I don't own any of the characters, books, etc.  All property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, and whoever else might have a hold in it.

I don't want to understand.

HOLD ON ME

            The problem, really, when you get right down to it, was not merely my background.  It was myself, my own true nature, that I tried to hide but that inevitably slipped out.  Admittedly, being raised the way I was had some hand in how I turned out, but it is really quite unfair to blame the parents and uprbringing entirely.  Nature vs nurture, the age-old question, yet in my case I know it was a combination.  I'm a conniving bastard on the surface, I freely admit it, and this certainly did partially come from being spoiled rotten as a child (really, who could help turning out any other way, excepting a saint?), but also I have this innate drive to be superior.  This innate drive met its match at school, yes, where I was constantly being upshown by people I felt should really not be upshowing me, yet I did nothing about it.  The logical response, one would think, would be to study harder, practice more, etc., etc.  This is where my background came rushing to the fore.  I was a spoiled rich kid, why should I do those things?  I should be naturally better, naturally the top, shouldn't I?  So I made do with petty taunting and insults.  I needed to feel superior even if I really, to tell the painful truth, wasn't. 

            You're probably wondering by now if I actually have a point.  Don't worry, I do.  My purpose in this narrative is not merely to bore you with an account of my past, my family, whatever and so forth.  No, this is a story of love. 

            At first it wasn't really love, at least not in the traditional sense.  It was merely another conquest, another boost to my already overlarge ego.  I'd never believed in "true love", and I told myself I wasn't about to start.  With her, though…. If I had believed in true love, this little clandestine affair of ours (only mine at first; she joined willingly only after much time and effort on my part) would have had me waxing sentimental about everyday things, the dew on the morning grass and so on and so forth, sprouting bad poetry, the works.  However, I didn't.  Believe, I mean.  And because I didn't, I couldn't trust my own feelings on that score.  When I felt the stirrings of what ordinary people call "love", I panicked.  Not love, I told myself.  It couldn't be love.  And because of this, because of myself, I passed up my one shot at happiness.

            I'm getting ahead of myself, however.  As they say, the beginning is generally the best place to start. 

            So, to begin.

            My sixth year had been when everything changed.  For most, it had been the year before, as fifth year was when the Ministry finally recognized that Voldemort was indeed back, and everyone's life turned upside down.  Everyone, that is, except the Golden Trio.  Harry knew; had known since first year.  As Harry knew, so did Ron and Hermione.  I knew as well, of course; with a father right in Lord Voldemort's inner circle, how could I not?  However, this did not make much difference in everyday life for me.  It was merely a fact of life.  I was on the side of Voldemort, without question.  I didn't really think about it; it was just a constant in my existence.  I breathed air – I supported Voldemort – I did what my father told me.  Blind to other options.. well, maybe not blind.  I knew that others out there did not support the Dark Lord, it just never crossed my mind that /I/ could follow that path. 

            Sixth year, however. 

            We were paired together in NEWT Potions.  It only made sense; we were the top students in the class.  Neither Harry nor Ron were in the class, as Snape had point-blank refused to advance them.  Him, I should say.  Snape had no problem with Ron, other than the obvious one of his being Harry's best friend, and a Gryffindor.  McGonagall had stood up for Harry, but Snape would not be budged, and frankly Harry's scores were not high enough to make a convincing case.   Snape couldn't very well refuse to advance Hermione, however, no matter how much he disliked her.  Her OWL scores were top-notch, and despite her own dislike of Snape, she just couldn't stay away from any sort of challenging class. 

            To get back to the point.  We were paired together in Potions, and were always trying to one-up each other.  We were constantly vying for the top scores in class.  Without Harry there, Snape let up on Hermione a bit, and graded us fairly equally, I like to think.  One never knows for sure with Snape, but it wouldn't really make much sense for him to give a student a false impression of how well or poorly he was doing in such a high level class, would it?  Besides, I think our rivalry amused him.  Yes, amused him, the ever sour-tempered Snape.  He, of course, would not let anyone see that he was even capable of being amused, but nonetheless, one could tell, if one really kept an eye out for it. 

            But I digress.  As I was saying, it all started sixth year. 

One fine afternoon, we were brewing an insanely complicated potion.  Hermione was paying close attention, as always.  I, on the other hand, was daydreaming.  I really shouldn't have been, but there you have it.  Spoiled little rich kid Malfoy, never has to pay attention, for his daddy would always rescue him.  At least, that's how it had been before.  Now I couldn't afford to, but old habits die hard. 

