~ The Soul Connection ~

by

Lazaraz

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and settings belong to J.K Rowling.

Enjoy!

Prologue

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it ... I can't ... it won't work ... and unless I do it soon ... he says he'll kill me ..."

And Harry realised, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying - actually crying - tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. Malfoy wheeled round, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own ...

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand blindly.

Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backwards and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand. Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged towards Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest ... he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood.

'I need a place to hide my book ... I need a place to hide my book ... I need a place to hide my book ...' Harry thought. Three times he walked up and down in front of the stretch of blank wall. When he opened his eyes, there it was at last: the door to the Room of Requirement. Harry wrenched it open, flung himself inside and slammed it shut.

Harry hurried forwards into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. He turned right past an enormous stuffed troll, ran on a short way, took a left at the broken Vanishing Cabinet in which Montague had got lost the previous year, finally pausing beside a large cupboard which seemed to have had acid thrown at its blistered surface. He opened one of the cupboard's creaking doors: it had already been used as a hiding place for something in a cage that had long-since died; is skeleton had five legs. He stuffed the Half-blood Prince's book behind the cage and slammed the door.

Chapter 1

Hermione was absolutely sick of Draco Malfoy. It was ridiculous. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, she'd never really liked him. He was arrogant, egotistical, proud, pureblood-obsessed, Slytherin, cowardly, snide, mean and hurtful. He had disgusting, greasy slicked back blonde hair, dull cold grey eyes, and pale skin. Everything about him frustrated and revolted her. To make it worse, he seemed to hate her just as much as she hated him simply because she was a muggle-born. Add prejudiced to the list of attributes. But to top it all off, he was also intelligent. Although Hermione was the smartest witch of their age, always beating him in every test and exam, he was usually second best. In Potions he was almost just as good as her, though she blamed this on Snape for favouring Slytherin's more than everyone else. But there it was, and everyone knew it: Draco Malfoy was not stupid, he was the smartest Slytherin student at Hogwarts. His idiotic cronies Crabbe and Goyle were stupid, but he was not. And this only frustrated Hermione further. Perhaps if he was just like his cronies, saying things that he didn't fully understand or mean... she would be able to ignore him, but he wasn't like that. When he called her a mudblood he knew that it would hurt her feelings and he did it purposefully for that reason. Which, if possible, made it hurt even more.

Hermione was thinking about all of this whilst sitting in the library alone. Studying Potions, to keep ahead of the rest of the class. Mostly to keep ahead of Harry and Malfoy. They were in their sixth year and this of course meant that Harry had the 'Half-Blood Prince' textbook. He'd been getting every potion perfect for weeks on end, but that all stopped after he used the spell on Malfoy in the bathroom. After that Harry promised he'd thrown the book away, and his grades in potions deteriorated as proof of that. The fact that Malfoy was never far behind also frustrated Hermione though. Calling her a mudblood was one insult, but calling her stupid whenever he happened to beat her in a test... now that would get to her. That would get her where it hurt, right in her soft spot, and he knew this. The only things Hermione could pride herself in were her intelligence and her bravery. She wasn't pureblood and she didn't think she was beautiful. The only way she could insult Malfoy was by calling him an evil git, or insulting his inferior intelligence. Take away her intelligence and Malfoy would make her life hell. For some unknown reason it seemed like he was trying very hard to beat everyone that year. His behaviour was unusual. For one, his usually greased head of slick hair wasn't neat and tidy any more. It was ordinarily dry, blonde, ragged and untidy. He had black bags under his eyes, which meant that he wasn't sleeping much. Hermione feared that this meant he was studying more than her, which in turn caused her to study more as well. Hence the reason she was in the library right now, thinking of this and determinedly re-reading her Potions textbook.

