CHAPTER 2
"I'm so sorry." He really was, that wasn't part of any plan. He reached out to bring her to him, but she raced away to her room. "I have to do it," he thought, and ran down to the kitchens.
Once he got there, he walked over to one of the house elves and said, "I need a knife. A sharp one and fast."
"Sir, is you going to harm yourself, sir?" he piped up.
"NO! I just need to-well-never mind. I just need it, okay?"
The house elf brought the knife out to him. He ran back up to the common room, and into his dorm. He rolled up his left sleeve and placed the knife on his bare skin. Not caring if it would hurt, he dug the knife into his skin and began cutting the Dark Mark out of his arm.
Ten minutes later, it was gone, and his arm was bleeding like crazy. He grabbed his wand, and did a spell to re-grow the skin. Suddenly, the layers started to form and his arm looked just like it did before he received the Dark Mark. After his skin grew back, he did a cleaning spell to clean where all the blood was.
Not being the sympathetic type, Draco didn't exactly know what to say to Hermione, but decided to take a stab at it anyway. Slowly, and nervously, he made his way to Hermione's room. He knocked lightly, and when there was no answer, he knocked again.
"Go away!" came a small, quivering voice.
"No. Let me in, Granger."
"Why? So you can do what you always do, call me a stupid, pathetic Mudblood, and make me feel like shit?"
"No, I wanna help you," he said quietly.
"I don't want your help Ferret Boy! What would you know about sympathy? You're a rich, stuck-up, pure-blood, snob! I don't need or want your help, so leave me the fuck alone!"
"Listen, Granger, I don't care what you think, but I can help you. I know what you're going through I've lost people who were close to me. Right now, you need a friend, and I'm willing to be your shoulder to cry on, but if you don't want me to be there, then fine I won't be. Don't be begging for me to help you later! I probably won't!"
He stalked off to his room, and thought, "I'll be there whenever she needs me. She's one girl I'll always be willing to help out."
That night, he didn't sleep well. Partly because if he had stayed home, he might have helped with those murders.
By the time he woke up, he was feeling a little more refreshed, but really wanted to take a shower. He opened the door to the bathroom, and sitting there in the tub, with bubbles surrounding her was Hermione.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she screeched, putting her arms over her already covered chest. "Are you spying on me, you sick, perverted asshole?!"
He closed his door than said through it, "No, Granger, I'm not, I just wanted to take a shower."
"Well, next time knock, Ferret Boy. There's someone else who has to use this bathroom now."
"Well, Mudblood, firstly, I don't take orders, especially not from you. Second, I do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want and you can't stop me from doing so."
After saying that, he immediately regretted it. "Asshole!" he silently cursed himself, but the remainder of his thoughts were cut off by her sobs.
"Look, Granger, I didn't really mean that. It just kinda slipped, you know outta habit. I really don't wanna be like this anymore, but I'm really gunna need your help. Okay?"
More sobs, then, "You will never change, Malfoy. You will always just be the same pick ass mother fucker that I met in my first year here!"
"Granger, look I can help you, and you can help me. Won't you just open your eyes and look around?"
There was silence through the door. She was obviously thinking long and hard about her response. After a long minute, she answered, "I'll be polite to you for the rest of this year, but only because we'll be spending a lot of time together for the rest of the year. I promise not to curse at you or call you Ferret Boy, as long as you don't call me Mudblood. Agreed?"
"Yes, now can I please take a shower? I feel so dirty," he begged her.
"Alright, but you don't look at me in the bath, and I don't look at you in the shower. K?"
Draco grabbed what he needed for the shower and went into the bathroom. He walked right into the shower without even stealing a glance at Hermione, just as he promised.
Once he was in the shower, he took off his robe and hung it outside the stall and turned on the water.
"This isn't always gunna happen like this, you know?" he yelled over the running water.
"What's not?" she asked
"You're not always getting the bath. I gotta relax sometimes too."
"Oh yeah? Well, that's not what I was thinking, Mr. Malfoy. I was thinking that it was gunna happen like this every morning. I'm gunna wake up before you have a chance to claim the bath, then make you beg to use the shower."
"Well, Ms Granger that just doesn't sound fair on my end. I think I should make you beg for the use of the shower." Draco was just about finished with his shower. It never took him more than ten minutes to feel totally refreshed.
