A/N: Well, here it is at last.Thanks for the support in the nominations! Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Stolen

Chapter 16: Halloween

Hermione saw Harry and Ron often in the hallways. They looked at her with concern and some kind of longing. She looked away. She could not bear to see their faces and pass by without following after them. The sight of them slowed her steps and she grew quiet for hours afterwards. This seemed to agitate Draco, who was resentful of them and her strong desire to spend time with them. She, however, could say nothing of his put out mood, as she was bristly all day if he spoke to Pansy. She missed them terribly though, as she said to herself at least a hundred times a day, though it did no good.

Occasionally, she would turn to her left or right to say something to one of them, but they weren't there. At these times, Draco would look at her oddly until she turned back around, looking grim. Many times, after a class, she would catch herself heading towards Gryffindor tower rather than Ravenclaw. Slowly, it was driving her mad and it was a Thursday when she made a very foolish decision. She had to see them. In fact, she told her self, she should have done it weeks ago.

Draco was planning to be out late the next evening, leaving right after dinner. She could then send word through Dobby the house elf for her friends to meet her in the room of requirement. At last, she was back being her former self- a mastermind of plots and schemes for the three of them. She finished her homework early and remained quiet until Draco left. He glanced at her oddly when she gave no signs of protest, but she did not acknowledge his glances.

She was free to roam the castle as she wished, so as long as now one saw her enter the room and she was back before Draco it should not be a problem. In the hallways, she was cautious anyway; weary of meeting someone who may be suspicious, like Snape. Luckily, she did not run into anyone. Entering the Room of Requirement as inconspicuously as one could, a smile graced her features and its appearance made her realize how long it had been since one had been seen there. An explosion met her as the door closed with a thud behind her, an explosion of color and noise.

Streamers and confetti fell from the ceiling in masses that covered her clothes and got mixed in her hair. She laughed and blinked through the joyful mess as a cheer rose up from Harry and Ron. Big band swing music blared from a wireless in the back of the room. In the center of the room there was a plain wooden table with three chairs, covered in snacks an a few more decorations. A huge, tattered Gryffindor banner hung from the ceiling. A fireplace, identical to the one in the tower, was on one wall of the room and a board from the D.A. at the back. Hugging them both, she moved towards the radio where the music was coming from and as the music changed from the upbeat "In the Mood" to something slow and smooth she read everything on the board as her friends told her of their progress and how much they all missed her.

She was impressed with what Harry had accomplished and let him know it. Of course, she had always recognized that he had tremendous potential as a teacher. Apparently, he had since thrown himself completely into training his fellow classmates, though meeting had become more difficult for them as they were all spread about the castle now. Ron mocked that Harry had turned into her by studying, what Ron considered to be, more than necessary. She did not find any studying to be superfluous, especially in Harry's situation. He would need to know all that Hogwarts could teach him.

Ron and Harry too had been practicing their dueling, in addition to making a more thorough map of the grounds of the castle. With Lupin's instruction, the boys had begun mapping out the forest as well, which Hermione agreed could come in handy. Neville as well had become surprisingly determined, making drastic improvement. At this rate they hoped they could manage to make the whole D.A. into illegal animagi by the end of the year, if Voldemort would allow them that long. Ron had been working harder in his classes now that Hermione wasn't there to save him, but History of Magic was still, as he so eloquently put it, 'the pits' and he needed her back desperately.

The old friends had themselves a little tea as they chatted away about the recent news, the new school practices, Hagrid and Grawp, and, of course, the Order. From those sources, for Malfoy's perplexing behavior was anything but helpful, they tried to surmise what Voldemort was up to.

"I've been reading up as much as I can to find out further location of the other possible Horcruxes, but I haven't had much luck in the library. I figured ordering anything would be difficult as I don't really know what to order, and, if I did, that would call attention to myself." Harry informed her.

Hermione snorted her into tea. "I think that may be because I have the books you're looking for: Slytherin fact and fiction, pure-blood histories, Hogwarts relics and such." She offered them a synopsis of what she had learned, though admittedly that was little, and they discussed the matter further.

"Well we know there is the ring which Dumbledore destroyed, the locket which has already been destroyed by- apparently- Sirius' brother, one was the diary Harry stabbed in second year, the cup belonging to Hufflepuff which is somewhere, and we can assume he also has something of Gryffindor's and Ravenclaws."

"What is the seventh though?" Harry queried for the millionth time. "Dumbledore said he would have made seven since that's the most powerful magical number."

"His snake?" Ron suggested. "You have to admit; he is weird when it comes to that animal."

"I don't think so," Harry said. "If that had been true, then he could have used the snake to regenerate in my fourth year, but he didn't use it in the spell."

