A/N: I just realized that I haven't mentioned Crookshanks at all. Let's just write it off as Hermione being too busy with other things to pay copious amounts of attention to her cat. It would be silly to put him in now…

I am sorry that it takes so long to update, but there are reasons. 1: I have less free time since I started working. 2: These chapters are so long that they take a while to write even when I do get around to it. 3: More reviews are a wonderful incentive to write more words more quickly. Reviews are kind of slow lately. Therefore, if you want me to update faster, then review!

This chapter is the last slow-moving, transitional chapter before some important bits of plot are added. Next chapter: Another note from Lucius, a centaur encounter. Doesn't that make you want to review this one?


The Negative Side


Hermione's Big Secret

Harry and Draco both knew that Hermione had secrets. There were things she hid, covered up by simple, well-thought-out lies. It was the topic they each avoided equally every time they talked. Neither of them wanted to speculate too closely.

Harry had another reason for avoiding the subject. He would have hated to find out that Draco knew a secret of Hermione's of which he was unaware. He thought it unlikely, but with Hermione it was not wise to rule out any possibility.

"What do you think Hermione does out in the forest?" Draco asked suddenly.

Harry amended to himself, We do talk about her sometimes. He shrugged. "I don't know. I doubt that sitting here guessing will help us figure it out at all, though."

"All right. If you don't want to go into that, neither do I."

"Yes you do."

Draco sighed. "I want to know what she is doing, but I don't like fumbling in the dark."

Whenever they had a minute or so of conversation followed by silence, Harry started to fidget. He always felt that something had been left unsaid. It was true; there was much more to say. None of it related to an easily broached topic. Instead, they sat without speaking. On most occasions, one of them left, or brought up something like Quidditch. Both of them enjoyed long, in depth conversations about some small point of the sport. Tactics, since they were both Seekers, came up quite often.

This time, Harry did not want to talk about Quidditch. He had been doing some thinking ever since he found himself in one of the history books. Deciding to take the plunge, he asked, "What do you know about Godric's Hollow?"

Draco looked at him in surprise. "Not much," he said. He cleared his throat. "It's a hidden location, Unplottable, and completely surrounded by Muggle territory. Named for the founder, I think. That's about it."

"Do you know how to get there?"

The pause that followed the question was too long. "No, of course not."

"If you're my friend, tell me."

"We're friends now, eh? Admitting it, finally? Never thought you would."

"I don't have time for this, Malfoy."

"Of course you do. You're a student at Hogwarts, you have time for almost everything. Listen to me, Harry. I. Do. Not. Know. Anything. About. It."

"What have you been keeping from me about the night Voldemort killed my parents?" Harry hissed.

"Nothing! My father never talks about it, neither do any of the other Eaters when they visit him. It's not an experience they enjoyed, losing their leader. Lucius would never talk about his defeats in front of me."

"You have to know something. Tell me how I can find Godric's Hollow." Harry knew that he was being stubborn and demanding, but he did not care. The thought that Draco knew anything regarding his parents that he didn't was unbearable.

Draco leaned across the table, his eyes hard and unyielding. "I will not help you get into trouble. Especially the fatal kind."

Surprised by this unexpected admission of emotions, Harry began to laugh. He laughed heartily and very nearly mirthlessly. When he had enough breath to speak, he said, "I'm sorry. For a moment it sounded like you actually cared what happened to me. You know, a year ago you would have done anything possibly to get me into trouble."

Draco just shook his head. He went back to his research. Angrily, Harry grabbed the front cover and slammed the book closed. "Do not ignore me." The sentence spilled out, hardly registering in his mind, as he read the title. The Rise of The Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry stood motionless, having no idea what to do next.

"Do you know why we do this, Harry?" asked Draco.

"Do what?" His voice was hoarse and strained. He felt pricked behind his eyes.

"Fight like that. Do you know why? It's because we're used to taking out our unexpressed emotions on each other."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He was not in the mood for this. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"I'll get to the point quickly. It happens to be this; no matter what we go through, we will always fight. It's what connects this part of our lives to the part when we hated each other beyond words or reason. But even when we're fighting, we'll still be friends. I am your friend. You are my friend. Accept the fact."

"You are making far too much sense," said Harry, shaking his head.

"I do that sometimes." Draco was wearing a knowing grin. "Do you want to finish this assignment now, or tomorrow?"

"Let's just get it done." They took their seats, once again finding the appropriate pages of their texts. "Tell me again why we aren't doing this with Hermione and Blaise?"

"Because Blaise and Ginny have locked themselves in the Room of Requirement for the night," Draco replied without looking up.

"Oh, right."


