A/N: Hi, KelseyCat here. This is my first Dramione fanfiction. I had the idea for a while and I thought this idea would fit with this pairing. Here's the scoop: First- Some bits and pieces of HBP and DH will be in here. If you have any questions about the timeline later, please PM me. Secondly, I'm in a desperate need of a BETA and I would really love one for this story alone. Third- I will try my best to update consistly. I have a young infant who does take up most of my time, I have about two hours of 'nap-time' writing and 'Whatever at night, of course, sacrificing my sleep hours.' Reviews and PM are good motivators for updating. Anyways- Please review and thanks for reading. (Thank you Guest Reviewer for pointing out mistakes. I think I fixed them all)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does.

True Love's Locket

Chapter 1- Draco Malfoy's 'Accursed Condition'

His gray eyes flickered around the room as he wore his blank stoic face of classic boredom. He glanced over the many old portraits of headmasters and headmistress from the past; over to the baby phoenix, cooing in it's own ashes. Draco utmost refused to make eye contact with the older man sitting across from him with the half-moon glasses bridged on his nose. Draco couldn't help but feel some tension in his limbs from what exactly had happened between himself and the quirky headmaster just only a couple of months back.

Sitting in the headmaster's warm and cozy office; Draco felt his blood run cold just reflecting the situation. He had almost killed this old geezer by his own hand; instead he took to the offer of protection and hiding, believing that the old man could protect his mother without suffering at the hands of the Dark Lord. Swallowing his pride to take the help; was another battle entirely. Malfoy's don't hide or take help. Though nor do they kill the only person that was genuinely kind to him besides his mother.

He would never admit just how much it meant to him that the old man trusted him again; just like that. Or perhaps, Dumbledore figured that he wouldn't be much of threat because currently, the Order of the Phoenix was protecting his mother. As long as Dumbledore protected the women he loved dearly; he would swallow his Slytherin pride and try his best not to cause anymore problems.

The office was quiet despite the crackling of the fire. Draco could hear his own blood pulsing through his head. He swallowed down his nervousness because, well, Malfoy's never get nervous. His own blood that was responsible for this meeting. Draco had opted to skip his the first feast of his seventh year. His own shame hung over him as a heavy blanket. It smothered him, every chance. He was lucky that no one has died that night.

Inside, his guts twisted anxiously as the headmaster read the piece of parchment that carried the news of his newly discovered 'condition' that he happened to get between summer break of sixth and seventh year. This 'condition' was a piece of work that never cease to irritate him; for carrying a bit of parchment and a quill all the time will eventually grow tiresome. Draco let himself relax and just stared over the headmaster's shoulder, looking into the fire, dazing.

The simple question of 'Why did my father do this to me?' plagued like an annoying cockroach. Malfoy knew the answer; refusing to follow orders, refusing to kiss the arse of a psychotic madman, refusing to be like his father. It was bad enough that he had evidence of his own childish stupidity branded on his arm like cattle. His own father telling him that he would be spending the rest of his life licking some snake-faced man's boot and popping out more death eater babies for the upcoming war. The order of how to spend his life just didn't sit well. It was complete hypocrisy that Draco was taught from boyhood that a Malfoy does not bow to another. He had only did what he was taught, and look where it got him. Punished; as his father gladly had put it. Draco would have preferred a couple of heavy beatings and the Cruciatus curse but no. His father was more inventive this time.

Draco shifted in the comfortable green velvet chair as he brushed his hands through his silvery- blond locks. His silver molten eyes glanced to the headmaster; he felt his own eyebrow twitch in annoyance when he saw a smile blossoming on the geezer's face. He watched the headmaster as the old man gently laid his mother's letter on the desk before him.

His anticipation grew when Dumbledore cleared his throat getting ready to speak. Draco mentally growled, 'tease.' Lost in his own temper, Draco completely missed as Dumbledore walked swiftly to the old portraits that Draco had been staring at before. The blond haired man glared at the back of the old man's head while setting in his jaw; tuning in and out of the conversation that Dumbledore was having with a portrait. Draco was setting on being upset at someone for this mess (even if it was his own doing) that his ears only caught the last tidbit of the headmaster's conversation. The headmaster cheerfully talked to the portrait; clearly enjoying his conversation with Armando Dippet, "Yes, please send her here. The password is Lemon Drops."

Then the older man turned around slowly with a contemplative gaze in his eye; he looked at Draco, then to the plain silver locket that hung around the young man's neck. The headmaster cleared his throat again before speaking,

"Mr. Malfoy, your mother's letter did not have many details about the locket or how you ended up wearing it and unable to take it off. She found you later that evening before the Order collected you both from Malfoy Manor and you were unable to speak. Would you care to explain before help arrives?"

