20. The Coming Storm

Author's Note: Bwahaha! I'm getting faster with my updates, aren't I? I do believe the fan fiction fairy has been visiting me in my sleep. :) Anyway...kind of a short chapter, BUT - short chapters quicker updates. Am I right? Of course I am. THANK YOU once again to everyone who read and/or reviewed. You're probably sick of me thanking you all at the beginning of every chapter, but honestly - I can't thank you all enough.

Disclaimer: While all of the names, characters, and places belong to JK Rowling...um...other-world Hermione belongs to me! Heh. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing...

Hermione sat down at the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know," she sobbed.

Draco groaned. "You know, Granger, I'm getting a little sick and tired of hearing you say 'I don't know', because I think you do know. You just don't want to tell me."

Her hands fell away from her face and she stared up at him with glazed eyes. She looked pale, weak, and very upset. For a brief moment, Draco wanted to reach out and provide any sort of comfort – a gentle pat on the shoulder, or even a hug – but his desire to know what the hell was going on prevented him from doing so.

"I probably violated some law in my world by leaving it," she said. "The spell I used was a powerful one."

"Okay," Draco said. "That makes a little bit of sense. But why would they send Dementors after you? And how did they even find you?"

Hermione's face dissolved into a sudden look of panic. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Oh gods," she muttered. She stood up and began pacing the floor. "They must have found out who helped me!"

"Someone helped you?"

"He's probably in trouble for helping me!" she cried. "What if -" She gasped. "What if they gave him The Kiss? What if -"

She didn't finish her sentence. She just knelt down on the floor and began sobbing.

"Granger, calm down -"

"I need to go back!" she cried.

"Go back where?"

"Back to my world!" she said frantically.

"How would you?" Draco asked. "You told us that you have no way of getting back to your world. And what would you even do when you got there? There are probably more Dementors waiting for you there -"

"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…" Hermione stood up and glanced around the room furiously. "What can I do? There's got to be something I can do. This can't be happening, it can't be-"

"Granger," Draco said firmly. He grabbed both of her shoulders and held her out at arm's length. He stared into her eyes, which were wide and full of fear, and which refused to stare back. "Get a hold of yourself, okay? You need to calm down, so that we can go tell Dumbledore about this -"

"No!" she said, wriggling out of his grasp. "No, we're not going to get anyone else involved in this."

"The hell we aren't, Granger. A Dementor just came through a portal and tried to kiss you. There will probably be more, if we don't do something to try and stop them. Dumbledore will be able to help us."

Hermione shook her head. "Please – no."

"Granger, either I go to Dumbledore about this right now, or you tell me what the hell is going on with you. The choice is yours."

She glanced up at him. "Can we just pretend like this never happened instead?"

Draco stared at her in disbelief. What was wrong with this girl? If a Dementor had attacked him, he would have wanted to do everything to ensure that it didn't happen again. So why was Hermione so afraid of doing just that?

He should have tried to convince her to get Dumbledore involved. He should have gone to get Dumbledore himself. But he did neither. Suddenly, he no longer felt like helping her, because it was becoming more and more apparent that she didn't want to be helped.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine, if you're not going to worry about this, then neither am I." And with that, he turned around and stormed out of her bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

He never thought it would be possible, but this girl actually managed to be even more infuriating than the real Hermione Granger. And if she wasn't careful, her pigheadedness would be the death of her.

Having no desire to go back to bed, Draco instead retreated to the common room. He half-expected Hermione to follow him and proceed to unload all of her secrets on him in an act of desperation – but she did no such thing.

Which was just as well. He didn't want her around for what he was about to do.

Grabbing his quill and a piece of parchment from the table, he sat down on the couch and began to write:

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower as soon as you get this. There is something important we need to discuss. Come alone.

In the morning, he would have his owl deliver the note to Harry during breakfast. He wasn't exactly sure if it was a good idea, getting Harry involved. He knew he should have just gone straight to Dumbledore, but perhaps now was not the right time. Harry was the only other person who hadn't welcomed Hermione with open arms, so he couldn't help but think of him as somewhat of an ally – as much as he hated to admit it.

He folded up the piece of parchment and tucked it into the pocket of his robes, which were draped over the side of the couch.

Then, with a defeated sigh, he found himself back at Hermione's bedroom door. He did not knock first. He did not tell her he was coming in. He simply opened the door and entered the room. She was still in the same spot she had been when he'd left – sitting on the edge of her bed, her face streaked with tears, looking miserable. When she heard him come in, she glanced up at him, but she did not say a word.

"I'm sleeping in here tonight," he said simply, taking a seat in the small armchair that sat in the corner in the room.

She nodded. She understood – perhaps even more than he did. Because while he was frustrated with her, he certainly wasn't going to let anything happen to her. And if she wouldn't let him go to Dumbledore for protection, he would provide it himself.

Despite the lack of comfort of the chair, he did manage to fall asleep again that night. Hermione never woke him up with a call for help, so he managed to sleep uninterrupted through the rest of the night.

And he did not dream.

He did not realize that Harry had arrived until he heard him clear his throat. Draco spun around to see the raven-haired boy standing there, stone-faced, holding up a piece of parchment.

"I got your note," he said. "Did you find something out?"

Draco turned back around and glanced out the window once more. Despite the bright sun rays and the blue sky, he could see dark clouds looming in the far distance, as if a storm was soon approaching.

"Listen, Potter," he said, glancing over his shoulder at him. "I don't know why I asked you to come here – you of all people – but I did. And now that you're here, I need you to make me a promise. I need you to swear to me that everything that is said between us stays between us. You got that? That means you don't tell the Weasleys, you don't tell Dumbledore – you tell no one."

