A/N: Thanks for all who are following so far, pretty much from here on we'll be seeing a lot more of our favourite Slytherin.

Hope you enjoy!

Having skipped dinner the night before, Hermione was awoken in the early hours of the following morning to a dull, cramp-like pain in her stomach and an intense craving for something sweet. Despite just waking from sleep, her body craved fuel and sugar was the quickest way to do that.

She quietly opened the drawer of her bedside table and slowly pulled out a bar of chocolate she had left over from her trip to Hogsmeade with Neville, taking care not to rustle the wrapper. One small square seemed to satisfy her craving and she was grateful she had had the self restraint to not wolf it down in one go when she first bought it, silently thanking her past self for leaving some for her moment of need.

Stomach now satisfied for the moment, she glanced around to see if anyone had heard her but the girls deep breathing across the room told her she was safe.

She grabbed her wand, the map and invisibility potion from the box under her bed, though in the dark she had initially grabbed the Felix Felicis instead so had to delicately tuck that back in first. She slipped all three into the deep pockets of her cardigan, shrugging it on as she tip toed out of the room in the near-dark of the early morning light.

The common room had a stillness to it at that time of the morning that almost hummed with the air of waiting to be disturbed. The quiet was not, however, peaceful. It was a foreboding sort of calmness that came with a promise that it wouldn't last long. Saturdays were always the busiest days in the tower, nobody had classes so it would be noisy with the chatting of her housemates from sun up to sun down. Except, Hermione remembered, later that night when they would be treated to the first quidditch game of the season. Ravenclaw and Slytherin's names had been drawn for the first playoff and she had not been the only one to notice the loud sigh of relief Ron made when it had been announced. Likely because the draw meant two very good things for him: that their first match would be against Hufflepuff and they would have an extra week to practice before he would don his keeper kit for the first time.

Every single student would be down at the pitch later that night. Dumbledore had announced due to the game falling on the same Saturday as the autumnal equinox there would be a celebratory feast and bonfire held on the field after the match ended.

The excited glint she had seen in Harry's eyes at the announcement gave her a strong suspicion that he may finally be planning to make his move with Ginny that night.

Hermione looked up as she heard someone shuffling down the stairs. Ginny did a double take as she spotted Hermione on the sofa.

'Why are you-' Ginny started to ask but was interrupted by her own yawn mid way through, she stretched her arms above her head. 'Why you up so early?' She finally managed to finish asking

'I couldn't sleep, didn't feel very well last night so I skipped dinner and woke up starving,'

Ginny sat down and re-tied her dressing gown so it was bound closely around her waist, she tucked her feet under to sit on them and looked very much as though she was ready to go back to sleep any minute.

'Wait a minute, how come you're awake so early?' Hermione accused her jokingly, Ginny scowled.

'Ugh- It's Harry, he's got us booked on the pitch again all morning since we won't have it this afternoon while they get ready for the match tonight. Personally, I don't think-' another yawn escaped her as she fought a losing battle against her body's desire to curl back into itself against the sofa arm, '-don't think McGonagall was very keen on the idea of us all being out there at the crack of dawn, not like any of us were happy about it either, but Harry talked her round..' Ginny made a small waving motion with her hands, 'Yay.'

'But your first match isn't for another week yet, why is Harry so keen to fit so much training in?'

'Rhymes with bonbon.' Ginny said, shifting her gaze over to the staircase to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. 'If he didn't have enough confidence in Ron as a keeper he shouldn't have let him make the team.' Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione's frown, 'I'm allowed to say that, he's my brother.'

'For what it's worth I don't think it's Harry who's lacking confidence,'

'Actually no you're right, Ron's just not been himself at all since we came back, Quidditch is just adding to his stress I think.'

'What do you think's going on with him?'

'No idea, but I've heard a few whispers it's to do with a girl, whether there's any merit to that I don't know - between you and me I thought he'd have graduated before Ron would be mature enough to understand the concept of a girlfriend..' Hermione looked down at her hands and hoped her expression didn't give away her thoughts on that particular matter.

'I can't think of anyone he might look at like that, can you?' she asked tentatively.

