Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters are not mine. The song Sympathy for the Devil belongs to the Rolling Stone.

Warning: Dark and disturbing theme.

Summary: Hermione has all the pieces in her hands; but she didn't know there is a puzzle to be solved.

A/N: This chapter has been revised as of Oct 2, 09.

Azazel

The greatest sin of mankind is ignorance.

Pieces of the jigsaw puzzle were laid out neatly before her, but she did not see them. The siren was blaring loudly in the background, but she did not hear it. It was not until one rainy afternoon in the forbidden forest that the hammer struck home, leaving her grappling with the unsettling revelation. And she, Hermione Granger, had run away from it all, unable to believe what she had witnessed in the woods.

After that, she observed as much as she could, letting no detail escape her scrutiny. Clues were dancing so blatantly before her eyes she had to wonder how she could have been so blind. After much critical observation, she had little choice but to concede and accept the inevitable conclusion. Nevertheless, a sense of ill omen lingered in her mind.

As though mirroring the uncertainty and apprehension in her heart, the weather deteriorated. Windows rattled as if about to break; brisk, cold air brought about a constant chill inside the castle. The night sky beyond was a sickening, blushing grey, yet neither rain nor snow would fall.

Hermione was patrolling the deserted corridor when she chanced upon Draco Malfoy strolling towards her. Instant dislike immediately flared up in Hermione, though it was mixed with a sliver of begrudging tolerance, for she had gained a new insight into the Malfoy scion's character. She would attempt to accept Malfoy, if only for her friend's sake.

After taking a deep breath, she continued on her way and brushed past the Slytherin, only to hear Malfoy calling out to her, "Granger, I need to talk to you."

Turning around stiffly to face Malfoy, she feigned ignorance and asked, "What is it?"

"I'm sure you know that already." Malfoy leant his elbow on the window sill, grey eyes flickered with a wicked light. "About Potter, I mean."

Her heart skipped a beat, but Hermione maintained her composure. "What is there to talk about? You could probably tell what my feelings towards this particular topic are."

A small smirk had crept onto Malfoy's lips, a curve sharp as a scythe. "Indeed. Still, I cannot help but notice you have told no one of your discovery. Are you afraid of tarnishing your dear Harry's reputation? Or are you afraid of losing his trust?"

Hermione glared at this silver-tongued devil of a boy; nonetheless, she was disturbed by how uncannily close to the truth Malfoy's words were. "If this is all you want to talk about, then allow me to excuse myself."

Hermione was about to walk away when she was unceremoniously slammed against the wall. She felt nothing but pain as her head connected none too gently with the wall; crimson sparks danced before her eyes. When her vision was clear, she found herself staring at the tip of a wand and those viciously cold pupils of Malfoy's. The primal emotion that was panic rose to the surface of her consciousness, but she forced it down.

"It's not polite to walk away when someone is talking to you," Malfoy drawled, his head tilted curiously to the side, a habitual gesture she had often seen in someone else. For a disconcerting moment, Hermione thought she could see her friend's shadow in Malfoy.

"It's not polite to point your wand at someone's face when you want to talk," Hermione snapped back at Malfoy, those usually warm hazel eyes of hers flashing in anger.

"You are one to talk about etiquette, Granger. Intruding on other people's privacy is not what I would call courteous," he said nonchalantly. "You are quite a voyeur, aren't you? Did you enjoy what you have seen?"

At Malfoy's casual remark, a montage of images fluttered across Hermione's mind like teasing feathers, eliciting a blush on her face. She was tempted to slap him, but she feared any sudden movement on her part would land her in a much worse predicament than she was already in. Instead, she poured every ounce of her frustration into glaring at the infuriating boy.

"I wonder, what would Harry be?" Gently yet mockingly Malfoy caressed her cheek, his hand cold and clammy like that of a corpse. Repulsed, Hermione felt her skin crawl at the contact. "A combination of a sadist and a masochist, I reckon."

Indignation on her friend's behalf coursed through her veins like acid, prompting Hermione to forget for the moment she was threatened at wand point. "Who do you think you are? You don't know anything about Harry!"

"Oh?" A pale eyebrow arched in ill-intent, a look Hermione did not like at all. "And what gives you the confidence in assuming you know him so well? After all," his smirk broadened into a devious grin, "he came to me of his own accord. You see, when he's determined to obtain something, he is not above devising some very Slytherin-like tricks."

"Or so you claimed," Hermione countered heatedly, and yet, no longer did her voice sound certain; the venom of doubt had been injected into her heart. "Your words are meaningless without proof."

Malfoy squinted at her with narrowed eyes. "True. Unfortunately, I am not in the mood to humour you right now."

