Disclaimer: I wished I lay claim to such amazing characters...unfortunately they remain under the copyright of J.K.R. and I am only responsible for the pairing of Draco and Hermione, and the indescribably painful and boiling rage of Corrinne Whitemayer, a self-created character I hope you all will like and appreciate (:

A/N: Thank you very much to those who reviewed, and those who showed their appreciation of the story through alerts, I'm very grateful for your support! I am open to all kinds of reviews, so as to improve on my writing skills and create better fics for all of you, so do drop one to let me know what you think (: For now, enjoy the second chapter!

P.S. A slight reminder that the fic is non-HBP compliant, so even as I include details of the new professors which are similar to HBP, the plot does not necessarily follow (:

Hermione sat down on her poster bed, fingering the folds of the pink sheets and a small smile crept up on the edge of her lips. It was really great to be back at Hogwarts, to study all the subjects she enjoyed, to be with the friends she loved, to carry out her prefectorial - at this point, her smile vanished and a scowl replaced it. Professor McGonagall had enclosed an extra letter for all prefects informing them of the duty list for both summer and winter shifts. The first name Hermione noticed on her list just had to be "DRACO L. MALFOY", which thoroughly irked her and she had flung the letter to the corner of the room in disgust. Eventually when she finished reading to find her patrol partner for winter was to be Hannah Abbott, she heaved a sigh of relief and tucked the letter away. Ron had then come bursting into find out who her partners were and his tone of utter horror had brought the matter to Harry, which, of course, created a mini-explosion.

She laid back on her bed, kicking off her shoes lightly as the girls around her busied themselves with unpacking their things. Obviously, she had been really efficient in unpacking with a few flicks of her wand, whilst Parvati Patil on her right was still trying desperately to arrange her clothes by colour just with her wand. But Hermione was not really paying attention to her futile attempts. In her mind, Harry's words were playing over and over again, like a broken record, make friends with him, make friends with him. Hermione let out a little sigh. She had volunteered, it wasn't like Ron didn't try to stop her. She knew that if Harry did not play his cards before Voldemort whilst he was still in school, he would no longer have the magical protection of Hogwarts to save his skin. He wouldn't have much of an advantage even if he eventually became an Auror. And if Draco Malfoy was the key to the puzzle, then she was willing to help Harry find out more.

Just as the words 'Draco Malfoy' floated into her mind, accompanied by a sneering face of the Slytherin boy, Hermione's thoughts were broken with the repetition of the same name in the high-pitched voice of Lavender. "...Draco Malfoy is really going to become a Death-Eater?"

There was a loud buzz at that, with the girls excitedly debating this point.

"He knows that his father was killed by You-Know-Who because he failed to carry out his task. Everyone knows that failure to perform for You-Know-Who is rewarded by a ..." And Corrinne Whitemayer mimicked a slash across her throat. "So it's quite likely that Malfoy will try to be as loyal to You-Know-Who to carry on his father's loyalty."

"What kind of a son is he?" asked Parvati, disgusted, as she stopped trying to whisk her clothes into the cupboard for the umpteenth time. "How can he work for ... for that ... for You-Know-Who, the one who murdered his father!"

Hermione kept quiet, as Ginny's sharp voice cut in. "You people talk like you know Malfoy. Whether or not he becomes a Death Eater is none of our business, as long as we are in Hogwarts, we are safe!"

"So you say," said Corrinne, with a sneer, as she whipped around to look at Ginny, who was glaring at her. "But wait a minute, how can we be really safe, when even Cedric Diggory was killed by You-Know-Who," and she drew closer to Ginny, "...as articulated by Harry Potter?"

Ginny turned white. "You..."

"Corrinne, that's enough!" Hermione slid down from her bed, glaring at Corrinne twice as fiercely as the blonde girl turned back to stare at the sudden interruption.

"What's with the defence of Draco Malfoy?" demanded Corrinne, her face burning with heat. "What's with all of you? You think that bloody beast will have so much courage to turn against You-Know-Who? You think that he'll avenge his father? You think he's so smart just because he tops in classes, just short of Know-It-All Miss Hermione Granger?" Hermione's face blanched at that. "I tell you that son of a bitch is just like his damned father, JUST LIKE HIM!"

