The Seventh Moon
Author: IcyFire
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sooner or later, light will shine upon even the darkest secrets, and when Hermione stumbles upon a terrible truth that was meant to be forever concealed, she is thrown into utter confusion and suddenly feels completely lost in the world around her. And when Draco Malfoy, who does not yet realize his own important part in fate, steps in and tempts her with an offer she can't refuse, Hermione is faced with the decision that will change her life and ultimately decide the fate of the wizarding world. Thousands of years ago, when the gods still roamed the earth and the legendary oracles wove intricate prophecies, fate had paved a path, and destiny had chosen her to walk it. Through it all, a powerful, burning love will arise. Can love really conquer all? Or will she succumb to her fate? This is the story of her plight to change destiny and follow the stirrings of her own heart.
A/N: Yeah, so this is chapter three and it's kind of dumb...but oh well!
Thanks to my reviewers: tainted black, "I Dunno," emeraldjjw, 'div, ..., shadowcat, and Michelle L. Bordeaux
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to believe that all of this is mine, unfortunately, it's not except the plot.
Hermione entered the densely packed Great Hall with her friend Lavender beside her and the two of them sat side by side at the Gryffindor table. As soon as their bottoms were seated in the chair, a bowl of porridge appeared in front of both of them along with a silver spoon. Both of them groaned - porridge again!
Hermione was just about ready to dig in when she heard Lavender emit a sad whimper. She saw that Lavender's eyes were not set on the bowl of porridge, but on something else. Quickly, Hermione turned and fixed her gaze upon what Lavender was staring at.
Draco Malfoy had just entered the Great Hall with his arm wrapped around a smug looking Pansy Parkinson. They were being so unbelievably touchy to each other that Hermione felt like throwing up.
"Lavender," she said, her tone full of warning, "don't look."
Lavender whimpered again and kept her gaze on the couple.
"Lavender, if you don't turn your head around this moment, I will do it for you."
The young brunette shook her head as a tear crept out from the corner of her eye. "Look at her! She's so beautiful! How can I compare to her?"
Hermione set her hand on Lavender's head and turned it the other way so that she could no longer stare at Draco and Pansy.
"How could I have thought that he'd want me when he had someone like her?" Lavender sniffed.
"Lavender, it's ok. You're much better than her anyway."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes you are. Pansy Parkinson is just a complete fake."
Lavender ignored everything she said. "Look at her! She's like a genuine Barbie doll!"
Hermione emitted a frustrated sigh. "Lavender, the only thing that Pansy Parkinson and a Barbie doll has got in common is that they're both made out of plastic."
Lavender looked unbelievingly at her friend. Hermione rolled her eyes, let out another enormous sigh and pointed at Pansy Parkinson.
"I mean how do you really think she got rid of that pug nose of hers?"
Lavender chose not to believe a word Hermione was saying. "Yeah right - you're just jealous - just like me."
"Why in the hell would I be jealous of her?" Hermione asked angrily, taking Lavender's comment as an insult.
"Because she's gorgeous!"
"Lavender, I'm not jealous of her and neither should you! Why would you be jealous of her? I mean, people like her have to hire someone to blow out the candles on their birthday cakes."
"Why?"
"Because if her face got too close to the flame, it'd melt."
Lavender ignored her yet again, and in the end, Hermione gave up - Lavender was just impossible.
It was hard to believe, but Hermione Granger was having a good day. She had almost been able to purge her memory of those ordeals she had suffered through the past few days and now sat smiling in the dungeons with her classmates, awaiting Professor Snape's entrance.
The mere thought of seeing Draco Malfoy with red hair caused her to emit a loud chuckle which hammered the silence of the dungeons, and she soon covered her mouth when she realized that many eyes were on her. For years Malfoy had teased Ron about his hair, and she couldn't wait to see how he would react to having the same flaming red hair color. It was going to be great - her biggest feat yet.
The sudden swish of a heavy cloak announced the professor's arrival and Hermione's eyes snapped to the front of the dungeon.
"I will be passing your tests back shortly," he said with a sneer, eyeing the whole class. "I was very disappointed in how low the marks were for this test."
The students glanced nervously around the dark dungeon, each hoping that his or her test didn't receive bad marks. Hermione, however, was confident that she did extremely well on the test. She had known almost every answer except for the bonus questions, which she made very educated guesses on.
