Author's note: First I'd like to apologise for the lateness of this chapter! I've been really busy with work, and also i was really unhappy with some parts of this chapter. I'm still not 100% content, but it's necessary for it to be like this, in order for the story to progress. Anyway, I'd like to just thank everybody for reading and reviewing the last chapter - I'm grateful, as always! I hope you enjoy this one, please read and review. :)
"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,"
Monday 13th April, 1998
Draco didn't see anything of Granger or the others for the rest of the day. Like them, he had locked himself in his room and had resolved not to leave for anything. Molly Weasley was given the unfortunate task of coaxing them all from their rooms for dinner, which Draco had reluctantly agreed to do. Sat around the table with them, Draco could barely keep his anger in. Potter kept his fury-filled green eyes fixed on Granger, whilst she picked half-heartedly at her casserole, as Weasley stabbed his potatoes as though he imagined them to be Draco's head. Mrs Weasley seemed to be aware that something untoward had happened, and it irritated Draco that she exchanged several anxious looks with her husband. After fifteen minutes of eating in silence, Potter spoke. He threw his fork on the table with a violent cry, and brought his fists down with a thump.
"Harry!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, her eyes wide with worry. "Whatever is the matter?"
"Him." Potter spat. "I don't know how you can stand to have him sat at the table." Molly let out a weary sigh.
"Mr Malfoy is doing nobody any harm! I'd hoped you and Ron would have become used to him being here by now."
"Well I haven't." Harry stated. "I want him to leave – he isn't welcome here anymore."
Draco remained sat down, watching impassively as the others around the table reacted. Weasley nodded furiously in agreement, as his mother looked ashamed and embarrassed; it seemed that Mr Weasley was not too certain how to react. Granger, however, was a completely different matter. She leapt to her feet, knocking the chair backwards with a clatter, and had pointed her wand at Potter's forehead.
"How dare you?" She demanded. "You leave without a word of notice, insult me dozens of time through letters, and then return here as if you're in control and tell him that he has to leave? Who on earth do you think you are?"
"I own this house." Potter said calmly. "I'm in charge now that Dumbledore is dead, and I have something important to do. It isn't my problem that you have your priorities mixed up."
"Yeah!" Weasley added, standing up too. "We can't all stay at home snogging former Death Eaters who tried to kill a man!" Granger flushed scarlet, letting her arm drop helplessly by her side. She looked around the room, as though seeking an ally who would stand up for her. Draco should have done it, he knew. He should have stood up and shot them all down with his words – he knew he was capable of it, but for some reason he didn't want to. Granger bit her lip in a bid to stop the tears from flooding.
"You don't know anything." She hissed quietly. "You haven't made any attempt to get to know him. Yes he did things wrong, but everyone makes mistakes!"
"Not everyone makes mistakes which should land them in Azkaban." Granger laughed.
"We've done illegal things too, Harry!"
"He's evil, Hermione." Weasley stated. "Pure and utter evil. Everything from his parents, his name and even his house say that he is."
"He isn't." Granger retorted. "Things he's said to me…they couldn't have been said by someone evil." Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat; things were becoming too personal, too close to home for him. Weasley snorted.
"A clever plot to make you like him! I can't believe that someone as smart as you can't see that! You're a fool Hermione Granger. He's going to take whatever opportunity he can, to give you over to his father. You'll regret it when you're lying there, bound and gagged in the Malfoy cellar. You mark my words."
Granger shook her head, the tears now clearly rolling down her cheeks. She opened her mouth, as though to say something, but snapped it quickly shut and left the room. Draco felt a shiver run up his spine as he heard her burst into tears and run up the stairs. Clearing his throat, Draco stood to his feet. He looked at Mrs Weasley and smiled honestly.
"Thank you for dinner, Mrs Weasley." She nodded at him, smiling weakly. The smile fading from his face, he turned to look at Potter and Weasley. "If you wanted to keep her as a friend, gentlemen, you have gone quite the wrong way about it. You are lucky that she has taught me self-restraint, because if she hadn't…" He raised an eyebrow. "Let us just say I know some very interesting curses. Good evening and…thanks again for dinner Mrs Weasley."
