January 1997

*portion in asterisks is text from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince*

It was the first day back at Hogwarts since the break and Hermione was listening to Harry as he *recounted all that he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. When he had finished, Hermione sat in thought for a moment and then said, "Don't you think—?"

"—he was pretending to offer help so that he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing?"

"Well, yes," said Hermione.

"Ron's dad and Lupin think so," Harry said grudgingly. "But this definitely proves Malfoy's planning something, you can't deny that."

"No, I can't," she answered slowly.

"And he's acting on Voldemort's orders, just like I said!"

"Hmm… did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?"

Harry frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure… Snape definitely said 'your master,' and who else would that be?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, biting her lip. "Maybe his father?"

She stared across the room, apparently lost in thought, not even noticing Lavender tickling Ron. "How's Lupin?" she asked.*

Hermione had hoped that changing the subject would make Harry forget about Malfoy, but his mind was a single track, turning time and again to his theory that Malfoy was a Death Eater.

She tried to dispute it, but Harry simply said *"We'll see who's right… You'll be eating your words, Hermione, just like the Ministry. Oh yeah, I had a row with Rufus Scrimgeour as well..."*

The rest of the day, Hermione thought of nothing else but what Harry had told her had transpired between Malfoy and Snape. She tried to play it off as Harry overthinking things. But now that Hermione had gotten to know Malfoy a little bitter, she couldn't help but be worried.

Hermione went to the Room of Requirements that evening to figure out how to talk to Malfoy privately now that their project was finished. Luck was on her side, for the Slytherin showed up ten minutes later, looking exhausted and run down.

Her interrogation died from her tongue and instead worry took its place.

"Malfoy, are you alright? You look horrible."

"Pleasure to see you as well, Granger," he said dryly. He dropped himself onto the couch and let out a sigh. "I'm fine. Just tired is all."

She joined him on the couch. "Did you not rest at all during the break?"

He shrugged. "Some, yeah. Not as much as I hoped."

"Why not?"

Malfoy closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. "Nothing you should worry yourself over."

"Well, I find that might not be possible, especially if what I heard is true."

He opened his eyes and sat up slowly. "What, exactly, have you heard?"

There was no backing out now. Hermione took a breath and said, "That you're a Death Eater."

He stared at her for a few seconds before he barked out a laugh.

It sounded insincere to Hermione's ears and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Me? A Death Eater? Who on earth did you hear that from?"

"I have sources," she said, crossing her arms.

He looked at her pointedly and she let out a sigh. "Fine. Harry's been saying he thinks you're a Death Eater all school year. And while I've been saying there's no way that could be true, I'm not so sure anymore."

Malfoy scoffed. "Potter's daft. He's just—"

"He heard the conversation you had with Snape during Slughorn's party."

Malfoy looked at her with concern. "How? What exactly did he hear?"

"I can't tell you how, but he heard you two talk about some sort of mission? From your 'master'?"

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to kill him. Potter has stuck his nose too far this time. I swear to Salazar—"

"Is it true?" Hermione asked softly, looking down at her lap where her hands were clasped together. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

She met his eyes. "Are you a Death Eater?"

"Don't be ridic—"

"Show me your arm then. Prove it to me."

He scowled. "I don't have to prove anything to you." He stood to walk around her and she took the opportunity to grab his left arm.

"Don't!" he shouted angrily as he pulled his arm back quickly.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "It's true," she said hoarsely. "You are a… a Death Eater."

Malfoy groaned as he started to pace. "Stupid fucking Gryffindor's and not being able to let things be." He dragged a hand through his hair and then pointed directly at Hermione. "You don't know a fucking thing about what I am—about what I'm going through."

"Then tell me! And don't tell me it's nothing, because something is going on with you. You look like you haven't slept, or eaten a decent meal, in ages. If you keep going the way you are, you're going to fall flat on your arse."

"You wouldn't understand." He turned away, and she reached out for him again, but kept her grip loose so he didn't feel like he was trapped.

"Please, Malfoy. Just talk to me. Help me understand."

Malfoy pulled his arm free again and started to pace some more.

"It's not like I had a choice," he said finally. "With my father getting tossed into Azkaban, I had to do it."

She wanted to ask "do what?" but she held her tongue, knowing that if she interrupted now he'd probably shut down.

"I didn't ask for it—for any of it. I didn't have a choice in the matter. I didn't choose this. I thought I wanted it—stupidly so—but the reality of it is, I don't. It's too much. And the mission," he looked at her now, almost pleadingly. "Don't ask me about the mission. I can't tell you, even if I wanted to."

"Alright. I won't ask." She sat down, trying to take everything in. "So, that night at Slughorn's party… were you really on your way here?"

Malfoy sat down as well. "Yes, but not to…" he motioned around them, "this room."

