A/N: Lots of re-writing went into this one. Hope you like it. =)


"You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul." - Jar of Hearts, Christina Perri

Chapter 7 – Window to the Soul

Hermione awoke the next morning to Crookshanks licking her cheek. For a moment she thought she was back at home, but when her eyes finally blinked open, she realized this was not her room and today—today was the first day of classes!

She threw off the covers, nearly knocking Crookshanks off the bed, started scurrying to the bathroom while examining her watch—and then slowed, exhaling deeply. She hadn't overslept, then. She walked into the bathroom and had to squint against the brightness of the marbled room. The only splash of color was from an emerald towel, which hung over the shower, apparently drying.

Had Malfoy already left? No way. Hermione looked back at her watch and frowned. It was half after five in the morning. Where would he be this early? she thought. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was a little shocked, not realizing how early Malfoy apparently woke up. Breakfast isn't served until 7:00, anyway. She pushed him out of her mind and settled into the bath, announcing out loud that she would like the 'Hydra Wash.'


The Great Hall was buzzing with sleepy chattering and the clanking of plates and glasses. The ceiling, foggy and heavy, reflected the outside sky. Hermione had just finished a large ration of eggs and toast when the owls swooped down from the ceiling to deliver the morning mail. A large tawny owl landed in front of her, carrying a copy of the Dailey Prophet. She paid the owl and buried her face inside just as Harry and Ron came tottering down Gryffindor table, looking every bit like a zombie. She gave them a rough grunt of acknowledgement when they sat down.

"So it was that bad huh?" asked Harry, glaring at the Slytherin table while spooning eggs onto his plate. A few pieces of egg landed on his lip and he scowled. "Where is the git, anyway?"

"He was gone when I got up this morning," Hermione replied, without looking away from the prophet.

"Who cares?" Ron sounded irritated for some reason and started stabbing pancakes with a fork, slapping them on his plate. "He's probably snogging Parkinson somewhere."

"Or," said Harry, his voice dropping low, "maybe he's working on his mission. You know…for the Death Eaters."

Ron spit pumpkin juice and began to laugh. "Are you mad? Malfoy, a Death Eater? D'you realize what you're saying?"

"You didn't hear him, Ron," said Harry, sounding tired and irritated at the same time. Obviously he had told Ron about the incident on the train, and obviously Ron was not impressed.

"Did you ever think maybe he was showing off?" Ron brought his voice to a whisper. "Harry, You-Know-Who wouldn't let a sixteen year old join. That's insane!"

"How do you know?" Harry's voice had risen; Hermione shushed him and nudged him until he lowered it. "It makes sense, though. His father is locked up so now he's going to replace him. What if Voldemort needed someone here?"

Ron spit his juice out again and this time Hermione actually hit him in the shoulder.

"Harry, keep your voice down!" she hissed. Ginny had looked over at his outburst. She eyed Harry suspiciously before continuing her conversation with Dean.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time he wanted someone here," Harry went on stubbornly. "I expect it'll make it a bit easier for him to do me in with someone on the inside."

Hermione frowned. "Harry please. I think Ron's right. He was probably showing off for Pansy. You know how he is."

Did he, though? she thought immediately. Did any of them really know Draco Malfoy? The more she thought about it, the odder the situation sounded. Boasting about being a Death Eater was a huge lie to let on. Malfoy was a lot of things—and trying to make himself sound more important than he is definitely wasn't below his standard— but was he bold enough to make up something like that?

Harry only let the issue die after Ron and Hermione tactfully stuffed their faces so much they couldn't talk. Instead he reached into his robes a little roughly and pulled out a large scarlet badge with a golden "C" embroidered on it. He twirled it in his fingers, still looking a little put out.

"It's so exciting you're Captain, Harry," said Hermione impressively, trying to lighten the mood.

"So when's tryouts, Captain?" asked Ron, smiling widely through bits of egg; Hermione was about to be sick from eating so much.

"No idea," said Harry.

Hermione looked up and saw Professor McGonagall walking towards Gryffindor table. Since they were in sixth year now, Professor McGonagall had to review their O.W.L. results in order to make sure everyone was qualified to take on their desired N.E.W.T. classes they had chosen last year.

"A word, Miss Granger," said McGonagall, indicating for them to sit at the less crowded end of the table. Hermione still felt a little embarrassed about what happened with Pansy, so she hung her head a little as she took a seat.

