Neville paced back and forth nervously in Gryffindor Tower. He was a Gryffindor. He should be brave enough. Neville never considered himself very brave. He was nothing compared to the bravery that Harry exhibited. It wasn't until last year at the D.A. meetings that he felt proud of himself, that he felt like he belonged.
He took a deep breath. He was going to do this, even if it did kill him. (And it might, for that matter). He was going to tell Luna Lovegood that he liked her.
It had slowly been building in him all year. She really was extraordinary, he determined. He had been working up the courage to tell her for months now, but, at the last moment, he never did. He always found a reason not to. He took another deep breath to steady his beating heart. Everything was going to okay. He would tell her and she would tell him that she liked him, too. And everything was going to be perfect.
He found Luna in the library. She was completely engrossed in the current issue of The Quibbler. He took the seat beside her. Without even glancing up at him, she murmured, "Hello, Neville."
"Hi, Luna," he started. He took a deep breath. This shouldn't be so hard. He had talked to Luna a thousand times before. He could do this. "LunaIlikeyou," he said quickly and forcefully. She looked back at him curiously. She may have been the only person in the world who understood what he just said. She sighed.
"It was only a matter of time, I suppose." She put her copy of The Quibbler down on the library table. Neville's fears began creeping up on him again. "I think we should just be good friends, Neville."
And there it was. His hopes crushed in a single sentence. "You don't like me back?" She shook her head.
"Not like that," she answered. "But we'll be good friends, I think." She picked up The Quibbler again and continued to read. The world crashed down around Neville. Luna would continue to be his friend, but nothing more. He stared at the wall for a few minutes before standing up, and with slouched shoulders, trudged back up to Gryffindor tower sadly.
-----
Malfoy tapped his foot impatiently. Granger had never been late before. He knew she had been spending most of her time in the Hospital Wing with the Weasel. He wasn't trying to poison Weasley (though he might have been doing the world a favor, if he did), he didn't even care for the Weasel, but he felt guilty.
Draco rubbed his face tiredly. The Vanishing Cabinet was still not working and he was running out of time. The Dark Lord was going to kill him and his family. Perhaps, that would be better than this, though. This task was already nearly killing him. He hated this. He really despised the task he was given. He wished he had never taken the Mark.
Suddenly, the door to the classroom banged open and Hermione Granger came running in excitedly. Like useful, she was carrying a stack of books, which she threw down on the table beside Draco. "I am so sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed.
He shrugged in response. "Weasel still in the Hospital Wing then?" He didn't dare look at her while he said this, slightly afraid she would be able to see the truth in his eyes.
"Ron," she emphasized, "is feeling better. Not completely well though. Fred and George came up to see him today. That's why I was late." Malfoy said nothing in response. He was staring at his Transfiguration book, determinedly looking away from her. "Madame Pomfrey says he'll be getting better now. Harry and I think someone was trying to poison Dumbledore through Slughorn and Ron just got in the way."
Malfoy again said nothing. Granger was clever. Sooner or later, she would realize the truth that Potter, of all people, had already guessed. At his silence, Granger sighed. "Shall we begin with yesterday's lesson?"
But Draco was still thinking about how she would look at him when she learned the truth. This tutoring thing was a bad idea. He was beginning to care what granger thought. She is a Mudblood, he reminded himself. What she thinks of you doesn't matter. But he couldn't bring himself to believe that.
What would his father say about this? Lucius had always told him to ignore Mudbloods, despise them. They were nothing, not real wizards. But Granger was the top of their class. He didn't think her ability to be a witch had anything to do with her blood.
Wordlessly, he returned to the essay he needed to write for Professor McGonagall. He didn't say anything to granger for the rest of their time, completely wrapped up in his own thoughts.
-----
"Granger," Fred Weasley said, "I thought people in relationships were supposed to be honest with each other." Hermione chuckled.
"It's not my secret to tell," she said for what seemed like the thousandth time.
