Disclaimer: Any mention of Harry Potter and all that are related in my story are the intellectual property of Miss Rowling. She just didn't think of using one of Ukraine's caves as a source of inspiration ;)

A/N: Can't express how grateful I am to my reviewers, please do continue to drop notes so I know what's going right or wrong. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am (: Well so finally, after all that swooping around on brooms, running about in mysterious endless caves, stabbing Horcruxes with basilisk fangs, the action tones down a little!

... or does it? ;)

The next hour or so went by in a blur for Hermione. All she knew was that they had come out of the cave into the damp spray of the sea; she barely remembered a familiar brilliant plume of orange-red that came swooping towards them, before they were plunged into the horrible sucking tunnel of darkness. When she opened her eyes to steady herself, they were back in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore, who was miraculously strengthened once again, was talking to the rest of them, but she couldn't hear anything. She blindly turned to follow Harry and Ron, but somebody grabbed her arm and tugged her back roughly.

"Didn't you hear?" An angry voice hissed at her ear. "He said to stay!"

She looked at the owner of the voice, and stared blankly. His grey eyes were fierce, but at the same time, there were too many other emotions within that she felt weary to decipher. She tore her gaze away from him, and looked back at the Headmaster, who had settled comfortably into his chair.

The person beside her was trembling. And she knew it wasn't just because it had been cold in the cave.

"I owe you an apology, Draco," said Dumbledore, quietly.

Hermione could feel the trembles of the boy beside her escalate into a violent shudder. She let her gaze drop to the carpeted floor. She really was too tired to think.

"Don't. Bother." The gritted voice was full of fury.

"I shall not explain further. But before I request that the two of you tell me your story, please let me enlighten you to the fact..." Dumbledore stood up to point at some black shards at the corner of his table. "That I have destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring."

"Marvolo Gaunt's ring?" Hermione heard the incredulity in Draco Malfoy's voice.

"Tom Riddle's family heirloom. He had worn it for a long time, before deciding to use it as a Horcrux. Fearing that it may be vulnerable on his finger, he then discarded it in the Gaunt shack, near his home. My sources led me there, and it has been destroyed with Godric Gryffindor's sword," said Dumbledore, calmly.

Ring of truth, thought Hermione. But what was the truth?

There was a sharp intake of breath from Draco, presumably of relief.

"In order to create this Horcrux, he had killed his father."

Now there were two audible gasps.

"A very dark truth, indeed," said Dumbledore, grimly. "Now Draco, is that Helga Hufflepuff's cup I see dangling from your fingers?"

It seemed that Draco had forgotten about it, as he reluctantly handed over the cup to Dumbledore. But Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe that you will keep it where it belongs, Draco."

"Where does it belong?" Draco looked annoyed.

"A place where you will keep things in hope to never find it again."

At this, Hermione's mind cleared a little. She opened her mouth, but Draco turned a very fierce gaze onto her. Suddenly, she understood. He didn't want any more interference from anybody. Definitely not Dumbledore.

Am I included?

"Who did he kill for this?" Draco demanded.

Dumbledore looked at him intently. "The last we knew of this cup was that it was a relic, along with Salazar Slytherin's locket, that had been passed down to one of Hufflepuff's descendants, Hepzibah Smith. She kept an odds-and-ends shop in Knockturn Alley, and one day, she was mysteriously killed, and the relics lost. It would have been quite hard to link the disappearance of the relics along with Hepzibah Smith's murder to Voldemort, given that any thief could have accomplished this. Some other murder must have been committed to create another Horcrux out of one of the two relics, but I would not have any idea."

Draco maintained the haughty look, careful not to let any emotion slip.

"So yes please, Draco, your tale."

"I'm too tired to tell it now," snapped Draco. "And I think Granger's going to faint if we stand here any longer."

Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "Of course. How discourteous of me," He waved his hand towards the side of his office, where a door Hermione never knew existed was. "Please have your rest. I would like the two of you to stay here for the moment, as it is unwise to let you go back to your dormitories now, if you understand."

