Chapter Two

Hermione wandered the school in a heated temper. Why Malfoy chose to get to her the way he did she didn't know. She did not see her being a muggleborn as a viable excuse, nor could she see it merely being because she was friends with Harry and Ron. No, she honestly thought he had taken to firing her up because either he was bored, he preferred conversing with her when she was angry or she was in some way the object of his cruel entertainment.

Several weeks had passed since she had nearly taken the bathroom door off its hinges in her temper. He had continued to insult her and her friends, make cruel comments and just in general annoy the hell out of her. She was so completely sick and tired of it that she had taken to walking the halls in the hours between dinner and Draco's scheduled evening shower time. She would then sneak into the study, grab as many of Salazar Slytherin's books as she could carry and take them to her room to read.

Her room was by far her favourite place to be. It was at the very top of the long-winding staircase, directly opposite Draco's. It was decorated in Gryffindor's scarlet and gold and she was positively in love with the King-size bed and the silk bed linen that completed it. The room had a large armchair in one corner while in another stood a large oak desk. The entire right wall as you entered the room was made of glass, with a door heading out to the massive balcony that she and Draco shared between their rooms.

Hermione took Volume III of Salazar's journal from her stack and had just begun reading when suddenly her bedroom door opened to reveal Ron.

"Ron?" she questioned. "How did you get in here?"

"I – Malfoy let me in," Ron said. "The git told me you weren't here."

"Well I'm usually not," Hermione said. "Not while he is, anyway."

Ron frowned. "But where do you go?" he asked. "You never come and see me –"

"Ron, I just need time to think sometimes," Hermione said, not really meaning to interrupt. "I've been having a lot of nightmares lately and sometimes…"

Ron gathered her in his arms. "What, Hermione? Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I don't want people to tell me that it'll be okay or that I should stop thinking about it," Hermione replied in a soft voice. "I hate the ones about last year the most," she added, "and the weird dreams about Malfoy –"

"What weird dreams about Malfoy?" Ron asked quickly.

"Oh – nothing like that, Ron!" Hermione cried hurriedly. "No – I – Well, I have dreams about the times when we saw him last year, the looks on his face, the situation where we saved him. I –"

"What about it?" Ron scoffed, moving away from her. "He's an ungrateful git. We saved his life – twice I might add – and he's never done a single thing to say thank you. He still insults you and picks on my family and bullies Harry."

"I think he wears a mask, Ron," Hermione said very lightly, only realizing it herself as she was saying it. He could barely hear her. "I think he only does that because that's what we expect him to do. Ron, there's been times when he has attempted to be civil and I snapped down his throat, defending myself too quickly. Ron, I think maybe the war has affected him like –"

"Like it's affected you?" Ron snapped. "You think he's gone crazy like you have?"

"Crazy?!" Hermione didn't mean for her retort to be so loud. "The war has affected me greatly, yes! I can't adjust the way you and Harry and everyone else have! I'm still having nightmares! I'm still feeling the pain of the Cruciatus Curse! But that does not make me crazy!"

"But you're defending Malfoy!" Ron cried loudly. "You're basically saying he deserves a second chance! He wanted us killed, Hermione!"

Hermione went silent, remembering how she had accused Malfoy of the same thing to his own face. "Yes, yes he did," Hermione said. "Now, Ron, if you would please leave; I have some research to conduct."

Ron sat there silently for a moment as Hermione went back to Slytherin's journal. "I don't really think you're crazy," he said softly. He snuggled closer to her on the bed. "Hermione, I love you."

Hermione looked up and nodded before kissing him. Yes, she thought she might just love him too.

"Prat," she whispered as Ron broke away and wove his hand around her waist, laying her down so her head rested on the pillows.

After several minutes of more kissing, Hermione moved Ron's hand out from under her t-shirt. "I really need to do some research tonight, Ron," she said.

Ron nodded and sat up, straightening his shirt and calming his breath. "Just give me a moment."

As Ron headed out, she heard the door across the landing close with a slam. Hermione continued her reading in peace.

ooo

Two weeks later and Hermione was in a panic. Ron had not returned to her room since that night. True, they saw each other during classes and exchanged quick kisses at meals but Ron seemed to not want to come and spend a moment in Hermione's quarters. She did not know why and when she asked, he merely shrugged and said he'd had lots of Quidditch practice.

Hermione wasn't quite sure she believed it.

