AN: Hello guys! Couple of notes for you before we get on with the story!

First, a great thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed and favorited the story. You guys are amazing, and your support means the world to me.

Second, I am posting this chapter a month early, because I probably won't be updating untill the end of February. It's exam season, and I will be studying for the next couple of months. After that, I'll be back :)

Third, I wish you all the best in the new 2015! Health, love, happiness, romance, poetry, wealth - all those big important things. I also wish you hugs and kisses and kindness and beauty, and all those small important things.

Not to be a bore, here we go! Let me know what you think!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. J. K- Rowling does.

Chapter Five

***DaB***

November 7th , 1994

Hermione finished reading the letter Harry gave her, and as she looked up into emerald eyes of her best friend, she felt exhausted. She petted Crookshanks between his ears absentmindedly, and shook her head at the boy who somehow always ended up with too much on his plate.

"So... he wants to see you on the 22nd of November, right?" She asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, avoiding eye contact all of a sudden.

"You know I feel it's a foolish risk, for him and for you?"

Harry remained silent.

"If you get caught, just think of the consequences." Her mind went into overdrive, dissecting every possible pattern of thought, thankful for the interruption of her own bothersome thoughts.

But Harry looked at her with such desperation, that she couldn't finish her thoughts. It was blatantly obvious to both of them that there was little to be said on the subject that they haven't already spoken of. Hermione stood up and pulled her friend into a hug.

Harry was surprised at first, but then he just went along with it. Hermione was the only female in his life that ever showed him any sort of support and affection, and though he would never admit it to himself, sometimes he desperately needed it.

Hermione pulled away, and decided to change the subject.

"You want to go to the library? You still have your Charms homework to work on!"

Harry groaned, but nodded his head. With Hermione Granger, you knew you would always, somehow, end up in a library.

**DaB**

Draco Malfoy was furious.

He had just received a letter from his Father, who informed him in an off-hand manner that his Mother was ill. Nothing more was written on that subject, but his Father made a point to ask about his studies, and whether or not he had 'managed to outdone the filthy Muggleborn in any of the school subjects'.

It hurt him, but he would never admit it. Lucius Malfoy had never, ever told his son that he was proud of him; on the contrary, most of the time he pointed out Draco's flaws, mocking his weaknesses and making Draco feel unworthy.

Now, with his mention of Granger, it opened up a well of things he did not want to think about, starting with the strange incident yesterday. Hermione Granger was messing with his head in more ways than one and he did not like it. Their strange arrangement seemed dangerous to his mind, and that fact, coupled with the factor that he didn't know what was happening with his Mother, made him angry and frustrated. His mood was in no way to be tampered with at that moment.

Try explaining that to Pansy Parkinson, though.

Pansy was one of the first people he ever met, seeing as their families were associated in more ways than one. Mr. Parkinson, Pansy's Father, was one of the many investors in some of Malfoy family businesses, and given that they were Purebloods, Draco found himself spending quite some time during his childhood in the company of Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy was an interesting person, to say the least. Being taught the same ways of conducting oneself as he was, she was a good companion. She was a girl, though, and she knew that what was expected of her in the end was to marry a Pureblood wizard and ensure the continuation of his line.

And who better for that than the heir of Malfoy fortune, indeed?

They had discussed it in the past. Pansy came to visit him in secret one night, shaking in fear as she removed her hood. It was sometime during the summer break between their Second and Third year, right about the time he started sleeping with Daphne.

Draco had never seen her so fragile in his entire life, and it was saying something. She broke all the rules, exposing her weaknesses before him, but when he thought about it later, he realized that she had nowhere else to go.

Apparently, she had gotten her period just couple of hours before, and her Father had been ecstatic. Now that she was finally 'mature', her Father told her that he had made an arrangement when she was just a toddler with an acquaintance of his, and older Pureblood wizard, who she was to be married to when she finished school.

