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LCailan


12. Secrets


The following morning dawned cooler than any since the beginning of the school year. Hermione left the girls' dormitory, bundling herself up in her red and gold striped scarf and moving quickly to try and avoid Ron.

The common room was nearly empty that morning and even though he wasn't there, the only person Hermione could think of was Draco.

He was here just last night; kissing me in front of the dying fire.

She stood before it now, dazed.

Right here, wasn't it?

She blinked.

He had to have planned on following me! How did he get the Gryffindor password? Has he been following…?

The sound of chattering students coming down from the dormitories stopped Hermione's train of thought. Her cheeks were flushed as she clutched her books to her chest and whirled around, heading towards the portrait hole.

"Hermione."

Too late. I was too distracted and now I have to face him.

She slowed without turning around, waiting until she felt Ron at her side.

"I waited for hours last night."

Hermione could tell that Ron was trying his best not to sound annoyed or angry. She stopped moving entirely, which allowed the rest of the students to pass by them, irritated that they were in the way. The bushy-haired Gryffindor waited several seconds for the room to clear out and then she turned to face Ron, taking a huge breath.

"I'm sorry, Ron."

She hated seeing the hurt written on his face; Hermione hated always loathed hurting either Ron or Harry. But now, things were different. She was different. Draco had made her…

"I can try to explain if you'll let me," she added quickly. "We can grab something from the Great Hall and go somewhere private?"

Sullenly, Ron agreed.


Draco was having a difficult time pretending he cared what Pansy was saying to him or what Crabbe and Goyle – who were supposedly his closest friends – were going on about. It was all he could do to keep from screaming at the lot of them.

I should have come here alone.

Every time he thought the others around him weren't looking, Draco would chance a glance towards the nearly empty Gryffindor tables on the other side of the Great Hall. He didn't want to get caught, not ready or willing to explain his sudden fascination with all things Gryffindor…and his growing desire for Hermione Granger.

Especially Granger.

Draco shuddered for the briefest of moments wondering how he would ever explain…his involvement with a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born at that! Not only did he have his friends to deal with but he could only imagine the contention waiting for him in Wiltshire the moment his father found out.

Merlin's left tit!

"Are you all right, Draco?" asked Pansy in a saccharine tone, gazing up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Fine. Just cold," he replied stiffly, trying not to hold her gaze longer than necessary. He wasn't about to give anyone the wrong impression. It was true that Draco wasn't the type of bloke to lead anyone on – and he had worked diligently to assure that Pansy knew he didn't want her – but she was the type of girl who didn't take no for an answer. Which was unfortunate.

"If you want, we can head down to the greenhouses for class. It's always warmer down there," she suggested, leaning closer. He knew she was putting on a caring act for his benefit; Pansy was not a caring sort.

"Go on ahead if you want," he replied in a bored tone. "I'll stay here, finish this disgusting slop and catch up on reading for History of Magic."

Pansy made an exaggerated sad face.

"But I'm lonely without you," she murmured in what he supposed was her 'sexy' voice.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Pansy. I'm not in the mood."

She made a face and sighed, knowing when to let well enough alone.

"Well, I'll see you in class then. I'll save you a space by me on the benches," she said saucily and Draco ignored her which was the easiest thing in the world to him. He waited until she was gone to fully focus on his oatmeal and bury his nose in a schoolbook – one which he would later not recall the title of. The rest of the Slytherins began to trickle away from the table, off to morning lessons.

When Draco thought it was safe to lower his book, his first glace was towards the Gryffindor table once again. Surely, by this time she would be there.

But she hadn't yet made an appearance and Draco loathed the way his heart sank.

Just bloody great. Now I'll be late to class and for nothing.

He didn't acknowledge the fact that seeing Hermione would have made being late to class completely worth it. He lingered a few more seconds before finally giving up, tossing his spoon back into the oatmeal that tasted strangely of cement, and standing to gather his things. Though Draco prided himself on being quite smart he hadn't yet come up with a way to ensure he would see Granger as often as he wanted – class assignments not counting. He knew her friends would disapprove and his would make fun of him. But what worried – and frightened – him most was what his family would think.

