Author's note

okay so like many others I am working from home and staying largely in doors- so I am on a mission to entertain as many people as I can. This is one of three stories I am writing currently on this site so I am to update them on a rota basis. Please review by way of offering some social contact:)

Chapter 2-stinging eyes

The grounds were smothered by silence, winter's stranglehold held firm and though the blanket of snow sparkled crystalline in the moon light Draco took no joy in the scene. Once he had loved the snow. He had loved the stillness it brought as it muffled the landscape but now it only recalled the ice inside his soul.

He could have apparated straight back into Malfoy Manor but he needed a moments ease. His encounter with the Mirror of Erised had unnerved him and he was pissed off with Granger. He had been certain she would have put him out of his misery but for some perverse reason she had stunned him instead. Momentarily overcome with agony he fell to his knees. When would it ever end? He had thought of endless ways to try to end it. He had thought of going rogue, taking on the evil fucker himself but he would not be the first assassin to try this and he knew that somehow the evil bastard wouldn't die, that some unholy power protected him. Maybe he should do it anyway and let the bastard kill him? but then, Draco recalled, the bastard did like to play with his food and the thought that he might let the snake have him…well it was not a fate he wold wish even on his enemies. And then of course there would be no one left to protect his mother. She only survived now, he suspected, because she was a means of controlling him and if Dacro were gone… Voldemort had no interest in her, she would be handed over as the spoils of war. It was this more than anything else that held Draco back, the ignominy of his noble pureblood mother being raped by sadistic arseholes like the Lestrange brothers or Macnair. He realised now, with hindsight, that he had been a fool and that Granger had done him a favour. He could only protect his mother if he lived. He was at least glad that Greyback had been 'accidentally' killed in the crossfire some years back. He would take them all out if he dare but it would become all too obvious.

"Shit!" he almost howled as he beat the snow before him with pent up frustration. It had almost been a decade since he had taken the mark and still he was trapped.

Hermione sat silently breathing in the steam of her herbal tea. She couldn't sleep after her encounter with Malfoy. She knew he deserved to die so why had she not been able to end him? She was sure he was responsible for hundreds of muggle-born deaths. Oh he might not have soiled his lily white hands but he was Voldemort's master architect. It was Malfoy's hand behind the Death Eater's strategies. He had blood on his hands as surely as if he had avada'd them himself. So why couldn't she do it? She had killed in cold blood before, Alecto Carrow had been begging and disarmed but still she had offered her no mercy. So why was Malfoy different? Was it just that she wanted to be perverse? Was it just because he had pleaded with her? Or had it something to do with what she had seen-he seemed regretful. What had that mirror shown him? Was it just that he regretted what he had lost? But why would that stop her? She was sure she did not feel sympathy for him and she knew she owed him nothing so why?

"Uhh!" She let out in frustration knowing that in some way she had let her dead friends down. "I'm sorry," she told them regretfully, "I should have killed him whilst I had the chance." All she had done she knew was prolong the world's agony and she was ashamed of herself.

Draco didn't know how long he sat there may be he would freeze to death? His limbs were already stiff with cold but somehow he found the motivation to go in doors. The cold was stinging his eyes now he rubbed them to try and keep the tears that the wind drew from falling.

"Ouch! Shit!" something sharp stung his eye. Draco rubbed it again but it only stung more and then he saw her; a phantom on the landscape her hair blowing in long waves just as it had been in the mirror hours before.

"Don't lose hope Draco," her voice whispered on the wind. Was she a truly phantom? Was she dead? His cold numbed mind wondered. For if she were her words would go unheeded-she had been the only hope he had left.

"Get up Draco," she bereted him, "go inside, you help no one if you freeze to death."

Like an automaton he obeyed her, his limbs leaden, his fingers near blue from exposure he stumbled his way to his own doorstep and fell through the doors.

"Draco," his mother rushed to his aide, as he slid to the marble floor, "what have you done to yourself?"

Hermione rose the next morning, she felt skittish, she showered, dressed but still her encounter with Malfoy had left her unsettled.

Perhaps some fresh air, if she was careful, she cautioned, she could take a walk by the river. She took up her warm coat from the night before. Inspecting the coat she realised it was cover with dust and debris she would need to clean it if she did not what to draw attention to herself. She began to brushing off the worst from the sleeve with her hand;

"Ouch," some of the debris had found its way into her eye. She rubbed furiously at her eyes. All though she knew that she was doubtless making matters worse. eyes streaming his made her way to the bathroom sink with the aim of rinsing her eye. Inspecting her eye as best she could she worried that a shard of glass had embedded itself. She drew her wand to try to remove the offending splinter it seemed to settle at the touch of her magic so, thinking no more of it. She dried her face and continued with her planned walk.

Author's note

there is some mysterious and unknown magic going on here:)

Please review