Title: The Secrets of Hermione Granger

Chapter: (8?)
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.
Author's Note: Another new chapter, gosh! Am I good, or am I good? As of the editing of this chapter I have all the way through chapter 11 written, those between here and there do have to be edited still, that's why they aren't posted, before anyone asks.

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Chapter 8

Meet the Traitors
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When morning dawned over Surrey, it found that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were already awake and roaming around the house. They were collecting the last of all of Harry's worldly possessions and packing them away in his trunk. Even though most of what he owned was second-hand and pre-worn by Dudley, and even though Harry had never thought he owned a lot of things, it turned out to be a sizeable pile of belongings that were piling up in the smallest bedroom at 4 Privat Drive. The bed had been overtaken by clothing that was folding itself thanks to one of Hermione's little-known charms, the floor was a small city of towering book piles thanks to six years to education at Hogwarts, there were small trinkets on his desk including the omnioculars from the World Cup, and the dragon from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. All in all, Harry's room had erupted into a miniature circus, and a rather loud one at that. The Dursleys found themselves awoken by the whirrings and buzzings that were coming from the room, the running up and down the stairs of the three teens, and Ron complaining loudly that he was hungry.

After such a rude awakening, the Dursleys were not much endeared to these two friends of Harry's. Mrs. Dursley grumbled while frying up some eggs and bacon, Mr. Dursley sat at the kitchen table glaring at the television set, and Dudley was complaining about the horrendous lack of television programs so early in the morning. When the breakfast was completed, Mrs. Dursley called to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to come and eat, which they did. Ron wolfed down a large portion of the prepared food, all the while eyed jealously by Dudley who was eating a half a grapefruit. Hermione ate and thanked Mrs. Dursley politely, who just nodded curtly in response. Harry said nothing, but took everyone's plates and put them in the kitchen sink. He looked meaningfully at Hermione who raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded, she shrugged, and a mischievous grin overtook her face.

"Nettoyez!" she said, pointing her wand at the kitchen sink. The water turned on, the sponge sprang to life, and the dishes began to clean themselves. Mr. Dursley and Dudley leapt from their seats in surprise, but Mrs. Dursley looked over at the dishes and a slightly reminiscent smile crept on her face. She calmly drank her tea and continued reading the newspaper, ignoring the splutterings of her husband and son.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the kitchen, Ron was laughing at the reactions of the two Dursley men, Harry merely smiled, and Hermione was chastising herself under her breath for such ill usage of magic.

They climbed the steps and emerged in the upstairs hallway, "Well, I suppose we'll get going then, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yea," he said quietly.

"Alright!" said Ron briskly, clapping his hands together, "Let's get our stuff and get out of this place, mate! It's terrible here." He walked into Harry's room and began to toss the stuff he'd used the previous night into his trunk.

Hermione moved closer to Harry and asked him gently if he wanted to say good-bye. He scoffed in reply and Hermione noticed that he was blinking rather faster than usual.

"It's alright, we'll understand if you want to say good-bye," said Hermione, her hand on his arm.

"No," said Harry, "I don't want to say good-bye. I shan't miss them."

"Harry—"

"—Hermione," he said in a pained voice, "Please…just drop it."

She nodded and turned into the spare room and began to collect her belongings. Harry stood there a moment, watching her organize everything. He rubbed his hand under his eyes and then walked into his room. His stuff was all packed into his trunk and the room no longer looked like his. It was now Dudley's second bedroom again, anything that had been left was there when Harry moved in six summers ago. The bent up air rifle, the smashed through television set, and even the small working tank was still in the room. The parrot cage had been taken over by Hedwig as a second home, but Harry left that in favor of the one he had bought in Diagon Alley when Hagrid had given him the owl as his eleventh birthday gift.

All bits of parchment had been gathered up and placed in neat piles, the broken quills had be put in the rubbish bin, the Quidditch posters had been removed from the wall. Harry looked around it sadly, remembering the cakes he had stored in the loose floorboards under the bed when Smeltings had imposed the diet, he remembered doing his homework under the sheets by torch light, he remembered the tropical birds that used to perch on the window sill when Sirius would write to him. He hated every inch of the room, and yet it held so many memories. Some were good, such as receiving that Broomstick Servicing Kit that Hermione had sent while she was on holiday in France; and others were bad, such as being fed tinned soup through a cat flap; there were the humorous memories, like when the Weasleys had come and stolen him in their flying Ford Anglia; and there were also those terrifying memories like when Uncle Vernon had blamed him for Dobby's magic during the summer of third year.