Hermione was not surprised by Malfoy's refusal to answer, but her inquisitive nature was getting the better of her. Mentally shaking her head, she asked, "What do you want from me?"

He twirled a lock of her hair with his fingers. "There is something I want you to do. Maintain your silence as you have always been, and that includes hiding from Potter the fact you have discovered his little secret. Simple as that."

Reasonable though Malfoy's proposal might seem, Hermione resented the commanding tone in his voice. "And if I don't agree to it?" she asked testily.

"Then you leave me no choice." With quiet yet unmistakable malice Malfoy jabbed his wand under Hermione's chin, forcing her to incline her head. "I have no scruples about cursing you, Granger. And I know quite a few dark curses that will bring about, shall we say, very degrading repercussion?"

Staring into those inorganic grey eyes of Malfoy's, Hermione knew he was serious. And yet, she could tell she was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. It was like trying to solve the Rubik's cube; no matter how many times she rotated the sides of the cube, she could not make that one lurid red square turn white. "Why don't you simply erase my memory instead?" she questioned.

"I have my reasons, but you don't need to know that," Malfoy replied smoothly and placed a hand beside Hermione's head in undisguised intimidation. "What will it be then?"

Hermione contemplated her options, which were far too limited for her liking. However tempting it might be to simply go along with Malfoy, she needed to know something first. After taking a deep breath, she asked tentatively, "Do you care for him?"

"Now you are prying," he coldly replied while leaning away from her, and Hermione unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. His reaction piqued Hermione's curiosity, for it was the first time on this night she had seen Malfoy's facade slipping ever so slightly.

Encouraged by her initial victory, she proclaimed boldly, giving the Slytherin no room to refute, "I've seen the way you look at him when you thought no one was watching, and the way you acted when you were alone with him. To be honest, I find it hard to believe you do not at least care a little about him." At that she bored her liquid amber eyes into Malfoy's sharp silver. "And as much as I hate to admit it, it seems Harry actually cares about you. As long as he's happy, I won't interfere."

A burst of mirthful laughter suddenly erupted in the desolate corridor, making Hermione jump in surprise. Bewildered she stared at Malfoy's shaking figure; behind him, the reflection of burning torches was superimposed upon the hazy crimson sky, giving the impression that the sky was on fire.

At last suppressing his laughter, Malfoy purred, "Ah, how sweet of you. You are actually giving me your blessing. But I doubt that fool of a boyfriend of yours would be as accommodating."

With a sinking feeling, she realised she had lost her battle; she was being toyed with by this devil of a boy like an ignorant kitten. "Ron isn't a fool, and he's not my boyfriend. And for your information, you are one of the last persons I ever want Harry to be with. Still, if you actually care about him, I will stay silent as you have so politely requested. If not, I will not hesitate to take him away from you."

"Can you?" Malfoy quirked a humorless smirk, a note of unexpected bitterness trickled into his voice. "I rather doubt that-"

Hermione never had the chance to hear what Malfoy was about to say, for at that very instant, Malfoy abruptly dropped his wand and clutched his left forearm, his face contorted in barely concealed agony. When the wand hit the ground with a clatter, Hermione hurriedly scrambled away from the boy. As realization struck her in full, loathing and disgust laced with horror flooded her mind.

Swiftly drawing her wand at Malfoy's hunched figure, she exclaimed furiously, "You took the Mark, didn't you? You-Know-Who is summoning his followers, and you are one of them! Does Harry know about this? Are you tricking him into believing you so that you can hand him over to You-Know-Who?!"

Mercurial eyes slowly raised to gaze at her, Malfoy graced her with a sardonic smile that seemed far too human for Hermione's comfort. "Hardly. And he's not exactly an innocent either, since he has already seen everything there is to be seen."

A blush flitted onto Hermione's face when she caught the implication, and clearly amused, Malfoy chuckled at her. Her mind reeling from the revelation, Hermione did not know what to think anymore. However probable it might be that Malfoy was deceiving her, her intuition told her he was telling the truth, at least in this instance. But then, why...

A sense of disquietude loomed over her as she recalled Malfoy's words. What gives you the confidence in assuming you know him so well? And despite herself, she began to suspect there might be some truth in those words, that perhaps she did not know her friend as well as she imagined. Even Malfoy, whom she thought she could decipher as easily as a simple substitution cipher, turned out to be a multi-layered riddle she could barely comprehend.

"Say, if you want to curse me, then go ahead," came Malfoy's patronising voice, which violently shook Hermione out of her musing. "I have other things to attend to, you see."

