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Chapter 6

He lay there wide awake staring at the Gryffindor colored hangings on his bed. He blinked in the darkness, his fingers tapping on his chest as he took a deep breath fighting the urge to place his pillow over Weasley's face and smother him into silence.

Two days.

That's how long he had been there, acting the part of the Gryffindor, playing the part of the third member of the Golden Trio. It was exhausting. Wasn't Granger searching for a way back yet? There had to be a way. Maybe if they remade the potion, making the same mistake it would send them back.

He was willing to try it.

He growled throwing his pillow over his face as Weasley started mumbling incoherently about spiders placing him under the Imperius curse.

He was willing to try anything to get out of here.

He missed his own bed in Slytherin house, where he didn't have to share with anyone. He missed the looks of fear his fellow students would give him if he was displeased; not that he didn't get that in Gryffindor, it just wasn't the same sort of fear. And the most horrifying thing was the whispered Mudblood insults his old house tossed at him when no one was around.

The worse part of all that was watching Weasley and Potter get angry on his behalf, taking the insults flung at him as insults on themselves as well.

Did friends always do that or was it just a Gryffindor thing?

He thought of Nott. He was the closest thing to this Gryffindor type friendship he had in his true reality, but he really couldn't say someone insulting Nott would make him feel personally insulted. There were few people in his own house in his own reality he could be open and honest with. That was the price you paid for being in Slytherin. Nott was the only one that knew Draco, knew the real Draco and he was the only one Draco could actually be honest with. But here? In Gryffindor house? They seemed to thrive on being open and honest with everyone.

Why give someone that much power of you?

It was unfathomable.

Yet, without his friend, Nott, Draco felt very much alone in this new reality. He couldn't exactly pull Potter to the side and say "hey let me tell you this funny story." Who would believe him? He could attempt to get Nott alone. After all, Nott didn't seem to be the one calling people Mudbloods. It would seem some things remained the same across realities.

He sighed in irritation.

He really needed a room to himself.

Going to Nott would not be good either. He had a better chance of Potter believing his story than Nott. At least in this reality where Potter was his best friend. What would he say to Potter? "Oh, by the way, we hate each other where I'm from." Yea, that would go over real well.

That left only one true companion in this strange reality for him.

That left only one person who just possibly knew how he felt.

Hermione Granger.

Her worried almost scared face floated into his mind. She wasn't doing so hot in this reality either. Every time Nott touched her she looked like she feared him eating her. Her eyes darted around her house mates all the time as if waiting for someone to point out that she did not belong there. That was when he saw the ultimate fear of not only their situation, but her very surroundings take over. That was when he would notice her welcome Nott's touch and even step into his touch as if being closer to him meant being safer.

So maybe she didn't need his…dare he say friendship? But he definitely needed her to get him out of this warped reality.

A low distant thunder rolled across the sky.

She wrapped her arms around herself, standing at the window watching the way the dark clouds shifted and the rain drop from the sky. She ran her hands up and down her arms as if to warm her, the chill she felt seeming to never end. She leaned against the slight framing of the alcove the window sat in, leaning her head against the cold stone. For three days she lived a life that was not hers. She still could not fathom the truth; that in some other reality she was a Slytherin.

No matter how she tried, the past two mornings she woke up expecting to go into the Great Hall and be told she was sitting at the wrong table; to wake up and find Nott staring at her in disgust and calling her a Mudblood, though in his defense, even in her reality he never called her that. He wasn't like the other Slytherins in her reality either.

It was still lonely.

She couldn't tell Nott she didn't belong. What would she say? As far as he knew she was the girl he had been betrothed to since they were ten. She would sound like she had gone nutters and Hermione could only imagine how horridly embarrassing insanity is for the pureblood crowd.

Perhaps she could just call herself eccentric instead.

She giggled slightly, her bare shoulder shaking in her self amusement. Perhaps she was going insane. Who wouldn't? She was forced to watch her friends from the other side of the line. What exactly did that mean? In the window she could see her faded reflection staring back at her.

Who exactly was Hermione Granger, Slytherin in this reality? How much of Malfoy's life was now hers? Were her parents Death Eaters? Was she destined to be one? If anything in this new reality frightened her more than anything else it was those thoughts, the very line they followed and the cold truth they would lead her to.

She closed her eyes.

That couldn't possibly be who stared back at her in the window. It could not be the daughter of Death Eaters, possible future Death Eater herself. She could not be the very thing that killed her parents in her true reality; the thing that tore her life apart and left her broken and alone.

No.

Never.

She had to figure out a way back, she simply had to. She was not accustomed to this, to standing on this side of the line…to being the bad guy. The chill wouldn't go away. It ran up her spine and froze her to the bone. She shivered uncontrollably. Then she felt it, the soft fluttering of soft warm lips caressing the side of her neck. She gasped in surprise at not just feeling the sensation, but how it made her feel. She could see his reflection in the window, standing behind her, arms wrapped around her pulling her back against him, her head still tilted to the side and his face buried against her neck.

Yet, something else she was not accustomed to. The attentions of one Theodore Nott.

