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The Room of Hidden Things held many things in its cluttered, high ceiling self. Portraits of those long since deceased, clothing articles dating as far back as Ancient Greece, magical articles either broken or lost, secret diaries of those who knew of the room, and other such odds and ends were scattered throughout the room. Treasures far beyond one's richest imagination were hidden within its depths.
But the current occupant of the Room, Draco Malfoy, didn't care for any of those worldly treasures. His focus was solely on the one object standing in the way between him and a freedom of sorts.
If he succeeded in his task of murdering the Headmaster and smuggling the Death Eaters into his school, the Dark Lord promised Draco he would be allowed to live. He was also promised his father's release from Azkaban for accomplishing this. It was a high price, and becoming more impossible as the first month of school was finishing up. He would have to do something soon. It was almost Halloween already.
Standing eight feet tall, its dark sharp triangle sides coming to a point gave the Vanishing Cabinet an eerie look. It stood almost perfectly in the center of the cluttered mess. It was the object that would get the Death Eaters from Knockturn Alley to Hogwarts. In Draco's mind, it was the devil. Well not quite, there was something- someone- that was just as, if not more, evil.
Draco remembered the first time he laid eyes on the Cabinet's twin at Borgin and Burke's shop. He thought him and his mother was just going to accompany his Aunt Bellatrix in one of her meetings with him.
The moment the Dark Lord laid his red eyes on him in that tiny shop was the moment he was sure there was no backing down. And when he called Draco out of the all the wizards and witches in the room, he knew it was the end.
The end of feigned ignorance. The end of pretending he wasn't a child anymore. He had to grow up, in the few short seconds it took him to cross the room.
The Dark Lord looked nothing like how Draco had imagined from his father's ravings. He moved and spoke with elegance and purpose, but their was a wild side that was dangerous to him. The man looked as though the every Dark Magic he used was eating up his soul. Skin paler than the moon, slits taking the place of an actual nose, eyes the shade of blood. The Dark Lord was a strange person to behold. He was more monster than person. A monster that demanded power and allegiance. He was the nightmare of all nightmares.
When he was given Dark Mark, it had stung more than he had thought it would. The skin of his left arm now damaged by the dark magic swirling beneath it was sore still, making Draco forever conscious of it. He rubbed it without noticing and hissed when the burn grew.
The tattoo sparked a memory from his mind. He was probably seven, maybe eight sitting on his father's lap.
When he was younger and ignorant of his father's shady past, he would trace his father's tattoo with his fingers imaging what it would feel like to have one- maybe even the same one.It was really neat, watching the magic swirl and stay just underneath that thin layer of skin. Lucius had always been the more distant one in his parentage, and he treasured every moment of closeness greatly. He really was a great father, he thought.
Young Draco then looked up at his father and said, "Father, I want to grow up and be just like you. I'll find a beautiful wife, and a kid like me, and get a tattoo. Then I'll grow my hair out, too, so then we'll be just alike."
Lucius had just laughed, and said, "When you get to be as old as I am, you might regret it."
When Draco grew older, the immortal image young children often see their parents having was stripped away, revealing just how much his parents had hid from him. Knowing what he knew now, he wanted to be nothing like his father, but was slowly become just that.
Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.
Draco tried a few more spells he had found in the library during his lunch, but with no success to boot. His frustrations soon caught up with him, and he shouted at the Cabinet. "Come on, work you stupid piece of shit!"
"That's quite enough from you. There is no need to speak profanities in the presence of a witch."
Draco jumped around, his wand ready. His eyes searched for the intruder, yet he was completely surprised when the only one he saw was a portrait of a man barely older than he was glaring accusingly from across the room, the picture frame resting in a faded love-seat. Also in the portrait, sitting next to the man, was a young woman of timeless beauty.
"I'm sorry." He said.
"You better be." said the portrait man warningly. He was glaring at Draco as if he were his father. It was extremely odd look for a man that wasn't much older than Draco.
"Darling," the woman spoke up, "you needn't be so harsh. He is young."
"Alright love." he said, looking at the painted woman next to him with love and deep compassion.
The sight had Draco aggravated. It was just like someone above was laughing and rubbing it in his face.
Who would love someone as dangerous and horrible as a Death Eater?
After trying for a few more hours, Draco made little progress on the Vanishing Cabinet. Deciding it was time to give up for the night, he put away the tools he had brought with him and covered up the Cabinet with a tattered cloth. It would be do good to be sleep deprived.
He had almost made it to his common room when his stomach reminded him rather painfully he had skipped two meals. He changed courses and headed to the kitchens where he knew food and service would be plentiful.
