A/N: Here's the next chapter. I have a feeling this stories going to be a bit darker the I'm used to, and so it's a bit of an experiment and a side project. But I hope you will stick with it and enjoy reading. Hermione's always been one of my favourite characters, so I thought I'd try something a little different, and play with her darker side, (since we all have one). Please review:)

- Amy x

Hermione awoke earlier than usual, her hair its usual bushy mess. The other girls in her dorm had strung christmas lights around in anticipation for the big day, but Hermione wasn't very excited. Christmas day was nice and everything, and it wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, but it just didn't have quite the same effect after all these years.

When she was younger, it was her favourite time of year- she'd be full of constant energy, and her room would always be decorated with tinsel and the miniature christmas tree her mum had bought her a few years previously; but that same childlike wonder was gone. She felt like she'd grown up a lot in the last year- she was more serious, more uptight. She noticed the little things more- the way McGonogalls lips were constantly tight with worry, the way Harry would sometimes wonder off into his memories, and get that dark look in his bright green eyes. It seemed, as the threat of Voldemort got more and more real, she began to see more and more of the suffering around her. It followed her wherever she went.

She went about the day with Harry and Ron, barely talking. Ron kept throwing awkward glances in her direction, and Harry's face was full of sympathy- they both knew she'd been upset last night. They just didn't realise that now she felt comforted, and it was all thanks to their enemy. Draco.

She found her mind wandering to him, and it wasnt the first time. She thought about how differently he'd acted with her; he was in it so deep, and she knew they had to find a way for him to escape. Yes, he was a death eater- but he was a young boy too. Lost, scared, and in need of help. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, so there was still hope. She thought about their meeting tonight, trying to ignore the way everything erupted inside of her at the thought of spending time with him, being alone with him. He would be there at 10 o'clock, outside the library, when the school was deserted. She knew it was wrong, but she'd broken rules before, and come to realise that somethings were more important than getting in trouble. The fact that she'd come to grips with that fact, that she could accept that she had it in her to go against authority, really did show how much she'd changed.

That night, at the evening meal, she sat with Harry, Ron and Ginny. She was probably the only one to realise the way Harry kept glancing at the pretty redhead: Ginny wouldn't dare believe it; Rom was too caught up in himself, and even Harry himself was probably oblivious to the fact he was looking at her, subconsciously. Hermione tried to hide a smile. They'd been sat in silence for quite sometime, but it wasn't very noticeable with the roar of the other students as they chattered, laughed and joked. She looked over at the Slytherin table, but she couldn't see the boy who had been constantly on her mind. She sighed- 10 o' clock couldn't come quick enough.

By ten to, the common room was nearly empty, since most of the students were either chatting in their rooms or sleeping. The only ones that were downstairs were a couple of exhausted students scribbling manically to finish the essay's they'd forgotten were in for the next day. Hermione always made sure hers were finished in advance; she couldn't bear to feel the kind of panic those kids were- and she felt bad for them.

Part of her wanted to stay here and help them out, but she'd already let Ron and Harry copy one essay today, and she needed to see Draco. So, at five minutes to ten, she silently left the common room, hoping nobody noticed.

She had thought about using Harry's cloak, but she knew asking him fir it would just cause suspicion, and they would find out who she was with. They still could, if Harry happened to glance at his map, but she prayed that he wouldn't.

When she got to the library entrance, it looked deserted, and her heart fell. Maybe this had just been Malfoy's plan all along- pretend to open up to her and then stand her up. But it just wasn't plausible. He wouldn't have. She glanced around her, and her fears began to creep along her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. She turned, looking around the corridor, her hands playing with her robes nervously, praying he'd show. She stopped. Maybe she'd been wrong after all.

But, just as she thought that, a shadow stepped out behind the statue closest to her- a towering stone knight. In the dimly lit hall, she hoped he couldn't see her smile- or the relief in it.

"You like doubting me, don't you." He stated quietly, a small smirk on his pale face. It seemed he had seen her relieved expression. His eyes glimmered in the dark, and her heart beat faster, her pulse racing as adrenaline flooded her body. She'd never felt like this before. Not with Viktor, or with Ron. Only Draco.

"And you like hiding in the shadow." She replied, her voice a pitch higher than usual. Her eyes took in every bit if him- his dark cloak, his perfect skin, his golden hair.

"Indeed I do, Miss Granger." He was grinning now, as he stepped towards her. The tears that had been cried the night before were long forgotten; now he was strong, confident, powerful. Though she knew, deep down, that broken boy was still in there, somewhere. He was so close now, and she imagined what they must look like. Two silhouettes, stood outside the doors of the library, their shadows mingled together on the stone wall. Her fingers shook as he spoke once again, breaking through the silence, his voice a rough whisper.

"I only come out of the shadows for you." He lifted his hand, incredibly slowly, as if to touch her hair, as he had done the night before. Only, this time, she would let him. She closed her eyes, waiting for his touch, but... there was nothing. Confused, she opened her eyes to see his head turned back along the corridor, a frown marring his perfect face.

"Draco?" She whispered, suddenly frightened. He put a finger to her lips, and took her arm, pulling her gently to the statue where he had hidden. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"I heard something." He whispered, leaving tingles where his lips brushed her skin. She didn't know how he had, since she had heard nothing, but then she remembered how loud her heartbeat had seemed to her ears, and how caught up she was in... him. He made her oblivious to anything around her.

