No Copyright Infringement Intended

Chapter Six

Promises and Goodbye's

Hermione kept her promise to Malfoy. He didn't quit treating her the way he had for six years, and she ignored him. Nothing changed, it was like that night on the tower never happened. It was for the best, she kept telling herself that. If only she believed it.

Weeks passed filled with books, classes, and lectures to Harry, and Ron. Everything was back to normal, or as normal as life could be with Harry, and Ron. For a while they nagged her about the extra reading she had been doing. In between classes, at breakfast, lunch, and supper she was reading. It was her way of getting Malfoy out of her mind, but she would never tell her friends that. If they thought she was worried about the bouncing ferret they would have had a fit. It was best that they didn't know everything about her.

At breakfast one morning she propped a book against a jug of juice taking a bite of her muffin purposely avoiding looking over at the Slytherin table. The owls like every morning flew in from above. Letters dropped on everyone's plates, knocking over a few cups along the way. She was surprised when a letter dropped on her eggs. She had already wrote her parents yesterday, and they wouldn't write back so soon.

She ripped it open, taking out a letter. In the top right hand corner was a silvery marking of a large 'm'. She scanned the letter.

Granger,

Meet me in the spare classroom on the fourth floor after breakfast.

Malfoy

Hastily she folded it, and stuffed it back into the envelope dropping it in her book bag. Harry watched this curiously.

"Anything the matter, Hermione?"
"No," she said too quickly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond. Him, and Ron exchanged incredulous glances. She ignored them, focusing on the letter. She debated back, and forth if she should go. She was curious to what he had to say to her, then again wouldn't it be kind of like breaking the rules? That night seemed so final between them. Would it make it harder?

She almost laughed. Who was she kidding? Of course she was going to go. If Gryffindors weren't known for their bravery they were known for their inability to follow rules, and stay out of others business.

When breakfast was over she told Harry, and Ron that she had to go up to the library for more research. They didn't say anything against this, because they figured it was true. She did spend a lot of her time in there, but when they reached the third floor she went into the nearest corridor, and waited until Harry, and Ron were well up to the sixth floor before she came back out to go up one more staircase.

There were a lot of classrooms in Hogwarts that no one used, but the fourth floor had one. Two doors from the end of a hallway she slipped in. The brackets were already lit, and she saw Malfoy sitting on a desk, his feet on the chair. He nodded as she closed the door.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"Had to get rid of Harry, and Ron. What is it you want?"

"To tell you goodbye."

"Haven't we done this, already?"

He looked at his hands as he spoke. "Yes, but this is for good. Father is bringing me home. Voldemort wants all of his followers at a moments notice, and there's nothing I can do here."

She felt her heart beat against her rib cage. She felt sick, so sick that she looked for anything nearby that she could puke in.

Malfoy noticed her complexion turning into a sickly green. He leapt off the desk, and held her. She kept her arms at her sides, unable to hug him back. If she did she might never let go.

"If I could I'd stay here. If I could have anything though I'd have my past back. I'd do right by you."

"Don't," she said.

"I have to say this, Hermione. Let me."

She nodded against his chest, and she felt him shake. From what she didn't know.

"I can say sorry a million times, and not blame you once for not accepting it. I wouldn't either. I want you to know that no matter my mistakes in allegiance, or whatever brand I may have, no matter my surname, or anything your smarts, and logic can come up with I'll always care about you. Everyday that I'm gone I'll be hoping that Potter, and Weasley are watching out for you. Before you say anything, I know that you can take care of yourself. I've seen it firsthand when you hit me our third year." He chuckled sadly. "But these people aren't me. They don't show mercy, and know no promises. They're evil. Promise me, above everything that when the time comes for the first battle you'll get away."

She didn't want to, but Hermione cried. His arms tightened around her, but like they were glued at her sides her arms stayed. "I can't."

He sighed. "I knew you wouldn't be able to promise that... You wouldn't leave your friends for anything, and I know ruddy hell that they'll be in the front lines. You're the most loyal person I know. Fine then, promise me that you won't get yourself killed."

"I can't," she repeated.

"I know that you can't, but promise me anyway. Please, Hermione, it'll make me feel better."

"No," she wriggled out of his grasp. "I can promise you one thing."

He looked near tears. "What is that?"

"I promise that whatever you do out there, I'll forgive you for."

"You can't do that -"

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" Her voice shook.

He slowly nodded taking in her words. "Does that mean you forgive me for the last six years?"

She smiled. "Yes. You're an arse Draco Malfoy, but... I still care for you. Now, make me a promise."

"Anything."

"Write me, as often as you can. Please, I have to know that you're not..."

"I promise, but if my comrades knew who I was speaking to... You need a different name."

Hermione thought. Something different. She went through a list of her favorite characters, but none fit her.

"Caitriona," Malfoy suggested. "It means courage, and purity. It's you."

She smiled. "Caitriona it is."

They stood there in the middle of the classroom staring at their shoes, or in Malfoy's case boots. Time ticked by, and Hermione's arms ached to hold him, but she didn't dare go towards him. She regretted it immediately when he walked out, saying such a soft goodbye that she wondered if she had imagined it.

She missed her first two classes that day. She stayed in that room at the desk her old friend sat in. When she emerged into the common room three hours later, and had to be subjected to Harry, and Ron's questions, she only shook her head dazing off into the fire.

All the times that she thought she lost her best friend it had never hurt as much as knowing that it might be the last time she saw him. They were on opposite sides of the war, and those last moments with him was like being with the living dead. He would die, it wasn't a question in her mind. The only question was what would they do if they had to face each other. Would they fight? Would they be forced to kill? No, she wouldn't kill him. He would have to kill her.