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Chapter Text

The chandelier was moving slightly. He knew what it meant, and wasn’t sure if anyone else did. He looked around. Bella was not looking up. No one was.

It was going to crash.

It was going to crash and that meant that Granger was going to die.

Draco looked at his mother. He swallowed. She shook her head very slowly.

Granger was the brains behind Potter. And if he didn’t have her, the war was lost.

Draco and his mother had known for a while now that they wanted the Dark Lord to be defeated. The question now was, how far was he willing to go.

~*~

It had been months of dark halls and isolation. Of hating his life in the Manor. Of being afraid, almost constantly, of what would happen to his mother. She was all he had now. His father was lost to him…a ghost of his former self, Lucius was jumpy, anxious, withered. His sunken eyes told tales of torture and fear. Draco had seen those looks before. He knew what they meant.
Lucius had watched his son tortured by the Dark Lord. Watched, and all Draco saw was a glimmer of relief that it wasn’t him.

So it was to Narcissa that he placed his hope and love in. It had almost gotten to the point where he did not care what happened to him. As long as she was all right.

Food was repellant. Sleep came fraught-fully. All he had was her, and the light of the resistance against Voldemort. Though he must needs tread lightly, for though he was an accomplished occlumens, Him, the Dark Lord, was an even better legilimens. Draco needed to practice and drain himself and practice some more to effectively block him out.

He must not know that Narcissa and Draco were turn coats.

Everyone said that Bella trained him. Ha! What a laugh. As if Bella could spend her time doing anything but swoon over Voldemort. No…he was self taught, though Snape did offer guidance.

It was early in July when his mother came to him.

“Draco,” she said, closing his bedroom door behind her.

He turned. He had been tortured the night before, and was applying dittany to the open wounds, taking potion for the pain in his bones. “Yeah?”

“Life has been difficult,” she sat on the edge of his bed.

He nodded.

“Are you happy?” She asked him softly.

His eyes snapped to hers. “Happy? Is that a joke? Please let it be a joke. I haven’t laughed in months.”

“I’m not happy, either,” she paused. “And your father…I believe he’s lost to us.”
He wasn’t surprised. Not really. He heard it in the way she spoke to Lucius now. Saw it in her eyes. She didn’t love him. She pitied him.

It made his stomach turn. “So…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” and she lowered her gaze. “I’m saying…we need to act.”

“Who?”

“You and I.”

“Us? What can we do…” he almost spat the words.

“Draco. We are powerful. You’ve proven as much. Look at how you withstand torture, legilimens from the Dark Lord…And though I may not have those particular gifts, I can assist. I can help you…”

He furrowed his brow. “Help me do…what, exactly? You want me to fight him?”

“No… I want you to join the resistance.”

He stared at her, then laughed. “Oh, that’s brilliant. Thank you for that. I said I haven’t laughed in months…”

“I’m perfectly serious.”

Draco stopped laughing and looked at her. “Mother…whom shall I confront? Who in the Order doesn’t despise me?”

“Snape.”

He sat back. She had a point. Snape was not really in the Order, but…he knew it. He had been in it. “He’s at Hogwarts.”

“Just so. I want you to go to Hogwarts and talk to Snape. I think he’s more useful than we realize. And he can direct you…”

“Or he can turn me over to the Death Eaters…” Draco rolled his eyes.

“He won’t.”

“How can you know that?”

“I …” she paused. “I don’t. Not for certain. But…if you could get into the castle…speak with him. Severus had something…there was something that he hid from the Dark Lord.”

Draco’s brow furrowed. “What? What was he hiding?”
“No one knows. But I’ve seen it. Seen it in his manner…”

“You’re willing to let me go to Hogwarts, confront Snape…on a ‘feeling’?” He was aghast. “Mother, I love you. But I think you may have…”

“Stop,” she held her hand up. “I know that it sounds silly. But I know it, Draco. I know it.”

He stared at her. “How then? Do I just board the train in September?”

“No. It would need to be more covert than that. But I’m sure we can get you there somehow…” her voice trailed.

He believed that it was all wishful thinking. She wanted him out of the house, away from Voldemort, and would do almost anything to achieve that end. So, Narcissa plotted with him over the summer and into the autumn. They kept their minds busy. They spoke in hushed tones in the passageways of the manor. It gave him something to look forward to, in a way. Something that meant he wasn’t stuck in that house with him forever.

Draco had settled into a life of dread. He dreaded getting up in the morning. He dreaded seeing that …thing…in his house. He dreaded the Prophet, and what horrors it held. Dreaded speaking to his father, who wasn’t his father anymore, not really.

He wondered at Potter and the Order. Wondered how he was managing to stay alive. Voldemort wondered that, too, for it was the subject of almost every meeting he was forced to attend.

So, when they all appeared at the Manor, and Draco was brought in to identify them, he didn’t know what to think.

What did this mean? What the fuck were they all doing there?

He didn’t want to appear like a traitor outright, so he hemmed and hawed, not committing, really, to any actual identification.

He could’ve killed them all right there if it wouldn’t have meant that that was the end of the resistance. Idiots.

But then, his aunt, completely out of her mind, tortured Granger. In front of him. And he watched.

Keeping up appearances.

Fucking hell.

Draco was frozen. He was sick. He was …

And it hit him.

*~*

He was holding his wand, until he wasn’t. He had no idea where it had gone, but it was gone. He needed to apparate…get out of the Manor amidst the chaos. But he needed a wand. And the chandelier had fallen, and Granger was under it, and …

He looked at Bella.

And made his decision.
Two birds, or some such thing.

She was yelling at Potter and Weasley, not paying attention. No one was looking at him except Narcissa.

Draco ran, slid across the floor, grabbed Granger’s hand with her wand barely being held by that same hand…

…and CRACK.

*~*

Hermione’s head ached. She was exhausted. She felt sick to her stomach. She was cold.

And as her vision came back, she felt the pain in her arm. “Ow,” she muttered. And then, she attempted to sit up. It was dark, very. It was cold. There was a light flickering a shadow against what appeared to be trees not far from where she was sitting.

Hermione turned to see a fire. She was in the woods…and there was someone sitting by the fire.

Shit.

She turned quickly and felt her head burn…she was dazed. Dizzy. Ill.

“Probably shouldn’t move that quickly after being tortured.”

She leered. Well, she attempted to. “Where am I?”

“Puzzlewood.”

“Like…where the Forest of Dean is?”

“That’s the one,” he drawled.

“Why are you here?”

There was no rejoinder.

“Why are you here?” Hermione felt panicked. Where were Ron and Harry? Why was he here?

“I …” he began.

She faced him completely now. “Where are Ron and Harry?”

She heard him let out a slow breath.
“Not here.”

Brilliant. Hermione looked around carefully now, as her vision had cleared. “Is it just you and me? Here?”

“Yes.”

Hermione went to her back pocket. “Where’s my wand?”

“Right here, Granger,” Malfoy held it up. “I’ll be keeping it for the moment.”

“Give it to me.”

“Not right now. I’ll give it back. Eventually,” she heard the smirk in his voice.

Oh Merlin. This was not good. Not good. She was alone, with Malfoy, in the woods, wandless. And she felt awful.

“What happened.”

“Well,” and she saw him sit back. “You, Weasleby, and Potter turned up at the Manor. Potter was hexed with some sting jinx, and you and Weasley were recognized. My aunt tortured you about a…sword, I believe? And someone stole my wand. I made the decision to apparate out of that place, and you were the closest person with a wand. So, I took us here.”

She swallowed. “And you have my wand.”

“That’s right.”

“And I should trust you…why?”

“You shouldn’t. However, my plan is clear. You are in no condition to be moved much. I’m going to look for some sort of shelter where you can recover. I’d venture it’’ll take you a week…? Before you can be safely moved. Then we’ll go to Hogwarts. I’ll give you your wand back when we get there.”

She scoffed. “There are about a million things wrong with that.”

“Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow after I find a shelter. I’m not crawling around in the dark.”

“Why not just take my wand? Why bother trying to help me at all?”

And she saw him lean forward, the fire’s light dancing on his features. “Well, Granger. I’ll tell you. Because the wonder boys can’t do shit without you. And I happen to want the Dark Lord defeated…” he smiled as he watched the doubt fall across her face. “That’s right. I’m done with all of it, and I don’t care if you believe me,” he sat back again. “You’ve been tortured. You’re not used to it. You need to be healed. I need a wand to get to Hogwarts. And once we get those two things, you and I can go our separate ways.”

This was awful She hated it. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t need to. But regardless, I’m going to make sure that you’re healed enough so when you get back to Potter and his gormless sidekick you can get them back on track to win this bloody war,” and he got up, took his sweater off, and laid on the ground.

Hermione sat there, dazed. Her arm feeling like fire. Her head pounding.
And she knew that she was stuck.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke the next morning in much the same sort of stupor she had experienced the night previous. She was wan and weak. She lifted her head, only to have it fall back on the hard, cold earth. She swallowed. Her throat hurt, and it was dry. She needed water.

She looked at the fire, long dead. Malfoy was not there.

Well, she supposed, he was off looking for a shelter. She breathed…her lungs hurt. It was cold. She slowly attempted to sit up. Scratch that…everything hurt.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and felt her muscles pull. She had been tortured, and her body was wrecked.

She looked around, taking in the wood. Malfoy had taken them to a small clearing, probably to have room for a fire. There were very, very small leaf buds on the trees.

It was the first of April.

It felt as though it was winter not two days before…

She hugged herself. What was she going to do? No wand. No Harry or Ron. No food…and stuck with Draco Malfoy.

How did she get herself into this situation?

A tear slipped down her face, and she wiped it away. She was mortified. She was mortified that she was afraid. Hermione, a Gryffindor…not that she wasn’t supposed to be afraid. Bravery isn’t the opposite of fear. Fear is the opposite of curiosity. It’s the opposite of calm. Bravery is the opposite of inaction. And right now, she was inert. She was on edge, untethered.

“See you’re awake,” his voice came from the trees.

She turned. It hurt. “Yeah,” her voice sounded much too soft for her ears.

“Well, I found the place. It’s an abandoned shed. Pretty small. But, it’s just for a few days, so…”

Hermione nodded. She was playing with her shirt sleeve.

Draco sat across from her, the same place he was the night before. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

She looked at him. “Can I have some water?”

He smiled, conjured a glass, then, “Aguamenti,” stood and walked around the fire pit. “Here.”

