Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Hermione Granger Lord Voldemort
Genres:
Drama Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 09/21/2002
Updated: 01/13/2004
Words: 91,233
Chapters: 9
Hits: 11,050

The Makings of an Auror

Clara_Barnes

Story Summary:
When Hermione and Draco, both Head Students of Hogwarts, are asked to go to an Auror Training Camp by Dumbledore, neither of them know exactly what they are in for.

Chapter 09

Posted:
01/13/2004
Hits:
1,210
Author's Note:
Three words: It...is...here!!

The Makings of an Auror

Chapter Nine

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

The evening was a dark and warm one, the stars and moon obscured by the dense ceiling of branches. Somewhere in the forest a twig snapped, and Draco spun around, his grip on Hermione's arm tightening. She winced.

"Who's there?" he called out. Silence. "Come on... don't be a coward...show yourself!!" Silence.

Hermione shivered as the wind blew threw the leaves, an eerie whistling sound filling the void of silence. "Draco, I'm sure it was nothing," she whispered. "Let's just get out of here and back to Dumbledore."

"Hermione, we can't...I know I saw someone out here...you..." Draco said suddenly, his voice full of malice. "So it is true. You have come." Hermione gasped as she spotted whom Draco was talking to. A tall, slender figure was standing only a few feet from them. The light from Draco's wand gave the person, or creature, a supernatural look. The robes it wore were very fine; black material edged in silver with a giant clasp at the throat. The cloaked figure sneered. "I have come, yes, but do you know who I am?"

Draco paused. He was assuming this person was Voldemort, but the way in which he was speaking...it just didn't seem to fit his character. There was something about the person that made Draco shiver. Almost like he...like he knew him. "Of course I know who you are. Now quit beating around the bush and tell us the real reason why you're here."

"Oh but that would be way, way too easy. You must be one of the Aurors they were speaking of. I should have known. Of course you wouldn't tell me if you'd decided to join their side. My dear Draco, haven't I told you before never to get mixed up with the ministry?" The cloaked figure finally lowered his hood, and it took all that Draco had not to yell and attack the person. For it was his father, looking as menacing and threatening as ever. Lucius Malfoy reached into his robe pocket and drew out his wand, and the veins in his slender bony hands popped out, contrasting horribly against his pale skin. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Fuck you," Draco said quietly.

Lucius Malfoy sneered. "You better watch that mouth of yours. It'll get you into big trouble someday."

"Well you know what they say," Draco said nonchalantly. "Like father like son?"

"Don't even begin to compare yourself to me," his father said dangerously, his eyes flashing with something that Hermione recognized as hatred. She knew, because it was the same spark he had in his eyes every time he laid them upon her.

"Why, because you know I amount to more?"

"Silence!"

Hermione, who had retreated to watching the scene behind the protection of Draco, shuddered as Lucius spoke. She could see Draco shaking with rage, his hands becoming sweaty, and wondered if Lucius had noticed this too.

"You're shaking boy," Lucius said, almost as if reading Hermione's mind. "Are you afraid?"

"No, I'm restraining myself from beating the living hell out of you," Draco said calmly. "But I'm afraid I can't hold out much longer."

Lucius folded his arms. "Of course you won't last much longer. You've never had much self-control and discipline over yourself. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to attack me now."

Hermione stepped out from behind Draco. "All right, I hate to break up this tender moment between the both of you, but this has got to stop," she said.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Mudblood Granger," Lucius snarled.

Hermione didn't even flinch. "Draco, we need to end this now, in case there are more Death Eaters out there," she whispered in his ear. Draco nodded slightly, gripping his wand tighter and raising his chin. Hermione raised her wand. "Lucius Malfoy, we are placing you under arrest for treason against the Ministry of Magic, for being an active member of the D.E.A.T.H alliance, or as you would call it, the Death Eater Association Troop Headquarters, and--."

But she didn't have time to finish, because at that exact moment, Lucius had brought out his wand and cast a spell on her that neither Draco nor Hermione had heard of before. Hermione stood still, unsure of what he had just done, but then she felt a horrible feeling in her stomach, and she dropped to her knees, coughing and spluttering.

"What have you done to her?" Draco asked, trying to keep calm and not panic as he knelt down next to Hermione.

"It'll keep her quiet for the time being," Lucius said.

"I asked you, what did you do to her?" Draco yelled, as Hermione coughed up a thick bluish liquid.

"If you must know, it's a spell I invented. Acid is eating away at her vital organs, and I'd say she has about two hours before she dies."

"God damn you to hell," Draco said, before aiming his wand at Lucius and shouting out a spell. But Lucius had been quicker, and before he knew it, everything was black.

***

Draco awoke from his sleep, feeling as if he had just run a marathon, his breath coming out in short ragged gasps. What was it with this dream? For the past week, he had had the same one. And each time, it ended with him getting killed, or knocked out. He didn't know which. He sat up, wincing as his feet came into contact with the stone floor. Everytime he had the dream, it would wake him up at two in the morning, and he would be unable to get back to sleep. He would try, sometimes ending up laying in bed thinking until he heard his other dorm mates rustling as the sound of footsteps out in the common room grew more magnified as more and more people rushed off to breakfast. So he would usually get out of bed beforehand, dress quietly into his robes, and then stroll out onto the Hogwarts grounds, sometimes even going as far as the lake.

"Why," he asked himself quietly, as he stared up at the ceiling of the Slytherin boy's dormitories. "Why do I keep having this dream?" Was it a vision of the future? Would it really happen? Or had he just had too much to eat before he went to sleep...it was Goyle's fault for sneaking the cookies from the kitchen up to the dorms anyway. But either way, it was very disturbing. What about Hermione? His mind told him. Maybe if you told her, she could get you Relatension Potion, for some dreamless sleep. No, no, his mind argued, almost as if with itself. You can get it yourself. You didn't get on Snape's good side for nothing. Sighing, he followed his usual routine, getting out of bed, quickly throwing on a thick robe and some shoes, and he made his way upstairs to the Common Room.