Draco made a growling noise, before he stomped off towards the door. Hermione followed suit, but not before she gave Dumbledore a weary look. He sighed a little, before he waved her towards the room.

There were two large beds inside the room, one green and one maroon. Naturally, Draco dove under the green covers and rolled away from Hermione's gaze. Weakly, she sank into her maroon bed and lay there staring at the ceiling.

"Draco..."

"Shut up." The curt reply came.

She dared not say more. Instead, sleep overwhelmed her, and she fell into a deep, but fitful sleep.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Astoria Greengrass sat upright on her bed, fuming. She clutched at the emptiness that was her neck, and felt her knuckles tense terribly. When Grandma Lily had left, she had tried to look as if nothing was wrong. But Astoria was astute enough to know that Draco Malfoy had clearly exposed her grandmother's identity, and sooner or later, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would come after their family. He would eliminate every part of their family tree for having been associated with a traitor like Maldash Wentervale.

Professor Snape must have been in cahoots with his favourite pupil. How else would he have allowed Draco to speak alone with Grandma Lily after being asked to help protect the Greengrass girls against potential threats! Astoria quivered to think that her grandmother had placed her trust in the wrong person.

She really dreaded going to sleep. One, she knew she would sink into the same frightening nightmare of her entire family being brutally murdered by Death Eaters. Two, she felt as though if she did survive that nightmare, she might wake up to the same fate. The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became. At first, she had just felt very suspicious about how the pendants had been nicked. But when the scale of the danger hit her, it was bone-chilling.

Astoria cast her gaze across the room to where her sister was sound asleep. Daph, do you know that this might be your last night in Hogwarts? She could feel her knees trembling under the sheets as she drew herself together. The anger was ebbing away, and being replaced by a dreadful sense of anxiety and fear. She could recall the sinister image of the slithering serpent around the dark skull on Draco Malfoy's arm...

The haunting voice of her grandmother came back to her. The way she sang words in front of Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy that didn't make any sense to her. Despite Astoria asking multiple times what it was, Grandma Lily had just smiled without answering. She could tell that Draco Malfoy had looked rather mesmerised at that point in time, so he must have understood, but to her complete frustration, Astoria knew nothing. Even though her grandmother had assured her that Draco Malfoy would not hurt them, but Astoria felt as if someone else would. And it would be all because of Draco Malfoy.

But was it really...

Exhausted from thinking and worrying, she buried her head in her arms and sobbed quietly.

At the other end of the room, a pair of eyes peeked out from behind covers, watching her.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I don't understand why we can't all just skip classes like Hermione and listen to Dumbledore explain everything!" grumbled Ron, moodily, as they sank into their seats for Defence Against the Dark Arts the next morning. "And she's the one who likes classes! I don't! And not when I haven't slept the night before!"

"Ron, this really isn't the time to be sulking..." began Harry, but Ron cut in.

"Okay, then how about the fact that she's in Dumbledore's office with Malfoy who just bloody wanted to scram the moment he saw us, leaving us all in that stupid damp cave?"

Harry motioned for him to lower his voice, then sighed. "Yes Ron, you've been on that since we've returned to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore is there." He winced. "Honestly, even though I really really regret making Hermione do this, you can't deny that it's brought out the matter of the Horcruxes..."

"Bull," muttered Ron, rudely. Just at that moment, Pansy Parkinson walked past them. Harry couldn't help noticing that for the past few weeks, Pansy hadn't been hanging around any of the Slytherin girls, but had been mostly about with Blaise Zabini. He secretly wondered if they were dating. But he couldn't think anymore, because she had turned and looked back, her eyes narrowing at them.

"Back off, Parkinson," growled Ron. "Just because darling Draco isn't around doesn't mean we kidnapped him."

"Where is he?" hissed Pansy, her face twitching with anger. "Granger isn't here herself, is she?"

