She wasn't Hermione Zabini when she was in his arms. She was Hermione Granger, and he craved her more than he'd ever craved anything before. She was plain old Granger, a know-it-all who just wanted to save the world. He knew she'd changed, but that just interested him more. Because he knew the truth, something even Tom hadn't guessed yet. Hermione was different from what they all thought, and Draco was the only one who really knew her.
She was just Granger. She shouldn't even have come back here. This was too tough a decade for her. Slytherin house was just too rough.
Draco fought down the protests that nibbled at him insistently – hadn't she coped extremely well? Hadn't she inter-mixed with the Slytherins perhaps even better than himself? Hadn't she risen to the challenge spectacularly?
But that didn't matter. He'd always known she had balls, ever since that day in third year when she'd slapped him across the face. He just admired her all the more for said balls. It didn't mean he had to stop wanting to protect her. Ash was thinking of killing her, and Hermione hadn't a clue.
And he couldn't quite believing Hermione Granger or Hermione Zabini was kissing him right now. It was like nothing mundane, and he couldn't quite grasp the concept. It was amazing he could even think at all, the mind-blowing sensations of it all.
The kiss broke, and they stared at each other. He wasn't sure what she was thinking. He was seeing everything in a dazed light, feeling as if he'd drank a couple more fire-whiskeys than was safe or clever. Giddiness fluttered in his chest, along with excitement and a desperate, immediate wish to kiss her again.
"Malfoy…" she breathed, still close but not quite as in his arms as he would have wished.
"Granger…"
It was the wrong thing to say. Darkness pooled in her eyes and the trance seemed to have broken. "A Granger and a Malfoy?" she said bemusedly after a quick break of silence, smiling grimly.
"Why not?" He offered out his hand to her.
She stared at that hand, that hand he always seemed to be offering to her. It was a symbol of something so much more important – important and exciting and nice and an end to the loneliness and uncertainty that had plagued her, ever since she'd entered Hogwarts when she was eleven years old. At the end of the day, Hermione Granger had never had a boyfriend, and had spent many, many hours wishing for one. Like many a girl, even though she never would have admitted it to herself.
And Malfoy was nice. He hadn't always been. He was immature and could be a prick and Ron and Harry would never like him. But he'd been nice to her here, giving her odd reassurances and silent support when she'd needed it the most. He'd risked his life to come back sixty years into the Past. Yes, maybe his motives hadn't always been very honourable but, in the end, they now were. He'd suffered through Dumbledore's death and couldn't hack it. He wasn't a killer. He'd ran to where he knew she was, and they'd gone back on this pointless endeavour to save the future.
He'd ran to where he'd known she was…How curious. Had he, in fact, been feeling such feelings for her all that time back?
She stared at the hand, and then, still smiling sadly, she looked at him, turned on her heel and walked away from him.
It was strange, but it was more painful than she would have thought. An endless list of possibilities went through her mind – she and Draco could have had some fun. Mindless, innocent fun. She could see a life where, if things were different, she could have one day really, really liked him. Perhaps loved him.
A quick flash. Of sitting on wet grass beside him, looking out at lakes, soft in his arms. Up on a broom, gripping on to him, terrified but somehow protected. Of competing against his good-naturedly in class, smiling teasingly over at him as she rose her hand yet again. Of laughing, crying, smiling and being with him. Of kissing him with all the gentleness of that last kiss, and knowing that he was hers, and she was his.
But that was from a completely different world now. Maybe if they'd discovered each other properly back in their own time.
But not now. Things were too messed up now.
She had Tom to worry about.
And she wasn't at all sure a thing such as a Malfoy and a Granger getting together was even possible.
Of course, when she hadn't been thinking about Tom, she'd thought about Draco. But it had been a mere daydream. She would never have thought he'd ever like her – wasn't he much too good for her? Hadn't he, anyway, always thought that? She was a Muggleborn, after all. Or maybe he'd got caught into her own trap and both had convinced themselves that she was actually Hermione Zabini, a pureblood and a perfect match for a young man such as himself.
