PS: Before you begin reading, this is actually me reposting my story from scratch. Here are the reasons why:

- Inconsistencies between the earlier chapters and the more recent ones I had posted, which made me want to rewrite from scratch.

- My dependence on traction (likes, follows and comments) had become toxic. And so I did the unthinkable, which was to delete and restart, just like turning a new leaf.

I know that this is very inconvenient for those who had already read my story, but I promise to repost very quickly. I hope you forgive me and understand that I needed to do this for my own mental health.

Thank you for understanding!

Hello dear readers, and welcome to my new story.

This story's starting premise is inspired by a Dramione fanfic on AO3 called "Smoke Signals" by blue_keyboard (link here: /works/45236773?view_full_work=true ), to whom I give credit for inspiring me with the beginning of my fic. The rest of the story however takes a very different turn, and so the stories do end up very different and very much their own. However, I do encourage you to read blue_keyboard's story as well because it is a fantastic story! I hope we can all, as writers and readers, enjoy each other's work and respectfully take inspiration from each other, without forgetting to give credit.

As for the cover image for this story, it is made by me, generated by the website called Canva.

And now, I leave you to delve into this chapter. Please let me know what you think through your reviews. They will be my fuel to keep writing!

Love,

Cleo26

Chapter 1: Unspoken Burden

The late summer sun cast its warm rays upon the Granger residence, its golden hues streaming through Hermione's bedroom window. She was laying on her bed, immersed in the pages of "Pride and Prejudice", her favorite book. Jane Austen's world has always served as a retreat for her, one where she could momentarily forget about her love life, or rather, the lack thereof.

Viktor Krum had been a fleeting page in her nearly blank love journal, a memory of fleeting kisses and letters now exchanged between them as friends. She had known from the start that Viktor would not be the "one", yet she felt silly for believing in that childish concept. She blamed it on all the romance she had read over the years, but especially on the character of Elizabeth Bennet, the fictional woman she saw herself in.

Fourth year seemed like a distant memory, with its best moments replaced by the bitter realization that Voldemort was back, and has brought hell along with him.

Fifth year, however, brought a new wave of emotions—ones that she resented herself now for feeling. Most notably, jealousy. The green monster had manifested within her so strongly when she found out that Lavender Brown had become not only Ron's girlfriend, but his constant companion. This particularly felt like a bludger to the chest, especially to Hermione, who had spent most of fifth year trying to get the attention of the boy who had done nothing but take her for granted.

But had she ever truly loved Ron as more than a friend? Or was it because she always assumed that they would end up together, as was expected of them by everyone around them, that she had allowed her heart to pursue him?

As her thoughts circled in endless loop of introspection, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental was missing. If love was as abundant and beautiful as depicted in her favorite novels, then why did it seem to escape her at every turn? All of her accomplishments, her academic accolades and the many praiseworthy milestones she had achieved throughout her time at Hogwarts were not enough to fill the void in her heart. She longed to be seen, to be cherished and admired for who she was on the inside, something she felt eluded even her closest friends.

Hermione sighed, returning to the world of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, yearning for a connection as deep and as special as theirs. She lost herself in the words, hoping that Austen's prose would transport her to a realm where love was definite, enchanting and all-consuming.

Meanwhile, in the luxurious Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy's room bore the brunt of his inner turmoil. The air was thick with the remnants of his outburst—shattered objects, upturned furniture, and the palpable weight of a burden too heavy to bear. Sweat clung to his brow as he struggled to regain composure.

Your father has failed me, young Malfoy.

Draco's body shivered as he remembered the day he received his dark mark. He never thought he could feel pain that rivaled that of his aunt's cruciatus on him during training. Unlike his godfather's firm yet gentle approach, Bellatrix's methods have left him scarred in every possible sense of the word.

With a deep breath, he summoned the skills he had honed under years of tutelage under Severus Snape, and the room, now restored to its former order through a series of practiced spells, revealed no trace of the emotional tempest that had unfolded only moments ago. Occlumency became his sanctuary, a fortress to shield the vulnerability that lay beneath the surface.

Occlumency may be the most important thing I ever teach you Draco – He recalled his godfather's words.

Draco, however, remained tangled in a web of conflicting emotions. His eyes, once bright with arrogance, now reflected the toll of an unchosen path. The Dark Lord's command hung over him like a Damoclean sword, and the burden of ending Hermione Granger's life loomed as a dark cloud over his conscience.

Prove your and your family's loyalty, young Malfoy. Kill Potter's mudblood whore and her filthy muggle parents – A command so direct, Draco could not find a single loophole in the Dark Lord's statement.

With deliberate steps, Draco approached the window, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky. The world beyond Malfoy Manor seemed oblivious to the storm that raged within him. He longed to find a way out, a path diverging from the one carved out by Voldemort's command. Yet, none seemed to come to mind, even after agonizing over it for weeks.

And today he was assigned a task, one that the Dark Lord had laughably and oh so cruelly ordered him to complete on the day itself.

One that threatened to destroy the essence of his being.

Knowing he had no time to dawdle on that miserable fact, Draco disapparated to the quiet suburban street where the Granger residence stood. The Granger family, unaware of the threat right outside their doorstep, blissfully carried on with their evening routine. He saw her parents, a couple in their late forties, exit the front door and get into what he knew to a muggle form of transportation, an automobile. He sighed with relief as he saw them drive away.

Hermione's room, now bathed in the soft colors of the setting sun, provided a stark contrast to the maelstrom brewing within Draco. He observed her as she moved from her bed to the window, plopping on what he assumed to be a reading nook with a book, his inner turmoil momentarily quelled by the serene scene playing out before him. Taking a deep breath, Draco closed his eyes and focused on the task at hand. The Dark Lord's orders were clear, and defiance meant risking not only his life but more importantly his mother's. It was a dilemma that tore at the very fabric of his being.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Draco's resolve hardened as he resigned himself for the impossible. His hand reached for the unregistered wand at his side, a tool that had become both a symbol of power and a outlet for the darkest of deeds. Masked by the cloak of the darkening night, Draco slowly approached towards the front door, his mind racing with the weight of the secrets he carried.

Inside her room, Hermione turned the pages of her novel, oblivious to the unseen presence outside her window. That is, until she heard a strong knock on the front door. Her eyes lifted from the pages, the serenity of her evening shattered by the unexpected interruption. Setting aside her book, Hermione approached the door cautiously. Another knock echoed through the house, more insistent this time.

"Who could it be at this hour?" she mused to herself, her curiosity tinged with a hint of unease. The Granger residence had never been a hub of unexpected visitors.

Upon reaching the front door, Hermione peered through the peephole, her pulse quickening as she caught sight of the figure on her doorstep. A shock of platinum blond hair and striking silver eyes met her own. Draco Malfoy stood on her door, a pained expression marring his features.

What is Draco sodding Malfoy doing here? This can't be good.

The unexpected sight of her school bully had Hermione grappling with feelings of uncertainty, unease and even fear. Draco Malfoy, the embodiment of Slytherin conceit, was the last person she expected to find at her front door. Why would he, if not to cause her harm?

Yet, the vulnerability in his eyes hinted at something more, conflicting with the arrogant and antagonistic façade he usually bore towards her. Hesitant but compelled by some inexplicable force, Hermione cautiously opened the door, her eyes meeting Draco's. The air between them crackled with tension as her breath caught in her throat, rendering her speechless at the way his eyes widened when he first saw her.

"Granger," Draco began, his voice betraying a trace of uncertainty. "We need to talk."

So dear readers, what did you think? PLEASE let me know in your reviews!

Until next time!

Cleo26