It started after a nasty argument with Harry in the common room. Hermione didn’t understand his obsession with the idea of Malfoy being a Death Eater. They were lucky that the common room was empty, save for Ron, because their conversation had quickly escalated to shouting.
“And if I had proof? Definite proof that he was a Death Eater? What would you say then?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Harry,” she pleaded, “but I don’t think you should be focusing your energy on him right now. Not when you should keep your eyes open for more important things.”
“But that’s exactly it! If he’s planning something then I have to stop him."
"But you don’t even know if he really is up to anything! Malfoy isn't important in any of this Harry, you are. You can’t let that pureblooded brat get to you.”
Harry looked to Ron for support but received none. He shook his head. “Although you seem to have forgotten," he spat, "I‘m not the bad guy here.” He stalked to his room without another look at them.
Hermione slammed her hand on the table in frustration, feeling her cheeks burn.
“Don’t listen to him, Hermione. He’s just being a prat.”
Hermione nodded her head in agreement with Ron but couldn’t help feeling hurt. She was trying to help Harry, not go up against him.
Ron gave her a sad look and headed up the stairs after Harry. She hoped Ron would be able to talk some sense into him.
Hermione stood abruptly from her chair and left the tower, angry at Harry for his stubbornness. She began to walk, needing to get as far away from their argument as she possibly could.
'If only Harry could get it through his thick skull that facts and theories are two different things, maybe we could agree on what to do next.'
Lost in thought, she wandered aimlessly around the fifth floor when she suddenly heard a faint sound. She froze, unsure of what she was hearing, but as she neared the lavatory, she realized someone was crying.
She inched closer to the door until she could see inside. It was Malfoy. He was sobbing, his head bowed over a sink. Hermione couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Suddenly suspicious and incredibly curious, Hermione looked up and down the hallway before deciding what to do next.
She pulled slowly at the door until she could slip through. She crouched down and quickly made her way to a wide pillar near the door. She held her breath and watched Malfoy. When the moment was right, she entered the first stall unnoticed.
Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stood against the stall door listening to Malfoy’s labored breaths. There was a splash in the stall next to her accompanied by a high pitched moan.
“Oh, please don’t cry,” Myrtle squeaked. “It hurts me to see you cry.”
“I can’t help it,” he replied miserably. “I don’t know what to do.”
“But I thought you had something figured out? The...”
“It didn’t work.” There was a tense silence for a moment.
“I’m sure you can think of something else.”
“I can’t keep stalling for time. If I don’t start showing results soon I’ll have bigger problems on my hands.”
“You shouldn’t worry. If they chose you, it's because you‘re the best candidate; you said that yourself.”
Hermione heard Malfoy sigh.
They spoke for a while after that until he seemed a bit more calm. Hermione waited a few minutes after Draco left, thinking about what she had overheard. Her heart beat madly against her chest and she felt goosebumps on her skin. Could Harry have been right this whole time? She felt a pang of guilt. With this turn of events Hermione decided a bit more investigation was in order.
Four weeks later, Hermione stood in the hallway with the lavatory door open slightly, her ear to the opening. She had promised herself that tonight would be the last time. She had tried to convince herself each time she returned she was still gathering crucial information for Harry, but these late night sessions had grown into something else as she had already gotten more than enough information to take to Harry; it made Hermione’s stomach knot up. She was developing a strange fascination with Malfoy and his predicament. Her entire body was tense with the effort of trying to hear their conversation. Malfoy seemed more desperate than before.
“An entire semester gone and I’m still right where I started. It’s maddening.”
“If those...those people would leave you in peace then maybe you could calm down and think of something.”
“Don’t you get it? I am one of 'those people' now. I’m a Death Eater.” The last two words came out in a harsh whisper but Hermione felt as if he had yelled them to the four winds. She stepped back from the door.
‘Death Eater.’ She rolled the words around in her head and couldn’t believe them. It had confirmed Harry’s speculations. She was torn. Harry needed to know any information that would help him delay Voldemort’s advance on the wizarding world. But Hermione was afraid once she told him, Harry wouldn’t listen to reason and would attack without any kind of plan. Instead of feeling satisfaction at finally knowing the truth, she was frightened. The Death Eaters were closer than she had imagined.