The man was almost twenty years older than her, and his permanent residence was in France. Pansy was terrified, and she tried to reason with her Father, telling him how wrong it all was, to sell her off like a piece of property. She told him how unfair it was, and that she was too young to even consider marriage, much less to a man twice her age. She told him she wouldn't do it.

He slapped her, and told her that she was, in fact, his property.

He told her that when she was born, and he saw she was a girl, it disappointed him greatly, and when her Mother couldn't give him another child, he had to come to terms that he was stuck with an unworthy, stupid daughter. He told her she would have to obey, because they made a binding contract, and that she needed to learn her place. He left then, and she waited until everybody went to sleep to go to Draco.

Pansy begged him to marry her that night, her hysterical cries so loud that he had to cast a Silencing spell on the door to prevent anyone from coming to check up on him. She said she would rather be married to someone she knew, than a stranger almost as old as her Father. She was devastated and scared, and Draco embraced her in a hug without saying a word, the first hug he ever gave to anyone, besides his Mother.

Pansy cried herself to sleep that night in his arms, and when the morning came and they woke up together, her eyes were hard as stone, her posture determined. They both knew they would never mention this to anyone, but Draco still felt vulnerable in some way. It was like he was now connected to Pansy, silent witness of her pain. They formed a bond that night, and he did not know what it would mean in the future.

She thanked him quietly, but before she left, she put one hand on his cheek and her face visibly softened.

"You are a good man, Draco Malfoy. I am sorry that you will never be able to show it."

She was gone in a swish of robes before he could say anything, and he never fully understood what she wanted to tell him with that. He probably never would. The next time they saw each other, it was as if nothing happened. Sometimes, Draco thought he might have imagined it all, were it not for the change in their relationship.

She was fond of him before, he knew that, but now, she acted on that fondness in a different matter, like a sister of sorts. She chased off the annoying girls, kept reins over her band of girls, and basically made his life a lot easier. Pansy became acquainted with Theo and Blaise through him, and she often joined their conversations with interesting suggestions of her own. Her sharp-witted mind and dark sense of humour amused him greatly, and their banter always left him in a really good mood.

Not today.

"What's up, ferret boy?" Pansy grinned as she sat next to him on the sofa.

After the unfortunate incident with Professor Moody, he knew Gryffindors have taken it up as a running joke. None of the Slytherins dared to say anything after he stunned a Fifth Year who did not hear Draco approaching as he was relaying the scene to his friends in the Slytherin common room, and left him hanging upside down of the ceiling for five hours. None except Pansy.

"Not in the mood, Parkinson." He glumly replied.

"Oooh, what's got your knickers in a twist?" She asked, popping a Sherbet Lemon in her mouth. The girl had a sweet tooth, and she always kept some sugar on her.

"Mother's ill."

"Oh," was her response. She eyed him carefully, sensing that there was something more that was bothering him, but direct approach never worked with Draco Malfoy.

"Something serious?" Draco looked up and shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. "Father hasn't shared much information."

She decided at that moment that it was best she distracted him for a second, and maybe then she would find out what was really bothering him.

"So, Daphne was asking about you before," she started with a wicked undertone in her voice. "She was quite happy ever since last night, and wondered where you were this morning."

Draco's shoulders tensed as he finally appraised the witch next to him. He made no move to reply, but his eyes narrowed slightly. Pansy saw that, and almost smiled.

"I guess she was hoping for a repeat performance. You did forget to put Silencing charms on your bedroom, you know."

Draco's fingers twitched.

"That little tart was bragging about your bedroom antics to Millicent at the breakfast this morning. It was pretty sickening to listen to her recall all the wicked things you did to her," Pansy made a gagging sound there. Draco wasn't sure where she was going with the story, but he felt intrigued enough to keep quiet and let her continue.

"Yet, what struck me as odd was that somewhere between the lines, I realized that you were extremely angry for some reason."

Pansy knew she hit a nerve by the way his eyebrow moved upwards in a silent question.

"I mean, I know angry sex when I see it. Or hear it, whatever. My question is, Draco dear, what has gotten you so upset that you had to go and shag Greengrass until her brains turned to mush?" She finally got to the point there, and Draco felt unease course through his body. Whereas he did not react outwardly, inside of him a storm was raging.