"However," the professor began again, his thin lips twisting sinisterly, "I am elated to announce that Mr. Malfoy here received the highest score in the class - a one hundred and five percent."
Hermione couldn't see how Snape could ever be elated - in all her years at Hogwarts she had never seen him smile kindly. She also couldn't see how Draco Malfoy, the insolent bastard, could have done better on the test than she did. He never did better than her. No one did better than her. No one could do better than her. She was the smartest witch in Hogwarts and she failed to believe that anyone was smarter than she was.
The Slytherins cheered loudly for Malfoy while the Gryffindors sat as still as rocks. Apparently they also failed to believe how the twitching ferret could have received better marks than their own Hermione Granger.
Malfoy received his test back first and then the professor began to hand the test pamphlets back to each student in the classroom. Hermione wanted to see her score - she wanted to see - to have proof from her very own eyes that her score was lower than Malfoys. Finally, Professor Snape halted in front of her desk and cautiously set her test pamphlet down on her test - making sure that it was upside down.
Without hesitation, Hermione grabbed the pamphlet and flipped it around, eager to see her score. What met her eyes was truly horrifying and she sat stupefied for a long time before she could move or do anything. She thought that the darkness of the dungeons had fooled her eyes, so then she looked again, just to make sure. And sure enough, the same score was still there, printed in large red letters.
13%...Fail...
Her hands crumpled the test as she fought for self-control. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening to her. She had been so sure that she had done wonderfully on the test. How could she possibly have gotten such a low score? Had anyone in the history of Hogwarts ever gotten such a low score? She doubted it. Her embarrassment soon vanished and anger took its place as she settled upon a new theory.
She took the crumpled test back into her hands and smoothed it out. Looking over it carefully, she realized that her theory was right. This wasn't her test. Yes, so it did say Hermione Granger in the name column at the top, but the whole thing wasn't her handwriting. The writing on the test was an ugly scribble - she herself couldn't decipher it. Everyone knew that Hermione Granger had the best penmanship in the school. How could anyone in his right mind mistake this awful scribble for her neat writing?
Draco Malfoy. Those two words burned into her. He was the one who had done this. He was the one who had made it happen. And now, her marks were too low for her to ever to be able to redeem herself. Snape would never believe her - he hated all Gryffindors with a passion. In fact, he was probably in on this too!
She vowed to seek her revenge - she already had it planned and it would soon be carried out. She couldn't wait.
After all the tests were returned to their owners, Snape explained to the class that they would be brewing a firecracker potion for the rest of the class time. As usual, Hermione partnered up with Ron and Harry and the three set out to brewing the best potion in the class.
For this particular experiment, they were required to use a large school cauldron. The cauldron was black and old and stood over five feet high. Ron studied the instructions as Harry and Hermione prepared the ingredients. It was when Hermione was chopping the prenadatis roots when Harry began whispering to her.
"We've got it all planned out."
"What?" asked Hermione, a little loudly.
Harry shushed her and began to speak again. "We'll need to brew a sleeping potion."
"Why?" Hermione asked dumbly.
"How else are we going to dye Malfoy's hair? We'll need to knock him out for at least two hours - three or four preferably - just to be safe."
"Right," she said, realizing now what Harry was getting at.
"So you need to create a diversion while Ron and I sneak into Snape's private cupboards for ingredients."
Hermione stared strangely at him. "Harry, we don't need anything of his! The sleeping draught is simple to make - it requires only simple ingredients which we all have!"
"But that draught is not very strong and lasts only two hours at most. We need more time than that."
"You're right," said Hermione, pondering what she could do. "I'll try to disrupt Snape and you two can get the ingredients."
They became quiet again as Professor Snape approached the front of the class. "Now, I'm sure you're all finished with the preparations. Your next step is to appoint a group member to throw all the ingredients into the cauldron and stir it once. Then that person will need to glance quickly into it and see if the contents have turned a yellow color. If it is yellow, then you have done the procedure correctly. I must warn you that as soon as you throw in ingredients in, you will have approximately ten seconds before the fire cracker potion sets off. In those ten seconds you'll need to check the color of the potion - to see if it's the correct color - and hurry to the other side of the dungeon unless of course, you'd prefer to be blown up by the firecrackers. So, on the count of three, every group must throw their ingredients in."
