Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy stood in Borgin and Burkes, facing what would be most of his challenge for the next school year. That and...He didn't want to think about it. He'd learnt over the summer that it was best to let it slip away from his mind. He'd think about it closer to the time...Right now he was concentrating on this strange looking cupboard he'd have to fix. He studied it closely before turning towards Borgin.

'You're sure you know how to fix it?'

'Possibly' replied Borgin. Draco raised his eyebrow.

'I'll need to see it though. Why don't you bring it into the shop' Borgin continued. Draco almost rolled his eyes. He had no time for this.

'I can't' he drawled. 'It's got to stay put. I just need you tell me how to do it.' He watched Borgin's neck break into a sweat as he licked his lips nervously.

'Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything.' Well that just won't do, thought Draco.

'No? Perhaps this will make you more confident' He sneered as he watched Borgin pale at the sight of his left arm. Why not push him a little more?

'Tell anyone and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend; he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention.'

'There will be no need for-'

'I'll decide that. Well I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that on safe, I'll need it' he pointed to the ugly necklace.

'Perhaps you'd like to take it now?' asked Borgin.

Draco's patience was wearing thin.

'Of course I wouldn't you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it.'

With a few more biting words and reminders about also keeping the necklace safe, and a bow from Borgin, Draco walked out of the shop. Everything was set for this next year. He had all the equipment, all he had to do now was fix the cabinet and...No, he wouldn't think about it. He'd been chosen for this. He could do this. The Dark Lord had trusted him. Though he wouldn't admit it, he couldn't help but feel that nauseas sensation each time he had to think about doing it. Murder...it seemed so cold.

He shook his head before he could dwell on it any longer. It was life. He had to accept it. This was his life now.

A.D.F

Hermione really was starting to get a head-ache.

'He's a Death Eater! He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!' he all but shouted.

Again Ron laughed and told him he was mental, resulting in Harry getting more frustrated and launching into a long and well thought out speech about why Malfoy was most definitely a Death Eater. Personally Hermione found it hard to believe, Malfoy was only sixteen, like her, and she highly doubted Voldemort would want a boy of sixteen in his ranks. Still she gave up arguing her case, especially since Fleur had just walked in and that was sure to add another pound to her head-ache.

' 'Ermionee, 'ave you seen Molly? I 'ave been theenking of whezzer to dress ze bridesmaids 'een blue or gold...' she continued her rambling.

Of course, the wedding was next summer and it seemed it was all Fleur could talk about. Not that Hermione minded so much, it was just she needed a break from all the girl talk every now and then...like right now for example.

She found it strange riding in the ministry cars to King's Cross station the following morning. Poor Harry, this went against every wish he had to be normal for once. Instead he had an unwanted army or Aurors accompanying him simply to a station.

The train journey passed by in quite a blur. She and Ron had left Harry as they had to attend the prefect carriage, but not before she glanced at Harry and saw him smile as his eyes zoned in on Ginny. Ah...she had suspected as much.

'Why're you smiling 'Mione?' Ron asked, his mouth chewing on the remains of his chocolate frog.

'Ronald will you stop talking and eating at the same time?' she demanded, only to have him roll his eyes at her. At least she managed to avoid the question. It would be much funnier for him to see what was between Harry and Gin for himself...

A.D.F

Draco was taking deep breaths. He'd just dismissed Pansy, this needed to be done out of the public's eye. Potter was in here somewhere...His eye roamed the compartment again when he noticed another flash of white. He carefully withdrew his wand and...

'Petrificus Totalus!' He grinned when he heard the toppling and crashing of Potter's body.

Removing the cloak, he pointed his wand at Potter's face, even though he knew he couldn't move.

'I thought so' he was just too observant. 'I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back. That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in I suppose?' He smirked at the great Harry Potter, completely powerless beneath him.

'You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here...' He felt the adrenaline course through him as he stamped on his enemy's face.

'That's for my father' He hated Potter, he could feel the detestation running through him.

The satisfaction he felt at another person's pain would later haunt him, but in that moment, he'd never been gladder to bring pain to the boy he loathed. Picking the invisibility cloak up, he threw it over Potter's body.

'I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London...see you around Potter...or not.' He quickly left the compartment, hoping Potter would be left on the train. If he wasn't at school perhaps Draco's task would be easier...

As he walked into the great hall he instantly (out of habit) looked towards the Gryffindor table. Now that Potter was missing he was curious as to what the reaction would be. Longbottom was looking confused as usual; Finnigan and Thomas were messing around but occasionally looking towards the entrance, slightly worried. The Weaslette was just staring at the door, hands clenched. Weasley himself was switching between eating frantically and glancing towards the door, whilst Granger was switching between watching the door and watching Weasley eating savagely, mildly disgusted. Good, it was about time she realised what a swine he was. Not that Draco cared, it's just that he hated Weasley and wanted him to suffer, and if rejection from Granger was the way to go about it, then better that way.

