A/N: This part wrote itself. It's mostly talking, and sorting some things out. Again, some romance., won't tell with who. I actually like it because it's sort of deep at parts. I'm starting to like Draco more and more, I don't know if I like him or Ron better anymore. Right, and there's about two more parts after this. It will be a while before the next part though, because I have to much homework! Eurgh, biology...*ahem*

I'm getting less and less reviews *pouts* So let me know what you think! What do you want in my next story? I'm already thinking of it as this one dwindles to an end...



Silver drops sprayed in every direction, filling the air with their shimmer. Feeling lightheaded, Hermione knelt on the ground. The sky darkened past its usual black into a black so piercing and filling that she felt lost in it. Then everything rushed back in a wave of piercing white. Hermione held her head in her hands and caught her breath before willing her eyes to cooperate and look up. She let out a strangled cry.

Ron was sitting up, his eyes wide open, but she could tell he didn't see her. There was still no color about him, save the dead white. Hermione blinked back tears. If she'd ever had to show she was a Gryffindor, strong and courageous, it was now.

"Ron, look at me," she said unsteadily.

Ron's shell turned to her, and stared right at her. She felt her insides writhing within. Blindly, she looked back, not wanting to see him this way, and yet burning to just get another look at him. She held up the wand, because this wasn't Ron, this wasn't the Ron she once knew, it was only an empty body now.

It wasn't her Ron.

He reached out for the wand, but Hermione held it back, out of reach. "No, you can't have it yet," she whispered, well aware of the fact that she was trembling from head to toe. The figure stared at her blankly, and again reached out his hand. "No," said Hermione pointedly, "I told you that you can't have it back." She felt her eyes stinging in her restraint to not cry. To see Ron like this was tearing her apart.

Ron looked at her, his face gaunt and empty, but somehow angry. "If you want it, then come over here!" said Hermione desperately, backing up as she spoke.

He nodded slowly and moved towards her. In a flash he was in front of her, holding out his hand expectantly.

"How did you do that?" Hermione choked out, still holding the wand back. He just stared at her with those vacant eyes, those eyes that usually made her angry, made her laugh, made her cry... "Damn it, Ron!" she cried, "Stop it! You're killing me, you're ripping me apart! Pull yourself together and you can live again!" She didn't care if she was screaming.

Ron just looked confused at this show of emotion. Hermione stomped her foot on the ground in fury and strode right up to Ron. Shocking even herself, she grabbed his arm, pulled him close to her, and gave the wand another flick.



"Where did she go, boy?" Lucius snapped, getting up and wheezing heavily.

Draco shrugged carelessly, "Away, I expect."

Lucius' eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his face. "Did you help her?" he said, his voice so soft that Draco barely heard him. Draco turned to him, and gave another light and carefree shrug. Lucius barred his teeth, "Answer me, idiot boy," he said, his voice not a whisper but a hiss this time.

"I already told you," sighed Draco, making an effort to look slightly irritated, "She went away."

"DON'T BE SMART WITH ME!" snarled Lucius. He lowered his voice and said with extreme effort, "You are my son, I don't want to hurt you. And I do have a wand now, so just answer your...father."

"Father?" said Draco simply, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flickering in the dull light of the moon.

Lucius made a low growl in the back of his throat. "I said answer me."

"You don't want to hurt me," said Draco pensively, tapping his foot. "Then why the hell did you use the crutacius curse on me?" He paused, "That's pain beyond all pain."

"I had to. You were being difficult."

"A real father would never do that to his son!" said Draco angrily. "And if you cared at all you'd never have done that to me."

"Show some respect to your father," said Lucius swiftly.

"You may be my father," said Draco, well aware of how low his voice had dropped and of the trembling one he now had, "But I am not your son."

Lucius regarded him coldly, "We can only hope, Draco, and that rarely gets us anywhere in life. Hope is for the scum of the earth."

"No, sorry. Because then you might have some," Draco said coolly. They lapsed into complete silence, each at a loss for words. Draco was feeling sick. He felt fury, hate, spite, scorn, and anger; all the things that he so wanted to wash from his body forever. Feeling them made him feel dirty, and wrong. He didn't know why.