Tuesday 14th April, 1998
The whole day passed again without Draco meeting Granger, Weasley or Potter. He didn't even bother heading to the library, knowing well that she would not be there. Sighing, he had decided to sort through the things that he had brought with him; he needed something to distract him, to keep his mind from thoughts of Grander. The sack had remained stuffed under the bed, gathering dust, for the whole time that he had been there. He had been given clothes by Mrs Weasley, as the only clothing he had brought were his Death Eater robes, some plain black trousers and his old school uniform – so the bag had remained completely untouched. Snape had shoved some things into the bag before they had left – old books, quills and parchment, a tin of shortbread biscuits, and a curious leather pouch that Draco had never seen before. Tentatively, he opened it and turned the pouch upside down. A small badge, no bigger than a fifty pence piece, tumbled into the palm of his hand; he turned it over and it read "Prefect" in silver letters on a green background. He had seen a badge like this before, of course, as he had received one only a few years ago. Draco presumed that it was his, that Snape had salvaged it and sent it with him as a keep-sake. Squeezing it for a moment, Draco let out a sigh of regret, before tossing it into the drawers by the side of his bed.
It was dark outside by the time had ha found a home for the rest of the rubbish in his sack. Most of it went in the bin, but he had kept the tin of biscuits in case he ever got another pang of hunger during the night – last time he had heard something he shouldn't have. Feeling a wave of fatigue, he led on his bed with his arms behind his head. There was an old, faded poster of the Holyhead Harpies stuck on the ceiling, and the witches waved and winked at him flirtatiously. He smirked at them foppishly, causing them to giggle and whisper amongst themselves; the giggles soon turned to cries of indignation when he threw a scrunched up ball of parchment at them. He laughed bitterly.
Draco was suddenly disrupted from his teasing, when a knock came at his bedroom door. Sighing, he padded over to the door and opened it to reveal Granger. Her hair was scraped back in a bun, and her eyes were puffy and red – she had obviously been crying. Draco swallowed.
"Good evening." He said, to which she sniffed.
"Good evening. May I come in?" Draco nodded tersely, before going back into the room. He sat down on the bed and watched her, as she hovered nervously in the doorway. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around today. I've been…upset."
"Understandable." Draco whispered. "Your friends weren't very nice to you." She laughed resentfully, and came and joined him on the bed.
"I think you once said that I couldn't really call them my friends. You were right." Uncharacteristically, Draco reached out and took her hand.
"I'm sorry." She shrugged.
"They're assholes. I just don't know why they can't accept that you're my friend." Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Friend? To be truthful, love, we didn't seem much like friends when those idiots returned." Granger's eyes widened, and he suddenly realised what he had said. Fighting the urge to throw her from his room, he trained his eyes on the bed and let out a sigh. "I didn't mean – "
Before he could say anything else, she was kissing him again. He thought briefly about arguing, but nothing could induce him to. Her lips on his seemed to cut off all of his thoughts – all he could concentrate on was her. Still maintaining the contact, he moved onto his knees and she followed suit. Every inch of his body seemed to be pressed against hers, and every single complaint that had ever entered his head appeared to have left it again. Eventually she sighed, and rested her head in the crook of his neck.
"I have wanted to kiss you all day, but I couldn't bring myself to…I thought you would be angry." He sat back, leaning against his pillows. She remained knelt up, looking down at him with a small anxious smile on her face.
"I am not angry at you, but only at them." He thought for a moment. "Do you still think they would be willing to send us abroad?" Granger bit her lip.
"I would like to say yes, but I doubt it; Harry wouldn't let me go, he'd find a way to stop me." She looked nervously around the room. "Besides…I need to be here now he's back." Draco shook his head in disbelief.
"I cannot believe you. I thought you would hate him after what he said to you – he called you a fool."
"I could never hate Harry…or Ron! They're my closest friends; they're like brothers to me. And whilst they want, no need, my help I'll stay. I'm sorry Malfoy, but I need to help Harry win this war. Maybe afterwards…well, maybe we could go abroad together then? On a holiday, or…?" Draco shook his head again.
"I won't live to see the end of this war Granger. You know that as well as I do. Now if you don't mind…I would like to go to sleep." She stood up, wringing her hands together.
"You're angry at me now, aren't you?"
"No. I would just like to be alone. Please leave."
Wednesday 15th April, 1998 (12:00pm)
It was lunch time and, instead of being in the kitchen as usual, the whole of Grimmauld Place were gathered outside Draco Malfoy's bedroom door. Molly Weasley had her ear pressed tentatively against the door, as she regularly shushed the others. Granger stood just behind her, still wearing her dressing gown and pyjamas, and chewing at her lip nervously. She had woken up feeling guilty for the night before, and in a bid to make amends had gone to his room. After knocking and calling his name for fifteen minutes, she received no answer and went to get Molly to help her. An hour later, the other members of the house were still skirting around the idea of simply going into his room uninvited.
