Hermione got to her feet immediately and strode away. Harry and Draco shared a bemused glance - though neither could read the thoughts of the other, Draco knew he was thinking what's she doing? He could guess that Potter's thoughts were much the same as they shrugged and followed her.

She walked right out of the library, finding an empty classroom, not that this was a challenge as the only thing left to take place that day was dinner. She turned to face the door as soon as she walked in and, after the boys had entered, aimed her wand at the door, casting something to muffle their speech.

Then, much to Draco's surprise, she shoved Harry so that he ended up pressed against the door, grasping the handle to stay upright. "I'm not helping you break school rules because you picked a fool for a friend, Harry Potter!"

"Hey, this isn't really about Ron, Hermione -"

"I don't care if the Philosopher's Stone is the thing that three-headed dog - Fluffy - is guarding, I refuse to help you find it. Not when there's a chance I could be expelled over it!"

"Are you serious? Is she actually serious?"

Draco didn't answer Harry, instead staring at the two of them. "What?"

"What d'you mean, 'what'?"

"I mean, I know you Gryffindors are insane, but why would the Philosopher's Stone, of all things, be on Hogwarts grounds? Is this some kind of twisted test, to see if I'll believe your garbage and fit into your group?"

"No. What? Don't be stupid, Malfoy, you're only here because you followed Hermione as well. I don't want your help."

"What!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted when Hermione shoved him again, the wood of her wand biting into his skin. "You don't insult him, Harry Potter, do you hear me? Not while I'm standing right beside him."

"You're always right beside him," he retorted under his breath. Hermione glared and moved to shove him again, only to be held back - Draco had grabbed her arm to pull her back, to keep her from attacking Potter again.

"Yes, and I'm always beside her. That's not the point, Potter, and you know it. What did you want to ask?"

"What it does. The Philosopher's Stone, I mean. What does the Philosopher's Stone do?"

"The usual medieval alchemical miracles." Hermione frowned at him. "Turn metal to gold, produce a liquid to ensure immortality. Why are you asking me about this, instead of Madam Pince?"

"'Hi, Madam Pince. Where can I find information about the magical stone hidden somewhere in Hogwarts? It's just that I think someone's going to try to steal it so that Voldemort can come back and destroy the world'. Yeah, that'll go over well."

"He has a point."

"Draco."

"What? He does. Telling a professor that he knows about something they're all trying to hide is more likely to get him kicked out than end in his saving the stone."

"You believe him, do you?"

"No. You-Know-Who is dead, has been for ten years. Things like that can't come back."

"People, Draco. He was a person."

The Slytherin scoffed. "He killed and ordered the death of thousands of people like -"

"Yes?"

"People who didn't agree with its - his - ideas. They tended to turn up dead, Hermione. It stopped when the war ended. You know all of this. Stop making me talk about it, alright?"

"Ron says that his dad said that your dad was one of Voldemort's supporters during the war. One of the most loyal out of every one of his followers."

"Harry!"

"No, Hermione, it's fine. Potter: I am not my father. You know nothing about my life, no matter what your pet Weasel thinks he knows. He doesn't like me, I don't like him, and I don't want him to like me or Hermione. I certainly don't want him knowing anything about my home life."

Harry looked uncomfortable with this argument. "Fine, fair enough. Now I have a problem."

"Someone's looking to steal the Stone. You already said. It's none of our business, Harry. None of yours, either."

"Right, yeah, except it is. If Voldemort comes back, it'll be every ones business, won't it? We'll all be in danger. You for being muggle-born, me for being me, and him for being,..."

"Betrothed to someone like me, just like half the other purebloods our age? That doesn't make any sense and you have to know that. Such blind hatred of anyone different is completely illogical."

"Actually, You-Know-Who was a half-blood. What? I know my history. We sent you about eight books on blood status, didn't we?"

"Is that like the 'royal' we or a sarcastic 'my family' we?"

"Sarcastic? How is that sarcastic? Mum suggested the books, and she's family. Or has that changed?"

"Can we go back to the Stone, please? How would it help Voldemort?"

"You're joking."

"Probably not," Hermione disagreed, "he genuinely doesn't know. Harry and Ron aren't exactly the sort to read, as best I can tell."

