Over the next week, Hermione put all her energy into the project that Slughorn had assigned them. She had decided to brew some Felix Felicis for Ron. He had been there for her, and she really hadn’t appreciated his friendship like she should have.
Keeping herself busy with brewing the potion had helped to keep her mind off of Draco; not permanently, but enough to get her to the point where she no longer cried herself to sleep.
“Oh ho! What do we have here, Felix Felicis?”
“Yes, sir,” Hermione answered, as Slughorn passed by her caldron.
“Well, that must be a good friend, for you to brew that. It’s a very advanced potion. Carry on, Ms. Granger,” Slughorn said, and continued walking around the dungeon classroom.
She had seen Draco look over when Slughorn had exclaimed about her potion, but she had resisted the urge to look at him. Now that Slughorn had moved on however, with nothing to fix her gaze on, she made eye contact with Draco.
There as a look in his eyes that she had never seen before, and she wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
‘Ha! He better not have any illusions that I am brewing this for him,’ she thought.
She went back to concentrating on her potion; she wanted to make sure it turned out perfect for Ron.
She glanced at Ron and Harry. They too were concentrating on their potions, not saying a word. She thought she knew why; they had decided that they didn’t want to make it anymore uncomfortable for her in Potions than it already was.
‘I couldn’t have asked for better friends.’
Hermione sighed and began stirring the half finished Felix Felicis; clockwise how her text book instructed.
*~*~*~*~
He looked up when Slughorn had exclaimed that Hermione was brewing Felix Felicis. He knew that she wasn’t brewing it for him, but he still found it interesting that she had chosen that particular potion.
‘Well, not really,’ he thought. ‘She is probably brewing it for Potter and Weasely, thinking that it will help in the plan Dumbledore’s come up with.’
Dumbledore’s plan. He had been called back to Dumbledore’s office two days ago, and Dumbledore had told him his idea. It was a clever idea, but also risky; he knew they would lose some people. He hoped to God that Hermione wouldn’t be one of them.
His part in the whole thing was the most complicated. He was now working on increasing his power as an Occlumens with Professor Snape; if he didn’t master this skill they were all as good as dead, including Hermione.
Draco sighed when Hermione looked away from him, and turned back to the potion that he was making for her. It was very complex, and he had been working feverishly on it, making sure Slughorn never exclaimed about it so that Hermione would not know what he was making.
‘I hope it will at least get her to think better of me.’
The bell sounded and Draco set his caldron aside and put away his things. He got up and headed towards the door. He got to the door just as Hermione, Ron and Harry were trying to leave. He just stared at Hermione, who stared back for a moment, and then exited the class room. Ron walked out after her with a mixed expression of hatred and pity on his face; Draco was no fool, he knew Ron fancied Hermione, but was controlling himself because of how distressed Hermione was. Harry on the other hand had an apologetic look on his face as he left the class room after the other two.
Draco sighed. ‘Well,’ he thought. ‘This is what I get.’
*~*~*~*~
Later that night, Draco sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, but he didn’t join in with everyone else eating dinner. He was looking over at the Gryffindor table, staring at the back of Hermione’s head. She had started sitting with her back to him.
“Ah!” Draco let out an involuntary gasp of pain. He looked down at his left arm, but didn’t have to roll up his sleeve to know that the Dark Mark there was as vivid as ever. He was being summoned.
Several people at the Slytherin table had looked up at his gasp of pain, but he glared at them, and they went back to eating their dinner.
He couldn’t wait that much longer before meeting the Dark Lord, or there would be consequences, but he had to tell Dumbledore before he left.
Draco got up and headed to the staff table. When he got there, he addressed Dumbledore.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said. “But, I need to speak with you, its important.”
Dumbledore looked at him and nodded. “Ok, Mr. Malfoy, lets step out onto the grounds.”
Dumbledore got up and walked out onto the castle grounds with Draco. Once they were a good distance from the front doors, he spoke.
“Voldemort is summoning you, isn’t he?” Dumbledore asked.