No one suspected him. No one even glanced in his way. He was Malfoy; he always got as he wanted and if he wanted to be invisible, he would be.

A.D.F

Where was he? Hermione was worried, as always. Harry was missing, and it was never good when Harry was missing. He could be hurt, he could've gone to the toilet on the train and maybe it had gone back with him, he could have been captured, he could have run away...oh Merlin someone could have killed him- and suddenly there he was, clutching his nose trying to stop the blood, but otherwise intact and healthy enough.

'Where've you – blimey, what've you done to your face?' said Ron. She thanked her stars that he managed to get the food out of his mouth long enough to be worried about his best friend.

'Why what's wrong with it?' answered Harry. Honestly, she didn't know which was worse, being completely oblivious to the fact that you're covered in blood or still eating and talking at the same time, at the age of sixteen.

'You're covered in blood!' How blind could one get? She pointed her wand towards Harry's nose 'Come here...Terego' and the blood was gone, leaving Harry back to his non-blood induced normal faced self.

'Thanks' he whispered. 'How's my nose looking?'

'Normal. Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened, we've been terrified!' she declared.

'I'll tell you later' he looked around anxiously. Well that was just unfair!

'But-'

'Not now, Hermione,' she shut up at that.

It was rare for Harry's voice to go so low and become scarily demanding. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance and heard a guffaw come from the slytherin table. When she laid her eyes on the culprit, she found it was Malfoy, pointing at Harry and making movements towards his own nose. Definitely suspicious. Surely Harry could defend himself against Malfoy? However when she looked towards Harry for answers, he was too busily preoccupied with the difficult task of glancing at the front, and then Ginny, and then the front, and then Ginny, and then the front, and then Ginny...and so forth. Hermione rolled her eyes; he'd get there one day.

Feeling a pair of eyes on her, she glanced around the room, to find Malfoy staring towards their table again. Except this time, his intense grey glare was shooting right at her. Glaring back, she saw him grip his fork, before mouthing 'Mudblood' clearly enough so that she'd have no problem reading his lips. She'd like to say that after years of him taunting her, she was now completely indifferent. She'd like to say that it didn't affect her in any way. That unfortunately wasn't true. It didn't upset her or make her ashamed; she was a muggle-born and was proud of it too. It did however, make her blood boil and anger her. That loathsome, disgusting evil snake genuinely had it stuck in his head that he was better than her, because he had so called 'pure blood'. Only an ignorant mind would define greatness due to blood, not due to mind and courage, compassion and kindness. That was Malfoy. That would always be Malfoy. Arrogant, devishly handsome, ignorant, mean, aristocratic, cold and very conceited. Not to mention cowardly.

So she tilted her chin up, concentrated her eyes solely on him and gave him the best glare she could muster. It had the wanted effect, his eyes widened, before he gritted his teeth and looked away. HA! Point to Granger. She smirked and that was that.

A.D.F

Fucking Mudblood. He'd noticed her staring whilst he was recounting the brilliant story of how he hammered his foot down on Potter's face. She looked annoyed at first, then curious, then disbelieving and then suspicious. Did she think he was incapable of winning against Potter? Did she think Potter would out-match him? How dare she think so low of him? Stupid Mudblood. He watched her roll her eyes as Potter pathetically fawned over the Weaslette. Blood traitor. Then her eyes turned back to him. Good, now her attention was completely his, he could once again crush her.

'Mudblood' he mouthed. She'd been away from him an entire summer and he'd forgotten how much he loved reminding her of her place. Reminding her that she was no better than the dirt beneath his shoe. Than Mud. He was aware that his breathing was getting shallower and his hand was gripping his fork tightly so that he looked perhaps a little mad, but he didn't care. He relished in insulting Granger, relished in watching her eyes spark each time he offended her, relished in watching her face grow red, giving her an unnatural and ugly glow to her normally ivory complexion. Another reason he hated her; she was too pretty. So pretty it was unrealistic. Her eyes were too gold and her hair was too curly (no longer bushy, he had to grudgingly admit), her mouth was too perfectly pink and her face too perfectly symmetrical. Her looks weren't unlike those of a china doll, perfect, but annoyingly so. She wasn't attractive, she was beautifully perfect. And he hated perfection.

He saw the defiance spark in her eyes after he mouthed that word, and he loved that even after all this years it still affected her. Not perhaps in the way he'd like (so that it broke her) but still enough to fluster and anger her. To set her teeth on edge. But then she was tilting her chin up, and her eyes zoned on him completely. Her hair seemed like it was crackling with energy and all he could focus on was the death glare she was firing at him. He felt his pulse quicken in exhilaration and fear and excitement all at the same time. He'd have to analyse those feelings later, but now all he could do was shake and then look away. He grit his teeth realising she'd won, but he couldn't bring himself to compete with a look like that. He'd never admit it, not even to himself after tonight, but it was terrifying when Granger glared with passion. Terrifying and...He felt disgusted with himself at the internal confession...dare he say it hot. Terrifying and absolutely alluring. He hated her.