"Maybe he's gone elsewhere for a shag, Granger," Draco announced one afternoon as he came down the stairs to the common room where she had been sitting.

Hermione groaned. She could have sworn she had heard the water running in the bathroom.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" she said, her tone clearly showing that she was annoyed.

"Weasley," Draco said. "You've had that look on your face for days and as I haven't seen Weasley's ugly face bopping around here for a couple of weeks I'd say he's the reason."

"That's very observant of you," Hermione snapped. "Though, you are entirely wrong. Ron and I are fine."

"No you're not," Draco smirked. "He thinks you're crazy."

Hermione looked at Draco with narrowed eyes. "You had no right to listen to that conversation, Malfoy!"

"Listen to it?" Draco smirked. "It was kind of hard to block out – I'm quite sure that my fellow Slytherins would have heard it from the dungeons." He put on an imitation of Ron's anger, "'But you're defending Malfoy!'"

The atmosphere changed. Hermione's anger deflated and her cheeks flushed pink. "Well yes I suppose we were rather loud," she said quietly.

A moment of silence passed, Hermione returning to the journal that lay open in her hands. Despite trying, she was having awful trouble concentrating on it.

"I can look after myself, Granger," Draco stated calmly after a while.

Hermione looked up only to see his feet disappear up the stairs, leaving her to ponder for the hundredth time how anyone could ever come to understand Draco Malfoy.

ooo

"But Malfoy, all these stones seem to do is reveal secret entrances to places Slytherin wanted to keep secret," Hermione argued as she and Draco flipped through book after book together. "We know that all three of them open up this room. We know that none of them work on the Chamber of Secrets but it has its own defenses anyway and you've already tried them in the Slytherin Common Room –"

"What about inside the Chamber?" Draco questioned. "Maybe Slytherin had a secret room within a secret room?"

"There is really no logic in that, Malfoy," Hermione responded bluntly. "The Chamber of Secrets was the biggest of all Sltherin's secrets. What would he have possibly have wanted to hide in a secret room that's been built within a secret room?"

"A nest of hibernating Basilisk eggs perhaps?"

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought. "I doubt that very much, Malfoy."

"Ok, so maybe the stones do something else?" Malfoy contemplated, looking at a sketch in one of the many books they had out. "There's plenty of legend surrounding stones of great magical ability – the Philosopher's Stone, the Babel Stone, the –"

"Resurrection stone," Hermione murmured.

"- I'd heard of the Stones of Salazar, or Salazar's Stones, for years," Draco said. "There were stories of them killing Mudbloods if they touched them. Other stories were a little bit more in depth such as the one about separating magic from a soul. Salazar Slytherin always spoke of wanting his power to be preserved after he had died and many believed that he used three stones of shining platinum to capture and incase his powers at death so he would live on, immortal."

Hermione shivered as she tried to block out the memory that threatened to surface within her mind as Draco spoke that final word.

Large statues of serpents flashed before her, the rotten remains of a massive snake caused her stomach to churn in familiarity, a writhing, screaming golden cup and then, so clearly, she could see Ron's shining blue eyes as they looked at her, delightedly, followed immediately by the vision of a towering stone statue of a man.

Hermione looked at Draco who was watching her with a frown. "Are you having one of those crazy moments again?" he questioned. Hermione did not respond in any way. "Not thinking about Weasley are you?"

This time Hermione shook her head lightly. "I just …" she trailed off and shook her head more vigorously. "I'm fine."

Draco sat back in his armchair, his arms folded, and contemplated her for a moment. He watched her as she straightened her pile of books, her breath becoming even once more. After a moment she sat up, looking her usual self once more. She saw Draco watching her and blinked.

"I think you may be on to something," Hermione stated as though nothing had interrupted. "Salazar Slytherin used these stones to preserve life and he probably thought life could not exist without power so he discovered a way to keep his power alive."

Hermione lifted one of the stones, waved it across the top of a vase that sat empty on the side table beside her, it glowed red before it filled with water, another wave and she saw a vision of beast-like flames within the contents.

She looked at Draco as they disappeared, stood and left the room.

Draco looked back at the vase and waited. The image of the fiendfyre had disappeared and he saw nothing but still water. Leaning back in his chair once more he listened carefully for the sound of Hermione moving around in her room upstairs.

He could have sworn that he heard a sob travel down the stairs.