A/N: I know. I must be the most despicable human being in the world for not getting this chapter out sooner. It took a fair while for me to sort out the last few bits and pieces with this (with much assistance from Twisted Raver) and I really should have done something about it. But life gets in the way. I'm far more motivated to continue with this when I'm at school (now sixth form! Yay!). This is the perfect procrastination :D Oooh, went to Alnwick Castle (where parts of the first two HP films were shot :D) - beautiful place!

Pottermore anybody? I'm now a definite Ravenclaw (my results always point that way) - Quillmahogany67

Thank you to omegahurricane (thank you for your reassurance, and I'm sorry the plotline turned to something you don't really want to read), Albino87 (all in good time I will reveal all!), TazziJadeBlack, Oceanwind, kristenwood, loveforpotter and marrissa gnokawitz for reviewing the last chapter!

Christmas at home was peaceful, it was one occasion where I didn't worry or fret or regret anything. In fact, for that one day, it felt as though I had forgotten that anything had happened to me. Of course, that wasn't completely true, I woke up whimpering against my pillow more often than not – but Christmas was supposed to be a joyful, exciting time with family and friends. As far as things mattered for those twenty-four fleeting hours of the twenty-fifth, I did feel that way. Me, my parents and letters and parcels from friends.

Ginny had sent me a large selection of Deluxe Sugar Quills, my favourites. Luna had sent me an ominous looking package containing a purple turnip-like object, leading me to feel unsure about which creature this plant was meant to ward away. A box of Fred and George's new prototypes, picked out to be deemed appropriate for me.

I opened Harry's present last, flat yet delicate judging by its weight. I opened the paper carefully, to reveal several photographs all bound in a leather album. I looked at the photos of Harry and I over the years, treasuring each in turn. Harry obviously didn't know that while looking at them all, the knot in my stomach, which had taken permanent residence since our visit to Diagon Alley, had tightened. Some photos I was unsure of them having been taken, most likely by Colin Creevey.

I skimmed through to a photo of Harry just after the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and my beaming smile as I pulled my towel around his shoulders. I was told later that Harry had tried to rescue me too, and that was probably the only other time I had the thought that Harry could have liked me more than a friend. I should have realised it sooner. He was my best friend. The only problem was: would he always be so?

Ancient Runes was the only lesson on our first day back that gave me an opportunity to talk to Malfoy. I waited until the end of class, when all the other students had left. I pretended to be finish off translating a line of runes before walking past him on the way to the door.

"You've got some explaining to do." I muttered.

"Good afternoon, Granger." He smirked, and finished packing his bag slowly, clearly having expected me to wait to talk to him.

"Malfoy, you can't just-"

I glanced towards the door, until I knew the other students had already left. Our professor was stacking away several books in her storeroom, a safe distance for nobody to listen to us. Malfoy grabbed my sleeve, hissing under his breath and leaning closer.

"The room on the seventh floor, the one you used for your stupid DA club. Meet me there. Five thirty sharp."

I pulled away my arm, shivering at the sound of his voice... bringing back so many nightmares I had of that awful night. What did I expect? For him to feel sorry? Feel guilty? He was a Slytherin who wanted me to suffer and hated the fact I even existed. I exited the room in barely a second, knowing that by the end of the day I would have my answers.

I didn't want to, I knew it was probably better not to, but at half past five that day I was in precisely the spot I was asked to be out of my own stubborn curiosity. On the third walk past the wall, the door to the Room of Requirement materialised.

The room was in its jumbled state: old textbooks, furniture, just a bunch of clutter people had hidden away over the years and never return to collect them. It was all here just as it had been on that day I ran in here by chance. I drew my wand at the sound of a voice, light illuminating the ceiling in a second as I set the lamps ablaze.

"Sit." Malfoy called, leaning against a desk in the middle of the room. He nodded towards the chair beside him. For all I knew, he may as well be planning to tie me up in it.

"No, I'd prefer to stand." I said sharply and started pacing the room, not even sparing a second to look down at Malfoy, my fist clenched around my wand until my knuckles were white. "Why did you do this? You think I want anything to do with your sick Death Eater ways?"

"If it wasn't obvious already, I'm sure the little incident before Christmas was enough proof."

At that, I looked towards him, wanting to slap that smirk off his face in an instant, but that wouldn't get me much further to finding out anything. Instead I continued to flex my fingers.

"You won't let me say a word to anyone about whatever you're doing – which, you haven't even told me yet – and you actually want me to help you? Why on earth would you need help from me, the dirty little Mudblood Granger?"

"Help? I don't need-" He breathed a low and irritated sigh before looking away. It still set him on edge when I called myself a Mudblood. "You knew too much already, so why shouldn't I let you in on it all now?"

"You've been stringing me along all this time? How wonderfully Slytherin of you. What about the Ravenclaws? I'm surprised you haven't Imperiused half of them." I couldn't have hated anyone more. Every fibre of hatred and anger I felt towards him trembled in my voice.

"This seems far more... enjoyable. You can imagine the amusement I got out of seeing you worry over me telling Weasley everything about you and your precious Potter. But you did that all yourself didn't you? Clever you." He patronized with a harsh cold laugh.

That was it. My hand grabbed for his collar, for the green and silver knot of his tie. But of course, Draco Malfoy wasn't a Seeker for nothing. He tore my hands away, my wand being flung to the floor in the process, and squeezed my wrists tightly until he was sure I wouldn't retaliate. I struggled, my hands now balled into fists.

"Don't you realise that you're messing around with my life?" I breathed, my voice too dry for me to speak clearly. If I swallowed, I knew I would be on the brink of tears. I couldn't give him the satisfaction. "I-I-I can't even think straight! I've been lying to my family, my friends... you wouldn't even let me write-"

"Write? You're really not as bright as you look, are you? Why on earth would I let you write to Potter? To anyone in fact?" He spat, releasing my arms and letting me drop to the floor.

"You said 'discuss', that's got nothing to do with—" I kept my eyes on the floor as I knelt to pick up my discarded wand.

"As a matter of fact it does. In an exam at the very least."

"Do you really want to push me any further at the moment?" My eyes snapped back to his, and I stood my ground. "Because I swear I will use far more jinxes on you than you've probably even heard in your life."

"Empty threats, Granger, you wouldn't." He loomed over me with a smirk, the several inches he had on me were at his advantage. "Now, if you actually sit, I'll explain everything."

I flinched by reflex as he extended his hand to gesture me towards a table. Why was I being so jumpy? He wasn't going to curse me. He couldn't without someone soon enough realising that he was behind it. Would anyone be able to find out what I was being forced to do? I slid into the chair opposite him, my hand enveloping my wand as though my life depended on it. I hoped that would not be the case.

"So you've figured out I'm a Death Eater, well good for you. You need to assist me in trying to fix something," He turned his head towards a tall black cabinet, one that seemed familiar. "This is a Vanishing Cabinet. I assume—"

"Yes, I know. This is the cabinet Montague was stuck in, wasn't it?" He nodded, and I pieced it together. Montague's head couldn't have just disappeared; the cabinet had to lead somewhere. "Why do you need it fixed?"

"You know that Vanishing Cabinets can come in pairs. The other is situated elsewhere, but that's of little importance at the moment, this is what I'm focusing on."

"So what's the problem?"

"The link between the two is broken. I've fixed part of the magical boundaries, but there's still something not quite right."

"The other cabinet is in Borgin and Burke's." I revealed, and he looked at me in surprise. His icy slate-grey eyes then narrowed at the knowledge that I had followed him in Diagon Alley.

"On the ball today, aren't you? Planning to take sneaking around as a permanent career, Mudblood?"

"Are you asking for a death sentence? Either way you'd be getting one." I replied coolly.

"No I won't. Because you can't hurt me." A twisted grin appeared on his face, and he nodded to my right. "How's your hand?"

"I...Fine... what do you mean?" I asked tentatively, my right hand trembling at the thought, at the memories. How did he know I had felt pain in my hand when I tried to write to Harry? In an instant my mind worried frantically about how much he knew.

A low, shaky breath escaped my lips. I noticed Malfoy's tone grow more serious, more determined.

"It's the conditions of the Vow. If you hurt me, you wouldn't be helping me. If you caused me injury leading to my death, you wouldn't be able to follow me once I've finished fixing this. I won't allow you to tell anyone about this, either in writing or not."

