Chapter 16: The Promise

Draco planned to find Hermione first thing the following morning and force her to talk to him, but as it happened, he didn't have to. He'd no sooner left the dungeons than she came up behind him unseen and seized him by the elbow. Wordlessly she marched him through the oak front doors and halfway across the grounds before shoving him behind a tree, eyes blazing.

"How does Dumbledore know about Norbert?" she demanded at once. Draco felt as if he'd been hit with a blunt object. That had been quick.

"Keep your voice down," he hissed. Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I will not keep my voice down!" she snapped. "I've just seen Hagrid in the Great Hall, and he's over the moon because Dumbledore arranged for him to visit Norbert in Romania over the summer! How does Dumbledore know, Draco?!"

Draco sighed and glanced around to ensure nobody was within earshot. When he was satisfied he told her, in a low voice, about his encounter with Snape the morning after their visit to the Astronomy Tower. As he talked, the anger on her face melted away, replaced by surprise, then horror. When he got to the bit about the Veritaserum, she gasped aloud. By the time he got to the end, her eyes were wide and her jaw was set with determination.

"Well, that settles it," she said firmly. Draco started.

"Settles what?" She opened her mouth, but he already understood. "Hermione, no! This doesn't prove anything about Snape other than that his social skills could use some work, and we knew that already, didn't we?"

"I can't believe you would say that!" exclaimed Hermione. "Draco, he threatened you-actually threatened you-because he thought you'd been helping Harry find out who's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone-" she stopped cold, but it was too late.

"The what?" Draco asked, as dread crept through him for the five hundredth time that week.

"Nothing," said Hermione at once. "Forget it."

"I will," said Draco hotly. "And you've got to, as well! I know that's why you've become friends with them since the holidays, you're all sneaking around together and thinking you're going to be heroes or something, but we've seen how this ends, Hermione! I mean, have you already forgotten what we went through last night?"

"Of course not, but-"

"And speaking of last night, you've got to listen to me now." She sighed.

"Oh, Draco, I heard you, but you're not honestly suggesting that Professor Quirrell-"

"Stop it!" he exclaimed, beside himself. "You didn't hear me, because you walked away before I could finish telling you!" Hermione gave a deep sigh that indicated, quite clearly, that she wanted him to know how very much he was trying her patience.

"Fine," she snapped. "Tell me whatever you like."

"Last term, Blaise and I tried to steal Quirrell's turban," he said quietly, looking around once again in case anyone had crept up on them. "It didn't work and Snape caught us, but before he did, I caught a glimpse under the turban. It was only for a second, but I saw that face. I was pretty sure I was imagining things," he said, raising his hand to quell her as she opened her mouth to interject, "but I never forgot about it. That's why I asked if you'd ever heard of anyone having a face on the back of their head. In case I wasn't imagining things, I wanted to know what it meant. And Hermione...I swear that face we saw last night...that was the face. If what that centaur said is true...well...You-Know-Who is living under Quirrell's turban." Hermione made a sound of consternation and covered her face with her hands for a moment. As she let her hands fall, she took a deep breath.

"I believe you're not making this up," she said slowly, as though he were a five-year-old telling her there were monsters under his bed. "But have you considered that…" she trailed off, looking very anxious. Draco rolled his eyes.

"That what?" he asked snidely.

"Well...I know what happened in the forest was completely terrifying, and when we're terrified, it's very easy to see connections between things that...well, aren't...connected." Draco snorted.

"You think my imagination's running away with me?"

"Well….yes."

"And let me guess, you and Potter have got a very elaborate theory about how Snape is trying to steal that...that Stone thing, haven't you?" Hermione went scarlet.

"That's a completely different situation," she said hotly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh, it is not. And even if it were...Hermione, you heard that centaur last night. All of this is much, much bigger than you, or Potter and Weasley, or any of us. Please, please just forget about it." Hermione looked terrified, but determined.

"If the centaurs are right, then this is much more serious than we'd thought," she said slowly, her voice shaking slightly. "Whoever wants to steal the Stone…." she trailed off, then gave a violent start, as if struck by a sudden unpleasant realization. "I've got to talk to Harry," she said decisively. Draco felt like punching a tree out of frustration.

"No! If you tell him what I told you about Snape, I swear-"

"Draco, you don't know what you're talking about," snapped Hermione, turning back toward the castle. Draco watched her go, feeling terrified and powerless and grasping desperately for words that wouldn't come.

"Hermione!" he choked finally. She turned, clearly irritated.

"What?"

"Do you still want to study this afternoon?" She looked startled.

"Yes, I'll see you later," she said shortly, and sprinted the rest of the way back up to the castle. Draco sank down on the grass with a sigh of frustration. How she could still be considering interfering with any of this business after last night's encounter with the centaur was beyond him, and he was terrified something unspeakable would happen to her.

"Just once more."

"You're joking."

"Once more, please, I think I've nearly got it."

"Hermione, you missed one question, you've got it," groaned Draco, though he was already flipping back to the first pages of their History of Magic notes.

