In the weeks up until the Christmas Break, Hermione spent long hours in the library with Malfoy. That, along with schoolwork, and her Prefect duties had eaten up all her free time. "Hermione? Are you ready to go to Hogsmeade?" Ron said hovering over her shoulder. Hermione looked up from her textbook and gave her friend a tired smile "I just can't, Ron. I've got to finish this before break," she said, indicating her potions essay she was working on. "Come on, Hermione. It's the last time you'll have a chance to purchase Christmas gifts." Hermione sighed. The last thing on her mind was Christmas. She shook her head. "Sorry, Ron."

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The Hogwarts Express pulled out of Hogmeade station and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were settling down in an empty compartment. Hermione would be staying at The Order Headquarters for the holiday break. Malfoy was staying at Hogwarts in order to continue their research. Hermione had been surprised at his unrelenting determination. They had agreed that if he found anything of importance at the library, he would owl her and she would owl him if her dreams provided any new information.

For a while, Hermione stared out the compartment window while Ron and Harry talked Quidditch. "So Hermione… What's up with you and Malfoy?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up at her friends. Harry always has been the attentive one, she thought. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to arrange her face so it looked like one of confusion. "Come on, Hermione," Ron said, "You two have been spending a lot of time together. I mean, every morning you give these weird looks to each other, then during lunch, you two run off together to the library, and Ernie says that you two do your prefect duties together even if it means doing extra shifts." Had they really been that obvious? Hermione shrugged. "He didn't want me to tell you guys," she began, "but I'm tutoring him in Charms, he really needs catching up. He's dreadful, actually," she lied. Ron chuckled, but Harry looked concerned. "He hasn't been giving you a hard time, has he?" he said. Hermione brushed off his concern with a wave of her hand. "Of course not. He's actually not so terrible." Ron and Harry gave her skeptical looks.

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Christmas morning arrived and she heard a sharp knock on the door of the room she and Ginny shared. "Hurry up!" said an excited voice from behind the door, "Come on, Gin! Hermione! Presents!" Hermione shook her head, partly to shake away the sleep and partly at Ron's childish excitement. Ginny and Hermione dressed and went downstairs.

For the first time since they had been at number 12, Harry was smiling at her when she entered the kitchen. She couldn't blame him. Traces of Sirius were all around the house. "Morning," Harry said, handing her a piece of toast. Ron, Fred, and George were already gathered around the gifts eagerly motioning everyone over so they could begin opening their presents.

Harry watched everyone else open his or her gifts. Everyone tried to get him to open a present, but he refused, saying he'd open them later. Although, the group was disappointed, they accepted this excuse with understanding.

Just as everyone finished opening gifts a large, black owl tapped on the window. When Mr. Weasley opened the window, the owl soared in and dropped a package in Hermione's lap. It then flew back out the open window. "Well, dear, who is that from?" Mrs. Weasley asked, brightly. Hermione, however, paled. "Excuse me," she said, "I really don't feel well. Cramps." Hermione took her package and sped up the stairs. Ginny, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley all gave each other knowing and sympathizing looks. Had they not just seen what Harry and Ron had? She was trying to get away with showing everyone what her package was; yet they were all acting as if she were really sick. Harry stood and followed Hermione up the stairs.

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Hermione snapped the door shut behind her and sat on the bed. Looking at the package, she could immediately determine who had sent it to her. The Malfoy crest was stamped in the upper corner. She tore open the brown wrapping. She wondered why Malfoy would be sending her something. Maybe he had found something out. She opened the box and found a note and to her surprise a silver bracelet with emerald stones. She picked up the bracelet gingerly and slipped it onto her wrist. Hermione admired the way the stones shined; the way the bracelet complimented her wrist. She opened the note and read:

Hermione,

I just wanted to thank you for all your help. I was at Hogsmeade and I saw this… for some reason, I thought of you. Take it as a token of my appreciation.

Draco

Hermione looked up quickly when she heard her door open. She looked at Harry and quickly tried to stuff the note back in the box, but he took two strides and wrestled it from her grip. He read the note quickly. "What'd he give you?" he asked calmly. She held up her wrist. "Hermione, what's going on with you and Malfoy? The truth this time." Hermione sighed. "I told you Harry, I've been tutoring him in potions." Harry narrowed his eyes. "You said charms earlier."
"That too," she said quickly, but she knew she was caught. "Listen, Harry. Malfoy needs my help, but he asked me to keep it a secret, okay? I can't break my promise."
"What would you be helping him with that might compel him to buy you a gift, a very nice gift?"

Hermione shrugged. "I just can't tell you, Harry."

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Hermione made her way to the library, the holiday break over. Hermione hadn't seen Malfoy at lunch and assumed that he must be at the library. Harry hadn't talked much to her after the confrontation about Malfoy's gift. Hermione tried to act normal afterwards, but he just wouldn't seem to let it go. If Harry wanted to be that way, she thought to herself, then that was just fine with her.

