Chapter 1

The Unbreakable Vow

Gryffindor versus Slytherin was always a vicious match. Hermione didn't particularly care for Quidditch, but she turned up at every game to support Harry and Ron. She thought that perhaps they'd appreciate her for it. They knew she didn't like Quidditch, but she was still there for them every time. She had screamed herself hoarse in support. Gryffindor had won the match, and afterward, Hermione had been looking forward to celebrating with Ron and Harry. But, at the celebration in the Common Room, Ron had ended up snogging Lavender Brown in a corner. Hermione was angry, and if she were honest with herself, a little bit heartbroken as well. She felt ignored and ugly. Neither Harry nor Ron ever saw her as a girl. While she'd had such a crush on Harry for their first few years at Hogwarts, over time, their relationship had become much more like brother and sister, so Ron seemed like a good alternative. Ron, who was currently tongue deep in Lavender Brown's mouth.

Hermione wasn't even sure she liked Ron in that way. Ron was loud and funny and reckless and simply awful at schoolwork. Her complete opposite in nearly every way. She wasn't even sure she wanted to date him, but it still pained her that she had been so thoroughly ignored. Angry and frustrated, Hermione grabbed a Quaffle that Fred and George Weasley had stolen from the pitch, marched out of the Gryffindor Common Room, and headed straight out to the grounds to return the Quaffle to its rightful place.

She walked across the dark grounds, wand lit before her, and headed to the storage shed where the spare brooms and Quidditch balls were kept, muttering angrily to herself all the way. Boys were infuriating. Hermione had to push the door to the shed open with her shoulder, as though something were behind it, but it suddenly gave way and she flew into the room. Regaining her balance, she looked up and locked eyes with none other than Draco Malfoy. She blanched. He was still dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch robes, his elbow and knee guards making him look broader and bulkier than usual.

"Granger!" he hissed, his face in a sneer. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing back this Quaffle," she said in the most confident voice she could muster. "What's the matter? Upset that Harry caught the Snitch?"

He scoffed. That's when she noticed his face was puffy and his cheeks were . . . tear streaked? His eyes were red, and he was wiping at them hastily. She knitted her eyebrows together. She'd seen Malfoy sneer, seen him whine, seen him mock and belittle, but she'd never seen him cry before.

"Malfoy, seriously. What's wrong?" she said.

"Why would you care, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Hermione recoiled. Spinning on her heel, she walked to the back corner of the closet to put away the Quaffle.

"I-" she heard his voice say, "I'm sorry."

Her jaw fell open and she turned to face him. He'd never apologized to her before, neither for the most egregious things he'd done nor for the most trivial.

"Malfoy," she said, in shock. "What's the matter?!"

Malfoy buried his face in his hands. He was so different this year. Normally, she found Malfoy to be an irritating but ever-present part of her life at Hogwarts, but this year, he had been much quieter. Come to think of it, this was the first time all year he'd called her Mudblood, which had to be some kind of record. Looking at Malfoy, she actually felt a bit sorry for him. He was threading his hands in his hair, and she saw him swallow back a sob. She took a half step toward him, still tense and waiting for him to lash out again. And yet, something about his demeanor kept her from walking away. Something was tormenting him, and she had a feeling it wasn't Quidditch.

"Can you tell someone?" she asked cautiously.

"Like who?" he snarled as he lifted his face to her. His platinum blonde hair was messy, and his grey eyes were defiant.

"A teacher?" Hermione suggested.

He scoffed.

"Your friends?" she asked.

He scoffed again, burying his face in his hands once more in defeat.

"How about your parents?" Hermione said, wincing to think of the Malfoy family and still wondering why she suddenly felt so drawn to helping him.

"They know," he choked out. "They bloody know."

There was a pause.

"How about me?" she ventured.

His eyes snapped up to hers as though he were about to call her Mudblood again, but he seemed to think better of it. Malfoy sank down onto the floor, and Hermione slowly did the same. He sat on one side of the small room, desperately holding back tears, and she said opposite him, her hands resting on her knees as she watched him. They sat there, in silence, surrounded by Quidditch equipment. He lifted his face again, his jaw clenched and his face a mask of indifference.

"It's awful," he whispered.

"You can tell me," she said quietly.

Malfoy met her gaze irritably. His face seemed to dare her to be stupid enough not to realize what was happening in the Wizarding world, not to realize why he could most certainly not tell her. But before he could spit out an insult, she began speaking again.

"I can keep a secret," she pushed.

"You wouldn't keep this one," he said impatiently. "You shouldn't."

Hermione gazed at him, considering.

"What if I made a promise to keep it? An unbreakable promise?"

Malfoy's eyes snapped up to hers.

"An Unbreakable Vow?" he asked skeptically.

She nodded, biting her lip.

"You'd make an Unbreakable Vow not to tell anyone my secret?" he said.

She nodded again with a confidence she didn't feel.

"Why?" he scoffed.

Hermione looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Probably because I really treasure our friendship," she said dryly.

