Hidden Secrets

"The day is gone
It's cold out
I walk alone as you fade out
I don't know why I'm reaching out
And now I know you won't come back"

"What do you think you're doing?"

Draco gulped. What was he suppose to say exactly? This wasn't in any part of his plans. He figured that his mother might have caught him, not his father. He knew Narcissa would believe any of his excuses, but Lucius was not so forgiving.

"What are you doing with this girl?" his father repeated, in a more demanding tone.

"I... uh..."

"I trust you to do one thing, and you can't even do it!"

"I... um..."

"Your actions reflect this family! Do you not know how to express loyalty and appreciation to being a Malfoy!"

"Er... I..."

"Is this how you treat me after all the years I have supplied you with everything! You are a spoiled, ungrateful little brat of a child! What have you got to say for yourself!"

"I... erm..."

"You are useless. Give her to me."

Draco looked at the girl beside him, and back to his father. He didn't know what to do; he wanted to help out the poor girl, but he was afraid of what Lucius could do. Once again, he had to choose between his sins and his virtues, but he was stuck. They both came with advantages and consequences, and neither outweighed the other. He could see the girl's eyes pleading for him to help save her, but his father had seemed to possess the deadly glare Draco couldn't ignore.

"Give her to me NOW," Lucius demanded.

"N-no," Draco replied, but was barely heard.

Instead, Lucius grabbed the girl, who was trying hard to remain clung to Draco, and forced her back into the very room they were trying to escape from. He locked the door, and turned to Draco, with such danger in his eyes that could make anyone cower in fear.

"You follow me," he instructed.

Draco reluctantly obeyed his father, wondering what kind of trouble he would be in. He turned to look at the room once more, feeling extremely helpless that he failed to save the girl and unable to stand up to his father. He was foolish enough to think that he could get away with his plan; of course Lucius knew everything that was happening in his own house, how could he have overlooked that fact?

Draco was beginning to wonder where his father was leading him until they entered Lucius' office. Lucius was facing his fireplace, his back towards his son, silently contemplating on the current situation.

"Draco, where do you stand?"

Draco was surprised he was asked this question in such a calm manner, and hesitated as to what to say.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Just a few weeks ago, I was pondering on how well I've raised you. You have turned out how I had wanted you to, and I'd never thought I would say this, but I was proud. Now, I found you actually helping some pitiful girl escape this place. What had gotten into you? I'm very disappointed in your actions, and right now, I could hardly think of you as my son anymore."

"B-but, Father-"

"Do not call me that."

"B-but I think you've got this all wrong-"

"I do not think so. Tell me the truth, Draco, tell me what you had gotten yourself into lately."

Draco gulped. He didn't want to reveal everything that had happened in Hogwarts, especially about Hermione. He just couldn't.

Lucius waited impatiently for his answer, but when he wasn't given a reply, he decided to continue on with the interrogation. "You have underestimated me, haven't you? Think I don't know what was going on with you, do you? Tell me about that mudblood that I've heard so much about."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is that so? Then tell me why I've been told that you and her have been getting awfully close recently, hmm?"

"It's a lie. Whoever told you must have been blind."

"I do not think they would lie to me. However, I think you would."

Draco didn't know what to say. His father was right, but he was only doing this to protect Hermione, so it was the appropriate thing to do, right? His father was winning this argument, but it was ironic how Lucius was punishing Draco for lying when he, himself, had lied on several occasions.

"Who was that girl, Father?" Draco asked with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"What are you possibly mumbling about" This was rather more of a statement than a question.

"That girl, who was she? For the past couple of weeks, I've been thinking she was one particular person. Now, I found out that she's someone I've never met in my life. Who was she?"

Lucius scoffed. "You actually think I would let you do something before testing you first?"

Judging by Draco's confused expression on his face, Lucius continued further onto his explanation. "Even though I was glad you had chosen my path, I still couldn't let you carry on without making sure of a couple things myself."

"And so you used this girl to prove what?"

"Imagine my reaction to the news that my son had been seeing a mudblood," Lucius said, ignoring Draco's question. "I would never have thought that something like that would happen, especially from right under my nose. However, it surprised me greatly when you came to me and told me you wanted to follow in my footsteps. I had wondered which side you were really on, and so I had conducted an experiment using the girl to come to a conclusion about you. And by the looks of it, my question seemed to have been answered."

"H-how?"

"Two words: Polyjuice Potion."

Suddenly, Draco came to the realization of everything that had occurred over the past few weeks. He just couldn't believe that he hadn't figured it out earlier.