Bloody hell, Draco! You're acting as if this thing between you and Granger were serious!

Yet another thing Draco didn't acknowledge was the fact that in some part of his mind whatever was going on between him and Hermione was serious. Yes part of the draw was physical but beyond that…

He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice that a pair of students were walking into the Great Hall just as he was walking out – and he plowed them down rather ungracefully.

As Hermione pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy plowed into her quite unceremoniously.

"Great," muttered Ron from behind her. "Just bloody wonderful."

"Watch where you're going, Granger!" Draco hissed.

She noticed his face was paler than usual, although perhaps it happened to be the contrast between his skin and the black turtleneck he was wearing beneath his school robes. Still, when their eyes met Hermione couldn't help but notice how tense he seemed.

"You plowed into me," she replied, not allowing him to bully her.

His silvery eyes narrowed a fraction and for a moment Hermione was certain he would say something. Much to her surprise, Malfoy kept silent, his jaw obviously clenched.

"I don't have time for this rubbish," he finally said. "The two of you make me sick."

The vehemence in his words was so harsh even Ron – oblivious to most everything – was aware of it. As Draco shoved past her angrily, Hermione wasn't able to keep from turning slightly, her eyes following him just as he turned to catch her gaze. The look was intense and lasted a few seconds longer than it should have.

Unfortunately, Ron was not thick enough to miss that either and it brought out his inner green-eyed monster.

"Then why don't you get out of my face, Malfoy?" the red-headed boy raged. "Why are you always creeping around me and my friends? Could it be that you're a loser? Maybe you've got nothing better to do with your pathetic life but follow Gryffindors around? When will you get it through that thick loaf of yours that no one here likes you or wants you around? We all hate you, Malfoy!"

The rage that fueled Ron's words wasn't from his hatred of Malfoy as much as it the rage of a teenaged boy who was struggling to maneuver his way through the unknown territory of having a romantic relationship.

Draco let out a mirthless laugh.

"You're a complete imbecile, Weasley. I actually feel second hand embarrassment for you."

His lip curled up into a sneer.

"Truth be told, you're dafter than I originally thought. You wouldn't know what people are feeling and thinking if your life depended on it. So please don't lecture me about where I should and shouldn't be."

Draco's voice was chilly in the face of Ron's red hot rage. Though his silvery eyes blazed with unspoken insults and derision, he reigned himself in, his eyes flickering from Ron's face over to Hermione.

"Granger, you want me around, don't you?" he asked silkily.

Hermione's heart caught in her throat as her eyes pleaded with him silently.

Please don't say anything…please don't say anything!

Draco searched her face quizzically, his eyes communicating much more than the casualness with which he was regarding her.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," she lied weakly. "Please don't make this more than it is."

The blond Slytherin looked from Hermione to Ron carefully, choosing in the end to focus on Ron.

"My, Weasley, you are touchy, aren't you? Something not so perfect going on between you and Granger? Maybe trouble in paradise? Why else would you be acting so…territorial? But don't you worry; I have no intentions on touching your precious girlfriend."

My intentions go much, much deeper than that.

Draco smirked.

"I would rather die than sully myself that way," he added slyly, causing Ron to grow predictably angry. "Now, if we're done here, I've got to get going," he added sweeping past a flabbergasted Ron. His eyes met Hermione's for the briefest of moments, lingering on her mouth and then dragging up and down her body, causing a shock of electricity to run through her.

"Granger," he muttered under his breath and she thought that the word sounded almost…tender.

Then he was gone, leaving a very angry and frustrated Ron behind.

"I hate him!" he roared, stomping over to the empty Gryffindor and jamming his rucksack full of fruit and pastries. "What a slimy, hateful little snake! How dare he spew such garbage about you?!"

Hermione was slightly taken aback by Ron's outburst, wondering why he was so angry. True, Malfoy had the ability to make Ron angry all the time but something…something about this moment was different.