"Ooh, thank you," she said happily, and he rolled his eyes.

"Once more, mind, and then we're moving on to Transfiguration," he told her.

"Yes, all right, you've said," said Hermione impatiently.

"Right. When did Emeric the Evil live?"

"1193-1248."

"Who did he famously kill?"

"Antioch Peverell, in 1241."

"And he was killed…?"

"In a duel with Egbert the Egregious."

"Who lived when?"

"1185-1256."

"Name one thing Uric the Oddball was famous for."

"Living in a room with fifty pet Augureys."

"What did the gargoyle strike of 1911 accomplish?" Hermione paused for a moment, stricken.

"I...I don't…" she stammered. She reached for the notes, but Draco held them back.

"There's no such thing as the gargoyle strike of 1911," he told her. "I made it up." Hermione snatched the pile of notes from his hands and smacked him over the head with it.

"Don't do that!" she snapped, though a smile was fighting its way onto her face as he yelped and snatched the notes back, laughing. They'd been studying together all week, and Hermione was more grateful than ever to have Draco as a friend. She liked Harry and Ron very much, but they spent most of their time complaining loudly about the need for studying and taking frequent breaks to play Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap in the common room. Draco, on the other hand, treated their impending final exams with the proper respect and was happy to stay in the library with her as late as she liked. Neither had mentioned Harry, the Stone, Snape, Quirrell, or the centaur's warning since the morning after their detention in the Forbidden Forest. It was obvious Draco was avoiding the topic on purpose, which was fine with her. She could tell the idea of her probing any further into the matter bothered him, but she couldn't help feeling he was letting his fear of the cloaked figure in the forest keep him from thinking clearly. His fantasy about Quirrell was evidence enough for that, and she just wasn't sure she believed the cloaked figure was really Voldemort just because the centaur had told them Mars was unusually bright. But at least Draco was keeping quiet about the matter. Harry, on the other hand, not only took the centaur at his word but had become obsessed again, convinced that Snape would take advantage of the school's distraction during final exams to sneak past Fluffy, steal the Stone, and return Voldemort to his former glory. It amused her to think what Draco and Harry would say if they knew they'd had such similar reactions to the incident in the forest, even more so to imagine how very similarly they reacted to being told to slow down and think rationally. A not-so-small part of her had hoped they might put aside their animosity after sharing the harrowing evenings on the Astronomy Tower and in the forest, possibly even become friends, but their dislike for one another seemed to remain as fervent as ever. Hermione chose not to press the matter; with final exams upon them, she had far more important things to worry about.

At any other point in the year, Draco wouldn't have imagined he'd look forward to their final exams, but now they provided a welcome distraction from the chilling events in the Forbidden Forest. The more he studied, the less frequently the images of the swaying trees, the creeping shadows, and the horrible cloaked figure visited him. Besides, he had an idea that Hermione was more interested in achieving perfect scores on all her exams than in Snape or the Sorcerer's Stone, whatever that was. He was immensely relieved, first because it meant they didn't have to talk about any of it anymore, and second because, when he imagined what might happen to her if she kept sneaking and spying, panic would grip him with such force that he couldn't move or breathe. He had no explanation for this. He only knew he didn't like it, and he was very glad she seemed to have come to her senses.

The only trouble, really, was nighttime. No matter how exhausted he was, he couldn't banish that horrible cloaked figure from his mind when he closed his eyes, making sleep virtually impossible. He coped with this by spending the time practicing for their practical exams in the common room. It passed the time marvelously, and often exhausted him enough to steal a few hours' sleep before the dawn came.

The exams themselves turned out to be much easier than he'd envisioned, even fighting through a fog of drowsiness made much worse by the sweltering-hot room in which they did their written papers. Their practical exams were much more enjoyable; Draco preferred turning beetles into buttons and mice into snuffboxes in Transfiguration to writing about the characteristics of Switching Spells, and it was far more fun actually brewing a Forgetfulness Potion (despite Snape's unfortunate choice to breathe down their necks while they did it) than trying to remember the properties of poisons and their antidotes. Worst of all was History of Magic, not least because it was their very last exam before they were free-for one glorious week, that was, until their exam results came back. Studying the years of goblin rebellions and names of mad old wizards who had invented self-stirring cauldrons and hair-raising potions had always been excruciatingly boring, but trying to do it with the prospect of a whole week to enjoy the radiant sunshine outside was nearly impossible. Draco gave up fairly early in the evening before their exam and attempted to sleep, but infuriatingly, he found himself tortured by that white, grotesque face, those evil, red eyes, and the centaur's voice, over and over: Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power? Who has clung to life, awaiting their chance? Finally, far too anxious to lie still any longer, he dug under his bed and pulled out Hermione's copy of Matilda. For good measure, he also snatched a pile of notes from his bag and slipped out into the common room. Ordinarily reading about the little girl's adventures made him feel much better, but something was different tonight. He had a terrible feeling about the end of exams tomorrow, and although he wracked his brains until they were numb, he couldn't say why. He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard footsteps behind him. His heart jumped into his throat and he hastily shoved his book underneath his pile of notes.

