Disclaimer: I am not JKR, I get no money from this, and the fact that this is an unrealistic story of love between Hermione and Draco clearly makes it not JKR's brainchild.

Chapter 9

When Hermione woke up that morning the two decisions she'd made the night before gave her an instant headache, but she was determined to plug on. After a good night's rest, Hermione was able to see what a fool's decision it was to agree to see Draco so readily. It was simply something she would never, ever, do. But done it she had, and it had felt more right than any decision she had ever made in her life. She was terrified, that much was true, but she was still very interested in seeing where their relationship could go. She felt some indescribable pull towards Draco and was not sure if she even wanted to fight it.

However, telling Harry the truth about what happened to her filled her with trepidation. She could not shake the feeling that he would see her as flawed somehow after she told him. Or, if he did not see her as flawed, he would be angry, and she did not want to deal with that either; but she must. This was why Hermione was picking at her breakfast while Harry stared at her.

"Hermione, just tell me what you need to tell me. You had me up all night with worry, and now you are looking as if you are about to be led to the gallows. I assure you, whatever you have to say cannot be that bad," Harry said. He was tired; and unlike Hermione, a night's contemplation over her decision about Draco just made him angry. He did still care for Hermione, a part of him still wanted to be with her, and most of him was convinced Draco would just hurt her. Draco spared no second thoughts when he cast Eliza aside at the dinner party, and she was a lovely girl. Harry couldn't imagine Hermione faring any better.

Hermione dropped her toast back on her plate and brushed off her hands. "Okay, fine. You're right; I need to get this out, but don't interrupt me, please."

"When you found me, you were led to believe that the injuries I had on that day were the worst of them. If Dolohov and Goyle had survived I would have testified against them and the truth would have been out then, but I was relieved they were killed because it meant that I could keep my secret—"

Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, but Hermione shook her head and held up a hand to stop him.

"I didn't want anyone to know about this because I didn't know how they would feel about me afterwards, and I didn't want to answer any more questions about my personal life than necessary. I thought in the beginning that I was strong enough to deal with it on my own, but I guess I am really not." Hermione closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes again it was to see Harry frowning at her to continue. "Anyway, not only did they use the Cruciatus Curse and hit me, but they raped me."

Hermione said the last few words quickly and quietly. Harry leaned forward as if to hear better.

"What?"

"They raped me!" Hermione said loudly.

"Oh, I heard you the first time. I can't believe you would keep something like this from me! Don't you trust me at all?" Harry shouted as he stood up and started pacing around Hermione's little kitchen.

Hermione stared at him in shock. She was expecting him to react with anger, but towards her captors, not her.

"Of course I trust you, Harry," Hermione said uncertainly.

Harry rounded on her, his jaw clenched so tightly she was surprised she couldn't hear it cracking. "Oh, really? You trust me? That's why you kept this horrible thing bottled up inside for so long? That's why you let me help you? Is this why you don't want to be with me? Are you afraid that I'll find you repulsive because you're not a virgin anymore?"

"Yes, Harry. That is exactly what I thought. I thought you wouldn't want me. I thought I would not want another man to touch me. I was scared about people would think. And I didn't want you feeling like you needed to take revenge on the people who did it." Hermione had stood up and was pacing on the other side of the kitchen.

Harry stopped wearing a path on the tiles and turned towards her, his green eyes flashing. "They are dead already, Hermione, you should have been able to tell me."

He seemed to be calming down, but Hermione could feel the tension coming off of him in waves.

"I should have told you. I didn't tell anyone."

"What about Malfoy?"

"Tell me the truth, Harry. If you had known, and I had agreed to give a relationship with you a chance, would you have been afraid to touch me? Would you be worried about how I would react or if you were hurting me?" Hermione approached Harry slowly until she was only a few feet away from him. She was pleading with her eyes for him to be honest.

