Bwahahahahaha! No ones reviewing and I am still writing! You're not going to get rid of me that easily, not today at least. Here's another chapter for anyone still hanging on if that's possible.

Stay With Me

Chapter 6

(Flashback still and also it is still the weekend, Sunday night in fact)

It was Sunday evening, at most of the student at Hogwarts were in the Great Hall dining. Hermione sat next to Ron and across from Harry; the two boys were talking about something to do with Professor Snape and stink bombs, again. Hermione on the other hand was watching the magical roof of the Hall. Clouds were clearing and revealing a velvety black night glimmering with stars that twinkled like diamonds against their richly dark background.

Draco Malfoy sat across the room chatting away with Crabbe and Goyle. He had been in a happier mood than usual all that day, to which Crabbe and Goyle seemed slightly confused, but it didn't cross their mind twice.

Having ended his conversation with the two people across the table from him, he turned his gaze over to the Gryffindor table, searching the two rows of benches for a certain girl. He caught her looking up at the roof, a fork in her hand dwindled on her plate, but not really moving. He wondered what she was thinking, whether she had been thinking about him lately. He hoped she noticed his kinder behaviour towards her, making it more apparent would not be easy as his reputation was at stake.

It wasn't that he still believed entirely in his father's ways, but lately Malfoy grew tired of them. He was never given the opportunity to think for himself or be independent. And he didn't entirely not believe in them either. He still thought a family with an important background such as his should hold some sort of prestigious air to them.

Draco finished his plate of food and headed back to his shared rooms. Hermione, across the room heard Harry and Ron Acknowledge his leaving,

"There goes Malfoy…"

"Let's stick a stink bomb in his soup too."

The boys laughed, Hermione frowned. She stood up, excused herself, and headed towards the Head quarters.

Draco reached his room and fell onto his bed. He doubted Hermione would be around for an hour at least, not until dinner had finished. He noticed his eagle owl perched on the back on the chair at the cleared dresser, a message clamped in its beak. Nodding to the bird, it flew over and nestled next to his neck as he tore open the envelope and began to read.

It was a message from his father to keep him updated on the current events concerning the Malfoys. Usually his father filled these letters with complaints about the Ministry of Magic, or Dumbledore, or something of the sort. Today, However, his father had something new to mention.

"Our brave and righteous Dark Lord has been telling me of his growing power. Soon he feels he will be strong enough to make another attack upon Potter, but this time he will make sure he wins.

There exists an old charm that has been lost for many centuries, more like a curse to bring upon your enemies. It is called 'The Curse of Mithreis'. It was an ancient spell that only the greatest warriors used to conjure up the most powerful weapon imaginable. A sword crafted by the ancient Gods of the Middle East, it can tear down an entire fleet of an army with one blow. This sword holds a certain mysterious magnitude of power, capable of beating even Potter's luck.

Our great Lord gave me the task of seeking this curse, but I saw open opportunity to drop a word in for you. You now have me to thank, for the Dark Lord has realised your intelligence and determination to please him. Now you have the challenge of rediscovering the spell he needs to obtain the Sword of Mithras.

I trust you will not disappoint our Master, and I hope even more that you shall not fail me or scar the Malfoy name…"

The rest of the letter went on about how if Draco failed he would be in more trouble imaginable.

Draco's mood suddenly took a turn for the worse. In frustration he tore the letter up and threw it at the wall across the room, however the little pieces of paper barely left his hand before they came flittering down on to his lap. Seeing this Draco groaned and threw his head back onto the pillow. He felt like he had no energy left, like he couldn't pick him self off the bed. Or maybe he felt like he had no hope left.

Eventually his pulled himself off his bed, a little shaky, and walked out of the room, all the way out of the castle.

Hermione returned to the Head common room to find Draco had most likely gone up to his room as usual. She felt a tinge of sadness, perhaps nothing much had changed between them. She looked around the room for any sign of his presence somewhere in their shared quarters, and her eyes caught sight of a book resting on an armchair near the bookcases.

She skipped over to it and picked it up to look at the cover. It was book on beasts, deadly dangerous ones. Hermione put the book down and looked through the other books piled on the shelves. Before she had always rushed passed them to go straight to her room, or straight out without having to bump into Draco.

Looking through the titles, she picked out one on the history of Hogsmeade, and then turned to find somewhere peaceful to read under the stars.

She walked all the way to the edge of the lake, this time no students were nearby. She settled herself down in the thick roots of a tree that emerged from under the ground. Lighting her wand, she began to read.

Draco marched out of the castle and looked around. Everything was dark except for over by the lake where fireflies buzzed around the water. He headed towards the hundreds of lights striding fast, his feet stomping on the grass in anger.

He reached the lake and noticed someone else curled up by the old tree. Draco walked over and peered through the tree's drooping branches. To his surprise it was Hermione, reading quietly and thoroughly absorbed in her book.