"I mean, not that her brain is better normally," Pansy added as an afterthought. It was no secret that Pansy despised Daphne, and the feelings of animosity were absolutely mutual. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Draco was not about to give her the satisfaction of sharing his emotions, as he did not know what to make of them himself. He swore not to think about that moment with Granger ever again, but Pansy was too observant for her own good.

Pansy saw then that he wasn't going to give her any sort of answer even though the question shook him; she knew him too well to delude herself into thinking otherwise. Whatever happened when he disappeared during dinner must have been important, because Draco Malfoy rarely got that look of confusion in his eyes, and when he did, he did everything possible to hide it from others.

"The thing I'll never understand is why are you even shagging that idiot anyways? I mean, I get that she's a Pureblood and Lucius would probably be proud but-" Her words were cut off when he stood up from next to her, his features stone cold.

"My Father is never proud of me."

Draco turned away and left her then, pushing through the tide of students coming back from lunch. Pansy frowned, realizing that maybe she shouldn't have pushed him.

Draco's relationship with his Father was a sore subject, and because she knew the man and how he treated his wife and son, she understood it. She may have understood it better than anyone, because she had a Father just like that at home, only he hated her for being a girl.

Poor Draco, she thought, but before she could say anything else, someone sat next to her on the couch, taking up the spot occupied by the blonde moments before.

"Well hello there, little darling," Blaise's smooth voice had a dash of naughtiness in it. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Waiting for me?" He asked, putting one hand on her knee. She slapped it away quickly.

"In your dreams Zabini," she replied. Before he could say anything else on the subject Theo approached them and sat in a vacant chair next to her.

"Hello Pansy, Zabini," he greeted. "What's going on?"

Pansy was clueless to the fact that the smile she gave to Theodore Nott was wider than she ever gave to anyone in her life. Blaise Zabini, on the other hand, was anything but daft, and he could have sworn that Nott's eyes glazed over for a second while looking at the raven-haired witch next to him.

Blaise chuckled a bit to hide his feelings, and nodded to his classmate.

"Not much, Nott. Yourself?"

As Theo started talking, Blaise only half listened. He was aware of the closeness between him and Pansy on the sofa, but he was also aware of the way she looked at Theo. He knew he would have to think long and hard about his feelings for the pretty girl next to him, because he didn't like the way that a smile from Pansy directed to another made him feel.

It was a cold November afternoon, but as they sat by the fire in their Common room, all three of them felt pleasantly warm inside.

**DaB**

November 8th, 1994

Malfoy was waiting for her when she arrived to the Room of Need.

It was easier this time, finding it, though she still felt foolish pacing in front of a painting in an empty corridor. She entered the room quietly, and the doors shut behind her with a thud.

Draco was standing near the end of the room, and he was going through some pages of the Standard Book of Spells when she entered. He put the book down.

"Granger," he said, his voice tense.

He spent most of Saturday afternoon and whole Sunday entertaining himself in order not to think about her. He played chess, gobstones, he even did his homework. He sent a letter to his Father, and then another one to his Mother, asking about her health, but the answer to both was yet to come. He contemplated going to look at the stars, when he remembered that there was something off with Draco and Ursa constellations, but Daphne came to him in that moment and she proved to be a most welcome distraction. All the distraction techniques worked almost perfectly, but now she was here in front of him, and he could feel the faint coursing of magic underneath his skin intensify.

"Malfoy," she replied, willing her voice not to shake.

After the afternoon in the library with Harry, she was exhausted. Tutoring him on Summoning charm was extensive work, especially when he was so easily distracted by everything.

Hermione had a dream that night, about a stranger chasing her through corridors. She took a wrong turn once, and he caught her. She woke up then, covered in sweat and with an ache in her abdomen that she knew she could only relieve in one way. So she cast Silencing charms around her bed and gave herself another orgasm with her fingers. When she came off her high, she swore to herself she would never do it again. Sadly, sleep wouldn't come to her after that. Thankfully, Hermione kept Hogwarts: A History next to her bed, and she reread half of it by the time light crept up and her roommates started to stir in their beds.

