"Come,
Doused in mud,
Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be..."
Come As You Are
-Nirvana
**Bold text below is taken straight from Half-Blood Prince, by JKR.
Harmonia Nectere Passus Chapter 8
Draco could vaguely hear himself sucking up to Slughorn for allowing him to stay at the Christmas Party, but the words spewing forth from his mouth were not being comprehended by his brain. He was seeing red. No, more specifically he was seeing pink—Granger was wearing a dress in a soft rose hue. Despite the fact that she was visibly thinner than she ever had been, she still glowed beautifully and Draco could feel his heart stop for a moment. But the sight of that oaf, McLaggen, sauntering up behind Granger and draping his arm around her waist? That made Draco see white. A white-hot blinding rage was welling up within him, even as his mouth was moving automatically to kiss up to Slughorn.
Draco had promised himself that he would never use Legilimency against Granger, but as she stood sandwiched between McLaggen and Potter—who looked like Christmas had come five days early as he stared in his direction—he knew he needed to act. He cleared his mind and stared her straight in the eye. Much to his surprise, she did not shy away from his gaze. He created a very clear picture of the Astronomy tower in his mind and planted the vision in her brain. He saw her face screw up in confusion for a moment before a scowl graced her features. He thought very clearly the phrase, "I know," and he watched as her face fell and her skin, already paler than ever before, turned ashen.
"I'd like a word with you, Draco," his godfather interrupted the spiel between he and Slughorn.
Slughorn, who had evidently had a little too much to drink, hiccupped and jovially reprimanded Snape. "Oh, now, Severus, it's Christmas, don't be too hard—"
"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be. Follow me, Draco," Snape instructed, leaving little room for discussion.
Draco managed to tear his eyes away from Granger and he saw as she swatted McLaggen's arm away from her. He had no desire to speak with his godfather, he had more pressing matters at the present moment.
o-o-o
Hermione watched Malfoy and Snape leave, her heart beating rapidly, her stomach turning unpleasantly. McLaggen had been invading her space all night, trying to drag her toward the mistletoe. He'd spent the better half of the evening discussing how much of a Quidditch master he was and quite frankly, Hermione was ready to scream. Every time he touched her, the hair on her neck stood at attention and she wanted to hex him. She could hex Ronald Weasley for being such a prat and taking up a rather public relationship with Lavender Brown. He was supposed to be her date. Not this ignoramus.
"I'll be back in a bit, Luna—er—bathroom," Harry said, and Hermione noticed he hadn't taken his eyes from the doorway Malfoy and Snape had disappeared through.
Luna smiled demurely and took up conversation with Professor Trelawney. Hermione excused herself from where McLaggen was one again trying to ensnare her and trotted after Harry. "Harry! Stop!"
Harry, pulling the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket, turned to look at her. "What is it, Hermione? I need to catch up to them!" he eyed the long corridor wistfully.
"Let me go, Harry," she offered.
Harry furrowed his brow. "No way. It's dangerous! They're Death Eaters!"
Hermione crossed her arms in a way that let Harry know he was in for it. "Oh, so you think I couldn't handle myself?" You didn't before.
Harry averted his eyes. "Er—you know I don't think that, Hermione. It's just—"
"It's just nothing. Professor Slughorn will notice your disappearance a lot more readily than mine. Go back in there and I'll follow Malfoy. I'll give you a play-by-play after the party. Give me the Map and the Cloak," she said, holding out her hands.
"Hermione, I—"
"Stop arguing! I need to find them and you need to get back to the party before Professor starts questioning your absence!" she said and she snatched the items from his hands.
She swung the Cloak over her frame and took off at a sprint, Harry still calling after her in a raised whisper. Never mind Harry, she could deal with him later. Hermione raced down the hall, unfolding the Map whilst trying to catch the sound of voices. Finally, she heard the deep rumblings of two male voices coming from behind a closed classroom door. She crouched down and was able to hear through a keyhole.
