As always, enjoy!

A/N down below

.~.

Let it Burn

Chapter Three

Unsuspecting Serpent

.~.

~*- Heed to the perfect warning lest you find something amiss-*~

Friday September 13th, 1996

Draco let their eyes roam over him as he stalked the halls and parted their masses. As he walked, the end of his robes bellowed behind him and he issued an aggravated his that pressed past his lips and sent his paramours scurrying the opposite direction. He stormed the path that he was sure that he had taken before. In his earnest, he was certain that they had travelled this way, but there was no way of knowing if the two had even come this way unless he cared to stop and ask someone if they had seen them. Unfortunately, no one had and the only thing that he had to go by was some scared little first year who almost shit himself when Draco asked him if he had seen Nott and Zabini.

The fuckers were going to get it.

In their earnest to find favor with him and help out a friend, they had finished his letter to Hermione and sent it to the witch with his owl. Although it was still early and breakfast hadn't been served yet, there was still a window of opportunity to find the blasted bird and snatch the letter before it dared enter the Great Hall. Once he does, he hoped that the two were far from the castle and grounds because he was going to shove his fist so far up their asses that they wished they hadn't tried to help him. But first, he had to find that fucking bird.

It was undeniably cold in the corridor. It felt like the entire enclosure had been casted in an eternal season of winter, and the only way to appease the gripping cold was to huddle together like frigid animals and pray that that encompassing coldness passed before death took him. This was not the sort of expression that normally lingered off the Serpentine corridor. Countless patrons have taught this cursed subject, many of them finding a means to their own ends, other facing the horrid face of death right in the face while their fears manifested in a scrawny little boy with a distinct lightening scar upon his stupid little forehead.

Draco seethed. It was too damn early to have to deal with him.

He didn't sleep so well last night, having finding sleep less alluring than it had been for weeks.

As he stood, his back against the wall, pansy clinging onto him like some horrid banshee, he reflected.

His mind was riddled with mystery. It was not what his mates had said to him, much less did that held his attention. It was the simple fact that what he was about to do in order to get closer to the Muggleborn that had him on edge.*

Theo had suggested it, of course. Blaise didn't put much of an effort to stop him. In fact, there had been an encouraging glint in the Italian's eye if he recalled correctly. Oh, yes. They both seemed to want to see how the little witch would react to the stunt that he was going to perform.

Quite tragically, he suspected. The goody little two shoes was far from being tainted, but this was going to question her prudent ways. He was about to turn he life upside down all in hopes of getting just a little bit closer to her. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy prayed that it didn't backfire on him and he was at the wrong end of the witch's wrath. He just needed to buy just a bit more time, get her to open up to him. Hopefully then, he would be ready to exploit her for all she's worth.

He recollected the conversation he had with his mates quietly. It was Blaise who brought it up but he hadn't thought about it since. When he did, he let his curiosity get the better of him and asked what he meant.

He arched a brow then elaborated. "I am talking about the Gryffindor Princess, of course. You are sure to cause quit the stir. She is not the least bit docile. She will loath you for what you are about to do to her."

"She'll get over it." He seethed. "You're forgetting that she won't be the only one who suffers."

"I don't know, mate," said Theo thoughtfully," it can't be that bad. I would love to have a night alone with the little lion cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing down tables. I'm sure all that hard work would do wonders for me, too. Imagine: Hermione Granger becoming too hot and taking off her robes, her delicious little-"

A hand caught him around the throat and his airway was immediately cut off. Stormy grey eyes locked onto his as a hiss forced its way from deep between his lips. He was seething with rage. Theodore clawed desperately at his hands, trying to get him to loosen his grip. Seconds ticked by, then a fully minute then two before Draco pulled away, dropping his hands while he watched his mate fall to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

"W-what the f-fuck was that-for?" he heeled over, leaning over his forearm as he tried to catch his breath. He could still feel the Heir's gaze on him. "Seriously, Draco. What the fuck?"

"Never," he stepped closer to him, kneeled down, pointing his wand at the Slytherin," talk about her like that again. Understood?"

Theo let out a howl of pain. He knew very well not to mess with him, but damn! How was he supposed to know that his little joke would go too far? He never seemed to care either way about the Mudblood until now.

It was a silly little thought, but he had to try.

"It seems," Theo coughed again," that you may be hiding something from us."