Harry did not say anything for a full minute. He dragged his hand down his face and let out a long breath before he finally spoke again. "You didn't answer my question. What about Malfoy?"

"Answer mine first," Hermione said, refusing to be swayed.

"I would have probably done some or all of the things you described," Harry said quietly. "What about Malfoy?"

"He already knows," Hermione said hoping sincerely that Harry would not fly off the handle again. "He was there, remember?"

Harry started pacing and sputtering again. "You mean, he saw?" he asked incredulously.

"No! Dolohov and Goyle were bragging about it and they expected him to do it as well. When they finally let us alone, Draco let me use his wand to heal some of the injuries," Hermione said.

"So, you couldn't even tell me, your best friend, but you not only talked to him about it right after it happened, but you want to date him too?" Harry asked. "I'm really confused, Hermione."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She simply turned away from him and sat back down. Part of her was relieved that she'd finally told Harry her secrets, but she was truly afraid that her reticence had caused a rift between them.

"Hermione, what's the deal with Malfoy? How could you trust him over me?"

Hermione's head snapped up. "I didn't discuss what happened with Draco. He knew, he offered his wand to heal myself, I accepted. He assured me it would not happen again, and he kept that promise. Why all of this animosity towards Draco all of a sudden, Harry? I was under the impression you were forming a friendship of sorts."

"Hermione..." Harry started before trailing off.

Hermione crossed her arms and waited for him to finish his response. When it was clear none was forthcoming, Hermione broke the silence.

"Harry, I can't explain what it is with Draco. I didn't have to tell him much of anything, and I guess the fact that he already knew made it easier for me. I did tell him I was a virgin beforehand, but he really didn't seem to care. I didn't want you to see me as weak, or not being able to handle what happened. It has happened to so many people before me; I could not justify wallowing in any type of misery, but it did affect me, and I'm glad I talked to Draco about it last night, and I am glad I told you. I feel a million times better already, even if you are angry at me for not bringing it up before." Hermione had stood and approached Harry again. She reached out and touched his chin forcing him to look at her. "I don't know what else to say, other than if you would keep this to yourself, I would appreciate it."

"I will keep it to myself, you have my word," Harry said as he gathered his coat and gloves. "But I am disappointed that you had no faith in me and kept this to yourself. I don't even know how to comfort you now; nothing I can think of to say or do feels appropriate. I'll see you later, good luck with Malfoy."

Hermione grasped Harry's arm before he could walk away from her. "Harry, you're my best friend, you can't possibly walk out on me now."

"The best friend you didn't trust enough to confide in, you mean," Harry spat back bitterly. "What do you want, Hermione? Do you want to me hold you, and comfort you, and tell you I'm sorry all this happened? Because you seem beyond that. You didn't tell me so that I could be there for you, you told me because you didn't like keeping this secret from me. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that's not true?"

Of course, Hermione could not, and Harry knew that. "You rejected me by not telling me in the first place, you rejected me again when I wanted to pursue a relationship with you, as disastrous as that might have been, and that really hurts, Hermione. I put my heart out there, and you hid yours from me. I will talk to you again soon."

Hermione watched incredulously as Harry left. It was not until the last crackle of flame disappeared from the Floo did Hermione allow the tears to fall. Harry was absolutely right about one thing: too much time had passed for him to offer the kind of comfort she might have been seeking had she gone to him right away. Surprisingly, she was not upset for her sake. Harry knew her well enough that she did not want platitudes from him. Hermione did not need someone to tell her everything was going to be all right because she already knew that. But she did hurt Harry, however inadvertently, and she was going to have to live with that. She also suspected he was jealous of Malfoy, and there was nothing she could do about that but give him time to get over it. Hermione threw her face down in the pillows of her couch and pounded the fluffy things in frustration. Crookshanks gave a mew of discontent and waddled into Hermione's bedroom.

"Why can't my life just be normal?" Hermione asked her empty apartment.

