Author's Note:

Gosh, I am really sorry about how long it took me to update this :( That being said, I still hope you enjoy this chapter.

Please review! Reviews are food for the soul and inspire me to write more *hint *hint


—Chapter Four—


"Come on, Laertes," Prolemy jeered, his arms spread open, "What are you waiting for?"

Hermione gnawed on her lip, hesitating. In the past couple of months, she had spent all her spare time studying the books the older wizard had sent her on the dark arts, but despite her fervor to learn more, she was not yet completely past her inhibitions when it came to performing the spells.

"Can't I try it on Draco, like the other ones?" Hermione insisted. She was sure her hesitations would disappear without further question if she had to send the spell at him.

"No," Ptolemy answered bluntly. "You need to be able to summon the necessary emotions on sheer will power, not due to circumstance. I've let you test the past spells on Malfoy, but you need to prove to yourself that you can perform them on anybody, not just someone you've loathed for years. Now send the spell at me."

Hermione glared at her hands, a struggle warring within her between the desire to prove herself and please, and the morals she had rigidly abided by for two years. She didn't want to hurt people using the Dark Arts, especially people who didn't deserve it in her eyes, as Ptolemy seemed to be implying she needed to do. Was that really so small-minded of her?

"And what if I…refuse?" Hermione asked, her throat rough.

God, she could feel Draco's triumphant gaze burning into her.

Ptolemy's face hardened. "Then you can walk outside of my class and return when you think you've mustered up the guts to do what I've asked."

No teacher had ever spoken to her like that. They had never had to, because Hermione had always been eager to learn, eager to please.

But could she do this?

Silently, Hermione stood in her place, looking at her wand.

No, something in her answered, she couldn't. Not yet, at least.

"I see," Ptolemy said harshly, reading her face. "Well then, class dismissed for today."

Hermione jerked from her frozen position, her face emotionless as she picked up her bag from the corner and walked with quick feet to the door.

"Laertes, don't show your face until you've something to show me."

Hermione turned her head, not quite looking back, but in acknowledgement that she had heard the words, before leaving the room.

Face tightening to keep the tears spilling from her eyes, she stormed down the halls blindly, not even knowing where she was going. By god, everything was falling apart. Not only was she struggling with the Dark Arts and had not spoken to Harry and Ron in nearly seven months, but strange attacks had been going on in the school as well.

It had started with some writing in blood on one of the walls next to a paralyzed Mrs. Norris—the chamber of secrets has been awakened, enemies of the heir beware—and then one by one, students had started turning up paralyzed—Colin Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Penelope Clearwater—and no one knew the cause, not even the professors. Even Sir Nicholas had become a victim, which had baffled her because he was neither a muggleborn nor alive; there were few enchantments that could work on a ghost.

Hermione, of course, had immediately gone to the library and looked up legends concerning Hogwarts, finding everything she could on the 'Chamber of Secrets.' Her search had yielded her rumors of a hidden monster that Salazar Slytherin had left in the castle for his heirs after he had separated from the founders, tasked through the centuries with the mission of purging the school.

The language had been rather vague, but Hermione had found the meaning of 'purging' to be rather clear. Whatever monster was hidden in the chamber was intended to wipe the school clean of muggleborns, which meant that Sir Nicholas had been an accident.

After that, she had begun researching for the possibility of characteristics and powers that only heirs of Slytherin would have, that would grant them uniquely the power to control the mysterious monster. But there was nothing, really, no family passed down summoning ritual, and if there were, she had not found any record of it, limited and censored as her resources were. The only thing she could think of was the parseltongue aspect, but Harry was the only parseltongue she knew, and that—

Hermione stopped abruptly and leaned heavily against a wall, her mind working rapidly, Ptolemy and the Dark Arts all but forgotten. Suddenly, she began to see connections between recent events, links between dots she had overlooked before.

"Oh," Hermione muttered aloud, "Oh. I am so stupid."

Parseltongue. Harry had heard a voice during a detention, a voice no one else could hear. Parseltongue. So Salazar's monster was a serpent…a serpent that could paralyze; but not through its venom, there had been no puncture marks on any of the victims, not even any signs of physical harm.

A snake that could harm…without biting, without even touching.

A…basilisk.

Hermione collapsed, her legs giving out, and she let out a hysterical laugh.

A basilisk.

She had stumbled on the creature during a bit of light reading; Most Macabre Monstrosities, yes, that had been the name of the book.

But there was a flaw in this theory. None of the victims had died, and the basilisk killed with its stare. Unless…maybe, the victims hadn't looked at the basilisk directly? Colin had been found with his camera…there had been water on the floor when Mrs. Norris had been found…Sir Nicholas couldn't die because he was already dead

She…she had to tell someone, a professor, Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore. She got up and headed directly towards the Headmaster's office, urgency powering her to half run.