"I'll do it," said Hermione, "and check the color. Harry, Ron, you guys go to the other side of the room and if you have a chance, get into Snape's cupboards."
Snape began his count. "One...two...three!"
Hermione tossed the basket of prepared ingredients into the cauldron and stirred the contents once with a large stick. As the cauldron was over five feet tall, she had to hoist herself up by the edges of the cauldron to be able to see into it clearly. Yes, it was yellow - they had done it right. And now, she had about five seconds left before the potion would blow to hurry to the other side of the room into safety.
She lowered herself and tried to make her way to the far side of the dungeons when her heart sunk. No, it couldn't be happening again. She couldn't remove her hands from the edges of the cauldron. They just wouldn't come off. She pulled and pulled until she thought that her bones would dislocate, but it did absolutely nothing. The glue was too strong and her hands were stuck firmly to the sides of the cauldron - and there was nothing she could do about it. The rising heat of the cauldron made her senses swim and her head was pounding furiously. Somewhere in the midst of it all, she could hear people yelling at her - but those were only faint noises. And then there was a very loud explosion, like a billion pots and pans banging together at the same time. And then there was silence.
Hermione thought for sure that she was dead, but when she opened her eyes she saw the cauldron in front of her and she was no longer attached to it. She was now lying on her back and her hands had a sticky feel to them. She realized that the heat of the explosion must have caused the glue to melt and sent her flying backward onto the hard concrete floor where she now laid.
All the energy had left her and she couldn't move a twitch. She closed her eyes again and waited until two strong arms lifted her from the ground and carried her away.
When she came to her senses, she found herself lying in the hospital wing. Her head still hurt and it took her eyes a bit a time before they could focus and take in the surroundings.
"She's awake!" came a voice and she saw that it had come from her best friend Ron.
She turned her head slowly and saw Harry at her side, holding her hand, and Ron rushing quickly to her side. Her vision was fuzzy and she blinked a couple of times to focus.
"How long have I been here?" she asked softly.
"Three hours. You really worried us." Harry's green eyes looked sincere. "When I carried you here, I thought you were dead already."
"Hermione, when Harry told you to make a big scene to create a diversion, he didn't mean to try to kill yourself!" Ron whispered harshly, but with care.
Her energy and vitality came back to her in a rush when she remembered exactly what had happened and the anger returned. "I didn't do it on purpose. I'm not that stupid. My hands were stuck to the cauldron and I'm pretty sure I know who did it."
"You could have died!"
"I know. But I didn't." Hermione fingered the chain around her neck and felt for the pendant that hung from it. "I was wearing my lucky charm. It must have saved me."
"Hermione, that's just all in your head."
"No, it's not," Hermione said stubbornly this time, taking the purple pendant out from underneath her robes.
They decided not to argue with her. "We'll get him back today - we'll get him back good."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Have you two got the ingredients?"
"Yes," said Harry mischievously. "We've got the potion done already and we'll do it tonight."
Slipping the sleeping draught into Draco Malfoy's drink had been easy enough. And breaking into his private dormitory hadn't been that hard either. But now came the difficult part - actually completing the real task.
The three were now standing at the foot of Malfoy's bed, taking in the surroundings. It was a large canopy bed with silky green pillows and smooth silver sheets. The drapes that hung from the canopy were a soft black color and fluttered in the gentle breeze that entered through the elegant window the trio had just climbed in from.
Draco Malfoy was lying in the middle of his bed with only his boxers. They were black with golden snitches flying around here and there. Hermione fought hard to stiffle her laughter.
"Okay, so how do we start?" asked Ron.
"Um, I guess we could drag him over to the tub..."
Ron grabbed Draco by his ankles and proceeded to drag him off the bed and towards the bathroom, pretending not to notice when Draco's head hit the carpet with a thud.
"God, I really hope he hasn't made any "plans" with any girls tonight, but we have to have our wands ready to perform a stunning spell if any girls do show up here," said Hermione, shaking her head and reaching for her wand.
Ron had finished dragging Draco into the bathroom and had set over the edge of the bathtub so that his upper body was hanging into the tub while the rest was on the other side. Hermione quickly drew the small box of hair dye out of her robes and threw it to Ron who caught it expertly by his left hand.
"Alright," Hermione said sinisterly with an wicked twist in her lips. "Let's get started."
"Here, I'll turn the water on," said Harry as he reached for the knob. "Now what do we do?"
