A/N: One of my absolute favorite stories on fanfiction has to be the most underappreciated. It is absolutely amazing, filled with detail and a plot I can honestly say I've NEVER read before - it's so freakin' creative! Please take a look at the story 'Everything to Lose' by Heptagon - I promise you won't regret it!!

For those of you who like long stories, it's already on chapter 19 with a pre-story one-shot as well. It's so good you guys, trust me. It's a favorite story of mine so you can find it in my favorite's stories section. :)

Alright, Happy reading!

Dumbledore's Lament - Chapter 5

As Hermione laid in the comforts of her large four poster bed, she lightly tugged on one of her various curls, thinking about how the hell she was going to get it. She knew where it was in theory, but how the hell could she find the exact location? It was not like she could ask Harry where it was or Dumbledore, but she'd have to find it herself.

So how to go about it?

She'd come up with a plan a while ago, but now it seemed like she could not risk it, especially with Dumbledore questioning her the way he was. She would need something full proof at a time when she'd be sure nobody could walk in on her. There would need to be plenty of time to find the precise location. The young girl would have to find it period or else it would be on her head - Voldemort made that perfectly clear.

"Hermione are you alright? You've been really quiet all day."

Hermione would recognize the nasally voice of Lavender Brown anywhere. Rolling her brown eyes, Hermione muttered, "Fine. I just...need a few minutes alone, okay?"

"Sure," chipped the other girl. Hermione heard the distinct sound of several feet padding out of the room followed by the sound of a shutting door. She realized Lavender must have ushered her fellow classmates out thinking the recently returned Gryffindor required some much needed space. Smiling, Hermione went back to her thoughts in the privacy of the entire seventh year dorm.

Reverting back to the topic at hand, Hermione was realizing the situation was beginning to mount. The curious Gryffindor did not quite understand the point of getting such a thing, but if Voldemort needed it, she'd get it.

I have to find it. When I do, they'll realize where my loyalties lie. Then maybe I can be with Draco entirely, in front of the clan and his parents. I mean...it's not as though Master is a pureblood so why should they look down on me? My blood is anything but muddy! They'll see...I'll make them see.

Smiling smugly, she left the room to venture into the Gryffindor common room. On her pedestal again, all eyes immediately fell on the girl with charcoal hair, wondering what she would do next. It disgusted her how everyone seemed to be fascinated by her, like she was a celebrity in some trashy muggle magazine.

I am not bloody Harry Potter! Stop staring at me you bunch of ingrates!

She scowled though it only looked like a sigh before she trudged out of the room to pass by Ginny Weasley, her blue eyes cast downward.

"Hey Hermione," the redhead said softly, barely audible. Hermione did not respond aloud, but just nodded, suspicion about the sixteen-year-old in front of her rising.

"I guess we haven't really spoken too much lately," scoffed Ginny. Whether it was bitterness geared at herself or at Hermione, she did not know nor did she care. Hermione had bigger and more important things occupying her thoughts.

"I guess not. Um...I've got to go meet Harry and—"

"Isn't he with the quidditch team?" interjected Ginny sharply. "I'm just going to grab my boots I left in my room and then I'm going down. Why would you be going to see him?"

Hermione noted the suspicion in her voice. Damn it—Now I'm going to have to deal with her on my ass. Bitch...

"Oh I just wanted to spend some time with him. I forgot you guys have a match tomorrow."

Hermione most definitely forgot about the quidditch match scheduled for the next day. She could not have found a better solution for her predicament even if she tried. The bloody match! Everyone will be there, including Dumbledore, which will leave me free to do whatever in his office. The stupid bloke never puts an extra spell on it when he is gone and I know the gargoyle password so...it couldn't be more perfect!

Sighing, Ginny seemed content with Hermione's answer. "Oh, right. I guess I'll see you later then," she said, walking away from the older girl's somber face. Hermione was acutely aware just how sad she looked on the outside, precisely how she wanted to look, but on the inside she was laughing like a clown on muggle helium.

0000000

"Draco."

The blond boy had been walking down the hall with Blaise on his right side when he distinctly heard the sound of a female voice calling out his name. Not that he minded hearing his name uttered by the loveliness of a girl, but the voice sounded distressed. More than that, the voice sounded like Hermione.

"Draco," the voice said again, this time more urgent than before.

This time he stopped. Draco literally stopped walking in the middle of the aisle, various people staring at the well-known seventh year boy. Blaise, who could have sworn he heard someone calling out to his best mate, looked at him with uncertainty.

"Draco–"

"I'll meet you in the quidditch pit, alright."