***

Hermione stepped out from behind Draco. "All right, I hate to break up this tender moment between the both of you, but this has got to stop," she said.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Mudblood Granger," Lucius snarled.

Hermione didn't even flinch. "Draco, we need to end this now, in case there are more Death Eaters out there," she whispered in his ear. Draco nodded slightly, gripping his wand tighter and raising his chin. Hermione raised her wand. "Lucius Malfoy, we are placing you under arrest for treason against the Ministry of Magic, for being an active member of the D.E.A.T.H alliance, or as you would call it, the Death Eater Association Troop Headquarters, and--."

But Hermione didn't have time to finish, because at that exact moment, Lucius had brought out his wand and cast a spell on her that neither Draco nor Hermione had heard of before. Hermione stood still, unsure of what he had just done, but then she felt a horrible feeling in her stomach, and she dropped to her knees, coughing. Her insides were on fire, as if they were being burned to a crisp, and she cried out. A bluish liquid was dripping from her mouth, and in disgust she wiped it away, swallowing, but this only caused her to start coughing even more.

"What have you done to her?" she heard Draco ask.

"It'll keep her quiet for the time being," Lucius said.

"I asked you, what did you do to her?" Draco yelled. He had his hands on her shoulders and was squeezing her tightly.

"If you must know, it's a spell I invented. Acid is eating away at her vital organs, and I'd say she has about two hours before she dies."

"God damn you to hell," Draco said, and Hermione watched him aim his wand at Lucius and shout out a spell. But Lucius had been quicker, and before she knew it, he had collapsed to the floor.

"No," she said quietly. "This can't be happening. This isn't what's supposed to happen!"

"Alright then, you tell me how it was supposed to go," Lucius said nonchalantly.

"You...you weren't supposed to be here. It was Voldemort. Voldemort was supposed to kill Draco!" She clutched her stomach as she had another spasm of coughs.

"Voldemort, eh? Where would you get a stupid idea like that? Voldemort is no longer the most powerful wizard. I have surpassed him, and have become far greater than he could ever imagine!"

Her vision became blurred around the edges, and as she tried to stand up, a whirl of colors flooded her vision and she collapsed back to the floor. "You'll get yours," she said. "You will."

"We'll see about that," Lucius said dangerously.

***

Hermione awoke from her sleep, her eyes burning and her head aching. Dully, she looked around at her surroundings, trying to remember where exactly she was. She had fallen asleep on the couch of the Gryffindor Common Room, and that wasn't a good place to fall asleep, for one usually awoke with an aching back. The fire had died down to a few cinders, and sighing, she sat up and pointed her wand at the grate. "Incendio," she croaked, and the fire sprung to life, causing her to shield her eyes momentarily from the sudden light.

"The same dream," she wondered aloud. "Always the same." She stood up, letting the coverlet she had been using fall to the floor. Crookshanks, who had been lying next to the couch, gave a hiss as the coverlet fell on top of him. Hermione smiled slightly and picked it up, placing it back on the couch. Usually when she would have dreams like the one she'd just had, she'd never be able to get back to sleep. So she'd sneak off to the library. The quiet atmosphere was relaxing, and she liked the smell of leather-bound, dust-covered pages. And so that is what she decided to do. She grabbed her cloak (the corridors could be a bit drafty at times during the winter) and exited the common room through the portrait hole. Being Head Girl did have its perks; she usually could get away with wandering the corridors at early hours of the morning.

As she exited the portrait hole, she noticed a slumped over figure leaning against a statue of Adrelus Duggan. "Oh Neville," she muttered exasperatedly. She didn't feel like waking him, but as Head Girl, she should do her duty. With a mental groan, she tiptoed over and tapped Neville on the back. He gave a startled yelp, rubbing his eyes. When he spotted Hermione, his shoulders sagged with relief.

"Oh Hermione," he said. "Could you please--."

"The password is Rubblecork, and please don't forget it, or I'll be forced to take points away," she said sadly. Neville muttered his thanks and tromped into the Common Room, and a few seconds later, she heard a thump which could only mean Neville had fallen asleep again.

Having set things to rights, she resumed walking to the library, trying to think of a cheery tune to take her mind off the dream. But she was distracted, when she spotted a student ahead of her. Thinking them to be a sneaky fifth year, she quickened her pace. "All right, why are you wandering around the corridors at this time?" she asked. "You know it's forbidden..." The person, startled, turned around to face her.

"None of your business," the person, obviously a boy, said. She couldn't see his face in the light, but their voice sounded familiar.

"Well you know that my being Head Girl gives me the right--."

"Hermione?"

She paused. "Draco?" she asked uncertainly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, and as he stepped closer to her, the moonlight from the window overhead illuminated his tired but surprised face.

"I--I had trouble sleeping," she lied. Well, that wasn't entirely incorrect.

"The feeling is mutual," Draco agreed, pressing the back of his hand to his eyes. "Anyway, where are you headed?"

"Library," Hermione responded. "Sometimes it helps me clear my mind."

"Do you want me--."

"No," she said, and a little too quickly, for Draco looked mildly stunned. "I mean, well, I like to be alone. Anyway, where were you going?"

"Me?" he asked, pointing to him self. "Outside. That's where I usually go," he added.

"Oh, okay," Hermione said. There was a long pause. "Well then, I'll see you at breakfast?"

Draco looked hesitant. "Breakfast?"

"Yes, you know, it's a meal."

"I don't usually go to breakfast anymore," Draco said with a shrug. "But if you'd like, I'll go."

"Alright then," she said, and they parted.