"Ron," she found herself saying softly. "Let it go; he's gone. It's not worth it."

The same words she had used in the past when trying to calm Harry or Ron down now sounded hollow in her ears. How was it that Ron should let it go when Hermione was having trouble staying away?

Ron's blue eyes were spitting in her direction as he took a few calming breaths and glared at her.

"I'll never understand you," he snapped. "After everything that Malfoy's put all of us through, it's almost like you don't care and you'd defend him!"

Hermione bristled.

"Defend him? I haven't said anything in his defense! It's just common sense, isn't it? What's your anger going to accomplish, Ronald?"

Ron was still angry.

"There's just something…in the way he looks at you, Hermione. And the fact that you never even asked to switch project partners – as if you WANT to work with him!"

"Ron, come off it! I'm not having this ridiculous conversation with you!"

"I almost feel betrayed, Hermione! You've hardly been around lately and you spend more time with that bloody ferret than you do with you real friends!"

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.

"Betrayed?" she echoed loudly, hands on her hips. "You think I'm betraying you? Have you gone completely mad? And some friends you've been!" she snapped. "Last week a chess set was more important than talking with me! And the week before I might as well have been invisible when Quidditch started up for the year! The only time you and Harry ever bother with me is if you need help with your lessons!"

Her face was pink with defiance as Ron glared down at her his own eyes narrowed with fury.

"That's not true!"

"It is, Ronald Bilius and you know it!"

Ron flung his hands up in the air, a look of sadness mixing with his anger.

"Fine," he muttered. "I give up. Do what you want; I'm leaving."

Without another word or even to check if Hermione was following him, he stalked out of the Great Hall, rucksack bulging with food.


Only a few students remained in the cavernous room and Hermione stood in place surprised she didn't feel more sadness or guilt. In fact, she felt very little besides righteous anger.

Let him walk away then! I know I'm right; HE knows I'm right!

Hermione ignored the furtive looks and whispers as she exited the Great Hall, head held high.

As the day wore on, Hermione's anger faded and the familiar feeling of guilt began to replace it once again. She felt guilty that she had hurt Ron; she felt terrible that her best friends were upset with her. Classes were torturous as Ron was not speaking to her and Harry, obviously torn between his two best friends, ultimately chose Ron.

As Hermione sat through her morning classes alone she realize how sad it was that Ron and Harry were her only real friends.

Or maybe I've been so wrapped up in them all this time that I've disconnected from everyone else?

Despite having been resolved not to ingratiate herself with Ron, Hermione ended up asking Professor Trelawney for a change in partner for the assignment, speaking loudly enough for the whole class to hear. Puzzled, the bug-eyed teacher agreed and Hermione returned to her seat near the back of the classroom, looking anywhere but at Malfoy, whose gaze burned through her. The smile that Ron gave her at the end of lessons did nothing to ease the sadness inside Hermione. Without waiting for him, she hurried down the spiral staircase away from the Divination tower and rushed towards the library to her favorite hiding place.

It was a nook between two tall stacks of dusty books: a shadowy, disused part of the library to where she had long ago dragged an old chair to sit on. There she could pass away hours without anyone finding her; even though Ron and Harry knew she spent hours in the library they weren't sure exactly where she went while she was there. But on that day, Hermione couldn't read. Instead she sat on her chair, pulled her knees up to her chin and stared ahead unseeingly. She remained there until suppertime.


Harry looked around the dimly lit Great Hall. Neville and Ginny sat in front of him, Ron to his left and Dean to his right. Conversation was light and flitted from Quidditch to the latest assignment in Potions and Herbology and then to the latest rumors going around.

The only person missing was Hermione and Harry knew that he wasn't the only one aware of that fact; Ron looked sullen as he stirred his fork through his potatoes listlessly.

"Just give her time, mate," Harry said in a low voice so that only Ron could hear. "She'll come around."

Ron made a face.

"All we do lately is row," he muttered. "This morning was a bad one but I thought for sure after she talked to Trelawney and switched assignment partners that things would be back to normal!"