It was only till the last sentence that Hermione finally realised why Corrinne was so worked up and so vile towards Draco Malfoy. In fact, he wasn't her target of fury. She had been on cloud nine that Lucius Malfoy, the man who had Cruciated her parents to insanity, had been finally murdered. And then she had come back to Hogwarts to find everyone almost in sympathy with Draco Malfoy, that he was to succeed his father as a Death-Eater and to work for his father's murderer. Naturally, she was outraged that nobody seemed to find Lucius Malfoy's death a victory, something worth celebrating for.

"Corrinne, I..."

Corrinne didn't even wait for Hermione to finish her sentence; the dormitory shook as the blonde girl ran out and slammed the door behind her. There was an awkward silence that hung over the dormitory. Then Hermione finally said, "It's time for supper," which got everyone going and hustling towards the door, leaving their beds in a mess.

Everyone, but Ginny.

Hermione sat down beside Ginny, who was still shaking. "Ginny, are you..."

"I'm okay," the redhead whispered. Her eyes were almost glazed.

"Ginny, if..."

"What if Corrinne was right?"

Hermione stared at Ginny in surprise. "What?"

"What if she was right about how Hogwarts isn't safe anymore?" whispered Ginny, looking fiercely at Hermione, gripping hold of her hands, startling the older girl. "What if You-Know-Who can come in here to kill Harry? What if Malfoy is the one to let him in? If he could kill Cedric, he can..."

"Ginny, you're not to imagine things!" Hermione gripped her hands back, looking very firmly back into Ginny's terrified eyes.

"Tom Riddle nearly killed Harry by using me with the diary." Ginny's eyes fell down to her hands, big tears spilling out of them. "He can do anything, Hermione, anything. And if Malfoy's going to become a Death Eater, regardless of whether he's doing it for his father or he's forced to do it, there's going to be a lot of trouble. And for Harry..."

Hermione understood that Ginny still cared a lot for Harry. Despite her attempts to date many other boys to forget Harry, he was still the one boy who stuck steadfastly in her mind. She also understood that Ginny was still nursing a big ball of guilt in her, especially when Harry had nearly been killed because of her foolishness to trust a diary back in her first year. Not knowing what else to say, she pulled Ginny into an embrace, hoping that her hug would convey to Ginny what she wished to comfort her with.

Yet in her mind, Ginny's words, Corrinne's words, Harry's words – they were all swimming relentlessly; Hermione felt a bubbling of despair rise up in her, and it was really uncomfortable, and unsettling...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The crowd was filing out after supper, chatting excitedly about the beginnings of the new year. Professor Dumbledore had just announced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts to be Severus Snape! Finally, the icy Potions professor had gotten his coveted position, but would he face the jinx of the Dark Arts job? And the new Potions professor had been a rather walrus-looking creature named Professor Horace Slughorn. His cheeks were so huge and slouchy that they hung down and jiggled every time he gave a hearty laughter at the supper table. Everyone was wondering what kind of a professor would he be like? How would Potions be like without the intimidating frame of Severus Snape?

Draco Malfoy had been silent throughout the entire supper, his eyes gazing at nowhere in particular, although an observer might assume he was staring at the chicken in front of him. In fact, the entire Slytherin table was void of the usual cheer that came about at the start of the year, with many fearful eyes shooting glances at the blond boy. Suddenly he looked older than just any normal sixth-year student. His eyes were expressionless, but his eyebrows were set in a firm line, almost heavy – it was hard to tell whether he was raging inside, weary, or both. Pansy shot a look at him, then shifted her gaze back to her plate. Nobody dared to say anything within earshot, but exchanged questioning glances. Lucius Malfoy's death was still a mystery. Although it had been announced by the Ministry of Magic that he had tragically committed suicide, Narcissa Malfoy had burst out very vehemently that her husband had been murdered by Voldemort. She only restrained herself in time when Severus Snape had cast a Silencio charm on her, and insisted that no more reporters or any other "shifty little creatures" should interfere with the Malfoy affairs.

