the anger she had temporarily misplaced.

"You've had a week as it is. I can't give you more time. It's Thursday or nothing."

Then Hermione did something she had thought she would never do, something she knew Harry and Ron would never believe. She asked him nicely. "Please(,)" she asked, quietly. Then more angrily and desperately, "Please, Malfoy."

This cracked his still mask. He smiled his beautiful smile, evidently amused by her show of emotion. For a moment she thought he'd change his mind. Then he let his face drop, like switching off a light, and he looked at her blankly.

"Thursday," he said and turned on his heel. Hermione watched him go down the stairs to the dungeon, hating him more than ever. Now they would have to steal the key back because they didn't have time to do as Hermione had argued earlier and wait for Dumbledore to return the key having stripped it of its dark charms.

She glared at Malfoy's retreating back. Slimy git, she thought furiously. The way he distained everyone, his friends and enemies alike, made her blood boil. He thinks we're all the same and he's different, that there's him and then underneath, there's everyone else.

Hating him, she turned and stalked off to the Common Room to find Harry and Ron.

* * *

They slipped along the shadowy corridor. There had been some argument as to whether Ginny should accompany them on this (as Ron put it) insane venture. He and Hermione had tried to persuade Harry against the errand but he was at his most stubborn. And of course, neither of them would let him go alone.

All three had argued that Ginny should not come because there would not be enough room under the invisibility cloak. This had made her laugh. She had been sneaking around Hogwarts for six years without the cloak and, unlike the trio, had never been caught. She was one of Fred and George's star pupils in that field.

And so now they made their way down the shadowy corridors. Hermione, Ron and Harry walking close under the cloak with Ginny slinking along, level with them in the shadows. Ron looked at her, amazed. She was almost as invisible as they were, and far more silent. He could not believe he had never wondered how normal Hogwarts trouble makers pursued their business. I'm the brother of the legendary Fred and George Weasley, he thought. How can I not have wondered? But he hadn't and neither had Harry and Hermione. Now he wondered how many other students had received tutoring from Fred and George or from other sources. He had always assumed they were the only ones who could move around the school at night and undetected. Maybe he was wrong.

They stopped near the ugly, stone gargoyle which Harry remembered hid the doorway to Dumbledore's office because they heard voices. Harry looked sideways at Ginny. He regretted losing his temper with her now, just as he had regretted losing it with Hermione in their third year and he regretted it for the same reason, both had done what they had to protect him. Having never known the over-protective concern a parent lavishes on their child, Harry still sometimes had difficulty with the idea of people doing things that annoyed him to help him. Despite the attentions of Hermione, the Weasley family and Sirius, Harry often found it difficult to comprehend that someone actually cared for his safety.

Ginny glanced sideways at him and he smiled, he realised he hadn't even thanked her for helping him and then keeping his secret the night before. He made a mental note to make it up to her at the first chance he got.

The gargoyle sprang back and the sources of the voices were revealed as Professor McGonagall walked out, close in conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Harry grinned at Ron, their timing was impeccable. But Hermione felt her stomach turn over, if Dumbledore wasn't at home then there wasn't even going to be the slimmest chance they could get the key by a legitimate means.

They slipped behind the Professors and up the steps as silently as shadows, the wall sliding closed below them. They paused at the top of the stairs, Harry, Ron and Hermione, shrugging out from under the stifling cover of the invisibility cloak. Harry set his hand on the brass door handle so that he was looking almost eye-to-eye with the griffin-shaped knocker. It appeared to be scowling down its beak at him with a look a haughty disapproval. He tore his eyes away from it and looked at the others, he was aware they all had strong misgivings about this but would follow him anyway. He hoped their faith wasn't misplaced. Slowly he leaned his weight on the door handle and pushed it open. It slid open silently, leading into the dark interior of Dumbledore's office.

