Disbelief

Disclaimer: Don't own them. J.K.Rowling does. Lucky her.

A/N: Thanks for 129 reviews goes to: Queen Li, dracoNmione, KAOS, aliveforever83, Wind Elf, Jen Drake, f0xyness39, Dragonsbane, Corundum Advance, Akira Gown, Arial, The Dragon Guardian Of The Sea, Amo il ragazzo, meggiebaby81, AideeEight, dixiedogbud, blacknight, Draco Lover, mutsumi, ~* paper star *~ , Rebecca, heavengurl899, MoonDancerCat, Aniron, JoeBob1379, mya14(x3), ckret2, danapotter, Jockaroo, anon, hyper_shark, dragon eyes (x2), Xtreme Nuisance, angkat14, uRban-AngEL, JAMTillDawn, Libertas, KeeperOfTheMoon(x3), Jennifer, romasi, kei-chan, rubberducks!

 This chapter is slightly longer than normal… 2 pages longer. Consider it a very early Xmas present! Actually, I got carried away again. But you aren't complaining!

To answer questions: I don't know how long this is going to be (I only finalised the plot this week, and have still to slot it into chapters!) but it looks like being long. I adored the film, it was loads better than the first… the acting was better, especially the children's. I'll review people's fics if I have time, but I'm really busy what with school and writing…

Does anyone here read Cassandra Claire's fics? If you don't, go to www.schnoogle.com and look her up! She's really amazing *bows before the superior writer*. To those who have read it – there's a new chapter of Draco Veritas, chapter eleven, which was up yesterday – me and my friends were the first people on there! If you've read that chapter, all I can say is 'THAT was unexpected!'

But for now, I'll leave you to enjoy my fic.

~*~

Hermione stared at Draco like he'd gone insane. From her point of view, he very probably had.

'Malfoy,' she began, 'you've kidnapped me, locked me in your dungeons, and you really expect me to believe you when you give me some made-up story and say that we fell in love? That's worse than pathetic.'

He didn't react, just watched with clear eyes and a carefully blank expression. Except for the eyes. There was always something in his eyes, hiding just out of reach, and it was driving her mad.

'I knew you wouldn't believe me.' he said quietly.

For some reason, this simple phrase unnerved her. He was behaving too strangely… She tried to explain it away as just good acting, but something was wrong.

She stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed, before turning her face to the wall to sleep. She cursed herself for being unnerved. She knew it was just pretence, she shouldn't be fooled.

Right?

~*~

It was now that Draco couldn't sleep. He lay awake, staring into nothingness long after Hermione had fallen into a gentle slumber. He hoped it was as peaceful as it looked.

He should just try to forget about her. How could he ever get her back? 'When pigs fly' as the Muggle saying went. He had lived perfectly well without her for fifteen out of sixteen years. Couldn't he live without her now?

The problem was, he'd gotten used to having her around. He'd never before had someone he could talk to, someone he could tell things, who would listen and actually care. But Hermione cared. He'd been brought up to believe that having feelings and fears was wrong, made you weak. But when you told things to Hermione, they made you stronger. He hadn't told her everything – in fact, he hadn't told her much at all. But simply knowing he could…

Now he couldn't.

He should have made her turn back when he had the chance. He hadn't wanted her to come in the first place, he had known it was too dangerous for her to come… and yet she wanted to come. Gryffindor bravery – no, not just Gryffindor bravery. Hermione bravery.

~*~*~*~

The moon was full, which was both good and bad. Good, because it lit the Hogwarts driveway admirably; every stone stood out in clear relief, etched in a striking contrast of black and white. Bad, because it made the Forbidden Forest loom ominously to his left.

Draco had been irrationally nervous about going too near the Forbidden Forest ever since his first year, when he'd come across that… thing drinking unicorn blood. He hadn't found out until later that it was Voldemort. His father had told him, adding that 'the Dark Lord was disappointed by your lack of nerve' with that hard, calculating look that meant he would be punished later.