Hermione downed the water. “Thanks.”

He took the glass, filled it again, and gave it back to her before he sat back down where he had been. “It’s not too far. Probably a ten minute walk. I got fucking lost though…it’s been years since we came here.”

“How am I going to walk for ten minutes? I can barely sit up.”

“Well, I can apparate there with you. I can…” he laughed. “Levicorpus you there. Tie you by a string…”

“Not funny, Malfoy.”

“No. It’s bloody hilarious,” but his face resumed its serious look. “This isn’t ideal, Granger. And I’ve been thinking…”

“Great,” she muttered.

He ignored her. “Let’s try to just…be…civil. And I think we can start by using our names.”

“I do use your name.”

“Draco,” he said. “Just…call me Draco,” his face twitched. “Okay, Hermione?” He paused. “Fuck that’s odd.”

She took a deep breath and let out a squeal.

He looked at her. “Broken ribs?”

“No…probably just bruised,” she paused. “Look, you’ve got a point, I guess. But I’m just…not really…how can I trust you? I’m at your mercy. And you’ve hated me for years. Years Mal-I mean, Draco,” and she scrunched her nose. “And we’re on opposite sides of this war.”

“Not anymore. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night. And I know that I’ve been a prat, which is why I’m only asking for civility. I don’t fancy fighting for a week in the middle of nowhere,” he swallowed and looked at her intently. “I’m done with fighting everyone and everything. Except Death Eaters. I cannot wait to kill the next one of those fuckers I see,” he muttered the last bit, saying it almost to himself.

She considered this. She had no choice, not really. It didn’t matter if he had turned from Voldemort. She was stuck. Weakened from torture and no wand. He had her wand. The best she could hope for was he helped her get better, and if he was a dick, she could somehow get it back and escape. Otherwise, she’d just need to go with his plan. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I have to believe you,” she said. “I mean, in the end, does it matter if you’re telling the truth?”

He shook his head. “I guess not. Not to you, anyway.”

“Help me up, then,” and she raised her hand to him.

“All right,” and he moved toward her, took her hand. “If your ribs are bruised, this is going to really hurt.”

“Brilliant,” she said.

And braced herself.

 

~*~

She was screaming as they appeared in the cottage. He lifted her to the wooden bed, the only one present. “Shhh…” he said. He waved her wand over her torso and muttered a soothing spell.

“Oh…fuck!” Hermione shrieked. “Why didn’t that happen last night?”

“You were unconscious,” and he covered her with a moldy blanket. “All right. Now, I can mix some potions from foraging, but not much. I’ll need to get food…” he looked around. There was a wood stove, a table and some chairs, two lamps, a bookshelf without books…”I’ll conjure a few new blankets. Maybe another bed?…you got any muggle money?”

She nodded.

“Saves me the trouble of nicking everything, then,” he went to the door, opened it, and closed it again.

She staggered out a breath. “I need something for the pain. And I think I’ve got wounds, because I’m bleeding…”

“Yeah, sometimes there are cuts and things. Let me see…” he brought a chair over to her. “You also were crushed by a chandelier, which is probably how you got the bruised ribs,” he looked at her.

“What?” She demanded.

“I need to see where you’re bleeding, Gran…I mean, Hermione. Fuck that’s gonna take some work,” he looked away. “Anyway…I need to see the wounds.”

“What are you gonna do to them?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“What am I…? I’m gonna stick my fingers in them,” he said sardonically. “What are we doing here, hm? I’m helping you to heal!”

“How do you know what you’re doing?”

“Because I’ve had to do it for myself dozens of times,” Draco replied with a flat tone.

“Oh,” Hermione felt minimized. Of course he had been tortured. He looked like he had lost at least 20 pounds, and he wasn’t that big to begin with. “All right,” and she took the blanket off. She had felt a warm seeping something on her abdomen and arm, likely from the pressure of apparition. “I …need to take off my top,” she blushed.

“Fine,” and he shrugged.

Her eyes went wide.

He started, then stopped, and started again. “Hermione, I’ve seen girls without tops on before.”

“You haven’t seen me.”

“True. But how different can it be? Muggle borns have the same external anatomy as pure blood witches, right?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ah…there it is,” and he smiled. “Come on. You need help?” He reached for her.

“No!” She yelled and pulled away. “I mean…no. I’ll do it.” Hermione started to lift her sweater…shit. She had about four tops on. “Can I just lift them up? Do they need to come all the way off?” And then she remembered…”Where’s my jacket?”

“Damn, Hermione. You don’t need more clothes!”

“No…my bag. My beaded bag…”

“Oh. It was in your jacket?”

“Yes.”

“It might be at the fire. If it was on when you left the Manor, and not now, that’s the only place it can be…” he looked around. “I’ll get it after we look at what we’re dealing with,” and Draco’s eyebrows went up. “I’m not going to force you, Granger. But if I’m gonna help you, you need to help me.”

“Granger, huh?” She cocked a brow.

“You’re pissing me off.”

She sighed. “Right,” and she lifted the layers of clothing.

“Fuck,” he said. “Lay down.”

Hermione didn’t like the way he was looking at her. He looked…worried. “What is it?”

“Lots of bruising. Severe,” he looked at her again. “Can you lay down? I need to see where the bleeding is coming from.”

She gingerly laid on the bed as every muscle screamed its protest. Her breaths were coming in short spurts…Malfoy…Draco was looking at her abdomen.

“There’s tiny cuts that are bleeding much more than they should be. Can you roll over?”

She did, her face contorted in pain.

“None there. Okay…damn. I need dittany…”

“Bag…”

“What?”

She rolled back onto her back, heaved out a breath. “There’s some in my bag. Not a lot, but…”

“Well, brilliant. I can just multiply it,” he said, standing. “I’ll be back in five minutes…” and he disappeared.

Hermione stared at the ceiling. She touched her arm, still obscured by clothing. It was coming back to her. Bellatrix had carved something into her arm…

CRACK…

“This it?” He was holding a denim jacket.

“Yes.”

Draco fumbled in it, and pulled out a smallish bag. He walked over to the bed and handed it to her.

She looked at him, bemused.

“What?”

“You’re handing me the bag…”

“Yesss?”

“Noth…nothing,” and she gingerly sat up, rummaging through it. “Oh…I forgot I had all of these books. That’s a relief,” she found the bottle. “How are you going to duplicate it? Copies are useless.”

“Not if taken right away. True, they aren’t as potent, but it’s better than nothing,” he took the bottle. He waved her wand over it and another bottle appeared. “Come on, we’ve got minutes before the magic wears off.”

She laid back and he drizzled dittany over her stomach. “I’ll need to get some blood-replenishing potion…”

“How? Those ingredients are …”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said, silencing her. “All right. You said that your arm was bleeding?” Draco didn’t see what Bella had carved into her arm, and was honestly loath to ask. But, if she was losing blood from it, he’d need to see. He sat back as Hermione rolled her sleeve up.

And there it was.

MUDBLOOD.

She gasped. “Oh my god.”

Draco turned away… away from the word. He knew he didn’t feel the same way about muggle borns anymore. He wasn’t sure how he felt, really. Just not the same.
But this…this was disgusting. This was repellant.

“Draco…” her voice was soft.

He looked at her. “I’ll need to do more than just dittany to it. But it likely won’t ever go away completely. Bella had a poison on that knife. And I’m not sure, but it probably won’t allow it to fade completely.”

“Poison? What if it spreads?”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “We won’t be able to tell for a day or two. Not until you start to show symptoms. It may be isolated to that spot.”

“But…it’ll fester. I may lose my arm,” she choked.

Draco stared at her. She was right. But there was nothing that could be done about it just then. He needed to stop it from getting infected, and then they’d concern themselves with other worries. “Let’s get that dittany on it, and move on from there.” He dripped it over the letters, the bleeding ebbing and Hermione sighed. He hated to admit that this was worrisome.

He scourgified the blood and grime.

“All right. I’ll clean this place up,” he waved her wand and the place was, well. Clean. “I’ll get food…that potion…anything else?”

She shook her head. “Don’t be too long.”

He smirked. “Will you miss me, Hermione?”

She glared at him. “Don’t be too long,” and she handed him some money.

“I’m touched…” he stood. ”Well…” and he smiled again. “Never mind,” and he was gone.

Hermione laid there, considering. He was being…well, nice. Considerate, probably the better word. And she knew she was stuck there. At least until she could move without pain. With the added uncertainty of being poisoned…and she was there for a while if she was…it would be foolish to leave before she was treated for that. Even if she managed to get her wand from him in the next day or two, she would be playing a difficult game if she was poisoned. She had no idea where Harry or Ron were.

Ron.

Hermione started to cry.

Just when things were going better, this happened. She was unsure of herself, of him. For many years now they’d danced this weird dance, connecting over their friendship with Harry Potter. So many of their conversations were about Harry…and looking back on it now, is that any real basis for a friendship, let alone a relationship?
Sure, they verbally sparred. It was enticing.
She loved his family.
But the story…their story…it’s mired by her own takes on his feelings, as well as her own.

It’s like she’s an unreliable narrator in her own life.

She placed meaning on things that may not have been meaningful at all.

Almost as though someone was pulling the strings, forcing this relationship to happen. When it may not be the best for either of them.

Ron was wonderful. But he was so…immature. Hermione loved him. She did.
But she also loved Harry.

CRACK.

“That was quick,” she said, turning toward him.

“Well, you asked, didn’t you?” He smirked and put some things on the table.

“Can I have my wand?”

Draco looked at her.

“I asked…” she smiled, and shrugged.

“Well done. You made a joke,” and he brought over a small vial.

“I wasn’t joking,” she sat up gingerly.

“Oh, I think you were,” and he handed her the vial. “Blood replenishing. I also got Wiggenweld. If any of them start to seep, I’ll put more dittany on them.”

“How…?”

“Nicked them from a relative who lives close by.”

She nodded. “Okay,” and she drank the potion, only thinking briefly about the possibility of his poisoning her.

“I have food, too. Nicked shepherds pie. I bought some stuff,” he got up and went through the bag. “Crisps, some cheese, apples…” Draco turned. “Hungry?”

“Not in the least,” she laid back again. This was torture. After being on the run for months on end, she’s suddenly at a standstill. With Malfoy, of all people.

“All right, but you’ll need to eat eventually. You won’t heal properly without food,” and he bit into an apple. He went over and sat on the chair by her bed. “I never hated you,” he said.

