Disclaimer: Harry Potter & Co. are in a different realm - they reside with their creator Ms Rowling, not me.

slytherin-kittycat: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked that chapter. I like endings that will provide more food for thought. So hope you enjoy this one! Now comes more action...I think I'm like one of the very few DMHG fanfic writers who let them interact so little at the start. It's all in the mind...haha...

"Draco?"

He looked up. "What?"

She sat down beside him in a very gentle manner.

He felt exasperated. "Can you speak?"

"Well Draco, I thought it'd be nice to remind you your deadline is…"

"I know my own deadlines, thank you very much, when did I ever need your help!" Draco spat as he glared at a most alarmed Pansy. She leant backward a little when he glared, then recovered enough to continue being patient.

"Yes, but…"

Draco Malfoy turned again to look at her. It wasn't really a stare, nor was it a glare. Just – something cold, unfamiliar and … she just couldn't grasp that emotion in him.

"I know what I am doing, Parkinson. I don't need your interference."

"Suits me fine," replied Pansy, slightly coldly because her feelings were hurt. She got up, smoothened her cloak, then looked back at him. "I was just trying to be helpful. You know what the Dark Lord will do if you fail to comply. And you only have a couple more hours."

Then she stormed off.

But in her mind, the look in Draco's eyes was still etched in her mind. The way he had stared at her when she was about to remind him about the imminent deadline for his first task. The way…

It was…

Fear.

Harry sat at his window and looked out. He saw a few dots moving in the air across the lawn…probably the Ravenclaws were training. That reminded him of Cho. He sighed, not particularly tragically, but rather thoughtfully. Perhaps it was time he completely rid his mind of little trivial romances like these. They only served to waste time, and his first and last experience with it was certainly nothing like those fairytale like stories about love. In fact, he had grown rather disgusted reading such trashy novels and instead, focused on looking through his beloved Quidditch books. After all, it would occupy him for the rest of the month that Gryffindor was banned from the pitch.

Completely ridiculous.

Then Harry remembered about Draco Malfoy. His face just popped into his mind, and Harry frowned upon seeing the image of Malfoy smirking in front of him.

Why do I care man. That boy is a complete jerk.

He got out of his reverie of staring at the Quidditch field, then walked out of the boys' dormitory, and into the common room. There was one lone figure sitting out there, whilst everyone was mostly out playing Quidditch, chatting with each other – just avoiding the common rooms because for some reason, it was just too hot to stay in the room. The wind outside was much cooler. Harry just didn't want to go out.

Who was this person who was an oddball as much as he was?

The lone figure was sitting in front of the fire. When the room was so hot!

Harry advanced, then stepped back in surprise. "Hermione?"

She turned, and Harry saw that she had been crying.

"Hermione!" He ran forward. She got up and ran towards him too. Both of them hugged, and Harry could feel the bushy locks around him shuddering every few minutes. He sensed something was really amiss, then held Hermione back at arm's length. Her eyes were no longer bright and cheery; the eyebags were obvious, and her cheeks were grubby.

"Hermione, what's wrong with you? Is it about Malfoy? Did he do anything to you?"

Hermione shook her tresses, then she brushed her eyes roughly. "Nothing."

"Hermione, what is it that you can't tell me, or Ron?" Harry was feeling exasperated. "We can always help you! Or…or we can tell Dumbledore or something…I mean, the threat of a Death…"

"Harry, we can't keep him out of Hogwarts…" whispered Hermione, as she held on to Harry's arms. "He…doesn't deserve this!"

"But Hermione…"

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes opened wide and looked glazed for a moment. She nearly fell, but Harry's arms held onto her tightly, supporting her. He stared in bewilderment as she shuddered a little; her body was so cold! Harry gasped and shook her hard, but she remained rigid – as if she had been Petrified. But in less than a few seconds, the heat came back into her body, then the hollow look in her eyes disappeared, leaving a very confused girl in front of him. Before he could say anything, Hermione tightened her grip on Harry, then looked at him very hard with large, pleading eyes.

"We must save him…"

With that, she tore out of his grasp, and ran out of the common room.

Harry stared for a while. Then he spun around and ran out, crying, "Wait for me, Hermione! WAIT!"

Hermione ran, and ran, and ran, huffing and puffing as she did.

All she knew was that she had to get there. NOW.

There was no time to lose. Run!

She ran with all her might, shoving past bewildered schoolmates.

I can't let him do this!

She ran along the corridors, past corners…

She ran past all the classrooms…

She ran out of the castle grounds, into the field…

She ran all the way…

Then she stopped.

In front of Hagrid's hut, there was Ron.

He was sitting on a stone, looking thoughtfully towards the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief.

Only to realise that there was somebody in the shadows of the bushes. Behind him.