It was a strangely calm scene, for the beginning of a dangerous ordeal. The grass rippled in the wind, a well-clipped ocean. The trees had lost their leaves, which flew joyfully about, playing childish games of Tig in the breeze. The dry air lent a sense of crispness to the scene, heightening his senses.

The gates of Hogwarts, marking the boundary of the new wards that had been put up after the Triwizard Tournament, remained obstinately on the horizon, growing with every step. Step, step, step. He listened to the regular, steady pound as his feet hit the ground, underscored by the tense drumbeat of his heart. One-man band, he thought ironically.

Step, step, step. Thump, thump, thump. The steady beat continued ever on, occasionally added to when he walked through a crisp pile of leaves. And now the gates were closer.

Step, step, step. Crunch, as he walked through the papery leaves. He paused a moment, looking up at the gates, wondering why he didn't just turn back to school. For Hermione…

crunch

Draco spun around, instantly alert. 'Who's there?' He had heard something, he was sure… the light crunch of a foot that didn't want to be heard stepping in leaves. The thought he might have imagined it never crossed his mind. Malfoy's didn't hear things that weren't there…

He couldn't see whoever was following him. That meant they were using an Invisibility spell, or wearing an Invisibility Cloak. There was only one person in the school who owned one of them, and Draco couldn't imagine Harry following him. Or Ron, for that matter. Since there was only one person he knew who could probably cast the complex Invisibility spell, and she also happened to be Harry's other friend…

'Hermione, show yourself.'

She pulled the Cloak off her head, frowning. The moonlight caught her face, creating a symphony of light and shadow that was more exquisite than the most praised of any artist's work. 'How did you know it was me?'

'Elementary, my dear Hermione.' he quipped, unable to resist it despite the imminent danger they were in. 'Why are you here?'

She looked at the floor, reminding Draco strongly of a misbehaving child confessing her wrongdoing to the teacher. 'When you got out your Potions essay, the letter fell out on the desk, and I read it…'

'You shouldn't have read it.' He folded his arms defensively. 'It's my personal letter, it could have been perfectly innocent…'

'Oh yes, because when I see a letter signed 'Lucius' at the bottom it's really going to be a nice friendly letter full of paternal warmth, isn't it?'

There was a silence. Hermione pulled the Invisibility Cloak further around her for the meagre warmth it offered, shivering as the wind tore at her with its fingers. A leaf whirled around her like a planet orbiting the nearest star.

'I'm coming with you.' she added.

'You are not.'

'I am.' She looked determined, her face set and unchangeable as rock.

'Did you actually read the part of the letter where my father said he was going to kill you?' Draco asked. He was afraid for Hermione, and fear made him angry. 'He can and will, trust me. I'm not letting my sadistical father anywhere near you. If you set foot near him you're dead. You're not going.'

'I'm not letting you go alone.' she stated. 'I don't care about your father. I'm coming whatever you say.'

A very small part of Draco's mind was almost touched by the fact that she would risk her own life to go with him. However, it was shoved hard to one side by the rest of his mind, which screamed that she was being idiotically reckless and suicidal.

'You're not coming.' he stated, then abruptly turned and ran towards the gates. If he could get outside them before she caught up with him, he could Portkey away, leaving her behind with no way to follow. He couldn't let her come, no matter how much she wanted to. He was running for her life, and he felt an insane glory as he broke away from her – almost as if he had foiled one of his father's plans.

Her footsteps pounded behind his, but demanding Quidditch practices had given him greater speed. The wind whipped his hair back from his face, his goal clear – the gate. He reached for the letter in one pocket, held it tightly. With every passing second, the gates grew closer, and the steady thud of Hermione's feet receded.

Suddenly, he heard a small scream from behind. He paused – just inside the wards, his hand on the letter, only one step necessary to transport him away. Hermione had slipped on a wet leaf, and was cannoning towards him like a graceless Bludger. Before he could move, she had fallen straight into him, knocking him over… through the gate, outside the wards. He felt the jerk that indicated Portkey travel, Hermione's arm still around his waist where she had grabbed him to stop her fall. He cursed her mentally with every word he knew. If she died tonight, it would be completely and entirely his fault

~*~*~*~

Hard to believe it had only been a few hours ago that she would have risked herself to protect him, in such an idiotic, reckless, irresponsible, senseless, foolish, rash, brave, kind and caring way. How had he lost so much in a matter of hours? Life didn't change like that, take sudden turns and tear the very fabric of your life from underfoot.

