The Hidden Secrets
A Hermione/Draco Romance

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I am not JK Rowling, nor do I have anything to do with Harry Potter besides fanfiction. I am not making any money out of this story, and I am not worth suing.


Chapter 11

The classroom was noisy, and Hermione briefly wondered what was going on before she took her seat, hoping she wasn't going to be in trouble for being late. She'd overslept, for once, and was running late for Transfiguration. McGonagall, usually very strict about excess noise in the classroom, was calmly sitting at her desk while the rest of the Gryffindor's and Ravenclaws, who they shared the class with, milled around a desk near the front, talking excitedly.

Realizing no work was set, and nothing was about to be done in the near future, Hermione stood and walked to where the group sat. Parvarti, one of the people on the edge of the group paled a little when she saw Hermione, but stepped aside and allowed her to walk closer. One by one, the rest of the Gryffindors stood aside, leaving a clear path to a familiar person sitting at a desk with their back to her.

The talk stopped abruptly when the rest of the people saw her. The familiar back turned around, and had she been meaning to talk in the first place, she now found she couldn't. Ron stared back at her, a sheepish smile on his face. "Hi, Hermione..."

McGonagall, hearing the sudden drop of the volume in the classroom, looked up sharply. Seeing Hermione's startled face, and the ashen faces of the class, she made to stand before the class at once began their excited chattering.

"Ron... I... why didn't I know... how come I wasn't told you were coming back?" she finally stammered. Ron looked sheepish for a minute, and looked at his feet before answering. "I didn't tell anyone... Dumbledore and the teachers knew, and mum and my family... but that was it. I wanted to write, but each time I started, I couldn't finish. You... you made it back alright that day... didn't you?" He looked up to catch her answer.

Hermione nodded, being sent back to speechless, and Ron looked at the desk. "I'm only here for this class this morning... Dumbledore thought it would be good since it was a Gryffindor class first up, and Madam Pomfrey wants me to stay close to the school, just in case something happens... the rest of the day I have catch-up classes with a heap of other teachers, but this class is ahead or something, so I'm not disturbing any important work or anything... How are you, anyway?"

The rest of the class hanging on every word they said, Hermione stammered, "Fine...", trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill. "I'm sorry, Ron... I have to go..." she said after a moments silence, and then promptly ran from the room. McGonagall looked up from her work, but said nothing. The rest of the class was buzzing with interest - who'd have thought Hermione would run from the room when Ron returned? Everyone knew it wouldn't take long before the gossip ran riot around the school.


Even the great hall was buzzing with new interest at lunchtime. People in both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff turned their heads towards the Gryffindor table, watching for Hermione, Ron, looking to see what would happen. Only the Slytherin's seemed separate, not a single person from the house turned to look at the rest of the school. They had no idea what had happened.

Dumbledore, when he stood for announcements at the beginning of lunch, didn't mention Ron's return, but he did call for Draco to please see him after lunch. Hermione glanced towards where the blonde-haired Slytherin was sitting. He had paled a little, seeming to not like the predicament he was in.

Hermione didn't see either Ron or Draco for the rest of the day, which wasn't really that surprizing seeing as there were no shared Slytherin/Gryffindor classes that day, and Ron had already told her he was in catch-up classes for the day. Silently, she wondered what would happen to the relationship between herself and Draco now Ron had returned.


"What! You can't mean that? You're telling me my father can pull me out of Hogwarts and send me to Durmstrang!" Draco was angry and not afraid to let anyone, especially Dumbledore, know about it. However, Dumbledore sat and waited until Draco had cooled off before continuing. "Your father has every right to un-enroll you from Hogwarts, if he sees it in your interests, but as I notice you aren't happy with the idea, I assure you, Mister Malfoy, if you do not wish to leave, your father cannot simply walk in here and pull you out. As long as you're under my protection in this building, you are free to continue on at Hogwarts. Now, if you wish to contact your father, I suggest you do not go home to do so. You have your own owl here, or you may use of the school's owls. I assure you, we can make every arrangement for you to remain here over the holidays."