Ron yawned, then continued to stare ahead. He pursed up his lips, then frowned. The last few days had been quite a turmoil for him. His father had just been sent for questioning at the Ministry of Magic for interfering with some Muggle items while on a spying task – and had been forcefully punished by a Muggle for it till he landed in St. Mungo's! What was the world coming to? Ron snorted inwardly. Things were just not looking up. And Hermione! He sighed. His good friend was behaving like a complete gargoyle lately. Stoning all day long; thinking about…that ferret! Ron clenched his teeth upon thinking about all the various nasty things Draco attempted to do before, and his evil, twisted mindset.

A breeze came by.

There was a slight rustle behind. Ron sighed again.

The air was still.

Rustle.

Ron spun around.

Nothing.

Ron looked skeptically at the masses of leaves behind him.

Then he turned back, facing the Forbidden Forest again. The greenery seemed to be some kind of mental painkiller at the moment.

Suddenly, he felt something behind. He didn't turn around this time, though he took deeper breaths. He felt something moving…something advancing…Ron put his hand into his pocket…ready to turn around…

"EXPELL – " POP!

Ron stared as he swung around, wand pointing out to emptiness. A look of confusion spread over his face, as he looked dazedly at the bushes in front of him. It was then that he saw a piece of cloth stuck on the bushes. He leant forward and plucked it off the leaves, fingering it carefully. A look of disgust replaced the confusion on his countenance. A piece of thick black cloth – with a silky green underside.

"Ferret!" hissed Ron.

Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth.

She couldn't believe what she had seen. It was so…so terribly frightening…yet, yet…why?

She stepped back, stumbled a little.

Then she turned around and ran all the way back into the castle grounds.

Draco stumbled into his room, gasping, coughing discreetly. But the pain in his eyes was unmistakeable; his whole body throbbed with pain, and he could barely move any more. An attempt to sit on his bed ended up with a flat throw of his entire weight on the sheets. Thankfully, the Slytherin boys were sound sleepers, so they would not hear his groans and uncomfortable movements.

He straightened himself on the bed, then winced as another shock of pain ran through his usually-sturdy body. He coughed terrifically, feeling the blood rise up even to his nose, which was sore. He could feel his joints weakening…his limbs being covered by a sense of numbness…and all he could see above him were exploding coloured dots, and flashes of images…his face – or what was his projection of a face…

"Well, well…"

Draco made his way to the centre of the hallway, silent.

"Young Master Draco Malfoy."

At the side, a fuming Lucius Malfoy was pacing up and down. Was it worry in his eyes? Or was it all just a performance?

"So. How have you done?"

Draco glared at the floor, refusing to speak.

"Do not test my patience."

Pansy stared at him, longing to run over to hug him. Then she decided to be bold. "My Lord, he…"

"Silence!" The hooded figure turned around, a menacing expression dripping with contempt, causing Pansy to back away in terror. "I do not need a useless fool like you to interfere!"

Then he turned back to the quivering Draco, who was attempting to look strong despite the fear enshrouding his soul.

"Draco Malfoy. Report to me."

Draco finally lifted up his head. The Dark Lord saw the fear in his eyes…intertwined with a strong determined look. "I have failed."

There was a contemptuous snort. "You have failed? Did you try, my dear boy?"

"Please, My Lord, he is only but a – "

"A child?" The Dark Lord's tone tingled with spiteful amusement as he glared at the shaking Lucius Malfoy. "Was that what you told me, Lucius? Was that what you told me at the initiation ceremony? I doubt it, really. My memory has yet to fail me. This is the young man I put in charge of all my servants because I trusted he would give his best and that he was mature enough to understand my motives…and he has failed the first task!" Lord Voldemort laughed loudly and evilly as he turned to Draco, his tone now dripping with mockery. "And I thought that carrot head of a Weasley was your enemy…"

"My…My Lord." Draco swallowed hard to fight the bitterness that arose as he called the Dark Lord. "I just…cannot."

"FOOL!" Lord Voldemort's voice lost its sarcasm, and became bitterly outraged. "You are a scumbag! I trusted you and you have failed me miserably! You are nothing more than a coward!"

Then he strode up to Draco and forced him to look up by gripping his chin roughly. "You know what happens when my minions fail me?"

Draco looked defiantly at the figure. Was there a face? Yes. But was there a soul? He could hardly decipher. "They die."

The Dark Lord shook Draco off his grip and Draco fell to the floor. "I believe there is potential in you, Draco Malfoy. I don't like to be shown that my judgement fails me. On account of Lucius' work, as well as your supposed commitment and abilities, I will let you off the death hook. You will not give me a repeat of such an atrocious attitude!"

Draco bowed, but he could not speak up.

The Dark Lord raised his wand.

"But my Lord, you said…" Lucius tried to sound professional despite his growing fear.

"I said no death. I did not say no punishment. No minion escapes torture for his incompetence!"

And Draco stared at the wand tip pointed towards him.

"CRUCIO!"

Draco closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sharp currents of pain that electrocuted his nerves terribly. But when he closed his eyes, he would see the twisted expression on the figure's face…he would hear the cries of Lucius…he would hear the words of the Dark Lord…he would hear his own cries from being hit by the Cruciatus Curse…and most of all, he would hear Hermione's worries being spoken aloud in his tormented mind.