Disclaimer: I clearly don't own Harry Potter. Do you remember the part in the last book where a tornado leveled the entire Gryffindor common room? No? THERE'S YER PROOF.
A/N: I know I know I know. It's been three years. Out of curiosity, I was checking out my FF page the other day, and I ran across this story. Then I read all the lovely reviews from people who put this story on their alert list. Then I remembered I wrote a third chapter three years ago, and I figured what the hay. I may or may not continue this depending on the response, but if you like it, plz let me know! I would greatly appreciate it, friends.
And now, without further ado, the third chapter to this three year old story! Woohoo!
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All throughout dinner she'd try to tell them...tried to say anything at all that would open up the conversation to Malfoy, but she found herself almost physically incapable. In fact, she found herself incapable of saying just about anything, choosing to pick moodily at her food instead.
"Oye," Ron spoke through a mouthful of turkey stuffing. "Wha's wrong with you, 'Mione?"
Her heart jumped a little bit. "It's nothing...just another Arithmancy test in the morning." It took an enormous amount of effort to smile, and even then it felt foreign and twisted on her face. "I feel like I'm forgetting to study something..."
Harry laughed lightly at that, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "You always feel that way, Hermione. Even when you get straight Outstandings on your O.W.L's-"
"I only got an Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts!" She squeaked out of habit. "I hate it when people say I aced it...it's not true..."
Harry's gaze lingered on her a moment before he shrugged and heaped a giant spoonful of marshmallow pudding into his mouth, launching forth into another conversation about Ron's chances on the Gryffindor quidditch team. She sighed to herself in relief, raising her goblet to her lips quietly.
After dinner she told the boys she was going to the library, as usual. They grumbled in response, hunched over a game of Wizard's Chess, and barely noticed her step through the Fat Lady's portrait into the empty hallway.
What to do now...
She knew exactly what she was supposed to do-the trouble was making herself do it. Very slowly, she started down the hallway, breathing evenly and telling herself over and over again that she had to do this. It'd be a crime not to tell Dumbledore. I'd practically be an accomplice, she thought, her light footsteps echoing through the long hall. It was her duty to tell. It was her responsibility.
But if that's true...then why do I feel so awful?
She could figure that one out for herself. Putting herself in Malfoy's position made it seem so much more difficult, and she could hardly imagine what would happen if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found out that he failed.
"It's not a question...he will find out," she muttered to herself, turning around a corner with her eyes on the ground.
"What was that, dear?" An elderly woman with a heavily-powdered face spoke from a golden-framed portrait on her left. Her teeth were a dazzling shade of white behind her red-stained lips, her wig a shocking shade of orange.
Hermione shrieked and the lady tutted at her. "Er- it was nothing!" Blushing, she sped down the hallway, heart starting to race again. She wondered what was at stake for Malfoy. She wondered if he had the Mark on his arm, that twisted serpent and skull tattooed into his pale flesh...
Of course he has it, she reminded herself, rolling her eyes. If he was a Death Eater, he had to have it. For some reason, the thought of the Dark Mark on Malfoy made her feel sick and she stopped again, only paces away from Dumbledore's office. She looked ahead blankly, wondering if Draco had received it willingly, a smug look on his face with his blonde head held high. She looked down at the ground, thinking.
Or maybe it had been different...
"I've been here all night, Granger. I was thinking maybe you wouldn't come."
Her breath caught in her throat as he emerged from the corner, twirling his wand around between his thumb and index finger. She was at a loss for words and simply watched him approach, dumbstruck, listening to his drawling voice echo down the empty hallway.
"Actually, that's a lie. I've been here ever since we had our...discussion earlier. You made me miss my dinner, Mudblood." He looked like hell but for the first time his appearance wasn't a shock to her; she was starting to get used to it.
Hermione hated the fact that she was near tears. Truly, she did. "What do you think you're going to do, Malfoy? Do you think you're going to stop me from telling? And if you are actually daft enough to try, calling me a Mudblood isn't going to get you very far, now is it?" She stomped up to him, closing the small gap between them. "So hurry up with whatever it is you plan on doing so I can properly inform the Headmaster that we have a Death Eater in our school."
He scowled down at her. "I admit," he started lightly, looking away. "Calling you a Mudblood maybe wasn't the smartest move..."
"No. It wasn't." She sighed, that empty sort of pain spreading through her chest, almost burning. Suddenly she looked up at him, defiant. "Let me see it."
He looked at her like she was crazy. "What the hell are you on about?"
Feeling reckless and so horribly confused for the first time in a long time, she grabbed his wrist and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. He didn't even try to wrench away; in fact, his arm went limp in her hand, consenting. His skin was flush...unspeakably hot...
"Oh," she breathed, wide eyes glued in horror to his forearm. There it was. A twisting, black serpent with its fangs bared, tumbling out of the mouth of a skull with slanted eyes. Except it didn't look tattooed, it look like it had been carved into his skin, the lines deep and horribly raw-looking. The skin around it was still raised and bruised. Fresh. "It hurts?" she asked.
