Secrets in the Night, Lies in the Dark

* * *

The dark shadow of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry reflected upon the lake. The giant squid's lazy tentacles were grazing the surface causing ripples to spread out along the glassy surface. All around, the great windows of Hogwarts were reflected on the black surface, making the shadow of Hogwarts look like an entryway into the great abyss of the lake, the unknown.

The outskirts of the Quidditch pitch rose sharply, halfway hidden in the mists that had tumbled from the lake. Unforgiving winds cut across the corners of the buildings whipping through the edge of the Forbidden Forest, screaming around the leafless trees, and biting down with the intense coldness of the night.

* * *

Inside the library, Hermione Granger closed the nearby window. The wind had been howling and she could barely concentrate. As she sat back down, she listened silently as the two boys discussed that afternoons Quidditch match. She rolled her eyes at them and picked up her book again, "Lies, Truths & Other Historical Memoirs of the 15^th Century" had turned out to be a great read. Harry smiled at her and softly took her hand in his.

"Harry, that game was brilliant today! I thought for sure Ravenclaw was going to lose... Honestly, the Slytherin team is getting better an' better. You make sure you watch your back when it's your time to go against Malfoy. I wonder if Malfoy's Father hired a player from one of the Quidditch Leagues to coach his son - after he realized that talent doesn't come with a fancy broom! "

"Ron, maybe Malfoy's finally becoming a worthy adversary--without the help of his father," Harry said dropping his voice. "But, regardless, I think Gryffindor needs to practice more".

"Are you going to start spying on Slytherin, Harry? Y'kno, they'd never catch you, especially with that clo--" Ron stumbled, realizing he was talking too loudly. Dropping his voice, he continued, "but, they do never seem to practice, do they? Their name is never on the sign up," he concluded suspiciously, glancing over to a table where Malfoy and Pansy, among others Slytherin's sat, talking lowly among themselves and studying. Ron noticed that Malfoy was reading a book that had some rather grotesque picture on the front with a Latin on its cover. Ron started again, "I think Malfoy-".

Hermione cut in sharply, throwing her book on the table with a clunk. "Oh really, Ronald Weasley! You would think we are back to being second years! Don't you think its time to grow up a bit? We are graduating this year, and couldn't you at least try to reconcile with Malfoy? Sure, Malfoy's a prat, but you two talk of him as if he's the Scourge of Europe himself". She glared at Ron with distaste, and picked up her book gingerly.

"I am being grown up, Hermione!" he said, standing up. "But that good-for-nothing bastard has never changed, not once, since he was a first year; he's still the same snobby git that we've always known. He hasn't done an ounce of good since he's got here! And, really, HERMIONE, why are you suddenly sticking up for him?" Ron stood up towering over Hermione; she slunk back into her chair and spoke softly to her book.

"Your one to talk about change, Ronald..." she said softly, hating these row's they always got in. It was always like this, she thought disturbed, always...Ron just couldn't let the past die with the past.

She cleared her throat, glancing at Harry before speaking, "I'm not sticking up for Malfoy, I-I'm just telling you to grow up a tad. You and Harry talk about Malfoy like you did when he was still sour at Harry for-for everything Harry's ever done!"

Harry perked his head up at the repeated mention of his name, "Hey-wait, I'm not so bad about Malfoy anymore." He coughed, "He's a good Quidditch Captain and if I have to say it, a worthy opponent on the Quidditch pitch," he said gently wrapping his arm around Hermione bringing her closer to him.

She sat there and mentally thanked Harry for sticking up for her. She honestly didn't think Malfoy was a bad person, Malfoy wasn't bad at all. A small grin crept up her face and the two boys looked at her curiously.

"You're not thinking about Harry in his snitch boxers are you, Hermione?" said Ron with a grimace.

Hermione spluttered, "What? Harry, you have snitch boxers? Why..." she trailed off. Hermione nearly giggled out loud as she wondered if they moved or not. Grinning wildly, she decided that would be one bit of magic she would have to try out.

