Draco sat up, his head swimming. It was dawn, as the early morning sun shone through the windows. What had happened?

Staring back at him, a frightened look in her eyes, Hermione walked slowly over towards the bed, her hand brushing over his arm as he flinched.

"Draco, you really do need help. I can't sort this out anymore," said Hermione, her voice barely a whisper.

All he could remember was the choking strain of Nagini's tail twisted around him, and, breathing heavily, realised that the nightmare had taken control of him. What could I have done? How on earth am I supposed to control what goes on in my mind when I sleep?

"I'm fine." His voice was hoarse, and he conjured up a glass of water on the table beside him, but found that his hands were shaking uncontrollably. "What happened?"

Her eyes widening, Hermione could not believe how indifferent he was about it. She had woken up in the middle of the night, not from any for of nightmare, thankfully, but from a yell in the other room. It was only once she arrived in the room she realised that Draco was out of control. The candles on the mantelpiece had burst into flame, the orange glow licking at the walls, but as soon as she had woken him up they had disappeared, and there seemed to be no effect to the room at all. He had been twisting in his bed, muttering to himself; this was reminiscent of the many times she had warned Harry about letting Voldemort into his mind. But this, this was not anything to do with Voldemort, from what she thought, but the aftermath of his maegery incident several months ago. Was there any connection between the two?

She crawled over the duvet, sitting right beside his shivering body as she explained what she had witnessed, but he would not make eye contact or any recognition of what she was saying. Draco took another deep breath, and tried to calm himself down, but it was no good, he couldn't pretend about how he felt in front of Hermione. Her finger traced along his neck and he looked up hesitantly, his eyes slowly starting to water, with the first crystaline tears falling down his scarily pale cheeks.

"It was me. I started this. I'm s-sorry."

He sobbed against her arm, letting the tears flow fully. He didn't care anymore. He had put both Hermione and himself in danger, and he didn't know how. The only thing he had learnt from this night was that his father knew he was supposed to have died. This left many more questions yet to be answered. Why? How? It couldn't have been a simple nightmare, or the consequences wouldn't have been so extreme.

Hermione hugged him close, her arms grasped around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair. She was there for him, but what could she do?

"Whatever's happened, I don't blame you. I promise, I'll try to help you."

"How? I can't control it!" He held her back and looked into her eyes, which were also tear-stained. " I should never have caused you so much trouble. If only I'd-"

"What? Please, listen to me, you saved me that night, and a few times before that, now I remember." She laughed softly near his ear, which comforted him. "I understand..."

"I swear, you don't. You can't even begin to think what's happened since I became a Death Eater - yes, I don't claim myself to be one now - but how can I change the past?"

"Well tell me, I have all the time in the world. Tell me, what happened."

"Ever since I was little, everything was perfect. My parents gave me anything I wanted, and I loved them. But, my father... ever since I became a Death Eater, he changed," His arm twitched as he spoke, and he couldn't bear to look at the everlasting mark on his forearm, because it proved everything about him. He was stupid and naive towards the Dark Arts. "He never hurt me, apart from my mark, as if I wasn't worthy of it. I kept running away, to Blaise's, but I couldn't leave my mother with him. There were nights I couldn't get to sleep because I could hear them shouting at each other. He was never the same after that. It was only after you escaped from the Manor that he seemed to be... well, the same, or starting to be at least," A sudden thought struck him. "You say you destroyed some of the Horcruxes by then, yes?"

Hermione nodded, and encouraged him to speak, not sure herself where this would lead to.

"Well what if it's not just me? The Horcrux, the knife I mean, what if it affected him too?"

"Draco... I don't know. I thought he was a bad man, yes, but why would V-" She couldn't say his name anymore; it made her feel sick. "Why would You-know-who want to embide a Horcrux to your family?"

"We were a Pureblood family, almost completely pure, as far as I know. I never knew of any Muggles in the family tree, so..." He breathed in again, to calm himself. "So it would have helped him, somehow, I know it. We never knew much about Horcruxes or many other forms of Dark Magic, up until I heard you talking about them in Hogwarts,when you were talking about the diadem."

"How did you know? I found two books at your house about Horcruxes, not very detailed, but how could Lucius not think..."

They sat in silence, cuddled close to each other. Draco had one theory in his head: Horcruxes. It was the only plausible explanation he could think of at that moment, though he was sure it wasn't the only thing. When they were in the graveyard, they were going to try and bring Voldemort back, he knew, but why did they need Hermione and him?

"Draco, there are no more Horcruxes. He can't come back." said Hermione, finally.

He didn't care if Voldermort ever came back, he missed his father, and he had only thought about him properly during that nightmare, which ended disastorously.

"It was because I saved you. This is why I can't control my magic."

"You can, but you know there are some forms of magic that take forever to master. Don't think of it as a curse, it's a gift."

"Some gift. It nearly killed us."

Unable to stay in bed any longer he stood up and headed for the bathroom, where, once he had shut the door, sighed deeply and slid down to the floor. I need to get her away from here.

xxx

"Bit of a role reversal, isn't it?"

Hermione had constantly asked if Draco was feeling well, and was at least happy to see him smiling after the morning's events. She had to prepare for her interview in two days, and was slightly aggravated to know that the engagement party was on the same day.

"Don't hate me, but I have one more surprise for you on the eighteenth."

"I could never hate you."

She headed upstairs again, smiling to herself, and Draco walked to the door, wanting a small talk with Blaise, if he thought this charm on the house was some kind of joke, or it wasn't him at all.

xxx

"Hi, Drake. What-"

Draco, wearing a slightly peeved expression on his face asked Blaise straight out what was going on.

"Sorry, but when I left, there wasn't anything wrong with the place, as far as I know. But I have news on that Prophet photo. The editor said it was definitely a woman, about twenty years old, pale, but she was wearing a cloak, so she's trying to hide herself, and make some quick money from it too. I wish I could help further, but I've been trying to sort everything else out-"

"Thanks for trying, anyway. You're not busy in the eighteenth then?" Draco smiled, not surprised by the lack of information. But at least their theory was correct, it must have definitely been the Death Eater.

"Oh sorry, I'll be busy preparing my ballroom, won't I?" Blaise replied, though he didn't seem annoyed by his tone of voice.

"Thanks, I mean, I don't know what I'd've done otherwise, there's not much space for seventy odd people-"

"Seventy? I thought there were only going to be a few friends?"

"Well, forty or fifty, it all depends on how many owls we get back. How many so far?"

"Thirty six, mostly Gryffindors, but that's besides the point-"

"No, I'll pay for everything." Draco said defiantly, knowing Blaise had enough work at the Ministry to be dealing with, although it was a fairly quiet week.

"Deal. Wish Hermione good luck from me for the interview, by the way."

A fleeting thought jumped into Draco's mind: Does he have any feelings for her?

He knew that if Blaise did still like Hermione, still, since Christmas, that Blaise would not be able to do anything about it anyway, considering the fact it would be a betrayal of Draco's trust. No, that would be crazy. Hermione would know how to deal with him though, surely.

He banished the thought from his mind, and hoped himself that Hermione would do well at the interview, which seemed to be nearing every hour.

Yeah, yeah, April Fools' Day! I thought I might as well add this chapter now, because I need to focus on my revision for my mock exams, but I'll probably be writing instead.... ;)