Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters.
"Who is Charlotte Dunbar?"
The effects of Hermione's words were sudden and unexpected. Malfoy spun around and his trademark sneer had slid off his face. Crabbe and Goyle stopped flexing their muscles. All the Slytherins accompanying them, including Snape, turned to look at her with opened-mouthed awe. Malfoy and Snape were the first to recover, Snape looking at her with suspicion. Malfoy, however, said, "What did you say?" The reaction of the group unnerved Hermione slightly and she was unsure of whether she should continue. "Who is… who's Charlotte Dunbar?" she asked a little more quietly. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her and Pansy Parkinson looked at him hesitantly. "That's none of your business, you filthy little mudblood," Malfoy replied coldly. Hermione realized she had obviously hit a nerve within the group, especially in Malfoy. Malfoy gave her a glare and began to turn away from her. "How did she die?" Hermione asked, boldly. "Ms. Granger," Snape interrupted, "It is hardly appropriate to be asking Mr. Malfoy such questions." Hermione didn't acknowledge him. "It's just," she said, staring at Malfoy, "I don't think she's dead. I think she needs help, though." Malfoy shook his head. "You don't deserve to have Charlie's name grace your lips," he said bitterly, "Not that it's any of your business, but they found her body." Hermione pulled the article she tore from the Daily Prophet out of her pocket. "I know, I found this," she said holding it up, "But I still think something's up, there's something more behind this." Malfoy was giving her a look that clearly said 'Stay out it, you stupid girl.' Pansy took Malfoy's arm and began pulling him towards the Great Hall, but he tore his arm from her and stalked off past Hermione towards the dungeons. The Slytherins, all took one last sneering glance at her and filed into the Great Hall.
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Hermione cherished the times when it was her turn to patrol the castle late at night. Prefects kept an eye out for students who were out of bed past curfew and any disruptions inside the school. Hermione loved to be in the dark, alone with her thoughts. She thought about the day's events and the Slytherins' reactions. She had noticed Malfoy had used the name Charlie in reference to Charlotte Dunbar. That meant that he and the girl were close. Perhaps more than friends? Hermione wondered what kind of person would want to be friends with Malfoy, let alone more than friends. She must be really repulsive, Hermione thought, worse than Pansy. Not that she had looked repulsive in her picture.
Hermione sat on the marble steps; the day's exhaustion still clung to her. Her shift was almost over and she considered turning in early, but a part of her was dreading sleep. She knew she would have another dream and she was not looking forward to it.
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Draco Malfoy sat on the green common room couch, waiting for the clock to strike twelve so he could begin his patrol around the school. The only thought in his mind was, How did she know? Draco looked up when he heard a door open upstairs and watched Pansy Parkinson descend the girl's dormitory stairs. She curled up next to him and stroked his neck. Pansy's fawning over him had been going on for years and he had calmly endured it every year, even when he had been dating his neighbor, Charlotte. He had loved Charlotte and had given her the nickname of Charlie. She had loved the name. Whenever she introduced herself to people she would say, "Hi, my name's Charlotte, but my boyfriend calls me Charlie." Charlie never knew about Pansy. Malfoy never told her. He hadn't considered it cheating because he never reciprocated anything, but he hadn't told her so she wouldn't lose faith in him, so she didn't worry. "Draco? Are you okay?" Pansy whispered, "It's okay to mourn your sister, Draco." Malfoy looked at her then he took her hand off his neck and pushed her away. She knew Charlie wasn't his sister and in his mind, had just tainted Charlie's memory. She looked at him in shock. "Go back to bed, Pansy," he said quietly. "What? Draco, I was just trying-" Malfoy held up his hand. "Go back to bed," he said with a note of finality. Pansy left for her dormitory slowly, occasionally glancing back at him.
Draco stared into the fire, his eyes glazing over, his head filling with memories. He always felt like a different person with Charlie. She kept him in line over the summer. She never let him walk over her. That's what attracted him to her. He didn't have control of her like he controlled Pansy. He remembered walking around their neighborhood from noon to when the sky got dark. Just continuous circles for hours. Then, her father would call her in and give Draco a suspicious look and ask him where they had been. Charlie would tell him to stop giving Draco a hard time. Then, they would share a tender goodnight kiss. Every night during the summer he would kiss her and say "I'll see you in the morning." And in the morning he would wake up and look out his window and there she would be, smiling back at him out her bedroom window. Last summer, was the hardest summer of his life, especially the mornings, because he never saw her.
