The Makings of an Auror

The Makings of an Auror

Chapter Eight

-------------------------

Hermione finally had a chance to open her Christmas presents. With all of the events that had happened during the morning, she hardly had time to even think about presents. Harry and Ron sat with her (having already opened theirs), watching as she unwrapped a porcelain-based water globe from her parents, a box of chocolate cockroach clusters from Hagrid, a knitted scarf with the Gryffindor lion from Mrs. Weasley, and a new book from Ron about Quidditch. When she unwrapped Harry's present, she screamed in delight. There was a small golden charm bracelet in a velour box, and she giggled as she held it up. There were figures on the bracelet of people who looked very familiar. She realized that the charms were of all her friends: Harry had his same untidy hair, Ron was holding a racing broom, Hagrid was standing proudly with Fang beside him, and then, she saw...Draco? She looked up at Harry, who was looking back at her, his eyes shining, mouth breaking open into a smile.

"I made it myself," he exclaimed, taking the bracelet from her and snapping it shut over her wrist. "They move too. Watch." He pulled a toothpick from his pocket (courtesy of the Dursleys) and poked the miniature Draco in the back. The figure scowled, looking up at Harry and glaring. Hermione grinned.

"They look just like you guys," she exclaimed, examining the Harry figure. "Look, he has your emerald green eyes!"

"Ron has his hair," Harry pointed out, "Malfoy has his scowl, and Hagrid has his dog, Fang, who has his slobber."

"I'm surprised you put Draco on there," she added, and Harry looked uncomfortable.

"Well, Malfoy and I had a talk, and I realized that you two are friends, really good friends," Harry said. Hermione nearly dropped the velour box she was holding.

"You and Malfoy talked?" she exclaimed, and Harry nodded. "This has to be the biggest event of the century!"

"Harry talked to Malfoy?" Ron said suddenly, and Hermione and Harry both turned to look at him, identical grins on their faces. "Woah Harry, I gotta hand it to you. That is one of the biggest events of the century. What did you say? Did you threaten to take out his guts?"

Harry laughed. "Ron, calm down. All I did was talk to him about Hermione." Harry suddenly looked panicked.

"Talked to him about me?" Hermione said in a sweet voice. Ron started laughing, rolling over onto the floor and clutching his side. "Ron!" Hermione said. "It wasn't that funny!" Harry looked down at his best friend, rolling on the floor. He shrugged.

"He needs a good laugh, let him at it," he smiled. Hermione fingered the charm bracelet, cupping the little Harry figure. It stretched and curled up into a ball in the palm of her hand, snoring.

"Look, he's telling you that you need sleep," Hermione giggled, and Harry focused his attention on the tiny figure.

"Tell it I got plenty of sleep last night," Harry said in mock sincerity.

"So you talked to Malfoy, did you?" said Hermione, and Harry paled.

"Why is everyone making such a big deal out of that?" Harry replied, staring fixedly at the bed sheets as if they held all the secrets of the universe. "Besides, all we talked about was...ahh you."

"Well what did he say?" said Hermione, in an expectant tone. Harry began fiddling with the corner of the bed sheets.

"Ahh, he said that, uhh, I should feel lucky to have a girlfriend like you, and that, erm, he told me about kissing you before, and--."

"You know what?" Hermione said. "Never you mind, I don't want to know about it. That was between you and Draco," she finished, placing her hand over his. He stopped trying to tear the corner of the bed sheets.

"Thanks Hermione," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. His expression suddenly changed, and he looked eager. "There was something Malfoy did say that made me wonder..."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "Wonder what?" Harry faced her, an odd expression on his face.

"He said I wasn't so bad," Harry finished, looking extremely spirit-lifted, his face glowing. Hermione felt her mouth drop nearly all the way down to the ground. Harry grinned.

"He--he said that? Woah Harry, you've finally made peace with your archenemy. You must allow me to be the first to congratulate you on this extraordinary discovery." She seized his hand and shook it gallantly in hers. Harry just shook his head, his shoulders twitching in silent laughter. "Hermione, we're not exactly buddy-buddy here. We still despise each other."

"I can dream," Hermione shrugged. Ron chose that moment to abruptly stop laughing, and his red head appeared over the side of the bed, his cheeks pink. "Hello Ron, have you decided to return to your normal state of sanity?"

Ron glared. "You and Malfoy are friends? That's just so wrong. He'll stab you in the back, so mark my words Harry. Something's gonna happen that will make you regret ever making this temporary peace treaty."

"Ron, you're being pathetic," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and I didn't even say he was my friend!" he added more stubbornly. Ron and Harry glared daggers (in a best friend-ish sort of way), so Hermione placed a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders, forcing them to look back at her.

"Calm down boys," she said in a motherly tone, and Harry and Ron's expressions both softened: Harry looking affectionate and Ron looking dubious. Ron shook his head determinedly.

"Hermione, I really don't see why you stick up for this guy so much," Ron murmured, in a disgusted tone. "What ever happened to the old Hermione who would go around smacking Draco Malfoy if he ever said anything mean?"

"There is no old or new Hermione," she reproached, and Ron looked slightly befuddled. "Now really, both of you stop bickering about Draco. Otherwise, you're going to make me sick." Ron didn't choose to continue the subject, so he went respectively silent as Hermione pressed the back of her hand against her eyes. "Besides, it's Christmas Day. Let's just enjoy ourselves."

"Spot on Herm," Ron agreed jovially. "How about we have a bit of fun outside involving...oh, let's say snowballs and Malfoy?" he grinned cheekily. Hermione lightly smacked him on his arm. "Oh come on, he won't know you're doing it," he pointed out. "In fact, no one need know we're doing it. I think this involves Harry's invisibility cloak, hexed snowballs, and Malfoy."

"Invisibility cloak eh? Sounds like fun," Harry replied, a grin spreading rapidly on his face. He looked to Hermione, and then looked extremely guilty. "Ah, Hermione, we won't hurt him or anything," he began shiftily.

"Oh go on," she replied, in a thoroughly annoyed tone, and she stood up, grabbing her own cloak and following them out of the dormitory door.

***

"Look! There's Mark Flint! Hex another snowball at him Ron!" Harry commanded, and Ron bought out his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, and the snowball levitated into the air. Charming it with an itching-ears hex, he flung it at the back of Flint's head. Hermione desperately tried not to laugh as the victim of the snowball began to scratch at his ears furiously. She caught sight of Harry next to her, doubled over in laughter, who plopped down exhaustedly in the snow. Hermione sat down next to him, and he stopped laughing, although the huge goofy grin remained.

"Hello," Harry grinned, as he watched Ron pelt snowball after snowball at Filch.

"Hey," she responded, grinning at him now. The cloak gave them limited amount of elbowroom, so she was squashed up against the side of his chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily, and as she lay against his chest, it made her sleepy. "Happy Christmas Harry."

"Happy Christmas Hermione," he said.

"Which reminds me," Hermione said thoughtfully, "that I forgot to give you your Christmas present." Harry looked embarrassed.

"You didn't have to Hermione," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head distractedly. Hermione giggled.

"I think you'll be surprised at what exactly it is," she said surreptitiously, and Harry looked even more uncomfortable, his cheeks glowing bright red.

"You, ahh, wouldn't be talking about--," he began, but Hermione pressed a silencing finger to his lips, grinning again. Harry returned her grin weakly, smiling against her fingertips. They were interrupted by a loud crashing noise and an 'Ow!' Hermione looked up to see Draco standing a few feet away from them, bits of snow from the snowball on his black cashmere sweater. He looked around thoughtfully before shrugging in a slapdash fashion and walking off towards the lake.

