Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sadly.
A/N: This is my first Dramione fanfic, so no flames, please! Don't forget to follow, favourite and review if you like it!
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Draco Malfoy could remember the exact moment when Hermione Granger disappeared.
It was a rainy day in November, the 29th, to be exact, and it was dinnertime. All of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, digging ravenously into the multiple platters of food that decorated the long tables, and Draco had just been sitting there, half-heartedly listening to the story that Blaise was telling to anyone of the other sixth-year's that would listen.
"-And then she said, I've never met another boy like you-"
It was then that Draco Malfoy's life turned on its head. Blaise was cut off by a terrified scream that filled the Hall, and Draco shot to his feet in surprise, along with a lot of the other Slytherins.
"Hermione!" Potter yelled at the same time as Weasley, and Draco watched in horror as his bright, brave, sort-of-secret-girlfriend fell, crying, onto the flagstones.
He was running, he realised, sprinting around the Hall and dropping to his knees beside her, unsure of what to do but willing to do anything to stop her from hurting like it sounded like she was hurting.
"Merlin, Granger, what is it? What's-"
She tried to grab at his hand, and looked at him urgently, eyes filled with tears.
"Draco…hurts-"
And she was gone, fading into the stones as if she'd never been there in the first place, and Draco was left, kneeling on the floor next the Gryffindor table, stunned.
"What the hell did you do, Malfoy?"
Potter yanked him up by the collar, green eyes blazing, and Draco didn't even react as the other boy shook him furiously.
"What did you do to her? What did you do?"
"Nothing." Draco recovered his composure, but inside he was hollow, filled with dread. "Must be your ego, Potter. That, or Weasel King's stupidity. I could feel them both from the other side of the Hall."
Professor McGonagall came rushing over from the Teacher's Table.
"All of you! My office, immediately!"
Sometime earlier…
Hermione Granger readjusted her bag on her shoulder, shivering in the autumn chill, as she made her way down to Knockturn Alley. Harry and Ron were in George's shop, visiting him, and she hadn't told them where she was going. It would only worry them.
It'll be fine, Hermione Granger mentally reassured herself. You just need to find out what's going on.
The shop she was heading towards was grimy and dingy, seemingly abandoned; only the short man cleaning down the window with a dirty cloth gave any sign that it was still open and hadn't succumbed to debt like so many of the other shops in the hidden street. There were people in Borgin and Burkes, and Hermione guessed it was the Malfoys again. They'd left, but still. He and his mother might have left their evil furniture in there and had to go back for it.
Suddenly a huge man emerged from the shadows of the alley, leering at her, and Hermione gasped in shock.
"Well well well. What do we have here?"
"A person. Going shopping." Hermione said slowly, like she was talking to a child.
"Yeah, but what shop you going to?"
"Yaxley's."
"What you going there for?"
"Why do you think?" Hermione snapped impatiently, and the man stepped forward, revealing his small beady eyes and pasty complexion.
"Careful, missy. People might think you're looking for trouble."
The rusty bell on the door of Borgin and Burkes let out a feeble clang, and Hermione's heart sunk as Draco Malfoy stepped out, brushing dust off his obviously expensive black suit. He stopped, a smirk on his face as he assessed the situation, and then seemed to make up his mind.
"Ah, Pansy! There you are!"
Malfoy was at Hermione's side in a heartbeat, and threw his arm around her shoulder, suppressing a shudder.
"I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Who are you, then?" The man demanded. "The lady and I-"
"She's sixteen." Malfoy sneered. "And pretty undeveloped for it."
Hermione stomped down hard on his foot, but Malfoy didn't react, just kept smirking and spoke with a smug sneer.
"Draco Malfoy, and this is Pansy Parkinson. What were you saying?"
The man scowled and skulked off.
Malfoy immediately snatched his arm away from Hermione like she'd burnt him.
"What the hell are you doing down here, Granger?"
"Going to Ancient Curses and Repellents." She replied snottily.
"Knockturn Alley is no place for a Mudblood."
"You'd think that Hogwarts is no place for Death Eaters' children, but here you are, shopping for school things."
It escaped from her before she could stop it, and Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I just saved your neck, Granger, so I'd watch your mouth."
"I had everything under control."
"I'm sure you did, if having everything under control means being found dead, naked, fifty miles from here, in two days' time."
"It wouldn't have come to that. I had my wand."
"And what were you going to do? Send a little Stupefy at him?"
