Fidelitas

When Draco reached the Slytherin area of the castle, he found the central common room deserted, though the fire was still burning merrily. He tossed his book bag onto a table in one corner and moved to the cupboards by the fire. Rifling through the contents, he drew out a mug and a packet of chocolate powder. A few minutes later, he had mixed the powder with heated milk provided by a house elf and was curled up on the couch staring into the fire.

Draco was almost asleep when a sound caused his arm to jerk, spilling his rapidly cooling drink across his sleeve. Cursing under his breath, he sat up and scrubbed at his sleeve, looking around the room for the source of the noise. Much to his surprise, a guilty looking Pansy Parkinson was the culprit. She was trying to sneak across the room to the girls' dorm, but gave up when she realized he'd seen her.

"Hey Draco," she said, walking to the couch and sitting beside him. "That cocoa? Got any more?"

"Yeah, just get Beezler to bring you some milk and I'll mix you some."

Pansy summoned the Slytherin house elf while Draco pulled another package of chocolate from his shelf, grabbing Pansy a mug as well.

"So what are you doing, creeping in barely ten minutes before curfew?" he asked once they'd sorted out beverages.

"Nothing," Pansy replied, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Just working on my potions homework."

"Oh, yeah, the essay. You're working with that Gryffindor boy..."

"Neville."

"Ah, Neville. He's the clumsy one, right? Always blowing stuff up in class and such."

"He's not clumsy," Pansy said, defensively. "Snape makes him really nervous, so he gets confused and makes mistakes. It's not his fault."

"Sure, Panse," Draco said with a smile. "So you two were studying all night, huh?"

"Exactly, working on our essay in the library."

"Really?" Draco drawled, watching the pink in Pansy cheek deepen. "That's funny, because I walked by the library as it closed an hour ago, and I didn't see you. What happened, Neville get you lost on your way back?"

"No," Pansy snapped. "We stopped in one of the classrooms and talked, okay? And don't insult Neville, all right? He's a good guy. I know you hate the Gryffindors, but I think that some of them are okay."

Pansy slammed her mug down on the end table and stood up, turning towards the stairs. Draco looked at her in surprise, then stood as well and grabbed her by the shoulder before she could leave the room.

"Whoa, Pansy, calm down. I was just making a joke. Teasing you. I figured you had had an assignation in the Astronomy Tower or something."

Pansy let Draco pull her back to the sofa and sat down. When she looked up, her cheeks were fiery red.

"We didn't go to the Astronomy Tower," she said, with a shy smile.

"But you had an assignation?" Draco asked, taken aback. "You're dating that Neville guy? Really?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Pansy said defiantly. "I'm dating 'that Neville guy' really. I know he's not anyone important or someone I should be dating, but I like him. And he's really nice to me, and he understands stuff...

"And I don't want you to make any nasty remarks. I'll get enough of those when I tell my parents. And I don't care that he's a Gryffindor or that he's not famous or important. I've figured out that sometimes that stuff's not all that important."

Draco gaped at her, completely surprised. This was the girl he had pretended to date for almost a year because her family wanted to be aligned with the Malfoy name. He had always assumed that she was as concerned with advancement as he was.

"Look Draco," Pansy continued, seeming a little calmer. "I'm not saying that I'm not planning on going places. You're still looking at the future head of the Department of Mysteries here. I'm just saying that I'd rather date someone I like than, well, date you because it's good for my social standing."

"Your parents are going to kill you," Draco pointed out.

"Well, not kill me. They aren't Death Eaters after all," Pansy joked, not noticing as Draco's face went chalk white. "I know they're not going to be thrilled, but I figure that it's time for me to start making my own decisions and living for myself. And if they really don't like it - well, I'll go spend summers with my big sister instead."

Pansy stood and put her mug on the tray the house elf used to collect dirty dishes.

"Anyway, I really should go up to bed. I didn't really get any of my other homework done and so I'll have to wake up early to get to the library before breakfast." She blushed slightly. "Worth it, though... Thanks for the hot chocolate, Draco. See you in the morning."

Draco managed to produce a response and watched Pansy leave the room, feeling somewhat stunned. He was fairly sure he'd been dumped; not that he and Pansy had actually been a social couple this year, but they had had an understanding. But more importantly, one of his housemates was dating a Gryffindor. What had happened to the fact that Slytherins hated Gryffindors and vice versa?

Draco stared into the fire, absently drinking his nearly cold chocolate. On further thought, he realized that for the past several weeks, there had been few people in the common room at any hour. But there were always loads of people hanging out in the main courtyard, in the hallways, in empty classrooms. And at the opening Quidditch game that season, Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor, the stands had not been their usual unified clumps of color. While the two competing houses were across from each other, there had been scarves of every color on each side. The houses were mixing, Draco realized. In his preoccupied state, it had escaped his notice.

This was just one more thing to add to his confusion. He hadn't even realized over the past few weeks that the school had been changing. Of course, the fact that his few friends were not participating in this new found openness had helped to disguise it from him. The thought of Crabbe and Goyle chumming up with a bunch of Hufflepuffs made Draco snort. Those two were so convinced of the innate superiority of Slytherin house that they, like Draco, hadn't even contemplated being sorted into a different house. Probably more accurate, he realized, was the idea that Goyle and Crabbe hadn't even considered that they would do anything other than exactly what their fathers had done, and that was what had put them into Slytherin.

It didn't seem that things had been any different in his case. He had simply known that he would follow in his father's footsteps, as that was the best way to guarantee his future success. So he had become friends with his father's friends' sons and had been paired off with a girl from an acceptably powerful family. Draco had never even had to consider what he was going to do in the future, and this fact scared him now. Now that he doubted the validity of the future that had been set out for him.