A soft breeze rippled through his silver hair. Draco swiped at his head to get it away. Too refreshing at a time like this, he thought vaguely, barely making sense to himself. Lucius heaved an over exaggerated sigh, and spoke softly.

"I'm doing this for our family, not just for me. We'll have more wealth then ever before if I should ever reach the Potter boy, and that muggle girl is in the way," he said, his words frigid with their icy tone. "If you care about your mother and..."

"DON'T YOU BRING MUM INTO THIS!" Draco shouted, "You don't give a bloody damn about her. You only married her because you thought she was beautiful! You two never even talk! You're doing this because you're a coward and you're selfish, not because of me, and definitely not because of her." He broke off, breathing rapidly, "Say whatever you'd like. Say you hate having me for a son, call me a failure, hit me with another curse if you need to...but don't lie to my face."

Lucius nodded grimly, "You're a Malfoy deep down. And no matter how much you try to squash that out of you, it will rise again. You can't change for a mudblood, boy, no matter how much you want to."

"SHUT UP!" Draco screamed. He could feel the heat coming from his face.

"You have a fiery temper, and you're quick to the punch. That's Malfoy blood. You're a true Slytherin..."

Draco could feel his hands clenching into fists, "I am not..." He felt his body straining to break free and beat his father with all of his strength. No, he thought solemnly, don't sink to that level. Turning around, he marched in the other direction.

Lucius strode up to him, easily keeping up with his long strides. "Walking away, boy? Scared to be who you are?"

"I'm not like you," Draco growled, still walking.

"Listen to me," snapped Lucius, "The more you deny it the more it grows within you. Have you looked in the mirror lately? The silver-white hair, the cunning good looks, those eyes that reflect nothing..." Draco winced, and his father smirked, "All traits that only a Malfoy can possess. All traits that make up me...and you."

"Sure," said Draco through gritted teeth, "On the outside. But inside, we're nothing alike. And we never will be. We never were."

"Your eyes, boy," said Lucius, "We're the same. Inside and out."



Glancing around, the first thing Hermione noticed was that Draco and Lucius were no where to be seen. Probably got carried away in their battling, she thought nervously. Still, this was right where she'd been before, and this was right where she wanted to be now. With a start, she shoved Ron away from her, not wanting to touch him a moment more then she had to. Ironic, she added to herself dully.

"Look," she said to him, leaning over the ground and staring into the liquid. "I just figured it out. It's not water, if I were to drink it, I wouldn't be me."

Ron stared blankly at her, as she knew he would. But just to speak to him comforted her, so she continued speaking.

"When Draco touched it, he felt like you. When I looked at it, I saw you...No, not you. I saw Ron, not you, you empty, lifeless shell," Hermione shook her head, "Why? Because Ron was in them. When the raefors sucked out his soul, they had to get rid of it. Stupid of me, really. Of course, souls can't just disappear after a dementor sucks them out. They have to go somewhere, just like everything else." Hermione looked up at Ron expectantly. He blinked once.

"Jerk," she mumbled. "They weren't drinking! They were chucking you into this pool! This pool that collects souls. Every soul ever sucked away is put here, until it slowly fades into it and joins the rest. Yours is still there, wearing away by the second! We must find it!" Hermione knew she was getting hysterical, but for every extra moment spent with Ron's body, she was feeling more and more lost.

Abandoning all of her usual wits and sense, she plunged her hands into the liquid. She saw Ron, grinning up at her from within. "Get out," she whispered, her face hot. She drew out her hands, plaited with silver, and she could feel him throughout her. "Come here," she said nervously, beckoning to Ron.

He looked at her, standing still.

"Fine, be difficult," said Hermione, forgetting that he understood nothing. She walked over to him, and very gently clutched his hand in hers.

Warmth seeped into her body, and she saw his hand flush with color. "Ron..." she gasped, pulling away. He moved his hand numbly, and looked at her, his eyes still empty. Hardly aware of her movements, she roughly shoved him to the ground and crouched beside him. Without even looking, Hermione began to frantically splash him with the silver liquid. "If I get enough on you, you'll be okay..." she mumbled, mainly to assure herself that it was so.