“What?”

“You said that I hated you for years. I never hated you.”

She laughed. “Come off it, Malfoy. You did. I’m a Mudblood, and you hate Mudbloods.”

“No. I didn’t. I was …well, I suppose I was irritated by you. Annoyed. Jealous, even, of the attention you and Potter got. But hated? Nah,” and he bit into it again.

“You’re just saying that because of the situation we’re in.”

“‘Course I am. I wouldn’t be bloody saying it if everything was fine, would I?”

She sat up and stared at him. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing. I’m explaining,” Draco paused. “I never hated you. I was …young. I was told how to think. Told I was better. What kid doesn’t want to be better? Fuck, what fucking person doesn’t want that?”

“And what changed your mind, may I ask?”

“You may,” he smirked, and ignored the eye roll. “Well, a few things. Living with the Dark Lord has its illuminating…factors. My mum. She started to be mistrustful. And then there was Jane.”

“Jane?”

“Muggle. She lived not far from me. I remember when I was a kid…and I’d sneak and play with her. Father never knew, but mum did. She’s a …was…a year older than me. I saw her in the village by the Manor. Went to her and said Hello..it was in August. A bit after mum and I decided to act against the Dark Lord,” he paused. “She was so…pretty…so…friendly. She said I looked terrible and invited me for dinner.”

Hermione couldn’t help but notice how he was speaking of her in the past tense.

He was looking at his hands, folded in his lap. “Shit, this is the first time I’ve spoken about it,” he swallowed. “Anyway, I went. I fucking went. And father found out about it. Her entire family was dead the next day.”

“Oh my god.”

Draco nodded. “I killed her.”

“You…”

“No, not me, Hermione. But because I went to her stupid house, she’s dead. Because I needed to get out of my fucking house, she’s dead. Because my father is a complete and utter…” he closed his eyes and sucked in air. He shook his head. “I had forgotten about her. We’d build forts. Climb trees. We’d spend a day mucking about. We were kids, having fun. And she remembered me, and she opened her house to me…”

Hermione had tears in her eyes.

“And had it been just a few months before that, I would never have approached her. Fuck, I wouldn’t have even been in the village. But I was. And she was. And she’s dead.”

“I’m…” shocked? “I’m sorry…”

He shrugged. “I’m telling you so that maybe you can see that I feel differently. I’m not sure how differently, but I’m not the same. You can trust me to take care of you until you’ve healed.”

“And then?”

“And then…I fight at Hogwarts. You go find your …whatever they are.”

“Friends?”

“Whatever,” he smiled.

Hermione nodded. “I’m exhausted.”

“Want a sleeping draught?”

“No…” she laid down and closed her eyes.

Draco stood and went to the window. This was difficult. It was hard to be honest. It was harder still to be honest to Granger.

Hermione.

And to not be snarky, almost impossible.

But…here he was. He turned to look at her.

He could have sworn her eyes had been open a second ago, looking at him.

Chapter Text

There were sounds she wasn’t familiar with. Kitchen sounds…”Mum?” Hermione murmured out softly.

“What?”

A deeper voice issued from behind her. Her eyes opened, and she felt the soreness over her body. Draco Malfoy came into view. “What? Did you say something?”

“Oh…yeah. I must’ve been dreaming,” and she sat up, very slowly. “I think I’m going to need something for pain, Draco. Everything hurts.”

“Okay,” he turned and went to the table, retrieving a vial. He handed her the Wiggenweld Potion. “Drink a few sips and I’ll do a charm or two.”

Hermione sipped, and then handed it back.

“Leniens,” and he waved her wand.

“That’s illegal, isn't it?”

He cocked a brow. “You’re joking.”

She shrugged, and suddenly felt lightheaded.

“Better?”

“Mmm,” she replied.

He laughed. “I heated up the pie. Want some?”

“Food?” Hermione was absolutely light. She hardly felt a thing.

“Yeah, food. What do you think?” Draco got up from the chair and pieced out a small cut of the pie. He didn’t want to do too much, as he had no idea when she had eaten last. It might not sit well with her stomach. “Here, Hermione,” he handed it to her.

She took it. “I want to get up and eat at the table.” She watched him sigh…

“You think you can make it?”

“I need to try,” she handed him the pie. Hermione got up slowly…she felt every muscle pull, resisting the movement. She steadied herself, seeing Draco put an arm out, then take it away. She dragged her feet, steadily making the five foot journey to the little wooden table. She sat down, and smiled. “I did it.”

“Well done,” and he put the food in front of her. “Think you worked up an appetite?”

“Are you taking the piss?”

“Absolutely not and I’m horrified that you’d think that,” he sat down with that infamous smirk painted on his face.

“Draco,” she began, taking a bite. “Can you please explain why you’re being nice to me? It’s unsettling.”

“That, Granger, is unfair and I believe I explained already.”

“No. You explained why you’re not supporting You-Know-Who anymore. Not why you’re being nice to me, specifically,” she took another bite and put the fork down. She was a bit dizzy from the spell and her stomach was in knots from anxiety at her situation. She hadn’t relaxed fully yet.

“Well, for the same reasons,” he finished the pie. “Pretty good, for Shepard’s Pie.”

She looked at him. “No. Not good enough.”

He sighed. “Look, I think we went over this already. I know that Potter and Weasleby can’t do shite without you. They’re hopeless. And they are the only ones who can win this thing. Well, golden boy Potter is, anyway,” he shrugged. “It’s simple math. Potter needs to win this war, and he’s hopeless without you. Ergo, you need to be with him to win this bloody war. Which means you need to heal. Which means, I need to help you get better.”

“But you could still be a prat and help me.”

“I told you, Hermione. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired. It’s not that I’m being ‘nice’ to make you feel better. I’m doing it for me. I cannot keep being angry, and afraid, and just…miserable. So, I’m trying to be pleasant,” Draco stopped. Then his eyes went wide. “Do you want me to be a snarky bastard?”

“Well, no. Not exactly,” she took another bite. “It’s just…strange, is all.”

“Everything about all of this is strange.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Hermione played with the food on her plate. “You know, I hated you.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

“You were awful. Just so…mean and cruel and for no reason other than my parents.”

He shrugged.

Hermione glared at him. “I deserve a proper answer.”

“I’ve given the only answers I’m willing to give you, Granger. And I didn’t hear a question.”

“Back to surnames, are we?”

Draco stood and went to the window, looking out.

“Look, Malfoy,” he turned at this. “I want to know why you treated me like you did. I want to know why you never gave me a chance.”

He shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m trying here. I’m trying. It’s bloody hard, Hermione. You need to trust that I’m doing this to win this fucking war, and for no other reason.”

“I believe you…mostly. But this is still pretty fucking new, Draco,” she matched his effort. “Yesterday at this time we were still mortal enemies, as far as I was concerned. And I know, you’ve been through a lot. I hadn’t even seen you for like, a year. But why? Why didn’t you ever even try?”

“Try what, exactly?” And his voice was raised as he approached her. “I told you I’m trying. What do you want from me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess…” her voice trailed. “It’s …it’s just that…I want to know what you were thinking all of those years at school.”

“I did what I was told!” He yelled. “I did what my father said to do. I believed what he told me to believe. Hated who he hated. Or…whatever. Not hated,” he said in a softer tone. Draco shook his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be terrified of your parent? Do you know what it’s like to start to realize that that person is just a person? Flawed, scared, and even stupid? It wrecks you, Hermione. Well, it wrecked me, anyway,” he swallowed. “I’m going for a walk,” and he left with slightly softer than a slam of the door.

She noted that he didn’t disapparate. He went through the door.
Like a Muggle.

~*~

Hermione was conflicted.

One the one hand, she wanted to get her fucking wand back and get the hell out of there. Though there were plenty of problems with this. She really needed to get better…and she wasn’t there yet. A few more days at least. What’s more, she didn’t know where she would go. She had no idea where Harry and Ron were, and no owl to send a message. She supposed she could ask Draco to get one, but where? The Manor was out of the question. And she felt like that would be a low blow. He had been being extremely supportive and nice to her.

On the other hand, she wanted to get to know him. Hermione had always been a tad bit fascinated by Draco Malfoy. As much as he was a complete ass, he was bright. And Harry said he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, which made her think that maybe…maybe he wasn’t just a pawn. Or just “bad.” Maybe he wasn’t “just” anything. Annnddd…being completely honest, she had always thought he was cute. So there was that mortifying thing.

And lastly, she thought going to Hogwarts wasn’t a bad idea. Apart from Snape being there, she had allies. Maybe she could hide there. Definitely send an owl to Harry. They could be there in less than a week, and she never had to speak to Malfoy again.

She had to remember that she wasn’t in this permanently. She knew that he wanted to get to Hogwarts. He was going to get there…even if he left her here, she wasn’t stuck with him. Though being stuck without a wand was terrifying.

She sighed and went to the loo. It had been ages since she’d gone, and it took a painstakingly long time to get there, even though it was feet from where she was sitting.

When she returned, she got her bag and rummaged through it for her books. There…”Hogwarts, A History.” Her comfort read.

She had been paging through when she noticed that her pain was returning and her arm was starting to seep. How long had he been gone, anyway? She got the dittany from the table and rolled her sleeve up.

It was hideous. Absolutely disgusting in every possible way. She felt nauseous just looking at it. And it looked worse.

Could she have been poisoned? Hermione attempted to feel remnants of some …thing…in her blood. It would be like Bellatrix to poison her blood.

 

~*~

He had walked for about 2 miles when he realized that he’d gone too far. Draco stood on a smallish cliff looking out into the forest.

Granger. What a cock up.

He almost wished he could have been stuck with Potter.
Not Weasley, though. He could not stomach that idiot.

At least Potter would have been a laugh. And he wasn’t stupid. Not that stupid, anyway.

But Granger.
He shoved his hands in his pockets.

He looked up into the sky.
Blue-ish with some clouds and the sun trying to poke out. Must be mid afternoon, if not early evening.

Honestly, he couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did. It made sense. He just wished that everything was a bit different. He wished that Hermione would understand without him having to explain it a million fucking times.

But, he didn’t understand it completely. How did things get to where they were? How was he so incredibly corrupted by his father? 
That was not a great leap.
He loved and idolized his father. He had been a child.

And now he was a grown up. And if being a grown up meant he had to repeat to Hermione Granger over and over why he was different and how he was different and tell her that he was not going to hurt her, he only wanted to help…then so be it.