She and Harry were in the library again when Ron showed up, asking for her help with Potions, and she had no choice but to leave Harry and go spend some time with Ron. It was awkward, being around them when they weren't talking, and Hermione was growing more frustrated with every passing day. When she tried to talk to Ron about it, he shrugged it off defensively, and she promised herself she would do something about it... just not at the moment.

Now, when Malfoy was so close, she could feel her skin tingle, and treacherous pictures assaulted her vision. She blushed.

Draco noticed her blush, but never stopped to wonder what that was about. He had decided sometime in between their last meeting and now, that these were classes. It meant Granger was here to learn, and he was here to teach. That was it.

"I was thinking we could start by repeating all the spells we've learned so far in school, just so I could get a feel of how far along your magic is."

Malfoy's notion surprised Hermione, but she silently nodded.

It's better this way. No complications, no drama. These are just classes. I need to learn how to control myself.

"Where do you want to start?" She asked, taking her robe off and pulling her frizzy hair up. Draco noted how top button on her shirt was open, showing how her blush spent at least some way down South. He cleared his throat.

"I was thinking we go from simple ones we learned, not all of them, of course. I don't need you levitating things. I just want to see how you cope with more offensive ones – I would like to start with Expelliarmus."

She nodded, took a deep breath, and faced him in a circle that was drawn the same way it was before.

"You attack – I'll defend myself. When I tell you it's enough, you start with another spell. I'll leave it up to you to choose the order, but I'd like to see how you're handling Freezing Charm, then Immobilus and Fire-making Charm."

Hermione was pleased. This she could do – she worked best when she knew what was asked of her.

"Then, knowing that you probably taught yourself some other spells, being such a bookworm, show me those too – but only offensive. And I would also like to see you perform all those curses we hit each other with in front of Dumbledore's office."

She ignored the jab at her studious habit and smiled at the memory of Malfoy lying immobilized at the floor, already knowing what she was going to show him. They both took up duelling stances, and after one final look, both of their voices rang at the same time.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

Hermione's spell bounced off his shield easily, and as she lifted her wand to try again, everything else became unimportant.

For the next forty-five minutes, everything that could be heard were spell incantations and soft grunts by the witch and the wizard duelling.

*DaB*

"Okay, I guess we need a break now."

Hermione just nodded, feeling exhausted. She followed Malfoy to the sofa in the corner and unceremoniously plopped down, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

She had no trouble with the spells – she'd mastered them all perfectly. Even Malfoy was impressed by some of them, although she may have only imagined the piqued expression on his face.

The problem was that she was holding herself back. And Draco saw it too.

"Why do you do that Granger?"

She opened her eyes, startled by his question.

"I don't understand."

"Don't play stupid, it doesn't suit you." He was tired and frustrated with the witch sitting across from him. They were sitting just like this the last time, but he shook that thought quickly and concentrated on the present.

"Why do you restrain yourself?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment, contemplating what to tell him. It dawned on her that this was probably their first civil conversation, not counting those on the top of Astronomy Tower, which she wowed never to repeat again. So she went with the truth.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Draco was taken aback for a moment, but he masked it quickly.

"I didn't think you would care about me not getting hurt. Am I growing on you Granger?" He asked, pulling his mouth up in a wicked smirk

And the arsehole is back, Ladies and Gentlemen.

"It's not about you, Malfoy. I don't give a damn about you. But if I can't control myself enough not to hurt you, it might mean," she stopped briefly, biting her bottom lip. Am I telling him too much?

"What?" He prodded.

"I might not be able to control myself, and I might hurt someone else." Hermione finished uncertainly.

Draco shook his head.

"I think the whole point of this arrangement is for you to learn to control all the power you have. Not just repress it; it may come back and bite you in the arse."

Hermione was staring at him, unsure what to say. An idea came up to him then, and he stood up.