Draco checked his watch and sighed. It was time for a long night patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts.
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Draco was delighted when he couldn't find Hermione anywhere. That meant she had left her shift early. Prefects were supposed to check in with each other at the end and beginning of their shifts. He'd have to report her to Snape in the morning.
Severus Snape had known Charlie, too. Charlie came from a long line of Dark, Pureblooded, wizards, like many in their neighborhood. It was a circle of communication. Everyone from the old families knew each other. It was like a big family, everyone cared for each other. Everyone loved Charlie, even Snape. Everyone had been dismayed when her dead body was found, but no one more than Draco. Especially when the Dark Lord had taken the credit for her death.
Draco turned the corner, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, he tripped over something and he fell face first towards the ground. He cursed, rubbing his sore knees. He looked at the obstruction and cursed again. Granger had fallen asleep on her shift. He watched her, expecting her to wake up after being almost fallen on, but she continued to toss and turn like she was having a nightmare. She murmured something about not understanding and he smirked. "Please," she murmured, and Malfoy moved to wake her, but stopped when she said, "Just explain it to me Charlotte." Malfoy stared at her. "I'm trying to help you!" she shouted suddenly. Her eyes shot open and she blinked. "Charlotte?" she called into the darkness.
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Hermione blinked. "Charlotte?" she said into the darkness. Oh, I've waken up, she thought, slightly disappointed. This time she had come face to face with Charlotte; sort of. More like an essence of her. Hermione always came out of these dreams understanding less and less of the situation. She sat up and rubbed her head. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, were able to make out a figure sitting near her, not moving at all. However, she could hear the person's shallow breathing. "W-who's there?" she said, her voice quavering. "What do you know about Charlie?" Malfoy. She recognized his voice. It was different, however. It wasn't the same drawling voice she normally heard. It was choked and strained.
Draco was sitting quietly, watching her. She looked at him. He wanted to know. Maybe he would listen now. Hermione launched into her story, describing her dreams in great detail. His face showed no emotion as she told what she knew, when he spoke however, she could hear the sadness in his voice. "Charlie's alive? That can't be. How can it? Her body…" Hermione contemplated what she knew. "Do they know who killed her?" Hermione asked. Malfoy bowed his head and Hermione waited patiently for his answer. "He did… The Dark Lord." Hermione was surprised. Since when did Voldemort go around killing his own followers? As if he were reading Hermione's mind, Draco said, "She never approved of what any of us did. Sure, she associated with us, we were all like family, but she constantly begged us to follow the Light, especially when he came back. She always told us we would lose something, we never thought…" Malfoy trailed off.
Hermione tried to make sense of what she'd heard. It seemed to piece together well. Voldemort extinguished the last light in a pool of darkness. "What about her sister?" she asked. Malfoy shook his head. "No one's worried about Christina. She was so deep into the cause. She hated Charlie. Nobody believed her when she said Charlie would pay, we never thought she'd hurt her own blood." Malfoy sighed and then almost as if he were talking to himself he said, "But why contact Granger? Why not Severus?" Hermione watched his brow furrow in concentration and Hermione was struck by how attractive he was without the horrible sneer. "So you believe me?" Hermione said hopefully. As much as she despised Malfoy, she couldn't deal with this on her own. "No," Malfoy said finally. "What? Why not? How would I make this up?" Malfoy scowled at her. "Talking with dead people who haven't chosen to remain as a ghost is Dark magic and highly doubt you would posses that ability. Why would Charlie choose to seek your help?" he challenged. "I don't think she's dead Malfoy, and if she's not, she's not the saint you make her out to be. Invading a living person's mind from long distances, haunting them with dark images, without their permission is considered Dark magic," she retorted.
Suddenly, Malfoy was very close to her face. "Don't you dare insult Charlie in front of me," he snarled. He pushed her away from him and rose to his feet. She heard his footsteps echoing all the way down the corridor.
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What I said hadn't really been an insult, Hermione thought to herself Saturday morning, I was merely pointing it out. Hermione had decided she would spend her day in the library, so she could try to make sense of what was happening. She had had yet another dream. The dreams were becoming progressively darker and scarier. Even in her dream, she felt as if she could smell the stench of sweat and blood. She could hear the screams, as she sat alone in a dark, damp room. Could this be what Charlotte is enduring? Hermione questioned. Hermione was determined to save her, even if Malfoy didn't believe what was right in front of his pointed face.