Harry stood their a moment as his eyes adjusted to the gloom and the others filed in behind him. Slowly, he became aware that they weren't alone, there was someone else in here, someone sitting at the desk.

A light glowed into life, Harry recognised it instantly as a wand light. It shone on the lined face of its holder, on his shining hair, on his twinkling eyes. Dumbledore. Harry gasped.

"Harry , I thought you'd be along soon. Oh, and Ron, Ginny and Hermione too, do come in all of you. Take a seat." Dumbledore had a sweeping gesture with his free had, indicating four chairs set out before his desk as though four pupils sneaking into his office where he was sitting in the dark was the most natural thing in the world.

"But how.. you were.. weren't you?" Spluttered Harry. Hermione gave him a sharp look and gently pushed him into a chair. She took a chair herself and said politely, "What I think he means, Professor, is that we thought we saw you as we came up and we know that no-one can apparate or dissipate within the school grounds and so we were surprised to see you."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly and shook his head, clearly indicating that he would not explain that trick to them. He flicked his wand to in the direction of the fire place and it lit immediately. He extinguished his wand, then said, "I can guess why you came to see me. I believe you might have come for this." He produced the key and held it up so that it glittered in the fire light. "Am I right?"

All four nodded. Dumbledore smiled again and much to the surprise of all said, "Well you can have it back." He leant forward and placed it gently in Harry's unresisting hand, closing the fingers around it. His eyes twinkled merrily. So Harry asked, "Was it not dangerous then, Professor?"

Dumbledore's face went suddenly very solemn. "It was very dangerous, Harry. You are very, very lucky that Ginny recognised the dark charms on it. It would have sapped everything from you, Harry, your strength, your will, your character. It would have killed you." These last five words dropped into the listening silence like rocks into a well. Harry looked at Ginny and he hoped that his eyes told the regret and gratitude he was feeling.

"But, why are you returning it to him, then, Professor?" asked Hermione, unable to keep quiet under Dumbledore's coaxing glance.

"Ahh, but you see, Harry and Ron were meant to have that key. It was left in my care. However, when Voldemort rose again, and Harry was plainly the target of his anger, I thought it would be better if the key left Hogwarts, where it was known to be, secretly. So, I gave it to Miss Delacour to take and keep safe in Beauxbatons until the time came when she would return it to both Harry and Ron. However, her safety was obviously endangered and so she sent the key, before the agreed time. Ahh well, Fate forces our hand. It is often so in such troubled times," Dumbledore sighed.

"I do not know, however, how such dark charms were placed on the key, it must have been tampered with and that worries me." He appeared to consciously shrug off such gloomy thoughts and said, "but the charms are off now, and I believe you two will make good use of it."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something more but no sound came out. He tried again with the same result. He sighed and shook his head. "I can't tell you any more. There's a spell on me so that I can't help. It was felt that you should work it out by yourselves."

"Felt by who?" Harry asked, curious.

Again Dumbledore tried to speak, again no words came out. He frown in exasperation. "Again I can't tell you. But they will explain everything when you see them."

He stood, "But now, however, I feel it is time for bed, for all of us. The key can wait until tomorrow. You have a lot to think about if you are to solve the mystery of this key, and I'm afraid that this time I cannot help you. I suggest you sleep on it." Puzzled, they filed out.

Hermione was the last to leave, but Dumbledore caught her arm. "May I have a word?"

Surprised, Hermione nodded. "Of course, Professor."

She called down the stairs to tell the others not to wait for her and was greeted by a contemplating silence, broken only by the whispers of a discussion and then Harry's answering shout reached her ears. Satisfied, she followed Dumbledore back into his office, closing the door behind her.

She did not know what she expected him to ask her. But "How well do you know Mister Malfoy?" was certainly not it and she was taken aback when he did.

And didn't everyone know the loathing between Malfoy and herself and her friends anyway. What was Dumbledore playing at? She was at a loss for words.

