Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter

1997 - February 17

Hermione sat down on the bed, frozen still, eyes widening, a hand coming up to her mouth in shock. She could not believe this was happening. Yes, she was smart, but Harry was clever and rather lucky all on his own. For some reason she had caught the attention of the last man she wanted to; Voldemort himself. Hermione couldn't quite understand why she had been targeted. Harry had lots of friends, many people who he could count on. What was it that made her such a threat? Whatever the reason, he wanted her dead and he sent Malfoy to finish the job. As much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy had gone against his Slytherin attribute of self preservation and done something quite brave, and she did appreciate how hard that must have been for him. The decision couldn't have been an easy one.

Harry had been right that Malfoy was at least working for Voldemort. Was he a Death Eater? Hermione still wasn't completely positive, but she did know that he wasn't evil. Even though he hated her and thought that she was below him, he had spared her, putting himself in danger in the process. That did not sound like Draco Malfoy at all, but still, Hermione couldn't picture him as a killer.

Now, Malfoy's life was in danger because he had chosen to protect her. As cruel as he had been to her in the past, Hermione didn't want him to be tortured or killed, so she would help in whatever way she could. But could she really do this to Harry and Ron? Could she lead the world to believe she had been killed, knowing how much it would hurt the people she loved? Hermione knew that Malfoy didn't deserve to be punished for saving her, and justice was something she was passionate about. But he hated her. No, that shouldn't be a part of the deliberation process. Just because he hated her, doesn't mean he deserved the horrors that were to befall him if she didn't comply. He was a human being like, her, like her friends. Malfoy had a soul and a heart, and Hermione couldn't abandon him because he made some mistakes, no matter how grave those mistakes may be.

She bit her bottom lip, thinking, and looked towards the door. She had confidence that her friends would find her eventually if they kept looking, but she couldn't just leave Malfoy to face the consequences of having a conscience within a group of psychopaths. He had saved her life, and now, she owed him enough to save his.

Hermione looked to the window where the sunlight was streaming in, growing higher into the sky. Second period was probably about midway through and that meant people had undoubtedly already noticed her missing. If her absence had been noted and Malfoy was there with her, then had he been observed as absent as well? The plan to fake her death could become a problem for him if people also began to assume that he had been the one to murder her. Would Malfoy be able to go back to school until this was over? Even if Dumbledore didn't believe Malfoy was capable of such a horrible thing as murder, Harry and Ron surely would and there was a grave possibility of her friends seriously hurting him without Hermione keeping them under control. This was all such a mess!

Hermione stood up, hands fisted into balls at her side in a posture marking determination. Faking her death would be best for everyone. She concluded that the death eaters wouldn't be hunting her, her friends wouldn't fall into a trap trying to find her, Malfoy wouldn't be tortured or killed, it made sense. It would keep everyone safe. Well, except Malfoy from Harry and Ron, but the professors would prevent anything serious from happening, wouldn't they?

She walked over to the wardrobe and opened its vintage looking wooden doors, revealing several new and very expensive looking robes. This puzzled her. If Malfoy spared her in a split second decision, why would he be prepared with new women's robes? Hermione knew money was no barrier for Malfoy, but still, the number and designer quality of the robes baffled her.

With that thought of wealth came the realization that she had not seen a single house elf yet. Surely someone as rich as Draco Malfoy would have at least one. She couldn't imagine him doing anything for himself. Even so, the cabin seemed very small for a Malfoy property telling her that she should have at least spotted an elf. The food that he had brought for her crossed her mind. He had brought it to her himself. Did that mean he had also prepared it? Hermione looked over at the old, untouched food still sitting on the night table where Malfoy had left it and began to feel rather bad. Of course, at the time, he hadn't told her the full story. If he had, she might have realized the logic that if he hadn't killed her then, there was no reason for him to hurt her now. Hermione still questioned why Malfoy had made her food in the first place. Surely he didn't care about her enough for that.

Hermione sighed and began changing into one of the new robes. The material was soft against her skin and unlike anything she had ever worn before. It was probably worth more than she had in her entire vault! With one more deep breath, she headed back out of the room where she knew Malfoy was waiting for her.

"Let's get this over with," she said, handing him her old clothes.

Malfoy promptly charmed them into shreds that she could imagine the possibility of being torn apart by some sort of animal. He set them aside, and Hermione held out her hand to him, knowing what came next. This was the most trust she had ever put in Malfoy and she had to admit, it frightened her. Much more tenderly than she expected, he cupped her hand in his own, shocking her at its warmth and the comfort it seemed to bring. She looked up at him and found him staring down at her, a strange, almost softness in his eyes. She quickly retreated her eyes towards the ground, unsure of what was going on or what she should be feeling.

Hermione still had a headache and was feeling slightly dizzy, making her consider that this may not be the best idea. No, she had already decided that she was going to do this. It was best for everyone and they needed to do it now. She wasn't about to back down from this.

"Just do it," she whispered.