No, he certainly did not have to say good-bye to the Dursleys and their cruelness. He supposed he ought to thank them though; at least he didn't look like a whale or a hippopotamus.

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Harry led his friends out to the end of the drive, and then turned down the street. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other but continued to follow him. After they turned down Wisteria Walk Ron finally decided it was time to ask where they were walking.

"To the park," Harry answered shortly.

"Oh," said Ron. They walked in silence a bit longer, "Why?"

"Muggles, Ron," said Hermione.

"Oh," he said again. Once again silence. "I thought muggles couldn't see the Knight Bus."

"They can't."

Silence.

"Then why are we walking to the park?" asked Ron.

"Because, you dolt, they can see us!" Hermione said, speeding up to catch Harry and walk beside him.

"Oh."

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It was a rather short walk using Harry's cut through between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent. When they arrived at the park, Harry walked over to the swing set and sat down on the last remaining unbroken swing. Ron looked around at the half-destroyed playground and gave a low whistle.

"Looks like some was practicing a Reducto spell around here."

"Nope," said Harry who was digging through his trunk in search of his wand, "Dudley and his gang."

Hermione was perched on the lid of her trunk in silence, she was watching Harry dig through his trunk, "Why did you throw your wand in there anyway?"

"I don't know. It probably happened since we were so busy packing."

"I have mine," offer Hermione, pulling her wand from a slim pocket in her trousers.

Harry looked up and smiled, "Great! Just stick your wand arm out."

Hermione did so and with a loud bang a huge three-decker bus squealed to a spot in front of them. The door opened to reveal a piteously skinny, sallow faced sort of creature in a purple uniform.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he said sluggishly, "emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Sirap Notlih, and I will be your conductor this morning. Where would you like to go?"

Harry stepped forward, "Grimmauld Place."

"Right this way," said Sirap Notlih. He reached forward and helped Hermione lift her trunk up the steps on into the bus, Harry and Ron followed with Harry's trunk, and then Ron and Sirap went back for Ron's trunk. Once they were all onboard, the driver shut the door and there was a loud deafening bang, the bus was no longer in the park was racing its way down a narrow street in what seemed to be Edinburgh.

"Oi!" said Ron, "What happened?"

"This is were we was before you flagged us down," said Sirap, "Now it'll be eleven sickles for each of ya. There'll be about another six stops, ain't that right?" he called up to the front. The driver called back with a guttural "Yar!" and Sirap looked expectantly at the three.

"Right," said Hermione. She reached into her pocket and produced the eleven sickles asked for, and then passed them on to the conductor.

Harry rummaged around in his trunk before finding his money bag and then he shoved the eleven sickles into the conductor's greasy palms. Ron was looking slightly uneasy, and Sirap was looking at him through squinted eyes, "Ya gotta pay up, boy."

"Well, the thing of the matter is—" began Ron.

"—It's alright, Ron," said Hermione. She pulled another eleven sickles from her pocket and handed them to Sirap, "That's for him," said she, nodding toward Ron. The conductor nodded and gave her a creepy sort of grin. Hermione returned it uncertainly and turned back to her friends.

"Thank, Hermione," Ron said, his ears tinged red.

"That's what friends are for," she said with a gentle smile.

Harry sat back in the comfortable chairs that were on the Knight Bus. It was different than he remembered, but why would there be rows of beds during the day? Then in that case shouldn't it be the Day Bus? That didn't have the same sort of ring as the Knight Bus, homophones and all that.

"Harry?" said Hermione, breaking through his thoughts.

"What?"

"Didn't you hear what I asked?"

"No, sorry," he said, turning his attention fully on Hermione.

"I got an owl last night from my mum."

"Oh? What'd she say?"

"Nothing much, basically wished me luck." Hermione looked at the ground, she sighed, "She also sent me a book that I had laying around."