Draco paced around the room, becoming torn at what to do. Though he hated his father, he knew there was little chance of him living a very long life if he continually disobeyed his father's wishes. But staying at Hogwarts seemed to be the best possible answer in the circumstances. He looked up at Dumbledore, who was still watching him unwaveringly, and stopped walking. "I don't want to change to Durmstrang. I know I'm not the 'true' Malfoy my father was looking for, but I'm the only goddamn heir he produced. If you think you can keep father off my back, then I'll stay, otherwise I'm putting a lot more people than myself in danger..."

Dumbledore smiled. "I agree. That is why you will remain here, at Hogwarts, for however long you believe you will be safe. Now, I do believe you have an Arithmancy class?" Draco nodded and made to leave the room. Dumbledore stopped with him a question. "And what exactly do you plan to tell Miss Granger about your father, Mr Malfoy?" Draco turned slowly, to find Dumbledore's eyes twinkling mischievously. "Nothing in particular, Professor. Now, if you'll please excuse me..."

And he walked from the office to the Arithmancy room where the rest of the three-person class was sitting, waiting, for his return. Their usual teacher hadn't been at the school for several days, and again there was a substitute. This time, it was someone who looked oddly familiar. "Lupin... what are you doin' back here?" he asked shortly. Professor Lupin grinned good-naturedly. "I was asked to return, again, by Professor Dumbledore to replace the current Defense Against the Dark Art's professor who has suffered from a... minor... run-in with a Grindylow during a demonstration. And because this teacher is under the weather, I have been asked to supervise this class. Although, I am ashamed to admit, I know only the basics of Arthimancy. I have been told, however, that you all have work to continue on with, and I suggest you get started."

Grudgingly, Draco took his seat and pulled out his books. As soon as he became involved in the rows of numbers, the rest if the world seemed to vanish, to disappear, leaving only the world of numbers to seem real. At the front of the room, Remus Loupin watched as the small class became quiet, and settled. This was something he hadn't expected - the Slytherin's treating him with a new respect - and it was quite unnerving. Especially since he knew how they felt about him. But then again, the main initiator of the bad treatment was the blonde-haired boy sitting in front of him. Without the Slytherin King starting anything, no one would bother.


Meanwhile, in the small classroom occupied by only two people, Ron found he could process the newer, harder potions quite easily. Severus Snape, who was pacing around the room, was taking him for the first catch-up lesson of the day. There was an antidote potion for sleeplessness boiling away merrily in the small cauldron, and in a slightly larger one sat a completed truth serum. How Ron came to have the ability to remember the ingredients for the potions after being told only once, and how he could brew them without toomuch difficulty was something that irked Snape to no end... as much as it astonished Ron himself.

"Uh, Professor... both potions are done... are you finished with me now?" Ron asked, suddenly nervous in the pressense of the most hated teacher in the school. "Yes, just go already!" Snape snapped sharply. Ron left the room quickly.

Snape continued to pace, "How could he have gone from bottom class scholar to top class? There's just no logical way..."

Outside, the hallways seemed longer, darker, then what Ron remembered. Maybe it was just the lack of other students that made it seem so different, but everything seemed strange now. Somewhere, he vaguely remembered a dream, walking down the Hogwarts halls, Hermione on one side, Harry on the other, laughing... but that was only a dream, and no one knew if Harry would ever be found - Dumbledore had said as much in an earlier meeting.

He headed back to the Gryffindor dorm, bypassing the occupied classrooms, stopping when he reached the familiar fat lady. She knew he was back of course, but couldn't help but exclaim, "Ronald Weasley! Welcome back!" before controlling herself and asking for the password. "Welcoming," he said, trying not to appear too uninterested. He was the talk of the school, but he didn't want to be. Everyone knew who he was, but he knew hardly anyone. Even Fred and George were gone now, having left the previous year. In reality, he knew he was almost being pushed up a grade because he'd missed so much work, but it still felt strange not to be in the classes with the rest of his grade. The empty classrooms were daunting, but he clung to the knowledge that he would rejoin his grade the following week.