"So you're saying that-"

"That girl you were unsuccessfully trying to rescue was there all along. She just wasn't the one you were looking for."

"And you used the potion-"

"On her, yes. The whole thing was very amusing, actually."

"And all of this was just to prove-"

"If you had all the qualities necessary to work with me. However, you failed at proving that."

Draco couldn't take it anymore. His frustration, anger and sadness were building up inside of him, and what he wanted more than anything right now was a solution to this madness.

"I can't believe you would do this to me. I'm your son."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Judging by your actions, I would think otherwise."

"I want to know where she is."

"She? I don't believe I know who you're talking about."

"You perfectly know well who I'm talking about. Where is she? She's in this house somewhere, isn't she?"

"That is of no concern of yours."

"She is, isn't she! What have you done to her!"

"I said," Lucius repeated, whipping out his wand, "that is no concern of yours."

"Of course it is!" Draco snapped. "I just can't believe I haven't figured this out sooner. You wouldn't trust me if your life depended on it."

"You don't know what you're saying. You're blaming everything on me, when clearly, YOU betrayed the very rules this family was standing for! I think that mudblood has poisoned your mind."

"She didn't. You have. You know nothing of what's best for me, but what's best for you. And I won't stand for it anymore."

Draco turned to leave, but stopped when Lucius spoke up.

"You do NOT speak to me like that."

"I can speak to you in any-"

He never got to finish his sentence, as at that unfortunate moment, he was hit by a powerful spell from behind.

"Dear boy," Lucius said, looking at Draco's limp body, "don't you know that Father knows best?"

----

It was such a beautiful, spring day. The sky was never bluer, the birds were chirping their own pleasant songs, and a light breeze seemed to have completed the picturesque scene.

It was perfect. In fact, it was too good to be true.

But Hermione didn't care. She was too busy enjoying her surroundings, observing everything around her. The environment seemed to have intrigued her deeply, since she had never been in such a calm state before.

She was grinning widely and was practically skipping through the fields of green grass. This wasn't her; she had never skipped in this manner before. But how could she not? She was in a very ecstatic mood, and she took that to her advantage. She had never had a day where she felt this good, so why not enjoy herself?

Finding some flowers in her path, she decided to pluck them out from the ground and took in their sweet scent. She had begun to wonder how anyone could miss any of this out, but shrugged, and continued on. After a while of collecting more flowers, she had begun to feel a bit lonely. She wanted someone to share all of this with her, but there was no one in sight. Could she be in some sort of place that no one knew about? Could she even be trapped here? She shook her head. No, she couldn't be. Why would she be placed in such utopia?

She had slowed down her walking, certain that there were no more than trees, grass, and flowers ahead. However, just as she came to that conclusion, she was proven otherwise. Far ahead, perched against a large tree in the middle of the field, was a dark object. Curious, she decided to sprint ahead towards it, until she could see that the object was indeed a person. Their back was facing her, and their head was hung low between their legs, which was why they hadn't noticed her when she was right behind them.

Hermione stood still, wondering what to do. Should she leave them alone? Or should she confront them? Her presence must've finally been known to the person, since they immediately turned their head towards her and stood up.

She couldn't believe it. It was a familiar face, but why on Earth would he be here?

He smiled at her, happy to know that she was there. She was still shocked and confused, but was equally content to finally see him again.

"Hermione."

That was all it took before she burst into tears, and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. He didn't seem to have minded that her tears were soaking up a part of his shirt, and remained calm for her. When her crying had finally lessened down, he pulled apart, giving her a reassuring smile.

"It's alright, Hermione. We're all in a better place," he said as he gave her another quick hug.

She was filled with confusion, and had many questions to ask, but he spoke again.

"You'll be ok, Hermione. I promise that."

She wanted to hold onto him, but in a blink of an eye, Seamus was gone.

She had wanted to ask him what he had meant by what he said, but it was too late. Now, she didn't want to be left alone. The breeze seemed to have gotten a bit colder and stronger, and she wrapped herself with her arms, her mind elsewhere besides the weather.

She was still thinking about Seamus's appearance, when something else came into her view. She was sure it was another person, but they were standing very still, their back facing her. She came up behind them, knowing that they weren't aware that she was there, until she decided to tap softly on their shoulder.

They turned around, which made Hermione let out another small gasp. His face looked much different than before. His hair was tousled from the wind, he seemed to have bags under his eyes, and by the expression on his face, he didn't look well. She wondered what had caused him to be like this, and reached out her hand to touch his face, but he stepped away.