There were other ways to advance to power besides following Voldemort, he knew. Draco had heard enough rants from his father about those in power who did not believe as he did to realize that there were many past Slytherins who had advanced to very important positions without being Death Eaters. Some of them were even directly opposed to Voldemort and his followers, having realized the threat the Death Eaters posed to their positions.

Of course, now Draco had to make a choice that he really didn't want to make. As much as what his father had done repulse him, Draco wasn't entirely certain he was willing to abandon a path which might lead to a position of influence. Would following his father really be the best way to gain the power and respect he wanted? The more Hermione voiced her opinions, the more Draco realized how some people saw his father. He wasn't entirely certain that he wanted his future status to be entirely based on fear, rather than respect for his abilities. And regardless of that, what good would following his father do him? Even if the Death Eaters did come out victorious, Draco himself would be so far down the chain of command that he'd never receive the recognition he craved. He would still live in his father's shadow, clinging to Lucius Malfoy's coat tails and following his orders. It wasn't how Draco wanted to live.

Exactly how he did want to live wasn't something Draco was ready to contemplate quite yet, though. He was still shaken to the foundations by the things he had seen, the doubts that he had been fostering. How much of what he had said and done had been his own actions, and how much had been parroting his father's behavior? If he had simply been behaving the way Lucius would want it was almost as bad as Crabbe and Goyle with their unquestioning acceptance and unthinking loyalties. Draco had no desire to be a sheep, of that he was certain, nor did he possess any intention of following rather than leading.

Draco stood and placed his mug next to Pansy's. As he climbed the stairs to his dormitory, he realized that while he might not be able to make his decision tonight at least he would sleep well. He hadn't slept properly in months, thanks to the nightmares that had been plaguing him since that night in August. But tonight he wasn't dreading going to sleep, he wasn't afraid to close his eyes for fear he'd re-live that horrible experience.

Hermione had been right. Finally telling her everything had lifted a shadow from his life he hadn't even realized was there. The difficult decisions he had to make seemed a little less frightening now that he had Hermione to help him through.

Hermione was sitting at dinner a few days after her bizarre confrontation with Draco. She was still confused as to why she had told him the things that she had, why she had opened up to someone she had loathed for four years. Even if the potions she and Draco had drunk were not exactly the friendship draughts that the rest of the class had consumed, they were certainly having some strange effect on her. And on Draco, for that matter. His revelations that night had shocked her, the horrors that he had seen, but almost as shocking was his comment about trusting her. Hermione was having a hard time believing what he had said, except that she knew that she was starting to feel a trust in Draco that should have been impossible considering their past history.

Snape kept delaying his administering the neutralizing potion for some bizarre reason, though most of the class didn't seem to care. Ron wasn't thrilled, but he had developed avoiding Crabbe into a fine art and so didn't have to deal with the awkward situations that had plagued the first few weeks of the experiment. In fact, Ron seemed to have gone back to disliking Crabbe as much as he had in past. Hermione's theory was that Crabbe had mixed the potion wrong and it had been too weak, while Ron declared he didn't care what it was that had gone wrong so long as he didn't have to deal with Crabbe in any way, shape, or form.

*Thunk*

Hermione's hand jerked, nearly spilling her pumpkin juice, as Harry dropped his books on the bench beside her.

"Sorry Hermione," he said, as he sat, "Didn't mean to scare you. So, ready for your night of watch duty?"

"Oh yes, I'm very much looking forward to it," she said sarcastically. "Sitting all night on the cold stone floor, not getting enough sleep, and then trying not to doze off in class tomorrow."

"Hey, we agreed that you would only have to do one weeknight. Ron and I both get two sleepless nights. Between that and that bloody fireplace in Trelawney's tower I've fallen asleep in every Divination class this month."

"At least you don't miss much in that class. And it makes it easier to ignore that old bat's death predictions," Ron said as he joined them at the table.

Hermione glared at him briefly for making rude remarks about a teacher, but he just shrugged and said "What? You think she's a fake too."

She didn't bother to answer him, instead turning to Harry.

"So I'll come get the map and the invisibility cloak from you after I'm done my homework, right?"

"Sure, or whenever is convenient. He never seems to do anything before curfew anyway, so if you want to keep an eye on him from the common room until then there shouldn't be any problem."

"Actually, he doesn't seem to have done anything interesting over the past several days, period," Ron put in. "I've got to wonder if he's given up or something."

"We should be so lucky," Harry grimaced. "Would make our lives way easier if Collier just left Wormtail in the woods to starve, but I'm not seeing that happen."

"Well, I hope he gives me a quiet night tonight. I don't feel like going wandering around too much. I'm convinced that Mrs. Norris can see through the cloak. I had way too many near misses with Filch the last couple times I did this."

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'll bet you the rest of my sugar quills that Collier doesn't leave the Slytherin common room at all tonight. Nothing exciting will happen," Ron said, reassuringly.

"I hope you're right. I have way too much homework to think about to deal with anything exciting tonight."

Harry groaned. "Ugh, I'd forgotten about the Potions projects. As much as I would rather put a hand in bubotuber pus than work with Goyle, I wish I had a partner to split the work with."

"Yeah, well at least you get to hand in shorter essays when you're on your own," Ron grumped, "I'm doing the work of two people."

"It was your choice," Hermione pointed out.

"Like there was any choice, between two extra feet of essay or working with Crabbe. I still can't figure out how you can stand to work with Malfoy. That must be torture."

Hermione stared intently at her plate. "It's not so bad. The potion seems to be working really well, so we don't have many problems."

