Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or liked or followed so far- it means so much to me! This is still a bit strange since I've never published a story of mine before, and the comments have been so positive and uplifting. As promised, here is the fifth chapter, perhaps with a little bit of Dramione action as a reward for the long wait... who knows? ;) America was amazing, and I had a wonderful holiday, but I'm also glad to be back and writing again. I actually couldn't wait to continue with this story! As always, happy reading!

5. The Hog's Head

Draco led Hermione through corridors and archways she couldn't remember passing. But then again, it wasn't often she ventured to this side of the building. A couple of students passed by them, but not many as only the upper years had a free period. Nearly all of them were Slytherin, which made Hermione slightly uncomfortable, since they all seemed to be staring at her. She kept a good few metres between Draco and herself, so that no one would realise they were heading the same way.

Draco eventually stopped at a door set into the wall. Hermione watched as he stepped in front of the big lock visible beneath the door handle, shielding her from what he was doing. A few seconds later, there was a click, and the door swung open. Draco disappeared inside, not checking to see if Hermione was following. She did, slipping through the door after him before it closed. Once inside she was met with a staircase that spiralled upwards, presumably right to the top of the tower.

Hermione sighed, hitching up her robes and continuing up after the sound of Draco's echoing footsteps against the cold stone steps. 'Did you break in?' she called up after him.

There was a long pause, and Hermione wondered if Draco had actually heard her question, or if he was just going to ignore her. But then, he spoke. 'No,' he called down, sounding slightly fed up. 'I have a key.'

'You have a key?' Hermione repeated with a disbelieving tone.

'Yeah,' Draco said. 'I stole it from Filch. You going to report me for that?'

'No,' Hermione said back, before the two lapsed again into silence. In her opinion, it didn't look like Filch came up here much anyway. The sconces that lined the circular walls were empty and covered in thick coatings of dust, stringy cobwebs hanging limply from their bodies. It grew colder the higher Hermione climbed, causing her to wrap her Gryffindor cloak tightly around her shoulders in order to keep warm.

It took a good couple of minutes to climb the stairs, and once Hermione reached the top she found herself feeling quite dizzy. The stairs ended at another door, which Draco had already opened, probably with the same key. He'd left it wide open for her, and as she walked through it she found herself emerging into a wide circular room that was completely bare. The cold air came from the number of arched windows in the wall, all of which contained no glass and were covered only by a pair of metal bars. They were quite small windows; however, that didn't stop the icy gusts of wind that blew into the room, sending dust balls scattering across the bare wooden boards.

Draco was leaning against the far wall, one foot pressed up against it, his arms folded. He looked impatient.

'You stole a key to this place?' Hermione questioned him with distaste. She supposed it was nice and private- no one would ever come here, that was for sure. But why would you feel the need for a place like this?

'What do you know?' Draco asked bluntly, ignoring Hermione's question and glaring at her from behind a fringe of white hair that had fallen over his eyes. He brushed it back with irritation.

'Ok,' Hermione said slowly. 'I'll tell you.'

And she did. She started from the beginning, from when she'd seen Draco in the corridor the night before. She explained how she'd followed him to the Room of Requirement, and how she'd also discovered the Vanishing Cabinets. She then went on to talk about how she'd ended up in Borgin and Burkes, and hidden herself when she'd heard voices- the voices of Lucius Malfoy and Draco himself.

'I saw it all happen,' she explained, keeping her eyes warily on Draco to see how he'd react. This was the part that she was least looking forward to sharing. She was impressed with him so far, as he hadn't interrupted her once, although he had been looking down at the floor the whole time whilst biting his lip. Probably trying hard not to interrupt.

He looked up as she said this though. 'You mean you heard everything my farther said to me?' he asked, looking directly at Hermione, his expression one she couldn't place.

'Yes,' Hermione confessed. 'Every word from the moment you came down the stairs at the back of the shop.'

'So...,' Draco said, shifting to clasp his hands tightly in front of him. Hermione tugged nervously on a stand of her curly brown hair. The tension in the room was almost unbearable. 'You know what I have to do?'

