"Ms. Granger!" Professor McGonagall uncharacteristically snapped at her top student. She took a few quick steps towards the young woman and brought her wand down against the desk, startling several of the students in the transfiguration class. "Ms. Granger if you cannot muster the energy to focus in class, then you can be excused." Professor McGonagall knew she was taking a risk by her sudden outburst at the unofficial favorite student in Hogwarts, but she knew something had to be done.

Hermione slowly turned her gaze up towards the professor who was frowning at her and without changing her blank expression, she methodically gathered up her various books and papers. Standing she faced Professor McGonagall and without any hesitation calmly replied, "Very well."

Professor McGonagall was inwardly shocked. The past few months she had kept a close watch on Hogwart's top students and Hermione had become of particular interest to her. The changes she had been witnessing had begun to be concerning, but there had not had any reason to voice them to the other professors…until lately. Hermione had become distant and unresponsive in class, and McGonagall had had reports that she was becoming increasingly isolated from the other Gryffindors and that even Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had tapered off trying to figure out what was happening to their best friend. As McGonagall watched Hermione slowly, yet purposely leave the classroom she knew that something was going terribly wrong.

Hermione gazed out the dusty window across the extensive grounds of Hogwarts and let her eyes settle on the outskirts of the ancient forest. Pulling her knees closer to her chest, she let out a long slow sigh. She let her mind slowly go numb as she let the deep greens and muted browns of the forest blur together, and as her eyes began to burn she let them tear up, trying to force her body to cry. But the tears didn't come; they didn't create streaks of raw emotion across her checks, or slowly drop down to dampen the top of her black school robes. Hermione was emotionally raw and empty at the same time. Her quest for knowledge had finally begun to take its toll on her mind and her body had followed.

She sat gazing out the window for several minutes, letting time simply pass her by until she suddenly tensed as the old, heavy wooden door to the forgotten room slowly groaned open. Without turning she knew who it was and what was to come. She had been seeking this moment since the beginning of the school year, and now, in this instant she was scared to death of what was going to happen. She had questioned herself countless times, chiding herself and hating herself for what she was doing, and yet, deep within her she knew…she knew that this was the only way. Her sacrifice would set a serious of events in motion that would change the world…she only hoped that it would be a change for the better.

"It's time," cold seeped into her bones at the deep voice whispered to her. "Are…are you ready?" Hermione wanted to cry, to lash out at the timid concern behind the darkness that was beginning to envelop her. She turned, standing to face the cold eyes watching her - always calculating, always searching. Seemingly unkempt blonde hair hung across the forehead of the young man who stood before her, his body held erect with the air of importance.

"I am ready," Hermione tried to keep her voice steady, but couldn't help a slight tremor to her words. Draco Malfoy was unaccustomed to working with or let alone trusting another person, and he knew that Hermione had tried to respond to his cold, calculating manor by keeping her emotions in check, but he also knew that no one could possibly survive without showing some emotion with what she was going through. And because of her restraint on his behalf, he was trying to soften his hard demeanor and give her some sort of reassurance. But he always found that no matter how he tried she never responded.

"The others have already gathered…do you wish to change?" Draco tentatively asked.

Hermione lowered her gaze, looking at the patterns their footprints had created through the dust on the wooden floors. And for a small moment she let her mind wander, releasing a fraction of the pressure she was under before returning her gaze to the young man. "No. I..will present myself as I am." She gave a small wave of her hand, gesturing to the school robe. "This represents who I am and why I am doing this better than anything could."

Draco tilted his head in acknowledgement. Gently he extended his hand towards Hermione and held his breath as he waited for her to gently place her hand in his. As her cool skin slowly touched his, the knot in his stomach tightened and he fought hard to keep his emotions in check. He tightened his grip, and he began to slowly breathe the few words he needed to transport them.

Harry burst into the common room, his eyes desperately seeking the familiar shock of red hair. "Ron!" his voice deep and full of urgency. "Now, up in the room," he took just a second to make eye contact with his best friend before rushing up the stairs and into the dormitory. Ron quickly made his way from the deep red and gold chair where he had been struggling in vain to work on his potions homework. He knew that tone from Harry, and that whatever it was, it was something immediately important.

He entered their shared room to find Harry angrily muttering to himself, pacing back and forth. "What is it?" Ron asked, concern written across his face.

Harry turned, his eyes full of raw and unbridled rage. "It's Hermione! It has always been Hermione, Ron."

"What is Hermione?" Ron furrowed his brow in sudden confusion, and fear at the rage he could feel radiating off of Harry.

"Everything! She…she has been working with…I was talking with Professor McGonagall and she confirmed it all! I just can't believe this is what has been going on, I never thought, could not have imagined that after all that we have been through together that she could just," Harry threw up his hands in anger, turned and began to punch the carved bedpost.

"Oi, Harry don't break my bed," Ron cried out, leaping forward and pulling Harry back from repeating his assault on the wooden offender.

Harry roughly shoved him, "Don't touch me!" He almost screamed at Ron, what little control he had on his emotions breaking.

"Harry you've got to calm down and make some sense," Ron pleaded knowing that the rage he saw in Harry was dangerous, and he had to get under control.

Harry spun around and faced his friend squarely in the face. "Hermione has done the unthinkable. She has betrayed us all. Tonight she has…she has…" Harry stopped almost choking on the words as they stuck in his throat.

"What!" Ron almost shouted in impatience.

"Hermione has become…a, she has chosen," Harry suddenly sat down on the edge of his bed, seeming to age several years in a few seconds. He looked up at Ron, his eyes full of unspeakable pain and sorrow. Ron bent down on his knees, looking Harry square in the face, waiting as his body filled with fear.

"She has become a Death Eater."