It was not a question, but rather a firm command. Blaise just nodded, walking along and bustling the people who had stopped to stare at the duo. Meanwhile, Draco looked around, attempting to figure out precisely where the voice was.

"Draco, damn it—to your left."

He strode in the direction, keeping a keen eye out as to make sure nobody followed him. Once he reached the darkness of the hall to his left, he felt two hands, two very small hands, yank on him. After a few moments, he was pulled into an empty classroom where he met an anxious Hermione.

"What's wrong?" he asked on instinct. Something told him by her appearance that something was out of place, something was wrong—something deep down irked him.

"Nothing is wrong, I assure you. It's actually the opposite since everything is magnificently perfect!" she screamed, launching herself into his arms which loosely held at her waist.

Hermione pulled back when she realized he was not returning her embrace. "I'm sorry, let me explain—"

"Please do," he uttered gruffly.

"Alright, well I actually need to since I'm going to need your help. I realized that the quidditch match tomorrow is the perfect opportunity for me to complete my task since everyone will be outside save for Filch who will be no trouble to me. I'll set off some spell to make sure he stays away from where I will be."

Draco nodded, urging her to continue.

"I couldn't ask for it to be more perfect. Everyone here loves quidditch and everyone knows I'm not only off but have never particularly cared for the sport—I won't be missed," she said with a smile.

Draco sighed and then asked, "Then what do you need me to do?"

"Well, the matches can range from minutes to hours and I need you Draco to make it last for as long as possible. I honestly don't know how long it will take for me to find what I'm looking for and I need as much time as you can give me. Please say you'll do your best to merely thwart Harry off the snitch rather than catching it yourself."

The blond looked down, gulping thickly before he muttered with extreme distaste, "Potter is the best damn flyer in the school. The likelihood I can even catch it is slim."

"But you're amazing. I've seen you win countless of times—"

"Against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. I've never beaten Harry." His voice was grim with bitterness.

"It doesn't matter," said Hermione in an attempt to move past that; "I just need you to hold him off for as long as possible. Then, if all else fails and he does catch it, cause a stir. I don't care what you have to do—knock someone off a broom or hit Goyle with a bludger or whatever! Just make sure you don't let anyone in the castle until you see me on the grounds. Can you do that?"

Draco was silent for a while, going over every possibility which could go wrong with this. If she were to be caught, not only would she be outed for what side she's on but she'd be taken from him.

He'd die if he lost her.

"I can do it," he muttered quietly.

"Great!" she bellowed with a cheery smile, clapping at the situation. Her lips were a breath away from his own, but he stopped her before she could lay a kiss upon his mouth.

"I just...you need to promise me you'll be careful. You can't do something out of the ordinary. Just go in, find whatever it is, get it, put it somewhere safe, and then come back onto the grounds." He sounded so stern, it almost frightened Hermione—or turned her on. Either or.

"Draco, of course. You know me, I'll be in and out. You have nothing to worry about."

0000000

Everything had gone according to plan. Everything.

Nearly everyone in the entire school was down at the quidditch pit, cheering on the much anticipated match between undefeated Slytherin and Undefeated Gryffindor. Slytherin had creamed Ravenclaw, with Draco snatching the snitch in under seven minutes whereas it was a massacre by Gryffindor on Hufflepuff, with Harry catching the golden ball after his teammates had scored an incredible two-hundred and seventy points.

Long story short, the spectators were eager to see Draco and Harry challenge one another in the air.

Draco had snapped at Harry before the match eliciting several shrieks of pre-game taunting, eventually turning into a full-blown war. Harry was out for blood and every students wanted to witness it. Hermione saw Draco wink at her before he left the Great Hall.

"You coming?" asked Ginny, making her way to exit.

Hermione jerked, consumed in her thoughts to have forgotten temporarily where she was. Ginny smiled and repeated, "Sorry I startled you, but are you coming to the pit?"

"No," replied Hermione meekly, "I'll meet you guys down there later. Besides you have to get ready. Go. I'll be there for the match."

The redhead sighed before exiting, wishing desperately for the friend she use to have in Hermione. The girl was there in body, yes, but there was still something wrong with her. She thought, hoped, her friend would get back to normal by coming home to Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Hermione watched her fellow students leave the Great Hall to the point where only she and two giggling second years remained, the girls flipping over a silly Daily Prophet article about love potions, oblivious to Hermione's presence.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the girls realized how alone they were and exited, their pace heightening when they noticed Hermione sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, looking melancholy and unbelievably lonesome—just like she wanted.

Damn! I thought those girls would never leave!