Ginny scoffed. 'Not a clue. For a while, I think me, Fred and George were expecting him to tell us he had a crush on you, since you were the first girl that ever paid him any attention.' Hermione could feel a subtle heat working its way up to her cheeks.

'What, you thought he might like me as in, like me like me?'

'Last year? Definitely! I mean look how he acted when you were with Krum, if that's not blatant jealousy I don't know what is,'

Hermione remembered how childish Ron had acted about the whole thing. She'd had half a mind to demand he tell her what his problem had been and half hoping she already knew what the answer was. But when they had managed to get back their usual routine it was as if nothing at all had happened, everything just briskly swept under the rug so they could carry on as normal.

'Hmm,' Hermione agreed, 'But he never brought it up again afterwards, none of it,' she broached the topic carefully not wanting to sound like she was fishing for a response, 'I think if you were right he would have took that as a push to actually tell me, wouldn't you?'

'Well exactly, and he didn't say anything about the two of you again afterwards did he?'

'No' she admitted.

'And he hasn't said anything to you since we got back this year either, has he?'

Hermione shook her head and shrugged.

Ginny stretched her legs out in front of her and yawned a final time, 'Shame, would have been really cool to have you as a sister,' she giggled conspiratorially, 'I do have another five brothers you know, if you fancy giving any of them a try,'

Hermione's jaw must have dropped in shock because Ginny's giggling turned into full blown laughter. 'Joking!' she said, although Hermione thought there was probably an edge of the sincerity to her suggestion.

'I wonder,' Hermione began, trailing off from her thoughts without really meaning to say them aloud until the words were already out of her mouth, '-I did catch him giving Seamus and Lavender a funny look at try outs last week. They were sat together, are they seeing each other now?'

'Nothing official I don't think, but they are definitely spending more time together lately aren't they?'

The two both simultaneously raised their brows in mock consideration. 'I'll see if I can get anything more out of him,' Ginny offered, 'Although he's probably more likely to talk to Harry than us about that sort of thing isn't he? Maybe I'll just ask Harry to find out for me,'

'I don't think Harry would tell us anything even if he knew,' admitted Hermione.

'If I ask nicely he might,' Ginny smirked a little, looking at Hermione from under her lashes.

The sound of shuffling from up above told them the boys were awake, Ginny made her excuses and left to go and get ready for training. It was definitely only a matter of time now, Hermione thought to herself, half hoping Harry was planning on something at the bonfire that night. Hermione felt like she was watching a cauldron bubble when she was around the two of them lately, sooner or later it would boil over and everything would all come out regardless.

Alone again, she pulled out the map, her eyes far faster than her consciousness was, already searching out the little dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy' before her brain registered what she was meant to be looking for. She found him and with relief saw he was still in the boys dormitories in the dungeons. She had, however, still been sensible to get up so early because though his dot was there it was already moving around between what she guessed was his room and either the bathroom or common room as it flitted back and forth across the worn parchment.

It was still obscenely early for the weekend and she couldn't see any other students moving around the castle just yet.

She didn't have to wait too long before she saw him leave and the speed at which his dot began moving through the floors of the castle told her he was without a doubt trying not to be seen, either that or he was going for an early indoor run.

There was still only her, alone in the common room, the Gryffindor quidditch team probably still getting themselves dressed before they headed for breakfast, so she didn't have to be discreet as she headed to the portrait door and took the small phial out of her pocket. She watched Malfoy's dot make its way up each floor in turn. Only when he was ascending the spiral staircase between the sixth and seventh floor did she carefully pop the stopper out of the phial and hold it close to her lips, waiting and ready.

Come on, she thought. When his dot was almost level on the map with hers she quickly opened the door and jumped through, knocking the potion back as she did so. She watched as her hand that had pulled the door open vanished before her eyes and when she looked down at her feet they were unseen as she made her way out into the castle's landing.

Five minutes, no more, was all the time she had. She quickly tucked the map back away into the pockets of her cardigan, since the potion wouldn't work on it and she hardly wanted to announce her presence by waving a floating map in front of Malfoy's face.