Harry arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

Hermione reached into her trunk and pulled out The Amazing Lives of the Founders Four and All the Details You Didn't Think You Wanted to Know. She handed the book to Harry who took it gingerly from her, this book also seemed to be very old, the leather was worn, and spoke of many hands that had held it. There were spots on the covering where the oils from previous owners' hands had left prints.

He turned the book this way and that and then looked up at his friend, "You had a book like that laying about in your room?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, you know how much I love to read," said Hermione cheerfully.

"Hermione," said Ron, breaking into the conversation, "That book must be centuries old!"

Hermione shrugged, "Well, it was on sale at Scrivenshaft's in Hogmeade."

"I didn't know they sold books there," said Ron. But he laughed, "Trust Hermione to find a remote place that sells strange books."

"You're ever so kind, Ronald."

"Well, did you read the book yet?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "Of course I have!"

"I was just asking."

She held the book under Ron's nose, "This is also how I know that Gryffindor has no other possessions surviving today!"

Ron held his hands up in surrender. The Knight Bus suddenly banged again and they stopped in a deserted and desolate square, "GRIMMAULD PLACE!" came from the front of the bus.

Hermione rose from the chair and, with the help of Sirap, carried her trunk off the bus. Harry and Ron also removed their trunks and deposited them in the street. Sirap turned before climbing back onto the bus, tipped his cap, and grinned at Hermione. He stepped back onto the bus, which then proceeded to race down the street at a ridiculous pace, houses, rubbish bins and cars all moving out of its way. There was a loud bang, like a cannon going off, and the bus was gone.

The three turned in the square to look at the big empty space between houses eleven and thirteen. Harry sighed despondently and heaved his trunk across the street to the pavement. Hermione and Ron followed suit and trailed behind Harry in a single file. Harry led them directly in front of where the Black house should be, but there was nothing.

"What happens when the Secret Keeper dies?" whispered Ron to Hermione.

"The Secret dies with him," she answered back.

"Well?" asked Harry impatiently, "Can't we get in?"

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore told us where it was. I can see the house," she said with a twinge of smugness in her voice, "Can't you?"

"No," said Ron, "Can you Harry?"

"No."

The pair looked helplessly at Hermione who sighed, "You know where it is! Just think of the address in your mind and it will appear there," she said, pointing to a seemingly empty lot.

Ron shut his eyes hard, and then reopened them, "Nothing."

"I didn't say look harder, I said you have to think harder."

"I see it now," said Harry. He smiled to his friend, "I don't know where we'd be without you."

"On the pavement till Kingdom comes."

Ron frowned, "I still can't see it."

"Ugh! Come on!" Hermione said, dragging Ron up the steps he couldn't see. Hermione opened the door and pulled him inside, "Can you see it now?" she whispered fervently in his ear.

"Yes," he said just as quietly, his ears red once again.

"Good."

They lowered their trunks quietly to the floor, shut the door silently behind them, and then tip-toed into the kitchen. Hermione stole a glance at the black, moth-eaten curtains that were hanging over the portraits of Sirius's rather mad mother. They made it silently through the hallway and then into the kitchen beyond where, to their not-so-delightful surprise, three people were sitting at the table drinking back warm butterbeers.

Ron and Hermione crashed into Harry as he suddenly stopped upon entering. The three at the table were just as surprised. One of the mugs fell to the table with a loud crash, butterbeer spilling everywhere.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!" roared Harry, advancing quickly through the doorway to the table, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he asked again.

The three at the table were so surprised that none of them said anything. Ron had rushed forward with his wand outstretched, ready to curse the lot of them.

"YEA! WHY ARE YOU LOT HERE?" he cried.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," said Lucius from the head of the table, waving his hand congenially at one of the chairs.

"I WILL NOT BE INVITED TO SIT DOWN IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AZKABAN!"

"Oh?" Lucius said carelessly, "Why is that?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE A DEATH EATER!"

"Such a harsh accusation, Mr. Potter. If you'd be so kind to sit down. There is some butterbeer still on the hob. Draco, if you'd be so kind."

"YOU WERE THERE! IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES!"

"Indeed I was."

