Head of House, Ravenclaw, Round 8, Prompts: Temptation, Xanadu, [Quote] "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." ~Sirius Black., WC: 1121

AU, most definitely.

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Outside, in the cold and the dark, where no one can see us, we rest briefly. The temptation to go back inside is strong, but I know that this conversation is possibly one of the most important conversations we will ever have. And, like all of our time together, it has to be done in secret - away from prying eyes and curious ears. Any time we have together, away from everyone, is a rest from the farce we play. In the xanadu light cast by dark foliage of the forest, Draco Malfoy turns to me, frowning, and starts to talk.

"They're planning to give me the mark the day after the train home," he says unconcernedly. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. That's just over a week away. A week is all we have. "We don't have long."

"You can say that again," I laugh shortly. It hurts me that he's able say these things in such a way. It makes me think he doesn't care one iota, even though I know that he does. He must do. Though we are dating in private, we're still dating. Sort of. Stolen kisses in corridors, while on prefect duty. Shared secrets and moments when we could get away from those around us. It wasn't easy in the slightest, being tempted to fall in love with someone you know you shouldn't.

Draco sighs heavily. "Hermione, we never had long anyway. We both knew -"

"It was an assumption, not knowledge," I cut in, frustrated. "You don't have to do this, you know that, right? You don't have to join them. Because if you join them, then this has to end, and it doesn't have to be that way."

Things are awkwardly silent. Seconds pass like lifetimes, long and painful. Draco shuffles on the wet grass beside me while I fight the urge to either scream or cry. Both are extremely viable options I feel. I love him, I really do. I even like him most of the time - though not for his Death Eater tendencies. Of course, his family being who and how they are, and his life being what it is, he's always going to be pulled towards that Voldemort fan-group. Tempted towards them and their darkness, in their xanadu cloaks and skull-tattoo forearms. He's going to be one of them.

I think he loves me. I think he likes me. Neither of these things stop him from having the innate desire to follow the world's most deluded and crappiest leader. Half of the time I think he is just doing this so his father might be proud of him. Draco thinks that joining the Death Eaters will mean his father will be saved from Voldemort's wrath, that all will be forgiven, and the world will continue. Father and son will bond over their evildoing and, I don't know, torture and killing muggleborns. Like me.

"Hermione, you know I have to join them. I want to…" He pauses briefly at my horrified expression. Obviously, he doesn't care enough and just perseveres with whatever garbage he is about to spit. "It doesn't change how I feel about you. It doesn't change how brilliant, and wonderful, and beautiful I think you are. It's just, the way my father talks about him sometimes. I have to know, I want to know him." Draco smiles then. It is perhaps one of the more terrifying things I have seen. And just a couple of weeks ago, Ron was attacked by brains.

"If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals," I quote, remembering Sirius saying those words about Winky and Mr Crouch last year. "He is like that, Voldemort - I know, sorry." Draco cringes at my use of his name. "Look at the way he treats his inferiors. That should tell you enough to make an informed decision about whether or not he is someone you want controlling your life."

In other words, he is not a good person. And I seriously hope Draco considers this.

Alas, he scowls at me. "What exactly are you saying about my father?"

"I'm not talking about your father, Draco," I cut in, trying to steer away from annoyance and back to that ol' chestnut of supportive and assertive. "Muggleborns, I mean. Muggles. People like me, and people like my parents. Look how he treats those people, people he thinks are below him. Torture, curses, murder. Cold-blooded murder, no less."

My mind wanders briefly to the events of the World Cup. Seeing the Death Eaters stalking around the grounds like they own the land there, displaying their disaffection with muggles. I twist my hands together in my anxiety. I can't let the same fate befall Draco - dragged into a life of horror and terror. If he was in this group of people, what would happen to us? If Voldemort caught me, what would Draco do? Where would his allegiance be?

Perhaps the question is better unanswered because maybe I know the horrible truth already.

Draco has always loved his family, cherished them, respected them. He's not going to give that up for me.

"What can I say to get you to change your mind?"

"Nothing," he replies stubbornly.

We remain in silence for a short while longer, knowing the inevitable is coming. We're going to have to depart as two separate souls. The grey-green light surrounding us is darker still as the moon becomes shrouded in thick clouds. Night is pulling in even darker and surely dawn will soon be well on its way. We will need to go inside soon. I'm not sure that I want to anymore. I don't particularly want this night to be over, stuck halfway between love and arguing, temptation and logic.

I speak again, desperate to hold onto him just a little longer.

"The Order can protect you, you know," I murmur into the temperate air. "We have resources that help to hide people. No one will know. There can be a cover story, like in those witness protection schemes. You'll be safe, and we can be together -"

"Please stop," he breathes, head in his hands. "This is killing me."

I place a hand on his shoulder, comforting.

"I can't hide away, Hermione. I can't hide from war. I can't betray my family, and I don't want to hurt you either." He speaks fast, as if the thoughts are chasing themselves from his aching head. "We shouldn't do this anymore."

"Draco!" I shout as he stands up, pulling his cloak closer to him.

He doesn't reply, stalking back to the castle, leaving me completely alone, completely in the dark.

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