Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter, except those that clearly aren't from J.K. Rowling's stories. And since I expect anyone reading this by now to be a complete HP aficionado, I'm sure you'll know which ones they are.

Chapter 7 — Confusion

True to Malfoy's word, Hermione awoke the next morning to find her wand lying on her windowsill, A stray owl feather rested nearby.

She picked up her wand tentatively, then with a firm scowl of resolve, shoved it into her pocket and stalked off to breakfast. She would put last night out of her mind and if Malfoy dared to bring it up to anyone at all, she would hex him into the next dimension, imperioused Harry or no.

Nevertheless, Hermione was mildly surprised no whispers suddenly ceased as she entered the Great Hall and that no one cast furtive looks in her direction as she ate. Malfoy obviously hadn't told anyone. Yet.

Well, why would he? Hermione thought, irritably. That would mean admitting he had kissed a Mudblood. Just imagine how the other Slytherins would react! She paused mid-bite into her cinnamon toast, her lips curving up in a small smile of pleasure at the thought. No, Malfoy was probably just as eager to forget the experience as she was.

But then why did she feel Malfoy's eyes on her the entire time she was eating? True, the one time she dared sneak a look, he was talking quietly to the boy sitting next to him, but years of enduring Malfoy's taunts made her neck prickle in warning whenever he cast a look in her direction.

He's probably trying to make me nervous. Well, I won't give him the satisfaction!

Hermione stuffed the rest of her toast into her mouth and sauntered as casually as she could out of the hall.

While the lack of student reaction to her presence relieved the girl immensely, another lack of reaction left her completely puzzled. To Hermione's surprise, most of the students (with the obvious exception of Ron) didn't seem at all upset by Harry's disappearance. Confused, Hermione sought out Parvati in Herbology. That girl was a gossip machine; if anyone would know the reason, she would.

"Well, we all knew he was going to go after Voldemort at some point. I mean, duh, he's the Boy Who Lived!" Parvati explained as they plucked the petals from an Astragalus plant. "I'm actually surprised he waited this long. Wasn't he was going to leave right after Snape killed Dumbledore? That slimy old git. Who would have thought he had it in him?"

Hermione nodded mutely. Parvati had just reminded her about something she had almost forgotten in her concern over Malfoy — Voldemort. He was getting more and more powerful, and soon there was going to be a great confrontation between the light side and the dark. When that happened, Voldemort had to be vulnerable. It was their only chance. With Harry temporarily out of the picture, that left Hermione with only one option — she would have to find the Horcruxes herself.

-:-+-:-+-:-+-:-

Draco snapped out of his reverie to find that his porridge was cold and that he had been looking at Granger. Again. I'm becoming positively fixated, he thought in disgust. She's a Mudblood for crying out loud!

He paused thoughtfully and rolled the word over in his mouth. Mudblood. It was like any other slur — use it enough, and loses much of its meaning. And Draco had used it many time over the last few years where a certain bushy-haired know-it-all was concerned.

He shook his head and bent over his porridge

"So, Draco, what do you think of those two as replacements? Harris and Lolt?"

"Wha–who?" Draco asked, confused.

"The fourth years! You know, Quiddich? Honestly man, what's wrong with you? Your head's been in the clouds all morning," Blaise exclaimed.

"I'm not sure," Draco said, truthfully. He stared at his cold meal with repulsion and stood up. "Look, I'll see you in class, all right? I've gotta go."

Blaise watched him leave, a contemplative look on his face.

-:-+-:-+-:-+-:-

By mutual unspoken consent, Malfoy and Hermione went out of their way to avoid each other over the next few days. Whenever the two teenagers did meet, it was with a scathing exchange that sent the people around them ducking for cover.

Potter still followed Draco everywhere, but the boy had gotten used to his dark shadow and to his surprise, at times even felt an amiable tolerance toward the beast.

Don't be absurd, it's still Potter, he told himself, watching the cat play with his shoelaces one night in his room. But it was getting harder and harder to remember that, since the cat certainly didn't act like a boy. It acted like, well, a cat.

Several times, Draco seriously considered allowing Potter to change back into his normal, ugly self, and remove the curse. But then he remembered all the times that Potter and his friends had made his life miserable over the years — turning down his offer of friendship and embarrassing him in front of the entire first year. Not to mention that whole affair with the ferret; Draco still had nightmares about that day. Besides, what would he do if Potter suddenly became human again? There was no way he'd be able to hide the truth that he had essentially kidnapped a fellow student and kept him under the Imperius curse for a week. He would be out of Hogwarts in as much time as it took the teachers to break his wand. And as much as he hated to admit it, he needed the protection that Hogwarts afforded. If Voldemort had been angry with him before over Dumbledore's death, his wrath would be deadly once he knew that Draco had the opportunity to bring him Potter, and hadn't.

But that line of thinking brought his thoughts too close to the possibility that he should just give Potter over to the Dark Lord and redeem himself in his eyes. Lucrative though that option seemed, the rewards would only last until the next time he failed Voldemort, and without Potter to forestall him, there would be no stopping the Dark One. Draco would be signing his own death warrant the instant he handed Potter over.

"I guess you'll just have to stay a cat," he said pensively. "I hope you like mice."

-:-+-:-+-:-+-:-

Draco had never been much for friends, but as the debate over what to do with Potter raged in his mind, he found that he was avoiding his compatriots more than usual. After seven years, their bumbling, acrid company was starting to wear thin; but more to the point, several of them were rather skilled Legilimens. Although Draco himself had long since mastered the art of Occlumancy, he didn't want to risk one of them picking up on his turbulent thoughts.

So it surprised him one night to hear the low mumble of his housemates in urgent conversation as he was coming down from the Astronomy Tower. It was after midnight — why were they skulking around the Hogwarts corridors? He was about to yell down to them when some instinct warned him not to. Instead he crept closer, careful to always stay one flight above them.

"Magnifico," he hissed. Their voices suddenly became piercingly clear.

"—hate meeting like this. What if we get caught?"

"There is no reward without risk," a cold voice replied. Goyle, Draco thought with surprise.

"I don't see why we have to be there. This doesn't pertain to us."

"It's a warning to anyone who might fail the Dark Lord," a third voice spoke up.

"Yes, but then why isn't he—"

"He is not to know, that is all. Whatever the Dark Lord's plans are, they are for us to follow, not question."

"But—"

"Enough!" That was Goyle again. Draco's eyebrows raised a full inch. When did his idiot bodyguard become so commanding? "We will all of us be there. That is final."

Heavy footsteps indicated that the meeting was breaking up. Draco stood in pensive silence for a minute before taking a circuitous route back to his room.

If Draco noticed that Crabbe and Goyle failed to lock their brooms away after Quiddich practice the next day, he gave no sign. But that night when several hooded students crept out of the common room and up to the Astronomy tower, Draco, safely hidden beneath Potter's invisibility cloak, followed.

Chapter 7 Summary:

Draco and Hermione avoid each other, and Draco learns of a secret Death Eater meeting.