"YOU SAW SIRIUS DIE!"

"On that charge, I'm afraid you are incorrect. If you remember correctly, my niece had stunned me. I believe she is called Nymphadora Tonks? Well, in any case, I was not involved in that portion of that evening," Lucius said silkily. "Draco? Why don't you offer these Gryffindors some butterbeer?"

"Yes, father," he muttered, getting up and filling three tankards of the frothy liquid from the pot on the stove. He returned and placed them all carefully on the table.

Hermione reached for one but found her hand slapped away by Ron, "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"I was having some butterbeer," she said.

"Don't take anything from these pillocks! You know we can't trust them, they're Death Eaters."

"Oh, Ron!" said Hermione, she sat down at the table and drank from the tankard of butterbeer,

"Thanks, Draco," she said.

He nodded in response, but didn't say anything. Harry and Ron watched this in surprise, but neither Lucius Malfoy, nor Severus Snape, who was also sitting at the table, even blinked at the exchange.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON, HERE?" shouted Harry.

"Really, Mr. Potter, you ought to take a seat," Mr. Malfoy said calmly, smiling slightly at the out come of this surprise visit.

"I'd really prefer not to take a seat thanks, Malfoy. What I want is you to get out of my house, all three of you."

"Potter," sneered Snape, "Sit down!"

"Snape!" said Harry with venom in his voice, "I never trusted you, but I trusted Dumbledore. You've betrayed both our trusts."

"Like I said, sit down," said Snape firmly. He looked blankly at Harry who made no move to sit. "Fine," Snape said tartly, "Miss Granger is smart enough to have sat down and enjoy the butterbeer, but then again she always has been a bit of a know-it-all. You both just stand there like you always have, letting her make all the smart decisions."

Ron's mouth dropped, "Don't call her a know-it-all! She's the cleverest person I know."

"And she's not afraid to share her knowledge," sneered Draco, "Whatever bit of information she has she shares, whether the listener cares or not."

Hermione just sat there, smiling at the two of them. She calmly drank from the tankard and said absolutely nothing.

"Look it here, Death Eater!" said Ron, advancing towards the table with his fists drawn, "You leave her alone!"

"She doesn't seem to mind our teasing one bit," Draco said with a smirk, "In fact, I happen to think she's rather enjoying it."

Ron looked at Hermione and saw that she was openly smiling at the insults that were flying around the room, "What's the matter with you?" he cried.

"Nothing's the matter with me," she answered. "Really you two! Sit down, the butterbeer's not poisoned—"

"—How do you know?" said Ron darkly.

"Because Draco would never poison me. He's much too creative for that."

"Stupefy!" said Harry, pointing his wand at Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius collapsed in his seat, dropping the tankard of butterbeer and spilling the yellow foamy liquid all over the stone floor of the kitchen. Draco leapt out of his seat and knelt next to his father. He glared up to Harry and sneered in his direction. Draco removed him wand from the pocket of his robes and pointed it at his father's chest, "Renervate!" he said.

Lucius opened his eyes, sat up, placed a hand on his forehead, and slowly shook his head. He looked up to Harry with the first genuine smile that Harry had ever seen on his face, "That was an amazing stupefying charm! I'm not sure I've ever met one so powerful!" Draco helped his father back to his feet, Lucius was still shaking his head and muttering, "Simply amazing! So much power!"

Harry looked uneasily at Ron, Ron had squinted his eyes at Hermione who had been wearing a worried expression ever since the elder Malfoy had tumbled from his chair. Ron walked over to Hermione, grabbed her by the arm, and heaved her out of the chair. Draco jumped up again and glared at Ron, but Ron didn't seem to notice. He proceeded to drag Hermione from the room by force, despite all her protesting—verbal and physical. It seemed to have no effect on Ron who simply continued pulling her from the room. However, a well-placed Petrificus Totalus! did the trick wonderfully.

Ron's limbs snapped together as he toppled to the floor, Hermione removed her arm from his grasp and held it to her body. She turned back to the four others in the room and saw the Draco had his wand pointed at Ron.

Now, Harry was enraged that Draco had performed magic on Ron, "What do you think you're doing, ferret?"

