Unpleasant Revelation

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them.

A/N: 80 reviews! Thanks go to: The Elfin Child, KAOS, Sanaria, Dragonsbane, JAMTillDawn, Katrina, heavengurl889, Amo il ragazzo, Queen Li (x2), Rebecca, Akira Gown, hyper_shark, Draco Lover, angkat14, Green Tea, C, Fairie Dust, starlight, Purple People Eater, danapotter (x2), Crazed, Blizzard, M-chan, mutsumi, Erica Evans, aliveforever83, The Dragon Guardian Of The Sea, somebody, Bobbi, JoeBob1379 (x2), gee, Aniron, MoonDancerCat (x2), dracoNmione, Dragonsbane, Ce, Riar Aille, anon, Xtreme Nusiance (x2), Wind Elf, and Vanillastar!

C – I'm sorry I didn't reply to you the first time you asked, I was in a rush to get the chapter out. I actually don't read that much fanfiction any more (No time!) so I'm afraid I don't know the one you meant… I tried looking it up when you mentioned it, but couldn't find it. Would you give me the author's name? I would never knowingly plagiarise someone else's work. When you create something you put a bit of yourself into it, and taking that idea is like taking a part of someone else – it's immoral.

Thanks to everyone else for their encouragement (and anger!)

~*~

Hermione's sleep was not so easy. Hours later, she lay awake, staring at the dawn's light as it traced patterns on the ceiling and wondering at how quickly fear could turn to boredom.

There was nothing to do in the dungeon. She had lain awake for an age, not remotely tired, thinking. After formulating a dozen escape plans, each more hopeless than the last, she turned her thoughts to other things.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy shift uncomfortably. There was something to wonder about. Why was he locked in his own dungeon? Why was he acting so strangely? He hadn't called her names or been rude to her, and – now she thought about it – he had called her Hermione. The more she thought about it, she more she felt there was no answer. It was perplexing.

She glanced towards the tiny, high-up hole with bars on that served as a window. Harry and Ron had saved her last time this happened. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory of the risk they had taken – coming alone to Malfoy Manor, flying her out unconscious on a broomstick… Harry had dropped her, she had been told. Who had caught her? She frowned – she ought to remember. Then again, she hadn't been in the most coherent state the next morning, exhausted as she was from Death Eater torture. It must have been Ron, she decided. She could remember the boys telling her what had happened, but some parts were mysteriously blurs.

Hermione didn't want them to rescue her. It was too dangerous, if they were caught. Lucius Malfoy had tortured… someone… in mid flight. What if something like that happened again?

And yet she did want them to come. She wanted to be safe, wanted to be away from here, wanted to be back at Hogwarts and studying hard. It worried her – was she selfish, to want her friends to rescue her even though they would be in mortal danger? No, it was a natural thing to want to be safe. And she wouldn't want them to come.

If Harry and Ron found out, they would certainly try to rescue her. And they would find out where she was, sooner or later – they'd come on just a suspicion! It made her determined to get out before her friends could put their lives at risk. She wouldn't let them be hurt on her account.

Resolved to do something, Hermione sank into a determined doze. She wasn't given more than half an hour of sleep before a high-pitched voice disturbed her.

'Poor Master Draco,' the voice was saying. There was a clink, and a sigh. 'Ditty knows that Master Lucius is…' here the voice paused, drawing breath,  'a nasty nasty man! Ditty is sorry for you, but she doesn't say, because you think house elves is inferior, and you wouldn't like for Ditty to feel sorry.' The voice paused, and Hermione in her sleepy state was vaguely irritated at the break in chatter. The voice had a nice sound, high but almost tuneful, and she liked hearing it.

'And now, Ditty feels even more sorry.' There was a further sigh, and a faint sniff. Fully awoken, Hermione opened bleary eyes to see a house elf, facing away from her, towards Malfoy. Her head was bent a little, and she seemed to genuinely mean what she had said – she did feel sorry.

Curiosity overtook Hermione, and she sat up in bed. 'Erm… excuse me…' she began. The elf whirled around. The first thing Hermione noticed about her face was her two blue eyes, wide with fright.