Her feet carried her to the seventh floor corridor and she was almost at the tapestry when she saw him emerge from the other end of the corridor.

Hermione pressed herself as close as she could to the wall where she knew the door would appear and did her best to breathe as little as possible. Invisible she might be, but Malfoy wasn't deaf and she could still be heard.

In the bright cool light of the morning sun filtering through the windows, she got a good look at him as he walked dead straight towards her. As usual he was dressed in black from head to toe, his roll-neck dark sweater was turned up very slightly at the sleeves but not, she noticed, far enough to reveal much of his forearms.

He walked with a determined stride, his eyes flitting ever so slightly left to right and more than once as he made his way down the corridor he turned to look fleetingly over his shoulder. By the time he stood before her he was close enough for her to note again how much he had changed since she saw him before summer.

His face was a cool mask that didn't give her the faintest idea what he was thinking, but his eyes told another story.

Amidst the sea of otherwise inscrutable, hardened features, they were set apart as the only portion of him that betrayed the faintest hint that there was any emotion beneath his otherwise stony façade. His eyes were the greyest blue she had ever seen and as he glanced at the seemingly empty wall ahead of him, there was a very brief, fleeting moment when they looked right into hers.

Had she ever looked into his eyes like this before, she thought.

No. she didn't recall a time she had ever had the chance to. He soon closed them and seemed to be steeling himself, braced for something. Hermione recognised the intensity as his fist curled in tightly and knew he was focusing completely on what he wanted from the room, was trying to relay his sincere and utter need of the magic of the room of requirement to present itself to him.

It was only a fleeting moment but it opened in her an odd sort of curiosity. This was the first time she was actually doing what she had been asked to: watching him, spying on him. It felt alien to her, as though she was reading someone's diary. Malfoy thought he was completely alone, what she was seeing him do, how she was seeing him act, was only ever how he meant to be seen in private. It gave her an odd sort of delinquent thrill she hadn't at all expected to feel.

She knew that the look she saw in his eyes when they opened again was a look that would haunt her thoughts afterwards. It was one she had never seen in those grey eyes before and it took her a moment to register what exactly it was. If she had to put a word on it: fear.

The door began to appear behind her and she felt the grooves of the old oak materialise as she remained pressed close to the wall, though as a last minute thought she shifted slightly to her right. It wouldn't be very good if Malfoy pushed her back any further into the door to open it.

As he stepped inside Hermione moved as close to him as she could, slipping in just beside him and quickly moving to put distance between them again as he stopped. He looked back out the door then to his right, where she was tip toeing away as quick as she dared. He wore a look of confusion for a second that worried her, had he felt her brush past him? Impossible, she had made sure not to touch him at all.

Maybe it was her scent, she thought with dread, remembering the vanilla she had poured into her bath the night before. She had to stop a sigh of relief escaping her lips as he seemed to brush off whatever fleeting suspicion he'd had and close the door behind him.

She stopped edging back from him when she felt the first touch of something brush against her hands that had been stretched out, feeling behind her for the closest surface. It wasn't a wall she had stepped back to but a large looming bookcase and she turned to see the covers of what looked to be hundreds of books, rising above her as far as her eyes could see.

Their spines and covers were adorned with varying degrees of dust. Some looked as though they had been place back on their shelves years ago, long abandoned, whereas a few weren't even closed fully but laid down half open, their would-be readers seemingly having left them only a few moments ago.

Turning back, she saw Draco walk forwards into what looked like Hogwarts' version of a garbage sale.

From floor to ceiling, the room of requirement was now filled to the brim with the largest collection of mundane, random objects she had ever seen gathered in any one place before.

From more piles of books, cages, boxes and crates, old broomsticks to towering cabinets and more high-rising bookcases there was no surface of the walls or ceiling to the room she could feasibly make out.

A large bust of a goblin blocked her view of Draco as he walked further into the jumble of mismatched objects. She watched carefully at her feet, waiting for her toes to appear again. She needed to follow him as closely as she could without being heard, or seen when the potion's effect wore off.

He walked with purpose and she gathered from his loud, clicking steps that he knew very well where he was headed to.