"It still can't be good," Harry said, "working with the guy who wants us all dead."

"He doesn't," Hermione said quietly.

"What? I didn't catch that," Ron asked.

"He doesn't want us dead," Hermione said, a little more clearly.

"Oh really?" Harry drawled. "Like I believe that. This is Malfoy we're talking about. 'Death to Muggles and everyone else who isn't pureblood' Malfoy. The guy who tried to get Dumbledore fired."

"He didn't try to get Dumbledore fired," Hermione responded. "That was his dad."

"But what about that thing with Hagrid and Buckbeak?" Ron asked. "That was all Malfoy. Nasty little wanker."

"Maybe the potion's working a little too well on you, Hermione," Harry said, trying sound reasonable. "You're the last person in this school who should be defending Malfoy. Well, you and Ginny."

"But that wasn't Draco either," Hermione said again. "It was his dad. Can't you see that you're getting the two of them confused?"

"Draco?" Ron asked with a look of shock. "You call him Draco?"

"And anyway, does it matter that it was his dad," Harry asked, "since Malfoy's just like him? He's still a nasty wanna-be Death Eater, Hermione. You can't forget that."

"I don't know if he is, guys," Hermione said, watching their disbelieving faces. "If you'd heard some of the things that he's said to me, some of the things he's been thinking about. I really don't know if he's all that we think he is."

"Oh boy," Ron sighed. "Snape has to give us that antidote soon. This potion is really messing with your head, Hermione.

Harry nodded in agreement, and the two of them started talking about their homework for the next day. Hermione sat lost in thought, wondering if there was any chance that Draco's change of heart was entirely down to the potion. It couldn't be, she thought, because of the horrible events he had told her about in their most recent meeting. But she'd promised him that she would keep it a secret, so she couldn't even use it convince her friends that she wasn't under some enchantment. Hermione sighed in frustration. And as if the argument she'd just had hadn't been pointless enough, she had an entire night of staring at an unmoving dot on the Marauder's Map to look forward to.

Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, idly flipping through the pages of his Herbology textbook. He'd done all his homework for the night, but he was too wired to fall asleep so he'd decided to read ahead in his more boring subjects. Herbology could make him drowsy on its most exciting day, and if that book didn't work he was contemplating opening the divination books that he hadn't touched since the beginning of the term. What a stupid class that was, he thought, and deadly dull. At least batty old Trelawney had stopped predicting people's deaths so much. She must have realized that none of the Slytherins took her seriously, and that the Hufflepuffs they shared the time slot with didn't take well to death omens after the events of the Triwizard Tournament.

Draco looked up as the door of the boys' dormitory slammed. There had been many complaints about it, but the house elves never seemed to fix the door's habit of crashing closed. Draco figured it was a deterrent against students slipping out of the dormitory after curfew. Not that that had ever stopped him, or anyone with an ounce of brains. Of course, the pair coming down the stairs had never been accused of having enough brains to think of holding onto the door handle to let it close silently. Crabbe and Goyle were trudging down the stairs in that plodding gait of theirs. And right behind was a face Draco really didn't want to see.

Jamie Collier was only a second year, but he had an air of entitlement that reminded Draco strongly of Lucius. The kid tried to lord over all the other students of Slytherin. And it seemed Goyle and Crabbe were now acting as his honour guard. Draco didn't really care; he'd been avoiding the two lunkheads for weeks now. They had never been stunning conversationalists, and it seemed that their brains had shrunk even further over the summer. After a couple of weeks, Draco had gotten so sick of their sniggering speculations about how the school would be changed when You Know Who came back. The two had barely three brain cells between them, but their imagination was unlimited when it came to violence, mayhem, and how the school would be when they were in charge. As if anyone would let the Crabbe and Goyle make decisions past what socks to wear. They even screwed that one up, Draco thought with a smirk, remembering how Goyle had a tendency to confuse his 'clean' and 'dirty' clothing piles.

"Thinking of new insults for that Mudblood Snape stuck you with?"

Draco shook his head slightly and looked up into the pale blue eyes of Jamie Collier.

"What?" he asked, surprised at being thrown off balance by this second year, of all people.

"That Potions' project that Vincent and Gregory have been telling me about, with those friendship potions. What a ridiculous project. What was Snape thinking?" Collier turned and stared into the fire. "Why, people might think that this was all a plan to encourage these ridiculous inter-house friendships. Really, if Snape doesn't end the project soon, people are going to start doubting him again."

Draco stared at the younger student. Collier had never been subtle in his belief in the Death Eaters. He'd tried repeatedly to talk to Draco about it ever since arriving at Hogwarts. The previous year, Draco had ignored the brat because it wasn't worth his time to become friendly with a first year. Over the summer, Lucius had explained who Collier's father was, and Draco had been considering the value of forming a friendship with a kid whose father was so highly placed in the Department of Mysteries. But after seeing a man who looked remarkably like the stocky blond boy help kill that Muggle, Draco could barely meet Collier's eyes.

It had been very awkward, these past two months, avoiding Collier's repeated attempts at conversation. Whenever the second year had brought up the subject of Death Eaters, or You Know Who, or even just purebloods, Draco muttered something about how his father wanted him to keep a low profile, not to be too obvious. He wasn't sure if Collier believed him, but at least it gave Draco the ability to slip away. Tonight, though, it looked as though it might be harder to get rid of him.