"The basilisk then? It's a possibility. He's always been so proud to be a Parslemouth," said Ron with disdain.

"No Ron, I don't think so," Hermione argued. "No one has ever made a Horcruxe of a living thing. To do so would kill it, almost certainly."

"Yeah but we don't know much about it, do we? Just because no one has ever done it before doesn't mean it can't happen." Ron argued.

"Yes Ronald, but we're dealing in probability here. The point is we have to look at the most likely options first."

"It would have shown that piece of him when I destroyed it in second year, like the dairy." Harry contributed.

Ron seemed to concede it with a tilted nod of the head. "Then where do we look?"

"I've been thinking of that." said Harry. "Voldemort gave Malfoy his diary for safekeeping. Do you think it's possible that Malfoy has another one hidden somewhere?"

"I-I don't know. They don't exactly tell me their family secrets Harry." She told him, put off at the mention on Draco's foul family.

"I know Hermione," said Harry patiently. "But think: is there anything they made especially off limits, anything of particular value to them?"

Ron questioned: "What are the chances that he put two of his Horcruxes in the same place? Wouldn't that increase the chance of them both being found? I mean, a piece of your soul is not exactly something to be hidden lightly."

"Probably, but still, we'd hate to overlook something right under our noses-think Hermione!" Harry urged.

"I…" she began with the intention of agreeing with Ron for once, before something occurred to her. "Something especially off limits…" she wondered aloud.

"Yes." Harry said, almost eagerly. "Something somewhat ordinary at first glance maybe, that they would have been very upset if you had touched it."

"The book…"

"Another book?"

"Could it be?" she looked past them, her hands outstretched in the way they were when she had held the book in her hands, the book she had been forbidden to touch.

"What book Hermione?"

The shock would not wear off. She had frozen and could not answer.

"Hermione, what book?" Harry demanded.

"It's part of Malfoy's family history. I had in my hands, but I never thought…"

"But why would Voldemort use Malfoy's family's book? It doesn't make any sense, unless they are related…" Ron began.

"I doubt it." Harry debated. "Malfoy would have made that sort of connection known, or at least hinted at it."

"No, it's the Malfoy's ancestor, Casus. He was some sort of martyr for the pure-bloods."

"Then, maybe he would have," Harry reconsidered. "Hermione, do you think you could get it for us?"

"I had it."

"You did?" they both exclaimed.

"But they discovered it and took it. There is no chance of getting at it now, especially if it is a Horcruxe."

"Could you maybe get Malfoy to get it for you?" Ron ventured.

"Ron, that's a great idea! Yeah, Hermione, could you?" Harry pleaded with her.

"I-I don't know if he would-"

"He probably has no idea what it really is, remember? Charm him."

"Charm?" she scoffed.

"Well, yeah. You are woman after all."

"Well spotted." She quipped, while she supposed she should have been flattered, there was something hurt by her friends comment.

"Come on, Hermione, could you give a try?"

"I could try."

"Great."

"Which would mean we still have something of Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's to find…"

"I was thinking of that." Hermione started shyly. "We all know the story of the Hogwart's founders and how Slytherin and Gryffinor had a falling out. I've read that it wasn't their disagreement alone that finally ended the harmony. I've read rumors about it in Hogwarts, a History. It's claimed by some that Slytherin and Gryffindor also argued about paths to power and even immortality," she told them in a hushed voice.

"Hocruxes," Harry speculated.

Hermione nodded and went on, "Other stories say Slytherin actually stole something from Gryffindor. And where would Slytherin hide something that important?"

"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry finished her thought.

"Harry, do you think you could slip down there?"

"I dunno Hermione, maybe if we created a diversion."

"Good, then we'll do that. Now: what about the other one?"

"Ravenclaw's relic?" asked Harry, rhetorically. "What about Gringotts?"

"The bank?" asked Ron.

"Hagrid told me there was no safer place. If I wanted to hide something, I'd put it there."

"Does Voldemort have a vault?" Ron asked.

"I don't think it would be that simple." Hermione doubted.

"Maybe Tom Riddle has one. His true name isn't exactly highly publicized." Ron continued.

"Maybe he gave it to someone else he could trust." Harry thought aloud.

"Like who?"

"Any number of people: Malfoy, Bellatrix, Crouch J.R.."

"Wouldn't the Ministry know if it was in Crouch's vault, or Bellatrix's?"

"These are Goblins we're talking about Hermione." Ron informed her. "They don't take sides. They deal strictly in business, policy, and gold. They wouldn't open that vault for anyone but the beneficiary, even it was Voldemort himself. It could still be in any of their vaults. Or Snapes." He added as an afterthought.