They passed a large, black piano that had been overturned to rest upside down on the floor, a confused string of yellow wool trailed like streamers between the pedals where practiced feet would have at one point rested to perform.

Just as she had started to seriously think the room would never end, Draco took a sharp turn right, up ahead of her, behind an tall, ornately decorated cabinet with a wine coloured cloth hanging over it haphazardly. She almost walked headlong into him as she rounded the same corner. He had stopped, and was now staring straight ahead of him at what she now realised was the front side of the same cabinet.

Hermione waited a moment to make sure he had reached his destination. When she watched him run a hand through his pale blonde hair and draw his wand out she was fairly sure they had arrived at what he was looking for.

There were possibly only mere moments left before the potion wore off completely so she backed quickly away a little further out of sight of the cabinet but not so far that she could no longer see the top of it peaking out above the piles of junk around it.

She looked down as she walked to see the faintest shimmers of her shoes and trousers appearing again and counted her blessings she hadn't pushed it any further before putting some distance between the two of them.

Now came arguably the harder part.

Hermione took her wand out of her deep pocket and crouched down low, kneeling down as close to the floor as she could. She let her wand lay almost on the floor, only her fingers gripping the handle stopped it from resting on the stone completely.

Within the time of a single beat of it, she blinked and felt the familiar tug of her Animagus come from her heart until it became her whole being. Her wand dropped to the floor, but with it being so close already, made hardly a sound. Certainly nothing she was worried he would here.

Securing it behind her front teeth, she picked it up in her mouth and carried it with her to find somewhere safe to hide it, settling on propping it up inside a single old, brown boot that sat underneath a table on which rested a very weather worn Hufflepuff scarf. It would do, it just needed to be memorable for her to find it again. Then she scuttled back the way she had came until Malfoy's polished black shoes came into her line of sight. She looked up to see his hands running the length of the cabinet doors. They moved over the carved wood, tracing the lines of the grooves whilst his wand tip glowed.

She grew close, at least as close as she dared, then found a chest with a tattered looking pair of curtains poking out from it. Its lid was propped open by the folds of the fabric, enough for her to scurry inside unseen. With the direction it faced, she had a prime position to watch what Draco had come in here to do and she hoped the shadows inside the chest would thoroughly cover her position should he look her direction.

As the morning wore on and she continued to watch him, Hermione started to think she had been overly cautious. His undivided attention was on what was before him, nothing else.

She heard him mutter incantations without fully hearing the words as he spoke them so softly and quietly. It was a side of his voice she did not think could exist, knowing the cruel words it was usually capable of, the way Draco cast his spells over the cabinet it almost sounded like he wanted the spells to work their magic gently, as though he were afraid of damaging it. His wand hand moved now and again, the glow sometimes becoming more pronounced, other times fading completely to a dull light.

More than once she felt she was intruding on a private moment between him and the inanimate cabinet.

She had no idea how much time had passed, the room was closed off from the rest of the castle with it's walls of privacy, the day could be weaning its way into afternoon or even early evening. All she knew is Malfoy's focus remained as steadfast as ever, she didn't think any one person could concentrate on something for as long as she had watched him do. She wasn't remotely sure what he was even doing but she tried to imprint the image of the cabinet in her mind, she would need to relay all of this to McGonagall later to see if the elder witch would be able to make sense of what Draco was attempting to do in here.

He only moved away from the cabinet a handful of times, and when he did it was to consult one of a handful of books that rested on a footstool nearby. She couldn't make out any of the titles, certainly from the covers she couldn't tell what books they might be.

Now and again, Malfoy would move a few steps back to stand as stoic as a statue before his work, she couldn't see his face as her hiding place was off to the left behind him. but she had the distinct impression his eyes were closed when he stood in that position.

Maybe he was sleeping, she had mused to herself more than once, but his tightly clasped wand never once dropped form his hand so she knew he was really still very much alert and present.

After some time he moved to the base of the cabinet , his fingers reaching out to run along the very bottom edge of it, when she felt the first stirrings of movement beneath her.

She had made herself a cosy sort of den in the chest, with the rolled up curtains acting as a comfortable enough perch for her to lay on.