'You is awake!' she squeaked. 'Ditty is very sorry, she is not knowing you is awake…'

'It's alright.' Hermione reassured her. 'I only just woke up anyway.'

Ditty bent down to the floor, where two bowls of a watery-looking soup sat. 'Ditty has food for Miss Hermione and Master Draco.' She picked up one of the plates, and offered it to her hopefully.

'Thank you.' Hermione said, taking the bowl. Ditty blinked a few times, wide-eyed, and smiled with a small sniff.

'Are you alright?' asked Hermione concernedly, which only caused the little elf to sniff more. 'Yes, Miss Hermione. It is just… Ditty is not used to people being polite.' She paused, dabbing her nose with one corner of the sheet she wore, before continuing. 'Ditty's family are very mean, Miss Hermione.

Hermione sipped her soup cautiously. It tasted, surprisingly, very good. Lucius obviously didn't intervene much in the prison menu. 'Are you the Malfoy's new house elf?' she asked curiously. 'How did you come to work for them?'

Ditty's bat-like ears drooped, and she gave a small choking sob.

'Don't tell me if you don't want to.' Hermione said quickly.

'No, Ditty…' She paused, wiping her eyes hard with her sheet, before continuing in a choked voice. 'Ditty's mistress was a very good witch, she was friends with Dumbledore.' Her voice sounded semi-reverent as she spoke of Dumbledore. 'But Master Lucius killed Ditty's mistress… Master Lucius made Ditty come and work for him.' Her ears drooped further, and she gave an almighty sniff.

'Oh you poor thing…' said Hermione, digging in a pocket for a handkerchief. Was there no end to Lucius' evil? 'Here.' she said, handing her a reasonably clean square of fabric.

The elf smiled gratefully. 'Thank you, Miss Hermione.' She blew her nose on it hard. 'Ditty hates Master Lucius, he is a very very bad dark wizard… and very mean to Master Draco. The things Ditty has seen and heard! Miss Hermione would not believe Ditty, Miss Hermione would think Ditty was lying and make her slam her fingers in the door hinge…'

'I wouldn't!' Hermione jumped in, sounding both indignant and trying to be reassuring. Ditty sniffed again.

Hermione watched her sorrowfully. Poor thing… locked up with the Malfoys. It was bad enough being kidnapped for a few days. Being their slave for your whole life… it must be terrible. She was brave to even speak out at all about them… but…  

'How can you say bad things about the Malfoys?' Hermione asked in puzzlement. 'All the other elves I met kept hitting themselves if they said anything bad about their masters…'

Ditty beamed suddenly. 'Ah… but Ditty has been practicing.' she proclaimed proudly. 'Every night Ditty says ten horrible things about Master Lucius. It was hard – Ditty had bruises for weeks at first. But now I can say anything I want.' She grinned even wider. 'Ditty can say that… Master Lucius is a horrible, cruel idiot with dust for brains and the charisma of a toad.'

Hermione laughed. 'You have been practicing. You're almost as good as…' She stopped suddenly, frowning. Now where had that name come from?

'As who?' asked Ditty inquisitively

'No one…'

'Was Miss about to say… Draco Malfoy?' ventured Ditty.

'How did you know?' asked Hermione in surprise. Even she couldn't tell why his name had suddenly jumped into her head as an example… true, he insulted her frequently, but not particularly humorously. More like spitefully.

Ditty sniffed sadly again. Hermione reflected that she didn't seem to stay in the same mood for more than half a minute. 'Ditty is very sad…' she began. 'Ditty always was sorry for Master Draco because Master Lucius is so horrible to him. She was very happy when she found out that…'

Ditty stopped suddenly. 'That what?' prompted Hermione. But the elf shook her head. She looked over to where Malfoy slept on the rough bed.

'Ditty will not say.' she muttered quietly. 'It is Master Draco's business. He will tell you when he wants to.' She gave another sniff, and wiped her nose on Hermione's handkerchief.

'I thought you could say anything you wanted about the Malfoys?'

'Ditty can.' She nodded, her eyes wide and shining. The vivid blue tone seemed the only bright or colourful thing in the whole cell. 'But Ditty doesn't want to say.'