"Ron," Hermione said firmly, tugging at the back of his cloak.

"What? I thought he was Millicent Bulstrode!"

"Ron, Millicent graduated nearly three years ago," she said resolutely, and Ron looked embarrassed.

"Yeah, I suppose that is true."

But Hermione kept glancing off in the direction of the lake. Where was Draco going? Was he feeling depressed? Come to think of it, he probably didn't get many gifts from his family. "I'll be right back," she said, stepping out from underneath the invisibility cloak. She heard Harry make a noise of protest, and suddenly his arm materialized out of nowhere, grabbing on to her wrist.

"Hermione," the invisible Harry warned. "Be careful."

"Harry, I'm on the Hogwarts grounds, what could possibly happen?' she shrugged, and she ran off in the direction Draco had gone. Harry sighed.

"Sometimes you just have to let her go Harry," Ron said sadly, and Harry nodded in agreement.

***

Draco sat with his back against a large tree, staring out across the fathomless lake. He tossed a few rocks into the water, watching the surface ripple over. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him, but he didn't turn to speak to him or her.

"Hello," said a familiar voice. Of course, it was Hermione. He knew her voice well enough.

"Hey," he responded dispiritedly. She sat down next to him, drawing her knees up to her chest and glancing out over the lake, and then at him.

"How are you?" she asked uncomfortably. Draco shrugged, his fingers running across the dirt in search of more rocks.

"Okay I guess," said Draco. "I only just finished sorting out my innumerable gifts from anonymous fan girls. You?"

"Always such sarcasm," Hermione said, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. "I'm alright."

"That's good," Draco said truthfully, and Hermione gazed up at him curiously. "No need--to be," he began, tugging at a particularly large rock, "depressed on Christmas day." He finally pulled the rock out of the dirt and threw it into the lake, water splashing up into the snow. "Besides, how could anyone be depressed?" He started tugging on another rock furiously. "Everyone gets gifts, there's cheeriness everywhere, the weather's perfect, people are love-struck--."

"Draco," Hermione said gently, laying a gloved hand on his arm, and he stopped his frantic digging to get to the rock. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, nothing is the matter," he said bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Except the fact that my father didn't stay true to his word, the Slytherins aren't as cheery as you lot, the weather is thoroughly getting me soaking wet and cold, and I'm sick of being smitten." He finished looking horrified, and Hermione clasped a hand over her mouth. Draco suddenly looked beside himself with rage, and she could practically feel the heat emanating off of him.

"Well, things can't be, well, that bad," Hermione began. "First off, I'll give you a gift. Second, we'll go inside and have Christmas dinner together. Third, we don't have to be outside in the soaking and cold weather, and fourth, you don't have to be around anyone who makes you feel love-struck." Draco scoffed at this last bit.

"Regarding nearly everything you've said, that's completely impossible."

"No it isn't. Now come on, let me get your gift," she began, making to stand up.

"I have something for you," he said abruptly, and Hermione paused. He reached inside his pocket and drew out a box. Hermione took it reluctantly, surprised by the fact he even got her something. She opened it and nearly dropped it in surprise, which would have been a shame as the object inside was both very beautiful and breakable. Inside lay a glass rose about the site of a pocket watch, intricately designed and cold to the touch.

"Draco - it's - it's beautiful!" she stuttered, holding it up to examine it closer.

"Here," he said, taking it from her. "If you hold it up to the sunlight, it's a prism." He held it up and the sunlight caught the edges of it. Splayed across the tree in back of her were brilliant shades of every color imaginable, a mixture of blue and purple, red and orange, pink and lavender. But when he turned it ever so slightly, the colors sprang together to form an image. It was Hermione, wearing a cerulean evening dress, and beside her was Harry. They were both laughing, and as he moved it again, they looked at her and waved. Finally, he placed it back inside the box. "It's an ice sculpture, charmed so it will never melt," he explained. Without warning, Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck, crushing him into a sloppy hug. As soon as Hermione let go of him, she noticed his bright red cheeks and embarrassed demeanor. He cleared his throat, scratching behind his ear awkwardly.

"It is wonderful," Hermione smiled, clutching the box to her chest. "Thank you."

Draco put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Well, it wasn't really anything special, I just made it in a hurry so I could get it to you by today."

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. "You - you made this?" she cried out, emphasizing her words by indicating the box. Draco looked like he desperately needed to laugh but was using a great amount of self-control.

"It's not very hard," he explained. "You make it by means of a potion."

"Whatever you did, you did it perfectly." She glanced off back towards the castle and then back at him. "Why don't you come on up to the dormitory so I can give you your gift."

Draco's eyes popped before he could control himself. "Potter wouldn't agree with that. Bring it down to the Great Hall around dinnertime and give it to me then. If you must," he added. Hermione scowled

"Alright, I'll bring it down later. But you know everyone is going to make a fuss over things," she pointed out.

"Who cares?"

***

Draco sat at the Slytherin table (which was hardly occupied, as nearly every other Slytherin had gone home for the Christmas break), drumming his fingers on the table. Despite the mouth-watering delectable feast in front of him, he wasn't feeling particularly hungry. His thoughts kept straying to the black dragon on his shoulder. He wasn't even paying attention to Pansy, who was talking to him excitedly. You think she'd get the hint I'm not interested, he thought cynically. His eyes fell on the entrance to the Great Hall, and he immediately straightened up. Hermione, Ron and Harry were walking into the dining area, talking animatedly to each other. Hermione looked stunning in a low cut black sweater with muggle jeans, her hair pulled back so that it was half up, half down. Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table, and Hermione looked as if she were going to join them. But she glanced across the large room at Draco, and then made a hand movement as if to say I'll be right back. Hermione walked over to him, holding a small package that was flawlessly wrapped in shiny wrapping paper.

"Hello," Draco said, as she was standing next to him.

"Hey," Hermione responded. "Umm, I brought your gift. Sorry it wasn't at the foot of your bed this morning, I hadn't bought it until later this afternoon."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You waited all that time to get me a gift?" he said teasingly.

Hermione looked embarrassed. "Well, I saw it in the Hogsmeade shops a while back and thought of you, but I wanted to wait until I had enough money, so I wrote to my parents and they sent me some from my vault."

"Aha, the time-honored excuse; 'Well, I didn't know you were getting me a present so I rushed off to buy you something too!' Works every time." Hermione punched him lightly on the arm, and Draco grinned sweetly back at her. "Okay, I believe you."

"Good, because you should," Hermione commanded. "Do you want to come eat with us?"

Draco shook his head furiously. "No, I'd much rather stay here. Besides, I'm not too sure they'd like it too much," he replied, jerking his chin in the direction of Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Here," she said, depositing the present in his lap. "It's nothing great, but oh well. Happy Christmas," she said somewhat shyly, and walked briskly back to the Gryffindor table, sitting down hurriedly in-between Harry and Ron. Draco chuckled lightly to himself, shaking his head. He picked up the parcel in his lap and shook it warily, as if it were a bomb that was likely to go off at any minute. Checking to make sure he wasn't being watched, he opened it carefully, tossing the wrapping paper next to him on the bench. He was holding in his hands a small book. Grinning to himself, he figured it was 'highly interesting' in Hermione's words. But when he opened it, he realized it wasn't a book, but a photo album. Inside were pictures of Hermione, some of them when she was really young, others when she was older. The pictures depicted Hermione on the beach in a black one-piece bathing suit, pictures of Hermione lying in a field of daisies, pictures of Hermione sliding down a slide when she was four years old. He looked up and caught Hermione's gaze and he smiled. She smiled back bashfully before returning her attention to Harry and Ron.

