Chapter Four

Hermione found things between Draco and her much more bearable over the next couple of month. A fragile alliance between them seemed to have sprung up. They didn't yell at each other, much, and in the sanctuary of their common room they even went as far as to be civil to each other.

Even the sleeping arrangements became bearable, while still not preferable; Hermione found that Draco was alright when he was sleeping. She'd given up her morning ritual and was finding that the sore throat that she'd had at the start of term had gone away. Yes, Hermione Gra…, sorry, Hermione Malfoy was sleeping much better.

Mr. Harry Potter on the other hand was not sleeping well, even though he didn't marry his worst enemy; Harry found that every night he was having very vivid nightmares. They were getting worse and every time he woke up screaming he would wake everyone else in his dorm. Ron had suggested that Harry go to Madam Promfrey and ask for a dreamless sleep potion; the rest of Harry's dorm liked that idea. Harry had so far not done so and as such was becoming very unpopular with Neville, Dean and Seamus.

About three weeks before Halloween Harry had a particularly vivid dream.

He could see Voldemort's face staring down at him.

"Well, well, well," the Dark Lord laughed at Harry, "What have we got here?"

Harry felt nauseated by the mere sight of the evil snake-like creature; he also felt a surge of hatred, and he wanted to kill the evil bastard. But when Harry tried to move he found himself restrained; someone was holding him back. He looked behind him and found he was looking at Wormtail, his pointed rat-like face bent in servitude.

Harry found himself yelling, "You fucking assholes, you low down scum of the earth! I will kill you both; I will rip out your beating heart and ram it down your throat! I will…"

Voldemort's cruel cold laughter filled the room. Harry's defiance seemed to amuse him. "You don't seem to be in a position to do anything of the sort, Harry." Voldemort used the boy's name just to anger Harry even more. To be honest, it worked.

"You fucking half-blood!" Harry broke free of Wormtail's grasp and lunged at Voldemort.

"Crucio!" Voldemort yelled.

Harry plunged to the floor, twitching, the pain of the curse running through his blood as though it were on fire. It lasted ages; the pain in his scar burned like white-hot flame.

"Never call me that." Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue.

"What?" Harry stupidly hissed back, "Ashamed of what you are? Are you ashamed that you are that which you so feverishly hunt and kill?"

"Silence!"

"You plan on ridding the world of half-bloods and muggle-borns, does that mean you'll kill yourself when you're done?

"I told you to be silent."

But Harry continued, "If you are, then kill yourself first; you'd be doing everyone a favour. Fucking hypocrite."

"Silence!" Voldemort yelled, "Crucio!"

The white hot pain shot trough Harry's body once again, this time much worse.

Harry suddenly found himself sitting up in the dark, sweat running in beads down his face. The pain in his body was beginning to subside, but his scar still burnt fiercely.

"Put a sock in it, Harry." Came an angry voice from somewhere in the gloom.

Harry looked around in confusion, where was Voldemort?

"You ok, Harry?" The hangings around Harry's bed were pulled back and Ron's head peered in.

"Yeah I'll be right." Harry wiped his brow and then had to dry his hand on his shirt. (AN: Teenage boys, so gross.)

"No you won't, Harry." Ron pulled back the hangings around the bed, "You are coming with me to Madam Pomfrey right now for some dreamless sleep potion."

Three cheers emanated from three of the beds about the room.

"But Ron, it's the middle of the night." Harry protested.

"GO!" Neville bounced out of bed and pushed both Harry and Ron out of the room, "and don't some back until you have that potion or you have lost your voice."

Ronald laughed as the door to the dorm slammed shut. Harry wore a shocked look on his face, "Didn't know Neville had it in him."

"You have been keeping everyone up at night, Harry." Ron crept softly down the stairs.

"But I'm the one having the nightmares; it's worse for me, surely." Harry complained.

Ron gave him an I-know-best look, "Which would make one think that you would want the dreamless sleep potion more than anyone else."

Harry gave Ron a grumpy look, "You're beginning to turn all proper on me, mate."

"No, I just want a good night's sleep." Ron pushed open the portrait.

Harry followed Ron through the halls of the castle; they hadn't brought the invisibility cloak but they didn't really need it: going to see Madam Pomfrey was a valid reason for being up at night, even in Snape's book.

They had been walking for about five minutes when they spotted a light up ahead, it appeared to be a shining orb of light that moved and danced about in front of them.

"What's that?" asked Ron after they had been looking at it for a while.