When Hermione arrived, however, it seemed as if she would not be alone. Malfoy was there searching through books. She gazed at the titles: The Dream Decoder, Occlumency From A Distance: Illegal or No, Scholar's Magic Atlas, Dark Images: Nightmares to Visions, Messages from the Heavens. Hermione smirked. "So you do believe me?" Hermione asked, announcing her presence. Malfoy snapped his book shut. He sneered at her and said, "I can't take the chance that you really are telling the truth… If you are, I need to find her."
"Are you going to let me help you?"
"I don't need your help."
"Yes, you do!" Hermione snapped indignantly, "I'm the one having the dreams!"
"I still don't understand that," Malfoy said coolly.
"Well," Hermione said, "If you don't want my help, fine. But I don't think you'll get very far without the information I learned last night."
"What are you on about, Granger?"
"You don't want my help, remember?"
Malfoy sighed. "Fine, you can help, but not a word to anyone about what we're doing, not even Potty and Weasel." Hermione ignored Malfoy's insult on her friends and sat next to him at a library table.
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Two hours later, Hermione was frustrated. They hadn't found anything to explain Hermione's dreams/vision and Malfoy couldn't refrain from making several wisecracks about Harry, or Ron, or Gryffindors in general. Finally, she had told Malfoy she was done for the day. She just couldn't stand to be alone with him for another minute. She made her way up to the Gryffindor common room and sat down on the floor with Harry and Ron who were playing a game of Wizard's Chess. "Hey Hermione, where have you been?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed. "At the library, doing homework." Ron nodded, acting as if he was interested, but he was really absorbed in his chess game. "After this game, let's go down for lunch," Hermione said, her stomach grumbling. "Sure thing," Harry replied.
Hermione was staring up at the ceiling, when she heard a crash from the chessboard. She looked down and saw Ron's knight being dragged off the playing board. "I had to sacrifice him," Ron explained, "to get to Harry's queen." Suddenly, Hermione didn't feel so hungry. "Sacrifice," she thought aloud. "Yeah, I had to get rid of him, to get something better." Hermione jumped up. "Oh, Ron, you're brilliant!" she said excitedly and Ron's ears went red. "Oh, well, thanks Hermione," he replied. Hermione didn't reply, as she was speeding out the portrait hole, around corners, down corridors, and into the library. Malfoy was still there taking notes from a book, when Hermione collapsed into a chair
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Draco looked up at Hermione when she collapsed into the chair across from him. "Back already, Granger?" he asked smugly, "Just couldn't get enough of me, could you?" He grinned when she returned his smirk with a glare. But her glare didn't last long. Instead, she smiled. "What did Christina look like?" she asked. Draco stared at her. "Why?"
"Just tell me. Did she look like Charlotte?" Draco shrugged. He hadn't known Christina that well. She had mostly kept to herself. Charlie had shown him pictures, however, and had been surprised to find that they were identical… almost. Being Charlie's boyfriend, he had seen distinguishing marks on his girlfriend most people didn't. "They were identical. Why?" Hermione grinned wider. "I think," she began slowly, "that there was a mix up. I think they buried Christina's body, not Charlotte's. Charlotte's alive." Draco thought about this. "You're making this too complicated. Why would the Dark Lord kill Christina? She would follow him till the death. He killed Charlotte because she wouldn't." Hermione's grin slid off her face. "If he killed Charlotte then why is she alive?" Draco shook his head and said, "She's not alive, Hermione."
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"If you're so certain that she's dead, why are you helping me?" she shouted. She didn't realize that he'd called her Hermione, until five minutes later. They both had their head in books, fuming at each other. Hermione slowly looked up from her book and was surprised to find him staring at her. "You called me Hermione," she said quietly. Malfoy nodded. "She told me she was alive," she said, "I know she is." Hermione described her dream she had had the night before. She expected to see some kind of emotion pass his face as she described the horrors his girlfriend had presumably been enduring, but his face remained blank. After all the emotion he had shown the night before, when they met in the hall, it surprised her. "I think Voldemort lied. ("Don't say his name," Malfoy hissed.) I don't think he killed her. She's alive; I just don't know why he would kill his own follower and not Charlotte. It's not logical… or maybe he doesn't have anything to do with this at all."
Malfoy cast her a confused look. Hermione shook her head. She was confused too…
A/N: I'd like to thank my one reviewer, Danish Pastry for taking the time to leave me a review. You don't know how much it means to me! Thanks for reading!