Draco considered his statement for a minute. "What are you saying?"

"Come on, Draco. I'm not stupid." He sat up, looking him dead in the eye. "Blaise would agree with me. You have a thing for Granger."

Almost on cue, like a curse, the witch came waltzing down the corridor holding more books than she could possibly carry. She looked flush and there was a slight tint in her cheeks that he's never seen before. Perhaps it was from the chilly hallway. Draco pondered this for a moment before turning back to Theo.

He was a fool.

He acted as if he knew him, but that could be farther from the truth. For years he's tried to justify his little obsession with the Muggleborn. For someone to call him out on it was more than he ever thought he could handle. It meant that he was weak, that he might as well have let his father down, gone against everything that his parents taught him. He was quite ashamed, but not for the reasons most Purebloods would be. He was ashamed because he couldn't be anything but a coward. He hid behind these feelings because he knew he couldn't act upon them and it hurt him greatly just thinking about what he was planning to do.

Would she find the heart to forgive him? Maybe. But, he knew Granger enough to know that it wouldn't be an easy task.

Nothing was ever easy for him.

Draco didn't want to think about what he had done to Nott, even if he did deserve it. He was just so nosy and the fact that he took his letter and was running around Hogwarts with it as a little trophy for all to see had him drowning with so much anger that he was afraid that he would explode if he didn't find him. He shoved apart anyone who stood in his way as he made it to the owlry, coming to a sudden halt. He pressed himself to the wall, looking over his shoulder and held his breath. There, he found something that he wished he hadn't.

Hermione was tending to an injured owl. If she hadn't been in the corridor, a whole family of them would be watching as she mended the owl's broken wing and petted the delicate pelt with her long, slender fingers. A frightened hoot and flutter of the good wing indicated that the owl was not pleased by not flying; he wished to soar, and that was exactly what the wish was hoping he could continue to do after he was healed. The owl was incredibly small; it couldn't be no bigger than the size of an orange and yet the tender creature was being helped by a witch that would go out of her way for just about anything and anyone because it was in her nature to do so. Draco watched, casted a disillusion charm on himself and remained silent.

"Oh, goodness." a voice that sounded a lot like one of the Pavarti twins stuttered," Thank you so much, Hermione! I was going to take her to Madam Pomfrey, but I didn't think she would take too kindly to helping me heal my owl. Mum would've killed me if she found out that Scril fell sick!"

The witch smiled at her. "Of course. I'm glad I was able to help you. And, if it's any consolation," she straightened, dusting herself off," Crookshanks has fallen sick on several occasions, but he always seems to recover nicely after some tender love and care. Animals just need time and patience and then they'll be on their way."

"You speak as if he gets sick quite often."

"He…" she searched for the right word," likes to get into a bit of trouble. He once ate something of Harry's and it turned out to be Bubbly Warball. He was hiccupping bubbles for weeks." She shared a laugh with the witch before adding, "You have nothing to worry about, Pavarti. Scril will be fine."

The witches gravitated away. Draco watched the exchange between them silently, his heart racing, his hands clenched together. He could feel the blood supply to his finger cut off and his legs lock up. He stood there contemplating for a while. During his reflection, Granger had disappeared and it took several frantic glances to make sure she wasn't anywhere in sight. The last thing he needed was her to find him and accuse her of stalking her. It was still early, and he didn't think she would take too kindly to a morning dose of his derogatory observations. Truth be told, he wasn't in much mood to be hexed by the little witch, either. He would rather keep his ass as it was along with his jewels.

He looked around the corner and just as he was sure that it was safe to move, a dark foreboding voice threatened the air.

"Granger," Nott drawled," I've been looking for you."

Theodore Nott strolled leisurely down the corridor, his hands in his pockets as he sucked on a cherry lollipop that he stole from one of his many admirers. Draco knew what that meant. He had shagged someone quite recently and she had been a Hufflepuff. Not exactly his cup of tea. Hufflepuff girls tended to be too clingy, but he was still enamored. If the sweet ache in his back had any indication of the tryst, it was the love bites that hide behind a glamor that surely did. He was sedated, for now. His real objective was to find a rather obsessed Snake who had ignored the calls of his concern.

A smirk played on his lips. It appeared as though he had found his target.

