Call of the Circle

by RoBoC

During the summer after his fifth year, Draco Malfoy has an encounter that will forever alter his world.

47. Shopping, Draco Style

"Dreams?" Etean looked up at Draco. "What about dreams?"

Draco turned and walked slowly over to the table and sat down. "I just wanted to know if you knew anything about abnormal dreams…you know…ones that mean something?"

Etean shrugged. "All dreams mean something, Draco."

Draco spun at his words. "Really?" He sounded shocked.

Etean rubbed his temple, though his head was thankfully free of pain today. "Yes," he said, curious as to the point of this discussion and wondering if it was just a delaying tactic to buy Draco a couple of minutes more freedom from his training, "Though mostly its just silly stuff, like if you dream about money it means you want to get rich, or you are rich and don't like it…basically it means that money is on your mind. The same is true for most other things that people dream about."

Draco seemed to consider this slowly. "And what about when you dream about something that hasn't happened yet, or that happened to someone else a long time ago…something that you had no way of knowing."

"Are you talking about prophecy dreams?"

Draco blanked, and then nodded. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Etean mulled it over; he had no idea what had brought this on, but he was willing to humour Draco for now. "Prophesy Dreams…I can't say I am an expert or anything, but I have heard of them. What exactly do you want to know?"

"Well first off, what causes them?"

"Causes?" Etean scratched his head. "I don't know if anything causes them per say. So far as I know, some people are just born with the tendency to have them."

Draco snarled in the back of his throat. "That's what the books say, Etean, I was looking for more."

"More?"

"Yes, I was hoping that you…that the Circle would know more about how they work."

Etean tried to put his thoughts in order. 'How prophesies work?' "Well," he said thoughtfully, "there are theories…they haven't ever been proven though."

"What are they?"

Etean paused to recall all the details he could remember. "Well, as I understand it, the most plausible theory that we have works like this: Ethereal magic is pervasive; it affects all points in space no matter how remote. Currents and flows in the Ether, such as we can perceive, trigger changes and reactions in space that in turn trigger events at other points." To illustrate his point, Etean flicked the golden coin he was holding into the air and then caught it at the apex of its flight. "What happens here," he moved his hand, "can have an effect there," the coin moved as though he was holding it on his palm.

Draco scowled. "Show off."

Etean smiled and tugged the coin back to his hand. "Practice makes perfect," he piped, just to annoy Draco.

"Keep talking." The Slytherin scowled.

Etean pocketed the coin. "Now, as you have seen, magic can affect time as well as space. So there is no reason…theoretically speaking…that currents shouldn't exist in time too. Ripples in time if you will, what happens today can affect what happens tomorrow…or yesterday."

Draco frowned. "Tomorrow is the same as yesterday?"

"From one perspective, yes. Tomorrow, yesterday…last Tuesday, it's all the same from a magical standpoint. The proponents of this theory explain prophetic visions and images of the future as the result of ripples in time transferred through the Ether. In the same way as you can feel the world around you, some people are sensitive to these temporal ripples and they perceive their reaction in the form of images…words…or visions if you want to call them that."

Draco screwed his face as he listened. "Do you follow this theory?"

Etean shook his head. "It's all too woolly for me. There is yet to be a single shred of proof that these 'time ripples' even exist," he shrugged, "That is the most concrete explanation for the 'sight' though, so take it or leave it."

"So Seers can be trained?"

"No," Etean shook his head, "they can't."

"But," Draco was clearly straining to follow this, "if it's just a matter of sensitivity, why can't they? I mean, you trained me to be sensitive to ripples in space easily enough…"

"You're saying it was easy now?" Etean asked with a grin.

Draco winced. "No," he said hurriedly, "But you know what I mean…I suppose what I really want to know is: What is it that makes Seers sensitive in the first place?"

Etean shrugged. "What chooses the colour of your eyes? What is it that decides how tall you are, or whether you're left or right handed? It's just a matter of how you were born."

Draco seemed to shrink in apparent defeat. "So you do have to be born with the sight then?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"And there really isn't any other way to get it?"

Draco seemed to be labouring this point. Etean was puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"Well, when I started this training, you changed my mind…made me sensitive to things I wasn't aware of before."

Etean was still at a loss as to where this was going. "True, so…"

"So," Draco seemed to be thinking very hard, "is it possible…I mean, could you have made me sensitive to those kinds of visions while you were at it?"

'What?' "You're having visions?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I was just wondering if it was possible, that's all."

Etean rocked on his heels, thinking. Draco certainly was in an odd mood. "No, it isn't."

"Why?"

"Short version…the change is too big. I would have had to completely rebuild your brain – killing you in the process more than likely, and even then there wouldn't have been any guarantee that it would work. There are several known neural configurations that are sensitive to temporal effects…visions," he clarified, "Exactly why they are sensitive is open for debate, there contradictions in every explanation that I've ever heard…divination it isn't what you'd call an exacting science…Look Draco, what the hell is all this about?"

Draco lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione."

Etean's jaw tightened. "Granger?" 'Again?' He couldn't get away from that girl these days.

"Yes," Draco didn't appear to have picked up on Etean's tone. Etean forced himself to settle. "She's been having nightmares."

'No shit!' "Really?"

"Yes," Draco sighed, "she's a mess."

'Eyes in the dark,' the thought sailed, unbidden into Etean's mind. He pulled back, drawing away from any contact with Draco out of reflex. This topic of conversation was tough enough as it was; he didn't need any stray thoughts getting in the way. Etean replayed the conversation, looking at it from a new perspective. He frowned. "Granger is having visions?"

"It seems so…"

That did come as a surprise to Etean. 'Visions? What the hell…' "What kind of visions?"

"I'm not really sure to be honest. I mean she described them to me, but it didn't seem to make much sense to tell you the truth."

'Visions?' the question repeated over and over in his head. "And you're sure they're real?"

"What do you mean?" he got suddenly defensive, "She isn't just making this up or anything if that's what you're implying."

"No," Etean shook his head, "I meant; how do you know that her nightmares are really visions? From what I heard, those kinds of dreams aren't normally very clear."

"You want clear?" Draco stuffed his fingers into his mouth and tugged his glove free, "How's this? I've kept this unsightly thing hidden from everyone but she knew about it all the same. She saw it in a dream the other night, described it to me down to the last detail. She even saw how it happened…and I know that she wasn't there that night. You can't get any more clear than that, can you?"

Etean suppressed a startled whistle. "No…I don't think you can."

"So what do you think?"

Etean was jerked suddenly out of his reverie. "What are you talking about?"

"Can you help me?"

"Help you? How?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you think I have been talking about?"

"I'm still trying to work that out, Draco. What exactly do you want me to help you with?"

"I want you to help me help Hermione."

"How?"

"I don't know…I was hoping you did. Is there something…some way to…oh I don't know…block those ripples or something…prevent them from affecting her."

Etean paused, momentarily considering attempting what Draco was suggesting. He was all but certain that it wasn't possible. There was a chance that he was wrong; he had always believed that anything was possible. In the end however, the thought of trying and of spending the necessary time and effort on Granger made his throat clench. He groaned slightly as his temples started to throb. "I don't think so."

"You mean you can't do it?"

"I mean I don't know, Draco, I wouldn't know where to begin, or even if it can be done at all."

"Can't you at least try?"

Etean took a breath. He had to physically resist the urge to conjure his potion; he couldn't get too dependent on that stuff. "Look, Draco, seriously, I…understand that this is important to you and I know that that this is going to be hard for you to understand, but Granger isn't my problem. I really can't afford to devote my time to her right now…there's too much going on that has to take precedence."

"You're saying she isn't important enough?"

Etean was actually trying not to scream. "That's about the size of it…yes."

"And that's it?" Draco drew himself up. "That's your last word and I just have to accept it?"

"Afraid so," Etean paused. He needed to placate Draco before he lost his temper. "Look, I'll…I'll give it some thought. I might be able to think of something and if I do, I'll let you know. But until then, I'm afraid you and Granger are on your own."

"It certainly appears so, doesn't it?"

Etean rubbed his temple. He was suddenly in no mood to train tonight, and he suspected that Draco wasn't either.

Draco looked at him. "Listen, I'm a little tired for training, so do you mind if we skip it?"

Etean looked sternly at him. "We probably shouldn't," he said in a flat tone, "But one night isn't going to make that much of a difference…I want you to practice though, on your own."

"Fine," Draco shot over his shoulder as he disappeared out of the door.

Etean frowned at the closing portal. 'Granger is having visions?' He snarled. "Duncan," he roared at the top of his lungs, "What did you do to the girl?"

---

Draco fixed his hair in the mirror and straightened his tie. Mentally he was taking this time to prepare himself for the night's work ahead. What he was about to do was difficult, but not impossible. He refused to allow himself to think of the consequences were he to be caught. Apart from the straight forward threat of punishment for rule breaking, there was also Professor Snape's personal reaction to consider. The Potions Master coveted his secrets, and he was not someone to be trifled with, but, if Draco did this right he would never be any the wiser, and Draco was going to do this right. Planning, it all came down to planning. Draco had planned tonight's little excursion down to the last detail…at least he hoped he had.

He mildly wondered where Hermione was. She had been nagging him something awful for the last two days about when he was going to set about getting her the ingredients he had promised her. Draco had lost count of the bizarre ideas and schemes she had dreamt up in order to pull this off. At one point she had even suggested she pick a fight in the Great Hall with Pansy by way of a distraction…he hadn't been able to keep a straight face when he'd heard that one, though the scene he pictured in his head did have a certain appeal. Thoughts of seeing two nubile, fifteen year old girls screaming and pulling each others hair out over him stirred something primitively male in his psyche.