Hermione frowned. "Then where—"

"The Room of Requirement has more than one name, did you know that?"

She gasped as she realized what he meant. "The Room of Hidden Things…"

Malfoy gave a nod. Hermione sat in thought, trying to put pieces together.

"But if you were on your way here, why were you near Slughorn's party? It would have been out of your way, unless…" Her eyes widened with realization. "Were you spying on the party?"

Malfoy grumbled. "Something like that."

Hermione regarded him for a moment. "See anything of interest?"

The look he gave her made her go quiet.

"I saw you," he said finally. Then his face hardened "And I saw you with McLaggen under the mistletoe."

"Oh…" Her cheeks warmed.

"I thought you were using him to make Weasley jealous?"

She looked at him, confused. "Yes, that's right. And it was successful from what Harry told me."

"And is that why you were snogging him? To make Weasley jealous?" he sneered.

Hermione huffed with irritation. "No, actually. He caught me under the mistletoe and when I went to kiss his cheek to get released from the charm, he turned his head and snogged me. If you were really watching, you'd see that I pushed him away and left to talk with Harry and Luna," she said, annoyed that she had to explain this to him. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I don't," he snapped.

"Really? Because you almost sound like you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous of McLaggen? That's ridiculous."

"You're right, that would be ridiculous," she said. "Because in order for you to be jealous of McLaggen kissing me, it would mean that you wanted to kiss me, and that's just—" He looked at her again, his face illuminated from the fireplace and her voice caught in her throat. "—ridiculous," she whispered.

She looked away and Hermione bit her lip, wondering what, if anything, she should say.

Malfoy broke the silence first. "I should go. I headed up here to work on something, but if you wanted to use it to study, I can leave you to it."

Hermione shook her head. "No, actually. I came here trying to think of a way to talk to you privately about Slughorn's party and to thank you for the book you sent me."

A ghost of a smile formed on his lips. "Did you finish reading it already?"

"Twice," she admitted sheepishly. "It was really fascinating. Are you sure it's okay that I have it? Won't your parents notice it's gone, considering it's a first edition?

"I doubt they will, since we have more than one copy, as well as loads of others like it. The Hogwarts Library has only a fraction of what we have."

"That's fascinating," she said with awe. "I'd love to see it someday."

Malfoy winced slightly. "Some day, maybe…."

Hermione reached over to place her hand on top of his, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, by the way, for being honest about what's going on." He stared at her hand but didn't say anything. "And if you want, we can still meet up to study together. That is, if you want to?"

Malfoy gave a curt nod. "I'd like that. We can keep the same schedule as we did before, to make things easier on when to meet up. And this way, I'll know when the room is clear to work on… what I need to work on."

The words escaped her before she could stop herself. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He looked at her like she had three heads.

"Never mind," she mumbled. "I just realized how weird that sounds."

An awkward moment passed. "This goes without saying, but you won't tell Potter, or anyone else about this, right?"

Hermione thought about what he asked and finally shook her head. "No, I won't, because I don't know what exactly you're doing and I never saw evidence of you being a Death Eater. If either of those happen though, I won't have a choice."

"That's fair." He glanced at her again. "So, have you finished the Charms essay already?"

"You know I did," she deadpanned.

He pulled out his assignment from his bag. "I'll read over yours if you read over mine?" he offered and she gave him a smile.

Later that evening, Hermione borrowed Harry's cloak and made her way back to the seventh floor, this time to visit the Room of Hidden Things. The door materialized and was unlocked, which she took to mean Malfoy elsewhere.

Perfect.

She made her way inside and glanced around. The room was piled with things from centuries of students losing items.

She passed rows of discarded books. Her fingers itched to look through them, but she reigned herself in and promised she'd be back later.

She passed discarded socks, robes, and scarves. Another pile had homework assignments, quills, and inkwells. Discarded owl cages, broken trunks, doors, and cupboards lined along the walls.

There were paintings everywhere, with most of their occupants asleep or gone.

She looked around for nearly an hour before she gave up—she couldn't figure out what Malfoy could possibly be doing in there that would help Voldemort. Knowing the Slytherin, he'd most likely hid whatever it was; and with the amount of things in the room, it would be impossible to look through everything.

Resigned, Hermione made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that maybe, someday, Draco would let her in on what he was really doing.

A/N: Happy Sunday everyone! This week has been crazy busy! We were able to move into our new house, the movers delivered our stuff Wednesday so we've been busy unpacking before my husband had to leave today for 6 weeks, PLUS we got a kitten yesterday! My daughter has been asking for a cat for YEARS now and we finally did it. She's a 3 month old Russian Blue/Mix. When giving name suggestions I suggested Lyra but my daughter ultimately landed on Melody. She said Lyra can be her middle name though lol
Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this little chapter! Hermione is on her way to getting answers and things between the two are starting to change. See you next week! xoxoHufflepuffMommy