"I have no idea." Harry replied lazily, he kept his eyes on the shiny orb, "but it's very pretty."

"Yeah, pretty." Ron muttered stupidly.

The orb danced about a bit more, enticing the two late-night wanderers. Then it began to move away from them.

"Where's it going?" Harry asked, watching it move slowly away, it left him with a feeling of loss to see it go.

"Don't know." Ron watched, transfixed.

"Let's follow it." Harry suggested, taking several steps after it. He immediately felt self-gratification, an inner peace if you will.

"Ok." Ron began to follow after Harry and the orb.

The two boys followed the glowing orb in a trance-like state. Harry had never felt so at peace with the world just watching the little orb dance about in front of him. Ron had a goofy smile on his face as he wandered happily after the artefact. However Ron found that he had a little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong; there was something completely and totally wrong with following an orb about the school.

Harry didn't seem to notice, he blissfully followed the dear little orb as it floated up the stairs. Ron began to slip back into his trance like state, shutting up the voice in the back of his head. How could something so beautiful be dangerous?

Harry stepped through the archway at the top of the staircase; the orb beckoned him forward, begging him to come closer. Ron followed Harry, the cool night air whipped around him; somehow he managed to tear his gaze away from the orb to look around at where he was. The stars shone brightly in the night sky above his head, they were at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry still didn't seemed to have noticed and was still walking towards the orb which was now hanging in the air a meter or two from the edge.

Ron's head suddenly felt miraculously clear, "Harry?" he called.

Harry slowed down a little but kept walking, "What is it Ron?"

"You're walking towards the edge of the Astronomy tower; if you keep going you'll fall." Ron pointed out thinking that Harry would stop.

"That's nice." Harry's voice was soft and floaty, under better circumstances Ron might have teased that he sounded just like Professor Trelawney.

"Harry, you have to stop now." Ron's words were soft; he was slipping back into the trance now that he could once again see the little orb.

He took a step forward with Harry, "Harry, we have to stop." Ron tried again weakly.

Harry didn't seem to be listening anymore; he walked closer to the edge… he was about to step off and fall. Ron watched as his friend lifted his foot in slow-motion and placed it on thin air.

"Harry!" Ron dashed forward and pulled Harry away from the ledge by the back of his pyjamas, causing them both to topple backwards onto the cold stone. The little orb disappeared from sight.

"What?" Harry looked around dumbly, "What's going on, Ron?"

"You were just about to walk off of the Astronomy tower and take a short-cut to the ground."

"What? Why?" Harry looked at the edge of the tower with suspicion.

"It was that bloody orb thing," Ron glared at the space where it had last been, "it must have Veela magic."

"Veela magic?" Harry looked at Ron disbelievingly.

Ron felt a little defensive at that comment, "Well that's what it felt like to me."

"Yeah ok Ron," Harry pulled himself up. "Let's just go back to bed. We'll ask Hermione about it in the morning."

"We're not going to bed until we fetch that Dreamless sleep potion for you." Ron grabbed Harry's hand and pulled himself up, "Those boys will kill me if we don't get that potion."

"It's not that bad, is it?" Harry looked at Ron nervously.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, "Sorry mate, but it is."

The two boys walked down the staircase, the orb suspiciously pushed from their thoughts.

Hermione sat in one of the chairs by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. She found that she hadn't been spending as much time as she had planned to in here with her friends. Most nights she could be found in the magical commonroom she shared with Malfoy. True to form neither party had brought anyone to visit and most nights they sat in there in peaceful silence.

Still, tonight Hermione had decided to spend some time with Harry and Ron. They were talking about Harry's nightmares. Ron had a theory about them having the usual connection to Voldemort that Harry's usual dreams had but Harry was insisting that they were nothing more than bad dreams.

"When the dreams are truly connected to him they are things that are happening, or things that he wants me to see." Harry explained, "The one last night was just a simple confrontation between him and I. I doubt that he wanted me to see myself yelling at him that he was a half-blood."

"How do you manage it Harry?" Ron slumped back into his seat, "Most people can't even say his name with out flinching and you insult him to his face."

"It was a dream, Ron." Harry brushed the comment off.

"Yeah, well he mustn't have taken it too well because you woke up screaming." Ron steered the conversation back onto its original path.

"Yeah, then you two left, thank goodness, to fetch that dreamless sleep potion." Neville interjected as he reached for a book on the coffee table in front of the trio. "Took longer that I thought it would, too: you were gone for ages,"

"We were?" Harry asked scratching his head.