"You can't just change it... I was forced to accept the Unbreakable Vow there and then."

There was an uncomfortable silence between us. I looked down at my left arm this time, my jumper sleeve masking the barbaric scars that still lay there, and then to both of my wrists, pink with the force Malfoy had put them under. I glanced up, my gaze reaching Malfoy's, who swallowed silently.

"Look, I didn't know what Bella was going to do to you."

"Bella?" I scoffed, my fingers curling around my wand again. "She's your aunt. I guess sadistic insanity runs in the family. How's your dear father, Malfoy?"

"Don't." He stood up, but I was so full of anger and fury directed towards him I couldn't have cared less whether Malfoy turned his wand on me.

"It's his own fault, you know. He shouldn't have been involved with Voldemort in the first place." I steadied my voice, keeping it from wavering and watched as Draco's wand slowly fell back to his side. "Now, you didn't completely explain my question earlier. Why do you need it fixed?"

"Because it's my duty, and that's all I'm going to tell you," He looked down at his wand, a glimmer of a smile on his lips, "for now."

He waved his hand away, dismissing me. I tightened my grip on my wand, yet knowing if I did jinx him in any way it would do just as much harm to me as it would to him.

I stood up, shaking my head in frustration. I wasn't sure whether to be somewhat content that I knew what Malfoy was up to, or to be worried that I had felt the need to find out. Maybe it would have been for the best if I hadn't asked at all.

"You can't change any of this, can you?" I hesitated by the door, waiting for an answer. It was a shot in the dark, a hope that he felt some remorse for what he and Bellatrix Lestrange had done.

"Why on earth would I want to, even if I could?"

A shiver ran down my spine at those words. He wanted to give me hell. He wanted me to somehow become a part of Voldemort's grand scheme; a scheme, I deduced, that was meant to end in Harry's death. There was a faint click of the door behind me, hidden beneath my dry sobs.

I ran, obviously a school rule I never broke unless necessary, as a Prefect. It didn't matter. Everything, everything that had happened this year seemed trivial, almost silly compared to the truth of all that had just happened. Draco Malfoy wanted Harry dead. Dozens of Death Eaters wanted him dead too, of course, but he – Malfoy – what did he gain from doing this? He couldn't be that heartless. Sure, he was a Slytherin, probably the worst of the lot, but to kill another person? Why did he want to get involved? I wandered along with my thoughts down the hallways.

The corridors were empty as most students would have headed towards the Great Hall for dinner by now. Maybe it was worth just eating something, anything that might settle my nerves.

I jumped suddenly at the feel of someone's lips upon my cheek, to find Harry looking more than surprised that I had reacted that way.

"Coming for dinner? I was just heading back to the common room to see you... are you okay?" His unmistakable emerald eyes glimmered in curiosity, before he gave a worried frown.

"I just... feel a little unwell. Nothing a spot of food won't solve. How was the rest of your Christmas?"

"It was pretty good considering..." He shook away a thought and I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Hermione, we should get around to talking to Ron properly. He wouldn't listen to a word I've said to him, but I'm sure he'll listen to the both of us. And I can't blame him. As a friend he did have a right to know what was going on between us."

"You're right."

"Excuse me... what was that?"

"Give yourself an Outstanding grade, Mr Potter. This must go down in history." I exaggerated, receiving a squeeze of my shoulder. Harry's thumb brushed against my arm in its usual habit. Something else was clearly on his mind, but I didn't want to pry if it didn't concern me. My curiosity was evidently my downfall.

"Thank you." He gave me a slight smug look, the flicker of sarcasm in his eyes.

"Harry, I know it's for the best and I can't stand his attitude about all of this, even if he does have his reasons. After dinner then? We'll try and talk to him?"

He nodded silently and reached for my hand. A cold sickening feeling dropped into my stomach moments after I realised what he'd done. I had done exactly the same thing when he first kissed me. To show I didn't want to leave, that it wasn't a mistake. That wasn't the thing that frightened me... it was the fact if I didn't do anything, I'd lose him for good. This was perfect, just us. Couldn't we have this for ourselves this once?