Hermione entered the library quietly and immediately spotted Malfoy. He was hunched over a book. "You didn't have to get me anything, you know," she said to his back, "I mean, I didn't get you anything." Malfoy turned around and shrugged. "I thought it would be a nice thing to do." Since when did Malfoy do nice things? Hermione sat in the chair across from him. "Have you found anything out?" she asked. "Sure," he replied, "I've found out loads of stuff that isn't remotely related to what we're looking for. What about you? Any dreams that might be of help?" Hermione paused before she spoke. She had had plenty of dreams each more horrific than the next. It seemed to Hermione, that Charlotte was giving her a look into the world she was living. She was unsure what to tell Malfoy. Seeing her hesitation, Malfoy sat up straighter. "What? What's wrong?"
"Well," Hermione began, "It's really, really, awful, Draco. I think instead of telling you the graphic details, I should just tell you that we need to get her out of there, as quickly as we possibly can." She stood and went to the bookshelf, but she could feel Malfoy's eyes burning into her back. "They're hurting her, aren't they?" Hermione didn't answer. It was a question he already knew the answer to.

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Two girls sat in a dark, stone room. One girl had a rather mean scowl on her face, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the wall opposite her. The other had her knees pulled up to her, tearstains on her cheek, and was looking scared. "This is your fault," the grumpy looking one said. "I know," the other said softly. "Your lucky I have connections, Charlie, or else we'd really be in trouble." The grumpy one stood and began to pace the floor. "I don't want to be saved by your connections," Charlie replied nastily. "Fine then, I'll leave without you."

At that moment, a door at the front of the small room opened allowing in a great amount of light. The girl sitting on the floor squinted her eyes. All Charlie could see was a shadow standing in the doorway. "So… are you followers of the Dark Lord?" the shadow asked calmly. Charlie stood. "Absolutely not," she declared boldly. Her sister, however, shook her head. "I am, she is not. I would like to offer you my proof." The shadow chuckled, as if he didn't believe her. "Well go on then, show me." Christina pulled up her left sleeve revealing an ugly, black, mark on her wrist. Charlie couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust. The shadow tilted his head. "Well, then" he said, "Let me offer my apologies for this inconvenience Ms… erm-"

"Dunbar," Christina answered for him. The shadow looked up at Charlie, who was looking back at the both of them with defiance. "She's not coming," Christina said, "She does not follow the Dark Lord." The shadow nodded and allowed Christina to exit and snapped the door shut behind them. Charlie stared at the door in disbelief. Her sister had actually left her. Her courage quickly evaporated away. She rushed to the door; pounding on it she screamed, "Wait! Christina, don't leave me! Please, Christy! Let me out! Please, Christina! I'm your sister!" Charlie began to cry again. "Christina! Please, wait! I'm your sister!" she sobbed. She screamed and shouted until her throat was raw and dry. Slowly, she slid onto the floor, defeated and tired.

A long time later, the door opened again. This time the man came in, shutting the door behind him. He stood in front of Charlie's huddled body. He extended his hand out to her. Charlie looked at it uncertainly. "Come now, I don't bite." It was definitely the same man that had come in earlier. She could recognize his voice, even now, when it was filled with friendliness. Hesitantly, she reached up and she was quickly pulled to her feet. "That was an awfully horrible thing your sister did, just leaving you like that," the man said. Now that Charlie was up on her feet she could get an adequate look at her captor. He was at least six inches taller than her and had shaggy, curly, dark hair. He was looking at her through piercing gray eyes. "But you needn't worry," the man continued, "I have taken care of her." The way the man uttered those last few words made her hair stand up on her neck. "Who in their right mind would really follow Voldemort?" He spat the name like it left a fowl taste in his mouth. He smiled at her. "You're smart though, aren't you?" He placed his warm hand on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. His thumb moved along her jaw and then moved it, tracing it along her bottom lip. It sent shivers up her spine. Finally, she had enough sense to push herself away from him. She stumbled backwards slightly. The man chuckled. "I'm David," he said extending his hand again. Charlie didn't move. David nodded his head and came closer to her. He placed his hands on her hips and leaned in so close she could smell him. Suddenly, his lips were pressed firmly against hers. She shouted out and wriggled from his grip. He let her go. "That's okay," he said, "I'll be back." With that, he pulled open the door, once again flooding the room with light, but only for a moment. He left and the door clicked shut behind him. She could hear locks on the door clicking. Once again she was left in darkness…