Noise could already be heard from outside so Hermione was very aware of how alone she was in the castle. After casting a spell to create havoc—causing several suits of armor to run around the first level like screaming banshees, something most definitely Filch would blame on Peeves—Hermione raced to the seventh floor, jumping in front of the stone Gargoyle, the only barrier between her and Dumbledore's office.

Whispering the password, she flung herself onto the steps as it began to move, an escalator type stairway taking her to the room she knew it had to be in.

It had to be.

Right?

After opening the door slowly, paranoia making her stop to listen to her surroundings—finding it quiet, allowing her to continue—she met the sight that is Dumbledore's quirky office.

"Where are you?" she asked aloud, walking into the center, just gazing at the different objects in the room. She'd been in there several times, but the object in question was not something she'd seen with her own two eyes, merely going off of hearsay she'd gotten from Harry many years ago.

She noticed most items in the room were a hoary silver, a color she would not expect to find with Dumbledore. Gold seemed logical, but silver? It was so...Slytherin. She found this odd, but liked it none the less. She'd always had a soft spot for the color and even more so now, given her blossoming relationship with the most beautiful thing to grace the halls of Hogwarts.

Many of the objects were spinning or spitting our spurts of hot steam, the gray smoke coming out in puffs before dissolving at the starry ceiling.

A few of the former Headmasters and mistresses paintings were staring at her, giving her unappreciative looks she did not like. The stupid portraits were easy to manipulate so she did not worry about Dumbledore hearing anything from them. It was not a matter of being persuasive, but the ability to cast a certain spell, one which would not permit them to speak of her entrance. Dumbledore would never be the wiser.

Sneering, she looked around trying to find the object she desired. Taking a few steps on the mushy blue carpet, Hermione peered at every object in the room.

In a closet beneath a fluttering star, apparently bewitched to whiz around the room, her eyes were hooked to a lovely layer of silken fabrics. She opened the cabinet where she met beautiful cloaks with colors ranging from dark purple to crimson red. Like most girls, she was entranced by the lovely materials.

After staring with her mouth agape for a few moments, she finally shut the door and faced the rest of the room in search of the one item she needed.

"Where in the bloody hell did the fool put it?" she snarled aloud. Suddenly a thought came to her—"His desk!"

Her dragon-hide flats echoed in the spacious room as she tiptoed to the huge, organized desk. Most people's first instinct would be to pull out all the drawers, ruffle through them until they found what they were looking for. However, Hermione understood order and logically she knew that if it were her desk, she'd notice anything if it were out of place. So, with precision and grace a healer would use, she searched through the drawers, one-by-one.

Most of them held important parchments, something she'd foreseen. Many of them concerned important things which had happened at Hogwarts, some she even recognized; Triwizard Tournament, the Sorcerer's stone, Hogwarts under Umbridge, Hermione Granger—

Wait. Me? Wh-what exactly is in there?

Her curiosity got the better of her, as it often did. She should have put the folder containing her parchments aside, should have not worried about it. Not Hermione Granger. No way in bloody hell.

She had anticipated the parchments to be about her disappearance, papers concerning who she was and what had happened. What she found was something catching her completely and utterly off guard—diary notes written by Dumbledore himself!

March 5

It has gotten worse. I fear we may never find Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. I understand Molly's desire to continue the search, but I think it may be rather futile. I may not want to believe it, but I truly believe we must come to terms with whether or not they are alive.

Hermione Granger may be a smart witch, but I highly doubt her intelligence would be enough to get her though the ordeal. I doubt anyone's intelligence could get them out safely, especially when Tom is known for ending his victims as soon as they're caught. I do not want to believe it's so, but it has been months and I need to be realistic here.

I am having trouble debating whether or not to call off the search. My gut tells me to, but my heart tells me to keep searching, keep looking for these two students. If I bring it up to any Weasley member, my head will be put on a platter. If I bring it up to Harry—Mother of Merlin, he can barely contain his hysteria. Some Order members, such as Severus and Moody, think I should call it off. We do need the man power at headquarters, but I'm still so hesitant to do so.

I don't want to believe those two kids are dead.

Hermione gulped thickly, her dark eyes welling up with tears for some odd reason.

No, not really. Truth be told, her body felt like crying because the letter had managed to get under her skin. It was not so much about what was said, but the manner it had been written in. The sorrow and guilt Dumbledore felt was nearly palpable—he felt strongly over losing a student; her.

Before any of the drops fell down, she looked to the next letter.

May 23

It's official; the Ministry has called off the search on Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley after finding their circumstances to be anything other than fatal. It does seem like death could be the likely captor at this point, but I do not want to give in. I have a feeling in the back of my mind they are still alive.