His kisses were so gentle and slowly became almost nonexistent as he sighed against the warmth of her skin.

"Come to bed, Pet. I'll keep you warm," he whispered against her neck when he felt her shiver again.

She didn't respond, not sure how to. She was silent as Nott led her across the room and into the bed next to him. She lay in the bed, turning her back to the young man, still not quite comfortable there in bed with him. The slight chill in the castle air had given her the sniffles.

"Will I be forced to take the Dark Mark?" She whispered not really fearing this question would seem odd in any way.

Nott sighed almost immediately, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him where he held her tight, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"I told you, Pet," he said. "It won't be necessary. Only one of us needs to bear it."

Hermione blinked and looked over her shoulder at the young man. His hair fell across his forehead and she could see how tired he was, his earlier Quidditch practice having worn him out. Her eyes scanned his face for any sign of fear or upset or even anger, but there was none.

"Do you actually believe what V-the Dark Lord preaches?"

His eyes, lazy in their exhaustion, looked down at Hermione and smiled only slightly.

"Of course not, Pet," he said. "But I do believe in keeping you alive, safe, and untainted."

His words filled her. He truly wasn't like the others here too, but willing to play the role if that meant she didn't have to bear the mark. She turned in his embrace, facing him for the first time since her arrival. She looked up at him, eyes scanning the curve of his jaw and lingering on his lips before shifting quickly to his eyes.

It was the same eyes that looked back at her from across the library table in her reality. The same set of eyes that stood before her waiting to go straight to the library because he knew that was what she would want. She snuggled closer into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her. It was the same set of arms that held her back numerous times from killing Malfoy.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.

She took a deep sigh and allowed the exhaustion to overwhelm her. Tomorrow she would do what she had to do to get home. She had to get out of this reality before it was too late, before she was too lost in this life.

"Get us out of here, Granger."

He held her against the book shelves. The library was all but abandoned. Very few students frequented the library on Saturdays, but he knew that was where he could find her. She squirmed to try to break free of his grasp, but with no results. He only held her tighter and stepped forward as if preparing to use his entire body to keep her in place if necessary.

"Let go of me," she hissed at him.

His lips quirked up in an amused, almost evil grin.

"What? Do you think I'm stupid, Granger? I'm not letting you go so you can pull out that little wand of yours."

He should have seen it coming. She wasn't like the other girls swooning over him, yet fearing him. She simply hated him. She lifted her foot up and stomped down on Draco's foot as hard as she could. He yelped in pain, letting her go so he could reach down to ensure he still had a foot.

"I don't need a wand to hurt you, Malfoy," she snapped at him as she pushed past him. "Honestly, do all purebloods lack imagination?"

He turned around, keeping his narrowed angry eyes on her. She sat down in the chair at the table she was near, where all the other books she had were piled up. She pulled a book from the pile and opened it. He watched the anger drain from her face.

"I'm trying, Malfoy," she said softly. "You haven't exactly been offering to help and you are the only one here…" She paused as if finding her words difficult and bad tasting.

"I'm the only one here what?" He asked expecting more insults. Inside his shoes, he wiggled his toes willing the blinding pain away and the normal feeling to return.

Hermione looked up at him, her lips pursed in anger and her eyes swimming with tears.

"You're the only one I have here that knows and understands. Do you think you could at least make the attempt to be less of a git till we get home?"

He could see how difficult it was for her to say that. How utterly horrid the words tasted on her tongue. She suddenly looked so small sitting at that table, surrounded by books trying to find answers to questions that had never been asked. She looked beyond lost; she looked abandoned and lonely.

He placed his hands on the table and leaned across down into her face.

"You know what, Granger?" He asked. "I don't think I will. You will figure out how to fix this and when you do, you will tell me and we will return and everything will be as it was. There is nothing else to understand."

He stood up straight, standing there for a moment, staring down his nose at her almost as his father had been known to do in the past. The look of disgust on his face was more damaging than any physical damage he could have done to her. She felt filthy; she felt horrid and she felt more alone than ever. He walked past the table, leaving her to find the answers.

Hermione stood, closing the book and gathering only a few into her arms to check out.

"I'm going to Professor Dumbledore," she said continuing to choose which books to keep and turning to see Draco standing there silently staring at her as if she had gone insane. "After dinner, tonight. I'm going to the Headmaster to tell him the truth. Maybe he can help."

He was hard pressed to look for reasons to blame Granger for their predicament. Maybe if she had just ignored his existence instead of the continuous attempts on his life this would not have happened. Maybe if she wasn't a Mudblood this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if she simply got over her parents' death this would not have happened.

He took a sip of his pumpkin juice, his eyes glancing over the edge of his goblet at Hermione sitting at the Slytherin table. She was surrounded by people, yet she appeared so alone, only the touch of Nott's hand on her neck or back on occasion seemed to keep her grounded in her surroundings.

Who was he kidding?

He couldn't fathom suddenly finding himself alone without his parents. He could not imagine what Granger must have felt to hear their deaths. He could not imagine what it was like to go to bed one night with two loving parents and wake up with…no one.

Irritated, angry with himself and livid with the Gryffindors around him, he shoved his plate away and abruptly stood from the table.

