Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to J.K.Rowling. The Glacios curse and plot belong to me! Hands off!
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~*~
Days passed, and miraculously Harry and Ron's plan was still working. Draco had tried to tell Hermione a few times, but the two Gryffindors had always stopped him. It seemed to Ron and Harry that he was indecisive about whether he should tell her or not, and only attempted to when he got the courage. They were partly right: he was undecided, but courage had nothing to do with it. He attempted to tell her when his heart was winning the internal battle that went on whenever she was near, when his head was simply so fed up of the argument that it would do anything to end it. The heart never got fed up.
Hermione was getting slowly more and more irritated at Harry and Ron. They almost seemed to be stalking her; offering to walk her everywhere, and finding some excuse to follow her if she refused. When she had been sent a letter from home, they demanded to know who it was from, almost hysterically. After every Runes lesson they crowded around her, asking what had happened, what she had talked about with Draco. It was driving her up the wall. What was wrong with them? Even if they were just worried about her working with Draco, they had never been this panicky about him before she had been kidnapped. They could not possibly think he was a danger to her, not after he had helped in the rescue. There was something she didn't know about. It was the only explanation.
~*~
Hermione sped into the library like a whirlwind, ten minutes later than the time they had agreed to meet. Draco was lounging in their usual spot, his papers spread out tidily on the table before him.
'I've been waiting.' he said reproachfully.
Hermione slid into the seat next to him, and began pulling out her things. 'Sorry.' She said. 'Ron and Harry were holding me up.' She pulled out the quill Harry had given her for Christmas, and glanced at the empty parchment in front of Draco. 'Didn't you do any while you were waiting?'
'I wasn't expecting you to be this late.' he said, raising a disapproving eyebrow. 'And I didn't know which pages we were translating.'
'You ought to have written it down!' Hermione exclaimed.
'I did, but then I lost the parchment I wrote it down on.'
Hermione shook her head. 'You boys are all the same.'
'And what's that supposed to mean?' He looked amused
'You're always forgetting things and losing things...' Draco cut her off before she could get fully into her vendetta.
'I resent that. Have I lost anything else before?'
'Well, no...'
'Precisely.' He leant back in his seat. 'So which pages?' he prompted.
Hermione grudgingly told him. '156 onwards.'
They scribbled in silence for a few moments, the translation taking dominance in their thoughts.
'So... How was your day so far?' asked Hermione.
'Pretty good actually.' said Draco, dipping his quill in the inkpot. 'Apart from Transfiguration. Surprise test.' He frowned.
Hermione's eyes grew wide. 'What? A test?' She looked vaguely panicked. 'What was it about? Was it hard?'
Draco smiled in spite of himself. If he had been the kind of boy who was at all romantic, he would have thought something along the lines of how sweet she was when she got worried about schoolwork, and possibly added something about warm and fluffy butterflies. But he wasn't, and he didn't. 'Don't panic. It was pretty easy.' he told her.
She looked rather less worried, but still said, 'I should do some revision just in case…'
'Don't you think that rather spoils the point of a surprise test?'
Hermione considered this. 'Well yes but... oh I'm going to be nervous for the whole day!'
'When's your next lesson?' he asked casually, scribbling down a rune.
'Last thing today.'
'Well you wont be nervous for too long.' He reassured her. There was a pause. Tell her now! some part of him said. Get it over with! What's the worst that could happen?
The worst was actually quite bad, when he thought about it. He drew a deep breath, berating himself because Malfoys weren't supposed to need deep breaths.
'Hermione?' he asked.
'Yes?'
'I...' Curse it, they weren't supposed to lose the power of speech either! 'Do you...'
Harry and Ron burst out from round the corner.
'Hermione! There you are!' exclaimed Harry, as the two boys slipped into the seat opposite. His wide smile seemed rather fake.
'We've been looking all over for you!' added Ron
'I thought you were practicing Quidditch?'
'It... er... we couldn't. Someone else was using the field.'
Hermione looked out of the nearest window. 'I can't see anyone.'
'Oh, they must have gone!' said Harry, his fixed grin never slipping. 'Lets go, Ron'
The two boys left as quickly as they had come, leaving the two staring after them.
'That was... weird. As I would expect.'
