Chapter 1

Hermione awoke with a gasp in the confines of her four-poster bed at Hogwarts, a cold sweat covering her body. The dank chill in the Slytherin rooms didn't help her stop shaking, and she knew that if she looked down at her hands they would be trembling like leaves in a winter gale. With a shaky breath, she brushed her hair back from her sweat-covered face, and tried desperately to regulate her breathing again.

Nightmares had become common for Hermione, her mind conjuring awful images of those she loved most dead at her feet, blood covering her palms, the Dark Lord standing up high looking down at her with cold apathy that she was completely familiar with. Indeed, Hermione Granger was fully aware of how Voldemort functioned.

Being a Slytherin, Hermione was naturally clever and cunning, but not enough to extricate herself out of the desperate and delicate situation she had somehow found her way into. It was really no surprise, she often found herself thinking, given her heritage and her intelligence, that Voldemort had sought her out to immediately blackmail her after his embarrassment with the Malfoy fiasco all those years ago.

Despite this, she tried as hard as she could to push the thoughts to the back of her mind so she could re-establish her control over her composure. She refused to stick her head out of her curtains looking pale and washed out and sweaty, as she knew she did. Snatching her wand from her side where she kept it as she slept (a habit she could not break after the night where someone once woke her with a bucket of freezing water), she hastily fixed up her hair and pallor. It was time to face the day, and, as always, she would have to do it with a mask on.

She rose from the bed, swishing back the green curtains to find Ginny already gone from her bed. It was either that, or she had never returned to it the night before – Hermione, being the intuitive person she was, had noticed Ginny's absences and made a connection to a Gryffindor boy, though who it was, she could not say. They were obviously keeping it down low, and Hermione felt no need to nose her way into the problem what with all her own problems jumping out at her all the time.

She padded on bare feet over the smooth stone to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and splashed her face with ice water to wake up. Nightmares did unfortunately have the effect of making her feel drained the next day, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. Mentally, she went over what needed to be done during the day:

I need to give my Arithmancy assignment to Sinistra, get my Transfiguration paper to McGonagall, make a call to the Dark Lord to inform him that no news has come in regards to Harry or the Malfoys…

That last part was not entirely true, and she feared what punishment she could receive if she were found out to be lying. However, she was aware of the fact that there was actually no major news, per se, about either of those to parties. Sure, Draco had recently returned from Paris after a trip with his parents, more defiant and upstanding than ever in his Gryffindor King title. Harry, her best friend and co-Slytherin house mate, had definitely been doing some digging into the mysterious death of his parent's, but there was nothing to worry about there. If he had found something, she would more than likely be the first to know.

She worried about Harry constantly, and what would happen when eventually he did find out the truth about his parent's death. Voldemort had done an outstanding job maintaining the lie that Sirius had killed both his parents, and Voldemort and Snape had taken Harry in as a kindness (though how anyone could possibly believe the Dark Lord had a shred of kindness in his heart, she did not know). Hermione and Snape, as far as she was concerned, were the only ones who knew the true nature of Lily and James Potter's deaths.

Her stomach rolled at the thought, and she shook herself in order to get rid of the thoughts that were rising to the surface. Secret upon secret upon secret. That was what her life had become. She was beginning to wonder how much longer it would take for her to break, to either give Harry the information he needed or to fold completely to Voldemort's will and tell him everything he needed on the Malfoy's so he could blackmail them as well and get them into his circle.

She thought back to all those years ago, when she had just entered the Wizarding world, when the Malfoy's had denied Voldemort in order to protect their son from the touch of the twisted mind that was the Dark Lord. It had led to Voldemort going into hiding, something the world hadn't seen coming. Hermione had assumed at the time that it was only a matter of patience and a few strategic connections before the Dark Lord would return. She had been right, but she hadn't expected the Dark Lord to turn to her, with the threat of murdering her Muggle parents on his tongue. How could she have said no? She had no choice but to obey, to keep her defenseless and blissfully ignorant parents safe in their Muggle world.