But back to Malfoy. He wasn't hanging around with his cronies much any more either. Harry was suspicious that he was a Death Eater, which Hermione thought was ridiculous. Harry also suspected that he was up to something bad, but all of Harry's warnings were dismissed by her. Hermione had to admit though, Malfoy's behaviour was strange. Why did he look so exhausted, sometimes even worried, all of the time? Why was he overly offensive to everyone around him? He'd always been snide and rude. Now he was different though. He was much more serious. If he wanted to insult someone he didn't sneer, he looked ready to kill and he made sure that it sounded horrible. This meant that his blood-related insults had also stepped up a notch.

Who was that? Hermione had glimpsed a flash of blonde hair. She lowered her book sharply and looked up to see Draco Malfoy himself slipping past an isle in the library. His cold grey eyes were alert and moving quickly as he skimmed across the books, desperately searching for something. Hermione snorted, feeling smug. He was trying really hard to beat her in exams, it was almost sad from her point of view. He'd heard the snort and seen the smug expression.

"What are you looking at, mudblood?" came his insult, with just the right amount of hate in his words to make her cringe.

"A pathetic excuse for a wizard. I'd appreciate it if you left my library," replied Hermione in a bored voice, returning to her book as if what he'd said didn't matter to her. After six years, she was becoming an excellent actor. But after six years, the prejudiced insults somehow never failed to hurt.

"You're a mudblood, that makes you pretty much the definition of pathetic. It's not my problem that you hide here because you haven't got any friends," Malfoy continued, glaring at her from where he was searching the wall of books. Hermione slammed her book down on the table.

"I'm not hiding here, I just like the peace and quiet which you're ruining right now. Plus I have more friends than you," she hissed angrily.

"Whatever, everyone knows the library is your sanctuary," snapped Malfoy indifferently. He pulled a thick book off of a shelf, opened it and began reading it rapidly. Hermione felt herself blush.

"So what if it is? Just leave me alone," she said firmly, hiding her face behind her book again. She assumed he'd found his book a few moments later, as he let out a very quiet sigh of relief. She didn't bother looking up to see though, and instead tried to concentrate on reading.

"I wonder how many times you've read that textbook, yet you still barely beat me," Malfoy sniggered as he walked past her.

"Go away!" Hermione growled, feeling herself go red with anger. When he'd finally left the library, with an air of superiority and 'I'm-better-than-everyone', she slammed her book down on the table again. He was right. Potions was a practical subject, it didn't matter how many times she read this damn book, it wouldn't improve her skill. Potion-making was, after all, a skill. Books could only help so much. To make matters worse, he was right and he knew it. She stuffed the book into her bag and heaved it onto her back, planning to leave the library as well. Before she left however, she walked over to where he'd gotten his book from. She knew the library back to front, and this isle contained books on magical objects and artefacts. Hermione skimmed along the row of books, in the same area he'd been looking, and saw the missing spot where he'd taken his book from. She was sure that it was called 'Fixing Broken or Damaged Magical Objects'. Why on earth would he need a book like that?

Finally he found a book that could possibly help. He wasn't sure if it would have anything to do with Vanishing Cabinets though... they were, after all, dark objects. He'd probably need to steal a book from the Restricted Section if he was going to get some useful information on the subject. He didn't have much time to fix the blasted thing either. His life, and the life of his parents, lay heavily on his shoulders. He had to succeed in killing Albus Dumbledore, not because he wanted to, but because Voldemort had ordered him to. Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards in history and knowing that it was Draco's responsibility to murder his own Headmaster, well, you can imagine the kind of pressure he was feeling. As these thoughts swirled around in Draco's mind, he continued walking swiftly towards the Room of Requirement. He smirked as he realised that while Granger's sanctuary was the library, his was the Room of Requirement. It wasn't his sanctuary by choice however, he simply had to spend excessive hours inside slaving over the broken cabinet and scheming new ways to kill Dumbledore.

Why was he trying to fix the cabinet? There are two Vanishing Cabinets, one in the Room of Requirement in Hogwarts, and one in the dark wizard shop, Borgin and Burkes. When they're both working a passageway is created between the two. The cabinet in the Room of Requirement is broken, while the one at Borgin and Burkes still works. Thus if Draco failed to kill Dumbledore alone, he could fix the broken cabinet which would open the passageway and allow Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts without anybody noticing. It was a genius plan, but so far he'd had no luck whatsoever in fixing the cabinet.