He spent an hour watching nothingness, trying in vain to think about something else. But his mind was always drawn irrevocably back to the strange and unfamiliar ache inside him, a gap that was supposed to be filled by Hermione's love. But the gap was empty, and through it rushed a never-ending stream of pain and loss.

It felt quite strange, as though there were two Dracos. One was caught in the torrent of loss, tossed and battered by the cruel waters. The other was sitting somewhere high up in his mind, without feeling or empathy, analysing and comprehending everything that went on.

An indeterminable length of time passed. It could have been mere minutes, or half a day. However long it was, it was long enough for the sun's tendrils to turn into filigree gold on the ceiling, broken into shards by the silhouettes of the trees outside.

There was a sudden sharp rasp as the door swung open, and Draco knew – without seeing – that it had awoken Hermione. He opened one eye, and recognised their house elf. What was its – her – name? Ditty?

'Ditty has brought a meal.' she squeaked. She carried two bowls of a suspiciously colourless soup. Hermione sat up, smiling.

'Thank you.' she said, taking a bowl. Draco recognised the pattern: these were the expensive bowls his mother had gotten from an old friend for a birthday, and thrown out because she couldn't stand the rose print on them. The friend in question hadn't been seen at the Manor since then. Narcissa was known for being very fickle where it came to presents.

Draco accepted his bowl with a nod. 'Thank you.' he said, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She stopped, mid sip, and stared at him over the rim of her bowl, before realising what she was doing and returning to her soup with a well-aimed glare.

Ditty was so unaccustomed to being thanked, especially by Malfoys, that she looked as though Christmas had come early. 'You are welcome.' she said, with a wide smile that most people would find endearing, but Draco found eerily creepy.

Wishing for a spoon, he took a cautious sip of the soup to discover it wasn't as bad as he first thought – not only did it smell of nothing, it also tasted of nothing. He finished it quickly, and set the bowl onto the floor.

There was silence in the cell, save for the graceful slurping as Hermione ate. She hated hurrying food. He had seen her a thousand times in the Great Hall, watching her from the other side of the room, eating slowly and tidily. The only times she had ever hurried were when she wanted to get to the library fast, or when she wanted to do work, or when she was planning to meet him after the meal…

'So, Ditty,' she began, 'how are you? Did the food burn?'

Ditty nodded sadly. 'Yes, Miss Hermione. Master Lucius was very angry with Ditty...' She lifted up a corner of her pillowcase to reveal a pair of oversized feet, covered with blisters and burns. Draco, having been on the receiving end of his father's anger more times than he liked to remember, couldn't help but feel sympathetic.

'Oh, you poor thing!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Do they hurt? If only I had my wand! I could heal them… How could Lucius do something like that! Oh, that… that…'

'They do not hurt too much, Miss…' began Ditty, attempting to reassure her and possibly cutting off some very violent swear words. 'Master Lucius is a very very cruel man…' Ditty's wide blue eyes glanced towards Draco, who leant against the wall, watching lethargically.

Hermione sighed. 'You're always so mysterious whenever it comes to Malfoy. Why won't you tell me?'

She was talking about him as if he wasn't there, and he still couldn't stop loving her. He wondered whether he would ever be able to, or if he would wander the world in this half-mad daze forever.

'It is Master Draco's business…' Draco found the elf's gaze uncomfortable. Maybe it was the wideness of the eyes – they seemed to stare at you, learning in that one gaze all your secrets, noting all the creases and dirty patches on your clothes…

'If this is the business about Lucius and the Memory Charm, I've already told her, and she doesn't believe me.' Draco stated. His old drawl crept back into his voice, which was a sure sign to anyone who knew him well that he was being defensive.

'Miss Hermione… does not believe it?' questioned Ditty.

'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Not this rubbish again! I'm not completely stupid, you know.'

