Draco stood, masked and cowled, in the circle of Deatheaters, staring blankly at the girl that lay curled and shivering on the floor in the centre of the group. She had been crying, earlier, but now she was still, staring wide eyed straight ahead of her, her mind gone.
Draco couldn't stop looking. He'd known this girl. Anna Faily, a Sixth year Ravenclaw. She'd even tutored him in Transfiguration, once. She was said to be the second smartest girl in the school, after the Mudblood.
Now, looking at her, Draco was trying to find something, anything. A reason why this was happening, a trace of the girl's former spirit. Anything. his stomach was churning and he felt like he was going to be sick. He'd bitten his tongue, earlier when they were cursing her, to stop himself calling out. To stop himself from saying a fatal word.
There weren't many people he identified with at Hogwarts, not many he felt connected to. It was a strange group, and none of them actually knew he cared about them at all. He couldn't give reason to his choices, they were just ones he couldn't stop himself from helping, from keeping an eye on. Anna Faily, of course was one. Ginny Weasley, another.
Hermione Granger, the third.
They were all girls, those he kept an eye on. He didn't know why; all of them had shown more than once that they were quite capable of taking care of themselves. More often than not, against him. Hermione had slapped him twice. The marks from Ginny's bat bogey hex had lasted three days. Anna had argued himself out of his point so he was defending hers before he had even realised what had happened. Hermione might be able to recite textbooks, but Anna…
Anna was lying, near dead, in front of him, victim to the same fate as Longbottom's parents, Alice and Frank. Her beautiful mind snapped like a dry twig.
Draco wasn't an idiot. He knew about the ritual Voldemort was preparing, and was pretty sure that Voldemort knew about 'his girls', because they together were the three sacrifices for the ritual. Redheaded Ginny Weasley, Blonde Anna, Brunette Hermione.
He wasn't going to let it happen, not in a zillion years.
"Draco, the honour is yours." Draco looked up and saw Voldemort staring at him, haughty victory apparent in the red eyes. But Draco was glad: Voldemort might think that killing Anna would hurt him, but leaving her alive, beautifully mindless, would be worse.
"My lord." Draco said, bowing. He turned his wand on Anna and took a deep breath. Goodbye Anna. "Avada Kedavra."
&
He arrived back in Hogwarts and immediately went through the shower. Anna's blood was still splattered on his hands, and he could taste his own in his mouth, making his stomach roil and rebel. When he was done, he dried himself off, redressed despite the late hour, and set off.
He arrived at the prefect dorms and let himself in, Head Boy giving him that privilege. Before long he was knocking on Ron Weasley's door. The Gryffindor Keeper opened it slowly, blinking blearily at the Slytherin.
"Malfoy? What the hell do you want?" Ron demanded, his voice lacking its usual rancor because of the late hour.
"I have to talk to you. You and Potter. Get him and come to the Head Suite. This is important, Weasley," Draco stressed, "About your sister and Granger. Just do it, please."
The please had shocked Ron almost more than anything and he grabbed a t-shirt and shoved his feet into shoes before following Draco down the stairs, pulling the t-shirt over his head.
"What is it?" He demanded.
"Just get Potter." Draco said shortly. "I'm only going to say this once. Get him, and don't, whatever you do, say a word to Ginny or Hermione." Ron nodded, pausing before he went to the Gryffindor dorms.
"You called them by their names." He said slowly.
"I did. Now go, we haven't got much time." Draco said flatly. Ron hurried off, and Draco returned to the Head Suite. It was damned lucky Weasley wasn't as paranoid as Potter, he thought as he climbed the stairs to the portrait gallery where the Head Suite was. Potter would have refused, thinking it was a trap.
Like Draco would willingly put Ginny or Hermione in danger. He had already lost one of them: Anna had been screaming in crucioed agony when he had arrived – that had been when he had nearly bitten through his tongue.
Not that Weasley or Potter knew that.
He stepped into the Head Suite, climbing the stairs that went to the Head Girls room and sticking his head around the door to check Hermione was still asleep. She looked like some sort of angel, her hair spread around her head, her face relaxed, her mind, for once, not actively thinking. The way her arm was thrown to the side, the hand hanging off the side of the bed. As he watched, she muttered something, pushing aside the covers as she twisted, her face contorting to a frown momentarily before relaxing again. Draco wondered what it was that made her frown, what she was dreaming of.
"Mr Malfoy, there are two Gryffindors at the door." The painting of one of the old Headmasters said stiffly. Draco nodded, closing Hermione's door softly and heading back down the stairs.
"Admit them, please."
"At this hour?" the headmaster protested.
"This is important." Draco said sternly. "It concerns the life of their friends. Admit them." The portrait swung open without another word, and Weasley and Potter stepped through, both looking sleep rumpled.
"What is it?" Potter demanded loudly. Draco held up his hand.
"Sh. Hermione's asleep and I'd like to keep it that way." He said quietly. Potter frowned, but Weasley stepped forward before Potter could say anything else.
