Unless You Tell Them to Everyone

The summer started out amazingly. Draco was still on the quiet side, but he was staying with Hermione again, and they were having a nice, lazy few weeks of just being with each other.

They would be going to the Burrow to stay with the Weasleys in a week or two, something that Draco wasn't too excited about, but ready to deal with.

The night before they were ready to go, Draco and Hermione were in their respective rooms, packing for the next day. As Draco packed his clothes, a cold chill whipped through the room, so Draco went over to the window to close it.

It didn't change anything, though. It got colder and colder, and Draco felt like he was literally being dipped in to an ice bath. Then, without warning, it got hot, extraordinarily hot. At first it was a nice break from the cold, but soon Draco had started sweating profusely. After a few minutes of the heat, another cold gust came through the window, which Draco went over to close again, confused.

As he turned around from closing it, a shattering was heard, and a black shadow came whirling through the room. Draco heard Hermione shout, "Draco!" from her room down the hall, but his eyes were locked on the shadow flying about his room, knocking over furniture, almost knocking in to him if he hadn't ducked.

The shadow materialized in front of him, and he knew the snake-like eyes that were looking in to his own. They could only belong to one person, and then that person began to speak. "You will pay, Draco. Keep your mudblood close, and savor your last few days." The door then burst open, a wild-eyed Hermione coming in.

Voldemort turned back in to a shadow again, heading for the window. As he left, a loud whisper filled the room, shaking both Draco and Hermione to their cores. "You are going to die."