"Um..." Hermione had opened the box and was reading the instructions. "We don't need the water just yet. Turn it off for now. Ron, could you pour the contents of that small bottle into the big bottle?"
"Okay," Ron said, grabbing the small bottle and pouring the glutinous contents into the larger bottle. "Isn't this supposed to be red?"
"Ron, you have to shake it," said Hermione in a know-it-all manner, glancing down at the instructions again. He did so and a minute later the contents in the bottle became a flaming red color. "Um...now it says to work it into his hair..."
"So do I just pour it on his hair?" Ron asked with a puzzled expression. None of them had ever dyed their hair before.
"I suppose," said Hermione, handing gloves to each of the boys. "You have to make sure that it covers all his hair."
All three of them knelt down by the edge of the bathtub and began working the red hair dye into Draco Malfoy's hair.
"I'm so glad he doesn't have much hair," said Hermione ten minutes later when they had finished.
"I hope the color stays..." said Ron.
"It will," Hermione reassured him. "Malfoy's got such light hair, it'll stay for sure. Just too bad that this dye isn't permanent. My cousin doesn't like to stick to one hair color for a long period of time."
"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, standing up from the tub.
"We have to wait about half an hour, I think, before it can be washed off," Hermione said, taking the instructions back into her hands.
Half an hour passed quickly and the trio washed off the excess dye in Draco's now very red hair. After drying it with a towel, they carried the unconscious boy back to his original place in the bed and hastily cleaned up the bathroom. After all, they couldn't leave any incriminating evidence behind. They wouldn't allow the deed to be traced back to them.
Their spirits at an all time high, the trio climbed back out the window and returned to their own rooms, happily envisioning the look of horror Malfoy would have the next morning.
It was a beautiful morning the next day. The sun was shining radiantly and there were no clouds whatsoever in the clear blue of the sky. The halls were crowded as the students made their way to the first class of the day. For Hermione, it was Advanced Muggle Studies, which none of her friends took.
Too bad, she thought, that Draco wasn't going to be in this class. She couldn't sleep a wink the night before, imagining what Draco would look like walking around the castle with red hair.
Hearing some giggles and hurried whispers, Hermione glanced around her and caught a glimpse of a tall redhead a few paces ahead whose back was turned away from her. She knew exactly who it was. A plan was formulating in her head as she hurried up to the figure.
"Ron!" she yelled with a tone dripping with honey and surprised delight. "Ron! Wait up!"
She reached the redhead and stepped in front of him, taking the whole scene in. Her eyes met the deadly glare of Draco Malfoy and she feigned a look of absolute surprise.
"Oh! Oops! Wrong person," she said with a sickening smile on her face, hoping that she did sound very surprised. "It must have been the hair," she said innocently, pointing to his copper head, taunting him.
By now, she had realized that Malfoy not longer held the look of murder in his face but stared at her with almost surprise. She couldn't comprehend the strange way he was staring at her and it made her feel uncomfortable. She had expected him to blow up in her face or made some snide remark, but he didn't. All he did was to keep staring at her in a confused and surprised sort of way.
She had no idea what was going on and she soon became rather confused too. So flashing him another brilliant smile, she brushed past him and continued on her way to class.
"I'm sure you've all studied chapter thirty-four, am I correct?" came the strict voice of Professor McGonagall.
Her question was answered by twenty nods.
"Then I'm sure you'll all be able to turn the crickets on your desks to birds," she said, stepping easily around the front of the classroom. "It takes some skill so I'm sure none of you will be able to do it on the first try. But eventually, I'm sure all of you will be able to perform it."
The class was silent, waiting for further instructions.
She waved her hand at them. "You may begin." Without another word, she returned to her desk and sat down, leafing through a few pieces of parchment.
Hermione sat back and watched as the whole class failed to be able to change the cricket into anything that even resembled a bird. Even Harry, who was easily the smartest wizard in the year didn't succeed in doing anything to the cricket. This brought another bout of anger upon her. Harry should have been Head Boy. Everyone knew it, but no one talked about it. He had been gypped out of that position by the slimy ferret.
Hermione drew her wand out of the pocket of her robes and angrily whispered the charm to transform the cricket into a bird. Nothing happened.
She had been so sure she could do it. She had read the chapter at least ten times! This was a sure blow to her confidence, and she scowled. So what if the chapter did say that the spell was extremely difficult and no one in history had been able to get it on their first try, but she was Hermione Granger! Hermione Granger could do anything! At least that's what she had always thought.
