Disclaimer: Well, my sister and I broke a wishbone today. I wished for full rights to Harry Potter. Guess what? I didn't win.

Chapter 6: Define Impossible

It didn't take to long to locate Malfoy. He was standing at the base of the staircase, staring at the floor, face dark. He looked up at them as they walked down the stairs. "Done scheming for the day?" he sneered. When none of the three friends responded immediately, he rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Hey, uh, Malfoy," Harry said, reaching out to grab his shoulder. Malfoy stepped away sharply, evading his touch, turning to face them all and glare.

"Yeah, what?"

"Well, back in there, you said that you could help us," he started, "Were you telling the truth? Can you?"

"What, the goblin won't help?"

"Well, um, no."

Malfoy snorted, turning away again. "Glad to know I'm a last resort, then. How do I rank with you, anyway? After the foul little goblin, obviously. What else do you trust more than me? How about some idiotic giant?" He gave a dry laugh. "Or a vampire? A house elf? A werewolf?"

"Yeah." Harry said, glaring. "I know a werewolf who I would – "

"Oh, right. Our good halfbreed professor." He sneered. "It's good to know where I stand. With the flobberworms and other filth." He scowled and began to walk away.

"Malfoy, we're asking for your help!" Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. She was trying very hard to ignore his bigoted words, which still bounced around in her mind. Between his words, the stress she had been under, and the fitful sleep that she had not yet fully shaken off, she was getting irrate. She tried desperately to keep herself calm, if only in appearence. However, some of the fire behind her voice was doubtlessly fueled by her frustration. "Just listen, for heaven's sake! We need to know if you can get us into Gringotts!"

"I said I could help, didn't I?" Malfoy crossed his arms, back to them. "And I don't lie every other sentence. Like some," he paused briefly before spitting, "goblin."

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy!" Hermione cried, aggravated. "We trusted a goblin. They are intelligent beings with as much honor as any human! More than some!"

"Oh? Then why won't he help you? Don't have the gold to pay him?" Hermione tried to answer, but hesitated when he turned to face them, his face positively livid. "I offered you help." he continued bitingly. "Freely. But you didn't want it then, did you? Didn't need it? After all, I'm just some lousy git that – that gave up every– " He had to stop, furious. Hermione backed up instinctively.

Finally he found words again. "J-just some git that turned on his own family to save your sorry, ungrateful skins." He took a step closer to the three. "What does that really mean, anyway?" he hissed.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry – We didn't mean to seem..." Ron said defensively. "We only – "

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione spat. "Malfoy, we thank you for what you did. We understand your sacrifice. But that doesn't mean you get to know everything! Everyone has given up something! It's war! Get over yourself, you're no different from anyone else!"

"But I – I actually have something to offer! But it's not good enough, huh? It's better to beg help from a scheming goblin than except help that I offer?"

"Don't you think a goblin would know something about breaking into Gringotts? More than a pampered rich boy who thinks the world revolves around him?"

"Oh, that's original! Scathing! Rich boy, she said! Wouldn't a rich boy be able to get into a bank pretty easily? More easily than a goblin in freakin' exile?"

"Will you two please – " Harry tried to intervene.

"The trick isn't getting into the bank, it's getting into the Lestranges vault and then out of the bank!

"Hey! Shut up!" Harry said. "Do you want everyone in the house knowing our plans?" Hermione quieted immediately, face going red. Malfoy glared darkly, but fell silent as well.

"Malfoy, we need help." Harry said, evenly, but a little impatiently. "I still believe that Griphook would know more about the inner workings of Gringotts, but if you think that you could get us in and out... we need the help."

Malfoy sniffed and began bitterly, "Oh, now that you need my help, I suppose I'll be simply delighted to – "

"We don't have time for this, Malfoy, get over it now." He rubbed at his scar.

A pause followed. Hermione, still furious, watched Malfoy carefully. He looked outraged, glaring daggers at the three of them. Finally, after a very uncomfortable silence, he took a deep breath and muttered horsely, "Ask me later." Then, glaring at the floor, he turned around and walked out of the cottage, toward the ocean.

The three friends looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally Hermione broke the silence, to spit out, "The prat. The idiotic prat."

"You're the one who wanted to talk to him, Hermione." Ron reminded her. After a pause, he shook his head, saying, "Man, what got to him, anyway? I mean, we didn't really do anything that insulting. He just blew up! What's with that?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know," he said slowly, "I can sort of see..." He trailed off. "I don't think he likes being turned down when he offers something."

