Disclaimer: I have told you before, and I will tell you again: none of this (except the plot) is mine. So sorry.

A/N: Thanks for my first review, mz malfoy! My first review! Yay! Now, people, I like plurals, so if you'd like to make my review reviews, I will love you forever! Um … this chapters longer than the others, I think, but they will get progressively longer as the story continues and Draco finds himself in a Muggle city! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Well, please REVIEW people!

Chapter 4: Runaway Serpent

The next day passed in a blur for Draco, and before he knew it, it was Day Three of the Search and he was heading down to breakfast. He sank dully onto the bench between Goyle and Pansy.

'Morning Draco,' said Goyle, not even pausing in his eager quest to devour as much food as possible.

Draco didn't answer, instead choosing to try and eat some toast of his own. Try being the operative word; he just couldn't get enthusiastic about eating something that tasted like wet carpet. Not that he knew what wet carpet tasted like. He put the toast down, pushed his plate away, folded his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them. If they didn't find Hermione today, they'd chuck him into Azkaban, then they might figure out he didn't have anything to do with her disappearance. Oh well, he consoled himself, at least I might get to see Father again.

Perhaps if Draco was of lesser strength of mind, or if he had been brought up differently, then he might have broken down in tears under the injustice and pressure of it all: sixteen and a prime suspect for a kidnapping. Draco groaned. He was sure that if the hadn't found Hermione in two days of thorough searching, then she wouldn't be.

He lifted his head when he felt Pansy gently poking his arm.

'Look at Potter and the Weasley's,' she said scornfully, pointing to the doors of the Great Hall, 'I wonder what they want?'

Draco knew exactly what they wanted; they were watching him and when he looked up, they caught his eye, nodded towards the main staircase, and then stepped out of sight.

'Those three Gryffindorks really are acting oddly,' Pansy mused, shaking her head.

'Yeah,' said Draco, not really hearing her, ''scuse me, Pansy.' He stood up and made his way out of the hall.

No sooner had he stepped into the doorway, was he being grabbed and pulled to one side, so he was invisible to everyone in the Great Hall. This did nothing for his safety radar.

'Careful there, Potter,' Draco sneered, detaching his arm from Harry's hand.

But then Ron grabbed the front of his robes and pushed him up against the wall. Draco smirked, just to annoy them; he'd never felt less like smirking.

'My bread's not buttered that way, sorry Weasley.' Ron's ears glowed red and he released Draco immediately. Draco straightened his robes and glared back at Harry, Ron and Ginny. 'What now?' he said, almost conversationally, leaning casually against the wall.

'Today's Day Three,' said Ginny coldly.

'So,' Draco snapped, but his stomach had just clenched painfully. Why did the little Weasley have to remind him? Did she really think he'd forgotten? His whole future rested on today, how could he forget that?

'We know you have her,' Ginny continued, 'you can give her up now and we'll say we found her during the Search.'

'Right,' Draco looked at their hopeful faces, 'well, sorry to disappoint you lot, but I haven't got her!' He turned on his heel, walked past the Great Hall's doors, through the main doors and out into the chilly morning air.

He kept walking until he was well clear of the main doors, and then dropped onto a stone bench under a balcony. Draco sighed and put his head in his hands. Why did he have to threaten the stupid Mudblood? Why did he have to teach her a lesson? But the real question that was plaguing his mind was: if Hermione really had been kidnapped – and that was looking extremely likely – and he wasn't the culprit, then who was? Who had taken her and where was she?

Something was nagging at Draco, dancing on the edge of his memory, teasing him, but he just could grab it. He hit his hand against his head, hoping to remember, but it only succeeded in giving him a slight headache.

A minute later, people began poring out of the castle to search the grounds; Draco could see the main doors from where he was sitting. He watched as the people split themselves into groups and headed in different directions. Draco couldn't even begin to imagine how Potter and Weasley felt; he'd had a pretty good childhood, even if his father was a bit strict, and hadn't had to suffer any inner torment. Except, of course, those which his father was always springing on him; Lucius felt that Draco be prepared for anything anyone could ever throw at him, but they'd never done anything on being a suspect for a crime. Draco felt for his two enemies only what he would allow himself to feel, but he did feel for them, which is something he would never admit to anyone, especially them.

Feeling significantly worse than before, Draco stood up and joined the closest search party, a group of third-year Hufflepuffs. He supposed they'd heard about his "involvement" with Hermione's disappearance, because they were very nervous around him: when he glanced at one of the girls, she burst into tears. Her friend comforted her, while the boys glared at Draco accusingly.

'Don't you even think about kidnapping Lucy!' said one viciously. Draco stared at him, taken aback.

'What?' he said.

'We all know what you're like!' piped Lucy's friend. 'You just stay away from her!'

