A/N: Hey, this is ALMOST a weekly update. I'm getting better. Anyway, no Draco/Hermione action this chapter.
SauerKirsche: It's good to see your name :) I'm glad you didn't abandon me!
xSerenityIsn'tAlwaysTheAnswerx: Thanks for the good luck, I'm starting to look forward to being a mother :)
Megan Consoer: Hello, I haven't seen you around here before :) Here's the next chapter you requested :)
She calmly dragged her feet into Harry's office and waited for him to join her. The girl mentally went over the entire lesson. She had done nothing wrong, and taken meticulous notes. Hermione berated herself for jumping to such a rash conclusion.
He doesn't know it's you! You look nothing like Hermione Granger, you don't even sound like her anymore! Calm down,she commanded herself, unconcerned with the fact she had taken to mentally referring to herself in the third person.
"Hello Hermione."
"I have no clue what you're talking about, Professor," Hermione responded swallowing the bile that had threatened to expel from her mouth.
"Don't mess with me Hermione; you were never a good liar: it doesn't suit you."
Hermione saw the hurt cross Harry's face, saw how he had attempted to mask the pain by displaying anger and contempt. The resulting look broke the girl's heart. She sighed heavily and choked out, "How long have you known?"
"It doesn't matter how long; the point is that you didn't tell me!" fumed the bespectacled boy.
Hermione wrung her fingers in the chair, becoming less comfortable by the second. She managed to choke out an explanation as to why she had been secretive since she left for France.
"Towards the end of the final battle, Mrs. Malfoy saved my life. Before she died she made me promise to look after her son. Originally, I'd planned to keep him out of Azkaban, and then we'd call it even. But I couldn't just leave it at that…
"Don't give me that look Harry, you and I both saw his face at the trial. He was a shell of a man. I followed him to Paris just to check up on him. I heard he was returning to Hogwarts, through a mutual acquaintance we had in the city. That's where this look came from," she paused and indicated at her own face, before continuing, "McGonagall knows, she arranged for me to be put in Slytherin. He can't know it's me or else he won't let me help him."
Other than a few strange looks and a scoff at the mention of Malfoy, Harry Potter had remained silent throughout Hermione's explanation. It fit perfectly with the witch's character: she was always rooting for the downtrodden and broken. She fought for the house elves, after all, and she was always the first to defend Neville Longbottom.
"I understand what you're doing – I guess, but what I don't get is why you couldn't tell me."
"You'd have stopped me. You haven't spoken to Dra-Malfoy since the war, you wouldn't believe that he'd changed," Hermione replied, "I sometimes don't believe it myself."
Harry sighed, and slumped into his own chair, choosing to ignore her almost usage of the blonde wizard's first name. The defensive part of his brain chose to believe that it was from pretending to be his friend, rather than an actual term of familiarity.
"You can always trust me, Hermione. You know that."
Outside the door, a certain pug-faced witch held her hand over her mouth. She had just heard the most interesting conversation. She had just returned to the defence against the dark arts classroom room for her textbook and heard a heated conversation between her professor and whom she had assumed was a student.
"You can always trust me Hermione, you know that," came Harry's voice from inside the classroom.
Since when is the mudblood back? She asked herself, knitting her brows together firmly.
She crept up to the stairs, but before she could climb them, the door swung inward. Using all of her will, she dived under the staircase until the girl came out and descended them. Pansy glanced out from her hiding spot and saw a curly blonde head making her way across the room towards the exit.
A plan was already formulating in the Slytherin's mind. She had enough dirt on this girl to ruin her life.
Oh, I'm sure Draco would love to meet the real Lily, she laughed to herself, leaving her hiding spot.
"Miss Parkinson, can I help you?" Harry asked, coming out of his office and seeing her crossing the room.
"Oh, nothing, Professor," she sneered, "Just forgot my book is all."
"Well hurry up, I need to lock this door."
Pansy left the room in a cheery mood. Things may actually go her way yet.
Lucius Malfoy crept through Godric's Hollow. No one would think to look for him in the birthplace of Harry Potter. A fitting place to hide, but that did not make him pleased to have to hide like a common thief. He was a Malfoy, and a Malfoy deserved every luxury fitting his financial status.
The loosely packed snow crunched underfoot, and feet rapidly began to sting from the inferior lining in what was left of his Dragon skin boots. He glanced around at the dilapidated stone buildings and snorted at the fact the ministry had yet to live up to their promise of restoring the old village. The only thing that had changed in this town was the statue of the Potter family in the square.
Well, that is the ugliest statue I've ever seen, and I had to stare at the elf in the ministry for years, he chuckled to himself.
"Lucius Malfoy?" a voice inquired, and he slowly turned his head, prepared to strike this potential threat down.
"We were friends of Draco at Hogwarts…" the first managed.
"We fought with you in the final battle," the other added on, his voice stronger than the first's.
Both wizards dropped their wands to the ground as a sign of good faith, taking a gamble on whether this action would get them killed.
"Crabbe and Goyle's boys? What on earth are the two of you doing in this hole," he replied, indicating to the state of their surroundings.
"We were actually about to ask you the same question, Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius Malfoy stared at the two boys. It further proved his originally theory that Hogwarts was populated by mudbloods and idiots, these two fitting into the latter category.
"What do you think I'm doing here? You assumed that I'd just waltz into the manor and allow the Aurors to recapture me?"
The boys exchanged glances and raised their eyebrows at the sarcastic statement from the Malfoy patriarch. "Well, I guess not…"
Lucius' discussion with the bottom of the intellectual barrel was interrupted by a tawny barn owl that landed on his shoulder and currently sticking its leg out. Whoever it belong to it had been well trained, and likely found him quickly. The news would be fresh.
He snatched the letter from it, swiftly snapping its neck in case it had been tracked there.
Mr. Malfoy, I've received word that you had escaped from Azkaban. I'm sure the story will be fascinating, if I am ever lucky enough to hear it.
I realize the danger in contacting you, but you may be interested to know that your son is associating with a woman who is well beneath him. Not only is she beneath him, she's the woman who your sister-in-law was aiming at when your wife was tragically hit.
Hermione Granger.
Now, I know you can't do much, but I want you to know that I am doing all I can to solve this problem and bring your son back to me.
I thought you'd be interested to know.
Pansy Parkinson
Lucius Malfoy crumpled the letter in his hand and sighed heavily. There was no way in hell he'd let the idiot Parkinson daughter to bring his son to his senses. His stupid wife had apparently done a better job than he'd originally thought on softening the boy.
He smiled at the two boys and asked if they still had friends in the castle. He would bide his time and see what the Parkinson girl came up with. Upon her eventual failure, he would send one of these boys off and bring the boy to him. If they could get hold of the Granger girl, his son would undoubtedly follow. He always did grow unhealthy attachments and, once again, it was Lucius' job to relieve him of it.
A/N: There it is. Reviews are yummy and I enjoy reading them :]