"Well, yeah," Ron said.

"Remember first year? On the train?"

Ron looked confused. "Yeah... he insulted my family and we met Crabbe and Goyle, who looked like apes at age eleven."

"He offered me friendship, which I refused..." Harry mused.

Hermione spoke again, muttering, "Which led to an entire school career of hatred and anger. We don't have time for this!"

"But you said we shouldn't go talk to Griphook again, so what do we do?" Ron asked.

Harry said levelly, "It's very early. He said to talk to him later, so we will. For now... I think that we're all tired. Go back to sleep, okay?"

Shortly afterwards, Hermione found herself heading back towards the small room where she had left Luna. She crawled back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin, and tried to sleep. She closed her eyes and waited, but her blood was still running too hot from her argument with Malfoy. Just the thought of him made her scowl. And his impossibly narrow views on the world, his refusal to trust anything that wasn't a wizard. How dare he condemn goblins and house elves and werewolves and – and whatever else he said, just because they're not exactly like him! She thought, furiously, clenching her fists. And it's ridiculous, him getting so angry over so little! She was about to add something, when a sobering question drifted through her mind. Is my anger any more justified?

She turned over on the bed, trying (though not really succeeding) to let some of the resentment go. It meant that when she finally did drift into a half-sleep, her thoughts were still on Malfoy.

In the Hogwarts corridor once more, weighted down with parchment and quills. "Are you alright?" She blurted to Malfoy, again seated on a bench.

"Huh?"

"Are – are you alright?" she repeated lamely. He looked up, not... angry, exactly. More nervous. But not quite that, either... it was odd. He picked at his left sleeve absently. He didn't say anything.

She turned to walk away, and almost jumped when he said, quietly, "Do I seem otherwise?" She spun sharply to look at him. He was staring at the floor, expression blank. Dull. In the poorly lit hallway, he seemed particularly pale, haggard.

"N-no..." She said.

He snorted but said nothing. She edged a little closer to him, examining his face. It was fascinating, in a very grim way. She had seen it often enough before, throughout her years at school. However, it had always been brimming with arrogance and contempt. Never had she seen it like this, completely blank and sunken, eyes glazed slightly.

He looked up sharply, causing her to flinch. "Anything else?" he sneered weakly.

"Nothing... just..." She swallowed. "Are you alright?"

His sneer twisted into a very dry smile. "I'm as 'alright' as anything, I suppose... but is anything alright anymore, really?" Then unexpectedly, he hung his head. Hermione stepped back, shocked... his shoulders shook, slightly.

She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than she could remember ever feeling before. She turned sharply, with every intention to walk away. However, glancing back, she couldn't stop herself from reaching back and brushing his hand with hers.

He flinched horribly at her touch. She could feel his eyes on her. She couldn't bring herself to meet them. She was afraid of what she knew she would find: confusion, surprise, disgust. Instead, she rushed away, leaving him sitting by himself. Alone in the dim stone hall.

She awoke with the images still at the front of her mind, the feel of his hand still on hers. Dry. Cool and dry.

This memory had replayed in her mind often since Dumbledore's death, more often now than ever before. She couldn't see why. Though the event was strange, nothing important had happened. Why had she touched him, though? The question had often troubled her. It was a natural enough gesture, sure, from a friend to a friend... but Malfoy had never been a friend to her. The idea was laughable. Wait, she realized, I was upset with him... angry, even... The whole morning seemed fuzzy to her. The dream, the memory, she supposed, was much more clear and made much more sense...

She pulled herself out of bed and left the room, feeing rested and calm. All anger toward Malfoy had dissipated in her sleep.

When she walked into the front of the cottage, Bill called out to her. "G'morning, Hermione! Sit down for breakfast."

"I'm really not very hungry..." She said, "Are Harry and Ron up yet?"

"Harry is, he's eating. I haven't seen Ron."

She walked to the table, where both Harry and Luna sat, eating oatmeal. She took a seat next to Harry. "Is Ron still asleep?" she asked.

Harry swallowed. "He was when I left." He shrugged. "We don't really need to rush. Let's give the Malfoy plenty of time to calm down, right?" He smiled. "You seem better. The sleep did you good?"

She smiled back. "It was... refreshing, I guess. Was I really bad?"

"You were pretty upset."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You had every right to be."