"And why would you do that," she asked.
"Oh, just for my own sick, twisted pleasure. He smirked that famous smirk, wrapped a black towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower.
Hermione was about to say something, but when he came out, she totally forgot what they were talking about. All she could do was stare at Draco and think about how damn sexy he looked just then.
"What's the matter, Granger? You like what you see?"
"Well-uh no-umm-I-I-well-I-yeah."
His smirk became wider and he shook his head. "Watch your bubbles, Granger. You wouldn't want to-expose anything, now would you?"
She began fixing the bubbles even though they hadn't even moved, then glared at him as he went into his room.
Draco put on just boxers, and a pair of long, black shorts. He didn't bother with socks or a shirt. It was just too damn hot in his opinion. His mind was still in a mix while he began fixing his hair. "Why was she looking at me like that? Could she possibly like me too? What if she does? Should I ask her out? No way, asshole, she'll never feel the same way about you. Don't even bother."
He walked into the bathroom to hand up his towel. Hermione was standing there in her Gyffindor robe with her back to him. She was drying her hair. When she heard the door open, she turned around to face him. Obviously, Draco hadn't meant to intrude on anything, but he just stood there watching her. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, and he felt energy such as he had never felt before. He felt that he could have just stood there all day staring into her deep, brown eyes. It was Hermione who broke the contact. Blushing furiously, she turned away into her room.
"That was odd," he thought hanging up his towel. "I gotta go write."
** I don't know what's going on. I'm sitting in the common room reading, when Hermione turns up saying that Voldemort killed her parents. So I start thinking, what if I was there, I would've helped. I started to feel guilty and cut the Dark Mark out if my arm. I repaired it to make it appear that nothing was never there. If Voldemort finds out, I'm done for. He'll kill me without a second thought. Hermione decided that she doesn't want to fight with me, so I willingly agreed with her. We actually mad eye contact this morning. I just stood there, looking into her big, beautiful eyes. I didn't move to do anything else. It was like there was some invisible fore holding me back. I was frozen there, like a zombie or something. I got to start sorting things out before they get bad. **
When he hid his journal, he yelled, "Granger!"
"What?" came the muffled reply from her room.
"I'm going down to breakfast, wanna come?"
"Yeah. Just gimme five minutes. K?"
"Sure."
Draco sat waiting for her in the common room, his thoughts still running rampant. "Just because I like her doesn't mean I hafta befriend Potthead and Weasel, right? Or would she make us get along? Or will they start fighting? Or will she totally ignore me when they get here? Or is she going out with one of them already? No, I think she mighta said something already, maybe. Maybe she likes me, I mean the way she was looking at me before. What if she's just trying to get over her parents, then what do I do?"
He didn't have anymore time to think because she came down and was standing right in front of him. "Ready?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh yeah." He suddenly remembered, "Hold on. Accio!" A shirt, socks, and shoes came flying down to him.
"Now, why didn't you do that while you were waiting?" she questioned impatiently.
"Um-well-I was-uh-busy thinking," he muttered as he finished dressing. Not waiting for a response, he headed out the portrait.
"Ok," she answered.
They walked silently down t breakfast, each thinking about the other. When they walked into the Great Hall, Dumbledore greeted him warmly. "Hello Ms Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Nice of you to join us. Today, after breakfast, I would like you to come with me to my office. Since you are both here early, we might as well get down to business early."
Draco looked at Hermione as she sat down next to him. She looked back, but didn't say anything, just nodded to Dumbledore, and said, "Okay."
Dumbledore spoke again, but all he said was, "Let's eat!" The breakfast appeared on the table, and they all began to eat. Not much talking went on, just a long awkward silence all around.
Once everyone had finished, Dumbledore beckoned Hermione and Draco to follow him into his office. More silence followed. Finally, Hermione spoke up, "Why are we needed more than ever this year than ever before, Professor?"
"Ah, you will find out soon enough. Lemon Meringue Pie." They had reached the gargoyle and were now ascending the spiral staircase.
Draco looked around and saw Fawkes sitting on his perch, looking young and beautiful. Nothing had changed since the previous year, when he was in there because of death threats from his father. Some of these threats came near to reality and Draco was forced to become a Death Eater.
