Summer Snow

Secrets will be Revealed


That's what Hermione was at first.

Frozen, as the warm pair of lips rested on hers. She tried to move, but it was as if she had forgotten how to. She wanted to squirm, to push him away and slap him, berate him for his brashness and impulsiveness, and utter foolishness to be honest. But she couldn't.

Instead, she kissed him back.

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached her hand up and touched his cold cheek with the tips of her fingers, as if such an act could scorch her hand, she touched him with so much caution, so much tenderness.

And suddenly, the lips were gone, and Hermione's were cold again.

After what seemed like centuries of her sitting there, catching her breath, she finally opened her eyes.

But there was no one there.

It was as if she had been kissed by a ghost, for there was no trace of any person ever being in front of her. Not even the sound of footsteps, which caused her to look down only to notice the carpeted floor. That made sense.

She reached her hand up and touched her lips, she could still remember vividly the texture, the shape, the warmth of his lips, how gently they caressed hers, how softly they moved against hers.

She had no idea what had just happened, or why it happened or how it happened, but she knew one thing for sure.

Draco Malfoy was an excellent kisser.


"Where do you reckon we should start?"

Draco was currently pacing up and down the living room in front of the first, while Hermione sat on the couch and watched him. It was making her highly uncomfortable and just even more anxious, but she didn't want to say anything and start a fight.

"I don't know. I really don't." Hermione replied with an exasperated sigh, rubbing her temples.

There was silence, and Hermione could sense Draco had stopped pacing, so she looked up to find him smirking in amusement at her.

"Well well, it appears the know-it-all doesn't know something."

Hermione glared at him, "I never admitted to knowing everything."

"Oh how humble of you." Draco sardonically replied before resuming his pacing.

"The first coin was in China, that means the second and third could be anywhere in this world!"

"Gee, thanks for the obvious Granger."

"Oh shut up!"

The two of them fell into silence as they wracked their brains to find some way to track down the second coin.

"Hang on," Draco murmured as it appeared an idea dawned upon him.


He made a bee line to the book shelf, where he was carefully scanning the row of book spines.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

"What part of hang on do you not comprehend?!"

Hermione huffed and folded her arms, and within a few moment Draco reappeared in front of her, a dusty old book in his hands.

"This is a book of magical possessions, a gift to my mother when she turned 40."

"You think the coin might be in it?" Hermione asked, biting her lip in doubt.

"There's no harm in looking for it in here."

He sat down beside her on the couch, their arms touching, and Draco began to flip through the pages skilfully.

Hermione tried her best not to squirm in their proximity. It was a normal thing to sit beside a boy like this, it was not like she was sitting in his lap or anything.

Yet, she felt highly uncomfortable and self-conscious, especially when she could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, look closely at his aristocratic features, the perfect shape of his nose, his long blonde eyelashes, those soft lips she could still feel on her own…

At first Hermione was confused as to how Draco was acting, as if the kiss had never even happened and everything was normal. Then she realised Draco did not want the kiss to be real, and he wanted to pretend it did never happen.

Which was fine, it was a brash mistake that should have never happened...right?

So then, why was Hermione feeling hurt by his actions?

As she looked at his lips, she realised, she kind of did want that kiss to happen, and she wanted it to happen again...

"Stop admiring me and help me look through these pages Granger."

Hermione was startled at being caught, but she couldn't let Draco have that pleasure "Oh please, don't flatter yourself."

She peered into the book, recognising many of the drawings from her own studies. Finally, Draco reached the end, and there was no sign of the coin in the book at all.

"Thought as much," He muttered, sighing as he leaned backwards.

Hermione took the book from Malfoy, examining the back where the picture of the author was, and the description of the book. The author looked young, rather dashing in fact, and he was bearing this huge grin. He didn't look arrogant, but he did look proud.

"Hang on," She quipped up, "It says, the list of items in this book is not exhaustive. If you would like to know more about other items, you can always pay me a visit, and I would be more than happy to educate you if you have the passion and interest."

Draco sat up, cracking into a smile, "That's brilliant, we can go and see him, perhaps he does know about the coin!"

Hermione beamed and nodded, continuing to read.

"Well, where does he stay?"

She glanced to the bottom of the book, and the beam got even bigger.

"Right here, in Switzerland!"

Draco jumped up, grabbing his coat, "Well then, come on!"



The house was not that big or grand, but it was definitely magnificent-looking. It had this posh, elegant look to it despite being simple. Marble, no doubt, from top to bottom, and a little garden in the front which made Hermione smile.

The 2 partners walked up to the porch and Hermione rang the doorbell.

"This looks like a very Muggle house." Draco commented as they waited, admiring the sophisticated architecture of the house.

"Why Malfoy, is that a smile? Are you…impressed by something Muggle?" Hermione teased, noticing how Draco was so intrigued by the beauty of the house.

Immediately, the smile disappeared and a scowl took its place, and Hermione felt disappointed.

Finally, the door opened, and in front of Hermione and Draco stood a young lady. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with her high ponytail of golden hair and soft features.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. I'm…Penelope Clearwater and this is my friend, Gregory Goyle."

Draco's eyes widened and he seemed rather confused, which made Hermione glance at him pointedly, and then he understood why she was giving fake names.

