Bound
By Angel Of Music

"Arise my love, my fair one. Fair one, come away with me. Lo, for the winter is past. The rain is over and gone...Arise my love, my fair one."
-This quote is off of a beautiful piece of music in which has no visible composer. I do not own this wonderful piece of work.

Chapter Twelve: Crucified Friendship

The pale, citrus haired boy looked from Hermione to Draco as they quickly pulled apart. Astonished, he placed his clammy palm over his mouth in an inaudible gasp. "W-what are you doing with Hermione?" He stammered, drawing one step nearer. "You get away from her, you Slytherin git, just leave her alone. And get out of our common room for Christ's sake." Ron's eyes grew angry and colder, more so than Hermione or Draco had ever seen them. The rage in him was palpable, and it frightened Hermione almost to the point of tears. Draco stared at Ron for a few brief moments, which seemed to last for ages, then stepped quietly out of the portrait hole.

For a second, Hermione thought that Ron took it lightly, but only for a second. After a short pause, he erupted, "What were you doing!? How did he get in? Did you let him in?"

"Surely, Ron, you'll let me explain!" She pleaded. "I didn't let him in, I promise this! I simply came into the common room to write in my journal, and moments later, there he was. What you just witnessed-"

"What I just witnessed? Maybe you aren't understanding this. I just witnessed Malfoy doing something to you that I can't even imag-" He slumped upon a nearby armchair, exasperated. "I don't think I can stand this. You've hit me with a few surprises, Hermione, but this? I never expected this." He looked up at her, as if to expect some sort of an explanation.

"Ron, I'm sorry." She whimpered.

"I just can't believe you'd so something like this to Harry and I. The whole of Gryffindor house, even! What were you thinking? What is even happening? This whole thing has honestly confused me." He sighed. She took a short step towards him.

"Ron-"

"Just don't talk to me." She stood, her lips ajar for a moment, then narrowed her eyes.

"Fine." She snapped harshly, turning around. "I shouldn't listen to you, anyway. You aren't my father. You have no right to order me around. I can do what I will with my life, and there's nothing you, Harry, or Gryffindor house can do about it!" She yelled, making her way up to her dormitory.
* * *
"McGonagall must be insane!" The rash voice of Blaise Zambini came. "You don't need a tutor, especially Granger, the great mudblood. Just don't go." Draco shook his head, staring at the letter he had recieved that morning. "It could be some sort of a mistake." She added.

"No, I've gotten into enough trouble though these years, what with getting detentions and all. I think I'd better just go."

"Say the owl never came." She suggested, shrugging. He raised his eyebrows.

"I don't think so. I mean, it was sent just from McGonagall's office; it didn't have a very long flight."

"Whatever." She replied, putting a pale hand on his shoulder. "It's your funeral."

"For your information, Zambini," He demanded, smirking slightly, "I think it would be more of Granger's funeral." Blaise returned his comment with a sneer. "Besides, I could do with a bit of a walk." She sighed and wrapped her arms about him. Draco felt awkward. Last time someone had been in his arms...

"Give Granger a good kick for me." She told him, waving as he began to walk up the stone stairwell.

*A kick indeed,* He thought as he approached the library. As he went through the arched doorway, he spotted Hermione waiting nervously for him, her arms embracing a small stack of books. She noticed him, and quickly turned her head away.

"Quite a good job you did on Valentine's, Malfoy. I haven't heard the end of it since last week. Ron's getting all snooty."

"I always said he was a dunderhead, didn't I Granger?" He retorted, sitting down.

"No, Malfoy! You're wrong! He's not the dunderhead, it's you and I! I'm ridiculous, you're ridiculous...what are we doing here? Maybe Ron is right, after all. What was I doing?" Worried as to her next comment, Draco interrupted.

"Say what you wrote was true. Say, perhaps, I felt similar. Then what? What would you do, Hermione?"

"Ex...cuse me?" She stuttered, placing her fingers upon her lips. "What did you just say?"

"What?" He paused, staring at her curious expression. Realizing suddenly what he had said, he corrected, "GRANGER! I meant Granger." He chuckled uneasily. "Bloody Weasley implanting thoughts in my mind."

"Malfoy, you called me Hermione."

"Not intentionally." He promoted, frowning. "I can't believe you think..." Cutting himself off, her stared into her deep, dusty eyes, taking in their sincerity. She was gazing at him as she never had before, and upon her face was plastered a look of concealed admiration, flowing out through her bona fide, static eyes. She took his hand in hers and smiled meekly.

It was almost as if everything had changed in that moment. His life beforehand became pointless and inane. His hatred of her was impotent now, and nothing seemed to matter anymore. For in her stare were galaxies of despair, happiness, hatred, and love. It was then that Draco realized that her eyes were her true beauty, and that everything else that people considered less then preposessing was worthless. They were the reason he was still lving; she was the reason he was still living. "You know," He began, his gaze rested on hers. "Many people believe that madness is the poisoning of the mind, but I've never believed that." She turned from him and drew her hands back.