Draco swallowed. He had never hated her, and hearing that she hated him…well, it stung. He wasn’t sure why it stung, exactly, but he didn’t like hearing it.

Even more mortifying, and harder to admit to, was he respected Hermione. He was jealous, yes, but he respected her.

Firewhiskey. He needed a drink.

Draco disaparated to his aunt’s house and nicked some booze.
He would need it to get through this next week or so.

~*~

“Well, Hermione…I got some…” he stopped. “Hermione?” She was laying on the bed, her left arm draped over the edge, the dittany bottle precariously loose in her right hand.

“Fuck, Granger,” he went to her and took the bottle out of her hand. “Hermione?!” He shook her arm. Knelt next to her. “Hermione!”

“What…” her voice was strained. She held her head…it was light, but didn’t hurt.

“Merlin, Granger! What the fuck happened?”

“Stop yelling at me!” She said. Hermione leaned on her elbow, looked down and saw the cuts. She looked away. “I think I must have fainted. I was thinking about the poison you mentioned, and just was overwhelmed.”

He rocked back on his haunches, then sat down. “What are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…stomach ache? Head ache? Burning anywhere?”

She thought a minute…”No. Though my arm sometimes burns, yes.”

He nodded. “Maybe the poison is just contained to the wound.”

“You mean, the hypothetical poison,” Hermione corrected.

“Right,” and he stood. Draco went to the table and poured a drink. “Want some whiskey?”

“I guess,” she said, and sat up completely. “I’ve been thinking, and I was wrong.”

He handed her the glass, then put a hand to his heart. “I beg your pardon?”

She smiled. “I was wrong, and in the spirit of good faith, I’d like to play a game.”

“A game.”

Hermione nodded.

“I hate bloody games.”

“Oh, come on.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sat down. “What’s the game?”

“20 Questions.”

He coughed. “No. I’m not answering 20 of your questions about me.”

“You know it?”

“Of course I know it. I was a kid, wasn’t I? And I told you about Jane. Muggle, girl…20 Questions.”

She smiled. “Perfect. Then let’s play,” she downed the drink.

He frowned. “Should you be drinking that fast after you just fainted?”
She laughed. “I’m fine…and I’ll go first.”

He braced himself.
He’d need another drink for this.

Chapter Text

20 Questions. Bloody hell.

Draco poured some whiskey and sat at the table across from Hermione. “All right, Granger. Fire away." ”

She cocked a brow.

“Hermione,” he amended, with an ever-so-slight eye roll.

“Okay,” and she took a breath. “First, let’s establish a few rules.”

 “Yes or no questions, right?”

 “Well, wouldn’t it be more interesting if we had, say, one word answers?”

“Maybe for you…”

She smiled. “Oh, come on, DRACO. Play along. One word answers, and the person can pass.”

“This sounds more like Truth or Dare, without the Dare bit,” he sipped.

She clapped her hands together. “Oh brilliant! Let’s play Truth, then. But just one word answers.”

He sighed.

“And we each get 3 passes.”

“Fine.”

“First, I’m taking more potion,” and she reached for it.

“Best save a bit. I don’t know when I can get more.”

She downed a sip, squinting as she did. “Well, that’s unpleasant,” and she coughed and poured whiskey, sipping that in turn. “All right. Me first…”

“Of course.”

“What? Do you want to go?”

He smiled. “By all means, ladies first,” he gestured at her.

She sat a moment. “What…what did you like most about Hogwarts?”

“Quidditch.”

“Not really,” she scrunched her nose.

“An addendum to your rules,” he leaned in a touch. “No lying.”

“That goes without…”

“No. Lying. Therefore, I’m not lying.”

She sat back. “Fine. Your go.”

He considered her a moment. “Did you and either Potter or Weasleby date?” He paused. “Or both?”

“No.”

“No?! Neither of them?” He appeared to be aghast.

“No. I never dated either of them.”

“Well. Fuck me,” he looked away. “I was positive you’d been with one of them.”

“Been with? What do you mean?”

“Is that your question?” He smirked.

Hermione huffed. “No. My question is: did YOU date Pansy Parkinson?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Your go,” and she sipped again.

Draco looked around the cottage. “Hm…Do you hate all Slytherins?”

“No,” she said, automatically. Hermione played with her glass, looking at him. “Are you angry with your father?”

He swallowed. “Yes.” Draco poured more. “Can you tell me what you and the dynamic duo are doing to defeat the Dark Lord?”

“No.” She paused. “But…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “But?”

“But, maybe. Maybe eventually, we might recruit some help, because I’m beginning to think we cannot do this on our own.” She hadn’t said this out loud until now, but she had been thinking it for a couple of months. After Nagini, really. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I have to, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t,” she shrugged, thinking that she needed to trust him. She was the one in a vulnerable position. “Was that your question?”

“Heh. Yeah. I suppose,” and he drank more.

“All right. How often did the Dark Lord torture you?” She swallowed.

His eyes fell. “You mean, precisely? Because I don’t know.”

“A guess, then.”

“Maybe…” he paused.…”What month is it?”

“April.”

Draco looked around. “About 200 times, I’d say.”

“Oh my god.”

He shrugged. “My turn,” and he leaned in. “Are you…a virgin?” He smiled.

“Pass,” she replied without thinking.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. You’ve passed the most fun question.”

“That’s private.”

“Yeah? And how many times I’ve been tortured isn’t?”

She rolled her eyes. “This doesn’t leave this cottage.”

“Of course,” he nodded, sitting back and sipping.

“No.”

He coughed. “What?!”

“No. I’m not a virgin,” she replied, an exasperated tone in her voice.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“No. You said no lying, and I’m not lying.”

“Wow. And neither Potter nor Weasel did it, huh?”

She sat back and folded her arms, feeling the cuts on her left arm pull. “No. And that’s rude. The way you said it.”

Draco put his hands up. “Sorry…inappropriate. But will you tell me who?”

“My turn…” she said through her teeth…and she paused. “All right. Who did you lose your virginity to?”

He smirked. “Awfully presumptuous to assume I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh…I …”

He laughed, pouring more whiskey. “Daphne Greengrass.”

“Oh. She was very pretty.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Was? Did you hear something?”

Hermione gasped. “Oh! No…I just haven’t seen her in a while.”

He nodded. “She was all right. I liked her for a bit, but nothing really came of it.”

“But you liked Pansy.”

Draco shrugged. “I guess, yeah. I didn’t really have ‘crushes.’ I was too…too…” he looked around for a proper word.

“…too preoccupied with your own life?” Hermione supplied.

He snickered. “Yeah. That’s a way to put it.”

“What made you turn Was it just your mum?”

“To…the resistance?”

She nodded.

“Well, it was gradual. But I came to hate the Dark Lord. Mostly for what he did to my father, but also, what he was doing to my mother. She was slowly losing her mind. And she wanted me out of that house. I didn’t want to leave, but she was very insistent. It helped that I was being tortured almost daily,” he paused. “My turn, Granger. You’ve had more than your fair turn.”

“Yes, of course,” she downed her whiskey.

“So…have you had a relationship?”

“Ah…sort of.”

“That’s an odd answer to that question. Did the person know they were in a relationship with you?” Draco smirked.

Hermione laughed. “We dated for a couple of summers. Muggle. Nice.”

“Ah I see. Boring,” he nodded.

“No! He was not boring.”

“Did he make you orgasm?”

Hermione’s face fell and she flushed red. “I pass.”

“Of course you don’t have to answer, but it’s a legitimate question.”

“It’s not and I refuse to answer.”

“Only one pass left by my count…” he smiled.

Hermione scowled. “Do you like me now? Now that we’re in this mad situation?”

“Not when you don’t answer my questions…” he laughed. “But all right. Fair enough,” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, and poured more whiskey. He was going to get drunk. “Yeah, you’re all right. I pretty much knew what to expect, so there’s that.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, some bickering. You being a know-it-all…”

She paled. “I feel like we’ve gotten on pretty well, all things considered.”

“You do know that’s all my doing, don’t you?”

Hermione stood up…too quickly, and sat down, holding her head.

Draco was up pouring water from her wand into the glass that had held the whiskey. “Damn it Granger, mind your temper,” and handed her the glass.
She drank it.
“How are you feeling?” He sat next to her.

“I could use that spell again I think…”

“Too much for one night, then. All right,” he took her wand, “Leniens.”

She felt light. “Thank you,” she smiled.

“How is that pain of yours?”

“Mm…better now.”

“Still persistent though?”

Hermione shrugged. “No. It ebbs and flows.”

“Couple more days,” and he leaned back, looking around. “Do you know Occlumency?”

“Not really.”

“All right. Then I think I should try to teach you some before we leave this cottage. If you’re going to Hogwarts with me and the Carrows get you, you’ll need to use Occlumency for both me and the resistance,” he stood.

“You’re going to teach me?” Her voice held doubt.

“I’m pretty good,” his brow furrowed.

“How long will it take?” She smiled stupidly.

“Mm…I won’t be teaching you everything. Just the basics. Since you’re not completely daft…maybe two days? Depending on how fast you pick it up.”

“I’m the brightest witch of my age,” she said with a slur.

“Well then. A day…'brightest witch.’ And then I’ll judge you,” he took the whisky and things. Waved the wand, and a bed appeared on the other side of the cottage.

“When can we start?” She was anxious about the idea, but also slightly thrilled.

“When you’re mostly better.”

“How long will that be?”

He sat on his bed. “Fuck, I dunno, Granger. Stop arguing and standing up too quickly and maybe another day or two. Bella did a number on you. Your insides need to repair themselves,” he took his shoes and sweater off, then laid down.

“I’m not arguing.”

“Thanks for proving my point,” she heard the smirk in his voice.

Hermione stood, feeling heady from the spell. Also the whiskey. She went gingerly over to her bed, though not as carefully as she did earlier, and sat down. She thought she could take her bra off…then looked sideways at Malfoy. He was staring at the ceiling. Hermione slid it off and laid under the blanket. “Thanks, Draco.”

“What for?”
“For taking care of me. I promise when I’m better in a few days, I’ll be able to take care of things and I’ll learn Occlumency fast. That way you can get on with your things.”

He sighed. “No problem.”
He didn’t say that he hadn’t minded being there with her. She was fine enough company, as far as company went. She was better than he thought she’d be.