All the same it was a bad idea. Apart from Draco's suspicion that Pansy would win the fight (she would fight dirty), the spectacle of the thing simply wasn't necessary. What Hermione didn't seem understand was that if one had to do something underhanded in Hogwarts, it was better done quietly. Draco didn't blame the girl, subterfuge just wasn't her forte. Years of hanging around with her overachieving playmates had ruined whatever real deviousness she might once have possessed. In the end, he had left her to arrange a venue for the actual brewing of this infernal potion. He shuddered to think of what arrangements she would come up with, but he'd cross that bridge later. Draco mentally checked his plan again, making careful note of the timing of the various stages. The precision of it all made him smile. To hear Potter or the Weasel boy talk, late night adventures in the castle were a chaotic rollercoaster of mishap and lucky escapes. His stomach turned instantly queasy when he remembered listening to them rabbit on about their exploits time and time again. Potter and Co never seemed to realise that their bravado was the precise reason that they got caught more often than not, whereas Draco's escapades, and they weren't few, had largely gone unnoticed. Draco preferred not to get caught, and that meant being quiet and precise. To Draco, breaking rules in Hogwarts was not merely a matter of rebellion or childhood mischief, nor was it to be taken lightly and enjoyed for the hell of it. Skulduggery was an art, meant to be taken slowly and carefully, to be savoured and appreciated.

Draco lifted his empty bag and set it on his desk. He opened the second drawer from the top and took out the bundle of equipment he had prepared earlier for this evening. He resisted the urge to check the bundle, everything was there…he had checked and re-checked it dozens of times. Draco put the bundle into his bag and then chose a couple of books, nothing heavy, just enough to camouflage the bag's real contents. The packaging was magically enhanced to be extra strong, so he had no fear of damaging any of the containers inside. He added his quill and some parchment to complete the package and slung the bag over his shoulder. His gaze drifted to the clock. It was two minutes past eight. 'One minute to go,' he thought as he turned and picked up his cloak. He had no intention of using it, but it didn't hinder him to wear it. 'And you never know what unforeseen circumstances may occur.' He seated the cloak over his head and righted his hair again. He double checked his pockets to make sure he had his wand and the list of ingredients he needed as he watched the seconds tick down. 'Thirty two…thirty one…Rule number One: Plan everything down to the last second if possible. Seven minutes to get to the Great Hall, two minutes to check things out, then five minutes fight or flight time before its on to stage two…fifteen…fourteen…' The only sound in the room was the slow rhythm of the clock, ticking its way down, 'Three…two…one.' Draco spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

He walked, without hurrying, down the stairs and passed unacknowledged through the Common Room. The door clicked shut behind him. Draco paused momentarily to check the corridor…nobody in sight. 'Perfect!' He turned and headed down the corridor, measuring the click of his heels on the stone to keep his pace even. Next came the stairs, he passed a prefect on his climb but ignored her. This wasn't after hours, so there was no reason why Draco shouldn't be walking the castle. There were forty-seven steps to the Entrance Hall. Draco reached the top and paused, the Hall was deserted…'Still perfect.' He checked his watch; the journey had taken him precisely six minutes and fifty three seconds. He smiled and turned to casually stroll around the edge of the entrance hall, making a point of examining the trophies and drapes as he passed. If anyone saw him now, they would assume that he was merely waiting for someone. They would be free to make any presumptions they liked about who.

One minute and fifty eight seconds later, he was outside the doors of the Great Hall. Now was the hinge point. All that remained of his plan relied on what was underway inside the Great Hall. This time was important. If there was any commotion in the castle that could get in his way, he'd have to pick up on it now. Rule number Two: Always leave the back door open. He had, there was nothing stopping him walking away from this plan at any time. Draco had timed his excursion to coincide with the First Year Duelling Club meeting that was scheduled for tonight. By now it should be in full swing and keeping Snape well and truly occupied, but he had to make certain. If Snape wasn't occupied, there was a chance that he'd catch Draco out of sheer dumb luck. Draco pushed the door ajar. Everything depended on what was going on inside.

The bustle from inside was precisely as he expected, the loud clamour of about fifty eleven year old wizards and witches milling about. Draco waited as a round of applause broke out. Now Snape would be calling them to order.

"Alright, settle down…settle down." Draco's heart leapt into his throat. That wasn't Snape's voice. Draco strained to hear. He couldn't make out the owner, but the voice was female. Draco's mind scattered. If Snape wasn't running the meeting, who was? And more importantly, where the fuck was Snape? He checked his watch…his allotted five minutes decision time had dwindled to four minutes and twenty seconds. Swearing under his breath, he pushed the door open and slipped inside. He hoped that he could remain unnoticed while he figured things out.

The first thing he noticed once inside was the identity of the person running the meeting. To his surprise, it was a student. Cho Chang was standing at the referee's platform, counting down to another duel. Draco frowned; there was no sign of Snape anywhere in the hall.

"Three…two…one," Cho counted and the duel was on. The two duellists hesitated for a moment and then moved. Both of them awkwardly cast the same charm, 'Expelliarmus,' at one another, but neither hit their target.

"No…no…no," Draco jumped as Etean's voice bellowed out across the room. His head appeared amidst the crowd. He must have been sitting at the platform to watch the duel. Now he hopped up onto the table and marched toward the Hufflepuff boy at the nearer end to Draco. He didn't sound happy. "How many times do you want me to tell you? Keep your arm level when you cast the charm or else Merlin knows what you'll end up hitting."

The fair haired boy nodded rapidly and opened his mouth to explain himself, but Etean wasn't waiting. He commanded the boy to stand ready and cast the spell again, this time catching him mid swing and correcting his posture for him. Etean had the boy repeat the move over and over several times before he was satisfied. He looked over to where Cho had been giving the other boy a similar lecture.

She looked up and nodded, "Ok then," she said aloud, "let's see if you can't do it better this time." Cho returned to her place at the lectern. Etean caught Draco's eye with a quizzical look before he dropped off the table and headed toward him. Draco would have preferred not to have so much attention drawn to his presence, but he needed to know where Snape was, and Etean might be able to tell him.

Etean's refusal to get involved with Hermione's difficulties had been a surprise. But Draco was more than aware of just how much he was currently dealing with, so he had decided to let it go. He hadn't told Etean about this plan, or about the potion for that matter. There was no real reason for the secrecy, if Etean wanted to he could lift the information right out of Draco's head. Draco knew though, that Etean would see this as a risk that Etean wouldn't approve of him taking. Maybe he was right, maybe this didn't fit into the big picture, but when it came to it, it just wasn't Etean's business. He didn't want to help him, but Draco would be damned if he would let him get in the way. This was for Hermione. Draco didn't know where he'd be without her, and he was going to help her if he could. The potion was the only possible solution that they had for the moment, and Draco had committed to helping her make it.

Draco schooled his features to an expression of honest curiosity. The duel commenced behind Etean as he parted the sea of first years before him. Draco noted that both participants seemed to have a better grasp of what they were doing now. This time they disarmed one another, causing a ruckus of laughter. Etean turned back to the scene for a moment, before laughing and turning to face Draco.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just taking a walk." Draco didn't care if Etean went snooping in his head. He was talking for the benefit of whoever might be listening. 'Paranoia, the key to a scoundrel's survival,' he thought. "Where's Snape?"

Etean rolled his eyes. "Oh, he's in Liverpool I think…he may have said Luton, I'm not sure," was Etean's audible answer. 'What makes you so curious?'

"Oh right, so you got lumbered playing teacher again then?" Draco answered with a smile. 'I was just wondering…the precise location of the Potion's Master is a concern for me right now. Can we leave it at that?'

"Yes," Etean shook his head, "It's good to be me." 'As you wish.'

Draco checked his watch; he had two minutes to decide, go or stay. 'You're sure he isn't in the castle?' he asked as the next duel was called.

Etean made a show of an appraising applause. 'Certain, I watched him fly off on his broom myself.'

'Good enough.' Draco set his mind and he was going ahead with this. Snape might return early, but the odds of him checking his secret potion store when he did were really slight. "I'll see you later," he said, patting Etean on the shoulder. He was halfway through his turn when he stopped. The next duelling pair included a certain Slytherin that caught Draco's attention. The brave little Heather girl was clambering with a little difficulty onto the platform. She took her position and bowed to her opponent – a ruddy faced Gryffindor that Draco thought he knew as Derek something. Cho ordered them to their positions and they stood ready.

"Three…two…one…go!"

Derek cast a tickling charm at Heather. The little Slytherin squealed and jumped aside. She landed on one foot, but managed to level her wand at her opponent. She cast the disarming charm, which her opponent wasn't quick enough to avoid.

"Hey!" Draco hissed as Derek's wand flew through the air and dropped out of sight.

"Friend of yours?" Etean sounded interested.

"What?" Draco asked.

"The kid…Hannah …"

"Heather."

"Heather then, is she a friend of yours?"

Draco shrugged and was about to answer when Heather gave a startled yelp. Apparently she had been standing a little closer to the edge of the platform than she had thought, and in her celebrations of victory, she had stumbled over the edge. She disappeared from view and Draco winced as he heard her hit the floor. Etean swore loudly. "I swear, these kids will be the end of me," he hissed and marched forward.

Draco stood on his toes, trying to see if the kid was alright, but then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Checking his watch, he discovered that he was now a full minute behind his schedule.

"Fuck," he scolded himself as he darted out the door. Rule number Three: Stick to the plan. Draco half considered giving up, he didn't like being behind on his plans, but he had to persevere. With Snape out of the castle, this was seriously his best shot at pulling of this little robbery. There was also the fact that Hermione wanted to start brewing this infernal potion of hers tomorrow, if they had to put it off she would skin him alive, so this was his only chance.

Draco climbed the stairs two at a time in an attempt to catch up on himself. He reached the third floor and ducked down the corridor, straining his ears to hear any possible signs of his being detected. 'Behind…behind…now, right…then second left…then right…then left again…here we are.' He glanced down at his wrist to see that he had regained forty seconds at the expense of his composure. He shook himself and took a deep breath. 'Ok,' he looked around, 'now where is that damned statue?'

