The next day was a somber one for both teachers and students. Even Double Potions with the Slytherins was bearable, partly because Snape was actually keeping his comments to himself, but mostly because the Slytherins weren't giving the Gryffindors death looks and vice-versa.

Well, most of the Slytherins and Gryffindors weren't giving eachother deathlooks.

Ron and Draco continued to send nasty looks eachothers way, and finally Hermione got so tired of it that she moved in front of Ron, blocking the 17 yearold boys from glaring at eachother.

When class finally ended, Harry, Hermione, and Ron made their way out of the Potions dungeon and up to the Great Hall, where lunch was being served.

"We don't have anymore classes today," Harry observed as they sat at the table, which was now considerably more bare than he had ever seen it. In fact, if Dumbledore wanted to, he could've ordered everyone to sit at the Ravenclaw table, which was right in front of the head table. So many people were gone that all the seventh years in the school could have fit at the table, with room to spare.

"Well, what do we want to do?" Hermione asked as she picked up a piece of chicken and munched on it.

"What can we do?" Ron asked as he ate a forkful of mashed potatos. "The Hogwarts is under heavy gaurd now, we can't bloody well go outside without being told that we have to come back inside, and then when we are inside, we either have to be in a class, or we have to be in our house!" He sighed heavily and dropped his fork on his plate.

"I'm not even hungry anymore," he murmered. Harry and Hermione glanced at Ron, alarmed.

Ron Weasley? Not hungry?

*Well, there's a first for everything* Hermione thought. She wasn't really hungry either.


For the rest of the week, classes went on as usual, but without the normal hustle and bustle of the school. Teachers were tired and moody, and students were somber and mouthy. Lavender recieved a detention at the hands of Professor Snape for telling him to "bloody leave me alone and to crawl back under the rock of which he came." The Gryffindors, and especially the Slytherins had been surprised by the outburst.

Professor Snape had told Lavender that because of her outburst, she would not be going to Hogsmeade that weekend. The Gryffindors had immediately disagreed with the punishment, saying that it was to harsh, and no-one should be denied the last trip to Hogsmead before the battle of their lives. Snape then sent for Dumbledore, and it was aranged for Lavender to serve a detention with Snape after class, sweeping and mopping all the dungeon classrooms.

There were four of them.

Finally, Saturday came, and with it, Hogsmeade.

Hermione waited eagerly in the Commons Room of the Gryffindor house for Harry and Ron, and when the came down, they each grabbed their capes and made a dash for the main exit of the school.

"Three Butterbeers, please," Harry requested as the trio sat in one of the many restauraunts in Hogsmeade, this one called "The Floo Cafe". The waitress immediately hurried off, the order in her hand, and Hermione, Harry, and Ron leaned back in their chairs, watching the other students from Hogwarts laugh and converse with eachother.

When the waitress came back with the Butterbeers, they slowly drank them, not saying a word to eachother until the last drop was gone.

"Can't believe we won't be seeing this place for a while," Ron said as he downed the last of the beer. Harry just nodded and Hermione looked away from them both, sorrow filling her deep brown eyes.

Her gaze fell on Draco Malfoy, who was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle. Draco however, was not concentrating on what they were saying. He was looking past them at something, Hermione didn't know what, but she did notice that his right hand was on the upper part of his left arm, and he was rubbing his thumb up and down it.

Hermione continued to look at him, wondering what the boy was thinking.

*I wonder if he knows anything about the attacks that will start soon,* she thought. She actually at times felt sorry for Draco. She could only imagine what kind of life he led when he wasn't at school. She knew that it was nothing like hers or Rons, full of love and caring parents. Hermione had met Lucius Malfoy on two or three occasions, and each time she saw him she got the distinct impression that Draco was afraid of him.

*Draco Malfoy, afraid of his own father? Who would've thought?*

But Hermione didn't blame Draco for fearing the man. Hell, she feared him everytime she thought about him. Lucius Malfoy was a man to be reckoned with. He was extreamly powerful, both in the magical and financial since, and he was Voldemorts right hand man. She could just imagine Lucius standing over his son, yelling at him that he had a legacy to carry on.

A legacy of evil.

"Hey, Herms?"

Hermione shook her head and looked at Harry, who had spoken her name. "You okay Hermione?" he asked gently. She nodded and gave him a small smile. "Yes, I'm fine, Harry. I was just thinking about...everything."

"Yea, me too. You were planning to go into the Auror academy, right?"

"Yes...but I didn't think it would be this soon."

Hermione looked down at her glass and drummed her fingers on the table.

"You know, I could really go for some chocolate frogs right now," Ron said. Hermione lifted her head and smiled. Hogsmeade candy always made her feel better, and it usually calmed her fears.

Usually.

She, Ron, and Harry left The Floo Cafe after paying their bill and spent the rest of their time in Hogsmeade buying candy and running around, laughing and joking with eachother, trying to forget that they would soon have to go up against the most powerful being in the universe.


Draco sat at his table in The Floo Cafe. He finished up his beer and rose from his chair, heading towards the exit.

He stepped outside and gathered his cape to him. The air seemed colder, now that the war was imminent.

Draco began to walk down the dirt path that led back to Hogwarts. As he strolled along, he thought about his life, and what he had become.

He was a very powerful wizard, he knew it, and what's more, everyone else knew it as well. Draco was feared at Hogwarts by most of the students, save three particular goody goody Gryffindors who never seemed to cease getting in his way of having a little fun.

He thought about his school career, everything that he had done at Hogwarts. He was the second male in the class grade wise, and Harry Potter, who was Head Boy was the only one that topped him.

*That would figure* he thought as he kicked a random stone off the road.

But then, Harry Potter was Mr. Perfect, everyones favorite boy.

Except of course, the Slytherins favorite. No, that honor was given to Draco himself. He was leader of the Slytherins, a prefect for the second year in a row. But Draco didn't doubt the fact that even if he wasn't a prefect, people still would heed his every command, simply because of his last name, and the power that went along with it.

Sometimes he hated it.

Sometimes, he wished he could be a normal teenager, with normal parents, go to a normal school, and have normal friends.

But he wasn't normal, and he knew that he never would be.

His right hand brushed up against his upper left arm again, and he winced at the thought of an ugly black scar being made there. Draco knew that Snape had one; he'd seen it.

And it looked painful.

Not that Draco was scared of pain; far from it. He actually enjoyed pain sometimes. It made him believe that he wasn't weak, that he was on this earth for a purpose.

Unfortunatly, fate already had that purpose layed out for him.

Draco looked into the stary night sky, and let out a sigh, his breath coming out of his mouth as thick wavy fog.

Then, he made a conscious decision, one that he had wanted to make for a long time.

He would die before that mark was branded on his arm. He didn't want to be evil. He didn't want to follow Voldemort. He didn't want to end up like his father, so concerned with money and power that he forgot about his child and wife.

From that moment on, Draco Malfoy decided he was in full control of his life.

And damn anyone who stood in his way.