There was a momentary silence, broken by a squeal. 'Ditty must be in the kitchen! Tea will burn, and Ditty will get such a punishment!' She seemed genuinely frightened, and Hermione tried to calm her.

'Go quickly, you can still stop it burning…'

The elf ran towards the door, pausing after she shut the barred door on them. 'Ditty will come back later, miss, with dinner. Will miss talk to her again?'

'Of course.' Hermione smiled as the little elf ran off. The poor elf! Locked into slavery… When she escaped, she would have to try and free her. Maybe it would be foolish, but she had to try. She was a sweet elf, she didn't deserve to be slave to the Malfoys… no one did.

Her mind, however, kept being drawn back to the question: What was it Ditty hadn't wanted to tell her? Why did she feel so sorry for Malfoy? Why had his name sprung to mind?

Malfoy was a mystery – unanswerable. Yet she had the feeling that the answer was as plain and obvious as the simplest Arithmancy problem… if only she could remember!

She fell back into her doze still trying to puzzle out what was so strange, and when she woke again the sunlight that poured reluctantly into the cell was the rich yellow of late afternoon. She blinked, bringing the sunshine into focus and watching it play gently on the ceiling.

A movement caught her eye, and she glanced towards Malfoy. He was sitting upright in bed, his knees bent to his chest in a manner that somehow made him look young, small and vulnerable, although Hermione knew he could never be so. One arm was wrapped around his knee, while the other held the soup bowl. He took an uncaring sip from time to time, seeming not to taste the food or care that it was cold. He stared broodingly at nothing in particular.

Hermione stares fixedly at the ceiling, trying to ignore him. It was bad enough she had to suffer his presence – she wasn't going to speak to him as well.

But he was hard to ignore. He didn't do anything distracting, make any noise or attempt to talk to her, but he has a mysterious quality that attracted her attention like a moth to the proverbial candle flame. Hermione adored solving puzzles. Researching to find the answers to obscure questions, calculations in Arithmancy, dissecting Voldemort's plans to try and protect Harry from painful and bloody death… she was happiest when her mind was untangling the knots on a problem.

Malfoy struck her as a huge problem. What was going on? Why was he acting so strangely? It didn't make sense. There was no logical explanation.

Her mind seemed to continuously know what he was doing, listening and watching intently from the corner of her eye. She tried to stop paying attention, but her subconscious tracked him constantly. If she went on much longer it would drive her mad.

            She tried to choose between madness and asking Malfoy what was going on. Neither were particularly attractive choices… but if it could help her solve the problem, she would try anything.

            'What's going on?' she asked abruptly. She startled herself with her snappish voice – she hadn't expected to sound so exasperated.

            Malfoy didn't look surprised – maybe he'd known she was awake? He turned to look at her. His face was emotionless but not blank – there was something indefinable there.

'What do you mean?' he replied in a disturbingly quiet voice. The malice was gone – Hermione was not sure whether to treat it with suspicion or not.

'You're acting strangely, and don't deny it, because a three year old could tell. Why?'

'Why do you want to know?' He countered.

Hermione sighed. 'Because I can't let a problem go once I've started, and I really can't think of any logical reason why you're acting this way.'

She wasn't sure, but he might have given a half-smile. 'Imagine what would happen if we had to work together on a school project.'

'We'd kill each other.' Hermione stated simply.

'Well we didn't. We got on quite well, after a few initial… disagreements.'

Hermione stared at him in confusion. He leant against the wall, staring at the ceiling, and his face was deadly serious.

'What on earth are you talking about?'

He glanced at her briefly – his eyes full of conflict – before wearily closing his eyes. He looked defeated.

'You don't remember this, and I don't know why I'm telling you.' he began. His face was unnaturally pale, almost glowing in the darkness. 'You won't believe me.' he said with perfect conviction, a statement of fact rather than a pessimistic view. 'We were paired for a project in Ancient Runes, months ago. We had to spend ages together translating a book. I suppose… you made me change my mind about a few things, and we… we fell in love.

~*~

And anyone who's expecting Hermione to suddenly remember and throw her arms around him had better think again – that's far too easy! They will get back together, but it won't be that simple…

Yes, Draco is a little OOC, but all will be explained in later chapters.

Review, or be turned into one of the Malfoy's house elves…