"Yeah... but it was still pretty hypocritical of me." Harry shrugged, and turned back to his oatmeal. Hermione sighed, and leaned back in her chair, thinking.

After a while, Ron stumbled his way into the room, eyes blurry with sleep. He sat down and dished himself a heaping bowl of oatmeal. "Should we go talk to Malfoy now?" Hermione asked, drumming her fingers on the table.

"We can wait." Harry said. Hermione sighed. At least Ron eats quickly, she thought.

"Feeling better, Hermione?" Ron asked between bites.

"Yeah. I'm good." She said, reddening a little. Had she been that irritable?

Luna had left, so the three of them sat in the room, not speaking. Ron ate heartily, Harry was looking distractedly around the room. His forehead was creased with worry. Hermione watched him as he fidgeted, sometimes drumming the table, sometimes fingering his scar.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" She asked quietly. Ron looked up, concerned as well.

"I'll tell you guys later..." he said.

"Why not now?" Ron asked. "We're all here, we're alone."

Harry frowned. "I suppose... well, I talked to Olivander this morning, after you two had gone back to sleep."

"Is he going to be making us new wands?" Ron asked.

"I don't know... he didn't really say, but he looks pretty ill. I actually asked him about the Elder Wand. He says it's real, and he told You-Know-Who about it. And now," he closed his eyes. "Now You-Know-Who has it. I saw him take it..." he trailed off.

"You-Know-Who has the Elder Wand?" Ron gawked. "The unbeatable wand..." He moaned, resting his head in his hands.

"Where was it?" Hermione whispered.

"Well, Gregorovitch had it, long ago. But then Grindelwald stole it... how he found out who had it, I don't know... but he had it when he rose to power. And then Dumbledore defeated him.

"Dumbledore had it?" Ron said, dumbfounded.

"Yes. And now You-Know-Who does. I saw him split Dumbledore's grave open and take the wand for himself."

The three of them fell silent, taking in this information.

Soon, however, the silence was broken. "There you all are. Thought you'd forgotten. I had to find you myself." They all looked up, to see Malfoy standing in the doorway, composure regained, smirk on his lips. "So... who wants a way into Gringotts?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione gasped needlessly. He shot her a quick, cold glare, before turning back to Harry.

"You seem... in a good mood." Harry said suspiciously. It was true. However, as Malfoy came closer, it became rather painfully evident that his attitude was forced. His face, which had at first seemed good natured, had an unpleasant twist to it, and his gaze housed a fragment of resentment.

He walked around the room casually. "I've given it a bit of thought, and I think I can get you right up to the vault door." He looked very pleased with himself.

"But not inside the vault?" Ron said, doubtful.

He shrugged. "Ah, that's just in the details." He crossed his arms. "Any idea of how I plan to do it?"

"Um, no. That's why we're asking for help, Malfoy." Ron said with a scowl.

"Oh, come on. Guesses?" He smirked, evidently loving being in control of the situation.

"Griphook said that it was impossible." Harry said slowly. "We have no idea."

"Impossible to break in and fight your way that deep into the bank? Yes, probably. But it is not impossible for me to stroll in and look at the Malfoys' vault. And it just so happens that the Lestranges' vault is right next to the Malfoys' vault." He brushed at his robes.

"Wait... that seems a bit convenient." Hermione said, frowning.

"Yes, of course it's convenient! That's why I think it'll work!" He gave her a hard look. She, at least, had not yet been forgiven. She sighed inwardly.

Ron spoke up. "No... it's too convenient, I think. I mean, your family's vault just happens to be right next to the Lestranges'?" he shook his head. "That... that is too much to believe."

Malfoy sighed. "Not really... I could take needless time and explain why that is, or you could just trust me..." His cockiness faltered a bit as he met the glares of all three of them. He suddenly seemed to remember his shaky standing. "Alright, then." he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. "Let's see... the Lestranges and the Malfoys, or rather, the Estrages and the Malfaits left France in the mid sixteenth century. They changed the names after arriving in Britain."

"Estranges? Malfaits?" Hermione almost laughed. "Those mean – "

"Yeah, I know." he glared at Hermione. "'Estrange' is French for 'weird', and 'mal fait' means 'badly made'. We were well loved by the people of the country, as you see. In those time, the muggles in France were rather... paranoid about magic. There were a lot of witch trials and all that. Naturally, they rarely ever tried someone who was actually magical, and even more rarely were able to kill them... but it got obnoxious, I guess. So the two families came to England."