"I'm really surprised you haven't complained to Snape yet, Malfoy," Collier was saying. "It's not as though you could possibly want to still be working with that... thing. Why didn't you just do like Vincent did and make the Mudblood do all the projects by itself? As far as I can tell, that's the only thing it's good for. Hideous excuse for a female, with that hair and everything. I really wish I'd been there to see that day when you made its teeth grow like that. Gregory here says it was quite a sight to see."

Goyle grunted in agreement from his position behind the chair Collier had occupied. With the two older boys looming behind him, the blond boy looked like some child king out of a history book. Draco couldn't shake the idea that the boy probably had a fair bit of power to go with the air of superiority and entitlement he wore like a cloak. Nor could he ignore the thought that looking at this little brat was probably a lot like looking back at himself a few years before. It wasn't that he minded the boy's tactics, in fact Draco figured there were a few things the two of them could teach each other, but Collier was invading turf that had been Draco's until this year. And more importantly, he was being pretty obvious in his loyalties and was questioning those of other people at a time when Draco couldn't decide which way to go. Collier was potentially a serious threat, and Draco wasn't sure how to handle him.

"Well, Jamie," Draco drawled condescendingly. "I don't feel that it's my place to question Professor Snape. He probably has good reason for making the other students so complacent. I wouldn't be surprised if he sneaks us Slytherins the antidote but leaves the rest of the school enchanted. It would make them more vulnerable.

"And as for the Granger girl," he continued, searching his mind desperately for more excuses, "well, it's fun to toy with her. I think I might have her starting to trust me a little bit now. It will all worth it when I use her to get at Potter."

"Oh, so that's the plan," Collier exclaimed.

Draco nodded, relieved that the boy had bought the lies. He hoped desperately that Collier wouldn't ask for further details of the plan, since Draco didn't think he could come up with anything more off the top of his head. The Herbology book seemed to have dulled his brain.

"Well, I have to say that that's even more cunning than I would have thought," Collier continued. "I wonder if we could trick that Weasley twit into the same situation with Vincent here."

"Oh, I don't think that Crabbe's abilities lie in the area of undercover work," Draco snorted. "Why don't we let him do the simple work while we do the thinking?"

"Too true," Collier agreed. "Not terribly intellectual, are you Vincent?"

Crabbe shook his head.

"Don't want to be," he grunted. "Too much work."

"Absolutely. Well, I have to make a run to the library," Draco said, gathering his books. "I think I must have forgot one of my Divination books there. I'll see you three later."

"But the library closes in barely fifteen minutes," Collier said, rising from his chair. "Why don't you get it tomorrow? We can have a chat about some ideas my father has shared with me about finding more students who are sympathetic to the Dark Lord."

"I think we'll have to do that another time, I really have to get this book," Draco said, heading for the door. He stopped and turned suddenly, surprising the younger boy who had been following him.

"And how many times do I have to tell you," Draco said, glaring at Collier. "We do not talk of those things in a public place. My father doesn't want to take any risks while this school is still run by Dumbledore."

"Ah yes, the Muggle-loving old fool. Fine. But we will talk later, Malfoy. Count on it."

Draco practically ran from the room. He hoped that Collier blamed the haste on the fact that the library was soon to close, not because Draco wanted to put as much space between himself and the second year boy as possible. He was hurrying down one of the dimly lit corridors outside of the Slytherin tower's entrance when he tripped over an unseen obstacle and went flying.

Sitting up and rubbing at the palms he had skinned braking his fall, Draco looked back down the hallway to see what had tripped him. Staring at him in shock was Hermione Granger.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked as he gathered the books that had scattered as he fell.

"Um... Studying..." Hermione replied, waving a book. He looked at her in confusion.

"Why were you in such a hurry?" she asked quickly.

"Trying to get away from Collier..." he answered distractedly. "But why are you studying down here? This is Slytherin Territory."

"If you paid any attention to the world around you, you'd have noticed that the school isn't divided up like that any more. Besides, it's quieter here than up by Gryffindor."

Hermione shuffled on the floor, trying to hide the invisibility cloak that she had pulled off when Draco had tripped over her foot. She stuffed it into her satchel, hoping not to attract too much attention. Fortunately, Draco seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as he piled his books neatly beside her. Sitting with his back against the wall, he lifted his hands. Hermione noticed that his palms were scraped raw from skidding on the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed. "Let me take a look."

Without thinking, Hermione grabbed Draco's left hand to take a closer look at the damage.

"I don't know many healing spells," she admitted, "but I can clean them for you. Just until you go to Madame Pomfrey."

"I don't really need to go to the nurse," Draco objected. "They aren't that bad."

Hermione didn't notice the odd look that passed over Draco's face as she brought out a handkerchief and began to dab gently at the raw patches on his palms. She took a bottle of water from her satchel and dampened the small cloth. Leaning again to cradle his injured hand, Hermione was surprised to hear a small hiss. She looked up and saw that the blond boy had become more pale than usual and his teeth were tightly clenched.

"Hurts?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted. "I'll be fine. Just let me do it."

"No, I don't mind. And besides," Hermione pointed out reasonably, " how do you plan to tie any bandages on?"

"Look, you don't have to do this. I can take care of myself," Draco snapped, trying to pull his hand away.

"Yes, but sometimes it's easier to let someone else take care of you for a little while. You are allowed to rely on other people now and then," Hermione said, tightening her grip on his hand, "and if you don't stop struggling, you're going to hurt yourself more. Stop fighting!"

Draco's struggles faded under her glare, and he muttered something Hermione didn't catch as he turned over his other palm for her to look at.

