Summary: Draco Malfoy thought he knew everything he needed to know about Hermione Granger. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, but it might well change their destinies.

Disclaimer: Although I won't claim to be wholly certain of anything, to the best of my knowledge, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter & Co., not I.

Mutant

Chapter Three

As Draco thought of the implications, Voldemort continued, "We will need Hermione Granger to further our cause. For that, we will need her here as soon as possible. You, Draco, are charged with the task of retrieving her."

"Yes, my lord." Draco withheld a groan. This was going to be a real pain.

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Hermione Granger sat, as ever, beside Harry and Ron at breakfast on Saturday morning. This particular morning, however, she was poking at said breakfast with her fork as her companions busied themselves with shoveling their own food into their mouths while attempting to carry on a conversation. She rolled her eyes and blinked sleepily. Leave it to them to not notice her late return from the library the night before.

Hermione had woken (or, rather, come to), in a niche in the wall on the way back from the library. Glancing at her elbow, she theorized again that she could have blacked out the night before, although she didn't remember feeling lightheaded. If she'd hit something sharp on the way down, which wasn't impossible in the dark corridor, it would explain the cut. It didn't explain how she ended up in the niche, but she figured that someone might have tripped over her in the corridor and moved her to prevent others from doing the same. It wasn't a great explanation, but it was as much as she could fairly rationalize without further information.

Hermione left the Great Hall with the boys, having consumed no more or less than two sausages, a piece of toast, and several sips of orange juice. As they boys went off to practice quidditch on the field, Hermione made her way across the grounds to a favorite plane tree near the lake. Sitting up against the tree, Hermione found her place in Origin of the Wizard and began to read.

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Yet disgruntled, Draco emerged again on Hogwarts grounds. Glancing once at the strange portkey, he started back to the castle. Walking by the plane tree, he almost missed the figure sprawled at its base. Hermione Granger, it seemed had fallen asleep reading. He couldn't be sure how long she'd been out for, but decided against testing her. "Stupefy," he whispered. Certain that she was fully unconscious, he moved to pick her up. Her book fell, as he ought to have known it would. Picking it up, he noted the title and figured that it might well come to be of even more use to her in the near future. Securing the volume in one hand, he picked up the sleeping girl and set her against his shoulder. Returning again to the porkey, he tightened his hold on both before grabbing hold of the suspended hat.

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When Hermione awoke, she found herself in an apple-green queen-sized bed in a large, pale-grey room. Looking about her surroundings, she found a tall blonde woman shifting an ebony-black desk into the far left corner of the room. On the right wall adjacent to that against which the bed was set, a large closest was to be found. Against the wall to the left of the bed stood a dresser that must have matched the desk, and, looking behind her, she guessed that the headboard must have been included in that set.

When the woman turned, Hermione sat up. "Excuse me," she said, "but what am I doing here? For that matter, where is here, exactly?"

"You're at Malfoy Manor," smiled that woman who must have been Narcissa Malfoy herself.

"Oh," responded Hermione, feeling about for her wand. She frowned, finding none.

"Draco will explain everything in a moment," Narcissa assured her before leaving.

Settling herself back into the bed, Hermione stared at the ceiling for several minutes before she heard the door open again. A familiar cherry trunk floated in, followed by Draco Malfoy. Draco settled the trunk against the foot of the bed. "It doesn't really match, does it?" he asked.

"Would you mind explaining something to me, Malfoy?"

"What would you like to know?"

"I don't know, maybe 'What am I doing in your house?' or 'What are you doing with my trunk?'"

"I'll have you know that it was no piece of cake levitating the damned thing down the stairs of the Gryffindor girls' dormitories without being caught."

"Really? That's a shame." Pausing, she added, "How did you get--"

"How did I get into Gryffindor? Invisibility cloak, obviously."

Hermione blinked. "No. How did you get into the girls' dormitories?"

"Oh. Girls' shoes."

"Wow. I never would have guessed."

"As for what you're doing here, it's been decided that you'll be needed to further our cause."

"Oh, okay." Hermione nodded. "What?!"