As he made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons with the other Slytherin students, Draco's mind kept wandering back and forth, left and right, in fact, he didn't exactly know what he was thinking about. His feet were just dragging themselves along, and the buzz around him made by students was only making his headache worsen exponentially. Then, with a swift motion, he fell out of step with the rest and turned right towards the tower annexe. He didn't know why he wanted to go there, he just felt like he should. Like everybody else, he had many questions, but he didn't know what to ask, and he didn't know who to ask.

The emotions in him were threatening to spill out, but Draco couldn't figure out what they were either. Frustrated at the complexity of thoughts in his mind, and the amalgamation of all kinds of emotions within him, he increased his pace, almost running towards the wall where the nearly-invisible tower door was. Few Hogwarts students knew where the entrance to the tower was, partly because it worked like the Room for Requirement – it only opened for those who really needed it, except that it actually had a visible outline of a door. The magic seemed to sense that Draco Malfoy was in desperate need of a quiet place, and slowly opened the door to let him go up the steps.

When he was facing the night sky, he felt a thrilling chill sweep through him, causing him to wrap his robes around him closer. He could see the Whomping Willow in the distance, weighed down heavily by the fall of thick snow, which was piling up on the tower ground as well, and on his robes and hair. The way the snow fell, seemed to remind him of the day he first saw snow fall in summer...

"Mother! This is absolutely crazy, it's snowing in summer!"

Draco burst into the living room of the Malfoy Manor, almost excitedly, but there was no one. Strange, he thought, she was here just a few minutes ago. There was a rather loud noise from above, which startled Draco, and he leapt to his feet to run upstairs. Along the way, he could gradually hear his mother's voice, which was almost hysterical, shouting, "No! No! NO!". The incessant sobs that came after almost shattered Draco's heart – his mother was the world to him, why was she so upset! Who made her...

He was face-to-face with a bizarre scenario: his mother was burying herself at Severus Snape's feet, shuddering with every sob, while the greasy-haired Potions professor stared stoically down at her. A ball of fury unleashed in Draco, as he flew forward to push his startled professor aside, yelling, "Don't you dare touch my mother! What did you do to her!"

"Draco!" Severus Snape finally got hold of his senses as the enraged boy was pushing him nearer the window. He managed to pull out his wand and with a flick, Draco was flung against the wall opposite, his countenance barely concealing his rage. "Get a grip on yourself!"

"WHY IS MY MOTHER CRYING?" demanded Draco, his eyes wild with rage and pain, as he flew to his mother's heaving side. "What the bloody hell did you..."

"Draco, your father is dead."

The air suddenly constricted, his throat!

Draco gasped.

"Draco, Draco!" His mother's and Snape's voices were intertwined, almost melding into the background of cries, wails, pleas...

"Please!" He could almost hear his father's pathetic voice, calling out.

"Draco, your father was murdered by the Dark Lord," It was Snape's voice again, but in the darkness. "He – failed to kill one of the Dark Lord's traitors, and even knows a secret about the Dark Lord that he shouldn't have got to know..."

"Please!" His father's once-authoritative voice now reduced to a pathetic whimper. "Please..."

Draco felt his breath freeze inside him, as he sank down into the snow, not caring that he was soaking his robes in the ice. The voices were revolving around in his head, his mother's cries, Snape's utterances, his father's pleas...all of it was hurting his head, hurting! Draco's hands automatically gripped his head, as he closed his eyes tightly, willing everything to change within one second. But he could still feel the cold of the ice, causing him to shiver and shudder. He wasn't sure whether it was really the cold, or the pain inside him.

