Authors Note: This fiction is decidedly AU. Some of the events will match up, but for the most part I'll be taking creative liberties. Also, this is my first circulated Harry Potter fan fiction, be kind. Oh, and take mind of the rating. M=Mature.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the lot of this. The characters, the places, everything. I, on the other hand, own nothing, and I make nothing as well.

Muddy

Chapter 1: The Unbreakable Vow

"Beginnings are sudden, but also insidious. They creep up on you sideways, they keep to the shadows, they lurk unrecognized. Then, later, they spring."
-Margaret Atwood

3rd year

"Oh!"

There was a flailing of arms, and toppling of books, and then; SPLAT!

Draco couldn't help it. He laughed. He laughed more fully than he thought he ever had, throwing back his head and practically shouting with glee. The laugh was loud enough in fact that across the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts a flock of silver winged birds took flight in alarm. He could care less, laughing so hard now he was holding a stich in his side.

Draco laughed because there in front of him, glaring with angry brown eyes, was Hermione Granger, sprawled on her back in the wet mud and dirt. A moment before she'd been walking ahead of him, her head down and her frizzy brown locks whipping behind her as the wind blew this way and that. He'd been watching her, wondering why she was by herself as she trudged the grounds, going the direction of the greenhouses. Where was the rest of the Golden Trio on this grey and damp winter morning? And did he dare chance throwing a snide remark her way? He'd been pondering this when- apparently not observing her step- she had lost balance on a particularly large patch of muddied earth. She'd teetered for a moment, trying desperately to gain her balance. But the stack of books she held in both her hands and inside of her pack, weighing her down considerably, made her go careening down into the mud, landing flat on her back.

So Draco laughed. He laughed so hard that, before he really knew what was happening, he'd lost his balance and had slipped in the muddy patch of earth he himself had been standing in, his laughter cut off abruptly as his legs slipped forward. Landing on his arse, Draco groaned and then glared as Hermione began to chuckle directly opposite from him.

"Sod off, Granger," he sneered, doing his best to look regal as he shook the mud caked to his pale hands.

Hermione hummed and shook her head. Carefully she began to stand, balancing herself with cautious steps. Once steady on her two feet she muttered a few unheard spells that made the ground beneath her dry instantaneously (so much so that there was now dust billowing at her feet), and with another unspoken flick of her wand her books levitated and stacked themselves, floating next to her as though they were waiting patiently for her to finish as she used her wand to vanish the mud on her robes.

"Thanks, Malfoy," She began offhandedly. "I needed a laugh."

It was then that Draco noticed, still sprawled on the ground, that her eyes were red rimmed, as though she'd been crying. He stood, pushing away his thought of why and deciding he didn't care. Before he could do so himself, Hermione dried the mud beneath his feet, decidedly less dust billowing around his legs then when she'd done the spell for herself. She looked at him, as if wanting to say something more. Draco made sure his face was as cold and hateful as ever, clearly telling her he did not want her to ask him anything.

Hermione sighed, and with a thoughtful look on her face she let the books drop gently in her awaiting hands and walked away, back towards the greenhouse, leaving Draco to think to himself how very odd that mudblood truly was.

4th year

He'd never tell anyone that he'd grabbed her hand. Not ever.

Harry had come from the triwizard tournament, amongst the screams of Gryffindor approval, as champion. He cursed, glaring at the witch he'd somehow ended up sitting next to with the limited space in the bleachers of the Quiddich pitch. She was jumping and hooting with that Ron Weasley, completely ignoring his and various other disappointed Slytherin's boos and hisses.

And then someone screamed, a real scream of horror and surprise, and without thinking Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed, finally noticing that Cedric Diggory was indeed with Harry, but he was not moving.

Cedric was quite still.

There was a moment where time stood still, screeching to a dramatic and staggering halt as the scene developed before their very eyes. And then it speed back up and confusion settled back in, thrumming a discorded staccato through the crowd.

Was Cedric… Dead? Someone was yelling that he was, a murmur rising through the stands and increasing in volume so that it became a panicked roar. Below them Dumbledore was pulling Harry away from the unmoving body of the older boy, and with a jolt of shock Draco spotted a couple racing towards the scene and knew it to be Cedric's parents.

