Caught in the Middle by titanium_dust

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 30/04/2008
Last Updated: 24/12/2008
Status: In Progress

AU,HHr.Hermione was spotted and captured by the Dark Lord at the age of 3 to be personally
groomed. Brought up by the Malfoy family, she grew up to be very different from the Hermione we
know. Now,16-year-old Hermione is sent on a mission to Hogwarts.




1. Abduction
------------



Tucked beneath her comforter, a young girl laid asleep with her arms stretched across a small
teddy bear. The cool wind from outside blew in, slightly rustling her brown bushy hair as she
wriggled further in to the warmth of the bed.

“He wants the child alive.” Cloaked figures stood outside, still, watching the curtains'
rippling movements as wind gently blew in to the room where the child laid. “The less trouble from
the muggles, the better. Head straight to the room, I'll grab the girl and apparate back.” They
headed towards the front door of the house.

“Let's move.”

“Alohomora.” The door clicked open with a whisper from one of the men. Quick and with the
silence and swiftness of a predator hunting down his prey, they ascended the stairs and headed
straight to the room, following closely to their rehearsed plan. The man opened the door, with the
two other figures waited, bodies tense with alertness. "Lumos." The light from the
man's outstretched wand illuminated the masks the figures were wearing. White and
expressionless, it ensured that neither emotion nor any recognition would ever be exposed, thus, if
any of the figures were affected by the numerous pictures of a little brown-haired girl in various
poses and her crayon drawings framed in her room while entering, or the other signs of innocent
childhood, there was no indication at all.

The curtains bellowed fiercely as a sudden gust of strong wind blew in. The yellow light from
the streetlight right outside the window burst in upon the figures in the room, now they were
completely visible. A eerie sight to anyone, three cloaked and masked figures standing absolutely
still. It was as though the wind was trying to warn the girl of the danger she was facing. The wind
blew stronger, desperate in its efforts but the young girl snuggled in further, not sensing the
strange presence of the cloaked figures in her room, nor the man that had stepped close to her bed
beside her. The wind also blew off the hood of the man, revealing sleek, blond hair that brushed
the shoulders, a startling contrast to the deep black colour of the hood.

“Malfoy!” One of the cloaked figures started forward, clutching her wand, before she was stopped
by a hand thrown out in front of her. A female voice hissed from under the hood behind him. “Put
your hood back up, or I swear I'll shave your mane off.” The threat was obvious in her cold,
rough voice. The tension in the room rose as the girl suddenly rolled over in her sleep, disturbed
by the noice. Her back now faced the three figures. Their grip on their wands tightened as she
began to mumble into her pillow. They couldn't afford for her to wake up and alert her parents.
It would cause too much unwanted trouble and punishment from the Dark Lord. Eventually, her
mumblings quietened and she returned to her peaceful slumber, to the relief of the group. The close
brush reminded Malfoy and his group of the urgency of the situation. He quickly stepped forward,
right up to the bed, a pale hand outstretched to grab the young girl.

Suddenly, crazed barking tore through the silence of the room! A golden retriever puppy jumped
onto the bed from the other side, barking wildly at Malfoy, and landed on the girl. The sudden
impact and commotion woke the girl up with a start, who abruptly sat up on the bed. Malfoy and the
rest jumped into action at the first sound of commotion. The two figures moved further into the
darkness of the room. The female slammed the door shut and the other whipped around, casting a
locking charm on the door. Malfoy lunged at the bed. He scooped the dog up in his left and grabbed
the girl's small waist with his right arm as he fell onto the bed with a grunt.

“Go!” He ordered the rest. “I'll meet you back at the place.” Without a single word, the two
figures spun and disapparated with a loud `POP'. He cursed under his breath when the girl
started screaming and the puppy began to struggle in his grasp. His clumsy attempts to stand up
from the bed failed as the girl had grabbed onto the bedposts, desperate to escape from the
stranger's clutches. His eyes shot to the door when loud shouts came from, probably from the
girl's parents and he knew that things were getting out of hand. He had to leave before any
more trouble arose. He forcefully jerked his right arm to free the girl's hold on the bed and
in the process, hit the girl's head on the bed post, knocking her unconscious. Her screaming
instantly stopped. The puppy got even more agitated after seeing its owner getting hurt and began
barking even louder, scratching and wriggling in the loop of his arm.

"Damn dog." Growling with frustration, Malfoy rapidly got off the bed, onto his feet.
The door was now shuddering violently as though someone was throwing his body weight against the
door to break it. The shouts from outside got louder and more distinct.

“Darling, are you all right? Mummy's coming, dear. It's all right!” An anxious voice
came from behind the door. “Daniel, hurry up! When was the door locked? Oh God, what's
happening inside? Asher's going crazy in there too! Oh God…” The desperation and fear was
evident in her cries.

Malfoy looked up from where he was standing, the girl and the crazed puppy in his arms.

`BANG!' the door flew off the frame as a man pushed through the hinges in a final throw of
his body. He and his wife stumbled into the room, in time to see a dark figure in the room, and a
flash of blonde white hair before the figure disappeared in a spin with a loud `POP' before
silence issued. Their daughter was nowhere in sight.



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2. You are the Key
------------------



The silence in the chamber was thick with tension, except for the occasional cackle from the
fires lighting up the room. Two figures stayed in a half-kneeling position, heads bowed low towards
the front of the room. One hand on the cold stone floor, the other resting on their knee; both arms
were trembling slightly but unseen by the figure seated in front of them as their long black
sleeves covered their arms like the rest of their attire covered their bodies. The mission had not
turned out well. The mudblood's parents had been alerted after all, against the Dark Lord's
instructions. They did not understand why the Dark Lord had ordered them to capture a mudblood
child, nor the instructions to abduct the girl un-noticed when it had been easier to simply kill
the muggle parents. But they knew better than to question the Dark Lord, and better yet, disappoint
him. It now depended on whether Malfoy would succeed in bringing back the girl.

“POP!” The tense silence was first broken by the distinctive sound of apparating, before being
completely diminished by crazed barking. A fourth figure had appeared in the room. With a swish of
blond hair and black cloth, he too fell onto the ground into a kneeling position immediately. The
girl landed on the cold wet floor and began stirring in the hold Malfoy had her in, uncomfortable
by her new surroundings.

“My Lord, I've brought the child.”

As if acknowledging the statement, the young girl gave a weak groan as she regained
consciousness and shook her small head. Her brown eyes cleared and widened in surprise as she took
in the unfamiliar surroundings. As a child, she did not know how to mask her emotions. Fear evident
in her darting eyes, her breaths became short, ragged breaths, until her eyes landed on something
familiar - the puppy held under the arm of the man holding her too.

“Ash!” She burst out, her short arms reaching out to the puppy. “Ash!” her fingertips brushed
the soft hair of the dog that visibly calmed down. Looking intently at his owner, he seemed to be
checking for her well-being. Satisfied, it became completely silent and the chamber's original
peace was restored with a single voice ringing out in the cold chamber.

“Bring her to me.”

---------------------------------------------

Maia walked purposefully down a hallway with a pile of neatly folded silk blankets of rich green
with silver linings in her arms. She was thinking about the games she would play with Young Master
Malfoy that day when barking sounds interrupted her train of thought. Her feet came to a stop on
the carpeted floor as she frowned. There should not have been any dogs in the Malfoy Manor; it
wasn't common for wizards to keep dogs. Her senses pin-pointed the source - behind a heavy door
left ajar was the underground storage chamber. Strange, hardly anyone go in there, much less a dog.
Either way, it would not do for a stray dog to be in the respected house of the Malfoys, thus she
eased the door open quietly and padded down the dark stairway.

As she approached the landing, the barking lessened. Maia stopped in her tracks with her hand on
the cold stone wall. The dog must have noticed her on-coming presence; she had to be more careful.
She strained her ears in an attempt to pick up on where the animal might be; the barking was very
much softer now, but clearer as she walked on. She gingerly stepped into the badly lit underground
chamber, minding to make her entrance as silent as possible. The place was cluttered with boxes,
shelves stuffed with books and objects, not to mention, thick stone pillars that extended all the
way up to the high ceiling. The dim lighting did not make her way around easier, she was even more
careful to manoeuvre her way around the objects. The barking had completely stopped by then. She
was just about to walk around another shelf that was completely occupied by books when she heard a
chilling voice, slicing through the silence of the chamber.

“Bring her to me.”

She froze. Immediately, she knew she was not supposed to be where she was. And she had already
been discovered for her mistake. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaws tight, awaiting
for whoever it was to bring her forward. No one came; instead she heard a cry that sounded like it
came from a child in pain, echoing loudly throughout the chamber. Maia's eyes shot open in
surprise. A child was definitely the last thing she was expecting in a situation like that.

Maia had very strong maternal instincts, which was why her job as a nanny was so perfect for
her. And when she heard a child's cry, she could not bring herself to leave, although every
other instinct in her was screaming the exact opposite. She did not know what she could for the
child, but she knew she could not turn around and forget about it. Instead, she removed two books
from the shelf in front of her and peeped through the gap created.

Two dark figures are couched on the floor, heads bowed towards a throne-like chair. A bald young
man sat on the throne, arms spread out wide on the arm rest. His face was pale and expressionless.
His eyes were fixated on the figures in front of him. Maia saw her master, pulling a small
bushy-haired girl roughly by her hand to the front of the chair. That young girl could not have
been more than three years old, Maia couldn't think of any reason for such a child to be doing
in a place like that. She winced when she witnessed her master pushed her forward to the floor as
he himself crouched down gracefully to the same position the other two figures were in. The girl
had let out another cry of pain as she hit the floor.

The young man stood up, walked up towards the child lying on the ground…… and turned around.
Maia's eyes widened in horror as her mouth opened in a silent scream. There was another face
was on the back of his head! It was white, with the features slightly distorted. The eyes were
narrow; slits replaced his nose and his lips were thin. The girl herself was horrified beyond words
and simply laid on the floor, rooted by her fear.

“So this is the girl then,” That chilling voice rang out again. “After three years of searching,
we finally meet.”

Maia shuddered despite herself. The man towered over the girl as the white face fixed his eyes
upon her. The thin lips barely moved as he spoke.

*“She is the Key to the power the Dark Lord knows not.*

*Born as the Dark reign ends, the winds will find her.*

*She will be hidden amongst the blood despised.*

*Both sides will seek her and she shall be truly found.*

*She will be His Key to the power the Dark Lord knows not."*

The man took a step backward (towards the girl), a slight triumphant smirk playing on the barely
existent lips. A small puppy ran out from the arms of her master to place itself between its owner
and the man, growling threateningly. The girl launched herself forward to embrace that brave pup
and buried her face in its fur in her own effort to distance them from the man. At the same time,
he was pushed backwards forcefully (or forwards for the man) by seemingly nothing. Maia was
confused by what she saw. The surprise of what had happened was evident on the white face. He
looked down at the girl in wonder and amazement.

“An elemental?” he said breathlessly. The child only whimpered in response.

“The power the Dark Lord knows not,” he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Indeed! A wind
elemental!”

He laughed again, this time loud and clear, over the deep growling of the dog.

“Both sides will seek her and she shall be truly found. Yes, she was found truly by the Dark
Lord!”

He announced loudly as he held his hands out. “Remember, my followers. Power goes to those who
seek it,” He looked back down at the cowering child, his eyes glinting eerily.

“And those too weak to seek it shall perish.”

Maia had a sick feeling deep in the pit of her stomach as she watched the pure evil that was
standing in the chamber. The child still remained in a foetal position on the floor, hugging the
puppy tightly. She looked up exactly as the white face stared down at her.

“And you are the Key to the power that I've yet to know. My key to the power itself,
Hermione Granger. ”



-->



3. You are not alone
--------------------



Albus Dumbledore looked out the window of his office, down at the students who were streaming
into the carriages that would bring them to Hogsmeade Train Station. His face broke into a gentle
smile as he fondly watched the laughter and happiness of his students' expressions, like
watching his own grandchildren. Childhood was the best part of life, to be happy without a care in
the world. He loved watching children, their innocence was something that never ceased to amazed
him. This fascination of his was also what inspired him to be a teacher. His greatest joy was times
like that, to watch his students carefree and full of life. He knew that such a scene now would be
rare and precious in the impending dark future. He looked on at the scene, as if trying to store it
in his memory forever. His attention caught onto a raven-haired boy that somehow stood out of the
bustling crowd. Blue eyes softened behind half-moon spectacles and followed boy a little longer as
he made his way through the crowd, not bothering to engage in the chatter and excitement around
him, only nodding occasionally when approached, all the way until he reached a carriage. Just
before he boarded it though, Dumbledore watched him turn around to face Hogwarts. He stood there
unmoving on the footstep of the carriage, looking at the castle for a long time. Oblivious to the
commotion around him, his face had an unreadable expression, as though only the Hogwarts castle and
he existed.

Dumbledore wondered what was going through his mind. Was it how his past fifteen years had been?
Or simply the recent year? Or the fact that his future had already been set out before him - to
kill or be killed? Dumbledore sighed deeply and turned his back towards the window. Neither of
those should be in the mind of any teenager, yet fifteen-year-old Harry Potter had to bear that
burden at his age. He sat down on his chair, elbows propped up on his table. Taking off his
spectacles, he closed his eyes wearily, suddenly looking very much older. Dumbledore played out the
recent events in his mind.

Harry had charged into the Department of Mysteries with Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville
Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Cho Chang, after being tricked by Voldemort into mistaking Sirius
Black to be in his hands. The entire incident hadn't turned out well. The Department of
Mysteries was trashed in the short battle between the Death Eaters and Order members. All six
students were injured, with Cho and Ron getting the most of it, requiring a stay at St. Mungo's
for a part of the summer. If there was any silver lining to be seen in this, was that now the
wizarding world finally acknowledges the return of Voldemort. He had risked appearing in the
Ministry and in the end of their magical battle in the lobby, he had been spotted by Cornelius
Fudge himself and a few dozen Aurors. The Ministry had finally come out of its denial and were now
taking little but nevertheless necessary steps to prepare the public against the dark times ahead.
But the fiasco at the Ministry was still a tragedy. The Order had lost yet another Order member
that night. Sirius was killed in battle by Bellatrix Lestrange.

At this, Dumbledore's shoulders sagged as he put his head in his hands. He was a wise and
intelligent man, as many had come to deem him so. All his life, he had foreseen what could have
happened, and most of the time, he was right. But he had not foreseen Sirius's death, to his
deepest regret. Sirius's death had hit Harry the most. Dumbledore had witnessed the growing
father-son relationship between Sirius and Harry for the past two years, how Harry gradually began
to see Sirius as a father figure he never had. With Sirius ripped from Harry this way, Dumbledore
worried for Harry. The boy had suffered so much yet fate had been cruel enough to deal another
blow. He himself was no better, for he too had dealt just one more blow to Harry's fragile
state.

------------------------------------------------

“There was a prophecy, Harry.” Dumbledore leaned over his table, looking intently at the
fifteen-year-old boy seated in front of him. “A prophecy about you and Voldemort.”

Dumbledore waited for a response from the boy. But there was only silence as the boy stared at
him with dull eyes from his slouched position opposite him. That response made it difficult for him
to continue, but he knew that there was no way he could not keep it from him any longer. He took a
deep breath and went on.

“That was what Voldemort wanted today at the Department of Mysteries. That bottle that the Death
Eaters wanted from you contained the prophecy that was made sixteen years ago, just before you were
born. He had only heard the front portion of the prophecy then. Thus now that he had gotten his
body back, the first thing on his list was the prophecy. To hear it in its entirety. For he
believes that it is the prophecy that will foretell the end. In his understanding, the prophecy is
his weapon to vanquish you.”

At this, Harry finally gave a reaction. He let out a short bitter laugh, his entire body jerking
with each laugh as if it had to be forced out. “Serves that bastard right.” A smirk broke through
his emotionless face. “The bottle was smashed. He'll never get to hear it. Fifteen years of
waiting for something that is gone forever.” He laughed again. “Serves that bastard right.” He
repeated.

