1. A Simple Favour

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"Severus, listen to me, you have to be the one to do it, not the boy. It must be you Severus"

"I will." Snape wavered on each syllable as though the words were painful to speak, eyes glued to the Headmaster of Hogwarts' own that seemed to be clouded with a mix of relief and fear. As Snape turned to leave his eyes settled on a mass of easily identifiable brunette curls peaking from the top of the stairs,

"and just what do you think you are doing, Miss Granger?" The pretty Gryffindor cursed herself for being so careless as to wait so it seemed as though she were eavesdropping

"I'm sorry Professor but Professor Dumbledore asked to see me" she replied, attempting to hide the fear Snape has generated in her since her First year with a tone of assertiveness. "Very well" he dropped his voice "but fifteen points dropped from Gryffindor for eavesdropping" and with that he was gone, his signature black robes floating behind him.

Upon hearing Hermione's voice Dumbledore called out "ahh Miss Granger do come up" and the witch obeyed, ascending up the stairs of the astronomy tower that overlooked the grounds of the school and the black lake. She shuddered at the memory of being in that lake as part of the Triwizard Tournament two years earlier, of how cold the water was, or maybe at how close Viktor Krum held her to his side. She couldn't decide.

"I've brought you here to ask you a rather difficult favour Miss Granger; on the night of the 30th of this month I need you to come here at midnight and if need be" he paused and looked pleadingly at the witch "I require you to apparate Mr Draco Malfoy to safety if necessary and protect him at all costs regardless of the fate I land myself in" Hermione's face contorted into one of shock and disgust but before her lips could part the old wizard continued "The wards will be broken for no more than an hour so you must apparate far away, somewhere only you know of and most importantly Miss Granger, you must not tell anyone – even Harry – about your task... however, you can send Mr Weasley and Mr Potter letters via your owl in order to maintain contact" His voice softened at the mention of Harry Potter, but his next words hung in the crisp morning air.

"I feel as the brightest witch of your age it is only you, I can depend on to carry out my request."

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. The witch had grown to hate the nicknamed she'd coined since her early years at Hogwarts. It gave people the impression that had the solution to every problem and therefore many unloaded their problems onto the Gryffindor. Hermione considered rejecting the wizards request before something stopped her because, as much as she hates to admit it to herself, there's always been an aspect of Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin prince, that had intrigued and enticed her. That and the beseeching look in the wizard's old, tired eyes that made her realise this task must be important, even if the reason was not stated. She sighed reluctantly and blamed her answer on her inescapable Gryffindor traits that placed her in that very house six years ago.

"I'll do it."

XXX

Hermione woke up, checked her clock and calendar, then double checked, then triple checked and fell back onto the bed, her mass of fluffy curls spilling over the pillow. June 30th, 8am. Less than twenty-four hours until she would be stuck with Draco Malfoy for a length of time that Dumbledore tactically failed to mention. She couldn't imagine any length of time being subjected to Malfoy's incessant blood prejudice and sarcastic comments but she'd made a promise to Dumbledore so she packed essentials into a charmed bag, including some clothes she stole from Harry's wardrobe.

She considered taking Harry's jumper that was knitted using Gryffindor's signature colours but decided against it, Malfoy was barely tolerable at the best of times and she didn't want to add fuel to the fire. Instead, she took two pairs of bottoms, two black jumpers and a white shirt, as well as a deep green cable knit jumper that she had found tucked away at the back of the drawer that seemed to have been forgotten. This was no surprise, wearing colours of another house wasn't an accepted trait at Hogwarts, which first years tended to find out the hard way. She remembered Neville wandering into The Great Hall wearing a blue hat and scarf set his grandmother had knitted for him in their first week at Hogwarts, he was later found outside the Ravenclaw common room hanging from the same scarf. The witch chuckled at the memory whilst she took Harry's invisibility cloak he got for Christmas in his first year, and added it to the bag along with her own clothes and other essential items. She then turned to writing and leaving a note for Harry and Ron to put outside their dorm later that day;

Boys,

I've been asked by Dumbledore to take some time away from Hogwarts and I do not know how long I will be gone; my owl will have my location so we can communicate through her. I'm sorry I cannot share more information with the two of you but I will be home soon. Send my love to Bill & Fleur – my wedding gift is under the note. See you soon,

Love, Mione x

XXX

Hermione had begun learning occlumency at the end of fourth year after Voldemort's return and it seemed to be one of the few things she couldn't learn overnight. Two years later and she was still unable to suppress her emotions enough to occlude even the simplest of memories. Because of this the witch wasn't surprised when Ron placed a tentative hand on her shoulder as they wandered into The Great Hall with their fellow Gryffindors.

"Everything okay Mione?" His face was earnest and eager, too eager to be try and be there for her and it caused bile to rise up in her throat as she couldn't help but glance over to the Slytherin table. Through the gap between two Hufflepuffs she could make out the blonde – no, almost white hair that distinguished Draco Malfoy from the rest of the serpents at his table, his face expressionless. His eyes were pure grey and burnt into wherever he looked, his jaw was tense and sharp, similar to his cheekbones and the only colour on his face was the pale tint of his lips that were often set into a thin, hard line. There was no denying, Draco Malfoy was beautiful, a kind of broken beauty that was hidden away from the world and replaced with a mask of malice and hatred. Hermione snapped back to reality before Ron followed the line of her gaze.

"Ron I'm fine" she said, a little too roughly, judging by the look on Ron's face, which would usually tug at her heartstrings but the witch was not only too nervous for the nights events and she had recently become sick at the pressure she felt from everyone in her life to love Ron. Which she did, but in the same way she loved Harry, Neville, Ginny and Luna, he was part of her family. As much as she tried to force herself into the person she was expected to be, she couldn't. There were no sparks or fireworks that the girls she shared a dormitory with for years giggled about at night when she was around Ron, there was just friendship.

She barely ate, instead mirrored Draco's own posture and expression, and wondered what was going to happen in the next coming hours that would endanger him and Dumbledore. Something the old wizard had said the day he asked her to protect Malfoy replayed in her head;

"regardless of the fate I land myself in." Her inner voice repeated the phrase on a loop as though the more she said it the easier it would be to decipher, how many details of the night's events had Dumbledore neglected to inform her of? She would only have to wait less than six hours to find out.

A sharp elbow collided with her ribs and her head snapped up at the pain so quickly she missed a pair of grey eyes burning into her from the direction of the Slytherin table, but caught six pairs of eyes unwavering from her from her own table of Gryffindors. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean all watched her, concern radiating around her as Seamus, the owner of the elbow, opened his mouth to speak, his thick Irish accent muddling his words,

"What's gotten into you Hermione? Face like that you're giving Malfoy a run for his money, a right pair you'd make." He received a snigger off Dean for his efforts as always, a glare from everyone else and a small unnoticeable smirk from Hermione herself.

If only he knew how ironic he was being.

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