A/N: Thanks for all the fantastic reviews. Have a great Christmas!
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.
"Stop!" Hermione screamed, and Harry immediately stopped walking, surprised. "I'm coming down." She explained, and then bent down as if doing something to her feet. "Go, now!" She whispered to Draco, and he, still shocked, crawled up the stairs and into the hallway. She got up and smiled at Harry, then proceeded to go down.
"Going up is awfully tiring," She said with a smile as she leaned onto him for an embrace. He pulled away and led her to the living room.
"Hermione, after last night," He said, sensing if she could get his drift. Her face retained a curiously happy expression, so he continued. "The dark mark. I'm going to ask Lupin to pull you out—"
"But you mustn't!" She said, which sort of startled Harry. "Don't you see? All the more I should stay." She said with a chilling smile.
"It's too dangerous." He said, but she still protested.
"I want this thing to end as much as you do, Harry." She replied, her voice sounding of exasperation. "And I want to do whatever it takes to make that happen." She flicked her wand and a cup of tea appeared out of nowhere. She took a small sip. "It's not like I'm fighting anyone. I'm simply," She said, trying to find a word less dangerous than spying. "Observing people."
"You seem to be taking everything casually." He said suspiciously.
"I must. Or else they'll notice." She said, pointing to the houses outside.
"Well, okay. You want to join us for breakfast?" He asked.
"No, thanks. I reckon Mrs. Weasley's sent food already." She said.
"Take care now, okay?" He said, and she smiled in reply. A loud whoosh was again heard and the green flames engulfed him totally, and the next second he was gone. She sighed in relief, and ran up the stairs to find Draco.
"The dark mark. I'm going to ask Lupin to pull you out—" He heard Potter say, and suddenly her motives were clear. He knew that she was keeping him here to get him to do something in relation to that order the Dark Lord kept on telling him about. After hearing him mutter a goodbye, he ran to the room where he stayed.
"Malfoy?" Hermione said as she peered through the door. "Harry's gone."
"Good. I can't stand breathing the same air as him." He said, and then stood up from the bed, going out and heading into the staircase once again.
"He didn't notice anything," She said, answering the question he had wanted to ask. He kept his back turned but stopped and nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" He asked, wondering if she was going to break easily.
She too walked down the staircase, heading for the Gryffindor dining room. "In due time, Malfoy." She answered, thinking it wasn't best to trust him easily. Besides, he hasn't said anything yet.
"Death Eaters from the south of Britain has sent their affirmations, My Lord." Wormtail said, bowing deeply in front of the man who, after a decade, finally has his chance for domination.
"Excellent. Our plan is in progress, I presume?" He asked, drumming his pale, white fingers on his lap. He knew patience is key to the plan. He looked around, and saw his minions around him, subjecting to him solely because of fear, never loyalty.
"The mole has been planted, My Lord." Wormtail replied, his voice quivering. He knew a mistake could cost him his life.
"Bring me Severus, Wormtail." He said, dismissing his servant with a flick of his hand. Wormtail hastily got to his feet; he still could not understand why the Dark Lord trusted Snape. He has long been an ally of Dumbledore, and suddenly he switched sides, bringing with him precious information, which rendered him very useful to the Dark Lord. Still, it would not change years of betrayal.
After several minutes, Snape appeared in front of him. His robe was torn and muddied, his face filled with scratches and his body with bruises. He held, in his damaged right arm, his wand.
"You wanted me, My Lord?" He asked.
"You have been hiding out in the Forbidden Forest?" He asked, his tone curious yet showing an air of omnipotence.
"Yes, My Lord. I have been in contact with Greyback, and the plan—"
"You fear to be found by the Order." He said, revealing his true intentions. "Why, Severus? You do not trust my protection?"
"I trust it completely, My Lord." He answered respectfully, wondering why his skill with occlumency did not work. It was, after all, a simple lie. "I know them," He continued, "They will not rest until they bring justice to Dumbledore's death."
"It was not young Malfoy who did it." He said, sighing with exasperation. "Do you condone this?"
"I do not, My Lord." He answered. "But in defense to him, he is just a young boy—"
"He directly defied my orders, under your guidance!" He bellowed, standing up. Snape took a step back, clutching his wand more tightly, preparing for a counter attack. He had been in the Dark Lord's employ long enough to know what he can do when infuriated. Wormtail gave a rotten smile.
"Forgive me, my Lord," Snape said quickly, bowing down in deep remorse.
"You have proven useful, Severus." He said, calming down. "I will not punish you this time." He sat down, fingering his wand in his pocket.
"You are most kind, My Lord," Snape said, glancing up to meet his eyes in gratitude and bowing down once more.
"You know what happens to people who disobey me, Severus. I do not like to be tested." He said, "I want you to kill young Malfoy."
Snape could only bow down in reply. "Thank you for your tolerance, My Lord." He said, and disapparated quickly out of the dark, underground chamber. The Dark Lord smiled.