“That bottle was merely a copy of the real prophecy, Harry. A recording, you can call it. The
prophecy is not, as you say it, gone forever. Sixteen years ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing
a prospective Divination teacher at the Hog's Head. It was she who made the prophecy, and in a
stroke of luck, I was present to hear it to its entirety, unlike Voldemort thankfully.” Dumbledore
recounted the events that were etched so deeply in mind for the past sixteen years. “I have kept
all these a secret all these years, and now I believe it is time for you to know… Everything. Let
me begin by showing you the prophecy that started it all.”

“The pensieve.” Harry whispered. He was more alert now, no longer slouching in his chair, but
sitting up straight, leaning forwards on the table.

“Yes Harry, I will show it to you using my pensieve. But I do not have a record of it in it. It
is simply too risky; I cannot allow any chances of anyone discovering the prophecy. I promise you,
Harry. The prophecy is something I will never forget; whether or not my memory begins fail me as I
age.” Dumbledore gave Harry a wry smile before getting out of his chair.

He took out his pensieve from his cupboard and placed it in front of Harry. He straightened up
again and brought his wand to his temple. When he took off his wand, attached to it was a silver
strand, as though his wand had caught on to one of his hair strands. But both of them knew better
than that. Soon after the strand was placed into the pensieve, the silvery liquid in it began to
swirl. A quick falling sensation, they soon found themselves in Hog's Head Bar.

It was a typical quiet bar, with a local band playing jazz music on the stage. The patrons were
minding their own businesses, slouching over their drinks; the bartender was wiping glasses behind
his bar. Dumbledore gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him to a dark corner of
the place. Dumbledore had revisited this memory countless of times over the years. Finally, he was
showing it to him. He wondered how Harry would react to the prophecy. He saw a copy of himself,
admittedly younger, standing next to a woman draped in deep red and orange robes. Her entire body
was all tensed up, like she was starting a seizure. Her eyes were rolled up so that only the whites
of the eyes were visible. With her trembling hands held out, she spoke in a voice that was deep and
rough, like she was in a trance.

“*The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…”*

At this, a cloaked figure seated at the table next to them suddenly knocked down his goblet. The
younger Dumbledore looked up sharply.

“…*born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…”*

A glimpse of his wand and a movement of his lips were seen. The cloaked figure stood up abruptly
and moved towards their table. Only to knock into some sort of invisible barrier some distance away
from where the lady was standing.

“…*and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord
knows not…”*

The cloaked figure whipped out his wand.

“Finite Inca-”

“Expelliarmus!”

His wand flew out of his grip and out of the open door. The barman had sensed trouble and
reacted quickly by casting a disarming charm on the cloaked figure.

*"…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other
survives…”*

The figure rushed out of the door to retrieve his wand and in a flurry of black robes,
disapparated in a characteristic “POP!”

“…*the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month
dies…”*

The woman finished speaking and her hands dropped to her sides as her body began to collapse.
The younger Dumbledore caught her and gently sat her down. “Are you all right, Ms Trelawney?”

The older Dumbledore looked sideways at Harry, who was watching the scene unfold before him.
Unspeaking, he stood there frowning, confusion plain in his eyes. Dumbledore took his shoulder once
more and brought them out of the memory. Once again, the two of them were back in his office,
surrounded by the different portraits of headmasters and mistresses over the years and
Dumbledore's shelves of books and trinkets.

Harry dropped into his seat in daze as Dumbledore surveyed him from behind his table. His green
eyes moved unfocusedly for a while before looking up into Dumbledore's blue ones, lost and
questioning.

“That was the prophecy. As you could see, there was someone who heard the front portion of
prophecy. What happened was that I cast a silencing charm around Sybill and me as soon as I noticed
the eavesdropper. However he had fled before I could erase his memory of what he heard.”

Harry sat in front of him, numbly absorbing his words. Dumbledore sighed. How he wished that
this day would never come, that Harry would never know about the prophecy, that Harry was not the
chosen one. But as fate would have it, it picked Harry. Confusion, pain and helplessness looked
back at him as he locked eyes with him. Dumbledore walked around his table and knelt down in front
of Harry, gently placing his wrinkled hand on Harry's knee.

“Harry, you must understand that this is what destiny has chosen for you. It is not your choice
to deny what fate has laid out for you, but it is your choice to go down this path with courage,”
Dumbledore whispered. “Or with defiance.”

“I will be here to help you, Harry, in every way that I can and know of. Remember that
you're not alone in this.” Dumbledore tightened his grip on his knee, staring straight into his
eyes.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You're not alone in this. Dumbledore repeated it silently. He stood up again and walked back
to the window. The students had all boarded the carriages, which had left for Hogsmeade Train
Station. He let out another sigh. Contrary to what he told Harry, he had not in fact, let on
everything that had happened that night. He couldn't bring himself to add on another piece of
information atop everything he had gone through. That fateful night at the Hog's Head, he had
only let Harry see the second portion of it. There had been two prophecies made that night… To his
deep regret, he did not realise the eavesdropper sooner. The eavesdropper had managed to escape
with the entire first prophecy and part of second.

“*She is the Key to the power the Dark Lord knows not. Born as the Dark reign ends, the winds
will find her…She will be hidden amongst the blood despised.* *Both sides will seek her and
she shall be truly found.* *She will be His Key to the power the Dark Lord knows not…”*

Dumbledore deduced that the Key was still alive. With only a portion of the second prophecy,
Voldemort must have misunderstood the first. Thus presently, both prophecies still held true. He
knew that if they had any chance in this war, it was in the Key and Harry. They had Harry with
them, sure enough. And Dumbledore had faith that the Key would appear soon, in this time of
need.

Dumbledore turned to stare out of the window again. “You're not alone in this.” He
murmured.

“She will be truly found… by you.”

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4. Revelations and Missions
---------------------------



Dull green eyes stared out of the window. They weren't really seeing the endless green
fields rolling by; it was just that he couldn't stand looking at the small train compartment he
was in. Otherwise, that horrible empty feeling deep in his heart would overwhelm him again. He
couldn't take anymore of that, not anymore after so many days of it. He was sure he would go
mad if the terrible feeling came back.

His eyes swept across the silent compartment briefly. Ginny and Neville were seated opposite
him, both asleep. Luna was beside him, reading her magazine upside down. A pang of guilt hit him
again as he noted once again that Ron wasn't around, which led his thoughts to Cho. Both of
them were lying at St. Mungo's, recovering from their injuries. His jaw clenched as he tried to
fight back memories of how the recent events, where they had received their injuries. After a short
struggle, he closed his eyes in defeat as he allowed the memories to once again play in his head,
as it had done countless of times already.

It was his fault, his stupidity that had led them to this. If only he had practised occlumency
properly, if only he had checked properly instead of being tricked by that bloody houseelf
Kreacher, if only he had stopped to calm down and think, if only…. There were a thousand million
`if only's running through his head. If only… Sirius was still alive…

There it was, that empty feeling again. Harry gasped for breath as he gripped the edge of the
seat tightly. At the corner of his eye, he saw Luna peer at him over her magazine. He tried to
squash the feeling down, back to where it came from but it was futile. It came stronger than ever.
He felt the walls closing around him, overwhelming him. He needed to get out; he needed to run, to
escape. Away from the guilt, the pain and the horrible emptiness. He managed to mutter that he
needed the washroom before he hurtled out into the doorway. He ran. Past the compartments, the
students, the snacks lady, past whoever who just called out his name. Harry ran all the way to the
end of the train, until there was nowhere else to run to. He slid down to the floor, hands in his
hair. He cried softly, angry at his feelings of helplessness and pain, at his situation, at his
stupidity, at every damned thing in the world. Tear drops left darkened spots on his shirt as he
sat there for a while.

“Harry?” A female voice broke through the sounds of his own panting and the noise of the
train.

He looked up slightly to see Ginny kneeling in front of him, a concerned look on her features.
He quickly looked away, taking deep breaths to calm his crying.

“Harry, don't be like this. I know you're hurting deep down inside. All of us are.”
Ginny said softly. “But it doesn't change anything, we've got to move on.” She placed a
small hand on his. “Treasure those around you more instead, people who love you.”

Harry looked down at their hands, then up to look at her face. She had moved closer, much much
closer. All he could see was her face . Her fiery red hair, her big chestnut-brown eyes, her
freckles sprayed lightly on her cheeks…… like Ron……

He snatched his hand away from hers as though he had been jolted by electricity. He quickly
looked away as he gasped. The image of Ron, bloodied and unconscious in the Department of Mysteries
flashed in his mind. Ginny reminded him too much of Ron, they were siblings after all.

He couldn't, not with Ginny… and in a jolt, he realised. He couldn't, not with Ginny,
not with Cho, not with anybody… He couldn't afford to, it was a weakness he couldn't
afford. He was too embroiled in the war, a war that will only get bigger and bigger until that
final battle between Voldemort and him. Love was a luxury he couldn't afford, love wasn't
for someone like him… a person who was going to be killed or kill, if he was strong enough. Love
was a distraction for him. He didn't need love, what he needed was to get stronger. To train
and get stronger so that he could end this hell for everyone.

“I… I just needed to be alone, Ginny.” He said distractedly. “I… I'm all right. You go
ahead, I'll see you back at the compartment.” He stood up dazedly, and Ginny slowly followed,
disappointment plain on her features.

“But Harr-”

“I just need to be alone for a while, Ginny.” Harry interrupted her, finally focusing his eyes
on her. “I'm fine.”

“If… if you say so. See you back at the compartment then.” Ginny said uncertainly, before giving
him a hug and turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

Harry entered the empty train compartment next to him and sat down. His mind felt clearer. He
had a definite goal now - he had to get stronger. No distractions, no nothing. He just had to train
and train to get stronger, so that he could defeat that bastard, avenge his parents, Sirius and
Cedric and end this nightmare for everyone. He let out a grim smile. It is not his choice to deny
what destiny had laid out for him, but it was his choice to accept it with courage or with
defiance. He knew his choice, and he knew what he had to do.

----------------------------------------------

All she saw was pitch black, all she heard was silence. She stood in the middle of a room,
straight and stable. Six men surrounded her in a circle, three holding weapons, three holding
wands. Their robes suddenly picked up as a gust of wind blew around the windowless room. She knew
where they were, she could feel them. Those useless blocks are just taking up space. Far away from
her, she heard a distant click of stopwatch.

A small smile appeared under her blindfold. She gripped her own wand tightly as she suddenly
threw herself into a backflip. Another backtwist and she landed with her back facing her first
victim, directly in front of him. He raised his wand to shout a curse, but she sharply rammed her
elbow into the left side of his face. His head snapped to the right, where she reached behind to
wrap her hands around his neck before slamming him down in an overhead throw. Her body followed the
momentum and she landed with her right knee ramming on his chest hard, between his ribs. She heard
the breath forced out of him and knew he was unconscious.

Bouncing off the balls of her feet, she went into a roll on the floor as two spells flew past
where her head was moments ago. She had heard the curses being shouted at the two ends when she was
throwing the first victim. Her head jerked slightly to the right as she heard another curse being
said in front of her, this time softer. She shot ice bolts out of her wand before rolling to the
side to avoid the spell flying towards her. A cry of pain, and a thump. Number two was taken care
of.

Another gust of wind whipped around the room. The four others were closing in on her, still in a
circle. The two men who shouted the curses just now were standing nearly opposite each other, while
the ones behind and in front were off centre. A Cruciatus curse was shouted from the right. A gun
shot from the back. She quickly cast a shield charm as she spun on her feet. A streak of wind
whipped her face as the bullet missed her narrowly. The man in front felt only a sudden gust of
strong wind pushing him to his right before the bullet hit him in the neck. The Cruciatus curse
ricocheted off her shield and sudden screams of pain erupted at the back. Front guy done and back
guy almost.

Her blond hair whipped around her face as a third gust of wind blew around the room. The two on
her sides were coming closer, the one on her right only a few metres from her. She dropped to the
floor and slid to the right. A body bind spell was shouted from her left. Her legs split slightly
as the man's feet came in between. She twisted her legs hard, causing the man to fall on top of
her. She felt his body stiffen as he acted as her temporary shield. Four down, two to go. She was
back on her feet in less than a second. Sounds of moaning were coming from her back, while another
spell was shouted from her left. She threw herself into another backflip, missing the burning spell
narrowly. Landing gracefully on her feet, she sent a stunning spell back to where the spell came
from. A thump on the ground was all she needed to hear.

She stood there, calm and unmoving. Her robes rippled slightly as wind from nowhere swirled
around the room for a fourth time. Behind her, the last survivor slowly got to his feet. Holding
the dagger in his hand, he slowly pulled his hand back to throw at the girl standing in front of
him, a smirk on his face. Before the dagger left his hand though, the girl turned a 180º to face
him, her wand outstretched.

“I never had much respect for people who attacked from the back.” She stated plainly.

A green flash was all it took to end the fight. Another click of the stopwatch ended her
training for the day. She removed her blindfold to see her trainer walking towards her. Brown eyes
moved down to see the timing on the stopwatch held out and a satisfied smirk appeared. Her trainer
opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the door creaking behind him. Both of
them looked behind to see a man at the door.

“Mi… Miss Leah, H…He wishes to see you” He stammered out.

The girl looked back at her trainer before walking past him towards the door without a word.

As she brushed passed the messenger, she said “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

The messenger bowed again, “H…He says that you must see him immediately, Miss Leah.”

“He has a mission for you.”

-->



5. Hermione Granger
-------------------



Deep within the Malfoy Mansion, Leah Malfoy was walking purposely down a hallway with messenger
trailing behind her. His footsteps were the only sounds in the entire hallway, for hers were
unheard. Since young, she had been trained to move silently, gracefully and quickly. Thus the
messenger's loud and hurried footsteps were of a great annoyance to her heightened sense of
hearing.

“Keep that noise up and I'll make sure you will join Nagini on the ground for the rest of
your pathetic life.” Her voice was soft and even, but the threat was crystal clear. She never
stopped walking as she said it, nor turned her head around. It was as though she hadn't said
anything at all, much less threatened a man to his death.

A sharp intake of breath behind her and the noise noticeably lessened. Just then, her ears
picked up another set of footsteps. Nearly silent, but it was very close, enough for her to hear.
Only one person walked like that. She inwardly smiled, but again like she had been trained since
young, her expression remained unreadable.

“Aren't you going to say that you missed me?” an amused voice came from a figure that caught
up and was now walking in tandem with her.

“What creature was you turned into this year? A flobber-worm?” Once again, there was no
indication that she noticed the figure walking right beside her. Her eyes remained looking in
front, walking forward purposefully in the same speed and grace. However, if one listened closely
enough, the humour in her voice was detectable.

Draco Malfoy chuckled and shook his head. “I missed you too, Leah.” He kept up with her
effortlessly, not bothering to turn to look at her either.

“Is that an indirect way of saying yes? Or were you turned into something even more
disgusting?”

“No, it's my direct way of saying that I missed my little sister.” He replied in a teasing
voice. “Besides, even if I was turned into a creature, I'll still be as bloody gorgeous as I am
now.”

Leah's chest tightened momentarily at the words “little sister”. However, she ignored that
reaction and instead allowed herself to let out a sound of disbelief at Draco's egoistic
comment.

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

The messenger who was trailing behind them rushed forward to open the heavy doors to the
chambers.

“You shut up, Malfoy.” Draco retorted. A smirk flashed on his face before disappearing as the
both of them stepped into the chambers together.

The doors closed behind them as they strode forwards together. With grace characterised by only
the Malfoys, they knelt down and bowed their heads.

“Master.” Their voices chorused perfectly to greet the figure seated in front of them.

“Ah, the Malfoy siblings,” a high, cold voice rang out within the silence of the chamber. Lord
Voldemort sat on his throne-like seat, fingering his wand with his long, white fingers. His gaunt
snakelike face twisted into a smile as his scarlet eyes looked down at the two teenagers kneeling
in front of him.

“Draco must have just arrived from Hogwarts, haven't you?”

“Yes, Master. The messenger informed me of your order as soon as I arrived. I came here
immediately.” Draco replied smoothly, his head still bowed down.

“Good, you know that you cannot keep me waiting. Although I can't say the same for you,
Leah…” His voice trailed off, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“Master, I was in the midst of combat training. I could not be excused.” Leah explained. If she
was afraid of offending the Dark Lord by keeping him waiting, there was no sign.

“I see. I trust it is blind combat today? How was the fight record?”

“Yes Master, it was blind combat. Five minutes and twenty seconds, a new record.” Leah felt a
rush of satisfaction at beating her record once again. “Against six men. Three armed, three
wands.”

“You are improving, Leah.” Voldemort's pleasure was evident in his voice.

Leah felt another rush of satisfaction and pride at her master's compliment. She looked up
at the man draped in black robes, sitting in the throne. “It would not have been possible without
your grooming, Master.” She allowed a small smile to grace her features.

It was true. If it was not for Malfoy family and her Master, she would have died a long time
ago. She would not be what she was now, the second child of the Malfoy family nor the favourite of
the dark lord. She couldn't remember anything, but she was told by her parents that they had
found her abandoned and crying in one of the streets in the muggle world, weak and dying.
Coincidentally, they discovered that she was of wizarding blood. Thus, they had decided to adopt
her. As part of the Malfoy family, she gained status, wealth, education, family, training and
personal attention from Lord Voldemort. Draco and she had been groomed by him personally and many
other trainers to impart skills and knowledge of different fields.

Voldemort had recognised the great potential in her and had ordered her to continue training
outside Hogwarts. Thus when she turned eleven, she did not turn up in Hogwarts, but had instead
been going through various martial arts training, language and arts lessons, combat sessions and
magical coaching from the dark lord himself and many others.

However, her trainings had always been kept a secret. Most people, including majority of the
death eaters knew her as Leah Malfoy, the second child of Malfoy family. Only a select few and her
teachers knew her true prowess. Deadly and powerful, her abilities could surpass many death eaters,
much less people her age.

Draco, of course was not left out. He had been drilled the basics at a young age, and Severus
Snape was in charge of training him in the various arts of magic and combat in the duration at
Hogwarts. During the summer holidays, he would be put through rigorous sessions to catch up with
Leah. After six years at Hogwarts, he was not as good as Leah but nevertheless powerful for his
age. His abilities were not widely publicised but were more well-known than Leah's as it showed
in his good results in Hogwarts. Thus, the two of them were known as the Malfoy siblings -
favourites of the Dark Lord, among the death eaters that knew of them and their prowess.

“Tell me, Draco. How is our dear Potter doing?” Voldemort's voice turned even colder, if
possible, at the mention of his enemy.

“Master, after the incident at the Ministry, he had been out of sorts. He barely reacts to
anything now, even ignoring Weasley and the others.” Draco reported. A smirk appeared on his
handsome face. “I heard that he had even run out of his compartment to cry in a corner in the train
earlier.” Amusement was evident in his voice.

Voldemort let out a humourless laugh that rang out throughout the dark chamber. “Weak pathetic
fool.” he whispered in disgust. “This is what the all-so-powerful love had done to them.” Voldemort
spat out the word `love' like it was poison. “Crying in a corner... Weak fools.”

His scarlet eyes focused on the two teenagers kneeling in front of him. “They say it is what
makes them strong. But it is nothing but weakness. Their greatest weakness. The recent incident at
the Ministry had proved it all. We would not have been able to lure Potter to the Ministry if not
for this weakness.” An evil smile crept up his white gaunt face. “And we shall exploit this
weakness once again. I have come up with a plan which requires both of you, which is why I have
called for you - to give you a very important mission.”

Both teenagers looked up at their Master, ready and eager to receive instructions on their new
mission. It was rare that they were involved in big missions as they were still young and lacked
experience, despite their strong abilities.

“Leah, this year you shall go to Hogwarts. Although your abilities and magical knowledge should
have surpassed what that school can teach you, but it is essential that you are at Hogwarts.” Leah
and Draco glanced at each other for a short moment before both turned to look at the Dark Lord in
slight confusion.

“And you, Draco, will do everything to help her complete this mission. Prepare her and support
her in whatever it takes.” Voldemort's red eyes shifted to look at Leah intensely as he leaned
forward in his throne. “You shall be the centre of my grand plan to deal the Light side the
greatest blow they have ever received.” His thin lips lifted into a slow and wicked smile.

“Your mission is to steal Harry Potter's heart."

------------------------------------------------

Maia looked out the night sky, her arms resting on the balcony railing. She looked as though in
deep thought, frowning and shaking her head occasionally. She was in great confusion and
uncertainty. She sighed and turned around to look into the room behind her. A girl laid asleep in
the bed, a child she had brought up and loved as her own for the past thirteen years.

After that fateful day thirteen years ago in the depths of the Malfoy Mansion, the child had
been placed in her care. Nothing was said about where she came from, all she was told was that her
name was Leah Malfoy, the second child of the Malfoy family and she would be her second charge,
after Draco Malfoy. Of course after what she had witnessed, she knew better. But she had kept all
that knowledge to herself, knowing that it was dangerous to spread around. For the past thirteen
years, she kept that secret, not even telling Leah her true identity even when she saw her master
and mistress tell her a fake and sugar-coated story of how she came into the family. It wasn't
safe for her to know the truth then, not yet. She knew that although the Malfoy family was
associated with the Dark Lord, but it was one of the best families to be brought up in. She would
be provided for as long as she remained the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Now she was sixteen, Maia wondered if the time had come. She knew that the child did not belong
here, she has only become what she is right now because of her upbringing within the Malfoy family,
but as her nanny, she knew her charge inside out. The child she saw thirteen years ago was still
there.

It still wasn't safe for her to know the truth, but she knew the Light side was seeking her.
Perhaps this was what fate had meant for… all she hoped was that she had done the right thing…

------------------------------------

“Wait, so you are going to Hogwarts this year?” Maia asked for the fifth time that day.

Leah looked at her pointedly from where she was sitting on the floor, stroking her golden
retriever.

“Under a false identity and appearance?”

“Yes Maia.” Leah said patiently, looking back down at her dog.

“To seduce Harry Potter?” The large dog snorted as it laid on the floor, enjoying Leah's
stroking.

“Can we not use that word?” Leah did not bother looking up.

“Well, I suppose it makes sense.” Maia looked up at the ceiling, explaining to no one in
particular.” There isn't any other girl who can do the job, and you have been dying to go to
Hogwarts anywa-”

“That is not true.” Hermione looked up sharply.

“You and I know that it is very true.” Maia retorted, before speaking in a gentler voice. “You
want to be where Draco is; I know very well how you feel-”

“Maia,” She interrupted softly, "you don't want to continue that sentence."

“There's nothing wrong! He's not your real brother anyw-”

“Maia, please.” Leah looked away from her nanny, onto the floor.

Maia relented. “I'm just saying that this mission could be a good thing. You've had
little chance to really socialize with people your age anyway. This could be the perfect time!” She
exclaimed.

“What could be the perfect time?” A masculine voice came through the door, which opened to
reveal Maia's other charge.

“Draco, you're back!” her face broke into a large smile. She crossed the room and looked up.
“And you've grown even taller!”

“And more gorgeous too!” He stepped forward to hug Maia, his own face wearing a smile of his
own. “Hi, Maia.” He whispered into her hair. He looked down and nodded at the golden retriever who
had padded over. “Hey Ash.”

“Ah, still having the ego problem.” Maia broke away from the embrace. “But yes, you have grown
more handsome.” She looked at him fondly. Draco shot a smug look at Leah. Leah raised an eyebrow in
response.

Maia laughed at her two charges. “What took you so long anyway?” She asked Draco. “Leah was back
ages ago.”

His face darkened for a moment. “Master had something else to talk to me about.” He broke into
another smile. “But it's nothing much, don't worry. So what's could be the perfect
time?” He looked at the two women in the room.

“I was saying that it was a good chance for Leah to socialise with people her age, now that
she'll be joining you in Hogwarts, whether it is for a mission or not.” She looked at Draco
sternly. “You better take care of her now!”

Draco laughed. “When have I done any other thing to my little sister?” He grinned playfully
before becoming more serious. “But it won't be easy, Leah. You know Potter and I are enemies.
We can't be seen associated, or the mission would definitely fail.”

Leah simply nodded silently from where she was. Maia looked sympathetically at her, knowing how
she felt.

“Well, let's not dally away the time!” Maia exclaimed loudly. She hustled over to Leah and
quickly sat her on the bed, whipping out her wand. “Let us decide on her new appearance and
identity, starting with the name.”

Leah looked on helplessly as Draco leaned against the bedpost grinning at the scene before him.
What they did not know was Maia's inner turmoil as she paced the few steps in front of the bed.
Finally she decided and stopped right in front of Leah.

“Alright, your name shall be Hermione. Hermione Granger.” She said firmly, looking down at her.
It was the first time she had said that name out loud. She nodded once, making it clear that there
was no argument.

Leah sat motionless for a moment, before nodding unsuspectingly. “It's nice. Hermione
Granger it is.”

Draco shook his head and muttered “That was quick.” Both women ignored his comment.

“Right, now as for your background……” Maia trailed off for a moment. The version that she knew
was false anyway and no one knew of Leah being adopted too. “It can stay the same, just exclude the
part about the Malfoy family and that you were home-schooled instead.”

Leah opened her mouth to say something, but Maia went on. “The identity is settled. On to the
appearance.” She nodded to herself, as her two charges simply looked on; one in helplessness, the
other in amusement.

She waved her wand, and whispered “Finite Incantatem”, unheard by the two teenagers as Leah was
casting a silencing spell on Draco at the same time to stop his laughter.

Leah's blond hair began move in a wave-like movement beginning from the roots of her hair.
Straight blond hair turned into loose honey brown strands that flowed past her shoulders, slightly
bushy. Leah looked very different with the new hairstyle; it gave her a new aura. It was no longer
very aloof and stern, except for her face expression, but more feminine and gentle.

Looking at her own reflection, she frowned slightly and moved her wand. Before she said any
incantation though, Draco interrupted. “Don't you do anything to your hair. It looks good, I
like it.”

Leah looked at him, lips slightly parted to say something. But she remained silent, and slowly
lowered her wand, turning her gaze back to her reflection in the mirror. Maia and Draco turned to
look into the mirror too.

“There we have it - Hermione Granger.”

--

Author's Note: I know Asher (Hermione's dog) should be dead by now after 13 years... but
it's fiction after all. (shrug)

-->



6. On the Hogwarts Express
--------------------------



*Author's Note: From this chapter onwards, I'm going to start referring to her as
Hermione. There will be mentions of Leah in the story, it still is the same person. Hope you guys
won't get too confused!*

------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was lying on her bed, her head resting on her golden retriever who was curled up next
to her. Her arms wrapped firmly yet gently around his neck, both laid there un-moving for a long
time. The room was silent except for the sounds of their breathing and the occasional muffled
rumbles of thunder and sounds of pouring rain outside.

The turn of a doorknob. Footsteps. A familiar voice calling her name. The silence that reigned
in the room before broke. Maia stepped into the room and took in the scene. Her charge was on the
bed with Asher. By the wall was a trunk with a duffel bag on the window seat next to it. She walked
over to the bed to sit by her charge. She looked at the brown hair that flowed behind her and fell
over her face, her pink lips that were slightly apart, her small nose that was perfectly shaped,
her eyes that were closed at the moment, framed by neat eyebrows. Maia reached out a hand to brush
some hair off her face. At her touch, Hermione opened her eyes. Brown eyes met blue ones. Unspoken
words and emotions remained unexpressed but both of them understood anyway. Hermione closed her
eyes again and moved her head closer to her touch as Maia stroked her hair fondly for a while.

“Ready?” Maia's soft voice broke the peace between them.

Hermione took a deep breath before opening her eyes once again as she pulled herself closer to
the dog for a quick moment then pulling away and sitting up on the bed, her legs curling up behind
her. Her eyes looked at Maia, before turning back to the dog which had also sat up and now resting
on his fours. His eyes were sad as he gazed back at Hermione silently. Hermione moved forward to
wrap her arms around him again, burying her head in his long golden hair.

Maia watched as they stayed that way for a while before breaking apart. She knew how difficult
it was for Hermione; they had never separated before. There was an unspeakable bond between the dog
and her. They protected and understood each other like no one else could. When Hermione was first
left in her care, the child responded to no one else but her dog. Asher was her protector and one
of her few friends. Hermione was a reserved person after all the years of training, her gentle side
was revealed to a select few - Asher her dog, herself as her nanny who brought her up and Draco who
grew up along with her.

As they pulled apart, Asher licked the side of face and nuzzled her with his nose. Hermione
nodded and gave a small smile. She stroked the back of his head before getting off the bed to face
Maia who was holding back tears. Wordlessly, she stepped forward to embrace her, closing her eyes.
Maia let out a sob and pulled her in tighter. As they broke apart, she blinked back tears and gave
a watery smile to Hermione.

“You take care now.” The tremble in her voice was unmistakable. They stood like that for a
moment before her face screwed up again as she launched herself at Hermione with a cry.

“You've never been so far from home before for such a long time.” Maia said in between her
crying. “I'll miss you.” Her voice cracked.

Another small smile from Hermione said it all.

“Are Mother and Father around?” Hermione turned around to sling her duffel bag and slide her
hand into the handle of the trunk.

Maia said nothing. Hermione turned back around, the smile no longer visible. She shook her head
slightly, her hair moving along in gentle waves.

“I'm used to it.”

Hermione was not close to her parents. It was not in the family tradition to be very expressive
with their feelings. Neither hugs nor kisses, it was always about being prim and proper. Thus, her
parents seemed cold and unloving, distant and reserved especially towards Hermione. Hermione had
not even seen them since before Voldemort had given her the mission and she was not even sure if
they knew the full details of her mission at all. However, it did not matter as they were not
involved in any part of the plan. Even Hermione's transfer application was sent by Maia and
herself. Hermione could not afford be linked to the Malfoy family or her cover would be blown and
the plan will fail.

Her eyes swept across the room, lingering on Asher and Maia. For a moment, her eyes revealed
sadness and utmost reluctance before masking up again. Her signature small smile flashed again one
more time before she spun on her feet and disapparated with a loud `POP'.

-----------------------------------------------

The cabin door slid open to reveal the person he had been avoiding the whole day. He braced
himself for what was about to happen. He had rehearsed this in his head a million times, he had to
do it. He was fighting for their safety, and to do that he had to get them out of harm's way…
his way.

“Harry! Where have you been all summer? And what are you doing here all alone, mate? Our cabin
is further down!” Ron Weasley's loud voice boomed throughout the small train compartment… and
in Harry's head. God, this was going to be difficult.

Without looking at him, for he knew he couldn't bring himself to do it if he did, he said
nonchalantly, “I'm here to be alone, Ron. Just leave me be.” To emphasize his point, Harry
shifted in his seat to turn his back to face the doorway.

“What? Harry, you can't be serious. We've been seating together to Hogwarts since first
year, even in our second year on the Ford!” Ron frowned. “Come `on mate, let's go to the cabin.
Ginny, Neville, Luna and Cho are there too.”

The confusion in Ron's voice was painful to listen to. He closed his eyes and turned his
head further away from the doorway. “I mean it, Weasley.”

“Weasley? Is that what we are on now? Last name basis?” Ron's voice upped a notch; Harry
could tell he was getting agitated. Good, that meant he was getting the hint.

“Since when have you ever called me that? Look mate, if this is about the incident, it's
over. You need to snap back to reality and forget about the past.” He said with impatience and
anger tingeing his voice.

There, it was the opening he was waiting for. He stood up abruptly to face Ron with his eyes
blazing.

“Yes *mate*,” he emphasized the word `mate', “this is about the incident, it's
about what the hell is happening right now. You want me to forget about the past? Forget what
exactly? That I almost got killed by Voldemort?” Ron winced at the mention of the Dark Lord's
name, which served to fuel Harry's anger.

“Forget that Sirius di-” The words died on his lips. Harry could not complete the sentence. Damn
it. After so long, he still could not bring himself to say it.

Ron looked weakly at his best friend as he faltered on his words. “Harry, I didn't mean it
that way, but you have to stop dwelling in the past. Come back to reality, to the present, to your
friends.”

Harry's green eyes hardened. “I have come back to reality, Ron. But not back to you nor
Neville, Cho, Ginny or Luna. *I* am living in the present, it is you who isn't.” He jabbed
his finger into Ron's shoulder before gesturing around them.

“Look around you, Ron. War is on its way, and you're still telling me all this bullshit
about friends and other useless things. I've been thinking about it. The whole summer, in fact.
You, all of you…you are just dragging me down.” Harry turned away from him to face the window. The
look on Ron's face was unbearable after what he had just said.

“I do not need to be distracted by you and the rest. What I need to do is to concentrate and
fight.”

“Wha… What do you mean?” Ron's eyes looked at Harry in confusion. “What exactly are
you-”

“That you are just a burden that I can do without.” Harry injected coldly without looking back.
It was a lie, a downright lie. But it was a lie that had to be said.

Ron stood speechless at the doorway for a while. Slowly his ears turned red as he comprehended
Harry's statement. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and turned him around roughly, looking at
Harry straight in the eyes. Harry could no longer see confusion and uncertainty. It was anger,
anger at him, anger at what he said.

“So we're burdens to you now, huh? You don't need us huh?” Ron shouted at Harry in the
face. “You should have said that last year! Wait, you should have said that six years ago! You
think you're the great and powerful Harry Potter, don't you? You don't need us to save
your ass anymore huh?” He shoved Harry in the shoulder. Hard.

“You know, we don't need you either. We're sick of being your sidekicks. I'm sick of
having to go through all the stupid life-threatening things when I've got a normal life waiting
for me.” Harry inwardly winced. Yes Ron, a normal life. A life without him putting him and everyone
else in danger all the time.

“Go ahead without us then on your oh-so-noble journey of yours. I just thought that we, at
least, deserved a thank you.” He looked at his *ex-*best friend in disgust before storming out
of the cabin, leaving Harry standing alone in it.

Harry watched his best friend walk away from him and disappear down the corridor. A strange
empty feeling erupted within him and the entire cabin. He sunk heavily back into his seat, his mind
in a whirl. He did the right thing, he told himself repeatedly. It had to be done. To be strong, he
had to do it. There was no other way…was there? Why, then, did it feel so wrong? He examined that
empty feeling that was consuming him. He knew it now……it was the feeling of being all alone. It was
not loneliness, it was worse. It was as though he was in a vacuum, and there was no one else but
him and him alone. He felt it before in the past; when Uncle Vernon would lock him in the broom
cupboard under the stairs. He hadn't felt it in such a long time…for six years to be exact;
ever since Ron became his first friend…

He had no parents, no Sirius, no Ron…so the feeling came back.

Thinking all these, Harry leaned his head against the window, looking blankly outside. A stray
tear leaked out and trickled down his face, unnoticed by him. He was alone again, and he would
remain so for a long time until this bloody war ended… or all his life if he did not survive
it.

He did not know.

-----------------------------------------

Hermione sat down on the compartment seat, looking around at her surroundings. She never really
thought that she could ever board the Hogwarts Express, sit in the train compartment, never mind
about sitting alone, and watch the view roll by the small window as they moved towards
Hogwarts.

She felt apprehension yet excitement. She had always wanted to go to Hogwarts, to see how the
teachers taught, what the teachers taught. Although her knowledge and skills should have already
surpassed the curriculum, there were things that she did not learn like magical history,
arithmancy, astronomy. However, she remained apprehensive about the environment there. On the train
station earlier, she was surprised by the amount of students who attended Hogwarts, about how they
interacted with each other, about the general atmosphere. She was uncomfortable in the mix of
commotion and life. Not fitting in amongst the students never really bothered her, but in the here
and now, she was truly feeling a bit tense. Not that she would show it in any way, she would never
show her weakness so openly. It was instinct drilled into her from a young age.

She shook her head slightly. She was forgetting the main point! She was sent here for a mission,
she should not be distracted by trivial matters like fitting in and school work when there were
much bigger matters at hand. Her eyes closed as she recalled one of her meetings with her master
recently.

*“Leah, you realise the importance of your role in my plan?” Lord Voldemort fixed his red-eyed
gaze on her.*

*“Yes, Master. I do.” Hermione* *knelt in front him, her head bowed down in
respect.*

*“That night at the Ministry, Potter used the* *Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix.”*

*Hermione looked up. Voldemort had a reminiscent look in his eyes.*

*“He did not succeed,* *of course, for he was in righteous anger.” Voldemort had a sly
expression on his face. “**But this shows that* *our golden Potter* *is not all that
pure. He can be turned to the Dark Side… with the appropriate…” His red eyes moved down to gaze at
Hermione. “…persuasion.”*

*T**he brilliance of his plan* *finally dawned upon her**…* *Her mission
could result in two outcomes; she could either be the reason why he joins the Dark Side, or the
reason to his death.*

*“You will be my weapon. Be his key to his heart and you shall be my key to his weakness.*
*If he refuses t**o join us, then he shall perish,” Voldemort said softly, his face twisting
into an evil smile and his eyes taking on a crazed glint. “**We will injure him where it hurts
the most - his pathetic hear**t.**”*

*“…and we shall destroy him.”*

She had a very big task ahead of her indeed. How would she go about getting Harry Potter to fall
in love with her? She has never had real experience with people her age, asides from Draco, much
less in the dating department. If she had been asked to kill him, she would have done it without a
blink. But seducing him was a completely different matter. Hermione shook her head again. Seduce
wasn't the right word. Charm, yes charm the Potter boy was more appropriate. But how the hell
could she go about `charming' him when she barely had any experience, and with no information
to work with? It was tough but Hermione was not one to back down from a challenge. If anything, it
made her even more determined to succeed, to prove herself to her master.

Her head jerked slightly towards the door when her sensitive ears picked up voices in the cabin
next to hers.

“Harry! Where have you been all summer? And what are you doing here all alone, mate? Our cabin
is further down!”

So Harry Potter had been in the cabin next to hers the whole time? It was god sent. It meant
that she didn't have to go looking for him throughout the train ride. A small smile appeared on
her face. Her eyes remained closed as she tuned out the low rumbles of the train and focused on the
conversation in the next cabin.

“Weasley? Is that what we are on now? Last name basis?”

So Weasley was here. She knew about him, Draco had mentioned him loads of times. Potter's
sidekick. It didn't sound like he was going to keep that title any longer though.

“Forget what exactly? That I almost got killed by Voldemort?” Hermione's eyes opened at the
mention of her master's name. He dared speak her master's name… he wasn't even fit to
*think* of it. Hermione took a deep breath to keep her emotions in check; she would make him
pay for it another time.

“…what I need to do is to concentrate and fight.” Hermione let out that breath, a breath of
disbelief. He spoke as if he actually believed he stood a chance against her master. She doubted he
could even hold a minute against her.

“…so we're burdens to you now, huh? You don't need us huh?” Hermione's eyes closed
again, this time in annoyance, the shouting disturbing her sensitive hearing. Potter finally
smartened and realised that the losers he called friends were utterly useless.

“…go ahead without us then on your oh-so-noble journey of yours. I just thought that we at least
deserved a thank you.” Weasley was really quite full of himself, just like what Draco had told her.
Hermione shook her head. And not to mention, overly dramatic. She listened to his loud stomps fade
away as it got further and further.

She waited for it to disappear completely. Hermione's eyes reopened with a determined glint
in her eyes. Gracefully, she rose from her seat and silently slid open her cabin door…

-->



7. Impressions off the Wrong Foot
---------------------------------



Hermione stepped out into the train corridor, her senses immediately on alert to check her
surroundings. It was second nature to her, to examine the environment she was in immediately and
quickly. The corridor was deserted, quiet except for the muffled chatter of the students behind
closed doors and the deep rumbling of the train as it speeded along the railway. Hermione let out a
barely noticeable smile. It was just the way she liked it. It meant that there would be no
interruptions when she meets him for the first time.

She turned and walked the few steps that separated her compartment from his, ready to face the
challenge head on. Her hand came up to brush aside her brown hair that was obscuring her vision.
Noticing that the door to the compartment was wide open, she glanced up... and froze.

He sat next to the window, leaning against the wall. His legs were propped against the edge of
the opposite seat, slightly bent at the knees. His arms rested on one knee, crossed at the
forearms. His left fingers gripped lifelessly on the window ledge. His shoulders slouched down
forlornly as his head rested against the window. He was a picture of sadness and loneliness. His
eyes were blank yet deep at the same time. Deep and filled with pain and a hint of fear. The
emotion Hermione saw in his eyes reminded her of a small little lost boy. Those eyes drew her
complete attention, so much so that she could not look away as much as she tried. She stood in the
corridor, transfixed. Her brown eyes followed a lone tear as it leaked out from the corner of his
eye, watching it slowly slide down the side of his face and finally drop off the side of his jaw to
darken a small circle on his black jeans. Her eyes went back up to examine his face. She squinted
slightly from where she was as she looked on in closer detail. His eyes looked up into the open
sky, searching for something… or someone up in the heavens above. He looked vulnerable, scared and
lost. Hermione felt a strange stirring within her, something she had never experienced before.
There was a sudden urge within her to hold his hand and guide him away from whatever that was
haunting him at that moment then.

Suddenly her eyes shot down the corridor. Footsteps were coming her way. Someone was
approaching. Hermione whipped around and moved swiftly back into her cabin, closing the sliding
door behind her. She leaned her back against the door, her eyes darting around in confusion, as
though she had lost her bearings for a moment. What was she doing earlier? She had never lost
control of herself before... not like that. She had gone in, ready for any angry, headstrong,
immature behaviour, prepared to be brushed aside rudely after his fight with Weasely... basically
any other behaviour besides what she had actually witnessed earlier. His expression was...
intriguing. She had never seen someone so sad and as a death eater, she had definitely seen her
share. It was different for the obvious emotions that she had seen throughout her life - howls of
grief, shouts of fear, cries of sorrow, violence of anger. Yet his were quiet, hidden,
masked...locked up emotions shown in subtle expressions...

Hermione shook her head a few times and took a deep breath to clear her thoughts. What was she
thinking? Potter was her target! Her mission! She had to focus on her task. The big responsibility
that laid on her shoulders, how could she forget it? What she had just experienced with Potter
scared her… but she was not going to let it get in her way. She would not lose her self-control
again, not in front of Potter. It was just momentary surprise, caught unawares. It meant nothing,
nothing at all.

“Where is he? I don't believe what Ron said, Harry is not like that.” A loud voice
interrupted her thoughts. “I want to see it for myself.”

The noise disturbed Hermione greatly. It was not exactly gentle on her sensitive hearing and
Hermione chose to ignore the other reason that was nagging at the back of her mind. Footsteps
became louder. Repeated light footsteps. Two girls were coming, judging by the sound of it.
Hermione moved her ear away from the door, she was sure she would hear that voice loud and
clear.

“Harry! You really are here!” Hermione was right; whoever was the source of the noise certainly
would not be quieting down anytime soon.

“Ron just came storming in, swearing and cursing you to hell! What exactly is going on between
the two of you? And where have you been the past three months? You didn't even visit us at St.
Mungo's, or reply to any of our mail. Do you know how worried we were about you?” Hermione was
getting a headache as she went on and on. She wondered how Potter could call Weasley and that girl
friends for so many years.

“All we got was ignored mails from you and Dumbledore wouldn't tell us a thing the entire
summer. The least you could do was to tell us you were fine and where you were so that we could
find you. Spare a thought for us who were worried sick about you! The Weaselys and I were fretting
like crazy! Just what were you thinking doing something like that! ” That girl obviously was not
very smart if she could not figure his intention after three months of ignored mail.

“Now what is this about burdens and normal lives?” She finally finished ranting, to
Hermione's relief.

“Cho, I meant everything I said earlier and everything I did over the summer. Just...just leave
me alone.” Potter's voice was thankfully much easier on the ears than Cho Chang's. He
sounded tired but firm. Anyone would be tired listening to the barrage of questions. Cho Chang...
Hermione vaguely remembered Draco mentioning her before. Potter's love interest. Hermione was,
for lack of better words, disgusted. If that was the type of girl Potter liked, she was up for a
really difficult time in Hogwarts.

“What do you mean leave you alone?” Hermione winced slightly. Chang's voice, if possible,
went up another notch. “Leave you alone? After 3 months, all we've been through, you want me to
leave you alone!” Hermione took a deep breath in order to calm her nerves.

“I'm not surprised, Chang. I don't see any reason why anyone would want a hysterical
banshee like you around them,” A familiar voice drawled from the background. The trademark
footsteps were easily recognisable. Hermione smiled, relaxing slightly. Now, *his* voice was
*much* better on her ears. “Even if it is an idiot like Potter.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Another female voice cut in. Hermione tensed in irritation; no one tells a
Malfoy to do anything, especially Draco. Not that girl, whoever she was.

“Yes, shut up.” Chang cut in rudely. “No one asked for your opinion; you're not that good
yourself, Ferret-boy.” Now Hermione was getting to really dislike Cho Chang. “Why don't you run
home to Mommy and leave us alone?” She taunted in a mock-baby voice.

That was the last straw for Hermione. No one insulted her family *and Draco* like that, and
get away with it. Not when she was around to do something.

In a flash, she was standing in the doorway of Potter's compartment, wand outstretched. The
source of her anger started choking and gasping for air as the rest of the people stood still, too
shocked to respond to the new intruder. But Hermione was oblivious to the stares around her because
her eyes were focused on just one person, her wand held steady pointing at her. She had to be
punished for insulting Draco and her family.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her forearm, gripping it firmly. Hermione snapped her head up at
the touch, her eyes flashing. No one had ever dared to disturb her in fear of angering her
further.

“Stop it. Now.”

----------------------------------------------

Harry's firm gaze met the girl's flashing eyes. He challenged her silently, tightening
his grip on her forearm. Her eyes, partially obscured by her brown hair, stared back steadily,
meeting his challenge head on. Harry was surprised by the girl's response. She was stubborn and
unlikely to back down anytime soon. Breaking the eye contact with her for a moment, he saw Cho
still gasping for air, desperately clawing at her neck.

His eyes went back to meet the girl's intense gaze. He was at a loss. His intention was to
break her concentration so that she would lift the spell off Cho, but her focus was incredibly
strong. He had to do something because he doubted Cho could last very long. His eyes narrowed as
the girl gave a small smirk.

Her hand suddenly turned in his grasp and gripped onto his forearm, locking both their arms. She
pulled hard and twisted their entwined arms, caused him to fall forwards and his arm twisted
painfully. He reacted fast, stepping one step forward to stop his fall then twisting his body on
the spot to turn the motion onto the girl instead. The girl attempted to do the same thing to free
her arm from the twisting motion, turning on the spot. However, Harry was faster. Just as she went
under their entwined arms, Harry caught her in mid -turn and brought their arms down to her
shoulders, pulling backwards. She fell against him, her back hitting his chest hard enough to force
the air out of his lungs. With her right arm locked at her shoulders, she elbowed him with her left
arm in the stomach once, successfully leaving him breathless for a second time. She raised her
elbow, ready to slam it into the side of his head. Harry grabbed her arm and pushing it downwards
to their front.

With both arms holding hers down from the back, he pinned her onto him, locking her movements.
Her head, which was on his chest, turned sharply to the side to glare up at him as he looked down
at her. Her flashing eyes met his again. The stubbornness he saw earlier was even more obvious now
that they were so close. He found himself unable to tear away from the challenging glare; he only
knew that he could not back down …

-----------------------------------------------

Draco looked at the scene before him. After a fast exchange of moves, Hermione was pressed up
against Potter, as though in an embrace. They stood like that for a while, challenging each other
silently through their eyes as they held each other's gaze unblinkingly.

Chang was still hyperventilating in the corner, with the Weasley girl desperately trying to lift
the spell. Draco knew it was hopeless, it took some power to lift a spell cast by Hermione, power
that the Weasley girl did not have yet.

He had to end it fast, before Chang died of suffocation and the situation got worse. It was bad
enough, Potter and Hermione were not supposed to meet under such circumstances, nor were they
supposed to jump at each other's throats the moment they met. They had gotten off the wrong
foot, and it would be very difficult to fix the Potter's impression of her in the future for
the mission to succeed. The mission had to succeed for it was on both their lives. He promised Maia
to take care of her. There was no way he was going to allow his sister fail and lose her life over
the mission. He would do anything to prevent it, to protect her.

“I'm afraid that as much as I appreciate it, I must say that I do not need a girl, moreover
a stranger to stand up for me.” He drawled dryly as though he had not just witnessed his sister
nearly killing a fellow schoolmate and getting into a tussle with his long-time enemy.

His interruption appeared to have the desired effect. Hermione broke the eye contact with Potter
to look at him. He looked back, silently implying for her to stop. Her gaze shifted over to Chang,
her eyes hardening. Chang suddenly took a deep intake of air and started choking as the spell was
lifted.

Draco looked back to see the two of them still in the same position and frowned. He did not like
to see any male in such close contact with his sister, even if it was under the current
circumstances.

“That means, Potter, you can let go of her now.” Draco stated flatly.

Potter looked down at his position with Hermione. Then, as though finally the awkward position
they were in, he quickly released his grip on her arms and freed Hermione as though he was burnt by
her.

Hermione regained her composure quickly, her eyes masking up again. She turned her head slightly
to look at Potter for a while, her face expressionless. Her eyes then swept across the compartment
before resting on Draco. Their eyes met in a short instant before she broke the contact and strode
out of the compartment without a word, leaving everyone else speechless in her wake.

“That bitch!” Chang screeched suddenly, piercing the silence Hermione left hanging in the
compartment. “She nearly killed me!”

“Precisely the reason why I recommend, Chang, that you do not cross her path. I think she's
made it pretty clear that she can do that again. Easily.” Draco cut in smoothly. He might as well
take the opportunity to clear Chang from her path now. No time better than the present. His lips
curled into a small smirk. “And don't call her a bitch. Not everyone is like you.”

He scanned the cabin once more, before resting his cold eyes on Weasley. He flashed his
trademark smirk before striding away himself, just as Hermione did moments ago.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry watched Malfoy strut off, leaving Cho and Ginny speechless and staring after him. He was
not too bothered by his appearance in the train compartment. It had become an annual thing, for
Malfoy to show up at his cabin itching for a fight.

“Did he just call me a bitch?!?” Cho screeched shrilly, hurting his ears.

What was bothering him though, was the mysterious girl that had appeared earlier. Harry had
never seen her around before; he could not remember a student like her in Hogwarts.

“Just our luck to meet them on the train this year.” She ranted to no one particular.

He would remember a girl like her if he ever met her. She was… different, from all the other
girls in school. None of them would ever burst out of nowhere to attempt to kill a fellow
schoolmate, then challenge and fight him like the way she did.

“Harry?” He barely registered Ginny calling his name.

He frowned. That girl was wild. She was trouble, judging by the looks of it, the type of trouble
that he should avoid. He did not approve of her actions, not after she tried to kill his friend a
few moments ago. He did not like her attitude and character, or at least what he had seen of her
character. It was too hard, too stubborn and rebellious for his liking. He preferred strong but
gentle girls, something that she was not. However, he had to admit, that she had caught his
attention. She was mysterious, that girl… with that enigmatic air around her…

“Harry!” Cho's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Ginny and
Cho were standing in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

“Harry, you're coming back with us to the cabin right?” Ginny voiced out tentatively,
looking up at him. “Neville, Luna and Ron are still there waiting for us...” She trailed off,
unsure of how to continue.

At the sound of Ron's name, Harry sobered. He became cold and guarded again. “I'm not
going anywhere, Ginny. I meant what I said earlier.” He looked at her coldly. “Just leave me
alone.”

“Harry, please don't do this. It won't wor-“Ginny pleaded, taking a step forward towards
him.

“What won't work exactly?” Harry injected rudely. “Asking you nicely to leave? What would
work then? You want me to yell and shout at you to get out, or resort to using force?”

He had to cut straight to the point. He could not take any more, not after Ron, after the
appearance of the mysterious girl. Pushing his friends away was harder than he had expected... it
sucked the life out of him to lie and put up a tough front to his friends, to convince himself that
what he was doing was justified and for the better. They were his family and it hurt him to push
them away, it hurt him even more to say those hurtful words, to watch them get hurt by his
words.

He watched the hopeful glint in Ginny's eyes disappear as she diverted her eyes downwards,
sideward, anywhere else except his face. He watched the both of his friends become speechless and
awkward around him. He was watching the distance between his friends and himself pull longer even
as they stood right in front of him, unmoving.

“Oh...” Ginny said to her feet, “We'll just... just leave then.” She turned to walk out the
cabin, pulling on Cho's sleeve.

Cho did not want to give up yet though; she was going to give it a last shot. “Harry-”

“I don't want to hear it, Cho.”

Cho looked as though she had been slapped in the face. She glared at him, giving him a dirty
look, before stalking out of the cabin with Ginny in tow.

Harry watched his two friends leave his sight. Sinking back to his seat, he held his head in his
hands.

“Just leave...”

-->



8. In the Great Hall
--------------------



Green eyes scanned the crowd in front of him as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express. If someone
were to look from afar, they would see him blend into the pool of black-robed students, practically
impossible to spot amongst the countless bodies. Yet, as Harry stepped onto the Hogsmeade train
station, he never felt more alienated or more painfully foreign. He wanted this; he told himself
repeatedly in his head, he had wanted this estrangement; to isolated by himself; without weakness,
without distractions.

His wandering eyes caught on to the all-familiar red hair as he watched Ron, Ginny, Cho, Neville
and Luna got off the train. He noticed, with a pang, that they were all wearing frowns on their
expressions and briefly wondered if he was the cause of it all. He gazed at them from where he was
as they made their way to one of the horseless carriages. They were upset with him, disappointed
and hurt by his actions... but they were safe. He gave a sad smile. As long as they were safe,
Harry did not mind any sacrifice. They would get over him eventually, forget him and get on with
their normal lives...

The smile slowly faded however as his eyes followed them to the carriages and caught sight of
the Thestrals. Black as night, they were barely visible. His eyes took on a faltered bitter look as
the skeletal horse silently raised its head to reveal glowing white eyes that was staring straight
at him. The eyes could pierce his soul if it wanted; it was already doing the equivalent. Staring
directly into its eyes, Harry felt that it was examining him, digging through his emotions and
memories; those that he tried so hard to file away were suddenly unravelling and flashing within
him as though the Thestral's eyes unlocked the drawer in his mind.

The cold wind blowing against his face and the night view of London as he flew on the Thestral.
The urgency and frustration at being delayed by Umbridge. The circular room with the revolving
doors. The confusion and anger at going into all the wrong rooms repeatedly. The room of
prophecies. The eagerness of finding Sirius. The hundreds of shelves towering over him with the
countless glowing bottles of prophecies. The cold fear that slid into his heart when Lucius
Malfoy's voice rang out in the chamber. The fight that issued afterwards. The adrenaline that
pumped through his veins and the painful awareness that he had led his friends to their deaths. The
spark of hope that he allowed himself to light as the Order members apparated in. Sirius's loud
bark of laughter. The voice shouting out the curse. The green flash-

“Stop.”

He hissed through clenched teeth, tearing his eyes away from the eerie stare. His body tensed up
as he bent over, his hands slamming onto his knees for support. Ragged breaths escaped him as he
struggled with himself. Damn those Thestrals. Damn those memories.

“Stop!”

He forcefully whispered to himself, giving his body a jerk.

“What's wrong, Potter?” An all-too-familiar voice drawled above his head. “That hysterical
banshee sapped all the life out of you already?”

Harry's eyes snapped open to glare at the dark ground. The grip on his knees tightened as he
listened to his school rival taunt him for what was the second time in the day. Keep going Malfoy.
He never had better timing; he was the distraction that Harry needed so badly then.

A deep breath. A push off his knees and Harry was standing upright again. He had grown a little
again over the summer, he was now approximately as tall as Malfoy or perhaps even taller. Taking a
step closer, he fixed his eyes on him.

“Don't call her that.” His voice carried a hint of threat and challenge.

Malfoy took his challenge head on; stepping up to close the distance between them. Green met
grey as the two teenagers stood eye-to-eye, amongst the moving, bustling crowd that were oblivious
to the tension building up.

“Bite me.”

The silent challenge between them heightened as Malfoy smirked in response. In Harry's
opinion, it was a smirk itching to be smacked off. Before he could do anything though, Hagrid's
voice boomed loudly above them, calling out for the first years. The tension that had been built up
dissipated as quickly as it had been formed.

Malfoy chuckled, “I won't be too keen to lose house points just yet, Potter.”.

His grey eyes flicked behind Harry for a short moment. Another of his smirks flashed before he
suddenly turned away and strutted off to one of the empty carriages, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry watched their retreating figures for a moment before turning around... his eyes caught on
immediately on the one figure who was stepping onto the platform. Despite the black mass of
students around her, his eyes could differentiate her from the rest.

She stood out amongst the crowd...for reasons unbeknownst to him. Perhaps it was the glow she
had around her, illuminated by the streetlight above her. Her head slowly turned to one side as she
took in the sight around her, her brown hair swishing into a soft golden colour when it caught the
light. He watched her from where he stood as she stepped into the flow of people, pushed along by
the students heading in the direction of the carriages. He himself was also nudged and shoved along
the way, but his attention never swayed too far from the mysterious girl, even when she entered the
shadows, he was always able to make out her figure in the dark.

His eyes followed her as she manoeuvred her way through the crowd to one of the horseless
carriage. He noticed that she glanced over to the front of the carriage, and vaguely wondered if
she could see the Thestrals too. A hand came up to grasp the handle and a step up to the carriage.
Before she entered however, she turned her head around. Her eyes swept across the crowd and stopped
when she met his gaze. Neither of them looked away, she standing on the step of the carriage and
him standing amidst the moving crowd. Harry caught the corner of her lips hitch upwards for a
moment, just before he was knocked off balance by a second-year student. The eye contact broke as
he stumbled momentarily, but in that flash, she had disappeared into the carriage by the time he
looked up again.

Left standing there with a strange emotion, Harry kept his eyes on the carriage. It occurred to
him suddenly that it was the same carriage that Malfoy had entered minutes ago. She knew. She went
over to the carriage not by coincidence; she made her way there on purpose. Harry watched her do
it, just moments ago. He let out a disbelieving breath, the strange feeling disappearing, replaced
by another that felt remotely similar to betrayal. They knew each other, of course they did. Why
would she, otherwise, stand up for him earlier in the train? He shook his head as he looked up at
the carriage that sat his two school rivals, chuckling slightly. He should consider her a school
rival too, since they were so chummy together.

He put his hands in his pockets and started making his way to an empty carriage alone.

---------------------------------------------

“I know.”

Hermione sat upright in the carriage, directly opposite her brother. Her eyes did not meet his
gray ones as she stubbornly kept her gaze at the space next to him.

“Oh? You know?” Draco's sarcastic tone contrasted with Hermione's quiet statement. “You
know that you nearly jeopardised the mission earlier? Just because you couldn't control
yourself?”

“I don't regret it, Draco.” She said evenly, her eyes coming up to meet his. “She deserved
it.”

“No! Leah, you have to get used to such things! We're not in the high society here, these
are teenagers. Mudbloods, muggle-lovers, half-bloods, pure-bloods. They are all here! You have to
get used to all of these!” Draco exclaimed loudly and forcefully, before softening his voice and
expression, leaning forward to look at her intently.

“You've never came here before, of course you wouldn't know how it is. I should have
told you before we came.” He rested a hand on hers. “Leah, it is how it is. We don't like it,
but this is something that is out of our control. It's not worth the mission, not worth blowing
our mission for something as trivial as this. We know our family honour, we know our status, and we
know our value. That is all that matters because we have what it takes to prove it.”

“This mission, we have to complete it. Our lives depend on it, Leah. You know it.”

Hermione looked down at their hands before looking back at his intense gaze. “I do.”

Draco squeezed her hand softly, giving her a gentle smile. “We're in this together, Leah,
the two of us. We'll fix this and make Mother and Father proud. We won't disappoint
Master.”

“We haven't failed him before, Draco, and I don't think we intend to fail him now.” She
smiled back at him, before glancing out of the window, into the night sky.

Draco let out a laugh, releasing her hand and sitting back into his seat. “We've got a lot
to do then......”

--------------------------------------

The great hall was buzzing with commotion and life. The students chatted animatedly over their
house tables, the professors' table gradually filled up as they entered the great hall.
Everyone was looking forward to the sumptuous feast that was to come.

The heavy doors to the great hall opened with the rumbling creak that turned the heads of every
one, silencing the hall momentarily. A tall, stern-looking lady strode purposefully, trailed by a
line of young, wide-eyed first years. They padded along quietly down the aisle between the house
tables, their heads turning in every direction, mouths open in silent exclamation. The students
seated at the tables started whispering to each other, staring at the newcomers.

“They're so small!”

“Haha, look at them gape at the ceiling!”

“More people for us to torture!”

“Are those twins?”

Professor McGonagall led the first-years to the front of the hall, where on a tall stool, sat a
torn and tattered wizard's hat. The Sorting hat burst into life as it started singing, an
annual tradition of Hogwarts.

Harry took the time to scan the Professors' table, tuning out the song. His eyes swept past
the usual teachers - Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor Hooch and the others, pausing
slightly on Hagrid. A mixture of relief and happiness to see him brought a small smile to his face
as he watched him accidentally rattle the entire staff table as he laughed heartily at a joke
Professor Flitwick just told. As though sensing Harry's gaze, Hagrid looked back from across
the hall. Recognising Harry with a smile mostly hidden behind his bushy beard, his large hand came
up, knocking the table in the process, and gave a small wave. Harry's hand instinctively moved
to wave back, but he stopped it halfway, clenching into a fist. No, he reminded himself. No
distractions, no connections, no weaknesses. Not even Hagrid, he told himself as he pretended not
to notice his acknowledgement, his gaze continuing down the staff table.

Professor Dumbledore sat regally in the centre of the stall table, looking down and across the
Great Hall. Looking calm and poised, Harry noticed that he was wearing a kind smile on his face as
he observed yet another batch of students entering his school that year. Harry remembered a
conversation he had with Professor Dumbledore over the summer whilst sitting on the grass to admire
the stars.

*“Professor, would you close down Hogwarts? I mean, with Voldemort out there... and the
war...”*

*“No Harry, I would not. As long as there is still a Hogwarts student, I will always keep the
doors open for him.”*

*“Why? I bet many of them are going to withdraw from the school. Not that I want you to close
Hogwarts...”*

*“As you said, Harry, a war is on it**s way. The* *people already live* *in
fea**r and apprehension. Within the* *walls* *of Hogwarts**, Harry, I can keep
my students free and safe from such a life, perhaps not completely, but it is enough for a
childhood. I look at them and I see hope in their innocence, encouragement from their laughter and
determination from their carefree lives. In dark times* *like these**, Harry, you will
need it. Only with hope, you can fight a war. With encouragement and determination, you can win
it.”*

*“My students are my greatest joy and pride, Harry. That is why I fight to keep them
safe.”*

He wondered if Professor Dumbledore had remembered what he had shared with him that night as he
clapped for a student who was sorted in Ravenclaw.

Next to Professor McGonagall's empty seat was Snape, looking as sour-faced and pale as ever.
Over the summer, Professor Dumbledore had him to train under Snape in various aspects of magic -
potion-making, dark magic theory, defence magic and even a little of physical combat. He had not
forgiven him for snubbing Sirius the year before, but he had put it aside to learn from him. Snape
was an equally unwilling participant in the arrangement, but had ultimately heeded the
headmaster's plans to train him. The past summer had been rough; Snape had not gone easy on
him. He guessed the mutual hate would never disappear, just temporarily put aside for larger
matters.

Next to Snape sat a pudgy man who was babbling animatedly to him. Harry squinted, wondering if
he was the new Defence against the Dark Arts professor. He looked like one who experienced more
riches and luxury than dark arts, judging from his size and expensive-looking robes. He was
extremely chatty, Harry observed, as he went on and on to Snape who sat stiffly in his seat with
obvious annoyance.