Fred and Hermione were talking through the two way mirrors again. The moment she sat on her bed, she heard him calling her name. She quickly casted a silencing spell around her, so Lavender and Parvati couldn't hear them. "I've been wanting to talk to you all day!" was the first thing Fred said to her before promptly interrogating her for information on Harry and Ginny.
"Hermione," Fred continued, "it's obvious he likes her, I just want to know exactly how long it's been going on."
"Which you will then tell to George," she pointed out. "The point of secrets is to keep them that way." Fred rolled his eyes.
"George won't tell anyone," Fred promised. Hermione raised her eyebrow at that. "Okay, maybe Lee. But that'll be it." Hermione sighed. She supposed that since Fred and already guessed it, she could tell him.
"Alright," she relented. "Harry's like her since the beginning of the school year." Fred's face lit up in greedy triumph. "But she's still dating Dean Thomas?"
Hermione chuckled a little. "That's not going to last very much longer," she told him. "They've been arguing a lot lately. I think he knows she doesn't like him as much as he likes her."
"Then Harry'll ask her out?" Fred wanted to know.
"I'm not sure," Hermione stated. Fred raised an eyebrow at that. Hermione knew everything in his look. She sighed. "I think he's worried about asking her out, her being Ron's sister."
"So? She's my sister, too," Fred replied, frowning, missing the point.
"Ron doesn't like her dating," Hermione explicated. "Harry doesn't want to ruin his friendship with Ron." Fred shrugged.
"Harry can have Ginny. She's liked him long enough."
"Ginny won't think about it until she and Dean break up."
"They better hurry up with it then," grunted Fred impatiently.
-----
Ron was released from the Hospital Wing the following Monday morning. Together, Ron, Harry, and Hermione plodded down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As they were walking, Hermione informed them that Dean and Ginny were arguing rather loudly in Gryffindor Tower.
"What were they arguing about?" Harry asked.
"Oh, Dean was laughing about McLaggen hitting that Bludger at you, Harry." Ron was sad that he had missed the last Quidditch match. He did enjoy Luna Lovegood's commentary.
"It must've looked funny," Ron reasoned, wishing he had seen it.
"It didn't look funny at all!" said Hermione hotly. "It looked terrible and if Coole and Peakes hadn't caught Harry, he could have been very badly hurt!"
"Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it," Harry said. "Or are they still together?"
Ron frowned. Why did Harry care so much about Ginny and Dean's relationship? Before Ron could voice his questions, Luna Lovegood appeared with a small roll of parchment, which she handed to Harry. "I've been told to give you this."
Harry glanced at the parchment before murmuring "Tonight," to Hermione and Ron. Another lesson with Dumbledore, Ron thought.
"Nice commentary last match!" Ron said to Luna. She smiled vaguely at him.
"You're making fun of me, aren't you?" she answered. "Everyone says I was dreadful."
"No, I'm serious!" he immediately refuted. "I can't remember enjoying commentary more!" She brightened a little at his words. She muttered a "thank you" before scampering off to breakfast. "You know, she's grown on me, Luna," Ron commented as they set off again for the Great Hall. "I know she's insane, but it's in a good-" Ron stopped talking as his eyes landed on the Slytherin table.
Pansy Parkinson was glaring at him like he was the scum of the earth. Her glare only lasted a moment before she turned back to her food. For a moment, he thought back to when he had collided with her in the corridor weeks ago. Could she have poisoned him? He wondered. He wouldn't put it past her. She was a Slytherin, after all.
As they sat down to breakfast, Ron told Harry and Hermione about his concerns. Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Really, Ron," she said, "it's a lot to accuse Pansy of poisoning you based on bumping into her in the corridor. I agree she's vile. But it doesn't make sense. Whoever poisoned you was trying to poison Dumbledore."
Ron grunted and focused his attention on his food. Hermione might not have thought that Pansy was responsible for his poisoning, but he was certainly going to be keeping an eye on her from now on.