"And they're still here?"

"Malfoy. Do me a favour and answer the question."

"The elixir of life. I'm right, aren't I?" He watched Hermione nod, then smirked. "If it had a body, the elixir would keep it alive, let it gain strength."

"He's male, Draco, monster or not. But yes. In theory, he's right: drinking the elixir of life could probably return You-Know-Who to life."

"Yes, exactly!" Harry cried, beginning to pace. "It all makes sense. He tries to get past Fluffy and Fluffy bites him, so he limps - he must've released the troll as a distraction for Dumbledore and everyone else. He tries to knock me off my broom with that jinx or whatever it was. He threatens Quirrel, then he takes over in Quidditch, and of course Hagrid wants a dragon but who would know that?"

"What's he talking about now?"

"His broom started bucking in the first Quidditch match. We all thought it was some trick to get pity points, but then he almost fell off and I decided he probably wasn't."

"That was you? You set Snape on fire?"

"Not Snape, no. Quirrel's turban. His face -"

"How have you not been expelled?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

Draco coughed. "Right. Family connections - you wouldn't get expelled either."

"That's not the point!"

"Isn't it?"

Harry wasn't listening any more, still pacing. He'd made it to the front of the classroom, posters and notes over the chalkboard. It looked like one of Oliver Woods practice sessions, plans and diagrams everywhere. Plans for...something.

Plans.

"I need one of you to come with me. Or both of you."

"What? No. Come with you where?"

"Hermione, I am not helping Potter. You can't make me."

"I just said we weren't, Draco, but I can still ask."

"Beyond the trap door."

✦

"You didn't have to hex him."

"Well he shouldn't have suggested that I break the rules, should he?"

"And hexing him outside of Defence Against the Dark Arts class isn't breaking the rules?"

"I will hit you, Draco. It will be a punch. I'm sure I know enough to make it hurt at least a little, from reading all those books you sent me. And a self-defence manual grandma Jean insisted I read through at least once every six months. Thumb on the outside, or you could fracture it."

"What?"

Hermione smiled, reaching for another book and adding it to the stack in his arms. "It makes sense, trust me."

"Yeah, that's what you say." He followed her around the corner of some more shelves. "It was pretty neat, the way you flattened him with that spell."

"It was, wasn't it? Can you see A Guide to Defensive Practices?"

"I don't think you need it. What kind of hex was it? Potter certainly didn't know the counter-curse."

"I don't think Harry knows much that isn't covered in class, to be honest. It was an Entomorphis hex - you have to have read about it, it's in Spellman's Syllabary and Multi-Purpose Hexes, Jinxes and Charms. Both books you bought me. You must have read them."

"I actually haven't read all of the books you were sent. You see, I have a life."

"What's that got to do with anything when you're so obviously thinking of doing something incredibly reckless?"

"I am not."

"Harry Potter got to you, didn't he, Draco? You think that someone's going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone from within Hogwarts, even though it probably isn't here and Harry's just insane. I wouldn't be surprise, given how he's suddenly discovered he's famous after years of thinking he's nobody. It could be a cry for attention or desperation or pretty much anything. Maybe he's imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time a stressful situation caused someone to lose their mind."

"'Stressful situation'? Is that what it's called?"

"Starting at a new school, in a world you didn't know existed? It's not relaxing. And my point is, you're going to do something stupid. You're going to track him down and go with him, aren't you?"

"I'm not going to do anything to get myself into trouble."

"Draco."

"You wouldn't be guessing any of this if you weren't thinking of it, too."

"Yes, well, I'm in Gryffindor. I'm supposed to be like this, aren't I? Rebellious. Reckless."

"Difficult. Impulsive."

"And Harry's worse than me. Much more Gryffindor."

"He could get him and the Weasel killed."

"And we could keep them alive."

"It's our responsibility, really. Save the Boy Who Lived."

"So I should tell Harry that I'm sorry for the hex and ask him how to smuggle you into Gryffindor tower?"

"Only if you think I'll be any use."

"Of course you will. You can distract the guards."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"No need to be sarcastic. You really will be useful."

"Now why am I not feeling reassured?"

"Mostly because you're paranoid and crazy and Slytherin."