'I wasn't –'

'We all saw you looking at her!' snapped another boy. His hands were balled into fists. For some reason, Draco found this highly amusing.

'What are you going to do, beat me up?' he laughed. But he'd underestimated the boy.

The kid leapt on Draco, swiping him across his face. Draco fell backwards in shock, his face stinging.

'Jarred!' yelled Lucy, still crying. 'Don't!'

But Jarred wasn't listening; he fell back for a moment, then lunged again, this time punching Draco in the stomach. Now, it was usually against Draco's nature to beat someone a lot younger than him (and three years difference definitely came under that heading), but it was also against his nature to take a beating without defending himself. So he grabbed little, skinny Jarred's shoulders and pushed him away. Not roughly, but his strength wasn't what Jarred was used to. He fell to the ground, gasping as he was winded. But he staggered to his feet again, glaring at Draco, who raised his eyebrows.

'You know,' he said, 'you should have been in Slytherin; lots of determination, and nowhere to exercise your anger.' Apparently, he'd said the wrong thing.

'I'm – not – a – Slytherin!' yelled Jarred, dashing forward again. Draco stepped to one side and grabbed his shoulders again. He spun him around quickly, holding his arms behind his back. He tightened his grip, so there was no way Jarred was going anywhere.

'I never said you were, you little brat. No,' he sneered, 'you're a Hufflepuff. I can only imagine how proud of that you must be. Hold still.' He looked at the remaining Hufflepuffs over Jarred's head. 'Now, what gave you lot the idea I'd want to kidnap Lucy?'

'Oh my God!' squealed a girl, and she grabbed Lucy's arm. 'He knows your name; he's been studying you, Lucy! He really is going to kidnap you!' Lucy promptly started crying again. Draco rolled his eyes, feeling exasperated, but also scared. What if these kids went to Dumbledore and told him their little story? He'd be thrown in Azkaban for sure.

'I've been doing what now?' Draco said, still reeling over the fact they thought he'd been "studying" the girl. 'No, never mind. Ow –' Jarred had kicked backwards, his foot colliding with the side of Draco's shin. 'Stop it. Anyway, I know her name because that kid over there –' he nodded to the first boy, '– just said it!' The Hufflepuffs looked very sceptical. 'Look, I don't know who you've been talking to, but I'm not a kidnaper, OK? I never kidnapped Hermione Granger, and I wouldn't even if I felt like it. I don't like her; why would I kidnap her – I'd then be spending more time with her, wouldn't I?'

Jarred had stopped wriggling; the Hufflepuffs were looking at each other, as though they got what he was saying. With renewed hope in his chest, Draco loosened his grip on Jarred; big mistake. As soon as his arms were free, Jarred elbowed Draco in the groin, sending him to the ground in a moaning heap.

'Come on, let's get out of here,' Draco heard someone say, and after the sound of running footsteps he was alone again.

Draco didn't know how long he lay on the grass for. He stayed in his little ball, gulping breaths down as the pain in his groin began to subside. He didn't even realise he was crying. It wasn't the humiliation of being beaten up by a thirteen year-old that made the tears flow; it was the past three days in general. Everything had gone wrong for him the minute he woke up to the present moment. He just couldn't understand how things had gone so wrong. Then he remembered. Granger. If he ever got his hands on her, he'd kill her.

It was the absurdity of this thought that made him open his eyes and roll onto his back, feet on the ground, so his knees pointed towards the heavens. He was looking at a grey sky, which did nothing for his mood. As the thumping pain in his groin began to subside, Draco was thinking how he could possibly get out of this torture that had become his life: wherever he went, people had heard about the accusation (with the exception of Pansy, because she was too dumb to figure out what people were gossiping about), and treated him with filthy looks, spiteful words and he'd even caught sight of Terry Boot being physically restrained from throwing himself on Draco. But he'd only been attacked once, by that snotty little Hufflepuff.

The humiliation made his insides and face burn, but the memory made something else pound with remembered agony. He'd never known how much it hurt; Draco had led a very protective life, as Lucius had always told him to surround himself people bigger than he, so they could protect him. And it had never failed, until now.

Why is Dumbledore just sitting around, making us search the grounds? Draco thought furiously. Someone should be looking for her out there. He just wants to get me for something.

But one part of his thought struck him rather hard. Someone should be out there looking for her. Of course, the choice of person was logical; no one else would defend him, so Draco would have to do it himself. He'd go find Granger and clear his name.

Draco leapt to his feet, doubling over immediately, momentarily forgetting his earlier pain. Struggling to stand up again, Draco walked as fast as he could back towards the castle, making sure no one saw him. When he got to the entrance hall, he glanced around before running to the dungeon entrance, only stopping once he was in the dark break between two torches. He continued down through the dungeons of Hogwarts, his mind on preparations. He'd grab his broomstick, some clothes, nick down to the kitchens for some food and pumpkin juice, and then figure out where to go to search.