Hermione hadn't moved far. She was now standing down the hall and next to the next intersection of the corridors. The witch turned around, confused. Her eyes furrowed. He was the last person she wanted to see, or one of the last people. Although she didn't motion to move, the need to move played in her eyes, flashing obnoxiously as Draco moved to watch them.

"What is it, Nott?" Her voice didn't miss a beat. She was irritated.

"I've got something for you that I think you would be interesting in reading." He held up an envelope. Form where Draco stood, he could make out the creamy envelope and his heart quickened. It was his letter to her! The fucking bastard! "Am I correct?"

"It depends," she quipped.

"On what?"

"Who is it from?"

Nott chuckled. Draco knew that the wizard was thinking of him by the way his eyes twinkled knowingly. Although he rarely asked for their help, it was their damn snooping that got them into trouble. They never seem learn to keep their noses out of other people's business, especially his. Now, it seemed that Nott couldn't resist the sweet temptation of getting close to the witch and threatening the thing that he's been working so hard for.

He wasn't going to let him do that, though.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her eyes hardening.

"Well," she asked. "Who is it from?"

Nott fanned the letter on himself, alleviating whatever heat that had sudden caught between them. Draco noticed the act immediately and growled. It was as if the bastard was asking for trouble! It was always a pleasure teasing the little witch since she was always generous with her exaggerating outbursts. She was so easy to manipulate. He knew this otherwise, he wouldn't bother to encourage her. But there was no way that she would fall for his obvious acts of seduction. He could at least give her credit for not even acknowledging it, not that he thought she would.

"Don't' get your knickers in a twist, Granger, said Nott as he handed the letter that was pinched between his pointer and middle finger. "I don't know who it's from, so don't ask me again. You'll just have to find out for yourself."

Hermione frowned, but accepted the envelope anyway. Just as she was about to snatch it from his idle hand, he grabbed her wrist with his other and reeled her. She made a little sound that sounded like 'oomph" when her face collided into his chest. She wiggled about, but he kept her there for another second before pulling her from him and smiling.

"Wanted a little reward for going out of my way to deliver it to you," he murmured. "You're welcome."

"Thank you."

"I meant the hug. It's not every day I get to hug a little lioness" He chuckled. "Even if it is you."

Hermione blush flowered about her cheeks and she remained flustered even as she turned and scurried away in the direction where Draco was hiding. He ducked quickly, listening as the scraping of her shoes caressed the corridor floor. As she walked by, he caught sight of the letter and grimaced. He wanted it and was downright angry that Nott had given it to her personally rather than letting his owl do it for him. While he seethed, he thought back to the scene that he witnessed. She had been so loving, so careful. He wondered if she was as gentle with his owl because he always seemed to come back to him in higher spirits than he left. Even he was growing fond of her!

The Pureblood pinched the bridge of his nose. Not only was he swimming in his own anger, his testosterone was through the roof! He needed a deflating drought and quick, otherwise he would have to walk around with a raging hard on for the rest of the day. It wasn't because of any recent action he's gotten. It was because of a certain witch and her tenderness that made him want to…

…someone was standing in front of him.

He opened his eyes and the muscles in his face tightened. Theodore was smirking. A smirk worthy of praise, but a smirk no less.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" he launched himself at him but he dodge him.

Theo was rather quick on his feet and even quicker now that he had delivered his letter to Hermione.

"I was hoping for quite a performance from you today, Malfoy." He said as he tried to calm him down. "Fortunately for you, I've taken care of business."

Draco turned and glared at him. "By stealing my fucking letter to her? What in bloody hell were you thinking?"

He seemed confused, but was quick to erase any lingering doubt on his face. In fact, instead of a scowl, his features broke out in triumphant delight. It was as if he was waiting to run into him. He wanted nothing more to see him crumble and fall apart.

"That?" he laughed. "You saw that, yeah?

Draco didn't answer.

"It was a letter from Slughorn. He gave it to Blaise yesterday and he didn't have the chance to give it to her. Something about a gathering next week." Theo shook his head and laughed again. His voice rang out around him like a deep, low bell. He found the situation just that funny. "I can't believe you thought I gave her you letter. I wouldn't have given it to her. Granted, I thought about it but there were so many errors that I just couldn't take the humiliation of her reading it and grimacing at how atrocious your spelling is. She probably would have call off the entire affair if she realizes that her admirer couldn't spell. I would have loved to get a picture of it, though."

He was about to say something about Malfoys were great spellers when he stopped himself and frowned.