"I swear," Harry said, without a moment's hesitation. He held out his hand.

Draco took his hand and firmly shook it. He wondered briefly if he should be putting his trust into Harry Potter. But then he had to admit to himself that despite the fact he hated Harry Potter with every fiber of his being, he was probably the one person in this world that he would trust with his life. That is, if Harry actually gave a damn about Draco's life.

"So?" Harry said anxiously. "What did you find out?"

Draco took a deep breath before responding. "She's not telling me anything."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "That's why you wanted to see me? To tell me you know nothing?"

Draco scowled. "Of course not, Potter. Something happened last night. Something I can't explain – and something I think she can. But she refuses to."

That peaked Harry's interest. "Oh really? What happened?"

"She was attacked," Draco replied, "by a Dementor. In her own bedroom."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!"

Draco shook his head. "Her cry for help woke me up. I got there just in time, before it could give her the Kiss. But that isn't even the strangest part. The Dementor had come from her world. Through some sort of portal."

"Wow," Harry breathed. "And she couldn't explain why?"

"She said something about how she must have broken some law in her world that prohibits leaving it."

"And you bought that explanation?"

"Not really," Draco said.

"I knew it," Harry mumbled. "I knew there was something strange about her."

Draco folded his arms and said, "And why exactly is that, Potter? Why have you been the only one out of your little group to not welcome her with open arms?"

"I don't think you need to ask that," Harry mumbled. "My reason is the exact same as yours."

"Because she's not our Hermione Granger."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But that's not the only reason. I've just sensed that there is something off about her since the minute I saw her. I mean, who leaves their world, just because someone is after them? I'm sure there were plenty of ways to protect her in her own world, without having to ship her off to a whole other dimension. So why would she take such desperate measures? It doesn't make any sense."

Draco shrugged. "Well, Potter, we don't know the whole story, obviously, so who knows what kind of previous precautions she took before coming here? For all we know, she might have exhausted all possible ways to protect herself. Maybe the people who are after her are not only dangerous, but powerful as well – powerful enough to break any sort of protection spell. The fact is, Potter, we're never going to find out the whole story until she decides to tell us. And that might never happen."

"Or, it might happen sooner than you think," Harry said, a grin forming on his face.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"There is a simple way to get the information that we need, Malfoy – and it's due next Friday."

Draco's face fell. "Wait a second, Potter, you don't mean-"

"Our Potions project," Harry said with a nod. "I took it upon myself to start making it last night, figuring if I waited for you to talk to Hermione first, we might never get it done."

"You're not serious…are you?"

"You have no idea just how serious I am."

Draco shook his head. "Potter, do I have to remind you of what happened the last time somebody made her drink a homemade truth potion? She almost died."

"Oh, don't worry," Harry said. "I fully intend to test it on myself first. After all, I'll want to know it's working properly."

"Are you daft?" Draco stared at the boy in front of him, and all he could see was unbridled determination. Of course he would try something stupid like that – desperate times called for desperate measures. "We can't just use Veritaserum as we please. We could get into some serious trouble -"

Harry glanced at him sideways. "Since when has Draco Malfoy ever worried about getting into trouble?"

He had a good point there. Of course Draco didn't really care whether or not he got into trouble – he just didn't think it would be right to essentially drug an innocent girl to get information out of her – that is, if she even had any information to give.

"Potter, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps there is nothing else for Granger to tell us? That perhaps everything she has told us is the truth?"

"Hey, you're the one who invited me here because of what you witnessed last night, with the Dementor. You suspect she's not being honest with everyone as well. So what's your problem?"

"I just don't think it would be fair to her." It sounded foolish even to him as he said it. Why was he even thinking of what was fair to her, when she had been the one to arrive in their world and turn their lives upside down – with no warning or authorization?

Groaning, he said, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Harry smirked. "I'm going to need your help."

"No way, Potter. I'm not going to help you do anything."

"You have to," Harry said. "I can't do this alone. You've seen the way she is around me. She's fine around you – and she won't suspect anything when she receives a drink from you. A drink that will be laced with Veritaserum."

"Okay," Draco said slowly. "So after we do this, and after we find out the truth – which probably is nothing earth-shattering anyway – will you finally give in and just accept her?"

Harry's smirk faded. In a stiff voice he said, "I will never accept her."

Draco did not need to ask why – because he already knew the answer himself. "Because she's not her."

Harry nodded and looked away. "She can look like Hermione all she wants. She can walk like her, talk like her, but she will never be her."

"Nobody can replace Hermione Granger," Draco muttered. "Not even herself." He smiled slightly at the absurdity of that statement.

Harry glanced over at him with narrowed eyes. A half-smile began to form at the edge of his mouth. "Draco Malfoy and I actually agree on something. Who ever thought that would happen?"

"And who ever thought that what we agreed on would be our feelings for Hermione Granger?"

Both of their smiles vanished instantly. Harry became stone-faced, and Draco immediately regretted speaking the words. Luckily, Harry chose to ignore them.

"Four days from now," he said, turning around and heading towards the tower's exit, "the potion will be ready." He turned back around to face Draco. "Just make sure you are."

Draco did not respond. He watched Harry leave, and when he was gone, he turned back around to stare out the window.

Four days. Only four days, and then they would have the truth they had been looking for. But did it really even matter? What would come of it? Would they think any different of her? Maybe some things were best left unsaid. Maybe they'd be better off not knowing anything about her past in another world.

Draco sighed. The view outside the window was not so beautiful anymore. The sun had gotten behind some clouds, causing the world outside to turn a dismal gray. The dark, luminous clouds that had been so far in the distance just minutes before, were now quickly making their way toward the castle.

There was no doubt about it: a storm was on the way.