"Mr Malfoy! Mr Malfoy, are you alright?"
"I think we can safely say he isn't." Granger snapped. "This is ridiculous! Can't we just go in? I'm…I'm worried." Molly looked at Lupin, who stood in front of Potter and Weasley as though trying to stop them from getting closer.
"I think we should let Hermione go in, Molly. If he's just ignoring us then there's no harm done, is there? But if there's something else going on…we need to know." Molly sighed and moved out of the way, letting Granger step closer to the door. She held her wand out in front of her and it wobbled, showing everyone how terribly her hands were shaking. Letting out a sigh, she turned the brass handle and pushed open the door.
The curtains were shut, the lights switched off, and Granger could clearly see Draco's form on the bed. He appeared to be lying on his back, above the covers, with one hand behind his head and the other loosely resting by his side. She approached his bed slowly and gently shook him, stepping back quickly as soon as contact had been made.
"Ma…Draco it's Hermione. Are you alright?" There was no response. He simply stayed still, his eyes focused glassily on the ceiling. Gulping, Granger leant down to check he was breathing – he was.
"Is he dead?" Molly shrieked from the corridor, causing Hermione to jump.
"No! He's just…he looks as though he's Petrified but I can't detect any spells on him." Slowly, she went and knelt by the side of the bed. As she did she spotted that he was clutching something in his hand, and cautiously she tried to open his fist to find out what it was. As soon as her fingertips brushed the object, Draco sat bolt upright in his bed. She fell backwards from the shock, as he slowly turned his head to look at her.
"Mudblood bitch." He spat; his voice seemed laced with poison. "Daughter of a filthy muggle whore." Hermione, pale-faced and stunned, gaped up at him.
"Draco I said I was sorry…I just don't think…"
"I'm surprised you can think at all; in fact, I'm shocked that your head hasn't caved in from the weight of your overly bushy hair. Silly mudblood." Hermione scrambled to her feet, before rushing over and shutting the bedroom door.
"I don't know why you're saying these things to me, but I know you'll regret them." She said icily. "There's something not quite right about you…what is it?" "I'm telling you what I really think of you. Your stupid friends were right – I am planning to give you over to my father. All those things I've said, those kisses…they meant nothing. You're still a silly, ugly, mudblood bitch."
Granger narrowed her eyes as Draco began to stand up. He looked unstable on his feet, his eyes were still glazed and glassy, and his voice seemed distant and odd. As he moved towards her, stumbling and swaying helplessly, the object he had had in his hand glinted in the slit of light that came through the curtains. She pointed her wand at it.
"Accio!" The object came flying towards her and landed in her hand. It was a Slytherin prefect badge, and it burned like fire in her palm.
"Give that to me." Draco said, coming to a stop. "Now."
"Why? What is it?" She demanded, squinting at it. "Why is it so important?"
"The most valuable possession I have." His voice was faltering now, becoming weaker by the second. "Worth my life….worth my soul…NO!" Draco's body jerked and he fell backwards onto the floor. "No! Get out of here Granger! Go! Worth your life…worth your soul…" Granger clutched the badge, hissing in pain; it was beginning to leave a mark, almost like a burn….but black.
"Worth your life? Worth your soul?" She muttered to herself, frowning.
Such an odd choice of words…such a peculiar little object. She stared at Draco, before looking back down at the badge. Worth your life…worth your soul…Suddenly it occurred to her. She looked down at the badge again, before tearing over to the door and ripping it open. They gaped at her helplessly, but Potter had noticed her hand.
"What's happening to you Hermione?" He yelled. "What is that?"
"I think it's a Horcrux!" Hermione cried. "Draco had it…I'm not sure how or why but he did! We need to destroy it Harry. Do you have…?"
"I have a Basilisk fang. Do you think that would help? I already used it on the other one, but…"
"Yes!" She cried back, yelping. "If you don't hurry I'll end up like Draco…he's spouting all sorts of nonsense. Just…be quick." Harry leapt up the stairs, and returned only moments later with the Basilisk fang. Hermione had fallen to the floor, and was being cradled by Molly as she cried with the pain.
"Let go of the badge, Hermione." Harry demanded.