"Sit please," said Dumbledore. "We are here to discuss some of the important duties you will be taking on this year as Head Boy and Girl. You are expected to be model students, someone that the younger students will look up to. You are also going to plan the Halloween, Christmas, and Valentines dances. You will be expected to check the halls to make sure no one is where they're not supposed to be; out after hours, and such." His bright smile turned quickly into a frown and the twinkle left his eye. Both Draco and Hermione knew what he said next would be very serious. "This year, you will also have another job that no Head Student has ever had. You are the brightest students this school as seen in a number of years. We, myself and the staff, feel that you are up to the task. It will be your job to take down Voldemort."
All of a sudden Draco looked very shocked, and Hermione was gaping. "How- we-he has power-uh-he'll kill us," Hermione stumbled.
"Hermione, we are going to train you in how to defend yourselves against him. By the time you fight him, you will be well trained. Why don't you go up to the common room? I must talk to Draco in private for a while."
She nodded her head and headed back still shaking.
He turned to Draco and said, "I know about you being in a league with Voldemort, but we really need you turn. You and Hermione are our only hope."
"Professor," Draco started. "There's something you don't know."
Dumbledore looked confused. Draco turned his left arm over and showed him his Dark Mark free arm. "Well, Draco, I have to say, I am impressed. Your father, does he know?"
"I can't tell him and I don't wanna tell Granger that I was a Death Eater for a greater part of the summer. It'd kill her. And if my father knew I took the Dark Mark off, he'd kill me."
Dumbledore pondered his answer for a moment before answering. "You don't have to make your choice now, but you might eventually want to release your secret."
"I'll think about it, Professor," Draco said as he left.
"Yeah right," he thought once he was in the hall. "I'm never telling them, they'd kill me. I wanna stay as far away from my father as possible, and I want Hermione to trust me. She'll never trust me if she knew I was a Death Eater."
"Darkness is Forever." He reached the common room and saw Hermione on the couch looking very upset.
"What's wrong, Granger?"
"We'll never be able to do this, You-Know-Who is much too powerful. Two seventeen year olds aren't going to bring down the most powerful wizard of the age."
"Yeah, but we're some of the smartest wizards of our time. We'll be able to kill him. Think about it, you're the smartest in the school, and I'm a close second, we can do it. Plus, I learned some dark magic from my father. We're unstoppable, Granger, think about it. He won't kill us, trust me. He's not after us."
"Yeah, but to him I'm just a lowly Mudblood. I'm the people he kills. He wants me dead."
"Not you, its Potter, Potter is who he wants. He's not gunna kill you, but we're gunna have to save Potter, for your sake."
"You-a Malfoy is gunna save Harry Potter? HA I laugh!"
"I'll do it for your sake, but I won't do it alone. I need your help. Are you gunna help to save your Precious Potthead, or are you gunna lay back and let him die? If it wasn't for him being your best friend, I'd let him die, hell, I'd hand him over, but since he means that much to you, I'll save him. Now, Granger, are you gunna help or not?"
"I'll help you, Malfoy. But I gotta know something. How come you're being so nice to me? Why aren't you being like you usually are?"
"Well," he contemplated his answer. "We have to live together all year, I just thought we might not want to be at each other's throats. We should try and get along."
"You know, Malfoy, I don't really hate you. I do see something else besides coldness when I look into your eyes. You're not all bad-ass as you first appear."
"And how long did it take you to see that?"
"Almost seven years," she blushed and turned away. "I thought you were a real asshole up until this morning."
"Well, thanks, most people never see that there's more to me than hate. I think you're the second person to figure that out."
"Really? Who's the first?" she questioned.
"Dumbledore," he answered calmly. "That man knows the real me. He knows most of my life."
"Is that a good thing? I mean is it good to have someone know so much about you?" she was expecting him to go crazy on her, but he remained calm.
"Having Dumbledore knowing is definitely a good thing. No one else would understand."
"What about me?"
"Maybe I'll tell you some other time. I just can't tell you right now. I gotta go to my room. I have some work to do."
Hermione stared after him, not really sure of what to do. She figured it best to let him go without saying anything.
"I have to tell her," he thought once he was in his room. "She has to know. I should write to Cephius, he'll know what to do."