Tears were building in her eyes, but she would not cry. She had too much to deal with at the moment, and Draco would be okay. Hermione Zabini now had a ball to attend to. With Tom. Pretty much at his mercy, without her wand. Pretty much being blackmailed so he wouldn't open the Chamber of Secrets. Pretty much helpless, in the smooth hands of the potential Dark Lord who, unbeknownst to her, was extremely angry at this current moment, all because of her.
But, she thought, at least there was one bright side. Her dress was extremely pretty. And so, she kept walking away, leaving Draco standing completely alone in the blinding sunlight, blinking away any wetness that might have occurred.
Ash grinned at him in greeting. Draco had stood there in the spot where Hermione had left him for a long time until feeling had come back. Now, all he could feel was her lips, and her rejection. His hand felt numb, the one he'd offered to her. He was gutted and upset and tired. He didn't know how it had gotten so far. One second he thought he might have feelings for Hermione but he was completely in control over the situation. The next second, now, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing was in his control, not anymore. He realised that now; it really was blatantly obvious.
Ash wasn't really all that plain, anyway.
Those multi-coloured eyes watched him face very, very closely.
He didn't grin back at her. Instead he just pressed her close and kissed her. After a minute, she kissed him back. It wasn't a nice kiss, nothing like when he'd been with Hermione. But it was all he could get, and he thought of her all the while.
The music played in the background. One of Sally's bands. Hermione had always thought of her as a bit of a pop-princess wannabe. But apparently Sally wasn't into more acoustic style music, and the gentle but somewhat strikingly painful guitar strings and the voice of a broken man echoed around the room. Hermione sat there on the bed, while Sally applied her makeup, and felt oddly peaceful, but still a bit sad for general reasons.
Sally had asked to do her makeup. Apparently, Sally had known that Hermione had been stealing little bits of her makeup. "I hadn't minded," Sally said easily. "You could have just asked me though. I would have done it for you. No offence or anything," This was said as if to emphasise her offence more, "but you can't put it on too well. No matter, we'll have you looking better in a little while. Just give me time."
Hermione half-listened to her. Her mind was elsewhere. Little traces of thoughts with no real meaning. Her mind was more on the music than anything else. Odd lines struck at her, and the gentle beat seemed as if it belonged to her heart.
"There!" Sally stepped back and examined her. Hermione examined Sally too. The black robe was a little boring for Hermione's liking. So clichéd Slytherin. Hermione wondered whether she would be the only girl from her house wearing such a bright colour. But certainly Draco would have known this, so why had he picked it out for her? Sally looked as plain as always, and Hermione hoped her makeup wasn't quite so bland.
One look in the mirror told Hermione she needn't have worried. Black smoky eyes, slightly rosy cheeks, and lips that exact same vivid shade as her dress. Even with her frumpy school jumper and wrinkled skirt, she looked great.
Her mind still on the music, she slipped into her robe. Sally began exclaiming about it, eyes wide and admiring. Hermione felt like a queen in it, someone to be respected and admired.
There was a pecking on the window. Hermione fluidly moved towards it to let the large fluttering owl in. He delivered a thin package and a crisp white envelop with the name Hermione written on it in loopy tiny writing, and left. Ignoring Sally's questioning, she moved to pick up it, going for the letter first. It read:
Hermione,
Enclosed is a special present, just for you. I hope it goes with your robe.
Wear it. I have kept my side of the bargain so far. Are you ready to keep yours?
Tonight will be fun.
Always,
Tom
Mind nowhere near the music now, she could barely hear it now, Hermione picked up the package, immaculately wrapped. She felt a sudden prick of fear but, realising that she was being silly and that Tom would have no reason to send her either of poisonous snake or some kind of lethally exploding object worthy of the Weasley twins, she opened it.
A beautiful, gold necklace dropped to the bed.
"Oh my God," Sally gasped in the distance.
Hermione's breathing was restricted. She picked it up numbly and looked at it. It was beautiful, yet somewhat simple at the same time. The chain was craved with perfection in twirling designs and, although it was sparkling in the sun from her window, the design had an almost ancient and enchanting look about it. It met in a round, small circle of gold, which, without really thinking about it, she knew was a symbol for everlasting.
