a/n: I really should hurry the plot along... but first a few clarifying notes: while I'm still debating with myself on the pairing, I know for certain there will be no Harry/Hermione (see my author page for reason) or Harry/Cho (his last conversation with her was on a strictly "just friends" basis). And I also don't intend to make this a slash, so there aren't many options left. We'll see... maybe I'll think differently later.

Remember, this chapter is written in Harry's point of view.

I would also like to thank Satori for so kindly beta-ing this chapter. THANK YOU!

Harry heard his footsteps pounding against the cold stone floors as he ran to the library. Hermione hated tardiness, but he had lost track of the time.

He could make out voices from the Great Hall below as the student population settled down for their midday meal. The rest of the school was mercifully empty, and the steady drumming of his feet emphasized his solitude.

He was panting by the time he reached the entrance; his chest was heaving and he was slightly bent over from a stitch in his side. Several stitches, actually. He wanted to stay still for a while, to calm himself a bit. But Hermione was waiting. Wincing, he straightened his back, opened the door and slowly walked in, his quick breaths betraying his sprint here.

The library seemed devoid of all life, with the exception of Madame Pince, skinny as ever, who glared at Harry as one would if an unwanted rodent had wandered into one's home. He was probably breathing too loudly.

As casually as he could, Harry strolled towards the back of the large room, all the while feeling the librarian's hawk-like eyes on his back. He turned into a section of spellbooks and disappeared from her view. There were no windows here. Instead the area was lit was torches placed at regular intervals. A few shelves back was the table Hermione frequented.

But Hermione wasn't there, neither were the columns of books and piles of parchment that often followed her. The table was barren, without so much as a note explaining her absence. Harry stood there, puzzled. She was never late. Never. Unless something terrible had happened, for Hermione prided herself on promptness as well as intelligence.

Harry didn't want to jump to conclusions. She could just be browsing while she waited, he told himself.

Lugging along all of her books? No, she would have left her book bag. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken once again.

Could she have been attacked because of him? He remembered the hostility he experienced due to the rumours. It was common knowledge that he and Hermione were friends, what if someone hurt her to get back at him? At that thought immense guilt filled him, along with fierce anger at both his tormenters and at himself for not being able to protect her, be there for her.

In his distracted state, Harry didn't notice a figure lurking in the shadows behind him.

"She's not going to suddenly apparate in front of you, you know." Harry jumped at the voice. He spun around and stared between the tall, wooden bookshelves.

A scrawny boy of sixteen was leaning against a shelf, calmly perusing a large leather-bound tome. His face was just about a meter away from the circle of light emitting from the torch above Hermione's table.

"Who are you?" Harry asked cautiously. The boy didn't answer; he merely closed his book with a muffled thump and placed it back among the dusty covers in the row behind him. He took a step towards Harry.

"Who are you?" Harry repeated, automatically moving back. The other boy responded by stepping again. Harry felt the edge of the table against the small of his back. The mysterious young man moved another step, his black hair flashing in the light. Harry's breath hissed in an attempt to conceal a gasp.

The boy smirked, clearly amused, bright green eyes slightly enlarged by thick glasses. Harry's green eyes. If the two had been standing in the same position, it would have been as though each were gazing at their reflection.

"Hello Potter."

"You..." Harry managed. He swallowed and started over. "What did you do to Hermione?"

His twin's smile widened.

"What did you do!" Harry yelled. From a distant part of the library, an audible shush could be heard from Madame Pince.

"Watch your temper," the other said easily.

Harry struggled to even out his voice.

"Who are you?" he reverted back to his first question.

"Ah, that is why I'm here. I've decided to reveal my identity to you," his likeness drawled, "before Granger does. You see, she was here earlier, and caught me still in this form. From the conversation that ensued, she somehow figured out my identity." He checked his watch. "I'll transform back in five minutes."

"Where is she now?" Harry growled.

"To be honest, I don't know. She left before you arrived," was the reply. "Truly," he added, still smirking, as Harry fingered his wand.

Harry hated that smirk, and the way it twisted up his features. He hated how cold he looked. And how different from the face he saw everyday in the mirror before leaving the dorm for breakfast. It was a very familiar, annoying smile.

"Four minutes."

"I don't need you to transform to know who you are, " Harry spat out.

"Really?" the other raised an eyebrow, an expression Harry could never do.

"Oh, let me guess," Harry said sarcastically, "Malfoy?" The look-a-like was taken back.

"Out of curiosity," he recovered, "did you really figure it out or," he paused, "do you just always jump to that name?"

"Both," said Harry

"I see." He took off the spectacles as his hair started lightening. Within moments, it was clear that Harry had been correct.

"You..." again Harry was at a lost for words, this time because of pure rage. "You..."

"Yes. I imagine this day has been hell for you, hasn't it?" Draco commented serenely.

Harry lifted his wand and screamed a curse at him. But Draco had no trouble dodging it, leaving him more incensed.

"And it will continue to be hell, only worse," he continued, moving as a group of books flew out from the shelf beside him. "Do you know why? Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew out into Draco's outstretched palm. "Because now you know about me," he walked towards Harry, who stiffened. "You know I'm the cause of it all." He was less than half a meter away. Harry wanted to lunge at him and punch his lights out, but he had the wands. "It will tear you up, because you can't prove it," Draco was directly before Harry now. He leaned in until his lips were centimeters from Harry's ear. "There's nothing you can do about it," he whispered. Harry could have killed him if Draco wasn't holding his wand.

Draco turned away just as Madame Pince rounded the corner. Her eyes took in the scene in horror. Her books!

"We had a bit of an accident," Draco spoke smoothly. With a fluid wave he repaired the shelves and replaced the books. "Won't happen again." With that, he handed Harry back his wand and strolled away.

a/n: For those of you who didn't already know, one by one, my muses have left. All that remains is a serious case of writer's block, among other things. SO IT'S UP TO YOU READERS TO INSPIRE AND MOTIVATE ME BY REVIEWING! Or this story will end now and –

Harry: WHAT? This story can't end yet! We can't let that prat Malfoy get away with this!

Hermione: And what about me? Malfoy did something TERRIBLE to me and you aren't even going to justify that!

Ron: What could he do to you in the library?

Hermione: Oh shut up Ron –

Harry: Ron! Where have you been?

Ron: Uh… er…

(door opens and slams close)

Draco: Let's get this over with – hey! What is this? This isn't a special Slytherin prefect meeting! And what's SHE doing here! (points to Akantha) Oh I get it! You will rot in Azkaban for kidnapping me!

Akantha: I have no intention of that sort. Not everything is about you, you know. I have merely invited –

Draco: TRICKED you mean!

Akantha: (continues, ignoring him) - invited you to come here to discuss the progress of the story.

Harry: And when she told us about the unfortunate disappearances of her muses, we decided to ask the readers for more reviews so she can continue the plot.

Draco: Oh, that's all? (everyone nods) Well, in that case, DON'T REVIEW, DAMMIT! I LIKE IT JUST LIKE THIS! CONTINUING IT WILL BE WRONG! WHO KNOWS WHAT TWISTED EVENTS SHE HAS ON HER MIND – mmehmuh… (the Trio have bound and gagged him)

Harry: Heh, don't listen to him. He's not feeling well, because he wants you to review as much as we do.

Ron: So don't let us down!

a/n: No Malfoys were really hurt during the making of this scene.