Ron put his hands up to block away the liquid. Hermione stifled a shriek.

"You're reacting!" she squealed. Ron shook his head and then crossed his legs, sitting down mindlessly on the grass. Hermione didn't bother asking why he didn't sink, she knew the answer. Without a soul, he weighed nothing...he was only a fragment of his former self. "Come on, Ron, you're gonna be alright..."

Hermione paused quizzically, then shook her head and continued to splash him. Ron sat very still, color flooding him as parts of his soul were returned.

"But I couldn't possibly find all of it. There will always be some part missing," Hermione sighed dejectedly.

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione whirled around. "Draco," she whispered, putting a hand to her chest in relief. "You're alright...how are you alright?"

Draco panted heavily, and knelt down next to her, looking like he was strongly resisting the urge to throw his arms around her. He opened his mouth to reply but instead glanced towards Ron and growled, "What's he doing here?"

Hermione looked to Ron as well, "You know that's what you wanted me to do in the first place," she replied softly. "Where's your father?"

Draco twisted a lock of his hair around his finger, "He went to get Voldemort. Said he couldn't bear to kill me himself."

Hermione opened her mouth in a silent cry.

"My point exactly," muttered Draco, "We have to get away from here."

"I can't leave Ron now," said Hermione.

Ron cocked his head to the side and looked at her. Hermione clasped her hands together and began to furiously throw the liquid on him.

"Hermione, we have to!"

Hermione glared at him, "Help me, you prat." With much muttering and murmuring, Draco began to pool out the water and spill it over Ron.

"The most time we might have is an hour," said Draco sullenly, "And that's only if my father really has trouble finding Him." He grimaced and added, "I reckon we'll be done for if we don't hurry it up."

"I almost lost Ron once, and I won't lose him again."

Draco blinked his eyes once and bit his lip. He fell silent, until only the trickling and splashing of water was heard against the night.

Hermione looked up moments later to see that the usual color had come back to Ron's entire body and face. His hair took on a slightly duller shade of red, but she could recognize him, and he seemed almost real.

"So it's a bit browner," muttered Draco, "That red was gaudy anyway. Let's go."

Hermione folded her arms defiantly, "NO. He may look like Ron, but he doesn't act like Ron. And despite what you may think, I like his personality, not his looks."

"Of course I don't think that," said Draco sniffily, "If you went after looks you'd be madly in love with me by now."

"Went after?" echoed Hermione suspiciously, "What d'you mean by that?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "God, let's not go through this again. Stop kidding yourself."

"Oh, stuff it, Draco," snapped Hermione, collecting the liquid with more vigor then before.

"We'll never get all of his soul back, y'know" said Draco angrily. "Heck, it's not even reaching his skin."

Hermione nodded and dripped some onto Ron's arm. Very slowly, he uncoiled his fingers. Hermione let out a squeak which made Draco scowl even more. Cautiously, Hermione dappled her fingers in the liquid and traced her finger over Ron's mouth and face. Draco's pale face managed to draw some color.

"Right, we got his face, arms, legs, hair," she grinned at Draco, "That's it, eh?"

"Unless you want to take his clothes off," replied Draco bitterly.

Hermione snapped her fingers, "Of course!"

"WHAT?"

"No, no," giggled Hermione, "I only meant that...well, no wonder he's not speaking or anything. It has to reach his heart, Draco."

"I prefer him this way. He's not such a snipey git," growled Draco.

"Well I don't," whispered Hermione menacingly.

"I am not seeing Weasley without a shirt on!" insisted Draco in an unusually high voice.

"Fine then, I'll do it."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? What's next?" Draco cleared his throat, "Draco, I have to take his pants off now to reach..." he stuck out his tongue and wretched.

"Stop being so infantile," snapped Hermione, "And stop being so disgusting. We're not stripping him, you dolt. We're saving his life."

"But it's so...so..." Draco stammered.