Professor Trelawney sat at the end of the table, draped in her coloured shawls, looking very
much like an insect with her magnified eyes. He let out a bitter chuckle. After all those years
thinking that she was a fraud who predicted his death in so many ways, who knew that one of her
predictions could actually affect his life so drastically since he was born? Did she know that she
had been the one to make the prophecy that everyone was speculating about in the papers? The same
prophecy that nearly caused his friends their life? The same one that caused him... to lose his
godfather.

For a moment, he felt a rush of anger at the woman who sat there sipping her pumpkin juice. If
she had not made that damned prophecy, he would not have had to go through everything. His parents
would be alive, Sirius would be alive, and everything would be all right. How could he face her in
Divination classes? Knowing that she was the one who changed everything with the prophecy? Harry
shook his head again; he knew it was wrong to blame her. It was destiny. Fate had chosen this path
for him, as Professor Dumbledore had said. No prophecy could change that. He had to accept it, to
walk the path with courage.

“Granger, Hermione”

Professor McGonagall's crisp voice rang out in the Great Hall. Harry turned his attention
back to the sorting. There were no longer any first-years waiting to be sorted in the front but the
professor remained standing in front of the stool, reading from the long scroll of names.

“Granger, Hermione.” She called out for a second time. The murmurs and whispering had started;
everyone was looking around for the mysterious student. Harry wondered, as he too searched around,
why the student was left to the last instead of being alphabetically sorted like all the other
first-years. From the sea of heads, a movement caught his eye at the other side of the hall, where
the Slytherin table was. A figure had stood up and begun walking to the front of the hall.

That girl! Harry recognised her instantly from where he was. It was that girl from the train.
She definitely was not a first year, was she a transfer? Were there transfers in wizarding schools?
Harry did not know. No wonder he could not remember who she was; she was new! He vaguely heard one
of the Gryffindors comment that she was sitting at the Slytherin tables. His eyes riveted back to
where he had first spotted her and true enough as he suspected, Malfoy was seated not far away,
with what was an anxious expression on his face. What was *he* anxious about? If that girl,
Hermione Granger, could get sorted into Slytherin? They had to be pretty close for him to be
anxious about her getting sorted into the same house as he was.

Harry watched the mysterious girl stride to the front of the hall, her face expressionless as
Harry had seen earlier. No doubt she will be placed into Slytherin.

--------------------------------------------------

“Granger, Hermione.”

Hermione had been seating at the Slytherin table, watching the Hogwarts Sorting for the first
time when she heard the lady call out. Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher
and the Head of Gryffindor. She was wondering about her own sorting. Surely she would be sorted
into Slytherin? Did she have to go up and put on that tattered hat though? They had not mentioned
it in the letter of acceptance, so she had followed Draco to sit at the Slytherin tables. She sat
near him; a few other students separated them. Sitting quietly, she observed her brother and his
friends. Draco was certainly popular enough amongst his housemates, who were not that much to her
liking; especially the girls who were fawning over him shamelessly. Hermione had to restrain
herself from losing control again and dragging the girls aside. Instead, she remained where she
was, watching on uncomfortably at how he flirted with the girls and joked with his friends.

“Granger, Hermione.”

Her head jerked up at the sound of her name called the second time. There was no mistake; she
was to be sorted at that instant. Immediately, she stood up and started walking to the front of the
hall. All heads began to turn in her direction, and she could hear whispering erupting from all
tables.

“Who is she?”

“Is she a transfer?”

“Did you see? She was seating over at the Slytherin tables.”

“I bet she's going to be in Slytherin.”

She ignored the murmurs and the stares, simply making her way to the front. Even the professors
were all looking at her curiously. Dumbledore, she noticed, was observing her very intently. All
that too, she pretended not to acknowledge as she approached the tall stool. Professor McGonagall
was looking at her sternly, presumably unpleased by her lack of promptness. Without a word, she sat
on the stool and waited for her sorting. In that short moment, she realised that she did not know
how the hat worked. Hogwarts: A history had never mentioned it. All it wrote was that the Sorting
Hat would sort the students based on the characteristics of each house.

She felt the hat brush the top of her head for a brief second, before it shouted out its
decision.

“Slytherin!”

Was that it? She wondered as she glanced up at the Professor. There was no indication to stay,
thus she got off the stool gracefully and begun walking back to her seat. Inwardly she was happy to
be in Slytherin, to be in the same house as Draco was. She searched for Draco as she walked back
and saw him smile fondly at her. She was about to smile back when amidst the clapping and
cheers....

“Gryffindor!”

Hermione stopped in her tracks, a few steps away from the Slytherin table. The cheers died
quickly and the Hall turned silent. She turned around to look at the Sorting Hat with a frown,
before glancing up at Professor McGonagall. She looked unsure. Turning around, she questioned the
Sorting Hat.

“Are you sure?”

“She belongs in Gryffindor.”

Never before in the history of Hogwarts had the Sorting Hat remade its decision for a student,
much less from an obvious Slytherin to a Gryffindor, the opposing houses. A look of uncertainty
crossed the professor's face before she made her decision.

“Well, the Sorting Hat has decided. Gryffindor it is.”

Hermione hesitated. She had wanted to stay in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat was
wrong, she belonged in Slytherin. She was a Malfoy after all! How did it figure out that she should
be in Gryffindor instead?

“Miss Granger, the Gryffindor table is this way.” Professor McGonagall's voice cut through
her thoughts.

She looked around her. Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat were looking at her expectantly.
The teachers were all staring at her; Dumbledore was still looking very intently at her behind his
spectacles. The students were silent and watching, waiting for her next move.

She made up her mind quickly and changed directions. Walking over to the Gryffindor table, she
could feel the eyes of the entire hall on her. Holding her head high, she avoided everyone's
gaze and continued down the table right till the end where there was a space. Promptly but
gracefully, she seated herself down, feeling quite self-conscious. When she glanced up however, she
was surprised.

Seated directly in front of her was Harry Potter.

-----------------------------------------------------

*Hey! The next chap is finally up as promised by the end of the week! Hope u guys like
it...*

*Tell me your comments in your review!* =)

*Till then.*

*Good Things are Worth Waiting for.*

-->



9. Midnight Comtemplations and Morning Encounters
-------------------------------------------------



“Is she the one?”

Albus Dumbledore sat calmly behind his table, speaking to no one in particular in his office.
Yet from nowhere, a deep voice replied his question.

“I believe so.”

Clear blue eyes moved up to look at one of the many shelves, where an old tattered wizard's
hat was placed amongst many trinkets and objects. It stood out starkly from its neighbours for the
rest of Dumbledore's collections were clean and peculiar- looking, whilst its own appearance
was dirty and ordinary. Upon closer look though, it did have a strange quality about it. The
crumples on the hat resembled a face, an old and wrinkled face complete with eyes, nose and even a
mouth which suddenly split open to talk.

“She is a death eater, Dumbledore. I think you should know.” The Sorting Hat said from where it
was.

“If she is who we think she is, I'm not at all surprised.” Dumbledore put his hands
together, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.

“She has finally appeared.” He smiled to himself.

“She was sent here on a mission, Dumbledore,” The Sorting Hat said seriously. “By the Dark
Lord.”

“To get close to Harry?” Dumbledore asked calmly, leaning forward in interest as though he was
commenting on the weather. “Or to kill me?”

“You expected this?” The Sorting Hat asked incredulously

“It was a possibility that crossed my mind.” Dumbledore admitted, standing up to look out of the
window. “But I don't think I will need to feel threatened by this, do I?” A knowing smile
appeared on his face.

“Have you *not* thought of anything, Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore chuckled as he continued looking out at the night view of Hogwarts Grounds from his
window. “You wouldn't have put her in Gryffindor if she did not have the characteristics of
one.”

“I did put her in Slytherin at first.” The Sorting Hat reminded the Headmaster. When he said
nothing in reply, the Hat sighed.

“She is very strong in her Slytherin characteristics, almost exactly like the Malfoys.” It
admitted, “But there is that one difference that I cannot overlook...”

“The Gryffindor in her.” Dumbledore offered, not turning around from his position next to the
window.

“Yes... I suppose you can call it that.” The Sorting Hat agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Dumbledore turned to look back at the wrinkled old hat up on his shelf. His white hair shined in
the moonlight that shone in from outside as it illuminated his entire figure. The pleased look on
his face was unmistakable at what the Sorting Hat said next.

“I sense it deep within her. Almost buried, but nonetheless... there.”

------------------------------

Harry sat at the window seat, a leg bent up against the opposite wall. In the midst of the dark
dorm that he was in, he was the only one still awake. It wasn't the snoring that sounded
throughout the room that was keeping him from his sleep though. It was everything that had happened
that day. Ron, Cho, Malfoy... and that new girl, she was the main culprit. She was the one who was
keeping him awake. Everything about her... she was just. So mysterious. And her re-sorting! Just
something else to make her even more unfathomable to him.

He leaned his head backwards, resting it against the wall behind him. He could still see her
face clearly in his mind when she looked up from the Gryffindor table. She was still wearing that
same expressionless look he saw on the train, but he could swear that he saw a flicker of surprise
in her eyes. Was it that surprising to see him? He didn't know. For the whole time of the
dinner, they did not speak a single word to each other. He did not what he could say... welcome her
to Gryffindor? She did not exactly look ecstatic to be sorted into Gryffindor, not with Malfoy in
Slytherin. Introduce himself? Chances are that she already knew everything from Malfoy. Apologise
for fighting with her earlier? She was the one who tried to kill Cho, he did nothing wrong. There
was nothing. He kept silent and so did she.

The entire time, she pretended that he did not even exist. Never once did she look at him,
except for that single glance that she had given him after she sat down. He could not really name
the emotion that he was feeling from the treatment he was getting from her or why he was feeling
it. He only knew that he did not like it.

He turned his head slightly to look at the moon out in the cloudless night sky. He should not be
bothered with such things now, not at this point of time! What was a girl compared to the
approaching war? He thumped his head back once against the wall softly, as though reprimanding
himself. Just the first day, and he had already lost his control over things, numerous times. How
was he going to last the whole year?

He hopped off the window seat quietly and walked over to his four-poster bed. Brushing his
fingers on his comforter, he wondered how he was going to live through the year avoiding every one?
Where was he going to get that strength from?

He looked back out of the window in front of him, staring up at the moon for a long time, before
closing his eyes in defeat and pulling the blinds around his bed.

--------------------------------------------------

Hermione turned over in her bed to face the window, gazing up at the moon silently. How could
she have been sorted into Gryffindor? When was a Malfoy *ever* sorted into Gryffindor?
Granted, she was adopted, but she was nevertheless a Malfoy. She had never felt so distant, so
foreign from her family before. She just realised that she had never been bothered by the fact that
she was not of Malfoy's blood. She had just accepted the fact and went on with training. But
now, all she could think about was how she did not... truly belong in the family, how she was never
truly accepted by her parents.

Now she was in Hogwarts yet so distant from Draco. What was the point? She was even further away
from him than being back in the Malfoy Mansion. *What was the point?*

The mission. He couldn't help at all. They couldn't even be seen together. How was he
going to assist her at all? The weight of the situation suddenly dawned onto her. She was all alone
in this mission. This mission that the Dark Lord gave her, because he thought she was ready. She
couldn't let him down. Everything depended on it. No, she was ready. Despite the odds, she
would complete the mission because it was all she got. The Dark Lord's faith was all she that
she had got. It was that which made her feel that she belonged somewhere, that she belonged to the
Dark Side, by his side. It was what she needed to prove that she was a true Malfoy.

Hermione sat up in her bed, resting her back gently against the bed rest. She analysed her
situation. The odds were large, huge against her. Draco and her had already recognised that.
Without his help and the obvious lack of welcome from her new housemates, the situation looked
hopeless. Biting her lower lip, her brow furrowed as she considered the circumstances more
carefully. Potter was alienating himself from everyone, including the weird, new student who fought
with him the moment they met. He was going to be alone in the school... and judging by things, so
was she! It would be easier to observe him, for them to be together, for her to catch him
off-guard. If she worked it out carefully, it could be turned into her advantage. From this angle,
being in Slytherin would have made everything more difficult a thousand-fold!

She smiled, pivoting her head slightly on the headboard to look back out at the moon. She would
prove that she was a true Malfoy, prove to everyone that the Dark Lord's faith in her was not
misplaced.

Thinking this, she shifted back into a lying position and shut her eyes... there was a long way
ahead of her.

-----------------------------------

Harry padded down the spiral staircase that led to the Gryffindor Common Room. He had woken up
early mainly to avoid his roommates and basically everyone. He did not want to face the whole
awkward and ugly situation anymore. Besides, he had been waking up early over the summer for his
training, he was quite used to it. Snape had wanted to make sure that he was as miserable as he
with the whole arrangement.

He stepped into the Common Room, which was empty as expected. The fireplace was cackling
slightly. The house elfs must have came to extinguish it not too long ago. Walking across the room,
he vaguely remembered how he and Ron had stayed up past midnight at the study tables just to invent
different ways of how Harry could die. He let out a small chuckle. Those were times that he would
treasure because it was times when he felt like a normal teenager, joking about homework with
friends and not The-Boy-Who-Lived who had to worry about a psychotic Dark Lord after his life.
Walking up to the Common Room exit, the portrait swung open before he could say the password. He
looked up in surprise... to see her.

She froze mid-step, just before they would collide into each other. She glanced up at him, her
hands pulling the ends of the towel at her neck. That expressionless face again. The face that
bothered him so much last night. Remembering the sleeplessness that mainly she had caused him, he
felt a prick of indignation. What was she doing up so early anyway?

An awkward silence hung in the air between them. Harry tried to find something to say, clearing
his throat louder than usual...

“Sorry.”

Harry blurted out and side-stepped to allow her to pass but his eyes never left her. He watched
her step into the common room and as she walked past him... turned her head slightly towards him.
He saw that small smile that appeared and the slight nod that she gave him just before she turned
her head back and continued walking up to the girls' dormitory, leaving him standing there by
the portrait.

Harry stood unmoving, staring after her with a sensation of being swept away. He blinked once,
letting out a breath he did not realise he was holding. Again, she had left him completely
mystified and star-struck! With a simple small and a nod from her and he was caught. What was with
him? He let a small laugh of disbelief, running a hand through his messy hair. She had her charm,
Harry had to admit. And he could not deny that he did not notice it... but ultimately, she was
off-limits. The image of her climbing into Malfoy's carriage flashed in his mind. Harry blinked
hard. No, not that. The situation! And he had to remember Cho and Ginny! He pushed them away to
keep them safe, not to date another girl.

*Especially not that girl.*

Turning back to walk out of the portrait hole, he couldn't stop the quirk at the side of his
lips as he remembered the girl who had just walked through the very same door.

-------------------------------------------------

Hermione scanned the Great Hall as she stepped in for the second time. It looked very much
different in the day. Maybe it was the crowd last night but the Great Hall had looked much bigger
and grander yesterday when she first walked in. The area was quite empty and quiet; she supposed
Hogwarts students do not wake up early, even if it was the first day of school. Scanning the
Gryffindor table, she spotted Potter right at the end, exactly where they had been sitting the
night before.

Making her decision in an instant, she moved purposefully towards the seat opposite him. Without
a word, she gracefully slid into the seat opposite him. She watched him look up from his breakfast.
Their eyes locked for a quick moment, before he averted his gaze back to his plate and awkwardly
reach for his glass of pumpkin juice.

He was bothered by her presence, Hermione observed with satisfaction. Not all was lost indeed.
Suppressing a smile, she busied herself with breakfast, pretending to be oblivious to the the
awkward atmosphere that was building up between them. However, she was aware of Potter's every
move - be it the occasional glances at her or the hesitant, unsure movements that he was making. It
was part of her training over the years, to be able to watch a person secretly. She was trained for
this.

Her alert senses detected approaching footsteps in her direction, footsteps that were
characteristically quick and purposeful. Putting down her own glass of pumpkin juice, she turned
around to see the Professor who had been in-charge of the Sorting Ceremony the night before. Tall
and stern-looking, she towered over the two of them seated at the table. Potter had also looked up
from his plate at notice of her arrival.

“Good Morning, Miss Granger.” she greeted crisply with a nod to each of them. “Mr. Potter.”

