CHAPTER NINE


Summary: The summer after her fifth year, Hermione is attacked in Diagon Alley. As a result she learns more about herself than she ever thought possible. Like how her parents aren't really her parents and her biological father is actually the feared Dark Lord. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon characters or events, they belong to J.K Rowling. I am not making a profit from posting this fanfic.

AN

I hadn't realised how long ago it was that I posted a chapter for this one, and I kind of felt bad and read through all of your reviews which kicked my muse into gear, as it's been very difficult for this one lately.

I've started editing 'A Second Chance Through Time' as it was one of my earlier works and I wasn't happy with it. I've done what I can without re-writing the whole thing, I've changed some dialogue, removed a few non-important contents and added in more in-depth descriptions, and now I feel it better fits my current writing style. Chapters 1-16 have been edited and updated.

Also, I'm about to start editing 'The English Rose' so hopefully I'll have a new chapter posted once I've finished. I reckon there's about five to go, but I can't promise that.

I'll stop my rambling now, enjoy!


Page count: 10


"I thought I'd find you here."

Hermione startled, letting out a little squeak, dropping her quill against the table and almost knocking her parchment to the ground. Her eyes lifted, being surprised to see Draco Malfoy stood in front of her. Her eyes moved from him and searched her surroundings though she knew she'd find there was no one nearby that would see them together. She was in her own little hiding spot at the back of the library and few knew of its existence but apparently, Draco was one of them. She shouldn't have been surprised by that.

She drew her eyes back to him when she heard a chair scraping across the floor and she saw him sitting down opposite her, leaning back and crossing his arms against his chest and cocking a challenging eyebrow, his mouth twitching in amusement.

"You scared the hell out of me," she hissed.

His amusement suddenly faded, his eyes widening a fraction and his mouth pulling into a straight line. She knew why, when she spoke like that she sounded frighteningly like her father.

"You..." He stuttered, unable to finish his train of thought.

"I?" She questioned.

He cleared his throat and gave his head a single shake. "What are you doing here?"

"Bathing" she deadpanned.

"Careful, I almost laughed."

"And it would be such a shame for the world to see Draco Malfoy actually enjoy himself," she rolled her eyes. "I'm doing my homework."

"Already?" He questioned surprised. "I know you're a swot, but I didn't realise it was to this extent."

She almost kicked him beneath the table. Almost.

"It may be the first day of school, but I already have four homework assignments due for next week. I can't afford to waste time, especially with this being our final two years of schooling and our NEWTs are just around the corner."

He blinked slowly. "It's the first day of school, there's two years before the examinations."

"Exactly! Only two years! I've been studying for NEWT level work since I took my last OWL exam."

He rolled his eyes. "Hell, Granger, I thought Nott was bad," he muttered. "Speaking of Nott... I've noticed you've been conversing within him quite a bit today."

Her eyebrow quirked upwards. "Careful, Malfoy, you almost sound jealous that I have another Slytherin acquaintance I can have a civil conversation with."

"I'm not jealous," he denied, shifting in his chair and her mouth twitched.

"Then why bring it up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were being careful."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, I've learned to not give my trust so freely, at this point there are only two names in mind in which I'd trust with my life."

"And they are?" He asked curiously.

"Him and my familiar."

His brow furrowed. "You trust Him? Him of all people?"

"I do, yes," she nodded, reaching for her quill and flipping the page of one of the many open books that littered the surface of the table.

"You don't trust me?"

"Not even in the slightest," she replied, her eyes focusing on the words in front of her.

"There may yet be hope for you surviving Slytherin house."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's in my blood," she replied, her mouth twitching as she knew he wouldn't understand just how true a statement that was. "Slytherin's my home, more so than Gryffindor ever was. Now I'm not held back. Now I can be who I truly am. Now I no longer have to hide certain tendencies that most certainly wouldn't have gone over well with the Gryffindors. Anyway, what are you doing here on the first day back? Shouldn't you be signing a marriage contract with Parkinson?"