"I cannot believe we're having this conversation at a time like this," Hermione muttered.

"Me either," said Draco haughtily.

"Right Draco, he'll look so hot at a time like this, half dead and all," said Hermione, looking ready to slap him, but instead placing her hands on his shoulders and turning him around. "And close your eyes as well."

"Hermione..." Draco whined.

Hermione didn't speak. All Draco could hear was the sound of the water, and of Hermione mumbling to herself. "Okay, you can look now. Hope I didn't scar you for life or something," she said after a few moments.

They both stared at Ron, who was looking slightly taken aback, his shirt ruffled ("Only to save his life," said Draco mockingly), and they waited. Hermione tapped her foot, spoke in low tones to herself, turned about on her heels, then on her toes, and bit her lip so hard once that she drew a thin line of blood; but nothing happened. Draco cleared his throat importantly and said, "Give him back his wand."

Hermione bleakly handed Ron his wand. Looking at it, he turned it around and around and then stood up. Cautiously, he turned to Hermione and Draco, and then pointed the wand at his head. Nothing. Hermione stalked up to him superciliously and grabbed the wand. Swiftly, she pointed it right at his chest, and looked him in the eyes. She could see a silver haze drifting from the tip of the wand. It felt cooling and relieving against her hand. Ron looked down at her, and their eyes locked.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Hermione?" he said, pushing the wand away from his chest, "Been learning from Malfoy?"

Hermione felt the wand slide from her grip as she stumbled backwards. "Thank God," she whispered, feeling tears streaking her face already.

"Are you alright?" said Ron nervously.

"Don't you...you...remember..." sobbed Hermione.

Ron inched closer to her, "Remember what? I remember seeing Malfoy's dad, and then well, I really don't recall much beyond that. And I remember you snogged with Malfoy," he added, scowling.

Hermione gave a depressed giggle, feeling the heaviness in her gut rising and seeping out of her. "Ron, I was so scared..."

"Could you fill me in on why?" said Ron casually, "I feel..." he shifted uncomfortably, "Rather empty."

Hermione breathed heavily, "I can't say now, we have to...to..." she sighed, and turned away. Ron looked at her, his eyes narrowed in question.

"We'd better get going," Draco cut in sulkily.

Hermione nodded weakly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Wait," said Ron. "Malfoy, what's going on?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Can't talk about it now, Weasley. Let's get going."

"C'mon, Ron, maybe we'll get back in time for classes," said Hermione, smiling tightly.

"Do you think about anything except school?" said Ron lightly.

"Oh..." sighed Hermione, "Sometimes."

Ron inched closer to her. "Like?"

Hermione could feel herself flushing, "Like...stuff," she muttered, staring fixedly on the ground.

"What type of stuff?" Ron moved even closer to her. Hermione breathed quickly, resisting the temptation to back away, though she didn't know why she'd want to do that.

"Oh..." said Hermione again, "I don't know."

"Come on," said Draco stiffly.

"Hold up a bit," replied Ron.

"Listen, we just saved your life for the hundredth time. The least you could do would be to actually do what we say," snapped Draco.

"Don't act so excellent, Malfoy. I might not all rich like you, but I'm just as good. Because unlike you, I have a heart and a..."

"Don't say it, Ron," Hermione cut in.

Draco sneered, "Give me a single way that you're as good as me, Weasley."

Ron glowered at him, "Like this."

Hermione let out an audible gasp as Ron wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her up to him, and pressed his lips to hers. Her entire body went rigid with shock. Kissing Ron was...was...well, nothing like kissing Draco. Maybe because he was her best friend, maybe because it was in the dark, whimsical feel of the night, but it just felt so...right. Not that kissing Draco felt wrong. Hermione's head spun in all directions and she felt her knees threatening to give way. Ron's grip around her waist tightened, holding her up. She couldn't even tell if she was kissing him back, just that her arms had found their way about his neck and that she never wanted to let go.