“Morning, Professor.” Potter greeted in response from opposite the table.

Hermione said nothing in response, merely waiting for what the Professor had to tell her.

“Miss Granger, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office before class. Once you finish
your breakfast, please make your way down to his office. I have to be here to hand out the
timetables.”

“Potter,” She turned her gaze to the other side of the table. “Since you know where it is, you
will show her the way there.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw his eyes widen in surprise. She was not the only one who
noticed; the Professor's gaze turned stern as she silently showed her insistence. Suppressing
yet another smile, she maintained her usual expressionless face, showing no sign of any emotion at
the instructions.

“Here are your own time-tables. Have a good first day, both of you.”

Hermione looked at the slip of paper in her hand. Potions, defence against the dark arts,
charms, transfiguration, astronomy, care of magical creatures, ancient runes, herbology. She never
thought she would ever hold her own Hogwarts timetable in her hand. Looking at her packed schedule,
she did not feel distressed or upset like a normal student would, but rather a strange sense of
contentment and excitement.

She looked up to see Potter scanning his own timetable and wondered which classes he would be
taking. Since they were in the same house, they should have relatively similar timetables right?
She eyed the sheet of paper in his hand as she reached out for the jug of milk that was across the
table. It would be beneficial if she had a copy of his schedule.

As she brought the jug over, the side of it knocked into Potter's goblet. Tipping over in
his direction, pumpkin juice drenched his side of the table and down to his lap. Hermione feigned a
gasp as both of them jumped up from their seats.

“Oh! I'm sorry!”

She apologised at the same time he exclaimed in surprise. He quickly put down the paper on the
dry area on the table and grabbed a few napkins instead to dry off the liquid on his robes.
Hermione's eyes averted from the mess she created to the temporarily-forgotten piece of paper.
Casting a duplication charm wandlessly and silently, she too put her own timetable on the table,
conveniently next to the duplicated copy that had appeared on the table.

She took out her wand and cast verbally a quick drying-off spell that cleared the darkening
patch on his robes and a cleaning spell that removed the mess of pumpkin juice and crumpled napkins
on the table.

He let out an embarrassed, awkward smile as both of them sat back down. “Uh, thanks. I
didn't think of that.” Hermione gave him a small polite smile in response.

“We should get going.” She commented as she reached out to take her two sheets of paper at the
side.

“Oh! Yes.... Yes, we should.” He sprung up quickly, grabbing his own timetable and stuffing it
into his bag.

“Um... this way.” He indicated with a jerk of his head as he swung his bag across his
shoulder.

Hermione stood up from the table and followed him quietly out of the hall, satisfied with the
extra sheet of paper that was now in her bag. That was settled easily enough, she thought with a
sense of triumph. But that feeling quickly dissipated as she frowned at the thought of the next
thing she had to handle - the meeting with Dumbledore.

-----------------------------------------------

HEY!!

yeshhhhh... i do know that this is WAYYYYYY overdue - more than 2 months. I'm making u guys
wait longer and longer for each chapter, aren't i? bet all of you can't wait to chase after
me. So so so sorry.

I have nothing to say in defence, only with the usual reason of my schoolwork. I sincerely hope
that you understand and still continue to lend me your support. Thanks for the patience and
support

The good news is, my exams are finally over and the long break has arrived! So i'll be
churning out chaps faster now.

Stay tuned! (and really do review please :p)

*Good Things are Worth Waiting for.*

-->



10. 'First' Meetings and Propositions
-------------------------------------



Two teenagers walked down a hallway in silence. Only one set of footsteps echoed softly along
the deserted area and seemed to travel down the endless empty distance. The girl`s eyes travelled
around her surroundings, exploring and observing every arch and corner yet always aware of the
figure beside her. How his brows had been furrowed in a slight frown not long after they left the
Great Hall, how he would run his left hand through his messy raven hair occasionally, even how his
thumbs had been slowly rubbing down on his index fingers. Judging from the faraway look in his
eyes, she doubted that he himself noticed what he was doing. Storing her observations into memory,
she bit her lip slightly as she wondered what could be on his mind...

“Crabbe, Goyle! Hurry up, will you? I can't stand Pansy at breakfast. God forbid, especially
not the first day.”

Hermione looked up at the echo that resounded through the hallway. The voice did something to
her. It was like what she read in the books, her heart skipped a beat when she recognised who it
was. It was Draco. Draco was here.

A quick sideward glance told her that Potter too had heard him. Despite her inner excitement,
Hermione observed that he had lost that faraway look in his eyes, now replaced by a look of, by
what it looked to be a mixture of irritation and resignation.

The footsteps were approaching. Hermione could identify Draco's almost immediately - light
and almost silent, save for that barely noticeable drag on his left leg. His footsteps were
accompanied by two others which were heavy and clumsy. Those must be Crabbe and Goyle. They were
coming in their direction. That odd jiggle of excitement that she was feeling grew.

She took another quick check at her company. His eyes have changed as she had observed. Although
his expression was as unreadable as before, she could detect how his jaw had firmly set, how his
eyes have hardened, how his overall expression had tensed up slightly. As his features changed
subtly, Hermione felt the atmosphere change. From a relatively comfortable (as comfortable as she
could get with Potter) feel, she suddenly felt tension building, a cold and unfriendly mood
creeping in slowly. Hermione frowned as the bubble of excitement that was expanding in her burst
unceremoniously, replaced by a deep discomfort.

“We're here.”

Hermione blinked at a stone gargoyle, her thoughts about Potter coming to an abrupt halt.
Rearing its wings, its teeth were bared in a silent roar. Her brows knitted together into a deeper
frown as she stared down at the ferocious guardian of the headmaster's office. It seemed to be
a sign that screamed out to her that she was not welcome, an omen roaring out that whatever that
was waiting for her inside was not going to be pleasant. A sideward glance to Potter told her that
his attention was now on her, his eyes intently watching her. Immediately, her frown cleared and
was replaced by her usual expressionless face.

Glancing in the direction of where Draco's voice had come from, Potter started to say that
she should be going in, in order - for what, she would never know. Because before he could finish
the sentence, a strong but silky voice had cut in.

“In trouble already, Potter? Within twelve hours of arriving at Hogwarts? That must be a
record.”

Both of them turned to see Draco Malfoy walking up to them with his characteristic smirk,
flanked by Crabbe and Golye.

“You got the new girl into the mess too?” Malfoy shook his head in amusement as he let out a
mocking chuckle that signalled accompanying sniggers from behind him. “How do you manage it?”

“Shut it, Malfoy.”

Potter had stepped forward, slightly obstructing her view of Draco. Instinctively, she moved her
head to get a better position. A lazy smile played on his lips as their eyes met slightly above
Potter's shoulders. Hermione's attention was fixed ahead and failed to take note of what
she would usually notice immediately - Potter's shoulders had visible tensed up at the exact
same moment his school rival had shifted his eyes to meet hers and let out that charming smile of
his.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“You're the new girl.”

Everyone present knew he said it as a statement, not as a question. Harry knew it and `New
Girl' behind knew it too, since she said nothing in reply. He could not vouch for Malfoy's
two goons though, who just stood there dumbly as they had in the past six years.

“I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy.” Malfoy said, his eyes never breaking with hers.

God, Harry thought to himself, how un-creative could he get? He used that line six years ago. On
him! Stupid Malfoy. But of course, she wouldn't know that. She wasn't in Hogwarts six years
ago.

Of course she would fall for that stupid line.

“Hermione Granger.”

Harry closed his eyes as he heard her soft yet clear voice from behind him. Five seconds with
him and she gave her name right away. He had spent more than five hours with her and all he got was
... mostly silence and about six words. Harry could barely squelch that unreasonable feeling of
indignation building up with him as he watched the two of them. He wanted to smack that irritating
smirk of Malfoy's face. No, he wanted to shove Hermione Granger here straight into the office,
*then* smack Malfoy's face. But he could not say the password yet, not when there were
other unnecessary people around. The thought of it was getting more tempting by the second, and his
resolve was ebbing away quickly as he watched his school rival smiling away at her.

“Pity you got sorted into the wrong house. You should ask for a re-sorting later.” Malfoy nodded
at the gargoyle behind him. “You don't want to be stuck with a bunch of ... idiots like
Scarhead here.”

As he said this, his cold-grey eyes shifted to meet his directly, a mocking smirk twisting his
features to taunt him. *Resolve, Potter. Remember your resolve.* He returned his stare with
equal intensity.

“At least she's not with blocks of wood,” he glanced behind Malfoy, “and animals like
ferrets and snakes.” He replied coolly. Internally though, he was feeling almost the exact
opposite.

He watched in mild satisfaction Malfoy's eyes narrowed hatefully at his reply. Crabbe and
Goyle simply continued standing there without any change in expression. Behind him, he could not
notice any obvious reaction without turning around.

But he couldn't turn around.

Because about two seconds after his scathing reply left his lips, a nagging thought surfaced
deep in him. *Why was he so bothered?* By turning around, it meant that he accepted the answer
that was peeking through. It was an answer that he did not want to admit. He didn't even want
to *think* about what it was. All he knew was that by turning around, it signified things;
things that he was not supposed to do, to have... to think of. No, he wouldn't turn around. He
rooted his feet to the ground, his body stiffened to face Malfoy, fighting against his temptation
to turn around. His eyes stubbornly locked with Malfoy's ahead, not that he was making it
difficult at all. He was glaring back at him with contempt, a look that Harry was all too familiar
with.

All his other senses though, were high on the alert to pick up on anything behind him. His ears
picked up a soft grinding sound, a movement by something aside from Hermione, and a new person
joining the crowd outside the Headmaster's office.

“Ah, Ms Granger! Good Morning.”

It was the Headmaster himself, Professor Dumbledore.

Upon hearing his greeting, Harry promptly broke the staring competition that he and Malfoy were
having and turned around. Dressed in deep purple robes, Professor Dumbledore looked regal yet
familiar. After all, he had been seeing him all summer. His kind blue eyes swept across each and
every one of them, acknowledging all present.

“I believe I had only requested for Ms Granger. “

Harry inwardly smirked as he watched Malfoy get disconcerted upon hearing what Professor
Dumbledore said.

“Professor McGonagall had to give out the timetables. She asked me to bring her here.” He
explained, looking pointedly at Malfoy after that.

“I thank you for your trouble, Harry.” His blue-eyed gaze shifted to Malfoy. “And Mr Malfoy? Is
there anything that I can help you with?”

“No, Professor. We were on our way to breakfast. Just stopped to welcome Hermione here,” he shot
another charming smile to her as he addressed her in that silky voice of his, to Harry's great
annoyance, “to Hogwarts.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Draco.”

Harry could see the sincerity and serenity in his eyes, as though a grandfather was talking to
his grandson. He was amazed. He was sure that Professor Dumbledore knew everything about Malfoy,
how could he still treat him with such sincerity was beyond his own understanding. Of course,
unless Professor Dumbledore was just a really really good actor, but Harry doubted so. It was a
wisdom that he had, discipline and principles that he possessed that allowed him to treat everyone
the way he did - with respect. Harry wondered if he himself could reach that level when he was
Professor Dumbledore's age. At this, Harry realized he had no idea how old his Headmaster was.
And there he was, thinking that he was quite close to him.

“But I'm afraid that I'll need some time alone with Miss Granger here. Perhaps all of
you could have your breakfast first. I hear that the house elfs have prepared delicious pancakes
today!” Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in merriment.

Then again, maybe he should ask about his age another time instead. Harry smiled at Professor
Dumbledore, which faded a little when he laid his eyes on her. She stood there silently, with her
expressionless face as usual, which somehow seemed to frustrate him even more. He briefly glanced
back at the trio behind him, before walking off in the opposite direction of the Great Hall.

-----------------------------------------------------

*It would be so easy*, Hermione thought to herself as she walked silently behind Albus
Dumbledore, *almost too easy to kill him**, right* *now**.*

But. It was not her mission, she reminded herself as she stepped into the lighted office of the
Headmaster. Immediately, her senses shot out to check the unfamiliar environment. She was looking
for an emergency escape route, looking for any sources of danger, looking for simply anything out
of the ordinary. But as she grasped her surroundings, she realized that almost everything was out
of the ordinary.

The phoenix was the first to catch her attention. It stared plaintively at her from its perch,
unmoving and silent. Hermione was fascinated by it. She had never seen a real phoenix before, only
reading about it on books. Her eyes took in every detail; every single feather, the sleek red coat,
the graceful arch of its neck. It had a regal air around it as it stood there proudly... elegantly.
Its pearl black eyes just gazed at her but she felt as though it was seeing beyond her physically,
but scrutinising everything part of her, inside out. Suddenly, it blinked, breaking the eye contact
between them. Opening its beak, the phoenix let out a long lasting note that seemed to just hang in
the air. The sound gave her a tranquil feeling, which calmed the nerves that she had been
controlling ever since she stepped into the room.

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

Dumbledore had said it quietly. But despite the gentleness in his voice, the peaceful note in
the air was still broken. It brought Hermione's attention back and she realized that he had
already sat down behind the large mahogany table piled with odd things, books and scrolls.

“Please take a seat, Ms Granger.” He said pleasantly from behind his table.

Hermione took the seat directly opposite him, and looked at him expectantly. She knew he did not
call her in to welcome her to Hogwarts. She trusted her instincts, and her instincts told her that
he knew something.

“Lemon drop?”

She just wished he would get to the point fast.

“No, thank you.” Hermione replied evenly, without removing her gaze on him.

She watched him calmly take one for himself, close the container then slowly put his hands
together, rest his elbows on the armrest as he leaned back into his chair. Only when he was
settled, did his clear blue eyes meet hers square ahead.

“I know your secret, Ms Granger.”

Those few words struck her, like a cold heavy knife stabbing deep into her. But her exterior
remained emotionless, not letting a single thing away, just as she had been trained. She calmed
herself in a matter of moments. It did not mean that she was exposed. It merely meant that he did,
in fact, know something. She just did not know what.

“I'm afraid I have too many, Sir.” She responded, unfazed. “Which one are you referring
too?”

Dumbledore let out a small smile.

“Yes, youngsters nowadays do have many secrets. I know just one, Ms Granger. This one.”

Without him moving an inch, the glass orb that had been resting atop one of the thick volumes of
books on his table floated steadily up, right in front of her eyes.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Wandless magic?”

“Oh no, Ms Granger. Every witch and wizard is capable of doing wandless magic, to a certain
extent. I have no doubt of your wandless magic capabilities.” His blue eyes twinkled behind his
spectacles playfully. The orb hung in the air unmoving during the entire time he was talking.
Superb control and focus, she observed.

“This is not a simple wandless levitation charm, Ms Granger.”

She eyed the glass orb in front of her, the swirl of colours in it brought out beautifully by
the sunlight shining in from outside. But Hermione was not interested in that. Her senses reached
out to the orb, feeling around it, looking for magical traces. None. Hermione frowned in confusion,
her emotion showing for the first time since she stepped into the office.

She glanced back at the Headmaster, who sat in his chair gazing intently at her, the amused
glint still in his eyes. Her hand came up to reach for the orb. Her fingers lightly touched the
smooth surface of the glass. Slowly, her fingers slid down towards the bottom of the orb. Then she
felt it.

The slight disturbance in the air around the orb. There was a layer of air that surrounded the
orb. Her fingers spread around the orb to hold it and she felt the layer vanish, the weight of the
glass orb suddenly pressing into her palm. The air was holding the orb up in the air!

Her eyes shot to look at him in shock and surprise. His face now carried a genial smile, he knew
that she had figured it out.

“You are an air elemental too?” She asked, almost breathless in her new find.

She had never met another one like her. She had always thought she was the only one. Elementals
were rare, never had she ever thought that she would ever meet someone like her.

“Yes, Ms Granger. I am an air elemental like you.” He said patiently. “I sensed you last night
at the Sorting Ceremony.”

“Sense me? I didn't sense anything.” No wonder he had been staring at her during the
Ceremony the night before.

“Your abilities aren't developed enough yet, your elemental senses are not honed to detect
another.” He explained calmly. He leaned forward, his elbows moving from the armrests onto the
table.