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze, but noticed the bunch of flowers that Hermione held in her other hand. He looked back up, hoping to receive some sort of explanation, but was surprised when she shoved the flowers in front of him, with a smile on her face. She had wanted to say, "This was for you", but she knew that no words were needed to be exchanged for him to know what she was saying.

He was hesitant, but slowly, he raised his hand to receive the flowers she wanted to hand to him. She was more than happy when he took it, and moved closer to give him a hug, when something stopped her. The flowers that were in his hand, were suddenly wilting and dying, and gradually turning into a rotten brown colour. She was surprised at this sight; it was as if the touch of his hand was poison to the flowers.

She looked up to meet his sad and confused gaze. She wanted to ask what that was about, but he interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

With that short message, Draco was gone. Just like Seamus.

She was alone once again. By now, the sky was getting cloudy, the birds were no longer singing, and the wind was very strong and cold. She closed her eyes and collapsed down on the ground, unable to process everything that had just happened. She wanted to cry, but she had nobody's shoulder to cry on.

When she opened her eyes, it was a totally different setting. She was no longer sitting on grass, but the cold, hard floor. She looked around, unfamiliar with the room she was in. She wanted to stand up, but was unable to move, as her whole body was filled with extreme pain. She decided it would be best if she sat for a while longer, but became bored and sleepy very quickly.

A sudden opening of the door in the room startled her. She looked on as the figure approached her closer and closer, until she fully recognized who she was staring at.

It was him again.

How could he have gone and left her behind, without an explanation? They continued on staring at each other, in such heavy and awkward silence. She was confused as to what they were both doing here, while he was figuring out what to say to her. She reached out her hand to him, wanting him to help her get up, and pull her into his arms.

But he looked away, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said in a weak voice.

However, she didn't want his apology. She wanted him; was that too much to ask for?

"I'm sorry," he said a bit louder, holding out his wand. "You must believe me when I say this is for your own good."

At this moment, she knew what he was going to do. She had no control, and instead, somehow remained calm. If this was the only way, then she would trust him on it.

He looked at her one more time, before saying those words he dreaded the most.

"Avada Kedavra."

A green jet of light emitted from his wand and onto Hermione's chest. She didn't scream out in pain, but only collapsed on the ground, gone forever. He fell down on the ground, and released all of the tears that were threatening to drop. He didn't want to do it, but he had to. It was for her.

Draco crawled towards Hermione's lifeless body, and wrapped his arms around her. One day, he promised, they would finally be together for all of eternity.

He was certain of that.

----

Groaning, Hermione finally managed to open her eyes only to find that she was still in the same place. She had vaguely remembered a body, and being hit against the wall by a woman. She was certain that the woman had probably taken the body away to another place, and she couldn't help but feel extremely lonely, having to deal with this alone. She didn't even get the chance to identify who the person was before they were taken away.

She had given up. She gave up the little hope she had left, and instead prepared herself for her fate. If there was nothing she could do, no form of escape, then she might as well have to deal with it.

A sound on the door, a few minutes later, disrupted her from her sobbing. She looked at the figure, who was standing by the door, but couldn't see who it was until they approached her. It wasn't the woman this time, it was a man and he looked very familiar. She just couldn't place who it was until they spoke.

"You're filthy."

She knew who that voice belonged to, but it couldn't be him, could it? It had been such a long time since she last saw him, but how would he know that she was here? But what would it matter anyway? She was just glad he was here to help her.

"You're here," she replied.

"You know who I am?"

"Draco," she softly whispered.

"You still remember."

"How could I forget?"

There was an awkward silence.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I don't have any strength to move – there's just too much pain throughout my body."

"Good."

She must've heard him wrong. He couldn't have said what she thought she heard, could he?

"G-good? How is being in pain good?"

"So that I know that you've been tortured enough, or not nearly."

What was he saying? Or more importantly, why was he saying these things?

"Are you going to h-help me?"

"Help?" Draco spoke the word as if he had never heard it before.

"I want to get out of here. Isn't there any way we could escape?"

"Why would you want to escape?"

She looked at him quizzically. "I'm being tortured by someone who I don't know. I don't know where I am, and I don't want to stay here," she paused, "do you know who I am?"

He didn't answer her, and instead remained silent with a cold, hard look on his face.

"My name, please say my name," she said as she moved closer to him, reaching out for his hand.

"Don't. Touch. Me," he demanded before he briskly walked away.

"Will you come back?" she managed to squeak out.

"Don't count on it."