"Ron! We trust Snape. How you can say that after he saved Harry's life?"

"He doesn't know we're looking for Horcruxes. Maybe he has it but he doesn't know what it is or that we're after it."

"Dumbledore would have found out though." Harry contradicted him.

"Yeah, I guess that's true." He partially conceded. "Maybe he didn't though. Maybe he didn't know it was important enough to mention."

"But then who has it?" growled Hermione in frustration. "It's like playing that that carnival game- you know, the one where you are trying to choose which little duck the "x" is under it to win the prize? Five ducks, four chances. In reality, I bet the "X" isn't under any of them." She sighed, "I bet it's all rigged."

"Don't worry Hermione, we'll find them." Harry tried to console her.

Ron offered: "I can ask Bill to look through some records, see what's in the Death Eater vaults. He's in the Order so he'd do it. He won't ask too many questions either if its Death Eaters were talking about."

"Alright."

"And I'll go down into the chamber one night when the D.A. makes a diversion. Meanwhile, you just try to get Draco to get you that book. Manipulate him, you know."

"I'll try."

"Let's have some butterbeer." Ron offered, producing some from a canvas bag. The sudden change in subject was much appreciated and made both Harry and Hermione laugh with relief. The mood lifted like a rain cloud as the three sipped butterbeers and jokingly reminisced for hours on end.

"Remember, remember that time Harry," Ron cackled, "When Hermione got turned into a cat?" He cracked up again. Harry joined him, doubled over.

"Oh don't remind me!" Hermione scoffed.

"She-she had a tail!" Harry managed before succumbing to ridiculous giggles. She couldn't help but join in, that is until she looked at the time.

"Oh my God! I should have left hours ago!" She leapt from her chair. The music came to sudden stop as the steamers fell from the ceiling, slowly and gracefully. The laughter too came to an abrupt end.

"Well, I suppose this is it, for a while at least." Harry said, rising as well.

"We'll see each other in classes and the hallways and-" tears suddenly sprang to her eyes an she grabbed them both in a quick hug. "I've really got to go. Draco will be back by now-"

"When will meet again?" Ron asked.

"I don't know!" she shouted over her shoulder as she exited the room, leaving her two friends standing dumbstruck and gloomy in the middle of it.

She ran as fast as she could back to the dormitories, not even bothering to quiet her footsteps in the marble hallways. With unusual luck, she made back to the tower without being stopped by Filch or a single teacher. Stopping on a dime outside her door, she collected herself, catching her breath and smoothing her hair. She wiped off the smile she had carried all night and slowly opened the door, hoping Draco was either late or already asleep. Exactly why she had a feeling he would not be she could not explain, but her intuition was right. He sat on the navy settee by the fire, sipping something she assumed was tea. Though it was obvious he was wide awake, he made no move or indication that he aware of her entrance. He went on sipping his tea. She took advantage of his indifference by immediately making to ready herself for bed.

She was behind her dressing curtain putting on her favorite nightgown when she heard him get up and move. She assumed he too had made his way to bed until she saw his shadow outside her dressing curtain. Finally, he spoke, making her start.

"Where were you?"

"Studying."

"You can study here."

She said nothing, but thought that sounded awfully familiar.

"You were with them, weren't you?"

"Who?"

"Don't be coy with me." He sneered. She did not move from behind her thin wall, as if it were there to protect her. She could think of nothing else to say.

"Goodnight." That shook him, took him by complete surprise. She had ended the conversation. She had taken control. That was not what was supposed to happen. She passed him and crawled into bed, drawing her curtains as if she paid him no mind whatsoever. She did though. Long after the shock wore off and she heard him climb into bed, she stayed awake full of recent memories of her time with her friends and waxing concern that it was not safe for her to sleep so close to an angry Draco Malfoy.

Over the next week, everyday leading up to Halloween, Draco did not once stay in the evenings to participate in their ritual. She pretended not to care, but it wasn't long before she was craving it. Unlike him, she could not escape every night, as meeting her friends too often would draw dangerous attention to them. They remained on as pleasant terms as ever, if a bit cold. She told herself such an arrangement was better, but she could not shake the feeling of missing their usual activity. Before long, she was yearning for it, dropping shameless hints to Draco who played exceedingly ignorant to her complaints. Once she even tried agitating him, to see if it would provoke him, but he just smiled at her coyly.

'Damn him!' she thought vehemently. 'He's doing this on purpose. That despicable little rat- I'm going to kill him!' It was thus that the secret whisper snuck back into her head: kill Draco. Why would she do that? It was ludicrous, unless, maybe, he deserved it. He was a cruel man, and a deceitful one. He was arrogant. He was asking for it, egging her on… What difference would it make anyway if hand slipped in their next little duel? No!' she chastised herself. 'Perhaps it was best, safer this way. There would be no more duels.'