Draco hummed happily to himself as he reclined behind his desk revising his notes on the Ankh. He was being completely truthful when he'd told Hermione that he wanted to tell her the story behind it on their first date. If any person on earth would appreciate that for what it was, it had to be the studious Granger. On his first date with Eliza they had gotten drunk and naked before any real conversation could take place. That was unsurprising considering he had allowed himself to be dragged to one of her friends' parties at her University for the date. Draco felt slightly guilty for throwing her over so efficiently the previous evening, but the guilt was quickly washed away with relief. He knew that if he hadn't allowed his impulses with Hermione to take over, he would probably continue to court and eventually marry Eliza because it was the proper thing to do, and she was a good person. His profound relief only exacerbated how cumbersome their relationship would have been had he stuck with it.

Draco shuffled his carefully organised notes into a tidy pile and slipped them in a slim briefcase. He added a small stack of drawings of King Tut's Ankh before clasping it shut and laying it aside. Picking up a newspaper clipping that was worn with handling, Draco stared at the smiling face of Hermione Granger. It was the picture taken of her right before she disappeared at the benefit and Draco pondered how long it would be before her eyes lit up like that again. He could not in all honesty say he was not moved by her beauty that evening, but he was distracted by Eliza and thoroughly convinced she was with Potter. It was easy to cast thoughts of her aside that evening and the way he felt that he couldn't possibly live without her now mystified him. The feeling was unexpectedly pleasant.

The only concern Draco had now was whether Hermione was going to be agreeable to the fact that he planned to tarry off and search for the elusive Ankh immediately. Eliza was not unsupportive of him leaving to find it, but she always maintained the valid argument that she would be leaving to finish school in America and therefore he could search for it after she left. Pursuing a relationship with Hermione at the same time he broke off another whilst simultaneously looking for his artefact was probably not rational from an outside view, but it was what he needed to do. The reasoning was just as elusive to him as ever, but he was sure in his decision. If anything, the trip would be for his own peace of mind. He had spent years putting together the little bits of history that tied the Ankh directly to King Tut. His education in magical history did not reach further than the founding of Hogwarts, and while he knew that there was clearly magic before that, finding tangible proof of it from over three thousand years ago would be a boon for his collection, and his ego. It was eccentric perhaps, but it was his obsession.

Checking the contents of his case one last time, Draco gathered his jacket and some flowers and left his office to go pick up Hermione. He had told her to be ready at three in the afternoon, which meant they would have tea and talk first thing. If she was receptive to the idea he planned to finish the evening by showing her his personal store of items he had collected over the years. He had an amazing collection of rare books with many of them signed; he thought it might impress her. Perhaps he might even allow her to touch some of them, something no one had done before, not even his employees. Draco was adamant about that and trusted no one but himself with his most precious pieces, and those included books.

The nerves did not register in Draco's gut until he was crunching his way through the half melted snow leading up to Hermione's stoop. All of a sudden he was afraid that despite her career she might not be as interested in his somewhat academic pursuits. As a student she probably would have been thrilled to learn everything Draco wanted to share with her now, but what if she was sick of research like Eliza was because of her job and didn't want to discuss it? No, Draco said sharply to himself, she was interested, and we will talk about other things besides my work and hers. She just needs to know so she understands why I want to leave now to find it.

Resolved, Draco reached up ring the bell just as Hermione threw open the door and stepped back to let him in, smiling shyly. She was dressed in blue robes that were cut to fit around her feminine curves prettily and looked like they would be smooth to the touch. Draco could not help but notice that her eyes were slightly red-rimmed as if she had spent a good portion of her day crying. He felt an odd flopping sensation in his stomach that he dimly registered as genuine concern for how she was feeling.

"Are you alright?" he blurted before either of them could even properly say hello.

Hermione looked momentarily stunned before she self-consciously touched the corner of her eye. "I am fine, really."

Draco continued on like an idiot. "Are you sure? You look like you have been crying."