"You do realize we've already done our Transfiguration exam?"

"Don't sneak up on me like that," snapped Draco.

"I'm sorry," said Theo, throwing himself into an armchair and not sounding sorry at all. "I didn't know walking into a room and speaking at a normal volume was considered sneaking."

"Sorry," muttered Draco, setting aside his Transfiguration notes with a sigh. Theo frowned slightly.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," said Draco at once. "Why?" He heard how defensive he sounded, and internally cringed.

"Because I've never seen you apologize before." Theo gave him a slight smirk, which he returned.

"Well, don't tell anyone."

"No one would believe me, anyway."

They laughed, and to Draco's great relief, Theo didn't press his question. They talked and laughed about nothing in particular as the night melted into morning, and the horrible cloaked figure in the forest was driven completely out of Draco's mind. His dread, however, returned in full force as their Housemates started to trickle into the common room for a bit of last-minute studying. As they started up the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast, Draco realized why: it was Hermione. With the end of exams this afternoon, there was nothing any longer to distract her from the mystery of the Stone. He had a terrible feeling the same thought had already occurred to her.

The History of Magic exam was far easier than Hermione had expected; Draco had told her she'd over-prepared, and she had to admit he'd been right. The hour slipped by much faster than their other exams, and when Professor Binns told them to put down their quills, a great cheer ran through the classroom. They were free.

The feeling of triumph in the air was contagious, and Hermione joined Harry, Ron, and the rest of the crowd of first-years flocking out onto the grounds. She'd scarcely set foot on the first floor, however, when Draco came up behind her unseen and snatched her by the elbow.

"Hey!" she yelped, but he simply shoved her into a deserted corridor. In stark contrast with their classmates' radiant grins, Draco's face was much paler than normal and he looked terrified.

"What on earth's the matter with you?" she demanded.

"Whatever you're planning to do this afternoon, don't," he said seriously. She frowned, utterly confused.

"I'm planning to go and relax in the sunshine," she told him. "And I really think you should do the same, you look as if you haven't slept in a week." Draco scrutinized her for what seemed a very long time.

"I know you haven't forgotten the Stone business," he said slowly. "And now that exams are over…" he trailed off and shook his head slightly. "Just promise me you won't do anything stupid. Please." Hermione nearly laughed, but caught herself just in time. He looked nearly as anxious as Harry, who had spent much of the previous night pacing around the common room massaging his scar and angrily rejecting her suggestions that he go and see Madam Pomfrey about the pain in his head.

"Oh, Draco, you haven't been worrying about that all week, have you?"

"Just promise me!" Draco insisted. "No matter what you might see or hear, you've got to stay out of it."

"And you've got to relax," said Hermione at once. "What makes you think I'm going to see or hear something?" There was a pause.

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "I've just got a bad feeling about tonight, so would you please just promise-"

"All right, I promise I won't do anything stupid," she said calmly. He studied her for a moment, and, to her relief, visibly relaxed.

"Thank you," he said shortly, and, before she could say anything else, turned and fled the corridor. She stood for a few moments, baffled, before remembering she'd been on her way outside with Harry and Ron before Draco had caught her. Shaking her head slightly to clear it, she left the corridor and retraced her steps toward the Entrance Hall, but she'd scarcely gone ten feet when she nearly collided with Harry and Ron, who were pelting up the staircase looking frantic.

"There you are!" panted Ron. "We looked-everywhere!"

"What's the matter?" she asked. And, she added to herself, what had happened in the past twenty minutes to make every friend she had lose their minds?

"It's tonight," said Harry flatly. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight."

"What?" cried Hermione, startled. "I-I thought you'd gone out to relax, how did-"

"We had," Ron interrupted, glancing around to ensure the corridor was deserted. "We were out by the lake, right, and then Harry ran off shouting about going to see Hagrid-"

"It was Snape," Harry interjected, looking very impatient. "The man in the pub who gave Hagrid the dragon egg. He said he kept his hood on the whole time, remember? Well, Hagrid said today that he told whoever it was how to get past Fluffy." Hermione frowned deeply, taking a moment to make sense of what Harry was saying.

"But why would he do that?" she asked finally. "I mean, surely he'd never betray Dumbledore!"

"Because the man in the pub wanted to make sure he could handle a dragon," said Ron grimly.

"Well, we've got to go to Dumbledore," said Hermione at once, but Harry and Ron were looking more grim than ever.

"We tried that already," said Ron. "Dumbledore's gone to London. He won't be back until tomorrow." There was a moment of very heavy silence.

"Hagrid didn't...happen to tell the two of you how to get past Fluffy, did he?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he said grimly. "He did."

There was another, longer silence as the shared understanding settled between them. With Dumbledore gone, there was no longer any choice. If Snape was going down the trapdoor tonight, then so were they.