"I presume you are settled well?"

Hermione gave a noncommittal nod. McGonagall seemed pleased Hermione hadn't lashed out in rage over the living situation. She placed two pieces of parchment in front her on the table; one with writing, one completely blank.

"I'd imagine you wish to continue in Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration?"

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione. "I'll have to drop Care for Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies."

"Very well, you are cleared," said McGonagall, waving her wand toward the blank parchment, as it began to fill with Hermione's new schedule.

Hermione nodded and began to rise from the table when McGonagall placed a hand on her wrist softly. She gazed at the old professor and saw a face lined with worry and concern.

"Miss Granger," said McGonagall in a quiet voice, "I know this situation is difficult to accept but Professor Dumbledore believes uniting Gryffindor and Slytherin may be more beneficial than you can imagine."

Hermione hardly thought Draco Malfoy was the voice for all of Slytherin and said, "He's only one Slytherin, Professor."

"And Harry Potter is only one Gryffindor and look what he's accomplished," said McGonagall. She tilted her face down, peering at Hermione over thin rimmed spectacles. "And the same can be said for you, Miss Granger."

"I'll try, Professor."

"Good," said McGonagall, standing up. "It is imperative that you do."

Hermione smiled weakly and glanced at her schedule. She had Ancient Runes first with—ugh, she thought—the Slytherins. She made her way back to Harry and Ron, as McGonagall was now speaking with a very nervous looking Neville.

"Taking twenty classes this year, are we?" asked Ron, peering at Hermione's schedule.

"Funny, Ron." She made a face at him. "I'm afraid we broke all the timeturner's last year, so no. I better get going to Runes, though. See you all later."

"You still have fifteen minutes!" Ron protested, but Hermione was already flying out of the Great Hall. She prided herself in being the first to arrive in each class on the first day. Professors noticed that kind of thing, of course.

Ancient Runes was located on the ground level near the Transfiguration Classroom, so the walk from the Great Hall was not far. Hermione opened the door and saw old Professor Vector shuffling a pile of papers together at her desk.

"Good morning Professor Vector," Hermione greeted. "Did you have a nice holiday?"

Professor Vector smiled sweetly, her dark blue eyes nearly lost in an abundance of wrinkles. She wore heavy robes, pulling down her long face, making her look like a wilting plant.

"Yes dear," Vector replied. "It was lovely but rather a bit too quick for my liking. And yourself?"

"It was fine," said Hermione. "I did a lot of reading actually. I really wanted to discuss something I read about the Egyptians on Chapter Twelve. Did they really u—"

"Hermione, my dear!" Vector let out a raspy chuckle. "Let us wait until we reach Chapter twelve before we begin to discuss it."

Hermione blushed and took a seat in the second row. She felt a little anxious considering this was the first time she wouldn't be in classes with her usual classmates. They were in N.E.W.T.'s now, which meant classes comprised of sixth and seventh years. Hermione hardly knew any of the seventh year Gryffindors. Maybe Katie was taking this class.

Ten minutes later students began to file through the doors. Hermione hastily stacked her books and papers over and over, spreading them slightly onto her neighbor's desk. She would rather sit alone, she decided, and wanted to indicate that fact by crowding her area. The chair next to her skidded across the tile, making her wince. She glanced up hesitantly to reveal a blond haired boy, scowling so harshly it might become permanent.

Hermione gave the loudest internal sigh that might have come out externally.

"Honestly Malfoy, couldn't you sit anywhere else?" she asked, annoyed, as she gestured around the room. But her gesturing slowed, and her hand dropped limply. There were no other seats available and there was also no Katie.

"Obviously, Granger, all the other seats are taken." He brushed her papers off his desk roughly, causing them to fly in all directions. "Get these off my desk."

Hermione scowled, snatching up her papers. "But how're you in here? I mean, this is N.E.W.T. level." she clarified.

"Wow, perceptive Granger," said Malfoy. "Clearly I'm not as dim witted as you seem to think I am."

"I didn't say…I was just shocked…that's all." Hermione blushed, frustrated, as she turned away to face Professor Vector.

"Good morning class," said Vector warmly. "As you know, this year we are preparing for N.E.W.T. level examinations. You will be asked to make many difficult translations and be able to recognize different runes from the ancient Germanic Alphabet. As we recall, runes are simply a symbol written thousands of years ago, a symbol with meaning that we must learn to decipher."

