Chapter II- Secret Love Song:

Her eyes glued to the Advanced Arithmancy book in her arms, Hermione walked down the train corridor without seeing where she was going, or the hand that darted out of an empty compartment and pulled her inside. "Get off of me!" She shrieked in horror.

"Not likely," the familiar smooth voice dripped with arrogance. "I haven't touched you for sixty-two days." A smirk tugged at her lip and she spun around in his grip, their lips crashing into each other's at the same moment. They clung onto each other like shipwrecked sailors, thirsty, hungry, desperate. She could feel the heat building all over her body and she succumbed to him as he pulled her back onto the seat, laying her out along it and covering her with his body. When his hands started to creep lower though, she pushed them away, not ready for that yet. He got the message and with a contented sigh they settled onto the seat together, his arm around her. He pressed one last quick kiss to her lips and then asked, "So how was your summer?"

"Dull," she looked up to him, touching his hair casually. "So… I was thinking we could maybe…" she averted her eyes from his. "Tell-Harry-and-Ron-about-us?" The words ran together and ended up sounding less confident than she'd been aiming for, but she knew he'd heard them when she glanced back at him nervously and saw the dark edge to them. He was closing off again.

"Why? It's not like we're getting married, this is just a bit of fun."

"Just a bit of fun?" She couldn't stop the hurt tone from seeping into her voice, despite the fact that she really didn't want to sound like a clingy girlfriend, but they had been 'dating' for half a year, ever since the Yule Ball where they'd shared a masquerade dance and learnt they had more in common than they'd ever thought possible. She used the word 'dating' tentatively though, since they'd never actually been on one of these elusive 'dates'. Their romance had centred around stolen moments in cupboards and midnight rendezvous. And while that was all well and good, she wanted something more... concrete. She'd thought he had too. Evidently not.

"Oh you know that's not what I meant."

Pushing him off of her, she glared down at him. "I think it's exactly what you meant."

"Oh come on. Hermione!" She ignored his calls and the loud huff of frustration as she left the compartment, making sure to slam the door behind her as she wiped away the droplets beginning to trickle from her eyes.


Hermione had managed to avoid Draco like the plague for two whole weeks. He'd tried to catch her eye multiple times but it wasn't like they could sit together, since he was so against the idea of their relationship ever being public knowledge, and she made sure to stick by Harry and Ron as much as she could so that he wouldn't approach her even when the halls were empty. It was when Ron fell ill that a problem arose.

She had to patrol the corridors alone and, of course, Draco being the sly snake that he was, knew about this even before her.

She'd actually thought she'd gotten away with it, but curiosity killed the cat, and it did her too. She couldn't stop herself from peering into the classroom on the second floor that had been their meeting place last year- and the door shut behind her. "Remember all the fun times we've had in here..." Draco whispered against her ear. She pushed him away and tried to leave but he grabbed onto her wrist. "Don't go." The sincerity in his voice was a shift, enough to make her pause. "I know I was a dick, but the truth is I don't want Weaselbee and Boy Wonder to be the first ones to know about us." Normally she would have chastised him for name-calling but she was intrigued as to where this was going. "I'm afraid... that once the school starts to work it out word will spread and it'll get back to my parents." She could imagine that being a problem; her family was going to be bad, but she was pretty sure the aftermath when they told his would be apocalyptic. "I want to tell them first."

She did a double take, her eyes widening. "What? Draco, are you sure that's the best thing to do?"

"No," he chuckled drolly. "But it's the right thing to do. I spoke without thinking before, but now I've had time to do that I've realised the truth. I do want something serious with you, and this is the only way forward," her face broke into a smile of unadulterated joy and she kissed him passionately on the lips. "Even if I do end up homeless, out of my inheritance and disowned," he added breathlessly when they broke apart and she slapped his arm, giggling as she did so.


She wasn't giggling a few weeks later as she glanced around the crowded restaurant ceaselessly for the faces she'd only ever briefly glimpsed at the train station and seen beaming and posed in newspapers. Her stomach was hurtling like she was doing a loop-the-loop. At least she probably wouldn't have to eat anything since someone would surely throw a curse before the pre-dinner drinks even commenced. Draco put a hand on her knee to calm her case of restless leg syndrome and her head snapped to him. "Don't worry babe, it'll be-" she raised an eyebrow, daring him to patronise her. Wisely he chose not to. Taking a long exhale she channelled the relaxation her mother seemed to find in yoga. They'd decided to come meet his parents as soon as possible, and Draco had advised somewhere public like Hogsmede so they couldn't make a scene, but without their classmates. This had been his decision. She'd never been anywhere this nice. Not that she'd been to many restaurants at all. Apparently this was Mrs Malfoy's favourite, she was stunned to learn since she never thought they'd be caught dead in a muggle establishment. Were there many wizarding restaurants around though?

