The Beginning of the End

Chapter Three: Secret

Draco sat at his desk, one hand prompting his silky silver-blond head and the other gently strumming the desktop. He replayed the morning's events in his mind over and over again, wondering if his father had actually committed the murder of Granger's parents. His father never told him of the Dark Lord's plans because he was afraid it might be too suspicious if Draco knew.

"Well," Draco said to himself, "since the crime has been committed and everyone already knows about it, what harm will come if I owl him about it? I can get that Mudblood bitch off my back."

Feeling the tinest bit better, he pulled out some parchment and grabbed his eagle feathered quill, and started to scribble quickly in his cursive writing:

Father,

Heard about the Muggle killings last night from paper. It's very unfortunate. Such a shame to have so many lives destroyed in one night. You must be devastated, even though we have never gotten along with the Muggles. Dumbledore wishes us to remain at the school. I have no qualms with it. And Granger, you know, lost her parents in this tragedy.

Do you have any thoughts or ideas about this incident, particularly of the last one?

Draco.

Satisfied with his letter, he stuck it into an envelope. If it were to be intercepted along the way, nobody would think anything of it. But his father would know better. His father would read between the lines.

Draco stood up and slowly walked over to his open window, whistling softly. His blood red owl appeared instantly.

"That's a good girl, Mary," he murmured. "Bring that to Father. I will be expecting you tonight."

The owl merely tilted her head to the left in response and flew away. Draco watched after her, admiring his owl's swift and powerful movements in the sky. He smiled fondly, remembering how small she had looked when he had first received her from his parents. But she had a voracious appetite and she quickly grew up to become this beautiful owl. It was so hard to decide on a name for her, but he quickly named her after the Queen Mary, aka Bloody Mary, when he realized that her feathers looked like blood whenever it hit the sun. His father thought it was an excellent name and his mother quickly agreed with him.

He sat down on his luxurious king side bed, once again congratulating himself on achieving Head Boy status. Without it, he would have never gotten a room for himself, and this room was exquisite in every way. It was decorated in the Slytherin colors, of course, but one could never get too tired of green and silver. Everything was made out of solid wood and depending on the seasons, had black velvet or thin white sheet coverings. He imagined that the Head Girl room was the same as well, but with the Gryffindor colors instead.

Draco then fell back on his bed, his hair a halo around his face. He stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering if Dumbledore was going to cancel all classes today. Then he smirked. Of course he was! Those who lost their parents will need the time to get over their losses before busying themselves with school. So then that meant a day of relaxation for him. He might as well make up for the lost sleep. Closing his eyes, he eased his body into a dreamless sleep.

The portrait on his wall smiled brightly. She was a beautiful twenty-year old witch with flowing emerald green hair that curled at the end and bright maroon eyes outlined with long lashes. Her name was Emerald. She was dressed in black robes that faded into the dark background, so that the admirer of the portrait can only concentrate on the witch. Emerald loved watching Draco and his androgynous beauty. She knew most girls as well as portraits would kill to be her, to be able to see this man sleep, do homework, change, and more. She grinned wickedly as she continued to watch him sleep. He surely was a fallen angel, this man with his strictly aristocratic features and curious ways, she thought a bit sadly. He must be one of Lucifer's.

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Ron stared open mouthed at his two friends. "So, it's true?"

Harry nodded grimly. "For once, the paper got it right. Voldemort's back."

The red-head was lost for words. He was certain that it was all a cruel joke, but with his best friend informing him that it wasn't...well, that came as quite a shock. Running a hand through his smooth hair, he turned to look at Hermione.

To say the truth, she scared him when she was like this. He wasn't used to this side of her. She looked like a goddess that suddenly found herself stuck on Earth, a lost and melancholy goddess with crystal tears. Hermione had certainly changed since their first year; she was no longer a mouse with big bushy hair, but a slim woman with curves, breasts, and sleek curly hair that reached her lower back. She was indeed very pretty, but if she wanted to glamorize herself with makeup, she easily could have made even Aphrodite jealous. Ron returned his gaze to Harry.