Then another smile bloomed onto the old headmaster's face as he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, I meant to say explaining it out on your bit of parchment there in your lap," pointed Dumbledore, "It seems, as people, we taken the spoken word for granted, wouldn't you say?" Malfoy could only nod his head in agreement; not exactly sure if the question was for him or was it to be answered at all. Only watched as the Headmaster perched himself by the window; waiting for his explanation.

Delicately, Draco unraveled his scrap piece of parchment and prepared his quill. When the tip was saturated with dark ink; he began to write in elegant cursive.

Headmaster,

This is my father's new punishment for not finishing the mission that was given. It was also given to make a point of not talking back and refusing to do as HE wanted with my life. It seems that if I could not go through any of his careful planning; through with me he would be. This is his way of trying to control my actions. As you know, only his unreasonable actions would, probably now, have my mother and myself dead. The night we, my mother and I, were going to leave Malfoy Manor with the Order of the Phoenix. My father called me into his study, seemingly rather reasonable after hearing my betrayal but my mother's departure as well. That's when he tricked me.

My father invited me to sit down and have a glass of firewhiskey to 'Celebrate' going into my seventh and final year of Hogwarts-

Draco paused in his writing and shook out the pains in his hand. Never in his life had he written so much in these last few months. He glanced down to what he had written; his silver eyes flashed in anger. Angry mostly at himself for letting his guard down; for believing that a man who once gave beatings at a regular basis, seemed to finally care. He had actually gotten his hopes up that his father did care; only to have a heavy truth weighing down his neck. With a quick dip to his ink, Draco started writing again.

After several drinks, my father pulled this bloody locket from out of his robes. Stating that, 'All Malfoy men have worn this at this their last year in Hogwarts, and it was such a great honor.' Admittedly, I was foolish when I let my father have my back; I had complete trust in him not to kill me with my back turned. I let my OWN father do this to me.

It was only when the metal hit my skin with overwhelming burning sensation ; I knew something was different. While my whole body felt it was on fire, I looked for the clasp of the bloody locket and it was gone. I tried pulling it over my head, only to have it reappear around my neck. In my rage and pain, I turned my wand to my father and tried to curse him. That's when I realized I could no longer speak.

My father turned his back on me and laughed. Telling me on his way out of his office that this was a punishment fit for a Malfoy. Then he was gone. I passed out a couple of minutes afterwords from the pain. When I awoke, I still couldn't speak and my mother hoovered of my bedside with questions. Questions, that I still don't know the answers to. Do you have any idea what this would be? Why would this accursed thing take away my ability to speak?

Once finished telling his story, he sat there and reread what he had written while looking for any mistakes. When he was satisfied, his long pale fingers expertly rolled up the parchment while he gracefully removed himself from the chair; then he strolled over to the headmaster and handed the parchment to the older man. For a few moments, Draco didn't know what to do with himself. Should he leave? Should he make his way to the dungeons and let the Headmaster contact him when he wanted to 'talk?' He ran his hand through his silky hair as he gave the headmaster the slightest of nods, bidding him farewell and walked his way to the door.

His hand reached for the bronze handle just as it opened from the other side. Draco sneered as familiar sight of caramel bushy locks came into view. A run in with Hogwarts very own 'Insufferable know-it-all' mudblood Granger. Malfoy mentally groaned and asked if his night could get any worse?

Then she stepped inside; completely missing the blond hair man, "Headmaster, you wanted to see me?" His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Why must he torture himself like that? Why did he feel the need to curse himself even more? Draco crossed his arms over his school robes and stepped back; so she could enter further into the Headmaster's office. To his dismay, it seemed to him that she was there to stay as she made herself as comfortable as possible standing up.

Draco fought the urge of making himself known; instead he studied her as she stood there, waiting for the old geezer to get done reading his story. In some sick, twisted way, Draco took pleasure in the Headmaster just having her stand there; without a greeting and wasting her time getting prepared for class. Maybe, just maybe, he would stand a chance to surpass her this last year. He took sweet pleasure in knowing that he was unintentionally bothering the mudblood; his famous smirk twisted onto his lips. At this point, he didn't even have to try to be a pain in that arse. Dumbledore was doing it for him.