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Hermione sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. The back of her shirt was wet with sweat and clung to her back. Her frizzy hair was damp and she decided it would be best to pull it back into a bun. She looked at her surroundings… she was in one of the unused dungeon classrooms. The blue couch she had been sleeping on looked so out of place in the darkness of the dungeons and she wondered how it had gotten there. She wondered how she had gotten there. She heard a groan from behind her. Hermione looked behind the back of the couch. A few feet away from her was Malfoy asleep on the stone floor, a book lay open next to him. She shut the book and knelt down next to him. She nudged him awake.
"Wha-? Oh, Hermione… you're awake." Hermione nodded and helped him sit up. "The floor is not the best place to take a nap," he muttered to himself. Hermione smiled at him and asked, "Why are we down here?" Both she and Malfoy stood. "Because it's cold," he replied, "You were sweating like crazy up in the library, so I brought you down here."
"Oh well," Hermione said, embarrassed, "Thank you… Did you transfigure that couch yourself?" Malfoy nodded.
"Impressive bit of magic isn't it? Not many sixth years can pull it off," he said pompously. Hermione just smirked at him.
"I had a good dream," he continued.
"Oh? About what?" Hermione asked. Draco gave her a sly grin and she giggled. He shook his head. "What? How come you won't tell me?" she asked, smiling. Draco shrugged, winking at her. She laughed again and she was suddenly aware of how natural it felt to be joking around with Draco Malfoy. "Tell me," she pressed. "It's kind of… a guy thing," he said with another sly grin. She blushed. "Oh, that kind of dream," she said looking away from him, trying to stifle her girlish giggles.
"Yeah," he said coming up behind her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You were in it," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. She spun to face him and was shocked to find something akin to desire in his eyes. "Draco, I-" He put his finger to her lips and said, "Shh." He moved towards her and she moved backwards until she reached the couch and could go no further. He leaned towards her. Hermione panicked and began to fall backward over the back of the couch with a shriek. She snatched the air, trying to grab hold of something to prevent her fall. Instead, she grabbed Malfoy, pulling him. He fell on top of her and their heads collided, leaving Hermione trying to blink away the white stars that had appeared. Hermione looked up at Malfoy who was straddled across her rubbing his head. "Merlin, Granger. What the hell is your prob-" The sly grin he had had earlier was beginning to slowly creep back onto his face (he seemed to realize the position they were in). He leaned close to her face. Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, but whether it was to push him away or pull him closer she couldn't remember. His lips were pressed gently against hers.

Suddenly, an image of Draco shirtless flashed before her eyes. She had no idea where it had come from, but she liked it. She moaned softly and she felt Draco's smile on her lips. His tongue traced her bottom lip. Surprising herself, she opened her mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth. Just as quickly as the first image had come, another scene came to her as if it had been there forever: Malfoy and a girl with long, dark hair were kissing next to a clear lake. Hermione gasped in surprise and Draco took it as a sign that she wanted him to continue his assault on her mouth. Every inch of her seemed to be burning with warmth and desire, but it was interrupted with yet another image: Draco and the same girl were in a wooded area dancing. The girl was in only a nightgown and Draco was holding her close, humming a soft, slow song. Hermione suddenly realized what she was seeing. These were Charlotte's memories. She pushed Draco off her. He looked at her with confusion, but she didn't bother to explain. She dashed out of the dungeons and headed for the Gryffindor common room.

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"Hermione?" Hermione was half way through the common room when she heard Harry's voice from the couch. She looked at him. "Yes, Harry?" He motioned her over and she sat next to him. "I wanted to apologize," he said, "for being in bad mood about Malfoy." He sighed. Hermione smiled at him. "Of course, Harry. It's forgotten." She gave him a sisterly hug and began to stand, but he obviously wasn't finished. "It's just that," he continued, "I really don't think you should get involved with him. I mean, there are plenty of guys in your own house, Hermione."
"What? Harry! I'm not involved with Malfoy," she lied. He gave her a disbelieving look. "He gave you an expensive bracelet. You're involved," he replied flatly. Hermione sighed. "You're right, Harry. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Hermione."

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When Hermione went down to breakfast, she felt more distraught then ever before. Her dreams had disturbed her greatly. After weeks of dreaming about Charlotte, she had dreamt about not getting her Charms essay in on time. After much thought, Hermione attributed Charlotte's absence to her own actions with Draco the night before. "Come on, Harry," Ron was saying, "You need to eat. You can't play well on an empty stomach." Hermione watched Ron urge Harry to eat, not bothering to eat anything herself. She glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco was watching her. He was looking for confirmation. Every morning, she would give him a slight nod, just so he knew Charlie was still alive, still sane enough to let Hermione into her thoughts. She shook her head slowly.

A/N: Hey everyone! Wow! Thank you so much for all your good reviews! They make me SO happy! Just to thank you all I've decided to give you a little bit of the next chapter. Please review!

A bit of Chapter 4

Hermione, wrapped snugly in a large coat and scarf, walked out to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school. "Granger!" She turned around, ignoring the fierce February wind and faced Draco. "What happened? No dreams? What does that mean?" he asked, slightly panicked. She looked at him in his Slytherin green Quidditch robes. "I think," she said, choosing her words carefully, "it means that she knows that we kissed, last night." Draco smirked. "She always was a jealous bitch."