Draco finally realized that, without thinking, he'd grabbed Hermione's hand. He looked at the joined appendages, clutching to the other in fright and mutual uncertainty. His eyes followed from her hand to her elbow, and finally rested on her face. She was looking at him, eyes wide, fear and tears in her eyes at the scene before them. And Draco knew that she saw it in his eyes as well.

He released her hand as if it were venom, eyes scanning the students that surrounded him to see if they had witnessed the exchange. But no one had, all focus being directed to the horrific scene unfolding below them. When Draco looked back to her, Hermione was turning from him without a backwards glance, grabbing that Weasleys elbow and steered him down the bleachers, running full out, her hair flying behind her as she made her way to the figures below.

Draco grimaced.

Hermione found Draco wandering the halls late that night, slipping from the hospital wing and using Harry's map to locate him. She didn't know why she'd thought to look for him. She certainly didn't assume to think that she knew he'd been wandering the vast halls of the school, but just now she was working on impulse- which was not her usual mode of operation. She found him in an abandoned room close to the astronomy tower, covered in the darkness of the clouded night, pacing and muttering. She hid in the shadows for a few moments, watching him run a hand countless times through his platinum hair before she made herself known.

"… Malfoy?"

Draco jerked his head in her direction, surprise quickly vanquished and replaced with a sneer.

"What do you want, mudblood," he spat, leaning his hip on the cool stone wall and crossing his arms. She thought he looked livid, though she couldn't quite tell with the lack of torchlight. It was then that the moon made an appearance through one of the many windows, and Hermione saw his face clearly. His eyes were red rimmed.

Ignoring this revelation, Hermione stepped closer, closing the door behind her.

"Malfoy… Are you alright?" Hermione's voice was hesitant, trembling even. Draco scowled.

"Why wouldn't I be? What's it to me, if some silly Hufflepuff goes and gets himself murdered? Diggory was a git, I'm better off not having to see his bloody face." Then, as if deciding he needed to put in more of a show of malevolence, he added, " …Too bad it wasn't Potter."

Hermione winced at his harsh words, but still she kept on. This was important. Something inside her seemed to scream that this was important. She just knew it was. She felt it in her bones, felt it roaring in her ears.

"Malfoy… no one needs to know, if you want to talk to me. I won't tell anyone."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Talk to you?" He bit out in anger. "Why the bloody hell would I want to do that? Do you think, Granger, that I need a shoulder to cry on? From a mudblood no less! Talk to you, for Merlin's sake, I'd rather not look at you."

There was silence stretching between them, Draco glaring and Hermione fidgeting.

"… Besides," Draco added after a bit, "You'd run and tell Potter and that Weasel as soon as you got the chance."

Draco thought that, even to his own ears, it sounded like he was trying to set her up to disagree. To deny the feeble allegation he'd just laid at her feet. Like he needed her to fight to make him give in, to at least give the illusion that he'd initially resisted her offer.

Because the truth was that he wanted to talk, to someone, anyone. And she was the only person he knew who might understand.

As if reading his silent plea, Hermione quickly protested. "Not at all! I'd never reveal anything… I swear."

Draco looked at her, wanting so badly to confide, amazed by the feeling of it. He'd never wanted to talk to anyone before about personal things. But now, when so much was happening…

"How do I know Potter didn't send you to spy?" He asked.

"He wouldn't do that. I wouldn't do that," she replied, moving a step closer to him.

"Weasley would," he said cuttingly, balling his fists.

"I swear to you, Malfoy, I wouldn't repeat a word you tell me."

The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional groaning of pipes, or the whistling of the wind outside. It went on for so long that Hermione opened her mouth to try again, feeling that perhaps he was remaining quiet to be irksome (if so, it was working). Draco began to speak, however.

"An Unbreakable Vow, you have to make one," he said, his voice so quiet that the words would have been lost if not for the complete silence that permeated the room. The words in themselves were an admission that he indeed wanted to speak plainly to her, inhibited by distrust and social restrictions.