'Yes,' Hermione answered with a short nod, her voice barely a whisper.

Draco stayed silent for a long time, his forehead creased in concentration, while Hermione stayed where she stood uncertainly in the centre of the room. She felt very uncomfortable; because she could see every emotion Draco was experiencing displayed clearly on his features and in his body language- and this was a boy she barely knew. A boy she hated. 'I don't understand,' Draco finally said, looking at her again.

'What?' Hermione breathed, her voice hoarse. She was getting nervous now.

'Why you won't tell anyone,' he said. Then he narrowed his eyes. 'Or will you?'

'No,' Hermione said firmly, drawing another surprised look from Draco. 'I promised.'

'Yeah, but why?' Draco pressed. 'I'm a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor,' he said with distaste, pointing first to himself and then at Hermione. 'It seems like the obvious thing for you to go and tell your little Gryffindor buddies about the evil Slytherin who's going to murder your beloved headmaster,' he continued, his voice rising as he spoke.

'You're not evil,' Hermione said suddenly, surprising herself as well as Draco, who gave her a questioning look. She had sounded...sincere, to her own ears, as if she really believed her own words.

'Yeah,' Draco scoffed. Clearly even he didn't believe that, which was an odd thing, again, for Hermione to see. Surely every Slytherin believed what they were doing- whatever it was- was the right thing? Or maybe there was more to Draco than she had ever thought possible.

'You're not,' Hermione repeated. 'Malfoy, listen. I didn't just hear everything. I saw things too. Your father-'

'That's enough,' Draco spat, interrupting her. He was glaring at her again, and Hermione new why. She had been about to say that his father had hit him, which was by all means a sensitive topic of discussion. Behind the glare, she thought she could see a hint of embarrassment amongst the Slytherin's conflicting emotions.

'Ok, ok,' Hermione said, holding her hands up in defence. 'But you know what I mean. I know you don't want to do this.' She paused for a moment, and then said something impulsive that she would, again, most likely regret. She was doing a lot of impulsive things lately. First, revealing Draco's Dark Mark, and now... 'I can help you.'

'What?' Draco asked in genuine shock.

'I'm the only other person in the entire school who knows about this, right?' Hermione asked. Draco nodded. 'So maybe you need someone to talk to about it. I... could help you stop it.'

At this, Draco let out a bark of laughter, a reaction Hermione was certainly not expecting. 'You're going to help me are you?' Draco said smugly. 'Granger, you don't know the first thing about me. And about stopping it from happening- you can't. What were you planning on doing anyway?'

'I don't know,' Hermione replied angrily, folding her arms. 'But what I wasn't planning was to sit about doing nothing. Not when I know all this,' she gestured wildly with one hand. 'That's something we could talk about.'

'We?' Draco laughed again. 'Granger there is no 'we'. Me and you working together? That's just never going to happen.'

'It's not like we have another option, Malfoy' Hermione spat back.

'I could always wipe your memory,' Draco threatened. 'Or I could report you to the Death Eaters. I'm sure they would know what to do with you.'

'We both know that's a bad idea!' Hermione argued. She was getting fed up of Draco refusing every offer she made. They had what they had to work with, and he was just turning it into a fight between two common enemies. She needed him to see the bigger picture. 'If you report me to your Death Eater clan, don't you think they'd punish you too? After all, you practically let me follow you. And a memory charm? Don't you think my friends would notice if I suddenly forgot everything from the past couple of days? Don't you think they'd get suspicious? And then you'd have something else to worry about.' Hermione was practically shouting now.

Draco held up a hand to silence her. 'Ok, ok, Granger, you've made your point,' he snapped back.

'No, Malfoy, I haven't,' Hermione yelled. 'Don't you see; this isn't about us? It isn't about our petty differences or our hatred for one another; because you've made it very clear that you despise me.'

'And vice versa,' Draco muttered.

Hermione scowled. 'You can either work with me, and we can stop something from happening that I know you don't want to happen, or I'll do it myself, no matter what you think. That's my offer.'

Draco matched her expression with a similar scowl. 'Fine. Fine! But I'm trusting you, Granger. Don't tell anybody about this. And I mean anybody.'