"What's that?" a voice said suddenly. Draco jumped slightly. Pansy had spoken, leaning over his shoulder and looking at the album with detached interest.

"This," Draco said, tucking it inside his book bag, "is none of your business." Pansy opened her mouth in a shocked and offended manner. She slammed both hands down on the table, and a few Slytherins looked up from their dinner.

"It most certainly is my business!" Pansy shrieked indignantly. "You're having an affair with the prissy Mudblood aren't you?"

"Pansy," said Draco in a thoroughly annoyed tone, "do tell me how I can possibly have an affair with Hermione if I'm not even dating anybody else?" Pansy shrieked again, this time standing up and nearly capsizing the bench.

"So you're just going to pretend we never went out together?" she demanded.

"Basically yes. I believe I was quite stupid to ever go out with you, and I'd rather date Moaning Myrtle now, so goodbye." Pansy opened her mouth furiously and then closed it again, her eyes spitting fire and her expression full of apoplectic rage.

"Fine Draco Malfoy. Don't ever expect me to date you ever again!" And Pansy stormed out of the Great Hall.

Draco looked down the nearly abandoned Slytherin table. Every head was turned so they could look at him, and he cleared his throat sternly. Everyone gave a jump of surprise and immediately returned their attention to their dinner. Shaking his head, Draco stood up, picking up his book bag. When he walked past the Gryffindor table, he cast a quick glance at Hermione before leaving.

"Why is Malfoy carrying a book bag?" Ron said disgustedly, and Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe he's doing a bit of studying for the exams," Harry suggested. "Like Hermione always does. You don't seem to be as concerned with school as you used to be," he added, talking to Hermione. She dropped her fork unexpectedly.

"And where, Mr. Potter, do you think I am nearly every other hour of the day? I have spent nearly half of my life in that school library and have practically memorized the coding system! Blue bars mean History of Magic, red bars mean Herbology, green bars mean Potions..."

"Hermione, as interesting as this is, I think we've had enough," Ron said firmly, and Hermione stopped, a sly smile on her face.

"Okay, so we realize you are very serious about your schooling. But it seems like...I don't know, that you've been a bit occupied with other things," said Harry, and Hermione gave him a wide-eyed look.

"I was gone for nearly two months," she pointed out in a hushed tone. "Besides. I do most of my studying after you two are in bed." She looked like she was about to continue when she clutched at her stomach, her mouth open and her eyes wide.

"Hermione?" Harry said suddenly, his voice alarmed. "Hermione are you okay?"

"I--I'm fine," she said, holding up a hand to silence him. "I'm fine."

"What's wrong? You just sort of held your stomach there for a minute," said Ron, in a shocked tone. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Hermione put a hand to her forehead. "Ron I'm fine. I'm going to the library for a bit though, so I'll see you later." She stood up and Harry immediately followed suit.

"Hermione, I think I should at least walk you to the library," Harry demanded. Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry I feel fine. Just go on and keep eating. Don't worry about me." Harry looked skeptical but he sat down nevertheless.

"Okay, but if you need anything, anything at all, just come and get me," Harry told her sternly. Hermione just gave him a huge grin and hugged him quickly.

"Bye Ron, Harry," she said quickly, before leaving the Great Hall and heading for the library.

***

Draco sat in the library, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a very large book in front of him. The pages were old and worn, and as he turned the leaf of the book, a cloud of dust flew into the air and settled down onto the table he was sitting at. He couldn't find anything that could possibly help him at all. He had looked in Magical Markings: What They Mean, New and Unexpected Changes to your Body (which, he thought, was downright disgusting), and A Guide to the Markings of Evil. So far, all he'd found out was that the serpent was the symbol of evil, but he already knew that. Sighing, he closed the book and tossed it onto the floor in his rapidly growing pile of 'useless books'. He trailed his fingers across his left shoulder thoughtfully. Where the serpent was tattooed into his skin felt icy to the touch, and he withdrew his hand rapidly as the doors to the library opened. He opened one of the nearby books and propped it up in front of him. He didn't see who had come into the library, but he heard the individual walk across the aisle in front of him. He heard them shift a few books and carry them to the table next to him. Cursing, Draco lowered the book to tell the person to sod off, but when he caught sight of the intruder, he gasped. Hermione was flipping through a book larger than he had had before, and she looked pale and worried.

"Hermione?" he exclaimed, before he could stop himself. She looked up from the book at the sound of his voice and gave a little start.

"Oh," she squeaked. "Draco. I - didn't know you were going to be here." She closed the voluminous book and tried to hide it behind her book bag, but Draco reached over and plucked it out of her grasp.

"Myths of a Sorcerer: Fact or Fiction?" he read aloud. "Now what could you possibly be looking up?"

"Nothing you need to know about just yet," she snapped, trying to take the book back, but he was stronger.

"Hold on," he told her calmly, and opened it up to the spot she had magically book marked. "Salazar Slytherin's heir will take his place and bring the earth to destruction with the aid of his true love...Hermione, why are you reading this junk? It's all myth and no fact."

"I don't believe it," she lied, and then she raised her wand. "Accio." The book whizzed out of Draco's hands, much like it had five years ago when Draco had stolen Tom Riddle's diary and Harry had used Expelliarmus to retrieve it.

"Unfair," he said, wagging a finger sternly at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to stuff the huge book into her bag, but it was too large. Draco gave her a simpering grin and brought his wand out, touching it lightly to the book.

"Reducio," he said simply, and the book shrank to pocket size. Hermione stared open mouthed from the book to Draco, and then back again.

"I should have thought of that," she said stupidly, and Draco shrugged.

"For someone so smart, you don't use your head very well," he pointed out gently, tapping her on her nose lightly with his index finger. Hermione snorted.

"I suppose I don't." She sighed deeply, suddenly looking very tired. She lifted her arm and rubbed her eyes with the back of it, and when she did this her sleeve slid partially down her left shoulder. At first, Draco's immediate reaction was to snap his eyes shut. But something made him stare rather obviously at her exposed shoulder. There was something small and black imprinted onto her left shoulder, and as she finished wiping the back of her eyes, she pulled her sleeve up and looked at him. "What? Is something the matter?"

Draco opened his mouth and closed it, before opening it again. Something black, left shoulder... "Hermione, could I see something for a minute?" She looked concerned but nodded to him in approval. He got up from his chair and walked over to her table. Without thinking how weird the gesture was, he pulled down the sleeve again of her left shoulder. Hermione jumped, but when she spotted what he was looking at, her eyes popped. Yes, there was no mistaking it. The serpent was on her shoulder too, but it was different. Although it was black, hers was edged in red, and the open mouth depicted fangs with red blood dripping from them.

"What is that?" she asked, pulling her sleeve a bit further down than she had intended to, and Draco clamped his eyes shut.

"It's--ahh, well it's a serpent," he said, carefully looking everywhere but her shoulder. "A serpent."

"A serpent?" Hermione shrieked, standing up and knocking her chair over. "What the hell is a serpent doing on my shoulder?" Draco chanced a peek at her and found that she had finally lifted her sleeve back up to a point that was suitable for viewing. He carefully ran a finger across the serpent on her shoulder and felt that it too was icy to the touch. Hermione shivered.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I really don't know." They stood in silence for a few minutes, Draco's index finger pressed against the mark on her left shoulder, Hermione with her hand clutching his sleeve. At that moment, somebody decided to enter the library, because the doors burst open.