"Is this the residence of Peter Grimgory?" Hermione politely asked.

"Peter Grimgory? Yes he's my father. But he doesn't live here anymore."

Draco groaned in frustration, causing Hermione to elbow him.

"Sorry about him, anyway, would you by any chance know where he lives right now, Miss Grimgory?"

The young lady became shifty, looking to the ground and pinching her nails.

"I'm sorry, but where he lives now is a secret, I promised him I would tell no one. You must go." Before the young lady could close the door however, Draco stopped her.

"Wait, wait." He stepped closer to her, and since she was short, she looked up at him, blushing slightly at how handsome he was.

This may have made Hermione a tad bit annoyed.

"I'm sorry, but, I didn't quite catch your name." Draco spoke, this time in a rather sultry way, a charming look on his face as he smirked down at the girl, who looked like she was about to swoon and faint.

"Oh, C-Christine. My name's Christine."

Draco smiled flirtatiously, "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes.

What a pathetic line.

Besides, Hermione's name was beautiful too.

Wasn't it?

"Hey Christine, I know you're not allowed to tell us where he lives, and I would hate for you to break any promise that you've made. But you see, it is simply imperative that my partner and I see him."

"What could be so important?" Christine asked, looking up at him shyly.

"Let's just say, it's a matter of life and death. I assume you're a witch since your father was a wizard?" Draco softly spoke, so much so that Hermione had to strain her ears to continue listening.

Christine's face hardened, and she pursed her lips, "I gave up everything to do with that world. It destroyed my father, and I refuse to let that happen to me as well."

Draco placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look into her green eyes, causing Hermione to nearly burst in anger at that action.

What was wrong with her?!

Hermione was never the kind to get jealous, especially if it had anything to do with Malfoy.

"I'm sorry to hear that love, but your father is an important man still. And we have to meet him, or both your new world and old could be destroyed."

Christine gulped, hesitation and worry in her eyes, and as she wrung her hands, Hermione could not help but feel a certain strong dislike towards the girl as Draco looked at her tenderly.

"Fine, I cannot tell you his actual address, but I can tell you which city he's in."

"That would be perfect." Draco flashed his most charming smile, and both Hermione and Christine nearly melted on the spot.

"New York."


"What're you talking about, Mum?" Ron asked, his dirty face scrunched up in confusion.

Molly Weaseley dared not to turn around and face her loved ones. She gripped the iron bars of the cell door, the ache in her heart increasing by the second. She desperately wanted to break down and cry, but she knew that would do no good. She could feel Arthur's comforting hand on her shoulder, and she turned to find him looking sadly down at her, unshed tears in his eyes.

"It's time, Molly."

Molly hated to hear the pain in his voice, hated the way he looked; guilty, ashamed, depressed, broken.

"Time for what?" Harry enquired, worry building up in him as he realised something was very very wrong here.

"What do you mean, she's not blood?" George added, not really wanting to know the answer though.

Finally, Molly Weaseley turned around to face the confused children.

"Fred, George, Ron," She looked at each of them, their confused faces, and remembered the very first time she laid eyes on her children, thinking each and every one of them to be the most precious things in the world, and swearing to protect them till her last breath.

"I'm afraid your father and I have not been honest with you lot." At this point, she was wringing her hands, looking down at her feet, wishing she was standing anywhere else but here in this position.

"Mum, what is it? Tell us!" Ron was getting impatient, but even more so, getting very panicked.

And he had good reason to be.

"Ginny is not your real sister."

Molly expected gasps, she expected silence perhaps as the boys took in the news, maybe shouts of disbelief and anger, but the last thing she expected, was laughs.

"Come on Mum, for real, what is it? It's not a good time to joke." George spoke once his laughter died down.

"Though we must admit, that's pretty funny. Good one, Mum." Fred added, chuckling still.

But Molly and Arthur were solemn as ever, shattered at how the boys refused to believe such a thing.

"She's not joking."

This time, Molly got what she expected; silence.

"I don't understand." Harry was the first to speak, the other 3 were just staring at Molly and Arthur in shock and confusion.

Molly took in a deep breath, and Arthur could see she was not strong enough to go on.

"What your mother is trying to say is that…Ginny is adopted."

Molly squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced at that word.

She hated that word.

"No!" Ron cried out, "No that's impossible, Ginny is a straight out Weaseley!"

"She's got the hair and eyes to prove it!" George protested.

"That was an enchantment. Ginny does not actually look like that naturally." Arthur replied, trying his best to not speak shakily and to hold his ground, but he knew he was going to crumble any second.

"Why did you adopt her?" Harry asked, recalling the first time he saw Ginny, thinking what a cute sister Ron had.

"Because her parents had died by my hand." Arthur answered.

Ron had plopped himself on the raised stone platform, his head in his hands. Fred and George were just listening intently, both had tears rolling down their cheeks, all traces of humor and happiness gone from their eyes, where they normally resided.

"What do you mean?" Harry pushed further, getting rather annoyed by the way only bits of information was slowly getting revealed. He was always one that preferred having the whole truth.

This time Molly replied, choking back a sob.

"Ginny's real parents were death eaters."

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