This time Draco squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head skyward for a moment, clearly embarrassed. Hermione actually gave a small laugh.

"Forgive me Hermione, I am being a complete classless prat," Draco stated as he thrust the mixed bouquet towards her. "Hello, it is wonderful to see you, these are for you."

"Hello to you too," Hermione replied cheerfully playing along, her heart thumping loudly. Having him there in her living room acting like a nervous teenager was making her positively giddy and her earlier bad mood dissipated. Eying the case in his other hand, Hermione hoped it contained the notes about the artefact he was looking for. "These are beautiful, let me just go put them in a vase."

Hermione smiled at him once more before she retrieved a vase from the kitchen, filled it with a little water, and placed a stasis charm on the flowers so that they would continue to live. The charm made the water unnecessary, but she liked them to look more natural. Draco smiled when she arranged the flowers on the centre of her mantelpiece. When she was finished she turned to Draco, who was rocking back and forth from the heels to the balls of his feet. Hermione thought the movement was slightly endearing. His nervousness went a long way in easing her own.

"In answer to your earlier question, I am truly all right now, but I was upset because of an argument I had earlier with Harry," Hermione volunteered.

Draco frowned at her words. "Potter?"

"Yes, I took your advice and told him about what happened to me, and well, let's just say he was quite upset that I was not as forthcoming with the information as I should have been when it actually happened."

Draco's frown deepened as he took a step towards her and reached for her hand. "Hermione, it is entirely up to you to decide whom you tell and when, he has no right to be angry."

Hermione appeared to mull over his words for a moment before responding. "Actually, I think Harry's reaction was quite justified in this case. He knew I was just telling him to get it off of my chest and not because I wanted his help through it, and that hurt him. Combine that with my breaking up with him and immediately starting – uh, starting something with you and he was pushed just a little too far."

Draco said nothing and was slightly disappointed when Hermione squeezed his hand but then let it go.

"I really do not want to talk about Harry right now though, if that is all right. You look nice, Draco. Are we going someplace Muggle? Should I change?" Hermione felt slightly overdressed compared to Draco, who was wearing dark blue jeans and a grey sweater underneath his black coat.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek and mentally admonished himself for not complimenting her on how she looked already, but shook his head. "We can do Wizarding world. You look very nice and I would hate for you to change."

Smooth Draco, once the king of cool and now you're the village idiot.

"Great, shall we then?" Hermione wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and looked at Draco uncertainly. "Where to?"

"Tea, your choice."

Twenty minutes later Hermione and Draco were both tucked into a cosy booth in the corner of the pub, sandwiches and butterbeers already on the table. For a few minutes they both talked about mundane work details while they ate. Is work busy right now? How are the children faring in the new ward? What is your busiest time of year, etc. When they both were finished eating and sipping tea the conversation lulled and they both were careful to look around the room and at their drinks but not at each other. After the third time of looking into Draco's eyes and then quickly away again, Hermione laughed and broke the silence.

"I feel like this is the first date I have ever been on and I don't want the bloke to see how much I like him because I don't want to seem desperate," Hermione admitted blushing prettily.

Draco let out a huge breath. "Thank Merlin because I feel the same way. I have to admit that I have been dying to talk to you about the Ankh, but I have convinced myself you won't be that interested. Past experience has taught me that most people don't believe in it like I do."

"Well, I am not most people and history fascinates me. Why don't you try me?"

Draco took a long sip of his tea and settled back in his seat to tell his story. "I am going to give you the short version right now, and if you want more details I have my notes. I assume you know who King Tutankhamen was?"

Hermione nodded.