Harry sighed uncertain on how to reply. As Ron took a hesitant bite of his supper, a stack of books hit the table on the other side of Ron's plate announcing Hermione's arrival. She sat down and reached for a plate, giving everyone a mild smile.

"Where have-"

Ron stopped, turning red and paused to rephrase his words.

"I-I wondered where you were."

"I was at the library," she replied breezily, helping herself to some steaming onion soup. "And lost track of time."

Ron seemed to visibly relax as Hermione began to eat her supper and just when things were starting to go back to normal, the tawny and gray owl dropped an envelope right next to Hermione's bowl. Conversation around her dropped to a hushed murmur and Ron's suspicious gaze nearly burned holes through the beige-colored envelope.

"Who's that from?" he asked in a poorly executed nonchalance.

Hermione had nearly choked on her first bite of stew when the owl had appeared. Though everyone around her was whispering in curiosity – students hardly ever received post at suppertime – she knew who it was from. A thrill rushed through her and she fought with all her might not to glance over at the Slytherin tables.

Malfoy – it had to be.

"I don't know, Ron," she said quickly glancing at him. His neck was craned so far in her direction she thought it might break off.

"Well, are you going to open it?" he asked eagerly causing Hermione to frown.

"It's my post and I'll open it when I want to!" she retorted hotly.

The red-haired boy was taken aback and with a scowl, he pulled away from her, every inch of his face tense with anticipation. As he watched, Hermione tucked the envelope into one of her many books and then proceeded to eat as if nothing had happened. Everyone at the table reluctantly returned to their previous conversations though Hermione could see them glancing at her furtively from time to time. She also noted that Ron would not eat and she felt him watching her although she did not return his gaze.

When supper was finished she rose.

"I'll see you all in the Common Room," she said and then gave Ron a pointed glance. "And if you think I'm going to open that letter when you're around, you've got another one coming. Might as well just enjoy the rest of your evening."

She didn't look to see if Ron would respond, walking briskly from the dining hall and into the cooler, empty entrance room beyond.

But Hermione heard Ron's footsteps echoing behind her moving quickly to catch her just beyond the doors to the Great Hall.

"I knew there was a reason why you've been so distant!" he exclaimed. "You've got a boyfriend, haven't you? That's why you won't open that letter!"

Flushing pink, Hermione grew defensive.

"No, I do not have a boyfriend, Ronald Weasley! And do you want to know why?" she snapped in reply. "I can't handle the jealousy and smothering! Look at you, Ron! You left supper early to come after me because you're dying to know if some other boy sent me a note?"

Ron was red with embarrassment, indignant words falling from his lips.

"You're lying! I know you're talking to someone; you have to be! Where else would you go if you weren't with Harry and me?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"You're a daft prick! I'm sorry I even entertained the thought of dating you!" she hissed. "I suppose that you think you're the only boy who would give me the time of day, don't you?"

She shrugged giving him a cold glare.

"Piss off," she muttered. "I'm done with this and with you."

She whirled around to head for the staircase and turned only to give Ron one last glare.

"Truthfully, I don't know who the letter is from but now I hope it IS from another boy. I hope it's from someone who actually cares about me."

And with that, she was gone.


Hermione sat down in the corner of the cavernous bathroom – the only place she thought she might be alone: Myrtle's bathroom. She pulled the envelope from between her books and opened it. The letter fell into her lap and her heart skipped a beat at the now familiar scrawl.

Granger,

Meet me tonight at midnight. Fifth floor by Boris' statue.

Malfoy

She stared at his large print, the easy way it seemed to flow. Quickly so that no one would see – especially not Myrtle who was hiding in her usual stall – she folded it closed and tucked it into the depths of her robes.

Midnight was several hours away and long past curfew.

He wants to meet by the Prefect's bathroom. How in the world does he have the password?

It didn't really matter; Malfoy always had a way of getting exactly what he wanted. Sighing, Hermione stood, gathered her belongings and made her way to the door leading to the third floor corridor. If she was going to meet Malfoy she would have to try and finish her schoolwork first.