He pointed his wand at her hand and mumbled the spell. Hermione sucked in a breath, hissing in pain as a deep cut spread across her hand, blood pooling in her palm, the spell he used causing more to flow from the wound. Malfoy handed her back her clothes.

Suddenly, the light-headedness she had felt earlier began to grow steadily worse. There was quite a bit of blood that she was putting on the clothes to make it convincing, but she wasn't losing enough for that to be the only cause. She tried to think about what could be making her feel this way but it was getting increasingly difficult to focus on anything as the room began to spin. Was it food, or lack there of? She had been far too busy doing research the previous night and had foregone dinner due to losing track of time. Then this morning, she had brilliantly chosen not to eat the breakfast that Malfoy had made her. Even this small blood loss was making her feel extremely faint. Maybe it was simply the sight of the blood combined with all the other factors, she didn't know. All she was certain of was that she should probably be sitting down somewhere.

Then, she was falling. And Malfoy was calling her name, the sound growing farther away.

"Granger? Granger?!"

She felt arms come around her and then she was flying. Wait, maybe she was being carried. Her back hit something firm. No, it was soft. The bed.

"Hermione! Stay with me," he told her, sounding quite urgent.

He had called her Hermione. She liked that. Why did she like that? She found it strange that she would like him using her name. He was gone for a moment, but he returned again shortly.

"Drink this," he ordered, handing her something in a small bottle. Hermione felt so weak though, she didn't want to move her arm all the way up to get it and put it to her mouth. The whole process seemed so exhausting. Suddenly, she felt it being pushed to her lips and the disgusting taste of the liquid as its thick form made its way into her mouth. She was feeling very tired. Another bottle was pressed to her mouth and she drank that too, not having enough energy to think about what he was giving her or if it would poison her or not.

She was made to drink a third potion, this one clearing her head a bit and she was feeling a bit of strength returning. But her head was pounding more than ever and she was feeling slightly nauseous. Hermione looked at Malfoy, who was still beside her, surprised to see an expression of genuine concern across his face.

"I'll go get you some more food and some water," he said quietly, scooping up the untouched plate on his way out.

Since when did Malfoy care what happened to her? He already explained that the only reason he had spared her was because he couldn't bring himself to kill a classmate. His concern was probably only due to the effort he had already put in to save her. Perhaps he didn't want to waste his act of chivalry. She sat up, leaning her back against the head board of the bed, her fingers massaging her throbbing temples.

Hermione wondered if people had begun to be worried about her at school. Surely they'd noticed by now that she was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if her friends were searching the school for her or if they just sat down for lunch expecting her to come join them. Maybe they thought she had taken up her common ground at the library. She closed her eyes. Hermione missed her friends already and figured she was going to be in hiding for a while. Hermione couldn't see how she would be safe to leave until the war was completely over and who know how long that could take. The thought brought tears to her eyes. Voldemort had gotten his way anyways. She wasn't going to be able to be there for Harry through this as she had promised from the start. Would they ever forgive her? Surely they would. If Hermione didn't stay where she was, the Death Eaters would be specifically hunting her, and Malfoy had proven that she wasn't even safe at Hogwarts.

She had been so naïve to think that no one could be hurt by this war while they were inside the school. Sure, there was protection, but there was so much that the professors were unaware of. She had been kidnapped, and as far as anyone else would know, killed.

Then there was Malfoy. Sure he was a jerk but, he hadn't truly insulted her since they'd been alone. Now that she though of it, he hadn't called her a 'mudblood' in a while, even before all this began. Was he starting to question his prejudices?

Hermione couldn't think about this right now. It was much easier to know that he hated her because that made sense. It had always been that way. Even though it hurt sometimes, she was used to being treated like trash by him and his recent behaviour was a bit disconcerting. She couldn't believe that he was actually preparing food for her, and on his own no less. It just seemed so out of character. She shouldn't be complaining though. Hermione wouldn't rather the thought of being locked without food so she guessed this was alright.

The weight of everything that was happening weighed down on her. The fear of what was going to occur if they were found, the knowledge of what she was going to be putting her friends through, the fact that she was going to have to give up everything for the time being including seeing the people she loved, all for someone who hated her, was slightly overwhelming. As hard as she tried, she couldn't help the single tear that ran down her cheek. Maybe it was just the stress of this whole situation. Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn't let Malfoy return and see how much this was affecting her.

Draco was furious with himself. He should have known something like this would happen. He should have expected Hermione not to have eaten the breakfast he gave her and insisted that she eat something before they started any of this madness. What he really should have done was told her those small pieces of the story when he had first talked with her. All these terrible things happening to her continued to be his fault. He just kept hurting her, no matter how hard he tried to keep her safe. Draco had promised her that no one was going to hurt her, yet, he was the one who had done exactly that.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had been so worried when she collapsed. Draco had shown far too much emotion and even called her by her first name by accident! This was bad. Maybe she had been too out of it to notice anything.