Sally tied the back for her, prattling about it. Hermione didn't hear a word of Sally's prattle. She was staring transfixed at her reflection. The prefect Slytherin queen; ironically dressed in vivid Gryffindor colours.
Ash would have looked nice in light green robes. She would have looked lovely in any pastel colours, something bright and pretty. Instead she wore black; the colour that was presumed for her. Ash knew her place. She knew what was expected. She had no wish to change the colour of her robe. She didn't think it boring, just practical.
Draco dressed in the same colour, a strong contrast with his pale white skin and hair. The two of them looked startling pale in their almost grieve-like clothes. Neither of them pointed this out, but both thought it mildly.
"Are you ready?" She took his arm and he led her down to the Grand Hall. They were silent the whole way, one lost in thought about a certain girl, the other one calculating carefully. Ash's parents had written to her only yesterday, urging her to do something before it was too late.
Dumbledore met them at the door. He winked especially at Draco and smiled widely. Ash scowled at him. Silly old man. What was he smiling about? Her parents were right, he was definitely a weirdo. But once she went into the Grand Hall, the last thing she was thinking of was Dumbledore.
"Hermione…" Tom's eyes roved over her, hungrily. His hand stretched out in her direction but didn't touch her. He seemed at a loss for words, unable to even think to do anything else but stare at her. His eyes were wide and large, and reflecting light back at her.
Once the evident surprise was over, approval flared in those dark pits, and his lips quirked upwards. He moved towards her in one fluid moment, eyes still taking her in. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and she basked in his attention. Hermione had never felt beautiful; she'd never been anything to look at. Her brains and strong personality had been her strong points; her looks not a hindrance to someone like her. Now, however, she felt as if she was perfect in his eyes. It was a confidence boost and she smiled graciously back at him.
He was so handsome in his clean-cut robe. Expensive and dark, he reminded her of a James Bond kind of character. Hair neat and tidy, and skin totally faultless. She would have been jealous of his beauty, had she not felt that she had her own. He didn't look as cool as normal, completely in awe of her.
She was delighted.
They were quite a pair.
"Ready for some fun, then?" she taunted at his awe, and took his arm. He led her down to the Grand Hall. They were silent the whole way, one lost in thought about a certain girl, the other one calculating carefully. Calculating about what she ought to do tonight, and about the drama that was bound to unfold.
The first dance passed easily enough. He held her in his arms lightly. They were pleasant, chatting idly. Only his dark flames for eyes told her what darkness was bound to erupt, and his lips had a smug line about them she wasn't sure of. Still, she laughed and kept quiet and listened and smiled in all the right places, and he was the perfect partner. He led their dance with controlling arms and carefully timed steps. She, who knew very little of dancing and had spent most of the Hogwarts balls plotting mischief with Harry and Ron or giggling on the floor with Ginny, knew little of proper dancing. But together they danced well, moving almost simultaneously.
The first slow dance was a little scarier. He pulled her close, so close. The melody was simple and sad, the piano accompaniment haunting and the female vocalist's voice trembled with emotion. She sang of love and, although Hermione's eyes were on Tom's, she found herself wondering where Draco was and whom he had brought to the ball.
She danced some more with Tom, but her heart continued to beat somewhat erratically. She felt a little sleepy and, without really meaning to, put her head on his chest and leaned against him. They were barely moving now and the melody seemed to stop and restart at some points.
He took her chin in his fingers and raised her head slightly to where he had lowered his own. His fingers released her chin and swept in a touch as soft as feathers over her lips. She trembled, but did not draw back. She was ready for it when he kissed her. Right there on the floor. With everyone watching them.
Draco had been one of the first in with Ash but, to both their pleasures, neither of them was that bothered to dance and sat in the darkest corner, carefully watching all their fellow students.
"She looks well, doesn't she? Hermione, I mean." Ash watched his response very carefully as she pointed in the direction and Draco followed with his eyes.
Well was such an understatement it was laughable. Hermione looked beyond beautiful. Once such a plain, insignificant-looking girl, Draco could only wonder at how such a change had happened so subtly. A thought was provoked: What would have happened if Hermione had been sorted into Slytherin back when she was eleven years old? Would she be like this now? Or worse?
If only she'd been born with pure blood.