'Strangely enough, I have to agree with you.' said Hermione, staring with furrowed brow at the corner around which they had disappeared. The two worked silently for a minute or so.
'What were you going to say before Harry and Ron barged in on us?' Hermione asked eventually.
'Well...' Draco began, pausing to amass his nerves. 'I was going to tell you... ask you...'
In a bizarre moment of déjà vu, Harry and Ron ran in again. Hermione stared at them, bewildered. 'What are you doing here?' she asked.
They looked rather blank.
'We forgot to...' began Harry
'To ask you... what you were doing tonight!' Ron finished.
Hermione looked sceptical. 'Same thing I do every night. Work, followed by sitting around the fire talking. Why?'
'Er, we were going to ask you to play chess.' Ron invented.
'It's no fun playing against Ron because he always wins.' Harry added.
'Harry, I always beat you as well.'
Harry floundered. 'Yes, but you're more fun to play against because I come closer to winning.'
'So will you?' Ron prompted.
Hermione was rather bewildered. 'Sure…'
'Good. See you later!' Harry grinned, and the two hurried off. In the wrong direction.
Draco shot a suspicious glare after them.
'Those two are up to something.' Hermione said in an irritated tone.
'Yes, they are.'
They continued talking quietly, as normal, about nothing in particular, when Hermione spotted a doodle on the corner of his paper.
'Hey, what's that?' she asked, reaching out to pull the paper closer. He tried ineffectually to push it away, but she pulled it around to see a small but detailed drawing of what appeared to be a manticore, its fearsome stinging tail raised and ready to strike.
Hermione glanced upwards to see Draco frowning at her in a rather sulky way that made him look about eight.
'I was only doodling.' he protested. 'And I know it's really bad, and…'
'It's not bad!' she exclaimed. 'It's really good.'
'It's not.' he argued. 'It's only a doodle. And I messed up the head.'
Hermione peered at the manticore's head. 'It is a little wonky. But it's a lot better than I could do.'
'Is it?' Hermione noted the tone of pride in his voice. She had an idea.
'Yes it is. Close your eyes a second.'
'Why?'
'Just do it.'
Obediently, Draco closed his eyes. Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket.
'Vividus.' She muttered, and watched, hoping it was done right… Slowly, the manticore began to move, at first as if through some viscous liquid, but then smoother and freer. It slammed its tail down and thrashed fearfully.
Hermione pushed the drawing back in front of Draco. 'You can look now.' she said, voice full of excitement. He opened his cool grey eyes, and looked at the picture.
'It's a bit more violent than I'd have thought.' he remarked.
'It certainly is.' Hermione remarked, watching it thrash. The runes around it remained quite still, seeming almost apologetic for the behaviour of their ink-brother.
'It'll calm down.' Draco sounded remarkably sure of himself. 'Thanks.'
Hermione glanced up from the doodle in time for her eyes to be captured by Draco's. He was smiling, a faraway smile that didn't belong on his face, and she found her breath caught in her throat.
There was a rustle, and a muffled cry from around the corner. She tore her eyes away, and glared angrily at the bookshelf the noise had come from.
'Who's there?'
But now a horrendous smell was filling the area.
'Dungbomb.' Draco choked, his nose wrinkling elegantly. Hermione burst into a loud coughing fit.
'Lets… get out… of here.' She spluttered. Draco grabbed their things, and they left for an area of the room with a more pleasant aroma.
A few seconds later, they were followed by the sound of two pairs of footsteps.
~*~
Dinnertime that day was to prove ominously fateful, although from the familiar scene Hermione saw as she entered the dining room late, you would never have guessed it. It was just like any other day; the chatter of many voices forming into a single wave that filled the hall and echoed faintly. The clouds on the ceiling swirled a gentle grey in a pale blue winter sky. Thinking back on it later, she would remember a faint feeling of strong magic, and the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
Hermione hurried down between the tables, taking her usual seat across from Harry and Ron, who were stuffing their faces as usual. She heaped her plate with sausages and gravy, and ate hungrily.
It was about five minutes later that, without so much ceremony as an eerie wind or suddenly extinguishing candles, that the first dark cloaked and hooded figure appeared. Hermione frowned in puzzlement – what was going on? And how had they Apparated… But then more and more figures materialised, and with a sudden cold sickening Hermione realised.
Death Eaters.