"So you know then that he became a king at age eight and was dead by nineteen. His tomb is near Luxor, Egypt and contains over five thousand artefacts. Many Muggle scientists and curious wizards have dug through what they believe to be every square inch of that tomb, and perhaps they have, since it was first discovered in 1922. I doubt that many wizards could have looked very deeply because if what I am looking for truly exists, then none have really looked, like I said before. Bill Weasley confirmed this when I asked him what he knew of the tomb's contents, and he told me that there were curses in there that he hasn't tried to break, and the place gives him an ominous feeling. I have visited it once without going in, and it does feel ominous." Draco stopped talking as Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

"Why didn't you go in?"

"I don't know. It was a pull, something told me stay out. In exactly the same way I feel compelled to be with you, I felt compelled to not go in."

Hermione blushed again when he said he felt compelled to be with her, but just nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Anyway, the Muggles have determined that King Tut died at nineteen. Originally the theory was that he was murdered via head bludgeoning, but then later determined he had a broken leg that contained dislodged bone and caused an infection. Therefore, they believe he died from it because they found bits of splintered bone in the mummy. I have reason to believe that he was murdered and he did suffer from head wounds and broken bones, but that is not what killed him. His principle enemies were the Nubians, the Hittites, and the Libyans. The magical Nubians, now Sudanese, as you may already know, tend to live very secretly. In the last battle King Tut fought in, he fell from his chariot and was dragged away by a Nubian soldier I believe to be called Alara. There was also a Nubian king named Alara that I believe may be the same man."

Hermione gasped, "But they lived hundreds of years apart! Alara was much after King Tut!"

Draco grinned broadly at Hermione's historical knowledge. "That's correct, but you'll see where I'm going with this in a moment. Alara was the first Nubian king in the Kingdom of Kush, or what is known today as Sudan. Alara was a remarkable soldier that was noted for his talent with torture and healing, at least according to his journals that I have been able unearth and translate. He was very magically powerful, and according to legends that we don't read in school so was the Pharaoh King Tut. Tut was proving to be so magically gifted that Alara recognised his abilities as a threat to the Nubians, and was tasked to eliminate him because he alone might have powers to equal that of the young King Tut, but that is a long story for another time. But Alara had other plans: it was Alara's removal of King Tut's magical core that ultimately killed him."

Draco paused to take another drink of his stone -cold tea. Hermione was staring at him with her mouth slightly open. "So you believe that his magical core is stored in the Ankh? And that the Ankh is what is giving off the ominous feeling because it is dark magic?"

"Close. I do believe his core is stored in the Ankh. I think the Ankh was always a possession of Alara's. I call it King Tut's Ankh simply because it contains his magical core. The journals I have unearthed confirm this. They also confirm that Alara was a very capable dark wizard who would have been the envy of the Grindelwalds and Voldemorts of our time. Only Salazar Slytherin seemed to have some sort of notion of him though; it was Slytherin's journals that led me to hunt down Alara's. The details regarding how I got them are irrelevant right now; we can talk about that later. In any case, if Voldemort had figured out how to do this, we would be in serious trouble, but I believe that Alara used the magic in the Ankh combined with horcruxes to keep his body alive for a very long time. The strength of Tut's magical core combined with his own allowed him to live for several hundred years rather than the one to two hundred that wizards are capable of living." Draco stopped talking once more and looked at Hermione expectantly.

"How do you suppose he died then?" Draco's eyes were bright and sparkling with excitement and Hermione found herself enjoying every moment of his enthusiasm. His passion was bleeding over into her and she found herself completely immersed in his story.

"The second king of Nubia, Kashta, took the Ankh from him. Stored with Alara's perfectly preserved journals was a missive written by Kashta explaining what he'd done and why. He ended with a plea for whoever discovers this dark and terrible magic to destroy the journals that teach them how to capture a core and live off it, but not his details on how to break the curse if someone figures it out. The journals also describe in a series runes and riddles where the Ankh is hidden in King Tut's tomb. It's buried underneath it, quite deeply, put there by Kashta himself, and just far enough to be out of reach for a magical register unless you are looking for it specifically."

Hermione interrupted again. "So you have the journals that describe how to do this magic? That's terrible."