'Same to you,' Hermione said. 'Remember I'm trusting you as well, Malfoy.'

'Fine,' Draco repeated. He paused, staring thoughtfully at Hermione, chewing his lip, all the while keeping an unpleasant scowl on his face. It looked as if he were about to say something, but then he appeared to decide against it. During their argument, he had come a few paces away from the wall he had been leaning on, but now he retreating back to slouch against it. 'You should go down first,' he said, pointing to the staircase behind Hermione. 'I'll follow a few minutes after, so it doesn't look like we've been together.' He said the word 'together' as if he were a child talking about broccoli, but Hermione ignored his disgusted tone.

'Ok,' she said, before heading to the doorway. She turned back to the room slightly once she had reached the doorway, very much aware of Draco's scrutinising gaze, contemplating whether or not she should say something else, but she had nothing else to say. Instead, she began her descent back down the spiral staircase. She supposed she'd be speaking to Draco again shortly, although how shortly she had no idea.

It turned out their next encounter would be sooner than either one had anticipated. The next day- a Tuesday- was the second day of the sixth year Curriculum. The afternoon class on the timetable was Herbology, but due to the fact Professor Sprout was missing various essential potions and tools, plus the fact it had recently been her birthday, she was allowing the class on a trip down to Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Their only orders were to buy a list of products from Dogweed and Deathcap, the Herbology shop, but other than that they had free reign.

'I don't believe this,' Ron exclaimed as he, Harry and Hermione walked in a row along Hogsmeade's main street, their Dogweed and Deathcap products already purchased and stuffed into Harry's rucksack that he had brought along. 'It's our second day back and I've literally had no lessons yet! It's amazing.'

'Don't worry Ron, in a week or two you'll be up to your neck in coursework. Did you know N.E. require over double the amount of additional assignments and weekly examinations in certain subjects?' Hermione asked, causing Ron's elated expression to crumble.

'Yeah, well, I'm just going to enjoy a blissful first week if you don't mind, Miss Know-it-all,' he shot back.

Hermione turned on Ron. 'Really?' she cried. 'This again.'

'Guys, please,' Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes (something he had become very used to doing). 'Can we enjoy one pleasant afternoon where you two don't argue, and we just get some drinks and relax, because it's a nice, sunny day, and we've got nothing to worry about...' he trailed off, looking at his friends with pleading eyes.

'Whatever,' Ron said; at the same time Hermione said 'Yes, lets.' Both looked at each other, but made no comment, although Hermione didn't agree with the fact she had nothing to worry about. If only they knew...

'That's better,' Harry said with a smile, catching the look Hermione and Ron gave each other when they spoke at the same time. Hermione assumed he was only pleased they didn't start at each other again.

The three carried on walking a while, before coming to a halt in front of the Three Broomsticks Inn. There was a steady flow of customers- locals and Herbology students alike- coming in and out of the front door, and through the windows it was clearly packed inside: there were people everywhere.

'Let's go in and buy a Butterbeer or something,' Harry suggested, pointing to the entranceway.

'Actually, I'm feeling like a Firewhiskey,' Ron answered, already beginning to dig into his pockets for his wallet.

'Um, it's a little crowded,' Hermione piped up, but Ron and Harry were already shouldering their way through the crowds to the front door. Hermione was about to follow them inside, reluctantly, when she felt a hand in her pocket. She spun to see Draco standing directly behind her. He gestured with his eyes to her cloak pocket, before spinning and disappearing into the folds of people as quickly as he had appeared.

Hermione blinked but he was already gone. Surprised, she reached into her robes and drew out a folded piece of parchment that had been slipped into one of her pockets. Quickly, she unfolded it to see two words scrawled in loopy handwriting on the page:

Hog's Head

So Draco wanted to meet her at the Hog's Head Inn, a dingy little pub owned by none other than Dumbledore's younger brother, Aberforth, although he was rarely sighted there. Hermione supposed it was quiet there, perfect for a secret meeting. She stared at the parchment for a while, then she quickly scrunched it up and shoved it back into her pocket, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the exchange. But no one even glanced in her direction. She looked back to the Three Broomsticks, and if she squinted she could just make out the retreating figures of Ron and Harry as they made their way to the back of the inn. They hadn't even noticed she was missing. On another day she might have been slightly offended, but right now it was just what she needed.

