Hello! I REALLY apologize for the time it took me to upload this chapter. It was actually done for a while, but from a mixture of procrastination, extra-curriculars, and school, I was unable to edit or even do anything with it. Please review, I apologize once again!

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Chapter 4: Identity Crisis

It was now October third. Draco had been at Hogwarts for exactly one month. He was quite proud of how well his identity scheme was going. There was, of course, one instance when he nearly blew his cover a few nights before, but he was able to save himself.

There he was, sitting with Granger, in the Head Students' common room. He was working on a Potions essay while she was translating something for Ancient Runes. Hermione had just come from dinner, Draco from Snape's office.

"You know," Granger began, "it's nice to see you have such a good bond with Professor Snape. He tends to really despise Gryffindors."

Draco looked up from his nearly complete essay. "Uh right, well, he was the first teacher I met upon coming here. Perhaps he took a liking to me."

"Seems like it. He really hates my friend Harry-" Hermione broke off as Draco grinned. But then he saw the longing look on her face and realize she was thinking about Scarhead and it upset her, "-but he hates Ron, and me, and even Neville. You know Neville, right?"

"The fat, awkward one?"

"That's rude Alex," Hermione said softly.

"Right. My apologies," Draco muttered. Oh how he hated himself for having to apologize to this Mudblood because he criticized stupid Longbottom.

They talked for a little more, mostly brief comments here and there. Draco was soon finished with his essay, which was good because his eyes were fighting off the urge to shut. He decided he'd lie down and rest for a few moments before he started his History of Magic homework. He despised that class… only took it because Head Boy requirements entail more classes than regular students… lecture after lecture… soon, Draco's thoughts drifted off and he was asleep.

Hermione stared at the handsome figure asleep on the sofa. Sleep made people look so innocent, so pure, so kind. She snapped out of her trance. She couldn't do this to Ron. Or could she? After all, he snogged Lavender Brown and appeared to have enjoyed it. He never tried to do that to her, even though she believed her feelings for him were quite apparent. For Godric's sake, even Harry had noticed. An aching feeling was creeping into her body. She missed her two best friends. Hermione felt a large tear slip down her cheek. She hoped they were safe, she wished she could be there to help them find the horcruxes, and she at least hoped for an owl or something from them. But no, there was nothing. To be honest, they could both be dead and she'd never know. Her body was suddenly seized with trembling, and her face with tears. She sat and silently cried a little more. She finally got a hold of herself and checked the clock. It was only 8:15 at night and she still had a large portion of her Ancient Runes homework to translate, but all she really wanted was the sanctuary of her bed. Hermione glanced back over at Alex. He was still sleeping, but his skin color had paled immensely. Perhaps it was the light? Or maybe a nightmare? Or worse, maybe he was getting sick. She decided to wake him.

"Alex," she shook him slightly, "wake up."

Draco's eyes flew open to reveal Granger hovering over him. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were tear-stained.

"What the hell? You couldn't have found a more subtle way to wake me up? Shit, Granger," as he said this, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, only to notice his hands beginning to whiten. Oh bloody hell, he thought.

Hermione was backing away slowly as she said, "I know, I'm sorry. I-I was just getting worried because when I looked over at you and you were pale…and…and…I didn't know if you were alright. Do you feel alright?"

"No," answered Draco, "what time is it?"

"It's 8:19."

Instantly Draco flew up from the couch. He dashed to his room and slammed the door. Close call, he thought. He removed his clothes and put on a night robe. Using a goblet of water he conjured up, he brushed his teeth on the balcony, avoiding the bathroom and any possible run-ins with Granger, and went immediately to sleep. He didn't want to face an interrogation from Detective Mudblood yet, even though he knew it was inevitable.

Draco woke up that morning with an awful headache. He couldn't remember having a nightmare, or dreaming at all for that matter, but it felt like his brain was pounding. He could hear Granger getting ready in their bathroom. He waited a few minutes for her to finish up, and then, as soon as she opened the door, he nearly trampled her down and slammed the door shut in her face. He realized it was a little rude, but he didn't want Granger to start questioning him about the precious night.