She danced with Tom and nobody else. She seemed to be enjoying herself, sparkling up at Tom and letting him hold her close. They were the talk of the ball; everyone was gossiping about that new girl and Riddle.
"If you care to drag away your eyes from your dearest Hermione," Ash said scornfully, "you might see Law and Sally have entered."
Draco turned to see them. Sally looked dark with her brown hair, sallow skin and black robe. Law, beside her, looked like a Canada flag – with his red hair and white skin – in comparison, and terribly out of place. He looked around the room nervously as if he was searching for somebody. Draco wondered whom. The only person he could think of was Tom, and Tom was plainly in view.
Draco turned to see Hermione again. A slow song had started up. Hermione's back was to him, her head hidden in Tom's chest. Tom was looking over her shoulder straight at Draco. Black eyes met silver, both flared, and then Tom, with precise, exaggerated movements; eyes still on Draco's, raised Hermione's dazed face towards his and, after a moment of purposeful contemplation, kissed her.
It was a fast dance. She still had very little rhythm but Tom always kept her close and always guided her. His hands weren't around her now, but on her hips. Hers were on his shoulders. Her face was pointed towards his, his lowered. Their lips were levelled but they didn't kiss again.
He was smiling. Obviously enjoying tonight. Enjoying her company. He never once took his eyes off her, drinking her in almost greedily. She felt like she was the only girl in the world.
"I don't want you to dance with any other boy this evening," he had told her. "I want you to be all mine." He hadn't mentioned anything about the Chamber or any sort of threat, but it was all present in his face and she nodded.
But Draco knew of no such bargain. He came up and said jovially, "Tom, if you wouldn't mind…" gesturing towards Ash, who waited expectantly.
It was an awkward minute. Tom's eyes burned into Hermione but there was nothing she could do. She knew he wanted to say no, but that wasn't how things like that worked in Pureblood society. He had no choice and, eyes still burning into her, she switched from Tom's warm arms and into Draco's cool ones.
But, once there, she found herself forgetting about Tom's burning eyes when looking into such silver ones. Had so much changed between them? Now that Hermione knew he was interested in her…Was she really interested in Draco Malfoy?
There must be something wrong with her taste in men. She must go seeking for the most trouble she could find. Then again, it explained her choice in friends in Ron and Harry and, on a lesser extreme, cheeky Ginny.
Even before Hermione had gone back into the past, her life had never been easy.
"You look handsome," she told him, smilingly.
"Nothing compares to you. Everyone's talking about you. You're the belle of the ball." The song switched on to a slower number. Tom broke away from Ash expectantly. Draco pretended not to see him and swished her away. Hermione saw Tom rejoin with Ash reluctantly before looking back to Draco.
Draco did look very handsome tonight. She knew that, back at Hogwarts in their original time, he was considered a bit of a "hunk", but Hermione had never seen it. She'd often wondered where the attraction was. She'd repeated herself often to Ginny about how his nose was too pointed, his frame too skinny, himself too short, his hair too colourless, to have any sort of effect on her.
When she'd gotten older and a little less prejudice, she'd grudgingly admitted he wasn't bad looking. But, even until recently, she'd never been excited at the mere prospect of looking at him, like Lavender had been known to be. Once she'd started her mission with him and began to see him as a real person, she'd seen some good characteristics in him, like the fact that his teeth were white and perfectly symmetrical (Her parents were dentists!), his skin never contained one blemish, and his hair, when one knew him well enough to touch it, was impossibly silky and well cared for.
But now, he looked extremely handsome. Not impossibly beautiful like Tom. Not enough to rend her speechless. But enough for her to wonder what he could ever see in a girl like her and to know that, in more appropriate times, she would have been honoured to dance with him, if they hadn't had all their history.
"Who are you here with?" she asked him, still smiling. Letting herself have a little fun. She didn't want to think of darker things, just yet, but worry was clawing at her beneath this fragile façade.
"Ash."
Hermione frowned.
"Don't frown, it'll spoil the look," he teased. Seeing that her frown didn't ease, he prompted, "What's wrong?"
"I didn't know you were such good friends." She hated the tang of bitterness in her voice. The slight but so evident possessiveness she now felt over him that was completely ridiculous.