The house elves were excited, almost too excited to see someone requesting their services, and smiled at him widely. Draco was too hungry and overlooked the small detail. He asked one elf, kindly, as that was the only way to get them to do anything and then some, for a small snack.
She- the elf wore a dingy faded pink doll gown to distinguish its gender- hurried off quickly, smiling wider only to be back a few minutes later carrying a handful of green shiny apples in her miniature arms and a full glass of pumpkin juice balancing on her head. He thanked her before leaving and her broad smile grew larger.
He had no particular place to go while eating, so Draco wandered the castle in search for such a place. While he walked, he thought.
He had noticed his thoughts revolved mainly around three things as of late.
The first thing, above all, was his task. Although he had never agreed with the Headmaster on anything, he did not wish the old man death, nor want to be the catylist of it. He didn't want to be a killer either, but a war was brewing, no matter what people said or how they avoided the situation. He would have to be a killer to survive it.
The second was his family. His mother had not written to him once since he had gone off to school. Every letter he sent was never answered. He only hoped she was okay living alone with him and his followers. His father was bound in chains at Azkaban, reliving his worst memories with dementors. Even though he knew his father wasn't a good man, he didn't deserve the punishment either. What Lucius had done was to protect his family.
The third object of his thoughts was someone who should have been in them. This person was below him, or so he was taught. He wasn't supposed to want this person, he wasn't supposed to want to have this person by his side. But the craving of not being allowed to have this person but wanting still was how his obsession started.
And in the form of Hermione Granger no less.
She wasn't supposed to be a brilliant witch, top of the class, a better magician than himself. Especially not with her muggle blood coursing through every vein and artery in her body. Draco had been jealous of her and hated her for it. But he had always wanted her. When he was a mere boy of thirteen, the confusion had been almost to much for him, and he had taken it out on her.
Now that he was older he saw that he didn't hate her. He hated he couldn't have her.
Not that it mattered. Their were separated by thousand old prejudices and on opposing sides of the war. He had made her hate him and he was meant to hate her. It just wouldn't be safe, nor fair, to even try.
He had tried to not disconnect his feelings for her the moment he discovered they had sprouted. But a girl like Hermoine just didn't go unnoticed. She was smart, likable, and had a short temper that rivaled his own. He had found that out one day when he went too far.
After walking for a while Draco found himself at the library door. He was about to unlocked it with a simple alohamora when he noticed it was already unlocked. But who was in?
Draco crept inside and closed the door, cringing when the thing groaned from frequent usage. It was dark inside and smelt of mildewing books, old magic, and fresh ink. The subtle embers of a dying fire gave the room a romantic glow. There was a muffled noise he couldn't place.
"Ouch." Draco said, letting the unintended words slip through his lips when he hit his foot on something. He lit his wand and pointed to the ground. There was a pile of scattered books, the one closest to his foot was partially covered in brown, curly hair.
He moved his wand over a little and saw a girl curled on the floor, crying.
The name escaped his lips before he could stop them from opening. "Granger?"
okay so I know the whole Draco loves Hermione already makes him OOC and is completely overused, but i always wanted to write one like this. review please! tell me what you love, hate, want, and any suggestions you have thought of. they would mean the world to me. i live on reviews.
Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
June 14, 2012
Just fixing my spelling errors. Reviews are magical instant inspiration so please leave one! :D
At hearing her name, Hermione stood up rather quickly, wiping her face clear of its tears. In her hand was a crumpled piece of odd looking parchment, which she hid behind her back. It was white, and had lines across the width of it, repeating all the way down to the end. Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail that was coming undone. And her eyes, they were shiny and puffy from crying.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked hostilely, crossing her petite arms. She may have appeared pissed off and defensive, but one look in her eyes told that her outside expression was faux, as they were filled sadness. It was an unusual look for the brave girl. A look that Draco hoped he would never witness again in his life.
When he did not answer her, she said, "Just go away Malfoy. I don't have any time for you and your mind games." Hermione settled back down against the bookshelf, wrapping her hands around her knees, waiting for him to leave. But Draco would not have that. Not one teensy bit. He wanted to know what happened, who hurt her, so that they could pay.
"Why should I have to leave? I have as much a right as you, don't I? It is after all, way after curfew."
Hermione huffed, clearly not liking his stubborn answer in the least bit. "Why do you want to willingly be in the same room as a Mudblood?"she hissed.
If only you knew he thought sadly. And then, just to irate her, because she would want to know what he meant, he looked in her brown eyes, and said just that.