"Malfoy!"  Hermione hissed at me.  "Pay attention!"

"Wha-?"  I was startled out of my daydream. 

"Granger, Malfoy, what is the problem, may I ask?"  Snape swooped down upon us.  I groaned silently. 

"Nothing, sir,"  replied Hermione innocently.

"Kindly pay attention in class, Malfoy."  Snape, having correctly ascertained the reason for perfect Hermione's momentary lapse in attention, went back to his explanation.  Hermione glared at me for a moment before paying attention again.  I spared a lament for forgotten daydreams, and turned my full attention upon Snape, thankful that he had made do with a reprimand.  I was his favorite student, but as I've said before, one can never tell with Snape. 

Later on, as we were actually brewing the potion, I spared a glance to study Hermione over the cauldron.  She noticed me, and gave me another glare.  I gave her my most charming smile in return, then turned back to the task on hand.  No use drifting off during the actual brewing.  If we screwed up, the consequences would not be pretty.       

After class, however, I could return to my thoughts.  Hermione had gotten a lot prettier over the years.  It really helped that her teeth had been shrunk.  That one feature transformed her whole face.  Lately she had taken to taming her hair, as well.  Not to the point of glossy smoothness it had been at the fourth-year Yule Ball, but still better than the wild, frizzy mop it had been.  All in all, I was quite taken with her, and I decided that it would be my mission to, so to speak, get under her skirt. 

I realize this doesn't paint a very good picture of me.  Nevertheless, I'm not going to try to gloss it over any.  Back then, I was a selfish bastard.  I've said this before, and I'll keep saying it.  It was true.  It's still true, to be brutally honest.  The only difference is that now I try to control it. 

That was the day I decided to win Hermione over.  However, that wasn't the day I actually started trying to win Hermione over.  I had fully intended to, but certain other unforeseen events got in the way.  Namely, that Voldemort attacked.  Imagine my dismay, as while I was contentedly making plans to seduce Hermione while walking to NEWT Herbology (Potions and Herbology really went together – couldn't take one without the other), up floats the Dark Mark. 

Instant chaos. 

FROM NOW ON AND ALWAYS  (I)

I, of course, was expected to take the part of Lord Voldemort.  So I did.  My father wouldn't have it any other way, and I agreed.  After all, I had grown up supporting the Dark Side.  What else was I to do?  I didn't see that there were any other options available to me.  This, of course, did nothing to further my quest to win over Hermione.  I wasn't too concerned, though.  After all, there was still time.  I could hang around, support Voldemort, and after the war was won go back to frivolous pursuits.  I had vague notions of being in a position of power under the Dark Lord, and using this power to impress Hermione and seduce her over to the Dark Side with me. 

I realize now this was utterly impossible, a fool's daydream.  As I've been saying, though, I was a fool. 

This chapter in my life was not too interesting.  Unlike what one might think, being the Dark Lord's servant is not all narrow escapes and cowering in terror, avoiding His wrath.  Mostly, I sat around at home.  My father was always being sent places, off on top-secret missions, but I was not old enough, and had not yet personally proven my loyalty to the point where the Dark Lord would trust me with important matters.

So I sat at home and at school, twiddling my thumbs, imagining the daring escapades I would be doing if only the Dark Lord would allow.  Then, one day, near Christmas break – school had continued, of course, Hogwarts being reckoned the safest place for students to stay during these years of darkness, the only difference was that many of the students (Slytherins mostly, though there were some from other houses) were gone for long periods of time – this changed. 

I was sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast, not really thinking about anything, when it happened. 

My eagle owl swooped in, bearing a piece of parchment with two words:  "Come home". 

Finally!  I left the Great Hall, rejoicing that the boredom was over. 

I was right, too.  As if to make up for lost time, my life took a turn to the interesting side.  Far too interesting for my tastes, actually. 

INTERMISSION

I would like to say that my experiences working under the Dark Lord's command, interesting as they were, caused me to turn from the Dark Side and realize my commitment to good, and the sanctity of life, and all that.  It didn't, however.  The truth, as always, was just that I didn't like working for Him.  It wounded my overdeveloped sense of pride to do grunt work for someone else.  That was it.  I didn't like not being important.  No one was important in the Dark Lord's circle.  One could imagine the hierarchy as a flowchart – a bubble with Lord Voldemort inside, labeled Ruler of the Universe, and a line pointing down to another, larger bubble, labeled Everyone Else.  I didn't like to be lumped with Everyone Else. 