"Are you jealous?" He was amused. She didn't appreciate the laughter that was obviously coming at her expense.
"Have you kissed her?" She sounded like a sulky child and this time he let the laughter out, a deep laugh, nothing like Tom's high pitched – well, that was neither here nor there, really. She shook her head to clear it.
"Yes," he told her honestly. He didn't tell her that, when kissing Ash, he'd always thought of only her. He didn't tell her that he didn't have one romantic notion including Ash. He didn't tell her that she was the only girl he thought of these days, and that that had been the way for a while now. He didn't tell her quite how much he did admire her. He didn't really think it necessary. Would she even care to know?
She went to pull away from him. He didn't let her, couldn't let her. He didn't want her to go back to Tom, all because of something as silly as Ash.
"Does it matter? Honestly, Hermione, I saw you kissing Tom just there." He smiled down at her, and her frown eased slightly. "Don't be silly now. We're the same, you and me. It doesn't mean anything."
That was wrong and they both knew it. They did care. They'd always cared. Both had never been indifferent and callous. Draco did care if Hermione and Tom kissed. Hermione did care if she and Tom kissed. They both cared if they kissed, and Hermione did indeed care if Draco was kissing Ash, although she wasn't completely sure why. Hadn't she walked away from his offer?
"It can't happen now," she told him delicately. "There's too much stuff going on. But…"
"But?" he said, and tried to pretend to himself that her words were making him deliriously happy.
"But I didn't say no." She returned his smile at last. "I don't want to say no. I don't want not to care. But we can pretend it's like that for a while, can't we? Until things get a little easier."
"More pretence," he sighed. "Don't you ever wonder when it'll all end?"
"I do," she replied. "I think it'll be soon."
She was back in Tom's arms. She wanted to keep more of an eye on Draco and Ash, but she couldn't. It was, after all, extremely hard work to focus on anything other than Tom when in his company.
But even she had noticed the looks Law had been sending McGonagall all night. And she couldn't help but smile when she saw McGonagall finally come and join Law for his much-deserved dance. The music was perfect too – the boy and girl of the band (The Magicks, they were named supposedly. Tom wasn't too keen on them, though) A sad song, the girl was singing to the boy that she was sorry she couldn't forgive him. Hermione couldn't really watch the pair for long; Tom had drawn her close again.
"You look beautiful," Law told her. It wasn't a lie. He believed so. But the truth was, Minerva McGonagall could never be beautiful. She was wearing conservative robes of cream, and her hair was up in a tight bun. She didn't particularly like her hair up, but Law had told her it suited her. When she thought of him, she put it up. A silent tribute.
"So do you," she replied. Also not true. Law was much too lanky and freckly to be ever called beautiful. Even handsome would be an exaggeration. His eyes, although a nice shade of blue, were too small and insignificant to save his face from the brand: tolerable. Grand. Okay. All right in his own way.
Both were not beautiful. But they were both completely mad about each other.
"It's only for tonight," she told him, willing him to understand. "We can't get back together. We're not back together. But I- I just needed to dance with you tonight."
He tried desperately not to stand on her toes,and he understood what she was saying. They were too different, it was too difficult, and they were all too young. But there was something special between them, something that had helped him grow into a better person, and, as he danced with her in what felt like the sweetest dance of his life, he knew he would always be grateful to her for that.
"Does that make you angry?" Tom asked her now. "Seeing them together, a Pureblood and a Mudblood. Does that make your blood boil?"
Maybe she was just sick of the pretending now. Tired, she answered him with a question. "Does it really matter? It's only a dance."
"Hmmm…it doesn't matter anyway, does it? Not anymore." His face wasn't as pale anymore. For him, he was flushed. Excited. Eager. He obviously had something to tell her.
Her anxiety grew rapidly. "What do you mean?"
"We had a deal, Hermione. You told me you'd change my mind not to open the Chamber of Secrets. But you haven't. You ran off last night before…before I was happy. You spent all day with Draco today. I watched you kiss him. I told you I wanted you all to myself tonight. You haven't been. While you were dancing with lover boy, I-"
"You what?" All she could feel now was dread.