Hermione hugged herself tightly and watched her two best friends talk solemnly, every now and then looking at her. She didn't bother to wipe her tears anymore. There was no use for it because they kept coming and coming. She thought about how different it was from yesterday. Yesterday, they were laughing and celebrating Gryffindor's quick win over Ravenclaw. They were smiling and throwing her around, their eyes shining brightly, so different from today. Yesterday seemed centuries ago to her.

She inspected Harry and Ron, and for the first time this year, finally realized just how much they have changed. They weren't those tall and somewhat scrawny boys from before, no. They were men. They had both grown taller, but of course, Ron would always be the taller of the two. They had already reached puberty, she remembered, thinking about the fifth year and the boys' unstable voices. She laughed quietly. It was quite a thing to hear them go from high to low with every syllable. But the boys had definitely filled out and taken on the slim male chest and their muscles weren't so hidden anymore. Harry was very handsome and Ron, though not as handsome as Harry, made most girls faint.

"'Mione?" Ron asked.

Hermione tilted her head his way. "Hm?"

"Well...we were thinking, Harry and I, that, maybe you should get some sleep. You don't look very well, and if you like, we can get some sweets and tea for you when you wake up," he said, ears slightly red.

"You guys are the best, really. I don't know what I would do without you guys," she said, happy to have such great friends.

Harry and Ron smiled at her as she stood up and walked over to the door that led to the Heads' dormitory.

"We're glad to be of service," Harry called after her.

"Anytime," Ron added.

"Thanks, guys. I really -do- need the sleep," she said before stepping out of the Gryffindor common room to the Head Boy and Girl dormitory.

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Hermione didn't quite make it to her room, though. She reached her and Malfoy's common room and slumped down in a dark cherry ball/claw recliner. She placed her arms on the fitted arm caps and stared silently out of the window.

"How can it be so bright and sunny, even after everything that has happened?" she whispered. "How can the world still go on? How can -anything- continue after last night?"

Even though she knew the answers to her questions, she still felt the need to ask them. The events of last night didn't matter to nature. The world still went on after the dinosaurs became extinct. Time is perpetual. Those were the answers.

She sighed.

"I don't want to pretend to be happy when I'm not. But I can't go on moping around forever. And why am I talking like this--it hasn't even been an entire day. Of -course- I can mope around and cry. But then that's all I'm going to do--cry. Merlin, I'm becoming a walking contradiction."

She closed her dark amber eyes.

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

Hours later, Draco woke up, feeling very refreshed. It was about 2:30 PM. He stretched on his bed, his movements graceful and cat-like, and pulled his silver and green duvet away from his body.

"Damn, I missed lunch," he said. "I supposed I can wait until dinner."

Draco got off his bed and walked to the portrait, combing his hair with his long fingers. "Hello, Emerald."

"Draco," she greeted him. "How are you today?"

"Could be better, but let's not get into that. Let's talk about, hm, the weather," he said, simpering.

"The weather? Are you -that- bored?"

"Perhaps."

"I'm not," she responded, grinning. "In fact, I have a bridge game to attend to. Adieu." She disappeared.

"Ah, the life of a portrait," Draco said. "Must be very boring."

He opened the door and stepped out into the common room. He immediately spotted Hermione in her favorite chair and he regarded her impassively for a moment. This, without a doubt, was the worst he had ever seen her. He shrugged to himself and opened the door that led to the Slytherin common room.

"Draco," greeted Crabbe.

He acknowledged him with a nod. "Did you know about the Muggle killings?"

"Not a clue. Our parents won't tell us," Crabbe said.

"Ah, great. Then I am not the only one. Hey, you and Goyle are scheduled for the Dark Mark right after school, right?"

"Yeah. It's the Lord's order. What's with all these questions?"

"Just making sure." Draco tilted his head to the side. "I can't wait to get it. Father has wanted me to get the Mark for quite a while now, but Lord Voldemort never approved of it. He didn't want any of us who attended Hogwarts to get it just yet... Dumbledore would know if we did." He was musing to himself.