-----
Hermione was finding it hard to be patient with Harry these days. After every tutoring session she had with Malfoy, Harry demanded she tell him everything Malfoy had said. He was completely obsessed with proving that Malfoy was a Death Eater. A few days after Ron was released from the Hospital Wing, she decided she'd had enough of Malfoy talk.
A crack distracted them from their school work. Kreacher appeared before them. The house-elf bowed low and addressed the ground as he spoke. "Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give-"
Crack. Dobby appeared beside Kreacher. "Dobby has been helping, too, Harry Potter!" he squeaked, giving Kreacher a resentful look. "And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!"
"What is this," Hermione wanted to know, still somewhat surprised by the house-elves' sudden appearance. "What's going on, Harry?" he hesitated before answering, telling her he knew she wasn't going to approve of this.
"Well...they've been following Malfoy for me," he said.
"Night and day," croaked Kreacher.
"Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!" said Dobby proudly, swaying where he stood. Hermione was indignant. After all the time she spent telling him about house-elf injustice!
"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him not to-"
"No, of course, I didn't," said Harry quietly. "Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?"
Hermione couldn't before this. He was using Kreacher and Dobby to feed his insane obsession that Malfoy was up to something. She certainly agreed that Malfoy was hiding something, but that was none of Harry's business.
Her anger fell away to curiousness when Dobby said that Malfoy was spending time in the Room of Requirements. What was he doing in there? She wondered.
She pushed those thoughts away, refusing to feed Harry's insane obsession.
-----
Fred had promised that he would watch for Hermione's parents for her and he was doing just that. George was with him. It was cool night with a hint of rain surrounding them. In all honesty, Fred didn't expect anything to happen. He was tired, it had been a long day and he wasn't as alert as he should have been.
Fred and George passed a woman and her daughter. Fred was certain he had seen the woman somewhere before. The woman smiled politely at them while they passed by. Her daughter, on the other hand, stared openly at Fred and George in confusion. "Mummy!" she exclaimed, pointing at Fred and George. "They look the same!"
The woman looked embarrassed by her own daughter. "Yes, dear, they're twins." She the looked up at Fred and George. "I'm so sorry," she said hastily.
"That's alright," Fred told her kindly.
"Hold on," said George. "You're Christine Carthy, aren't you?" She hesitated for a moment.
"Do I know you?"
"We're Fred and George Weasley. You went to school with our brother, Charlie." Her face brightened a little.
"Oh, yes, Charlie! My how many Weasleys are there?"
"Too many according to our Aunt Muriel." Christine chuckled a little.
"Well, we better get going," she said, glancing down at her daughter. She hesitated a moment more before rushing to say, "Listen, if you could keep it quiet that you saw us. With the Death Eaters after Muggle-borns, we're trying to..." She seemed lost for the word.
"Hide?" Fred guessed. She nodded. "Course, we won't tell anyone."
"Thank you," said Christine before she and her daughter continued on their way. Fred and George had only made it a block before they heard a scream.
Immediately, Fred and George ran back, following the sounds of the screams. They found Christine and her daughter were surrounded by Death Eaters. Fred drew his wand, ready for the fight that would ensue.
Meanwhile, George took out a small container from his pocket. Opening it, a tornado appeared from the container growing bigger as it raced towards one of the Death Eaters. The tornado crashed into him, throwing him to the ground. Angry now the other two shouted non-verbal spells at Fred and George, momentarily forgetting Christine, who was standing between her daughter and the Death Eaters.
Fred shot the Jelly-legs Jinx at one of them and narrowing missed a curse from the other. George shouted, "Stupefy," at the taller one, who promptly fell over.
"Expelliarmus!" Fred yelled, pointing at the Death Eater, who was trying to un-jellify his legs. When this was finished, they looked over at the young mother.