I have to believe this in order to remain as upbeat as possible. Most of the students are beyond mourning for their classmates, aside from the Gryffindors, most of which have refused to believe their friends are gone forever. I admire their persistence and faith to believe the two are alive.

Parents are worried the two will not be the only losses. The Abbott family has gone so far as to send me a howler, requesting the school to close off all outside activities such as Hogsmeade and quidditch. I think the students would be in an uproar if I cut off the quidditch, but it does seem like a good idea. If two students can be taken at Hogsmeade so easily, what is keeping Tom and his followers from just arriving here?

Hermione had to admit he had a point, a valid one too. Why didn't Voldemort just come to Hogwarts and snatch Harry? Get a large group, have me lure him to a certain locale, and then pounce. It seems like a good plan, right?

Before she could get engrossed in her own thoughts again, her brown eyes swept the next piece of crisp parchment.

July 27

It is nearing Harry's birthday and he is becoming extremely irritable and fowl to everyone around him. I understand his loss, but the grieving needs to stop. He has yet to come to terms with the possibility his friends are dead and merely sounds crazy, believing they are on vacation and have not been around much, lacking in giving him birthday attention. I have half a mind to shake the boy into his own senses, but why? What good will come of it?

Molly is just as hysterical with little help coming from her family. Ginny has taken residence in her room and practically refuses to come out each day, only exiting during meal times and even then it's seldom. The older boys have all thrown themselves into work so they would not have to think about the loss of their brother. As for Arthur, well, I've never seen the man more focused. He just traipse around the Burrow as though nothing is wrong, same as when he is in the Ministry.

Back to Harry—I spoke with him the other day about the Weasleys and his own breakdown. The boy just stared at me with an expression of blank bewilderment until I finally finished. After a long period of silence, the boy spoke with so much malice and hate that I had trouble distinguishing whether or not it was Harry or some goblin possessing him.

He said, "I'm going to kill him. I am going to find them and then kill him for taking them. They are my family and I am sick of people taking my family away from me."

I obviously knew he felt strongly for both Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, but this—it seems so extreme when it happened half a year ago. I understand hate, but to have denial along with it? I fear Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one everyone expects to save the Wizarding World, may be losing his mind.

So much was going through her own mind, some feelings of confusions and others...were feelings she didn't like.

Hermione figured Harry would grieve, but over Ron—not over her. He had never given her the impression he cared about her like that. Maybe he had and she just did not want to see it.

There was another piece of parchment sticking out like a sore thumb, like it was calling out for her to read. She sighed before reading the thick lettering of the headmaster's neat handwriting.

December 26

We found her. In the name of Merlin, we bloody found her! Hermione Granger was found near Diagon Alley in a condition which I can only describe as—alive. I do not want to burden myself by reliving the pain I felt when I saw her battered body.

How the girl survived has yet to be determined, but I can only guess her cunningness and intelligence were the primary reasons. She has always been the resourceful girl so I know her ingenuity got her out of this mess. Amazing when you think about it.

The first time I saw her...I felt such a heavy pang of grief and sorrow. The poor girl had to endure so much and I cannot help but think it was my fault. I should have protected her better. I should have protected the boy better. Damn it—I should have protected my students better! I'd worry myself into a coma over this, but I know it is not the time. My students need me now more than ever to guide them, to lead them, to be their Headmaster. I'm attempting to keep it together, and from what they've seen, I have; nonetheless, I feel the strong need to apologize to the poor girl. She did not deserve this.

I am hoping within a few days she'll be more inclined to speak. The darling girl has not really spoken to anyone and her parents are in an uproar. I cannot blame them for feeling so strongly in regards to their daughter. I will not be surprised if they do not allow her to come back. I can only hope they give this remarkable girl the opportunity to continue her schooling. She, more than anyone, deserves knowledge—she yearns for it unlike others. She damn near died for it.

I admire her.

There was an odd thing forming in the pit of her stomach she was unfamiliar with. At one point she had been, but she had not felt the presence of the annoying creature for over a year. It was foreign to her now.

Guilt.

She felt guilt pool in and out around her. The feeling nearly disgusted her, but all thoughts, and feeling for that matter, left her in a flash—

Someone was opening the door...

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, but I've been busy and this chapter was harder to write than I anticipated. I definitely left some subtle hints in there so tell me what you guys think! What is she looking for? Who is opening the door? I'll give a cookie to anyone who can guess (Lol, and Stormmaster you don't count for the former since you already figured it out!).

Oh and I know the chapter is kind of short, but I had to stop it here. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but the next chapter didn't fit well in the same chapter as this. I'll try to keep the wait for the next chapter short.

READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it!

Evil's Mistress is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.