Malfoy snorted a laugh, and she noticed that it was a real laugh. It wasn't a scoff or sneer or a haughty snigger. It was a proper laugh. She didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh before. She found herself grinning at him.

"Malfoy, I won't pretend we've ever been friends, but it's all been sort of childish stuff, you know? You call me 'Mudblood' and I slap you in the face," she said, and at this, he seemed to be smiling despite himself. "That sort of thing. But this? This seems… this seems more real. Whatever is going on with you, it's bad enough that you're crying about it-"

"I'm not crying," he spat.

"And you obviously haven't got anyone at all to talk to about it, so I'm offering you a deal," she said resolutely. "I'll make the Unbreakable Vow not to reveal your secrets to anyone, and in exchange, you let me try to talk you out of it."

"Talk me out of it?" asked Malfoy.

"Talk you out of it. Whatever it is that's got you like… like all this," she said, indicating in his general direction.

Malfoy sat, back against the wall of the shed, for a long time, considering her words.

"I can't believe Potter caught the sodding Snitch today," he said dully.

"I can," said Hermione.

"Does he ever lose?" asked Malfoy, his grey eyes looking up at hers.

"Nope," she responded immediately.

His head had fallen against the wall and his gaze was fixed on a point on the ceiling. Hermione waited, though it killed her. She wanted to ask more questions, to be more insistent, to make her case, but she had a feeling he couldn't simply be argued into submission. So, she waited. It was a long time in silence. She found herself fussing with the laces of her shoe and almost forgetting where she was until his drawling voice jolted her back to attention.

"So you'll make an Unbreakable Vow to keep secret anything I tell you while we're in this shed," said Malfoy seriously.

Hermione nodded.

"And in exchange, I just have to listen to your ineffective attempts to talk me out of all of it?" he added.

Hermione snorted a laugh but nodded again. He stared at her for a long moment, his grey eyes contemplative.

"Alright, let's do it," he said. "Who's going to cast it for us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean who's going to be the third party required to cast the Unbreakable Vow?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy, do you even read?"

He raised a pale blonde eyebrow.

"What good would a vow to keep a secret be if a third party had to be around to cast it?" she said. "As long as it's only to keep a secret between two people, the Unbreakable Vow doesn't need a third person to cast."

Malfoy inclined his head, conceding the point.

"Do you know how to cast it?" he asked.

She gave a little tut and stood, motioning for him to do the same. With a gruff exhale, he pulled himself off the floor, still dressed in his bulky Quidditch gear. She stood in front of him and their eyes met for a moment, skepticism in both of their expressions. Hermione realized that to cast the Unbreakable Vow, she was going to have to touch him, something she had never done save for the aforementioned slap.

"Erm," she said. "I'll need your hand."

Malfoy chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, and she thought he might lose his nerve, but he extended a hand in front of her.

"Your left hand, actually," she said.

Malfoy's expression became fierce, and he stormed away from her.

"Oh, sure, yes, very convenient," spat Malfoy. "Got to take a closer look at my left hand to cast the charm. Sure."

For a moment, Hermione felt like she'd just been hit with a Stunning Spell.

"You know, for a few minutes, you really had me going," he said, pacing the room frantically. "Sweet little Mudblood, trying to help out poor Draco Malfoy. I can't believe I thought you were serious."

"I am serious," she said confusedly.

"Sure," said Malfoy with an eye roll. "And then in a heartbeat, you'll have my sleeve up to my elbow so you can see the-"

He stopped speaking and set his jaw, standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"See the what?"

He didn't answer.

"See the what, Malfoy?" Hermione pressed, her voice serious.

Malfoy gave a great exhale in frustration, threading his hands in his blonde hair and turning away from her. She waited again. He seemed to be weighing his options, some great battle taking place in his mind. Finally, he spoke.

"Just the hand?"

"What?"

"You just need my hand? Not my arm?" Malfoy said.

"Oh. Yes. Just the hand."

He turned to look at her, his grey eyes looking different than they ever had. They looked… trusting. He held out his left hand. Hermione slowly lifted her own left hand, hesitating for a moment, and then, she lay her hand on top of his. His skin was soft, and she wasn't sure why she was so surprised to find him so warm to the touch. Somehow, she'd been expecting him to be ice cold. The charm wasn't difficult to cast, and soon, her wand was ready to bind their hands with gold tendrils. She almost lost her nerve. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all…

"Do you vow to keep everything I say to you while we're in this Quidditch shed a complete secret?" said Malfoy quietly. "Anything we say, anything we see, and anything we do in this shed will remain a secret only between us?"

Hermione's mind was racing. She didn't know if she should do this. Malfoy was her enemy! How could he be trusted? What if he told her something she simply couldn't keep secret? What if he was planning to do something atrocious, like… like murdering Harry?

Well, he was going to be planning it whether he told her or not.

"In exchange for your promise that you'll let me try to talk you out of it?" she asked.

"In exchange for that," he said.

"I vow it."

A thin, gold wire flew from the tip of her wand. It encircled their hands for a moment and then disappeared. It was done. Malfoy dropped his hand from hers immediately.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore."