A/N: Thank you SO much to all my wonderful reviewers, because it is nice to know people are bothering to read my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Please review and tell me any thoughts and comments, as I do try and take all of them into account.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (I'm sure that comes as a great shock to all of you).

She just wanted someone to tell her it would be all right. She needed him to tell her everything would work out fine in the end. But that's the one thing he couldn't do. He wanted to, he even opened his mouth to try, but the words just wouldn't come out, because deep down he knew, that nothing would be the same again.

"What do you want me to say Granger?" he muttered.

"I just need to know that everything will be fine," She shrugged slowly.

He didn't know what to say. What could he say? But his silence said everything. His eyes told her all she needed to know; that her life, was now in the hands of time… her future already decided upon. For a second, anger burned within her, "I hate you," she muttered. He looked up at her, a look of confusion replacing his usually unreadable features, "I hate you!" she shouted it this time, more defiantly than before and making the blond boy flinch for a moment. "You couldn't care less if I live or die. This is all some game to you".

She turned and stormed out of his bedroom; had she stayed a while longer, she would have heard him mutter in a regretful voice, "No Granger, this is no game". And indeed it wasn't.

Draco let out a small breath he didn't know he had been holding. He had handled the situation badly and he knew it; she had come to him for help, she needed reassurance, and he had said nothing in return to help her.

It's just that, he couldn't bring himself to lie; or waste his time with meaningless reassurances. Life was complicated enough. What he needed was a moment to recollect his thoughts and try and find a way out of this huge mess. On the surface of it, it seemed simple… Hermione's ghost had come from the past, to stop him from committing a crime he would live to regret for all eternity. So, logically thinking, all he had to do was not kill the girl. However, deep down he knew that soon, there would be a choice to make; which would be anything but simple.

And how right he was.

As the blond boy sat on his bed, a pained expression distorted his usually calm features; his mind aflame with dark thoughts… thoughts of the future. And as he sat there, she watched him. She stood beside the bookshelf, calmly observing the boy as he tried to make sense of things. In a strange way, she was doing the same… making sense of things. Throughout her lifetime, she had hated him; his smallest habit became a major fault. The way his stormy grey eyes would flash dangerously whenever they argued, the way he spoke in such an arrogant manner… as though he though himself better than her, and the way he would look at her, as though in disgust. She hated it. And yet, mixed in with all the hatred and anger, there had been another feeling there too, one she was even now unable to decipher. But, it was this feeling that made her confident, that Draco Malfoy had depth. He had layers. And she was almost sure that within the icy caverns of his heart, there was perhaps a little flicker of tenderness.

Now that she was dead however, and as she studied him, she was sure of it. In life, she had thought him selfish and arrogant and perhaps even evil. Now she knew, that her feelings of hope for the boy were justified after all. Now, she could see, that he was merely alone on this great big planet. She was not trying to make excuses for his behaviour; instead she knew that Draco was not as bad as she had first thought.

He cared. Looking at him now, she could tell that he would do everything within his power to try and alter the path, which had already been mapped out for them.

The only problem: she didn't know it yet. Or at least her alive form didn't. Hermione Granger (of the present) still felt he was an arrogant bastard, so to speak; and despite the fact, that deep down, she believed that there was good even inside young Malfoy, she was apparently, not about to accept it. The ghost girl knew, that for Hermione to accept the blond boy, he would have to prove to her that he was good.

The boy, stood up abruptly, and without realising it, walked through the ghost girl towards the door. He stopped in his tracks for a second, having felt the ghost go through him, and he shivered. Draco turned around, and stared at the empty space in front of him, "I'm going for a walk," he muttered, "you can join me if you so wish". The girl thought for a moment, before slowly materialising in front of him. She gave a small nod of her head, before following him down to the common room and out of the portrait.

"Were you there for long?" he asked gently.

"A while," came her distant reply; as though her mind was still absorbed in her previous thoughts.

They walked in silence down to the entrance, and slowly crept out into the night, not caring in the slightest that he was breaking school rules. Draco enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere of the Hogwarts ground under the dark night sky, and, with only the light of the moon to guide them, they walked further away from the school.

"I hurt her feelings again," he muttered, referring back to Hermione.

"I know," she replied. It was strange, talking about herself as though she were a different person.

"I didn't mean to," he added, "I just didn't know what to say to her".

"She just needs someone to talk to," the ghost girl explained, "she doesn't want to tell Harry and Ron, she feels it would be putting pressure on them". Then, as though trying to justify further the girl's actions, the ghost added in a sad voice, "I was always like that; always thinking I could handle everything alone". She sighed.

"But why come to me?" he asked, "She hates me".

"You hold her destiny in you hands. You hold my destiny in your hands. Humans are forgiving creatures". And with these last words, the girl once again disappeared, leaving the blond boy alone with his thoughts. The darkness engulfed him, and yet, he didn't care; he found it almost soothing… the gentle breeze hitting against his face, the silence framing this moment as though it were a picture. For in that second, everything was perfect, serene and calm.

In that moment, he didn't know, that soon, very soon, his world would come crashing down around him.

When he got back, Draco was so tired, that he almost didn't notice the large elegant owl which had perched itself on the edge of his desk. It fluttered its wings annoyed with the lack of attention it was receiving from the boy. Draco skimmed his eyes over the large creature, recognising it immediately as his fathers; they say that pets resemble in subtle ways their master, and with nothing more than a quick glance at this owl, one could say this was a fine example of such a case. The owl was a large animal, and yet graceful in everyway; its eyes critical and its long brown feathers perfectly smooth and sleek against its curved body. Draco was convinced that his father had picked the creature because of its similar style to his own. It was both graceful and yet menacing; and Draco was sure it would sooner peck ones eye out than deliver letters.

Either way, he approached with care the large bird and detached the letter from its fearsome looking talon and opened it with only a brief moment of hesitation. Whilst he unfolded the letter, the owl eyed him silently as though it were analysing his expression. With care, he opened the piece of parchment and read:

Draco,

As your eighteenth birthday approaches, the Dark Lord grows eager to see you. We have spoken of this day and both of us knew it would come soon. It is time Draco for you to pledge your loyalty to our Lord. Do not fail me Draco. I will contact you again in one week.

LM.

And thus it was clear. The evil he had been waiting for was about to cause more havoc than he could ever had imagined. It had begun.