"I let the Basilisk out, Hermione," he whispered. "It would have been cruel not to. He just needs one night-time walk."
"No…"
"Yes." He seemed pleased with her dread, leaning closer to see it fully. He was smiling gleefully, and strange lights danced in his eyes.
"How could you, Tom?" she gasped. She'd gone weak in his arms.
"Why not? I've been planning this for too long, Hermione. You could have stopped me, but you didn't. I don't even know why you care so much. They're only Mudbloods."
And then everything seemed suddenly clear. It wouldn't change anything. He wouldn't close the Chamber of Secrets. But it wasn't fair on him. He obviously had feelings for her. He obviously cared a lot about her. He wanted to impress her. Make her like him. But he didn't know the true story. He didn't know the true her.
"Because I am a Mudblood," she told him. She was amazed that she could look him properly in the eye, but she could. "I am Muggleborn, Tom, and my real name is Hermione Granger."
Draco wasn't even sure why he was kissing Ash. Really, he should have been keeping an eye on Hermione. But the truth was, he had been fooling himself. She didn't need his protection. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was more capable of it then he was.
He couldn't get what she'd said out of his mind. She hadn't said no. It wasn't final. Draco was still in with a chance. But he couldn't help wondering whether maybe she'd just said that to stop him kissing Ash, since it had been obviously she'd been so deliciously jealous.
So he was out here now, in the hallway, kissing Ash. Just to prove that he still was a man. That just because Hermione didn't like something he was doing, didn't mean he was just going to stop. She didn't have that much power over him, after all. He was still a Malfoy, albeit a Muggle-loving one. Hopefully, his father would never found out. Over everything, Draco thought that would be the one thing to send his father to the grave. Actually, perhaps someone ought to tell him – what a handy way to rid the world of a little more evil.
So he kissed Ash. Both of them kissing each other with the same harshness. Draco couldn't help wonder whether Ash thought of Tom as she kissed Draco. There was definitely no love lost between the two. She had admitted she found Draco's mind slightly attractive, but Draco would not have been surprised to find that Ash was in love with Tom.
If Tom was shocked or disgusted or angry or anything, he didn't show it. His face remained the same, completely impassive. She could read nothing from it. She could see nothing but the same darkness in his eyes.
And then, with horror, she realised he had raised his wand.
Was he just going to curse her there?
But he didn't. He did – something – and then put his wand back into his pocket. He'd summoned something, she realised. A second later, he was pushing that object into her hand. She couldn't look down. She was shaking. She couldn't take her eyes from his face, searching for some sign, some effect, some change.
"Race you there then, I suppose," he said.
Then he just held her in his arms for another minute, and she stood there in his embrace. He moved but only to kiss her on the forehead.
"Oh Hermione," he breathed. She was shocked by the flash of sadness there. Just sadness. Nothing else. No anger. No disgust. No disappointment. Just heavy sadness. Even that was gone in a minute, and at once his face was smoothed out and calm. Blank.
And then he was gone, and she felt strangely cold and empty without his arms around her.
She stood there emptily for a moment and then numbly looked down at what he'd given her. The realisation didn't surprise her as much as she thought it would, but what a coincidence! It was a mirror. But not just a mirror. The exact same mirror he had given her, when she'd been just twelve years old. Or at least its identical twin.
Once the shock was over, she knew she had to run. So she did. She raced past Sally, who was sulking in the corner, completely alone and still as plain as ever. She ran past Minerva and Law who were just finished their dance, and saying Goodbye. She ran past Dumbledore, who didn't even have time to form his polite inquiry. She ran past Principle Dippet, who couldn't quite remember that pretty running girl's name. She ran from the ball, the ball that had taken such a horrible turn.
She stopped running when she saw Ash and Draco kissing though. Full on kissing.
"You're so useless!" she screamed at him suddenly, everything all just coming to a head. "I don't know why I even bothered bring you!" She wasn't even fully aware of Ash's presence. "Honestly, what help were you? Here I am risking everything, and all you can do is kiss girls! A bit of support would have been nice instead of Always. Leaving. Me. Alone!"
"Hermione?" He pushed Ash away from him at once and came to her, confusion on his face.