He scowled, she didn't have to look at him to know and her mouth twitched in amusement.

"Mippy," he said.

Hermione startled once more when there was a 'pop' beside the table and she lifted her eyes to him, glaring in annoyance whilst his mouth pulled into a smirk. She really wanted to kick him.

"Master called for Mippy," the little house-elf squeaked.

Hermione looked to her, she knew it was a female elf given the lack of hair on the feet, hands and ears. She was small, Hermione realised, especially for an elf and she wore a silver pillowcase which had cap sleeves and a green belt with the Malfoy crest tied around the waist. Her large ears almost touched the ground when she bowed and she also had a smaller than usual nose and large, dark eyes.

"Mippy, bring supper."

"Yes, Master," she squeaked before popping out of view.

"What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow when he saw her glare.

"Must you talk to her in such a manner?" She demanded angrily.

He scoffed. "She's a house-elf, Granger, she lives to take orders. She's been my personal elf since the day I was born."

Her glare was steadily worsening. "I'm aware of that, Malfoy, but surely you can show her some kindness."

"Kindness?" He blinked dumfounded.

"Yes, kindness, or at the very least use your manners. I'm certain you were raised with them. Saying 'please' and 'thank you' is just common courtesy, whether you believe the being to be inferior to you or not. The matter of the fact is, you wouldn't survive without the elves in your manor. Can you cook your own food? Clean your own room? Do your own laundry? I didn't think so. You may be a wizard with magic stronger than a house-elf's, but they have magic, too, and it's powerful in its own right. You may be a wizard capable of tremendous things, but without those little beings, you'd be lost. You don't realise how dependent on them you are, and frankly, that's worrying to me."

He stared at her, his face remaining a blank mask but his eyes slightly wider than normal, showcasing his surprise.

"Now, why have you requested supper, dinner has not yet started."

He let out a chuckle, reaching up to push a fallen strand of hair back into place. "Merlin, Granger, you really are a swot."

"And proud to be," she replied, scowling at him. "What are you even doing here?"

"You are aware that curfew is in forty minutes, yes?"

"What? But that's not possible!" She spluttered.

He raised an eyebrow before pulling his wand from his robes and after casting a Time Charm, it showed that it was, in fact, nine-twenty in the evening. She blinked in surprise.

"I was tasked with keeping an eye on you and I take that seriously. I saw you come here after DADA, you never returned to the common room and I didn't see you at dinner either, so I knew you'd be here, lost in your books. You need to eat."

She was at a loss for words and it wasn't often that happened, so she just stared at him and his cocked eyebrow. The sound of Mippy returning drew her attention and she looked to see the little elf floating a tray behind her and it lowered to the table after several of the books had been closed and stacked up to make room with a snap of her fingers.

The tray held a pot of tea, two teacups and a selection of biscuits and cakes, as well as a bowl of steaming stew and a freshly baked bread roll. Admittedly, her stomach did growl in hunger and her mouth watered at the sight.

"Would Master be needing anything else?" The little elf asked.

"No," he responded, reaching for the pot of tea.

This time Hermione didn't restrain herself and she kicked him in the shin beneath the table. He let out a hiss and glared at her before turning back to the little elf who was wringing her hands in her pillowcase.

"No, thank you," he said, sending Hermione a glare. "If you have no other chores, you may retire for the evening."

"Yes, Master," she bowed. "Miss," she bowed to Hermione, too, which made her blink in surprise and it seemed Draco looked just as shocked, too, but he shook his head.

"Does she stay at the castle?" Hermione asked, accepting her tea from him and putting it off to the side.

She then rolled up her parchment now that it'd had time to properly dry and with a flick of her wand, the remainder of the books closed and stacked themselves up, ready to be returned to their shelves.

"Yes," he answered. "When I'm at Hogwarts, she is, too, just as the personal house-elves to other Pureblood families are."