The corridor was lined with alcoves, each of which held a single life sized marble statue. Each was the carved image of a former Hogwarts Headteacher. None of the famous ones were here though…there were no images of the almighty founders, or anyone that was in any way worth remembering. In fact the only thing of note about these people was that they were former holders of the school's top job. Not one of them had done anything interesting in their whole life that Draco was aware of. It was only out of obligation to their memory that the school maintained their images at all. Draco had to find the right statue, the problem was that they were all nearly identical. They were all men, all in their late nineties, all wearing full length robes and long beards. Draco ticked off their names as he passed, 'Baldric Diggleworth, Hufflepuff, Neville Pondry, Hufflepuff, Tiberius Drake, Gryffindor, and Xavier Piet, Slytherin.'

Draco smiled as he looked up into the carved face of the ancient statue that guarded the entrance to Snape's little hidey-hole. He checked the corridor left and right, being discovered now would prove a bit awkward, but he was still alone. To be doubly sure, he pushed out his senses and took a better look around, nothing. Draco drew his wand and aimed it at the statues face and said the password,

"James," as loudly as he dared. He waited with baited breath for several long seconds before sighing with relief as the statue responded. Draco stepped aside as it slid forward out of its alcove to reveal the hidden entrance. The possibility that Snape had changed the password had been a major worry for him during his planning, but he had allowed himself the assumption that Snape wouldn't have, it meant something to the Oily one. Draco remembered his utter shock when Snape had told him that password. The idea that he would use the name of his worst enemy to guard his private sanctum had nearly flattened him on the spot. It wasn't until hours later that he had realised the genius of it. Who in their wildest, most bizarre of dreams would ever guess it?

The statue cleared the edge of the alcove. Draco darted as fast as he could around it and skipped silently down the short staircase to the store room below. The statue would close behind him, giving him all the time he needed to rummage for what he needed.

Torches set into the walls ignited the moment he entered the storeroom. Draco eyed the rows of locked cabinets warily. He hoped Snape hadn't moved anything. He only had a vague idea where some of the things he needed were located and he didn't fancy having to search all the presses, he'd be here all night. He slipped his hand into his pocket and took out the list. 'Right…Mermaid tears…three,' he looked up. Mermaid tears were aquatic in nature, so they would be…his gaze settled on the appropriate cupboard…there.

Draco crossed the floor and dropped to his knees. He aimed his wand at the lock and spoke an unlocking charm. Nothing happened. Draco scowled and tried a different spell, and then another. On the fourth try the lock responded. The cupboard door swung outward a fraction. Draco lifted his bag off his shoulder and set it down on the floor. He carefully emptied its contents and took out the sealed bundle. Draco opened it out, glass and metal gleamed at him from within the many pockets. He ignited his wand so that he could see the contents of the cupboard more clearly. He found a bottle of Mermaid tears after a few moments searching. Draco selected a test tube from the bundle and removed the stopper. He transferred the tube to his mouth and picked up the Mermaid tears bottle. He took a breath and held it as he undid the lid and then carefully decanted three drops into the tube. He sealed both the bottle and the tube, and then returned them to their respective places before moving on. Next he needed, 'Horlack hair…seven strands.'

His eyes scanned the presses again. He had no idea where Snape would store that stuff. 'Think Draco…you catalogued this place not ten months ago…where was the Horlack stored?'

He stared at the presses for several seconds before it came to him. 'Horlacks live in isolated mountain regions. They are big, hairy things that look like wingless, fangless dragons wearing fur coats. The best estimates say that there are only about thirty of them left in the world. So would they be with the other mountain creatures,' his eyes found the right press, 'Or with the really rare stuff…'

He snapped his fingers and headed for the endangered species locker, pausing only to grab another test tube from his pack. This cupboard was also locked and Draco discovered, to his chagrin, that he needed a different unlocking curse to open it. 'Damn it, why must Snape be so paranoid?'

Finally he got it open. The sight inside made him jump. He thought for a moment that someone was staring back at him. It took him a few moments to realise that the ghastly shape peering out at him in the torchlight was only a skull. Not that that was an immediate comfort, it was at least not an immediate threat. Draco lifted his wand and shone more light inside the cabinet. He let out a low whistle. 'A minotaur?' he blinked, that was a new addition to Snape's collection. The thing was huge and shaped vaguely like a human skull up to the nose, that's where it got weird. The bone thickened, the forehead sloped up and flattened onto the top of the skull. Two massive horns sprouted from either temple and curved down to vicious looking points before the eyes. Draco marvelled at it. He'd never seen a minotaur skull in the flesh…as it were…before, but he'd heard of them. The minotaur was the most potent source of masculine power in existence. Centuries ago, Grecian kings had coveted them as a symbol of power and strength, mounting them on pikes at the head of their armies before a battle. More to Draco's interest, the broth raised from boiling one was said to be the most powerful aphrodisiac known. It was rumoured to be strong enough to give a ghost an erection. A wicked thought shot into Draco's head, his eyes greedily scanned the shelf, but he found to his disappointment that Snape hadn't made any broth. He did spy a canister of grey paste labelled 'Minotaur Horn Extract - Concentrated,' and picked it up. 'If the broth is that powerful, then what the hell would this do?' he wondered. His curiosity almost got the better of his sense. 'Get a grip, Draco,' he scolded himself, 'Rule number Four: Don't be greedy.' He set the bottle down, that wasn't what he was here for and the more he took, the greater the odds of Snape realising that he'd been here.

'Right…back to work,' he pushed the Minotaur goop out of his mind and started to rummage through the rest of the cupboard.

It took him the greater part of an hour, and in the end he did have to rummage through every single locker, but Draco completed his list. He smiled in satisfaction as he packed up his bounty. It wasn't a total success, none of the pre-made potions that he had been hoping to find were present. He hadn't really expected them to be. Snape wasn't in the habit of storing prepared tonics near raw ingredients; there was just too much risk of cross contamination. Draco stood and re-checked the room to ensure that he had left no trace of his visit, and then paused to ponder. Snape had to have some of the things they needed prepared somewhere, but where? Given how well this storeroom was hidden, finding Snape's potion store could prove to be a real problem indeed. Then it occurred to him that it might not be that much of a problem at all. None of the potions they needed were dangerous, they were just hard to brew. If Snape had any of them, he would probably not feel the need to keep them in such a secure location. 'Think idiot, where?' He wracked his brain for several minutes before a possible solution presented itself. There was a locked cabinet in the back of Snape's office…Draco had never seen inside it. 'But,' he thought, 'it's worth a shot.'

Now he had to figure out a way to get into Snape's office? 'How the hell am I going to do that?' Snape was just as paranoid about the security of his office as he was about this place, maybe more. He always locked the outer door when he wasn't there. The inner door that connected to his classroom was left open when class was on, but that didn't do Draco much good. He couldn't image being able to sneak past Snape and enter his office undetected during a lesson. Cloak or no cloak, that wouldn't work. Time was also a factor to be considered. They needed some Leprechaun Tonic by tomorrow night if they were to keep to Hermione's schedule, which they were. She'd probably have some sort of breakdown if they had to delay it. That meant…he groaned…that meant a second raid in as many days.

It could be done though, the core of a plan formed in his brain. It wasn't pretty, and he would definitely need help, but that was a problem for later. He'd let the idea ferment for the time being. He had allotted himself an hour to do the searching and collecting, and his time was almost up. He placed the bundle into his bag and then carefully covered it with books and other flotsam to disguise its presence once more.

He took a final glance around the room, decided his actions had been as precise and clean as possible and turned on his heel. With a tiny grin, he climbed up the stairs and gently pushed the statue at the top. It wasn't secured from the inside and so he had no trouble opening it. He slipped out and took a hasty look around. The corridor was still deserted. 'Excellent.' He moved off, turning corners at silently until he reached the back staircase. He was supposed to meet Hermione in the Trophy Room in ten minutes, 'Plenty of time.' He smiled in satisfaction.

Draco slipped silently down the stairs to the ground floor, his smile widening with every step. He'd almost forgotten that he didn't want to be caught when he heard voices. He frowned for a moment, wondering where they were coming from. Then he realised, he was hearing them through the window, they were coming from outside. Draco moved over to the window and peered outside through a crack in the frosted pane. He instantly recognised the figure of Professor Dumbledore standing not twenty feet away talking to a large, hulking shadow,

"Are you sure that you do not require Madame Pomfrey's assistance, Firenze?"

The shadow moved out into the moonlight, now Draco could identify the towering palomino centaur. Draco could clearly see blood stains on its normally glossy golden fur. It bowed its head to talk to the Headmaster. "There is no need to summon your nurse, Professor Dumbledore, I am unharmed. The marks you see are of no concern." Despite its words, the beast moved uncertainly, as though it were hurt.

"I find that hard to believe, my friend, I know the punishment that your people promised you should you venture again into the forest…a threat that it appears they have endeavoured to make good on. I apologise again for having to ask this of you."

"There is no need for you to concern yourself with my wellbeing, Professor Dumbledore, the will of the stars led me to this place and I do not question their wisdom." Draco rolled his eyes at the sound of the centaur's quasi-religious nonsense. He still could not fathom the Headmaster's decision to employ a centaur. Initially, it had been an attempt to get under Delores Umbridge's skin, but she was long gone now. So why had Dumbledore not sent the thing packing?

"Quite so," Dumbledore sounded tired, "who are any of us to question the stars?" He delivered the line with no trace of scorn. Draco was impressed. "Have they conferred their decision to your Matriarch?"

Draco leaned forward. This conversation was starting to sound interesting. The centaur pawed the ground slightly. "Forgive me, Professor Dumbledore, but hearing a human refer to the Purest One in such a direct manner is most unsettling. I of course, realise that you meant no insult by it."

"Indeed," Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, "I would never intend such a thing. My question was broached out of an honest desire to conclude this conversation so that you may take your leave to rest."