He had carried her to the bed and rushed around the cabin trying to find anything that might help. He hadn't known exactly what was wrong, but he could guess. Had it been the blood? Had he taken too much? Was it the lack of food? When was the last time she ate? He didn't remember seeing her at dinner the previous night so it had probably been at least 24 hours since her last meal. What about water? He hadn't given her anything to drink. Was she dehydrated and that was the problem? Could it have been a side effect of the spell he had used to bring her there that night? Draco saw all of these possibilities as his fault and he had to fix it.

He made her a very simple lunch to save time, as well as to avoid any suspicion of his intentions. If he had made her anything too special, she would know that something was off. He poured her a large glass of water, grabbed the fresh plate of food, and carried it to Hermione's bedroom.

Upon entering the room, Draco noticed her watery eyes. Had she been crying? He hated to think of the emotional turmoil he was putting her through. Who knew how long it would be before she could see her friends and family again, plus, she had to stay there with him, a boy who she hated. Draco halted the strong desire growing within him to comfort her and placed the food and water on the night table beside the bed again.

"Actually eat it this time," he sneered and left the room without another glance back. He knew it was callous, but it was how it had to be to cover up for his mistakes earlier. Hopefully, she would understand what he was trying to tell her. He had to act like he didn't care.

Draco had a job to do. He scooped Hermione's bloody clothes off the kitchen table and disillusioned himself as he prepared to disapparate from the cabin back to the Forbidden Forest. He took a deep breath and turned on the spot.

The forest wasn't nearly as frightening in the day time, though it was still fairly dark from the cover of trees. How could he place the clothes so it would be convincing? He had to do this quickly as he didn't want to be caught holding bloody clothes by some hungry animal looking to devour him.

Draco spotted a hole leading down into a small cave in the base of a tree. Perfect. With the torn and bloody clothes, he made a sort of trail leading down into the cave as though some wild animal had ripped apart her body underground, and made drag marks with his feet. He sure hoped people would believe it for his sake and Hermione's.

He looked down the path that lead towards the castle. Should he be in class? That would probably be the smart thing to do. People might already suspect his involvement in Hermione's disappearance since he missed his first two periods and was nowhere to be found for the first part of the day, but perhaps Dumbledore would stand up for the fact that he wasn't a killer. Was it worth a try? If he didn't, it would be obvious that he was involved and he didn't want to be a hunted man.

With a flick of his wand, he cleaned himself of any blood and headed up to the school, still disillusioned as he exited the forest. How was he going to explain his absence? Could he use the excuse that he hadn't been feeling well in the morning? That explanation would work for everyone else, however, the Slytherins would be able to tell the lie. Though, if they recognized his probable involvement in the 'death' of Hermione Granger, most would give him high fives and congratulate him on his feat. It was disgusting what many of them thought of people like her, what he used to think of her.

Once he reached the castle, Draco ran to his room, grabbed his books, and rushed off to his third-period class, dreading the rest of the day.

He sat down at the back of the room beside Blaise in Transfigurations class, wondering if Potter or Weasley had told anyone of Hermione's absence. He could see them near the middle of the room looking around as if they expected her to walk in at any minute. Every once and a while they would whisper anxiously to one another and look around again. Had they even told the professors yet? Draco was becoming annoyed with them. What if she was being held somewhere, being tortured and they were just sitting around, doing nothing but being a little worried?

"Where were you this morning?" Blaise asked quietly.

"Wasn't feeling well," he responded mechanically.

"Ah, I see. Did you have a fun one last night?" Blaise questioned suggestively.

"Something like that," Draco replied.

"Who was she?" His friend's eyebrows bounced, waiting for a name so he could have a disgusting image in his mind.

McGonagall started the class, saving Draco from having to answer. There was no way he was going to get anything out of the class that day. It wasn't like he could concentrate what with everything that was going on. It didn't help that Potter and Weasley kept taking turns glaring at him as if they knew he had something to do with Hermione's disappearance.

His next class wasn't much better. The day went by in a haze where Draco couldn't get his head out of his thoughts long enough to focus on anything. He couldn't believe that no one was talking about Hermione's absence yet. She really needed to find some better friends. It wasn't as if she would ever miss a class unless something serious had happened.

Draco wanted so badly to be able to go back to Hermione at the cabin, but he was surrounded by people who had other priorities at the moment. Still, he searched for an opportunity to make his escape.

Draco knew it would be best to stay at the school or else even more people would suspect him, but the way he had left Hermione, he needed to check on her and make sure she was alright. He finally managed to squirm his way out of his Slytherin group and approached the forest again, glad to be away from people who wanted to know all about this girl who had made him miss two classes in the morning. That girl was Hermione, the one he had 'murdered'.

Author's Note:

Well, there's chapter 4! Thanks to all who read it! I apologize for anything that was a bit unrealistic, I tried to make it as real as possible but it needed to happen for plot reasons. I hope it was alright! I would love to hear any suggestions on how to improve if you have them, or just a few words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated as well. Thanks to negativecreep91 for the review on Chapter 3! I will be posting weekly but I have other chapters written so if I get enough reviews asking me to, I can post another earlier than that. Thanks again!