Hermione gave a sharp intake of breath. She knew what an Unbreakable Vow was. To condescend it, to break it, was instantaneous death. There was a deafening silence as she mulled it over, trying to wipe her face into an unreadable mask. He needed her, she knew. Floors below them Harry lay, surrounded by friends and people close enough to be family. He would always have a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to. … A hand to hold. Draco Malfoy had none of these things. He could not confide if he was upset by Cedric's death (as she suspected he was) to another Slytherin. He could not vent to his Death Eater father. He could not betray his house or his family with an outside friendship or bond.

He was alone.

Just when Draco though that now would be a good time to take his leave (she'd been silent so long that he felt the need to flee) Hermione said, with no hesitance, "Who shall bond us? We need a third."

Draco stood rooted to the stop, staring at her with brows raised high in shock. He overcame the feeling quickly though, determined to not let Granger see anything but cold indifference on his face.

"My old house elf," Draco supplied, his voice quiet and indecipherable. "He will be bound by the duties of a house elf, no matter how free he is, to keep his mouth shut. Also… he's seen it done before."

Hermione nodded, twirling a curl of hair between her fingers in a nervous sort of way. "All right," she finally conceded, then she called out, uncertainly, "Dobby?"

There was a loud crack as the house elf appeared. When he noticed Draco, he cowered.

After a few more minutes assuring Dobby that she was indeed there of her own accord, Hermione explained what she wanted the house elf to do.

"Please, Dobby, I know you are a free elf, but please do this as a favor to me. You can't… tell anyone. Not even Harry."

Dobby was indignant.

"Dobby is not liking this, Miss," he exclaimed. "Master Malfoy is a bad wizard, you is not to be trusting him!"

It took much more pleading, and some thinly veiled threats on Draco's part, to get Dobby to reluctantly agree.

"Dobby is doing this," he said, taking the wand Hermione offered him with hesitancy, "but Dobby is not liking it."

They each told him the Vows they wanted him to perform, Hermione adding her own to Draco's (though Draco scowled at her for doing so). And then the Vow began.

They clasped arms, kneeling so Dobby could perform the needed magic at his own height.

"Will you, Hermione Granger, swears to be keeping Draco Malfoy's secrets and tell no one of them, unless given express permission by him alone to reveal them?"

Hermione's heart raced and she felt her body tremble.

"I will."

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, keep Hermione Grangers secrets, and tell no one they has been given to you."

Draco sneered, "I will."

Dobby breathed in sharply, "And do you both," he continued, "Swear to keep any meetings and conversations a secret, unless mutually agreeing to…" he paused, thinking of the word Hermione had used. She mouthed it to him. "Divulge the information," Dobby finished.

In unison, after a long and disparaging look, they both said, "I will."

The fire that licked up their hands and wrists, sealing the Vow, did not burn. It was a bright and luminescent white, tinged with green and gold hues. Hermione gasped as she felt the spell settle into her very bones, and she watched as Draco gave an almost pained expression, as if the feeling had hurt him.

Dobby vanished after that, saying nothing, but giving Hermione back her wand and supplying her with a look what was clearly disappointed and regretful. Draco stood, striding away from her to stand at his place by the window. Hermione stood as well, but she did not go to him. Instead, she waited.

"I hate you," Draco said quietly, not looking at her.

Hermione nodded. "I know."

Then he slid to the floor, resting his head between his knees.

"I don't want anyone to die," he said softly, sounding as though the weight of saying it may cause the death of him. There was a brief silence before he continued.

"I don't… I don't want anyone to die. And I didn't hate Cedric."

5th year

They hadn't spoken.

Hermione had thought, after that night months ago, Draco might want to talk to her more. But he had only said those hopeless and pitiful words before standing and walking out of the room, looking very angry with himself. Since then he'd been his normal, insufferable self, if not even more intolerable than usual.

Sighing and only half listening to what Ron was telling her and Harry, (something about Quidditch), Hermione picked at her bacon and toast and wondered for what seemed like the millionth time what the point of an Unbreakable Vow was if Draco wasn't even going to speak to her. The git.