"I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?" Malfoy spat angrily.
"I hope you are telling the truth because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it."
"Who suspects me?" Malfoy was angry, but Hermione detected something more in his tone—fear, perhaps? "For the last time, I didn't do it, okay? That Bell girl must have had an enemy no one knows about—don't look at me like that! I know what you're doing. I'm not stupid, but it won't work—I can stop you!"
Hermione peered through the keyhole and saw Snape's face, his eyes peering into Malfoy's as he held him by the front of his robes. "Ah…Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"
Hermione's heart stopped. Malfoy's master? That confirmed what she'd known all along. He was, in fact a Death Eater. She had known for some time now, but hearing Snape confirm it, she felt a fresh wave of nausea. "I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!"
The blood was rushing behind her ears, louder than a freight train. She could scarce hear from the noise of it and she missed a section of the conversation. Malfoy had all but confirmed that he was working on behalf of Voldemort. And Snape was…trying to assist him? She pressed her ear harder against the door, willing her heartbeat to quiet some so she could hear. "…I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the unbreakable vow, Draco—"
"Looks like you'll have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it, I've got a plan and it's going to work, it's just taking a bot longer than I thought it would!"
Plan? A plan for what? What had Voldemort tasked him with? "What is your plan?" Snape asked and Hermione raised an eyebrow—he didn't know? Did he know what the task was?
"It's none of your business!" Malfoy was indignant at this point and Hermione could hear the growing agitation in his voice.
"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you—" Snape persisted.
"I've got all of the assistance I need, thanks, I'm not alone!"
Hermione listened as they bickered about Professor Snape giving Crabbe and Goyle detention—apparently they were his lookouts. Snape admonished Malfoy for being alone, wandering at night, for getting caught. Malfoy was nearing a breaking point and Hermione could tell. Still, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor pressed further. "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" Malfoy retorted after the back and forth exchange.
"Draco. There is no glory in this…you are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but—"
Hermione heard Malfoy's footsteps striding quickly toward her. "There is someone on the other side of that door!" Snape spat, and she heard his footsteps surpass Malfoy as he strode toward the door. Hermione straightened up, knowing she was caught and beginning to panic when Snape stopped on the other side of the door. "What have you done, Draco?" the elder man asked.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Professor."
"Miss Granger's mind speaks louder than her insufferable voice," Professor Snape said and she could hear the sneer in his tone.
Malfoy hesitated for a moment and she could practically hear him trying to mentally formulate a lie. "Save it," Snape told him. "You listen to me. I don't know yet what you and Miss Granger are hiding, but I would suggest you teach her Occlumency as well because I will not hesitate to listen into her mind. It is clear that she knows nothing of what you are up to, if her confused and muddled thoughts are any indication. I would suggest you let someone in and Miss Granger would be a powerful ally. I want to see both of you in my office at five o' clock on the Monday when we return from holidays. This includes you, Miss Granger," he finished, raising his voice for her benefit toward the end.
Hermione heard the doorknob being turned and she pulled the Cloak from her head. There was no point in hiding—they both knew she was there. Malfoy came out first, avoiding her gaze as his hands shook beside him. Snape stood in the doorway, his arms crossed with a sneer painted across his face. Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked up at the greasy haired man. "I don't understand, Professor."
"Mister Malfoy is in need of assistance and friendship. I'd suggest speaking with him before you see me after Christmas," he gave a pointed look in Malfoy's direction. "Now, get to bed before I dock points from both Houses. And might I suggest not eavesdropping alone? A foolish mistake, Miss Granger. One I'd expect out of Potter, but not you."
Hermione shivered under his gaze and turned to stalk back toward Slughorn's party. She felt Malfoy's presence behind her when she rounded the corner. She turned to look at him and he shrank under the ferocity in her stance. "You're a Death Eater!"
Malfoy looked around them and put a finger to his lips and a hand on her arm. "Please, keep quiet. Come with me to the Astronomy tower—it's empty tonight. I can…explain."