And I intend on meeting him.


The Slytherin common room was nearly empty by a quarter till midnight. Draco sat on one of the green sofas staring into the fire across from him. On the other side of the room Blaise Zabini was standing up and stretching after a long bout with one of his assignments.

"Coming up, mate?" he asked.

"No. I'm not tired."

The dark-skinned boy grinned.

"Meeting up with Pansy tonight?"

"Sod off," Draco replied.

"Come on, you can tell me! We all know you're shagging her."

Draco shot Blaise a look of disdain.

"I swear that people just want something to talk about! They can all piss of for all I care and for the record, I have never and will never sleep with Pansy Parkinson."

Blaise looked interested in spite of himself.

"Truly?"

Draco stood, stretched and rolled his eyes.

"People are all idiots. She wants them to think I'd shag her but yes, truly, I haven't. I can't sleep and people simply must make up rumors about me I suppose."

He kept his tone flat and bored and though he could see his dark-skinned friend had questions, in the end he left the room moving in the direction of the boys' dormitory.

Draco sat still for a few moments and then rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. Inside nestled a tiny, silver pendant in the shape of a rose. Running a finger along its surface, Draco was distracted with thoughts of his mother…

Narcissa gave her son a long, cool glance.

"I don't want to be presumptuous but is that a gift for a special girl?"

Draco loved his mother but found she had always had a knack for being cold – even in situations that would have moved any other mother. It wasn't that she was a bad mother; it was that she hardly – if ever – expressed her feelings. It was that way now, he noted. She was watching him with only a fraction of interest, her eyes wary.

"What if it was?" Draco asked in reply. His heart beat queerly within him and he found himself afraid that his mother would see through him and know who the gift was for.

"Shouldn't your father and I know if you've found yourself…?"

She paused.

"Remember, Draco. You are a Malfoy and you have to remember to choose someone who is worthy of your name."

Draco attempted to fix his face with a nonchalant expression. If his parents only knew…

The tiny rose shimmered in the dim lighting of the common room and with a deep breath Draco snapped the velvet box shut and tucked it back into his pocket. The room had been silent for a while; it was nearly midnight.

Chancing a glance around the room, Draco stood and stealthily moved across the room towards the exit.


Hermione stared up and down the empty corridor, tapping her foot with impatience. She was frustrated with Malfoy but more so with herself for caring whether he would show up or not. She didn't like to be made a fool of by the likes of Draco Malfoy.

He was late and as the seconds slipped by Hermione grew more and more anxious. Why was she here? What had she hoped to accomplish by sneaking out of her dormitory to meet Malfoy? And what was going on between them that had begun with a row in the library months before and was now something much more than that?

"Gods…"

She heard a sly movement behind her and whirled just in time to see Malfoy slip between the long shadows that had draped the hallway. Without thinking she pointed a finger in his direction.

"I hate to be kept waiting."

Her voice was tinged with relief and a slight irritation.

Draco chuckled and then pulled her into the shadows near the entrance to the prefect's bathroom.

"Feisty, aren't you?" he murmured. A whisper of spice clung to him and Hermione took in a pleasant, dizzying breath.

"Irritated!" she hissed. "You realize I could get in trouble sneaking out in the middle of the night? We could get expelled!"

She could see him smirking.

"Calm down, Granger. It's not like you haven't done it before. Isn't that how you, Potter and Weasley became the Golden Trio these last few years? Sneaking around and meddling around in business that wasn't yours?"

Hermione was outraged.

"If I ever did something against the rules it was simply because I had to!"

"It isn't like it's a hard or fast rule, Granger. Girls sneak out of their dorms all the time. Trust me, I know," Draco said dryly.

Hermione turned pink.

"Good girls don't!"

"But you do."

They were so close now that she could smell the mint on his breath and for a moment she was tempted to shut him up by pressing her mouth against his. Hermione resisted this urge, shoving him away instead.

"I'm going back to the dormitory. I won't be insulted like this!"

Draco shrugged amicably.

"Go on then, yeah? I dare you to walk away from me."

She snorted.

"Easily," she said over her shoulder, wondering – no – hoping he would follow her.

Draco watched her walking away, hoping that she'd cave and he wouldn't have to go after her. But as the shadows swallowed her completely he gave in and dashed after her.

"Granger!"

Hermione whirled around in triumph as Draco wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I knew you would just let me walk away," she said leaning up so that they were face to face. Draco smirked.

"Called my bluff, I suppose," he replied before leaning down to kiss her.

Hermione allowed him to pull her back into the blanket of shadows along the corridor as they kissed and she forgot that they were breaking a school rule, that she was kissing a boy in a public corridor and that this particular boy was someone that no one would approve of.

Neither knew how many seconds had passed before the pulled apart, or cared. But at some point Hermione found herself looking up at him as he rummaged in one of the pockets of his robes.

"So, I brought you something," he said, showing her a small box. He opened it quickly and nestled inside lay a tiny silver rose on a chain.

Hermione gave him a suspicious look.

"What's this?"

Draco grinned.

"I can see now why the boys are so drawn to you, Granger. It must be your womanly graces."

Hermione eyed the necklace in confusion. What did he mean by such a gift? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did it mean they were…together? Or was he playing a game?

"But…why?" she asked in a whisper, feeling breathless despite her attempt not to.

"Watch," Draco replied softly and then whispered an incantation Hermione didn't catch.

The tiny rose began to glow and shift and from within the petals a tiny dragon sprouted, its mouth open in a silent roar.

Hermione gasped.

"Where did you get it?"

"The necklace? It was a bauble I found in Diagon Alley a few years back, not that special."

Her eyes widened.

"But…but it roars!" she said, still surprised.

When she looked up at Draco she saw how proud he looked.

"Yes, that is my doing," he said quickly. "It's a combination of spells, really. Disillusionment and glamour charms so only certain people can see it change, a bit of transfiguration magic and…I suppose you can call it a modification of a Protean Charm."

Hermione was impressed.

"That's…that's brilliant!" she exclaimed.

"Please, Granger. You're not the only bright pupil in our year," he drawled.

"I never said I was!"

"Your words are dripping with reluctance to even hint that someone else can do a bit of advanced magic just as well as you can," he replied with an eye roll. Hermione turned pink but successfully avoided his baiting.

"B-but why?" she asked, leaning in to look at the tiny dragon more closely. She noticed then the tiny, glittering eyes were the color of emeralds.

"Look, Granger," Draco spoke matter-of-factly. "I know I'd like to see you more often than just passing in the Great Hall, or a boring Herbology lesson during the week. But I also know that…no one would understand. I charmed the necklace so that we can communicate. If you want to reach me all you have to do is make the dragon roar."

Hermione gazed up at him her heart fluttering wildly within her chest.

"You-you want to see me?"

"Have I not made it clear?"

He waved his wand over the tiny dragon and whispered, "Finite."

Almost instantly the dragon in the palm of Draco's hand was a rose again. He reached for her hand and passed it to her. He dug into his pockets again and opened his palm a few moments later revealing a plain pendant on a handsome chain.

"Now you try," he said and leaned in to whisper against her ear. "Evoco Draconis."

Hermione took a breath and repeated the incantation softly and just as her tiny dragon appeared and offered its silent roar… Draco's pendant shimmered and changed and a tiny dragon roared to match hers.

When Hermione's eyes shifted up to meet Draco's she found he was smiling.

"See? We can meet anytime we want…right here after curfew and no one will ever know."

Her mind spun with protests as Draco vanished both dragons with a wand wave. Her heart was full of anxiousness, fear and yet – stronger than all those – was her desire to see Draco again without worry that her friends would find out. Those things didn't matter, not now.

She watched as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her so that she was enveloped in the darkness of his school robes. She stumbled back against one of the walls in the corridor, slipping further into the shadows.

"And you'll have a piece of me with you always," he breathed against her mouth before sealing his words with a kiss Hermione found herself returning enthusiastically.