Hidden Information

A/N: I believe I cursed myself by telling someone that I was lucky enough to rarely get writers block. Not ten minutes after saying that, I was suddenly struck with a terrible case of writer's block! Of course!

Anyway, it passed so it's no big deal, but I apologize for being a little late with this update.

Once again, thanks for the reviews!

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“So?” Hermione asked, sitting neatly on the edge of her bed.

Harry cast a silencing charm on the room after locking her door. Ron was currently gaping at the luxuriousness of everything in her room.

Harry turned from the door, and he had that familiar glint in his eyes. The glint when he already had a plan of action in mind. Of course, those plans were usually highly flawed if Hermione was not involved in the creation of it, so she was now ready to hear out everything they had to tell her. She wasn’t about to let him go through with some half-brained scheme without her say in the matter.

“Come on, let’s all sit over here,” Harry said, nodding towards the couch and chairs around the fireplace.

Hermione crossed the room and took a seat. Ron was already there, having noticed the plush pillows and thick cushions of the sofa. Harry then sat on the edge of one chair, ready to talk.

“We needed to talk to you about Lucius Malfoy,” Harry started off.

“Lucius Malfoy?”

“Yes. Now, remember how Snape had mentioned in August that his appearances at Death Eater meetings had been dwindling?”

Hermione nodded.

“Well...”

“Apparently, it’s been continuing to do so,” Ron finished.

She hesitated for a moment to see if they were going to continue, but they didn’t. “Is that all?” She chuckled at their overreaction. “On the walk to my rooms, you two seemed so anxious that I would have thought you were about to say that Voldemort has been taking Polyjuice Potion to look like Lavender Brown, and then spending his evenings snogging every Gryffindor boy he could find.”

Ron snickered at her remark, but Harry had more to add. “No, Hermione. There’s more. Apparently, Voldemort’s been explaining his absence with talks of a very important task.”

“Something that could help their side greatly,” Ron added.

“Dumbledore seemed really upset by the news.”

“How did you find all this out?” Hermione asked them.

“I... er... well, I accidentally overhead Snape telling Dumbledore,” Harry answered honestly.

“You mean ‘accidentally’ while you just happened to be wearing your invisibility cloak?” Hermione asked. She sounded disapproving, but the small smirk on her face gave her away.

“Well, yeah.” Harry shrugged.

“Honestly, you two,” Hermione said. “If Dumbledore knows about it, then it’s obviously under control. You don’t need to be snooping around and trying to find ways to get involved. Harry, you already play a big enough part in the war, you don’t need to be any more involved.”

Ron stood up. “Ah, but you see, Hermione, we’ve already got a plan.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Ron, you sound more like Fred and George everyday,” she said, laughing a little.

But Ron continued, “Dumbledore would never think to do what we’ve got planned.”

“Exactly! Because it’s probably some dumb idea that will get us all into trouble.”

“Come on, Hermione!” Ron whined.

“Alright, tell me what you two are scheming.”

“Well, we were thinking you could spy on Malfoy. Maybe intercept some of his owls, break into his room, look through some of his stuff. Lucius must have written to him and told him about something,” Harry explained.

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Well, first of all, I—” but Hermione’s words broke off. She could tell her friends about Narcissa and Dumbledore’s reasons for trusting Draco. Not yet. “He receives his owls in the Great Hall just like everyone else, and he locks his bedroom door.”

Ron waved his wand around idiotically. “So do a little ‘allow-hammer-uh’!”

“It’s alohomora, Ronald.”

“Come on, Hermione! It can’t be that hard to get in there and snoop around a bit.”

“No,” Hermione said adamantly.

Ron paused for a moment and looked at Harry. “Well, I guess we’re going to have to Polyjuice ourselves into Crabbe and Goyle again.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I am definitely not looking forward to that.”

Don’t these two ever give up? Hermione thought to herself. “Okay, okay. Just... let me think about it,” she lied. She didn’t want them prying into Draco’s business, especially when she knew they weren’t going to get any information, and she didn’t need them attempting to Polyjuice other students on their own and getting into trouble.

“Okay,” Harry agreed. Ron was beaming.

“Alright, you two, I’ve got rounds to do. So if you don’t mind...”

They both stood up. “No problem, Hermione. We’ll talk more over breakfast tomorrow,” Harry said.

While lying in bed, Hermione thought about what they had said. If Lucius is busy working on something for Voldemort, I bet he’d be too preoccupied to ever notice that his son broke a blood binding...

*****

“Bloody prats,” Draco muttered.

“Well, what do you expect? They don’t know the truth yet,” Hermione reminded him.

He scoffed and looked away. He knew she was right; they had every right to be suspicious. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit that, he thought.

“So,” she ventured cautiously, “do you know where he is or maybe what he’s doing?”

“Don’t you think if I did I would have told Dumbledore already?” he snapped at her. He hadn’t meant to, but he was already so frustrated. He had been trying to find clues in his father’s letters and racking his brain for what he could possibly be doing.

Draco stood up and began to trudge toward his bedroom.

“Wha—”

“I’ll be right back.”

For a moment, Hermione worried that he was angry with her, but his voice now sounded much calmer. He walked slowly back into the common room looking over a piece of parchment he had in his hands.

“Here,” he said, handing the piece of parchment to Hermione. “I just received it this morning. I haven’t gotten a chance to take it to Dumbledore yet.”

She began to read it aloud, “‘Draco, I apologize for my lack of response to your owls. As you know, I am currently away on business, and my tasks are rather tedious. I do hope you are showing that dreadful Mudblood her place. Lucius Malfoy.’”

Draco scoffed at the formal tone his father had used. He acted as if he was writing a letter to the Minister of Magic instead of his own son.

“‘Post script,” Hermione continued. “I am truly sorry for not sending freshly ironed underwear with this owl. I do hope you have enough to last the rest of the week.’”

“It doesn’t say that!” Draco snatched the letter away from her and quickly looked over it.

He looked up to find her smirking at him. “Ha-ha,” he said in an annoyed tone, but a small grin was forming on his face.

“So, he never mentions where he is?” she asked, bringing back her serious tone.

“No, he only ever says that he’s ‘away on business.’ All of his owls are as vague and pointless as this one.”

“How are you able to send him owls without knowledge of where he is?”

“I send them to Crabbe’s father in London, and he sends them on.”

“Why use Crabbe? Why can’t Professor Snape just forward the letters for you?”

“Professor Snape does not know where my father is.”

“Voldemort’s hiding information from him? That’s not a good sign, Draco.”

*****

Father,

Things still havent changed. Draco is still acting wierd and Goyle and me are starting to wander where his loyulties are. He is never arownd us any more and all public humileation of that aweful mudblood and the dam Potter and Weasle have stoped. Maybe you shoud mention some thing to Mister Malfoy.

From,

Vincent

TBC