"There you are, mudblood," a voice called from behind her, soft footsteps echoing down the halls.

"Not now, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, her voice frenzied.

"Upset, Granger?" Draco murmured, his voice sounding closer, though Hermione didn't turn back again to see how close, "After finally realizing how utterly pathetic you are?"

"I said not now, Malfoy!" Hermione whispered, looking down the halls with increasing paranoia.

Now that she thought about it, how was the basilisk traveling? It was huge, there was no way it could be roaming in the halls of the school without anyone noticing. And yet, the attacks hadn't been isolated to once section of the castle, so somehow, the basilisk was able to traverse the entire school.

So what was extended throughout the entire school, but was hidden...maybe in the walls? In a muggle house, it would be the plumbing, but in Hogwarts—

The pipes.

She had to tell someone!

A hand tightened painfully around her arm and yanked her viciously back into a punishing grasp. Hermione turned, on the verge of hysteria.

"Malfoy!" Hermione all but shrieked at him, "Let go—"

Draco looked at her heartlessly, his gaze cold. "It seems that I have allowed you to become complacent, mudblood. Have you forgotten that you are powerless compared to me? Do—"

A loud hiss suddenly sounded behind them, echoing throughout the abandoned hall.

Hermione froze.

No. Not now. Not when she had just figured it all out. Did whoever was controlling it somehow know that she had done? Impossib—

"What—" Draco hissed, his face annoyed as he began to turn.

Hermione's eyes flew wide open in panic, and she acted without thinking. She didn't know why she did it, even later, she wouldn't know why she had done it, but she threw herself in front of Draco as he turned around, blocking his vision.

So stupid.

Belatedly, she closed her eyes, but by that time, it was already too late. She had been quick-thinking enough to direct her gaze downward, but the stupid floors had been polished and waxed to perfection, and she managed to glimpse the pale, yellow eyes before the serpent had moved away, disappearing somewhere else.

Silence rang throughout the corridor, deafeningly.

She blinked, and wondered why she was able to do so—wondering if she had somehow miraculously escaped, or if maybe her theory had been wrong—but then she began to feel the paralysis sink in, starting from the bottom of her legs. As they turned into dead weights, she lost control of her balance, and landed on the floor on her side, her startled gaze falling upon Draco.

The other was leaning against the wall, his silver eyes focused on her with shock, his expression, for the first time since she had known him, truly without malice.

"A basilisk…Potter," Draco muttered, and despite herself, despite the situation, Hermione was impressed by how quickly he worked it out. But then his gaze intensified unbearably, and he looked at her, his jaw clenched.

"Why?"

A very good question. Why had she done it? For a person she hated above all else?

"Why did you step in front of me?" Draco snarled when she remained silent, his nostrils flaring as he bent down to her and entangled his fingers in her hair to yank his face to hers.

"Malfoy," Hermione said calmly as the paralysis reached her stomach and her arms, "You have to tell them….Harry and Ron. You have to let them know before anyone is killed. It's a basilisk, and it's been traveling through the pipes."

"ANSWER MY QUESTION!"

"A-also," Hermione continued, ignoring him and averting her gaze, as it became difficult to breathe, "don't let them find me like this. Get rid of the charms, and change my uniform back to a Gryffindor one."

Draco bent over her and gripped her face painfully, forcing silver to meet amber.

"Why?"

Why? Why? Why?

"I-I don't know," Hermione answered at last, her voice rough, "My body just…moved."

And then all she knew was darkness.


"Madame Pomfrey, please, can we see her now?"

"Yes, yes, you two! I administered the drought this morning and Severus made it particularly potent, so she should be waking up any minute."

Hermione groaned, every limb aching as though she had been trampled on by hundreds of her classmates. Light seeped in through her eyelids, and with effort, she managed to lift them, as first seeing nothing but white, before color and detail settled in.

Two anxious faces looked at her from above.

"Harry?" Hermione muttered, "Ron?"

Suddenly, both were hugging her tightly, and she barely stifled a pained exclamation, instead choosing to enjoy the embrace.

"Hermione," Harry told her earnestly, "We were so stupid—"

"The stupidest," Ron interjected, his blue eyes nervous.

"And I know you'll never forgive us, I don't know who you could," Harry continued sorrowfully, "but please know that we are so sorry, I am so sorry—"

"And after all you've done for us," Ron added, "in the past and then with the basilisk, I know I'm scum, no, worse than scum—"

"Shut up," Hermione growled, teeth clenched. Immediately, both boys shut their mouths with a snap.

Hermione looked up at them, pushing herself onto arms so that her back was leaning against the bedpost.

"You two are idiots. Imbecilic, moronic, idiots." she began slowly, and both boys began to look even more depressed. "Do you want to know what kind of hell you've put me through these past months?"