A couple of minutes pass as Draco glared at the back of the Mudblood's bushy mass of hair; waiting for something to happen. Whether the Mudblood was going to be ripped a new arse hole for doing something with the rest of the Golden Trio that always manages somehow to escape their punishment. His mind wondered the more perverted direction; maybe the mudblood and the headmaster had sexual escapades together. Draco shook his head slightly, desperate to ignore a familiar shade of brown eyes with pink lips moaning at him inside his mind.

The tremors of terror ran up and down his spine; he couldn't stand her, he took fantasizing about the Mudblood as a sign to get into Pansy knickers later. That kind of imagery would never happen again if Draco Malfoy had anything do with it. The main question was, why doesn't he just leave? The headmaster had all of his information and it seemed to him that he was not needed anymore. Draco took two quiet steps to the door and was in mid motion of grabbing the door handle when Dumbledore's voice gently floated around the room,

"Ah, Ms. Granger, I'm sorry I didn't greet you sooner, I was immersed in something, please take a chair," smiled Dumbledore with a wave of his hand and conjured a twin of Malfoy's chair, except in red, right next to his.

The Mudblood didn't hesitate to walk over to the red chair and rested her creamy hand on the headrest; no doubt waiting for the headmaster to take his own seat first. In his mind, the word 'arse kisser' drifted among his thoughts. The old professor moved from the window to his own chair behind his desk. Looking over his half moon spectacles as he mindlessly patted the baby bird; he made eye contact with Draco,

"Mr. Malfoy if you would join us."

He resisted the urge to sigh; only because a pureblood 'Malfoy' doesn't sigh. Instead, he smirked and rolled his shoulders that meant anything and everything while he gracefully walked towards them. That was the best he could do, for no more insulting comments could come out of his mouth. He watched the Mudblood as her eyes narrowed as he approached closer; his smirk grew deeper, knowing that his own eyes reflected the same look towards her. It was obviously written on her face that she detested him with a passion.

Draco stood next to his green velvet chair; watching and copying the Mudblood's movements with also placing his own pale head on the headrest of the green chair. When molten silver met chocolate brown; Draco swore in his head that he could feel the waves hatred from this girl sink into his skin but he would not break the staring contest. Malfoy's don't show weakness, and most definitely not to a Mudblood; it didn't matter that she was the smartest witch of his year. She was still a Mudblood. She was filth.

The whole world seemed to fade away as he returned her venomous glare with a vengeance. Only when the older man cleared his throat loudly; that Draco returned back into the headmaster's office with the crackling fire dancing shadows on the castle walls.

"Will you both take a seat?"

Both silver and chocolate eyes whirled onto the headmaster; who still had a quirky smile on his face as his hand made friendly motions of taking a seat. He refused to flat out look at her as his own body glided down into the green chair that the headmaster had provided for him beforehand. Though, out of the corner of his molten gray eyes; he watched her creamy hands smooth her school skirt against her thighs before she sat down. Somehow, a mysterious lump grew in his throat and no matter how many times he swallowed; it was still there. He made a mental note to see Madame Pomfrey afterwords, maybe the Medi-witch could give him something.

Draco arched an blond eyebrow as the twinkling in the Headmaster's blue eyes grew into sparkling. Panic flooded into his veins as he could literally watch the wheels turn in Dumbledore's head. A small silence grew in the room, as no one had spoke, it wasn't like he could anyways. He fought the urge to sigh again when his impatience grew. He didn't have all bloody night and if he did, he most definitely did not want to spend it in the company of Mudblood Granger. The older man cleared his throat again, taking both students by surprise. Draco's smirk grew immensely as the girl next to him let out a small yelp of startle even if his own heart was thudding against his chest.

"Mr. Malfoy, you expressed concern for your inability to speak and the magic along with that accursed locket you wear around your neck. With a great mind set, I believe you and Ms. Granger should work together to figure out a solution," explained the twinkle eyed Headmaster. "After all Ms. Granger is the smartest witch of your year; she is like a walking fountain of knowledge. No doubt that sometimes I think she knows more than myself."

His silver eyes flickered to the women sitting in the chair next to him; her cheeks tinted with a fading blush from the compliment that the Headmaster gave her. Draco mentally groaned as his mindlessly ran his hand through his hair. He didn't need help from anyone. Even if he did need help; she would be the last person that he would crawl to. Senselessly, Draco opened his mouth in protest, 'I don't need that Mudblood's help.' While his lips moved; his voice still was there. He closed his eyes and hung his head while cursing silently for a few moments.