She finally settled on, "Um, not very well, Professor. I mean I know he's a pureblood from a very old family and he's very rich. His father is on the board of governors again, I believe. "

"I understand you do not get along very well."

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm not pureblood."

"Yes, the snobbishness of our old families is a shame. Hmm," Dumbledore stopped, he looked at her, considering. "It's a shame you don't get along better. Mr Malfoy. He might be able to help you in your present quest."

Hermione looked to see if a response was needed from her, but he seemed to be musing to himself. She wandered if this was a hint to solving the key's mystery since there was evidently something, or someone, preventing him from telling them plainly. She filed the comment away for future scrutiny. Silence fell for a moment, then Dumbledore gave himself a little shake.

"I'm sorry to have kept you at this late hour, Hermione," he said at last. "I suggest you go to bed and think about all this." She nodded and left the office.

* * *

After lessons the next day, Harry made his way to the Common Room with the first real smile he'd had on his face in days. He had a bulky wicker basket clasped to his chest which he was being careful not to jerk or knock.

Outside the portrait hole, Ron was waiting. He looked almost as excited as Harry did himself.

"Have you got it?" he asked as soon as Harry came into view.

"Yes. I picked the only black one of the litter. He seems the most lively and intelligent according to Padma. Is Ginny in there now?"

"Yup." Ron nodded. "Quidditch Victory," he said to the fat lady and they entered the Common Room.

Ginny looked up from her Transfiguration homework. She smiled at them but looked slightly bemused at their obvious excitement.

"Hey. What are you two up to?"

"I've come to apologise, Gin. You helped me, kept my secrets, saved my life and instead of thanking you I was angry. I've been acting like an idiot, I'm sorry." Harry looked at her sincerely.

Ginny surprised at this apology. She looked down, clearly thinking. Harry held his breath, but then she looked up and smiled at him again. "It's alright, I'm glad you aren't angry anymore."

"I'm not. I brought you something. To apologise and also I know you've wanted one for ages." Harry said, holding out the basket.

Carefully Ginny set the basket on the floor and lifted the lid. She peered in and suddenly her face cracked into a huge grin. And gently she put her hands in and lifted out a small, furry bundle. She cradled it to her chest, rubbing her cheek in it's warm fur. The kitten began to purr loudly.

She leapt up and threw her arms around first Ron, then Harry. Ron was amused to see how much his friend blushed.

"Thank you."

Harry straightened his glasses and grinned. "What are you going to call him?"

"It's a him? I don't know. Let me think."

"You could call him Harry," volunteered Ron helpfully. Ginny snorted with laughter. The tide of Harry's blush, which had been receding, came flooding back. He glared at Ron.

"Actually I was thinking of Mistoffelees." Ginny said diplomatically.

"Mistofo-what?" Ron spluttered.

"Mistoffelees. It's from a book of Muggle poetry that Hermione gave me to help with Muggle Studies. It's about cats. Mistoffelees was the conjuring cat."

"Fitting," agreed Harry. "I mean I guess we can't really complain. We've already got a Hedwig, a Crookshanks and a Pigwidgion."

"Good. Mistoffelees it is," said Ginny definitively. Then, catching sight of her brother's face, "And if you don't like it, Ron, then that's tough. You can refer to him as Harry and we'll all see how many black eyes you can collect."

* * *

Draco's sword snicked forward and neatly decapitated the apparition who was closing in on him with an axe. He spun around elegantly, spearing the one who was creeping up behind him through the heart. He was in an empty room, not far from the Slytherin Common Room, where he came to do all his fighting practice.

A bar of bright sunshine slanted in from the window, illuminating a slim figure dressed in black moving gracefully, guiding and following the flickering silver flame that was his sword. He despatched the last apparition that his sword practice spell had conjured up and reached for his wand to renew it.