"What's this about Ginny and Hermione being in danger?" He asked softly. Draco smiled swiftly in appreciation of Weasley's discretion. The whole school may think Potter was the smart one, the subtle one, but one only had to look more than once to see Weasley was, though perhaps not as smart in the book sense as Potter, but he was bright enough, and knew and observed a hell of a lot more than he put out.
"Voldemort…" Draco took a deep breath, realising he was signing his death warrant by saying this. But he wasn't going to watch Ginny and Hermione scream in agony, cry as deatheaters rape them and then mumble incessantly when their bright minds, the brightest of their age, snapped in two. "Voldemort is carrying out a ritual, one that will involve Hermione and Ginny's torture, rape and eventual insanity. You have to protect them. Don't let them be alone."
"How would you know?" Potter snapped, once again, too loudly. "I bet you're lying."
"Harry." Weasley said softly. "He probably is lying. But what if he isnt and we ignored him?" Weasley turned to Draco. "How do you know?" Draco met his eyes and pulled up his left sleeve, revealing the black tattoo on his forearm.
"I've been initiated for nearly four months." Draco said, not breaking eye contact with Ginny's brother. "I was called tonight, and when I arrived, the first of the sacrifices was just beginnging to be tortured. I stood there and watched her break. I'm not going to do it again."
"What was her name?" Potter demanded. Draco shifted his focus from hazel eyes to burning emerald.
"Anna Faily. Sixth year Ravenclaw, blonde, green eyes. She was in our Potions group. There wasn't anything I could do. But if you…you two can stop it happening again, can stop it being Hermione or Ginny who go through so much pain that their minds snap "
"Dumbledore will help." Potter said slowly. Draco shrugged.
"I don't care. Chances are I wont be around long enough to see anyway, Voldemort doesn't stand for traitors. Just…keep an eye on them, both, wont you?" Weasley nodded.
"Anna meant something to you, didn't she?" He asked slowly. Draco smiled slightly. Once again, Weasley saw what Potter hadnt, judging by Potter's confused expression.
"She did. Like Ginny and Hermione mean something to you." And me, he added silently. "Watch them. Tell Dumbledore if you have to. I don't know exactly when the next ritual is, but it will be within the next two weeks. Watch them." Weasley nodded, and Draco turned for his stairs. "Tell who you like, just not anything about me. Give me a chance to get some things sorted."
"You aren't going to die, Malfoy." Weasley said. "Not after this."
"I was always going to die, Weasely. Especially after this. Don't worry about me. Just keep the girls safe. Voldemort has a time limit for the completion of the three sacrifices. Keep them away from him for at least a month, and we may just avoid another apocalypse." He nodded sharply. "Goodnight."
And he left them staring up at his door.
&
"Hermione! Where are you going?" Harry skidded to a halt beside her and she turned to him, dropping her hand from the door handle.
"Down to Hogsmeade." She said with a frown. "Head girl, I can do that, remember?"
"I'll go with you." Harry said quickly. Hermione shook her head.
"No, you won't. You aren't allowed. Anyway, I have to meet Draco. He left me a really weird note. Nothing like his usual handwriting." She shrugged. "Still. How else did it end up on my bed this morning?"
"Let me see." Harry said urgently. Hermione laughed and gave him a gentle shove.
"No! Look, Harry, I don't know what's going on, but you and Ron have been taking turns shadowing me, don't think I haven't noticed, and it's getting irritating. But I need to go."
"You can't!" Harry said, grabbing her hand and yanking her back from the door, pulling her up towards the library. Not for the first time, Harry was thankful that he was a good deal taller and stronger than Hermione. She tried twisting her hand away, and failed.
"Harry, what the hell is going on?" She demanded. He shook his head, waiting until they were alone in one of the back corners of the library.
"Let me see the letter." He urged. Hermione rolled her eyes and fished it out of her pocket, handing it to him with a flourish.
"Can I go now?"
"No." Harry pushed her into a chair and stood over her, his eyes scanning the letter. She was right, he had only seen Malfoy's writing once or twice but this hasty scrawl definitely wasn't it. Malfoy's handwriting was like Hermione's, sharp, neat, and small. Nothing like this drunken spider's tango that was over the page, barely legible. "You can't go."
"What the hell is going on?" She demanded. Harry looked at her, then back at the letter, and once again, the Granger brain kicked into action. "You know something, don't you. Both you and Ron. And it involves Ginny, too, she was talking to me yesterday about how she couldn't get a moments privacy." Harry glanced at her again, and the look in her eyes was all she needed. She glanced out the window, and saw the black clouds heading for the castle. And now the weather looked too miserable to go to Hogsmeade anyway.
"It's not for me to tell." Harry said slowly, sitting down. Hermione pulled the letter back from him, looking over it again. Harry watched as she slowly withdrew her wand, bit her lip slightly, then tapped the paper sharply and muttered a spell he didn't recognise. But he saw its result.