"This," said a stern voice, "is a library. Not a broom closet used for snogging!" It was Madame Pince, the librarian. Hermione immediately backed out of Draco's grasp and he lifted her sleeve up so her shoulder wasn't exposed. Madame Pomfrey looked down on the two guilty teenagers with something like humor in her eyes.

"Madame Pince," Hermione began carefully. "We weren't - snogging or anything," she said uncomfortably. Draco nodded hurriedly in agreement. Madame Pomfrey looked from the Head Boy to the Head Girl.

"Well. We'll just have to see about that." She brought out her wand and tapped each of them, muttering spells incoherently under her breath. "Hmm, everything seems to be normal. The hormones are raging but your pulse rate is normal. And it seems neither of you have laid lips on each other, so I'll have to trust you." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want to see 'Snog Session in Library' on her progress report. She quickly cast Draco a nervous glance, one which he didn't return.

"It wasn't what it looked like. Her--ahh, Granger told me she was having pains in her shoulder, so I took a look at it really quick. Honestly, we weren't up to anything."

"Whether you were up to anything or not, I don't really care. Ms. Granger, if you are having pains then I suggest you go see Madame Pomfrey. And please pick up these books," she said in an irritated tone, nudging the books on the floor with her foot.

"Yes mam," Draco responded quickly, wishing he hadn't tossed the books onto the floor in the first place. With one last wary glance, Madame Pince turned and headed for her desk near the front of the library.

They stood in an awkward silence before Draco knelt down and scooped up the books on the floor. Hermione glanced at the titles.

"Magical Markings: What They Mean...A Handbook to Symbols...Draco what is all this?" she asked, tilting her head to one side so she could get a better look.

"It's nothing really. Just doing some extra homework Snape assigned," he lied, moving his arm over the titles of the books. Hermione looked skeptical but she didn't say anything.

"This is so strange," Hermione said, and Draco knew she was talking about the serpent on her shoulder. "Why...how..."

"That's exactly what I've been asking myself," Draco said, more to himself than to Hermione.

Hermione brought the reduced-in-size Myths of a Sorcerer back out of her book bag and opened it. It magically sprung to its original state, and as she turned through the pages, she stopped at the place she had magically book marked. "It just doesn't make sense," she said furiously.

***

The Quidditch field was deserted, merely a large stadium packed with snow. It's perfect, Draco thought to himself. Well, no saying how good the spell might go...it might not even work. He removed his black gloves, setting them down on the ground beside him. Then he drew out his wand, holding it with his teeth so his hands were free to retrieve the last object he needed. It was a large book, bound by worn leather. On the front stamped in peeling gold letters was a book , "Dark Curses and Hexes", by Alfredus Striggle. His father had bought it for him in Flourish and Blotts when he was younger. Draco had never looked at it, never even opened it. Until yesterday, when curiosity overtook him. He'd seen books in his father's library written by the same author, books that he'd never even thought he'd consider reading before. But on the inside of Dark Curses and Hexes, there was a list of other works done by the author.

"Where is it," Draco wondered aloud, scanning down the ridiculously long list of books by Striggle. At last he came to it. "Alright, so that's it." He closed his eyes, his index finger tightly pressed up against the name of the book. A vision of the Manor came back to him in a whirl of colors and lights, and suddenly saw his father's library. The books were covered in a thin layer of dust, and the heavy cedar desk in the corner of the room had a voluminous stack of papers. He envisioned himself entering the familiar room and browsing the bookcase for the book he was searching for. He saw it briefly. Third bookcase, fifth shelf. He closed the book with a snap, opening his eyes and removing the wand from in-between his jaw. Raising it high with a clear image of the book he wanted, he raised his wand. "Accio!"

***

Hermione sank into the large prefect's tub, sighing as the warm water engulfed her. She winced a bit as the steaming water hit the serpent on her shoulder, and it hissed, like the sound of an ice cube being dropped into hot water. Everything was so complicated. What was with this black serpent? And why was Draco Malfoy so puzzling? Taking a deep breath, she sank beneath the water.

The door to the prefect's washroom opened, and Hermione came up from beneath the water, spluttering and choking.

"Who's there?" she asked, blinking through the water.

"Don't worry Herm, it's just me," said a too-familiar voice. Hermione rubbed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh if relief. It was only Ginny, wearing a large and fluffy pink bathrobe. The younger girl stepped to the side of the large bath and turned on some of the taps, filling the pool with an ample supply of bubbles and foam.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione said sternly. "You're not a prefect."

"I know, I know," Ginny scowled. "I just came to talk to you," she said unconvincingly. Hermione looked disbelieving. "Okay, and maybe to have a really luxurious bath too."

Hermione nodded, a sly smile on her face. "I figured as much." Hermione quickly closed her eyes as Ginny removed her bathrobe (even though they were both girls, they respected each other's privacy : p). Once Hermione was sure Ginny was inside the bathtub, she opened her eyes. "So what do you want to talk to me about? Is it about that Hufflepuff you were dating?"

Ginny snorted. "Herm, I broke it off with him who knows how long ago," she assured her. "No, it's not even about me."

"Oh no Gin," Hermione said quickly. "I'm tired of talking about Harry and Malfoy." She pressed the back of her hand to her eyes wearily, sinking into the foam.

Ginny looked crestfallen. "But Herm!" she cried out. "How can you be?" Ginny demanded. Hermione closed her eyes, breathing in deeply.

"Ginny," Hermione said slowly, "I really, really do not want to talk about them."

Ginny sighed. "Okay, okay. We won't talk about Malfoy or Harry. We'll just talk about..." Ginny trailed off. She was looking at Hermione, an anomalous expression on her face. "Hermione, you don't look so good," she said finally. Hermione opened her eyes.

"What?"

"You don't look so good," Ginny repeated. "You look like you stuck your finger in a light bulb socket."

Hermione snorted. "Thank you Ginny, that's just what I needed to hear," she said sarcastically.

"Well it's true!" Ginny cried out. "When was the last time you got a decent night of sleep?"

"A what? Oh, a decent night of sleep...uhh, I can't remember," Hermione said truthfully. "A lot has been on my mind lately, I'm sorry I haven't exactly been with it." Ginny nodded sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm such a meddlesome redhead aren't I?" Ginny grinned. Hermione returned the smile weakly.

"You're also a helpful redhead. Now you shouldn't be sorry. It's my fault anyway, I got myself into this mess," Hermione said miserably. "Don't worry, I'll get everything sorted out."

Ginny looked disbelieving. "Alright Hermione, whatever you say."

"Come on, don't be that way," Hermione said wearily, pressing her hand to her forehead. "So you came here for a bath, did you?"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I did. Makes me regret that I turned down being a prefect. If the bathrooms alone are this nice, I wonder what the toilets are like."

"They have velvety red Gryffindor seat cushions and marble bases with brass handles..." Hermione teased. Ginny punched Hermione lightly on the arm, but she withdrew her hand quickly, crying out. "What? What is it?" Hermione asked in an alarmed voice.

"You're ice cold," Ginny breathed. "Hermione, are you sick or something?"

Hermione frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "No, not that I've noticed. Do you think I need a Pepperup Potion?"

"I think you need more than a Pepperup Potion. You need some heat therapy," Ginny said seriously. Hermione laughed.

"Heat therapy? Never heard of it," Hermione said carelessly. She spotted Ginny's expression. "Why are you looking at me like I'm Snape wearing a tutu and doing the cancan?" she demanded. Ginny looked sheepish.

