He hated it always. When two from the Most Ancient House of Black sealed their union and bore the great house their first born son. Their heir, that duty became nothing but a burden. A title, a deception concealed behind a garland of silk wrapped prettily for him. They were croesus, opening concealed doors and brought other houses to their feet. And he relished in it, he was spoiled, he was given everything. He was the crowned prince, until a hat, of all things, told them otherwise.

He hated that name, hated the power. He rebelled against his family and consorted with those who are deemed lesser. He played in the mud and acted like a traitor, his pristine name relished in getting dirty, like a dog playing in the muddy puddle. He branded his leather jacket like an armor and traded his broom for deafening contraptions. He thought he was prince no more, until the day he felt the heavy cape of dominion settle on his magic and knew right away his great uncle, the Black's paterfamilias passed. He hated that power, so he never took on his responsibility until his cousin went mad, his brother suffered alone, and his parents shriveled in misery. All their magic corrupted, erratic and groundless. He let that be, his own personal hatred destroyed the once great house. So when the Aurors came to capture him, his sins were not just with the Potters. He failed his family, he failed his house, he failed his friends. And all he could do was surrender. The madness consuming his very core and the only relief that day was confessing that he has failed, he failed them all.

The prince thought he hated his crown. But what he really hated was when his crown was taken from him. Taken by a hat, a school house, and an old wizard. And now all the prince could do was surrender to these two young children, one he understands with a sense of dread that they want to play with fire and is just all too happy to see the world burn down.

"You two don't know what you're doing." Despite his anger he can't seem to lash out more than he wants. His voice was still weak, rasp and full of exhaustion.

"The… the gravity of what you've done. You cannot even comprehend the sheer stupidity of what you've taken boy!"

"Oh, that's where you're wrong dear cousin. I know how stupid this exactly is."

"Then why. Why have you done this?"

"Tell me cousin." Draco crouched on his level, and his silver orbs stared right at his own. "Why did you betray the Potters that night?"

Sirius laughed brokenly. Rotting teeth splayed apart committing to the image of the deranged man who wasted away in prison. Hermione wanted to gag at the sight, but it would do no good to show such open revulsion towards the man.

"My dear dear boy. Is that what this is? A ploy for Harry!" The older man tried to deride. "I do not answer to my father, not especially to my mother, and certainly not to you boy!" He took a good spit at the younger man's face. But Draco remained unblinking. He wasn't surprise to see the goo of spit suspended in mid-air, it was quite disgusting actually.

"That's just gross Sir. We don't know what vile sickness you might pass to us." She said in a matter-of-fact.

"Sickness? Really Hermione?!"

"What? You'd never know!"

"I just absorbed his blood, and now you want to tell me he might infect us with something?" He asked her incredulously.

"Huh… I forgot about that." She blinked owlishly at him as the forgotten spit splattered on the stone floor.

"The boon should be great enough to hold up to this ridiculousness! I can't believe I agreed to this. I feel so dirty!"

"I quite agree. For a Slytherin you do trust too easily."

"Hermione!" The sheer absurdity of the two should have amused him. But it just further justify that they are just children. Minors who might as wall just cast an Unforgivable at him.

"Holy Salazar! I could have Dragon pox now!"

"I was thinking more of AIDS…."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? Is that... worse?"

"Uhmm…"

"You are both fools." He laughed mockingly. "You think you can what? Take my magic? My very right as Paterfamilias and heir to the seat of House Black?! And then what? What would you do to poor Harry!"

"Poor Harry? Are you trying to tell us you care for the boy who's family you betrayed?" She asks. Hermione was beginning to see where the man was coming from. Could he be Imperiused that night, or was it compulsion from the Black family?

"Care for him? I am the boy's godfather! I have vowed to love and care for him as much as my own! And you dare think to punish me for something you clearly do not understand!"

The two didn't have a comeback for that. Draco was all too willing to let Hermione do all the talking, and she was trying to piece together something. She wished he could be here to help her out, but he was silent as the night. Probably watching the scene before her.

When Hermione sat squat in front of him, she asked in a soft voice. "Then why didn't you?" Sirius stared confusingly at her. "Why didn't you love and care for him?" He was rooted at the spot and not just because of his bindings, her question was better at it anyway. Why didn't he?He thought. Why did he let himself rot in that prison, he could have been Padfoot after mourning and escaped to find the boy. Instead his own selfish anger and thirst for revenge brought him out of that hell hole, it was Peter that drew that spark in him, not for Harry, not for James, not his responsibility. He was too willing to rot in that prison, to atone his sins, instead of redeeming himself and his house. He could have well provided for Harry, rather than let him suffer alone with the muggles. Why didn't he? He couldn't answer her.