***

"Draco! I haven't seen you at breakfast in ages," Pansy said happily, flashing him an open mouthed smile as he sat down across from her. He hid his disgust with a quick smile.

"Yeah, we've been thinking you've gone mad," Crabbe agreed, stuffing his face with bagels and rolls. "Food is the best."

"How silly of me to have forgotten that," Draco said distractedly, glancing at the Gryffindor table.

"By the way," Goyle said, and he actually lowered his fork. "What were you dreaming about last night? We heard you muttering things in your sleep. You were talking about some girl. And you were breathing really hard."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, slyly looking at Draco. "Well then, who'd you manage to lay this time? A slutty Gryffindor--."

"This is why idiots should not reproduce," Draco said, more to himself. "Sorry guys, I only came here to grab a bit of toast. But I must get going now, don't want to keep the slut waiting." He had promised Hermione he'd be at breakfast, but Crabbe. Goyle, and Pansy under the impression that he had sex dreams did not do anything to heighten his appetite. He stood up, making sure to grab some toast, and then started walking out of the Great Hall. As he passed the Gryffindor table, he dropped a crumpled up piece of paper in Hermione's lap without even blinking.

***

"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled.

Hermione, who had been busy staring at her plate, jumped a few feet into the air. "Ron! For goodness sake quit yelling at me," she snapped.

"Well you weren't paying attention!" Ron protested. "You've been quiet all morning, you've got blue circles under your eyes, you keep yawning, AND the girls from your dorm all say you weren't in your bed this morning! What is wrong with you?" he asked.

"Nothing is the matter," she lied. "I had trouble sleeping so I went down to the couch. Girls snore too. Then I got up early to drop off some books at the library. So quit harping, you sound like your mum."

Ron's face turned a series of red and purple, so Harry, who had been silent during the whole discussion, stuck a plate in front of Ron's face and cheerfully said "Muffins!"

Ron blinked. "Muffins?"

"Yes!" Harry nodded, an idiotic grin on his face. "They're blueberry this morning."

Ron gave Harry a look of disgust. "Aren't you even worried about Hermione?!" he shrieked.

"Yes," Harry said quietly, and he averted his gaze from Ron as he set the plate down. "But clearly she doesn't want to talk about it, so I'm keeping my mouth shut."

Hermione looked up from her plate, and Harry caught her gaze. She mouthed the words 'thank you', an appreciative smile on her face. Harry turned red and stuffed an entire muffin into his mouth.

"Well fine," Ron said.

She would have replied, but the sight of Draco storming past the Gryffindor table distracted her. She was about to turn back to her food when she discovered a crumpled piece of paper in her lap. She looked up at Harry and Ron. They were having an animated discussion about Quidditch, Harry flailing his arms around in what must have been an imitation of the snitch, and Ron was holding an imaginary broomstick, his arm outstretched. Obscurely, she smoothed the paper out and read it. She cast another glance at Ron.

"--and then he dove and BAM! Nearly hit a bludger..."

Looking back at the paper, she read, 'prefect meeting room after breakfast...from sleepless Lambert hater. Hermione, who couldn't help but grin, crumpled up the paper and placed it inside her pocket. When she looked up, Ron and Harry were both staring at her. She jumped. "Damn it guys, what is with you? I'm fucking tired of this!!" she said out of shock, placing a hand on her chest. Harry's eyes popped out and Ron goggled at her.

"You cursed..." Ron croaked.

"Your point is?" she snapped.

"You never do..." Harry agreed.

"Oh I'm sick of this. Sick of you two treating me like I'm a mental patient from St. Mungo's! And Ron, close your mouth you look like a clown fish out of water." She stood up, grabbing her book bag. "Now I'm going to go do some research, and I'll be fine on my own," she said, more so to Harry, who had opened his mouth to say something to her. "See you at lunch." And with that, she trudged out of the Great Hall.

As soon as she had left, Harry groaned and let his head drop to the table, his forehead colliding with the hard wood with an unpleasant thunk. "She hates me," he groaned.

Ron laid a reassuring hand on Harry's back. "No she doesn't. It's probably just..." He dropped his voice several notches and whispered, "--that time of month. You know?"

Harry looked up at Ron, a revolted yet understanding look on his face. "Yeah, that's probably all it is." However, he resumed his resting position against the table.

"Hello guys," said a tired voice. Ron looked up as Neville sat down in front of them. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

"Not at all," Ron said, moving Harry's plate out of the way. Neville sat down gratefully.

"What's wrong with Harry?" Neville asked. "He looks a little...bummed out. And where's Hermione?"

"We're having Hermione problems," Ron said sadly. Neville looked interested. "We think it's that...time of month..."

"Oh good God Ron, do you have to tell everyone?" Harry said exasperatedly.

Neville looked understanding. "I saw Hermione last night," he added, and Ron and Harry both stared at him. "I mean, I had fallen asleep," Neville added in an embarrassing tone. "Outside of the portrait. I forgot the password, you know? Anyway, it must have been two in the morning, but she found me and gave me the password. Except she never went back in with me. Walked off in another direction. Is that a symptom of...you know..."

"Not sure," Ron shrugged. "Cramps maybe?"

"Ron, please!" Harry moaned. "Enough."

"Could it really be the reason though?" Ron wondered. "What if she's not just cranky with us? What if she's up to something?"

Harry sighed. "I'm an all around prick."

"No you're not."

Harry looked at him sternly.

"Well...maybe."

"We'll just have to see," Harry said tonelessly.

***

Hermione was in no mood to be messed with. She was surprised she didn't feel guilty as she stormed out of the Great Hall. But the whole talk of her not looking well, her being with Draco, and every other thing she could think of, was pressing on her mind. She wanted to get away from it all, to go back to the wonderful summer she had had, before the tattoos, before the Auror Training, before...she gulped. Draco. It was his fault for making her drift away from Harry. His fault for making her become so emotionally attached to him. His fault for making her cares less about studying. And if she ran into him right now, she'd tell him that she wished she'd never gone to the Auror Training with him--

"Hermione!"