"Is that so?" She asked quietly.

"Yes." He nodded. "I believe that madness is the poisoning of the soul." Almost as if struck by sudden inspiration, she pivoted back to him, beginning to chew upon her lip.

"Then if that is true, I must be mad." She articulated, a small strand of hair falling across her placid face. "Something about me must have changed. I must be mad." She repeated, as he lowered his chin and tore his vision from her.

"I apologize for my evil deed, you should know that. I didn't mean- I didn't want to-" She hushed him and took his hands again, embracing them with her own. They were cold, and shook spasmodically. She was frightened, but the fear was healthy and new. She held onto his hands until they were warm, and watched him closely as he inspected her.

"I'm not that interesting, you know." She said after a while with a short laugh. He raised his eyebrows.

"That's one person's opinion." He admonished. "I, in turn, find this whole situation intruiging." She smiled at him and nodded.

"As it certainly is. Well, McGonagall did say she wanted stronger ties between Gryffindor and Slytherin." Suddenly realizing something, Draco's face fell.

"I nearly forgot you were a no-blood. Could this be happening because of..." He swallowed, urging himself to continue. "Do you think this is due to the bond?" Apparently trying to avoid the subject, Hermione snapped,

"Perhaps. I don't know, Malfoy."

"Listen." He began after a moment of prolonged silence. "I know I'm a Slytherin, and pretty much a no-good prat. And you're a Gryffindor. Everyone fancies Gryffindors. I know I'm hated by most everyone, but ever since that day you stopped me from dying, something had changed." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"You mean- saved you from dying." He nodded.

"But you must admit, something had changed."

"I do admit that." She acknowledged. "And so you think that's why this has occurred?" He pondered this for a moment, and then with a stout exhale, he shook his head.

"No. And as I've told you before, I've seen the world. I know about it. And I know that initially I thought that the bond had something to do with it, but now that I think of it, if all this had happened even without you saving me, I would still..." He broke off, idolizing Hermione's curious expression.

"Go on," She encouraged. He bit his lip, as if trying to hide something from himself.

"No, I can't." Deciding that this was not the time to provoke Draco's emotions, Hermione smiled softly.

"It's okay." She promised him, "I'm sure it's not important."

"I would still admire you." He finished quickly. For a long moment, Draco thought he saw a flick of worry and sadness dance across Hermione's face. She stared at him for a long time, almost as if she did not even dream of realizing this before. Her face was very close to his, and he could feel her warm breath upon his lips. Something told him to lean over and kiss her, to break the bond right then and there, yet something more intricate held him back. Perhaps this was all a fabrication; just some enormous, blinding dream, and Draco himself had not realized it yet. Perhaps it was not the right time or right atmosphere. Whatever it was, he was sure that he had done the right thing, and pulled away.

"Draco," She started, carefully toying with the name. "Like Draco of the ancient Roman civilization. The cruelest, most inhumane creature of the times. On one hand, it is a horrible thing. But on the other hand, it is Draco, the constellation in the stars, signifying beauty and grace. Which am I to believe?" She asked him, her eyes darting across his pale complexion.

"Both." He considered. Her eyes seemed to widen at that moment, if that was possible.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose."

"How did you get in on Valentine's Day?" He had known this was coming. Barely pausing to take in her question, he laughed.

"How did I know you would ask that. You Gryffindors can't leave anything a mystery, can you? I think that's the significant difference between us. Very well, if you must know." Halting for a moment, he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, remember how I told you I fell through that stair and landed right before your dormitory?" She nodded, waiting for him to commence once more. "Well, I jumped into it this time, not quite knowing why. I suppose I just wanted to see what you were like when just being...you." This struck Hermione as curious.

"But I am always me."

"No." He responded to this, shaking his head. "Around me you are indignant and highly fearful. Alone, one can be completely different." Now understanding his ideaology, she motioned for him to continue.

"When I told you about Voldemort praising me for the death of that child, he gave me a gift. He gave me the power to dissapear. And so I used it. I waited outside your common room for you to come, and when you did, I came inside with you. I was simply there the whole time."

"That's not a very reassuring thing, you know." She frowned. "I'll never know when you're lurking behind me." Stopping, she contemplated for a brief second. "It's a very useful gift, you know, but very dark. I wouldn't use it often if I were you."

"And why not?" She gave him a very menacing look.

"Okay, alright, fine!" He barked, looking very sullen and annoyed. "I think you just don't want me sneaking up on you again." He teased. She simply rolled her eyes.
* * *
Ron was in a horrible mood that evening when Hermione returned from the library. He began pacing back and forth around her, attempting to make her feel very guilty. It was working quite well.

"Where were you, Hermione?"

"I was tutoring Malfoy. McGonagall told me-"

"McGonagall? That's a pretty pathetic excuse if you ask me. I think you just went to go snog with him or something. I know you fancy him."

