Chapter 6: Home for the holidays

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Hermione's POV

The winter holidays drew around quickly. I kept worrying about what Malfoy had said. He had known . . . but how? Ginny told me that he was most probably winding me up, but still there was something that Ginny didn't know. That night, what if he had seen me sneaking a peek at it? Every time he came near I grew pale in case he mentioned it to Harry and Ron.

"Realy, Hermione, anyone would think you have a crush on him!" Ginny whispered to me one morning as he passed us yet again.

"Fancy him?" I guaffed, "Ginny how can you say that?"

"An outsider may think that by the way you pale when he walks by is all I meant,"

"What? Like when you go as red as your hair when you see Blaise Zabini?" I smiled knowledgably. Ginny blushed.

"Hey, what's up?" Harry asked as we sat down at the table.

"Nothing much, Harry." I told him as Ginny began to put food on her plate shyly. Ron looked at her curiously, but I shook my head. Ron decided to say something else.

"Sorry you can't come to the burrow, Hermione."

"It's fine, Ron." I told him. Ginny side-glanced at me, she knew why I had declined. Harry's head shot up at the tone in my voice.

"You alright, Mione?" he asked, concerned. I nodded. "Sure?" Harry asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure, Harry." I told him. He shook his head, he knew that I wasn't.

"You know if there's anything you need to talk about, you can just tell me." yes, yes, I can tell you that my father is Voldemort, can't I Harry, I thought to myself. Ginny laughed silently as she drank some pumpkin juice. Sometimes I wonder if she's physic.

"What's so funny Ginny?" Neville asked.
"Nothing, Neville." Ginny told him offhandedly, taking a bite of her steak. Neville looked at her curiously, and I thought that maybe he could read minds too. Could everyone but myself? I took a gulp of my dinner, deep in thought. Tomorrow was the start of the winter holidays and I was going to my father's house. I was way excited about it. But Harry and Ron couldn't know that, I was supposed to be grieving my ill aunt.

"I just thought... you know... your aunt having cancer and all... you might want to talk," Harry mused, continuing our earlier conversation. I nodded.

"But not today, okay, Harry? I- I need time," Ron raised his eyebrows.

"But Mione you've had time!" I glared at him angrily. "But you have all the time in the world, of course!" he added for protection. Me, Harry, Ginny and Neville burst into laughter. "What?"

Draco's POV

The shining ruby red express pulled up at kings cross station. My father was standing proudly and I could feel his sparkly blue eyes bearing into me, he was a lion watching his prey. He was urging me to hurry up. He didn't want to be on the steamy platform for long. Why? Merlin knows. I stepped off the platform, dreading every second that I would have before I stepped on the train again.

Hermione's POV

"Riddle Manor!" I shouted and I was surrounded by a green fire, which flames darted around me like mosquitoes. Then it cleared and I found that I was in the drawing room. It was, as most of the house, filled with green. Weirdly, I was okay with this, being the heir of Slytherin.

"My daughter." I heard my father's voice. I turned around quickly. He was in Riddle form: daring black hair and gorgeous green eyes.

"Dad!" I said and ran into his open arms. He hugged me and smiled.

"Welcome home, my little girl." although it was babyish and totally out of my father's character, I snuggeled into his chest, making the most of it. When we pulled apart, he asked me how I was.

"I'm fine, dad." I told him, "although I feel a little bad for lying to Harry and Ron. They think my aunt has breast cancer."

"What's breast cancer?" my father asked me, confused.

"An infection of the breast. Most commonly on females. Muggles can die from it. It's kind of like Magical Blood Disease, but for Muggles." I informed him.

"Right." my father replied. I nodded. "Your probably tired from your journey." I smiled.

"I am," I admitted.

"I expected you to be. I'll show you to your room." I expected for him to have a house elf show me to my room, but he didn't. He actually showed it to me. We walked up to the fourth floor and at the end of the fifth corridor, we stopped. We were at a middle size redwood door. The golden key to unlock it was hanging on the brass doorknob from it's slim silver chain. My father took it from it's place and hung it around my neck.

"Easier to carry around." he said, then took from his pocket his own key. He slipped it into the lock and jiggled it. Then the door opened.

The first thing I saw was the double kingsize bed . It had green and silver sheets on it. I looked around and realised that the wood in there was solid oak, possibly my favourite of woods. I peered up and there was a silver chandelier hanging lazily from it's matching silver chain. I thought everything was green and silver but in a flash it all turned into Gryffindor-y colours: red and gold.

"Which colour would you like?" my father asked me.

"I realy don't mind. But if I had to. . . I'd chose the silver and green." I don't know what made me say it, I just felt more comfortable with green. Immediately the colours changed to what they had before and seemed to say: 'we're staying. The end'.

"Well I'll leave you to it then. Your clothes are already hung up, but the other things you had in there are still in the trunk." my father pointed to my trunk which was in the left corner of my room by a white birch door.

"What's behind the door?" I asked.

"It's your bathroom. Make yourself at home, and dinners at 9:30." my father told me. I nodded and my father made his way out. When he was gone I sighed happily and had a look at the things in my trunk. There were a couple of photos of me, Harry and Ron, and practically millions of me and Ginny. I took them out and stuck them all on the wall. I smiled to myself, and then yawned. I was tired. I lay down on the bed and was suddenly in a dream.

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