She tried the spell again. And again, nothing happened. Her patience began to wear thin and she glanced around the room, seeing if anyone else had any luck. Nope. By now, people weren't whispering the spell anymore, they were yelling it at the top of their lungs and it still did nothing.
Hermione, in her frustration, threw her wand down on the desk and glared at the cricket sitting on her desk. It was chirping loudly and only added to her frustration. God, anytime soon she'd get a migraine.
"Oh shut up and turn into a bird!" she said with great annoyance.
And it did.
Hermione gasped in horror as the cricket became a hideous yellow bird in the blink of an eye. The brought the memory of the other time when she was able to open the portrait by simply telling it to open. She had thought nothing of it at the time, dismissing it as a mere coincidence, but now this! She glanced around nervously, hoping that nobody had seen her.
Everyone was so busy with their own work that they had not noticed anything she had done. Suddenly she caught two silver eyes staring at her from the other side of the room. The gaze made her very uncomfortable. Had he seen? Had he seen what she had done? He was staring at her the same way he had stared at her earlier that day. It wasn't an angry stare, but more like he was confused or puzzled. She couldn't make sense of it so she decided that she'd stop trying to.
"I see that Miss Granger has been able to successfully turn her cricket into a bird. Congratulations, Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall had risen from her seat and was making her way quickly to Hermione's desk.
"Would you like to tell us how you accomplished this, Miss Granger? Please stand up and tell us!" The professor beamed down at her.
Hermione gulped and rose uneasily from her seat. For some reason she turned her gaze to the other side of the room and met Draco Malfoy's stare. It almost gave her a sense of security, of comfort. She knew she was definitely going out of her mind.
"I don't know," she said softly, as her eyes sunk into a deep invisible connection with Draco's silver ones. "I don't know."
Professor Binns' history course, everyone agreed, was the most pointless class in Hogwarts. Many did not even take his class seriously, but used it as naptime. Somehow, though, today something was different.
Professor Binns was actually cheerful today, which caught the attention of every student his class.
"Sit down, everyone," he said without his usual droning tone." We're going to start a new unit today."
"Every year the seventh years write an essay on former alumnus of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In this hat here," he said holding a large black hat in the air," are the names of students who have graduated exactly twenty years ago. Exactly twenty years ago, these students were in your places as seventh years. It's Hogwarts tradition for each student to write a very long and well developed essay about one of the seventh years from twenty years ago."
Neville Longbottom raised his hand to speak. "Do we get to work on it with a partner? Or alone?" Hermione could tell that Neville didn't want to work alone - he couldn't do anything right by himself.
"Alone," answered Professor Binns. "It's a single person project and everyone must turn in a report on a different person."
"When is it due and how long must it be?" Hermione asked, ready to scribble down the details of the assignment.
"This project will be done out of class time because during class we'll still be learning history and such. There will be no set time in class to do this project so you must accomplish it in your own spare time. Therefore, it won't be due until Winter Holidays. As for the length, I usually ask my students to write at least ten feet."
Groans erupted throughout the classroom.
"I think my parents were in that year," Harry whispered excitedly to Hermione and then raised his hand. The professor called on him.
"Can we pick who we'd like to do the report on or will they be assigned?"
"Ah," said the professor, smiling now. "That is what the hat is for. When I call your names up, you will put your hand in the hat. There is one name on each small piece of parchment in the hat. You need only to put your hand into the hat and wait until a piece of parchment flies into your hand."
There was silence in the room because no one could understand what exactly what he was getting at.
He cleared his throat and spoke again, slower this time. "The name of the person on parchment will pick one of you. It is the name that picks the person."
Without further ado, he began to call each person up to the front of the room by rows. Harry, to no one's surprise, got his father's name, James Potter. He was excited and happy as he sat down - he had so many wonderful things he could write about his father. Ron's parents weren't in that year, so he got Lily Evans. It was almost like the people on the pieces of parchment chose the student. Ron had gotten Lily because somehow, the name just knew that he was Harry's friend.
When it was Hermione's turn to get a name, she walked up to the hat wondering what name she could possibly get. Her parents were muggles so they didn't come to Hogwarts and she didn't know any other people besides James and Lily and they were already taken.
