1Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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The envelope was back.

Hermione stared at the crisp parchment and black script lit only by the dying embers in the fireplace. Her brown eyes studied the package carefully from the large armchair across from the mahogany table. It had been two weeks since she had disposed of the exact envelope in the waste bin. She couldn't be sure of course that this was the same one as before, but she could recognize the elegant handwriting on the front easy enough.

Upon her return from the library, Hermione hadn't noticed it until she unloaded her text books for some light reading before turning in. That was two hours ago and she had yet to move from her spot in the chair. 'This is ridiculous Hermione' she scolded herself. 'It's not going to perform any tricks anytime soon.' She sighed and shook her head before releasing her hair from the elastic at the nape of her neck and letting it frame her face in casual disarray.

For two hours she had studied that parchment, wondering where, and who, it could have come from. If indeed this was the same package from two weeks ago it meant that someone had dug through her waste bin and found it, or it was charmed to return to her if unopened. The handwriting was still unknown to her which left her to pick random suspects from the top of her head. 'Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini' she counted. Of course, they were only suspects if the envelope contained malicious content. Out of the three, only Malfoy had access to their common room, but house elves and owls delivered the mail and Hermione couldn't possibly track down who had placed the package there.

She sighed again and stood, brushing the dirt off her robes, and began to head off to her room fully intending to, once more, ignore the mysterious parchment. 'A good night's sleep is what you need now' she told herself 'In the morning you can dispose of it and talk to the house elves about not returning it.' She trudged up the stairs leading to the bedrooms but paused on the fifth stair to glance back at the glowing parchment, the ink from her name still visible in the light. She frowned "Oh for Merlin's sake Hermione it's a bloody envelope," her robes swirled as she stomped back to the table and snatched the parchment up, tucking it under her arm and heading up to bed before she could change her mind.

She made no effort to close her door softly, Malfoy was in the dungeons with his house doing Merlin knows what and for that little fact she was thankful. She could already hear the snide comments about her ridiculous paranoid reaction to the simple package in her lap.

"Aww, ickle Mudblood afraid of a letter?" she could see is sneer and feel his laugh slide up her spine. Hermione shuddered in repulse and stood quickly to escape the cold tingle of his voice. She stripped off her uniform, opting for a pair of soft flannel pajamas, before sliding into bed. Her gaze was transfixed once more by the seemingly harmless letter resting at her feet.

"You're being totally and completely ridiculous Hermione Granger. It's a letter for Merlin's sake." Her fingers wrapped around the coarse edge and slid the object in question towards her."Just open it, honestly what harm could it do?"

Silence greeted her question and Hermione swallowed, in these times a letter could contain just about anything.. Her fingers trembled as they hooked into the back flap and slowly slid it open. Her breath became shallow as she pulled out the paper within the parchment. It was blank.

Her brows furrowed and her mouth puckered into a scowl. Of all the rotten underhanded things to do. This had Malfoy written all over it. He was probably down in the snake den with a glass of Firewhisky in one hand, with all of his slimy companions gathered around laughing at her expense. Whit hot tears filled her eyes and she swiped them away before throwing the "letter" across the room. She felt, for lack of a better term, used but couldn't understand why. Surely, compared to past experiences, this was nothing. Malfoy had tortured her in far worse ways, so why did she feel so hurt?

Hermione wiped at her eyes furiously before grabbing her wand and turning to burn the papers when streaks of grey caught her eye. Blinking, Hermione rose from the bed, her wand still at the ready, and knelt down to grab the blank letter.

It was smudged with different shades of black and grey and Hermione squinted to make out what was on it. "Lumos" she muttered and held the tip of her wand out to examine the blur. Chocolate eyes widened as her rosebud mouth dropped in complete shock. The "letter" was in fact a drawing, shaded beautifully and extremely lifelike.

It was of her.

Hermione fell to the floor, her knees trembling too much to keep standing, and stared. The drawing was undoubtedly her, layed out on a couch in a beautiful low cut gown that draped to the floor. Her hair was in a messy disarray around her face and a shy, yet seductive, smile lit her face. It took a moment for Hermione to realize she had stopped breathing, and quickly let the cool night air caress her burning lungs. Now more than ever the question of "who" plagued her mind. Who sent the drawing? Who drew it? And who got close enough to study her so closely?

Flattery caused the blush that met her face and neck, embarrassment made it stretch to her breasts, and curiosity made her legs carry her back towards her bed to examine the drawing closer. Whoever had drawn it had unmistakable talent, the wild curls of her hair were drawn with such accuracy that she was sure the artist knew her personally, or at least had been stalking her for the past several months.