As he walked, Draco remembered his mother before he'd gotten on the train for his sixth year which felt like ages ago, and how she was openly crying as she held him. It was obvious that she thought he would fail, she was crying because she thought she'd never see him again. Thanks for the confidence boost, mother, Draco thought to himself bitterly as he arrived on the seventh floor. He walked past the wall where the Room of Requirement was hidden, thinking over and over, I need to enter the place where all things are hidden. The wall morphed into a door, which he pushed open and closed behind himself. Inside lay mountains of junk objects that had been hidden by Hogwarts students over the years. He followed a path through the rubbish into the centre of the giant room, to where his cabinet was standing with a dusty old white cover on it. He tore off the cover and stared in loathing at the great wooden thing that had already consumed so much of his thought and time, before sitting on the ground and opening the book, 'Fixing Broken or Damaged Magical Objects.'

Within just five minutes of trying to read it, he slammed it closed. It was pointless, he had absolutely no idea what to look for. Plus he could barely even concentrate on reading, his mind was a mess. In a sudden flash of anger he threw the book at an old cupboard near the broken cabinet, causing it to make a loud thud! sound as it landed on the floor. As he calmed down, he came to the realisation that he would need Borgin's help to fix it. The sly man couldn't be trusted that was for sure, but he was the most knowledgeable person when it came to dark magical objects and he knew more about the Cabinets than anyone else in the wizarding world. Draco sighed as he stood up, deciding to get the book he'd thrown and go to the Owlery. He walked through the piles of junk towards the dusty cupboard, kicking things out of his way impatiently, until he bent over and picked the book up. As he stood, he noticed the cupboard had doors which were closed, and he opened them curiously. Inside was a strange cage with a skeleton inside, and behind that, a book. Draco raised an eyebrow as he reached in and removed the dusty volume, reading the front cover aloud, "Advanced Potion-Making?"

He inspected it further and turned it over, wondering why on earth another student would hide their sixth year Potions textbook inside a cupboard in the middle of the Room of Requirement, and saw an untidy scrawl along the bottom of the back cover of the book, 'This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince.' He shoved both books into his bag, deciding to investigate it further in the hopes that it would have something his own textbook didn't. After all, attempting to beat Granger in Potions and watching her turn into an emotional wreck was about the most entertainment he had, given the circumstances. He headed for the Owlery, thinking about what he'd write to Borgin and considering sending a letter to his mother, who had been worried sick all year about what he was trying to do.

Later that day Hermione checked her watch and realised that it was nearly dinner time, and she picked up the pace slightly as she leapt up the stairs towards the Owlery. She wondered if it was childish to still be sending weekly letters to her parents as she had been doing ever since her first year. But given the circumstances and the return of Voldemort, she thought it was necessary to keep her parents up to date on everything. By the time she arrived at the top floor of Hogwart's West Tower where the Owlery was located, she was completely out of breath and red in the cheeks.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves, mudblood?" came Malfoy's arrogant remark, causing her to jump in fright.

"Gosh, what the hell are you doing up here!" snapped Hermione, as she turned and saw the Slytherin sitting beside one of the open windows with two letters in his lap, and his quill in hand.

"Sending letters to my magical relatives, you know, because they communicate by owl, which is what magical folk do," Malfoy drawled, knowing it would annoy her.

"My relatives know how to communicate by owl," said Hermione, gritting her teeth in frustration.

"Whatever mudblood. Do you mind? I'm trying to write."

"You should have written them somewhere else then, like I don't know, maybe in the library?" said Hermione sarcastically.