"Thank you," she said, her eyes tearing up. Fred and George escorted the woman to her house. "Things are only going to get worse from here, aren't they?" Christine said. She sighed. "I need to get us out of here. Until You-Know-Who is completely gone. It's going to be hard, though, with them watching the Floo network and Portkeys."
"We could send a letter to Charlie," George suggested. "He's been helping other Muggle-borns, I'm sure he'd be glad to help you."
"Thank you," she said again.
Fred and George continued to patrol the neighborhood, in case more Death Eaters arrived. It was an hour before Fred spoke, saying, "That little girl had very red hair." Fred and George glanced at one another before dismissing the idea. No, it wasn't possible. Just a coincidence.
-----
Draco Malfoy was tired. On some level, Draco was glad he was unable to take his Apparition test. It was one less thing to worry about. He could spend the time, instead, working on the Vanishing Cabinet. Since Ron Weasley accidentally was poisoned, Draco decided to suspend any attempt on the old professor's life until he had finished the cabinet. This way, no one would get in the way, this way no one would be unnecessarily hurt. He only wanted to be responsible for Dumbledore's death.
There were only three of them in Potions the afternoon everyone went off to take their Apparitions' test: Draco, Potter, and MacMillan. "All too young to Apparate just yet?" Slughorn said when they walked into the classroom. "Not turned seventeen yet?"
They shook their heads in response. "Ah well," continued Slughorn. Cheerily, as we're so few, we'll do something fun. "I want you all to brew me up something amusing!"
Malfoy groaned inwardly. Why couldn't Slughorn just let them sit or let them spend the class in the library. Anything other than this. "What do you mean 'something amusing'?" he said.
"Oh, surprise me," Slughorn continued brightly.
With a grunt, Malfoy opened his copy of Advanced Potion Making with a sulk expression. He thought this was a giant waste of time. Perhaps, the sooner he finished the sooner he could leave.
Draco missed the days that he loved Potions. It was his best course and he was talented at it. But now, he couldn't find any joy in mixing items together. He had wanted, once, to be a Healer. But even that, wish had long since disappeared from his life. All he wanted now was to survive to finish his task, save his life, and that of his family.
As he worked, he could feel Potter's eyes on him. Potter was always following him. Everywhere he was, Potter somehow knew where he was. Potter had always been a nuisance, but he was completely intolerable this year.
One thing he couldn't understand was how Potter was doing so well in Potions this year. Initially, Draco thought he was being tutored by Granger. But she seemed annoyed by his sudden ability to do Potions. Granger hated being outshined by Potter.
Granger. He felt guilty thinking about her. He would eventually show her the truth about him and she would hate him. They had been something like friends the past few weeks, but that was going to change the moment she learned the truth about him. He shouldn't care this much, but he did. His betrayal to her was going to be terrible.
Still, he could not help himself from attending the tutoring sessions. He supposed if these times were going to end, he might as well enjoy them while he could. They might have just sat and do their homework, but he cherished those moments. They were a ray of light in the darkness of his life.
The month of May came upon Draco suddenly. He was running out of time. One day, he raced to the restroom to throw up what little food he had been able to eat that day. The full reality of the situation fell on him. He was going to die. He would never see the future he had planned out for himself. He would never be a Healer, never fall in love, never grow old. He was going to die by the Dark Lord's hand and go down in history as a statistic.
Draco stood with his back to the restroom door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his head bowed as he began to cry.
"Don't," said a familiar voice. Moaning Myrtle. She was trying to comfort him again. "Don't....tell me what's wrong...I can help you..."
"No one can help me," Draco said. "I can't do it...I can't...It won't work...and unless I do it soon...he says he'll kill me..." Tears were flowing down his face uncontrollably. And then he felt it. The all-too familiar feeling of Potter watching him. He glanced up and saw Potter's reflection in the mirror.
Determination set in Malfoy. He was so done with Harry Potter. He raised his wand.