His father was never the most kindly man on earth. In fact, Draco hated him to the core. He was always away, attending to the Dark Lord's matters, leaving Draco and Narcissa by themselves most of the time. Whenever he returned, he would expound on his expectations for Draco to be top in his classes, to be a faithful servant to the Dark Lord, to be a strong and powerful wizard. But now that he was dead, Draco found himself staring into the eyes of his father, imagining their stern gaze to be wiltered into a pleading one, and found his heart bleeding just to think of it. Despite hating him, Draco had to admit he respected his father for being a loyal man, and how he always thought of Draco first, ensuring that he would have an advantage in everything from young. He knew that it was because of his father's teachings, that he had blossomed into an intelligent and sharp wizard. It was because of Lucius Malfoy, that there was Draco Malfoy.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As Draco made his way down the corridor, he whispered a charm to get rid of all the snow and water on his body, but he couldn't help shaking a little. He bristled at the thought of appearing weak, and tried to steady himself. It was infuriating enough that the whole world felt sympathy, what the hell! He had enough to deal with, what with a hysterical Narcissa and a whole bunch of nosy reporters, without having the whole school poking their noses into how he was feeling, what he was going to do – especially, if he was going to be a Death Eater.

Just when his thoughts were about to shift to that, they were instantly shattered with the sudden realisation that there was a stoic figure in front of him. He raised his cold gray eyes, and was surprised to see flaming red ones meeting them.

"Whitemayer, you're in my way." His trademark silky voice found its way through.

Corrinne's eyes flashed. "You bastard, you don't deserve to come back to Hogwarts."

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits. "Touchy."

The monster in Corrinne flared as she reached into her robes for her wand, but Draco Malfoy was faster. She glared at him venomously as his wand aimed at her forehead. "Like father, like son!" She spat.

It was Draco's turn to glare at Corrinne. "Whitemayer, what do you mean by that!"

"Your father is a murderer," whispered Corrinne, dangerously smirking, as she held onto her wand half-sticking out from her robes. "He deserved it."

Draco was about to utterly lose control when a stern, but familiar voice came ringing through. "Malfoy, what are you doing?" He turned his head to see who the offending intruder was, only to be met by a pair of hazel eyes, which stared defiantly at him. "I said, what are you doing!"

"Miss Know-It-All Granger, I don't need you here at this point in time." Draco sneered, turning his gaze from the bristling Hermione to a raging Corrinne. "I'm here to finish off this piece of..."

His wand flew off before he even had a chance to flick his wrist. Draco spun around, his face scarlet with rage, but was nearly knocked off by another flying wand, only to notice that Corrinne was disarmed, and the girl was flying towards Hermione Granger the next instant.

"You let me get him! LET ME GET HIM! Son of a ..."

Without knowing what he was really doing, Draco ran over and instinctively pulled Corrinne away so hard that the blond-haired girl was sent flying against the wall, and he held Hermione so hard by the arm that she gasped. His eyes were fixated on the dazed Corrinne, flashing madly. "Whitemayer, what the hell do you think you are..."

"And what the hell do you think YOU are doing!" demanded Hermione, shaking her arm off Draco's grip so vehemently that he was startled by her outburst. Draco was so stunned and overwhelmed by the whole commotion that he was struck dumb, and before he could think of any comeback, Corrinne Whitemayer was disappearing down the corridor, sobbing hard, and there was a dishevelled Hermione glaring daggers at him on his left.

"You might be a little more appreciative considering I didn't allow her to box you up into a piece of Mudblood," said Draco, mockingly, as he brushed down his robes, pretending not to see the fury that boiled up in Hermione's face. "I was just..."

He stopped short when he noticed that the fury in her face had boiled over, and was spilling out in tears. Thoroughly shocked by that reaction, he stared at her in disbelief. "What the..."

Hermione turned away. Her shaking, but defiant voice rang out once again.

"I...was just going to t-tell you, Mr Malfoy, y-you have patrol duty on the third floor corridor."

Then she started walking, before quickening her pace into a run and disappearing along a bend. Draco stared after her, a look of bewilderment and anger at the whole commotion. Yeah, so I do have prefectorial duty. Who gives a damn?

Then it occurred to him. Oh hell, I've to do duty with HER!

Surprisingly, he didn't feel smug or nauseous about it. He didn't really know what to feel. All he knew was that Corrinne Whitemayer had said some things that had hit really hard. He deserved it. And his eyes narrowed once again as he traced after the footsteps of Hermione Granger.