She picked up a stack of parchment, wrinkled fingers curling around the edges. She smiled and went on,

"Today we will begin by attempting to read possibly the most difficult rune of all—" she paused for effect "—ourselves."

The class stirred. Hermione had no idea what Professor Vector was talking about, not recalling this from any of the first several chapters. Perhaps she had overlooked it? She quickly opened her book to find the relevant chapter when Professor Vector chuckled.

"Hermione, this lesson will not be found in your book."

Hermione frowned. Malfoy shifted in his seat, covering his mouth to hide his smirk. She did not miss it. She shot him a look of death before giving Professor Vector a weak, apologetic smile, even though on the inside she was panicking. They were veering off schedule already; what if they don't get through all the chapters before the end of the year?

"Firstly, please direct your attention to the person beside you," said Vector, oblivious to Hermione's torment. "This will be your partner for the first part of term."

Some of the class groaned. Some sounded pleased. Some, like Hermione, resisted the urge to run into the wall and render themselves unconscious. Was she ever going to get rid of Malfoy?

"Introduce yourselves," Vector went on. "You will need to become acquaintances; part of your grade will depend on each other."

Now this was going too far. Hermione's mouth dropped in indignation. Her grade? Her grade would depend on Malfoy? What did she do to deserve this punishment?

Hermione's hand shot in the air, ready to protest, but the professor waved her off.

"Group work is essential in translations," said Vector. "Gaining second and third opinions. Please take the next ten minutes or so to answer the following questions about your partner." She waved her wand, and the parchment she had been carrying soared onto the students' desks. "Write your answers on the parchment, so I know it was completed. You will receive full marks for the assignment upon completion. Begin."

Hermione stared at her parchment, hoping it would answer itself. Three minute went by and it seemed the parchment wouldn't be cooperating. She sighed. There were only six questions. How bad could it be? She turned to Malfoy, who was scowling at Vector. Apparently he was about as happy as she was.

"Let's get this over with," Hermione grumbled, scanning the first question. "Wha—"

"What's your middle name?" Malfoy interrupted bluntly.

"Such manners you have. Mine's Jean. Yours?"

Malfoy snorted. "Abraxas."

She shot him a nasty look. "What's so funny?"

"Jean is so filthy," said Malfoy with a shiver. "So Muggle."

"It's after my dead grandmother," Hermione snapped at him. "I can see how you'd find humor in that."

"Obviously I didn't know that, Granger," Malfoy snarled.

Hermione tried to control her smile. Jean was actually her mother's middle name, not her grandmother's. And neither one of them were dead, but Malfoy didn't need to know that.

She wrote 'Abraxas' on her parchment and moved on to the second question.

"Okay, number two…you're in Slytherin…don't need to ask that. Number three…Oh! This is interesting." She sat up a little straighter, a little curious to hear his answer. "What spell would you like to learn more about?"

"Calm down, Granger," said Malfoy, quirking a brow. "People might think you're enjoying yourself."

She remained silent, waiting for his answer while thinking of her own. After a minute went by, Malfoy sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"This is stupid, Granger."

"I don't care!" She snapped. "I'm not losing easy points because you think it's stupid. We have to work together whether we like it or not and I will not accept anything but an 'Outstanding' on my exam." She could feel the stares of the students around her but she refused to back down. "Now answer the damn question!"

"The Cruciatis Curse," he finally said, a challenging note to his voice, as though he only said it to catch her reaction.

Hermione stared for a moment, her expression locking into something bleak. When it was clear he was not joking, she nodded awkwardly, wanting to move on to the next question.

"And let me guess yours," Malfoy went on, "the Densaugeo Charm? I was under the impression you enjoyed your teeth being modified."

"Actually," said Hermione, feigning sweetness, "I was trying to remember what Crouch used on you to turn you into a ferret."

"I'm putting the Densaugeo Charm," he said threateningly.

"You do that." She gave an annoyed huff and read the next question. "Best friend…is it Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Neither."

Hermione looked up. "What?"

"Don't act so surprised. It's not like you know me, Granger," said Malfoy. "Blaise Zabini is my best friend."

No, she supposed she didn't, but she couldn't recall a time of ever seeing Malfoy with Blaise Zabini. It was always Crabbe, Goyle, or Pansy. Speaking of Blaise, he too was in this same very class, which brought up a point.