Hermione sighed, noting briefly how thin she had gotten as pressure with both school and her duties to Voldemort had gotten heavier. Nonetheless, she knew she must endure.

Returning to her bed, she yanked on her uniform, perfectly tying her green Slytherin tie. She grabbed her Potions books and headed into the common room, where she knew Harry and Ron would be waiting for her.

"About time you got out of bed," commented Ron, smirking slightly at her. His red hair stood out starkly against the green setting of the common room.

"Give her a break, have you see how hard she's been working herself?" Harry, quick to her defense as always. It made her heart twinge with guilt at the thought of turning over information on his daily routine to the Dark Lord.

"I was finishing the Transfiguration assignment," she commented as they headed out of the portrait door and towards the Potions rooms. "It required more research than I had thought. I needed at least ten good sources for the paper, rather than five."

Ron's eyebrows shot into the sky. "Ten? I only have two! Ah, well. I gave up on being as smart as you in second grade."

Hermione grinned. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the Potions rooms, their footsteps echoing off the walls in the magnificent hallways that dominated Hogwarts. When they finally arrived, Hermione noted that a pair of silver-grey eyes was yet again following her to her seat in the second row. She ignored it, as she always did, putting it down to Draco being jealous of the fact that she had beat him in everything and always maintained her number one place in Hogwarts.

"Silence all," murmured Professor Snape. "Let us begin."

Draco sat at the back of the class with Blaise Zabini, his eyes following the tousle of honeyed curls as she seated herself in the second row. As predictable as ever, he thought absently to himself.

"Stop staring at her, Draco. Chances are she can feel your eyes burning into the back of her head." Blaise chuckled, twirling his quill in his hand.

Draco scowled at his friend. "You know I can't help it. It's just her, Blaise. She's it for me. We've had this conversation." He slumped in his seat. "It's exhausting, you know. Having all these feelings and God knows what."

Blaise nodded and raised his dark eyes to the front of the classroom as Snape walked in through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Today I will be assigning groups for the assignment that is due in precisely two weeks time. You are expected to analyze and illustrate the uses of powdered unicorn horn in various potions. I expect at least three examples. Understood?"

The class nodded their understanding, and Snape's eyes scanned across the room, hesitating on the golden boy, Harry Potter.

Draco snarled. Harry bloody Potter. Ever since they had started at Hogwarts, right from the moment he was sorted into Slytherin, Potter had been nothing but an irritation to Draco. They always turned heads with their fierce competition in the Quidditch matches, but the one thing Draco prided himself on was the fact that his grades were far superior to Potter's. He did, however, envy Potter for his continuously close proximity to Hermione. No doubt they would be partnered together on the basis that Snape never allowed Harry to fail his class.

"Malfoy, are you paying attention?" Snape called.

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Now, pay attention. The list is up on the board. Please move yourselves with expediency to sit next to your assigned partner." Snape waved his wand and the list appeared.

When Draco found his name, his jaw dropped and he felt Blaise nudge him. No way was this happening.

Hermione brought her tired eyes to the board in front of her and her brows creased in confusion. I'm partnered with Malfoy? She took a brief look at Snape and caught his pensive eyes resting on her. She glanced down at her books as she gathered them together to move to the back of the class.

"What the hell? Ron and I are going to fail without your help, Hermione!" Harry pouted at her, his green eyes shining behind his glasses. His tie made them even brighter than usual. The two boys were, of course, partnered together. Snape made no secret of his favoritism.

She shrugged. "Teacher's orders. Not much I can do, boys." Nonetheless, she shot them a look that subtly said she would help them regardless.

As she stood, she noticed Malfoy's piercing silver-grey eyes on her face. Her breath left her in a huff and she found herself standing dumbly in the middle of the class, unmoving, simply because she had never noticed how dazzling they were until now.

"Miss Granger, have you misplaced your over-sized brain? Sit down, please," Snape murmured behind her.