"Hey, yeah. That's right; we were going to the infirmary when we were distracted by that orb thing." Ron sat up in his seat.

"We were?" Harry looked at Ron, puzzled.

"Yeah, you almost walked off the top of the Astronomy tower, remember?" Ron looked at Harry waving his hand about as if it would help him remember clearer.

"What?" Hermione sat up straight in her seat, "You nearly walked off the Astronomy tower and you didn't feel I ought to know?"

"Didn't really remember," Harry shrugged it off, "anyway it's not really important."

"Yes it is!" Hermione sounded like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It is?" Harry looked at her confused.

"Yes!" Hermione stressed, "Nearly being lured to your death certainly counts as an important thing to tell your friend."

"So why didn't it seem to matter five minutes ago?" Harry asked.

"Maybe it had something to do with the Veela magic on it." Ron suggested.

Hermione looked at Ronald, "Veela magic?"

"That's what it felt like, ok? When you look at a Veela you forget everything else and you just want to do whatever that thing wants you to. The orb thing had that kind of effect." Ron defended himself.

"That sounds really worrying, guys." Hermione looked between the two boys, "I doubt that it's Veela magic, though: that works differently. Unless you felt you wanted to impress it, to show off to make it like you, then it would probably be something else."

"Well it was the most similar thing to what I felt last night," Ron grumbled, "It even required you to maintain eye contact with it to work; when I looked away I felt its effects lessen on me."

"Yes, alright Ron." Hermione nearly snapped, "Whatever it was we should probably tell the Professor Dumbledore about it."

"Oh you're probably right." Harry sighed; he always felt like he was constantly having to run off to the headmaster for one thing or another.

Two hours later the trio could be found walking back from the headmaster's office. They had spent considerable time discussing the matter with Dumbledore and although it was evident that he cared, or rather valued their opinions, he didn't want them to become involved. He had explained that while Voldemort was still at large it would be dangerous for Harry to become mixed up in anything that didn't concern him.

Harry had argued that having nearly fallen to his death as a result of an encounter with the orb; he felt that he was already included in it. The headmaster's opinion of the matter was different and he had asked Harry not to investigate the matter further. Both Ron and Hermione were reasonably content to accept this verdict, although Hermione silently planned to do some research in the library later on to see what she could find out about the device.

Harry spent most of the trip back to Gryffindor tower complaining about people mothering him.

"It's not fair!" He complained, "I have every right to investigate this as he does."

"Harry, he's just looking out for you." Hermione reasoned.

"But I don't need looking out for."

"Like you didn't need me to pull you back from the edge last night?" Ron sided with Hermione.

"That was different," Harry grumbled, "I didn't know what I was up against."

"That's not a very good excuse, Harry." Hermione sighed, "You are the fate of the entire wizarding world, it is you who has to defeat Voldemort; they are only making sure that you don't fail your task by falling off a tower."

"Look, it has to be Voldemort that kills me, or I have to kill him." Harry made reference to the prophecy, "Seeing as neither has happened yet, I am invulnerable to all else."

"What if Voldemort sent that thing here to lure you to your death; that might count as him killing you." Hermione tried.

"No." Harry replied simply.

"Well does the prophecy say anything about you falling into a coma or something similar that would make it really easy for Voldemort to kill you?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's flinch at the name. (AN: They are using that name so much during this conversation he must look like he's shivering.)

"No, it didn't." Harry sounded defeated.

"There now, see?" Hermione smiled victoriously, "You should do as Dumbledore requested: it's for your own good."

"Yeah, Harry," Ron felt he needed to say something, "you have been playing the role of the hero since our first year; give someone else a chance."

"Fine, I won't do anything stupid." Harry moaned, and then added quietly, "But I'm going to find out what that thing was."

Hermione left the boys before they reached the Gryffindor common room: it was late and she wanted to make a head start on the latest DADA essay. She slid down the slide into her common room and was pleased to find it empty. She didn't feel like coping with Draco at this point in time.

She fell down onto one of the cushions surrounding the campfire and with a wave of her wand a flame was lit. Hermione suddenly felt very relaxed and comfortable; all thoughts of doing her DADA homework were pushed from her mind as she sat watching the flame dance merrily.

She played with her wand for a bit, changing the colour of the flame with a simple charm she had found in one of the books that rested in the bough of a tree around the room. She changed the flame from yellow to orange to red and then on through some of the more interesting colours like blue, green, violet, she was even able to change the flame into a black flame.

