Disclaimer: All characters (so far) and trademark names (Hogwarts, etc) belong to J.K.R., but the plot is solely mine.

A/N: Hi! After a two-year long hiatus in fic writing, and a renewed interest in HP after re-reading HBP and anticipating the new movie, I've decided to come up with a new fic with a brand new storyline, but featuring the same pairing of Draco and Hermione. Hope you guys enjoy it, again, I stress that I prefer drama and action rather than lemony stuff, so that's what you guys are gonna be reading, but I still promise a lot of tangy D/H flavour, enough to satisfy D/H fans!

Draco Malfoy made his way to the front of the Hogwarts Express, his mouth set in a thin, straight, line. His eyes were void of expression, as he strode down the corridors, slamming any cabin doors that were in his way, ignoring the cries of indignance or pain. Many a head popped out, cursing, hoping to hex the insufferable prat, but when they saw the hint of a silvery-blond mop, they hurriedly retreated back into the cabin. With the mounting whispers around, Draco quickened his pace, shoving aside a couple of frightened first-years, and then there was a door right in his path, and his wand was ready to flick it shut, when a ginger-haired head came popping out.

"Hey, where'd you think... oh blimey bastard, it's..."

SLAM!

"OWWWW!"

Draco completely ignored that howl, and a few cabins down, he wrenched open the door to see a sober-looking Pansy Parkinson, and Crabbe and Goyle, who looked as white as the snow falling outside in thick sheets, trembling.

"I won't get so mad as to cast hexes on you idiots." Draco sneered, as he slammed the door behind him and took his place beside Pansy, who shot him a rather icy look. "And you neither."

"I wouldn't be in the least afraid," replied Pansy, coldly, turning her gaze towards the window, watching the snow crystallise into flakes for one second before they were blown away by the cold wind. "You'd know better."

Draco was about to say something nasty, when the door opened to reveal the friendly face of a rather overgrown elf. "Sirs, Ma'am, would you like..."

WHAM!

Draco's foot retracted from the door, and he glowered at the table in front of him. Crabbe and Goyle stole one glance at him, and then sank further into their seats, shaking even more. Pansy merely continued gazing out of the window, and there they remained, silent, for the entire train journey.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn that ferret!" howled Ron, as he tumbled backwards into the cabin, alarming Harry and Hermione, who immediately leapt out of their seats to catch him from hitting the table. "You'd think that he'd might become a little more civil with that lack of evil influence in the house!"

"On the contrary," remarked Hermione, rolling her eyes as she helped Harry lift Ron back up onto the seat, with the ginger-head rubbing his head ruefully. "He's probably filled with hatred more than ever. He's probably out to get everyone this term to vent his anger upon them."

"They said he's going to become a Death Eater," said Harry, frowning, as he opened the Daily Prophet, the photo of Lucius Malfoy in his most menacing pose gracing the front cover. The headlines were stark and blunt, as they danced in front of Hermione's eyes. She grabbed the paper from Harry and slammed it down on the table, startling Harry and Ron.

"You know that the Daily Prophet won't say anything decent," said Hermione, pointedly, aiming her wand at the newspaper and transforming it into a paper crane. "Why would Malfoy want to become the servant of the man who just murdered his father? Given his current skills against the Dark Lord, I think Malfoy's smart enough to know that he doesn't stand a single chance."

"Then maybe he thinks that he needs to carry on his father's legacy and help to finish what his father didn't." Ron snorted, nursing the bump on his head. "One of a kind, they are!"

"That wouldn't be impossible," said Harry. "But I think even if Malfoy didn't want to, he doesn't really have a choice, does he? When Voldemort wants something, he gets it. And because Malfoy's smart enough to know he doesn't stand a chance, he can't ignore Voldemort's orders and risk death. Not when he's known to love his mother so much, he can't possibly leave her behind."

He now gazed out of the frosted window while Hermione and Ron contemplated those words. "By the way, this snow is really getting out of hand. Who ever heard of snow in summer!"

"Rufus Scrimgeour says it's Dumbledore's doing." Hermione shrugged as she leant back against the cushioned seat. "Why do the Ministers of Magic always turn out to be such stupid frogs?"

"I could imagine him as a crazy lion, not so much a frog." Harry laughed. "That man has been after me trying to find out Dumbledore's agenda. Can you believe it? Agenda?"

"He's got one himself all right!" Ron muttered.