Closing her eyes, she slowly turned around to face the voice. She already knew who it was. She opened her eyes. Yes. Draco. "Draco," she said wearily.

Draco looked at her cautiously, worry written all over his face. "Are you okay? You don't look--."

"God damn it to hell if you're about to say I don't look well," she snapped, her voice shaking. Draco was a good deal taken-aback.

"Come inside," he managed to say, stepping aside to allow her passage into the abandoned prefects meeting room. She stood still for a moment, not moving, until she finally took a step forward, sinking onto a couch near the fire. Draco sat next to her. All of a sudden, he didn't feel like his dreams were of any importance. He was more worried about Hermione. "Tea?" he offered. Hermione waved this aside, clutching her stomach and closing her eyes. Draco watched her all the while, an unreadable emotion on his face.

"What if I told you," she began, "that I hated it here. That I wanted to get out. That I never wanted to see anybody here again."

Draco sucked in a breath of air sharply. "I'd say you were delirious. Ill. In need of medical attention." He smiled gently, and for a brief second, Hermione forgot all her troubles as she watched him smile a smile she'd never seen before. It was a loving, caring one, and she wondered if he had just opened his soul to her. But as quickly as she had seen it, it disappeared. "Is there anything you'd like to discuss?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before she stood up. Draco remained seated, observing her as she paced the room. "Draco, I feel as if I'm not me. I feel like someone else. I do not feel attracted to Harry at all, Ron seems like a nuisance, and even my schoolwork...I've abandoned it, my grades are slipping. I want to get rid of it all. Sometimes I consider taking out my wand and blowing everything away."

"Hermione," he began. "I think this has something to do with the prophecy..."

"Fuck the prophecy!" she yelled, her voice trembling, and without warning, she collapsed to the floor, her head buried in her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Draco dashed out of his chair, kneeling on the floor next to her, taking her into his arms. For a minute, they both sat there, Draco caressing her tenderly, smoothing her hair, while Hermione buried her face in his chest, crying like she hadn't since she was a young girl.

"It's all right," he said softly, as he felt her sobs subsiding. "Take a deep breath. That's a good girl."

She looked up at him, not bothering trying to hide her tear-streaked cheeks. "What is happening to me," she managed to say. "I feel as if I'm not Hermione anymore."

"Well I tried explaining before, but you used a bit of vulgarity against me..."

Hermione laughed softly, but her laughing turned to coughing, an awful cough that racked her lungs. She snuggled closer to him, her head resting against his chest, and she felt the frantic beating of his heart. "Did I scare you?" she wondered aloud.

"You didn't scare me, but certainly startled me," he said truthfully. She didn't respond to this. She just sat there, her head still against his chest, enjoying the feel of his hands running through her hair, massaging her back...

"Draco," she said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"I think I love you."

"..."

The silence that followed was indescribable. No noise at all, no crackling of flames, no more of Draco's heartbeat...everything just went quiet.

"No," Draco said, shatteringly. "No, you don't love me. You're just weak. Misread emotions. You are, in truth, my best friend Hermione. And I think you partially feel the same way."

"That's not true Draco!" she protested.

"Yes, it is," he said harshly.

"Then why would I do this?" she said fiercely, and she captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. Draco went tense, his hands paused their caressing motion, and he went rigid. Hermione didn't relent, however. She persisted, kissing him with every bit of passion, every bit of emotion she had in her, speaking to him through her actions. However hard he may try, he could not resist her any longer. Giving in, he kissed her back, cupping her face with his hands. Hermione grabbed a fistful of his shirt and untucked them from his trousers, pulling them up and over his head in a hurried fashion, breaking the kiss for the first time.

"Herm?"

She recaptured his mouth again, her hands running down his bare chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. She pulled at the belt on his trousers, and he gently pushed her hands away.

"You've got to stop..."

"No!" she protested, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her as she lay down on the hard floor of the prefects meeting room. Draco was using every last ounce of strength he had not to take her and do her right then and there, but when she pulled him on top of her, his body crushing hers, that line of strength seemed to have snapped. Before he could stop himself, he had unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside, attacking her sensitive flesh with his mouth. She tasted so good he could hardly help himself. He ran his hands up and down her legs, inching further and further up her skirt. She pressed up against him, moaning as he hit a sensitive spot below her ear. But before he could go any further, he heard footsteps coming down the corridors.

"Hermione!" he said hurriedly, pulling away from her. She heard the footsteps too, and stood up, looking around wildly.

"What do we do?" she asked breathlessly.

"It's probably just students getting out of breakfast," Draco said, pulling his shirt back on. "They shouldn't need to come here." There was an awkward silence that followed. Draco was feeling tremendously stupid for not keeping himself under control. And he was also furious with himself. "Well..." he began. "Are you feeling any better?"

Hermione stared at him, her mouth slightly open. "That's all you have to ask me? Are you feeling any better?"

"But I--."

"Apparently you don't really care if I love you or not, you just want me around so you can snog me in the prefects meeting room!"

"Hermione that's not fair--."

"Well guess what Draco, life's not fair."

"Now hold up one damn moment will you?" Draco yelled. "You were the one who kissed me!"

"You weren't exactly in a hurry to stop me..."

"You didn't let me!"

"I never saw you make a move to stop me--."

"You pushed me away!"