'But surely Miss Hermione realises?' asked Ditty. 'Ditty has overheard Master Lucius talking… there will be gaps in your memory where important events are missing…'

'There aren't any gaps in my memory!'

'Who rescued you when Master Lucius kidnapped you for the first time? Who jumped in the way of the Killing Curse when Master Lucius tried to kill you?'

Hermione opened her mouth; shut it again with a puzzled expression. 'Ron and Harry rescued me…'

'But there was someone else too!' Ditty by now seemed almost ecstatic.

'You can't seriously expect me to believe this? Both those times I was tortured, I was under stress, I couldn't be expected to remember everything… there's a logical explanation for it all, and you're just trying to confuse me.'

Draco recognised the pattern of someone who is beginning to doubt their own argument, and a savage thrill of hope and fear jolted through him.

Hermione had decided to change tack. 'Did Lucius force you to lie like this?' she asked sympathetically. 'I know you can ignore it, you've been practicing, he doesn't have complete power over you… he hardly has any power over you at all!'

'Ditty is not lying, Miss Hermione, Ditty is telling the truth! And,' she went on, sobering, 'Master Lucius has a lot of power over me, being able to say things against him is a very little victory…'

It took Draco less than a glance to read the expression on Hermione's face: she was sympathetic, and truly sorry for the little elf. It struck him that Hermione was the only person whose face he had ever learnt to read. The concept of his father showing an emotion was laughable, he barely saw his mother, and none of the Slytherins trusted anyone.

Hermione was different. Everything she thought or felt flew across her face, unguarded, unhidden, like the proverbial open book. It was something fundamentally unlike anything Draco had known before, as though he had somehow found a path that led to another happier world.

But now, looking at her sympathetic face, it was almost painful. As if he had lost that path, lost the world it led to. And, he realised, he had.

'I hate Lucius.' Hermione said in a small voice. Her expression had changed again, and now she looked sad and pensive, her head bent and staring at no fixed point. 'I hate him because he's cruel to everyone. And I hate his dungeon, and I hate his house, and I hate his entire family, and I hate prejudice.'

She had spoken all this in a level tone. Ditty shook her head sadly.

'You didn't hate his whole family. You didn't hate Master Draco.' Ditty said sadly. It took Draco a moment to realise why she'd said that – he didn't think of himself as a part of Lucius' family anymore.

'I did.' Hermione stated tonelessly. She was thinking, only paying half her attention to the conversation. Draco had seen her like this before, when they'd been working together and suddenly he realised she wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying because she was completely lost in her work. Her brow furrowed. 'Why do you always call him Master?' she asked, indicating Draco.

'Master Lucius told me to treat Master Draco as though he were my master too.' Ditty said. 'That was a long time ago, before he fell… before Master Lucius was angry with him.'

Hermione nodded vaguely, lost and floating in thought. Draco always wondered what she was thinking of when she went like this. She looked so relaxed, not fully there, her senses suspended as she wandered through her mind…

And then suddenly, he saw the floating cease, a moment of perfect stillness – of inspiration. Her eyes glowed.

'If you have to treat him as your master,' she said, and Draco found the way she referred to him as though he wasn't there painful, 'doesn't that mean that if he gave you clothes, theoretically, you would be free?'

Ditty stared at her, wide eyed. 'It might…'

Two pairs of eyes turned towards Draco. 'Malfoy, take off a sock.' Hermione ordered, her voice as uncaring as steel, and he found himself missing her acutely. How could he miss someone who was in the same room as him? But it wasn't the same Hermione, it was a different side of her: the side of her that had never learnt to love him.

Acting as though he didn't care, he carefully unlaced his shoe and pulled off one slightly smelly sock, which he extended towards Ditty. The house elf reached for it with wide eyes and shaking hands. The instant she held it, clutched to her chest with both hands, she squealed, 'I'm free! I'm free!'

She pointed at the door, and it swung wide open.

~*~

A/N: Next Chapter – we finally get to see Harry and Ron! Plus love, hate, and escape.

I've noticed I get more reviews if I threaten people. Violence is the answer! So review, or my lovely hedgehog friend will find it's way into your armpit…