"Together?"

"Well, they became friendly on the trip over. I think there might have been a marriage, but I don't really know." He shrugged. "Anyways, they did all of their papers at the same time, and that includes setting up vaults at Gringotts."

"Wait! That was in the sixteenth century? How old is that bank?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head. "Don't know. Old. The point is, the vaults are still together."

"Hmm." Harry looked thoughtful. "This might work... how would we," he gestured to himself and his two friends, "get in, though?"

"I'll explain... later. Right now I want to know... are you in? Is this actually going to happen?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who both shrugged. Then, after a puase, he smiled grimly. "Here goes nothing," he said, reaching out his hand to Malfoy.

"Sorry, I don't shake hands." Malfoy said dryly. Harry remembered Malfoy's refusal to make contact and pulled his hand back sharply.

"Can't you tell us why?" Hermione asked. "I think we've put up with this 'mysterious' thing long enough." Ron and Harry both looked to Malfoy expectantly.

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Is it really the time? We've got a bank robbery to plan."

Harry crossed his arms. "We have plenty of time for that. Later, like you said."

"Yes. I was planning on getting rest now."

"Were you? I doubt it. Why do you keep putting things like this off? What's wrong with telling us?"

"Yeah." Ron agreed. "You're hiding things, Malfoy, and it's not exactly comforting."

In a second, Malfoy's expression went from strained brightness to dark with irritation, with perhaps a flash of uncertainty between the two. "Fine." He snapped. He then spoke rapidly, almost venomously. "Remember back at the manor? When I decided to wait up? I overheard them talking about me. They said that if I was with you, then they had a way of tracking me. I didn't understand. They couldn't be talking about the taboo, you guys had figured that out." He smiled grimly. "Then someone said, 'the traitors don't need to press their marks to summon the Dark Lord. The mark remembers the betrayal, and'... um, I don't remember the words, exactly, but if I touch something that activates the mark, that reminds it of what I did, the Dark Lord will be able to locate me." While speaking, he never looked away from their eyes, glaring at each in their turn. "There. Happy? Feel fulfilled?" He scowled.

No... thought Hermione. It didn't really make sense to her. But Harry just nodded, said a quick, "Well, that wasn't too bad," and left. Ron followed.

"Why was it so hard to tell us?" Hermione asked. Malfoy had turned away, and he gave her no answer. "Why is it that you wouldn't let me touch you out in the woods... before you overheard those Death Eaters?"

"Don't know." He said horsely. "It just seemed wrong."

"But I don't think that's it," Hermione said, frowning, taking a few steps forward. I think you had a reason... I just can't figure out what it was."

"Could it be," he said flatly, "that I was scared? Or is the idea of fear so impossible to someone like you?"

"What's impossible?" she said lightly. "We were told it was impossible to break into a Gringotts vault. We're going to try to prove that wrong. It is supposedly impossible to survive the Avada Kedavra curse, and yet Harry's still here. I don't really take the word 'impossible' that seriously anymore. I don't know if anything's really impossible." He said nothing, just gave a soft grunt. "After all, I'm here, talking to you, and neither of us has hexed the other yet."

Malfoy turned his head toward her. "You don't have a wand." His face was blank, but something like amusement glinted in his eyes.

"No, I don't." Hermione answered, raising her empty hands, smiling. "Should I be afraid?"

"Naturally." He said. He gave her a smile, before sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"You do that a lot." Hermione noted.

"Huh?"

"Um, you touch your hair..."

"Oh. Yeah... I guess." He pulled his hand down quickly. "Um..." he looked around the room. "I'm really tired."

"Oh. I should probably go and find Harry and Ron." Hermione said. "I'll see you later, then."

"I s'pose." he muttered.

"Bye."

"Bye."

She walked away, shooting back one glance before she turned a corner. He was watching her leave. They held eye contact for a very uncomfortable moment. But then he seemed to remember that he was annoyed with her, plastering a scowl across his face. It seemed as unnatural and superficial as his smile had been before.

After he was gone from sight, she smiled... just a little.

-o-o-o-

ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: This was originally going to be a part of last chapter, but it was getting far too lengthy.

I appologize for taking so long to get to the action, but it all falls together very quickly after Gringotts. Ridiculously quickly. I have to set up everything here, at Shell Cottage.

Thank you, reviewers! I would not have made it even this far without you!