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she said, jerking her arm away from his touch as though he'd burned her.
His face held onto the stony anger though his shoulders slumped, downtrodden. "I won't hurt you, Hermione. I thought I'd made that clear."
"You are trying to befriend me and for what? To gather information on Harry? To pass along to Voldemort?" she whispered in an elevated tone.
Malfoy wrinkled his brow and his lips turned down in a deep scowl. "I befriended you because you are a bright witch, beautiful and interesting. You are a true equal in will, intellect and determination. That's not something I've readily found in many others," he said, stepping closer to her.
She backed away as he advanced and he let up, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm not going to hurt you. At least allow me to explain why."
Hermione looked at him, the broken look on his face. He hadn't questioned what she'd done to cause her attack—he'd taken to her side tenderly. She didn't feel as though he aimed to harm her and she wanted desperately to believe his sentiments. "Please," he pleaded in a quiet whisper.
"Here, get under this," she said, holding out the Invisibility Cloak.
They both ducked underneath and Malfoy had to crouch down to keep their feet covered. They were silent as they made their way up toward the tower, so close under the Cloak that Hermione could feel his body brush against hers. Once at the stairs leading up to the tower, they removed the Cloak and Malfoy led the way up the dark winding staircase.
Once at the top, the wind was blowing heavily, frigid and painful. Malfoy cast a protective ward around them and the wind calmed, the air slightly warmer. Hermione stood back, her arms crossed and her face threatening as she held her wand tightly. Malfoy placed his wand on a bench near them and raised his hands.
Hermione grit her teeth and watched as Malfoy removed his scarf and transfigured it into a blanket to sit on, a cushioning charm making it more bearable. He sat and picked at the hem of his left sleeve as she watched him. "You're right," he murmured so quietly she wondered if he had spoken at all.
She was still furious and weary of him, her wand still grasped tightly in her hand. But she went to sit next to him, as they had done various times in the greenhouse before she quit going. She drew her knees up to herself and shivered, the air not quite warm enough to soothe the chill she felt between them. Malfoy sighed and unclasped his cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders. "Thanks," she muttered, looking down at the slippery material as it cascaded like water through her fingers.
They were silent for a moment neither knowing what to say just yet. Hermione wanted to yell and scream and carry on, let all of her accusations fly. She wanted so desperately to be angry with him for breaking her trust when he had become the only one she felt secure near. But she sat still, her cheek pressed against her knee, and stared at where he had his arms draped around his drawn knees, his ankles crossed and hands clasped to hug his legs closer.
"You're a Death Eater," she settled on.
He closed his eyes and turned his face down, nodding slowly. "Yes."
"Why?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice even.
He took a deep breath. "The Dark Lord did not take kindly to my father's failures in the Department of Mysteries last year. He essentially threatened me into joining his ranks, though…at the time, I didn't realize the underlying threat."
"So you willingly took the Mark, then?"
He pursed his lips and nodded once more. "I wanted to do my father proud. I had no idea what I was getting into."
"What was Snape trying so hard to help you with?" she asked, recalling the hushed conversation.
Malfoy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly. "I have been given a task to complete. If I should fail, the Dark Lord will force me to kill my mother before he kills me."
Hermione felt her jaw open in disbelief. Malfoy was staring at his hands, avoiding her gaze at all costs. He was clearly ashamed and afraid of the meaning behind his words. "How do you know that?"
"He calls me…usually on Fridays. And I have to go to him. He tortures her in front of me before he turns his wand on me," he said, tugging his sleeve once more. "I have no doubt that he will act on every threat he makes."
"He tortures you?" she asked, incredulous.
That explained his limp, the bloody sleeve, his ill demeanor. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. "If his wand is trained on me, then he can't hurt my mother."
"Why don't you go to Professor Dumbledore? The Order can take you in," she said, feeling a heaviness settle over her heart.
"Granger. I made my choice and now I have to follow through to save my mother's life."