From the paper rose the letters in twisting columns of blue-black smoke. They twined together, and slowly formed a face that neither student recognised.
"That's not Draco." Hermione said, setting down her wand and leaning her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "Well, for once, I'm glad you've been following me around. It's never good for the heroine in movies when she follows letters written by someone other than whom she had assumed it would be."
"And you're the heroine, are you?" Harry said with a grin. She sent him a sharp look.
"In the little adventure I almost had, yes, I am. So…do you recognise him?" she turned the paper around so Harry could see the face from the front, and he shook his head.
"No."
"Hmm." She tapped the letter again, and the face disappeared, the writing falling back on the page to reform the original letter. "What do we do now?"
"Talk to Ron." Harry picked up the letter and folded it into his pocket before grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her out of the library and up to the deserted Gryffindor common room. From there, though, they could hear the shouting.
"-your business, that's why!" Ginny had a loud voice, she got it from her mother.
"Since when has Malfoy written to you?" Came the answering bellow from Ron. Hermione and Harry exchanged a look, and Hermione ran lightly up the stairs towards the shouting. It stopped after a few seconds, and a minute later Hermione descended the stairs, Ginny and Ron on her tail.
"She got one too." Hermione told Harry.
"You got a letter from Draco?" Ginny asked, amazed.
"It's not from him. Watch." Hermione tapped the letter and on cue, the ink rose to form the same face that had hovered over her own letter. "See? It's not Draco. And these two," she turned on the hapless boys, "Have an idea what's going on. Since it's currently chucking it down, neither of us are going to Hogsmeade. So why don't you tell us what's happening."
"Sit." Ron said tiredly. The girls did so. "Malfoy came up to my room two weeks ago, and told me had to speak to me and Harry..."
&
He spoke halfway until halfway through dinner, and when he and Harry were done, the girls were staring gobsmacked at them.
"He said that?" Ginny whispered finally. "To save us? He hates us!"
"No he doesn't." Hermione said quietly. "He has to show he does, though. Two weeks ago, you said?" Harry nodded.
"Anna Faily disappeared then." She said. Harry nodded. "She was the first. We're second and third."
"Malfoy told us to watch you, not leave you alone. That's why we've been following you around so much." Harry explained. Hermione nodded, standing. "Where are you going?"
"I need to find him. To talk to him."
"You shouldn't go alone." Ron said, stepping forward. Hermione shook her head.
"I have to. I promise not to leave the castle." She turned and walked out before he had a chance to say anything further.
Hermione went straight to their common room and found it empty. The library was similar, and when she asked a first year Slytherin to check the Slytherin common room, he came up with the same answer. Hermione shrugged, and headed back to the Gryffindor common room, where Ron, Harry and Ginny were still talking.
"Harry." She said flatly. All three turned to face her. "I need the Marauders map. Please." He hesitated, then nodded, disappearing up the stairs to get it.
"What are you going to say to him?" Ginny asked. Hermione shrugged.
"I don't know. Thank you, maybe." Harry came back down, carrying the much-folded map. "I solemnly declare I am up to no good." She said, tapping it with her wand. The map opened and the castle blueprints spread across it. "Draco Malfoy." There was a pause as the map wiped itself clean again and redrew itself, the only name on the page on the astronomy tower. Hermione nodded swiftly. "Mischief managed." The map disappeared, and she barely paused to fold it before shoving it at Harry.
"It'll be dark. It isn't safe!" Ron protested. Hermione wasn't listening, her heart pounding as she ran out, barely managing to stop as the staircase moved away from her. She looked around, and headed for the long way. Longer, but with no moving staircases.
Finally she was there, but it was empty. She wheeled around, searching for him. All she could hear was the pounding of the rain on the glass dome, and she looked up, surprised to see moonlight through a break in the clouds, low on the horizon. Weird.
She turned around again. The map said he was here. So, where?
It was on her fourth rotation that she spotted the door set in the shadows, stood slightly ajar. She rushed through it, forcing her tired legs to climb the stairs, until she came to a landing with a ladder, and above her, a trap door. She pulled the ladder across the stone floor to underneath the trapdoor and climbed through, closing it carefully behind her. The rain and wind lashed at her immediately. But when she looked around, she took a deep breath of relief.
There he was.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again, watching him. They were at a stalemate, and Hermione didn't know what to do. What she hadn't told Harry was the way she had noticed Draco watching her, watching Ginny, and, now that she thought about it, watching Anna. The three of them never got any real crap from him anymore. And Hermione had noticed he had almost been helpful, to her, at least.
Living a double life couldn't be easy, Hermione thought. For that, at least, she admired him. And for going to Harry and Ron, too. Hermione took a deep breath, then stopped, understanding what he was going to do. She didn't know what to think, what to do. But she did know she didn't want him to die.
Not him. Not when there was so much he could do, for himself and for others.
But she didn't know what to say.
For once, Hermione Granger was speechless.
&