Hermione crossed her arms and turned her back on him, walking towards the dingy shop with a peeling sign above the blackened wooden door: Yaxley's Curse Experts; Open and flourishing since 1756.
"Where are you going now?"
"It's none of your business."
"You're going to get yourself killed."
"I don't see why you should care. I'm a Mudblood, remember?"
"No." He said quietly, and she got the impression that if he was willing to touch her he would be holding her by the shoulders now, shaking her, trying his best to knock some sense into her. His voice hissed in her ear. "Not here, you're not. You're Pansy Parkinson until you leave this alley, you understand me?"
She nodded dumbly, internally fuming.
"Good. Now get what you need and get out."
Hermione took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
The squirrely man hurried to behind the counter as they entered.
"How can I help you?"
"I…" Hermione looked awkwardly at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes and wandered off to have a look around at the objects on the sparse shelves.
"I think…I mean…do you have any books on curses? Like, how to get rid of them?"
The man looked affronted, peering at her over his spectacles. "Of course I do. What kind of business do you think I'm running here? They're at the back." He pointed one gnarly finger towards where Malfoy was standing, flicking through a dusty volume with a bored look on his face.
"Thank you."
Hermione reached up nervously for the first book, which was titled Curses of the Darkest Art, but couldn't reach it. Malfoy plucked it off the bookshelf and held it out to her.
"Honestly, Granger, you're so short you're practically a house elf. It's pathetic."
"Oh really? How's Daddy doing in Azkaban?" Hermione hissed.
Malfoy let out a snarl and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him. The bell gave a feeble tinkle. Hermione, feeling triumphant, took another book off the shelf, and went over to the counter.
"Just these, please."
"Fifteen Galleons."
Hermione looked at him, aghast, and then frowned.
"I could take my business somewhere else, you know. Five."
"Ten."
"Seven."
"Fine." He said begrudgingly, and she handed over the money.
"Thank you."
Stepping out into the dark street, Hermione shivered in the cool air and jumped as Malfoy materialised out of the shadows, much like the man earlier had.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Merely to congratulate you on your profound stupidity."
"Excuse me?" Hermione shot back, stung.
"You really thought you could come down Knockturn Alley and just waltz in and buy something?"
She hated how he always made her feel so small.
"Well, that's what I did, so yeah."
"Don't you remember, you also insulted me?"
Did he think she was stupid?
"Yep, that too. As I recall, you called me a house-elf only seconds before."
"That was true." He sneered, and she slapped him hard around the face.
He swore viciously, and spat at her feet. "Filthy Mudblood!"
Hermione walked hurriedly out of Knockturn Alley and bumped straight into a very concerned-looking Harry.
"Hermione! Where did you go-"
He kept talking, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her head was pounding, and she needed to lie down.
"I'm fine, Harry. I think I'm just going to go…to the bathroom…or something."
"Were you in Knockturn Alley?"
"Yes…I mean, no, of course not, excuse me-"
She got to the toilet just in time to throw up.
"Hermione dear? Are you alright? Harry said you looked unwell-"
"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley."
"Are you sure? Maybe you should go back home and take a nap."
Mrs Weasley's concerned voice echoed in the otherwise empty bathroom.
"Maybe." Hermione agreed; it would give her time to start on her new books.
Tom the barman was happy to let Hermione use his fireplace, so she flew into the Burrow, alone, ten minutes later, clutching her bag. Ginny had offered to go with her, but Hermione had refused. Whatever was wrong with her wasn't stop anyone else from having a good time.
Bill called out a greeting as she shot out of the fireplace, but she didn't answer him.
She couldn't breathe.
Hermione burst into her and Ginny's bedroom, reaching for the handle to shut the door, but her hand passed through the doorknob like it wasn't really there.
Letting out a surprised yelp, Hermione reached for it again, and thankfully she could clench her fingers around it and shut the door. Panting, she sat down heavily on her bed and tried to calm her uncontrollable breathing, leaning forward for her bag where her two purchases were.
Leaning back against the headboard, she lost herself in the gory descriptions of curses and their causes. It was only in the second chapter, named 'Curses that be not passed by father nor mother', Hermione found what she was looking for. A page titled Vivere Manes.
Hermione read the page, tears rolling off the end of her nose and splattering onto the book, smudging the old, dried ink.
Yes...a lot of mystery here. Some Draco and Hermione action!
Keep reading for more!
Muchos gracias,
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx