A/N: This is my entry into the QLFC Season 6, Finals Round. Beater 1 for Pride of Portree. The theme this week was this or that. We had to work with our opposing team to decide on a scenario or pairing. Beater 1 for the Magpies and I chose a scenario which was: Character B finds out a secret about Character A. My optional prompts were: (word) crime and (emotion) frightened.

This is a canon-divergent AU. Also, I played with how Unbreakable Vows work to fit the storyline.

W/C: 2,962

Beta love to my fellow Pride teammates: Story Please and Litfreak89. Additional beta love to brownlark42.

Summary: Hermione Granger keeps running into Draco Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Girls Only

January 1997

Hermione huffed her way past a group of giggling third years. Everything was getting on her nerves today. It seemed like everywhere she bloody looked, Ron and Lavender were there, snogging. Frankly, it was disgusting. And now, she was pretty sure she'd just started her period. She was too far from Gryffindor Tower, so the girl's loo on the second floor would have to do.

Water was running as she entered, which wasn't completely unusual. Hermione had never minded Moaning Myrtle, who was friendly enough if you were nice to her. It was the crying that gave her pause. The last thing Hermione wanted to deal with was some hysterical firstie. She thought about leaving, but she risked leaking through her robes. Decided, Hermione turned the corner only to stop in her tracks.

It wasn't a crying firstie. Draco Malfoy, of all people, was leaning over the overflowing sink. He was practically keening. He had taken off his outer robes and tie and was only in his shirt sleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows. Hermione was frozen with indecision, but then she noticed the black mark on his left arm. Revulsion and fear crept over her as it moved insidiously.

Draco Malfoy had the Dark Mark.

Harry was right: Malfoy was a Death Eater. Yet, as Hermione tried to come to grips with this revelation, she realized that Harry hadn't been right about everything. Malfoy was marked as a Death Eater, but he didn't seem happy about it. But what could she do?

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy spat at her. His face was filled with equal parts fear and anger, and he gripped the sink tightly as he looked over his shoulder at her. His burning gaze demanded an answer.

"I-It is a girls' bathroom," Hermione said.

Malfoy snorted. Hermione told herself that she should leave and tell Dumbledore immediately, but when she finally convinced her feet to move, Malfoy was blocking her path.

"And where do you think you're going?" he hissed. His breath was hot as it washed over her face. Hermione took a step back as her fear ratcheted up a degree. She began fumbling for her wand, but the moment it was in her hand, Malfoy yanked it from her fingers. Her bag slid off her shoulder and landed on the floor with a dull thud, but Hermione didn't bother trying to pick it up. She couldn't take her eyes off Malfoy.

"I asked you a question," Malfoy said.

"I don't want any trouble," Hermione said as slowly and as calmly as she could, but her trembling hands betrayed her.

"It's too bloody late for that, isn't it? You've seen it, haven't you?" He held up his arm, giving her an uncomfortably close eyeful of his Mark. The snake moved along his skin and flicked its tongue at her. "Ugly, isn't it?"

Hermione blinked, confused by the new tone in his voice. He sounded less upset and more resigned.

"Seems like you don't like it all that much," Hermione ventured. She was startled when he laughed. It was a bitter sound.

"This? My lovely pride and joy? Why would you think that?" Malfoy replied, the sarcasm thick in his voice.

"Then why did you get it?" The moment the question was out of her mouth Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. "I didn't—"

"It's not like I had a choice, Granger. You wouldn't understand that, though." Malfoy was glaring down at her, and Hermione realized she had never been this close to him in all the years they'd been at school.

His eyes were kind of pretty, she thought, even as they were blazing at her.

"I might," Hermione suggested. She didn't know why the conversation was going this way, but honestly, it seemed like Malfoy might need someone to talk to.

Malfoy snorted. "Gryffindor Princesses know nothing about what goes on in the snake pit."

Hermione tilted her chin up in defiance. "Fine. Give me my wand back, then."

"Are you an idiot? I can't have you telling anyone. Now...what should I use?" Malfoy said. "Obliviation? Unbreakable Vow? Imperius?"

"You wouldn't dare," Hermione said. "Imperius is an Unforgivable, Malfoy. A crime. You'd be sent to Azkaban!"

"Oh, good, I could join my father. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Malfoy sneered. Hermione wondered if that was perhaps why he had received a Dark Mark.

"Listen, Malfoy, I can help you. I could—"

"I don't want your help, Granger. I want your silence."

"I won't tell anyone about this. I swear," Hermione said.

"Am I supposed to believe that innocent, holier-than-thou act?" Malfoy snorted again. "No, I require magic to ensure you don't talk."

"I'll agree to an Unbreakable Vow," Hermione said, "but not Obliviation or the Imperius."

"Worried about your little mind?" Malfoy chuckled. "Imperius could be fun though."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy!" Hermione said, disgusted.

"Fine, Unbreakable Vow it is."

"We need a bonder," Hermione reminded him.