Draco looked up and found he'd reached the Wall, which hid the entry to the Slytherin common room. Briefly wondering how Potter and Weasley knew where it was, he spoke the password ('Iggly-boffin') and entered, looking around. He was, thankfully, the only person here, which he'd suspected as everyone was searching fruitlessly for Hermione. He dashed down to his dormitory, grabbed his backpack, chucked in a jumper, pulled his winter cloak on, seized his broomstick, and was back up in the common room before two minutes had passed. He double-checked to make sure no one was in the corridor before he slipped out and quickly made his way up to the entrance hall, adrenaline heaving through his body, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

When he got to the entrance hall, he forgot to check if the coast was clear, and had to dive into a broom cupboard to avoid a bunch of Gryffindor seventh-years.

'Bloody Gryffindors,' he muttered angrily, when, ten minutes later, he was hurrying down the corridor toward the kitchens. 'They're everywhere!'

He reached the picture of a bowl of fruit. He hesitated only a second before tickling the pear, which turned into a green doorhandle. He pushed it open and stepped inside, having seen it all before, but still wary; house elves weren't his favourite creatures and they didn't particularly like him either. A house elf stopped and looked at him with her big eyes.

'Can Topsy help sir?' squeaked the elf.

'Er, yeah,' said Draco, drawing himself up confidently. 'Yes, can I have three loaves of bread, six flagons of pumpkin juice –' he read off a list, which was immediately granted by the elves.

'Sir must be very hungry,' said another elf. Draco nodded, but didn't reply. He had enough to think about without worrying about nosy house elves. He also got some sweets, which wasn't initially on his mental list, but he couldn't resist.

He was turning to leave when a familiar voice said, 'Dobby needs another tea towel, Topsy.'

Draco wheeled around and came face to face with Dobby, his ex-elf.

'Dobby?' said Draco incredulously, not believing his eyes. Dobby himself spun around, saw Draco, let out a very high-pitched squeak and fell to the ground in a kind of bow.

'Good afternoon, Master Draco,' said Dobby, his voice shaking.

'I'm not your master anymore, Dobby,' said Draco coolly, 'so stop that ridiculous bowing.'

Dobby straightened up, his big eyes very bright.

'Yes, Dobby no longer belongs to the Malfoy's,' said Dobby. He was regarding Draco with cold eyes, but his gaze seemed to burn.

'Go on, Dobby,' said Draco impatiently, 'Get it over with; I know there's something you want to say to me.'

'Master Draco – Malfoy – has stolen Harry Potter's Hermy.'

Draco stared at him.

'I've stolen what, now?'

'Harry Potter's Hermy!'

'Yes, I heard you the first time, Dobby, but what is –'

'Harry Potter's friend Hermy!' squealed Dobby furiously. 'Hermy, the one who likes Dobby's freedom!'

Draco stared for a moment, then finally it clicked. Harry's friend Hermione. But what was with this Hermy business? He decided it best not to ask.

'I did not take anything of Harry Potter's, especially not Granger!' said Draco hotly, at the same time wondering how the elf could hear the rumours, being stuck down here. It did seem odd to meet Dobby here, of all places, but decided not to ask about that, either. 'I did not come down here to be accused of something I didn't do!' He turned around again and was walking back towards the door, when he felt something collide into him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Dobby glaring at him.

'What –'

But Dobby didn't answer, merely flinging himself on Draco again, drawing back his little fist – but Draco was not prepared to be beaten up again by something much smaller than him, especially an elf! He grabbed Dobby and spun him around, pushing him towards the other elves, who were all staring at him. The elf called Topsy grabbed Dobby to prevent him from launching another attack. The elf just glared furiously at Draco, who rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, shaking his head.

Twenty minutes later, Draco found himself standing on the Astronomy Tower, broomstick clutched in one hand, looking at the sky. He took a deep breath: it wasn't going to be easy, just throwing himself off the roof, but he had to do. He knew his Nimbus 2001 would not fail him, and he had to find Hermione; it was his life on the line … well, in a way it was.

Draco looked down at the grounds. He had to wait until no one was watching: he didn't want anyone to know he was gone for a few hours at least; he needed enough time to get away. Far below him, he could just make out Harry and Ron, on the border line of the Forbidden Forest. Smirking at the thought that he'd be the one to rescue Granger, he climbed onto the parapet that was right in front of him, put one leg over his broomstick, and kicked off, flying about ten feet into the air before levelling out and looking down. He'd only flown this high once before, and that was at his parent's estate. He could see people, but no longer knew who they were. He instead focused on the horizon … he checked his broom-compass … he lent forward slightly on his broom and shot forward, leaving Hogwarts' accusing students behind.