Chapter Seven

Hermione did in panic only pack very few things into a little bag; money, clothes and a book.

She did not know what she would be needing in Hogsmeade, but she would already be back early in the morning, so not many things she assumed.

"Are you ready to leave?" her mother asked. She was preparing for mid-day tea, and Hermione deeply regretted she was not having any tea with her parents. She did not like lying to them, and she did not like not spending Christmas with them, but she felt like she had no choice at all.

"Yes," she sighed, "Yes, I am." Her parents hugged her goodbye. Hermione held back the tears that were craving to escape her eyes.

"Say hello to the Weaslys from us, and wish them a merry Christmas, okay, darling?"

Hermione nodded.

She stepped out in front of the family's fireplace, took some floo powder that her mother was holding, closed her eyes and prepared to think of The Three Broomsticks. But it was something completely different that came to her mind as she travelled..

Hermione took a step outside the fireplace that she had landed in. The first thing that stroke her mind was that she was most defiantly not at The Three Broomsticks. The room she was in was far too big to be a back-room at the pub, and it looked rather as a house than a public place.

The walls were covered with dark green wallpaper, it was velvet, Hermione could feel. It reminded her of her grandmothers living room. Her wallpaper was red though.

The room was empty. It only contained a small couch, the fireplace, and an empty closet.

It was very big, so big that she could not understand why it was empty. Maybe the owners of the room was so wealthy that it was just a spare room, or maybe some kind of spell had enchanted what was really in the room so that nobody could see it.

Hermione did not get long time to wonder. Shortly after her arrival she could her footsteps nearing the room. She did not know what to do, but she had taught herself never to panic. Suppose, the owners of the room would understand that she had travelled to the wrong place.

But she did not dare to take the chance, so she hid herself inside the empty closet. It was made of mahogany, Hermione's favourite.

The door, the double-door in oak that was in the room, opened. It made a funny little noise as old doors usually do when they are opened. Two pair of feet entered.

"You can not continue like this, boy! You know what will happen if you don't do it. He have given you a very precious job that sure will clean off any dirt that is on our family name. You have to do it, son. You need to. You know the consequences of it," one of the people, a man, spoke. Hermione felt her heart beat a bit faster as he spoke; she recognized that voice, but from where? What frightened her the most, though, was what has been said. It had not sounded as a silly game, but more like something very serious.

"I know, father.." the other person begun. Hermione jumped in surprise. That voice. It was even more recognizable.

Apparently her jump had made a lot of noise because Draco Malfoy all of a sudden stopped talking to his father Lucius. Silence filled the room for a minute or two.

"I will get it done," Draco spoke, "soon." He sounded way more scary, yet terrified, than Hermione had ever heard him. She sighed in relief over not being noticed. For a moment she had thought she was exposed.

The two men left the room, and Hermione slowly got out of the closet. She was absolutely trapped. In the Malfoy house. Well, at least she assumed it to be.

She had stupidly enough not brought along any floo powder so she could not escape through the fireplace, and she was not yet sure on her Disapparation. She could give it a try, but she was sure she would just end up at some island with one leg missing. She did not dare to try that.

She had lied to both Ron and Harry about her Disapparation. They both believed she was so bloody good at everything, but she wasn't, and she could not admit that to anyone, not even herself.

She could wait for Draco to come back and tell him everything. He could help her, she was sure. But what if he did not return? And what if he did not want to help her? She still played with the thought of him only joking around with her. There was really no other explanation on why Draco all of a sudden was being so kind towards her. It was so strange.

Hermione sat in the closet for a long time, debating with herself what to do. She wished more than ever to be in front of her own fireplace in her own house back in London. Right now she did not even know where she was. She had never before heard Draco speak of his family home, but she was sure it was somewhere in London.

Hours later Hermione heard footsteps again. She had fallen a bit asleep. It had also turned dark outside, she could tell from the only window in the room, so it was obviously evening. Soon her parents would begin to worry. She had to make it home, no matter how, within a few hours.

Hermione opened one of the closets two doors a bit so that she could see what was going on in the room. The double-door opened, and in stepped Draco. Hermione did once again jump a bit, but this time without making a noise.

Draco walked into the room with a wondering expression on his face. He looked as if he knew Hermione was there. Hermione shook her head silently. He couldn't. Unless he knew a spell she did not know, and she doubted that.

Draco walked straight towards the closet which made Hermione shake in fear. She could imagine how the entire closet must be shaking. She had exposed herself, she knew it.

She could hear his breath, he was that close. She had taken a step back so that her face would not be visible through the hole between the doors.

Hermione was sure that Draco would say something now, or at least throw the doors open and expose her. She closed her eyes, and regretted ever coming to this place. Well, she was not quite sure why Draco had stroked her mind just as she was travelling, but the floo powder had brought her to him.

"Draco, dinner!" Narcissa Malfoy yelled, breaking the silence. Hermione jumped in surprise. She had not expected that to happen, but she hoped It would save her.

"Coming!" Draco turned his face and yelled back. He took a glare around the room, as if to check if anybody was around.

"The roof, three o'clock," he then whispered, his eyes on the floor. He walked out of the room, leaving Hermione behind. It took a few minutes for Hermione to come over the shock, and to realise that he had been talking to her. She was the only one around, and as far as she knew Draco did not speak to himself.

But how would she know when the clock stroke three? She had no watch. But she had a wand..

After hours of re-checking the watch that she had made with her wand, and making up reasons to whether she should or should not go and meet Draco, Hermione left the closet. It was five to three, and she still had to find the roof.

It was all black outside now, the window told her. Small stars lit it up a bit though. Hermione loved the stars. They felt so.. magical. She remembered how she as a kid would spend night after night counting the stars, and wondering how they even got her. She had once had a theory that it, as a matter of fact, was small fairies flying around at night.