Why was she thinking this way? Why was she even considering such a thing? This was not Hermione Granger. What had happened to her? She sat alone in the dormitory on the evening of Halloween with no homework nothing else to do in its absence. It was pathetic, and where was Draco during all of this? Where was her fiancée?

It began to nag at her, knowing annoyingly in the back of her mind at odd moments. When she really thought about it, she wondered how she had been so foolish. He had disappeared every night for a week. What was he up to and why wouldn't he tell her? Was she being paranoid? She should have been keeping an eye on him! He could be up to anything. She leapt from her chair at her sudden realization-she had to find him.

'Think,' she told herself pacing. 'If I were Draco, where would go?'

Before she could act on her musings, an owl swooping in her window and landed on her bed with a plop. She immediately crossed to her bed and picked up the letter the owl hand dropped just as it rushed back out the open window. Although it was addressed to her, she threw more than furtive glance around the room before opening it, for her name was scrawled over it in familiar handwriting.

The letter itself was even more difficult to discern than her name had been, but it took only moments to spot the writer's name scribbled haphazardly at the bottom. At this, she gasped in surprise and recognition, but if that had taken her off guard, it was nothing compared to what awaited her in the letter's actual context. Though not entirely legible, the more she read it the more sense she gathered, though she soon wished she had not comprehended a singe word.

She felt the blood drain rapidly from her face, her hands shaking as she held the letter, rereading it over and over in disbelief. Her breath came in trembling, silent sobs until hurried footsteps outside the door made her gasp. She wiped her tear stained face and slipped behind her dressing curtain just as the door swung open.

Draco's mischievous laughter filled the room as he stumbled in drunkenly. Concealed behind her curtain, Hermione frowned. Before she could slip out to reprimand him for such blatant foolishness however, another voice in the room made itself known. The sickly familiar sound made Hermione feel very cold and numb. It was Pansy's voice.

"Draco, calm yourself. You've got look sober for the feast tonight." She giggled revoltingly, making Hermione taste bile in the back her throat.

There was soft, secretive laughter, the smacking sound of drunken kissing, and the squeak of bed springs. Hermione slowly covered her mouth is shock and disgust. Pansy was talking to Draco who was moaning slightly and laughing quietly while Hermione's eyes burned with more white hot tears. Still, she crouched behind the safety of her shade, unable to neither move nor make a sound.

"Bloody hell! We're going to be late!" Draco leapt up with another pronounced squeak of the bed. Soon and Pansy's laughter dissipated, their fumbling around ended with a slam of the door, and their rushed footsteps faded away. When she could hear them no longer, Hermione stood and, clutching her letter tightly in her hand, broke into loud and mournful sobs. She told herself it was over the content of her letter alone, but she knew even then it was a lie. How could Draco do that to her? Had he been running around with Pansy the whole time? She was humiliated and furious. On top of everything, he had now endangered the cover they had worked so hard to secure and with it their safety.

Her sobs chocked and suffocated her, so much so that she became desperate for fresh air and fled to her window, undoing the latch and throwing it open wide. The air had never felt so light. Amidst it, she felt detached from all her troubles and longed to be surrounded with it. Distraught, she climbed out onto the ledge to be free of the stifling room.

Oddly, the altitude did not frighten her this time. In contrast, it was liberating. Perhaps that was because before that she had cared whether she fell or not. Now she could not manage such hope. There was none left in her, not for her partnership with Draco, the war, even for her friends. Her own life would surely end soon anyway and what kind of life had it been? What of her potential her teachers had so encouraged? Was it laid to waste? She could not help but feel violated, that the life she was meant to have had been stolen from her. What was left?

The ground looked incredibly soft and green from above, rolling in waves on the breeze that played with her hair, softly drying her face. Looking straight out at the sky around her made it seem as though she were but one of Draco's falcons, able to take off on the winds at any moment. She had only to stretch and step off the ledge.

Instead, she sat down carefully and remained there as the sun set and the students entered the great hall for the Halloween feast. She cared nothing for the food she was missing, nor did she think of those that would wonder at her absence. What would Draco say? She paid his predicament no mind. It was only the light and the cool, crisp autumn air in her thoughts on the ledge. Hermione Granger did not feel at all herself, and she most desired in that moment not think of anything, least of all of Draco's stinging betrayal and Krums' fateful letter.

Persistent tears returning, she unfolded the fist that held the crumpled transcript and read it again in spite of her pain, perhaps only to prove to herself that it was true.