As she played with the fire (AN: To all the kids at home: DON'T PLAY WITH FIRE!) she didn't notice someone walk up behind her. She waved her wand and the flame went a Slytherin green.

"Nice." Draco sat down next to her.

Hermione jumped, "Where did you come from?"

Draco looked at her for a second, "Your parents never had this conversation with you? Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much…"

"No need to be a total pain." Hermione turned back to the fire.

"You did ask." Draco smiled.

Hermione rolled his eyes, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Yes," Draco nodded, "But it is much more fun this way."

Hermione didn't even bother responding to him.

"So what has my lovely wife been up to?" Draco leaned back onto a cushion.

"Trying to forget she's your wife, lovely or otherwise." Hermione replied.

"Oh very funny." Draco rolled his eyes this time, not that Hermione saw him as she was facing away.

"So where have you been?" Hermione tried again.

"Went to the Slytherin common room." Draco shrugged, another gesture Hermione didn't see, "So what have you been up to?"

"Dealing with a Harry and Ron thing." Hermione gazed into the fire.

"Really? Do tell!" Draco shifted his position so that he was looking at Hermione, "Do spill."

"I am not going to tell you any of the problems that Harry and Ron are having." Hermione glared at Draco's eager face.

"Isn't the key to a successful marriage communication?" Draco pressed.

"This has nothing to do with our marriage." Hermione look resolute, "Anyway if I tell you you'll just tease them about it."

"Please?" Draco tried to do puppy dog eyes, "I swear on the head of my wife that I won't tell anyone or tease anyone in the 'Dream team' because of it."

"Hey! I'm your wife and I don't like you using my life as a promise."

"Yes, well I really want to know." Draco shifted closer to Hermione. He was so close Hermione could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. She shuddered, or maybe it was a shiver; either way.

"No." Hermione folded her arms and moved further away from Draco.

Draco moved in and wrapped his arms around her, "Come on, you know you want to tell me."

"Let go of me." Hermione squirmed about but Draco just pulled her closer.

"I'll let you go if you tell me." Draco's voice was muffled by her hair in his face.

"Bite me." Hermione wriggled, trying to break free from Draco's strong grasp. Hermione then felt a mild pain at the base of her neck.

"You bit me!" She shrieked.

"You did ask." Draco replied wickedly.

"You stupid pureblood twit!" Hermione tried to hit Draco, whom she was now sitting on, having been pulled in close. Needless to say the hit was very unsuccessful.

"Will you stop trying to get loose?" Draco tightened his grip, "If you keep wriggling like that on my lap, you're going to cause a reaction, if you know what I mean."

Hermione looked at him for a second deciphering the so-called hidden meaning in his words. She then decided to sit quite still.

"I thought you didn't like me." She looked at him closely as if trying to detect even the faintest trace of a lie.

"Who mentioned anything about liking people? I am a teenage boy and you are an attractive female." Draco looked straight into Hermione's eyes, "And you are wriggling about on my lap. Come to think of it, you don't have to stop."

"Oh my god! You did not just say that!" Hermione turned away from Draco and looked back into the fire, trying desperately to rid herself of the mental image that had just been conjured.

She could hear Draco laughing softly and snapped her head back around to face him, "You are going to let me go right now, before this gets any more wrong."

"Not until you tell me what I want to know." Draco replied calmly.

"Unhand me at once," Hermione was screaming loudly.

"Tell me what I want to know."

"It's none of your business."

"It involves you and you are my wife, which makes it my business."

"Don't give me that wife crap." Hermione tried to hit Draco again; this time she succeeded.

"Don't," Draco rolled Hermione onto the ground and positioned himself on top of her, "do," he leaned in close, "that."

Hermione's breath became shallow and fast, but for some strange reason she couldn't help but notice Draco's soft pink lips and how inviting she thought they were.

"Now, Mrs. Malfoy," Draco whispered into her ear, his body nearly pressed up against hers and he pinned her in place, "you are going to tell me what I want to know."

Hermione could smell him now that he was so close; his scent was intoxicating and she suddenly wanted nothing but to do what he asked.

"Ok." she whispered back softly.

Draco sat up, he was still pinning Hermione to the ground but she wasn't so trapped. She began to explain the whole story, what she had been told by Harry and Ron about the orb, the dreams that Harry had and because Draco knew nothing to little about it, the link between Harry's scar and Voldemort.

It was a long tale and at the end of it Hermione and Draco were sitting by the fire drinking hot cocoa that Draco had summoned.