Without turning, she hurriedly made her way to the seat Blaise had previously been occupying. A blush had spread over her cheeks as she set her books down on the table, accidentally bumping elbows with Draco. She saw him clench his hand into a fist. He thinks of me as nothing more than a filthy Slytherin. Her Slytherin pride kicked in and she immediately sat up straighter, narrowing her sight onto Snape as he began outlining their lecture for the day. She was better than him, and she knew it. She was on the Dark Lord's right hand side, and though she did not want to be voluntarily, it did place her in a position of power. Besides, she needed more information on the Malfoy's, and this was the perfect opportunity. She would milk this for all its worth, as long as it saved her parents.

Draco clenched his hand into a fist at the brush of her elbow against his arm. Her scent – cinnamon and dark chocolate, he thought – engulfed him and he felt his pulse skyrocket. God, she's so close. He knew he could reach out and touch those caramel curls, but she was focused solely on Snape, taking notes in neat cursive writing.

His own page was blank, but that was fine. He could hear all that Snape was saying and it was ingrained on his mind, along with the scent of the woman sitting next to him.

The entire class, he did not write a single word, and yet he knew all that had been said – about the properties and uses of the wolfsbane potion. He could easily recall it and write it down later. His memory was something he prided himself on, and it had gotten him nearly to the top of the school's honors list – nearly. Granger had maintained a number one placement for their year level since her first year at Hogwarts. At first, when he had met her when they were eleven, he had thought her a snobby Slytherin, intelligent and devious in equal measure. However, he had seen her and the others grow throughout the years.

Potter was a twat, but there was the mystery of his parent's death and his close relationship with Snape that made Draco wonder whether there was more there. On occasion, he would see Potter's green eyes turn dark with anger and barely concealed rage. At those times, only his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw called Luna Lovegood, could talk to him and make him return to his usual self. Draco often wondered if it had anything to do with Voldemort; he knew the Dark Lord's connection to Snape, and wondered if that had anything to do with Potter.

Weasley was a good keeper, but he a dimwitted. Despite this, his loyalty to his friends was unquestionable, and he loved them without holding back. It was something not often seen in Slytherin relationships – they were often only friends with people for power or the nature of their position. The famed Emerald Trio was different.

And then there was Granger; the beautiful Hermione, whom Draco had followed with his eyes for all his years at Hogwarts. He had hated her, and then he had grown to love her. He had watched her get thinner and frailer over the past few weeks, something he was deeply concerned about. He knew she was consistently worrying – she always bit her lip when she was anxious about anything, and recently it was bleeding more and more often from constant chewing. He had watched her become more distant and colder, yet seemingly more determined. To do what? He did not know, and he probably never would. Nonetheless, he watched, and he fretted for her. And yet, he could not say a thing. If he did, the nature of his feelings would be revealed to her. Was he brave enough to do it? Soon, he thought to himself. Soon, she can know.

At the end of the lesson, Hermione hastily packed up and was about to rush out of the room when Draco spoke.

"Granger, can I have a word? Just about the assignment." His voice was deep and dark, a contrast to his noticeably light appearance.

She turned and met his silver eyes. "Yes?"

Draco ruffled his hair and then pushed it out of his eyes. "Um… Do you want to meet in the library tomorrow evening to get started? I know a few decent books that we could take a look at."

She nodded, her mind elsewhere – she needed to report to the Dark Lord. "Of course. I'll meet you there after dinner."

Before Draco could nod, she had turned and sprinted out of the dungeons, racing to the Slytherin common room and the safety of her bed. Harry and Ron tried to wave her down in the common room, but she tossed an excuse of needing to finish reading an Arithmancy chapter and shouldered her way into her room, closing the door behind her.

She closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath, thankful for being alone in the dorm for the moment. Hurriedly, she cast a locking charm on the door and a silencing spell. Dumping her books on her side table, she ducked over to the fire. She had made sure it went unchecked by Dumbledore; casting a concealment charm so powerful she'd even surprised herself. She supposed that was how desperate she was – she needed to keep her parents alive.

Hermione waved her wand to connect with the fireplace she knew was in Voldemort's study in the Riddle mansion, and stuck her head through. Before her stood the imperious figure of the Dark Lord, his arms behind his back and his cold red eyes staring down at her.