The cold slimy feeling was back as she pictured some obsessed hormonal teenager following her in the shadows of Hogwarts. She shuddered and went back to studying the picture. No, whoever had drawn this clearly had nothing but good intentions. She flipped the drawing over multiple times looking for a signature or a note, but found nothing.

Groaning at the knowledge she would not be getting a good nights sleep Hermione slipped into her housecoat, grabbed a book and the drawing and proceeded back down the stairs. Her footsteps froze halfway down when she noticed a mop of platinum above the armchair she had occupied previously.

She was wrong, the cold slimy feeling wasn't from the possibility of a stalker, it was because Malfoy had returned from his activities. She turned and started heading back towards her room.

"Thought you Gryffindors weren't supposed to be scared of anything" she froze and turned back around to meet his piercing silver eyes and arrogant smirk. "Or turn your back on your enemies"

"For your information Malfoy I am not scared, nor turning my back on you. I simply have no interest to sit here and listen to you insult me or mutter on about your escapades in the dungeons" Malfoy's smirk widened and he licked his lips.

"What? Upset that no one invited you to your own house party?" Hermione's brow furrowed.

"What are you talking about? Ron and Harry are at Hogsmeade with Lavender and Luna" Malfoy scoffed.

"Really Granger, you buy that load of shit they feed you? Yes they're at Hogsmeade with Brown and Loony, and everyone else in their house celebrating your precious Order's latest victory in discovering another Horcrux" Hermion paled.

"H-how did you-?" He scoffed again.

"You might want to think about sewing Weasel's mouth shut if you intend to keep what your precious Order does a secret. He's been blabbing to anyone who will give him the time of day all about how he's helping Harry-Chosen-One Potter in killing the Dark Lord." Hermione was gripping the railing now to prevent herself from falling to her knees. Malfoy continued.

"I bet they didn't even discover this one by themselves, did they Granger?" His piercing eyes locked with hers. "Yet they didn't even consider asking the one who had to their, festivities." he clicked his tongue and shook his head mockingly before standing and making his way towards the frightened lioness on the stairs. "Why do you help them, if all you get in return is their unfailing ignorance and ungratefulness?" He then continued up the stairs and disappeared into his own room.

Hermione slid down on the stairs, her legs no longer able to support her. Malfoy was a Death Eater, of that she was certain, although the Dark Mark hadn't touched his flesh yet, she knew he was devoted to Voldemort and everything he stood for. And he knew everything they knew about the latest Horcrux because of Ron's arrogance. Suddenly, fury ran through her veins. Not only had her house mates completely ignored the fact that she had discovered the Horcrux and had not even included her in their celebrations, but now Voldemort undoubtedly knew that they were searching for it because of Ronald's big fat mouth.

Her legs projected her towards her room, her hands grabbed her wand and robes, and her heart pounded in her ears as she ran out of the room, through the corridors, and down the long winding path to Hogsmeade.

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The amber of the Firewhisky clashed with his deep silver irises as it swirled in the glass. He heard her scramble to her room, heard the chair topple over as she yanked her robes on, and heard the common room door slam shut as she raced out to Hogsmeade.

A smirk spread on his face and a chuckle escaped his parted lips. Weasel really didn't know when to keep his ego to himself. Draco couldn't fathom why the blood traitor didn't just charm his robes to display all of the Order's information. Not like it would make finding everything out easier, the Weasel took care of that alone.

The Dark Lord would be quite pleased when Draco reported to him later on in the week. Not only about the information pertaining to the Horcrux, but also to Granger's knowledge that perhaps her house wasn't as loyal as their calling card made them out to be. Her intelligence was wasted on the pathetic egotistical people she called comrades.

Draco stood and paced around the room a few times before his feet led him next door to the Head Girl's chambers. Her door had been left open in her haste and his eyes caught the scattered paper on the floor. He raised a platinum brow at the disorder that was so unlike Granger and stepped into her room kneeling down and lifting the paper to his gaze.

Silver eyes widened before a wicked grin lit his face and a mirroring chuckle escaped his lips. He stood and sipped the Firewhisky, letting it burn his throat and warm his blood as his eyes roamed over the sketch. So, Granger had decided to open it after all. 'I suppose curiosity killed the lioness also.' Draco placed the drawing on her bedside table before returning to his room. The smirk never left his face, for Draco had seen what Hermione had missed in the sketch.

The snake, curled around her wrist.

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