"I can't! I can't let go of it! It's stuck to my hand! I…" Harry dug his nails beneath the badge and, with all of his power, yanked it from her hand. She screamed in pain; howling and writhing as Molly tried to calm her. There came a thump from inside the room, and it was clear that Draco had fell to the floor. "Remus, help him!"
Harry threw the badge on the floor and knelt beside it, as the werewolf rushed into the bedroom. He held the fang high above his head, before bringing it swiftly down to meet the badge. He pierced it once, twice, thrice, before black smoke began billowing from it. Hermione had stopped shaking, and it seemed that Remus was talking to Draco inside the room. Harry looked at her, his green eyes full of remorse and regret.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" He asked tenderly. Hermione nodded.
"Yes. Is Malfoy okay? I need to speak to him. I want to know where he got that from." Remus appeared from the room, sighing wearily.
"He's alright now. Worn out, naturally; he's sleeping."
"Does he remember how he got that thing?" Potter asked, glaring at it. "Where did it come from?"
"We'll ask him later, Harry. He is understandably very distressed at the moment. I think Hermione should go and lie down too. She wasn't as badly affected, but a few moments longer and she would have been in the same state."
"We'll take her upstairs." Harry said quietly, nodding at Ron. Ron bent down and scooped her up into his arms, before the trio ascended the stairs.
Wednesday 15th April, 1998 (10:00pm)
It had taken a lot of pleading to persuade Lupin to let him go. Draco, legs shaking, climbed the stairs to Granger's room with a feeling of dread. He wasn't certain how she would receive him now; was she angry, frightened upset? He wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to speak to him again. If Draco had known what was going to happen when he held that badge, he would have thrown it into the fire. He had so many questions about it – why had Snape given it to him, what was it, and what did it do to him? He had arrived at Granger's door, and knocked on it with trepidation growing in his stomach. Potter answered it, but instead of anger and harsh words his face remained impassive.
"I thought we'd be seeing you this evening. Come in."
Granger was sat on the bed. She looked happy and well, if not a little bit pale. Weasley nodded at him tersely, and motioned to a chair at the bottom of the bed. Draco sat down, shifting nervously in his chair. He had the feeling that this would not continue to be a pleasant meeting – he was certain it would soon develop into a full-blown interrogation.
"How are you feeling?" Granger asked eagerly, smiling at him.
"Much better, thank you."
"Good. I thought you were dead." She stated bluntly. "You looked dead. Then I spoke to you and…it was scary."
"I apologise. I had no idea it was going to happen, or I wouldn't have touched that thing." Potter came towards him and his held the palm of his hand out.
"Do you mean this?" The badge sat on Potter's pale hand, looking simple and harmless. Draco gulped.
"Yes. I brought the pouch which I found it in." Draco looked nervously at them. "Could you tell me what it is?"
"It's a Horcrux." Weasley spat. "Another one of those bloody Horcruxes."
"How many have we found now?" Granger asked. "I know we had three before you went away, this one makes four, so…"
"We found another one whilst we were away – Hufflepuff's cup."
"Would you mind if I asked what each of them are and where you found them?" Draco asked. Potter looked at Hermione, who nodded.
"Well, the first was the diary which your bastard father gave to my sister." Weasley spat.
"The second was a ring, which Dumbledore found at the Gaunts' house." Hermione added.
"Third was the locket, which Hermione showed you and we found in your father's basement." Potter scowled at Granger, who simply smiled.
"Then I found the fourth."
"Yes. And only you can tell us where it came from." Hermione said eagerly. "Why didn't you tell me you had it?"
"I didn't know. It was in the sack I brought with me…in a small leather pouch. I'd never seen it before, but I'm guessing that Snape gave it to me."
"It must have been Riddle's prefect badge." Potter said, sighing. "So we have two left…"
"Another mysterious object and…" Granger took a deep breath. "My research, and some conjecture from Malfoy, leads us to believe that Nagini is the final Horcrux."
"The snake?" Weasley demanded. "Isn't that a bid…stupid? It's a living thing – it could have got killed countless times. In fact, we saw it when we were in Russia. I could have killed that slimy bastard." Granger smiled.
"What are we going to do about the other unknown object?" She asked. "Look for it? I don't really know what I could be…I've thought of almost everything…"
"I guess we'll just have to wait for it to turn up again. This one did." Potter looked at Draco, his green eyes narrowed. "It looks like you're going to be far more useful than I thought you would be." Granger beamed. "But that doesn't mean I trust you."