"What news about Harry and the Malfoy's?" he hissed in that high, cold voice that haunted her nightmares.

"No news on Harry, my Lord. He is focused on school only. However, there has been a development with the Malfoy's. Snape has partnered Draco and I together for a Potions assignment," Hermione said, trying her hardest to keep her voice steady and not show him weakness.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow and smiled a malicious smile. "Snape is clever. Good. Use this to get more information on the family. I need not remind you of the price you will pay if you fail me, Hermione."

She nodded, her mouth set in a firm line. She withdrew from the fireplace and breathed in the cool air of the dungeons.

It was a good two minutes before she registered the fact that someone was banging on the bedroom door, and she waved her wand, silently removing the two spells she had placed previously.

Ginny Weasley walked in, her long red hair swung over one shoulder. "What were you doing?" she asked innocently.

"Just calling my mother and father," she answered casually, standing from the fire. "Where were you last night? You didn't come back to the dorm."

Ginny blushed furiously, her face nearly as red as her hair. "I was… I just… It's…" she sputtered, tripping over her words before finally blurting out a sentence in a massive jumble: "I-was-up-in-Gryffindor-tower-with-Blaise."

Hermione stood there for a moment, her mind blank. Yet another secret to keep, was all she could think. "I had a feeling you were with a Gryffindor boy. But Blaise? Ginny, you know you can't associate with him. Your family are in too precarious a position. If anyone found out… If it got back to the Dark Lord…" Hermione need say no more; Ginny had paled noticeably.

Her red-headed friend sat down on her bed and buried her head in her hands, letting out a hopeless moan. "I know, Hermione. But I am completely in love with him." Ginny looked up, desperation on her face and tears in her eyes. "You can tell no one. I'm begging you, just look the other way."

Hermione knelt in front of her friend, straightening the other girl's tie. "I won't tell a soul, Gin. You know I won't. Just be careful, all right? If Ron found out, he would kill both of us for putting the family at risk."

The Weasley family was indeed in a precarious situation – Ron had told Hermione and Harry only, and no one else in the school was aware. His family had been forced to accept a deal with Voldemort, lest the Weasley's would like to see all their children dead before their feet. It was the ultimate threat to Molly and Arthur, and they'd had no choice but to accept. The deal was that, in time, they had to find a way to turn over the Malfoy's to Voldemort. Hermione had been so tempted to reveal the nature of her own task to her friends, but she knew the dangers involved in sharing secrets, and so she had stilled her tongue.

In addition to this, Harry had revealed his past with Voldemort and Snape to herself and Ronald, as well as Luna, his loving girlfriend. He had thought for the first twelve years of his life that Sirius Black had killed his parents and himself in a massive explosion that had torn apart their home in Godric's Hollow. However, in their second year at Hogwarts, the trio had uncovered something disturbing – a secret file from Voldemort's vaults that Harry had snuck through on a whim, wanting to see if there was more information on Sirius. He had discovered the post-mortem report on his parents, and had found that both had been struck down with the Killing Curse, not the explosion itself. Since then, he had been doing some subtle digging in addition to his tasks for his surrogate family of Voldemort and Snape, something that not many people knew. Voldemort had brought him up with the idea of getting him to infiltrate the Ministry, and Harry had been all too happy to do this in order to avenge his parents somehow, until he had discovered the post-mortems. He was torn. Hermione had again had to hold her tongue, and not reveal her own tasks the Dark Lord had set her.

There was a reason the Emerald Trio had ended up in Slytherin: they were fabulous liars, able to warp the truth, and they were all determined to survive. It appeared that, when they were sorted, the Sorting Hat had seen these features and deemed them a part of the green and silver House. On occasion, Hermione wondered if she would be better off in Ravenclaw, but she always remembered her position with Voldemort and knew her home was with the Slytherins. How could she be anywhere else?

Hermione came back to the present, where she was absently brushing tears from Ginny's face. "It will be okay. Trust me," she was saying. Oh, if only that were true, she thought to herself, Harry's face and Draco's silver eyes flashing through her mind. If only that were true.