After cleaning away the dirt she could see, Hermione charmed her handkerchief to tear itself in half and tied the strips of cloth across Draco's injuries. The whole time she was puzzling over his earlier remark. She had watched as Collier had joined Draco in the Slytherin common room. She'd never seen them meeting before, but there was the possibility that previous encounters had happened on nights when Harry or Ron had been watching. Her friends wouldn't have mentioned the meetings because they were still convinced that Draco was part of the Death Eater Youth Brigade. Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach as she watched to pair remain in the same room longer and longer. But what did Draco's off-hand remark mean? She was still trying to work it out as she tied the final knot.

Draco flexed his hands, smiling at the tidy bandages Hermione had created. He was a bit take aback by her insistence over cleaning his hands. Taking care of other people wasn't something Draco had much experience with, and there weren't many people in his life that would have done what Hermione had. The thought of Goyle or Crabbe tending to his injuries was ridiculous. At home, his father was more likely to have criticized the clumsiness that caused the scrapes than to have cleaned the wounds. Narcissa had been a more caring parent, but once Draco had reached the age of ten, Lucius had taken over his son's upbringing, and Draco rarely saw his mother after that. He wasn't sure what to make of this situation, but Draco knew that it had felt nice, if weird, to have Hermione fuss over him.

He shook his head suddenly. There had been something more important on his mind before Hermione had distracted him. He was still confused at her excuse for being down in the Slytherin dungeons. Studying. Didn't seem likely: There was only one pile of books near them, and they belonged to Draco. There was a scrap of parchment on the floor between them, but it looked blank, and the satchel beside her was stuffed full of some multicoloured fabric - some pretty robe or something.

"So what are you doing down here anyway" Draco finally asked. "Just wanted to be near me? Or a secret crush on some other Slytherin?"

"Huh?" Hermione looked blank. She shook her head. "No, I told you, I was look for a quiet place to study. It's too noisy everywhere else, so I came down here."

"So what are you working on?" Draco asked, slowly reaching towards Hermione's bad. "Robe making? And I suppose this is your pattern."

He grabbed the piece of parchment. Hermione lunged for him and tried to pull the paper from his hand. Draco tugged hard and the parchment came from Hermione's grasp.

"What's this? Leaving love notes for some lucky Slytherin?" Draco smirked, but felt a tinge of anger at the thought. 'Let's see here..."

He flattened the paper out on the floor beside him as Hermione sank back against the wall on his other side. Draco's jaw dropped as he took in what was on the paper before him.

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs... The Marauder's Map?" his voice trailed off. "What is this thing?" he asked, turning back to the brown haired girl beside him. She shrugged but didn't answer.

"It's a map, I can see that. But what are all of these things? Why do them have people's names?" Draco peered more closely at the map. As he watched a small dot moved. It was labeled Madame Pince and he watched in awe as the dot moved through the space marked 'Library' and into a smaller chamber that he reckoned was right behind the reference desk.

"Oh wow. Madame Pince does live in the library! Scary."

He looked over at Hermione, who was biting her lip as she watched him warily. "What on earth are you doing with something like this? Is it something to do with why you're hiding in the shadows down here? Is this what you were studying?"

"Er... yes. Exactly." Hermione said, her face lighting up with something that looked suspiciously like relief. " I'm trying to work out the charms that make the map. It's an, um, extra credit project for Professor Flitwick. Learning about, um, mapping charms."

Draco watched her nodding excitedly and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't telling the truth. After all the things they'd talked about, the secrets they're shared, he hoped she wasn't lying. He'd thought that the weird feeling of trust he had with Hermione was mutual. But if she was lying...

"Okay, if you say so," he said finally. "But that doesn't explain why you're working down here. That's still bothering me."

"Oh, that's easy," Hermione said, a smile crossing her face. "Flitwick doesn't want any other students to see the map. Can you imagine what would happen if people figured out how to make their own maps? It would be such a mess."

Draco had to nod. The first thoughts that had crossed his mind had been of what kinds of mischief he could get up to if he had a map like that. It would be incredibly handy for sneaking around after curfew. Or for getting other people into trouble, since he could just watch and wait until they did something against the rules. It was probably a good thing Hermione was down in the Slytherin dungeons, rather than sharing the map with all of Gryffindor house, especially Potter.

"So, have you had any great inspirations?" he asked finally.

"Not really," Hermione admitted. "I've actually been watching what people are getting up to. I have a feeling the work in this map is a little advanced for me."

"You're not saying that there's some form of magic Hermione Granger can't do?" Draco gasped in mock shock.

"Oh shut up, Draco," Hermione grabbed the map from his hands. "It's only fifth year. I think that the people who made this map were a year or two ahead of us."

"This was made by students? You must be kidding. Not someone who's here now, right?"

"No, it's from years ago. No one we'd know now."

"Huh. Well, it's really interesting... Hey, look, there's Snape! What's he doing going into the Transfiguration classroom? McGonagall would have a fit if she knew he was in there."

Hermione smirked as Draco stared at the map. She was fairly sure that Professor McGonagall had no objections to Snape's presence in the classroom. The two teachers often met in McGonagall's private rooms, which seemed to be where Snape was heading at this moment. She didn't really want Draco to see a possible meeting, so she folded the map, ignoring his protests.

"But that was about to get interesting!" Draco huffed. "We should go along and see if we can hear them fighting from the corridor."

"I don't think so," Hermione said in her best 'prefect candidate' voice. "Running into either of them at this hour would be a very bad idea."

"I suppose," Draco sighed, then grinned. "Spoil sport. If you got caught doing something fun and interesting, they'll have to declare a holiday in celebration of such a bizarre, unheard of event."

"Oh shut it, Malfoy! I'm just trying to avoid getting caught wandering the halls at this time. Fred and George's tales of Filch are enough to inspire good behavior in, well, anyone but George and Fred."