"Draco darling!" The voice dripping with adoration slammed her back into this unrealistic reality and she looked up to see that Draco was being kissed on each cheek by his mother. His father was just behind her and saw Hermione at the same time his wife did. Both of them paused in front of their chairs and focused on her, bewildered. Well at least it was confusion that she was with their son rather than anger. "Do... have we met?" Narcissa Malfoy's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"You might have seen Hermione in the Daily Prophet," Draco suggested gingerly, finding her hand and giving it a little squeeze as he sat back down.

His parents followed suite, Mrs Malfoy shaking her head. "That can't be it. You know I don't read such derisory drabble-"

"Hermione, you said it was?" Mr Malfoy was still looking at her as though she were a puzzle piece he couldn't slot into its space.

"Hermione Potter." She held her head high, determined they wouldn't see her flinch. And indeed, it was them that flinched. The two of them shared a look of silent communication and she shifted uncomfortably, not liking the fact that she had no idea what they were thinking. "And I'm dating your son." She laced her fingers through Draco's and lifted them up as proof.

Mrs Malfoy's eyes grew as large as her salad plate. "This is serious?" Her husband asked. They both nodded, exchanging small smiles of encouragement. This was going a lot better than she'd hoped, albeit somewhat weirdly. "It can't be..." he whispered under his breath. Now it was Hermione's turn to look confused.

"It's not possible," the woman beside him agreed, but with more conviction. She was speaking to Draco rather than to herself. "You were magically betrothed to another witch from your birth, who we lost contact with. You shouldn't even be able to touch another in a romantic way," she gestured to their linked hands. "Without feeling like your skin was being burnt away." Pleasant. The things these traditional Pure-bloods did to their children continued to astound Hermione. "Unless she was dead."

"Then she must be dead," Hermione reasoned, a perfectly logical explanation if she did say so herself. And the only one that fit.

Draco's parents shared another look and then his father looked to them. "We need you both to come back to Malfoy Manor."

Her boyfriend raised an eyebrow and she frowned as well. "Why?"

"We need to check something." Mr Malfoy explained. "A scroll. If what you think is true it should have shredded itself." She shifted uncomfortably. For all she knew this could be a trick to drag her to their home, lock her up in a dungeon and Crucio her for tainting their son's reputation by being linked to a blood traitor.

Looking to Draco for support, she saw he was studying his parents' faces. "Humour them," he begged at last in a whisper. "Maybe once they see the scroll's gone they'll accept the truth and we can actually move forward."


And that was how she found herself shifting uncomfortably in a decadent room Draco said was his father's office, in an area of the house he apparently had never visited before. Mr Malfoy seemed to have a lot of mysterious documents as it took him a while, but finally he produced a completely undamaged scroll, looking first to his wife, then to Hermione. Mrs Malfoy took her hand and began to pull her out of the room, saying something about how she had to show her something.

Draco wasn't having it though, he snatched her other hand, pulling her back in a tug of war with his mother. "That's enough!" He shouted. "Hermione may be a Potter, but she doesn't have to prove herself to you with some disturbed-"

"She may not be who you think she is," his father fixed his eyes on her and she shivered under the scrutiny. What was that supposed to mean?

"Please," begged Mrs Malfoy. The genuine tone in her voice gave Hermione pause and after a moment she gave a sharp nod and relented, shaking both Malfoys off and voluntarily following the older woman.

The room at the end of the hallway had an intricate yet unremarkable carving compared to all the other similar ones, and yet she felt a strange... energy coming from it. It seemed untouched, sacred, haunted. The hand on the doorknob hesitated before twisting it. Trying to peer inside without obviously craning her neck, Hermione felt overcome with curiosity. And it was a curious room indeed. Pitch black, due to the drawn curtains, made of a material that was thick enough to block out the sun on this unseasonably bright October afternoon. Thanks to the light from behind her she could make out the sparing furniture. A bed was the centrepiece of the room, adorned with an invalid, covered in duvets. She took an unconscious step forward as if being pulled by a string and heard a sharp intake of breath in the otherwise silent room. She wasn't sure who it had come from, but Draco's parents nodded her forwards. When she was beside the bed she'd thought she would be able to make out a body as opposed to a shapeless mass, but all that became clearer was the alien looking creature. Intrigued, she took one more step forward so that she was a mere foot away, her hand dangling by her side. A scaly, hand-like structure suddenly flailed out and clutched onto her own, evoking a shocked gasp. It felt like she was receiving the Kiss from a dementor- a soul-stealing feeling unlike any other. Looking at the figure, her eyes widened as before her it began to take a more humanoid image, being sculpted and shaped. Its eyes flew open and they were glinting red pools of blood. Released, she stumbled back into Draco's stunned arms, which he wrapped around her protectively, his eyes as stunned and terrified as hers. "Wha-" her voice came out rushed and panicked sounding, as if she were about to collapse. "Who are you?"

He smiled and it sent chills down her spine. "Your father."

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