"Why do you keep putting the two of them together? Hermione's just having a really bad headache," replied Harry, wearily. He turned away from Pansy. "You heard Ron. Don't come blaming Malfoy's disappearance on us. He might be on some really important mission that he couldn't let his cronies know."

Ron stifled a guffaw; Pansy turned red and glared at them suspiciously, before she stalked off to sit beside Blaise, who was giving them an equally distrustful look. Ron snorted as he caught their eyes, then turned to face Harry. Behind them, the buzz from the Slytherins was rather loud, so Harry couldn't help but tilt his head to the side to look at them. When a couple of them saw his inquisitive look, they whispered to the rest and the noise died down a little. Harry frowned.

Suddenly, there was a loud slam of the door, and everyone looked up, expecting the cold face of Severus Snape to appear. Instead, there was no one – visible, at least. There was a little clearing of the throat from somewhere, and all the students stared at the emptiness in front of them in confusion.

"Er-herm. Here."

Harry leaned to the side of the desk, only to see the diminutive Professor Flitwick, tapping his foot impatiently with an annoyed expression. Clearly, he must have been disrupted from his class in order to deliver whatever message he was about to deliver. There were light choruses of "oh, there he is...", and Professor Flitwick cleared his throat for the third time.

When the class fell silent, he spoke.

"I am here to inform you that Professor Snape is unable to conduct lessons for today. But Professor McGonagall has remembered assigning all of you extra Transfiguration homework – every house has got it, so she would like to request that you use the time to finish it up in class."

There was a rather strange mix of groans and gasps, but Professor Flitwick wasted no time in listening to it. He was out of the room in seconds, and the class began to chatter furiously with all kinds of conspiracy theories.

"Snape's absent?" Ron rounded on Harry, incredulously. "That's a historic first!"

Harry frowned. "This can't be anything good. Do you think he's snitching to Voldemort about..."

"Us?" Ron's eyes widened.

"Well, he can't exactly snitch about the Order. But he can snitch about Malfoy. And Hermione will just simply get implicated!" Alarm bells started ringing in Harry's head. "Dumbledore told him that the Order was going to find the both of them – surely he'd know what they were up to!"

"What are we waiting for?" Ron whispered, urgently. "Let's go to Dumbledore!"

Harry was about to protest, but then Ron looked so flustered that he relented, and Neville and Corrinne were looking rather glum and weary at the other corner of the class. Something rose in him. With a little wave, he caught the attention of both of them, and jerked his thumb towards the door. Quickly, they leapt out of their seats and headed for the door.

"Hey, where'd you think you people er going, eh? Yer not just skipping class cos yer Harry Potter!" Seamus Finnigan's indignant voice rose from the class.

"Later, Seamus, and the prefects can deduct points if they want, but if I don't do this now, I'm not Harry Potter!" Harry retorted, and the four of them sped out of class.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione groaned as she attempted to push away her covers. Her head was spinning and she felt extremely groggy. It was as if she had downed an entire bottle of Firewhiskey; her whole body was feverishly hot, and everything in front of her was blur – only a shade of maroon, perhaps. She vaguely remembered tumbling into the soft bed, but it hadn't done much to ease her tensed muscles.

As she stretched, she caught sight of a blurry green image at her side. Blinking hard, she saw Draco tucked under the green covers. But his forehead was creased, and his eyebrows were heavily knotted together. Hermione looked at him quizzically as she leaned forward. There were beads of perspiration dotting his face, and his lips were pale and quivering. Startled, she almost wanted to reach out to touch his face, to ease the lines. But she held back in time.

The look in his eyes... she could still remember how they burned a hole in her.

The feverish feeling seemed to intensify, and she gripped her burning forehead with her hand. Weakly, she tried to get up from the bed.

"Don't... don't do this..." A raspy voice issued from Draco. It was almost like – a whimper.

"Don't do this to me... I don't want..."

He must be dreaming of Voldemort, Hermione thought with a pang of ache in her heart. All the possible tortures, punishments that could possibly ensue after the Dementor made its report.