"Why would you go after Harry now?" Oh I wasn't after him. Not him girl, not him. "Why did you betray the Potters that night?" Still, the man remained silent. As he look closely Sirius could see that her eyes were not amber, but gold. Could eyes be golden? Such predatory looking eyes in such an innocent looking girl. Why does the Malfoy boy even listen to her so well. "I'm the one asking questions Mister." Did he say that out loud? And as he felt hypnotize by her irises, he suddenly realize with a startling awareness. But it couldn't be, she's just a child. He was from a prominent pureblood house, even once an Auror too, how could he not feel it. "You're a legilimens." He whispered with dawning horror.

She didn't dare answer him, Hermione could feel the intent stare Draco was giving from behind her. "How could you be after Peter, Padfoot?" She said carefully "Could it be the late Peter Pettigrew?"

Draco whispered Padfoot in recognition. "Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs…" Sirius snapped his attention towards the boy. How could he know? What more do they know? "You're the Marauders. Is that your pack Padfoot? Why did you betray your pack?" Her voice was not in whispers anymore. She was demanding and it agitated him. He never meant to betray them!

"I did not betray them you insolent foolish girl! You know nothing of my pack!" But his ire was not the only one rising. And she's quite fed up with the unanswered questions. So she slapped the man, the resounding clap to his face shocked Draco and even herself.

"You know what I think Mister." She was trying to ignore the sting on her hands, she didn't mean to put such force in that slap. "I think you're so full of yourself. I think you have let your anger fester that you have become blinded." She continued on, taking in his defeated look.

"I don't think you went back to Hogwarts for Harry. Why are you thinking of Peter Pettigrew?" He scowled darkly at the mention of the rat's name. "Rat? Padfoot… Your dog animagus has pads for feet. Rat… Wormtail?" He looks on in shock, how could this slip of a girl deduce as much.

"Hermione, what are you talking about."

"They're Animagus', his pack. His is a dog, he's looking for a rat…" She looked on for confirmation, the older man just sat in glaring silence. "I guess the Messrs are all animagus'. What is Moony and Prongs."

"Moony. The moon, probably a wolf." The blonde boy interjected.

"Wizards are never really clever with their naming."

"Hey! I detest to that!" He protested, insulted with the witch.

"Oh shush DRAGON!"

It was vexing to see, two kids trying to solve a useless mystery. What for, why the need to drain him of his magic, of his rights.

"I'm trying to determine if you would be useful outside this chamber Sir, that's why. Now I believe you're after Peter Pettigrew? How could that be, when he was reported dead."

"Reported only deary. No one saw a body, didn't they."

True, so that means Pettigrew was part of that pack… someone who can hide after the explosion. "So Peter Pettigrew is the rat? Wormtail is it? That leaves us two more, one Messrs Moony and Prongs. Moony could be a wolf." The older man flinched. "And prongs. An animal with some sort of protrusion, one with claws? No? Horns perhaps? Antlers then?" His eyes tightened. She didn't need to be a Legilimens for this, the man was quite easy to read. His transparency was what must have landed him in Gryffindor, that and his brash actions.

"He was Sirius Black, class of '78. The file you got did say he was rather close with Potter's father, with Pettigrew and Lupin." Draco thought loudly.

"Professor Lupin?"

"The very same one!" Draco smugly said. There it was again. Lupin, what an odd name.

"I have a theory Draco, but it could wait."

"Oh no! Not again…." He whined petulantly.

"Anyway Mr. Sirius Black, sorry if we're getting off track a bit. But if you're looking for Pettigrew, he's not here in Hogwarts." The man cringed a bit. "Or is he?"

"What is it to you anyway girl? So what the snivelling rat is here in Hogwarts, clearly you have spoiled any plans that I have."

"So you do have a plan with the rat, Mr. Pettigrew?" She asks and the man was back to glaring silently at her, trying to conceal anymore thoughts he has.

"You know Sir. There is only one rat in this castle." Hermione said. And just then, it dawned on Draco who she was talking about.

"Holy shite! Are you trying to tell me Weaselbee's rat is a grown ass man? Does he not carry that filth around in his pockets?"

"I think he sleeps with it too."

"Oh Salazar, that's frightfully repulsive!"

"Well, he is a rat Draco. What did you expect." But before Sirius Black could bark out a laugh, she stunned him.

"Now what?" The blonde asks while dusting off dust and grime from his person. The place was old and not even a Scourgify could clean his trousers.