Her eyes squinted in a hating glare, a crease forming in the middle of her forehead from the effort she was putting forth from her glaring. It was clear that Draco was getting on her nerves very easily tonight. Then, as if deciding he wasn't worth her time, she grabbed a book nearest her and pretended to read. He only noticed that she wasn't reading because her book was up side down. He smirked and let out a chuckle at her silliness.
"What is so funny, Malfoy?" she practically growled.
He stopped laughing when he noticed the tears rolling down her face. "Was it Weasley?" he asked, no humor left in his voice. Then he added, when he noticed he sounded as if he cared, "Did he tell you that your Mudblood stench was just too much tonight?" From her reaction, he saw his words hit a nerve, but that was not enough. He wanted to hex himself for the next words that he spoke. "Or did he shack up with some girl? Did it watch to hurt him kiss her, Granger? Did you wish it was you he was sucking faces with? If so, I must congratulate him."
He wanted to catch the fresh teats that were sure to fall. She looked so miserable... It tore him up not to be able to comfort her... Perhaps this once? Just to prove to her he wasn't the bastard he pretended to her. It wouldn't hurt, would it? What was he thinking it would destroy everything. Begrudgingly, Draco's hands stayed at his sides, and safely away from her and all the trouble that could ensue from merely holding her while she cried.
He felt guilt, knowing her was part of the reason she was crying. It was sick. He loved her, but he could find the strength to do this to her? Yes, it was sick, but it was necessary. For the first time, his father's last words before he was arrested made some sense to Draco.
He had asked his father if it was worth it, pointing towards his heartbroken mother. Lucius's reply was one of the most emotion filled things Draco had heard his father say. "Sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love in order to protect them."
Hermione tried her best to stop the tears from coming. As she glared with what could only be hatred at him. He was confused by what she said next.
"If... You think this is about Ron... You're wrong." she muttered. The only one he had ever seen, apart from himself, reduce her to tears was the red-haired git. Whom, or what had upset her so?
"It can't be that bad Granger, right?" The only answer he got was a strangled sob as she buried her face in her knees.
She looked after a few moments when she calmed down. "Why don't you just leave me alone? Is it not enough that I have to feel miserable already? Do you get some sick satisfaction from watching me bawl my eyes out?"
"No, I don't particularly enjoy watching your face turn red and teary. I just like annoying the piss out of you." he smirked.
"Job well done. Now can you go?"
"Not until you tell me what happened." He was confusing her, he knew it. One second he was acting as if he might give a shit and then tearing her down... No wonder she hated him.
"Why do you want to know?" she fired back, her nostrils flaring. She looked cute when she did that. Draco wondered if anyone ever told her that.
"Curiosity killed the cat." she said, her lips twitching almost into a victorious grin. You haven't won yet, Granger.
"It's a damn good thing I'm not a cat then, Granger."
"You're not going to leave until I tell you, are you?"
Trying to get her to say anything was like pulling teeth. The muggle way. Tedious and not easy. "I thought we already went over this?"
Granger didn't reply. Her eyes were dazed over, and Draco could almost hear those gears whirling in her head, possibly figuring how how to tell him whatever was wrong. He hoped that it wasn't something to bad. A fight with a friend or something along that nature Draco could deal with. If it was something more... serious, Draco had no idea what he would do.
"I don't really know how to tell you. I don't even know how to tell Harry and Ron, much less you. It's complicated... To tell you the thirty, but perfectly simple." She started, starring down at her lap. She twiddled with her fingers before continuing. "Malfoy, do you know what the term cancer is?"
Draco's heart stopped beating. He could feel the air in the room stand still and grow cold. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and his stomach did millions of flip-flops. She didn't have...have it did she? Shouldn't her magic have stopped it? Or was there too much muggle blood in her?
"Granger...you're not saying you-"
"No!" she cut him off, "No, if course I don't have it."
Draco let out of air he had been holding. Relief settled through his body. But wait... Whom was she crying for then? "Who?" he whispered.
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep, long breath before letting it out very slowly. Then she looked in his grey stone cold eyes and told him.
I'm sorry it's so short and I haven't updated sooner. My schools out now so I'll be able to update more frequently now. Thank you to luv_me_hate_me, Mischief_managed18, and Andreaa for reviewing the first chapter. You guys are amazing.
June 14, 2012
Just fixing my spelling errors. Reviews are magical instant inspiration so please leave one! :D
I'm So Sorry, Princess
Hermione could not belive the nerve of Malfoy. He had mocked her, taunted her, and then he said something that had confounded her. Was he playing some sick joke on her? Did he feel pity for her, the Mudblood?
She scowled. Now was not the time to question the action and inner workings of Malfoy, of all people.