Draco heard footsteps and looked up. Blaise was there, lounging on the door jab. Her top's neck was calculatedly low, just as her skirt hem was calculatedly high. Both were designed to show enough to interest an onlooker, but leave enough still concealed to leave something to the imagination and carefully stop short of complete sluttiness. Blaise did have some class.

Draco smiled at her and she returned it with one every inch as beautiful and charming.

"I brought this, it just arrived." She held out a sealed parchment. "From your father I think." Draco nodded, the silver wax seal was indeed the Malfoy crest, complete with serpents.

"And I thought you might want your dagger, too." This time she held out a silver dagger, the hilt was inlaid with jet but for all its beauty it was still a deadly weapon.

Draco smiled winningly and shook his head in surprise. "Honestly Blaise, what would I do without you to run my errands?

"Thanks a lot. You know I just wait around all my life looking for opportunities to run your errands. Can I lick your boots clean, oh great Master Malfoy?"

Draco smiled pleasantly. "No thanks, I got Pansy to do them this morning. You have to wait your turn. Anyway how did you know I'd be practising?"

"It wasn't hard, you know. Your sword was gone from its rack and no-one knew where you where. Obviously you were practicing." She tossed her sheet of black hair back over her shoulder.

Blaise was one of the few Slytherin, possibly the only Slytherin, who knew where Draco disappeared to and knew how good he was at the arts he practised. Draco didn't mind that she knew. He trusted her in so far as he trusted anyone and she was probably the next most intelligent Slytherin in their year. She had had what in Draco's mind constituted a decent upbringing, meaning she could use a sword almost as well as he could, had been known how to duel since she was five and had been able to recite all forty of the poisons that can kill a man instantly, along with the ways of using them and their symptoms before she was three. If he was the prince of Slytherin then she was its princess.

Blaise smile at him again and leant forward to wipe the sweat from his brow. Draco lazily reached out and pulled her towards him, but his lips had barely brushed hers when there was a sharp rap at the open door and they parted, unhurriedly, under Hermione's cold gaze.

Hermione stood and looked at them for a moment. Both looked every inch the Slytherins. Their beauty; their cold, hard smiles; their polished, almost sharpened look; the obvious danger in their presence all spoke to her of the main rivals to her house.

She knew that what she'd witnessed was Draco bored. Blaise didn't mean anything to him and he didn't mean anything to Blaise, who was supposed to be with Tobias Nott anyway. But Hermione suspected Blaise did not care for Tobias any more the she did for Draco. She was a Slytherin after all and real feelings can get in the way of ambition.

"Granger." Draco's voice was unwelcoming.

"Draco. I need to talk to you." His first name came out tight and strange from her mouth, but she was determined to say it. Dumbledore was right. They did need Draco's help.

Both Slytherins noticed the use of the first name. Draco raise an eyebrow at her, the leaned over and whispered something in Blaise's ear. She smirked, then turned and kissed him lightly on his pale cheek, before walking her from the classroom. Both Draco and Hermione waited until her clacking heels could no longer be heard before they spoke.

"What is it? You're coming to see me a lot at the moment. Do you like my company or something?"

Hermione ignored him. She took a deep breath. This was hard to say. "I've come to.." ask you for your help, part of her brain continued, but her mouth had disconnected itself in disgust and carried on in a more acceptable track, "to offer you a deal."

Again the eyebrow arched gracefully. "Indeed? Then be brisk, Granger," he almost spat out her name, obviously keen to show that he was not about to use her first name. His fingers toyed pointedly with his sword handle. "I'm busy."

She smiled sweetly. "You can practice sword fighting while I'm talking to you, you know."

Draco hesitated for a moment, part of him not sure he should allow her to see his skill or technique. They weren't on the same side after all and he was loath to give them any advantage. But part of him wanted to show off, she would never have seen anything like it. She was a Mudblood and muggles didn't use swords, and it wasn't likely that her dear Harry Potter could use a sword properly, for one thing there was no-one to teach him.

