I'm back at long last! Flordia was GREAT, but we drove and the transmission on our car broke, so we were stuck there a little longer than planned So, here's chapter 6. This story keeps taking some odd turns... I don't really have out exactly what's gonna happen, but, we shall see! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, there probably wouldn't even be a fanfiction section for it cuz I'm not the genius JK Rowling is!!!

"Mr. Malfoy, I need to speak with you, if you could stay for just another moment," McGonagall said. Draco sighed. This was the fourth time in his first three weeks at school he had been held after by a teacher; first Snape with his weird messages, then Delecour for not paying attention (he had deserved that one), then Flitwick for doing inappropriate things to his frog during class for laughs (he deserved that too), and now McGonagall for whatever stupid thing she needed to talk to him about.

"Yes Professor?" he said, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice. He wanted to get to Spell Creation.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am very disappointed with your performance in this class," she said, adjusting her square spectacles. "How you managed an 'E' on your exams but yet fail everything I give you is not clear to me. Do you know what the problem is, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No Professor," Draco lied. He knew perfectly well that he was stressed, and on top of it not being his best class, he was bound to fail. However, he wasn't going to tell McGonagall this. He wasn't going to tell anyone.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have failed the last two tests, all of your essays, and have not managed to fully transfigure anything all year. You must have some idea."

"I guess I've developed a block about it," he said quietly and relatively truthfully. None of his other classes suffered when he was upset, only this one. In fact, stress made him do better in other classes because he was so determined to do well in everything. However as that is not possible, Transfiguration would slip.

McGonagall eyed him over her glasses, then raised her eyebrows. "I have arranged a tutor for you," she said and Draco detected a sneer in her voice.

"Professor, I don't need a tutor," he said, forcing a laugh. The look on her face was not making him feel very comfortable with the idea. However, she ignored him and went on.

"Your tutor is the best in this class out of all four Houses, and if she cannot help you, I don't know who can." Her sneer, though still not really on her face, was so obvious in her voice Draco felt a tingle shoot down his spine. He didn't like the sound of this. "You will work with her every Tuesday after diner in the library, as she is not in Slytherin; you don't have Quiditch practice that day. I expect you to be polite and to work hard, and to not make her life difficult. Transfiguration is very important and…."

"Who is she?" Draco interrupted, asking the question that had been burning inside him since she started sneering. McGonagall gave him a rare smile that told Draco that he wouldn't find the answer nearly as amusing as she did.

"Hermione Granger."

And that is how he found himself sitting in the library at a table that was very well hidden, so no one would see him, arms folded across his chest, being glared at by Miss Mudblood herself.

"Malfoy, would you just listen?" she said, smacking him on the shoulder.

"Don't touch me," he replied, glaring right back at her. She sighed in a very irritated way.

"Ya know, I'm no happier about this than you are, ok? Do you want help or not?" she spat. Draco just stared at her, feeling very, very unhappy.

"I want help, just not from you," he said simply.

"This is exactly what Ron said was going to happen, and he was right; this is pointless!" she exploded, receiving a "SHHH!" from Madam Pince.

"Oooh, Ronny your lover?" Draco mocked dully. He still wasn't happy to be here.

"What did you say to me?" she squealed.

"Oh come off it, everyone knows you and Weasly have been gettin' it on since first year." Granger looked like she was going to explode and a smirk plastered itself on Draco's face. She was blushing and Draco knew immediately that he had touched a nerve. "You seriously like Weasly? I was just kidding!" He started laughing quietly.

"No I don't!" she retaliated in a very unconvincing tone and she started blushing harder. This was great.

"You teach me Transfiguration, I'll teach you how to lie, cuz you need the help." He snickered at her again. "Weasly, man that's disgusting! Can't wait to tell him." She looked horrified, then caught herself and changed the look to one of very fake uncaring.

"There's nothing to tell him," she said, turning back to her book. Then she turned back. "You really wouldn't, would you?" she whispered. Draco smirked.

"Give me one reason not to, Mudblood," he replied.

"Because McGonagall will fail you if you don't get help," she said in a would-be cool voice.

"Fine," he shrugged, figuring he could use the info as blackmail instead. She gave him a strange look, but he didn't feel like continuing the conversation. "Just teach me, Professor Mudblood."

"I'm a Prefect too you know," she snarled, "and I can give you a detention for language like that."

"Well 'scuse me!" but a smile was playing on her lips, like she was holding back a laugh.

"What the hell is so funny?" Draco asked, though he got an urge to laugh as well.

"I… don't know!" and then she did start giggling. Draco looked at her like she was mad and tried to restrain his own snickers.

"You're acting really, really, un-Grangerish." He realized what he had said and how messed up it must have sounded. He felt a blush tickle his cheeks and didn't really know why he cared.

"You've been acting very odd the last couple days," she said out of the blue, laughter ceasing entirely. Draco's anger rose back up.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "Can we please stick to the subject? I don't want to have to be able to say I had a conversation with you."

And so she began explaining Transfiguration to him.

About an hour into the explanation, he started to zone out.

Damn, she really knows this stuff, he thought, not listening to her. He was amazed at the ease with witch big words and concepts rolled off her tongue. She started explaining wand movement, Draco was unsure of which spell it was for. Her curly hair bounced as she showed him what to do. He noticed curves in places they hadn't been the year before. The Mudblood could actually be quite pretty if she so chose….