Hermione-

I write this last letter in hopes it will find you in time … (indecipherable)… I pray that it is not intercepted. I beg your pardon my dear friend, for my former cowardice. I have faith that you, however, have chosen the right side in this Great War and if my hopes are not mislaid, you find the following information invaluable.

I have uncovered a great and terrible secret which, in the right hands, may help to end this war. If history has taught us anything, Hermione, it is that no one is undefeatable. There are paths to immortality that magic can provide, but all these paths can be intercepted.

I have little time left to live, of this much I am certain, so let me be frank and brief: Lord Voldemort has taken measures, extreme measures it is true, to ensure his survival, but even this magic can be fought. Moment s ago, I destroyed one of the Dark Lord's links to immortality in the form of a silver goblet. Now it is up to you, my most trusted friend, to destroy the reaming, hidden six. Be wary, the seventh is close to you and will be hardest to destroy, for it is his wisest measure taken by the Dark Lord to secure his longevity- his only weakness has been turned into his greatest strength!

I have faith in you and the courage of your friends. I ask only that you judge not too harshly my moments of weakness, my dear Hermione.

Burn this letter. Trust no one.

Farewell,

Viktor Krum

It was not until the cool night air made her shiver violently that she came somewhat back to her senses, only to realize she was about a hundred meters up on a tower of Hogwarts. She felt the fear creep back into her chest, locking her in her spot-she did not dare move to go back inside.

Upon the ledge she stayed, gazing at the stars and compulsively reviewing her constellations she memorized in her first two years of school. It really was growing unreasonable cold, her chattering teeth protested, but her stubborn legs refused to budge. Her nose and face stung in the whistling gale from which she had no protection. An hour passed, maybe two, and then there was slamming door behind her. Its harsh sound whipped her attention in the direction of her room. Draco had returned. Hair tousled, face fuming, and motions rushed, she watched his form crossing the room through the fluttering curtain.

"Who in the hell left this bloody window open? It's freezing out!" She heard him vehemently exclaim, crossing to the window and snapped it shut. Hermione let out a low growl of frustration, and then sighed hopelessly. Within moments, however, the window flew open again to reveal a fierce looking Draco gazing at her in surprise.

"What are you doing out there?" he asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he was dumbstruck.

"Getting air." She said simply.

"You really are mad." He stated, as if he'd come to a sudden and serious realization.

"Are you going to let me in or not?" she requested in a surly manner. He stepped aside to let her in, his eyes still ablaze with anger. Then again, maybe it was not anger as she had formerly assumed, perhaps it was lust.

'Perhaps it was his especial fascination with her,' she reflected sickly. When she made no move to come in, it vexed and confused him further.

"Well are you coming in or are you going to sleep out there?" He too was growing short tempered.

"I-I can't." She replied dejectedly. She removed her gaze from his cruel face to stare at the shadows below covering the grounds. She expected stinging remarks, dry sarcasm, and the mocking laughter. None came. Where was the snap of the shutting window? Where was his witty insult so heatedly thrown?

In their place, something else greeted her. There was a sigh, not so much exasperated as resigned. Then, she felt her back become unexpectedly shielded from the breeze. A solid warmth pressed against her and breath came out in wisps of smoke around the curve of her neck. Legs slipped easily on either side of her own as strong arms wrapped around her stiffened midriff, pulling her even closer. His body squeezed her in, keeping her from falling, and the two were so close that she imagined someone below might mistake their forms for one person. She kept her eyes forward, not turning to look at his smug expression as he lifted her off her feet and made for the open window. She grabbed tightly onto him reflexively; for he was warm compared to the night chill on the ledge and the only thing between her and hundred meter drop. Though grunting with the effort, he stepped in through the window as gracefully as could be managed in such a position, despite the distinct scent of alcohol on his breath. Releasing her wordlessly, he then tried to disentangle himself from the fluttering curtains. Remembering herself momentarily, she wiped her face and shoved the letter forcefully into her pocket before he could see it and ask. Trust no one.

There, her knuckles collided with her wand. Her chilled fingers instinctively gripped it. It gave off unusual warmth that sent ideas whirling madly in her dizzy head. She looked at Draco, who was attempting to shut the window against the invading wind. She backed away from him as it snapped shut, still fingering her wand.

He turned towards her, gazing at her queerly but angrily nonetheless. The sight of that smoke smoldering behind those eyes of his set her wild and, before she knew what she was doing, she had whipped out her wand and hit him in the jaw with a nasty hex that tossed aside his head sharply, spraying the floor and curtain lightly with blood.

A/N: Please leave a review to let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!