"I think I have heard of an orb like that before." Draco thoughtfully sipped his drink.

"Really?" Hermione sounded surprised; after all, the headmaster had told them he didn't know what it was.

"Yes, there was something about an orb that did something like that in one of the books in the Manor's library." Draco stared hard into the fire trying to remember what was written in the book.

"Maybe it's here in the school library?" Hermione suggested.

Draco shook his head, "No, the book was a fairly heavy-on dark arts book; even the restricted section wouldn't have a book like that."

"What where you doing reading it, then?" Hermione looked at Draco suspiciously.

Draco looked up at Hermione, "Don't really remember any more; I think it was one father told me to read when I was younger."

"Is there anyway you can get the book here?" Hermione asked.

"I could write to my mother, ask her to send it." Draco pondered, "That is if I can remember the name. But by the sounds of it, it would be a little risky; my father and the other Death Eaters might have something to do with this. I'll have to ask mother to be discreet."

"Oh, ok then." Hermione smiled at Draco, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Draco smiled back, "Just don't tell Potter or Weasel that I helped in any way."

"Ok." Hermione leaned over, kissed Draco on the cheek and went to bed.

Draco stared into the fire, which was still green, thinking about the tingly feeling on the side of his face.

Draco wrote to his mother the next evening, having remembered the name of the book. It took three days for his mother to write back. The large eagle owl flew in to the hall and deposited a brown paper package and a letter onto the table in front of Draco. He ripped open the letter and read:

To Draco,

I managed to find the book you were after; it took a while as your father had it in his study. You should be careful, Draco: if this has something to do with Lucius you should stay away. I fear that this may have something to do with the DE and you know what your father is like with anything that involves them. Please return the book as soon as possible, no later than a day after you receive it because I'm afraid what your father might do if he finds it missing for too long.

From Narcissa.

Draco picked up the book, still wrapped up in paper and walked over to the Gryffindor table, momentarily forgetting that he and Hermione were not on public speaking terms.

"What do you want?" Harry glared up at Draco.

"I want a word with Granger." Draco drawled, putting on his usual act.

"Well she doesn't want a word with you." Ron stood up to fend Draco away.

"Well that's a shame because it is official head stuff." Draco smirked, "Follow me mudblood."

Hermione stood up to follow Draco out of the hall so that they could talk in private.

"Hermione!" Ron hissed, pulling her back down, "You're not going to listen to that creep are you?"

"Don't be silly Ron," Hermione smiled reassuringly at her friend, "If it is head business I don't have a lot of choice. I'm a big girl now; I can look after myself."

"That's not what I meant, Hermione." Ron mumbled to Harry.

Harry patted Ron on the back, "Don't worry, mate, you know 'Mione: if he tries anything she hex him into last week."

"But Harry, she didn't even put up a fuss." Ron huffed, "She didn't even object to him calling her mud... well you know."

"It's probably just a sign that he isn't having any effect on her anymore." Harry shrugged, "She's being mature and not rising to his baiting. He might even become bored of it if certain friends," he stared hard at Ron to drive his point home, "didn't get worked up for her."

"Fine," Ron rested his head on his arms in defeat, "I'll just ignore the ferret."

"Good." Harry went back to his breakfast.

Meanwhile…

"What is it, Draco?" Hermione looked curiously at the package in his hands.

"This is the book I was talking about." Draco ripped the paper off of the book; he then flicked through to the section he wanted. He placed it on a desk and scanned down the page. Hermione moved in close next to him so that she could read over his shoulder.

The orb of Pertraho is centuries old, created in the year of the founders. The dark magic which resides within the orb has a mysterious effect on those around it. It has been told that those whose gaze falls upon the orb feel a great sense of peace and tranquillity, like an anti-dementor, although this is not known for sure because few survive an encounter with the orb. The darkness that dwells within lures people to their death; those who become trapped within its field of power rarely regain control of their senses.

The orb is thought to have been destroyed in the 1500s, but there are scrolls which suggest that the wizard responsible for its destruction was ambushed by the minions of the Dark Lord at the time, Ignatius Malfoy, and the Destroyer's memory modified. The scrolls then tell that the orb was hidden away in a far off land, where the dragons roam. The exact location was lost when Ignatius was assassinated a year later.


There is little else known about the orb of Pertraho, it is believed that while Ignatius had the orb in his power he bewitched it so that only a member of his family could use it. This information, however, has no solid facts or evidence to back it up.

Hermione read the passage though four times to make sure that she understood it all.