For a moment his anger was lifted, his heart pounded heavily in his chest. Unsure of what to do, he stood there and watched her feeling invisible to her. His thoughts wondered from her to his father and the expectations he had no choice to reach. Once again he was oppressed by his father's wishes. His eyes drifted to the water and its murky depths. On this night though, the surface shimmered with the light from the stars as if it were made of glass.

Hermione looked up from her book to rest from reading. Her eyes were starting to strain in the poor light. Draco all of a sudden took her aback, standing there almost next to her, his eyes fixed on the lake. A feeling of joy filled her body to see him, but she noticed a longing feeling on his face, a frown held his lips down and stole his eyes of any emotion.

Draco turned his head towards Hermione, expecting to find her still reading, but instead she was looking curiously at his face. She jumped back when his eyes fell into hers.

"I'm sorry- I, I didn't see you there-" she began stumbling over her words. Draco chuckled silently to himself, the frown momentarily reversing into a tired smile. He troubled his mind for something to say to her. An insult was always the easy option, but Draco felt strongly about presenting himself differently. Thinking of his father disheartened him; he was hopeless under the pressure to upkeep the family name, defeated by his father's striving.

Hermione fell silent and watched his face. His gaze was lost again, troubled by his own inner thoughts. And in the light that glowed around them, she saw the smallest tear gather at his eye and cascade down his face. Hermione opened her mouth, but stopped herself from gasping. She was now lost for words completely.

Draco realised he had let a tear slip and he slowly wiped it away with his sleeve. It was no use trying to hide it; no doubt Hermione had already seen it. He heard a mumble escape her lips,

"Oh…"

She held pity in her voice, pity for him. If this was not destroying the morals of the Malfoys then Draco didn't know what was. He had let a muggleborn see him showing emotion, he had even been polite to a muggleborn. He turned to look into her eyes before speaking any words.

"What are you doing out here? It's getting colder these nights." His voice trembled a little but didn't break. He spoke softly and with a frail hint of concern in his words.

Hermione found her voice again, her head still pounding with her chest,

"I came out to read, I guess I just lost count of the time…" Draco straightened his back and crossed his arms. He held his eyes on her. "Why are you here?" She asked kindly and gently.

Draco was unsure of what to reply; whether to say he was just walking, or he was troubled with his personal life… Was it right to let a muggleborn know of those Malfoy matters? Especially a muggleborn associated with Potter. If he let her know he was going to have to attempt to find the one thing that could destroy him then she would turn away from him.

"I couldn't sleep."

As much as he wanted to trust in her, he knew he couldn't without consequences he didn't want to know. Hermione saw something else in his eyes, something he wasn't letting out.

"Is something troubling you?" she asked, carefully selecting her words. Draco gave a huff, and looked down at his feet and thought for a moment before he looked back up at her.

"Would you aid a wounded dragon, even if it were about to harm someone such as Potter or Weasley?"

Hermione thought for a moment. It was a strange question to ask, and obviously he was somehow referring to himself. She chose her answer cautiously.

"I would help any wounded animal or beast for its injury, but not to allow them to harm anyone."

Draco thought on what she had said.

"Would you help a dragon to riddance of what had wounded it?" Hermione thought carefully again before she said,

"Would a dragon trust in me in the first place to let me get near?"

Draco froze for a second in awe at her. She really was as intelligent as she was praised for. She had hit him where he was avoiding; there was no point in going back on his words now.

"Are you staying out here for long?" He asked.

"I'm won't be leaving anytime soon."

Draco uncrossed his arms and walked over to her, settling himself down next to her. Hermione closed her book and fumbled with it between her hands. The two sat in silence, listening to the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Draco brought his hand from his hand and picked up the book she held tightly in her hands. He peered at the title in the little light from Hermione's lit want.

"'The History of Hogsmeade'" He opened the book and looked through the pages stopping at the bookstore Hermione had mentioned earlier, and read the page quickly. He continued searching through the book until he came to the Three Broomsticks. Hermione watched as he went through her book.

"When's the next Hogsmeade weekend?" Draco unexpectedly.

"In three weeks time." Draco thought about asking her to accompany him, but he faltered thinking she wouldn't accept. Besides, he had to research for his fathers dirty business. They both sat in silence for another hour. To Hermione he was a mystery, but to Draco she was his saviour. The silence gave him more comfort than she would have known. He continued through the book pausing every now and them to read something interesting.

Eventually he noticed Hermione had drifted quietly off to sleep. He leaned back into the tree and closed his eyes too, his mind filled swimming with both happy and sad thoughts, and finally, he fell asleep next to her.

Well I don't particularly like this chapter but something's got to fill the space. I don't want Draco and Hermione to suddenly be bestest friends à la Paris Hilton et Nicky what's-her-name. But I don't want to write 20 chapters before something interesting happens. Anywayz, I'll try and get some more closer moments in. Until later, byebye.