Lost in thought, she didn't hear Malfoy heading toward her until he pushed the door open, knocking her down in the middle of the corridor.
In a desperate move, he threw himself on top of her and wrapped his long fingers around her neck, cutting off her breath. She pulled at his hands, kicked and even tried to scream but it was useless. She arched her back and threw him off balance long enough to get a grip on her wand. She was able to connect a swift kick to his stomach that sent him back even further.
He was on his knees now, his arms clutched around his midsection. As he tried to struggle to his feet, Hermione turned and ran to the staircase at the end of the corridor. Before ascending the stairs, she risked a look back, her wand held in a defensive position. She had expected to see him preparing to hex her or even pursuing her, hell-bent on finishing what he started, but Malfoy was still on his knees, pain etched on his pale face. At that moment, her fear of him changed to pity.
After that night, Hermione was careful to avoid Malfoy. She believed his actions had been uncharacteristic, fueled by desperation she had never seen in him before, but she was taking no chances.
These last two days had been the exception. Just the day before, she had been alone in the library looking over a few things for Charms class when she suddenly felt someone watching her. She looked up and met his stare from across a long row of books. He was just standing there watching her. It scared her in such a way that she quickly felt for the wand in her robes. His skin was unusually pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. She wondered how long he had been standing there. When he did not move for his own wand(,) she quickly collected her things and almost ran out of the room. He made no attempt to follow her except with his eyes, which that unlike his demeanor, were strong and demanding.
Today, Ron, Harry and Hermione had been in the Great Hall finishing up their dinner when she once again felt a strong pair of eyes on her. She turned around nonchalantly and met Malfoy's gaze from the Slytherin table.
"What do you think he means by it? " Ron asked, bringing Hermione back to her senses.
"Means by what?"
"Where are the two apes he calls friends?"
It was then that she realized Malfoy wasn't surrounded by his usual gang. There was no sign of Crabbe, Goyle or even the insufferable Pansy Parkinson. In fact, he was pretty much isolated from the rest of his housemates.
"They're probably too afraid to be anywhere near him," Ron continued, answering his own question ."(B)eing a marked man and all." Hermione bit her lip but said nothing. She had not told them of her late night visits and the information she posessed. She watched Malfoy leave the Slytherin table and head out of the Great Hall. Harry suddenly rose from his seat.
"I'll see you in the common room."
"Where are you going?" asked Hermione, but she already knew the answer.
"He's getting sloppy." She saw him reach into his robes.
"And what are you planning to do?" she asked, suddenly nervous. People around them were beginning to stare.
"Whatever it takes." Harry made it to the Entrance Hall and Hermione leapt up after him. She hopped onto the first step of the grand staircase and blocked his path.
"Getting yourself expelled isn't going to help anyone."
"Stopping Malfoy will," he growled, looking past Hermione and up the stairs.
"Stopping me from what?" came the response from the top step. Hermione turned her head and Malfoy gave them an arrogant smile. Her heartbeat started to speed up. She had been trying to avoid this kind of encounter since that night on the fifth floor.
"You know exactly what I mean." Harry tried to walk around Hermione but she grabbed his arm and held him back.
"Harry, please, don't do anything stupid," she begged, suddenly wanting to cry.
"Granger's right, Potter, but it might be too much to ask; stupidity is such a part of your character."
Harry swore and pulled out his wand. Hermione screamed, but the voice of a particular professor brought the three of them to an abrupt halt.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor!" Professor Snape declared. They turned to see the professor standing behind them while a large group of students watched from behind him. There was absolute silence until he spoke again.
"I think another fifty from Gryffindor for you, Miss Granger, is also in order." She noted the tone of satisfaction in his voice and she blushed with embarassment.
His gaze rose to the top of the stairs. His voice was suddenly very sinister.
"And you, Mr. Malfoy, will come with me."
