Dramione

5* The Vanishing Cabinet

"Well that was rather exciting." Hermione said breathlessly. "Honestly I'm so relieved that I finally have someone to talk to about everything. Harry keeps hinting that I like Ron, but he just doesn't know--"

Draco's face became suspicious. "You like Ron? That twit?"

"You know I don't." She said with a sigh. "But I am jealous of him sometimes. The way he and Lavender can hold hands in classes, and talk in the corridors." Hermione blushed, remembering other things she had witnessed between the couple in the common room. "Sometimes I wish this didn't have to be a secret."

Draco felt the knife in his heart twist with guilt. "I know. I'm sorry." He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione breathed in his scent, memorizing it. "It's alright. I do understand. It's just harder when one of your best friends has it so much better."

Draco laughed. "You think what they have is better than this?" He kissed her, and felt her smile beneath his own. "What they have will hardly survive the year if it does. This is so much stronger and better than that PDA loving relationship."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, you're right. This is better."

And that's why it will hurt so much more when it ends. Draco thought.

Hermione rambled on about her load of homework, the essays and the worksheets she had to do. Draco nodded and gave his condolences. After she left to begin the work, Draco snuck out from behind the tapestry and made his way to the seventh floor. After passing the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, a doorway appeared on an otherwise blank wall. Draco disappeared inside and the door became part of the wall again.

The room smelled of mothballs, like a closet. In every corner there were bookcases laden with discarded and hidden things. A few had fallen and were scattered across the floor. Draco kicked aside two stray sherry bottles, which clinked against the leg of an old dusty chair with an eagles head carved into the back. He strode with confidence to the back of the room, and tore down a long gray sheet. A tall black cabinet stood near the back wall. The door was trimmed with gold, as were the clawed feet on the ground. It had been scratched in a few places, having been dropped a year ago. On the left side, just above the feet there was a long crack. Although Draco had sealed it, a scar remained. He knelt down in front of the cabinet, touching the tip of his wand to the door. "Harmonia nectere passus." A bright golden light spilled from the tip and snaked around the cabinet once. Draco whispered the incantations again, sending the next stream along the bottom of the cabinet horizontally. Again and again, he sent the long golden strands sliding along the cabinet.

Exhausted from his intense use of magic, Draco threw the sheet over the cabinet again, and made the long trek from the seventh floor hallway to his dormitory in the dungeons. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Too early the next morning, he woke. He cast a gentle light while rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and collected his quill and parchment from the table beside his bed. In the common room, he scared a young witch from a desk with a glance and set to work on his own homework while she scurried away. The only class he could afford to skip the homework in was potions, because Profesor Snape had informed him of his knowledge of his task, and had promised to give him full credit on every assignment. With a frustrated groan, he flipped his potions textbook open. Draco Malfoy was not one to shirk his responsibilities, even in the face of the wrath of the Dark Lord. By the time his first class was to start, Draco had finished all but one subject, which he planned to complete while eating lunch in the Great Hall. Satisfied with his work, he rolled up his parchments and stored his quill. He met with Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini while preparing to go up to breakfast.

The Great Hall was crowded with students, as usual. Draco and his friends went to their regular seats. Draco had a perfect view of the Gryffindor table, and easily watched the bushy brown hair while it whipped around Hermione's slender shoulders. He was sure she was arguing with Potter. They had been arguing often recently. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting to ask her about it last night. He scowled into his eggs, knowing he would have to wait to ask her when they were alone next. He had no idea when that would be. He never knew anymore. They had an easier time last year, going on trips to Hogsmeade...