How could he have been so stupid to think that Nott had it? Speaking of his letter, where was it then?

"Keep your knickers together." Said Nott, calming down. "I don't have it and neither does Zabini. I do recall you folding it up and placing it somewhere. Most likely in your desk. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't read it all. Just the story bit. I didn't know you could tell stories. You're quite skillful with words."

"That was a private matter."

"So is masturbating, but nothing is more interesting than reading something that you've spent hours writing."

The Pureblood narrowed his eyes. So, he did read it!

"My statement still stands, Nott."

"Which one? The one about masturbating?"

"No," her growled murderously. "You better hope Zabini is more liberal or I'm going to have both of your asses on my mantle for the holidays."

He held a copious amount of anger toward him. He would have had a bloody heart attack, but at least he was saved form certain doom. Even if Nott was blistering with uncontrolled amusement, Draco was safe. He stepped back from the Slytherin, composing himself the best he could as he tried to make light of the situation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get over the fear of almost being found out. Granger was smart, he'd give her that. The fact that she hadn't figured out who was sending the letters was well beyond him.

As Draco turned on his heels and proceeded without a word to Nott, a funning feeling began to settle within him. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Where are you going?" Theo asked, trying to keep his strides with his. "We have class in thirty minutes."

"Common Room."

"Why on earth-"

"Just shut up, Nott. There is something I need to do before class. I'll see you later."

But Theo didn't leave. He just stopped and stared at him. Sensing his heated gaze, Draco stopped and turned to face him.

"What?"

"You know, she's going to figure it out eventually."

"I know. It hasn't escaped my knowledge, Nott."

Theo swayed from one foot to the other, his hands in his pocket. Of his friends, he was the least vocal. Zabini would have spit it out by now, and wouldn't have made such a huge scene. "What're going to do?"

Draco was silent for a moment. Then, he exhaled dejectedly and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't have time for this. He didn't know what he was going to do except make her hate him even more. As much as he loved that spark of rage in her eyes, he couldn't handle it if she were to sink more into the untouchable void that was hate. He needed to get out of here and quick. At least then he would have some leverage on what he was planning to do. With stormy eyes, Draco looked at Theo and exhaled.

"I'll just have to see." he said softly.

He was safe. That's all that matter.

She could feel his eyes on her. They seemed to have glued themselves to her body, their penetrating graces disturbing even her resolve. No matter where she went, Hermione couldn't get away from the seventh year Gryffindor and his excessive stalking. As she browsed the literature section of the library, he shifted from one side of the aisle to the other, flickering his eyes over to her until she had no choice but to put back the book she had been holding and move to the other end. He followed of course. It was in their nature to be very persistent.

Cormac McLaggen was a pretty boy. By some standards, he might as well be dropped dead gorgeous. His sand-kissed hair, smooth skin and piercing eyes made it fairly easy to fall for him. Hermione didn't buy his strong aura and dominating demeanor. The only that that she could account for was that he was very annoying and that she had to find a way to get away from him.

Hermione let the feeling of the spines of the books be her guide. As much of a nuisance as he was, she had found some solidarity peace in the tomes and ancient scriptures surrounding her. She walked slowly down the aisle, a smile caressing her lips. Some were thick with words, others only a few pages of knowledge, but they were books all the same. As she walked, she could hear McLaggen backing away, having given up his pursuit for her. He would be back. He always came back. Until then, however, she was left to breathe a sigh of relief. Who knew ignoring the predator would keep the prey safe?

She looked over her shoulder and sighed. One less thing to worry about.

Her destination was a mystery to her. The only thing she could rely on was that drifting wasn't as bad as one might think and that she had some support for a journey she has yet to take.

Sparrow are taken where the wind blows them. There is no set destination because they can make the best of a worst situation and still be able to invest a great deal of time and effort into enjoying their surroundings. Some find themselves in a whole new level they never imagined while others are left to question ever motive before they were brought to their destined placed. They were created to be heard and never seen. Their perspective in life is to enjoy it, and to make most of even given situation, small or big. Underappreciated, but truly remarkable.

You remind me a lot like them. The more we talk, the more I have come to understand the basis of your existence and how much your friends have taken advantage of you and how oblivious the other one is for not appreciating you and respecting you.