When Draco was finished, he dashed back to his room, drank the day's flask of Polyjuice Potion, and went to the shared common room area. Granger was in the kitchenette portion of her dorm when he knocked on the door. She was peering into the cabinet—which led directly to the Hogwarts main kitchen—and receiving her meal directly from the house elves. Draco could hear her actually thanking them all, her tone sugary sweet and gratifying. Draco was repulsed.

"So, no breakfast in the Great Hall today, Granger," Draco asked as she opened the door.

"No," she answered quite tersely. She pushed passed him back into their common room area and picked up some scattered essay papers that she hadn't put away before going to sleep.

Draco was a tad taken aback by this animosity in Granger's tone. What had he done?

"You do realize I was only trying to help you last night, right? You looked ill. I didn't mean to frighten you or anything, so there was no need for your behavior," said Hermione rather rapidly as she strode to the door.

"You didn't mean to scare me but you did," Draco responded, "perhaps if you would've just tapped me or something-" but he was cut off abruptly by Hermione.

"Why did you rush off to your room so quickly after I told you the time?"

Draco paused, he had not thought of an excuse for this. "I wasn't feeling well."

Hermione continued, "Yes but you-" It was Draco's turn to cut her off now.

"I don't understand why it's even any of your business Granger."

And with that, turned on her heel and stormed out of the dorm.

After dinner that night, Draco was supposed to be meeting with Snape. His Polyjuice Potion stock was running low, and he needed to somehow get ahold of his parents, or at least his mother. As he was leaving the Great Hall, he passed Granger. She waved at him, but he completely ignored her and continued on to Snape's office. Her scent lingered in the hall for a little while, as the direction Draco was heading to was the one from which she had just come. It smelled familiar, like his mother's but not as strong. This one was more of a vanilla-with-a-hint-of-gardenia, while his mother's was more of an overpowering gardenia-with-a-hint-of-vanilla. Why am I even thinking of her bloody smell? He thought to himself. He had obviously subconsciously gotten used to, and maybe even enjoyed, Granger's scent. This smell brought a large wave of longing over him, and he began to sprint to Snape's office.

Draco knocked on the door and let himself in. He still had about two hours remaining of the Polyjuice Potion, but he needed to be quick. He had an Ancient Runes translation due the next day and he was going to need the Mudblood's help.

"Evening, Draco," said Snape in his usual lazy drawl.

"Snape, er, Professor, I just came by for the refills."

"Right," said Snape as he stood up swiftly from his chair and went into his stock closet. Draco looked around until his eyes landed upon a mirror in the corner of the room. He walked over to it and stared at his reflection. Although he couldn't deny the good genes this Alexander character had, Draco was unhappy with his new appearance. Perhaps it was the ugly gold-and-crimson knitted scarf that was wrapped cozily around his neck, or maybe it was the robes he was required to wear; black but with the Gryffindor crest; a lion in a most noble stance. Stupid Gryffindors, thought Draco to himself.

Snape emerged a few minutes later with the case of Polyjuice Potion refills for Draco.

"Now, I'm going to begin the work on next month's batch, but I will advise you to drink this in moderation. Do not stay up later than you need to or wake up earlier than you need to. There are still some minor side effects to this potion that I have yet to figure out. The less you have in your system, the better. Now, tell me Draco, how has everything been? We've yet to have a good talk about this topic, as I believe you have been avoiding it, but now I must know, how is life as a Gryffindor," inquired Snape almost cynically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Peachy."

"Hmm, is that so?"

"No. No, and you know it. I can't deal with Granger. She's always crying about stupid Potter and Weasley. She obviously misses them. Sometimes she even complains about me!" exclaimed Draco.

"You? Why you? Surely you have been an admirable Gryffindor?" Snape's voice stayed level, but his expression was mocking.

"Not Alexander. Me. Draco."

Snape now looked a bit amused, but he did not pry anymore. "I suppose you would like to Floo your mother?" Draco nodded. "Very well. We shall contact her through the fire place."

As soon as Snape had tossed the powder in and spoken her name, Malfoy's full body appeared out of the flames. She stepped out of the fire place, dusted herself off, and made a mad dash towards Draco. She seized his face in her hands and stroked his cheeks. It was as if he was never even disguised, but back to his normal self. Narcissa's eyes filled with tears and Snape momentarily stepped out of the room. She continued to stare at Draco.

