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Part Four

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Draco padded around his house until he felt able to go back to sleep. He didn't want to lie down only to feel the weight of Hermione's absence. This is so stupid! He raged at himself, How can you miss her when she's never even been here in the first place? He stormed into his back yard to look at the stars, a last ditch effort to calm down.

It didn't help. In this hour, where he seemed to be alone in the universe, Draco had to admit that something had catalyzed in him when Hermione said that she'd forgiven him. It had been waiting there, for just the right expression to cross her face. Now that it had, the feelings welled up in him, and he couldn't push them back anymore.

For so long he had hated Potter, Weasly and Granger. It had been the staple food of his emotional diet, the loathing that he held for everything they were and did. Now though...

Potter was his best friend. And Hermione...

Draco knew that he had always felt more strongly than he should where Hermione was concerned. The hate he had harbored for her, the knife of loathing that he had sharpened on her every word, look and gesture, had stemmed from something else. First it had been jealousy, that she was Potter's friend while Draco himself had been rebuffed. Angry that she somehow met Potter's standards while he didn't. Then it had been because she became such a central figure in his life. Just by being there, she had managed to be one third of all of his thoughts. Then it was more like one half as it became apparent that, if Draco managed to remove Granger from the trio, Potter and Weasly wouldn't have gotten away with so much.

When the hate a become driven because it was the closest thing to sheer scope of emotion that he felt every time he looked at her, Draco didn't know. He just knew that there was only one other emotion that was as powerful as hate, and she was a Mudblood which made it impossible.

Can't even think the word, Draco thought bitterly, Daddy trained me too well.

He stormed back into the house, knowing that sleep would not be possible again tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione didn't know what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but Draco was in a foul mood. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of an expression she was familiar with him having on his face. She wisely didn't try to say 'hello' until he seemed to calm down. She didn't understand though. He had been graciousness itself as they bought ice-cream together after work. He had spoken to her like she was a human being. It had been such a vast improvement over his past behavior that she really wasn't surprised to see the other shoe drop. She smiled sadly as his office door shut with a bang, and walked to her own temporary location down the hall.

Sitting at her desk, she pulled out the yearbook from their seventh year. It traveled everywhere with her, for those moments when she really needed to see a friendly face. This was not one of those times. She opened to book and quickly located Draco Malfoy's knowing smirk as he looked up at her from the page.

"Insufferable git." She said to the picture, and smiled as he just raised a mocking eyebrow at her. This was the Draco that she knew how to deal with, not the confusing creature down the hall, and in her thoughts.

Yesterday, she had gotten close enough to notice that he didn't bother with cologne anymore. It startled her, mostly because he used to not leave the Slytherin dorms unless he was soaked in the stuff... always expensive of course. Now, she had been unconsciously waiting for that whiff of wealth that always seemed to follow him, and it hadn't been there. Just Draco and laundry soap.

She had just about told him what an improvement that was, when she realized what it would imply. They had eaten their ice-cream, and talked about every unimportant thing they could think of. She had seen him smile at the story of her trip on a camel caravan in Egypt. His smile was beautiful and painfully human, unlike the sneer she was used to. It made her wonder about the Draco from school. Had that really been him? Or just the puppet that Voldemort wanted?

She didn't know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

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That night, the nightmares came. Draco knew that he was dreaming, but couldn't seem to pull himself awake. The deadly fascination had carried into the dreams.

His initiation.

He had never seen the Death Eaters before. He had only listened to the stories his father told him, had soaked up every word of them for as long as he could remember. This is not how he had pictured those tales of unlimited power.

Power. How he wanted it! To be powerful, to crush those that stood against him. To be better than Potter and his muggle-loving ways. His body screamed for power, in a way that no desire had ever gripped him before. Sex, money, adoration. They were nothing compared to this need burning in his veins. And at seventeen, he had tasted all he cared to of those lesser pleasures.

The Dark Lord stood before him, promising to give him all that he asked for. Draco's skin tingled with the promise, he was ready to give anything in order to taste the power. That scaly, dead hand reached for his arm, and Draco felt the build start within him. That moment when, if he had been with a woman, he would have taken her harder, reaching for climax. This was different, and Draco felt that it would be better than even the best one-night stand imaginable.

As Draco's eyes slit, and the pleasure built, he saw his father out of the corner of his eye. Lucious Malfoy was on his knees, bent in worship behind the Dark Lord. Totally prostrate, his nose to the dirt. Lucious Malfoy, who had told him of the Dark Lord's promises, and rewards. Lucious Malfoy who claimed to have been given this unlimited power that he spoke of. Lucious Malfoy, who didn't dare look up until the Dark Lord said so.

The pleasure died, and Draco sprinted away, catching even the powerful Lord Voldemort completely off-guard. The Death Eaters howled at him to stop, and he dodged curses as he ran. Turning a corner into the thicker forest, he dared to look back. Lucious Malfoy was still kneeling, his nose to the dirt.

~*~

Draco woke with a gasp, feeling like he had been drowning. It wasn't an uncommon reaction to that dream, but he had grown to hate the choking, breathless feeling. He sprawled, boneless across his bed, breathing deeply, as his heart slowed and his mind calmed.

Perfect ending to a perfect day. He closed his eyes in defeat.