She cautiously put her hand into the hat and a second later, a piece of parchment hit her hand almost as if it was a piece of metal and her hand was a magnet. She kept the parchment in her fist and didn't open it until she returned to her desk.
"Who do you have?" Harry asked curiously.
Hermione opened her hand and unfolded the yellow piece of parchment. She started down at the name.
Aurora Belle Riviera
What kind of name was that? It sounded like some stuck up high-society name to Hermione. Even Pansy Parkinson sounded a bit more modest than that.
"Wow, what a name," Ron said, looking over her shoulder at the parchment.
"Tell me about it," Hermione said with a groan.
"Aurora Belle Riviera," Harry read off her parchment. "Who is she?"
"I don't know! I've never even heard of her!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I don't think I want to know about someone with a name like hers!"
"Well, the name picked you."
"I was one of the last ones to be called up - it probably had no choice but to pick me! Why do you guys get people that you actually know? It's completely unjust!"
Hermione looked down at the parchment again, taking the name in with a sickening feeling in her stomach. This assignment would definitely be a challenge for her.
"I feel sick," Hermione announced at the Gryffindor table as they settled down for dinner in the Great Hall.
"What's wrong?" asked Ron as he grabbed a bowl of soup.
"I don't know," she said uncertainly and then turned to face them. "Do you think I look really weird today or something? Do I look funny?"
"You always look funny," Harry said, sending her a merry smile.
"Shut up, Harry." Hermione hit his shoulder playfully.
"Actually, I'll tell you who looks really funny - Malfoy," said Harry.
Ron shook his head attempting to look sad. "I guess red just wasn't his color."
"Everybody's been talking about it - just not to his face," Harry said. "The Slytherins pretend that they don't see it."
"It seems like he's taking it quite well."
"Yeah," said Hermione. Wouldn't Malfoy retaliate? He hadn't said a thing to her all day long when she'd been expecting to be insulted and beaten up to the edge of death! "It's strange how well he's taking it. Everything's been strange today..." her voice drifted off.
"Like what?"
"Okay, this whole day, Draco Malfoy has been staring at me non-stop! It's really unnerving! So that's why I thought maybe I looked funny or something."
"Maybe he's discovered his hidden feelings for you," Ron said trying to sound romantic, and covering his laughs.
"Don't even go there!" Hermione shook her head with an air of annoyance at her friend and took a bite of the corn. "I'm being completely serious. It's really scaring me."
Suddenly, Hermione felt like she was being watched and quickly lifted her eyes to see two silver orbs staring at her from the Slytherin table. The moment that her gaze met his, he turned his eyes away, as if he didn't want anyone to catch him staring at her.
"From the way that he looks at me, I think that maybe he's got something awful planned for me." A sigh escaped from her lips. "I don't know what it is."
"Hermione, really, it's nothing. You're just being paranoid."
"No," she said, more persistent this time. "It's deeper than that. I get this feeling - I've had this feeling since I woke up this morning."
"What feeling?"
"I can't explain it," she said, her voice melancholy. "It's like something is going to come out. I can't describe it. It's just like a feeling - like a premonition that something is going to happen."
The boys were silent as they heard the graveness of her tone.
"Like somehow everything's changed and nothing will ever be the same again."
Her room was dark, the only source of light being the soft rays of the moonlight, but she was too exhausted to turn the lights on. The events of the day had been too confusing for her and they had worn her down completely.
Hermione decided that she would just splash some water on her face and then climb into bed for a good night's sleep. Her eyes half open, she entered the grand bathroom in her dormitory and turned on the faucet. The cold water on her face was extremely refreshing and rejuvenated her.
She stood awhile in the dark bathroom, splashing the cold water onto her face. It was a nice, crisp, clean feeling and she loved it. Determined not to waste any more time and to get to bed as soon as possible, she turned off the faucet and turned to leave the bathroom.
However, something caught her eye as she turned. In curiosity, or perhaps fright, she spun back around again and gazed directly into the mirror. A gasp - her gasp - filled the silence in the room as she saw the reflection in the mirror.
Two golden eyes were staring back at her.
TBC
A/N: Yeah, so this chapter was completely pointless and yeah I know you're all wondering what the golden eyes are at the end of the chapter and why the hell Draco is staring at her. I guess you'll find out either in the next chapter or the one after that or something.
Anyhow, review! I love reviews!