Cephius was a friend of Draco's, who lived in the U.S. They had met at a wizard convention in France two years earlier. They instantly became friends, even though Cephius wasn't into the Dark Arts, there was something Draco had liked about him. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and began:
Hey Cephius, Sorry I haven't written in a while, but you Know about the whole thing with my father and You-Know-Who. How are things in the states? I'm not doing so great over hear. You know about that muggle girl who I told You about who I'm like totally in love with? Well, It turns out that she's Head Girl and I'm Head Boy. We're sharing a living quarters for the whole Year. Remember when I told you at the beginning Of the summer when my dad made me become a
Death Eater? Well, I cut the Dark Mark out of My arm because I hate that guy. Dumbledore reckons I should tell Hermione The truth, but I can't. She might not trust me, And I want her to be able to trust me. What do You think I should do? I'm so scared of what She might say or do to me. Please help me.
Thanks, Draco "That should do it," he thought. He called his owl, tied the letter around his leg, then sent it off. Laying down on his bed, he looked up at the canopy and closed his eyes. The first image that popped into his mind was of Hermione.
There was still a while before lunch and he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He grabbed his Nimbus Two Thousand and One and hurried off to the Quidditch field. Once he got there, he kicked off the ground and soared high into the air. The wind was blowing against his face and blowing through his hair. He could hear it whistling in his ears. This is where he belonged, and he knew it.
After flying around for a little while, he began diving and practicing move he'd seen professional Quidditch Seekers use. "I'm going to lead Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup this year. There's no way Potter will beat me, not this year!" He was determined to beat Harry Potter in his final year at Hogwarts.
At about one, Draco got tired and headed back up to the common room. When he arrived, Hermione was reading on the couch. Without looking up, she asked, "Where'd you go? You missed lunch."
"What does it matter to you? You wouldn't care. Besides, you're rooting for Gyffindor anyway," he said coolly.
Finally, she looked up. "Oh, Quidditch. Well, there's something you should know, then. I happen to think that you're a much better Seeker than Harry."
"Really?" he smirked.
"Yeah, you seem to know what you're doing better than he does. The only thing going in his favor is his Firebolt. He's got more speed than he does talent."
"So, you're saying I have talent?"
"Yeah, of course you do. You're the most talented Seeker-probably the most talented Quidditch player in the school."
"Thanks, Granger."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. It was the first real smile she's ever seen him wear.
"I'm so sorry." He really was, that wasn't part of any plan. He reached out to bring her to him, but she raced away to her room. "I have to do it," he thought, and ran down to the kitchens.
Once he got there, he walked over to one of the house elves and said, "I need a knife. A sharp one and fast."
"Sir, is you going to harm yourself, sir?" he piped up.
"NO! I just need to-well-never mind. I just need it, okay?"
The house elf brought the knife out to him. He ran back up to the common room, and into his dorm. He rolled up his left sleeve and placed the knife on his bare skin. Not caring if it would hurt, he dug the knife into his skin and began cutting the Dark Mark out of his arm.
Ten minutes later, it was gone, and his arm was bleeding like crazy. He grabbed his wand, and did a spell to re-grow the skin. Suddenly, the layers started to form and his arm looked just like it did before he received the Dark Mark. After his skin grew back, he did a cleaning spell to clean where all the blood was.
Not being the sympathetic type, Draco didn't exactly know what to say to Hermione, but decided to take a stab at it anyway. Slowly, and nervously, he made his way to Hermione's room. He knocked lightly, and when there was no answer, he knocked again.
"Go away!" came a small, quivering voice.
"No. Let me in, Granger."
"Why? So you can do what you always do, call me a stupid, pathetic Mudblood, and make me feel like shit?"
"No, I wanna help you," he said quietly.
"I don't want your help Ferret Boy! What would you know about sympathy? You're a rich, stuck-up, pure-blood, snob! I don't need or want your help, so leave me the fuck alone!"
"Listen, Granger, I don't care what you think, but I can help you. I know what you're going through I've lost people who were close to me. Right now, you need a friend, and I'm willing to be your shoulder to cry on, but if you don't want me to be there, then fine I won't be. Don't be begging for me to help you later! I probably won't!"
He stalked off to his room, and thought, "I'll be there whenever she needs me. She's one girl I'll always be willing to help out."
That night, he didn't sleep well. Partly because if he had stayed home, he might have helped with those murders.
By the time he woke up, he was feeling a little more refreshed, but really wanted to take a shower. He opened the door to the bathroom, and sitting there in the tub, with bubbles surrounding her was Hermione.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she screeched, putting her arms over her already covered chest. "Are you spying on me, you sick, perverted asshole?!"