"No, we don't. You are vowing to me. I'm not vowing anything in return. I'll be the bonder."

Hermione stared up at him, trying to remember if Malfoy was telling the truth. She had no hope of getting her wand back or fleeing the bathroom. Would an Unbreakable Vow be so bad? It wasn't a crime to agree to one.

"How does it work?" Hermione asked. "What happens if I'm incapacitated or—"

"It won't let you talk about it. You'll get a flare of pain in your wrist if you try. If you ignore the pain and continue, you'll die," Malfoy said. "Afraid you can't keep a secret from Potty and Weasel?"

"No! I can keep secrets, Malfoy," Hermione spat. "I need to make an informed choice. Something you might consider in the future."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at you. "You know nothing about the choices I've had to make, Granger."

"Fine, but I want to hear your conditions first," Hermione said.

"It's just the one; you don't talk to anyone about the Mark or me being a Death Eater."

"Let's get it over with," Hermione said. She stuck out her right hand, and Malfoy grasped it with his own. She shivered as a spark passed between them. Malfoy gripped his wand in his left hand and tapped their clasped hands with it.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, promise to never speak of the Dark Mark on Draco Lucius Malfoy's arm to anyone other than Draco Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes," Hermione said. A thin rope of fire slid out of the end of Malfoy's wand and wrapped itself around their hands, before sinking into their skin with a slight pinch.

"And do you, Hermione Granger, promise to never speak of Draco Lucius Malfoy being a Death Eater to anyone other than Draco Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. Another rope of fire wrapped around them tightly before disappearing into their skin with a pinch.

"Done. You can stop holding my hand now." Malfoy smirked at her.

Hermione glared and yanked her hand away, then held it out. "My wand, Malfoy."

Malfoy pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her. She shot one final glare at him before reaching down to grab her bag, then shouldered her way past him and out of the bathroom.

She chewed her bottom lip as she hurried up the stairs to the fourth floor, suddenly remembering why she'd gone to the loo in the first place. She still had to deal with her period issue before Transfiguration started. And now, she had a whole new thing to worry about.

Malfoy hadn't said she couldn't write it down, had he? What if she wrote it and let someone find it? She'd have to think through the consequences. There was no way she was going to stay silent. It was too big, and it was quite obvious to her that Malfoy needed help, even if he acted like he didn't want it. The issue was that she wasn't sure who she could tell. Dumbledore was obvious, but Harry would fly off the handle. McGonagall? Snape? She shook her head. Snape probably already knew since he was a Death Eater. Did that mean Dumbledore knew too?

Hermione slipped through the door to the girls' bathroom on the fourth floor. She still couldn't believe she'd taken an Unbreakable Vow with Malfoy, of all people. When had her life become so bizarre?

March 1997

The second time Hermione ran into Malfoy, she was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom crying. Stupid Ron. Stupid Lavender. Stupid boys. Stupid feelings. It was all so bloody stupid! She hated feeling so powerless. She considered herself enlightened, a feminist! And yet, here she was pining after a stupid boy.

"What are you doing here?" a deep voice asked from behind her. Startled, Hermione looked up in the mirror in front of her to find Malfoy scowling behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. She'd been leaning on the sink, crying her stupid tears, just as he had been a few months ago.

"It's a girls loo, you know," Hermione said, echoing what she had said the last time. "I have more right to be here than you do!" Suddenly, the sadness and angst dissipated, and she grew livid. Angry at Malfoy and his interfering ways. Angry that she hadn't yet found a way around the Unbreakable Vow. Angry at Ron and Lavender. Most of all, furious with herself.

"You shouldn't be here!" Hermione spat as she whirled around to face him. She had her wand gripped tightly in her hand and brushed her other hand across her face, trying to hide the tears.

"Why are you crying?" Malfoy asked, tilting his head to the side.

"None of your business," Hermione hissed, narrowing her eyes. How dare he ask such a personal, invasive question! Who did he think he was?

Malfoy advanced on her, and fear that Hermione was sure she hadn't felt two seconds ago uncurled in her belly. He was a Death Eater after all, even if he did seem a bit reluctant. She shouldn't have riled him up. She backed up, unconsciously, until her bum rested on the edge of the sink.

"He's not worth it, you know," Malfoy said quietly. He was still giving her that strange look, the one Hermione couldn't interpret.

"What do you know about it?" Hermione couldn't have helped her snide tone if she tried. There was something about Malfoy that brought out the worst in her.

Malfoy shrugged and took a step back. He gave her another, long considering look before turning around and leaving the bathroom.

What in the world had that been? If Hermione thought her life was strange before, this was on a whole new level Malfoy had, what—comforted her? She shook her head, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. She didn't need to add Malfoy and his confusing behavior to her list of things to worry about. Harry was enough. She snorted at the thought and turned the tap in the sink on. After splashing some water on her face and patting it dry, Hermione took a deep breath and left the bathroom.