Draco lazily turned his gaze to Harry, "I was trying to save your friend from a broken wrist," he drawled, "I fear I may have been too late to prevent bruising." He walked over to Hermione, "Here, let me see that."

And to Harry's astonishment, Hermione nodded tearfully and placed her wrist in Draco's hand. Draco pushed the sleeve of her shirt and looked at Hermione's delicately boned wrist and pale skin. He turned it fist one way and then the other. When he was satisfied he released her wrist and smiled, "Well, it's not broken."

Hermione chuckled, "It'll be bruised though," she said quietly.

"Yes," Draco agreed, "I'll owl my mum for some bruise-healing paste, we've used up all the stores that the Order had here."

Hermione nodded her thanks, "My mom doesn't keep it on hand anymore. With you and Avery in school, she didn't need it so much."

Draco smirked at her, "Because you've never needed it before now," he said sarcastically.

"Nope," she agreed, "Never," she added with a smirk.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" exclaimed Harry, sparks shooting out of the end of his wand.

Draco rolled his eyes, "First, put your wand in your pocket. I don't want any Gryffindor sparks burning holes through my clothing. Second, sit the hell down, Saint Potter." Draco walked back around the table and sat down again. Neither Ron nor Harry moved.

Hermione sighed, pulled her wand from her trouser pocket, and pointed it at Harry and Ron, "Locomotor Mortis!" The two boys found their legs bound together. Harry struggled to move them apart, but only caused himself to fall over. Ron just toppled over the moment Hermione cast the curse. "Locomotor Harry!" Harry soared into one of the seats around the table, "Locomotor Ron!" Ron joined Harry at the table in the seat next to him.

"Lovely," said Snape with a smirk, "Now that we're all sitting, I suppose there are a number of things we have to talk about."

Harry and Ron were struggling in their seats, trying desperately to wrench their legs apart. They were both spewing all sorts of vulgar and unpleasant language. Hermione grew tired of it and Silencio!ed the pair of them. Now they were just sitting there, glaring rather disagreeably at her. Ron's ears and face were both fully red in anger; Harry's eyes seemed to be burning holes through Hermione's, seeing directly inside of her. She shivered at the feeling and looked at the pair of them.

"Listen to me; both of you," she said, "There are some things that we," she gestured to herself, Draco, Lucius Malfoy, and Snape, "have to tell you. Professor Dumbledore didn't actually want anyone besides us to know, but now we have to tell you. Especially since you'll be running around doing who knows what." She looked at them and noticed that they were listening, "Now, I'm going to remove the silencing charm. Do you promise to act like the adults that you are instead of running around and cursing everything with a wand?"

Neither replied, but then Harry nodded stiffly. Ron quickly followed suit.

"Good," Hermione breathed, "Finte Incantatum!" she waved her wand over her friends and both the silencing charm and the leg-locker curse were lifted.

"Cor, Hermione!" said Ron angrily, "Thanks for the curses!" he rubbed his neck, and then twisted it, cracking the joints.

"Ron! That's disgusting!" Hermione said with a look of revulsion on her face.

"Well, so is cursing your best mates in the back!"

"But I haven't!"

"Yes! I rather think you have," said Ron, "Here we are at twelve Grimmauld Place with Dumbledore's murderer, his would be murderer, and the would be murderer of my only sister! Then you curse us, drop into these chairs like we're sacks of dragon dung, expecting us to listen to you! You claim that you aren't cursing us in the back, but everything you've done says something else!"

"Listen up, Weasley!" said Draco dangerously from the other side of the table, "There are things that you have to know, so shut it. This is a time to listen, not to speak." He leaned back in the chair, "Do you understand?"

Harry sneered, "Why are we going to listen to you lot?"

"Because, Mr. Potter," said Lucius from the head of the table, "We are looking for horcruxes."

Ron nearly fell out of his seat, "Where did you hear about horcruxes? Why are you looking for them?"

Lucius thought back, "I believe we learned about the horcruxes just about seventeen years ago. Isn't that right, Severus?"

"I'm sure you remember the time, too, Lucius," Snape said after taking a swallow of butterbeer. "In fact, why don't you just relate the whole evening to them?"