She managed to steady her legs a bit, but one step further, and she felt all wobbly again.

"Don't do this to me... don't lie to me..."

She felt her breath constrict in her throat, as she fell backwards into the bed.

Don't lie to me...

That was most certainly not for Voldemort. At least, she thought so.

"Leave me alone..." His rasps died away into heavy breaths, which became normal puffs in a minute.

Hermione just sat on her bed, shell-shocked.

Before she could collect her wits again, there was a light rapping on the door. Hermione jumped, partly also due to the fact that the green bed started to creak, and she realised that the little sound had jerked Draco awake from his slumber. His blond fringe flopped over messily, and plastered to his sweaty face. Refusing to look at Hermione, Draco clambered out of his sheets, only to groan with frustration as he, too, gripped his forehead.

Hermione bit her lip, got up, and opened the door. Professor Dumbledore looked at them with a worried expression, and then beckoned somebody from behind to come in. It was Madam Pomfrey. Hermione felt rather thankful upon seeing the white-clad lady, as if she was an angel. On the contrary, Draco gave a repressive snarl as he saw her.

"I thought you might be a bit more appreciative, Mr Malfoy, that I am going to help bring that burning fever of yours down," snapped Madam Pomfrey, bustling in with a basin and a few towels. "A little Muggle method will help; the cooling spells will make you want to jump out of bed and walk around, which is what I will really not recommend."

"Muggle!" Draco said it with such repulsion that Hermione cringed.

Madam Pomfrey ignored him, and proceeded to squeeze a few towels vigorously. With a flick of her wand, Hermione and Draco were pushed back to their beds, groaning. The towels were levitated over their heads, and Hermione could feel the soothing effect of the cold and wet cloth immediately. She almost let out a sigh of thankfulness.

Dumbledore, who was still standing by the door, looked at them with such gravity that Hermione was a little puzzled.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Hermione?" said Dumbledore, kindly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm afraid not very so." Dumbledore smiled, but he looked a little haggard. Maybe it was the liquid that Harry made him drink, Hermione thought with a little shudder. The pathetic way in which the Headmaster had been reduced to was still etched in her mind. "But please do not worry unduly. Once the two of you have recovered, I would be really interested to listen to your tale."

Draco made a rude noise, and Hermione instinctively gave him a rather moralising glare. But her look faltered when he met her eyes with coldness. She looked away again. When Madam Pomfrey exited the room, and Dumbledore closed the door, she found herself drifting off to sleep once again.

The next time she woke up, which she hadn't any idea how much time had elapsed, she found the splitting headache gone. Her vision was also relatively clear, only that she felt a little weak. Clambering out of bed, she saw that Draco looked a lot better as well. In fact, he was sleeping so soundly that he was snoring a little. Suppressing a giggle, she opened the door to walk into Dumbledore's office.

The Headmaster was leaning back on his chair with a rather strained look on his face. Hermione was startled to see how worried he looked. Usually, he was quite unruffled by any problem.

"Professor, are you..."

"Oh, Hermione!" Dumbledore turned around to face her, the usual smile breaking out on his face. "I didn't know you were awake. You are well?"

"Quite fine, Professor. Erm... is anything the matter?"

"Ever the perceptive child you are, Hermione. But we must wait for Draco to be awake. I would like to hear the story from both of you at the same time."

"Are Harry and Ron..."

Dumbledore pursed up his lips. "They are fine, Hermione."

Hermione visibly relaxed, and took a seat. Dumbledore eyed her thoughtfully for a while, then towards the door of the room he had opened for them. The memory of a flustered bunch of students bursting into his office the second time in less than two days made him frown. He thought it was best not to let Hermione know that her two best friends, along with Neville Longbottom and Corrinne Whitemayer, had once again interrupted his thoughts with news that he was already aware of.

These children... He pushed up his half-moon spectacles.