She frowned at that. "But there's house-elves here."

"Those are for the castle itself, staff members and students who don't have their own house-elves."

"It's not just a pompous, we're-better-than-everyone-else thing?"

He snorted, fixing his own tea and then setting the bowl of stew in front of her along with the bread roll on the saucer.

"Eat," he ordered.

She scowled but picked up the spoon, dipping it into the bowl and bringing it to her mouth, sighing. It was as good as it smelled.

"No, Pureblood's from other houses have their elves here, too. I've seen Longbottom with his elf before, it's just as much of an idiot as he is."

Hermione scowled. "Leave him alone, he's a sweet boy."

"Oh, then why's he not spoken to you since your arrival?"

"He's a sweet boy but he's easily led. There's not a mean bone in his body."

"Plenty of fat though," he snorted. "Owe! Stop kicking me, witch!" He glared, his skin flushing a light pink in his annoyance.

"Then stop being a prat. Neville has done nothing to you, he doesn't deserve your unkind words and I'll have you know, he's starting to fill out and come into his looks."

"You know this, how?" He raised an eyebrow.

"His clothing fits a little tighter to his body than it once did, his ears are no longer too big for his head, he's got a nice smile and he's had a hair cut which compliments his features."

"Have a thing for Longbottom, do we?" He asked, his tone neutral, she noted.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, spooning some more stew into her mouth before reaching for the bread roll and breaking it into smaller pieces she could dip into the steaming dish. "I'd terrify him, I need a partner that's not afraid of me, my intelligence, my temper or my father."

He sat straighter in his chair, his hand pausing over a chocolate biscuit. Over the weeks she'd noticed that he had quite the sweet tooth.

"Why would someone be afraid of your father? The most feared members are part of the inner circle. Wait... Is he a member of the inner circle?" He asked, his eyes gleaming with the possibility of being one step closer to discovering the identity of her father.

"You could say that," she answered, sipping from her own tea and then turning back to her stew.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself, his eyes scanning her face slowly, likely looking for any features that he'd seen on any of the inner circle members. She knew he wouldn't find any. Her father was nothing like his previous, younger self and there was no way he would know what he'd looked like in his younger years. "Lestrange?"

"Which one?" She asked.

"Rabastan,"

"No,"

His brow furrowed. "Rodolphus?" He questioned with slightly wide eyes.

Giving how old she was, he knew that Rodolphus had been married before she was born and since she'd told him her father and mother had only been bedmates, that would mean he'd had an affair.

"No," she snorted. "Do you believe your crazy bitch of an Aunt would allow me to live if I were the illegitimate child of her husband, born out of wedlock and an affair?"

"I suppose not," he admitted.

"You're never going to guess his identity."

"You underestimate me," he replied.

"No, I don't. You just overestimate yourself."

The light ringing of a bell echoed through the library, breaking their staring match and alerting them to the fact the library would be closing in fifteen minutes. Thankfully, Hermione had already finished her meal and she'd put the finishing touches on her homework in her dorm room, having learned everything she needed to.

She silently sipped at her tea, selected a piece of shortbread and a little lemon cake and then he banished everything back to the kitchens. With a wave of her wand, all of the books on the table were sent back to their shelves and she stood, packing her quill and homework into her school bag, and with a second flick of her wand, the shortbread and lemon cake would be waiting for her back at her dorm room, she just hoped Crookshanks didn't get to it before she did.

Silently, she left the library being more than aware that although there were still students milling about and making their way to their common rooms, Draco walked a few steps behind her, not enough to be suspicious about but enough that he'd be able to keep an eye on her, escorting her to the common room.

When she reached the portrait she gave the password and stepped inside, the moment she did so the room fell to silence and there were so many eyes on her, she could barely count them. She came to a standstill, feeling a little overwhelmed before she remembered her father's words.

Your blood is my blood. You are where you belong. You are a Slytherin.