The redhead in question sat beside the fireplace in the common room, after a frustrating game of cat and mouse when we couldn't find him moments after finishing dinner. Whether his disappearing act was towards us or his possessive Miss Lavender Brown was a different matter.

"What do you two want?" Ron narrowed his eyes at us as if we were doing something downright immoral, hunched in an armchair.

"We just want to talk. You can shout at us later, but you have to hear us out." Harry sat on the couch opposite him, as did I.

"Fine, I'm listening."

Ron seemed almost as arrogant and harsh as any Slytherin, his eyes not reaching mine. I expected as much.

"We never meant for you to find out about us the way you did." I started slowly. "Harry and I were thinking of telling you over the few weeks before that. When I saw you around Lavender, I knew it was the worst time to mention anything."

"Ron, we've tried to find the right time to tell you. It wasn't just a stupid passing fancy of some girl..." Harry continued, and smiled apologetically to me for that last comment. "We were thinking seriously about it. Hermione was worried about your reaction the minute we... well, when we-"

"Kissed her? And this was what, months ago?" He added bluntly, "You were all over her after the match."

"That wasn't-" Harry paused, and looked down at his hands for a moment before continuing. "You're our best friend, and we knew you should have been the first to find out about us."

"Except Ginny seemed happy to say that she had found out first."

"That was my fault." I owned up, still not happy with Ron's tone, but I didn't make any mention towards it.

"I know."

"I didn't know what to do and Ginny is your sister so it was only logical for me to ask her opinion—" I explained, before he cut me off.

"Some logic." He scoffed and leaned further back into his armchair. I couldn't stand his behaviour any longer.

"You and I had been fighting and falling out over things like Quidditch and school, so I never had a proper chance to talk to you without you almost biting my head off!" I whispered, but my agitation threatened to turn it into a shout. A few third-years nearby looked over at us.

"Well I can see that I was justified then!" He yelled back.

"Stop it. Just stop it, both of you." Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Ron. I don't care what you did at Christmas—"

"What did he do?" I asked, praying that they hadn't been beating one another's brains out.

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that, Ron, you're my best mate and, like Hermione, I wasn't quite sure what to do so we just lay low for a while. What matters is that we have to move on from this."

"He's got his own apologies to make."

"Right. I'm sorry."

"I am too Ron, I didn't mean to make such a mess of this."

"Don't you get it though? It's not just the fact that it was behind my back. Hermione... I can't just think of you as someone else's – and that someone else being Lord Sir King Chosen One here."

"Wow, I wonder if that title will ever catch on." Harry mused with a grin, and Ron mirrored him, the first smile I'd seen them share in ages.

"I've spent a lot of time thinking too." I glanced back towards Harry, gesturing that I wanted to speak to Ron alone. A frown graced his eyes for a moment before he nodded, his hand slipping from my waist as he left the couch.

"If I ever said I... that I liked you, would you still have been with him?" Ron muttered.

"Ron, I love him. I've only realised recently just how much," I couldn't hide the coy smile from my lips until the knot in my stomach almost threatened to snap in half at the thought that my love for Harry was just going to make things all the more worse. "But it's hard to explain. I've had a lot to think about lately."

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Nothing concerning Harry at least." I blinked rapidly and returned to the subject in hand. "That's beside the point. Ron, just because I don't feel for you that way it doesn't mean there isn't anyone else for you."

Ron perked up, so I went on. "You're Ronald Weasley. Gryffindor Keeper and one of the bravest, funniest, maddest people I have ever met. No-one could ever say otherwise. Even though we can be at each other's throats, I could never hate you."

Ron pulled me into a crushing hug - quite surprising considering he was never one to really show affection – and whispering a sheepish 'sorry' into my ear. I returned the hug, glad that we were at least somewhat closer to our friendship.

"You wouldn't know how to get rid of a certain Lavender Brown for me, would you?" He whispered, and I tried my hardest not to laugh.

I wanted to help him. God, I couldn't stand that simpering Lav-Lav much either. Still, I had more pressing matters to worry about: the possible conspiracy to kill Harry James Potter. But did I really have any physical proof that Malfoy was a Death Eater?

The plot thickens... *cue dramatic music* Hope you enjoyed, and I WILL try to update quicker... famous last words.