She strained to hear any sound, but there was only deep, penetrating silence... And then she heard it. In the distance, footsteps were coming their way- multiple footsteps. The click of the heels cracked through the air, and Hermione's hand slid towards the wand in her pocket. She curled her fingers around it, and clasped it tightly, her breath coming in quiet gasps that seemed incredibly loud to her ears. Draco held her tightly, and she clutched his robe with her left hand, holding him close and breathing in his scent. The footsteps were close now- only a corridor or so away- and her heart rate spiked. There was a painstaking, terrible moment of silence... and then they were fading, disappearing, into the maze of hallways and corridors. Draco sighed in relief against her ear, his body relaxing, but still neither of them moved. They stayed there for a few more minutes, her pressed against the wall, with him leaning over her, obscuring her from view, until the footsteps finally drifted away.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked breathlessly. She tried hopelessly to keep the fear out of her voice.

"I'm not sure. I doubt it was Death Eaters. I would have known if there were plans to infiltrate the castle. It was either prefects, or teachers. No one more dangerous." His voice was gentle, soothing, and she relaxed, her fear disappearing.

"Let's go." He said, and he grabbed her hand, tugging her gently into the abandoned library. Once inside, he let go of her and trailed his fingers along the shelves and shelves of books, his expression serious, his eyes flicking left and right so quickly, it made her dizzy to watch. She struggled to keep up with his long strides as he searched, but, eventually she caught up to him when he stopped at the end if a row, looking lost and dejected. He slammed his hands against the books in frustration, making her jump, and she hesitated before approaching him and gently guiding him away. They sat down, together, on two of the plush purple armchairs scattered around the room, and she held his hand, her small soft palms covering his. He looked away, his eyes pained.

"Draco." She whispered, softly. But, he continued to avoid her gaze "Draco. Talk to me." She insisted, turning his head towards her. She could see part of the despair starting to seep into his eyes, and she knew he needed hope. "Don't give up yet, Draco. Tell me what we're looking for." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"A... A spell. A spell that makes someone seem dead, when they're not."

"That's it!" She exclaimed, standing up. "That's perfect! If we can just-"

"Thats the problem." He replied, sighing. "It sounds good in theory, but I don't even know if it exits. It was just a rumour I heard my parents whispering about last year. Some story about a witch who had faked her own death..."

"Then we've got to believe it." She stated, firmly. "Its the only hope we've got." She held out her hand, and he looked up at her, hesitating. Then he cracked a smile.

"And you're the only hope I've got."

Together, they spent hours searching through stacks and stacks of books- ancient, thick novels, some with thousands if pages. It was hard going, but, eventually, they found something. The book was in the restricted section, in the far corner if the library. A single, small window let in the moonlight, but underneath it, they stood in darkness. The book was a thick, black thing with golden spirals that danced around the pages. It was covered in dust, and when Hermione blew it, Draco got a face full of the stuff. He coughed, hard, and she grimaced.

"Sorry." She muttered, turning the page. He laughed.

"It's fine, just watch those lips of yours, Granger." She grinned, thumbing through the pages. Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes wide. "Lumos." She whispered.

"What is it?" He asked, eagerly.

"Its not much," she admitted, excitement tinging her voice. "But it's something."

"Let me see." He whispered, and she passed the book to him. He scanned the page under her wand light and his eyes lit up, too. "The 'Passida Deceita' spell, better known as the 'spell of fake death', is rarely used, and the incantation of Passida Deceita is known by few wizards. However the main problem with the curse is that nobody really knows the wand manoeuvre required, and so the spell was classified as illegal by the Ministry of Magic in 1942." He'd finished, so she flicked her wand, and it became darker.

"See, it does exist!" She paused. 'Passido Deceita.' I've never heard anything like it." She whispered. He nodded in agreement, but worry had seeped into his eyes.

"Me either. But, even if we can use it, we don't know the wand movement required. And the other Death Eaters would hear that I didn't say the Killing Curse, and one of them would say it anyway." He stated plainly. Hermione frowned, deep in thought for a moment. Then an idea sparked in her eye, an idea so... obvious, that she grinned.

"Draco, you could use wandless magic!" She exclaimed. His eyes widened.

"What? But that's... Wandless Magic is only used by the worlds greatest wizards- Dumbledore, Grindelwald. I don't think... even The Dark Lord hasn't attempted..."

"You could do it, I know you could. Its the only way." She pleaded, but he turned away.

"No Hermione, I can't. I'm... Im weaker than you think."

"Draco. You are not weak. You're an amazing wizard, and you fight for what's right. That says a lot about a person."

"But, I'm..." He took a deep breath, and then looked deep into her eyes. His sparkled in the moonlight, and her heart started to beat faster as she stared into their electrifying depths. They wern't like the sea, or the sky, or anything calm- they were like ice, or lightning, or something so sharp and powerful it hurt to look at, and she found her heart thudding hard in her chest.

"I'm... Not Ron, I'm not Harry... Im just Draco."

"That's enough for me." She whispered, and, for the first time that night, his face split into a real snile. It was inly small, but it was a happy smile, and it sent shivers up her spine as her pounding heartbeat echoed in her chest.

There was a pause, and then, this time, she was the one to close the space between them, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. He cupped her face gently, and her breath hitched in her throat as his soft hands sent tingles across her skin. Then, suddenly they were kissing, and it was soft and sweet and passionate and powerful, and she was the match and he was the fuel- and together they burned. Her heart had never beat so loud, the butterflies in her stomach had never erupted so much; she'd never felt so good, so complete. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and she realised that all this time, after everything that had happened- this was what she was waiting for. For him. She didn't want it to end as his hand tangled in her hair, making her mind clear of every worry, of every thought that had been tumbling round and round in the past twenty four hours. Apart from one word, one boy.

Draco.