But now the curtains were beginning to shuffle of their own accord beneath her weight, as though something was stirring in their tartan depths.

The sharp pain that came when she felt teeth clamp down on her tail was enough to make her forget herself and let out a ear-piercing squeal as she scrambled out of the chest lid, landing heavily with a thud on her paws.

Turning back, tail tucked in tightly to her body now, she looked up to see a flurry of blue movement above her. A dozen Cornish pixies were starting to zoom out of the same chest she had been hiding in, one of them dropping down to her level and licking its sharp little lips furiously. She saw some of her own fur disappearing into its mouth as it swallowed as she realised the little monster had intentionally bit down on her tail. It eyed her up for a second helping when she felt a dozen little nipping fingers grab her paws and haul her off her feet.

She saw the ground disappear below her as a group of the pixies carried her upwards almost to the ceiling. They grabbed her fur and furiously swung her around in circles making her cry out in pain as her fur was pulled from all angles and her skin pinched in their tiny grip as they danced in the air.

Their sniggering little laughter was all she could make out as they continued to torment her, seemingly feeding off her terrified energy as she continued to squeal and whimper loudly in pain. They zoomed and span, laughing maniacally in high pitched screeches that made her want to kick their little faces off their bodies.

Suddenly, their grip began to loosen all at once and she saw only the edges of a flash of bright green light envelop a few that had been holding painfully onto her tail.

Each pair of hands that had held her instantly vanished and in almost the exact same moment, she saw the floor rushing straight for her, gravity taking over as she fell in a heaped pile on the hard stone. She had managed to pivot herself last minute before she hit the ground and her left side took the brunt of the impact.

A shooting pain instantly replaced what she had felt a moment earlier, making the pixies playing with her an almost pleasant memory. She could feel all of her limbs and wondered if that was to her detriment, numbness would have been preferable to the feeling of her side being repeatedly stabbed, a deep constant pain began to well all along her side and she unwillingly let out a hurt cry as she struggled to get control over her fast breathing. She was faintly aware of further blasts of green light in the air above her but the pain in her body constantly kept her attention centred on it, not to be ignored.

This was the first time she had hurt herself as her Animagus, and she wondered dimly if that was why it hurt so much, like when a child would hurt themselves with only the smallest of injuries yet scream as though the world was ending. That was exactly what her little lungs felt like doing right then but, luckily, some small voice in the depths of her conscious brought her back to reality and reminded her where she was, just as two shiny black shoes appeared next to her.

Hermione didn't look up and running away wasn't an option so she had to simply lay there and pray to whichever gods would listen that Draco Malfoy would either ignore her completely or at least not injure her any more than she already was; He struck her as the type who wouldn't think twice about kicking a poor, wounded animal while they were down.

To her complete amazement he did neither. 'Episkey.' he calmly spoke, crouching down and pointing his wand straight at her limp form.

She felt a sudden jolt through her body as her small bones jerked themselves back into place from their misplaced sockets. There was still a resonant warm pain down her hip and into her leg but she found she could instantly shift her weight back to all fours again without too much difficulty, and only when she breathed did the swelling in her side seem to bother her enough to whimper slightly. She began to slowly back away from him, to take shelter under a nearby low table but with the effort, the pain came back slowly and she let out a quiet but distinctly audible cry as she moved. Draco stepped towards her but she backed away even faster then. Sensing her panic, it seemed, he stopped following and instead just watched her shirk away from him.

'Careful, I don't think I've healed everything.' He started to say then groaned, 'I'm talking-' he sighed. 'I'm talking to a fucking animal.' he rubbed his hand over his eyes tiredly.

She dared shift her gaze to look up into his face, wary of what she might find looking back at her.

'Little bastards,' he muttered, walking away from her and treading on the fallen bodies of the pixies spread out around them. 'That's with my compliments from last time,' he spat as he kicked one of them out of his way altogether, it flew gangly through the air in a now-pale haze of grey rather than their usual peaky blue.

It was with a drop in her stomach that she realised Draco Malfoy had successfully cast the killing curse not just once but, as her eyes scanned the floor taking in the scattering of grey tiny carcases, many.. many times.