"Okay, let's try again. But you have to let go."

She followed him to the circle, and levitated some pillows behind him. Hermione wanted to protest, but one look at his determined features and she decided against it.

"Go with Expelliarmus. It's an easy one, you're good at it, it should be no problem." Her mouth was open in a shocked expression, and he cursed himself internally when he realized he just complimented her on something. Shaking it off as if it didn't happen, he took up his position.

"Full force, Granger. I'm ready."

Hermione closed her mouth, still in shock, and fired the curse at him.

"Expelliarmus!"

It bounced off his shield.

"Again," he said.

"Expelliarmus!" She yelled, but nothing happened. Draco's wand was still firmly in place, his long fingers wrapped around it.

"Again."

After her sixth try, he knew he had to try something different. He could feel the magic dancing inside him – his body was aching for its fix. He was curious as to the extent of her power, but he also knew that the energy within him was reaching its breaking point, and Granger was the only one that could subdue it.

So he changed tactics.

"Come on Granger. Poor little Muggleborn can't even fire a decent spell?"

The taunting always worked in the past, and he prayed that it would work this time.

Hermione felt an uneasy tightening in her stomach. He called her that word two days ago and it still hurt. Now, he was provoking her again, and it made her irate.

"Expelliarmus!" She yelled, but he just laughed as the spell bounced of his invisible shield.

"Why don't you hit me with an Aguamenti Granger, because I'm so scared of your body-bind curse right now," he laughed, seeing his plan working. Her spell was somewhat stronger this time, but not nearly strong enough to break his shield. "You won't scare or maim anybody with that curse because it's weak. And so are you."

I won't let him get to me, I won't let him get to me, I won't let him get to me.

She repeated the words over and over in her head, trying not to lose her focus and cast another spell. Hermione knew Malfoy was doing it intentionally, but the burn inside of her did not care. He wasn't giving up – he never gave up. Just push, push, push.

"You're such a bookworm Granger. You know many of these spells in theory, and yet you do nothing to master them in practice. The ones you do, well, they're not enough. You think real wizards will spare your pathetic arse if you demonstrate the right hand movement? Do you? It won't matter, because your spells are weak."

He was sneering at her from across the room, and she felt her temper boiling up to the surface.

I won't let him get to me.

"Fight Granger. I am here to teach you how to fight. And those childish curses of yours will not me of much help, when you face some Pureblood wizard much stronger than a pathetic Muggleborn like you."

Her head snapped up.

"Expelliarmus!" She yelled again, to no avail. The second spell backfired as it hit his shield, and she didn't even see him wave his wand, nor heard him speak.

"Fight Granger. I know you can. I know you want to. You've been subduing your magic, I feel it. You want to let it out, but you're scared." His voice was quiet as he ripped apart her defences and saw right through it. She wouldn't do it, she wouldn't hurt him, even though he was a pathetic, vile pig.

"Expelliarmus!" She yelled for the third time, but he stopped it with a lazy flick of his wrist. The fire inside of her was screaming to get out, and her skin barely contained it. He was sneering down at her, and she knew this was going to be bad. Really, really bad.

"Poor little Granger, always pulling back, not being good enough, not being great. Maybe you're just incapable of greatness, huh? Maybe I should go tell professor Dumbledore that you aren't worth my time, or his for that matter. You haven't shown me anything today, besides your utter incompetence."

She felt the rage pump up in her like a bright white hot fire threatening to spill. She tried to control it, prevent it from exploding. He saw it too, saw her holding back, but he didn't want that. Draco wanted her to realize her power and stop running from it. He wanted her to embrace it and use it. He also wanted his release. So he had to push.

"You're a disgrace to the Wizarding world. It has no use of you. We, wizards, have no use of you. Are you sure you aren't a Squib?"

Hermione was shaking now, her fingers trembling. Her lips quivered, as she held onto her last corner of sanity and tried to ignore the git that was pushing at her walls, walls that were crumbling for the past couple of weeks after being unshaken for the past six years.