She was a Slytherin and she had just as much right to be there as anyone, even more so given her lineage. She wouldn't cower before them.

Standing tall, she lifted her head and set her shoulders firmly, her eyes sweeping the silent common room until she found the one she was looking for, sat in an armchair at the back of the room, almost hidden by the shadows. Silently, she made her way around the tables and seating arrangements and headed straight to the back of the room, stopping before Theo Nott.

Sensing her presence, he lifted his head from his book, raising a curious, questioning eyebrow. "Yes, Granger?" He spoke, his voice sounding loud in the otherwise silence.

She didn't reply, rather she slipped her hand into her school bag and removed a rolled-up piece of parchment and a book, holding them out to him. His eyes dropped to her offerings and then moved back to her face.

"I've completed my half of Slughorn's assignment and retrieved the book you require to complete yours."

"I thought I was bad," he replied, reaching out to take them from her and settling them on his lap.

"Yes, well," she started, readjusting her bag on her shoulder. "There's a reason I have the best academic record of our year," she replied, turning on her heel and making her way towards the girl's staircase, leaving behind his amused twitch of the mouth, the whispers that broke out and Draco who entered the common room at that very moment, catching the tail end of her discussion.

~000~000~000~

"Drakey-Poo," Parkinson shrieked, batting her eyelashes and gesturing for him to sit beside her.

He pulled a face and looked to Nott. With a single tip of his head in his direction, he turned and headed for his own dorm room, stepping inside with Nott following him in after moments later.

"Leave," he ordered, looking to Crabbe and Goyle who were lounging on their beds and stuffing their faces as usual. They blinked at him dumbly. "Now!" He snapped.

They both startled but were quick to climb off their beds and rush out of the room, the door shutting behind them. Nott raised an eyebrow as he set his things down on his bed and then leaned against the bedpost whilst Draco removed his robes and cast a Silencing Charm around the room and then he turned to face him.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Nott drawled, looking bored.

"What are you planning?"

"Planning? You'll have to be more specific."

"Granger,"

"I haven't the foggiest what you mean," Nott replied, lifting his arms to cross over his chest.

"Don't play dumb with me, we both know you're up to something. I've been watching the two of you together all day."

Nott raised an eyebrow. "She is my lab partner."

"And the rest of the day? You chose to sit beside her. I know you did."

Nott shrugged. "What can I say? She's grown remarkably pretty over the years and she is The Brightest Witch in the school, regardless of her blood."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust you with her."

"And you care, why?"

Draco pursed his lips. "You and I both know for reasons we're not aware of, she's suddenly forsaken Potter, and He's protecting her. Her being moved to Slytherin is dangerous."

"And this is your problem, because?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I've been ordered to keep an eye on her and make sure no harm comes to her, from anyone including those of this house."

"Your point?"

Draco clenched his hands into fists. "My point is, whatever it is you're planning, I won't let you harm her."

Nott's eyebrow quirked. "Who's to say I wish to harm her? Maybe my intentions towards her are more than academic."

Draco felt his eye twitch and his mouth pulled into a thin line. "She's a Mudblood," he replied, knowing fine well she hadn't told anyone but him about her true lineage, at least, part of it.

"Right? Unlike you, I can appreciate intelligence and beauty no matter the blood of a witch. Unlike my father, I'm not blinded by hatred."

Draco blinked slowly. "You're saying you don't believe Mudbloods are weak and vile?"

Nott shrugged his shoulders. "There's been numerous powerful Muggleborn witches throughout history and there's no actual evidence to prove they do steal our magic. I won't go as far to say I'll marry one, knowing my father will kill us both, but for the time being and whilst we're in school, I won't object to having the affections of Miss. Granger."

"Because she has favour with Him," Draco spoke.

"Maybe, maybe not. And I can't help but find your hypocritical words amusing."

"Excuse me?" He questioned, reeling back slightly.