Draco smirked. "Some of us aren't so faint of heart. Call yourself a Gryffindor, do you? Where's that lion's heart?"

"Waiting for a good cause." Hermione replied primly, causing Draco to snort with amusement.

"Miss Priss," he mocked, grinning at her look of annoyance. "If I didn't know of all the stuff you've gotten up to with Potter, I'd think you were the most boring goody-goody in school. But it's late. If you're not going to risk losing points for something fun, you're not going to want to lose them for breaking curfew."

"Same could be said to you, Draco," Hermione shot back. "Or is running from who ever it was worth risking it?"

Draco looked at her, perplexed until he remembered what she was talking about. Hermione had driven all thoughts of the conversation in the common room out of his head.

"Collier?" he scoffed. "No. He's just really, really irritating. Always want to talk about d... dumb stuff."

Hermione stared at Draco for a moment. He had stuttered on the 'd' in dumb, almost as if intending to say something else. She was reminded of Ron's imitations of Crabbe, the Slytherin stumbling over words in his attempts to not talk about Death Eaters. Perhaps it was her discussion with Ron and Harry at dinner, but she had a bad feeling about the meeting she had watched between Collier and Draco in the Slytherin common room.

"Well, he is just a kid, Draco," Hermione pointed out. "I find most of the lower years' conversations incredibly tedious. But I've rarely run blindly from even the stupidest twelve-year-old."

"I wasn't running blindly!"

"Well, you sure managed trip over me in a fairly convincing manner." Hermione bit her lip, knowing that there had been no way Draco could have seen her. But she wanted to get to the truth.

"Okay, fine, I was in a bit of a hurry. But you haven't had to deal with twelve-year-olds like Collier. He's pushy and obnoxious, and he's always cornering me, trying to get me to talk about things I'd rather not talk about.

"Things you'd rather not talk about? Like the stuff we've been talking about?" Hermione asked bluntly, hoping she had made the right choice.

Draco didn't respond to, but started to fiddle with the buttons on his robe. He glared intently at his hands for several moments, until finally raising his head.

"Yes, Granger, like the stuff we've been talking about." His voice had gone cold, distant. "Going to turn us all in for being Death Eaters now?"

Hermione stared at Draco, not understanding his animosity, wondering what had happened to the light hearted humour of just a few moments before.

"No," she said, "of course not. That's not why I was asking. I just thought..."

"You just thought that whenever two Slytherins get together we start hailing You-Know-Who and plotting death and destruction for all Muggles. Of course. Everyone knows that we're all training in some Death Eater Junior League. D'you want to see my badge, learn the secret wand-wave?"

Draco couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. He knew it wasn't fair to Hermione, but he was angry with her for being right. It didn't make any sense, but it bothered him to have her know about his encounters with Collier. He didn't want to be involved in the conversations in the first place, he wanted nothing to do with those people anymore, but to Hermione it would look like he was... like he was living up to her friend's expectations, becoming like his father.

"Again, no, Draco," Hermione repeated. "That's not what I meant at all. It's just that everyone knows that Collier is a big Muggle-hater. People say he might even be worse than y..."

"Worse than me?" Draco snarled at her, his cheeks burning. "He'll be pleased to hear that, now won't he? Creepy little git."

"But you aren't like that now, right? You keep saying it," Hermione's voice was pleading, "and I believe you. Really I do."

Draco glanced briefly at Hermione, ignoring her imploring look. Her words had calmed him down, but he still felt angry.

"Really? No one else does. All your friends are convinced that it's just an act. I'm amazed they let you spend time me in case I'm a Death Eater spy. Go play with Potty and the Weasel, for all I care. Nothing I've said to you has meant anything, has it? You still think I'm like my father and Collier and all the rest. What was I thinking, telling you all that stuff? Trusting you?"

"I'm trusting you too, stupid," Hermione snapped. "I trust that you're not a Death Eater spy. I know that you're not a Death Eater spy."

"You..." Draco trailed off, not even sure what he wanted to say.

"Yes, I trust you. That's what you wanted to hear, right? I believe you," Hermione's voice was rising. "I know my friends have doubts. I had doubts. I still have a few."

She held up a hand to stop his response. Draco settled back, his own anger and doubt fading under the onslaught of her passionate outburst.

"But not about what you've told me. And I trust you enough to believe that you aren't a Death Eater in training. What you told me, the other day, it was enough to convince me. You don't want to hurt Muggles anymore, right? You don't want to worship Voldemort and be one of his servants."

"Draco Malfoy will be no one's servant!"

"Never doubted that for a moment," Hermione said, with an edge in her voice that made Draco look at her suspiciously.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked haughtily.

"No, of course not," she replied, but then pressed her lips together very tightly as if suppressing a smile.

"You are laughing at me," he accused. "You're making fun of me!"

"I'm not making fun of you, I swear it," Hermione gasped, then snorted inelegantly. "But you'd laugh too if you could have seen yourself: 'Draco Malfoy Will Be No One's Servant!' It was very much high-and-mighty-Malfoy."

Draco glared at her for a few moments, but found the last of his anger draining in the face of her amusement. After a minute he was grinning back at her laughing face.

"High-and-mighty-Malfoy?" he asked. "Where did that come from?"

"Mmm... well, sometimes when you're being particularly annoying and superior, well, that's how you're referred to in Gryffindor tower."

"Good to see that even Gryffindors can appreciate quality," Draco said, trying to look serious.

"You don't understand." Hermione looked perplexed. "It's because they don't think you're high..."