"Anyway, it's probably You-Know-Who's doing," mused Hermione, leaning against the window and feeling the cold surge through her skin. "He's getting more powerful than ever, getting more distrustful than ever, getting more cold-blooded than ever. If not, he wouldn't have murdered one of his closest aides."

"Do you know what Lucius Malfoy was supposed to carry out that he didn't succeed with? Maybe that'll give us a clue to what Voldemort wants at this point in time," said Harry, sitting up and staring at Hermione, who threw her hands up in exasperation. "Like I would know!"

"I'm going to ask Dumbledore about this." Harry was starting to become eager. "And – and I just thought of something!"

The sudden burst of emotion on Harry's face was indescribable, except that Ron almost imagined a halo floating above his head. "Yes mate, go on."

Harry lowered his voice. "Hermione, you're doing patrol duty with Malfoy this summer, aren't you?"

Hermione was startled. "Y-yes, it's not like you didn't know, you were the most livid about it 'cos you thought he might..."

"Well, I just thought maybe you could try to – make friends with him."

Hermione stared at him in utmost disgust. "What?" Ron's eyes bulged.

"Well you see..." Harry cleared his throat. "If you tried to be a bit more civil and understanding towards him, he might find that you aren't one of those people trying to suck up to him now that he's feeling empty about his father's death and all that...and maybe you could somehow find out from him the going-ons of Voldemort."

"But I mean... friends..." Hermione was recoiling at an image of Draco Malfoy and her smiling at each other. "My goodness."

"It's not easy," admitted Harry. "I'd love to punch and hex him every moment that I see him. But..." He paused and chewed his lip. "I'm really running out of patience with Voldemort. He always seems to sneak off somewhere and continue to build up his power, whereas all I can do is to sit at Privet Drive and now the Burrow, and wait till I can come to school so that I can find out something more about him and do something about it! I don't want to wait till like after half the year's gone and suddenly stumble upon another chamber or a mysterious prisoner..." He trailed off, his eyes glazing over.

"Harry, this is ridiculous," interjected Ron, as Hermione looked at her fingers on her lap. "I know you want to avenge your parents, you want to avenge Sirius, but you're putting Hermione in a lot of risk, it's not like you don't know. If Malfoy really becomes a Death Eater, she's going to be in a really dangerous position if she tries to be too friendly with him! You were the one who thought she might get hexed during patrol duty! And he might think she was being meddlesome or exasperating or..."

"Am I that exasperating?" Hermione finally found her voice. "I know what you're getting at, Harry."

"Hermione!"

"Ron." Hermione turned her gaze towards him, and he saw a look of defiance that surprised him. "It's our sixth year in Hogwarts. You-Know...I mean..." She cast a glance at Harry, who was looking expectantly at her. "Voldemort has been eluding us for five whole years, and we can't let him get any stronger than he already is. I don't think Malfoy would dare to do anything that would make him any more conspicuous than he currently is. The whole school knows that his father was murdered by Voldemort. The whole school knows that he is a walking time-bomb. Even if the world is speculating that he's becoming a Death Eater, he probably doesn't want to let the whole school know that he's a walking killer, just like the one who murdered his father, especially if it's really like what Harry said – he doesn't have a choice."

"Then what if he does have a choice?" Ron muttered.

"In any case, it's worth a try, whether he was willing or not, if I can get him to open up a little, maybe from him we can understand the whole incident and get some insight into Voldemort's plans," replied Hermione, cocking an eyebrow to the radiant Harry, who was delighted that Hermione was so supportive of his plan. "'cos the Daily Prophet clearly has no idea what went on, they're just speculating. But Harry, you need to ask Dumbledore first."

"Of course, I wouldn't send you into so much danger without asking him," said Harry, suddenly looking a bit more sober. "Boy, did I really ask you to do that?"

"I'm willing to," said Hermione, managing a smile, and Harry returned it. "But I have a condition."

"What?"

"You guys must always believe that I'm on your side. No matter what happens."

"This sounds really scary," murmured Ron, but he looked at his defiant friend, and managed a smile as well. "How could we not believe that, you gave Malfoy such a punch in third year that we're still secretly cheering in delight for every time we're under our bed-covers."

Hermione chuckled, and the two boys exchanged amused glances. But deep down, there was a niggling feeling that sixth year was not going to be altogether the most pleasant journey; in fact, it could become one of the most dangerous ever.