"Bookworms and losers write in the library, mudblood. I'd rather not taint my reputation and lower myself to your level," Malfoy answered as he scribbled on one of the parchments in his lap. The other parchment fell to the ground and was suddenly taken by the wind and flown out the open window right beside his blonde head. Hermione burst out laughing at his shocked expression, as he scrambled to his feet and struggled to pull his wand out. He glared at her, his expression like venom before he pointed his wand out the window at the drifting parchment.

"Shut up mudblood! Wingardium leviosah! Wingardium leviosah! FUCK!" Malfoy swore on the top of his lungs, putting his foot against the window sill and leaning out of it to get better aim. A gust of wind came but he easily held onto the window frame with his other hand. Hermione realised that whatever was on the parchment must have been important, and personal, because the boy looked genuinely panicked. She sighed and pulled her wand out, moving towards the window.

"Move, I'll get it."

"Now's not the time for your pretentious shit, mudblood," Malfoy growled.

"Stop calling me a mudblood, I'm not being pretentious! I'm trying to help you even though you don't deserve it!" said Hermione angrily. Malfoy looked back at her from where he was leaning out of the window in surprise, and looked back at the parchment which was floating more and more towards the ground. He moved out of the way, glaring at her.

"Fine. Don't you dare miss it or you'll wish you never tried to help," he hissed as Hermione gingerly stepped onto the window sill where he had been and leaned out to see where the parchment was. She pointed her wand at the parchment and held on, but felt her stomach doing somersaults at how high up she was. Beyond the parchment, she had a birds-eye view of many Hogwarts buildings, the courtyard, and off into the distance, vast green hills. The air was chilly and not far above her head were clouds. She'd always had an irrational fear of heights.

"Wingardium leviosa!" she said, with perfect pronunciation and flick of the wrist despite her nervousness. The parchment was caught by the spell and she began to pull it up with ease, and Malfoy put his head under her arm to watch. As he did so, another gust of wind came and Hermione felt herself lose her balance, being too concentrated on holding the spell to keep the parchment rising. Her foot slipped slightly and before she could even scream, strong hands had grabbed her hips roughly and held her still.

"Oh god!"

"Merlin mudblood, you might have brains but you don't have coordination," said Malfoy in amusement.

"Just be quiet and don't let me fall," Hermione stammered, as the parchment slowly but surely rose to them. Within a few moments of being uncomfortably close, the parchment finally reached them and Hermione grabbed it with her wand hand. Her entire body was shaking from adrenaline, and she didn't dare move as the wind kept threatening to throw her out.

"Step down and give me the parchment."

"I can't," Hermione said shakily, and Malfoy rolled his eyes as he lifted her off the window sill and dropped her safely on the floor of the Owlery, before snatching the parchment out of her hand.

"You owe me for saving your life, and don't tell anyone what just happened," Malfoy said nonchalantly as he sat back down where he was, smirking as he watched the shaking Gryffindor girl take deep breaths with her eyes closed to calm down. Within moments she opened them and glared at him.

"You owe me for risking my life to save your stupid letter, you inconsiderate prick!" came her furious retort. In different circumstances Malfoy would have laughed at how angry she was, but he had to defend his ego.

"I don't care mudblood. No matter how many good little deeds you do, I still won't care. Send your letter and leave me alone," he said, looking into her eyes coldly. She shook her head in fury and walked over to where Harry's snowy owl was and began tying a written letter to its leg.

"I hate you, it's no wonder you're hiding up here to write your letters, you're not wanted anywhere else," said Hermione with as much contempt as she could muster, after she'd sent Hedwig out of the window.

"Says the muggle-born who is unwanted by the entire wizarding world, did I mention I don't fucking care what you or anyone else thinks? Go have dinner with your idiot friends," Malfoy snapped back angrily.

"At least I have friends," were Hermione's last words before she left him alone in the Owlery.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please feel free to review and add to alerts/favourites! :)

Check out my other stories!

Draco and Hermione - s/5661111/1/Draco-and-Hermione

The Soul Connection - s/9868543/1/The-Soul-Connection

The Time-Turner Division - s/12337018/1/The-Time-Turner-Division