"Are you ever anything but sarcastic?"

"Never."

Lucius sighed and turned back to Harry and Ron. He looked at them both very seriously and said, "There is a lot we have to do, and there is not much time to do it."

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry warily.

"Look, Potter," said Draco, "There are four horcruxes that have to be destroyed that we know of, right?" He sat up in his chair, leaned on his elbows against the table and looked Harry right in the eye, "You are the only one in this room with the power to destroy them without being hurt or killed."

"What are you talking about?" Ron said.

"Remember the Chamber of Secrets opening?" Draco drawled.

"All because of your stupid father!"

"Careful, Weasley," Draco cautioned, "We outnumber you. Dumbledore was the one who told my 'stupid father' to slip the diary to your sister."

Ron spluttered.

"In addition to that, Dumbledore made sure that you figured out how to get to the Chamber, especially after Hermione was petrified. Dumbledore stuffed that piece of parchment into her fist before you came up."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Harry venomously, "That doesn't even make any sense. Why would Dumbledore risk another student dying after what happened last time?"

"It was a test, you idiot," said Draco, "A test for you, to see how you would handle it. We could've taken the diary from the Weasley girl any time we wanted and stopped it from happening. They had to know if you could safely destroy a horcrux since you and Voldemort are so closely tied together. They also had to find out what abilities and sensibilities you had gained from Voldemort that night. Parselmouth? That was a surprise." He smirked, "They had wondered whether you could manage something safely without killing anyone. Fortunate thing about Lockhart though, no one really liked him," he smirked at Hermione and said, "Right, Mya?"

Hermioned blushed and muttered something under her breath.

"What was that?" Draco asked innocently.

"You are a foul, evil—"

"—Amazingly handsome man?" Draco interrupted helpfully

"I was going to call you a blood-sucking bugbear."

"Oh? Ouch," Draco said, putting a hand on his chest just over his heart, "I'm hurt, injured beyond repair. Your words truly wound me."

"Draco," said Lucius in a warning tone, "That is enough with the sarcasm," the senior Malfoy turned to the two boys, "I'm not quite sure where to begin. Albus never told us how much we should tell you after all was said and done."

"After what was said and done?" asked Harry.

"His death," answered Lucius.

"You knew he was going to die!" Ron asked incredulously.

Lucius nodded, "So did he. Severus knew, Draco knew, Mya knew. We all knew. It all had to be planned accordingly so that it appeared like Draco was doing it to stay in Voldemort's Circle, trying to repair the Malfoy name," he sneered, "As though it could be tarnished. Anyhow, Albus' death was unavoidable; we tried to talk him out of it many times."

"Who is this 'we' that you keep mentioning?" asked Harry.

"Ah! That would be myself, my wife, Severus, Rassia, who is Mya's mother, and my son."

"And why are you a 'we'?"

"We are Order spies."

"What!" exclaimed Harry, "How are you spies for the Order?" He looked a Lucius directly, "I saw you in the graveyard! You were in the Department of Mysteries!" Harry turned his gaze to Draco, "I saw you in Borgin and Burkes over the summer, I saw you almost kill Dumbledore." Harry then turned his gaze to Severus, "And you! I saw you actually murder him!"

"Potter," said Snape, "I think you should be aware of what you see and what is actually happening."

"I think even you could grasp that a spy has to appear to be fully in the employ of the person on whom they are spying," said Draco coldly, "Voldemort wanted me to kill Dumbledore, I don't have a choice, Dumbledore must die. I have to appear to be working on a plan for that. What you saw at Borgin and Burkes was me putting in appearances to be doing my bidding."

"You were never going to kill him, were you?" asked Harry quietly.

"Of course he wasn't!" said Snape, "It was my task all along! We couldn't have an underage wizard killing someone, we are not above the law. If Draco had killed Albus than he would be sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"Why aren't you in Azkaban?" Ron said accusingly to Mr. Malfoy.

Lucius smiled, "I've been living here ever since then. It's unplottable, the Ministry couldn't find me, and Albus wasn't inclined to tell them."

Harry put a hand to his head, "I think my brain is going to explode."

"Potter, please have the decency to do that outside. I don't want to be cleaning up your brains later," Draco said.