"Snape in a tutu? Doing the cancan? That's a nice visual," Ginny said thoughtfully. Hermione snorted. "Oh, sorry for looking at you like that. I was, err, thinking about something."

"And that something would be about--what exactly?" Hermione asked, sinking further into the foam and bubbles. The warm water felt like bliss against her aching skin, and as half-listened to Ginny go into a detailed speech about some new guy, she felt rather than heard a buzzing noise in the back of her head. It was almost as if a laser was penetrating through to her skull, and as she clutched at her head, the world around her became fuzzy around the edges.

"Hermione?" Ginny said suddenly. "Hermione what's wrong?" Hermione held up a dismissive hand, this time clutching her stomach.

"Headache," was her short reply. "I have a headache. Nothing's the matter. Oh Ginny," Hermione said exasperatedly. "Do continue with your story once you've stopped gaping at me like I'm from outer space."

Ginny closed her mouth rather guiltily, turning crimson. "I - well, I can't exactly remember what I was saying now," she admitted. "But it's not important."

Hermione immediately felt guilty for not paying more attention to her friend. She sighed. "Ahh well, I'd best be going. I've been meaning to solve this puzzle for awhile now, and I'm not helping the situation any by sitting in the Prefect's Washroom."

***

"The symbol of the Serpent, most commonly used for evil signatures, was first used by Salazar Slytherin. After developing the Dark Mark and what is known today as Death Eaters..."

"This is crap," Draco muttered disdainfully, closing the book and shoving it to the other side of the table. Even a book out of his father's library wasn't much help to him. So far, he had found nothing, absolutely nothing, about the serpent on his shoulder. It just wouldn't stop pressing on his mind. Hermione didn't seem as distracted by it as he was, probably because she had Potter and Weasley to keep her mind off of it. But there was also the time when she got dressed in the morning, or took a shower...ooh, taking a shower, that'd be nice to see...shut the fuck up Draco, he told himself sternly. Maybe he was just overreacting.

"Well," he said sarcastically, hardly realizing he was speaking aloud, "finding a serpent tattooed into your skin can't be anything out of the ordinary, no way."

"I beg your pardon?" a shrill voice exclaimed, piercing his thoughts. Draco blinked and looked over his shoulder. He didn't even need to completely turn around, as he saw a blurry figure with fire on top of their head.

"Ginny Weasley," he said, as if to top off his thoughts. "Fancy seeing you here. Now what are you up to today, nosing into other people's business? Looks like a winner to me."

Ginny scowled, picking up her books and preparing to move to another table. "Well for your information, Malfoy," she said, spitting out the word in disgust, "I was just minding my own business when you spoke aloud. Something rather interesting about a serpent. Now if you hadn't said anything then I wouldn't have said anything. See my point?"

"No, not really."

Ginny made a noise of impatience and slammed her books on the table, startling a few nearby students and earning herself a loud and hissing "Shhhh" from Madame Pince. "What don't you understand about that?" she demanded. "What is so confusing about it?"

"All I really see is that you really, really hate me, but apart from that I have no clue."

"Draco Malfoy, you are the most conceited and arrogant person I have ever met in my entire life!" she shouted. "And just to inform you, I don't think Hermione even really likes you, so you can just bugger off and get your own life, because you're making hers miserable." And with that, she picked her books back up and stomped off to another table, leaving Draco completely and utterly speechless.

***

Ginny dropped her books onto an empty table and promptly walked to the opposite side of the library where Draco was sitting and hid behind a bookcase. She hadn't really meant to say what she said. But it was the only thing she possibly knew of that could somehow insult him. She peeked around the corner of the bookcase she was hiding behind just in time to see Draco stand up and walk out of the library. Cursing, she hid her face in her hands. Now she had done it. She had really screwed things up this time. Draco was now under the impression that he made Hermione's life miserable. And it was all her fault. Completely and one hundred percent her fault. So now what was supposed to happen?

"Gin? Are you okay?"

Ginny immediately looked up and saw Ron standing above her, his face anxious and worried. He bent down and knelt beside her. "Oh Ron...I hadn't meant to say it and it just came out and...and oh Ron!" She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"What did you not mean to say?" he asked, patting her back. "Who were you talking to?"

"Well," she sniffed, "I heard Malfoy say something out loud and I just said 'I beg your pardon'. Then he insulted me, so I had to insult him back, and I said what would probably be the only thing to hurt him."

Ron looked blank for a moment before realization passed across his face. "Hermione..."

"Exactly," Ginny mumbled.

"What exactly did you say anyway?" Ron asked, fearing the worst.

"I said...well I said..." She paused, recalling the words she had just spoken only a few minutes ago. Draco Malfoy, you are the most conceited and arrogant person I have ever met in my entire life! And just to inform you, I don't think Hermione even really likes you, so you can just bugger off and get your own life, because you're making hers miserable.

"Gin?" Ron asked again, looking expectantly at her. When she didn't respond, he sighed. "Here, let's get you up to the Gryffindor Common Room and I'll get you some wine or something."

"I don't want wine," she said stubbornly, although she allowed Ron to help her to her feet. He shook his head firmly.

"Come on, let's go."

"Go where?" Ginny asked.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Never mind. You just go ahead and keep sulking and I'll try and find Hermione. Or Harry. Maybe they can talk to him."

Ginny looked up at him confusedly. "Why can't you just--."

"NO!" Ron practically shouted. Then, he added a bit more softly, "Ginny I hate the stupid bastard. He's too good for himself and he knows it, and that is worse."

"Fine," Ginny pouted. Then she gave a tremendous sigh.

***

Hermione stood just outside Professor Trelawney's classroom. Hermione, what are you doing here? She thought in a scolding manner. This is stupid. You know that nothing will be solved by visiting Trelawney. She's just a bat in oversized--

"Dearest, will you please step aside so I may get into my office?"

Hermione jumped nearly five feet high as this quiet but sudden voice came out of nowhere. She glanced around wildly and saw Professor Trelawney. herself, emerging from behind a tapestry. She opened her mouth to respond, but the professor held both of her hands up as if to silence her.

"I am getting the feeling that you need to talk to me about something," Trelawney. said, snapping her fingers. The trapdoor above their heads opened and a ladder descended.

"Well, yes, I do have something I'd rather like to discuss with you," Hermione said, recovering from her shock and folding her arms. Trelawney. gave her a speculating glance before nodding curtly.

"Alright then. Even though you walked out on my class nearly three and a half years ago, I will gladly allow you to step into my office. What was it you were wanting to speak to me about?"

Hermione opened her mouth yet again to respond, but Trelawney. gasped. "My, it's about a gentleman! Wait, two gentlemen! Yes, that is right." Hermione paused. Had Professor Trelawney. actually improved since she had last seen her? So far, she had accurately predicted two things...no, of course not, because the next statement from the professor clearly proved she was the same as ever. "Oh no, my mistake, you've come to me about a toad. A toad!" Hermione watched as the small Professor Trelawney. climbed the ladder, muttering all the while about toads and whatnot. Hermione followed, rather reluctantly.

"Professor, I was wondering if I could talk to you about two--ahh--two boys," Hermione said, scrunching her nose up at the odd smell of the room. It strongly smelled of peppermint tea. The air was so thick, one could hardly breath without being intoxicated with the fumes from the stifling fire.

"Boys?" Trelawney. said speculatively. "So I was right the first time. You see my dear, your planet is Mars, the planet of War and Destruction. There is a balance between the Earth and Mars. Now when that balance is disrupted, things will start to change for you until everything is set back on it's right course. Unless, this was meant to happen and it's a sign from the heavens..." The professor paused dramatically, her eyes misty with apprehension.