"Everything is as should be, Wormtail."
The moon shone through gaps in the curtains, which showed fragments of the interiors mostly with dark green velvet and silver silk, which demonstrated the person's loyalty to the house of Slytherin. Ironically, Draco's room was opposite Hermione's, and it has been quite a few hours since they bid each other good evening.
"Run, mother." He said, pained. He saw images of green flashes, which were aimed directly at her. Alternating with this is the picture of a door, a door with an emerald snake in its knob. He ran after her, but could not catch up. There were too many people blocking the way…
"Malfoy!" Hermione said, shaking him. He woke up, only to see a blurry image of Hermione. He got up quickly, surveying the place. He was still surrounded by silk and velvet; it was only a dream.
"Are you alright?" She asked. "I heard you screaming—"
"Get out, Granger." He spat, glaring at her. He could not believe his worst enemy caught him at the moment he was most weak.
She got out of his bed, "Fine." She said coldly, and then ran out of the room quickly. He caught his breath, and closed his eyes again, images from his dream still playing in his mind.
Hermione got only a few more hours sleep before she woke up again. Glancing at her clock, which read 5:15 am, she figured it was a safe time to get up. Draco was probably still asleep, and the thought of hexing him after what happened last night sounded pretty good. Getting out of her room quietly, she made her way into his room. She opened the door slightly, and found out that he wasn't in the room. The bed was made, and she felt a small pang inside her, thinking that he left.
She walked towards the library, where she knew she would always find solace. Books always calmed her, for books could never hurt her. Books wouldn't judge her. Opening the door, she found Draco sitting in an armchair beside a big window, watching the sunrise.
"Oh." She said, disappointed. It was then that Draco noticed her presence since he glanced at her, then he went back to staring at the window.
"Help yourself. Don't mind me," He said solemnly, never taking his eyes off the window. He heard the door close and the sound of footsteps in the room. She looked at him, and he seemed troubled, yet trying to show a peaceful exterior. His gaze was fixed on the scene before him, which showed shades of pink, orange and yellow.
"Malfoy," She said, wanting to inquire about last night.
"Granger." He said, dismissing her statement before she even said it.
"Well, I'm going now." She said, deciding that this was not the time to bring it up. She turned her back and made her way to the door, but was stopped when she heard Draco speak.
"I went to her, you know." He said, still calm. She faced him and went a couple of steps closer, keeping silent. "Before I went here."
An air of expectant silence followed, and after a few moments, he continued.
"I asked her to hide, because I knew the Dark Lord would be coming for her." He said, "After what I did, he will." Hermione noticed a tone of sadness in his voice. Cold, insensate Malfoy, feeling remorse.
Before she could open her mouth to ask, he looked at her, continuing his story. "They were supposed to mark me that night…"
Flashback"You have done well, young Malfoy." Voldemort's cold voice echoed in the halls. Amidst them were many others like him, inferior but like him nonetheless. Draco bowed down in front of the Dark Lord.
"It is my life to serve you, My Lord." He said monotonously. He could sense the others, jealous that a young boy was getting all this recognition, envious, but the most dominant emotion was fear. He knew because he felt it too.
"Hold out your left hand, Draco." The Dark Lord commanded, and he immediately did so. He knew what would transpire next; he was about to be marked.
"Your father would be very proud of what you've become." He said, never sensing the error he made in doing so. After all, he was god among them. Draco suddenly stood up, covering his hand, his eyes in horror. He quickly disapparated, leaving the others troubled and the Dark Lord infuriated.
"Find him!" Voldemort bellowed, and at once all that were present were gone.
End of Flashback"You ran." Hermione said, realizing what was now happening. The supposed heir to the throne of the Dark Lord ran the day he was to be named as such. "Why?"
"I couldn't be like him." Draco said coldly, blatantly referring to his father. He gave a small, sarcastic laugh. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I'm supposed to hate you."
"Supposed to?" She asked.
"It makes sense, doesn't it? I'm in Slytherin, and you're in Gryffindor. I'm a pure blood, and you're a mu—" He stopped when he saw Hermione glaring at him. "Muggle born." He continued.
"You know, there's this muggle writer named Shakespeare." She said, sitting down in the armchair in front of him. "He wrote this beautiful story called Romeo and Juliet."
"Fascinating." He said sardonically.
"The thing is, Romeo and Juliet are from two bitterly opposed families." She said, and Draco could get the meaning. "But despite that, they still fell in love." She said in a dreamy voice, then suddenly breaking out of her lovestruck trance. "Well, the story ended with their ironic deaths, but still."
"That's disgusting." Draco remarked.
"How come?" She asked.
"You're implying that we fall in love?" He said, dreading every word.
"No, that's disgusting!" She protested. "I'm just saying, it doesn't mean that if it makes sense, that's what supposed to happen. That's what choices are for, you know."
"You confuse me, Granger." He said, standing up.
So, there! Who's the mole? What's supposed to happen? Review to find out!