"What have you been tasked with, Draco?" she asked, trying to run through every possible scenario in her mind.
He looked up at her use of his given name and she could see the inner turmoil painted all over his features—from the set of his jaw, the sadness in his eyes and the defeated slump of his shoulders. He shrugged. Hermione poked his thigh. "Professor Snape thinks I can be of assistance. I need to know what I'm assisting you with."
"Snape is a fool," he spat.
"I may not like the man, but he is anything but a fool," she countered. "Let me in. I will help in any way I can."
He shook his head. "I can't. You would hate me if I told you."
"I won't. Tell me and we will come up with a solution, together," she said, knowing she was crossing into dangerously treasonous behaviors.
What would Harry and Ron say if they ever found out she was helping a self-described Death Eater? How could she look anyone in the Order in the eye ever again? She had solid proof that Draco Malfoy was a follower of Voldemort. She should be marching straight to Dumbledore or McGonagall or someone.
But Hermione looked at the boy who'd helped her in her darkest hour. He was shattered and barely managing to hang on by a thread. She couldn't turn him in just yet. Not until she found out what was going on. Malfoy bit the inside of his cheek and turned his head toward the open aired side of the tower, gazing out over the stars. "I have to kill someone."
Shit. Of course his task would be murder. Of whom, though? Harry? Herself? "We can go to Professor Dumbledore, Draco. He'll know what to do! You don't have to kill anyone," she pushed.
Malfoy turned his face from looking out over the sky to her. He shook his head and something in his eye told her everything she needed to know. Hermione put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she shook her head. She stood, dropping his cloak and began backing up, ready to make a mad dash down to Gryffindor tower. Malfoy stood as well, advancing toward her. "Please, Granger. Please. Don't tell Potter…don't tell anyone. I'm trying to figure out what to do."
"Snape was wrong…I can't help you," she said and she turned to leave, retrieving Harry's items.
Malfoy reached out and took her wrist. "Granger, please don't go…" he pleaded once more.
"I can't help you kill someone, Draco," she said.
"I don't expect you to. I don't expect you to help me at all."
"I can't sit idly by and chit chat with you knowing you plan on killing our Headmaster!" she forced.
"I will figure this all out. Obviously I don't have any desire to kill him, or I would have done it by now," he reasoned.
"And Katie Bell?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow as he voice raised an octave.
Malfoy looked guiltily at her. "Look. I'm unraveling and getting sloppy. The Dark Lord…he doesn't take well to waiting. But, I swear…I never meant to hurt her."
"But you did! You're dangerous, Draco!" her tone was accusatory.
That made him recoil and he finally dropped her wrist. "Granger…please don't leave me. I will figure something out…you're the only person I trust…the only person I can even talk to anymore!"
Hermione looked at him, the fallen angel, and she felt a suffocating clenching of her heart. "We need to tell him."
He looked into her eyes, grey meeting brown, and opened his mouth to speak before reclosing it and nodding once. "After our meeting with Snape."
"I don't understand why he feels I'm capable of helping you. I'm best friends with the man who's meant to kill your master!"
"I want him dead, too," he admitted quietly. "I want Potter to defeat him."
She narrowed her eyes at his confession but he was looking back at her earnestly. There were countless thoughts playing through her mind—how dangerous it was to befriend a Death Eater, the guilt at betraying Harry's trust, the worry for the fate of their Headmaster, the despair for the boy of sixteen standing before her. Hermione reached for his left arm and took his hand in hers delicately. His eyebrow rose and his lip twitched when she unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve. They were both holding their breath as he eased his sleeve up, revealing an inky black Dark Mark, not quite raw but not scabbed over. She ran her thumb over it, feeling the half-healed raised outline. He closed his eyes and turned his face down and away so she couldn't see his shame.
"We'll figure this out," she told him. "You stood with me when I needed someone, I'll stand with you…but you're not killing anyone."
