Demons, Death Eaters and Malfoys

Chapter One

The Note.

Hermione Granger sighed as she sat, running her hand through her short, shoulder length curls while looking out of the window of the Hogwarts Express. Her seventh year at Hogwarts had finally rolled around, and she wasn't sure whether or not she should be feeling glad or not.

I'm glad that this is my last year but I'm kind of going to miss it here... she thought. On second thought, I'm not really sure that there's much to miss! One more year and then I'll finally be free! Free from the stress, free from the 'Good Girl' Image that I have to keep up...She heard a low, arrogant laugh from down the carriage and her mood suddenly darkened. She slammed the carriage door shut and Harry and Ron (who were very much involved with their game of wizards chess) jumped, scattering the chess pieces. She slumped back down in her seat and sighed again. Ron gave Harry a what-the-hell-is-with-her? Look and Harry just shrugged. He knew even less than Ron did about the opposite sex (which wasn't very much), despite all of his female fans. Then another sigh came from Hermione.

"You all right there, 'Mione?" Ron slurped though his half-chewed chocolate frog without looking up. Hermione ignored him. He looked up. "'Mione?" she continued ignoring him, now lost in her own thoughts.

And finally free from HIM!

"Bastard," she muttered out loud, seeing Draco Malfoy's tall silhouette leaning against the cabin door. Ron and Harry looked at her curiously.

"Excuse me?" Ron sputtered, spraying chocolate frog all over himself and Harry. Harry sent him an unnoticed look of disgust.

I hate him, she thought loathingly. He's so horrible...him and his high-and-mighty attitude...he thinks so highly of himself- God, he's disgusting!

"Hermione."

Him and that silver-blonde hair of his- that disgustingly attractive thick, silver-blonde hair...

"Hermione."

Those- those beautiful icy-blue eyes...

"Hermione!"

Those muscles...those amazing mu- wait a minute! What am I doing? What am I saying?! I hate him! Yeah, that's it! I hate him!

"HERMIONE!"

Or do I?

"Isn't it funny how in all of someone's nastiness they can seem so attractive?" she muttered to herself.

"HERMIONE GRANGER!"

"Huh?" Hermione looked stupidly up at Harry and Ron, her big brown eyes widened. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, Herm?" he said. "Are you okay?" she snapped out of her daze.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" she snapped.

"Who can seem so attractive?" asked Harry. Hermione looked to Harry as though he was insane.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" she asked. Ron clasped his hands over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes.

"Oh, isn't it funny how in all of someone's nastiness they can seem so attractive?" Ron replied in a mock high-pitched voice. Hermione shot him a lethal look.

"Whatever," she muttered, before turning to face the window and close her eyes. Her mind wandered again.

Making Head Girl had better be worth it...Hermione had just come back from the Prefects' meeting, and McGonagall had just given her extra instructions for her duties as Head Girl. She knew that she hadn't given a good impression just now, but at this point in time she didn't really care. Her mind was on other matters.

"Hermione, you sure you're okay?" asked Harry. Hermione turned, irritated, and nodded.

"Yes, Harry," she replied. "I'm juuuuuuuust fine!" Harry just shook his head. He knew better.

"Seriously Herm, what's up?" Ron slurped through yet another chocolate frog. "You've been acting strangely all week! In fact, you've been acting strangely ever since you got that owl!"

"Is something from the letter bothering you?" asked Harry.

"Who was it from, anyway?" asked Ron casually.

"It's none of your business!" she shot at Ron. "It's nothing, okay? Just leave it alone!" Ron looked taken aback. She ignored Harry's question and turned to face the window again. Her mind wandered to the letter, which she had received almost exactly a week ago.

Dear Hermione, it had started. Not Granger or the usual insulting Mudblood, just Hermione.

Her heart had soared when she had read those first two words. She had immediately known who it was from, save the fact that she had never before in her life seen that handwriting. But then she had grown light-headed and faint when it had sunk in whom the letter was from. She remembered to have suddenly felt extremely nauseated when remembering why she dreaded him, and felt the same now while recounting the letter. She hadn't wanted her to finish, but something inside told her too.

Dear Hermione,

I have tried to write this letter so many times, needless to say without much success. I can't stop thinking about what happened last year.

I really need to talk to you, Hermione. I've been driving myself insane over this, and I need some answers.

I know that I'm probably the last person that you want to see right now, and I don't blame you. Not the slightest bit. But Hermione, I really, really need to see you.

Please meet me at the bottom of the Grand Staircase at 11:00 on the first night.

D. Malfoy.

Hermione's mind had reeled after reading the letter. She wondered if it was all just a joke. This didn't seem like Draco Malfoy- it didn't seem like him at all. But then again, Hermione needed to consider the fact that she didn't know Draco Malfoy as well as she thought. She didn't even know him at all.