April 1997

Malfoy looked worse. Worse than he had a few months ago. Hermione hated that she was noticing that about him. But he was pale, very pale, and looked thin like he had dropped at least two stone. She had started watching him in their shared classes and in the Great Hall at meals. He barely ate. Harry's obsession with Malfoy was bordering on psychotic at this point. All he did was watch the Marauder's Map, keeping his eye on Malfoy, and Hermione couldn't help but to follow along, all the while scolding Harry for his undue interest.

Like you can talk.

She frowned when she found herself outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor after Charms. She had no reason to be there; she had a free period, and would normally go to the Library to get some studying done, but for some reason, her feet carried her there. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and went inside.

She wasn't even a little surprised to see Malfoy. He was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the far wall, his knees bent with his forehead pressed to them, and his arms looped around his legs. Moaning Myrtle was hovering near him with a hand reached out as if to comfort him.

"Oh, good, maybe you can talk some sense into him," Myrtle said as she spied Hermione. She did a loop-de-loop in the air and disappeared into one of the cubicles. Malfoy hadn't bothered to look up.

"You alright?" Hermione asked. She hadn't really meant to say that, but somehow she'd known he would be here. Was this her life now? Comforting Death Eaters?

"Bloody peachy," Malfoy mumbled. His arms flexed a moment before relaxing, and Hermione wondered if that meant he had considered going for his wand and resisted the temptation. She walked forward slowly, then slid down the wall to sit beside him. For some reason, Malfoy didn't frighten her today. It was a shocking realization to come to.

"Want to talk about it?" Hermione asked softly. She desperately wanted to look at him, to gauge his reactions, but she felt that he needed someone to talk to, not someone to examine him, so she kept her gaze forward.

Malfoy snorted. "Not much to talk about. I'm a Death Eater, and I will probably fail, and my mother will be killed, and all of it will be my fault."

Hermione had known that there was something else going on besides Malfoy being a Death Eater. Everything suddenly made sense. She hadn't thought the Dark Mark alone would cause as drastic of a change in him as she'd seen this year. It was horrifying to think that his mother's life was being held in the balance of whether he succeeded or failed at whatever ridiculous task he'd been assigned. He was a child! She hated Voldemort more than ever in that moment.

She didn't know what to say. She knew he would simply rebuff any offers of help she made.

"I'm sorry," she finally offered. It felt insufficient. So she reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. She wanted him to see how sorry she really was. He shouldn't be in a position like this, and she was sorry for that. She was sorry he felt he had no other choices in his life than to follow Voldemort.

Malfoy flinched at her touch but didn't remove her hand. "Me too," he whispered after a long moment.

May 1997

Hermione was so upset with Harry that she couldn't be in the same room as him. The moment she found out what he'd done to Malfoy, she'd given him the scolding of his life and stormed out of the common room. She had wandered the halls for hours as she tried to calm herself down. It's not like she could tell Harry why she was so upset. That she had inexplicably formed some sort of friendship with Malfoy. Well, she probably could tell him that bit, but then when Harry asked her how, she would have no answer. That awful Unbreakable Vow. Still better than Obliviation or Imperius.

An hour after curfew found Hermione standing outside of the Infirmary. She had no business here. She knew she had no business here and yet…here she was. She took a quick look around to find she was alone in the hallway, then slipped inside the Infirmary doors.

At the end of the long room, was a curtained-off bed. The rest of the beds were empty. Hermione tiptoed across the Infirmary, hoping that Madam Pomfrey was ensconced in her rooms for the night. The last thing she needed was to be caught breaking curfew to visit Malfoy.

When she finally made it behind his curtain, she gasped. Malfoy looked dead. His skin was grey and ashen and he looked like he was barely breathing. Her concern for Malfoy warred with her anger at Harry for a moment before the concern won out. She approached his bed and reached out to clasp his hand. It was warm, which filled her with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed. Her heart, slowly returning to a normal cadence, flipped when Malfoy's hand clenched around her own.

She glanced up to see that his eyes were barely open and staring at her.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," Malfoy said back, his voice hoarse. It triggered a cough that Hermione was sure Madam Pomfrey would hear, it was so violent. She conjured him a glass of water and lifted his head to help him take a sip. The gesture felt incredibly intimate, and Hermione flushed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Malfoy snorted very lightly. "You keep saying that."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah," Malfoy said quietly. Hermione was still holding his hand. He tightened his fingers around hers again.

"I should get back," Hermione said after a long moment.

"Stay," Malfoy said. His eyes had slipped closed, and Hermione couldn't tell if he was still awake. "Just for a bit," he murmured.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, squeezing his hand. She stayed for a long time. His breathing evened out and she knew he was asleep, but still she stayed. It was almost dawn before she finally snuck back out of the Infirmary and returned to Gryffindor tower. She didn't know what this relationship between her and Malfoy had become, but she couldn't help but feel like something fundamental had changed. She only hoped it was for the better.