*~*

The morning was bright, and Hermione felt a lot better, save her headache. She could move her limbs without her muscles screaming. She was sore, but it felt more like she had slept in an odd position, or overdid it with exercise, rather than feeling like she got run over by a truck. Her arm hurt badly. It was only now that the rest of her wasn’t screaming in pain that she felt it acutely.

She sat up and looked across the room at Draco. He was snoring very slightly.

And it hit her…she could attempt to take her wand without him waking. She swallowed. It would be so, so wrong of her to leave after everything he had done to help her. And he was going to teach her Occlumency.

Hermione pondered it. This might be her only chance…and she wasn’t sure if she trusted him to give her back her wand. Not when he didn’t have his.

She stood slowly, her breath hitched in her throat. Fuck, she thought, silently crossing the room. This could end very badly. She stood a foot from him, looking around…and there it was. On the bed by his hand, but he wasn’t holding it.

Quick, she thought. If he wakes, what will she say she was doing? She looked around…curtains. Bright sun.

“What are you doing, Granger?”

“Oh…I was going to close the curtains,” she managed to say.

“Why?” And he rubbed his face, sitting up. “Oh, wait,” and he took the wand. Her wand. “You were gonna take this, weren’t you?” He tapped it on his palm.

“No,” but her face flushed, and she backed away.

“Although I understand why, that hurts. Haven’t I proven myself?” He sat up. “Shit,” and he waved her wand over his forehead.

Hermione was unsure what to say. She settled on the truth. “Look…I guess I ’m worried you won’t give it back. You don’t have a wand…and…”

“Of course,” and he stood. “Of course I get it. But I’ll be sleeping a bit closer to this,” he passed her on the way to the loo. And slammed the door.

She sighed. Well, that failed spectacularly. Although his reaction was much more benign than she had expected.

Hermione turned as he left the loo. “I’m sorry,” she said, slightly surprised she was apologizing.

“Yeah? Me too,” and he got a cup. “Coffee…” he rummaged through some things. “Probably need to nick some…”

“Draco.”

He stopped, paused, and turned, leaning against the formica countertop.

“I …feel very vulnerable,” she was mortified she was admitting this to him. “I’m just feeling a bit better…and I guess I just don’t want to be left without protection.”

“From me?”

“No, actually. If you wanted to hurt me, you’d have done it already,” she sat down on the wooden chair. “But…I’m a wanted person. And what am I gonna do without a wand?”

He sighed. “I promise. When we get to Hogwarts, I’ll give it back.”

“But then…what will you do? How will you protect yourself?”

He smiled. “You worried about me, Hermione?”

She blushed and her gaze fell. “I suppose I am.”

He went over to her, pulled the other chair closer, and sat down. “Headache?” She nodded. He waved the wand. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Look. I’ll be all right. Snape’s there…we’ll figure something out,” he paused. “So, you’re feeling better?”

“Yes…except my arm,” and she pulled her sleeve up gingerly. “My stomach wounds are almost healed.”

His eyes fell to her arm. It looked terrible. On fire, almost.
Poisoned. “You don’t feel any nausea? No burning anywhere else?”

“No.”

Draco nodded. “I need to get a topical antidote.”

“Okay,” she pulled her arm close.

“Merlin, Hermione. Why are you so feeble all of a sudden? I’m not cross.”

“I’m…ashamed. You’ve been nothing but nice and supportive, and I tried to take my wand.”

“You didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done. Shit, if you had my wand, I’d be plotting every second to get it back.”

She looked at him and smiled. “This took a lot shorter than I’d’ve imagined.”

“What did?”

Hermione stood. “Me trusting you. Liking you, even.”

“Careful, Granger. You’re treading on dangerous ground. What would your friends think?”

“Who cares?” And with that, she went to the loo.

He was dumbstruck. Who cares? What did that mean? “I’ll…be back in a few,” he called out. “Coffee and an antidote,” he got up and left.

Draco went to his aunt’s house again…no one there. Again. He wondered idly at that. He went through her potions…There. Uncommon Poisons…probably should be drank, but maybe she could do both.

Draco took some coffee and some stew. He went outside. Andromeda had flowers everywhere, and they were only just beginning to bloom.

He had a thought.

The bell chimed as he walked inside, a bag on his forearm with the things from Andromeda’s.

“Morning…need help finding anything?” A man called out.

“Ah…flowers. Just a bouquet,” Draco went to the counter. He rummaged through his pocket for the Muggle money. Parchment. Ridiculous.

“Anything in particular?”

“No…just something…you know. Pretty.”

The man smiled. “For a lady?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And is this lady your mum?” He turned and went to the cooler with glass doors.

“Ah…no,” Draco replied with some feeling. “Not my mum.”

He chuckled. “Friend or something more?”

He was getting irritated. “Just a friend, I guess. Something with…maybe purple? Red?”

“Passion.”

“What?”

“Red flowers denote passion,” he took a few.

“No…I …” damn this was complicated. “We’re friends. Sort of. I’m just trying to make her…space more…”

“Got it.” The man put together some yellow flowers, a couple of pink ones…peach…and one red rose. “How’s that?” He held it up.

“Nice,” and it was. Pretty. Joyful. “Thank you,” and he handed him some notes.

“Too much, sir…I …”

“Keep it,” and he left.

Draco apparated to the cottage and went inside. He got a vase and filled it with water.

“You got flowers?”

“Right again, Hermione. You really are the brightest witch of your age,” and he put them in. “Want coffee? I’m brewing it.”

She went over and looked at the flowers. “They’re nice.”

“Well, it’s drab in here. Dated. Thought you’d appreciate the color.”

She nodded, smiling. “Did you get the antidote? It’s smarting.”

“Oh…yeah…” he went through the bag. “Here…” he went to hand it to her, then paused. “Have a seat.”

She sat.

He approached her and pulled the chair close. Hermione straightened her arm, looking at the word. It was inflamed. Swollen, but not seeping anymore.

“Want me to do it?” He asked softly.

She took in a breath. Nodded.

Draco opened the vial and poured a little on his fingers. Gingerly he rubbed the potion onto her arm. Hermione closed her eyes. Her arm was cooling…she sighed. “Thank you.”

He held on for a moment. His finger tangentially sliding softly against the unaffected skin. “Of course,” he pulled away and closed the vial. “How about tomorrow we begin Occlumency lessons? Tonight we can play Truth again,” he smiled. “As it seems you’re doing much better.”

She swallowed. “Yeah okay.” Hermione sat back. “I’ll get the coffee. How do you take it?” And she stood.

“Come on, Granger. Black. How do you think?” He turned to her with a sly smile. “And let me guess. Three sugars and some cream?”

“No actually,” she poured two coffees out. “I take it black, too.”

He stared at her.

Then laughed.

Chapter Text

“Do you have any siblings?”

 “No,” replied Hermione. “Did you wish you had them?”

Draco looked into the dark cottage. Far sides of the place was cloaked in almost complete darkness, the few candles they had lit at the table the pair was sitting at illuminated only a small part of the cottage.
He hated to admit that “Truth” wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. It felt good to just…talk about himself. He was typically quite closed off.
“Sometimes I do,” he paused. “Do you?”

“All the time,” Hermione said softly. “Do you have a best friend?”

He sat back. “Not really,” and he thought he had never admitted that out loud. “Obviously Potter is yours.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Suppose?”

“I mean, yes. But I’m not his, and I tend to think that a best friend is reciprocal,” she played with her sleeve.

“You are undervalued, Granger.”

She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” and he leaned in a bit. “People don’t value you enough. Your ‘friends’ can’t do shite without you, and you’re not even considered a best friend.”

“I think you’re overstating it a bit.”

“They left you. At my house.”

“They thought I was dead!” She paused. “Probably.”

He smirked and leaned back again. “Okay.”

Hermione shifted in her seat. She suddenly felt quite alone. She had no parents, not really. Her friends were Merlin knows where, and she was in a cottage in the middle of the forest with someone who was supposed to be her enemy. Only he didn’t feel like her enemy anymore. “I …” she took in a breath. “You’re right.”

“What?” He laughed a touch.

“No, you are. You’re right. My friends probably don’t value me as much as they should. But that doesn’t negate our friendship, or …whatever.”

Draco shook his head. “You know, Hermione, you could start having new friends.”

“What? New friends?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “I could be your friend,” he said softly.

And she froze. Draco Malfoy, her friend? What would the others say? They’d think she’d gone mad. “Heh. Yeah, I guess that's what we're becoming, aren’t we?”

“Well, we certainly aren’t enemies.”

“No,” and she sighed. “You’ve changed a lot, Draco.”

“Yeah,” and he looked at his lap. “A lot.”

Hermione was staring at him as he fidgeted. He was so different from when they were at Hogwarts. He was vulnerable, and accommodating, and concerned. He was …nice. And she was fairly certain that once Harry and Ron saw that, they’d like him, too.
Because she liked him. In spite of herself, she did. “I like who you’ve become.”

He looked up and smiled at her. “Thanks. I think I do, too.”

And she went to bed shortly after.

~*~

“The first thing you need to know about Occlumency is that you’re in charge.”

She nodded. “I’m in charge.”

“You decide what’s seen, what’s not seen. How much is seen…” he was standing, pacing a bit. Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed. It was decided that he would give her an overview, and then practice a little. He said he didn’t want to push too hard…her arm still had poison in it.

Draco didn’t tell her that he might just need to isolate it. The poison might never dissipate. That it might, in the end, kill her.

“How do I do that?”

“There are different ways. You can create false memories. You can compartmentalize and make sure things are well hidden. You can block with Protego, but that only destabilizes momentarily…”

“What have you done?”

He smirked. “All of it. And I’ve emptied my mind of the things that cause me …pain.”

“Forever?”

“No, Granger. Not forever,” he rolled his eyes.

She raised a brow.

“Hermione,” he amended. “But you can empty your thoughts and fill your mind with benign shit. Stuff no one cares about.”

“Okay. All right…” she stood.

He looked at her. “What? Now?”

“Now. Of course now. I need to know how I react so I can start determining what to do.”

He swallowed. “All right,” why was he nervous? “Okay. Now, you don’t have your wand, so…”

“…so no Protego. No problem,” she assumed a defensive stance.

Draco pointed his wand and said, “Legilimens!”

Hermione felt the invasion…she was seeing what Draco was seeing…herself as a child…crying for her mom because she was leaving for work…the cat she wanted, but couldn’t get…being alone at school…being sorted into Gryffindor…

Then she felt as though she was being pushed violently backwards, and she stumbled. “Fuck. That’s rough,” and she rubbed her head.