"Your ancestor was a Dark Lord?" Hermione watched Malfoy's face closely to see any reaction.

"Yeah, there have been several, most of them low key. Ignatius Malfoy was something like my great, great, great, great, well a lot of greats, uncle. He was about the most powerful a Malfoy has ever become." Draco shrugged it off, "Since his demise my family has sought power in a different way: through the ministry. I think in the 1730's a Malfoy actually managed to become Minister of Magic for a year."

"Wow." Hermione looked back at the book. "Do you think I could borrow this to show Harry and Ron?"

"On two conditions," Draco picked up the book and held it close to prevent Hermione from just running off with it.

"And they are?" Hermione prompted.

"One, Scarhead and Weasel do not touch it." Draco looked at Hermione seriously, "Two, you return it to me by tonight; my mother took a chance in sending it to me and I want it back to her as quickly as possible."

"Deal." Hermione held her hands out for the large black book. Draco laid the book into her arms with great ceremony. Draco moved to the door and stopped when he felt Hermione's hand upon his arm.

"Thank you," she whispered and stood up on her tippee-toes to kiss him softly on the cheek. She then folded her hands over the book and left, glancing over her shoulder as she continued down the hall.

Draco touched his cheek; the tingly feeling from the night before was back. He was torn between rubbing his face to rid himself of the feeling and leaving it there. In the end he just let his hand fall and left for his first class.

Hermione sat between Harry and Ron at lunch; they had eaten quickly and were now in a quiet section of the library. Hermione had just shown the boys the book and was now copying out the passage so she'd have a copy when she gave the book back in a few hours time.

"I always knew that the whole Malfoy family were no-good… evil… vile… excuses for wizards." Ron slammed his fist into the table, "Probably were all Dark Lords, or followers of them."

"Now, Ron, you can't judge a while family on just a few people. You know that." Hermione's head stayed bent down in concentration as she spoke. "It is the individual that makes a person, not a family. True, the environment of an upbringing has a lot to do with how someone turns out; look at Sirius though: his whole family were dark supporters and he was one of the strongest supporters for the Order."

"Snuffles was different; an exception to the rule." Ron tried to regain the strength of his argument.

"Not so. Anyway, you only need one counter-example to disprove an argument." Hermione looked up with a victorious face; she'd won this one quite easily.

Ron looked miffed, but tried again nonetheless, "Since when have you been sticking up for the Ferret and his family?"

"I'm not," Hermione sighed, "I'm just trying to show that just because you come from a particular family, doesn't mean that you are like the rest of that family."

"That only applies to people who are not Malfoy's." Harry decided to help Ron out, "Anyone with the last name Malfoy is automatically an evil person."

Hermione glared at Harry and Ron; she didn't say anything but her last name was now Malfoy and their broad statement had unknowingly encompassed her.

"Oh, build a bridge and get over it," Ron rolled his eyes, "you just have to accept that on this one there is an exception. All Malfoy's are evil."

"Sure, Ron," Hermione's voice laced with malice, "you just go on thinking that. The world isn't all black and white, you know."

Harry searched for something to distract the others from the argument; Ron looked like he might change colour in a second. "Hey, Hermione where'd you find this book? It isn't a library book, is it?"

"No it's not," Hermione looked at the text still laid out on the table, "I borrowed it off Malfoy."

"You what?" Harry only just managed to stop himself from yelling out loudly, but the tone of voice was still there.

Hermione was forced to do some quick thinking, "Well he doesn't know about it. He left it in the common room and I happened to pick it up and flick through it. I found this and had to show you. I'm putting it back tonight; with a bit of luck, he won't even notice."

Harry looked at Hermione suspiciously, "You know, you have been acting very oddly in regards to Malfoy, Hermione. There isn't something going on is there?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, "Whatever do you mean, Harry?"

"You haven't actually become, heaven forbid, friends with him?" Harry asked, "You're not on speaking terms with him, are you?"

"Good gracious, Harry!" Hermione tried to hide that her breathing had only just returned to normal, "We have to talk for our head duties, we've managed to put aside most of the frivolous insults we used to call each other, but that doesn't mean that we are friends now. Don't be silly."

"Ok, I believe you." Harry smiled, "As long as you're not going insane."

Hermione felt the urge to go off into a spiel about being on speaking terms with a fellow student, regardless of who it was, did not constitute as insane, but she decided to hold her tongue. It might be a bit much to bring something like that into the conversation at this point. Anyway, the bell went for class and they all had to rush off.