“Yes, sir,” Draco said. “Um, what do I...I mean, how do I do this?”
“Well, the most important thing is that you maintain the block on your mind. I’m afraid that is all I can tell you. You, will have to come up with satisfactory answers to any of his questions, and try to learn as much as you can, without being detected.”
“Right,” Draco said with a grimace.
Dumbledore looked at him with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry to have to ask this of you, Draco. I have Severus, but Voldemort has become too suspicious of him lately.”
“It’s alright,” Draco answered. “I want to do this. He’s the reason Herm-…I mean, he’s the reason my life is so screwed up. I want to help get rid of him.”
Dumbledore nodded. “You better go, Voldemort will not be forgiving if you are late.”
Draco nodded and began to walk towards the Apparition point. Before Draco departed, Dumbledore spoke.
“Draco, do not let it trouble or distract you. It will work out, but you must keep it buried deep in your mind.”
Draco nodded, then turned and Disapparated.
When he reappeared, he was standing in the usual graveyard Voldemort summoned his Death Eaters to. He didn’t see Voldemort right away, which made him very uneasy. He double checked that his mind was sufficiently prepared to block any attempt at entrance.
All of a sudden he heard movement behind him, and turned to see Voldemort. Draco bowed low.
All of a sudden, felt a strong force pressing against his head, as if something was trying to break through his skull.
“You are blocking me,” Voldemort hissed. “What are you hiding from your master?”
“I am hiding nothing, my Lord,” Draco answered, while trying to maintain the block in his mind.
“You are! Do not lie to your master!” Voldemort hissed. “Show me.” His voice was murderously low, and Draco felt the force in his head increase in strength, but he fought it.
Then the pressure eased, and Voldemort stopped his attempt to gain access to his mind. Draco didn’t dare look up at him.
“Who has been instructing you in Occlumency?” he asked.
“No one, my Lord, I have been teaching myself.”
“Do not lie!” Voldemort hissed. “Crucio!”
Draco’s knees hit the ground, and were soon followed by the rest of his body, as he fell screaming and writhing on the ground at Voldemort’s feet. He couldn’t think. It was getting harder to maintain the block in his mind, but then, when he thought he could hold out no longer, Voldemort lifted the curse.
“Now, tell me,” came his snake like voice. “Who has been instructing you in Occlumency?”
This time however, instead of waiting for an answer, Voldemort again tried to enter Draco’s mind. Draco felt his presence just at the edge of the weakening barrier. He fought hard to keep it in place, which was difficult in his weakened state.
“Show me who,” Voldemort ordered.
Draco tried to maintain control, but was unable to keep the image of Snape from coming to the forefront of his mind in answer to the question. At once the force that was trying to enter his mind disappeared.
“Severus,” Voldemort whispered. “He, is a powerful Occlumens, which accounts for your learned ability. But, why has he made it his job to teach you Occlumency?”
Draco coughed as he answered. “He thought…he thought it would be a good skill, my Lord, in case I were to ever be captured and questioned.”
“Then why,” bellowed Voldemort. “Are you using it against your master!? Crucio!”
Again, Draco was writhing and screaming in pain. This time Voldemort did not stop to ask him another question, he wasn’t stopping at all. Draco thought he would go mad with all the pain, or be killed. He could already feel blood flowing out of his mouth and down the side of his face. Against his will he thought of Hermione. At once the curse stopped.
Voldemort swooped down, and pulled Draco up towards him by his hair.
“So, you did lie,” Voldemort said. “I am no fool. I knew you were never loyal to me. Dumbledore won’t be acquiring another spy.” He drew Draco’s blood stained face closer to his. “You are dying. It is going to be slow and painful for you,” he hissed. “But, you have enough strength left to Apparate back to Hogwarts. Go, I want you to die there.”
Voldemort stood up looking down at Draco. Draco was struggling to get breath; each attempt caused sharp pain and more blood to issue from his mouth.
“Go,” Voldemort said, with an evil hiss. “I want that filthy Mudblood to watch you die.”