Hermione stared at Harry, her mouth opened in surprise. How could Harry do this? E was the good guy. He was kind, a good person. She knew that book was terrible. And she told harry just as much. "Will you stop harping on about that book!" snapped Harry. "The Prince only copied it out! It's not like he was advising anyone to use it! For all we know, he was making a note of something that had been used against him!"
"I don't believe this!" said Hermione. "You're actually defending-"
"I'm not defending what I did!" Harry said quickly. "I wish I hadn't done it, and not just because I've got about a dozen detentions. You know I wouldn't've used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy, but you can't blame the Prince, he hadn't written 'try this out, it's really good'- he was just making notes for himself, wasn't he, not for anyone else..."
"Are you telling me," Hermione muttered in annoyance, "that you're going to go back-"
"And get the book? Yeah, I am," Harry answered forcefully. "Listen, without the prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have-"
"-got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve," Hermione spat.
"Oh, give it a rest, Hermione!" interjected Ginny loudly. "By the sound of it, Malfoy was trying to use an Unforgivable Curse, you should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve."
"Well, of course. I'm glad Harry wasn't cursed!" Hermione stated, hurt that Ginny would think otherwise. "But you can't call that Sectumsempra spell good, Ginny, look where it's landed him! And I'd have thought, seeing what this had done to your chances in the match-"
"Oh, don't start acting as though you understand Quidditch," Ginny snapped. "You'll only embarrass yourself."
Angry, Hermione folded her arms and stared Ginny down. The red didn't back down from the challenge. She was right, Hermione didn't understand Quidditch, but she did understand how important it could be to people. Fred was still upset he wasn't able to participate in his final year of Quidditch. She didn't want to have regrets, too.
Finally, Hermione stood, gathered her books and shoved them in her bag. "Where're you going?" Ron wanted to know.
"The Hospital Wing," Hermione replied. She looked at Ginny pointedly. "Because I actually care whether or not Malfoy is going to be okay." Ginny huffed and looked away.
Malfoy looked pitiful. His face was extremely pale. He opened his eyes when he heard Hermione's footsteps. "Come to finish me off?" he asked, bitterly.
"I came tos ee if you were okay," she replied gently. Tears formed in his eyes, surprising Hermione. She had never seen Malfoy so vulnerable.
"I haven't be okay in a long time, Granger," he told her honestly. He was broken. Utterly broken. Before Draco could help himself, he began telling her the truth about it all. He told her about the Dark Lord appearing in his home over the summer. He told her about the mission he had to completely in order to stay alive, to protect himself, and his family. Hermione's face paled as he spoke. He drew the sleeve of his left arm back, showing her the Mark. She gasped. She moved back from him, repulsed. But he grabbed her hand to stop her and continued. He told her about how he was behind Katie Bell's curse and Weasley's poisoning. He mentioned the Room of Requirements and the Vanishing Cabinet. She looked panicked when he finished.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked scared.
"I just needed you to know, at least for right now, that I don't think you're a Mudblood. I think you're Hermione Granger. My Muggle-born friend." Compassion filled her face. "I'm sorry, Granger. I'm so, so sorry."
"It's okay," she told him quickly. "We'll go to Professor Dumbledore, he'll know what to do. He can help."
"No one can help me, Granger." Draco drew his wand. A sad, remorseful look appeared on his face. "Oblivate!"
-----
Dumbledore was dead. Hermione couldn't believe it. Professor Dumbledore was supposed to be around forever. The world seemed to have darkened over night. And how could Malfoy have done this? How could he have let those Death Eaters into the school! She thought...well, she knew he was hiding something. And Harry was right the whole time. Draco Malfoy was just a Death Eater.
Those tutoring sessions probably meant nothing to him, just a distraction from completely the wishes of his master. They weren't friends, he had made that clear through their knowing each other for six years.
Snape had killed Dumbledore and Malfoy was a Death Eater. The world was getting darker. But a part of her hoped that life would get better for Malfoy. Because even though she was nothing to him, she cared for him like he was a friend.