"Then why aren't you sitting with him?"

"Clearly, because Daphne is sitting there."

Hermione glanced into the direction of Blaise. Sure enough, Daphne Greengrass, a sixth year Slytherin with long dark hair and deep set blue eyes sat next to Blaise. She was leaning toward Blaise, a little too close for normal comfort, and continuously bat her eyes so much in his direction, that Hermione thought her lashes may stick together. Daphne was gorgeous, of course, but Merlin was she fake.

"And yours is," said Malfoy, sitting back leisurely in his seat, "the chosen one…the blood traitor…or the blood traitor's sister?"

Hermione stared at him. "You are horribly offensive."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Harry," she answered. "If I had to choose, I'd say Harry."

"What a bloody surprise." He scribbled it down on his parchment. "What's your dearest ambition? Reading every book ever written in Britain?"

Hermione sat back in her desk, thinking hard, ignoring his comment. This was a tough question. She wasn't sure she had a single dearest ambition, but one certainly stuck out.

"For good to overrule evil in this world." She dared herself to ask, ready to accept his sure to be awful answer about Muggleborns and Muggles. "And yours?"

"For my family to be normal again," he said so quickly, the comment seemed to take him off guard as well as hers. He sat forward, elbows pressed on his knees and said, "What was that?"

Hermione just stared at him, her quill slacking in her hand. For a moment, Malfoy seemed to be somewhere else, caught in a memory or dream. Despite everything, Hermione couldn't help feeling slightly sorry for him as she remembered his mother in Diagon Alley.

The moment only lasted a few seconds.

"Stop looking at me like that," he snapped at her, anger now rising in his face.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, copying down his answer. She needed to stop feeling sorry for the stupid ferret. "Last question...we have to describe each other in five words."

She bit her lip, trying to think what to say. Should she be rude or honest? It was a tough call, though with Malfoy, honesty and rudeness seemed to be a blurred line. Anything she said truthfully about him would likely sound rude.

He spent next to no time on the last question. With a wave of his wand, the parchment soared to Vector's desk. Hermione huffed dramatically; she wanted to see his answer, no matter how mean it might be.

Five words? she thought. Well, 'determined' is definitetly one. How about rude, selfish, self-absorbed prat? No, I suppose I shouldn't write that. 'Smug.' Yes, that's not too rude. What else…well he's 'witty,' though I don't like admitting it. And he's 'stubborn.' Gosh, I actually sound somewhat nice. This is mad….okay one more.

She looked at him from behind her curtain of wavy curls. She thought suddenly of Diagon Alley, and his mother, who was hurting because of something he was going to do. Hermione wrote the final word, 'loyal,' on her parchment. He may be loyal to the wrong people, but he was committed none the less.

The rest of the class finished within minutes, and Vector stood up and smiled.

"I hope you learned something about your partner. For our next assignment, you will come up to the front of the classroom, without your wand."

This time almost everyone in the class groaned. Magic without wands was a very difficult feat. Possible, yes but Hermione had only seen Dumbledore do it. Surely Vector wasn't going to ask them such a thing?

"The window to the heart and soul is through the eyes," said Vector. "The eyes show more emotional than anything else on our bodies. Aside from using Legilimency, the only way to seek an emotion or memory from another is to be connected emotionally. I have just allowed you to pour part of your emotions to your partner, though you were unwillingly doing so."

Hermione had to hold back a snort. Vector sounded too much like Professor Trelawney.

"Allow the magic in the room to sweep over your senses. Let your guard down and open your hearts. So very often we forget that magic lies within us, not just in our wands." She paused a moment before continuing.

"I want you to read your partner like you would a rune, by reading their eyes. Tell us what you saw and felt. Describe it in a single word. First up, Mr. Parker and Miss Jenson."

This is going to be so awkward and horrible, Hermione thought, mentally slapping herself in the forehead. As if the questions weren't enough.

Oliver Parker and Margaret Jenson stood facing each other at the front of class, both serious and solemn. Hermione felt the atmosphere of the room change, wondering whether or not Professor Vector was doing it for effect. She could have sworn she heard Vector mutter something in another tongue. How odd.

After a few moments of intense gazing, as though each were trying to burn the other on the spot with their eyes, Oliver turned to look at Professor Vector, who nodded.

"Contentment."