Ron's hands gripped her wrists and abruptly, she felt her back slam into a tree. She was dimly aware of the adrenaline rushing through her body as she felt Ron pressing so forcefully into her that she could feel his heart beating against hers. And she wasn't aware of the tree's rough trunk scraping against her back. She wasn't aware of the fact that her lips were parting against Ron's. She wasn't aware of anything, not even that Draco was still standing right behind them.

"If you're finished with this extreme session of snogging, could we please get a move on?" Draco cut in extremely coldly.

Hermione's voice caught in her throat and she broke away from Ron. He grinned at her, then looked at Draco and said flippantly, "Guess I'm better then you in some ways."

Hermione raised her hand to slap him as she usually would have done, but found that her anger with him had faded away. She thrust her hand into a fist and hit it against her other palm. Ron and Draco were looking at each other, eyebrows raised, as if a mere stare could kill...

"Ah, well then, better be going or we're going to be in real trouble," Hermione said, her voice giddy and fake with expression.

"Yeah, let's," said Draco dully.

They all began to walk quickly, none of them speaking at all. The silence went unbroken for quite a while, until Hermione brushed past Ron's ear.

"Was that only to prove yourself?" she whispered, her voice vacant of all expression.

"No, it just fell at the right moment," said Ron, flashing a grin, "If I hadn't said that, I still would have...had to prove myself."

Hermione nodded satisfactorily, and continued to walk.



Hermione leaned against the base of a tree, panting. She wasn't sure if it was contentment, excitement, or exhaustion. Probably a bit of each...

Ron was acting slightly less violent towards Draco then usual, and he seemed a bit...flat. It would all go away, Hermione told herself, when they woke up. If they woke up...ever...

Draco walked over to Hermione, and stared down at her meaningfully, "I should have known better," he said quietly but stiffly. "Let that be a lesson to you, Granger. Don't get close to anyone. Don't make friends. And never love." He glared at her and then shook his head despairingly, "Then you can't be hurt."

"Draco..." Hermione said, "Don't say that stuff. You know it's not true..."

"It's true. I was wrong to try and change. I'm a Malfoy. Cold, cruel, and collected at all times," said Draco, "I guess I shouldn't have tried in the first place. It was always so..." He clicked his tongue in his mouth, "Obvious."

"What was obvious?"

"Listen, Granger..."

"DON'T YOU START THAT!" shouted Hermione.

Draco shrugged, "Whatever. The point is that you were here because you had the book, I was here because I knew about it, but then; why was Weasley here?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," snapped Hermione.

"I used to think I was flat, Hermione. One sided, nothing but hate inside me. And after knowing you, I felt different," said Draco crisply, "But I guess I was kidding myself. Nothing ever changes for the better."

"You're lying to yourself," said Hermione desperately.

"I'm not."

"You are! I hated you the way you were! You made my life a living hell! And now...now you've added something to it. And I like it, Draco. I'm just..." she broke off.

"I don't know who I am anymore! I can't be who I was, but I'm not who I am," he shook his head, "Sometimes I just feel so..."

"Lost," they chorused. Hermione blinked a few times, and sighed. She turned around and trudged over to Ron. Draco kicked the ground. He could hear her summarizing what had happened to Ron, he could hear Ron gasping and whispering back. He felt sick.

"So really," Hermione was saying, "the reason Draco and I were so moody was because of that. All of the emotions trapped in this pool were seeping into us and changing the way we acted." She sighed and pulled her robe tighter about her.

"Freaky," said Ron. "And I sort of went and...lost my soul?"

Hermione looked at the ground with a bit of a smile, "For me. You did that for me."

"Did you expect me to just let you go evil on me?" said Ron.

"Well, your life Ron...it was too high a price to pay."

"Life for a life. I dunno about that," Ron replied softly, "Listen, that was nothing so just put it behind you."

"You saved my life. How can I just put that behind me?"

"It's quite simple. Just forget about it," Draco cut in, his voice quiet but sharp.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, "Draco, please."

"You asked a question, I answered," said Draco, his voice taking on its usual drawl.

"Stop being so damn jealous," Hermione snapped.

"Jealous? Me?" echoed Draco, "I don't give a damn if you make out with Weasley. Really, I could care less. Try me. Go on." He folded his arms expectantly.