"What do you want to do?" Blaise asked. Ginny just shrugged. She was not in the mood for any of their usual activities. She tried to think of what that left, but only drew a blank. Blaise guided her to sit next to him on the cloudlike overstuffed sofa. "Is something wrong, Ginny?"

The plan had not been to bare her emotions, but they came pouring out against her orders the moment the last syllable left Blaise's mouth. "Ron is being such a prick, I could hex his broomstick into a million pieces and not feel bad about it." Scathing, Ginny thought rather proudly.

"He's still angry that you're 'associating with Slytherins'?"

"Not angry, Blaise. He's gone far past angry by this point. He won't even speak to me. I asked him today if he wanted to include anything in the letter I was writing to mum, and he just turned and walked away. Can you believe it? My own brother won't speak to me! It doesn't make any sense."

"I guess he's feeling betrayed," said Blaise.

"I know that. The problem is that I didn't betray anyone. Ron's too stubborn to realize that he's fighting his own side. He did the same thing in fourth year, his that is, when Harry got into the Triwizard Tournament. He thought he entered himself and that he was just refusing to tell Ron how he did it. He didn't talk to him at all until after the first task. And Hermione decided to keep Harry company because the rest of the school was angry with him- you should have seen him! Oh, he sulked for months about that, even after Harry and Ron had made up. It was quite funny, but I still felt bad for him."

"Why bother with that? He's a git and deserves no sympathy."

Ginny glared at Blaise. "I appreciate that you are agreeing with me, but if you insult anyone in my family again, your lips will not touch mine for a month."

"But then who will you make out with?" Blaise asked, a devilish smile creeping onto his face. Ginny found it incredibly attractive. A familiar stirring in the pit of her stomach occurred when she thought about it, but she refused to let on. She shrugged, for the second time in five minutes.

"I'm sure I'd find someone," she said nonchalantly. "I can be both convincing and seductive, as you know."

Blaise looked slightly worried at that. Ginny was happy to know that he wanted to be exclusive. Or perhaps he just wanted her to. Knowing Blaise, he would flirt with any girl in sight with the proper figure, but he would not take it beyond that. She almost smiled, but she was too distracted and upset to give in to the thoughts of her boyfriend.

"But that isn't the point," Ginny went on. "The point is I don't know why Ron is doing this. He's never turned his back on me before. He feels almost guilty for what happened to me during my first year."

"You mean when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and you were taken down there? Whatguilt would he have for that?"

Ginny remembered just then that she had not told Blaise all the details of that story. Confusion took her. She was sure that Draco knew the full story, though he had not been involved directly. She had felt safe assuming that Slytherins of the most influential and feared families would all know. This included Blaise. "You don't already know?"

"About Riddle's diary, you mean? Of course I do. You wrote in it, he possessed you, you opened the Chamber of Secrets, et cetera. What about it?"

Ginny looked at him in shock. "You confuse me no matter what you do, Blaise," she told him. "Itsounded like you didn't know."

"Forgive me. I did not mean to give you the impression that I was ignorant. Continue, though. Your brother feels guilty?"

Should I? Oh, what the hell. Blaise won't tell anyone. "You know that Lucius slipped me the diary when he and my dad were having a fistfight? Well, Ron noticed afterward that there was another book, one that he was sure had not been there before. He didn't say anything because…"

"Because he didn't expect it to be an evil diary?" Blaise supplied. Ginny nodded. "That's pretty harsh. He's right to feel guilty. This information changes everything. It was all his fault."

Ginny hit him in his chest. "He told me two summers ago, no one else knows about it, and no one else ever will. You understand me? It's bad enough that he's angry with me for being civil to you and Draco. If he ever found out that I told his biggest secret, he'd kill me."

Blaise chuckled. "What do you think he'll try when he finds out about us?"

"He probably already knows," Ginny said. "Everyone else does."

"Yes, but he's a Gryffindor. A member of the slowest house…"

"Hey, I'm a Gryffindor too," Ginny protested. "You are slowly losing your rights to go beyond first base."

"But you're the Slytherinest of Gryffindors I've ever seen. It's madly fetching," Blaise told her, his lips moving to her neck. Ginny was suddenly aware that Blaise was nearly on top of her.

"You've been using my distracted state as an opportunity to move in for the metaphorical kill, Blaise." He paused, looked into her eyes, and grinned. Ginny laughed slightly. "I expected no less."

"Of course." His mouth met hers, their lips molding to each other softly as they began to lose themselves in each other.

"And Slytherinest isn't a word," Ginny scolded as soon as her speaking apparatus was disengaged.


November was passing quickly, Hermione was pleased to notice. It was one of the least enjoyable months to exist, in her opinion. The winter chill began to set in, but there was very little snow to make it worthwhile. It always seemed to drag just a little longer than it had to. Anticipation for December and Christmas built to an unbearable tension, and Hermione became more irritable. This year, however, none of this happened. It had been uncharacteristically warm for the better part of the month, and looking up at the ceiling that morning, she predicted snow.