He closed his door than said through it, "No, Granger, I'm not, I just wanted to take a shower."
"Well, next time knock, Ferret Boy. There's someone else who has to use this bathroom now."
"Well, Mudblood, firstly, I don't take orders, especially not from you. Second, I do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want and you can't stop me from doing so."
After saying that, he immediately regretted it. "Asshole!" he silently cursed himself, but the remainder of his thoughts were cut off by her sobs.
"Look, Granger, I didn't really mean that. It just kinda slipped, you know outta habit. I really don't wanna be like this anymore, but I'm really gunna need your help. Okay?"
More sobs, then, "You will never change, Malfoy. You will always just be the same pick ass mother fucker that I met in my first year here!"
"Granger, look I can help you, and you can help me. Won't you just open your eyes and look around?"
There was silence through the door. She was obviously thinking long and hard about her response. After a long minute, she answered, "I'll be polite to you for the rest of this year, but only because we'll be spending a lot of time together for the rest of the year. I promise not to curse at you or call you Ferret Boy, as long as you don't call me Mudblood. Agreed?"
"Yes, now can I please take a shower? I feel so dirty," he begged her.
"Alright, but you don't look at me in the bath, and I don't look at you in the shower. K?"
Draco grabbed what he needed for the shower and went into the bathroom. He walked right into the shower without even stealing a glance at Hermione, just as he promised.
Once he was in the shower, he took off his robe and hung it outside the stall and turned on the water.
"This isn't always gunna happen like this, you know?" he yelled over the running water.
"What's not?" she asked
"You're not always getting the bath. I gotta relax sometimes too."
"Oh yeah? Well, that's not what I was thinking, Mr. Malfoy. I was thinking that it was gunna happen like this every morning. I'm gunna wake up before you have a chance to claim the bath, then make you beg to use the shower."
"Well, Ms Granger that just doesn't sound fair on my end. I think I should make you beg for the use of the shower." Draco was just about finished with his shower. It never took him more than ten minutes to feel totally refreshed.
"And why would you do that," she asked.
"Oh, just for my own sick, twisted pleasure. He smirked that famous smirk, wrapped a black towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower.
Hermione was about to say something, but when he came out, she totally forgot what they were talking about. All she could do was stare at Draco and think about how damn sexy he looked just then.
"What's the matter, Granger? You like what you see?"
"Well-uh no-umm-I-I-well-I-yeah."
His smirk became wider and he shook his head. "Watch your bubbles, Granger. You wouldn't want to-expose anything, now would you?"
She began fixing the bubbles even though they hadn't even moved, then glared at him as he went into his room.
Draco put on just boxers, and a pair of long, black shorts. He didn't bother with socks or a shirt. It was just too damn hot in his opinion. His mind was still in a mix while he began fixing his hair. "Why was she looking at me like that? Could she possibly like me too? What if she does? Should I ask her out? No way, asshole, she'll never feel the same way about you. Don't even bother."
He walked into the bathroom to hand up his towel. Hermione was standing there in her Gyffindor robe with her back to him. She was drying her hair. When she heard the door open, she turned around to face him. Obviously, Draco hadn't meant to intrude on anything, but he just stood there watching her. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, and he felt energy such as he had never felt before. He felt that he could have just stood there all day staring into her deep, brown eyes. It was Hermione who broke the contact. Blushing furiously, she turned away into her room.
"That was odd," he thought hanging up his towel. "I gotta go write."
** I don't know what's going on. I'm sitting in the common room reading, when Hermione turns up saying that Voldemort killed her parents. So I start thinking, what if I was there, I would've helped. I started to feel guilty and cut the Dark Mark out if my arm. I repaired it to make it appear that nothing was never there. If Voldemort finds out, I'm done for. He'll kill me without a second thought. Hermione decided that she doesn't want to fight with me, so I willingly agreed with her. We actually mad eye contact this morning. I just stood there, looking into her big, beautiful eyes. I didn't move to do anything else. It was like there was some invisible fore holding me back. I was frozen there, like a zombie or something. I got to start sorting things out before they get bad. **
When he hid his journal, he yelled, "Granger!"
"What?" came the muffled reply from her room.