Draco and Hermione glared at each other, Hermione flopping down onto the couch and Draco sitting on the long wooden conference table. How am I going to patch this one up, he thought wearily. As much as he wanted to believe Hermione really did love him, it just wasn't possible. Friends could get like that sometimes. You think you fall in love with one of them and it's really just a stronger level of friendship than you thought possible. Yes that had to be it. And even if she DID love him, she had Harry. Perfect Potter-boy. If he could get his hands on that boy's throat...oh the things he would do--

"Draco I've got to go," Hermione said, interrupting his trail of thought. She stood up, grabbing her blouse off the floor and doing a double check on her hair and clothes. "I'll see you around." But before she could leave, Draco had stood up and raced over to her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close to him.

"Listen Hermione," he said lowly. "If you ever feel the need to talk to me, ever, then just...just do it okay? I don't want you feeling like this again. Not the love part, but the destruction part. Because if what the prophecy says is true--," he watched as her eyes darkened at the mention of it, "then we're going to be in serious trouble."

She bit her lip before nodding slowly, and then she turned and exited the room.

***

On the other side of the castle, Professor Dumbledore sat in his office, looking over the parchment in his hand with a grave and serious face. The door to his office opened with a creak, and Professor McGonagall hurried into the room, her face as white as Nearly Headless Nick.

"Headmaster," she panted, clutching her chest. "Is it true? Is what you said true?"

The elderly wizard looked up, peering at the other professor over his half-moon spectacles. "Yes, Minerva, it is true." He held out the parchment to her and she took it weakly, sinking into an armchair.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, once she had finished reading the parchment.

"We," Dumbledore started, "are going to have a meeting."

***

Hermione entered the Staff Meeting Room a couple hours later, looking respectable with her hair tied up in a bun, and wearing a simple button-up blouse with muggle jeans. As she entered the room, she noticed Professors Snape, Trelawney, and Sprout were all ready there. Snape was looking sour as usual, Trelawney had her eyes closed, and Sprout was filling out paperwork with a large muddy quill.

"Good evening Professors," Hermione said, sitting down next to Professor Sprout, who gave her a weak smile before returning to her paperwork. Hermione set down her parchment and quill, leaning back in her chair to ponder what on earth could have caused Dumbledore to hold an emergency meeting. Had someone run away from Hogwarts? Gotten lost in Hogsmeade? She did not know.

A few minutes later, Draco entered the room, wearing a black shirt with black trousers, and his hair hung in his face. It was clear he had just finished taking a shower, because there was a strong smell of soap in the air. Hermione looked at him, expecting him to sit next to her, but instead he sat at the end of the table, on the right hand side of Snape. Hermione scowled.

She eventually grew weary of waiting, resting her forehead against her palm. Her stomach gave an embarrassingly loud grumble. She hadn't really eaten breakfast or lunch. How she wished she could be back in the common room, eating the cookies some of the second years had sneaked in the evening before.

Professor Dumbledore entered the room at last, wearing a worried expression. He carried nothing except a small, pocket-sized mirror, which he promptly placed inside his robe pocket before he sat down. The professors who had been dozing jumped slightly and rubbed their eyes, while the ones who had been awake looked grateful he had finally arrived.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Professor Dumbledore began. "I was just in my office having a conversation with the Minister of Magic."

"Professor, if you don't mind me asking, what is the occasion of this meeting?" Draco asked, and a few of the professors nodded in agreement to his question.

"Patience, Mr. Malfoy, patience. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room. Do not tell your students, or in our Head Student's cases, your friends. What is said in here stays here."

Hermione straightened in her chair, leaning forward; eager to catch every word the headmaster was about to say.

"There has been news," Dumbledore said, "that all of the prisoners of Azkaban have escaped."

There was a murmur of shock as Dumbledore revealed the news. "But Headmaster!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "If the prisoners have escaped, then that means--."

"It means that the dementors are no longer at their stations," Dumbledore said quietly. "Now why they are not at their stations, I do not know. But every Death Eater, every murderer, every thief, is now free."

Draco shook his head, clenching his fist. "Well then, what are we going to do about it?"

Professor Dumbledore turned his piercing stare on Draco, who shifted in his seat. "We are only going to increase Hogwarts' security. Put a few more prefects on the night shift. And we'll have to have the professors escort students to class--."

"But Headmaster," Hermione interrupted, and soon every eye in the room was upon her. "I really don't think we should have the professors escort the students to class."

"Why not, Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well, if the students don't know about this yet, won't they find it a bit odd? Some of them might get curious, do a bit of investigating, and eventually, the whole school will go into a state of panic."

Professor McGonagall looked thoughtful. "She has a point."

"Why didn't I think of that myself?" Dumbledore said, and he gave her a smile. "Brilliant, Hermione."

"I have a few resources," Snape said, in a slimy tone, "they might be able to give us information about the dementors. Former Death Eaters they are, and have more information than I could dream of." Snape fell silent.

"Excellent Severus. Tell me if they have anything useful for us. Minerva, I want you to contact the Unspeakables please, and if they don't allow you permission then just tell them Dumbledore sent you with the news, 'Poricetorice'."

Professor McGonagall looked slightly confused, but she nodded anyway. "I will do so, Headmaster."

"Hermione and Draco, you need to have a prefect meeting. Only tell them that I have requested tightened security in the evenings, and then draw up schedules for them."

"And if they ask questions..." Draco began.

"Answer what you think is relevant, and not what is irrelevant."

***

"Dumbledore has requested that we tighten security at night," Hermione announced, and there were groans throughout the room. They had started the prefects meeting almost immediately after Dumbledore had called for a staff meeting.

"Why?" a Slytherin sixth year asked haughtily. "If we're going to give up sleep to walk around corridors at night, yawning and freezing our butts off, I think we have a right to know."

"If the headmaster requests something, it shall be done," Draco snapped. "Recent news has called our attention, and that's all you need to know."

A small Hufflepuff girl raised her hand quietly, and Hermione nodded her head. "Well, is there any danger? Will we need to be in groups?"