"I require no rest except to meditate beneath the gaze of the stars," Firenze said dreamily, casting its gaze skyward. "Though I fear that they have chosen to veil themselves tonight. The great weight of the current times, while insignificant to them, can not be unnoticed I fear," it shuffled and pawed the ground again, "My dreams have been troubled of late."

"As have mine," the Headmaster answered.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Draco marvelled at the degree of patience that Dumbledore seemed to possess. Firenze still hadn't answered his question. If it had been Draco, he'd have been screaming at the centaur by now.

At last, and in its own time, Firenze spoke. "The stars have withheld their decision from the Purest One. She neither gave, nor did I seek any further explanation, but she bade me to speak to you thus: The centaur race has forever followed a single law above all else when we deal with other races, we do not harm foals," the centaur raised a single golden arm and waved at the castle, "This place is a place where your foals reside, and your words are that it is in jeopardy. The Purest One has considered this and she agrees, even the wind speaks of the coming storm. The centaurs would prefer that you see to their defence on your own, as is right," the centaur paused to scan the sky again, it seemed pensive, "It is the decision of the Purest One, however, that her brethren cannot stand by and do nothing if their inaction leads to the death of your foals. So, with great trepidation, and only at the last hour of need, she offers them her protection. At your darkest hour, she bids you to call her as you have been instructed, and the centaurs will answer."

Dumbledore was actually visibly relieved. "My eternal thanks go to you and your people, Firenze. It is still my most fervent hope that such a measure will not be needed, but knowing that it is there will allow me sleep better at night. Now, my friend, I can delay you no longer, go, find what rest you need…with my thanks."

They both bowed and then parted without another word. Draco straightened up, unsure of what he had just witnessed. Had the centaurs just joined the war on Dumbledore's side? It kind of sounded like it, but then it was always damn near impossible to understand just what a centaur was actually saying. On the rare occasions that they gave direct answers to questions, the answers made little or no sense. Still, they had agreed to help, sort of.

Draco wanted to feel happy, but the truth was that all the talk of 'the greatest hour of need' had left him feeling hollow. How far would things have to go, how near to the end of all things would they have to get before the centaurs would help them? And what help could they give? Were they a force to match Voldemort's army of evil creatures? Even if they were, and Draco seriously doubted it, could they be trusted? They were animals after all, talking animals, but animals all the same. Draco leaned against the window in thought. If Etean's view of the war was even near accurate, then Dumbledore was hardly in any position to turn down any help, no matter where it came from.

'But still,' Draco scowled, "centaurs guarding Hogwarts? What's next…Battalions of House Elves?' Draco shook his head at the mental picture of dozens of tiny armoured elves, strangely enough, all wearing tea cosies on their heads for helmets. He pictured them marching and chanting little songs about scrubbing floors. He scowled, that was a ridiculous notion, the centaurs…not so much. At least they could look the part, standing seven feet tall and bearing the weight of a full sized stallion. Add armour and maybe a good sized pike and you got an impressive eyeful and no mistake. The sight of a full herd of them charging white mouthed with abandon would be enough to scare anyone into immediate surrender. It would just be a sight though, no substance. Centaurs were, for want of a better word, spiritual creatures. They were priests, not warriors. While priests had been known to be effective fighters in the past, Draco knew which he'd rather have on his side. When your back was to the wall, you wanted someone by your side that was ready to kill, not someone who was forever pre-occupied with stargazing and…Draco paused, and they were completely obsessed with visions.

Any mention of that topic lately caught his attention. The centaur race was famous for being devout followers of divination. It was the fervent belief of every centaur that they could see the future if they could interpret the movements of the stars correctly. He had heard that those amongst the centaur race that actually had real visions were elevated to the status of royalty. If they took visions that seriously, then did they know of a way to help Hermione? He almost laughed at the idea of asking a monster for help, but he found his own words coming back at him. This potion, even if it worked, was still only a temporary solution, were he and Hermione in any position to turn down help themselves?

He looked at his watch and realised that he was now late for his meeting with Hermione. Without wasting another minute, he headed off to the Trophy room.

---

"Meet me in the Trophy Room at precisely twenty to ten tonight," Hermione remembered her earlier conversation with Draco.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?"

Draco had rolled his eyes. "No, for the last time, no," he stood up, lifting her from his lap and dropping her onto her feet, "Now I have to go get ready," a quick kiss on her forehead, "see you later," and he was gone.

That was three hours ago, it was nearly time for her to leave to go meet him. The evening had dragged out so much that Hermione had actually checked her watch on several occasions to make sure it hadn't stopped. Ginny had tried three times to strike up a conversation, but Hermione hadn't been able to keep up. She wished that she hadn't made all her preparations earlier, at least that way she'd have had something to do all evening. Had it worked? Would it work? Could Draco get everything they needed? Had he been caught?

She chewed her lip and stared at the fire. This was too much, she was about to burst not knowing. Shit, someone was talking to her,

"What?" she frowned, turning to face Lavender.

Her housemate, who was amongst the few who had started to talk to her again, shook her head. "I asked if you had your charms book with you," she pointed down at Hermione's bag, which was lying beside her chair.

Hermione looked down. "Yes," she said. The book should be in there. She reached out for her bag to dig it out.

"Well can I have a loan of it?"

"Sure," Hermione took a moment to realise that even though she had intended to reach for her bag, her arm hadn't moved. She stared down at it, momentarily seeing a flash of Draco's dead skin that made her shiver. Her arm was lying on the arm of her chair, she concentrated, willing it to move. At last it did, she reached down hurriedly and tugged the bag open, "here," she said as she passed the book over. Her arm felt oddly numb, as though it were asleep. Lavender took the book and thanked her before returning to her seat and getting back to her homework. Hermione started silently making fists over and over, trying to wake her fingers. Ginny appeared at her elbow.

"What does this symbol mean?"

Hermione blinked down at the book that Ginny was holding out before her, Etean's book. "What?" she looked up at her friend, "When did you take that back?"

Ginny shook her head. "Damn Hermione, have you heard a word I said to you tonight?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked you about an hour ago where this was so I could get it. You don't remember?"

Hermione hadn't a clue what Ginny was talking about. Her words from earlier were all a blur in Hermione's head. "No," she said sheepishly.

Ginny snarled. "Malfoy really has you messed up, do you know that?" she ruffled Hermione's hair, "Now focus for a minute," she pointed to the book, "This symbol."

Hermione looked down, the symbol that Ginny was pointing at was familiar. It looked vaguely like a snake coiled into a crescent shape. Her eyes moved to the other page, the English that she knew would be explaining the symbols. "I…I think it's called 'Rohyen.'"

"I know what it's called," Ginny said, "but what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure…do you have…" Ginny tossed her a scroll, "my notes."

Hermione unfolded the notes she had made from the Valkar book. She had tried to lay things out clearly for Ginny to understand. Based on the few confused comments that had been added in Ginny's tiny scrawl, she hadn't been all that successful. She ignored them and skipped down to the section dealing with the Valkar written language and searched for the specific symbol. The problem with translating Valkar into English came from the nature of the Valkar alphabet…they didn't have one. Their language was based on symbols and imagery. The symbols they used didn't represent letters or even words as such, rather each glyph represented an idea or theme. The problem was that most themes cannot be solely defined in a single word. As a result, the symbols all had many meanings depending on context. Hermione decided against explaining all of that to Ginny. Instead she turned the page and showed it to her. "Here you go. Rohyen can mean a lot of different things depending on the other symbols it's grouped with."

"Oh," Ginny scowled, "damn."

"Why?"

Ginny shook her head. She closed the book and held out a piece of parchment for Hermione to read. Three glyphs were arranged in a neat horizontal row. Hermione looked at them, puzzled. "Robert decided that I needed a little challenge. He gave me this and told me I'd get a prize if I figured out what it says."

"Huh?" Hermione frowned. A lot of Valkar glyphs were explained in this book, but that was only a small fraction. "But this book isn't a dictionary…why would you be able to work it out from this?"

"He claims that there is enough in here for me to do it. So, any ideas?" she looked hopeful.

Hermione looked at the note, of the three symbols, she recognised Rohyen in the centre and Sendere on the end, the first one, which resembled a broken cross, she couldn't name. "The symbols are arranged in a horizontal row," she scanned her notes, that meant something, "Horizontal means that the middle word will be the pivot, changing those on either side of it."

Ginny looked blankly at her. "Is that a fact?"

"Yes," Hermione answered absently. "Now let me see, Rohyen means power…command…maybe demand. Sendere is heat…fire…flames…burning. And the last one…" she trailed off and flicked through the book again, finally she found it: "Odel, possession…ownership…greed."

Ginny dropped onto the couch. "So what does this mean then?"

Hermione frowned, sorting it all out. 'Odel Rohyen Sendere… Greed…Power…Fire…Greedy powerful fire?' She shook her head; that made no sense. Translation wasn't about being literal, she reminded herself. The Valkar used ideas not words, greed was acquisition at all costs … accumulate … consume … devour … Rohyen was the pivot, so it would change the meaning … powerful greed? And then there was the fire … powerful fire? An idea started to form in her head, stitching it all together. It started to make sense to her. She thought knew what it said, she just had to express it in her own words. "Something like: 'The all consuming fire,' I think," even as she said it, she knew that it was probably wrong, but it was the best she could do.

Ginny sat back and looked pensive. "Are you sure?"

"No," Hermione checked her watch and nearly leapt out of her skin, after a night of waiting, she would now be late. She stuffed the notes into Ginny's lap and headed for the door, "but it's something like that I'm sure…I'll see you later."

"Where are you going?" Ginny called after her.

"What?" Hermione paused for a moment, "Oh, just for a walk."

She didn't wait for any further commentary before she bolted through the Portrait Hole. Hermione took the stairs at a reckless pace, leaping three at a time on her descent. She was completely out of breath by the time she hit the floor of the Entrance Hall at a run and shot down the corridor to the Trophy Room. Draco was sitting, looking completely relaxed, with his back against the quidditch cabinet.