"I'm going down to breakfast, wanna come?"
"Yeah. Just gimme five minutes. K?"
"Sure."
Draco sat waiting for her in the common room, his thoughts still running rampant. "Just because I like her doesn't mean I hafta befriend Potthead and Weasel, right? Or would she make us get along? Or will they start fighting? Or will she totally ignore me when they get here? Or is she going out with one of them already? No, I think she mighta said something already, maybe. Maybe she likes me, I mean the way she was looking at me before. What if she's just trying to get over her parents, then what do I do?"
He didn't have anymore time to think because she came down and was standing right in front of him. "Ready?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh yeah." He suddenly remembered, "Hold on. Accio!" A shirt, socks, and shoes came flying down to him.
"Now, why didn't you do that while you were waiting?" she questioned impatiently.
"Um-well-I was-uh-busy thinking," he muttered as he finished dressing. Not waiting for a response, he headed out the portrait.
"Ok," she answered.
They walked silently down t breakfast, each thinking about the other. When they walked into the Great Hall, Dumbledore greeted him warmly. "Hello Ms Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Nice of you to join us. Today, after breakfast, I would like you to come with me to my office. Since you are both here early, we might as well get down to business early."
Draco looked at Hermione as she sat down next to him. She looked back, but didn't say anything, just nodded to Dumbledore, and said, "Okay."
Dumbledore spoke again, but all he said was, "Let's eat!" The breakfast appeared on the table, and they all began to eat. Not much talking went on, just a long awkward silence all around.
Once everyone had finished, Dumbledore beckoned Hermione and Draco to follow him into his office. More silence followed. Finally, Hermione spoke up, "Why are we needed more than ever this year than ever before, Professor?"
"Ah, you will find out soon enough. Lemon Meringue Pie." They had reached the gargoyle and were now ascending the spiral staircase.
Draco looked around and saw Fawkes sitting on his perch, looking young and beautiful. Nothing had changed since the previous year, when he was in there because of death threats from his father. Some of these threats came near to reality and Draco was forced to become a Death Eater.
"Sit please," said Dumbledore. "We are here to discuss some of the important duties you will be taking on this year as Head Boy and Girl. You are expected to be model students, someone that the younger students will look up to. You are also going to plan the Halloween, Christmas, and Valentines dances. You will be expected to check the halls to make sure no one is where they're not supposed to be; out after hours, and such." His bright smile turned quickly into a frown and the twinkle left his eye. Both Draco and Hermione knew what he said next would be very serious. "This year, you will also have another job that no Head Student has ever had. You are the brightest students this school as seen in a number of years. We, myself and the staff, feel that you are up to the task. It will be your job to take down Voldemort."
All of a sudden Draco looked very shocked, and Hermione was gaping. "How- we-he has power-uh-he'll kill us," Hermione stumbled.
"Hermione, we are going to train you in how to defend yourselves against him. By the time you fight him, you will be well trained. Why don't you go up to the common room? I must talk to Draco in private for a while."
She nodded her head and headed back still shaking.
He turned to Draco and said, "I know about you being in a league with Voldemort, but we really need you turn. You and Hermione are our only hope."
"Professor," Draco started. "There's something you don't know."
Dumbledore looked confused. Draco turned his left arm over and showed him his Dark Mark free arm. "Well, Draco, I have to say, I am impressed. Your father, does he know?"
"I can't tell him and I don't wanna tell Granger that I was a Death Eater for a greater part of the summer. It'd kill her. And if my father knew I took the Dark Mark off, he'd kill me."
Dumbledore pondered his answer for a moment before answering. "You don't have to make your choice now, but you might eventually want to release your secret."
"I'll think about it, Professor," Draco said as he left.
"Yeah right," he thought once he was in the hall. "I'm never telling them, they'd kill me. I wanna stay as far away from my father as possible, and I want Hermione to trust me. She'll never trust me if she knew I was a Death Eater."
"Darkness is Forever." He reached the common room and saw Hermione on the couch looking very upset.
"What's wrong, Granger?"
"We'll never be able to do this, You-Know-Who is much too powerful. Two seventeen year olds aren't going to bring down the most powerful wizard of the age."
"Yeah, but we're some of the smartest wizards of our time. We'll be able to kill him. Think about it, you're the smartest in the school, and I'm a close second, we can do it. Plus, I learned some dark magic from my father. We're unstoppable, Granger, think about it. He won't kill us, trust me. He's not after us."
