A/N: Once again I would like to thank everyone who is reading, and especially those who are reviewing.

I really hope you all enjoy chapter seventeen and fingers crossed I will update the next chapter by the weekend.

Please review and give me your thoughts and comments.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Fate. Destiny. Inevitability. Three little words, which control everything. Some people believe that everything we do here on earth, every step we take and every word we utter is down to fate. They say our lives have been mapped out for us since before we were born, and we are merely put on earth as a pawn, which the Gods have created. If this is so, then everything is justifiable because it was meant to be.

As chance would have it, Lucius Malfoy laughed at such things. He believed such words should be bound to the fictional world of stories, only used for fairy tales and other such nonsense.

And so, as he strode purposefully towards the common room which he knew the girl would be in, his mind was consumed with only thoughts of death and evil. He flicked a strand of blond hair out of his eye and smirked to himself, as he looked down at his seventeen year old body.

He stopped abruptly in front of a large portrait of a mermaid; she was sitting on a rock, carefully brushing her long golden hair, "password please," she smiled up at Lucius. He nodded; inwardly cursing whichever idiot came up with the idea of portraits guarding the common rooms. Digging deep into his pockets, he managed to retrieve a small scrap of paper on which was written in an untidy scrawl, the password which one of his servants had previously discovered for him.

"Horsehead nebulae," he read out, and, had the mermaid been playing close attention, she would have noticed the corners of his mouth twitching slightly into somewhat of a smile, most probably with excitement or anticipation of the evil he was about to cause.

The mermaid nodded, and with one final smile towards the blond man, the portrait swung open, allowing Lucius Malfoy to take his first step into the common room.

"Draco!" Hermione called to him, and for a second Lucius almost forgot that it was him she was calling, "I've been so worried! You've been gone ages," she said, rushing up to him. "What did McGonagall say?"

Lucius looked at her confused, but tried to recover quickly; he had heard the mudblood was clever, and he could not afford for his cover to be blown, "we don't have time for that now," he said in an urgent voice, "we have to get out of here".

"What are you talking about, we're safe here!" she insisted.

"Come on," he whispered urgently, lifting his hand up to stroke her cheek. Lucius tried not to recede at the touch of a mudblood's skin; it disgusted him, however as always, he managed to hide his emotions. "Do you trust me?" he asked as gently as it were possible for the older Malfoy to sound, and held out his had to her.

Hermione did not take it. Not straight away. Instead she looked at him suspiciously; there was something different about him, something in his eyes; something cold and dark, and it scared her. And yet, she knew these thoughts were unjustifiable; they made no sense, for this was the boy her heart was bound to. She looked at the hand held out to her, and she hesitantly took it.

In a dark room, far away from Hogwarts castle, a certain blond boy awoke from his unconscious state. He slowly put a shaking hand to his head, in an attempt to lessen the pulsating pain whilst trying to recollect his thoughts. A look of horror distorted his features as his memory came back to him in pieces. He scrabbled around, attempting to stand on his feet, his thoughts solely on saving his love. Of course he did not know it yet, but the feeling in his heart was one of love and desperation. For he did love her, whether he would yet admit it to himself or not. Either way, it was this feeling, burning deep inside his heart, which gave him the strength to stand, and somehow, he managed to ignore the pain, which the curse had inflicted upon his body.

He dug his hand deep into his pocket, desperately praying to anyone who may be listening, that his wand would be there. It was not.

"Shit," he cursed loudly, and the word was echoed repeatedly around the empty, dungeon-like room. He looked around wildly, trying to think of how to get back to Hogwarts. The blond boy slowly limped over to the large mahogany door, which was locked with some sort of intricate padlock. He looked down at it, inwardly cursing and shouting profanities.

He knew how Lucius 's mind worked; the lock was designed in such a way that Draco would be able to work out how to open it, however not in time to save the girl. He punched the door angrily with his fist, however immediately regretted it as a burning sensation shot up his arm.

Blinking furiously, Draco forced himself to concentrate on the lock, which stood before him and Hermione.