“You need training, Ms Granger. I only ask to allow me to guide you as you learn to control and
master this ability of yours.”

At that, she became guarded and alert again. She still did not know for sure that that was his
true intentions. “I don't need training. I can control the element already. I don't need
your help.”

All her trainings when she was young never included training her elemental abilities, simply
because there were no other elementals around to train her. All that she had mastered were
experimented by herself.

“Do you believe that, Ms Granger? Your abilities can be dangerous if you do not control it
properly.” He said knowingly as he looked at her behind his half-moon spectacles.

Memories of all the incidents when she had been provoked or upset came up. Maia had a tough time
raising her, because of her lack of control. When she was young, her abilities would go out of
control whenever she got into a tantrum. A particular incident came up amongst her memories. During
one of her trainings, she had been frustrated and angry. When she was provoked by one of the Death
Eaters, she lashed out. A huge whirlwind came out of nowhere, sweeping everyone except for her
around the room. Draco had been in the room as well. As a result of her tantrum, she had injured
him. He landed hard on his left leg and broke his ankle and knee severely. That injury took ages to
recover and caused him so much pain. It had never fully recovered; that was the injury that caused
him to have a very slight limp on his left leg. It was not noticeable to everyone, but never to
her. She was always reminded of it whenever she heard his footsteps.

She sighed resignedly. Looking back up at the Headmaster, she asked quietly.

"How do you propose to train me?”

-->



11. Defence Against the Dark Arts
---------------------------------



“The ability to do wandless magic is inherent in every witch and wizard; however it depends on
the level of magic in the person and the spell cast. For examp-”

“The Headmaster had to see me.”

The incessant sound of quills scribbling away suddenly silenced as every head turned in the
direction of the quiet voice that dared to interrupt Severus Snape in the middle of his class. The
deafening absence of sound seemed to announce her arrival as she stood at the door, her presence
somehow occupying the entire room despite her petite frame. Her eyes scanned indifferently over the
stares she received; unfazed by the attention she was receiving by the entire class, to fall upon
the Professor who was examining her intently from where he stood amidst the students.

“She is so going to lose points for Gryffindor.” Parvati whispered to Lavender.

Her whisper was carried to everyone's ears by the silence that was sweeping in the room. It
swept the attention of the class back to the Professor, as they awaited his reaction to the
intruder. For once, Harry agreed with the two girls. To interrupt Snape was practically a death
sentence, Harry would definitely know from experience. To treat him so - to be late and interrupt
his teaching, without even a hint of apology in her voice - Harry was certain that she was in for a
tough year and that Gryffindor was going to start the year with negative points, thanks to her.

“See me after class, Ms. Granger.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up, so did everyone else's. Snape did not give his usual snide and
cold remarks nor did he unreasonably take away any house points! If it was anyone else late for
class, a detention and fifty points deduction would be the usual. If it was himself, detention and
a fifty-point deduction would be more appropriate… given the Professor's bias towards him.

*“**Contrary* *to what you think, Mr. Potter, you do not own the school. You are not
allowed to* *strut around* *as you please.”*

Just as he was thinking along the lines of Snape and his bias towards him and everyone else
outside Slytherin in general, Harry mentally smacked himself. For the second time in the morning,
the image of her climbing into Malfoy's carriage played out in his head. He should have
expected it, he berated himself. Naturally, any relation with Malfoy would translate to exception
from Snape's mission to make everyone miserable. Snape probably favoured her as much as he
favoured Malfoy, for all he knew.

“As for your seat, you may take the one next to Mr. Malfoy.”

*Oh, that clears* *everything**.* Snape definitely favoured the new girl. He
watched her gaze shift over to Malfoy with a strange feeling of repugnance in him. He saw
recognition in her eyes, after all, they had met earlier in the morning but he observed no other
emotion. She took her seat next to him, and prepared her books as though there were no one else in
the room. Malfoy turned to look at her with a lazy quirk at his lips, his eyes watching her every
move intently. Harry felt an unreasonable surge of distaste for him rise up as he watched
Malfoy's lips move - “Remember me?” She gave a short nod and a small smile before turning her
attention back to Snape who continued his lecture on wandless magic. Harry couldn't help
himself but compare her actions to the ones she gave him earlier this morning…

“Mr. Potter, if you believe that you have such inexplicable talent for this subject to the point
that you can daydream in my class, I'll like you to come up and demonstrate your prowess for
the class.”

Snape's slick voice snuck through his thoughts and pulled him right back to reality. He was
back in his seat at the back of the classroom, no longer in the Gryffindor Common Room, with
everyone's eyes on him. Snape stood in the front of the class, wearing the sneer that Harry had
grown to hate over the years, especially in the past summer when he had been under Snape's
training. The sneer appeared whenever Snape devised a way to torture him. He had been forced to run
rounds around the Quidditch Pitch, sprint up to the top of Astronomy Tower repeatedly, clean up the
potions storeroom all by himself, chased by magical creatures he couldn't identify, spent
sleepless nights memorising potion ingredients, spells and theories… all that whenever that bloody
sneer appeared. It was with a heavy and cautious heart when he slowly stood up from his seat, under
the stares of the entire class. Harry knew it was futile to resist, although he hated submitting to
him, but he convinced himself that it was a matter of looking out for himself and not pride. It was
not obedience, but protection.

Harry slowly walked up, his surroundings indistinctly blurred as he fixed his eyes in the front.
He had started on wandless magic training, but he had not mastered it to the point where he can use
it anytime and anywhere. He could not afford to be affected by the sniggers and smirks thrown his
way by the Slytherins nor the pitying gazes and worried glances from his housemates. However as he
was reaching the front, his eyes strayed on its own accord… to meet a pair of intense brown eyes.
She had turned around in her seat to look at him, her right hand resting on the back of her chair.
Her expression was unreadable as always, which frustrated Harry a little. He didn't really know
what he wanted her expression to be or why he was actually wondering about it, perhaps it was
better that she remained expressionless as usual. He held her gaze as he walked forwards, until he
passed her seat, before he focused back onto Snape.

“You can leave your wand, Potter. You won't be using it.”

He would not be using his wand, but he knew he definitely needed it. He reluctantly placed his
wand on the teacher's table, a tense and hardened expression on his face as he kept his eyes on
Snape. Harry straightened up to face him, his senses heightened and ready.

Snape slowly raised his wand to Harry's eye level with the dratted sneer still in place and
for that moment, everything vanished and Harry could see nothing else but his mocking black eyes
and the tip of the pointed wand. Snape took his time to start, to give the element of surprise.
Perhaps it was a few seconds, a minute… but Harry's nervousness had already distorted his
perception of time.

*To the hell with it.*

“Rictusempra! Stupefy! Oppugno!

One by one in quick succession, Snape cast 3 spells at Harry. By instinct, Harry swiftly took a
step back, his wrist flicking as though he was casting the Shield Charm with his wand.

“Protego!”

Harry felt the impact of the first 2 spells bouncing off the invisible shield he summoned, the
blue light bouncing off to smash the window and the red light rebounding to hit an empty wall,
leaving a large black mark on it. The last spell Snape had cast had no light emitting from his
wand, but instead the stack of papers on the teacher's desk suddenly folded into half and began
to swoop towards Harry! It was like a flock of white birds attacking him all over repeatedly. Harry
beat his arms around him, attempting to bat away the papers birds to no avail.

“Immobulus!”

Harry's attempt to immobilise the paper birds were futile, the painful jabs and stabs never
ceased.

“Immobulus!”

The attacks persisted, the pain becoming more intense with each passing moment. His arms felt
like there were countless of knives cutting into him, needles poking into his flesh erratically,
relentlessly. He couldn't stop it.

Through a small break in the flock surrounding him, Harry caught a glimpse of Snape's
expression. He was not going to stop… Harry realised. He was enjoying it; he was just going to
stand there and watch him! How he wished looks could kill as his furious eyes glared at him. The
break soon closed up as the paper birds swooped down to attack his face. Keeping his head down, his
arm swatted at empty space as his agile attackers flew out of the way.

Just then, he saw it. His wand, lying on the floor no further than 2 feet from him! It must have
rolled onto the floor when the papers it was resting on flew off to attack him. Harry's eyes
turned defiant as he glared up at where Snape was standing beside the white wall of paper birds
surrounding him. If he wasn't going to stop it, Harry was not so stupid to just let him. He
would stop it himself.

Harry lunged himself forwards to where his wand lay. *Yes**!* He mentally
congratulated himself as his right hand grasped on to the wooden stick, following the momentum with
a forward roll. Snape's eyes widened as he watched Harry make towards his wand. Acting quickly,
he cast the Disarming spell but missed as his target rolled forwards quickly.

Along with his wand, Harry had also picked up something else that filled him to the core. He
felt stronger, more powerful… he knew it would work this time.

“Immobulus!”

He commanded as he broke out from his roll into a crouching position. Harry let out a grim smile
of satisfaction as the paper birds froze in mid-air around him.

“Expelliarmus!”

His eyes shot up to the sound of Snape casting yet another spell at him.

“Protego!”

Harry could not afford to lose his wand again. His wrist flicked, this time with his wand in his
hand. The red light bounced off his second shield and hit the teacher's table, sending even
more papers flying to the air.

“Aquamenti!”

Harry stared as Snape did a complicated wand movement and a strong jet of water erupted out of
his wand towards him. It was as though he watched it in slow motion; it shot through his invisible
shield then suddenly sped up towards him. Harry's body slammed against a wall, his breath
leaving him upon impact. The water soaked him through his robes, like a paralysing poison that
shocked and numbed his senses at the same time. A soft clank sounded below, his arm dropping to
hang limply beside him.

“Furnunculus!”

Harry watched as a purple light emitted from Snape's wand and shot towards him, his brain
not registering much. He leaned helplessly against the wall, unable to do anything. All of a
sudden, the light rebounded a few feet away from him and travelled off in another direction. His
shield was still in place! At the impact of the second spell, he finally felt the presence of his
shield which dissipated quickly after defending him for a last time. But Harry's momentary
relief mutated into fear as he realised where the purple light was headed to.

“No!” Harry whispered, his desperate eyes following the purple light as it sped towards
Hermione.

------------------------------

Hermione's senses went into high alert as she saw the spell coming into her direction. Her
wand appeared from underneath the table, speaking the incantation for the Shield Charm. She
registered another voice conjuring the Shield Charm beside her. Just before the spell hit her, she
felt her shield materialise in front of her along with another 2 more shields. The spell ricocheted
off the combined shield with such force, a loud boom sounded though the room. It hit the cupboard
at the back of the classroom, its contents flying out as its doors were blown off on impact.

Hermione noticed that Draco, too, was gripping his wand. She should have known. He turned
towards her, his eyes seeking hers in concern. Hermione smiled slightly to answer his unspoken
question. He gave an uneven smile and turned to face Professor Snape, satisfied with her
well-being.

Only then, did she allow a small frown to replace her expression. That answered for one of the
extra shields… but who came up with the other one?

Hermione looked to the Professor who stood there watching Potter with an angry expression. Her
eyes followed in his direction to see Potter's eyes on her. His gaze was intense, his eyes
examining her. Trying to read his eyes, she couldn't understand what she saw, but the flash of
emotion she managed to grasp as their eyes met for that short moment… left her with an even more
confusing emotion in herself.

*Was it him?*

Hermione had no proof, nor any theory to base it on. But for reasons unknown to her, she had not
a shred of doubt that it was him. She was certain of it, but she did not know why. She felt
frightened at how sure she felt that it was him. A quick glance at Professor Snape and Draco and
she knew none of them felt the presence of the third shield.

“Are you convinced of your lack of ability yet, Mr. Potter?” Hermione looked up at the sound of
Professor Snape's mocking voice.

Potter simply stared at the ground, his eyes hard. Dripping wet, his robes clung to his body and
his hair matted his head. He was shaking, Hermione observed. Out of anger or out of cold, she did
not know.

“A week's detention, Potter. And 150 points from Gryffindor” gasps from the back were heard,
most probably from the Gryffindors, “for not listening in class, trashing the classroom, putting a
student in danger and insolence towards a professor.”

Potter looked up from under his eyelids, his position never changing except for his right fist
unclenching. The class watched in silence as his wand slowly and steadily floated to his hand.
Judging from how his wand levitated, the control and power was undeniable. The tension thickened in
the room as his fingers gripped around his wand tight. Hermione tried again, but she still could
not read his eyes. Hermione wondered what he was going to do.

Without a word, he turned and strode out of the room. The whole class watched the exit
wordlessly, not knowing how to react. A sudden pop sound at the back of the classroom cracked the
silence left in his wake, causing more than one student to jump. The table he sat at was empty. His
belongings had disappeared.

---------------------------------------

Hermione lingered at her seat as the students quickly filtered out of the class, eager to leave
the awkward situation in the classroom. Draco slung his bag over his shoulder, giving her a
significant look. Walking out of the classroom, he called out “See you, Professor!” and disappeared
into the corridor.

Hermione watched the corridor longer than necessary, wishing that he did not have to leave. But
she knew it was futile, too much trouble could be caused if he had stayed. His friends would have
stayed too, or might ask unnecessary questions… it was for the better, she convinced herself. The
door closed after him, as though telling her to forget about it. The locks on the door put itself
into place, she knew it was charmed to do so by the other occupant of the room, but she took it as
a sign to strengthen her resolve. Her attention returned to the Professor and she smiled. It
wasn't so bad; at least she was with someone familiar in this room.

“Hello, Uncle Severus.” Hermione allowed herself to acknowledge the man, certain that he had
taken the necessary precautions to make sure they were alone and unheard.

“Leah.” His black eyes acknowledged her, his deep voice identifying her by her real name.

Hermione felt a rush of affection for the man in front of her as she watched his lips lift
awkwardly; she knew he was never good at expressing emotions, much less to say affection. Perhaps
it was finally being with someone familiar in an extremely foreign environment, or that she could
slightly relax her pretence in front of a person who watched her grow up, she smiled with ease. And
it was enough the two of them. In a way, both of them were quite similar - never quite expressive,
less is more. They understood and felt what was left unsaid in between them and headed straight
into business.

“Shouldn't you have put me with Potter?”

“My classes are the only time you and Draco can have much uninterrupted time to discuss
anything, seeing that both of you are in opposing houses.”

Hermione inwardly flinched. She had not gotten over the fact that she was sorted in Gryffindor,
of all houses. Her eyes searched his face and she couldn't find any distaste in his voice or
his expression.

“I think at least one other professor would put you together with him, I would not be too
bothered with it.”

“You should give me detention too. I think the students are quite appalled,” Snape smirked
distractedly as she said it, “at your leniency towards me.”

“Detention on your first day in school. What would Maia say?” Snape's amusement was evident
in his voice.

The mention of Maia brought a pang in her heart. Her thoughts travelled to her and Asher back at
the Manor and she realised how much she wished she was back with them. She gave a wry smile.

“She'll understand.”

“Saturday then, 7pm back here.”

“I can't. I've got my first training session with Dumbledore.”

“Training?” His voice was sharp.

“He offered to help me hone my elemental abilities this morning. He said he sensed me last
night.” She shrugged her shoulders uncharacteristically, her brown curls bouncing slightly.

“The brown hair suits you.” He commented suddenly, the words leaving his lips quickly as though
he had been afraid to say it out loud. It surprised Hermione, but she brushed it off as her
uncle's inability to express his feelings.

“Thanks.” She responded quietly, not knowing what else to say. “Sunday perhaps?”

His eyes cleared at her questioning tone, Hermione had not noticed that it had clouded over till
then. Clearing his throat, he confirmed her detention date and time.

“Sunday, 7pm. Potter will be joining you.”

“I expected so.”

Her nonchalant reply surprised him. This girl was really smart for her age, Severus thought to
himself as he watched her sling her bag over her shoulder.

“Take care, Leah.”

Hermione walked towards the door, the locks unbolting at her silent command. At his call, she
turned around to flash her trademark smile, that all-knowing gentle smile. Pulling open the door,
she left Severus Snape alone in the classroom, staring after her with a wistful look that she did
not see as she strode off without another look back.

-------------------------------------------

Hey you guys,

My Christmas present to you guys. Have a happy merry Christmas

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