"Yeah, but to him I'm just a lowly Mudblood. I'm the people he kills. He wants me dead."
"Not you, its Potter, Potter is who he wants. He's not gunna kill you, but we're gunna have to save Potter, for your sake."
"You-a Malfoy is gunna save Harry Potter? HA I laugh!"
"I'll do it for your sake, but I won't do it alone. I need your help. Are you gunna help to save your Precious Potthead, or are you gunna lay back and let him die? If it wasn't for him being your best friend, I'd let him die, hell, I'd hand him over, but since he means that much to you, I'll save him. Now, Granger, are you gunna help or not?"
"I'll help you, Malfoy. But I gotta know something. How come you're being so nice to me? Why aren't you being like you usually are?"
"Well," he contemplated his answer. "We have to live together all year, I just thought we might not want to be at each other's throats. We should try and get along."
"You know, Malfoy, I don't really hate you. I do see something else besides coldness when I look into your eyes. You're not all bad-ass as you first appear."
"And how long did it take you to see that?"
"Almost seven years," she blushed and turned away. "I thought you were a real asshole up until this morning."
"Well, thanks, most people never see that there's more to me than hate. I think you're the second person to figure that out."
"Really? Who's the first?" she questioned.
"Dumbledore," he answered calmly. "That man knows the real me. He knows most of my life."
"Is that a good thing? I mean is it good to have someone know so much about you?" she was expecting him to go crazy on her, but he remained calm.
"Having Dumbledore knowing is definitely a good thing. No one else would understand."
"What about me?"
"Maybe I'll tell you some other time. I just can't tell you right now. I gotta go to my room. I have some work to do."
Hermione stared after him, not really sure of what to do. She figured it best to let him go without saying anything.
"I have to tell her," he thought once he was in his room. "She has to know. I should write to Cephius, he'll know what to do."
Cephius was a friend of Draco's, who lived in the U.S. They had met at a wizard convention in France two years earlier. They instantly became friends, even though Cephius wasn't into the Dark Arts, there was something Draco had liked about him. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and began:
Hey Cephius, Sorry I haven't written in a while, but you Know about the whole thing with my father and You-Know-Who. How are things in the states? I'm not doing so great over hear. You know about that muggle girl who I told You about who I'm like totally in love with? Well, It turns out that she's Head Girl and I'm Head Boy. We're sharing a living quarters for the whole Year. Remember when I told you at the beginning Of the summer when my dad made me become a
Death Eater? Well, I cut the Dark Mark out of My arm because I hate that guy. Dumbledore reckons I should tell Hermione The truth, but I can't. She might not trust me, And I want her to be able to trust me. What do You think I should do? I'm so scared of what She might say or do to me. Please help me.
Thanks, Draco "That should do it," he thought. He called his owl, tied the letter around his leg, then sent it off. Laying down on his bed, he looked up at the canopy and closed his eyes. The first image that popped into his mind was of Hermione.
There was still a while before lunch and he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He grabbed his Nimbus Two Thousand and One and hurried off to the Quidditch field. Once he got there, he kicked off the ground and soared high into the air. The wind was blowing against his face and blowing through his hair. He could hear it whistling in his ears. This is where he belonged, and he knew it.
After flying around for a little while, he began diving and practicing move he'd seen professional Quidditch Seekers use. "I'm going to lead Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup this year. There's no way Potter will beat me, not this year!" He was determined to beat Harry Potter in his final year at Hogwarts.
At about one, Draco got tired and headed back up to the common room. When he arrived, Hermione was reading on the couch. Without looking up, she asked, "Where'd you go? You missed lunch."
"What does it matter to you? You wouldn't care. Besides, you're rooting for Gyffindor anyway," he said coolly.
Finally, she looked up. "Oh, Quidditch. Well, there's something you should know, then. I happen to think that you're a much better Seeker than Harry."
"Really?" he smirked.
"Yeah, you seem to know what you're doing better than he does. The only thing going in his favor is his Firebolt. He's got more speed than he does talent."
"So, you're saying I have talent?"
"Yeah, of course you do. You're the most talented Seeker-probably the most talented Quidditch player in the school."
"Thanks, Granger."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. It was the first real smile she's ever seen him wear.