Hermione glanced over at Draco, who looked thoughtful. "I'd say we'll pair you up, and for God's sake keep your wands with you," he said exasperatedly. "There was a tragic accident a couple of weeks ago. Group of prefects ran into a loose manticore on the grounds and didn't even have their wands. Now I'm not saying this has anything to do with manticores," he added hastily. "But don't be foolish."

"Exactly. If you find anything suspicious, report it to the professors, or even the Draco or me. No matter how trivial you may think it might be."

"Couldn't we please know why we're patrolling at night?" the Hufflepuff asked again.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot tell you at the moment. Now for the pairing," Hermione said. "Since there are two of you from each house, we'll stay directly within houses. Unless people want to do it differently--."

"Mix us up," said a Ravenclaw desperately. She glanced over at a Slytherin fifth year slyly and he smirked back.

"Alright then. Royden and Jannette will take the Entrance Hall, Morrison and Evans will patrol the dungeons, Grant and Livia will do the Astronomy Tower, and Jameson and Audrey will have the third floor corridor," Hermione said, calling off names at random. A few people looked happy, others looked sullen. "You'll be receiving your schedules within two or three days by owl post. Now off with you, or you'll miss dinner." The prefects filed out of the room, leaving Draco and Hermione alone for the second time that day in the meeting room.

"That went well," Draco said truthfully, flipping through a stack of papers lazily.

"Better than I thought," Hermione admitted.

"What do you think about all of this?" he asked, leaning across the table so he could be closer to her.

"I don't know," she whispered, glancing at the door warily, as if making sure nobody could be listening. "It's all very strange. Why wouldn't the dementors have stayed in Azkaban? Do you think they're being Called?"

Draco shrugged. "Could be. We won't know for sure unless the Daily Prophet writes a story, which I doubt. That or Dumbledore."

Hermione nibbled on the end of her quill, deep in thought. "Do you remember the Orb?"

"Orb?" Draco asked. "Oh the Orb that Lambert gave us."

"Exactly. Lambert said it had to be activated for it to work."

"--and your point is..."

"We need to activate it!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "See if it works."

Draco gave her a smile that could make any girl go weak in the knees. "Brilliant Hermione. Your plan is nearly flawless. There's only one itty-bitty little problem...we don't know how to activate an Orb! But other than that, I love it. Simply smashing."

Hermione's shoulders sagged. "You're right about that. But there must be something about it, something in the library...we could look in the restricted section," she suggested.

"If it has anything to do with me, you, a pair of handcuffs, and a four poster bed, count me in," he said happily. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Come on, let's go."

***

Ron stared down at the book in front of him with a sigh. "You're scaring me Harry," Ron began. "Why on earth would you suggest we study for the N.E.W.T's?" he asked.

"Because," Harry growled. "Hermione's always in the library. We could see if she's with someone!"

"Harry," Ron groaned. "Hermione won't be with anyone, she always says--WHAT THE HELL IS HERMIONE DOING WITH MALFOY?" he finished with a shriek.

"She always says what the hell is Hermione doing with Malfoy?" Harry asked, in a confused tone.

"No you idiot, look in the Restricted Section!" Ron said fiercely, turning his best friend's head in that direction. Hermione and Draco had their heads bent close together, both of them looking over a huge book.

"Ahh. I see now," Harry said, whispering. "I wonder what book they're looking at. Hopefully some Head Student stuff, that's all," he said, looking back down at his book.

"Or it could be something else..." Ron wondered aloud, and Harry gave him a pained look.

***

"For a library so big, there's nothing good here," Draco scowled, as he watched Hermione pull out book after book after book. "Believe me, I know."

"It's not that there's nothing here," Hermione said, her voice strained as she pulled out a tremendous book. "The trick is finding it."

"I suppose you're right," he said.

"Are you going to help me?" she asked him, irritated. "Or are you going to stand there and watch me do all the hard work?"

Draco sighed and reached for a book, pulling it off the shelf. When he caught sight of the title, he smirked and opened it, burying his head in it. Hermione bent down to read the title of the book, and with an indignant shriek, she grabbed the book out of his hands and placed it back on the shelf.

"Honestly Draco," she said, her cheeks turning pink. "If you want to know about the reproductive systems of a woman then ask your mother for goodness sake." She spun around and went to the next isle, stomping the whole way. Draco grumpily followed.

"What are we looking for?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know!" Hermione yelled. "Find something about Orbs." She picked up a book and handed it to him rather harder than was necessary, knocking the wind out of him. "This book on Ancient Artifacts might help."

"Why would this be restricted?" Draco asked, but as he got to the Muggle Torture Section, his eyes widened. "Never mind."

After at least thirty minutes of desperate searching, they gave up, sitting down at a table next to the window. "Great, another thing for me to worry about," she muttered, rubbing her shoulder gingerly. Draco watched her carefully.

"Is it bothering you?" he asked.

Knowing exactly what he meant, "Yes," she whispered distractedly.

"Perhaps there's a potion--."

"Don't be silly."

"A spell?"

"Of course not."

"Oh."

Hermione gave a small smile and punched him lightly on the arm. "I don't understand you Draco Malfoy," she wondered aloud.

"Don't understand me? What's there not to understand?"

"There are two things that puzzle me," Hermione informed him. "One is your mind," she said, touching his temple lightly with her index finger, "and two is your heart." She poked him on the chest and he grinned.

"I understand them quite fine."

"Of course you would," she said exasperatedly. "It's just...one minute I am so annoyed with you I want to hex you to pieces, and then the next minute you're being Mr. Nice Guy and asking me questions like, 'are you feeling okay' and 'do you need help' and...being nice! It's hard to explain."

Draco sighed. "Well it's just the way I am."

"That's what I like about you," she smiled.

Draco felt as if the temperature in the room had risen twenty degrees, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Oh, okay." He didn't know why he was so hot and bothered. It was a simple compliment. And nobody was supposed to make a Malfoy feel nervous. Well maybe your own father, but aside from that--

"Hello Hermione," said a voice.