"Draco, quit it," Hermione said, her voice a growl.

"Yeah Malfoy, stop being such a..." Ron started angrily.

Hermione shot him a glare. Ron pursed his lips.

Draco threw up his hands and glowered at them both. "Right, that's it! I don't care anymore. You don't have any idea what my life is like. You don't know what it's like to have no friends in the world and to have an arch nemesis who's a famous hero. You don't know what it's like to not have a family!"

"You have a family..." Hermione began.

"I don't," Draco snapped. "I might as well not have one at all. My mum's an ornament to my father, just like some nice jacket, or a new sofa. My father...he hates me. He can't stand who I've become, he couldn't stand who I was. You know why? Because he only wants some carbon copy of himself. Some muggle hating, scornful, hateful bastard who cares for no one and has no one caring in return!" He broke off, his face flushed and his body rigid with emotion. Hermione turned to him.

"I had no idea," she whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Draco flinched and pulled away, as if she'd touched his skin with poison. "No one does."

"You gave in to it," said Ron quietly. "You let yourself feel all that hate. If you seriously wanted to be yourself, why did you even listen? You could've just said no."

"Lovely idea, Weasley. With just one hitch," Draco smiled grimly, "If I'd done that, I would have been beaten senseless. My father might not want to kill me, but he has no problem with punching me around whenever he has a few frustrations." Draco paused and then said quirkily, "We all have secrets. Some will be found, some will be considered, but most will go undiscovered by those that would most like to learn them."

Hermione felt her lips involuntarily parting in a smile. "That's so...true. So real." She put on a sympathetic grin and said lightly, "You should've been born a muggle. I have a feeling you'd be an excellent writer."

Ron grimaced and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Excellent writer..." he mumbled dully.

"Would you stop it?" snapped Hermione dourly, "Really Ron, you're being such a prat lately."

"I'm tired," said Ron.

"You're not," said Hermione, "You're exhausted. We all are." She turned to Draco and said hopelessly, "I really don't see any way that we might get out of here."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but when he did it was in a lower, and cooler voice. Hermione choked out a gasp and whirled around.

"I don't think you need to worry about that any longer," came the voice. Draco snapped his mouth shut mid sentence.

"You still won't repent?" said Lucius.

"We just keep crossing paths, don't we?" said Hermione curtly.

"Answer my question, mudblood, then there will be time for other things."

Hermione furiously shook her head, "I'd never! NO!"

"Very well," said Lucius. "I always thought that a mudblood shouldn't be considered a true witch. Don't you agree, Draco?"

He looked at his son who was shaking with fury, "Expeliarmus," he added succinctly, pointing his wand at Ron. Ron's wand flew from his grasp. Lucius turned it over once, and then snapped into four even parts. Ron went white.

"Now then, to business," said Lucius momentarily, "Magic. We live in a world where nothing is impossible, do we not? Everything is magic. Sometimes, something happens that disturbs the magic. A mistake," he glared at Hermione who glared right back. Unfazed, he turned back and continued, "And magic is too good for these. Mudbloods. They don't deserve to live by magic. And they don't deserve to die by it." With on swift movement he was behind Hermione, his cold hands resting on her neck and keeping her in place. She swayed on the spot, everything about her blurring.

"I might do this easily. You might die from a simple curse. But no, you're a mudblood, and just to curse you would be dirtying my mouth and hands. So I figure a muggle punishment might be more sufficient," Lucius looked around at Draco and Ron. Neither had budged. Hermione parted her lips very slightly and mouthed, run for it. Ron shook his head openly. Draco just stood still.

Lucius reached into his robes and fumbled about for a moment. Then he drew something out and held it lightly between his fingers. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to block out the way the dagger glinted in the pale halo of the moon. He sharply drew the knife across his palm, drawing a thin, clean line of blood. He didn't flinch, only whispering, "Well then, it seems to be in order."

"Any last words?" said Lucius, holding it to her chest. Her stomach squirmed within her making her totter on her feet.

"Only that I'll wake up," whispered Hermione.