"It's an expression, Malfoy."

"Oh? I was hoping you were serious." Draco stood up and walked over to the stores of food, after picking through some things he found noodles and cheese and began to boil some water.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron.

"I'm hungry, I'm making macaroni and cheese."

"You can cook?" said Harry surprised.

"Of course I can cook!" said Draco highly affronted, "Now, who's hungry?"

After everyone agreed that they were hungry, Hermione stood up from her place and went over to help Draco prepare lunch, she looked at what he was making and frowned, "You know, macaroni and cheese is hardly a nutritious lunch."

"So says you," he retorted.

"And just about every health book out there."

Draco sighed, "Fine, what do you want to make for lunch?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "Is there any ham?"

Draco nodded and pulled some from the chiller.

Hermione smiled, "I'll make some quiche."

Draco smirked, "I'm sure you will."

Hermione smacked his arm, "Get a cutting board and cut the ham into chunks." She looked in the chiller and pulled out hunks of Swiss, cheddar, and mozzarella cheese. She put them all into a large bowl, pointed her wand at it and the cheese hunks cut themselves into perfect sized cubes.

"Show off!" said Draco from where he was cutting apart the ham

"It's not my fault you can't do this," Hermione said smugly. She pointed her wand at the ham, which cut itself into perfect cubes, exactly the same size as the cheese.

Draco smirked, "You're right, but you can't do this either!" He waved his wand and one of the circular ceramic baking dished soared from the cabinet and landed gently of the counter.

"I can too!"

"Not finished!" He waved his wand in a circular motion inside the pan, coating it with a perfect layer of dough. He picked up the bowl with the cheeses and ham and dumped it into the dough. He waved his wand over the top of the quiche and dough formed a cross-hatch pattern covering the cheese and ham. He looked up at her and smirked, "Now I'm finished. You can't do that!" he said smugly.

Hermione looked impressed, "You've been practicing?"

"Of course, I have. You're besting me in class, I can't have you being a better cook than me as well."

Hermione laughed and pushed Draco away from her, "You know I'm a rotten cook. It shan't be hard to best me in that!"

"You're not terrible," Draco said and paused, he smirked and continued, "If one doesn't mind the flavor of boiled leather tainting everything one eats."

"It's not all that bad!" she shrieked in response.

"Of course, not," said Draco condescendingly. He walked over to the oven with the quiche in hand, opened the door and put the dish inside. He closed the door and turned to look at her, "I really do admire how well you are able to boil water. I don't know if I've seen you fail yet."

The oven dinged behind him, and Draco pulled the finished and cooked quiche from it. He placed it on the counter-top where it steamed and cooled until it could be cut. Then Hermione pointed her wand at it, cutting it into eight equal size slices. Draco then pointed six of the slices onto plates, and levitated them over to the table, one in front of each person. Hermione brought over some forks and napkins and then sat down in front of one of the plates.

Ron dug into the ham and cheese quiche quickly, without a single thought to anything other than slaking his hunger. Harry was slightly more decorous about the whole affair, but he was also busy observing the gentle banter between both Hermione and Draco. They insulted each other as they always had at school, but none of it seemed to be quite as venomous, Harry was surprised to note that Draco was particularly keen on some of Hermione's faults and had no problem pointing them out and making fun of her for them.

They continued eating peacefully until each had finished his plate at which point Lucius said they ought to continue this conversation in the upstairs study where it was much more comfortable. Severus, Draco, and Hermione all readily agreed with him and proceeded to leave the room. Hermione looked back at the two boys who were still sitting at the table.

"Well? Aren't you coming?"

Please Read and Review!

Yipe, very long, very very long. I had to force myself to stop typing here because there is still a lot of information that Harry and Ron have to learn about Hermione, and the Order and all those things must now fall into place. Hopefully it goes well :crosses fingers:

Anyhow, this chapter is very long, just under 6,000 words. It's a bit shorter than some of my other chapters, but I figured this was as good a place as any to stop as it is 15 pages long. Oh, and if you do notice any grammar/spelling/other errors, don't hesitate to say something, they do slip by me sometimes, even through I proofread everything. Thanks.

KaytiSarai