It was the first time Hermione ever heard the professor speak to him in such a tone. Malfoy quickly walked down the stairs with his head down, but not without casting his gaze on Hermione one last time before following the professor to the dungeons, a nervous look on his face. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Harry pulled himself away from her and marched up the stairs.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It was so much to take in. She stood at the window near her bed and looked out. The sun was already setting and it was cold outside. She hugged herself against the evening's breeze. She watched the moon’s reflection dancing on the lake.
She felt so horribly uneasy about the situation. Malfoy was a selfish human being full of hate and prejudice, and yet today she had felt such pity for him. Hermione realized now that she had tried to stop Harry not because it was a fruitless pursuit, but because she didn't want him to hurt Malfoy. She pulled back a strand of her stubborn hair as the wind blew harder. Maybe a walk through the castle would calm her nerves a bit.
As she walked through the corridors, lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize in what direction she was walking until she found herself on the fifth floor. She felt flushed and very hot despite the cool night.
'Could he be there again?' Hermione fingers went reflexively to her neck. 'Do I really want to find out?'
Taking a breath, she raised her hand to the metal handle. She thought she could hear her own heartbeat echoing through the corridors. Slowly, she pushed the door open. There was no one there. She blew out the breath she had been holding and walked to the sink. She opened the faucet and wet her face with a handful of water.
“Did you think it was funny, Mudblood?”
She spun around to see Malfoy glaring at her and in that moment realized she didn’t have her wand.
“I asked you a question.” He had a mad look about him, his eyes burning into hers.
“No…I...I didn't mean...”
Before Hermione could react, he lunged at her. With his right arm and knee he pinned her to the wall and shoved his wand into her face.
“Why did you come here?” he demanded, a dangerous look in his eye.
Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“How much do you know?"
Hermione blinked back tears. Whatever happened to her now would be her own fault for letting her curiosity get the best of her. “You‘re a D...Death Eater," she choked, shutting her eyes in despair. "You're here completing an assignment." She felt his grip on her fail. Surprised, she opened her eyes to find him watching her. The expression on his face was equal parts grief and fatigue.
“And Potter?” he asked quietly, "What does he know?”
"N..nothing."
His grip on her tightened once again. "What do you want from me?" he whispered.
Hermione searched his face as if looking for the answer. It wasn't fair that they had to be alone, watching the world twist and turn in circumstances over which they had no control. They both had been recruited as soldiers in a war that was bigger than they could ever imagine. She studied his dark eyes and his full lips and suddenly she knew.
"Kiss me," she whispered hoarsely, her tone making it a command.
“What?”
Annoyed and suddenly feeling quite silly, Hermione huffed and pulled his head down, forcing her lips onto his. At first, he didn't react, then he let his wand fall to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her, his right hand tangled in her hair, his left hand settling at the base of her spine.
When they finally pulled apart, they were breathing heavily. He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck, occasionally nibbling her here and there. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation.
Suddenly, in her mind she could see Harry, disgust in his eyes. She remembered the Death Eaters and the chaos at the Ministry of Magic last year. She could see the elder Malfoy and hear the disdain in his voice as he called her 'Mudblood.'
“No,” she cried, returning to reality.
He placed a seductive kiss below her ear. “But this is what you wanted…”
She tried to push him away. His eyes grew menacing and he held her in place, biting down on her a bit harder. They both froze at a sudden noise from the hallway. He swiftly pushed her into one of the stalls just as Filch walked in.
"Well, well," Filch sneered, noticing the wand abandoned on the floor. "Having trouble keeping your wand in your robe, boy?" He picked it up and held it as if it were something particularly nasty.
Malfoy snatched it from him. “Can’t someone even take a piss without your insufferable spying?” Malfoy asked haughtily.
There was silence for what seemed like an eternity until Filch spoke again.
“I‘m watching you, Mr. Malfoy,” he warned. "Clear out now."
Hermione listened until both sets of footsteps receded.
She trembled, her legs barely keeping her upright. Draco's words and her own actions repeated themselves in her head. She could feel his lips and teeth teasing her skin. She suddenly felt sick.