I tried to stick it out.  After all, this was what I was here for, right?  It was what I had devoted practically my whole life to.  Yet… while it was indeed quite interesting, it quickly became uninteresting where it counted.  I stayed after the first time he used Cruciatus on me, I think because I felt like some sort of interesting, unhailed martyr.  After the second time, I left.  Pain, in my opinion, is something that can happen to other people. 

FROM NOW ON AND ALWAYS  (II)

"So that's why you left?  Because your strength of conviction didn't hold up under pain?"   Lupin looked at me skeptically. 

"How do we know you won't run out on us the first time things get a bit difficult, then?"  asked Tonks bluntly.

"You don't.  I can only give you what I have right now, and trust in your trust."

"Trust in our trust, eh?  Never knew you to be the sentimental type, Malfoy." 

"I'm not.  But I will be.  I've got nowhere else to go."

I noticed Dumbledore looking at me thoughtfully, and tried to look trusting and hopeless.  Because the truth was, I really didn't have anywhere else to go.  Voldemort would kill me as soon as look on me, and my family and friends were all part of His circle.  If the good guys didn't feel like showing their good hero spirit, I was pretty much screwed.  So I prayed silently that the noble Gryffindor spirit would hold up when confronted by the likes of me. 

Of course, it did.  It took much discussion and persuasion, but eventually Dumbledore's uncanny instinct for knowing when people can be trusted even when they themselves might not won out.  If it hadn't, I wouldn't be writing this now.  I most likely would be dead at the hands of Voldemort or one of his followers.  Scratch that – I would be dead.  No 'most likely' about it, there's no uncertainty when it comes to Lord Voldemort and death.

Well, except in the case of Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived.  He was a different story, however.  His was the story of exception.  This, however, is not his, but my story.

The best thing about headquartering with the Order was that it brought me back into proximity with Hermione.  To tell the truth, when I contacted them for the first time to throw myself on their mercy, I had completely forgotten about Hermione.  While on the run after being tortured by Voldemort, believe me, the only thing on my mind was my own safety.  It didn't even cross my mind that if I took sanctuary with the Order I would run across Hermione, she being one of Harry's best friends and Harry being the whole reason for the reinstitution of the Order.  However, once I saw her and realized that I would indeed be seeing a lot of her again, my old plans snuck back into my head.  Here was a prime opportunity, fallen right into my lap.  Operation Seduce Hermione was back on track.  In theory, at least.  Reality proved to be a bit less accomodating.  While I did see Hermione more often than I had while working under Voldemort, this only meant that I saw her at all.  Despite living in the same place, she proved to be quite elusive, and whenever I did manage to see her for decent amounts of time, she was always, always with Harry, Ron, or both.  This frustrated me to no end.  I kept up my end and acted like good little reformed Malfoy, but I still did not like Harry or Ron.  I logically knew that the three were best friends and therefore would be together a lot, but another part of me was hoping for dashing encounters alone in a deserted area of the house with Hermione.  This part of me was disappointed.  For one, there were no deserted areas of the house, so even if I had caught Hermione miraculously alone, there would have been a one in two chance of someone walking in on us as I proclaimed my undying love. 

So I wandered around the house alone… well, as alone as I could get with what seemed like every member of the Order there watching my every move.  They /really/ didn't trust me.  They had good reason not to, I suppose, but it still chafed.  I tried my best to bear it, though, as I had run out of options.  If I left, I would be killed.  So I wandered the house, trying to ignore the senior members, trying to ignore the sense of gloom pervading every room.  I had no idea why everyone was seemingly so upset to be in this house, it was just a perfectly ordinary magical dark wizard's manor.  I put it down to the fact that everyone occupying it was "good" and "noble" to the core.  It must upset them to be around such blatant evidence of evil all the time.

It was during this time period of being stuck inside Headquarters with nothing to do that I hit upon the perfect plan.  School still went on.  Hermione was a genius and liked to show it.  If she saw someone obviously having difficulties with something, it was almost guaranteed that she would offer to help. 

It went against my very nature to ask for help with anything, but I decided I could swallow my pride for the sake of relieving my boredom and achieving my objective.  It was all a game anyhow.

/Now/ Operation Seduce Hermione was back on track.

HOLD ON ME part 1 / END

I'm planning for this to be a short story in three parts.  We'll see if that works out.