“Are all of your memories sad, Hermione?” Draco was standing with her wand at his side.

“No of course not,” and she sat down. “My head hurts.”

He nodded, and went over to her. He waved her wand in front of her head. “Better?”

“Yeah,” and she looked at her wand. “It works well for you, huh?”

He looked at it. “Yeah. Better than I would’ve thought.”

Hermione wanted to say that there are a lot of things that are better than she thought. She wanted to say that he, Draco, was better than she thought. “Seems to be going around,” she smiled.

He looked at her. Swallowed. “How are you feeling?”

She touched her left forearm. “Okay…I wish this wasn’t smarting as much as it is.”

He sighed. “Need a break?”

“No,” she swallowed. “Let’s go,” and she stood.

~*~

She was exhausted, her arm was throbbing, and she was hungry. Hermione slumped in the rickety wooden chair after two hours of Occlumency. “Let’s have a break.”

He huffed out a breath. “Thought you’d never ask,” and Draco filled two glasses with water. “Here.”

She took the glass and sipped. “Can you give me some more of that potion?”

His brow furrowed. “It’s hurting again?”

“It hasn’t stopped.”

He fetched the vial and handed it to her.

Hermione sipped. “How much longer, do you reckon?”

“How much longer…what?” He sat across from her.

“Until we can leave?”

Draco looked away. “Not sure. A couple of days, maybe.”

She nodded. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Hm?” His gaze met hers.

“This,” and she pointed to her arm. “The poison. It won’t ever be eradicated.”

“Well…we could have Snape look at it…” he shrugged.

“Snape?! He killed Dumbledore! I don’t want him anywhere near me!” Hermione was aghast.

Draco put his elbows on the table. “I almost killed Dumbledore,” he said softly.

She swallowed. “But you didn’t.”

He played with her wand, rolling it between his fingers. Draco sat back. “I didn’t,” he paused. “My mum…she trusts him. That’s who I’m going to see at Hogwarts. That’s who she trusts me with.”

She pulled a face. “Snape? Are you seriously suggesting that he’s not…on You-Know-Who’s side?”

“I don’t know. But I’m trusting him with my life, so I guess…yeah. A bit.” Draco searched her face. “Hermione, do you trust me?”

She swallowed. She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I trust you…here,” she said. “Here. I think…once we leave…”

He arched a brow. “You think what?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I want to believe that I can still trust you…” she looked away. It was difficult, this, telling him these things when he was looking at her so intently. “Are you my friend?” She heard him chuckle. “What?”

“Well, it sounds like we’re in a school yard, doesn’t it? We’re of age. We’re basically adults…”he paused. “Fuck, we ARE adults. But I get it, I offered to be your friend. I used that word,” Draco shrugged. “Yes. Salazar help me…I’m becoming your friend, Hermione Granger.”

She stood, walked around to his side of the table, and pecked his cheek. “Good. I’m your friend, too, Draco Malfoy,” and with that, she went to the loo.

~*~

She brushed her teeth and thought about what all of this meant. She wasn’t attempting to get her wand back anymore, so there was that. Was she just going to go to Hogwarts with him? Was she going to try to find Harry and Ron?

She changed her clothes and went into the main room again. Draco was cleaning up the stew he had nicked. “Where are you getting all of this food?”

“My aunt’s, I told you.”

“No, you said that you got the potions at her place.”

“Well, got food too. No one is there…so it’s just going to spoil,” and he waved her wand and the dishes were cleaned and put away.

“Where are they?”

“No clue,” he sat.

“Hm,” Hermione sat, too.

“What?”

“Are you close with her? Your aunt?”

He smirked. “Not even a little.”

“I wonder where they are…” she had a faraway look about her.

He looked at her. There was something inexplicably sweet about Hermione Granger. A year ago…no. Two years ago, he found it disgusting. But then, whilst plotting murder, Draco began to view human vulnerability as an asset. It didn’t make a person weak, it made them …not strong…but someone to be trusted. Yes, that was it. He could trust someone who was vulnerable to their feelings. And Hermione was.
His head was canted, and eyes slightly vague.

“Draco?”

“Hm?”

“Where are you?” She asked with a slight laugh.

He shook his head, and swallowed. “Want to play Truth, or are you too sleepy? I can get the potion, maybe do another charm…”

“Let’s play for a little,” Hermione smiled.

“Right. I’ll go first,” Draco pulled his chair close to the table, and folded his hands. “Did you have a crush on anyone at Hogwarts?”

She blushed and looked away. “Yes,” she said softly.

He waited. “Who?” He turned his hands palm up.

“My turn,” she returned. Hermione considered a moment. “Did you actually like Crabbe and Goyle?”

“No,” he said. “Who did you have a crush on?”

She sat back and rolled her eyes. “Ron,” and she looked quickly away.

“Weasley?!”

She nodded, a slight scowl on her face. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing,” he returned. “I’m horrified.”

Her gaze narrowed. “What?”

“Fuck, Hermione. He can’t even be bothered to be your best friend. He can’t be bothered to stay behind to see if you were all right. He doesn’t see you for you…he just…”

“You don’t know anything about it, Malfoy,” she said softly, dangerously.

“Oh, I think I do. Do you think, for one minute, that if I had a friend as loyal as you, that I’d take them for granted?”

“Ron didn’t take me for granted,” she looked away. “We always would talk…”

“About Potter.”

She swallowed. “Among other things.”

Draco shook his head. “I just can’t believe that you’d waste your time on someone like Weasel.”

“I couldn’t control it, Draco. Do you think I wanted to fall for my friend? No. It made everything complicated.”

He shifted. “Why not Potter?”

“What?”

“Potter. He’s your friend, too…”

“Oh,” and she folded her hands. “Well, I don’t know. I just…I guess I had more fun with Ron.”

“Humph,” he returned and shook his head.

She played with her sleeve. “Why don’t you like them?”

“Who? Potter and Weasley?”

She nodded.

“Weasley is insufferable. He’s stupid.”

“…he is not stupid,” she interrupted.

“Come on, Hermione. You know he’s pretty fucking daft.”

She glared at him.

“Potter was never great, but everyone acted like he was Merlin incarnate,” Draco continued. “I suppose I thought that neither of them deserved the attention they got.”

“You were really jealous of them, weren't you?”

He scowled. “I’ve said as much, haven’t I,” it wasn’t a question.

“Was it just the attention?”

He did not want to have this conversation. Especially not with Hermione Granger. “Mostly.”

She nodded.

“My turn,” he smirked. Draco considered for a moment. “What Slytherin did you not hate? Assuming there was one you didn’t actually hate.”

She smiled. “Tracey Davis. But honestly, I didn’t know them all very well. I was always met with hostility,” she paused. “But Pansy was terrible.”

“She was all right.”

“She was not. She constantly bothered me, as much as you did.”

Draco swallowed. He shrugged.

“Sorry,” Hermione said. “I promised I wouldn’t bring it up.”

He nodded, looking down. “Tired?”

“No…I think we need to talk about leaving this cottage and what that’s going to look like.”

“Well, I suppose we can leave the day after tomorrow. Assuming your arm isn’t too painful and we can get Occlumency lessons in that are productive.”

She nodded. “And how? Are we disapparating to Hogsmeade?”

“That’s what I was thinking. I need to be careful, too.”

“Right.” She was nervous.

“It’ll be okay,” Draco looked at her steadily.

“Of course it will be,” she smiled.

Hermione watched as he got up and went to the loo. She couldn’t believe that she trusted Draco Malfoy, but she did. She wasn’t nearly as scared as she was that he would keep her wand. She wasn’t nervous about him betraying her at all. She believed that he was going to get her to Hogsmeade and then she could have her wand back. Maybe he’d ask her to go to Hogwarts with him, but as soon as they arrived, she was certain that she would get it back.

What was bothering her now, was that she was honestly worried about him.
He had become her friend.
She was coming to terms with that, and it was easier than she would have thought.

Chapter Text

The morning had a dewy, new feel to it when she woke. There was a silence which was almost disconcerting. It smelled of spring.
Hermione sat up. She stretched her limbs, feeling the pull in her left arm.

She heard the soft snore coming from the other end of the room when she moved, and wondered what was she going to do.

Hermione went to brush her teeth, and considered. Draco trusted Snape. He was putting his entire future in his hands.
She needed to find Harry and Ron…she knew that had to be part of her plan. But she didn’t necessarily need to do it straight away. Perhaps she could stay at Hogwarts for a bit, make sure that Draco was safe, and then leave.

She went back into the main room and gathered some clothes from her bag.

“Morning,” Draco said, sitting up.

She smiled. “Good morning.”

He yawned. “What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

He started at this. “Packing? Are you planning on going somewhere?”

“Well, no. Not without you. You have my wand, remember?” She smiled.

Draco stood. “Are you feeling ready to leave?”

“I am. My arm still hurts, but maybe Madame Pomfrey, or even Snape can take a look at it.”

“Well, then we need a plan,” and he went to the loo.

Hermione stood there for a moment. She had selected clothes and would change in the loo when he was done. A plan…she considered this for a moment. They’d need to apparate to Hogsmeade. Outside of that…it would depend on Snape’s influence and his loyalty to Draco.

“When do you want to leave?” He said, coming into the room.

She turned. “Tonight? Tomorrow night?”

He nodded. There was a very slight hesitation he had about the leaving so soon…he was unsure that Hermione was healthy enough. And honestly, he was worried. He was banking on his mum’s impression of Snape. It was a hunch.
He could end up dead.
What’s more, he needed to send a message to his mum.
“All right. Tomorrow night.”

~*~

“Morning,” Draco said, handing Hermione some coffee.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She smiled, took a sip. The next thing she knew, he had entered her mind.

She was with Harry and Ron in the tent, and they were fighting…she was at Bathilda’s house, and running up the stairs amidst chaos…she was laying on the floor in Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix above her screaming…

Hermione pushed him out. She was kneeling on the floor, grasping the mug. “What the fuck, Draco?” She breathed.

“You’ll need to do better, Hermione. That was okay, but you need to be prepared.” She swallowed, and struggled to stand. “Here,” he took the mug, and then her elbow.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you had just woken up and holding a hot cup of coffee. You weren’t expecting it.”