"Ron-" She persisted, raising her eyebrows. "No one ever said that. He simply snuck in here, and...attempted to..." She halted mid-sentence and turned to Ron. Looking him straight in the eyes, she yelled, "Fine! You know what, Ron, you win. Draco has changed, and I think you are just jealous." She snapped, narrowing her eyes.

"Malfoy? Changed? Malfoy will never change. He'll always be a sniveling, stupid, ignorant, moronic, dung-eating, prat of a daddy's boy, and a murderer upon that! He'll always be a git Slytherin, and Slytherin's never change. You don't see Pansy Parkinson coming up and offering me sweets, do you?"

"Offering you sweets? It's hardly anything like that! He can be completely heartfelt, I hope you know. You really are jealous."

"Jealous? Of a toad-breathed rogue like Malfoy? I really don't think so."

"Ron, no one said that you could protect me. That's my own job. You don't run my life, I do. And if I think Malfoy has changed, he has." Ron looked dumbfounded. "And you know what?" He did not answer, but stood staring at her evilly. "I do fancy him." She watched as his bothered expression turned into one of complete loathing, then turned menacingly to go back up to her dormitory.

"You'll regret this, Hermione! I hope you know that you've pulled yourself into a trap that you'll be stuck in for all eternity!"
* * *
"What's wrong, Draco?" The beautiful Slytherin girl asked him as he swept into the common room. He was blinded by a flash of green light, and he felt quite sick. Blaise was stading before him, supporting his weight on her shoulder.

"I'm...fine..." He mumbled. "Just a bit lightheaded- I...guess-" She frowned and sat him upon the couch, staring into his chalk-gray eyes. "Don't worry about it." Sighing, she placed her head on his shoulder and coldly shut her eyes.

"The thing is, I always worry about you. I think there's something wrong that neither of us know about."

"Like a conspiracy?" He suggested, closing his eyes.

"Maybe. I'm always afraid for you, what with Voldemort and everything. You're sure things are alright?"

"I would hope it, Blaise." He looked up as she drew back her head and threw her hair over her shoulder.

"Because, I love you, you know." He briefly gazed at her, then whispered,

"I know." Nothing she said could help him now, for he was bound to Hermione Granger. Bound to Hermione.

There was an elongated moment of silence. Blaise was now asleep on his lap as he stared hopelessly into the fire. Nothing good could come of this situation. Blaise ejected her feelings for him; ones in which he did not return, for he had fallen for a vitim of his own fowl play. He had fallen for the girl for whom he had so long despised and detested. Fallen for a mudblood that could have easily enough been killed by Voldemort. For a few minutes, he hated himself, and every impure thought that flowed through his mind like a river of darkness. And for those few moments, he had the temptation to turn around and take back everything he had just said. But when they elapsed, Draco knew that something about this was all for the best.

He slowly rose, trying not to move Blaise much, and went upstairs into his dormitory. It was dark and murky, but the beams from the evening's moon rode across the sky as firey dragon wings and projected into the room, spilling light over Draco's solemn face. He felt he was dripping with perspiration, and wiping it off his brow, shuffled into the bathroom.

He stared into the mirror for a moment. Draco Malfoy stared back. But no, on second thought this was not the Draco Malfoy he knew for most of his life. The man that stared back at him through the reflection looked weak, grim, and tired, his eyes kind, yet melancholy, his lips twisted and salmon, his hair straggled and moist. He did not look like Draco Malfoy, he rendered, stroking the pale skin he never noticed he had. This person that stared back at him was fragile, hopeless, yet all in one, beautiful.

And then he realized it. It hit him like a clap of thunder. The weak beauty was wha he admired. He loved the way Hermione always seemed so steady, yet how he knew that on the inside she was not. He loved the way that her eyes never stayed focused; that they always darted around in a state of paranoia. Yes, that was it. He loved her uneasiness, her weakness, unsureness. She was like a delicate flower, torn from the rough wind, swaying in a dank winter's breeze. She was just like him.

He looked back down into the sink, and turning it on, let the cold and mocking water run down his palms. As he looked down, something midnight and red shot through his vision. And after a second, he realized what it was.

"Nagini." He pulled her out of the drain as she offensively coiled up his arm and handed him a letter. "Thanks." He told her, shoving her back down from where she came. He unfolded the note quickly, eager to read it.

Draco,
Well done with everything so far. Voldemort has another task for you; he seemed to like the job you did of the Fredcook's daughter. Using your invisibility power and your wit, he hsa instructed me to tell you that you must kill the following students. They are an annoyance of his, for some of them have meddled in his affairs. Finally, mudbloods will cease to be at Hogwarts, and we shall make room for the better and more sophisticated magical folk.

The list is as follows:
Lisa Turpin
Sam Quiggle
Gerina Vandebuilt
Hermione Granger

I expect this task done in no more than one week. If you do not comply, Voldermort shall deal with you.
Sincerely yours,
-Lucius.
* * *