Hermione looked up wildly. When she spotted Harry, she felt a feeling she'd never quite experienced with him before...something like annoyance.

"Yes Harry?" she asked, and her voice was snappier than she had intended it to be. Both Harry and Draco goggled at her.

"Oh. Umm, I just wanted to say hi," Harry said. With a quick glance at Draco, he swiftly bent down and captured her lips in a fiery kiss, his hands cupping her face. When he stood up, Hermione gave him a calculating look.

"And what was that for?" Hermione asked. But Harry didn't respond right away. He was too busy watching Draco's face turn a dark shade of red.

"Oh nothing really. Anyway, I've gotta go. I'll see you later," and then all of a sudden, Harry wasn't there anymore. There was a long silence (A/N: Silences happen during awkward moments...) in which Draco fumed and Hermione stared at the table.

"That was very interesting," Draco said after awhile.

"Yes it was. And I hate him right now," she alleged to herself. Draco raised his eyebrows so high they disappeared behind the strands of hair that hung in his face.

"Hate?"

"Okay, maybe I'm just annoyed with him," Hermione explained. "He felt jealous I suppose."

Draco sighed. "Hermione," he began. "I hate to say it, but I can see why."

Now it was Hermione's turn to give him a wide-eyed look. "Why?"

"Well think about it. You haven't been with him as much as you used to. You guys used to be inseparable. And now, well, you're preoccupied with me."

Hermione swallowed audibly. "But I can't help feeling like I don't like him anymore," she whispered. "I'm not attracted to him."

Draco gave her a swift pat on the head. "If it is just the prophecy, then we'll solve it eventually."

"No," she said. "I don't want to fix anything. I want it to stay just the way it is."

"But why?"

"Because I want to be with you."

"Hermione--."

"No Draco!" she yelled. "When will you accept it? I am completely, madly, desperately, head-over-heels in love with you!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and she turned away, biting her lip. Draco gently reached out and brushed away her tears.

"When will you realize that it's all in your head," he muttered, and stood up and exited the library.

***

"Harry I need to talk to you," Hermione said to him in the common room.

Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet he was reading. "Sure Herm, whatever you want."

"Follow me," Hermione said, and she trudged up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. Harry followed; ignoring the looks other Gryffindors were giving them. Once they had gotten inside the seventh year boy's dormitories, she sat down on his bed.

"Okay Herm, go for it."

Hermione cringed. She wanted to reach out and choke the boy. She was annoyed with the way he called her Herm, the way that he looked at her, the way he kissed her, and most of all, the way he got in the way of her and Draco. "Harry, I want to break up with you."

Harry just stared at her for a minute, a blank look on his face. "What?"

"I told you, I want to break up with you," she said, aggravated. "It's just not working."

"You know what?" he said, the volume of his voice rising a little bit. "I think you're right. It's not. You're spending too much time with Malfoy," he said, spitting out Draco's surname. "I should have known the bastard would get you pregnant anyway."

-SMACK-

Without even pausing to think about what she did, Hermione had stood up, and with all of her strength, slapped him as hard as she could across his face. Harry stumbled, knocking into a desk and crashing to the floor.

"I hate you," she said quietly, "I hate everything about you and I never want to see you again." And with that, she stormed out of the boy's dormitories.

"Hermione no," Harry responded, groaning as he heaved himself up off the floor. "Don't do this..."

But she was already gone.

***

Ron Weasley was returning from the Great Hall, his robes stuffed with treats and goodies from dinner, and he was wearing a broad smile. "Just take a swig and tip the jar, just one more drink and we'll go far," he half-sang, remembering a song Fred and George used to sing when they would sneak off to Hogsmeade and bring back alcoholic drinks for the older students. He stepped into the common room and was about to continue to verse two when he stopped--which was a good thing as the next verse was a bit raunchier than the first. Hermione was leaning against the fireplace, a strange smile on her face. Ron edged a bit closer, watching her carefully.

"Hey Herm, I snuck some food if you want some," he said, opening his robes to reveal the sweets he had stored in his pockets. Hermione didn't respond. "Uhh...Hermione?"

When she did look up, Ron's mouth fell open and he stared at her. This couldn't be Hermione. She looked completely different. Her eyes were no longer a warm chocolate brown but an onyx black. It contrasted horribly with her pale white skin, and she looked so underfed that the bones in her neck were so visible he wondered if she hadn't eaten a decent meal for weeks. "Hello Ron," she said, in a strangely deep voice. "What were you saying?"

"I... uh well...umm," he stuttered, trying to remember what he had been talking about in the first place.

Hermione smirked. "Well, I'd love to chat but I'd best get going."

Ron stepped aside thoughtlessly, letting her walk past him and out the portrait hole. "What was that all about?" he wondered aloud, and then decided to go look for Harry.

***

Draco was bent over a piece of parchment in the Slytherin common room, chewing on the end of his quill in thought. After a minute of thinking, he signed the parchment quickly, folded it, and put it in his robe pocket.

"What are you doing?" asked a curious voice. Draco jumped, upsetting his inkbottle. Cursing, he tried mopping it up with the sleeve of his robes. But the person behind him stuck a wand under his nose and cleaned the mess with a quick swish.

"None of your business," Draco responded, turning around in his seat to face the inquirer. He was nowhere near surprised to see Pansy Parkinson standing next to him. "God you don't ever go away do you?"

Pansy raised a heavily penciled eyebrow at him, folding her arms against her chest. "Well, well...somebody's in a good mood tonight."