So, Draco waved his wand, making the last vestiges of the fading bodies flare and vanish. Hermione looked on, interested, she had never come across this charm before. Draco muttered the charm, his soft voice curling elegantly around the words, "Fallax Adversaries." Instantly the room was filled with ethereal opponents, rushing at Draco from all sides. He stood at the centre of this ghostly storm of activity, moving with unbelievable grace as he despatched the apparitions, both guiding and following his sword.

He was good, Hermione thought, but not as good as Harry. Harry had been learning for a few years now, taught by Sirius, and he was as agile and natural with a sword as he was on a broom stick. But even she would have had to admit that he had none of Draco's grace. His style was practical, whereas Draco's was beautiful.

"So, what's this new deal? I thought we already had one deal." Draco's voice was soft and surprisingly even considering the speed at which he was moving.

"We'd like your help. I know there are more defences on that place than disguised moon letters. And I bet you know them. I dare say your family has known them for as long as they've known about the Chamber of Secrets. I bet there's all sorts of other little unpleasant places in this school that only certain Slytherins know about. You could get us in safely and out again. I mean, we'll do it on our own but it will take longer because we'll have to work it all out from scratch. And when we do, you won't get inside. But if you help us we'll go in together and all receive what is in there together. It's your choice."

Draco didn't give any indication that he'd heard but she knew he had. He had discarded his sword and was using the dagger, stabbing and slitting the apparitions. Hermione couldn't help being disturbed as a dark haired, bespectacled head fell several feet away from its red clad body, but then, she reflected, that was probably the point.

"Be at the lake at nine, if you're coming, tonight. You can forget the meeting in the Charms classroom, that deal's off."

Hermione turned on her heel and left. Behind her Draco turned to kicks, making ghostly opponents fly through the air in his frustration at the offer.

* * *

Ron was making his way back from the Library. He glanced at his watch. It was only 8:30, he'd make it back in plenty of time. He was half nervous about the evening ahead, what if something went wrong? Dumbledore had already said that he wouldn't help. Couldn't help, whatever that meant.

He could hear sounds from up ahead. He couldn't see what was going on because the corridor turned but he could see shadows moving on the small amount of wall he could see. Quietly he crept up and hung back in the gloom to see what was going on.

He saw Crabbe and Goyle, but that was no surprise. That they appeared to be beating somebody up came as no surprise either. But this wasn't another hardy seventh year, it was a girl, a fifth year by the look of her. Small and skinny with white blonde curls. She was curled up on the floor, her arms over her head to protect herself from the blows that rained down. As Ron watched, she cried out as Crabbe kicked her in the side.

Ron couldn't stand it. He ran out and grabbed Goyle by the wrist, twisting it sharply. To begin with he had the best of things, he had surprised the two thugs and being thick-witted it took them a few minutes to realise what was going on. Then he began to remember why he had avoided fighting with Crabbe and Goyle over the last few months, it had been really so nice not being pounded to pulp.

Ron looked up after landing a lucky punch on Crabbe's nose. The girl had dragged herself over to the wall and was watching wide eyed. He suddenly realised Draco hadn't appeared yet to add his taunts to the bruises which already covered Ron's body. He ducked Goyle's punch and spun around, but Draco was nowhere in sight. It was unusual for Draco's dogs to pick a target without his supervision.

Then Blaise stepped out of the shadows. She smiled at Ron. He understood, Draco wasn't the one holding the leashes of the Slytherin dogs this evening. For some unfathomable reason, he had given them to Blaise.

"Since when did Malfoy give you the control of his dogs?" Ron spat.

"He's busy this evening and there was a particular annoyance I wanted dealing with. You know, you really shouldn't have interfered." Blaise's voice was cold, her dark green eyes glittering.

Ron opened his mouth to reply but something hard hit the back of his head. His eyes splintered with tears of pain and blackness flooded him.