He looked up at her as she bent double, clutching a stitch in her side. "Glad you could make it," he said dryly, "You're ten minutes late by the way."

"I…I know….but….was…delayed," she panted.

"Well at least you got some exercise," he commented as he stood up, "So, where to?"

"What?"

He scowled. "You did find somewhere for us to brew this damned potion yes?"

"Yes," she took a deep breath and finally managed to straighten up, "Did you get…everything?"

Draco frowned. "I got enough to be getting on with," he pointed to the door, "So lead on."

Hermione nodded, her eyes lingering for a moment on his bag. "Come on then," she said and headed out, "Remember, if anyone asks we're just two prefects out on patrol."

"I do remember, Hermione," Draco sidled up beside her and took hold of her hand, "But, honestly, do you think that will wash with anyone?"

"Maybe not, but still, what else would we say?"

Draco moved behind her, still holding her hand. His movements made her spin round. When she stopped, she found herself in his arms. Her hair had fallen down over her face, covering her eyes. She tried without success to blow it away.

Draco released her hand and brushed her fringe aside. "We wouldn't have to say anything. They would make their own assumptions all on their own."

He moved forward to kiss her, but she drew back. "They'd be wrong though."

"Would they?" his eyebrows arched, "And would they know that?"

He leaned in again and this time she let him kiss her for a second. "Ok then," she parted from him and stood upright, "but we really shouldn't linger here, unless you want to get caught, that is."

Draco stepped back and gestured her forward. He didn't seem nervous about sneaking about, but if she were to guess, she'd say it was an act. Hermione wasn't that good an actor. She was shaking. She found herself gripping his hand again for dear life. Her hopes were pinned on this working, she couldn't bear to fail before they had even tried. She moved on, eager to get on with the business at hand. There would be plenty of time to waste later. They made their way in silence. Even so, she shushed Draco and moved on tiptoe when it came time to walk past the doors of the Hospital wing. She knew that Madame Pomfrey liked to keep unusual hours.

"Where are we going?" Draco sounded pensive.

"Shhh," she rounded on him, then froze to listen for any signs of movement outside of the two of them, "Come on," she mouthed to him and hurried on. She understood Draco's trepidation. Doubtless he had surmised their destination and wasn't happy about it. She didn't blame him.

Hermione came to a halt next to the hidden entrance to Draco's former abode and turned to face him. Just as she had suspected, he didn't look at all pleased to be back. He scowled. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

Hermione took hold of his hand to reassure him. "Can you think of a better place? Outside of the two of us, who even knows that this room is here?"

"Dumbledore for one, and Madame Pomfrey…probably every other teacher too for that matter. We may as well advertise."

He was upset, and he wasn't thinking clearly. She reached up and stroked his chin to get his full attention. "That may be true, but they all think that this room is empty now. They have no reason to ever go in there," she smiled, "Besides, I changed the password so that even Dumbledore would have to break his way in." She could feel Draco's teeth grind beneath his skin. Going back to this room was really hard for him, "I know you don't like it, Draco, and I'm sorry that I got you in to this," she reached for his bag, "Just give me the ingredients and I'll take it from there."

Hermione smiled weakly at him. Draco frowned down at her. His hand caught hers and pulled it away from her bag, "No," he said, "I agreed to help you…and you have a point about the room. So what's the new password?"

"Lupie," Hermione answered.

Draco's frown deepened. "Loopy? As in crazy?"

"No, Lupie as in the great big wolf that I chase every damned night," she said flatly, "But your definition also applies I suppose."

Draco squeezed her hand painfully. "If I have to tell you one more time, Granger, I swear I'll scream…you are not going crazy."

"I know," she said to cut off the impending lecture, "I know…"

"Say it!" he demanded, his eyes narrowed to twinkling slits.

"I am not going crazy!" she said. 'I hope,' she added glumly inside her head.

Draco nodded, then guided her to the door. He spoke the password aloud and the wall parted. Hermione led the way as they entered. Inside, she found everything as she had left it. Her spare cauldron – this thing would have to brew for at least a week and she needed her main one – was set up in the middle of the floor with two preparation tables, one at either side, ready for them to get to work. Draco moved past her and examined the set up. He nodded several times and then frowned. "House elves? They clean this room."

Hermione had thought of that. "I had a word with Dobby, he promised to keep an eye on things for us…he thinks this is an extra credit assignment," she added when she saw his shocked expression.

After a moment, he shook his head. "You seriously trust a House Elf with this?"

"Yes…Dobby's very smart, he won't let us down."

"If you say so," he didn't sound convinced, "So what do we do first?"

"Let me see what you've got," she moved over toward the bed as Draco dropped his bag. He rummaged and took out a small parcel and handed it to her. Hermione's fingers were trembling as she undid the fastening and opened it out.

"Do you always shake like that when you open presents?" Draco was behind her now, his arms found their way around her waist as his chin came to rest on her shoulder.

"Just the important ones," she answered. Her eyes hungrily devoured the various tubes and bottles inside the package. 'Great,' she thought, relieved. Draco had gotten everything they needed. All but… "Leprechaun Tonic…Kneazle Broth?"

"Afraid not…no sign."

Hermione's heart sank. "Then we're sunk," she said glumly. Careful planning had reduced the time to brew this concoction down from a fortnight to a week, but if they had to brew the other potions… "This will take forever."

The Kneazle Broth couldn't be brewed for almost a month…which seemed like an eternity to Hermione right now. And she didn't even know where to start looking for Leprechauns. 'Maybe Seamus would know…'

"I wouldn't say that," Draco moved his hands up and rubbed her shoulders, "If I thought we were stuck, I wouldn't have bothered stealing all of this stuff…its not like I need a dried Fairy Heart for anything, is it?"

"No, the one you've got is dry enough," she didn't know where that answer came from, but it made her smile to feel him tense suddenly in surprise.

"You know, you don't sound very grateful considering all the effort I put in tonight. Just for that, maybe I won't help you get the rest of the ingredients."

Hermione turned and looped her arms around his neck before he could move away. "What do you mean?" She could tell from the look on his face that he had an idea.

He looked at her, a grin flickering across his face. "What's it worth to you?"

Hermione pulled him down and kissed him deeply. "That good enough?" she smiled, "Or do I have to bite?"

Draco's eyebrow arched. He said nothing for several seconds until Hermione bared her teeth and let out a low growl. Draco drew back. "Snape's office," he said, sounding slightly worried, "there's a hidden store behind one of the display cases where Snape keeps some of his secrets. If he has any Leprechaun Tonic, it'll be there."

Hermione frowned. Draco certainly seemed to know a hell of a lot about where things were hidden in Hogwarts. "How do you know about it, if nobody's supposed to?"

"I have my ways." He grinned smugly at her.

That grin was designed to get a rise out of Hermione, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. She simply turned away and returned her attention to the ingredients. 'Back to work!' She grabbed the first few ingredients from the packet and then bent down to retrieve the bundle of more mundane supplies that she'd hidden beneath the bed. She heard Draco cough and then froze. A fierce blush spread across her face when she realised how suggestive her posture was. She could feel her bum pressing into Draco's groin as he stood behind her. Draco's hands had found their way down there too. His touch was light, but it was enough to startle her. Hermione hastily grabbed the bundle and stood up. "Sorry," she coughed and walked away toward the cauldron. She arranged the ingredients on the table in front of her, mentally listing out the steps ahead, trying to forget her embarrassment.

In a second, Draco was behind her again, nuzzling her neck. "I wasn't complaining," there was a suggestive tone in his voice that made Hermione nervous.

She shifted from foot to foot. "Erm…we need to get to work Draco," she said in as clear a voice as she could.

Draco seemed to catch on, he kissed her neck quickly and then released her. "Whatever you say," he said without a hint of disappointment. "So what do you want me to do?"

Hermione took out her wand and filled the cauldron two thirds of the way up. "Grind up the scarab shells and the Billiwig sting. They need to be completely mixed as powder."

Draco nodded, picked up the scarabs and set to work. Hermione felt herself blush again slightly before she selected the fairy heart and added it to the cauldron. She picked up her wand and then carefully brought the water to a boil. She kept her eyes fixed on the tiny black lump as it bobbed in the water, trying not to think of the beautiful creature that had died to provide it. When she saw it start to dissolve, Hermione began to stir the cauldron. She continued to do so until she lost sight of the tiny organ, then she picked up the Mermaid tears and carefully added one drop to the mix.

"Fine enough?" Draco asked, showing her the pestle in his hand.

"Not quite," she answered, "the book said fine powder."

Draco accepted this and took up his mortar again without a word. The next hour passed in silence. The only words spoken were Draco asking for instructions and Hermione giving them. Hermione felt uncomfortable. For the first time in a long time she felt awkward around Draco, and she didn't like it. She couldn't bring herself to mention it however, so she just kept working. Eventually, her time ran out, they completed all the necessary steps.

Draco added the last of the scarab powder and set down his measuring spoon. "What now?"

"Nothing," Hermione checked her notes just to be sure, "We have to let it reduce down for two hours before we let it cool…then we have twenty four hours before we need to add the Leprechaun Tonic and the next Mermaid tear."

Draco stepped back and stretched, "So what do we do for two hours?" he asked innocently. Hermione swallowed hard as another fire spread across her cheeks. Draco yawned and walked toward the bed. "Ah hello old friend," he said sarcastically as he ran his fingers across the wooden foot of the bed. He seemed to have recovered from any difficulty he had with their surroundings. Their surroundings, and that bed in particular, was a pretty major difficulty for Hermione right now. She hadn't even considered it when she had chosen this venue. 'Damn!' Hermione felt a knot form in her throat as she watched him stretch out on the bed and grin up at her. "You know, this is pretty comfortable," lifted himself onto his elbow and patted the bed beside him invitingly, "Why don't you join me?"

Panic hit Hermione in the face like cold water. He didn't mean… She had to fight to get any sound out of her mouth. "Erm…Draco I…I don't…"

"I know," he said quietly, "you know you are very presumptuous, Hermione," he preened himself and then made a show of examining his nails, "Not that I blame you, but I am not that easy."