As if summoned by the thought, Hermione looked up, only to see Draco staring at her from his place at the Slytherin table. Their eyes locked, and in the short moment Hermione thought she saw a subtle but meaningful look etched in Malfoy's face, before he looked away, focusing all his attention on his plate of eggs.

Try as she might, Hermione could not attract his gaze a second time. Even when they'd ended up standing shoulder to shoulder on the way out of the Great Hall he'd ignored her, his head held high, his nose turned up. Next to him Hermione huffed in exasperation and drew back, her pace slowing as she watched him disappear in the crowd.

There was nothing for it. She'd have to wait until tonight and go to the room near the astronomy tower, hoping that was what Malfoy's silent message had meant.

Draco entered the room well after midnight, startling Hermione- who'd been sleeping with her head down on a charred desk for hours.

"I know it's late. I got held up," he explained. "Filch was… prowling."

Hermione nodded, rubbing her eyes. The silence stretched as she waited for Draco to speak. Finally he made his way farther into the classroom, taking a seat at the desk next to her.

"…He's a Death Eater."

Hermione concealed her pity at his revealing of his father's nefarious double life. "I know," she replied.

More silence.

"…I've…. I've seen the Dark Lord. I've met him."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh?"

Draco shot her a disgusted look. "He's… he's not what I thought. Father always talked about him so… reverently. Like he was a God. … He's… broken. He's…"

Draco paused and looked at her, thinking hard about the word he was about to utter.

"He's cruel," he finished, looking defeated.

Hermione nodded. "He is. And he's a half-blood as well. All that talk of cleansing, and he doesn't even meet the qualifications."

Draco looked scandalized. "Half-blood?" Then he glared. "Are you telling me this to make me think more highly of your tainted blood?" he shot as her.

Hermione raised her head, set her jaw. "No. I'm just telling you what I know, Malfoy."

Draco grimaced but did not respond, inwardly trying to decide whether or not to believe this information. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"Tom Riddle," she provided. "His name… You can look it up if you'd like, though I don't think it will reveal much. His original title is in the Hogwarts records, he was a student in the forties."

Draco sighed, knowing there wasn't really any reason for her to lie, and laid his head on the desk he occupied. "I feel like… Like I'm being pulled in different directions," he said, his voice muffled. "Like father wants me to go one way, and I… I want to go another. … I hate Harry for having a choice."

Hermione let her face contort with the pity and shock she felt ravaging it for only a moment, before hiding it so he would not see. She thought about her experiences so far in 5th year, wanting to share as well ask questions. Finally she asked, hesitantly, "That awful Umbridge woman… why are you helping her?"

Draco raised his head, "because I hate Harry. … And because my Father said to keep on her good side. She's an important pure blooded official, as he'd say."

He looked miserable, though he didn't act it during the time she'd seen him. Normally, in his Slytherin element, he seemed to revel and thrive in his unpleasant and almost sadistic behavior. What would Harry say, if he could witness this more vulnerable side?

Probably that he's trying to trick you. That he's going to turn you over to his Father like a bloody holiday gift, She thought.

And then Hermione thought of the Vow. He could do no such thing without risking death.

"I'm awful," Draco suddenly said, looking at her with sad, albeit accusatory eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

Hermione swallowed. She'd been wondering the same thing herself.

"I don't really know. I don't… I don't think you want to be awful, Malfoy. And… I think you need a friend."

Draco scoffed. "You are not my friend," he bit out through clenched teeth.

Hermione nodded. "Certainly not. … But you can talk to me. And that's something."

Malfoy didn't concede, but he didn't disagree either. He stared into the middle distance, not really seeing anything as his mind became a jumble of confused and disjointed thoughts.

Finally he said, "Granger. … I don't want to be a Death Eater."

Hermione's smile was grim. "I don't want to die by a Death Eater," she replied, and Draco found that this was indeed something he hadn't truly considered. His father, with all his harping and preaching of blood lines, would kill Hermione Granger in a heartbeat, if given the chance.

So his echoed words from their first meeting seemed appropriate, even if he did think she was a bloody chit.

"I don't want anyone to die."

Authors Note: Lets take this show on the road, shall we? Buckle up.

Reviews are cherished. :)