* * *

Hermione's eyes searched the darkness. Behind her, Harry tried to walk quietly. Hermione could just make out Ginny, coming by a different path, but evidently heading for the lake. She realised Ginny was coming via the Ravenclaw common room where Padma was baby-sitting Mistoffelees for the evening. In the shadows, she could make out another figure. Ron, she assumed. But as they got nearer, she realised she'd been wrong. The figure was too short to be Ron.

The figure appeared to see them and stepped out of the shadows. Moonlight made his hair blaze. There was no mistaking that hair, or that face. Draco Malfoy. Hermione felt a shiver of cold surprise tingle up her spine. He had come. She hadn't been sure that he would.

She felt Harry stiffen behind her.

"What's he doing here?" He muttered.

Hermione laid her hand on his arm, placating. "Wait. Wait and see," she whispered in return.

They reached Draco at the same time as Ginny. Harry and Draco stood glaring at each other, Ginny standing next to Harry. Hermione slid delicately between them.

"Harry, Ginny, Draco is here at my invitation."

"What?"

"What?" Both stared at her with identical expressions of horror and disbelief. Her actual words were just as disturbing as her use of Draco's name.

"We need him. He knows how to get us in safely. And he can get us out again."

"But.." Harry protested.

Hermione cut him off. "Do you want to be stuck in there? I don't."

"Do you trust him then?" Ginny was glaring at both Hermione and Draco who was smirking over her shoulder.

The question surprised Hermione. Or the answer she realised she was about to give, rather than the question itself. "Yes," she answered simply.

There was deep surprise in Harry's eyes. And more then surprise, something like revulsion. It made Hermione feel dirty and guilty but she knew this was what Dumbledore had hinted at and that on its own was enough to convince her that she was doing the right thing.

She turned to Draco and was surprised to see surprise in his eyes, surprise at her words, surprise that she trusted him. Hermione looked away, embarrassed. She dug in the recesses of her robe and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. On it was written the translation of the moon letters. She gave it to Draco. His eyes lingered on the curious passage, near the end, just as hers had.

"Well?" she asked after a moment. "Is this enough?"

Draco nodded absently and turned, making off towards the cliff. Harry grabbed his arm.

"Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "To the chamber you've all been so anxious to get into."

"Not without Ron." Harry ground out.

"Oh, is Weasley coming too? How jolly." Draco's voice dripped sarcasm

Hermione looked at her watch distractedly. "Oh, where is Ron? He's quarter of an hour late already."

Ginny had caught her urgency and was consulting a large, leather-bound almanac. "Tonight is the last night this month when the moon will be full enough to show the moon letters."

"And don't think that I'll come and hang around here for another night, just because Weasley can't tell the time." Draco butted in.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry, Ginny and Hermione's voices all came at the same time.

Harry's eyes were worried as he said quietly to Hermione and Ginny, "Give him an hour and if he's still not here I guess we'll have to go without him. But I mean, Fleur did give the key to both of us..."

Ginny put her hand reassuringly on his arm. "He'll make it. He's just got held up. He'll be along in a minute." Her voice was full of conviction which was evidently meant to infect Hermione and Harry.

Harry covered her hand in his and squeezed it hand in response, "I hope you're right, Gin. I really don't want to go without him."

Draco was making throwing up noises in the background until Hermione smacked him hard on the arm . He had forgotten that she could hit hard when she put her mind to it, he shouldn't have done after third year, but he had and the shock silenced him.

There was a silence for a while, Draco lounging in the shadows, occupied by his own, private thoughts. Hermione hoped he was mentally checking that he could get them in and out of what ever was behind the cliff. The other three stood out, under the moon, each of them watching for Ron, scanning the lawns that sloped down from the school. Suddenly, Ginny's sharp eyes picked up a movement. It was a big, brown school owl clutching a letter. She grabbed Harry's arm and pointed. They watched with bated breath as it swooped lower and deposited the letter in the hand Harry held up.