She even wondered if she was dreaming, and she even wondered whether The Incident was all just a dream. That's what she called it. The Incident. She cringed at the thought of it, though at the same time she wished that it could happen all over again, just for the sake of that kiss...

She had been quietly walking along in the library and annex, doing her Prefect duties and thinking about the fact that she and Victor Krum had officially broken up a few days earlier, when Draco Malfoy had unexpectedly shown up...

§§§

"Out of my way, Malfoy. This isn't your area tonight," Hermione had commanded. Malfoy just smirked. She hated that smirk. It made him look as though he felt he was superior, as though everyone else was below him. But at the same time it made him look so sexy...so unbelievably sexy.

"What are you going to do about it, Granger?" he hissed. She gripped her wand tightly and glared back at him.

"Twenty points from Slytherin should do it for now," she had replied through clenched teeth. He stepped up to her so that they were almost nose-to-nose. She drew in a sudden breath. Her heart began pounding.

"Oh really?" he sneered, his hot breath making her stomach tingle and his icy eyes looking deep into her own. She gulped silently; very afraid of what might happen. His eyes continued boring into her own and she shivered and looked away. She hated him this close. She never backed down from anyone before; especially a Slytherin, but she couldn't stand being this close to him. She had had a crush on him for a while now, since the beginning of their fifth year, and him doing this to her; him trying to read her, search for her soul, was pure torture. Hermione looked away.

"Forget it," she mumbled, turning to leave. Draco grabbed her arm. She turned surprised.

"Wha-" she started. Draco looked at her intently for a moment before pulling her into a kiss. Hermione was too shocked to respond at first, so she just stood there, dumbstruck, while he kissed her. Then her senses finally kicked in and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through his thick silvery-blonde hair. Draco responded by running his hands up and down her back, then gripping her waist before finally breaking away.

"See you soon, Granger," he uttered softly before disappearing down the hall.

§§§

The next morning, Potions ("Double! With the Slytherins'! Bloody typical!" Ron had shouted at the beginning of the year) had been Hell for Hermione. She had kept glancing over to him, hoping to catch his eye, without much success. But once the class had ended, Hermione had hurriedly packed up her things and bottled her potion, hoping to steal a moment with Draco. Harry and Ron had moved to stay with her after class, but she had waved them on. And then he had come out. Draco didn't even look at her; he just turned and walked down the hall with his brainless cohorts, Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione caught up to him and walked alongside him for a moment. Then Draco finally noticed her, a look of surprised annoyance prominent on his face.

"I need to talk to you," she had hissed in his ear. He stopped, and she along with him, praying that he wouldn't break her heart. It took Crabbe and Goyle a moment, but when they noticed that Draco was no longer walking beside them, they looked to Hermione and began cracking their knuckles, ready for a fight. Draco put a hand up to stop them.

"I'll catch up," he said. They had looked at each other for a moment, extremely confused.

"But..." started Crabbe, obviously puzzled at the fact that Malfoy was willingly conversing with a Gryffindor without insulting them.

"Go!" he insisted. They looked to each other again before reluctantly leaving. He turned to Hermione.

"What do you want," he hissed callously. Hermione looked on at him, taken aback by his tone. "Well?"

"I- I just- I didn't- I mean, I- did you- what did-" Hermione stammered.

"Just spit it out!"

"What happened last night?" she blurted out, frustrated. Draco turned away.

"Nothing," he snapped, turning away. "Nothing happened last night."

"But-" he spun around, inches from her face.

Oh, God, she thought. Her heart was beating right through her chest, she was sure of it. She had no doubt that he could hear it. He smirked.

He's so close...so very close...too close...her thoughts trailed off while he lowered his head and kissed her.

Oh, God! What the fuck am I doing?! he thought. I don't want this! Or do I? The thought of him wanting a Mudblood- a specific Mudblood by the name of Granger- totally repulsed him. No, he thought. Not repulsive- scary! Bloody frightening was more like it! What would his father say if he found out? Then he made the decision that no one must ever find out. Especially not his father...and especially not Potter and Weasley. It must end. Now. Today.

In a few minutes...he thought, trying not to think anymore. But the image of his infuriated father kept pushing its way into his mind. He broke away suddenly.

"I can't do this" he said, turning to walk away. Hermione grabbed his hand. He flinched. She looked up into his eyes pleadingly.

"Please," she whispered. She stared even more intently into his eyes. They slowly changed from their clear, icy silver to a cloudy, unreadable grey. "Malfoy?" he ripped his hand away from hers in a fit of sudden anger.