Without another look back, she began to walk away from the inn, leaving behind her the hordes of jeering people and the usual hustle of a crowded pub on a busy day. The Hog's Head Inn was located down one of the quieter side streets, right at the edge of the village. Unsurprisingly, Hermione didn't encounter a single soul once she'd made it off the main street. In barely any time at all she had made her way to a rather battered looking building with a blackened, rotting front porch and a tatty sign hanging above it consisting of a menacing painting of a pig baring its teeth and the words 'Hog's Head' in faded gold script.

Hermione shivered, suddenly feeling a little cold. She could see only blackness creeping under the front door, which was slightly ajar, and the two windows either side were boarded up. If she hadn't known otherwise, she would have assumed the place was closed. Unwillingly, she stepped inside. The interior was no better, comprising of one small, dirty room, with very little light. The bay windows that lined the walls were so encrusted in filth you could barely see through them, and the rough wooden tables were all bare except for the odd few containing the stubs of candles on their surfaces. The floor was made of stone, and was smothered in so much grime it looked as if there was no floor at all, but instead that the building was simply built on open ground.

There were only two customers. One was a masked figure who sat at one of the tables nearest the bar, their hood down, shadowing their face from view. They sat unmoving, and Hermione, still in the doorway, tried without much success to ignore their unnerving presence. The second customer was Draco. He was sat at a table by one of the windows in the back right corner of the room. He had removed his cloak, which was hanging on the back of his chair, and had rolled up the right sleeve only of his black knitted jumper. He was slouched against the chair's backrest, on hand on one knee, and one hand spinning a single galleon atop the table surface. When the door slammed behind Hermione, he looked up, and beckoned her over.

Hermione hurried to take the seat opposite him, sitting down hastily and drawing her cloak around her. She didn't understand how Draco could have taken his off- it was freezing.

'I can't believe I'm really doing this,' Draco said as soon as she was sat down.

'What? Meeting with a Gryffindor?' Hermione asked, 'because I never expected to be meeting up with a Slytherin, either.'

Draco let out a short laugh at this, although it was missing any hint of humour. 'Yeah, well, there's a firs time for everything, huh.'

Hermione almost smiled. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin pure-blood, was making small talk. And he hadn't glared or scowled at her yet. His expression was oddly blank, but it was progress. She leaned forwards slightly, placing her elbows on the table. 'So, why did you ask to meet me here?'

'I... wanted to tell you that I think you're right,' Draco answered, without meeting her eyes.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. 'Well, I never thought I'd hear a Slytherin say that, that's for sure. Right about what?'

'Yesterday, when you said we should put aside our differences,' Draco continued, still refusing to look up. He had now moved from spinning the coin to tugging on a loose thread on his left sleeve. 'It turns out I do need someone to talk to. I don't think I can stand keeping this to myself any longer. My friends, none of them are even,' he lowered his voice to a whisper, 'Death Eaters. I'm the only one. None of them have any idea what's going on, or what I'm going through.' He shook his head in disbelief, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'I still can't believe I'm pouring my heart out to a Gryffindor. And to you, Granger, of all people.'

Hermione sighed. 'Yeah, well, try not to think about it,' she said. 'This is kind of an odd situation for me too. But I get that this must be hard for you. I know it's a horrible burden to bear, you must understand that.'

'I do,' Draco insisted. 'What I don't understand is why you're doing this. You haven't even told your friends: Potter and Weasley, I thought you guys were inseparable.'

'I promised, didn't I?' Hermione said in earnest. 'And if I told them now...well, Ron would overreact and Harry wouldn't understand...,' she laughed again. 'Look at me, now I'm pouring my heart out to you, Malfoy.'

This time Draco managed a full smile, if only for a few seconds. 'Looks to be that way, Granger.'