"I know, Hermione," Draco interrupted. "I know. It's like how we Slytherins call Potter 'The Famous Harry Potter.' It sure isn't because we like him."

Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but Draco cut her off.

"Oh, don't get in a huff. He's just irritating, with his fame and his heroics and how everyone falls all over him. Don't you find it annoying sometimes, being friends with a super hero?"

"No. Why should I? It's just Harry. It's not like he has any choice in the matter. If he weren't for his heroics, as you put it, he'd be dead, given all the stuff that's happened in the past few years."

"Well, fine. But you have to understand that it's hard being at school with the most famous wizard in the world and the smartest witch ever. It's not like that leaves us Slytherins much to be the best at, and well, we're supposed to be the best."

"Smartest witch ever?" Hermione said in a small voice.

Draco stared down at her, watching a pale blush rise in her cheeks. She was looking at her knees as if they held the secret to world domination. He smiled and replied gently,

"Yes, Hermione, the smartest witch ever. Don't pretend to be modest. We all know that you dance around your dormitory singing," he pitched his voice mockingly high, "I'm the best, I'm the best, Three Hundred and Twenty Percent, I'm the best."

Hermione's head shot up and from the glare on her face Draco knew she was about to say something fairly nasty, so he put two fingers over her lips and continued in his normal voice.

"Kidding, Hermione, I'm kidding. Everyone knows that you're irritatingly modest to go with the amazing marks. Almost as if even top of class isn't high enough for you."

Hermione's lips parted against Draco's fingers, causing him to stare down at her mouth. He jerked his fingers away, surprised that he had touched her that way without even thinking. While Draco was attempted to order his suddenly muddled thoughts, Hermione spoke.

"Some days, I think that top of the class isn't good enough," she started quietly. "I mean, to prove myself to everyone. I feel that with my background and everything, I have to be perfect."

"Hermione, that's ridiculous," Draco interrupted. "No one expects you to be perfect."

"I do," she admitted. "I have to be the best at classes. I mean, what else am I good at? I'm not like Ron, I don't make friends easily at all; I can barely hold onto the ones I've got. I can't draw well, and I'm not musical. I can't fly at all, let alone well enough to play Quidditch. I'm not brave like Harry. I'm not like you, with your self-confidence and knowing where you fit in the world."

"Hermione," Draco with a humourless laugh, "I don't think there's anyone at this school with less of a sense of where they fit in the world. I used to live based on what my father expected from me. I would live up to his expectations and be rewarded. That's Father's idea of parenting."

"But you have expectations for yourself, right?"

"Of course I do. I plan on being a very powerful wizard one day. I'm not sure exactly which area I want to go into, but I love Potions and Charms. I also want to train to be an Animagus. When McGonagall taught us about those in third year, I read everything I could about them. It's so fascinating. And if you were able to learn it on your own, and not have to be registered, the stuff you could do..."

Draco trailed off, his imagination running wild, until he noticed the look of amusement on Hermione's face.

"What? Don't you think I could become an Animagus? I'll have you know that I'm pretty damn good at Transfiguration," he said heatedly.

"I know that, Draco, it was just something you said reminded me of someone I knew." She stopped suddenly, the smile fading from her face. "Um... but it's getting late, I should probably go."

Draco reached out and grabbed Hermione's arm as she stuffed the funny map into her bag and started struggling with the ties.

"Don't go yet. It's fine. This corridor isn't patrolled much at all, and not until much later. Please," he asked. "Stay and talk. I like talking with you. That's not something I can say about many people."

"I'm really sorry Draco," Hermione said meeting his eyes. "I enjoyed talking with you too, but I really have to go."

"What's the rush? Do you have a date with Potter and Weasley to save the world tonight?" Draco couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. His annoyance deepened when Hermione blushed and wouldn't meet his eye. He dropped her arm as if it had just transformed into a Flobberworm

"Oh, well, secret plans must be afoot then. You can't even just say yes," he mocked, anger in his voice. "I thought you trusted me. Or was that all just to make me calm down?"

"No, Draco, it was real. Really it was. I do. But I do have to go. And I'm not going to meet Ron and Harry, I swear. It's just that I'm supposed to be doing something and you made me forget all about it and I really hope that I haven't totally messed it up, so to fix it I have to go. Now."

"Okay, okay, Hermione, fine," Draco said soothingly, amused by Hermione's mad babbling as she fastened her bag and stumbled to her feet. He reached for his books then pushed himself up from the floor. "I guess I'm still a little touchy about, well, you know. You should go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you in Potions class. G'night, Draco," she called, already hurrying down the hall.

Draco smiled, watching the small figure's robes and hair stream behind her. He silently wished her luck in sneaking halfway across the castle after curfew. Suddenly the thought of the enchanted map she was carrying in her bag came to him.

"S'pose she doesn't need that luck after all," he muttered to himself as he turned towards the Slytherin dungeons. "There's more layers to that girl than I thought."

Hermione ran towards the Gryffindor tower, cursing herself for her stupidity. Chatting with Malfoy, fighting with him, laughing with him, while she was supposed to be watching the map. She pulled the parchment out of her bag as she ran and glanced at it. It looked like the way to the portrait entrance was clear. Filch was far away, and most of the teachers had gone to their bedchambers for the night. Still, she slowed her pace and moved more quietly as she approached the stairs. Ducking into a darkened corner, she stopped to look at the map more carefully.

"Damn!"