"You are not going anywhere!" Hysteria threatened to smother her, prompting her to clutch her wand tightly. "I'll turn you in, and you'll go to Azkaban like your father!" Even as those words departed from her mouth, she realised she had gone too far.

Those devilish silver eyes of Malfoy's narrowed conspicuously, and issuing from their reflective depths was a piercing gleam that stabbed into her very heart. "Be my guest," he uttered softly, his voice laced with a dangerous undercurrent, "and Potter's dirty secrets will be spilled out for the entire world to see."

"You are using Harry to threaten me?! How low of you! And here I thought you might actually feel something for him!"

And the boy clad in unfathomable black replied in a barely audible whisper, his tone laced with something feral that reminded Hermione chillingly of the worst kind of predators -- those whom no one could see coming until too late --, "You know nothing. If you report me to the authorities, Potter will fall, whether I will it or not."

Overcome by a sudden sense of dread, Hermione stared at Malfoy with wide eyes, trying to fathom out if he was telling the truth. From the way Malfoy phrased his threat, it sounded as though he was referring to something other than her friend's love affair. What other damning secret could her friend possibly be concealing from everyone but Malfoy?

Initially she had thought the confrontation with Malfoy might bring her answers, but instead of seeing what was hidden behind closed door, she had reached another set of doors, beyond which was probably another set of doors, and at the end of the labyrinth, a locked door she did not have the key for.

A dark shadow was sailing rapidly at her, and before she knew it, her wand arm was twisted behind her and something cold as steel was pressed against her neck. "Allow me to offer you a piece of advice," Malfoy whispered into her ear from behind, his warm breath teasing her skin. "Next time you are facing an enemy, just hex him and be done with that."

Feeling what was obviously the edge of a blade digging into her throat, she held her breath and attempted to keep her body from shaking in fright but failed. For the first time, she was truly afraid of Draco Malfoy, this young man who had become the embodiment of ink black malice. Then, as suddenly as it happened, she was released and roughly pushed. Stumbling for several steps before regaining her footing, she quickly whirled around, only to find Malfoy smirking condescendingly at her while twirling her wand in his hand.

"I'd love to stay, but I have a previous engagement I must attend to right now." After offering Hermione a mocking bow, he waved the wand, and his own wand flew obediently to him. Robbed of her only chance to fight back, Hermione felt her heart sink. "Perhaps we shall postpone this enlightening discussion of ours to a later date?"

"Of course we will," Hermione hissed through her teeth as she cradled her aching wrist to her chest. "If not, I will make sure Dumbledore knows about you. And don't be mistaken. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing this for Harry."

For once Malfoy offered neither a scathing remark nor a taunting sneer; he merely tilted his head and appraised her with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, a small smile slowly broke out, an almost secretive smile she could not entirely fathom out. "Whatever you say, Granger. It's good to know we are at least on the same page."

Puzzled though Hermione was by Malfoy's cryptic proclamation, she was not given further chance to dwell on it, for Malfoy suddenly raised his wand at her. Like a helpless swallow whose wings were clipped, she fell to the ground, her consciousness fading as swiftly as quicksand. The last thing she heard was Malfoy's voice whispering to her, "Sweet dreams, Hermione Granger," before darkness claimed her with welcoming arms.

With a frightful start, Hermione woke up from her involuntary slumber, her head throbbing with pain. Holding her head, she sat up with some difficulty and looked warily around her. She was in the same corridor as before, though the firelight had dwindled to a whisper; Malfoy was nowhere to be found. As she struggled to stand, her hand closed around something familiar on the floor; it was her wand. Comforted yet bewildered, she retrieved her wand and got up. Gazing at the window that would no longer hold her reflection, she saw nothing but a sea of red and black.

However fond she was of puzzles and cryptography, she began to wonder if perhaps this was one of those cursed puzzles she ought not to have touched. Nevertheless, the choice no longer rested with her, for she had unwittingly opened the box. Now that she had learnt of Malfoy's secrets, the Slytherin would most certainly not leave her be. Nonetheless, even that paled in light of whatever secrets her friend was harbouring. Suddenly, it appeared as if everyone at Hogwarts has a secret or two of his own. And now, the secret between her friend and Malfoy had become her secret as well.

Slowly she made her way back to the Gryffindor tower, her mind laden with fatigue and apprehension. She could not stop shivering when a cool draught fluttered by and caressed her face -- it reminded her too much of Malfoy's deathly cold hand.

Finis.

A/N: This is actually a predecessor to When the Black Veil Flutters. Without this piece, I wouldn't have come up with the idea for Black Veil. Yet, this one has a much darker theme. Also, notice that Draco keeps switching between calling Harry "Harry" and "Potter".