Disclaimer: The characters in this fic are solely based on the creative imagination of J.K.Rowling and I have really nothing to do with their sudden teenage angsting and whatsoever, really.

slytherin-kittycat: Sorry for taking so long to update...I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter - here comes more turmoil. Haha...

"Hermione, I think you should put your books away for at least now," insisted Ron, tugging at her robe sleeve. "Honestly, the sky is just AWESOME for a Quidditch game."

"If it's for Quidditch, all the more I won't go," muttered Hermione, her nose buried in her book, but her mind was elsewhere…thinking of…

"Ron's right," said Harry, firmly. "You shouldn't be cooping yourself in here and thinking weird things."

"What weird things?" asked Hermione, absent-mindedly.

Harry and Ron exchanged despairing looks, then Harry ventured to try again. "You know…like things about other people that you really shouldn't be thinking about…I mean…"

"What about being a bit more direct?" demanded Ron, suddenly. "How about someone furry, with a rather irritating nose poking into our affairs and ruining things and making a mess out of us and you in particular and has this really annoying tail that keeps…"

"How about being a bit more direct and just telling me to stop getting tangled up with Malfoy's affairs?" Hermione's tone was dangerous, her eyes still fixated on the moving pictures in her book.

"There you have it," announced Ron, straightening himself. "She knows it."

"But Hermione," said Harry, worriedly. "If you know it, why are you tormenting yourself? I mean. Look at your moods. One moment you're crying bitterly, one moment you're getting so mad with us…"

"Crying!" Ron's eyes bulged. "What the hell were you doing crying!"

"I thought it was always in you that girls cry a hell lot," said Hermione, coolly, but uncharacteristically nasty.

"Hermione," and Harry reached out to take the book out of her hands. Surprisingly she cooperated so well that Harry nearly dropped the book in the gentle way he was trying to retrieve it from her. Frowning, he took her hands and gently turned her towards the two of them. Her eyes were fixed at where her book originally was. "We need you to tell us what's going on between you and Malfoy. Or at least what's happening to you that concerns him."

"How about," paused Hermione. "What's happening to him that concerns me."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks again. This time, it was a more puzzled look.

"So?" pressed Ron, but Harry put his hand on his arm.

Hermione didn't talk for a long time, so the two boys just sat there, not very patiently, but trying their best to accommodate their best friend's emotions. Finally, she tilted her head up so that her eyes met them. Harry stared at them, and for the first time, he could feel a sense of helplessness radiating from them…it was not often that Hermione was at a loss for anything…she was all-knowing, she knew exactly what to do, what was the right thing to do, and yet, here she was, looking…

"I don't know what's happening to me," she said at last, looking away again, this time facing the common-room window. "I…"

"Hey pals!"

Lee Jordan's cheerful voice filled the quiet room as he sauntered in. Then he stared at the trio in the middle of the room. Harry and Ron looked annoyed, while Hermione just continued staring at the window.

"Hey where's everyone?"

"Probably walking around? It's damn good weather," said Ron, in a rather nasty manner, but Harry gave him a warning look. "You might want to go join them."

"Then why aren't you guys? Not like you to sit here and listen to Miss Granger tell stories or somethin'. Thought you'll be up in the air having a good game of Quidditch," remarked Lee, casually. Ron nearly said "duh" but Harry butted in calmly. "We're having some light banter here."

"Light eh?" Lee could already sense the tension in the room. "Say I'll give you light. Guess what I heard along the corridor."

"What? Neville got himself tangled up in some bush?"

"How about nothing to do with us Gryffindors for once?" grinned Lee. "It's them Slytherins."

Hermione gave a slight jerk, while Ron's face twitched.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, calmly.

"Two year threes huddling together, thinking they were having some private conversation. Heard them saying how it was a major whammy that Malfoy got himself all bruised and crazed up in the room – stuck in the dormitory and won't come out 'cos he's black and blue all over."

"Black and blue!" Ron gasped, disbelievingly, but Hermione's hands gripped the chair as her eyes continued to face the window.

"Yeah," said Lee, enjoying himself thoroughly, oblivious to Hermione's pain. "Completely whacked up. Think it's time he got some payback, seriously. But it's real queer. Like he just went out in the night and came back like some injured dog or something. I'll bet a Galleon he'll be up and about sooner or later, Malfoy's one tough nut, but I think he ought to taste some of his own medicine – or whatever that saying is."

Harry eyed Hermione, whose face seemed to be contorted with despair. "I think…maybe we would like to have some erm private time together, yeah?"

"Fine with me," mumbled Lee. "Take care man. All those gloomy faces."

And he left.

The boys turned to Hermione.

"This sounds serious, Hermione," whispered Harry. "You have to tell us!"

"You don't always have to act the hero, Harry, sometimes things are beyond your control…" the whisper issuing from Hermione's lips was so faint, so weak.

"Hermione, this is not acting the hero!" Ron pleaded. "You're getting yourself all sick and Malfoy isn't any better!"

"What happens…" she whispered, face towards the sunlight flooding in through the window. "When you can hear other people's thoughts…in your head?"

Ron gasped. Harry looked grim. "You can hear Malfoy's thoughts?"

"What happens if…" she looked dreamy, yet haggard. "If you can even feel it in your heart? Like when the person cries?"

"Hermione…"

"What if you are able to know what will happen next! To him!" Hermione was getting agitated, her eyes glistening with tears. "Knowing what dreadful thing will occur and make him feel pain which I feel inside too! What if you are able to know all these but you can't even help!"

"Oh god…"

"Hermione!" Harry whispered fiercely. "What is it that you know about Draco Malfoy!"