Hermione cursed before she could stop herself. The Collier dot was no longer in the Slytherin common room. She stared at the map, examining each section carefully. Finally, after a few heart stopping moments, she located the student's name. He was in the kitchen area of the castle, not moving. Hermione took a deep breath. At this point she was supposed to call Ron and Harry for reinforcements, so that if the younger boy left the castle they could go together to find Wormtail's hiding place. She fumbled in her pocket for her wand, trying to remember the incantation that would lead Ron and Harry to her location. From her other pocket, she pulled a second map of Hogwarts. Kneeling, she placed the two maps side by side. Locating the exit Collier generally used, she touched her wand to the second map.

"Indicare locum," she whispered.

A small green light glowed at the tip of her wand. Hermione tucked her wand away, hoping that that green light would be matched by a small green dot on the rough maps that Ron and Harry carried with them at all times.

While Hermione hadn't been able to crack the enchantments on the Marauder's Map, much to her frustration, she had managed to find the charms to link three rougher, simpler maps together. With the location-indicating spell she had just cast, Harry and Ron should be able to see where she wanted them to meet her. As Hermione hurried down the hall, she grinned to herself. The boys were probably going to be very surprised by their locator maps tonight. Knowing their tendency to become engrossed in games of Wizard's Chess, or discussions on Quidditch, she had added an extra spell to the two boys' maps. When the indicator spell was cast, the maps were to emit loud squawking sounds until unfolded. If only she could have tested that feature while in the room with them. Ah, well, she'd have to ask Ginny for a detailed description.

Ten minutes later, Hermione stood in the shadows by a small door near the kitchens. She was listing off curse words under her breath, alphabetically. She had reached 'r' by the time Harry and Ron came rushing into the corridor.

"Where is he?" Ron gasped.

"Do we have long before he gets here?" Harry asked, also panting.

Hermione stared at her feet.

"Hermione?" Harry said suspiciously.

"We missed him," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ron said.

"We missed him," Hermione said, slightly louder.

"How? What did he do differently tonight? Did he skip the kitchens or something?"

"No," Hermione muttered, feeling her cheeks turn red. "He went to the kitchens."

"Then what?" Harry asked, looking perplexed.

"It's my fault," she said quickly, raising her head but still not looking either boy in the eye. "I didn't notice he'd left Slytherin until he was in the kitchens and then he started leaving the kitchens right after I cast the indicare spell. He was long gone even by the time I got here."

"Damn!" Ron cursed. "Double damn and slimy slugs! We think we've finally got a plan and he still slips away from us. Darn it! Slimy, slippery, sneaky little Slytherin! Damn!"

Hermione leaned back against the wall and dropped her eyes, crossing her arms protectively in front of her.

"Ron!" Harry snapped. "Shut it! And Hermione, don't worry. Both of us have slipped up watching the map. It doesn't matter if you dozed off. We'll get him another night."

Hermione watched as Harry glared at Ron until the redhead blushed.

"Yeah, Mione," Ron muttered. "It's okay. I've closed my eyes a few times while on duty."

If her cheeks became any redder, Hermione was fairly certain that they'd catch fire. The boys were going out of their way to excuse her actions, and they didn't even know what had made her look away from the map. She tightened her hands on her arms and took a deep breath.

"I didn't doze off, Harry, but thanks for the excuse," she said, finally.

"Did you get caught by a teacher?" Ron asked, looking at her anxiously.

"No..." she hesitated.

"A Prefect?" Harry offered.

"No..." Hermione grimaced and then continued. "Draco found me in the hall by the Slytherin entrances and we got talking and I had to hide the map, so I missed Collier. I'm so sorry guys. So sorry. I'll never mess this up again, I promise."

"Malfoy!" Ron snarled. "Should have known. I bet that Collier sent him ahead to make certain no one would catch him sneaking out. Damn. Of course."

"See, not your fault, Hermione," Harry said reassuringly.

"But that's not it at all!" Hermione protested. "Malfoy wasn't there to help Collier. He was there to get away from Collier. I saw them together in the common room and then he came running out and tripped over me. Draco was trying to get away from Collier and his talk of Death Eaters and You-Know-Who."

"Is that what he told you?" Ron snorted in disbelief. "Hermione, get a grip. This is Malfoy we're talking about. You know what he's like."

"Yeah, I do know what he's like," Hermione shot back angrily. "But you don't. He's different this year. He's been through some really awful things and they made him doubt all of the stuff that he used to say. He doesn't want to be like his father."

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Harry interrupted. "Are you sure that this isn't just the potion speaking?"

"It's not! I swear it's not!" Hermione turned. "Ron, when you were enchanted, did you trust Crabbe, did you believe his pretending? No! No matter how civil the Amicibilitas makes you act, it doesn't change what you believe. It helps in conflict by letting people talk, and through that they reach agreements. You knew that Crabbe was a creep and he kept acting like a creep, with the exception of not trying to knock your head in whenever he saw you. He might have said 'hi,' but did he ever, in any way, indicate that he might not be a Death Eater in training?"

Ron shook his head, but continued to look wary.

"So you're telling us that Malfoy is actually saying that he doesn't believe all that stuff he used to say? That he's a changed man..."

Harry snorted at Ron's mocking tone.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Why don't you believe me?" Hermione asked. "Do I have to make him tell you himself? Would that make you understand?"

"Maybe if he took a Veritaserum," Harry said, smiling. "C'mon Hermione. Let's head back to the tower. It's late, we're not going to catch Collier now, and I think you could use a little sleep."

Hermione nodded her agreement and let the boys drape the invisibility cloak around the three of them. As they made their cautious way back to the Gryffindor tower, her mind kept running in circles. Draco was more willing to believe her than Harry and Ron were. Maybe they had their reasons: she hadn't been the only victim of Draco's nastiness. But they were her best friends. Why couldn't they trust her judgment?