And then he was overcome by a terrible force, more evil than the Dark Lord himself. It was this force that caused him to lean in toward the Mudblood, to look her straight in the eyes, cutting off her sentence. This force that caused him to lean forward, brushing her lips with his own. Hers were so soft, and he lost all sense of self as he ran a hand through her hair. It was the force that made him move his tongue out of his own mouth and push it between her lips….

Then he became aware of what he was doing.

He jerked away so suddenly that she gasped. All of a sudden he was angry. Very angry.

"You stupid Mudblood!" he shouted at the shocked and confused-looking Granger. "Look what you've done! Now I'm contaminated!!!" He stormed out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince's lecturing.

He didn't know where he was going, but he was going there fast. Staircases, hallways and portraits seemed to zoom by him until he had no idea where he was. Then he opened a door and shut himself inside, panting.

It wasn't a classroom, but some small, dark room, with nothing but what appeared to be a mirror in the far corner.

Draco sank onto the floor, back against the back wall, gripping his hair.

What in bloody hell had happened to him in there?

"I kissed Hermione Granger," he said to himself. "Oh my God, I kissed Hermione Granger!" He was absolutely disgusted with himself but at the same time, looking back on it sent shivers down his spine; and not the bad kind.

"She's going to tell Potter!" he muttered with sudden horror. Damn, this was going to be all over the school! Holy shit, his life was over!

He glanced sideways into the mirror, but did not see himself. Or rather he did see himself, but it didn't look like him, save for the gray eyes and blonde hair which was much longer, his eyes colder.

Holy shit.

He sprang up, all thoughts of Granger leaving his mind. He stared into the mirror in horror, for where he should have been standing stood his father in the exact same position Draco was in.

"What's going on?" he muttered. He moved his head, his arm, but whatever he did, his father's image did too. He looked behind him, but it was only he in the room.

Draco trembled, feeling his face for any sign that he looked different, but as far as he could tell, everything was in order.

But he was his father and he was even smirking just like him, looking too evil to be real.

This couldn't be true. Whatever this mirror was showing him it was a lie. He was panting, tears in his eyes. He wasn't like him. He couldn't be.

"What are you showing me?" he said to the mirror, his voice shaking. "Is it the future? Is it me? What the hell, I can't take this!" But he couldn't draw his eyes away. It was like watching a car crash.
How long he stared at the mirror he did not know, but he did not care. "What is this?"

"This is the mirror of Deracs, Mr. Malfoy."

"What the fuck?!" Draco said, whipping around.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy," said the person whom the voice belonged to. He had a long, silvery white beard and was wearing deep blue robes. Draco quickly composed himself. Dumbledore was not some one he wanted to appear weak in front of.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore," Draco said insincerely, almost sarcastically.

"Same to you, Draco," the old man replied, eyes shining behind his half-moon spectacles. "Now, as I was saying, it appears you have stumbled across the mirror of Deracs." Draco said nothing. He wasn't getting into this conversation. Dumbledore smiled almost kindly. Almost.

"Do you not wish to know why you are seeing yourself as your father, Draco?" Draco just shrugged which, when translated, meant yes you fucking idiot!! and he hoped Dumbledore would realize that.

"You see," he continued, "the mirror of Deracs shows the looker something deep inside themselves. Do know what that might be, Draco?" Did he really have to say his name in every sentence? Draco was not going to talk to him, couldn't he realize that? Draco just raised his eyebrows at his headmaster. Dumbledore had never shown any interest in him since the moment he arrived at this school. Never really spoken directly to him. Never really even indicated Draco was there except for when he was in trouble.

"You don't know?" the headmaster pressed. "Well I suppose I shall have to tell you for otherwise, this experience may haunt you." Draco glanced at Dumbledore for a moment, to indicate that he was listening. He did not however, meet his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to out of sheer intimidation.

"You see, Draco, this mirror shows the observer his deepest, darkest fear."

"Wait," Draco interrupted, an acidic edge to his voice. "You mean to tell me that you came in here, invisible or transfigured or something, and now you know my worst fear?!" Rage was bubbling in side him, threatening to boil over. "You have no right to do that." Dumbledore looked down.

"I do not. It was an accident, Draco, that I happened to stumble upon you in here, and I am immensely sorry to have invaded something that is, in reality, very personal."

"You should be," he spat. But his mind was racing. So that's what it meant, a fear. Thank God, I thought it was something worse than that….

But now Dumbledore knew which might be worse. It's better for everyone to think he was a Death Eater than to know he was scared of his father… or being his father… or whatever.

"What I have seen of you tonight makes me wonder about your relationship with your father." It's none of your business, old man, Draco thought. Just stop right there and stay out of my life. "I wonder if I could speak with you…."

"No," Draco interrupted icily. "You only want to find out from me what the other side's up to because you think I know."

"Draco…."

"Take your 'talking' and your 'feelings' to Potter. He's the only one you care about anyway." And Draco stormed off, leaving a bewildered Dumbledore behind him. This day was beginning to feel worse than his initiation…. Ok maybe not that bad, but close.

And to make matters worse, on his way to the common room he felt the immense pain that was Voldemort's Call, causing him to double over and attract many strange looks. He swallowed hard, hoping to maybe swallow the pain as well. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass, and when it did he bolted to his room so he wouldn't be late.

"Take me to the meeting," he whispered into his stone back in his dorm, after being very sure no one would walk in on him.

Like I said, some odd turns. The things I come up with while bored out of my mind in a mini-van over crowded with little siblings lol. Mucho love!