"Actually," Hermione began, "I basically wanted your insights on what I should do."

"Ahh. Right." The disappointed professor sat down at her office desk. "Now then. What is the problem."

Hermione bit her lip, hardly daring to believe she was confiding in the only professor she had never admired. Well, her and Snape. "You see, I'm having trouble deciding what to do with these two boys. One of them I love very dearly. The other...I still love but not in the same way as the first. But the second boy has been acting very strangely. And just recently, I found this on my shoulder." Hermione reached up and pulled the sleeve of her shirt down so the serpent could be revealed. Professor Trelawney. gasped.

"My dear...may I have a look at that again?" she whispered, and Hermione reluctantly agreed. "Oh this, this is something rare indeed. I knew something was different about you, though I couldn't quite place a finger on it. Now you listen here." Trelawney. stood up and walked over to a dusty bookcase in the far corner of the room that Hermione had never even knew had been there. She lifted a large book up off the shelf and placed it on the table. "First, you must not be startled by what I am about to tell you. Second, you mustn't tell anyone of what I am about to divulge to you. Understand?"

Hermione, despite her dislike for the professor, nodded in a hurried agreement. "I promise."

"Excellent. You see, that serpent isn't just an ordinary marking. Yes, it is common with death eaters, but this exact symbol has not been seen since the early times of Hogwarts. Not on a living human being anyway. That symbol means you have been Chosen."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Chosen? Okay, I knew this wasn't going to help." She stood up to leave but the serious look on the professor's face made her stop. "Go on."

"Being Chosen is a rare gift, only bestowed upon one special other. This mark signifies that you have a certain tie to an heir. And not just any old heir, but an heir to Salazar Slytherin himself."

"In other words, a connection?" Hermione asked, and Trelawney. nodded.

"You could say that. You see the fangs on this serpent?" Trelawney. asked, pointing to the serpent on her shoulder. "Take a look at the fangs. They are coated with blood."

Hermione shrugged. "So? What does that have to do anything?"

"That means that you will do the work for the heir of Salazar Slytherin. You cannot be killed, or altered, because of this mark. How long has it been there?"

"Well, I'd say a few days, maybe even a week or two."

Trelawney. closed her eyes. "Just as I presumed."

"Now wait a minute. I came here for an explanation about guys, not a stupid symbol," Hermione demanded. "Now you can go on and tell your kooky story to someone else, because I haven't got time for it." Hermione stood up.

"Well then," Trelawney. said, opening her eyes again, and she actually looked saddened. "At least take this book. It may help you."

Hermione snatched the book from the professor, kicked the trap door open and descended down the ladder.

***

Draco absentmindedly wandered through the corridors, not even sure where he was really going. That bitchy little red head had said the right thing to piss him off, hadn't she? No, no. Nobody ever got the best of Draco Malfoy. He wasn't angry, because he knew she had just said that in an attempt to make him mad. But, he paused, what if she had been right?

"Ha, yeah right," he said to himself. "She's a Weasley. A stupid little Weasley." Draco stood in front of the portrait to the Slytherin Common Room. Was he doing the right thing? Being friends with Hermione Granger...hell he had even complimented Potter yesterday. His reputation was slowly crumbling into a thousand tiny pieces, and there was no way he could put it back together unless he had some help. So what was he supposed to do? He placed a hand on the frame of the portrait that led to the common room. Did he really want to go in there? They were just a bunch of twisted loonies, the women whores and the men bastards. Was that really his fate? To serve the Dark Lord and end up like the rest of them? He sighed, taking a step back. No, that's not what he wanted to be. In fact, it was entirely the opposite. But he wouldn't admit that to himself until later.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked up, interrupted for the second time that day. It was, of all people, Ron Weasley. What the hell...

"Oh," Draco said somewhat stupidly, and Ron stared at him. "Hullo Weasley." He was half amused with the look on Ron's face and half disgusted and surprised with himself for not insulting the boy's hair or family or something. Ron seemed just as surprised because all he managed was a weak nod. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, just waiting for my date," Ron shrugged, leaning against the stone wall. Draco snorted, and Ron glared at him. "Yes Malfoy, I have dates. In fact her name is--."

"Wait a minute," Draco said. "Let me guess..." He closed his eyes, thinking of all the possible girls who would have agreed to date Weasley. "Aha, I've got it. You're taking Janice Featherstone aren't you?"

Ron pulled a face of disgust. "That slut? Hell no Malfoy."

"Okay," Draco paused. "Belladonna Chezslovak?"

"Urgh!" Ron cried out. "The Russian transfer student? No way! Her eyes are too far apart, and besides, nobody can understand half the things she says." (Author's Note: I have nothing against Russians, in fact I rather like them :p)

Draco nodded. "Right. Well sorry, I can't think of anyone else who could agree to date you."

"Uhh, Malfoy, it's Blaise Zabini," Ron pointed out, and Draco nearly yelled out in horror.

"Blaise Zabini? Damn Weasley you actually got her to go on a date with you? That's incredible, no offense." Seeing the look on Ron's face, he cleared his throat. "She's a fine woman. In fact I went out with her once or twice. But let me warn you, she's a horrible kisser. Shoves that damn tongue of hers halfway down your throat, that she does."

"Malfoy, you're not giving me advice or warning me or anything, are you?" Ron asked.

"Are you mental? I just said 'Let me warn you'. Or did you not catch that?"

Ron was spared from answering the question because the portrait opened and Blaise stepped out holding a large green book and looking absolutely stunning in a green, form fitting dress. Even Draco surveyed her with hidden satisfaction.

"Ron, there you are," she said in an icy tone. "Sorry I took so long, I was just getting ready. Had to look my best you know."

"Ahem, yes, of course." Ron offered her his arm and she took it gently. "Excuse us Malfoy," he said curtly. They began to walk off and Draco did a double take.

"Blaise!" he yelled. "Hold on a minute." She turned around and looked at him expectantly. "Could I borrow that book you're holding?" he asked. She looked down at the book and then back up at him.

"My book?" she asked. "Sure Draco. I was just about to drop it off at the library, but go right ahead. Just promise you'll take it back by the end of the day."

Draco took it from her. "Thanks. I'll be sure to do that." Ron was looking thoroughly annoyed at their delay, and Blaise caught sight of his expression.

"Oh, come on Ron, we'd best get going." And they were off. Draco looked down at the book in his hands with an odd gleam in his eye. He opened the book and flipped through a couple of the pages, and then snapped it shut, a large grin on his face. "I think," he said lowly, "that this is exactly what I've been looking for."

***

Harry opened the portrait hole and stepped inside, shaking his cloak out to get rid of the snow that had accumulated in the folds of his robes. Shivering slightly, he was about to go up the stairs to his dormitory and change into some warmer clothes but he saw Hermione. She was sitting on the top step, her legs crossed, a book propped on her lap. She was studying it intently, her face aglow and her eyes sparkling. Apparently, she hadn't seen or heard him come in, so he tiptoed up the first couple of steps and bent down low. With a swift movement of his hand, he seized her around the ankle and she screamed, a quick high-pitched squeak that made her drop the book and look down at him wildly.

"Harry James Potter," she breathed, closing her eyes and clutching her chest. She opened her eyes, intending to scold him to death, but the goofy grin on his face made her smile. "You got me good that time," she giggled, picking her book back up and smoothing the pages. Harry shrugged as if to say it was nothing. She pat the space beside her, and he climbed up the last few steps and sat down next to her, looking over her shoulder at the book.