He smiled at her. Hermione's eyes narrowed. She could see it in his face that he actually did know what was bothering her. He was joking about to ease her worries. She forced herself to calm down. It wasn't like there was any harm in what he was suggesting after all. They had time to kill and he just wanted to get comfortable. She liked being comfortable with him, but could she… 'Damn it, Granger, get over it!' She walked over and sat down, after a moment she worked up the courage to lie down next to him.

Draco laughed. "Will you relax!" he said, reaching out to pinch her side where it tickled. Hermione winced and giggled at the same time, but did manage to relax for a moment. She rolled onto her side and smiled at him. She knew it wouldn't last though, she was just not going to be able to relax for long unless she had something to occupy her.

'Business…stick to business,' "So…how do you plan on getting into Snape's office?"

Draco's lips pursed. "Well…it isn't going to be easy, but I've been giving it some thought this last hour."

"And…"

"And," he sighed, "I'm afraid that we're going to have to borrow a page out of Saint Potter's bible of rule breaking."

Hermione frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Well," Draco moved closer to her and brushed her hair from her eyes again, "I'm not sure you're going to like this…"

---

Draco opened his eyes. Something had woken him, but he didn't know what it was. He looked up at the ceiling above him. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Then he remembered. 'Fuck,' he thought, 'why did Hermione have to decide on coming here?' The walls of this room brought nothing but bad memories to Draco; he had hoped never to see this place again. Feelings of depression and despair that he had thought he had left behind him came rushing back. The great empty pit in his gut loomed wide once more. He shut his eyes and forced himself to focus on other things. Thankfully there was something at hand.

Hermione moved against his ribs, turning her head this way and that in her nightmare. She looked so helpless lying there beside him, Draco's heart went out to her. It was such a contrast to earlier. The memory of her face when he'd suggested they make use of the bed was hilarious. It had put Draco in mind of a frightened rabbit caught in bright torchlight. She had actually thought that he was going to jump her. Draco smiled, he wouldn't mind the opportunity to tell the truth, but it didn't require the full use of a single synapse to work out that Hermione wasn't ready to take that particular step just yet. Draco looked down at her, gently tightening his grip to steady her. He could wait. Her brows knitted and un-knitted. Draco wondered what twisted images were flashing through her mind.

"Nhhh…no nhh…g…way," she muttered.

"Shh," Draco soothed. He ran a hand down her back in an attempt to settle her. It didn't work. "No…nhhhh…NO!" she shouted and snapped awake. Her eyes looked around rapidly in confusion before they settled on him. Draco almost heard the question coming. "You're awake," he said quietly, "I promise."

Hermione frowned for a second, then sagged. Her head landed on his chest as she buried her face in his robes. "Sorry," she said.

Even muffled the way her voice was, Draco was almost sure that she was crying. "Hey," he lifted her head, "you don't need to apologise. It was just a bad dream."

"You don't know…" she started, but then trailed off.

Draco took a deep breath, he didn't know but, "I'd like to. Why don't you tell me about it?"

Her eyes connected with his in a sudden movement. "It was the same as all the rest…I told you…"

"But I don't know why they scare you so much," Draco said. This was dangerous territory. Hermione didn't like talking about her dreams, but not knowing was driving Draco mad.

"How would you like to be naked and alone and have hundreds of people staring at you?" she said defensively.

"Easy," Draco whispered, running a hand down her face, "I was only asking. You told me what happens, but, if it's always the same dream…shouldn't you…I don't know…be used to it by now?"

Hermione lowered her head into his robes again, shaking it slowly. "Maybe I should, but I'm not. The eyes…they aren't just looking at me."

"No?"

"No…it's like they're examining me…judging me."

Draco didn't understand her. "Judging you? How?"

"I don't know…it's not something I can explain…but they are all there to sit in judgement on me…I know it…and I know that I'm not worthy…"

She trailed off into a fit of sobs. Draco moved her gently up along him until he could properly put his arms around her. Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck and sobbed her heart out while he rocked her and tried his best to soothe her to no avail. Finally Hermione's predicament made sense to him. In some weird way, Hermione had failed a test. In fact, she was failing the same test over and over again and there was nothing she could do about it. The fact that it was one that she didn't understand only made it worse.

She continued to sob regardless of his words of comfort for a long time. Finally she came to her senses, slightly. "Sorry," she apologised again.

Draco decided not to bother admonishing her for it. "It's alright. I'm sorry I asked."

"No," she sniffed hard, "you had every right to ask. You've helped me so much…you don't even know," she paused and looked him in the eye, "I think I'd have gone under by now if it wasn't for you."

'Right back at you!' Draco smiled at her. "Who'd have thought that you would ever say that to me?"

She laughed. "Not me, that's for sure…but it's true nonetheless."

Hermione smiled, and then yawned. She looked completely exhausted. "Go back to sleep," Draco adjusted her position in his arms to let her lie out.

Hermione shook her head. "No…I can't…they'll still be there."

He smiled at her. "Maybe," he kissed her forehead, "But I know that I'll be here, so they won't keep you. I won't let them."

She returned his smile sleepily. "Promise?"

"I promise, now…shhhh."

Hermione's smile faded. Her eyes fluttered closed. Draco watched her closely as she settled and drifted off to sleep. She looked at peace. Draco wanted nothing more for her than to stay like that for the rest of the night but it wasn't to be. Painfully soon, her eyes started to dart about behind their lids. Her legs started to wriggle and twitch. If the dreams were holding their pattern, then she'd be chasing the wolf right about now. That did it. 'We are getting this potion made,' Draco made his silent vow, 'I don't care if I have to blast Snape apart to do it, I will get those potions for her.' Draco sighed, his plan had to work. He didn't like it, it was too messy…too public…too Potter-esque, but it had to work…it was going to work. He set about the task of finalising the details as he waited for Hermione's nightmare to wake her up again.

---

Draco checked his watch, eleven thirty, one hour to lunch. He paused outside the Common Room. 'Here goes.' He spoke the password and entered.

Thursday mornings were amongst the busiest in Hogwarts, for sixth years especially. All the really popular classes, charms, transfiguration and divination were all on at the same time. As a result the dorm would be all but deserted. Every sixth year Slytherin was enrolled in at least one of those classes…almost. Draco smiled as he heard the grunting noises from within the Common Room, the idiots were inside. Crabbe and Goyle, recognised universally, even by themselves, as total and utter morons, had chosen a timetable to suit their interests. Care of Magical Creatures, even those two could look after flobberworms, most of the time, and Potions, where Snape's Slytherin privileges offered them some shelter. Seeing as how they needed three subjects to complete their schedule, they had both elected to take Magical History, they knew that they'd fail it, but at least they could get some more sleep during classes.

So while everyone else was attending class, they were now sitting alone in the Common Room, trying to dislocate each other's arms in what they would call arm-wrestling. They both saw him and looked up, momentarily perplexed by Draco's appearance. He was supposed to be in charms, but this was more important. Goyle leaned forward and whispered something to Crabbe. Draco made out the words. 'Slumming it,' as he painted a false smile on his face and walked over to the fireplace. The two hulks collapsed into a fit of giggles and titters. Draco spread his smile wider. He moved in behind Crabbe, using his bulk to prevent Goyle from seeing him drawing his wand. 'We'll see who's laughing in a minute, Pea brain.'

Draco paused. How had it come to this? Needing Crabbe and Goyle for his plan was bad enough, but now he had to put up with them mocking him? No way.

"Having fun?" he asked in a nonchalant air. Neither boy answered him, but Draco hadn't expected them to. He laughed, seeming to go along with their joke. "Goyle…you must tell me that joke sometime," he nodded to Crabbe, "Vincent here seems to really like it. Isn't that right Vinnie?"

Anyone else would have seen the danger coming, anyone else wouldn't dream of laughing at Draco while he was standing right behind him without at least looking around once. Crabbe, however, was an idiot. Draco's smile never wavered. Quick as a flash, he raised his wand and spoke a curse that he seldom had the need to use under his breath. He caught the thin steel cord as it appeared out of his wand and coiled it rapidly around his fingers. In less than a second, he twisted the garrotte around Crabbe's thick neck. He pulled it tight and pressed the heel of his hand into the base of Crabbe's skull to increase the pressure. The oaf gagged harshly and reached up, his thick fingers scrambled and scratched at the cord but could find no purchase.

Draco leaned back on his right leg to keep his hold. He glared up at Goyle who was in the process of comprehending what he had just seen. Draco counted to three before the twit moved. "Hold it, Goyle," he hissed through his clenched teeth, "I wouldn't want to hurt your boyfriend here." He locked eyes with Goyle and glared him down, "I think you forgot…what with the hilarity of your effervescent wit distracting you and all…that laughing at my expense is NOT a good idea. Now," he leaned back and tugged harder at Crabbe's neck, "have I got your complete attention?"

Goyle didn't answer. He looked as though he was still trying to work out the word 'hilarity' before he assaulted the far off, snowy peak of 'effervescent', but a strangled cough from Crabbe got through to him. He nodded, sending his jowls wobbling sickeningly. Draco held on for a three count, and then freed his prisoner. He wound the garrotte wire round his right fist as the massive lump coughed and spluttered and slid down onto his knees seeking air. "Remember this lesson, you two, because next time I might not let go."

Goyle's brow furrowed. "You back then, Draco?" he growled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "When did I leave?" he asked, "but to answer the question that you should have asked, no, I haven't stopped seeing Hermione, nor will I in the near future." The two boys looked at one another, Crabbe sat back rubbing his neck. Draco didn't have several hours for them to work out what was going on, so he just sat down and joined his hands. "Now…believe it or not, I'm not angry with either of you. You're both far too dense to know better…that isn't to say that I'll tolerate it in the future mind you, but the slate is clean as of now," he paused, "At least it will be, when you have done me a little favour."