He walked through the common room, looking at the new portraits that adorned the walls. One caught his attention, and he stopped to look at it. Hermione, Malfoy, a girl from Ravenclaw he'd seen around, and the horribly atrocious Hufflepuff who was always at the bottom of the grade. In the portrait, the first thing he noticed was that Hermione was standing next to Malfoy, who had his arm slung loosely around her shoulders. Something, a voice at the back of his head, told him that what he saw wasn't right, that Hermione would never allow for the dirty Malfoy to do something like that. But reason told him that the portraits didn't lie. If they were together like this, in paint, they either were, or would be together.

Why this hurt him, he didn't know. He hadn't seen his friend for a year, had barely even thought of her, and now he learnt that she could be with a Slytherin... was it the fact she was out of reach, or the fact that he missed her what made it hurt so badly? This was something he wasn't sure about.

Dropping his things off in his room, he headed back outside, ignoring the fat lady's attempts to tell every living wizard in England that he was back, and walked desolately around the school corridors, wondering how he'd managed to come back, why his cellmate (who he was sure was Harry) hadn't... Somewhere, someone called something, and almost immediately, crowds of students rushed out, filling the halls. A blonde someone collided with him as he passed a doorway, and they both went sprawling to the ground.

Untangling himself from the intertwined bags, dropped books, and bottles of ink, Ron realised with a start that it was no one other than the person he'd been thinking about - Malfoy.

"Watch it, Weasel, you may have taken Potter's place as the most talked about person in the school, but it sure don't mean you're gonna get special treatment from me. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a class to get to," he finished, dropping to flat out sarcasm. Somewhere, alarm bells went off in his head, and the picture of Hermione flashed before his eyes. Ignoring it, he headed towards his next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor, hoping to be able to block Lupin from his mind by seeing Hermione.

Ron stood and watched him walk off, wondering what Hermione could possibly find likeable about the Slytherin. Knowing she always looked for the good in people, it wasn't overly surprising that she would see something, but what that something could be was a mystery.


Hermione stared at the ceiling. The deep red colour blurred into white as tears threatened to break free. She hadn't been able to return to class once she'd left. Different thoughts whirled through her head, some were about Ron, some about detentions, some about Draco... none of which made any sense. None of which would ever make any sense. How could she feel this way about Draco, yet be still in love with Ron? If it were love... what else could it have been? She knew, for sure, that she would never have slept with Ron had she not loved him... but did she still? Or was it that she'd always clung to the hope that he would come back and everything would be the same... but nothing would be the same.

Blinking back tears, she thought about the first party she went to...

Not usually one to break the smallest rule, she remembered how it had felt to lose her best friends, because of a broken rule... "If I've lost this much from one little rule bending, there's not much worse that could be done," she'd thought to herself, before accepting the bottle from Justin Finch-Fletchly, and simply forgetting all the morals her parents had brought her up with.

That first morning after had been degrading, insulting... to wake up next to someone she didn't love, to expect to see the one person she probably would never see again... she dressed and high-tailed it from the room before anyone would wake up and see her.

And every weekend, every party that was thrown, the hosts made sure that Hermione knew, and she would be there, in the center of attention. It almost became a game for the guys, to see who she would choose for the night, to see who would be the next notch on the bedpost. A few were even lucky enough to be chosen twice. Until this year...

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to escape into sleep, but it didn't front. Why wouldn't Ron tell her he was coming back? Why didn't Dumbledore? Dumbledore knew about him, and Dumbledore knew that she was sending so many owl's around in the wizarding world looking for him... why was she the last to know about his return when she should have been on of the first?

A knock on the door startled her, and she wondered briefly who cared enough to come looking for her in the middle of a class, before standing up and heading towards the door. Draco stood there, a near-worried expression on his face, and a piece of parchment in his hand. Hermione moved as though to shut the door again, but Draco pushed his foot against the door, and stepped into the room. "Hermione, we need to talk..."


A/N: a bit of a cliff hanger, ya think? Hehe, you can all probably guess whats gonna happen next, but I doubt that anyone will guess the twist later on!