She's never placed a voice to the letters. With an imagination like hers, she suspected the sender would have a calm, respectable one and marked with no trouble or mirth. Sincere as his words were, she couldn't help but pair them up with a nice voice and alluring tone.

Hermione awoke that morning to a tapping on her dorm window . When she looked up from her pillow, she found the most beautiful owl waiting for her to open her window. In its beak was the reply from her secret admirer.

Although it had only been less than a day since she last heard from him, it felt more than that. Weeks that stretched on forever that was how long it felt to her. The eager witch hurried out of bed, grabbed her wand and swished it around in a quick attempt to clean up her mess before she let the owl in. Once she did, she hurried over the window, unlatched the lock, and opened it, allowing the owl to fly in, circle around the room, and land elegantly on the frame of her four-poster bed.

With little restraint, she was able to tempt him with a treat and she was able to retrieve the letter to which she opened too excitedly, her fingers trembling in the process.

It began with a story and she immediately became enthralled.

She walked back to where her books awaited, reminiscing something that could not easily be forgotten. She had taken Harry with her in hopes that he would find use of the morning but she had been mistaken. The dolt had a permanent smile plastered on his face and the girls sitting just a few tables away were giggling into their hands. They continued to look over at him until the domineering witch say down and shot a glare in their direction. The shut up instantly.

"Will you stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Smiling like that?" Hermione hissed. "You're encouraging them."

"Encouraging who?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. "Those Hufflepuff girls?" He waggled his eyebrows and she let out an aggravated sigh. "Or, the Ravenclaws?"

"All of them," the witch couldn't contain her lethal anger. "Will you please stop?"

Harry hadn't really been doing anything particularly offensive. He was only smirking wildly at the overzealous groups of girls that have been gawking at him since arriving at the library. It was the last day of lessons for the week, and one would think that he would want to settle down a bit, but no. He was milking his newly found popularity for everything it was worth. The worst thing about it was that he didn't even know why they were fawning over him! The oblivious fool!

Hermione was not gentle with her approach, either. For the last two weeks or so she's been trying to get him to see that they didn't like him for him, that they were acting on some dark enchantment that had somehow swept over most of the female population of the course of the start of the term. They girls were acting very raucously, like an animal set loose on the zenith of the month. It was disturbing to say the least.

"You know why they're acting like this, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm the Chosen One." He smirked, quickly earning a whack against the side of his head. "Ow! What was that for?"

Hermione only shook her head and proceeded to eat her breakfast. "You're insufferable." She breathed, taking a piece of parchment from her satchel and placed it on the table. She reached out for her favorite ink jar and let out an agitate sigh.

She could practically feel him smile, the stupid git. His profound cockiness was the least of her worries. Although it's only been a few days since Hermione had a falling out with Ron, it felt like an eternity since she's last seen him. She wondered greatly where he was…

After some time, the drones of the girl's that sat a few tables down glimmered to a sudden silence. Harry was presently bored and there were only about twenty minutes before the start of their first lesson. He might have a free period for now, and Hermione warned him that he should be spending his time more wisely, he was determined to use the allotted time for studying for something more genuinely entertaining. He only accompanied her to the library only to shut her up. He was reaping the consequences even as she studied.

"Hermione, please," he begged groggily as he wiped the drool from his mouth and pushed up his glasses so they wouldn't fall off his nose. "How much longer?"

"Just another minute." she said, biting her bottom lip and scanning her notes.

"You said that twenty minutes ago!" Harry banged his head against the table as he listened to the rustle of robes and the scrape of a chair. He learned fairly quickly not to trust the sounds; Hermione was dead set on checking over her essay for Ancient Runes and that she would not allow him to leave her side until she was done. It was almost supper time, and he wanted to get down to the Great Hall before all the good food was taken. At least before desert was served and the entire Hall was sent off to bed. But, she wasn't having it.

"Oh, shush."

"I swear to God, Hermione. I'm starving. It's entirely too early for this."

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to accompany me." The young witch said as she scanned the page that she was on.

"You threatened to zap my-"

Hermione stopped him mid-sentence. There was no need for him to repeat exactly what she had said to him. Merlin knew she wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment. She was still feeling awkward about it. She just needed to be alone with him, was all. Ron and took up quite a bit of his time and she didn't see why he couldn't spend some time with her. She was selfish, she knew. But it felt like she was losing not only one friend, but another as well. She was only trying to make it clear that he was free to speak to her despite the quarrel between her and Ron.

