And life is a road that I wanna keep going
Love is a river, I wanna keep flowing
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey
I'll be there when the world stops turning
I'll be there when the storm is through
In the end I wanna be standing
At the beginning with you

-Donna Lewis, At the Beginning

Disclaimer: The song above is not owned by me and nor are the characters in this fan fiction. The song belongs to Donna Lewis and the characters belong to Jo Rowling! Thanks to both of them for letting me lend their stuff! Oh, and the only thing that does belong to me is the plot.

A/N: Hello, I hope you like updates because you're looking at one right now! I know that sounds dorky, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. Anyways on to the story!

Chapter Six: The Prefects' Bathroom

Hermione and Draco sat under the oak tree in Hogwarts grounds. It was a cold day with the sun barely peaking out in the sky, the snow on the ground only slightly softer. The lake splayed out before them.

"So where do you think we should make the potion?" Hermione asked trying to make conversation out of the silence.

"Probably in the Room of Requirement," came his drawled reply.

"I've been considering it for a while and I think it would be better, if we made it in one of the Prefects' bathrooms." Hermione looked over at Draco to see his eyes watching her before she continued, "There'd be less of a chance of being caught because less people would know the password."

"What about the Prefects though?" He asked while he turned to see Hermione fingering the snow beneath her. She promptly looked up to meet his gaze.

"We are prefects our selves, you know. If we were to come across anyone we could make up an excuse." Hermione commented.

"Yes, but do we need anymore people getting suspicious? That's the real problem." Draco told her, pointedly referring to Hermione's encounter with Snape.

"Wherever we make the potion, you should know that we have a fair chance of being caught." Hermione retorted.

Silence was followed by this slight outburst. Both of them were a little taken-aback by her harshness. Hermione turned away from Draco her head leaning against the oak tree and closed her eyes not wanting to hear his reaction.

Draco gripped her shoulders and turned her around so she was facing him again. His expression was gloomy, Hermione observed, when she opened her eyes. For once he didn't say anything, but just stared at her straight on. His face became harder to read as the moments went by. The whole grounds seemed to be frozen in time, all of a sudden.

"That's true," He said, stiffly. Draco's hands were still clamped on her shoulders drawing them closer together than usual. He looks haunted, Hermione thought noticing how his light hair covered his eyes slightly and how he stayed so still. "Spies."

"I think you have forgotten that I've been friends with Harry Potter for six years now and he's a magnet for trouble. I think I can handle it." Hermione joked trying to lighten the mood.

Draco's right side of his mouth lifted upward creating a small, askew smile that didn't fully reach his eyes. Hermione's face was relieved.

"So when is the next full moon?" Draco asked.

Hermione's face turned calculating as she figured it out in her head; her brown hair covered a side of her face as she thought, "Twelve a.m. on Christmas, we have exactly fifteen days to make the potion."

Wait a minute, does this mean that we are going to make it in the Prefects bathroom or not?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"The Prefects bathroom will be fine, since you insist upon it."

---

Later on, that day, Draco sat in the vacant Prefect's bathroom. The ingredients were all gathered around him including: a cauldron (which would contain the potion of course) and the book with the potion directions in it. He picked up the Alligator skin and was just reaching for the grinder when he heard the door open.

Foot steps echoed throughout the vast lavatory coming closer each second. Draco fumbled hastily to hide all the evidence. One thought went through his mind at that moment: Just like I expected, spies for the Dark Lord, I bet it is Snape. He felt like he was being watched, he turned around slowly dreading to acknowledge Snape's presence.

Instead, much to his relief, there stood Hermione in her Hogwarts uniform an expression of hesitation on her face. She looked around the room for a moment taking in the attributes of the area. The lofty ceiling that was painted baby blue with puffs of clouds scattered among it, the mirrored walls created many reflections of her and Draco, the wooden counter held spotless sinks that gleamed in the light, further down was a large bath tub that looked more like a pool and to the right, there were cubicles for the bathrooms each with its own lockable door. What really caught her attention though was the marbled floor: it wasn't in tiles, it was like one huge slab, and the color was a light ocean blue that seemed to go flawlessly with the ceiling.