But despite that, her trhoughts revolved around him. His words about ron bugged her to no end. How did he know of her feelings for her red-haired friend, while ron remained completely clueless to them? How many others knew, if Malfoy knew? Harry? Parkinson? Merlin forbid, Snape? She cringed at the mental image of her ex-Slytherin professor knowing her personal feelings.
And to be caught crying in front of Malfoy, having him see her in a weak vunerable state, just made the situation that much worse.
When she told him it wasn't Ron she was crying over, Hermione did not expect him to go any further in with it. She had simply told Malfoy that so if he decided to gossip around the school about finding her crying, he would not have the school thinking Ron had broken her heart.
She had been crying for a different reason. Something that had nothing to do with Ron, but everything to do with her family.
It had to do with her with her parents and how she had almost nothing to do with them in hte past few years. Letters between her and her parents had become less and aless frequent and with almost no content to them besides happy lies and test scores and ending with a sweet Love, Hermione written half way down the parchment. It was about her mother's health and the war, and never seeing them in the summer or during Christmas . This was something she was so sure Malfoy wouldn't care about...and yet he had blown her mind away and acted as the total one-eighty of himself.
At least through part of their encounter. He had teased Hermione and called her mudblood as per usual, but there was this part of the part conversation , however small the part may have been, when she would hav e sworn he had been...afraid it was she who had cancer. and then the look of pure relief when she denied the idea.
And now she was alone with only her confused thoughts. Malfoy had left little under and an hour ago, only minutes after she had told him it was her mother dieing of cancer.
He hadn't laughed and said some crass, vile comment abvout asking to watch her mother die. Ther was no smirk and remark about how it would lead to one less muggle that needed to be kill. His last words, which echoed in her mind, were very different from expected.
Somehow, I wish it had been Weasel breaking your heart.
What on earth had he meant by that oddly back-handed sentiment? Had he meant he felt sorry for her? That he took pity on her? Well, she thought, I don't wanted nor need his bloody pity.
Her thoughts began to focus on her mother and her eyes involuntarily clouded with tears at the thought of her once strong, independent mother. Was she doing well? how far and the cancer spread since the letter was sent? If she had known, could her magic have saved her mother? Would she every see her mother?
It hurt Hermione that her parents had decided not to tell her sooner, when they first learned of the disease during the previous summer. Granted she had barely spent anytime at her home since first year, she was still their daughter--their only daughter. It made her feel unimportant in their eyes.
You looked so happy for the first time in so long, we decided to keep it from you.
Their reason only trouble her further. Had she truly appeared so distressed that they would feel obliiged to hide this from her? She din't remmeber nor feeling happy, just very worried about parents not being magical and Harry.
Hermionje un-crumple the letter in her hands, and read the words that she had already memoried from reading the parchment a million times at day.
your mother and I miss you so much. You are so smart and beautful--both traits you thankful took from your mother--and we just wanted to tell you how proud we are of you. We can't wait for you to come home during Christmas break! It will be a gift from heaven to see you again.
There is however no easy way to tell this to you, even on paper. During the previous summer, you looked so happy for the first time in so long, we decided to keep this from you. But now, it's become much more serious than we hoped.
Your mother was diagnosed with leukemia on May fourteenth of last year. The cancer went away for a little while, but now it's back and has stronger, attacking her heart and lungs. She was hospitalized last night. The doctors have no idea how fast the cancer is spreading, but they say she'll be okay for now.
I'm so sorry, Princess, for not telling you sooner. your mother and I were truthfully hoping the cancer would be terminated so you would never have to know or worry. Please do not think it is because we do not just you, because we do. We love you so much Princess.
Your mum can not wait for Christmas to come and neither can I. See you soon Princess!
Her thoughts were interupted by the chiming of the clock Tower. It was probably clost o three or four am by noy, Hermione reckoned as she gathered her reading materials and essays for classes that would be starting in a few hours. The letter was folded neatly in her robe's inner pocket, safe and sound. With a large yawn, Hermione told herself she need no more all nighters, or her studies were going to reflect it.
Thankfully, Hermione wasn't discovered on her way back form the library. the Fast Lady was naturally very cross when Hermione had woken her up from whata seemed to be a pleasant dream. Yet when the fat lady realized who it was that had woken her up, the painted guardian's cross expression softenedto one of concern. Hermione laughed with the painting and promised everything was fine. Just lost track of time is all, she explained, not a trace of guilt or sadness on her face.