"The Art of Divination: Myths and Symbols," he read aloud, frowning at the title. "Have you actually decided to take up Divination again?"

Hermione scowled. "Of course not. I just paid Trelawney. a little visit today and she gave me this book. I've been having, erm..." She paused. What would you call her situation? Hallucinations? She didn't quite know. "I've been having strange dreams, that's all."

"Sounds fascinating," Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes. Hermione punched him lightly on the arm. "Cool down, I was just teasing," he said quickly. "Really, it does sound pretty interesting. Dreams are always a lot of fun."

"Oh really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "And just what sort of dreams do you have, Mr. Potter?" She turned to the front of the book. "Perhaps a little look at the Kama sutra-related dreams..."

Harry nearly tumbled down the stairs in his attempt to take the book from her. He only succeeded in ripping part of the page out. "That really isn't necessary Hermione," he said quickly, his voice breaking. She grinned sinisterly at him, closing the book and setting it aside.

"So, in these erotic dreams, what do you see? Are you on top, or on bottom? Are you with a girl whom you know? Or perhaps it's not even a girl..."

"Hermione!" Harry yelled, turning red in the face and hiding his face in his hands.

Hermione laughed, throwing her head back and patting him on the back. "I'm just playing with you Harry," she teased. He still hid his face.

"Top," he mumbled.

"Sorry?" Hermione replied.

"Top," he replied. "In these dreams I'm on top."

For a minute, Hermione didn't say anything, a look of revulsion on her face. "You...you what?!" she shrieked. But now Harry was laughing. "Oh I see. You're teasing me now, aren't you?"

"Why of course Ms. Granger," Harry said in a professional manner. "But now the real question is: have you ever had such naughty dreams? I'm pretty sure you have, I mean, who hasn't?"

Hermione stared at the floor, appearing to be doing some serious thinking. "I might have had one once, but it was while I was away at Auror Training Camp. Probably under the influence of Draco." Harry made a gagging noise. "Oh stop it Harry, you know I'm kidding."

"You better have been. If I find out you've been having dreams about you and Malfoy...I'll personally make sure he'll never see you or anyone else for that fact again," he growled.

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed good-naturally. "How could I ever even consider such a thing with you around?" She placed both hands on his shoulders and he rested his head against her chest, closing his eyes. She stroked his hair, loving how soft and dark it was. And it always smelled so strongly of peppermint toothpaste. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his head still buried in her chest, and she bent to kiss the top of his head. But he looked up at almost the exact same moment and she landed on his nose. He grinned.

"I say we take this to the dormitories," he whispered deeply, and Hermione shivered involuntarily.

"I don't know," she said, but he had already picked her up in his arms and carried her into the boys' dormitory. After placing her on his bed, he closed the door hurriedly and used a locking charm.

"Now we won't be interrupted," he explained, and then kissed her quickly on the lips, rolling on top of her. Hermione was surprised at how he was kissing her. It was fiery and intense, as if he was hungry for something. As he ravenously kissed her, she felt his hands sliding down her back and up her shirt, caressing her smooth skin. Hermione mumbled softly in protest against his lips, saying something that sounded like 'what if we can't stop', but he ignored it. Instead, he brought his hands out from under her shirt and to the buttons. He immediately went to work, breaking their kiss for the first time as he fumbled with them.

"Harry?" she said aloud, and her voice was a little panicky. But he got her blouse open and slid it partially down her shoulders. Then he began planting kisses down the side of her neck, inching closer to his hopeful destination. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with passion and hunger. Once again, he captured her lips in a kiss that sent her mind reeling, heightening her want for him against her will. She felt his hands going down the sides of her hips to her skirt, and he slowly tugged it down.

"Harry that's enough!" she nearly shouted, and for the first time he stopped. She stared at him as if quite not understanding what had happened, and he stared back. She hadn't realized how hard she was breathing until this exact moment.

"Oh," he said suddenly. "I-I'm sorry, I guess, I mean I hadn't meant to be going that fast, I was just--," he stopped, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry too," she said. "I just didn't want this to go past, well, you know, snogging."

"Of course," Harry nodded, and he looked very put out. He rolled off of her, staring at the bed sheets.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said exasperatedly, crawling up next to him and snuggling into his chest. "You know I want to wait, and I know you do too. And it's hard, I know. It's very hard. You have to understand how we both would have felt if this turned into something bigger."

Harry sighed, a sigh that made her chest ache with pain for him. "You're right," he agreed. "I figured this would just be a little snog session like the rest of them, but I'm really not sure what might have happened if you hadn't stopped me. We could have actually had...er..."

"Sex?" Hermione offered. Harry turned bright red.

"Of course Herm," he mumbled. She sat up, leaning on her elbows. "I can't even say the word without getting embarrassed, so you can probably imagine what I would have been like if we'd actually gone through with it."

"My point exactly. Now don't think I didn't enjoy all that," she teased. "You're quite good, really. Probably the best snog session we've had so far, right? Well maybe not the best, it was a little short, but it certainly was the quickest."

Harry grinned weakly. "Yeah you are right about that." He paused, staring at her shoulder. "Hermione, what's that?"

She looked at him curiously, confused at first, and then it hit her: the serpent.

"Oh this?" she asked, pointing to the tattoo-like serpent. Harry nodded. "Oh it's just one of those fake muggle things, you know?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "It's pretty gruesome looking. Why not pick a happy butterfly or something?"

"Harry!" she yelled, in a teasing manner, and he grinned.

"Anyway, we'd better get you out of here. Don't know how long that locking charm will hold." Hermione nodded.

"Right. I'll just walk right out of here like nothing happened. What do you say to a little studying?" she offered. Harry made a face.

"No, you go ahead. I'm just going to lay down for a bit."

"Okay." Hermione rolled over to face him, looking into his eyes. She kissed him quickly on the mouth. "I'll see you later then," she said. "Get some rest." Then she got up and walked out the door.

Once she had gotten outside of the dorms, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to go to the girl's dormitories when she remembered her book, and how she had left it on the stairs. "Oh darn it." She hurried to the stairs, grabbed her book, and was about to walk away.

"Well, well," came an amused voice. Hermione shivered again, and dreading whom she was about to see, she turned around to face the speaker.

"Draco!" she wailed. "What are you doing here?" she suddenly became aware of her unbuttoned shirt, her messy hair, and her skirt that was partially halfway down her waist.

"I needed to show you something," he said urgently, and her eyes grew wide. "No, not that type of show you something," he said in disgust. "But, seeing as you're nearly half-undressed, it wouldn't be such a bad idea..."

"Draco!!" she shouted again, and setting the book down, she began to button up her shirt. Draco politely looked away, sitting down on the couch, although he secretly wished he could watch her. "Okay done," she said, and trudged down the stairs and sat down next to him on the couch. He looked at her for a brief second before looking back at the book he was holding in his hands.

"Remember the serpents?" he asked, lowering his voice a little. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, remember it? I see it every day!" she said stiffly.

"Right, of course. Anyway, I've been looking in a bunch of books for some answer to them, like why they are there, what they mean, you get the idea. I couldn't find anything at all. Nothing. Until I saw Blaise holding this," Draco said, holding the book up so she could see it.

"Blaise Zabini?" Hermione asked, leaning closer to look at the book. Draco nodded.

"So I asked her if I could borrow it. I was just flipping through the pages when I came across this. It sounds like a bunch of crap really, as it's in fairy-tale form, so to speak. But it fits the description of what's happening." He handed the book to her, pointing to the page he had turned to. She read it carefully.