"I forgot how grand this room looked; I haven't been in here for years." Hermione said her voice echoing faintly. She sat down across from Draco and started putting all the supplies for the potion between them.

"At the Malfoy Mansion we have rooms even more exquisite than this one," was his apathetic response.

"I'm sure you do, but for those of us in the lower classes this is amazing!" Hermione said appreciatively while she gestured to the area surrounding her, the mirrors mimicking her movement. "But you've never really told me what it's like to live at the Malfoy Mansion."

"I'm not sure I could tell you that. I wouldn't know how to describe it that well."

There was a pause in the conversation as Hermione finished grinding the Alligator skin and put it into the cauldron. She then started on the next ingredient before finally speaking.

"Okay then, how about this: start at the beginning and tell me a little bit at a time. Then I'll do the same the next day."

Draco nodded in agreement, his face turned serious as he considered where to begin. "There has always been a definition to the name of Malfoy, as you know. Malfoys are the rich family that has it all, their allegiance lies with You-Know-Who and it always will, they believe anyone that doesn't have the same ethnicity, bloodline, doesn't belong in the wizarding society, much less on the face of Earth." He looked up to see if Hermione was offended by the latter, but her face was mellow and patient waiting for him to continue.

"This was the law in both public and at the stifling prison some would call home. I was brought up to be an heir of the Malfoy estate, to act as my father acted and nothing less. My mother was the quiet one, always cooperative, never the one to speak her mind. The exception was me. She could be strict, there was no doubt about that, but there was more to her than just that. She was optimistic, always trying to convince me that father wanted the best for me. That I could never believe. She was protective, making excuses when father went to last resorts to get me to do what he wanted. "

"What about your father? You haven't mentioned him yet." Hermione pointed out, just as she moved on to the seventh ingredient.

"My father, now he was quite the character. He always knew how to wheedle people into letting him have his way. He made sure to make friends with the most important people in the wizarding world, so he could use them to his advantage whenever the fancy struck him. He had two jobs, one as a Death Eater and the other at the Ministry of Magic. And you could just tell that he had planned all his strategies in life before he would even take action. But out of all of his carefully mapped plans one of them went wrong. Me."

By now Hermione had finished submitting the elements into the cauldron and was now stirring the potion. The green contents swirled like a whirlpool as she continued. Draco took a moment to watch her; she seemed to be thinking about his narration so far.

"You can't stop now, you know, or the suspense will drive me mad!" She said smiling earnestly.

Draco's mouth tugged at the corners and he began to laugh. Hermione had never noticed his laughter before, it was so bubbly that if felt contagious and Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from laughing along with him.

When he finally regained his breath he answered her comment, "I couldn't have told it that well." Nevertheless his mouth was curving into his oh-so-familiar smirk.

"And yet you did!" Hermione countered.

Draco looked down at his watch. "It's been two and a half hours, since we came in here. We should go."

Hermione took the cauldron and hid it in the cubby in the wooden counter. She conjured a key hole in the cabinet and a chain that held its key. Lifting up her hair she placed the chain around her neck. Draco watched her make her way to the exit, she turned around just as she was about to leave.

"I want you to meet me here at three o' clock tomorrow. Tomorrow's my day to start my story." Her eyes were serious waiting for his reply.

"Okay," Draco said and with that Hermione smiled and walked out the door.

---

Hermione sat in the Prefect's bathroom a half an hour early for their meeting. She had wanted to come here alone so she could consider what she could tell Draco about her life so far. Compared to Draco's life I bet mine will sound dreadfully tedious. Hermione thought.