"What?" Crabbe coughed.

Draco laughed. "Oh don't worry…it wont be anything complicated…in fact I think you two will rather enjoy it."

He set about explaining his plan. He had to do it several times, and very slowly in parts, but in the end they seemed to get it. "Right," he said, standing up, "Do you understand?"

Goyle looked to Crabbe. "Yes…but…"

"No, Goyle, but nothing…I am not asking you to do this, I'm telling you," he turned to Crabbe, "both of you. I have explained it, you understand it…now you are going to do it…and you are NOT going to mess it up," he waved the wire coil in front of Crabbe's eyes, "Do you hear me?" Crabbe nodded, he looked to Goyle, another nod, "Fine, I'll see you at lunch…be p…" he started to say 'prompt', but who was he kidding, "Be on time."

Draco turned to leave, pausing to check the printed timetables on the notice board. His plan was shaping up. Tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee may not be bright, but even those two couldn't mess this up. Now all he needed was the assistance of a certain plucky kid and all things would be set.

---

Hermione sat at the table, listening to the girls around her giggle away merrily. Most were still pretty cool with her, but they didn't seem to mind her presence. Lavender had even started to make certain hints along the lines that she wanted to ask Hermione some searching, and very personal questions. Hermione felt her stomach churn at that. Lavender probably wouldn't like the answers…they were bothering Hermione if she was honest about it. Her gaze moved to Draco. He gave her a quick wink and a smile. He was going to enjoy this, she assumed glumly. She looked to Harry and Ron at the end of the table…they weren't going to enjoy it.

Betrayal, Hermione hated betrayal. She hadn't liked betraying Draco when those two had convinced her to bait him for their little interrogation, and she wasn't any happier about betraying them now, even if, or perhaps because it was for her own benefit. She shut her eyes for a moment and thought about the dreams, and how this little scheme of Draco's was ultimately intended to put a stop to them. That made her feel a little bit better. 'Harry and Ron would understand,' she told herself, 'if they knew what was going on that is.'

She growled to herself quietly. 'What the hell are you worrying about those two for?'

Hermione sighed, that wasn't her thought. 'Great…you're back,' she thought miserably.

'Yes…it would certainly seem so…and just in time too. You aren't seriously worried about hurting those two prats' feelings after they have been so horrible to you, are you?' the voice answered.

Hermione shook her head slightly. If she was going nuts, why did she have to be so unpredictable about it? She decided to ignore its question and pose one of her own. 'Where did you go?' she asked the voice angrily.

'Settle down now,' came the answer, 'I'm here now, aren't I?'

Hermione checked her watch. It was just about show time. If she was going to warn Harry and Ron, she'd have to do it now.

'Why in Merlin's name would you do that?' the voice snapped at her, 'It isn't like they deserve your concern now is it?'

'They're my friends though.'

The voice laughed. 'Are they? You could have fooled me.' It dissolved into raucous laughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Shut up,' she ordered it, 'You aren't helping.'

The laughter died. 'Well I would if you let me…I helped you the other night didn't I?'

'Yeah, and scared the hell out of me. Did you have to show me Draco's hand?'

There was a sigh inside her head. 'Unfortunately, I couldn't control that…the dreams are not my doing…I just thought you'd prefer that one to the alternative for a change.'

Hermione thought about it, given a choice, she would prefer anything to those damned eyes. 'So why didn't you do it again last night? Or the night before?'

'Sorry Honey,' the voice cooed, 'it just isn't that simple.'

Hermione was about to answer when she realised that Harry was standing up. He and Ron had finished lunch. She looked over to Draco, he had spotted it too. 'Here we go,' she thought to herself, determined to ignore the voice if it decided to pester her anymore. This was no time to be arguing with one's self.

Draco looked down the length of the Slytherin table and nodded. Hermione followed his gaze and saw a small dark haired first year…Draco's little friend she presumed…clamber from the table and skip out of the Hall. Hermione stood up, excused herself from the table and moved to follow Harry and Ron as they left amongst the other Gryffindor boys. Harry cleared the door. Hermione waited and sure enough, there was Heather skipping toward him. 'The size of her!' she thought, 'Draco must be nuts, this will not work.' Hermione watched in astonishment as with calm confidence, the little girl slipped in amongst the boys and moved up behind Harry. With cat-like grace and skill, Heather slipped a single tiny hand into Harry's trouser pocket and drew it out a second later, holding Harry's wand tight in her fingers. Hermione stopped and goggled. The kid had done it, she had actually done it. She had lifted Harry Potter's wand from his pocket and he hadn't even noticed. Seamus did though.

"Hey," he roared as Heather bolted for the dungeon steps, "Harry, that little snake's got your wand!"

The boys stopped in their tracks. Harry patted his pockets for a moment, then looked up. "Oi," he bellowed, "You little…Come back!" He took off, the rest followed him. Other students in the Entrance Hall looked stunned as the crowd raced past them. Behind her, Hermione could hear the commotion begin to spread through the Great Hall.

"Snape's office," Draco whispered in her ear, "five minutes." He gave her rear end a slight pinch. "For luck," he shouted as he raced off after Harry and the others. Hermione looked at his retreating back for a moment. She had to hand it to Draco, this might actually work after all. She turned and raced off to the rear staircase. She had her duties in this little enterprise too.

---

Draco pelted down the dungeon stairs. He could hear the commotion ahead of him as Potter and the Weasel Brigade chased Heather as she weaved her merry way through the dungeons. Draco had had his doubts about involving her. He had been worried that she wouldn't be able to pull it off. The look in her eyes when he had suggested it however had put paid to any doubts he had. She had been practically skipping at the idea when he'd explained it. The offer of payment seemed to go unnoticed, well almost, she was a Slytherin after all. He'd been slightly surprised at her eagerness, but she was playing along, so he hadn't asked too many questions.

Right now, she was tearing along top speed, following a complicated and over extended route through the dungeons, leading Potter and his friends on a happy little wild goose chase. All she had to do was keep going and not get caught…she had assured him that she could out run the posse, and Draco hoped that she wasn't just being vain. He turned away from following them and ran down a side corridor, slipped through a secret passage and emerged in the corridor by the potions classroom. He ran on until he reached the designated junction. Crabbe and Goyle were there as planned, waiting for him.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Goyle answered, Crabbe just glared at him, apparently still sore about earlier. His neck was glaring with red welts, but soon that would be the least of his problems.

Draco nodded. "Good, they're on their way," as he said it, he heard the patter of running footsteps, "Remember, I don't care what you do or how you do it, just keep them all here for the next ten minutes…got it?"

They both nodded. Heather skidded into the junction. Draco could hear the others close behind her. They weren't supposed to see him. He glared a warning at the moron twins and then took hold of her collar. "Come on," he ordered her, and led the way back down the corridor. He led the kid back to the same secret passage he had used and pushed it open just as he heard the first of the shouts of annoyance from behind him. Crabbe and Goyle had engaged the enemy. In two minutes there would be total bedlam in that corridor…exactly the way Draco wanted it. He hadn't planned on the whole of Gryffindor house accompanying Potter. Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't be able to hold them for ten minutes, or anything like that, but that didn't matter. All the needed to do was create a big enough furball to get Snape's attention and that they were more than capable of doing.

Draco stopped at the entrance to the passageway and pushed the tapestry aside, "Go on…and well done," he flashed the kid a little grin.

"Ok," she was still a little out of breath from her sprint, "It was fun," she handed Draco Potter's wand, "Here."

Draco took the wand and grinned. 'Potter's wand…oh the fun I could have with this.' Flashes of ransom notes and convoluted pranks drifted before his eyes, stretching his grin momentarily. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Go on," he urged Heather into the passage, he had to get moving. Heather obeyed, but she only got five steps before Draco called her back, there was something he had to know, "Why did you really help me?" he asked her.

Heather shrugged. "Like I said, it was fun. And I wanted to see if I could do it," she grinned wickedly, "Guess I could, huh?"

"You could at that," Draco nodded, "Good enough, now scat!"

She ran off into the shadows. 'Ten galleons well spent!' Draco thought, then he shook his head. 'That kid is going to be real trouble when she grows up.'

Draco turned and tucked Potters wand into his robes. He paused to listen to the battle raging down the corridor…it sounded like a riot was in full swing…great! Draco settled his mind and set off toward Snape's office.

---

Hermione slunk into the shadows just around the corner from Professor Snape's office door. The sound of the fight was near deafening to her. There was no way that Professor Snape would miss it, if he was in his office that is. Draco had timed this to take place just at the end of lunch. He claimed that Snape was a creature of habit, and hence would spend his meal time correcting student assignments. She checked her watch, the it was a full minute since she had heard the first sign of the fight. Draco had said that he'd need at least two to skirt the edge of the conflict zone and meet her here, but she had her assignment to complete first. Swallowing hard, she stepped out of the shadows and walked calmly to Professor Snape's door.

She knocked it and heard Snape moving around inside. Hermione felt herself start to sweat as the Potions Professor opened the door. His cold gaze locked onto her for a moment. "Miss Granger, what…" he stopped, hearing the sounds of the fight, "What is going on?" he scowled.

Hermione tried to look innocent. "I don't know professor, I wanted to talk to you about the assignment that I handed in on Monday…have…have you had the chance to correct it yet?"

Professor Snape glared at her. An extra loud crash floated down the corridor. Professor Snape's head lurched to the side. He seemed to forget that she was even standing there. With a face like thunder, he bowled past her and stormed off down the corridor, muttering icily under his breath. Hermione swallowed hard. Professor Snape looked ready to kill, she wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of his temper at the moment. The door to his office started to swing closed. Quick as a flash she stepped forward and jammed her toe into the doorframe to hold the door open. That was her only job, keep the door from closing behind him. Simple as it had sounded, it was not a good position to be caught in. 'Come on Draco…don't leave me hanging here.'

She looked in panic up and down the corridor, listening hard for approaching footsteps. A hand landed on her shoulder. Hermione jumped and released the door in fright.