"Don't ever speak about this to Potter and Weasley," he said in a low, icy voice. His tone frightened her. She backed away slowly, her eyes wide. He spun around and stormed down the hall, only stopping for a split second before turning the corner.

"Not a word to Potter and Weasley," he called through clenched teeth. "To ANYONE!"

§§§

When Hermione woke, her throat was choked up and there were tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. She dabbed carefully at her eye, hoping that she wouldn't smudge the oh-so-carefully applied eyeliner and mascara. She never used to care about appearances, preferring her frizzy hair long, and her pretty face clean of any 'filth', as she put it, but past incidents had dramatically changed her view of many things. She had cut and conditioned her frizzy waves, causing them to become short, springy, shiny curls. She had also read a lot of Muggle magazines for makeup tips before buying a whole heap of makeup and experimenting, finally deciding on a look that she liked. Harry and Ron had been shocked at her sudden wanted change, and had tried to pry an explanation for her new look from her but were unsuccessful. But now they finally had let it go, much to her relief.

She dabbed at another tear that had sneaked down her cheek. She gulped silently, looking out the window, praying to God that Harry and Ron didn't spot her tears. Unfortunately for her, Ron just happened to glance he way as her eyes welled up and started spilling over.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "You- you're crying!"

"Yes, Ron, I'm crying," she snapped. "Like I've told you before, just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon it doesn't mean that we all do!" Ron stared, taken aback.

"I- I'm sorry, I-" he stammered. He was surprised at Hermione's sudden tone. She often got annoyed at him, but she hadn't spoken to him like that in ages and he knew that she must be really angry but he had no idea why.

He opened his mouth to apologise but she cut him off.

"Just forget it," she snapped. She turned suddenly angry, though she wasn't sure why. "You probably couldn't give a flying fuck anyway!"

"Hermione!" Harry admonished. She turned to him, her eyes blazing.

"Oh, sod off!" she spat out, as the train started to slow. She glanced out the window and saw the station looming closer.

Freedom, looming closer. She looked back to Harry, again suddenly enraged.

Fresh tears sprang into her eyes, and she felt suddenly afraid and confused at all these emotions that were jumping out at her. "Just sod off and leave me alone!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. The train finally stopped, and Hermione grabbed her trunk and kicked open the door to the cabin, dragging it out in a hurry.

"Hermione!" Harry protested.

She ignored him.

She backed down the hall, dragging her trunk as she went, trying to reach the train door, when she felt herself backing into something solid.

"Ooof," she heard from behind. She ignored it, preffering not to speak to anyone, when she heard the familiar snobby drawl from behind.

"Are you going to apologise?" she pretended not to hear. Draco Malfoy was the last person she wanted to speak to for the moment.

"Excuse me, whoever you are, are you going to apologise or not?" he insisted. Hermione gasped. He didn't recognise her? She wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She looked up at him and saw him draw in a sharp breath when he realised who she was.

"Hermione?" he whispered. She held his gaze with a cold look.

"I apologise," she said.

§§§

Hermione dragged her trunk up to the thestral-drawn carriages and selected one towards the front. She opened the door, finding Ginny Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchley in a very awkward position. They had obviously been making out, and Hermione wanted to avoid any conversation at the moment, so she slammed the door just as Ginny opened her mouth to say something. She dragged her trunk to the next carriage, knocked, and upon finding it empty she stepped in, dragging her trunk in behind her, locking the door as soon as she could. She looked out the window, and on seeing Harry and Ron approaching the carriages she drew the curtains and ducked down, praying that they wouldn't see her. She saw them pass, and then settled into her seat for the journey to Hogwarts.

§§§

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of Hogwarts.

I can't believe it.

"Hey, Draco."

I really can not believe it.

"Draco!"

Who would've thought?

"Draco!"

I mean, Hermione?! Who would've thought?! Who really would have thought?!

"MALFOY!" Draco looked up, annoyed.

"What?!" he snapped. Pansy was taken aback. Draco never snapped at her! In all the months they had been- well, not dating, but close to - she had never had him snap at her! She was shocked! She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it and closed it again. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" he said snidely. Pansy's jaw dropped, and her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?" she sputtered.

"Well, it must've been the first time you've ever been speechless!" he remarked sarcastically.

"You - you -" she stammered with amazement.

"Whatever," he mumbled, before climbing out of the carriage.

He surveyed his surroundings. Even though Hogwarts had been his home for more than six years, after each year of returning the old castle never failed to amaze him in it's beauty. He never admitted it, but he was glad that his mother had insisted that he attend Hogwarts rather than attend Durmstrang like his father wanted.