She laid down on the icy marble gazing at the painted sky. Hermione just stayed there for a while, thinking back to memories in her life, and what they had meant to her. I remember how I used to be so scared to go to the dentists' office, when Mum and Dad would take me to work. Those dentist tools looked really threatening back then, especially the one used for cavities! Hermione couldn't help grinning at the image of her hiding underneath the dentist chair, her wild hair covering her face, while she tried to stay as still as possible so nobody would find her. I was five years old then.

Hermione heard the door open and sat up quickly. She reached for the chain around her neck and opened the cubby she had put the potion in yesterday. Draco came in and sat across from her, looking at her expectantly.

"It's your turn to stir the potion today while I tell the story." She stated shortly as she slid the potion within his reach and gave him the stirrer.

He said nothing as he began to do the blending of the potion. The silence was heavy with awkwardness.

"I don't know where to start."

"How about you start at the beginning?" He suggested, repeating what she had said the day before with a sly smile.

She grinned at the ease of what he had said. "Do you know what dentists are?" She asked, already guessing his reply.

"Not at all, as I've never experienced Muggle living." He answered, slight curiosity appearing on his face.

"Well, Muggles live in an entirely different way than us. They have careers as we do, they have school, and that pretty much sums up the similarities between the two worlds." Hermione paused trying to figure out how to continue. "Magic is non-existent for them. They have their own methods of accomplishing deeds such as transportation, chores, and so on.

"Anyways, a dentist is a profession in which people take care of others' teeth. Both of my parents work as that. "

"What was it like not knowing about magic?" Draco asked.

"It wasn't too different from how I live today, when I'm not here at Hogwarts. I went to a Muggle school, where I learned how to read and write. I learnt basics. I spent a lot more time with my parents, than I do now. We would travel to many different places in the world, like Germany and America, during the summer.

"But when I look back at that time of my life what stands out the most to me isn't the traveling that I once did more often than at the present or the Muggle schooling. What I can remember the most is my parents. On the weekends they would go bargain hunting, which is looking for things at cheaper prices, and they would always drag me along against my will. We would drive to many different towns in England, in high hopes of finding 'treasures', which is what my dad called the low cost items they bought non- stop. A few hours later I would be surrounded by all kinds of junk that would overflow the trunk of the car into the backseat where I sat." Hermione paused and her face seemed to light up at the memories of her parents' obsessive hobby.

"Your family sounds so odd to me. I can't seem to picture what it would be like to live a life like that." Draco said thoughtfully.

"I understand what you mean. Sometimes it is so hard to envision things you've never experienced. Almost like trying to view a faded photograph." She agreed with him, while her mind wandered back to the beginning of his story he had told her the day before.

"Everything changed the day I got my Hogwarts letter," Hermione continued her story; her voice had a rueful tone." I could feel a fence go up between my parents and me once they discovered the contents of the letter. We now lead different lives: My life an adventure at Hogwarts with my new friends Harry, Ron, and Ginny and theirs taking care of the office and the patients that came with it. The only thing that we really had in common was that we lived in the same house.

"I still loved them and I know they still loved me. Every time they asked about the Wizarding World or Hogwarts I had to either lie or not say anything at all. I was scared about how they would take the news about Voldemort and Harry. I still am afraid. I still haven't told them anything that is even close to the truth." Hermione was looking down at the floor as she uttered the last sentence, sadness apparent on her face.

Hermione felt water gathering in her eyes and tried her best to keep the tears in, but to no avail. She felt Draco beside her and chanced a fleeting look at him. His face was solemn.

"You were right, you know. About the 'Don't judge a book by its cover' saying." He murmured. "I wasn't sure what you meant at first by that because I assumed that a 'cover' of a book would show everything there was to know. But you showed me how terribly wrong I was."

Hermione looked up at him, her face was tinged a slight red from crying. Her eyes were still moist which seemed to accent the rich brown in her eyes. Draco reached out a hand to stroke her cheek softly and carefully as if he was touching porcelain. He then turned back to the potion to resume its stirring.

"What about you? You just stopped your story unexpectedly. I want you to continue." She said softly, deliberately not responding to what he had said before.