There was a creak, and Hermione and Dumbledore turned to see Draco stumbling out, looking rather dishevelled. Hermione frowned as to how he could possibly still look relatively – she felt herself flush thinking about it, and decided to look away again hurriedly.

"I have nothing to say," said Draco, flatly.

"But I have things to ask which you have answers to," said Dumbledore, quietly. "Let me cut to the chase, Draco. I assume the two of you have met Maldash Wentervale before his death."

Hermione remembered how Wentervale burst into a million light pieces, closed her eyes, and nodded.

"And I assume he gave you the clue to Helga Hufflepuff's cup."

"No, he didn't," snapped Draco, but he refused to elaborate. Dumbledore sighed, and then nodded understandingly. "Very well. But you have at least found out the true story behind your father's death, am I right?"

Draco clammed up, his eyes flaring.

"And I am sure that there was some kind of adventure getting to the cup," Dumbledore said. He turned to look at Hermione. "Since Draco is rather unwilling to share with me, will you?"

Hermione glanced sideways at Draco. He was not looking at her. Rather, his fists were clenched.

Whose side was she on?

"Hermione, you must understand that this information is very important for the Order. It is crucial to know what other methods besides the Inferi that Lord Voldemort put in place to prevent people from attacking his Horcrux."

"Don't you speak his name!" hissed Draco, vehemently.

Instead of allowing Hermione time to speak, Dumbledore looked back at Draco with a rather weak smile. "Tell me, Draco, why won't you speak the name? Is it because you genuinely revere the name of this creature? Or that you are so revolted by his actions that you refuse to acknowledge his presence?"

The look Draco was giving Dumbledore was so smouldering that Hermione half-thought he would set the Headmaster on fire.

But it turned out worse. Draco had pulled out his wand.

Startled, Hermione grabbed hers and pointed at Draco. "Put that down!"

"Shut up, Granger!" He barked, icily. "Don't tell me what to do, you two-faced mud-"

She blanched. He uttered a swear word under his breath in place of completing the insult, wand still pointing at Dumbledore.

She felt sick to the stomach.

Dumbledore merely looked calmly at Draco. "And what is this for? To fulfill your duty, or to shut me up?"

"Don't think you're so clever, Albus Dumbledore." Draco sneered. "You don't know me at all. Yes, I wanted to find out the truth behind my father's death, and avenge his death. But I will do anything to avenge his death, including rising to the top of the pack. And what would I not do just to get there? You are but a pawn in my game!"

"No, you're a pawn in his game." Dumbledore sighed again. "Draco..."

Hermione stared at Draco Malfoy. He was uttering a bunch of lies. He knew very well that he would have no place back in the Death-Eaters once that Dementor took tales back to Voldemort.

But Dumbledore doesn't know that! She had destroyed the cup, and Harry, the locket. None of this was done by Draco. And he had appeared to be siding Voldemort when asking Harry to hand over the locket.

She stood there, stricken. Should she reveal the truth?

But what was he doing this for? In the long tension-laden silence, so many thoughts were running through her head. He wanted Dumbledore to believe that he would go back to the Death Eaters, he wanted Dumbledore to stay away from what he was doing. He wanted to hunt for his revenge in his own way, and wouldn't stop at anything. He was furious that Dumbledore and Hermione had allowed for other people to come into his quest, and that Harry had destroyed one of the Horcruxes. Hermione wasn't sure whether this was a case of pride, or that he was angry at being exposed to be on the same side as the Order, or whatever other reason there could be.

Draco was about to open his mouth, when his wand flew out of his hand, and into Dumbledore's.

"You – !" Draco was seething with rage as he lunged forward, but an invisible force pushed him back on the ground. Hermione stifled a yelp, and looked on helplessly as he was pinned to the ground, struggling.

"Get – it – off – me!" He raged, squirming under the invisible pressure.

Dumbledore looked at him with a grave expression. "I may be weakened, but there are many more weak points about you than you think you have, Draco. One of them is that you are incapable of killing somebody you know who doesn't deserve to be killed." And then he suddenly looked at Hermione again. She gasped softly.

