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Chapter One

Request

She never trusted Draco Malfoy. What reasons did she have to? The bullying in school? The Dark Mark branded on his left forearm? His attempt to kill their Headmaster? No, Hermione Granger did not trust Malfoy. Yet, there she was in her office talking with him.

He fidgeted in the char in front of her desk. He tapped his fingers in a crescendo on the armrests and frequently moved to cross his ankles in turn over his legs. He glared at the nameplate, particularly at her last name it seemed.

"Didn't marry Weasel," he whispered.

Instantly she was irritated. "No, I didn't. And his name is Weasley. You have not changed at all since Hogwarts, have you?"

He glowered at her, his silver eyes probing. She found that the most uncomfortable thing he did, not just glaring, but staring deeply into her. It was as though he was reading everything about her. As though he could see every aspect of her, the good, the bad, and the thing she never wanted him to know about her.

He hadn't changed in his demeanor, but he had changed. He was taller nearing six feet, his white-blond hair growing to his brows. He seemed thinner, his face even more pointed than it was in school.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here," he sneered that infamous sneer that she was all too acquainted with.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "There are plenty of good lawyers, Malfoy."

"Yes, but only you can help me."

To her chagrin that interested her. "Why me?"

"Because you helped end the war. I don't want it to begin again."

"Voldemort's dead. You were there, you saw Harry kill him."

He flinched at the name but that didn't stop him from coming forward, his fingers gripping the edge of her desk. His scent was the same, dark and exhilarating. It was foreboding and yet safe. She found herself inhaling it, trying to bring it all in and memorize it, to make the situation real. He was there with her, finally.

She shook it out. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't have been doing that! He was there for business.

Malfoy leaned further in and she leaned back. "Why can't anyone follow in his footsteps," he roughly asked her.

Like cold water down her spine, chills raised bumps on her arms. She wanted to shake him, curse him, she wanted to do something. What was it that he knew? She shook her head, it wasn't her business, she had to direct him to someone else. "I can't help you, that isn't in my line of work. Go to Harry - "

"No," he spat.

"I'm a lawyer, not an Auror."

"You don't understand, Hermione, it has to be you. You have to do this."

She was so startled by the use of her given name that all she could ask was, "why?"

"You fought, you have it in you. You're smart. Only you can destroy the last piece." He reached into his brown briefcase and withdrew a tattered black book. He plopped it on her desk but as she reached for it he seized her wrists. "It burns anyone with... Muggle blood... More than a third of Muggle blood..." He took out green dragon-hide gloves. "Wear these."

She pulled them on, not missing the fact that Malfoy hadn't taken his gaze off of her. She ignored him and hesitantly laid a single finger on it. It didn't burn. She caressed the black cover and then she flipped to look at its back and binding, but there wasn't a name. There wasn't even a title or marking. There was nothing to hint at what was inside.

Hermione knew that there were loads of powerful and dark books out there. She was careful and therefore she didn't open it.

Malfoy slid it from her and opened the front cover. He read from it. "'Chapter One: The uses of a Horcrux.'"

Her insides froze. There was a copy... A copy of the book Tom Riddle read to learn how to split his soul, the very book Harry burned after the war. They never thought... A copy. How could they be so foolish?

"Where did you get this, Malfoy?"

"My great uncle was the author." Perhaps it was the trick of the light but he appeared to be ashamed. "I found it in my library. There were a lot of dark wizards in there. I can't be sure that no one else has read it. Hermione, this is the first version. It only talks about the good, no warnings."

"Destroy it!"

"I can't! Don't you think I've tried? It's immune to all elements; you can't rip it apart!"

"Give it to Harry!"

"No, I'm giving it to you!"

"What do you want me to do?!"

"Use your brain, that's what I want you to do! Do something - anything! You're the genius here. Figure something out!"

She slammed her hands on her desk so hard that the bottle of ink jumped and clattered. Even if it had spilled she wouldn't have cared. She could barely see straight. "I don't think I can! It'll have every spell against Muggles! I can't even touch it with my bare skin!"

"Please, Hermione," he said with such desperate need it made her ache for him. For Malfoy of all people.

She spoke before she thought, but it was words she would never truly regret saying. "I can't promise anything."

He smiled sadly with the smallest traces of pride, but oddly it wasn't of himself, but of her, as though she did the greatest thing in the world. "I trust you."

Before she could respond to such astonishing words he picked up his briefcase and left. She didn't look after him, she stared at the book with utmost loathing. It was more disgusting than the one before it.

How could she have promised such a thing? She threw it back down. She felt sick to her stomach and checked to see that the rubbage bin was close by.

She had no idea the trouble that book would cause. It would not only turn her life around but everyone else's. All she knew, was that they were in trouble and she only feared how much trouble that could be.

There was a second fear, one that she preferred not to acknowledge, but it was there, resting like a beast beneath every other spell that was rolling through her mind. It was the fear for Malfoy. Could he be in danger? Were they all in danger? Again?