"How much lon- "

Hermione shot him a look and he immediately misplaced his voice.

With a frown, his chin met the cold wooden table and his forehead banged against its face.

She's been like this since the beginning of breakfast from which she dragged him from the convenience of lonely drifting so he could accompany her to the library for the remaining hour or so before her first class. Much to his dismay, he didn't want to spend the entire time pouring over tomes and reading until his eyes physically hurt when he would much rather partake in resting from the day's endearing exercises. Snape had not let him off easy, not that he ever expected the old dungeon bat to provide any leniency to his daily beatings and indirect insults. He had given them an essay right on the first day and it was due right when they walked into class today. One could dream, though.

Harry proceeded to look over his essay, much to Hermione's satisfaction. It still could use all the help it could get. As Harry scanned noncommittedly over the essay, Hermione let out a rather loud sigh and snatched the parchment. He smiled triumphantly. It was exactly what he was hoping for. Fifteen minutes passed, and she handed him the essay back, fully marked and magically transferred to a piece of parchment. She scolded at his lack of research, but he didn't care. She then proceeded to look over her own DADA essay.

"I-am-so-sick-of-this," he said in between banging his head gently against the table. "I'm literally begging you, Hermione. How much long- "

"Done!" she beamed excitedly as she tossed her parchment back onto the table. "I still have to look over it for any technical errors. I'm afraid I might have written down the wrong Rune, but- "

"Great," he told her dismissively, "you can do that later on your own time. For now, let's go. I'm starving and I know you are too."

Before she could protest, her stomach gave a soft rumbling, neglected sort of sound. She hadn't eaten all day and she could use a good meal before facing his doom.

Hermione giggled as she collected her things, stuffed them into her satchel and stood. As she pushed in her chair, Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her away from the table, through the aisle of books, and out the large double doors of the library. The pair walked in silence. Neither of them up for conversation when the idea of food was so fresh in their minds. Merlin forbid that Harry miss lunch, or wait a couple of minutes so she could look over her essay.

She hadn't kept him that long, has she?

What was a few hours to him, anyway? He would have spent the time feverishly, without understanding of the very idea of it at all. She was merely serving to a higher power and getting what she ought to out of it. Even if she was using that time to look up that darned charm for the birds!

Regardless, she submitted to her own need for food and drink. The charm could wait for another day, as always. She couldn't figure it out on an empty stomach, and he was just as excited to get down to the Great Hall and eat as he was, if not more. Just as they came to the landing of the staircase, harry grabbed her hand and hide her behind him. She collided painfully into his body and wall. Slapping her hand against his chest a couple of times earned her a glare but she was able to gift him with the same sort of pain that she was experiencing.

Her head hurt like hell and it was all his bloody fault!

"Why'd you do that?!" she cried.

"Shh!" he shushed her, peeking behind the wall and withdrawing back. "Someone's coming."

"Oh, you don't say?" she asked sarcastically. "If you hadn't noticed, this is a corridor. We are allowed to- "

"Quiet! They're coming!"

Just then the voice that she was unable to hear became clearer with the silence that Harry forced them to welcome. As they listen, Hermione came to realize that someone was coming, voices that instantly became familiar once they were able to listen to properly from their distance place.

"Will you two shut it?" hissed Malfoy as he came storming down the corridor with his two cronies following some distance behind him.

Crabbe and Goyle looked like they were in pain. Wherever Malfoy was leading them two was causing them to exert themselves to extremities that they clearly were not used to. Employed by the strict and rigorous activity, they began to pant and lose momentum. While Malfoy made it almost to the end of the corridor, they were left to cling onto the walls with all their might, breathing in gulps of oxygen as their large chests rose and fell with each intake of air.

"Come on, Malfoy!" whined Crabbe as he caught his breath. "Can't we just look for it after dinner?"

"So you two can stuff yourselves to the point of puking and complain about being sick?" he hissed with annoyance. "No, I don't think we will. I told you I need to find the room and you two are going to help me."

"Why can't Zabini and Nott do it?" Goyle insisted.

Crabbe nodded frantically, agreeing with his mate.

"Yeah, why didn't you ask them to help?"

Malfoy looked between them and gave them his trademark sneer. Stepping away from where Hermione and Harry stood with their heads tucked into each other's bodies, he walked right up to them, lowering his voice as to allow no one who happened to pass them to hear him.