“Yeah,” and she went to the loo. He was right. She’d need to do better. Hermione brushed her teeth and went back into the main room. “We need a plan.”

“Right,” he sat at the table and gestured for her to sit.

“So, we apparate to Hogsmeade. Then we need to get to Hogwarts. I know of a passage by the Shrieking Shack, and Harry used one in Honeyduke’s.”

Draco shook his head. “I wouldn’t trust Honeyduke’s…maybe the Shrieking Shack…”

“That one gets to the Whomping Willow.”

“Okay,” he looked to the ceiling. “There’s dementors everywhere. And we need to be careful about patronuses.”

She considered. “A disallusionment charm, and then if there’s dementors, well…that’s something we’ll need to risk. Are there a lot of Death Eaters?”

“Not sure how many are actually patrolling, but some are. That’s for certain,” he leaned in. “That’s why you need to be ready to occlude them,” he swallowed, and looked down. “If I’m taken, I want you to get to Snape.”

“What?”

“If I’m taken, get to Snape. Tell him to contact my mother, and for him to do it without anyone knowing. Then get to Potter and Weasley.”

“Draco…” she didn’t like what he was saying.

“Look, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Hermione. You need to get back to those Gryffindors. No matter what, okay?”

She looked steadily at him, meeting his eyes. “You’re not expendable. I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.”

He smirked, and that made her smile. It was so familiar. “Worried about me, are you?”

She played with her sleeve. “Look, I want you to be okay. I want you to get to Snape…and,” she paused. “What will you do then?”

He shrugged. “Lay low until I can fight.”

“You’re going to fight?”

“What the fuck do you think? Of course I’m gonna bloody fight. I need to fight. I need to do something…”

She considered for a moment. “Draco…”

There was a pause. “Yessss?”

Hermione rubbed her temples. Was this a good idea? She had no idea. “I think…I might want to tell you what it is that Harry, Ron, and I are doing. You might know something.”

“I might know something? How?”

“Well, you’ve been around …You Know Who. Maybe you have…heard something? Maybe you can help.” It was a huge leap. But he seemed genuine. He seemed like they were fighting the same fight. And even though Harry hadn’t told Lupin, Draco had a familiarity with Voldemort that no one on their side did.

He shifted. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I dunno, Hermione. What would Potter and Weasley say?”

“Well, they’d probably think I’m mad. But they’re not here, are they?”

Draco swallowed. He nodded. “All right. If you think it’d help.”

“I’m not sure it will. But I also don’t think it’ll hurt. You seem just as determined as I am,” she sighed and held her mug. “Do you know what a horcrux is?”

He furrowed his brow. “No.”

“Well, it’s an object that a wizard encases part of their soul in.”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “Horcrux. That’s why…”

“Why he’s lived as long as he has. Why he survived trying to kill Harry. Why he seems to be immortal.”

He looked away. “So, you’re looking for his horcrux…”

“Horcruxes. There are …several.”

“Several,” and he looked back at her. “How did he make them?”

“By killing, and then a spell. He made six.”

“Merlin.”

Hermione nodded. “So, the diary that…” she swallowed. “That your dad slipped to Ginny. That was one. And Dumbledore, he destroyed another. Ron did one…”

“Weasley?” He chuckled.

She glared at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“So, there’s two more, and the snake. At least that’s what Dumbledore thought.”

Draco stood and looked out the window. “I can kill the snake.”

“What?”

He turned to her. “I can kill the snake.”

“How?”

“I’ll get to him. I can do it,” and he went and poured himself more coffee. “As for the other two, I’m not sure. Where have you looked?”

She heaved a heavy sigh. “Everywhere except where they actually are.”

He laughed. “Ideas?” And he sat.

Hermione shook her head.

Draco considered. He thought. “Bella was very upset about you being in Gringotts. Strangely so.”

“Do you think…?”

“Maybe. Maybe there’s one in her vault. But I’ve never heard them talking about it.”

“Should we go to Gringotts?”

“Well, you can go. I’m going to Hogwarts.”

Hermione didn’t like it. “No. Let’s get to Hogwarts, and then…”

“Then, I’ll give you your wand, and you can go to Gringotts. Or find Potter. Whatever. But Hermione, I’m going to Hogwarts,” he paused. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill that fucking snake. You lot worry about the other two.”

She paled. “Draco. I …I don’t want to leave you. You could come with me. Maybe I can send a message to Harry, and…”

He laughed. “Look, Granger. I don’t really fancy running about the country with you and the dimwitted duo. You have a job to do. And I’ll help. But how do you think it’ll be if I showed up with you? Weasley especially. Fuck…it’d be bad.”

“We need to find a way to communicate…” she trailed off.

“All right. You sort that. But I’m gonna clean this place up, make some food. Then we can make our way to Hogsmeade.”

~*~

She was sitting at the table with a galleon, and she figured that a protean charm might work. But she’d need her wand. She was packed, and Draco downed some whiskey.

“Is it safe to apparate and drink?”

He laughed. “I’m not gonna leave this whiskey…” he passed her the bottle. “Finish it up.”

Hermione took a swig and winced. She handed it back. “I …think I figured out a safe way to communicate if and when we separate.”

“Yeah?” He sat.

She nodded. “I need my wand.”

He sighed. Merlin, he needed to trust her. She trusted him. He nodded, and handed it to her.

The air was heavy as she gingerly took it from him. It was strangely symbolic. A huge moment. Hermione smiled, and then began the charm. After a fashion, the galleon glowed softly. She took out the other one, and waved her wand over it. It glowed and felt warm in her hand. She smiled. She waved it again, checked the 2nd galleon, then handed it to Draco.

He took it. It said, “Hi Draco.” He laughed. “Well, brilliant. We can greet each other.”

She rolled her eyes. “We can send short messages to each other. That way, I can tell you …well. If we get another horcrux. And you can tell me …you know. Where you are, and when you kill the snake.”

He nodded, then he looked at the wand.

Hermione looked sheepish, and handed it to him.

“Keep it,” he said.

Her eyes shot to his. “What?”

“Keep it. It’s your wand,” he stood.

“That wasn’t the deal…” she stood.

“I’m saying keep your wand, Hermione. I…trust you.” He turned and started to gather his things. He got the bag of things he had nicked from his aunt’s, and when he turned again, she was right there. “Salazar! What are you doing?”

“Here,” and she held it to him. He looked at the wand, then back to her. Without leaving her eyes, he placed his fingers on the wand, gently brushing hers. A soft jolt was felt in the base of his back. He swallowed, then looked at her mouth. He watched as a blush crept up her neck. “You’re blushing, Granger.” And he met her eyes, his fingers still on hers.

Hermione, for her part, was frozen. “I …” and she snatched her hand away. The moment was gone. “Well, we should get going,” and she took her small beaded bag.

“Right,” he looked around the cabin, and went outside.

Hermione looked around as well…the small structure had been her home for a week. So much had happened in there. She left with a click of the door.

Draco was looking at the sky. It was peppered with tiny pixels of light. He felt her behind him, and he turned, and smiled. “Ready?”

“I guess so…”

He nodded, took her right arm, and twisted them into darkness.

~*~

The air was wrought with noise. It was painful. Hermione yelled, “Disillusionment!” And she felt the strange sensation of something like an egg being cracked on her head and slipping down her body. She looked at Draco, and watched as he slowly disappeared. She took his hand and led him toward the shack.

They heard the voices of Death Eaters yelling that someone was there…they hurried, and she felt the cold air that preceded a dementor attack…she started to run, holding Draco’s hand tighter. Up the stairs and into the shack they went, she pushed very softly on the door, which was unlocked, and slipped inside. They went to the window. The charm would last a bit longer…and she supposed they could just keep doing it if need be.

Death Eaters were swarming. Dementors were overhead. “I don’t think they saw us,” she whispered.

“Where’s the passage,” he hissed.

“Downstairs. Basement,” and she turned from the window, never letting go of his hand. They went down the stairs gingerly until they got to the door. Hermione opened it. The passageway looked smaller, but then she realized it was more likely that she was just bigger. “Let’s go.”

They went inside, and Draco lit the wand and closed the door behind them. “Merlin, Hermione. This is a tight fit.”

“I hope it’s not blocked.”

“Well, I can blast it, but that’ll blow our cover.” They needed to bend over, Draco more so because of his height. And they started walking. “Are you going to hold my hand all the way to Hogwarts?” He asked with a slight chuckle.

“Oh! Sorry,” and she dropped it.

“I don’t mind.” And he didn’t. Not really.

“Draco?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I annoying you?”

He stopped and she turned.

“What?”

“Am I annoying?”

“You mean, more than usual?” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

“No…wait,” and he took her arm, and turned her to him. “No, Hermione. You’re not annoying. I mean, I’m annoyed a lot. And yes, sometimes you’re bloody annoying. But, I have to admit. I’ve grown to…appreciate you,” and he shrugged.

“I like you too, Draco,” she smiled, then turned and they continued to walk.

After almost 30 minutes, she saw the stairs going up. “Almost there.”

“It’s about fucking time. My neck is killing me,” he said.

They ascended the staircase and Hermione turned again.

“Now what?” He whispered.

“So, it’s possible that the willow will be triggered and will start swinging. I’ve never came this way before. And also, there might be dementors or Death Eaters right there…so…cast another charm. If there’s dementors, give me my wand, and I’ll cast the patronus.”

“What do you mean, you’ve never come this way before?”

“I mean, I’ve only come IN this way. Never the other way round.”

“Oh. Right. Okay,” and he tapped her head with her wand, tapped his own. She took his hand and squeezed it.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

She pushed on the door and it opened slowly.
Nothing.

“Okay…let’s go,” she breathed, and pulled him with her.

There was a loud crack, and out of nowhere, branches started to swing from all around. Hermione squealed, and ducked. “Draco! We need…” and then it happened. The air felt chilled, and Draco panicked. He let go of Hermione’s hand and took the wand in his other. “Expecto Patronum!” He yelled. The thestral burst from the end of Hermione’s wand. And the dementors retreated. He looked around, but couldn’t see her. “Hermione,” he hissed, as the branches swung hither and thither.

He heard her scream, and there was a thunk, and he heard her fall.

“Hermione!”

“Down here! Someone’s there!”

Fuck. Draco turned and saw Death Eaters coming down the hill. He got further away from the branches and looked behind him. The charm should be wearing off soon. “Hermione…” he hissed. She must be unconscious. He crouched behind a shrub, hoping that they’d leave before the disillusionment charm wore off of her.