"Draco, where are you going?" Harry asked concern on his face at Draco's sudden anger.

Draco looked down at Harry, wanting more than anything to tell him it was none of his business. He was beyond angry at these Gryffindors. Obviously, being around them for more than an hour at a time had horrid consequences. It was as if their overbearing desire to do good was contagious.

Bloody bastards.

"Need some air," he said and left the Great Hall.

Theo looked up from his school work. Hermione sat next to him in the Slytherin common room, fidgeting incessantly. He had noticed a few changes in her over the past few months, but nothing in comparison to the past few days. It was like she was a different person. He worried every time he reached for her that she would slip away, fall from his grasp like a bar of soap being held too tightly. And the frightened look he often saw in her eyes was disconcerting. What did she have to fear?

She held a book in her lap, but her attention was locked on the dancing fire in the fireplace, not even paying attention to the noise of the students reading the announcement for their first Hogsmeade visit of the year in two weeks time. Several Slytherins hovered around the bulletin, their excitement for the trip showing in their quick whispers. Pansy moved across the room, bright smile on her face and sat down in a regal looking chair across from Hermione. She tucked a dark lock of hair behind her ear as she reached for the school book she left on the table in front of them.

"Are we still looking for dresses during our Hogsmeade visit, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked, pulling her gaze from the fire and looking at Pansy, feeling slightly lost about what she had said.

"Dresses?" She asked.

Pansy smiled and shook her head.

"Is Theo keeping you from getting proper sleep?" Pansy asked with a teasing tone to her voice, ignoring the roll of Theo's eyes as he turned his attention away from the girls. "Yes, dresses Hermione. You are in need of several. You said so yourself. You have your family's annual Christmas Ball to attend this year, not to mention you are still looking for the perfect bridesmaids' dresses and your wedding dress!"

Hermione watched how excited Pansy became and her words indicated previous conversations where Hermione shared in her enthusiasm for the need to shop. It was best to just go along with it. She nodded her head.

"I'm sorry, Pansy. I guess I was just lost in my own thoughts, but yes, of course we will look around Hogsmeade."

Pansy smiled brightly and fell back in her chair with her book. Hermione glanced around the common room, her eyes falling on the stormy grey eyes staring back at her. She couldn't help the corners of her mouth from turning up slightly.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to come to his office this evening. Not sure what about," she elaborated and feeling guilty for lying.

Theo nodded, leaning into her, his left hand reaching into her hair and pulling her closer to him. He placed a small, gentle kiss on her cheek and then leaned into her ear, whispering; his voice was deep with an inflection of need.

"I'll wait up for you, Pet."

Her mind quickly ran through several versions of the conversation she was about to have with Dumbledore. In some of those scenarios he understood what she was saying and had a quick easy solution for them. In others, he looked somber and asked what she had been drinking in the dungeons, though with his own Dumbledorian twist to it.

She mumbled to herself, wording and re-wording what she was planning to say to the headmaster. He was a kooky old man in her reality, when he was alive; she had no doubt he was just as kooky in this reality. She fidgeted with her hands as she surged on, determination etched across her brow.

She saw him the moment she turned the corner.

He was leaning against the stone wall as if he didn't have a care in the world. His arms were crossed over his chest and one leg was bent, his foot flat against the wall. His blond hair fell across his forehead coming dangerously close to obscuring his vision with one wrong move.

He stood up straight as she approached, dropping his hands and placing them in his pants pocket. With a flick of his head, his hair was out of his eyes and he could see again. He waited for her to complete her approach. She slowed to a stop, watching Draco warily; worried he was up to no good even now.

"What is it now?" She asked, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion and her eyes pleading with him to just get it over with.

That was when he realized how tired she was; how exhausting playing this part was for her. Maybe it was worse on her than it was him. Yes, it was horrifying to be the pureblood in one reality and the Mudblood in this one, to go from the person tormenting to the tormented. But what was it like for Hermione? What was it like to wake up surrounded by people that would turn on her in a split second if they knew the truth? What was it like to lie awake in bed at night and wonder which of your housemates' parents murdered yours?

He shook those thoughts out of his head.

"Look, Granger," he said. "We don't like each other. I don't think that's really news for you, but I want out of here just as you do."

"Yes?" Hermione asked, encouraging him to continue as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"There is no need to go to Dumbledore. All he'll do is spew nonsense about us learning something from this experience and if he did know how to fix it, he would still make us figure it out."

Hermione nodded. She had to agree. That sounded very much like something Dumbledore would do.

"We'll figure this out together," he said.

"Together?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow rising up almost into her hairline.

"Yes," Draco snapped. "Together. But don't expect any miraculous change in my thoughts of you when we return. You're still a Mudblood."

She rolled her eyes and looked away.

"And you're still a twitchy little ferret."

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

"Shall we get to it then?"

She nodded, both turning down the corridor heading for the library.

That was the moment Draco would look back on and determine that was when he should have turned and ran.

That was the moment he should have walked away and not looked back…figuring out his own way home.

But he didn't.

And he would pay dearly for it.

Note: anyone still reading? Helloooooo?