Once the Slytherin's Heir and his true love unite, they are sealed with the mark of the serpent. The serpent represents Salazar Slytherin himself. Both of the seals will be identical to each other, except for the heir's. His will be void of any blood, while the lover's will have blood on the fangs. It symbolizes that she will do the work for him, killing anyone who stands in the way of the heir's rise to power. She cannot be killed.

"What the hell..." Hermione whispered.

"Pretty strange stuff, eh?" Draco asked.

"Yes, but...but..." She bit her lip fiercely, recalling what Trelawney. had told her. That means that you will do the work for the heir of Salazar Slytherin. You cannot be killed, or altered, because of this mark. "Draco," she said urgently. "I visited Trelawney. earlier."

Draco looked confused. "And this is important because..."

Hermione made a noise of impatience. "It's important because this is exactly what she told me. She said that the sign is common with death eaters, but this exact symbol has not been seen since the early times of Hogwarts. Not on a living human being anyway. She said the symbol means I have been Chosen. Apparently, being Chosen is a rare gift, only bestowed upon one special other. This mark signifies that I have a certain tie to an heir. And not just any old heir, but an heir to Salazar Slytherin himself. She said that since the fangs are coated with blood, on my serpent, that I would do the work for the heir of Salazar Slytherin himself. And I cannot be killed."

Draco stared at her for a long time, a look of concentration on his face. "So you're saying that...that she told you all of this before I showed you the book? And that you are the heir's true love, or whatever they want to call it?" Hermione nodded slowly. "Ahh," he said, looking crestfallen. "Right." There was an awkward silence, in which Draco cleared his throat and Hermione twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. "You know," Draco said, breaking the silence, "someone once told me that I would do something big someday. Now don't look at me like that, because it's true. What if this is what they were talking about?"

"Stop right there," Hermione said. "I'm curious to know something. Why would this happen to me, of all people? Has it happened before in the past? I mean surely we would have seen or heard of something by now."

"I honestly don't know any more than you do Hermione. Now we just need to track down this heir and make sure you two never meet..."

"Draco," Hermione said slowly.

"Yes?"

"You're that person aren't you..."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The serpent, idiot!" she yelled in frustration. "It's not like I'm the only one who has it. Besides, you clearly fulfill all the requirements of the heir of Slytherin."

"Okay, now you've gone one step too far," Draco said, but he looked like he was starting to believe that fact as well. "Okay, so I am a direct descendant of Slytherin. And my relatives have had a history of being descendants as well. And I do have the serpent."

"So if you're the heir of Slytherin, and I'm the prophesied 'pawn', then does this mean..."

Realization hit the both of them. (A/N: finally, eh?) They slowly turned to look at each other. "Okay," Draco said, "don't panic."

"Don't panic, right," Hermione said breathlessly, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Not all prophecies come true anyway. This could be some stupid, well, you know," she said.

"Let's just hope that's all it is. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like taking over the world. At least not at the moment," Draco shrugged. Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead suddenly.

"Oh no," she muttered, shaking her head.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Harry," she said suddenly. "What will he say?"

Draco rolled his eyes and shrugged again. "I don't really care. Why does he need to know in the first place?" he pointed out. Hermione bit her lip, looking back up at the door that led to the dormitories.

"I just feel like I've kept so many things from him, and I just don't want him to get hurt, that's all."

"Hermione," Draco said, "do you really think Harry has told you everything?"

"Everything about what?"

"I don't know," Draco said, clearly frustrated. "If he had a dream about dancing women clad only in their stockings, do you think he'd tell you?"

Hermione glared at him. "This isn't about nude dancers, it's something different."

Draco raised his hands up in defense. "I know, but I'm just saying: you don't have to tell him unless he doesn't ask. You're not lying if you just don't bring it up."

"Okay, okay. I won't say anything unless he asks. But!" she added, folding her arms. "You can't say anything about it either."

"Yeah," Draco said, "sure Hermione. Like I want to go around saying I'm the prophesied heir of Slytherin and I've got a Gryffindor as my whore, whom I can do anything and everything I want with." He stopped at the hurt and angry look on Hermione's face. "I wasn't referring to you as a whore of course," he explained hurriedly. "Well maybe I was, but not in that fashion." He threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I apologize for calling you a whore, one thing you most definitely are not. Although I might change my mind if you have sex with Potter again, especially while I'm within a mile of you."

Hermione's mouth opened in shock. "Draco!" she shouted, and then quieted her voice. "We did not have, well, sex," she whispered. Draco sighed deeply and crossed his arms, aggravating her further.

"Hermione, Hermione," he said, in a pitying manner. "You can't lie about things like this. You come out here with your shirt unbuttoned, your hair a mess, and your skirt halfway down. What am I supposed to believe? I guess I was wrong about Potter staying a virgin until he was

Thirty-four."

"First of all, it was a snog. Clearly not the aforementioned word sex. And besides, what business of it is yours if I go around sleeping with all of the Gryffindor men?"

"Well, if you had slept with Potter, technically it wouldn't be men. More like boys," Draco said thoughtfully. "Plus, the thought of you and Potter actually fooling around like that makes me sick to my stomach."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? That always means you're jealous. What if I told you Harry had the biggest--."

"Hermione that's enough," Draco said firmly.

"--muscles," Hermione finished, a sinister grin on her face. "He really does. Probably from Quidditch."

"What do you mean from Quidditch? He hardly ever does anything. Just flies around on his broom yawning and stretching his arms. Occasionally, the snitch flies right into his hand and he wins. And I absolutely do not want to hear about Potter's muscles or anything like that." He shuddered uncontrollably. "It's really disgusting."

"Alright!" Hermione grinned, crossing her legs. Draco rested his forehead on the palm of his hand, staring at her unnoticeably.

"Hermione," he said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"What if I told you," he began, scratching his forehead, "that I thought you were...well, that you were..." He cursed himself inwardly. He was trying to say 'what if I told you that I thought you were the prettiest woman I've ever seen', but it didn't quite come out the way he wanted it to. "What if I told you that I was extremely hungry for a sandwich?" That really is the stupidest thing you've said in a while, Draco Malfoy, he told himself mercilessly.

Hermione stared at him. "Then I would tell you to go and get one." She accentuated that by pointing to the table on the other side of the room, which was stacked high with sandwiches. Draco blanched.

"Ahh. Okay. I think I'll get one. All they have in the Slytherin Common Room is rat eyes and spleens and stuff. You want one?" he asked.

"If you mean a sandwich, then sure," Hermione said, sticking her tongue out playfully. Draco stood up and crossed to the other side of the room grabbing himself a sandwich and then taking the plate to Hermione.

"I'd best get going," he said, cramming the sandwich in his mouth. "I haff wok to be dooing."

"Okay," Hermione giggled, setting the plate of sandwiches next to her and standing up. She very quickly and very sweetly kissed him on the tip of his nose, and when she drew back, her cheeks were crimson. "Thanks for showing me the book. It answered a lot of questions." Draco, who had been looking silent and blank ever since she kissed him, jerked back to attention.

"Oh yes, no problem, anytime," he said quickly. He turned to leave but then he paused. "Hermione?" he asked. "I have a stupid question for you."

Hermione looked concern. "Go for it."

"Well, I just wanted to know it I...well, if I made your life miserable." He kicked himself mentally.

"Oh Draco!" Hermione gasped. "Of course you don't! How could you ever say, or think of such a thing?"

"Oh no reason," Draco lied. "Just wanted to make sure I was wanted." And with that, he hurried out of the Gryffindor Common Room as fast as his long legs would carry him.