Surprisingly, he answered. "Yes, still. Getting it hurt worse than I thought it would." His arm twitched in her hand as he recalled the memory.. "The moment he walked in the door I just shut up and showed him my arm- it didn't matter whether I wanted it or not at that point. Merlin, I swear it was worse than the Cruciatus..."
She let his arm fall out of her grasp, horrified. "You've had the Cruciatus performed on you? By whom?"
Suddenly his eyes went cold and he sneered, holding his arm close to him like she'd wounded it. "That's none of your business. In fact, none of this is your business. You just love poking your nose where it doesn't belong, don't you? It's pathetic, really."
Hermione actually laughed to herself, a flare of hatred she didn't know she had welling up in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, I'm pathetic?I didn't even try to find anything out about you, Malfoy-I figured you weren't important enough for me to even have suspicions. You practically showed me everything I needed to see! Honestly...what Voldemort could possibly want with you is beyond me." She watched him twitch visibly and scoffed. "So don't go calling me pathetic, Malfoy."
His face was oddly still as he tipped his head forward to her, as if commending her. "Alright, then. Go on and do it. But if you think that I'm going to somehow cooperate with him, you're mad. The moment you take another step towards that statue, you better believe I'm out of here. No one will stop me from leaving...you can't be in two places at once, Granger. Hell, maybe I'll cause some damage on the way out. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory, don't you think? Take some people down with me?" His nostrils flared as he breathed, his wand now held tightly in his clenched fist.
She looked into his gray eyes, searching. "What will he do to you if you fail?"
He backed away from her, repulsed. "Don't even act like you care. Nothing sickens me more than feigned pity." Malfoy paused, looking sideways down the empty hallway, a nasty grin on his face. It didn't at all reach his eyes. "What will he do?" He seemed to be asking himself. "I wouldn't go back to the Dark Lord...I'd be insane to go back and think he wouldn't kill me." At this he let out an empty laugh. "He'd mess around with me for a bit first, probably in front of my parents to teach them a lesson. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time." Slowly, he turned to face her, and the smile was wiped clean from his face. In fact, he had no expression at all. Just dead features. "If you really want to know, Granger, I'd probably try to hide. But we all know you can't hide. Karkoroff figured that one out, didn't he? I suppose it'd be refreshing, though. Nothing could possibly be worse than being here another day." She watched, horrorstruck, as he backed away another step and glanced down the hallway quickly. "So take another step, Granger. I've wanted out of this castle for months now...finally you've given me a proper excuse."
Hermione opened her mouth for a bit, gaping, and closed it again. All the breath-all of her ability to speak-was caught up at the base of her throat, and she found herself capable of doing nothing but staring at him widely, horrified. With a trembling hand she raised her own wand to him and he narrowed his eyes, snapping his up towards her in a flash. "What am I supposed to do, then?" Her own voice shocked her, and she needed a few moments of silence before she could continue. "I don't like you, Malfoy," she blurted.
"The feeling is mutual."
"Even though I may not like you...you have to believe that Dumbledore can help you. You're a smarmy ass and I've loathed you since the moment we met, but you don't deserve this. Just trust me this once...don't run out of here and get yourself killed. As much as I may despise you, I can't have that on my conscience." Hermione swallowed hard and took a hesitant step forward. "I'll help you."
He snorted. "I don't give a shit about your conscience, you know."
"Understandably so," she breathed, eying the ground intensely. "Do you give a...shit," she tensed a little bit, not used to such foul words leaving her mouth, "about your parents? What about your friends?"
"I don't have any friends, you should know that, Mudblood. And I do give a shit about my parents, that's the only reason I've done all this in the first place." His eyes leveled with hers. They were absolutely depthless...unreadable. "You think Dumbledore can help me and my parents?"
"Yes. I don't think so, I know so."
Malfoy laughed bitterly. "That's the problem with you Gryffindors, you think Dumbledore is some bloody savior. You think that old loon can get you out of anything. I'm going to let you in on something, Granger." At this he took a few steps forward until he was uncomfortably close, just millimeters away. He sensed her discomfort and grinned before continuing. "No amount of good or light could ever overpower something so dark. You can't fight him. You can't win. When will you Gryffindors ever understand that?"
Hermione looked up at him defiantly. "I refuse to believe that."
"Well then that's your own problem," he answered lightly, flashing her a very small and humorless smile. "Now, where were we? Ah, right. You were about to be a tattle-telling bitch and I was about to leave this castle in a blaze of smoke and glory. Although," he begin, lifting his wand and resting it lightly on the tip of her nose. She flinched. "Wouldn't it make more sense for me to just put a body-bind curse on you so I have more time? How does that sound?"
The way his eyes lit up at the thought of hexing her frightened Hermione, but she kept her eyes on his resolutely. "No, I have a better idea. Lets make a deal."
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R&R, chil'rens!