Crabbe nodded. "Yeah... Hey, I'm just wondering--why did you let Granger go on and on about that this morning? Why didn't you just tell her to shut up or something?"

"I honestly don't know."

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That evening, Draco sat in his usual seat at the Slytherin table. He slowly ate his dinner while staring out of the window, waiting for his response. Not surprisingly, there weren't many people for dinner tonight and Draco enjoyed the bleak silence. There were only five other students at the Slytherin table and he was isolated from them.

He spotted Mary flying over head with a letter and he smiled.

"Thanks, Mary," he said, grabbing the letter and opening it.

Draco,

Yes, I agree. It is quite the tragedy. Those poor Muggles. It is most unfortunate that some of your fellow classmates had Muggle parents, especially that Granger girl. It is said that her parents had a slow death. But I wouldn't know, now would I? After all, I was never there.

- Father.

Tucking the letter away, Draco grimaced slightly. So, Granger was correct. His father -did- kill her parents. But it didn't matter anyways. After all, he certainly wasn't planning on telling her that she was right. She would probably run off to Dumbledore and get his father in trouble. Nope, that was definitely not happening.

Finishing up his dinner, he briefly wondered what he should do.

"Ah. Screw this," he muttered. "I just need a good shag."

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

Hermione woke up to the sound of Draco telling someone to be quiet and a female voice. It was dark and the candles weren't lighted yet, but she knew what was going on--this wasn't the first time it had happened.

That bastard, Hermione thought. His father killed my parents and he's off going to shag with some whore to celebrate. Fucking bastard. Well, not this time.

She pulled out her wand from her robes and crossed her arms.

"Draco, why are we being so quiet? She's probably asleep!"

Great. Pansy Parkinson.

"Taking necessary precaution," came his low voice. There was a kissing sound and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"She'll never know. I mean, we can be in front of her bloody room and she would never even guess," Pansy said after a while.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in the dark. Gross.

"Just shut up and come on."

The voices grew louder, and Hermione spotted two figures entering the room. Crossing her legs, she leaned back into the recliner.

"How about here?" Pansy asked.

Oh, Merlin, no, thought Hermione. You have a room for a reason!

She heard a robe fall. Just... fucking... peachy. She definitely did -not- need this right now.

"Lumos," she said.

The light spread all over the room and Hermione glared at the two Slytherins. Pansy was on her knees in front of Draco and Draco had his head turned towards Hermione, staring daggers at her.

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing?" Hermione ask, getting pissed off. "Are you celebrating my parents' death?"

Pansy stood up and smirked. "How did you ever--"

"Get the fuck out of here. NOW," Hermione shouted, turning her wand on the other girl.

"You're willing to hit someone who is unarmed?" Pansy questioned.

"Do you want to try me and find out?"

Pansy sneered, but knew it was pointless to argue with Hermione without a wand. She trudged out of the room, leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

"Well? What do -you- have to say? I was right, wasn't I?"

Draco didn't say anything. Hermione then knew her accusation was not wrong. It didn't make her feel any better. She put her wand down and leaned further back into the recliner, crying softly.

Draco, on the other hand, was glaring at her small form. She scared away Pansy, now what was he going to do? He sure as hell wasn't going to shag her instead. He might as well have a little fun with her, though, before going off to bed.

He walked over to the recliner and Hermione weakly pointed her wand out at him, but he grabbed it and threw it to the side. It made a low 'clunk' as it hit the wall. He then placed his legs on the seat, pressing her thighs together, almost sitting on her. Hermione ignored him and focused on the the pain awaking in her heart again. They were dead, dead, dead, dead. Lucius Malfoy killed them. Voldemort killed them. And Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, the man who had killed her parents, was practically sitting on her lap. She cried harder.

Draco leaned forward, his upper torso pressed against hers and he stared down at her. Then he placed a finger under her chin, slowly forcing her to look up at him.

And that's when she broke. With her free hands, she shoved Draco off her. She stood up and glared down at the man at her feet.

"Don't you dare try that on me again, Death Eater." She stepped on his back as she walked into her room.