Harry leaned over to her and whispered, "Hermione, you're blushing"

Ron, fortunately, had not heard Harry speak of this. And he remained oblivious, smiling innocently. Ron, after dating Hermione very, very briefly in their sixth year, had been shattered completely when it ended after they could do nothing but scream at each other. Since then he had never had a girlfriend.

Hermione yawned quietly. "I think its time to go to the Common Room, it's quite late and we all have work. It was a lovely day though, wonderful match. However, I am sure we all knew that but I know Professor Binns would like it if you knew more about his subject!"

Harry and Ron shifted uncomfortably in their seats and stood up. Harry stammered and looked at Hermione, "I guess I'll do my History of Magic essay tonight then, since we are going tomorrow to..." he trailed off, and with his silence he filled his friends in on more than he could have ever with words. Harry looked up at his friends, his eyes glazing, "Ron, how's your essay coming?"

"Mine's eight inches long...just two to go, the conclusion at that," Ron knew Harry would be shattered, Harry hated asking Hermione for help since they had started dating.

"Oh, damn," Harry muttered. It was already very late and he knew he couldn't do it tomorrow.

"Well then, let's go!" Hermione nudged Harry along in-between the tables towards the door. As they passed the table, where Draco now was the solitary occupant, Hermione heard his distinctive cough.

I wonder where Pansy's gone off to now, Hermione thought with distaste.

When she heard his cough, she raised her head in alarm, nearly dropping a stack of books she was carrying.

Behind Hermione, Ron spoke softly to Harry, "Hey, mate, I hope Hermione doesn't give you trouble about not starting your essay, especially since you chose to go to the Slytherin game today."

Harry looked more uncomfortable. "I am just so caught up in Quidditch this weekend. First with practice running as late as it did Friday evening...and then staying up even later to finish those new game plans." He grinned, "And since we play Slytherin next month, I really wanted to see what tricks Malfoy had up his sleeve. I wasn't thinking about History of Magic, Ron, it was a Saturday afternoon...the only person I know whose mind was on homework was Hermione, and she brought it to the game--but I very well couldn't do that."

As the Trio exited the Library, Hermione waited a bit and stepped in line with them. Having heard the last part of Harry's conversation with Ron, she laughed, "That would get quite messy."

"Oh Harry, do be careful next time," she muttered at him as they climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, "I'm afraid you'll be up rather late tonight. What's the essay about, more Goblin Rebellions?"

The portraits on the wall peered down at them and made chatter with one another, their faces alight with motion and life. As they moved to the next staircase, Ron had to clasp the side railing tightly, as the staircase abruptly moved.

"All right...fine, we'll go the long way," Ron muttered, severely annoyed at the staircase.

Hermione took a break from the chatter, and found herself in silent reverie. She looked at Hogwarts immensity, its size... so much unknown, and so much darkness in this place. She stood, looking at the scene before her, realizing that this is safest place in the Wizarding World, the very safest from the Dark Lord and his Followers. She silently wondered if anyone had any idea that this place was also the biggest threat, Hermione could nearly feel the noose that had begun to tighten itself over Hogwarts. Does anyone else feel it? My parents do, Hermione thought sadly. Her parents had done nothing wrong but have a witch for a daughter.

The staircase stopped moving, and Harry nudged Hermione softly in the side, "Earth to Hermione? Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" she said drowsily. A little voice in her head spoke, Harry feels the noose...He's always felt it

Shooing her voice away she said cheerily, "Oh! Yeah. I'm fine, I just dazed," and she walked off the staircase and started off quickly down one of the lighted hallways towards the Fat Lady.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other; looks of concern clashing on their faces, as much as the color of their hair. Harry ran up to Hermione and grabbed her gently by her elbow. The quick pace of her steps slowed and she turned around to look at Harry, "Yes?"

"Hermione," Harry said gently, gazing at Hermione concerned, "Are you okay?"