Nott's mouth pulled into a smirk. "Don't play dumb, Malfoy. You and I both know you never tortured her the way you did because you hated her. I've known for years you've been harbouring a crush on her, even when she had big teeth and bushy hair."

Draco's jaw ticked and his nails dug into his palms until he felt the sting of broken skin.

"She's grown out of both, and even when she's wearing her robes I can see she's no longer a child, but a young woman with a body half the female populace would be jealous of. I've always had my suspicions about you but it was all made clear to me the night of the Yule Ball. I've never seen you so surprised or furious, surprised by her beauty but angry that she was on the arm of Viktor Krum. Last year when you were a part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, I know you always targeted her, I saw the way you held her to you when marching her to Umbridge's office. And to be honest, I don't care. It's clear you're never going to interact with her in any way but that of a tormentor because you can't see past her blood."

Draco refused to reply to his words, neither admitting nor denying it.

"I won't let you mess things up for me," he said. "If anything happens to her it's my head."

"Then you best keep your focus on Parkinson and Greengrass. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be," Nott spoke, pushing himself away from the bedpost, grabbing something off his bedside table and then leaving the room with the door shutting behind him.

~000~000~000~

"Nott?" Hermione questioned in surprise, staring at the wizard on the other side of her door.

In the time she'd retired to her room, she'd lit the fireplace, prepared her school bag for the following day of classes and changed into her pyjamas, a silver silk spaghetti strap top, the matching shorts and her bunny slippers.

Nott's mouth twitched at the corners, his eyes slowly raking down her body, once, twice before pausing on her chest and then returning to her face with a raised eyebrow. She flushed pink and silently summoned her robe, this one silk green and tying it around herself. If she were honest, before she would've preferred red, but she was becoming quite partial to the colour green.

"Nice slippers, Granger," he commented, stepping into her room without invitation, walking to the centre and looking around his surroundings, noting the room only housed one student and not multiple.

"Please, do come in," she said sarcastically and he looked back to her, his mouth quirking into a smile. "Thank you, they were a gift from my mother," she replied to his comment, not rising to the bait. "How did you even get up here?" She asked him, knowing there were enchantments on both the girl's and boy's staircase to prevent members of the opposite sex from sneaking about. He didn't reply to her question. "Fine, what are you doing here? If the others saw you sneaking up here, I'm sure they'll make a spectacle of it. I imagine that'll ruin your reputation, the Pureblood sneaking around with the Muggleborn."

"I've never really cared what people thought of me," he shrugged his shoulders, before holding his hand out and she noticed a rolled up piece of parchment.

Curiously, she took it from him, unrolling it and her eyes scanning the contents, raising an eyebrow when she saw the runic symbols.

"I've completed my half of the ancient runes assignment."

"Are you trying to put me to shame, Nott?" She asked amused. "Whilst I was able to finish potions, DADA and arithmancy, I was unable to finish ancient runes before curfew and had to leave the library. When did you do this? I didn't see you in the library."

"During my lunch hour," he replied.

"Well, I'll have mine finished by tomorrow lunch and I'll hand it into Babbling during my free period."

"You've a free period tomorrow?"

"Yes, second period after herbology."

"Me, too," he mused. "Why do you have your own room?" He asked, changing the subject and his eyes once more taking in his surroundings, noticing her familiar curled up by the fire and the single, green-silver rose in the vase on her bedside table which earned a curious look.

"Dumbledore may be a fool, but he understands that placing me in a room with the other girls in my year wouldn't be the wisest of decisions."

"And the rose? I've never seen anything like it."

"Not that it's any of your business, but it was a gift. Now, is there anything else or was that it?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" He asked amused.

"Yes, I thought that was obvious."

His mouth pulled into that attractive half-smile. "Very well, Granger, I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Nott," she responded, following him to the door, opening it for him and once he stepped out into the corridor, he looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes trailing her form once more, his mouth twitching into a smirk before he walked away.