"Ron," she snapped, turning her head to him, "for all you say about purebloods, sometimes you act just as prejudiced as them. Our houses do not define us, do not define whether we are good or bad, and it's that type of mentality that oppresses individuals and forces them to conform to certain, often impossible, standards."

"And Harry…" Hermione said, turning to him, her voice cracking, "what you did hurt the most. Because I know you didn't believe what Ron was saying, I know you agreed with me, but you still sided with him. You always do, no matter the situation. And I…I don't really know what that says about our friendship."

"Hermione," Harry swore seriously, "I know what I've done, but I promise you, I value just as much as Ron."

"And I've gotten over my git phase," Ron told her, "honestly, I got over it as soon as I found out that Ginny was in the Chamber of Secrets and thought I'd never see her again—"

"Ginny was the chamber?!" Hermione exclaimed. She was about to ask them to elaborate, when something caught her vision in the corner of her eye and she paused. "Never mind, explain it to me later."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, looking around with a superior look, "I don't know where Pomfrey is, and this is pretty classified information."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"By the way, you were brilliant," Ron said enthusiastically, "leaving that note like that."

"…Note?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, "when we came to visit you in the hospital, there was this rolled up piece of paper in your hand. It was an excerpt from some book about basilisks, and it had 'pipes' written on it. That really helped me figure out where the entrance to the chamber was."

"Right," Hermione said hastily, her mind working. So Draco had relayed the information, despite his hatred for her. Despite her being a muggleborn. That…surprised her.

"Anyways—" Ron began, but then his stomach grumbled loudly.

"Why don't you two head on down to eat?" Hermione insisted, "It's about noon, right? I'll join you after I've changed and signed out of the hospital wing."

"Right," Harry said hesitantly, and he began to turn away. But at the last minute, he changed his mind, and turned back. "Hermione…we're…we're okay, right? We're still…friends?"

Hermione hesitated. Honestly, she had made off feeling a lot better than she really did. Truly, she had wanted to rage and scream at them, to tell them how awful it had been, being completely alone, alienated on all sides for an entire school year. She was really…quite angry, and she was surprised by it.

But she didn't want to unload all that on them now, and leave the school year off on a sour end.

So Hermione smiled. "The best."

Harry and Ron gave her beaming smiles, before turning and exiting the hospital wing.

As soon as they left, Hermione allowed herself to tense, her gaze roving the room. "You can remove the disillusionment charm. I know you're there."

Without a sound, the charm dissipated, revealing Draco standing in the corner of the room.

"Did you think that after being on the other end of your wand for a better part of year," Hermione said quietly, "I wouldn't be able to recognize your magic?"

Draco looked at her expressionlessly. Then, he walked forward and took a seat in the chair beside her bed, leaning back into it with the lazy elegance of a lounging feline.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her eyes focused sharply on him.

Draco picked up one of the chocolate frogs that been in a get-well basket, and examined it with bored eyes.

"Are you…suicidal, mudblood?" Draco drawled, picking apart the wrapping.

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed, "No. What are you even ta—"

Then she remembered the last time she had seen him, and what exactly had happened.

"Are you still hung up on that?" Hermione laughed, with forced bravado, "It's what we 'foolish' Gryffindors do. Don't think too much on it, Malfoy, really—"

Draco tilted his head, his face almost bored. "Don't feed me that bullshit, mudblood. You hate me enough to kill me, and Merlin knows that I've tried to kill you."

His eyes sharpened then, and he leaned forward. "Shall I tell you something? Normally," he said softly, "I would suspect ulterior motives, but even you couldn't have anticipated the basilisk's movements. Plus, to the rational mind, the obvious risks would have outweighed any possibly reaped benefits. You would have seen this, if the plan had been preconceived, which means that it wasn't. Your decision was born from impulse. Now, the only question to be asked, is what made you do it?"

"I told you before, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, fists tightening, "I don't know—"

"Don't tell me 'I don't know,' mudblood," Draco murmured, leaning forward so that face was right in front of hers. His voice was almost a whisper. "Somewhere in that head of yours, you have an answer, and I want it."

"Well," Hermione hissed, eyes narrowing, "you'll just to wait then, Malfoy. Indefinitely. Because even if I did know, I certainly wouldn't tell you."

Draco pulled back, a careless smirk on his face. "I have five years to get it out of you, let's see how long you last."

Hermione glared as the other turned around and headed towards to the door. Thinking he was leaving, Hermione began to stretch her sore muscles, when suddenly, he stopped. Hermione froze, her eyes wary as she watched all his muscles suddenly tense, volatile, electrifying magic flooding the room.

"Malfoy," Hermione growled warningly.

Draco turned his head back, not fully, but enough so that Hermione could see half his face. And what she saw made her tense even further. The picture of cool, disinterest had shattered, revealing a terrifying expression of murderous rage on Draco's face that told her exactly how angry the other was.

"You don't get to die without my permission. Remember that."

And then he left.