"Continue." He repeated." Do you remember where I left off?"

"You just finished talking about how your father seemed to have schemed how everything in his life was supposed to happen. How you were the one thing that didn't go according to plan."

"Right," He confirmed before proceeding with his tale. "In my family discipline was a necessity. I grew up as obedient as possible, in hopes to be just like my father one day. I was taught who to befriend and to what advantage, and also who to turn my back from. Everything was planted in front of me, everything unbelievably predictable and boring. That was my life, rolled out in front of me like a scroll of parchment just waiting to be read."

"Until recently, just this last summer things changed. In the Malfoy Manor father has made it a tradition that on every Sunday a Death Eater meeting is held. Many people attend: Crabbe, Goyle, Lestrange, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Father, and numerous others. When I turned sixteen in order to become a Death Eater I had to attend all the meetings, every week."

"I remember sitting there at the spacious dinning room, endless platters of food lining up the long dinning table, listening to the Death Eaters' conversation. I never dared to speak or look up, afraid that I would meet You-Know-Who's gaze. Just being in the same room as the Dark Lord made me feel as though an unexplainable hostile feeling was suspended above me, waiting to consume me.

"I didn't understand why I felt this way; it seemed to go against all of my morals to feel such a strong feeling of revulsion against Him, the one who possessed my families' loyalties. But with every week the feeling grew stronger and I discovered that it was not only against You-Know-Who, but also in opposition to the whole thing. The way my father seemed to have my life plotted out before me when I didn't even have a say in the matter at all."

"So what happened in the end?" Hermione asked anxiously, doubt carved onto her features.

"Well," Draco threw a quick glance at his watch and stopped stirring the potion. "After the few weeks of training, my Death Eater ceremony arrived. Inside of me raged a battle between my logic and my impulse. Half of me believed that I didn't really care about the Dark Arts, that my father had just made me believe I did after all those years of persuasion. The other half wanted to still win my father over. As I stood at the entrance of the ballroom, where the ceremony would be held, the latter lost the battle. Dodging my father behind me, I ran down the many steps until I had made my way out of the house and into the pouring rain."

"I didn't make it very far when my father had caught up with me. A lot of yelling and curses were what followed, of course. But that was when I really understood that I couldn't become a Death Eater because I wanted to do something else with my life, even if it was unknown to me for a long time in the future what exactly that goal was."

Hermione took this news quite calmly, her face remained unsurprised. But a question was still tugging at her mind, anticipating an answer. " I still don't understand how you looked beyond your father's point of view after all the time he has spent controlling you."

" It wasn't easy at first, but over time I just learned."

---

The next twelve days went by fast. A sort of treaty was held between Draco and Hermione. They tried not to talk about the unwanted subjects such as Draco's aversion to his father and his customs and Hermione's relationship between her parents. Every now and then though one of brought up one of the subjects unintentionally. The conversation would go along these lines:

" You never did tell me what memories Snape saw the day you took your half of the ingredients from the store." Draco commented suddenly.

" He just saw insignificant ones, but they were enough to build his suspicions. He saw the Rare Hexes and Their Properties book. And..." Hermione trailed off here while she cast her eyes downward, examining the marble.

"And?"

" Nothing. Never mind." Hermione murmured her blush betraying her lie.

"Snape is a very close to my father, I'm sure you know. We can't let him find out anymore about what we're doing." Draco continued unaware of Hermione's blushing.

But overall most of the days were spent planning how they were going to get rid of the Detraccionelmal hex if the potion didn't work and also arguing about the game Quidditch. Which Hermione thought to be a huge waste of time. While Draco valued playing Quidditch because of how challenging it was and the diversion it provided of other things. Before either of them knew it, though, Christmas Eve had come.

A/N: This chapter took me weeks to write! I'm really sorry about the hold up though. Blame it all on school, when you're in your freshman year the homework literally comes pouring in! So any thoughts, comments, and/or advice on this chapter? Anything? I would really appreciate it!