"It's only me," Draco hissed in her ear. He moved forward and caught the door before it could close.

'Where the hell did he come from?' she thought.

Draco frowned at her. "You should relax…we aren't out of this yet." He pressed something into her hand. "Here, spoils of war," he grinned. His head darted down the corridor in the direction of Snape's retreat. "Keep your eyes open…warn me if he comes back."

"Wait," Hermione called him back, "What if he comes back and I can't warn you in time?"

Draco's eyes narrowed in concern. "Just hang in there," he said calmly, "Do the best you can, and wish me luck."

There was a flash of a grin and he was gone. Hermione looked down at Harry's wand in her hand. 'What the hell am I going to do with this?' The door closed over silently behind Draco, but remained open just a crack. Hermione pocketed the wand and moved off a ways down the corridor, torn between wanting to stay close to Draco, so she'd know the second he was finished, and watching for the first sign of Professor Snape's return. Already she could hear his voice cutting through the din of the fight. He'd have to restore order, then he would roar and yell…dole out punishments…yell some more…but how long would it take him? Did Draco have enough time?

Hermione froze stiff as the growling in her head started up for no apparent reason. "Well, well," Etean's voice sounded behind her, "What do we have here?"

Hermione spun to face him. Instantly she was even more on edge. Etean was leaning lazily against the wall on the far side of Professor Snape's office, looking at her with an odd twinkle in his eye. Hermione first thought that it was merely the way that the candlelight reflected of them, but the more she looked, the surer she became that his eyes were really glowing slightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked, cursing the definite shake in her voice.

Etean's face split into a slight smile. "My, we are jumpy today, Granger…whatever could the matter be?"

Hermione found her eyes darting to the open door. There wasn't a sound from inside. What would happen if Etean found out? Could they trust him…probably…hell, he'd saved Draco's life for Merlin's sake. But Hermione wasn't sure if Draco trusted him enough for this. He hadn't mentioned telling him…this plan involved Crabbe and Goyle, Hermione and Draco and Draco's little friend…that was it. Draco had warned her to keep it that way. Still he was another pair of eyes to watch for Professor Snape, and he was already here. Could she risk it? The growl in her head wouldn't let her mind settle enough to make a decision. Frustrated, Hermione decided that discretion was the best policy. If he found out on his own, then she'd deal with it, but she wasn't going to tell him.

"Who says anything is the matter?" she tried to sound nonchalant, "I'm just waiting to see Professor Snape."

"Is that a fact? What a co-incidence, so am I." he drawled.

'Fuck…That means he isn't just going to push off…FUCK!'

Etean rolled his eyes. "I take it," he sighed, "that he isn't in?"

"No," Hermione got an idea, "He's down there actually," she pointed off toward the fight over her shoulder, "There's quite a show going on from what I heard."

Etean looked past her, and grinned wickedly. "Is that right?"

He seemed interested. Hermione's hopes rose a notch. "Yeah…old Snape is gone thundering down there like a mad bull to sort it out. He'll be tearing strips of whoever's involved. Should be quite a sight," she forced out a giggle.

"Is that so?" Professor Snape's oily voice froze Hermione's gut solid. He sounded like he was right behind her.

'Oh holy hell no!' Hermione was shaking like a leaf as she turned round. Just as she thought, Snape was glowering at her.

"Miss Granger, you know full well that that is not the correct way to refer to a member of staff," Snape's voice was cold and dry, "I'll thank you not to do it again. Losing five points should help to remind you."

"Sorry Professor." 'Five points? Why not ten? Why not fifty?' Hermione's mind raved in panic, 'Come on, ball me out…tear into me…just don't go into your office!' Professor Snape seemed to be finished with her though. He moved toward his office, Hermione had to fight to stop herself from tackling him. What the hell was she going to do now? Snape grunted at her and moved toward his office again. "Professor?" she called.

"What?" he growled at her as he rounded on his toes to face her again.

"Erm…the essay I was asking about…" she sounded weak and hollow and Hermione knew it.

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed at her. "I have not yet graded it…and I should not have to remind you that you are subject to the same rules as everyone else. You will receive your grade when the rest of the class receives theirs."

Professor Snape turned away and pushed his door open. Hermione nearly screamed. Her mind raced. He was going to catch Draco in the act of raiding his stores. He was going to explode at any second. Had Draco heard him coming? How long could he hide? Hermione was panicking now. What was she going to do?

Professor Snape's foot had crossed the threshold when Etean's voice stopped him. "Professor," he said with a mirthful air, "If you don't mind my asking," he nodded down the corridor, "What exactly was going on? It sounded like a hell of a fracas."

Professor Snape scowled and looked over his shoulder at Hermione. "It seems Mr Potter has lost his wand and," he turned back to Etean, "as he is want to do, he decided to cast the blame on the nearest Slytherin. He and his cohorts accosted Mr Goyle and Mr Crabbe over the matter."

"They did?" Etean paused to shake his head, "Professor, I hope you don't mind my saying so, but it strikes me as seriously odd that Potter hasn't been expelled for some of his antics over the years…"

Hermione's jaw dropped open. She didn't care that Etean was only talking like that to get further into Professor Snape's good books. She didn't care that he sounded like a smarmy, brownnosing git. Snape had moved away from his door to speak to Etean, and he had his back turned! Whether it was by accident or design, Robert Etean had just become the very distraction she needed. Now, where was Draco? She stared at the door…nothing. It just sat there, wide open. No movement, no shadow slinking out. Etean laughed at something Snape had said. Hermione nearly wretched at the sound of him fawning over the Professor like that, the growling in her head grew louder. She felt her skin start to crawl. Snape entered the office…still no Draco. Etean continued his simpering brownnosing as he followed Professor Snape inside his office and shut the door behind him. All was lost! The world started to cave in on Hermione. She stood rooted to the spot, waiting for the inevitable explosion when Draco was spotted. The seconds ticked past. She couldn't imagine how he had evaded Snape's eyes for this long.

She let out a strangled cry as a hand clasped over her mouth. She was powerless to resist as she was spun round and dragged into the shadows. A scent filled her nostrils. Her nose recognised it, but her mind just wouldn't believe it. Draco! It was unmistakable. The musky smell of him mixed with the hint of his aftershave…it had to be him. The scent of Draco lifted her. He had escaped! How? How could he be here? How could he have gotten out around Snape without being seen?

"Pleased to see me?" he whispered in her ears. Hermione could hear the traces of a fading burst of adrenaline in his voice. With her head pressed into him, she could hear and feel his heart pounding.

Her spirit soaring, Hermione locked her arms around him and kissed him as hard as she could. She felt her own heart racing with his. Relief, joy and sheer disbelief flooded through her as they kissed. When they parted, she looked up at his face. "How?" she asked when she could force herself to speak.

Draco smiled down at her. "Trade secrets, my girl…the important thing is that I got what we needed. Now come on before we do get caught."

He caught her hand and dragged her off down the corridor before she could say another word.

---

Etean stood facing Snape's desk. Draco had escaped…just. What would he have done if Etean hadn't been there? What was he thinking? Breaking into Snape's office in the middle of the day was bad enough, but using Granger for a lookout? Shit, Snape had damn near walked into her before she saw him. Etean had sensed Draco's plight from the second Snape had opened the door, and he had had to think fast. He had sensed Potter's anger earlier and had guessed that all the noise was down to him. Pushing Snape's 'Potter button' was the only thing he could do to buy Draco the precious seconds he needed to escape. What the hell was he doing in here? Etean scanned the room, looking for something, a trace of Draco's actions. His eyes settled on a display cabinet. There was a ring of dust beside the leg, a clear signal to anyone that was looking that the thing had been moved. 'Well done Malfoy, you idiot.'

Etean shook his head politely as Snape offered him a cup of tea. 'What is it with the English and tea?' Etean couldn't stand the stuff, but it seemed that everyone in this bloody country over the age of sixteen was an addict. He returned his attention to the dust. Whatever Draco was up to, it was probably for the best that he didn't get caught. As innocently as he could he flicked his finger and muttered a charm. A tiny gust of wind, undetectable unless you happened to be standing in its path, moved from the tip of his index finger and blew the dust away. Satisfied that there was no trace left of Draco's incursion, Etean set him aside and added another point to the debt that Draco owed him. He smiled and continued to blankly feign interest as Snape recanted the myriad of calamities that Harry Potter had gotten himself into. The man seemed to take each one as a personal affront. Yet there was something resigned about Snape's tone. It was almost as though he felt a responsibility to the boy. He almost sounded like a father discussing his wayward offspring. Etean instantly pushed that thought out. It was too weird for words.

Snape cleared his throat. "But come now…I didn't call you here to discuss Potter, did I?"

Etean shook his head. "No, Professor, your note said something about travel arrangements for next Friday?"

Snape paused. "Yes…we will be discussing that, there are preparations to be made. We do have something else to discuss first I'm afraid…a somewhat more important matter."

This wasn't what Etean had been expecting. "Professor?"

"Yes…Professor Dumbledore asked me to have a word with you. He would have preferred to do this himself, but his affairs in London are most pressing at the moment."

"I understand, Professor."

"I believe that you do, and so, it seems, does the Headmaster. Before we begin however, and before we discuss what we are to discuss, I must first secure your promise that, whatever the result of this conversation, it will go no further than this room. Professor Dumbledore has asked that I apologise for having to ask this, but he assures me that your word will bind you, and that you will understand the concerns later."

Dumbledore wanted his word on a blind assurance? What did the old codger have up his sleeve now? "I see," Etean nodded, this was bound to be complicated, but it sounded interesting, "well, confused as I am, if Professor Dumbledore wants my word of secrecy, he has it."

Snape studied Etean carefully for a moment, and then nodded. He reached into his desk drawer and took out a sealed envelope. Etean recognised the Hogwarts seal on the back. "Now then," Snape cleared his throat again, "Have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"