"I'm sick of it!" she yelled. She was aware suddenly that she was crying. Another mood swing. There must be something mentally wrong with her. "I'm sick of you! I'm sick of me! I'm sick of everything!" The tears splashed down her face and she flushed a very ugly colour, nearly the same colour as her dress. Her hair was beginning to go mad again.
"What's after happening?" he asked her urgently. "Are you alright?" He genuinely seemed to be very worried about her. "Hermione!" He lurched towards her, reaching out.
"Don't touch me!" She was completely hysterical. She realised if he came any closer, she was going to slap him. "You haven't changed at all, have you? The same old Draco Malfoy! Never will change! Exactly like your father!"
She ran again, ran away from him and his yells after her, trying to forget the hurt that had flashed on his face, and the terrible sadness that had been on Tom's. All because of her. "Hermione!" he bellowed. "Hermione, come back!"
All because of her.
Draco turned to meet Ash's questioning eyes. They were a dark green, and were regarding him with suspicion and interest.
He groaned inwardly. What had Hermione done? How could he explain this? Had she just blown everything?
What the hell was wrong with her, anyway?
She'd been stupid, Hermione had. Sobbing and upset and angry, pure emotion, she'd ran, only barely aware of where she was going. She couldn't think properly, only feel, and her emotions were totally out of control.
Through her bleary tears, she saw the shadow of the Basilisk. Too late. Instinct and adrenaline took over logical thought. Without even realising it, she had crouched under the Basilisk's shadow, her back to it. Too late. She couldn't run. Couldn't hide. No way to escape. It had seen her. It could smell her Muggle blood. It wanted to kill her.
It slithered up behind her. She could hear it. She only had one weapon. She raised the mirror, ready to crack the snake over the head with it. Foolishly, the mirror was facing the snake, and its glowing, lethal eyes were reflected back to her. Light also caught in it, which caused her unwilling, frantic eyes to look….
The snake slithered away after a second.
It hadn't killed her.
But Hermione was petrified.
Yay! So sorry for the delay in getting this out. I won't get into it here!
This hasn't been Beta read, and every time I look at it, I see a new mistake! I'm SORRY! But it's my favourite chapter so far!
Anyway, story has only two or three chapters left. :( And then i'm gonna take a little break from writing, basically because I'm swamped with real life, and all the stories I'm really passionate about at the moment will be finished! Yay! I'm after finishing Deal With The Devil, and Insanity of Life! Yay! I love finishing stories!
Thanks to, for reviews of last chapter:
sugarnspice522 - of course Hermione could be a target! Any Basilisk would see tjrough her disguise a mile off! thanks!
Amishgirl281 - I always thought time'd be that bit more confusing then just going back and messing things up!
Illyria-light - Your support is soooo great! I love one of the stories on your favs as well...Hinge of Fates, I'm just near the end of it! Thanks!
Ptrst - You rock!
Ardent Entity - It feels like we just talked yesterday...oh yeah, we did! Hope you're still reading!
Unspeakable May - Ouch, break ups are hard! Are you alright?
Mrs Pierre Bouvier - Un-strange pairings are boring! It's much morew interesting to explore the impossible!
Green Pea Soup - I updated Deal with the Devil! And it wasn't rude at all!
Zippyrox - I'm going to be honest with you! Because of the little we know about Tom, I'm actually finding him very easy to write. It's trying not to over-shadow Draco that's the hard part, and I'm finding himk a little difficult sometimes - I don't want to make him TOO nice (that's why he's kissing Ash!).
Alenor - Your review gave me an idea, actually! So thanks! For the final chappie!
Natyslacks - Don't worry, I adore complimentary rambling, am quite a fan!
Susukeblade - What a nice review! Thank you!
Fantasticicarla, The LollipopGuild, Seghen, sarklover826, Lily The Spitfire, BabyGooGoo2, Renyun, ElementalDragon1, mystripedskirt, Hermione Charlotte Granger, white liar, sakuya-kaleido, mandi, Sailor Moon Rose, SilverBunnie, CareBearErin, Emma Ackroyd, googlebear, poogiepie, MusicIsLife28, 404 (lol), Shaguana, inutasha and ?