Terrible Thoughts

Hermione was determined to speak to Draco. She couldn't remember being more hurt than when she had read those few lines on that scrap of parchment. Leave me alone. If it was Harry, she would understand. As he'd gotten older, he'd become more prickly and used anger to let his inner turmoil out. If it was Ron, she would shrug it off. The boy was consumed by his daily intake of jealousy and low self-confidence.


But this was Draco. Draco, whom she'd become friends with by utter chance. Draco whom she'd faced fear with, and communicated her greatest worries to. Draco whom she'd pledged her unwavering loyalty to. Why did it have to be him?


Draco had been a constant in her life. If Harry had been furious, she would talk to Draco. If Ron was being grouchy, she'd moan to her heart's content to the world's least-favourite Slytherin. But the distance between them now stopped time. Her world couldn't continue turning. It had stopped revolving; the axis was stuck in a period of mourning and envy of a time that was lost. She had to speak to him.

*

Draco eventually returned to classes. He still kept to himself and relied now on the sole company of Blaise to keep him sane. He employed Crabbe and Goyle, once again, as his slaves and made them guard the Room of Requirement in varying disguises while he worked away inside.


Not even Blaise knew what he was working on. Not even Hermione had guessed what his ultimate aim was. It was too dark, too sinister, for either one of them to happen across it. The murder of a very prominent wizard; a mentor to each and every student at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.


Draco knew the task was wrong. It was an evil, awful crime to commit. But the Dark Lord had threatened his family. If it had been his father, he could live with it. If it was Bellatrix, he could cope. However, the nose less monster was including both his mother and his godfather into the equation. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to either of them.


So, for now, Draco was enduring. He was coping. That didn't mean that he didn't miss a certain kind-hearted know-it-all, though. Draco missed Hermione a lot. She wouldn't understand what he had to do. She wouldn't understand why he'd given her that letter. She wouldn't understand the well-meaning behind such a sharp shock of a note.


It was Saturday. Draco had reached another weekend, after days of tedious lessons and silly gossip. Another weekend without Granger. It had been months. He didn't know how many – he hadn't counted – but he was sure she would know. If only he plucked up the courage to defy his master and speak to the courageous Gryffindor once again...

*****

A.N. This might be what you would call a filler chapter! 

Next: You guessed it - they'll meet again!

Thank you for reading and please comment if you have any suggestions, corrections, constructive criticism, etc.

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