Merely a prologue, future chapters will definitely be much longer. And as for the prologue itself...everything will fit together in time!

“This area looks familiar,” he whispered, “You search over there, I’ll look over here.” 

“Right,” she nodded.

Suddenly she tripped over a branch.  Scrambling to her feet, she moved a bush to the left…and nearly fainted.

Draco Malfoy was alive. 

But barely.

“What are you going to do Mudblood? Hex me? Personally, I don’t think you have nerve. Besides, you touch me,” he leaned even closer, “I will hurt you.”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?” 

“Because! You’re hurting! This trust you have in your father is killing you! Why don’t you care?”

“WHY DO YOU?”

Twice in the same day, Hermione was contradicted. The first time was when she assumed the hallway in her dreams was the brightest thing in existence. And then Felix had kissed her, nullifying that belief. This time, she had assumed that Malfoy looked his best while smiling. And now she knew that that wasn’t true at all.

Draco Malfoy looked his best while smiling and not wearing a shirt.

Tristan stiffened and leaned closer. Hermione involuntarily moved back.

“Do you and I have a problem?” Tristan’s voice reeked of poisonous intent. 

The night was cool and wet. A mist blanketed the neighborhood and a breeze whispered through the trees. 

Marching out of the back gate, Hermione didn’t look at the house as she turned on the spot and apparated.

Draco couldn’t believe it. Everything he had ever wanted to hear, the approval he had always wanted to see in his father’s eyes, was making itself known right before him. And yet it seemed that the praise was years too late.

He stood, running a shaking hand through his hair. “You realize, don’t you, that this speech should have been delivered when I was ten.”

Hermione could hear Bellatrix muttering incoherently in reply. Lucius snorted. "Just get on with it. I have to go distract the Dark Lord…unless you want to do that instead while I kill Draco?"