He observed the scene around him disgustedly. God, these people made him sick! He looked around at all the people, rushing around, collecting their trunks, meeting up with friends and basically looking really stupid in all the frenzy. Then his eyes fell on Hermione, and now that he was getting a good look his jaw dropped.

He thought that it had been his imagination, but it was obvious that she really had changed over the summer. He loved her hair; the large curls looked so bouncy and springy! His eyes travelled over the rest of her body.

Her eyes were that beautiful shade of chocolate brown that had secretly always made him melt, though now they were outlined by thick line of eyeliner, her long curly lashes coated with mascara. Her straight nose; as beautiful as ever was powdered to perfection and her full lips were a luscious shade of shiny reddish-brown. And then her body - God, her body! - he thought - her sexy curves fitted her robes perfectly.

Oh, God, she's beautiful! He thought. She looked as though she'd been crying, which made her even more beautiful. She reminded him of something delicate- like flowers, or butterflies, or something pathetic like that. Vulnerable, yet beautiful. She looked over to him, saw him staring, and held his gaze. The expression on her face was strange...she always gave off this tough vibe, like nothing could break her, yet she looked...she looked hurt, and that's what pained him the most. She looked at him as though he had betrayed her, which- well, it was fair, but he still didn't like it. Just the look on her face tore through him like a blunt knife.

What is this?! He thought desperately. This isn't like me! This isn't like me at all!

Then a rogue tear gently made it's way down her cheek.

Stop it! He screamed in his thoughts. Don't do this to me! I refuse to feel guilty! I won't! STOP IT! He wretched himself away from her cruel gaze and turned, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath. He stayed like this for a few minutes, and when he turned, she was gone.

§§§

As soon as Hermione got inside Hogwarts, instead of heading for the Great Hall like everyone else she headed for the nearest toilets. In reaching them, she ripped open the closest cubicle door, locking it behind her then leaning up against it before sliding down into a sitting position and burying her face in her arms. She didn't care about her makeup anymore. She didn't care how smudged it got, how awful it looked.

Oh, God! What the hell is he doing to me? Hermione screamed to herself. I can't even look at him anymore without breaking down!

Then she burst into tears.

§§§

Hermione cried for awhile, and then when the she finally stopped - firstly because she thought she would become too dehydrated if she cried anymore, secondly because she thought she'd better at least make an appearance at the Welcoming Feast - she opened the door to the cubicle and nearly had a heart attack when she saw herself in the mirror. She fumbled for her wand and quickly cast a spell to clean herself up. The result was, quite literally, magic. Her makeup was perfect, her hair was beautifully springy and shiny, and her face was no longer red or puffy.

But Hermione felt anything but sleek and shiny and perfectly applied.

All she really wished to do at this point in time was go back home, change into her fluffy flannelette pyjamas and curl up in her armchair in front of the fire with a hot chocolate and a good book. At this point, though, that wasn't possible. For tonight, at least, she would have to grin and bear it. And then she made a decision.

Tonight she would meet with Malfoy.

§§§

Where is she? Thought Draco desperately. He hadn't seen Hermione during the Sorting Ceremony, and it was now well into the feast and she stil han't shown. He discreetly peered over to where Potter and Weasley were seated and saw that they looked a little worried. Every so often one of them would look around the Great Hall and to the doors as if that would give them some indication as to where Hermione was. And just as he, himself was starting fo worry even more about the fact that her two best friends didn't even know what was going on, one of the doors to the Great Hall creaked open slightly, and Hermione, looking extremely embarrassed, silently crept in and sat down amongst the other Gryffindors. He saw Harry give her a questioning look and ask her something- probably where she was all this time. Draco then noted Ron, who was saying something, looking a cross between guilty and apologetic. Draco sat back and sighed.

Why her? He thought. Of all people, why does it have to be her?

§§§

God, how embarrassing! Thought Hermione. All the stares...I'll never be late again, I swear!

"...yeah, it was sooo funny! Hey Herm, remember that?" asked Ginny. Hermione came out of her daze.

"Huh?" she blinked. She faked a smile. "Oh, yeah," she replied.

She had no idea what they were talking about.

"You sure you're okay?"asked Ginny, giving a look of slight suspicion. "I mean, you were kinda quick to run ou-"

"I'm fine!" she insisted, interrupting Ginny. She forced another smile. "Really."

"Then what was I talking about?" Ginny challenged. Hermione pretended that she didn't hear her.

"Hey, Harry, looking forward to one last Quidditch season?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, we'll be doing everything we can to win the cup this year. And now that I'm the captain, if the Slytherins' want to fight dirty then..." Hermione drifted off, and her thoughts wandered to Draco.

Why him? She thought. Of all people, why does it have to be him?

§§§