'Well, well, well,' a voice croaked. Draco and Hermione both looked up at the same time to see a scraggly old woman in a murky apron looking down on them, wiring grey hair swept wildly from her face. When she spoke again she smiled, showing a mouth full of yellowing teeth, a couple of them missing. 'A Slytherin,' she said, pointing to Draco's tie poking from his sweater, 'and a Gryffindor,' she pointed to the red badge on Hermione's robes. 'How unusual...oh, let me guess- forbidden romance?'

Hermione glanced at Draco, suddenly realising how close they were. Their faces were inches apart- they must have gradually leaned closer as they spoke. Draco seemed to realise this just as Hermione did, as they both sprang backwards at the same time. The strange women cackled hideously.

'Aw,' she exclaimed. 'Have I intruded on something?'

Draco scowled, his face clouding over with hatred. 'What do you want?' he snapped, obviously unhappy with this woman's accusations.

'I'm here to take your order,' the women said with a smile, placing her hands on her hips.

Draco, still scowling, looked up to meet her gaze. 'I'll have a Butterbeer.'

'You'll have a Butterbeer please,' the woman corrected him in her hoarse voice, letting out another cackle.

Draco's scowl deepened. He reached for his pockets and drew out a galleon and a couple of sickles. 'Here's your money,' he muttered, shoving the coins under her chin.

The woman finally stopped smiling; scowling back she grabbed the money. 'And you?' she asked gruffly, turning to Hermione.

Hermione gave her the same amount. 'The same please,' she said apprehensively.

'Coming right up,' the woman said, backing off without another word.

Hermione turned back to Draco, but he was leaning away from her again, his head turned to the window. From his hunched shoulders and tight expression, Hermione concluded that he was done talking for the moment. He was back to the usual Draco Malfoy she knew so well. The two sat in silence as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Eventually, the grey-haired woman returned, carrying with her two glasses full to the brim with the golden liquid. She set the drinks down and walked off silently, which Hermione was grateful for.

She began drinking her Butterbeer in tiny sips, whereas Draco didn't touch his. The silence finally grew too much for Hermione, who cleared her throat. 'Are you going to drink that?' she blurted. Draco shrugged in response, his head still turned to the window. Hermione grew even more agitated. 'Do you have anything else you want to say to me?'

Draco brought his hand up to his lips, biting his nails slightly. 'Maybe you should leave,' he said quietly.

Hermione stared for a moment. Draco had invited her here to send her away? They hadn't discussed anything to do with his Death Eater mission. All he'd managed to do was tell her he agreed with her and then ordered a Butterbeer before shutting her off again. If they were ever to meet again in the future, she hoped it wouldn't end like this. With an angry sigh she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping back with an ear-splitting screech. 'Maybe I should,' she said, before turning on her heel and storming out the door.

As she made her way back through the streets, she supposed the meeting could have been worse. At first, Draco had been surprisingly open, which meant that somewhere inside him was a part willing to let loose a little and trust someone else. However, for now, she could tell he still didn't fully trust her. He was unwilling to 'pour his heart out'- as he'd so put- about what he was going through. Hermione had to remind herself of the weight on his shoulders. He had to kill someone. Even though she was trying to, she knew she could never fully understand what that was like. Talking to her meant that Draco was betraying his father, the Death Eaters, and also Voldemort himself. Hermione imagined that was another reason he had to keep everything bottled up. Not only was he risking his life by allowing her to know this, her life was also on the line.

Strangely, Hermione was not fazed at all by this fact. She had no idea in the slightest how she or Draco could stop this from happening. If Draco didn't kill Dumbledore, the Death Eaters would surely know about it, and from there, she didn't know what they would do. But for the time being, all she wanted was to take some of the weight off his shoulders. She was surprised at herself for this- for wanting to help her enemy. Draco Malfoy of all people. But she kept remembering his face, the look of horror as his father told him that no matter what, he would kill Dumbledore. He would be taking a life, whether he liked it or not. And that's what would keep her trying. For no one deserved to suffer in that way, and if she was the only one who knew about it, then she was the only one who could help.

Please review if you wish to! Chapter 6 up next Wednesday.