It was addressed in tidy but unfamiliar scrip to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley.

Harry cast a puzzled glance sideways at the other two before tearing open the envelope and unfolding the single sheet of paper that was within.

Ron Weasley is at present in the Hospital Wing with a splintered rib and concussion. He was evidently fighting with some Slytherins again. He will be fine but I need him to rest so I can fix the rib and he won't settle because he appears to have been meeting you for something urgent. I'm sending you this to tell you that he says to go without him and (this is apparently aimed at Harry) not to waste your time sending the owl back asking if he's sure. He says go, because otherwise it will be too late. The headmaster has been in to see him and agrees with this sentiment of urgency, if not for that I would believe that you were up to something that would break rules.

Madame Pomfrey

Harry, Hermione and Ginny stared at each other, horrified. Silently, Hermione passed Harry her spelled quill and he scrawl a quick message on the back of the note.

Ok Ron. We'll go and do it now and bring back whatever was meant for you. Hermione and Ginny are both very worried - they say they'll come and see you and check you're alright as soon as they get back. I'll want to hear more about how you got hurt then, too.

Harry.

Hermione looked around for the owl. She couldn't see it until she turned around and saw it perched on Draco's outstretched wrist as though he was a falconer and it was his most favoured hunting bird. Then she saw with horror that of course Draco had no glove and the bird's talons were cutting into his wrist. When it saw the letter in Harry's hand, the owl flew to him and waited to be given the letter. Harry resealed it in the envelope, writing Reply for Ron Weasley on the front. He gave it to the owl and watched the bird flap away into the night.

Hermione, meanwhile, found her eyes fixed on Draco's bleeding arm. He paid it no heed but she could see the blood oozing form the cuts and knew that they must be painful.

Harry walked past her and down towards the cliff and water. He and Ginny, walked along the narrow rock path while Hermione and Draco used the Velum Aped charm to walk across the water. There seemed no need to say anything so all four of them remained silent.

The moonlight was streaming strongly and showed the doorway clearly. Both Harry and Ginny gasped with surprise at the strangeness and beauty of it. Hermione and Draco, having both seen it before, set about looking for a key hole. After a few moments they found it, cunningly disguised so that it blended into the rock. Solemnly, Harry pulled the key from his pocket, Hermione noted that even after Dumbledore had pronounced it free from dark charms, he still didn't trust it enough to hang it around his neck again. Slowly he slotted it into the door and turned it.

There was a moment of silence when it appeared the whole world was holding its breath, willing the door out, ears straining for a sound that it was working. Then there was the grinding and groaning of ancient machinery and the door swung ponderously open.

For a second or so, they all stood staring at the rectangle of pitch dark that faced them. Then Draco, with an arrogant flick of his head, stepped forward and motioned for them to follow him.

"Walk in single file. Step exactly where I step. Don't make any loud noises or sudden movements and above all, if I say something, do it instantly."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione, feeling that Draco was milking the power and authority that he had been given. She smiled back and him and shrugged, clearly indicating that they had no other choice but to follow him.

So, they filed into the dark after Draco. The two from the ledge going first, Ginny then Harry, with Hermione bringing up the rear. The door shut with a very solid thud as soon as she'd passed through. She stood still, the thick dark pressing in at her eyes and ears, nose and mouth. For a moment she fought the waves of claustrophobia that flooded in on her.

Draco's soft voice from somewhere up ahead whispered, "Light your wands"

"Lumos" Came in four different voices and keys. In the wand light, they could see that they were in quite a wide tunnel with a fairly high ceiling, causing Hermione's claustrophobia to ebb away

Slowly they began to walk forward, each one careful to step where Draco had. Luckily, this was made easy for them by a thick layered of dust in which Draco's feet left clear footprints.

"What is this place, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly, forgetting to show malice in his wonder.