The willow ceased its relentless swing.

He heard the Death Eaters. There was at least two of them. Draco peeked through the shrub.

Snape. Snape was there. He turned and ran his hand through his hair.

He tapped his head with Hermione’s wand and removed the charm. Draco took a deep breath and stood. “It’s about bloody time,” he drawled.

The Carrows were there with Snape.

Snape stopped and appeared to be shocked for a fleeting second. “Well, Draco. I did not expect to see you creeping around the grounds.”

“I was chasing that Mudblood…the one with Potter.”

“Here?” Said Amycus.

“Of course, here. Why else would I be here?”

“And she’s here? At the Whomping Willow?” Snape cocked a brow.

“She was in Hogsmeade and I chased her here.” Draco looked at Snape. He eyed him very deliberately, and Snape made no indication that he was going to dispute anything that he said.

The Death Eaters illuminated their wands and started to scan the area. “Did she get away?”

“How should I know?” Draco demanded.

“She’s not here…”

Snape clandestinely looked at Draco. “Let’s get you back to the castle, Draco.”

“In a moment,” he quickly returned.

“And you’re chasing this Mudblood? That’s why you left the Manor?” Alecto asked.

“Of course. Perhaps you could make yourself useful and check the forest entrance.”

Alecto glanced at his sister. “I heard that the Dark Lord is looking for you, Draco.”

“I’m on a mission. I haven’t been able to communicate freely. Now, if you could please…” he motioned towards the forest.

Amycus shrugged, and the pair left.

Draco looked at Snape. “Severus…you have to help me.”

“What are you doing here, Draco? It was foolish to come.”

“I had no choice…but first, we have to find Hermione…” and he lit the wand, scanning the area. The charm had to have worn off by now…

“Granger? She’s actually here?”

“She should be…” and then he saw her. She was just forming into view, laying on the ground, and she was unconscious, barely under the branches of the tree.

“Accio,” said Snape, and she was transported to them.

“Hermione,” Draco knelt next to her. There was blood coming from her forehead. “We need to get her to Pomfrey,” he stood, looking at Snape.

“Very well…I’ll send her directly. And then we should speak,” he waved his wand once, Hermione disappeared, then again another time, and his patronus appeared, then pranced up to the hospital wing. “Let’s go,” Snape turned and walked with his quick step up to the castle.

Draco followed him to the headmaster’s office. He was hyper aware of the surroundings, the “feel” of the place. Over conscious and almost paranoid, he was terrified someone would see him. They entered the office, and Snape gestured for Draco to sit. He waved his wand once more. “Now…” he paused. “Explain,” said the headmaster, sitting opposite him.

Draco looked behind him. “I …”

“Not to worry. No one will interrupt. And I explained to Madam Pomfrey about the Granger girl being put in a private section until she is healed,” he leaned forward. “Explain.”

He let out a slow breath. “Has my mother been in contact with you?”

“Narcissa? She sent an owl about a week ago. Very cryptic. Said you had chased Granger from the Manor, and that you might be coming to Hogwarts.”

“That’s not…exactly…what happened. I escaped. Mother and I had been talking about it for months. I’m here to fight.”

Snape sat back. “Fight?”

“You’re against them, Severus. You are still fighting, but you’re staying undercover, is that not so?”

He curled a smirk. “For the sake of argument, let’s say it is. What of it?”

Draco shook his head. “Look, if my mother was wrong, if you’re not on the side of the Order, please just tell me. Then you can kill me.”

“Kill you? Why on earth would I kill you?”

He swallowed. “What side are you on?”

Snape looked away. “I am now, and have been for many, many years, a double agent. But it is my desire that the Dark Lord is defeated, yes.”

“Thank Merlin,” Draco muttered. “Can you help me?”

“What service do you require?” Snape returned his gaze to Draco.

“Well, I need…a wand, for starters.”

He looked at the wand Draco was holding. “And that is…?”

“Hermione’s,” he twirled it. “And I need to get it back to her.”

“Very well. What else?”

“I need cover. Probably here, until the fight arrives. And then I’m going to fight.”

Snape’s eyebrow arched once more. “Anything else?”

“Well, I need to make sure that Granger gets back to Potter and the rest of the Order. But, that’s more on her. I suppose I just want to ensure that she is healed. She’s been through a lot.”

“Why are you here with her?”

Draco swallowed and looked at Snape steadily. “Bella tortured her. My wand was stolen, and I took hers to disapparate from the Manor. I had been looking for my chance to escape for weeks…and I think that Potter believes her to be dead. She was, nearly. But we took a shelter and I helped to heal her. I promised that I’d give her back her wand once we got to Hogwarts. And now we’re here.”

Severus Snape steepled his fingers and eyed Draco. “I’ll help. However, procuring a wand might take a little bit of time. And I would not move the Granger girl for a few days. It’s unfortunate that the Carrows saw you. It will make hiding you here …more complicated.”

“I’ll stay wherever…”

Snape chuckled. “Perhaps the hospital wing?”

“Fine.”

Snape considered this for a moment. “To start, that might work. But I think that the best way to deal with this is to move you around.”

“But I’ll still be here?”

“Yes…”

“All right. Fine. Let’s go,” Draco stood.

Snape then followed suit, and put a disillusionment charm on Draco. “After you…”

Draco left the office and made his way to the hospital wing. He was making long strides, eager to get to a safe place. And also, see if Hermione was going to be okay.

After a fashion, and not really seeing anyone, they climbed the stairs to the hospital wing. Snape brushed passed Draco. “Madam Pomfrey?”

She came out of her office. “Headmaster,” and she canted her head.

Snape pointed his wand at Draco and the charm dissolved. “Madam Pomfrey…Draco Malfoy will be staying here for a few days. He needs to be well hidden. Can you accommodate him?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “He is…?”

“Undercover. Do not concern yourself…he is ….”

“I’m on your side,” Draco interrupted. “I’m just hiding out until there is a real fight.”

She narrowed her gaze, but then nodded. “Very well.”

“One more thing,” Snape said. “What happened with the Granger girl?”

“She is resting. Concussed. I’ve done the standard spells and potions…she should be fine in a day or two.”

Snape nodded. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening to check on you,” he said to Draco, then he left.

Draco turned to Madam Pomfrey. “So…Hermione will be all right?”

“Yes…” there was a question in her answer.

“Good,” he looked around. “Where will I be sleeping?”

She sucked in a thin breath. “I think what I’ll do is curtain off that bed in the corner. There isn’t really a separate room…”

He nodded. “Is Hermione here?”

“She’s in my office. Once she leaves, you can stay there.”

“Can I see her? It won’t take a minute.”

The healer paused, then nodded. She led him back to her office and opened the door.

There was Hermione, ashen faced, asleep. Draco went to her. It hurt to see her like this, but he knew she would be okay. He took her wand and set it on the table next to her cot. Draco turned to Madam Pomfrey. “I don’t have a wand, so can you set the curtains up for me?”

She followed him and conjured curtains. Draco thanked her, then crawled into the bed.

He fell asleep almost instantly.

~*~

The light pieced its way across the room as Draco followed it with his eyes. Morning was soft, and it felt like a balm after the harrowing events of the previous night. Hermione was still asleep, he could hear her steady breath. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. Draco looked out of the window. Hogwarts looked beautiful with spring’s easy start. Being farther north, the blooms were just barely starting to bud.

He wondered when the fight would come. If he would need to move from the school to the actual fight, if the heated fighting would last for days, months…he quailed at the thought of heavy fighting for years.

He got up and went to the loo, and to brush his teeth. He didn’t have any proper clothes…but then he remembered that he had stolen some from his aunt’s, and that Hermione likely had them in that bloody bag of hers.

He went over to her bed and saw the bag next to her on the nightstand. Draco opened it and started to rummage through.

What the fuck did she keep in this thing?

“Draco?”

He stopped and turned. “Hermione,” and he put the bag down and sat next to her. “How are you …?”

“Where am I?”

“Hospital wing.”

“At Hogwarts?” She looked around, trying to sit up.

“Yeah…we made it,” he smiled.

“My head hurts.”

“Well, that’ll happen when you’re hit by the whomping willow.”

She looked at him. And then she started to remember…”Oh…but…how did I end up here?”

“Snape. He happened upon us, along with the Carrows. And he is hiding us here.”

She nodded. “But that’s wonderful news, isn't it? Now you can get a wand, and I …I can…” she swallowed.

“Well, you’ve got your wand. And once your head and arm are seen to, you can get back to Potter.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. Hermione looked at the words on her arm. Ugly thing. It was still inflamed, but not seeping…a bit scabbed over.

Draco was staring at it, and flexed his fist. He had a rush of hatred for Bellatrix. He closed his eyes and looked away.

“What if I stayed?” She whispered, pulling her arm back close to her.

His gaze snapped to hers. “What?”

“What if I stayed here? Just for a bit?”

“And do what?”

“Well, I could…I dunno. Research Horcruxes. Try to sort out where You Know Who hid them…? You could help me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hermione. You need to get to Potter. He’s hopeless without you.”

She nodded. “What if one is here?”

“One what?”

“Horcrux.”

“Here? Dumbledore would have found it…there’s no way. And The Dark Lord hasn’t been here in ages.”

She shrugged. “Yes. You’re probably right.”

He sat back. “How many are left again?”

“We think two. Plus the snake.”

He sighed. “And the Houses… the founders…you think that they have something to do with it, yeah? That he stole items that were theirs?”

Hermione nodded.

“Well, I suppose it isn’t completely bonkers to think that he could have hid one here.”

She smiled. “I’ll stay, maybe just a few days after I’m better…go to the restricted section of the library…”

“The Dark Lord didn’t hide his bloody Horcrux in the damn library, Granger,” he laughed.

She snorted. “No, but that’s where I’d be conducting research, Malfoy.”

He laughed, and nodded.

“I almost hope that he did hide one there,” Hermione added.

“If he did, I’ll …” he looked to the ceiling.

“Kiss me,” and she flushed. It just came out…she hadn’t thought about what she was going to say, it just came out of her mouth. Hermione looked at her lap, playing with the edge of the blanket. “That’d be laugh, wouldn’t it?’ She added softly.

“There’d be nothing funny about that, Hermione,” Draco returned. He swallowed, then stood. “I’ll see if Madam Pomfrey can come and see you and fetch me some coffee,” and he left.