Hermione smiled with the thought.

She tip-toed across the room over to the double-doors, and out through them. The hall that she stepped into was only lit up by one lamp that hung from the ceiling. It did not shine bright, but Hermione could tell that there were at least six doors in the hallway. What if she accidentally opened the door to Narcissa and Lucius' bedroom? Or even worse, Draco's, and she had misunderstood the message..

The roof.. There had to be a door that lead to a staircase somewhere.. Or maybe a hole.. Hermione wished Draco had been more precise. He could at least have given her a riddle. She was good at solving those. Her, Harry and Ron had done it thousands of times. Harry had even fought a real 'Riddle'.

Hermione continued to walk down the hallway, wondering where it would bring her.

The answer to that question came just a few more inches down the hallway. A staircase led the way down to what looked like the entrance. It was big and beautiful. The floor was red velvet. Hermione did now realise that she was in a mansion. The Malfoy's lived in a mansion. Of course they did. A big, fat, velvet covered mansion.

Hermione was about to walk down the stairs when she spotted a ladder that was placed right next to her. It was weird to place such one there, wasn't it? She looked up, and discovered a hole in the ceiling. An actual hole. She could not see where it led, but she guessed the roof.

Hermione took the ladder and placed it just under the hole. She hated ladders, she had always been terrified of falling down from one. But she knew she had to do this, so she, cautiously, took one step at a time, and climbed up through the hole. She got up into another empty, dark room. But this was different; it was dirty, and looked as if it had never before been used. She could be the only one to ever had sat foot in that room..

"Lumos," whispered Hermione, holding up her wand. A little, bright light shone from the top of it. She showed her wand a bit around so that she could see where she was.

The room was what she called an attic. It was very dusty, that much that Hermione nearly could not breathe.

She took a few steps, not really knowing what direction to walk. Was this the way Draco wanted her to go? Had he placed the ladder so that she could find this place? Or was this another part of his sick, twisted joke? He probably had already informed his parents of her presence, and they were on their way to watch her. Maybe just lock her inside this room so that she would die from lack of oxygen..

Hermione could not believe that she had been so stupid. The kindness, the letter.. It just was not Draco. Draco was cruel, mean towards everyone, and a big hater of Mud-bloods.

"'Mione?" Hermione turned around in big surprise. There he was, Draco. He too held his wand up with a light at the tip of it. He looked calm, a bit worried, but calm.

"Malfoy.." she whispered.

"I thought you'd never come." Draco took a step closer to Hermione.

"You did not quite make it obvious where to go. I've never been here before, you know," Hermione explained. She did sound a bit grumpy. She still did not truly believe that he was here just to meet her.

"I knew you'd find me somehow. I mean, you're smart." Draco walked all the way up to Hermione know, so that they were face to face. "This way," Draco said, and took Hermione's hand. This time they were not in a hurry or stuck among hundreds of other people, like they had been the first time Draco had held her hand. This time she got to think about it, and feel it truly.

Draco led the way further into the room, all the way up to another door. He slowly opened -it made the same noise as the one in the room with the closet. And then they were on the roof.

Hermione studied the stars as she had always done as a kid, while Draco was still holding her hand. They were sitting down at a blanket that Draco told he had placed months ago when he had discovered this place. He had never before then known there was a way to get up there.

"Why are you here?" he asked after a while of silence. He studied her beautiful face as they spoke.

"I was actually going to The Three Broomsticks, but ended up here. Floo powder is not always to trust, I suppose." Draco chuckled. Maybe he had seen her through, known that it was not just the floo powder.

"Why The Three Broomsticks on Christmas eve? Row with your parents?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. Just a, er, misunderstanding. Don't worry about it, please," she said.

"They're beautiful, right?" asked Draco. Hermione looked confused. Did he mean that her parents were beautiful? That made absolutely no sense at all.

"The stars. I've noticed how you adore them," explained he.

"Oh.. Yes. They are very beautiful." Hermione forced a smile. For some reasons she did not feel happy. She worried too much, and maybe that was only good around Malfoy.

"Your eyes light up like them," said Draco. Hermione coughed one or two times.

"Excuse me?" Malfoy blushed, she could tell.

"Er, never mind. I suppose I was just being cheesy." He chuckled. Hermione chuckled along but did not find the situation fun at all. Had Malfoy just said her eyes shone like stars? Was that not a pick-up line of some kind, like the ones in all those romantic novels she had been reading?

An awkward silence took over for a long time. Hermione did not know where to place herself or what to say. She even caught herself wishing she had never left the closet.

"Draco.." she spoke. Draco looked up at her with his very blue eyes. "I have sort of run into trouble.." She explained all about forgetting her floo powder at home, and not being able to leave the mansion.

"Our house is not a mansion," Draco laughed, interrupting her.

"Yes it is, Malfoy! You have God knows how many bed-and bath rooms, and doors all over. Your floor is covered in velvet.."

"It's not a mansion, it's just a.. big house," said Draco.

"No, no it isn't!" Hermione chuckled, this time for real.

"Yes, it's.. Okay, it's a mansion." They both laughed. Hermione enjoyed Draco's laugh. His real laugh. All those years she had been used to his cruel laugh, but this was nothing like it. Hermione wondered how many people whom had actually ever heard that laugh. Probably not even Crabbe and Goyle.

"We have some floo powder in the living room. I can steal some for you, if you'd like it."

"Seems like I don't have a choice, right? And thank you," she answered.

"I could bring you some blankets. You could stay here until semester starts," Draco suggested.

"No, thank you, but I better go home. My trunk and cat.. But thank you for the offer."