Hermione glared at the dresses in her closet. She'd never spent any time with her father, yet he knew enough about her to know that she would love every dress. Which made it all the harder for her to pick one. There was a small tap at the door.

"Miss?" A girl's voice came from the door.

"I'm in the closet."

The girl peeked around the corner. She had long blond hair and a plainly attractive face. She smiled at Hermione. "G'day, Miss. I'm to help you prepare for the ball."

"No house elves then?" Hermione asked.

"Nay, Miss. T'was messy business when Mr. Potter started freeing them. Hard to get them to take orders."

"So, now he's recruiting humans?" Hermione asked the girl.

"No, my father's a Death Eater. He decided I should help you."

"What's your name?"

"Sonja, Miss."

"Just call me Hermione, please?" Hermione asked. "I could really use a friend."

"Of course…Hermione."


Draco glared at the robes in his closet. None of them would look good on him…because all of them were just black. Plain, ugly black. He flopped down onto the bed.

"Draco," a harsh voice spoke from the other side of the door. It was Voldemort.

Draco opened the door.

"My Lord," he said quietly.

"Oh, no need to pretend. We carry on airs simply for the benefit of your father." Voldemort sat down in one of the chairs by the fire. "Sit, please."

Draco sat.

"I want to talk about my daughter."

"If this is the 'hurt her and I'll kill you' speech, I don't need to hear it. I have no interest in her…really."

"You're lying."

"Hey! Not fair!" Draco stood up. "No reading my mind!"

"Sorry, old habit. Anyway, the prejudices your father burdened you with are terrible. But you must learn to let go of them. Hermione isn't a Pureblood, Draco. But she obviously isn't Muggle-born either."

Draco sat down again, slowly.

"I wish to speak with you of the future."

"If I have one."

"That's the point, really. My…absence has made me realize a great many things. The causes I was fighting for now seem pointless. The people I killed…are curses. Tormenting me. No less than I deserve, I assure you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm giving up. There are new villains now, Draco. Closer to home than you could possibly imagine. You've been told, of course, that some of the Death Eaters were even more dangerous than I? This is true. The times are changing. The fear of my name is waning…the way I want it. I want my daughter to have a full life. I don't want her to have to hide because of my mistakes, she's only a child. She'll need your help when her secret comes out. I'm depending on you, Draco." Voldemort spoke quietly, wanting Draco to understand.

"What can I do?" Draco asked. Not because he was a servant, but because he cared.

"Hold out your arm."

Draco held up his left arm. With a sweep of his wand, Voldemort removed the Dark Mark.

"I will not use bullying any longer. I'm leaving tonight. I've discussed the matters with the right people," he gave Draco a look that clearly said 'Dumbledore'. "I hate to sound cliché, but this is your mission…should you choose to accept it."

"You want me to help Hermione…and get rid of the Death Eaters."

Voldemort swept up from the chair and towards the door.

"You're a bright boy, Draco. No matter what your father says." He turned back before shutting the door behind him. "I believe my daughter will be wearing silver, so the black should do quite nicely."


"I'm going to need a favor, Sonja." Hermione had picked a dress and stood in front of the mirror. "I picked the dress that was the least…Hermioneish. I need a decoy, for Malfoy." She pointed to a silver dress on the bed. "If you'd be so kind?"

"Of course, Hermione!" Sonja exclaimed, clearly ecstatic. "I wasn't invited to the ball!"

"Why?"

"Father doesn't want me there. He doesn't want me to…" she trailed off.

"He doesn't what?"

"I can't say," Sonja stood up rapidly. "I must be going."

"Your father doesn't what?" Hermione demanded.

"He doesn't want me to get hurt…"

"What's my father planning?" Hermione shouted.

"It isn't him! Your father's been kind! It's the others, they're taking over. Tonight…at the ball. They want to kill him…and you, now. They didn't know he had a daughter." Sonja began crying.

"What are they going to do?" Hermione had begun crying also.

"It's a spell for power." Sonja seemed to draw strength from her tattling. "My father's a cruel man, Hermione. He's greedy and deceitful. They're going to sacrifice Voldemort and Draco."

"Malfoy? Why Malfoy?"

"Because Lucius wants the power. He has to prove that he's willing to do anything it takes. It takes his only son."

Hermione shut her eyes tightly. If she was going to save her family…if she was going to save Draco. She was going to need help.

She was going to need the Order of the Phoenix.


Hermione looked at the ten envelopes in front of her. Five were addressed to headquarters. One to Harry, Ron and Ginny. And two to Dumbledore…just in case.

"You're sure this will work?" Sonja asked. "You're sure they'll come to help?"

"Nope."

Hermione picked up some Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. Emerald flames licked the top of the brick. She threw the letters in. Instead of burning into ash, they disappeared. Along with the flames.

"Hermione?" Draco called from outside the door. "You ready to go?"

Hermione let out a gasp of surprise. Quickly, she waved her wand over Sonja, hiding her face with a silver mask. Sonja's long, blond locks curled into a bun and turned a dark brown.

"I'll meet you down there, okay? I'll find you somewhere." Hermione pushed Sonja towards the door. "If you kiss him, I'll kill you."


"Hi," Draco said. He had on a black dress robes, his face was half-hidden beneath a black mask. His silver locks were loose over his forehead.

"Hi!" Said Sonja brightly, surprised to hear Hermione's voice coming from her.

"You ready?"

Sonja nodded.

Hermione heard them walk down the hallway towards the ball room. She gave herself the once over in the mirror. Her dress was dark brown tulle with a handkerchief bottom lined at the bottomwith pink ribbon. Her mask was the same pale pink. She'd straightened her hair, curling the bottom slightly, but otherwise showing no sign of being Hermione Granger.

A gold flame erupted in the center of the room, Hermione jumped back against the wall. A single red feather lay in the middle of the floor.

"Finally," Hermione breathed before running from the room.