Everyone turned to face Margaret who replied, "Nervous."

Nothing too exciting happened from there on out, but the intense feeling of the room continued. Blaise Zabini had said to Cormac McLaggen from Gryffindor, "coward," when asked to answer Professor Vector. Being called a coward was one of the foulest things a person could say to a Gryffindor. Cormac was a handsome, large, broad boy that Hermione made a mental note to never get on his bad side. His response to Blaise's comment was "Azkaban."

The whole room broke out into shouting. Both boys started to move forward with their jaws tightened and fists clenched—apparently ready to fight the Muggle way, wands forgotten.

Vector shouted, "Protego!" and the boys were instantly shot backwards. She took a few minutes to calm them down as she threatened them with a month's detention.

"We have our last pair," she said over the class once all was calm. "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, please proceed to the front."

Hermione got up hesitantly; dread filling every step she took toward the front of the room. Malfoy was standing, waiting, with his hands in his pockets. His deep, steel grey eyes were cold and unwelcoming. Sighing to herself, she relaxed her body completely and only focused on his eyes. Something in the air changed, like an electric current. Did anyone else feel it?

Malfoy's eyes, Hermione noticed, were like pools of icy water, frozen, but something burning and menacing brewing below the surface. They were clear, almost sparkly, like silver stars. If they belonged to anyone else, Hermione might have thought they were pretty, if maybe a little warmer.

The room faded along the edges, like burning paper, the longer she stared at him. There was something in those hollow, icy eyes that pinned her in place, like she was under his control.

Ridiculous! her mind screamed.

Heat rose to her cheeks. Heart pounding in her chest, she felt it tighten.

The intensity of Malfoy's stare was like nothing Hermione had ever experienced. She felt like she couldn't look away; in fact, she was sure she couldn't. Though his eyes certainly looked like ice, they burned like fire, but for all their coldness, what was brewing under the surface?

That was the puzzle here, she thought. Something was there, under the hardness of ice, she could see that now. Maybe it was because for the first time in her life she bothered to look. But it was cold and hard and not at all pleasant, something that froze it's way all the way to his soul, she thought.

His eyes aren't pretty, Hermione thought. They're cold and dead and lifeless.

When she finally ripped her gaze away, the classmates were huddled together, whispering. Blaise Zabini had his head tilted to the side, his mouth hanging slightly open, looking at both Hermione and Malfoy in contemplation. Cormac McLaggen was staring boldly, his hand stroking his chin like something you only see in the movies.

A little confused, Hermione looked back at Malfoy—and nearly jumped back. He wasn't looking at her, but at his feet, but that wasn't what surprised her. What surprised her was that she was standing very, very close to him. An arm's length away. How had that happened?

She took two steps back for good measure.

"I daresay the two of you have a history? There is a wild force between the lot of you," said Vector, her voice sounding again very much like Trelawney. "So very interesting…Well, tell me what you saw?"

"Trapped," Hermione answered at once, thinking of the storm hidden beneath the surface.

Malfoy was a little more thoughtful in his answer. He watched her, drawing out the moment, making her anxious. Hermione was sure he was thinking of the meanest, most horrible thing he could get away with. But when he finally answered, it was anything but insulting, and yet it felt ten times worse.

"Lonely."


A/N: Thank you for reading. =) Does anyone have any recommendations for Dramiones? I prefer good plots, adventure, action, with romance. Not a fluff fest. :P

Chichi: "Hey, cool story, your writing styly is really interesting, it's not so focused at Hermione and Draco like most stories are, but develops also another characters." - Thanks! I think plot is the most important thing in a story, as well as developing more than just the main characters. =)

Alenerien: "Although I kind of missed argument between Draco and Ron before they took off to their rooms." - I was reading it and thought I might have made Ron too hostile..Draco as well. :P There will be arguements don't worry..just more realistic ones.

midnight shadow of darkness: "I was a bit sadden to read when the story pointen out Dumbledore's blacken hand. Does that mean he will pass away like the book?" - I can't say..you'll have to wait and see! (By the way, great to meet another Zutara fan! I've written several for that genre if you want to check them out..The Black Games is my favorite)

E.C Silence: "I was wondering how much will the plot change from the actual sixth book?" - The main plot, not so much, because that's pretty central to the story. But the minor and subplots will be different since we're experiencing them through Hermione's point view. =)