"They have their own shit to take care of," he seemed to remind them for the last tolerated time. "Need I remind you who we work for?"

The sound of sleeve being pull up met their ears. Harry looked up to find Malfoy showing them something that was on his arm, frightening them into doing what he commanded. Scrunching up his face, he could scarcely make out what the blob of black ink.

Upon closer examination, he found that the tattoo resembled the slithering outline of a snake.

A snake.

With a quickening heartbeat, Harry pressed Hermione more firmly against his side, his eyes raising to meet the nasty little etching to Malfoy's skin.

The Mark of the Follower.

His legion.

They stood there for some time until they were certain that the drowned voices of the snakes were left to the hands of the wandering ghosts of the school. Harry pulled away slowly, watching Hermione's expression change quickly from startled prayer to that of confused indecision. She was fighting something, a choice with her mind and heart. She wanted to believe what she just saw, yet she wanted to refute it with everything she was worth.

It didn't take long for her resolve to break and the formidable capture of what she believed to flash across her impeccable line of vision.

"You can't be serious."

Hermione refused to see things for what they really were, much less hear what he had to say.

"Did you not see his arm?"

"I could care less about his arm, Harry."

"Are you serious?" he reiterated the same words in a different connotation. "He has the mark, Hermione. You can't stand there and tell me that you didn't at least see something on his arm."

"It could have been anything."

Why was she trying to find justification for him having the black ink in the first place?"

While Hermione did break away from the oath that she gave to the silence, Harry couldn't help feel that there was a darker meaning to her reasons to protect Malfoy and that she should tread carefully lest she find herself in a pit that should would be unable to crawl out of.

They walked in silence. Neither of them spoke even when they reached the tall doors of the Great Hall and sat down at their usual place at the Gryffindor table. As they tucked into a quick breakfast, piling their plates as high as they possibly could without finding sickening pleasure from what they were about to eat, the doors opened once again and in strolled Malfoy accompanied by Snape. He was dragging him by the sleeve of his robes, a scowl placed strategically on both their faces. They had been fighting, Harry knew. Otherwise they wouldn't be sporting small traces of bruises and cuts along their necks and hands.

"Must've caught him in the act," murmured Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, shush."

"Still denying what's right in front of you?"

"I'm not denying anything," she hissed. "I should be saying that to you!"

"Why is that?"

"You're obsessed, Harry." She breathed, watching as Malfoy was dragged further into the Hall and broke free from Snape's hold. Straightening his robes, he marched over to the Slytherin table to sat down in the middle of Zabini and Nott. Neither of them dared speak to him. "It's unhealthy."

"So is your relationship with this mysterious lover."

"Wh-what?!" she whipped around and gazed urgently into his eyes.

He did not falter.

"Something is going on with you as well, Hermione. God forbid you deny that, too."

"I-I-I'm not denying anything!" she confessed. "And, I do not have a lover! M-merely an epistoler, is all." "Whoever it is, you're in way too deep." Hermione bit her lip. Who was to say if she was in too deep, too involved with someone who may in return come to be the most influential person that has crossed her path? She was as sure as hell not going to deny that, if anything. It was her most treasured secret.

When her gaze turned to Malfoy, she couldn't help hear a calling that was true to one of her own. If he was keeping a secret just as she was, who was to say he couldn't protect it? Even if that secret wasn't all too good, it was worth shielding it from everyone else.

Of course, it was this type of reckless thoughts that was the most confining.

A/N: I am so terribly sorry for the delay y'all! D: I just started the semester and I was trying to get a feel for it. I have so much work to do this semester that it just isn't funny. 19 chapters! 6 of which are review for the floor. One thing is for certain, I will definitely go through the book a billion times before I go to State Board.

I'm taking Skin Care and Nails this semester. I know some asked in a review for Beauty is Beast. He/She left a lovely review, too. T.T why were you a guest?

I do have some exciting news :) My brother is going to propose to his girlfriend soon. Exciting, I know. Heartbreaking as well. I'm so so happy for him. And also so sad because my brother will have to move with her some time next summer.

Other than my petty excuses and that, there really isn't anything else going on. I do plan on updating on Tuesday again. I hope y'all know what might happen. ;) Draco has something up is sleeve. Lol.

See you soon!

Updated/edited version will come tomorrow :)

-Carolare Scarletus