-1Chapter 7

Hermione sat in her dormitory on her bed staring at her piece of parchment with the riddle copied onto it. The numbers on top were now arranged in Fibonacci Sequence. An owl hooted as it flew past her dormitory window. Parvati snored and rolled over in her sleep.

1 1 2 3 5 8

Loves me, loves me not.

I seek a flower,

To give me the answer,

I desperately sought.

Fly.

Flowers, there must be thousands of them in the greenhouses alone, imagine combing the Forbidden forest for what seems to be talking flower! She laid her head down onto the foot of her bed and rested her feet on her pillows, staring lazily at her drawn bedside curtains. Her fingers stroking the warm, soft comforter that she was lying on top of. She felt bliss, pure bliss as her tired brain began to slowly relax.

"I will always be there for you," Ron held her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his chest muscles from quidditch practice against her back. She tilted her head back and felt his lips move from her ear to her lips. Their heads moved closer and closer until they were almost touching, her eyelids fluttered open briefly, they widened in shock. It wasn't Ronald Weasley with his bright red hair and blue eyes that stared back at her. It was Draco Malfoy with his platinum blonde hair and gray eyes that her own reflection was in.

A loud tapping noise awoke Hermione from her fantasy. She wasn't sure whether it was a horror fantasy or a romantic one. She remembered how wonderful the strong grip of Draco's arms felt around her waist. How soft and gentle his voice was when he promised her. But wasn't it Ron, not Draco? Wasn't it, shouldn't it have been Ron's lanky arms wrapped around her slender waist? Shouldn't it have been Ron's clear blue eyes instead of Draco's stormy gray eyes? She slid from her bed and pulled a gap open in her curtains and shuffled to the window. An owl was tapping it's talons impatiently at the windows. She opened the window to let it in. As the owl flew onto her arm and stuck it's leg out, she saw that it was no ordinary owl. It's feathers were mahogany colored with specks of gold, it had bright eyes that emanated intelligence from it's sharp glances, the tip of it's wings were monogrammed with the letters 'DM.'

"Draco Malfoy," she murmered as she stroke the feathers with the letters glinting in the moonlight. Hermione was so mesmerized between the owl and her fantasy that she didn't notice the owl was still sticking it's leg out. She untied the package and it set off. She watched the brilliant owl set off back to the Owlery before closing the window and heading back to her bed with the package clutched in her hands. She set the package on her bed and looked at it for any sign of a letter or a card, but there wasn't any. It was simply a rectangular box, roughly the size of a shoebox wrapped in brown packaging paper tied up in white string. She was about to untie the knot when she noticed something odd on one of the corners of the box. There was a little tear in the packaging, the rest of the wrapping was perfectly smooth. It was a little hole, roughly diameter of the tip of her wand. She ran her fingers over the whole and felt her fingertips tingle. She reached her arm out onto her bedside table for her wand.

"Specialis revelio," she muttered as a beam of light shot out of her wand at the tear in the packaging. The brown paper began to evaporate and the corners of the box began to melt and soon the whole package disappeared. Hermione stared at the blank spot on her bed, unsure of what happened and what to do. Suddenly, in a brilliance of golden sparkles, a single, blood-red rose appeared where the package disappeared. A small piece of parchment drifted out of nowhere and landed next to the rose.

Simply because roses are red and violets are violet.

Meet me by the lake at 10pm.

The Boy on the Tower

Roses are red and violets are violet? What's he trying to say? Why is he meeting her by the lake? Did he round up his Slytherin cronies to find out who she was? But her final thought was the one that impacted her the most. If he could have a message delivered to her, wouldn't that mean that he knows who she is? If she met him, he might plan to have her killed or something. If she didn't meet him, she would lose his trust and he would probably stop coming to the tower at night. There was still the clue to figure out, and he sent her a rose. Does this mean that he may have some other ideas in his mind about a late night rendezvous by the lake?

Her mind immediately flashed back to her fantasy. This time, she didn't bother fighting her feelings of longing. There was no point. She hadn't reached the point of no return, she passed it. She was trying to make Draco fall for her, but instead she had fallen for him. She fell back onto her bed remembering Draco's warm, promising voice. His eyes sparkling instead of cold and dreary. She remembered how wonderful the warmth of his embrace felt. Would it feel that way in real life? Would his lips feel the same way against hers as it did in her fantasy? She ran her fingertips over her lips. Now the question remains, is Draco trustworthy? Is he worth it?

Draco stood at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds in his black winter cloak. His father was supposed to apparate here to meet him and check up on how he was doing with his mission. He hoped it wasn't another one of those times where his father purposely got him in trouble to train him on how to get out of sticky situations in the future. He heard shuffling from a nearby bush and quickly turned around with his wand pointed out. If this was Potter and his friends trying to get him into trouble, then they're going to be on the receiving ends of some nasty curses. A shuffle of footsteps grew closer to Draco and somebody tapped him on the shoulder.

"Paranoid or simply being prepared?" Lucius Malfoy asked with a rare amused look in his gray eyes. He took his hood off exposing his pale blonde mane and moved closer to his son.

"It's like what you always say, isn't it? There is no difference," Draco replied and diverted his eyes to the pale moon and the hoots of the surrounding owls.

"I see that some of the things I've told you still stays in your head," his father said and bore his gray eyes into Draco's to force him to make eye contact.

"I'm rather busy, please get to the point," Draco said as if he was speaking to a business partner instead of his father.

"Well obviously not busy enough. Nearly two months and not a sign that you've accomplished anything," his father's voice lost it's amusing edge and returned to its cold, harsh tone.