Draco stopped squirming, and he followed Dumbledore's gaze to Hermione. An incredulous look formed on his face, then it was replaced by fury again, and then a stony expression. At this rate, thought Hermione, his eyes would become as red as Corrinne's (she had a theory that the colour of Corrinne's eyes was probably due to all the pent-up frustrations within her that made her blood boil to her eyes).

Finally, the invisible force was lifted off Draco, and he immediately got to his feet, brushing himself down with as much dignity as he could manage. Then he made to leave the office. However, when he reached the door, Dumbledore spoke once again.

"Before you go, I have something to tell the both of you."

Draco spun back, his eyes now stone-cold, and his jaw was set hard and firm. Hermione dared not look at him for more than a second, and expressed a quizzical look at Dumbledore.

"There have been two people missing from Hogwarts since the wee hours of the morning," said Dumbledore, very gravely. He looked a lot older, his usual imposing figure sagging a little. "And they are both from your House, Draco."

Hermione gasped in shock. Draco's eyes narrowed at the Headmaster.

"The news has spread around the school already, and many are speculating that it is the work of the Death Eaters. We must be more vigilant than ever, and the wrath of Voldemort is greater than ever as well, given that two of his Horcruxes have been destroyed within a night."

Hermione felt her entire body go rigid. And they know that another Horcrux is within the halls of Hogwarts.

"Even if the two of you may not be willing to tell me the whole story, I must warn you that this concerns the entire school population and not just an individual's quest." Dumbledore was obviously referring to Draco. "So don't be too resistant towards others, because they might be just the people you need to work things out."

Draco didn't wait to hear anymore; he stalked out of the office.

Hermione made to follow him, but her legs were heavy. As she reached the door, she turned around to look at Dumbledore.

"Professor..."

"Have you decided to tell me?"

Hermione hung her head. "I'm sorry."

"My dear, don't be," said Dumbledore, kindly. "You have been incredibly brave and resourceful – I am proud to have you as a student in my school."

Hermione felt something swell up in her; she looked at the Headmaster once again through blurry eyes.

"A very heavy weight is pressed onto your shoulders." Dumbledore took off his spectacles, and massaged the bridge of his nose, before he opened his eyes to look at her again. "Now it's no longer about Harry asking you to do this for him. I'm sure you are aware of how great this responsibility is. But at the same time, Hermione..." He seemed to stare right through her, making her feel extremely vulnerable. "You have your own thoughts, your own emotions, and your own way of handling things."

There was something in his voice that made Hermione look at him in wonder.

"You care for Draco, do you not?"

She opened her mouth to object immediately, but she couldn't say it.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured for her to leave.

Hermione walked out of the office in a cloud of mixed emotions. Outside, leaning against the wall, was Draco Malfoy.

"What are you still doing here?" She found herself asking him, even though she really didn't want to talk to him.

He made no response. His eyes were locked onto her, as if he was trying to figure her out.

"Stop looking at me like that," she whispered, and made to walk away.

She was about to break into a run, when he spoke.

"Granger, you're not stupid, you know what is happening in Hogwarts." Draco's cold voice hurt her ears. "You know why they've taken those two away."

She looked back in his eyes – those grey orbs that made her shudder with fear when they were raging with fire, brim with warmth when they shone, and caused her heart to ache when they were stone-cold. But this time, none of those gazes, not even the one that she couldn't decipher, was in his eyes. Instead, a look of desperation and frustration was there.

Yes, she knew. And now they had to find a way to protect the school, protect those two, and destroy the diadem in the Room of Requirement – all at one go.

Except... Hermione found it painful to stare into his eyes any longer, instead gazing at the ground.

"I just accosted a first-year when I came out," said Draco, thickly, as if it was intensely stressful to speak to her. "To find out who's been missing."

At that, her head snapped up to face him.

"Who?"

"It's Astoria Greengrass – and Snape."