"I miss you Draco. We miss you. It's been so difficult. The pressure that the Dark Lord has put on your father is too much for us to handle, especially with you gone. It pains me, Draco, in ways you cannot understand. I am just so grateful I was able to visit with you tonight. Oh…" and she broke out into sobs and held her son close. Draco patted his mother's back tenderly.

"I've missed you too, Mum. Tell father I say hello," whispered Draco.

He grabbed his mother's hand and escorted her back to the fireplace. She clung to him once more and whispered "I love you," before stepping back into the fireplace with her hand full of floo powder. Instantly she was gone, and a great wave of relief contaminated with sadness washed over Draco. At least she knows I am okay, he thought to himself. Snape stepped back into his office.

Draco finally reached his dorm a good fifteen minutes later. He immediately began work on his Ancient Runes translations, doing the ones he knew by heart and saving the ones he didn't for Granger. He was on the last translation when she came back. She had a pinkish tint to her cheeks and her wild curls were even wilder than usual, hanging prettily over her shoulders. She nearly glowed in the firelight and her eyes danced. Draco didn't mean to stare as long as he did, but she was looking almost radiant.

"Ah, excellent, you're back. I need some help with these translations."

She sat down next to him without an objection, and began to work. Soon she was finished and she looked up and smiled and Draco. He found himself returning the smile accidentally. As soon has he realized it though, he looked away.

"So, why are you so excited," he began.

"I'm just very happy, that's all. You see, my friends Ron and Harry, you know… the ones I've told you about? Right, well they've been on a… a journey trying to find these things that will help us to defeat the Dark Lord, and they've found one already! That's really all I can say, if you knew the circumstances better you'd understand, but unfortunately, that is not my information to reveal." Without thinking, Hermione patted Draco on the leg and stood up.

"Right, well… thank you for the help, I suppose," said Draco as he went into his bedroom. The potion would be wearing off in less than ten minutes. As he dressed for sleep, his curious mind wandered to the mission that Potty and the Weasel were on. Defeating the Dark Lord? Puh-lease, thought Draco, Potty defeating the Dark Lord was as likely as Draco ever falling in love with Hermione.

It was now around two o'clock in the morning. Draco woke suddenly with his thoat parched. He needed something to quench his thirst, and he needed it quick. What was this sudden thirst? Without thinking, he opened his bedroom door and creeped across the common room into his mini kitchenette. Without making any noise, he summoned a house-elf from the magical cabinet that led to the main kitchen and requested 3 glasses of ice cold water. The wait, which seemed like years, was intolerable. Draco sat, staring at the open cabinet waiting for the elf to return with glasses of ice cold water; condensation dripping down the sides. He was so thirsty that he believed that if he looked into the Mirror of Erised, he'd see himself surrounded by unlimited amounts of water. Soon the elf was back, and he drank all three glasses greedily. He shut the cabinet door softly in the elf's face and attempted to return to bed. Unfortunately, he had not noticed that Granger had fallen asleep on the sofa, her Arithmancy textbook open and sprawled across her chest. She looked cold, and Draco, in a spur of the moment, decided to cover her with blankets. As soon as the blankets hit her, however, she awoke with a start. Draco was so shocked by her sudden awakening that he was frozen in his tracks.

Groggily Hermione said, "What the-? Malfoy?"

Her eyes had finally adjusted to her surroundings and she stared. In what was supposed to be Alex's doorway stood none other than Draco Malfoy. Impossible, thought Hermione. She rubbed her eyes, but by the time she had pulled her hands away, Alex, or Malfoy, was gone, and she sat staring at his door until sleep overcame her again.

Draco stood on the other side of his door panting. Another close call. Granger had caught him this time. He got back into bed knowing full well that he would not be sleeping. No, instead, he'd spend the remainder of his night thinking up ideas to try and dissuade Granger of what she saw. He considered lying and denying, but the Mudblood was too smart for him. Instead, he settled with a memory charm.

Before he went back to sleep, he contemplated more lies. Then, when his eyes were more than ¾ of the way shut, he staggered back to where Granger was sleeping, pointed his wand and whispered, "Obliviate."

Yes, that should do the job nicely, he thought as the darkness of sleep took over his senses.