"No, being a Squib, that's impossible for you. That would mean that you had wizard parents, and we both know that's not true, right, Granger?" He smirked at her, pushing even further, and she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face and push him into the concrete floor until he stopped breathing.

"No, we both know your parents are the same as you – unworthy."

She felt it clearly now, little magic sparks, like electric current. It wasn't just mental; she could feel the physical manifestation of her power running through her body. Her eyes sparkled, and her normally bushy hair was going crazy with static electricity. Draco smirked, and pushed all the way.

"You are exactly what I thought you were – a filthy, disgusting, pathetic little Mudblood."

She felt her walls collapse, and the fire surged through her, burning the rest of her precaution. She couldn't remember when it was she lifted her wand, she only heard herself yell the words.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

The power of the curse threw Malfoy over the room, his wand flying towards her, and as she watched him hit the wall like a rag doll, thrown back by the power of the curse, Hermione felt all her powers vanish and her fear come back.

What have I done?

She ran across the room in a daze, and fell on her knees beside him. She could see a cut on his cheek and the red blood trail it left on his porcelain face.

"Finite Incantatem," she whispered, and he slowly opened his eyes. She gasped as she saw the steel gray turn to molten silver, as a spark danced behind them. Before she could say how sorry she is, she heard his hoarse voice.

"You see Granger, that's what I'm talking about."

It was the first time she ever saw him smile.

Before she could say or do anything else, he took his wand from her hand and slowly stood up.

"Lesson over. See you in a week."

And he left her again, doors closing behind his tall blond form, sitting on the floor confused and scared.

*DaB*

It was late night, but Professor Dumbledore was awake. All of the former Headmasters' portraits were asleep; Phineas was gone for the night, and Dumbledore was somewhat relieved.

There was a slight rapping on the window, and Dumbledore sighed. With a flick of his wrist, the window was open, and a bat flew in.

"Good evening Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to a man that appeared in his office.

Professor Snape acknowledged him with a nod, cleaning his robes in the process.

"I suppose you have some new information," Dumbledore said, as he made himself comfortable in his Headmaster chair.

"I need to show you something."

Snape's expression was even gloomier than usual. He slowly removed his robes and pulled up the sleeve on his left forearm.

Dumbledore's eyes widened, and his expression turned more serious than Snape's seen it in years.

"For how long, Severus?"

"As soon as I felt it this morning, I notified you Albus."

Dumbledore sighed. Snape continued, looking down at his forearm.

"It's still pretty faint, but it itches a little. I believe the others have felt it too. Lucius is coming to watch the tournament, and I'll ask him when I see him. Igor should have felt something too, maybe that's why he didn't show his face for meals today."

They were both silent after that, and the only sound that was heard was the soft snoring of the previous Headmasters and the slow squeaking of the Rotating Tower. Minutes passed, and Dumbledore finally spoke.

"So it begins, Severus."

Snape snapped out of his thoughts and paid attention to the Headmaster.

"We knew this day would come, and I hope I can prevent it, but still... are you sure you want to do it?"

Snape's face turned to stone, his features pale and angry.

"Do I need to show you my Patronus Albus? Do you still not believe in me, after all this time?"

Dumbledore smiled softly and shook his head.

"That's not the case at all, dear friend. The years to follow will be hard on us. The war never really ended, it was all just postponed, and I wonder..."

Dumbledore stopped talking and just looked through the Potions Master, his eyes twinkling as he pondered this new scrap of information. Severus looked back down at his arm.

The black ink was barely visible – it was more light grey actually. The snake coming out of the skull was a sign of terror for many years; it still was, but not to Severus Snape.

To him, it was a reminder of a promise he made to a young, red-haired girl, that he wouldn't let any harm get to her. It was a reminder of how he had failed her with accepting the Mark on his skin, and how it ultimately led to her death.

It was a reminder of a man he used to be, a shell of a man he was now, and a ghost of dangerous future that is yet to be.

"... I wonder at what cost."

The night was dark; the terrors were yet to come.