"I…I can't tell…" she sank back into the chair, hands reaching out for her face before gripping her cheeks. "I…I really can't…"

"But what's wrong – I mean how can Hermione know all these!" Ron looked bewildered. "Blimey it's no joke! Hearing other people's…"

"Hermione, why haven't you told Dumbledore!" Harry shook her urgently. The tears just came rolling down her cheeks faster, as she shook her head stubbornly. "I can't! I can't!"

"Why not?"

"You know Draco…he's…he's become a Death Eater?"

"Yes Hermione, you told us that. But Dumbledore isn't even flinching at that, why are you so worried to tell him?"

"Because if he knew…if…if he knew what Draco was…is…going to be made to do…at every stage…he would…he would expel him!"

"Oh heavens this is not the time to worry about expulsion of that ferret!" Ron argued, but Harry interjected. "What is Malfoy made to do?"

Suddenly, Hermione went all rigid. Her eyes turned glassy, and the two boys, startled, backed away a little. She gripped the chair so tightly her veins seem to protrude from her fists. It hurts, it hurts…I can't do this…why are they making me do this! If…if I can't get the Weasel…then I must find someone easier. Someone easier…the girl? But no…she's good friends, good…friends with…her.

Her? Hermione strained a little. Who's her?

I can't find the elder ones around. Deal them a blow. No. I can't. Hell.

Hermione bit her lip, ignoring the presence of the bewildered Harry and Ron. What if…

Draco…Draco, can you hear me?

There was no sound. Hermione tried again.

Draco! Can you hear me!

Suddenly, an explosion of noise burst out in her head. She gripped her skull hard till her knuckles turned white. Harry rushed forward, but she put out her hand to stop him. He retreated, looking completely dazed.

What the hell!

Draco, I know you can hear me.

So it's the Mudblood. Shut up. I don't need your advice.

Draco, stop being egoistic at this point in time. You're hurting my head with that sneer.

Then don't bother, Granger.

Draco Malfoy. I know you have a task.

I don't need your help! The desperate note in his voice was evident, but he tried to conceal it with his rage and spite. I don't need your pity. Stop thinking you're so damn smart, you know everything about me. I'm telling you, you DON'T.

Hermione's tears had not stopped rolling down her cheeks.

Please, Draco…

Since when were we on a first name basis, Granger?

Don't do it, Draco. Don't.

Do what!

Hermione looked at Ron, who was completely clueless as to why she was suddenly staring at him. Hurt the Weasleys. Don't.

Draco Malfoy sat on his bed, wincing as the voice throbbed in his head. Don't. It compounded the pain that was engulfing his body every second with every slight movement he made. Of course he knew Hermione would have said that. He didn't want to either. As much as Draco would love to be sly and cruel and scheming, he knew better than to overstep the line. He couldn't deal them a blow at all. He could cause Weasley's exams to screw up or something, but that wouldn't be big enough a blow. He knew very well the Dark Lord wanted the blow to be a death. And he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Shut up, Granger. When did I say I was going to!

I know Draco. I know he asked you to kill them.

He didn't. Don't act smart.

He implied it. Please Draco, don't do it…I beg you. Ron hasn't done anything wrong!

Draco gritted his teeth as another wave of excruciating pain rippled through his body. "Why the hell didn't you give me a better task to do! Why the hell did you make me do your dirty jobs!" He whispered fiercely as he gripped the bedsheets. "Why the hell am I your slave, your minion!" He closed his eyes. "I don't want to serve you!"

"What a pity, really," said a voice behind him.

Draco spun around, this time ignoring the pain that shot up in his elbow as he did. He stared in disgust at the figure standing in the doorway. "Pansy Parkinson. Who gave you the permission to enter!"

"Nobody," she said, airily, arms folded. "I came to see how you were doing. Just heard a bit of what you said though…"

"Shut up Parkinson, I don't need your…" He trailed off, thinking how familiar that sentence sounded. Yet "advice" didn't sound anything like what Pansy was giving right now. "Just get out, will you. I need some peace."

"I can offer you an easier way out," whispered Pansy, batting her eyelids.

Something in Draco stirred, but he didn't flinch.

"I can assure you the Dark Lord will be pleased, even if it is not accomplishing your task outright…" she smiled. "I know you don't want to murder – not in this compound where you wish to remain an anonymous Death Eater."

Draco tried to remain calm, but his heart skipped a beat.

"Draco…" Pansy put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged her hand off.

"I can do it for you."

Draco jerked, then suddenly retreated to the other end of the bed. "What the hell are you talking about, Parkinson?"

"I said, I can help you do it," she smiled, twirling her hair around her fingers. "But only this one time. In fact, I can make the Weasleys fall into a deeper abyss of pain that they could ever imagine…"

It was…tempting to accept her offer. He wouldn't have to kill then. It would…all be Pansy's fault.

Draco lowered his head, wincing a little at the pain in his neck where a big purple bruise was.

"It's always the first task that is the hardest. Subsequently, you'll find it easier…and perhaps, more enjoyable to finish up the rest…"

Silence.

"I suppose…" Pansy looked at Draco, with a glint in her eye. "Silence means consent?"

What are you thinking now, Draco? Are you still thinking of doing the wrong thing?

Shut up Granger! Stop preaching to me!

"Draco?"

"Girls are a useless bunch of meddlesome fools!" Draco yelled suddenly, glaring pointedly at Pansy before he stormed out of his room, ignoring the pain shooting up in his limbs, leaving a rather bewildered Pansy behind.

The bewilderment on Pansy's face soon melded into that of disgust.

"He's a coward. Oh yes, he's a coward. You made me do it, Draco…you made me do it…"