Title: The Trials of the Hidden

Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!

Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not TOO much, it gets really sappy)

Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on.

Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support?

Thank you so much for reviewing everybody! I was so surprised when I found my story on TWO favorites lists already! You don't know how much I appreciate the feedback. I apologize for the delay, I was so busy the

And now, individual review responses.

Slinky45: Thanks for trying to help me, I will learn this eventually. I am glad you like the story, and hoping you continue reading!

fifespice: I tried my best to update sooner, I just was so busy! Thanks for reading!

oliver1234: Lol, well I will try to type faster. And actually I said not TOO much sap...but there will be some sap, and I hope you will continue reading regardless!

badluck-ngprod: Thanks for reviewing! It's a scary thought to think that I have total control of a story...I will try to live up to the responsibility.

And my story takes place in AU, which means the 6th BOOK HASN'T HAPPENED.

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As Harry Potter dragged himself over to the Gryffindor table for breakfast, he couldn' t help but be grateful for his best friends. The Golden Trio had been (nearly) inseparable throughout their Hogwarts careers, and in times of dire peril, were lifesavers. Case in check: Today.

"Hide me!" Harry whispered desperately to Ron as he wound his way through the tables, crouching low. Professor McGonagall's prying gaze was drawing closer to his elusive form.

"Don't worry, mate! It's not like she still cares! Mind you, though, her face does look a bit puffy still..." Ron's loud words fell rather short of 'comforting', especially as he seemed to draw more people's heads TO Harry than away.

Hermione obviously hadn't heard of subtlelty, either.

"HARRY! Where WERE you last night!"

Harry sighed dejectively.

"I told you, 'Mione. I had slave labour with Filch.'

"Well, I knew that, but you were gone for such a long time! Ron and I had to go to bed after a while, it just got too boring by ourselves."

Harry snickered.

"Are you SURE that if had walked in around midnight, I wouldn't have found you two snogging?

He glanced sideways at Ron. The redhead was crimson. He'd bet every Galleon on him that Ron had wanted to stay up the whole night with Hermione. Honestly, it was taking SO long for them to figure out their feelings towards each other.

Hermione sputtered indignantly as her mouth opened to deliver a scathing remark, but she fell silent at the sight of something behind Harry and Ron.

Harry whirled around. Draco Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, with all of his Housemates clustered around him. He held an opened letter in his hand. The others seemed to wait with baited breath. Slowly and tortuously he raised his head, and Harry gazed into the silver eyes with shock. Surely Malfoy wasn't showing any EMOTION? But as quickly as it had shown up, the mask was over the Malfoy heir's face once again and he turned triumphantly to his Housemates. Harry never got any further than staring confusedly as Malfoy was swept out of the hall by his joyous house.

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All over the school, the rumours were starting. Harry didn't quite know which ones to believe, but he was pretty sure that the one about Malfoy's long-dead ancestor rising from the grave, and leaving him the family fortune had slight traces of falsity. Although the one about Malfoy going down to hell in a few week's time would have been better.

But Hermione had a different view of the goings-on.

"It's the Dark Mark, of course," she stated matter-of-factly as a snowy Harry stared at her blankly after coming in from the much-awaited Quidditch game.

"Wh-what the HELL do you mean, Mione?

Obviously, he wasn't quite past Quidditch yet.

Hermione made an exasperated noise.

"MALFOY, Harry! Or have you really been deaf to the world these past days?"

Harry was looking at her with the weirdest expression on his face.

"Hermione, we just won the big Quidditch game!"

And with that, he headed up to the 7th year dormitories. Hermione sighed dejectedly as Ron came running in.

"'Mione, we just won, we won..." he trailed off, seeing the look on Hermione's face.

"Ronald Weasley, just GO." Hermione's voice carried the power of someone at the end of her rope.

Ron winced as he hastily edged towards the stairs.

"Right then, I'll just..just be off then, shall I? 'Night, 'Mione!", he called over his shoulder.

Hermione listened for the creaking of his dorm door as it opened. Two seconds later, a joyous din floated down the stairs of the boy's dormitories, and wafted over to where she sat by the crackling fireplace in a cozy chair.

'Well then,' she thought to herself bitterly, 'it's up to me now to find out what Malfoy's got to hide.'

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Draco had never had so much booze in his entire public life.The whole of Slytherin House had been partying the weeks away, but he knowing full well that they weren't doing it for him, but for themselves when they got the coveted letter.

But was it an invitation to join the Death Eaters? Draco had seen no sign of the regular lingo meant to inform eager Slytherins of the date, time, and place of the initiation.

Draco shivered involuntarily.

'It had to be what I expected,' he thought somewhat desperatly.

"Not desperatly," his prim inner conscience turned up his nose and corrected,

"Malfoys are never desperate."

To be a Malfoy. All of those traditions, ancestry and lineage business to display.

"Malfoys are the image of calm, effortless elegance," his father had once told him sternly.

'Well, father,' he thought, looking down at the brief letter laying on his desk, ' this certainly upholds your teachings.'

Picking up the letter again as if in a dream, he read over its contents once again:

Draco,

Enjoy the Yuletide cheers as they are given. Our dearest friend will be hosting a party at the waning of this month and we hope to see you in attendance. Not all things will to you be Hidden. Your mother sends you her fondest regards, and hopes you are well.

Ever in honour,

Father

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Far below Hogwartses' jubilous quidditch celebrations and merry chatter, a secret room lay at the root of the magic itself. On first inspection, it seemed to be a deserted classroom. But if someone had bothered to look past the rusting desks, the peeling walls and the sagging cabinet, they would have felt something not quite right. Dark things whispered their secrets through what should have been a non-existent breeze, and the feeling of unuse seemed to be poised on a delicate balance, as if the room was waiting for a command of a certain nature.

A mouse scurried through the thick layer of floor dust towards the front of the room. Where was he? One second he was discussing the finer points of cheese with his friends, the next he was picking himself off of the ground. Stopping suddenly, he lifted his nose into the air and sniffed around. At least when he was first in here, there had been a wind. Now things were quiet. Too quiet. The mouse had heard this quietness before in the Forest, when a predator was about to strike. The calm before the storm.

Suddenly, a flash out of the corner of his eye! Sqeaking with fear, the mouse ran towards the nearest wood giant and huddled beneath some papers. He peered out slowly. The room seemed to mock him in its bareness, chilling him to the bone. Scanning aroung him, he spied a light beneath a door at the end on the room.

Time seemed to slow as he ran, his short legs carrying him as quickly as he could go. The blank posters on the wall burst into life as he ran by them, the drawings on them such that no sane creature should ever see. Candles flared in a green blaze, narrowly missing him as they fell. 'Run, run, run!' ,his mantra seemed to beat with his heart. A shadow rose behind him, growing nearer with every stroke.

And then the room was still again, the posters swaying slightly.

Above in a corridor, two third year girls squealed with disgust at the sight of a mangled rodent body on the ground, the long tail the only indicator of what it had once been.

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A/N: Second chapter done after a small writer's block. I was so scared of this chapter, because I didn't know how to portray Ron and Hermione! Please review to tell me how I did.