"What do you think this is?" Harry asked, bringing Hermione out of her musings. She looked around at her friends.

"What?"

"This letter. Who do you think it's from?" Harry held up the small package Hedwig had just delivered.

Hermione shrugged. "How would I know?"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "You seem a little distracted," he said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just open the thing so you can stop wondering."

Ron was glaring between them and the Slytherins from the end of the Gryffindor table. Hermione rolled her eyes, but then followed half of his glare. She found herself staring at the Slytherin table, lost in an unwanted train of thought involving Draco's hands and lips.

Hermione was shaken from her reverie by a crumpling noise, the suspicious sound of parchment shoved hastily into a pocket. When she looked at Harry, he was digging into his breakfast with unmatched enthusiasm.

"Did you read the note?" she asked him.

He barely looked up. He nodded briefly. He tried to reply, but all that came out was a muffled, "Mmff thshhphh bllnngg mmshhr."

Hermione shook her head. "Fine, if you don't want to answer me," she said. Obviously Harry had something he wanted to hide. If there was one thing for which Harry had absolutely no talent, that was being devious. Normally Hermione found it to be endearing. At that moment, she found it disgusting.

"Hermione," Ginny said, somewhere to her left, "Will you help me with my Arithmancy assignment when you have some time?"

"We can do it right after breakfast if you want," Hermione answered. "It shouldn't take too long. How many problems?"

"Just two. Well, the assignment was for ten problems, but I figured out most of them. It's just these particular ones that I keep getting stuck on. I figure I could ask Blaise, but then I would never actually get it done."

Hermione looked askance at her younger friend. "I do not want you to ever tell me exactly what that means."

Ginny laughed. "All right, I'll try. Listen, I'm finished here. Do you want to go to the library or the common room to work?"

"The library," replied Hermione automatically. They gathered their belongings, said goodbye to Harry, and started down the winding castle corridors to the library. No sooner were they clear of the Great Hall than Ginny confronted Hermione.

"I saw what you were staring at. I believe it has a name. It begins with a 'D' and ends with a '-raco Malfoy'." Hermione whipped her head to the side to see Ginny, peering intently at her. "Fess up."

"No." She flatly refused to tell Ginny her secret. "Forget it, because I'm not telling you."

By that time, they had reached the library. Hermione set her schoolbag down rather more heavily than she had intended. "Let me see the problems, Gin," she ordered. Ginnydug outher book and opened to the page where her scrap parchment was stuck into the text. Hermione sat and started to look over the problems. "These aren't really that hard, there's just a trick to them that you have to get first. And this one, number four, you did this part wrong. The answer's right, though, and I'm not sure how that could have happened. Come here and I'll show you how to do it."

"Hermione…"

"Does it have to do with Arithmancy?"

"Yes." Hermione looked up. "Well, no, it doesn't. It's important, though. It…"

"What is it? If you're going to tell me, please do so before I die of suspense. If not, let me help you with your homework." Ginny did not say anything, so Hermione turned back to the Arithmancy book. She had just opened her mouth when Ginny spoke.

"I saw you talking to Draco in the library," she said quickly.

Hermione paused, her quill poised over the paper. That was certainly not what she had expected Ginny to say. She chanced a look at her friend, and found that she was nervous. Ginny had a habit of biting her lip just after a difficult confession. "What are you talking about?" Hermione prompted, though she was sure she already knew.

"It was in October, some time before the Halloween Ball. I was looking for books, but I came across you two. You were talking about…something. I don't know what, it was rather confusing. It seemed like something was going on with the two of you."

Hermione placed her quill neatly beside the parchment and turned to face Ginny directly. "Do you want help with this homework or not?"

Ginny's eyebrows knit together in an apologetic expression. "Maybe we should do it later. Tomorrow, or something." She began to gather her things. "Or I could just do it myself. I'll get help from the professor during class.And I'm sorry for eavesdropping. I wasn't trying to."

"Ginny, I- never mind," Hermione finished, since Ginny was already disappearing from sight. Hermione pressed her fingers to her temples. "I wonder how many friends I can alienate in one day."

"Want to make an experiment of it?" a familiar voice asked from nearby. Hermione looked up to see Draco, and was completely unsurprised. He shrugged. "Or not. Just a suggestion."

"Did you want something?"

"So, she heard that, did she?"

Hermione was suddenly nervous. "How much did you hear of what we said?" Draco was the last person she wanted to know that she was staring at him. It would have terrible consequences if he found out.

"Just the last minute. From when Ginny said she saw us." He sat on the edge of the table. It was irritating that he could do something so ordinary and make it look so incredibly appealing. "I told you I heard something."