Hermione looked back at Harry, "Yes Harry, I'm just fine. I'm sorry, I dozed off, there's a lot on my mind," she said, leaning close and kissing Harry softly.

Ron looked on the scene awkwardly. He still wasn't comfortable with Hermione and Harry dating, but they were his best friends, and nothing could come between that. Ron's amber eyes tinted green with jealousy momentarily as he watched Hermione and Harry, but he blinked at it was gone. A memory and nothing else.

Harry smiled at Hermione, "All right".

"Yeah, let's go. You have an essay to work on," said Hermione, and then dropping her voice, "No matter how much I would like to stay here with you."

"Come on Ron, my History of Magic awaits," Harry beckoned to his red-haired friend.

Ron stepped in line with Harry and Hermione, and the three of them walked together, towards life or death, always together.

Hermione slipped her hand in Harry's hand, and gazed around at the Portraits on the wall. She stopped to admire one where a ruthless knight was campaigning to a castle to save his Fair Lady, when she saw smoke rising from the castle. In the twilight clouds above the castle, the Dark Mark formed above the castle sullenly. She watched in horror as the snake crawled in and around the skull, releasing a forked tongue and hissing loudly. Hermione shivered where Harry had been pressed closely against her body, but he and Ron had kept walking.

She shook her head roughly, telling herself it wasn't real. It's just the Ceremony messing with your head, Hermione, get a grip. She thought luridly. She was about to look away when a scroll appeared above the Dark Mark, clearly three-dimensional. She lunged forward and grabbed it from the painting, and slipped it easily into her pocket. She stepped in line with Harry and Ron again and smoothly moved her small held into Harry's firm grasp and smiled.

"Yeah, Harry," she yawned, apparently her absence had gone unnoticed, "So what is your essay about?"

"Err, Professor Binns said to choose one of the great wizards during the 1400's and compare their discoveries and their philosophies to common practices and theories of today" Harry said, mocking Professor Binns ghostly droning voice.

"Fun. Of course, you could always do Nicolas Flamel...Not many people get so involved with wizards from the actual era; they're usually already dead... I suppose you could find all the basic information in the textbook, but you'd need to go to the library to get anything else beyond that," Hermione said harshly. Not starting his essay beforehand was his own fault; he was seventeen years old, she couldn't baby him anymore, not even if he did look baby-faced.

As they approached The Fat Lady Portrait, she looked down at them in displeasure, and said loudly, "What were the three of you doing out of--,"

"Casus belli," shouted Harry. The Fat Lady clicked her tongue in distaste and obliged to open the portrait. The trio rushed inside and closed the portrait door quickly, as they were passing through the small hallway that led to the main, circular Common Room, Harry glanced at the hourglass on the wall, a representative one that stood in the Entrance Hall, which was keeping track of House Points. According to the figure that Harry last had in his mind, Gryffindor was up by 30 points. Harry made a mental reminder to himself to ask around the next day and find out who had helped Gryffindor out. He walked over to his bag that he had placed in a chair earlier and grabbed some parchment and ink out of his bag.

Hermione and Ron had meanwhile gone over to talk, to leave Harry to his essay in peace.

Harry looked longingly at his girlfriend and best friend sitting down talking; the common room was practically empty. His friends were sitting over by the dying embers of the fire, talking animatedly to one another.

An open window nearby kept a chill breeze blowing into the common room from the dark lake looming out below Gryffindor Tower. A few Second Years sat at one of the short tables playing a silent game of Wizards Chess, their voices slowly drifting over as they commandeered their pieces around the game board. A few other bookworms and couples sat spread around in the cozy room, too wrapped up in what they were doing to notice the arrival of the Trio.

With a great heave, he threw his History of Magic Book onto the table. He opened the musty book, and started his essay. Occasionally he looked up at Hermione and Ron talking, desperately wishing he could be sitting next to her, talking about whatever they were talking about. He didn't want to be in the coldness of the dark, feeling as if he was alone in the world. At that moment, all his love for Hermione could not warm his heart.

*Fins Chapter 1