He heard rustling to his right; where she was sitting and chose to ignore the sound. When he opened his silver eyes; the sight of parchment was the first sight to greet him. His own eyes flickered to her face; her brown eyes staring at the headmaster before them, completely ignoring the fact that she was in some way, helping him. Several moments past as his own silver eyes flickered between her face and the parchment, trying to figure out if she was helping him or tricking him. He was carefully debating on the consequences when he heard her voice grind out from between her teeth,

"Just take it Malfoy. It's parchment, it's not going to bloody well bite you."

Draco couldn't help but smirk as reached for the parchment in her hand. From some reason, flashbacks of his third year at Hogwarts played in his mind. That blasted book that he needed for that oaf Hagrid's class could bite. His elegant fingers grazed her soft fingers when he took the parchment from her. Then he suddenly jumped; startled from the shock of electricity that zapped up his arm.

The emotion of 'confusion' spread swiftly throughout his mind with a small drop of panic. Quickly, on his exterior, he smoothed himself out with a smirk on his face; like he meant to jump silly like that. In his head, he only had one question, 'Just what the hell was that?' Then his eyes flickered to between the angry girl sitting next to him, to the grinning headmaster and finally to the parchment that landed on the floor after his episode. With a confident sneer to both, he reached down to grabbed it. Just only to collide heads with a tangled bushy mass of hair.

The loud clonk echoed in his head along with the pain and the smell of her shampoo. When he came back up with the parchment in his hand; they both started to glare daggers at each other like children. There was a small chuckle from the man in front of them both as he slowly clapped his hand, "Accidents do happen Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy, please put your passions aside-"

"Professor!"

Draco snorted.

Dumbledore waved his hand aside and continued like he wasn't interrupted, "As I was saying, please put your passions aside," then he smiled and watched the two students before him. For being a nice headmaster was wonderful; he also loved to mess with his students. Keep them interested and on their toes, as Muggles would say.

One student blushed a deep scarlet hue that would put Ms. Ginny Weasley's hair to shame and the other looking down his nose in disgust. The old man just shook his head, "Both of you should meet every Tuesday and Thursday after dinner in the Library to work on solving the mystery of Mr. Malfoy's condition. Of course I won't have to tell you about secrecy on this matter Ms. Granger?"

"I understand Headmaster," said Hermione Granger, fully recovered from her shock. She quickly stood up and gathered her things. Her eyes flickered to her parchment to which was getting written on with extreme endeavor by the silver-blond haired male that she hated; deciding to cut her losses.

She tried to turn away from the elegant scripture to bid the headmaster goodnight but for some reason she couldn't. The shadows from the fire played on his face and hair like a well tuned instrument. One minute, his hair was fair blond; the next, his hair was silver. Her mind immediately thought he looked like an angel; which she took for a sign to get the bloody hell away from him. Her own mind was playing tricks on her from the lack of sleep.

Hermione threw her satchel over her head and took a moment to pull out her hair from underneath the strap as she settled it across her chest. Before getting distracted again, Hermione started walking towards the door, bidding goodnight to the Headmaster over her shoulder.

The heaviness in her chest lifted when she left the Headmaster's office. She felt like she could breathe again once she was out in the brick hallway. Her eyes flickered to the window closest to her; it happened to be dusk already, which meant that no students should be out roaming the halls at night. For a moment, she had a panic attack, she couldn't start her official first day of school having detention. Her panic drove her movement but the weight of a hand on her shoulder signal otherwise; whirling her around.

A quick blur of blond and silver molten eyes greeted her as he grabbed her hand and slammed her borrowed parchment into her grasp. Then she watched as he stormed off. She carefully unrolled the parchment. Her eyes were greeted with angry but elegant handwriting voicing his opinion on her and her unwanted 'help.'

'I don't need help from a filthy MUDBLOOD like you. Forget all of this.'

She sighed and ran towards his direction; when his silver-blond head was in sight, she called out to him,

"Just how are you expecting to do magic without your voice?"

Hermione knew that Malfoy had heard her from how his back tensed for a moment. Then he continued to walk away. She turned around in the opposite direction and started to make her way to the Gryffindor common room with haste. Questions plagued her curious mind like locust. In a heartbeat; she would take Draco's help if their roles were reversed. By the time she got to the common room and into her bed; she was gone.

Draco punched his wall in his bedroom needlessly to get rid of the small electric currents dancing on his hand. He was so damn frustrated because of this stupid locket; his other hand grasped it roughly as he yanked it off of his neck for the umpteenth time. When it reappeared around his neck once more; Draco lost all of his anger. Instead, he gracefully flung himself onto his bed and let his inner voice plague his thoughts. The 'Know-it-all' Mudblood was right; just how did he expect to do magic without his voice?

Thanks for reading. Please review!