She still held his hand, palm up as she ran her thumb over the Mark as though each swipe of her finger would erase a little more of the brand. He was still refusing to look at her and she felt an overwhelming surge of desperation and sadness for his plight. She jerked his arm firmly, pulling him forward a pace and causing him to stumble as she tossed her arms around his neck. He stiffened in her embrace, seemingly unsure of physical affection, before quickly recovering. He buried his face into her shoulder and hair and wrapped his arms around her.
Hermione hadn't allowed another boy to touch her this closely in months, not even Ron or Harry. She could feel his body heat engulfing her, the thin shirt allowing her to feel the angles of his shoulder blades, his ribcage pressed against her chest. The scratch of his facial hair rubbed on her bare shoulder by the strap of her dress. She didn't understand why, but the feel of his arms around her calmed her. A few minutes before, she'd been frightened of his status and hesitant to accept his words. Now, her heart felt for him. She didn't know how she was going to help him, but she would try everything in her power to come up with a solution.
"Hermione," he mumbled into her hair and she could share his reluctance to let her go.
The air was a lot cooler without his arms. He gestured back to the blanket on the stone ground. "We need to sit. I…I found out something about your attack."
Hermione's heart started beating quickly. I know. His voice had broken into her mind. "I didn't know you were a Legilimens," she accused.
He shrugged. "My dear Aunt deemed it necessary to learn. Snape apparently thinks it necessary for you to learn Occlumency as well."
They sat on the blanket, their legs criss-cross, their knees touching. "What did you find out?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted the answer.
Malfoy seemed to fidget and he leaned forward on his legs, clasping his hands over his crossed ankles. "I…shit, Granger…" he seemed to be having difficulty finding the words.
"What? What is it?" she asked, dreading his answer.
"I know who did it," he blurted out, averting his eyes once more.
Hermione took a deep breath and she felt the blood pooling behind her ears once more as her heart pumped it erratically through her veins. "Who?"
"You're sure you want to know?" he asked, frowning as he looked up at her.
Did she want to know? Did she want to have to face her attacker? Take it to Professor McGonagall? Her head was spinning as she gave a faint nod. He retrieved her wand from the blanket beside them and handed it to her. "Just point it at my temple and look in my eyes, since you aren't experienced. It will be clearer if you can see it directly than if I try to place it in your mind. I won't fight your advancements so the memory should come easily."
Her hand was shaking around her wand and she hesitated for a moment. Malfoy sensed her hesitation and lifted her hand to point the wand at his temple. She was staring at where the tip pressed softly into his skin. He put a finger under her chin, which she knew was trembling against his hand, and tilted her face slightly so she looked straight in her eyes. "Say it when you're ready."
The wand quivered in her hand and she reached down to grasp his hand, needing a show of solidarity and companionship. "Legilimens!"
Hermione watched, through Draco's memories, as he read the minds of her classmates; as he pried into Lavender's that day in Potions; as he questioned and manhandled Pansy Parkinson. She watched through his memory of Parkinson's memory as she was dragged into the empty classroom, spotted Cormac McLaggen. "Stop!" Malfoy commanded at once and she saw nothing more but blackness as he put a wall up mentally.
Hermione lowered her wand and his face came back into view. She was crying uncontrollably. "You don't need to see more," he said, wiping at her face.
"I don't understand. I've never done anything to either of them!"
He took a deep breath across from her. "I don't know. But I'm going to figure it out. I've effectively ruined Parkinson's life—now no Pureblooded man will come within a foot of her; no one wants a mute for a wife. Now, I just have to devise a way to destroy Brown and McLaggen."
Hermione was sobbing and leaning forward, and Malfoy ran a hand over her hair. "I thought I'd feel clean, finally. But I still feel dirty," she whispered through hiccups.
All he could do was whisper over and over again, "I'm sorry," and "I will make this right." His heart broke for her as she wept, and he knew then that he would do everything in his power to get retribution for her attack.
o-o-o