"Ahh, and somebody's clearly intent on being a bitch," Draco replied, and he stood up from the marble desk and grabbed his quill and books. "So if you don't mind, I'm just going to go on up to my dormitory and get some peace and quiet." He started walking to the staircase that led to the dormitories below, surprised that she wasn't making a move to stop him. But just as he got to the landing, she said,

"That Mudblood bitch you love so much broke up with Potter today," she said with detached interest, and Draco imagined that she was carelessly examining her nails. He paused, his hand resting on the doorknob.

"Ha. Funny. Now how about you tell me something true," he said.

Pansy sighed a loud and exaggerated sigh. "If you don't believe me," she drawled on, "why don't you go ask her yourself?"

"Now why would I need to do that when I don't give a fuck who she's with?" Draco snapped, and without another word, he threw open the door to the dorms and stomped downstairs.

As soon as he had gotten out of hearing distance of Pansy, he uttered a good handful of curse words before angrily throwing his books against the stonewalls. God damn that Parkinson. She knew -just- what to say to set his emotions on high. And she had certainly outdone herself this time. Was it really that obvious? Did it appear to the whole school that he was smitten with the Gryffindor? Well, that certainly was a lie. Him...in love with her...as if that would ever happen. Sighing painfully, he rested his forehead against the wall. And yet...as much as he tried lying to himself...there was no doubt about it. He, Draco Malfoy, was in love with Hermione Granger. Of course he had realized this before. But actually admitting it to himself...he hadn't quite breached that boundary yet, and now that he had come to an agreement with himself, he wasn't going to fight it any longer. There was only one problem...she didn't return the affection. The only reason she felt the love she did was because of that damned prophecy.

"Why can't things just go back to the way they were," he muttered to himself.

"If things went back to the way they were then everything would be different," said a voice.

Draco lifted his head up off the stonewall, about to do some serious cursing to whoever this prick was. But when he saw who it was, he couldn't force himself to speak.

***

"Harry are you in here?" Ron asked, knocking on the seventh year boy's dormitory door. "Harry?" Ron took a step inside, looking around the room. A desk was overturned and papers were scattered throughout the room. "What the hell happened here..." He spotted Harry underneath the covers of his four-poster bed and he raced over to him.

"Go...away..."

Ron paused. "Harry, what's up mate..."

"I do NOT want to talk about anything," Harry responded.

"Why can't you just tell me what happened..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!" Harry shouted, and he flung himself up out of bed and ran down the stairs out of Ron's sight.

He didn't stop running either for a good long while. He ran through the corridors, down to the entrance hall and past the great hall out onto the grounds. He ran and ran and ran until he came to the gates that led to Hogsmeade. With a frustrated yell he kicked at them, rattling the bars until he gave up, exasperated, and sank to the floor. His life was officially not worth living for anymore. For the past couple of months, Hermione had been distant, and he should have seen it coming. But no, he was too blind, too stupid to realize anything that went on around him. Hell, he didn't even know who Hermione was anymore. She never spoke to him, never hugged him, never kissed him. And now, she wasn't even his girlfriend anymore. He felt bad for abandoning Ron like that, but Harry was sure that if he was anywhere within 15 feet of another person, he'd whip out his wand, shout Avada Kedavra at anything and everything, and then kill himself. At least that's how he felt at the moment. Taking his glasses off, he flung them a few feet away from himself, burying his face in his knees and breaking down completely. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps, the tears on his face felt like steam against his fevered skin. He knew he shouldn't be so hurt, but he was. He knew he shouldn't be crying like a four year old, but he was. He knew that he should discourage himself and say he wasn't in love with Hermione...but he was.

***

"Hermione," Draco said lowly, and he took a single step away from her. "What...where...how did you get down here?" he asked.

With a sly smile, she tossed Harry's invisibility cloak at him. "Here, that might come in handy some day," she said. Draco didn't even make a move to catch it and it fell at his feet. "Now, I've just taken care of some unfinished business, and I'm ready to start."

Draco blinked. "Ready to start what? Wait, wait, unfinished business?"

Hermione laughed, a laugh very unlike one that he wouldn't have ever expected to hear from her. "The Potter boy. He's out of the way now."

"Listen to me," he said, and he moved close to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You need to go to the hospital wing and get yourself from rest..."

"Silly boy," Hermione said slyly, and she laughed again. "I feel fine. I'm telling you, I want to start -now-."

"Start what..."

"Our plan!" she said in a shocked tone. "Come on don't tell me you've forgotten." She was now wrapping her arms around his neck, tilting her head and looking up at him through her lashes. "And it was so important to me too." She feigned disappointment, and Draco felt this horrible jolt of desire in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to please her, to give her exactly what she desired, even if it meant taking her and doing her right then and there against the wall. Oh...that would be just fine. He swallowed, trying to find the self-controlled, self-disciplined Draco Malfoy somewhere down inside him.

"Oh, well tell me a little more about these plans," he said quickly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Draco, we've been over this a thousand times." She leaned even closer to him, so close that their lips were touching. "Let's just skip the details and move on to...other things."

Draco's eyes slowly closed as he felt Hermione press her lips against his. He never knew she could be so erotic, so tantalizing...Get a hold of yourself now, or you'll never get out... "Hermione no," he said, pulling away from her.

"I see," she said, and her voice wavered. "You're not...in the mood for this right now."

"No I'm not," Draco coughed, as he was -very- in the mood for this.

"Right. If you're so intent on working on the plans then I suppose we should get to it," Hermione continued, and she sounded dejected.

"Actually, I was about to get some rest. How about I meet you in the library at midnight and we'll discuss things then."

Hermione stared at him. "Okay. Don't be late."

***


Author notes: My goodness!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. Life has been treating me horribly for a long time now, but things are finally getting back under control, and I’ll try and write more, I honestly will. Well now that Hermione’s a good-girl-gone-bad, and Harry and Hermione aren’t together anymore, what does this mean? Could Voldemort be coming back at this very moment? Wouldn’t you like to know.