"It was built by Godric's two children, after his death. A son and a daughter, I don't know their names." The careless way Draco said the second sentence showed that not only did he not know, he had never cared enough to find out. After all, they were only Gryffindors.

"And how do you know about it then?" Ginny's tentative question showed she didn't really expect an answer.

But she was surprised. "Riddle found it when he was looking for details about the Chamber of Secrets in his third year. To begin with, he thought it was the Chamber he was looking for, then he realised that it had been built later, after the main school building was complete. He carefully researched it and passed the information down through specific Slytherins, seventh year to first year. It was clearly something the Gryffindors would need, and it was natural that he should want the Slytherins to have that advantage."

There was a strange edge to Draco's voice that Hermione understood. What would the Slytherins do if they knew that he was here leading Gryffindors? That he was dealing and compromising with them instead of taking everything as was the Slytherin way. And when she realised that she couldn't help wondering what the hell Draco was doing?

Ginny was trembling. She was strongly reminded of the Chamber by Riddle's name and these dark passages. But then she felt Harry's warm hand settle comfortingly on her, stilling her trembling, Harry was here and he had saved her from the Chamber and defeated both Riddle and his present identity, Voldemort.

They carried on through the dark. Twice Draco told them to duck and once they had to crawl under a low section of tunnel. Finally, when they were dirty and dusty, sweat-soaked and tired they reached a second door. This one had no keyhole or runes to explain how it was to be opened. Draco told them to wait a little up the passage, which they did, Harry glaring suspiciously, while he walked up to the door. When he was a few feet away, white flames leapt up. Hermione saw his silhouette, dark against the fire, nod grimly as though he had suspected this.

"Potter, Weasley come here," he said quietly his voice cold. Hermione was unsettled to find herself left out. Then, Draco's eyes met hers and she remembered with a bolt, the runes she had translated. She understood what Draco was going to do. It hardly seemed fair, but she hoped it worked. She was glad she hadn't told Harry and Ginny what the runes meant.

With no warning, Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and before the other boy could blink, Draco moved with the same speed he'd shown on the lake. He pushed Harry perilously close to the fire, holding him there, with his head only inches above the restless flames. Harry glared furiously at him, his hatred savage. Hermione noticed that Draco's hand was trembling slightly, She could see a dark stain down his sleeve. She was puzzled for a moment until she realised with a sickening jolt that it was blood, dark in the white light from the flames.

For Ginny looking on, Harry in danger was the last straw. She was tired and dirty, she was worried about her brother, she scared by her memories of Riddle and Draco threatening Harry was too much for her to deal with right now. Her eyes welled up and she shut them, not wanting the ridicule from Draco that her tears would earn her. But one pale tear slid beneath her golden lashes and traced a line down her cheek. "Let him go, please, Draco."

Draco relaxed. He spun Harry back onto the path, ignoring his threats. With careful gesture, he reached out and allowed Ginny's tear to drip onto his finger. But before he shook it off a darker drop, a drop of his own blood, rolled down his hand until it hung next to Ginny's tear. The silver tear and the red blood slowly merged. And then he swiftly, he flicked the newly formed teardrop down onto the flames. It fell with almost unnatural slowness, turned into a glittering droplet of garnet by the white flames below it. Then it reached them and the flames flared up, blood red, for a moment, then the second door swung open, revealing a room full of thick white mist.

"Only a teardrop born from love for another will still the flames. Only a tear shed to protect another will open the door." Draco whispered, quoting the runes Hermione had translated.

He turned around and saw that Hermione had moved up and was now standing between Harry and Ginny, her arms around their shoulders. Draco saw the puzzled expressions on their faces.

"It's from the translation Hermione did. The runes over the first door." Hermione smiled.

"Come on," she whispered, guiding Harry and Ginny forward so Ginny was standing next to Draco. "Lets go in and see what there is to be seen." The others nodded and together, the four of them stepped through the door, and even before it closed, were swallowed by the mist.