November: Chapter Two

Disclaimer: A characters, settings and the such belong to J.K., the plot-line isn't even uniquely mine.

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Chapter Two: The Diary

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It was one thing to admit to each other that they were in it for the win, but working together was still going to take a lot of work, especially when you couldn't stand being in the same room as the person.

Another week had passed, and Hermione sat in the library once more, Malfoy opposite her, textbooks strewn in between. Malfoy's nose was stuck in The Advantage of Bloodstone in the Synthesis of Stone-enhanced, Erotic Potion-making.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, we are not making an erotic potion. I will not be known for winning this prize as the first person to same the top one hundred uses for erotic potions."

Malfoy sneer over the book, "Yes, Granger, that was why I was reading this," he mutter sarcastically. "It could never have been because of Bloodstone, could it?"

Hermione jumped at this, they had been stumped for ideas, though she was still wary. "You have an idea," she asked cautiously.

"Sort of..." Malfoy replied, putting the text aside. "I read once about the uses of Bloodstone in dead-raising potions..."

Hermione cut him off there. "Wait... You want to research potions to bring people back to life...?"

Malfoy seemed to look at her for the first time, his eyes so intense, Hermione had to lean back from him. He began shaking his head.

"I don't want to research existing ones, I want to make one."

Hermione sat back, shaking her head now. "You're insane, completely insane. There is no way we're doing this, no way. How are we supposed to create something like that, before March. March, Malfoy! That's only six months away. This would take a lifetime."

"What if I told you I had that lifetime of research?" Malfoy asked, leaning forward, his expression excited.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, wary.

"Slughorn knows my grandfather, remember?" Malfoy began, Hermione looked doubtful. "Abraxas Malfoy, you probably haven't heard of him beyond my mentioning him last year. Well, Slughorn knows him, because they were chummy back in school, and both of them went through advanced Potions, and both passed, top of the class. My grandfather began some research for the ministry, on the side. But no-one else knew, he was doing some research of his own. I was in the Manor's library over the summer, and I found this."

Malfoy ducked into his bag and pulled out a thick leather-bound diary, dropping in on the table. Hermione saw dust dislodge from its covers, it was obviously quite old.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, picking it up to examine.

It was a reddish leather, with a bronze clip. What Hermione presumed to be the Malfoy family crest was splayed across the front cover. She unclipped it, opening its contents wide. Various loose papers began to fall out, and she quickly pushed them back into their places before they were completely dislodged from the diary.

She turned the flyleaf and found, scrawled in an old-fashioned gait, the words: Notes taken, 1937 – Abraxas Malfoy.

Hermione glanced back up at Malfoy. "His diary...?"

"Not just his diary," Malfoy said, taking the re-clipped diary back. "I've been reading some of it. Its one of the diaries he kept, about all this thoughts and research on a topic. And this one, is about His Death-raising potion. And there are more, I've found three, but I imagine there are more. I just have to find them. And he didn't have the use of the Hogwarts Library, only the Manor library, and parts of the Great Library, in the Ministry. Imagine what we would learn, using these and all those resources."

Hermione looked back at him, astonished. "You have got to be joking, Malfoy. Can you imagine the amount of time the text finding would take alone..."

But he cut her off there. "Do you want to win, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes once more. "Of course I want to win, why else would I be working with you?"

"This is flawless, Granger. The research is flawless, he just didn't live long enough to complete it. If we pulled this off, there would be no-way we wouldn't win. This is first class research. You know Dumbledore won his Order of Merlin for his research, this is our ticket."

"You want an Order of Merlin?" Hermione asked, almost laughing at the enthusiasm on Malfoy's face.

"But what if we could, Granger."

Malfoy stowed the diary back in his bag, getting up lethargically from the table. "Think about it."

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Malfoy's words played over and over in her mind. What if they could use his idea? Was she going insane, or was the idea becoming less ludicrous the more she thought about it.

She found this Research Challenge was beginning to take over her entire thinking process. Was this what it was going to be like? Would she compromise her other subjects for the stake of winning?

She soon found she was turning up in places without even noticing how she got there, because she had been thinking so hard.

It was one of these times, and she found herself in Potions, of all places. The class had just ended, and she couldn't remember a thing that had happened.

Slughorn was making his way towards her, his expression grim.

"I'm shocked, Miss. Granger, I have never seen you less attentive in a class... well, ever. Is the stress starting to get to you?" Slughorn, lent against her table, making it creak under his weight.

"Stress, sir?" Hermione asked, quizzical.

"Of the challenge, child. The stress always gets to the great ones. But just remember, any questions, just chuck them at the old boy, and I'll see what I can do."

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile, he was looking down at her with a worried brow. It wasn't until Malfoy spoke that she actually realised he was there.

"We will, sir," came Malfoy from behind, making Hermione jump slightly in her seat.

"So, have you got an idea yet?" Slughorn asked, directing his question at Hermione.

Hermione stretched around in her chair, her glance on Malfoy. His eyebrow was raising, he was obviously in anticipation of her answer.

She turned back to Slughorn, his expression grim now. "Not yet, sir. It's still under discussion."

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Hermione tried to hurry out of the classroom, but Malfoy was too quick.

"What do you mean, 'still under discussion'?" Malfoy demanded. "Have you still not made a decision?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied, stopping and leaning against the wall, as though the weight of it was physical.

"As you said, we've only got six months. You've had no ideas, I've had a great one. What could be the issue?" Malfoy asked, standing before her, looking down, his face the picture of exasperation.

Hermione remained silent under his stare, until she could bare it no longer. "What if we fail?" She finally blurted out.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy queried, not at all sympathetic.

"What if we fail? What if we're not good enough?" She asked, her hands moving almost in desperation.

Malfoy sighed, realising her point now. "We can't fail. We just have to win."

Hermione stared up at him, her expression doubtful. "But my point is, Malfoy. What if we don't?"

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End Chapter.

A/N: To my reviewers, I thank you. To the readers whom don't review, I thank you despite it. And to the future reviews, critique me, my dears.

-Elle.