The girls in her dormitory were all still in dreamland, and thankfully were not awakened when she opened the door. Crookshanks (her half-kneazle) was however nestled fast asleep...on her pillow. Stupid cat! She thought as she yanked her pillow gently out from under the sleeping creature. He let out a sharp hiss as he woke up, but it went unnoticed by the six year girls. Moodily, he moved over so his owner could lie down as well. Hermione, exhausted from grief, fell asleep the moment shee layed down. But as both she and Draco would find it, morning came much to soon.
The sun never so much as shot one bright ray down in the Slytherin dormitory. Though it was never cold thanks to a blazing fire and piping system in each room, waking up was even harder because there was never enough light to fully wake up in hte mornings. Draco was more than content to sleep the day away in the dark dungeons, and skip classes just so he could finally get some sleep. But as fate would cruely have it, the odds were not in his favor.
"Draco!" Pansy yelled. "If you don't get your lazy arse up, i'll make sure you regret it. You didn't give me a good night kiss, and I'll be damned if I don't recieve a good morning one!" she demaded needily, throwing the blankets off his body. Draco shivered as the morning air made contact with his warm skin.
"Pans, I'm regretfully sorry to tell you that you can't recieve a good morning kiss if it isn't a good morning," he mumbled to her, smirking, before throwing his much loved coveres back over his body and snuggled into his pillow.
"Then I'll just have to make it one then," she sad suggestivly before crawling into Draco's bed.
Pansy straddled his backside and pulled the covers away from his neck to give it kisses. In the back of his mind, he knew Pansy was only acting like any good girlfriend should, as they arrangment called for. In fact, if he wasn't in love with Gr...someone else, he would have bet some good money that his realtioship with Pansy might have been real and not a shaky deal.
Guiltly, he gave Pansy her god morning kiss. It was a good kiss. Laacked the spark needed for a great kiss, but that could have been because every second of it, he was imagining the lips and taste of someone else...
Soon Pansy left to get ready for class. As Draco watched her leave, he noticed Blaise watching her too. While analyzing this, Draco went to get ready himself, wondering if he could play match-maker soon.
Draco groaned. The lights were too bright and he needed his sleep. He decided whoever was adressing wasn't worth losing his sleep over.
The voice, however didn't get the message, and called again. "Mr. Malfoy, class is over and has been for quite some time. You are missing you lunch hour."
Lunch. The word caught his attention. Having no more than some apples and pumpkin juice in the last whatever hours had him hungry. His stomach rumbled in agreement. Slowly, he lifted hs head an inch, his eyes opening slowly. to his surprise, he saw that he wasn't in his room, but an empty classroom. Well, almost empty.
Professor McGonagall, stood in front of his desk, one impatient foot tapping. Her cat shaped eyes glared at him. "Care to explain why you thought it was accpetable to sleep through my lessons? I understand that this year had a great deal more to handle than your previous years of schooling, but even i did not expect this kind of thing from you. Perhaps you should spend less time with your little frind, Mr Parkinson, and a little more time in your bed actually sleeping so that one of you may pass?"
Draco looked down sheepishly, even though he hadn't done anything like that with Pansy since the end of summer. Just having a professor thinking you were doing...it last night was emabarrassing.
"Now, before you leave, I want you to reconsider your decision to leave the Quidditch team the year you are awarded as Captain and I also want you to not quit being a Prefect--Dumbledore must have given you those privieges for a reason. Are you sure you won't wait until Christmas?"
Angry that she wouldn't leave his personal business alone, he snapped suddenly, like a rubberband being streched too far,"Why else would I fucking quit if I wasn't sure, unless I wanted to?"
"Do not take that tone or lauguage with me, Mr. Malfoy. I was asking you to revaluateyour decisions. Resigning from places of power such as being a prefect is not like the ambitious person I know you are."
Feeling thr truth in his words Draco replied harshily to her, "No body knows me. Now excuse me professor, I'm missing my lunch hour."
I updated! I'm so sorry for the wait, my life's been way busier that expected, and next week my school start up so updates might be fast or slow. Please don't think I'm abondoning you if it takes until Thanksginvng to update again. Though hopefully it won't take that long.
Thanks to Dashaaugust7, quirkycharm, ltfsirius, Dark Whisper, Mischief, Andreaa, and Angel_Princess87 for reviewing chapter two. Thanks so much for the support!
Reviews are love! Send me love, a.k.a reviews.
Me: Who owns Harry Potter?
Draco: Can't hold us down! Who sings that song? Anyone?
Snape: Ten points off Slytherin for getting Christina Aguilera's song stuck in my head and anotehr for not knowing that Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Draco and Dumbledore: This for for my girls around the world who've came across a man who don't respect your worth!