"No, Hermione. That information is buried with the Ankh, according to Kashta's writings. I have solved the riddles leading to where it is over a year ago, but fear of failure, finding it was all an elaborate myth, has kept me from seeking it. I believe it is there just as strongly as I fear that it isn't, and the ridicule I have received from friends and colleagues alike over my obsession would be too much to bear if I was wrong."

"But you don't believe you are." It was not a question.

"No."

"Are you going to follow Kashta's advice and destroy the documents when you find them?"

Draco's heart soared at Hermione's optimistic use of the word 'when' rather than 'if'.

"I am afraid that the documents have some sort of magic in them that would try to persuade the finder not to destroy them. I believe that is why Kashta did not. Fortunately Bill helped me with that fact as well. He said it is common in the curse-breaking industry to come across dark items that don't want to be destroyed. He led me to some excellent resources that discussed countering such curses and charms, surreptitiously of course, because that knowledge is only privy to Goblins and their human curse-breakers like Bill," Draco replied.

"But you are prepared to destroy them?"

"I have every intention of destroying them, no matter how much it pains me to do so. I don't want to use the magic in them, Hermione. I am not a dark wizard," Draco stated vehemently.

Hermione cringed slightly, "I know you're not. I just don't want them in the wrong hands, ever. I think they should be destroyed just as Kashta wants."

"As do I," Draco replied seriously.

"Then I think you need to find this thing."

Draco couldn't help himself. He stood up and leaned over the table to plant a warm kiss on Hermione's lips before backing up. "I knew you'd understand."

Hermione touched her lips, dazed, as Draco pulled out his notes and drawings and proceeded to list out in great detail his exact plans for retrieving the Ankh. They never made it to see Draco's book collection and by the end of the evening Hermione was just as excited for Draco's impending trip as he was, her only regret being that she could not go with him due to work. But she made him promise that if she could be of any magical assistance once he located the items he wanted he would contact her immediately.

Draco brought Hermione safely home after finalising his plans to leave in one week's time with Bill Weasley as company for his interest and experience, but also because Draco had developed a friendship with the man since Ron had suggested Draco seek him out for advice on the topic. Hermione was supremely relieved that Draco would not be going to the trip alone.

Just before Draco left, he leaned down to give Hermione a long and lingering kiss. His mouth was so sweet, soft, and warm Hermione found herself comparing it to crème brulee. The kiss made Hermione's knees go weak and the distinctively female part of her ached for more in a way that was new and thrilling to her. Draco's eyes were clouded and his face was slightly flushed when he pulled away, tracing a finger across her jaw and over her swollen lips.

"Hermione," he breathed before leaning in to kiss her again.

Hermione was near panting when he broke away the second time.

"I should go," Draco said reluctantly backing away. "Can I see you tomorrow when you get off work?"

"I don't think I could stand it if you didn't," Hermione replied honestly not caring how it sounded.

Draco stepped closer, kissed her quickly on the forehead, and then disappeared through the Floo with a smile that Hermione would not soon forget.

A/N: So sorry for the long delay in updating! I was in a bit of writer's funk, first I had writer's block, and then I decided that nobody cared about story anyway, and then I decided that I care and I want to finish it. Then I got busy with work, and so on and so forth. So here is the next chapter. For those of you who had this story on alert, I am very sorry I took so long to update and I hope you can forgive me the delay. I really do appreciate my readers! I really appreciate reviews too!

The history of King Tut, Kashta, and Alara is made up. They were all very real people, but for my fic I am using them in name only. Some details of the brief history Draco described are based on facts, but most of it isn't. I plan to focus less on the back story of the Ankh now and more on Dramione and Draco's search for it, but if there some details you think are important that I should add to the story let me know!

Chapter is beta'd by the awesome blueskyshymoon-olgameisterfunk who is like one of the coolest people ever. Try saying her penname three times fast.