"I have to practice the obliviation spell, I can't bollocks that one. When I find the right time I'll send him to the Dementors, possibly arrange it so deep in the forest."

"Why obliviate him if you're just going to send him to the Dementors? Clearly the man will be kissed and will have no need for his memories." She looked on guiltily.

"The spell is not for him, is it? It's for me?" His hand stilled from adjusting his sleeve as he proceeded to stare incredulously at the witch. "Do you think I'd forget right away what just happened? Not to mention what I have now? The magic of the Head of House Black?!" Draco was nearly screaming. Feeling betrayed by her lack of trust and her double-crossing ways. Gryffindor his arse, the girl was just a snake as a Slytherin.

"This has something to do with that project isn't it? Clearly your job with Black is far from over. Have you lost your senses? Pray tell how will you accomplish this "project" without what did you call it - being an abomination? A monster?!" She flinched at him. "How can I ground your magic let alone help you when I have no recollection of… of this!" He waves his wand frantically at everything, getting more distressed as he spoke.

Trust no one but ourselves Hermione. That's what he said. See, Hermione may have been a recluse for most part of her childhood but in actual, she was never truly alone. He had always been there, just at the back of her head whispering to her thoughts. When she was younger, she grew tired of his voice. It felt like he was too commanding and she but a puppet full of strings. Still, her younger self preferred to be alone, because in the end he was all she had. Not for the lack of trying though, she did try to make friends her own age, but no one could really relate to a 5 year old girl who prefers books and float pebbles in the park for fun. She never really expected this to change in Hogwarts, she's quite aware no matter where you are children are all the same. Even back in France, her Great Nan's neighbors all thought her to be too prudish, bossy, swotty, ms. know-it-all, a loner. And nothing changed in Hogwarts, even Harry thinks as much. So to have a boy, her same age, follow her around in her own adventures made her skeptic even if she begrudgingly admitted to herself he is fun to be with. Despite not following with most pop culture she spew, the boy is smart. He is talented like her, he should be as he was greatly influenced by the elder Lord Malfoy. He could hold a conversation even if it's just to talk about the mundane knowledge of magic. It was also a plus he could drown you with an Aguamenti, intended or not.

Trust was really hard for her to give, there is only one person in the world she trusts most. However, it also made her aware that he has others that he trust, perhaps she could do the same. And if it doesn't work out, well her father has a lot of followers, Draco could be her first.

"Oh Draco." She relents. What else could she do, she grew a soft spot for the boy. "What say you hmm? When we leave this chamber there is no coming back to what once was. This is too important for me. I… I can't fail this, I can't have you in the way and this is not some adventure where one writes in a novel, of riding dragons and finding treasure."

"Well… I've already drew blood didn't I? What makes you say this is not that story." He smirked at her. Arrogant git.

"Don't say I didn't warn you so."

"I don't know Granger, there's just something alluring about your darkness. It is not as consuming as Grandfather describes, it feels rather pure than corrupted."

"Speak for yourself Draco. I'm still coming to terms with this, but I'm passed that point of return. I know I want to do this, I need to do it." She looked imploringly at him, her wide eyes daring him.

Well the two may be speaking in riddles, but Draco could understand how deep she will drag him, deep as the trenches in the ocean where no light can touch. And just like his ancestors, he has always welcomed the darkness. He is a Malfoy after all, unlike his Father who prefers politics like the Selwyn blood in them. He, much like his Grandfather, have always gravitated towards power, to feel in their core the awakening of pure magic. Magic in its basal form, albeit one that is much darker. With the intensity of the Black's magic he now understands what has attracted him to her. Like a magnetic force pulling him to her side. It might be her pretty head, but he bets his inheritance she has bewitched him with her magic. Magic that can drown you in euphoria. One that only a family like his can appreciate.

"What makes you think I don't want it also?" He said defiantly, challenging her to object once more. But there is always something about the Malfoys that could break your resolve, the very reason they're good in politics.

"Fine then." She sighed in defeat. "Draco…" She stared him up with such ferocity he nearly faltered. "Would you like to split your soul, sell it to the devil, and make a Horcrux with me?" Ohh.. that kind of project. Draco gulped thickly.

"Wow… did not expect that at all." He whispered more to himself. Exhaling loudly through his nose, he just looked helplessly at her. Oh well can't turn back now.

"Granger… I believe Grandfather has an entire shelf dedicated to that. You made quite an impression on him last summer. Won't be hard to convince them to bring you over this coming hols." Draco tried for casual, how else could he answer that. What with all that loyal declaration of I'll follow you in the dark.

"Really?" And she had never smiled so brightly at one person.

...

AN: And that ends part 1 of year 3.