"Well, congratulations, Malfoy. You win the freakish sense ofaudition prize," she snapped, slinging her bag over her shoulder and preparing to leave in a huff.

"Aren't you working on your Defense assignment with Blaise in, oh, five minutes?" He asked before she could go more than a few steps.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione slowly, very calmly, returned to her previous seat. "I loathe you," she hissed.

She jumped a moment later, noticing that his face was so close to hers. His mouth was just beside her neck, and she desperately wanted it to move in and make contact. She turned away slightly, and Draco's lips moved close to her ear. "No you don't," he murmured.

Hermione turned to look at him. His eyes were inches from hers. It would take no effort to reach out and touch him. It actually took an enormous strength of will not to. He continued. "You don't loathe me. You want me."

"I think I would know if that were the case," she whispered, forcing annoyance into her voice.

He stood. "When you're ready to admit it to yourself, let me know. I want you around. I feel better when you're around."

"Well, thank you."

"I don't think you understand." She waited for him to explain. "I meant that I feel like I am better. And I think it is so. For what would be brought out in me but the best part, because of you?"

Within seconds, he was gone. She did not even realize when he left, and she felt a strange sense of disappointment when she noticed. She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind, to push them down, but Draco continued to interrupt her thinking. She couldnot stand it.

Later than he should have, Blaise arrived. "What did you say to Ginny?" he asked. "I ran into her on the way, and she looked upset."

"I was trying to keep my own secrets, which are no business of yours, Blaise. I have as much right to them as anyone else. Now can we please do the assignment?"

A few minutes passed in near silence. Then Blaise spoke those fatal words. "I saw you staring at Draco at breakfast."

"Oh my gods. Is it Drive Hermione Crazy Day? Someone please tell me, because it seems like it. Why were you even looking at me?"

"That isn't the point. I was just wondering why."

"How could you even be sure I was staring at him? How do you know I wasn't staring in that general direction, and he just happened to be in my line of sight?" She felt proud of herself for bringing up that point.

"I think your initial reaction makes it a little late for that line of reasoning," Blaise said matter-of-factly. "Come on, just tell me why. You can barely stand Draco."

Hermione looked at the ceiling hopelessly. She thought of how she and Draco used to stand, with their mouths pressed together, very nearly lost in each other, his hands wandering over her back…

"Are you serious?" Blaise blurted out, a bit louder than the library warranted. "You and he were a couple?"

"What!" Hermione's head snapped back to its normal position. Then she realized, "Oh. Was I just speaking out loud?"

"You definitely were. When was this?"

"Only for a few months," Hermione told him resignedly. She had already told him the most important bit. She might as well fill in the rest. "He ended it during the summer. It was after that, when I began my self-improvement project."

"Wait. You mean that Draco was the reason behind this?" When he said 'this' he gestured to encompass her from head to toe, referring to her more stylish look. "He was your bad relationship?"

"He wasn't the reason. He was just the catalyst. All the other things I told you were true. I was tired of just being plain old bookworm Granger. Draco was the event that set it off."

"If only he could hear you calling him an event," Blaise said wistfully. "He would die of pride. Wouldn't that be a sight. Oh, he'd come back a moment later, of course."

"Blaise," Hermione's tone had taken on a razor-sharp edge. "If you tell anyone about this, even Ginny, you will find yourself severely maimed by means of the flesh-eating plant Vorari Carnis."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. "I don't think you would."

With measured movements, she took his robe in a fist and pulled him a little closer. "Not one word." She released him afterward, and resumed work on their assignment. She was thoroughly annoyed to hear Blaise stifling laughter through most of their time in the library.

"I think I'll go, and leave you to your hysterics," she said angrily. She exited as quickly as she possibly could.

What was it that had changed? She suddenly found herself thinking of Draco at the most inconvenient times. Most of these thoughts were less than appropriate, often causing her to blush. Because of this, Blaise now knew everything she wanted so badly to forget. Yet she did not feel as terrible about this as she should have. She felt relieved that someone else knew. But why?

It was because of what Draco had said to her that day. He wanted her to trust him again. That was what she had said. To trust him. He had not said that he wanted her to kiss him, but to trust him. You wanted friends to trust you, not pieces of ass. Some time ago, she would have written it off as some devious Slytherin plan. She could no longer do that. She knew Draco too well.

She could still convince herself to be suspicious of him, but she wondered.

Was it possible that he actually cared about her?

…TBC…

Good news! I found some leftover confetti from the days of NLE. If you want confetti, you must review. This time it's the last of the Jack Sparrow shaped confetti that appeared in the last chapter of Pirutes, which means you must review quickly! In short supply. Get it while you can.