"If you want something to be done right, it takes time, and maybe a little bribery…" Draco's eyes lit up briefly as he glanced at his father. He wanted the mission completed desperately enough, Draco could sink his teeth into a plentiful reward. It had always been this way between him and his father, two businessmen negotiating.

"How about you complete this mission, and the Dark Lord doesn't kill the Malfoy family?" Lucius leaned forward and glared in Draco's eyes, "All the Malfoys, not just the ones branded with the mark." He lifted up his own sleeve and fingered the snake and the skull mark.

"I will be looking forward to my death," Draco snapped as he turned and walked in the direction of Hogwarts. He had come out on a freezing cold night just to get lectured by his father. He had the plan, all the chess pieces were in place, but did he really want to checkmate his opponent?

Hermione had been pondering all day and was oddly jumpy whenever somebody asked her a question. She let out a little yelp when Terry Boot walked by and greeted the three of them. There were dark rings under her eyes and her hair looked even bushier than usual.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked as Hermione dropped another textbook on the ground and bent down for the umpteenth time to pick it up.

"You're acting a little weird these days, is something…bothering you?" Harry gestured with his eyes for a brief second and pointed them to Ron.

"No, it's not that. I'll-I'll tell you later," Hermione turned briskly around the nearest corner and walked along a less crowded corridor towards the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

She glanced at her clock. She had three hours to decide. Three hours to decide if she was to meet Draco by the lake and do something…reckless. Something that nobody would guess that goody-two shoes Hermione Granger would ever do. Her heartbeat increased as she imagined the adrenaline filled feeling of being daring, adventurous, but Harry and Ron's disappointed expressions floated into her mind. In all her other crazy adventures, she hadn't risked that much. Maybe several times where she was in a bit of danger, but never, never was there a risk that her friendship with Harry and Ron would be jeopardized. She picked up the rose carefully so her fingers touched the thorn-free parts of it's stem. This risk, this recklessness, Draco, was like this rose. In order to smell it's fragrance, you have to risk cutting your fingers on it's thorns. She ran her fingers over the thorns and gently pressed her fingers in it, not hard enough to cut herself, but hard enough to leave an impression. Was it possible to enjoy the beauty of a rose without the risk of harming yourself? The only way was to cut it's thorns off, but to do so would reduce the beauty of the rose itself. Maybe people find roses so alluring because there was always the risk of being cut. Without the risk, maybe roses wouldn't seem so pretty after all.

On the other hand, there was really no point in debating with herself until she knew what Draco's motives were. But the only way to find out was to go to the lake side. She glanced at her clock, she still had thirty more minutes. She had wasted all this time pacing around her dormitory, she could do something useful with these thirty minutes, something that would redeem herself from the guilt of betraying Harry and Ron. But was that what she wanted to do? She picked up the rose by it's petals and started ripping them off one by one, the way girls did when they wanted to know if their crush liked them back.

He loves me, he loves me not…

Her mind clicked and her eyes grew wide. Suddenly, everything seemed to be in place. Fibonacci and the lines of the poem almost magically fit together like pieces in a puzzle.

She glanced at the clock quickly, it was 9:55, she had five minutes.

I figured out the last piece of the puzzle, I should go…just to gather more information…

She pulled her winter cloak off her hanger and ran down the stairs and out the common room. The corridors were still, it was past curfew time and most students were in their beds or their common rooms. She was about to step into the Great Hall when she suddenly remembered something. She didn't have her invisibility cloak or marauders' map. The exit was about twenty feet away. Filch would probably be patrolling the dungeons and working his way up. If she could cross quickly without anyone seeing, once she was out in the grounds, the shadows of the trees and her black cloak would prevent anyone from spotting her.

Just do it, it's now or never

She tried to silently run across the Great Hall to the exit. Her footsteps still created echoing bangs against the marble floor. She held her breath without knowing it until she exhaled in a puff of smoke from the cold temperature. She walked over to the lake, careful to only walk in the shadows of trees, which made it nearly impossible for her to see where she was going. She couldn't light her wand, because somebody might see and she would get in trouble. It seemed like years before she saw another cloaked figure in the distance.

"Figuring out my little puzzle was no challenge for you, was it?" Draco said as soon as he heard Hermione's footsteps.

"Not the hardest I've seen, but certainly…creative," Hermione responded and thought back to the burst of sparkles when the rose appeared.

"Full moon tonight," Draco looked up at the moonlight.

"Why did you want me to meet you here by the lake?" Hermione asked rather than respond to his previous comment.

"So I can do this," he moved closer to her and lifted her chin up. He bent down and gave her a gentle kiss. Her lips tingled from his touch. He tasted…good. Not like a pastry or a turkey dinner, but something more exhilarating, something more delicious. He tasted like an adventure, recklessness, uniqueness.

Hermione was in shock. There was a part of her mind that was telling her all the risk was worth it. She had managed to seduce him, for the first time in her life, she got flowers from a boy. The other part of her mind was yelling at her for her betrayal to her best friends. Before she had a chance to respond to the kiss, a loud voice caused her to pull away from Draco. Standing just a few feet away was Ronald Weasley. One split second glance into his clear blue eyes told Hermione that all the clues she solved and all the Recondite Butterflies in the world wouldn't change the look in his eyes. There was anger, a spark of jealousy, and disappointment. Raw, bitter disappointment.

"Bloody…sodding…hell…" were the only words he managed to say as he stared bewildered back and forth between Draco and Hermione.

Hermione quickly pulled away from Draco's arms and rushed after Ron. Draco stood alone by the lake feeling a combination of disgust for himself and pity for Hermione and Ron. Guilt, maybe?

However he cracked a quick smile when another thought popped into his head, his father would be pleased.