foreword

AB OUT

Draconian was a featured novel under

the Fanfiction genre + the winner of the
Fanfiction Awards 2016. Thank you all
so much for your support.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

S YNOPS IS
Three years ago, the Dark Lord defeated
Harry Potter in the battle of Hogwarts,
forcing Harry and the rest of the Order
members to go into hiding. Desperate to
survive after his mother's betrayal,
Draco Malfoy was forced to kill his way
through the ranks to become the most
lethal, most terrifying Death-Eater,
second-in-command only to the Dark
Lord himself.
Caught in a downward spiral towards
self-loathing and destruction, Draco
jumps at a chance for redemption offered
by his Aunt Andromeda: find Hermione
Granger - the girl he once hated; one
third of the Golden Trio and possibly the
only person who can restore the Order
and end the war.
But when Draco finds Hermione three
years later, he soon realises that she's
none of those things. The bruised,
battered version of Hermione
remembers no one but him and has no
wish to return to the Order. And now
Draco is forced to choose between
sending the magic-less witch back onto
the battlefield to end the war, or doing
whatever it takes to keep her safe in a
world ruled by draconian laws.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

AB OUT
Post Deathly Hallows AU (three years
later); in which -
Harry Potter did not win the Battle of
Hogwarts,
Voldemort + Death-Eaters are still alive,
Dead members of the Order are still
dead,
& the war is still going on.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

D I S C LAI M E R
I own nothing;
every Harry Potter character and
reference is owned by the wonderful JK
Rowling.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

WAR NING

dark themes
harry potter spoilers
sexual themes
swearing
character deaths

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

S T AT US
Writing complete (May - Aug 2015)
Posting complete (May - December
2015)
01 | lumos

01
l umo s
Illuminates the wand tip.

It was one of those dusty, second-hand

patrols he was never supposed to take.
But then Theodore Nott, like the fucking
tosser that he was, apparated home
drunk that night.
Draco was awake - he always was; and
so he heard Theo stumble across the
living room with loud, clumsy footsteps.
Draco let out a muffled curse under his
breath before turning on his side. But
before he could close his eyes, there
came three loud knocks on his door.
Then there was complete silence.
This time, Draco didn't bother to muffle
the swear word that slipped past his
lips. He shuffled out of bed, rearranged
his features into his perennially annoyed
expression and crossed the room to yank
open the door.
"What - " he began, only to pause, eyes
narrowing when he saw Theo
completely passed out on the floor right
in front of him. One look at his friend's
unconscious form and it was clear to see
that he'd far too much to drink.
Nevertheless, he nudged Theo with his
foot just for good measure. "Theo."
Nothing.
"Get up, you lazy wanker."
Still nothing.
Draco swore again when he realised that
Theo was completely hammered.
Fucking great. He stepped over Theo's
sleeping form, making sure to kick him
accidentally on the way, before going
over to the room in the east wing, the
one opposite Theo's. He quickly undid
the silencing charms on the door before
rapping sharply against it.
"Either one of you - head to the Quarry
now. Nott's wasted."
There was a pause from the other side of
the door, followed by certain muffled
whispers and shuffling. Draco knew that
if he listened harder, he'd be able to hear
them talking, but he wasn't sure he
wanted to. He'd regretted it most of the
times he tried, hearing things that planted
images in his head he couldn't ever get
rid of. Not even with Obliviate.
After awhile, the door opened slightly
and he came face to face with a frazzled
Pansy Parkinson wearing nothing but a
black negligee. She stared back
insolently at him for a brief moment
before she shook her head. "Yeah, I don't
think so. We're kind of in the middle of
something here. Blaise just came back
from his patrol and - "
"That's why I said either."
" - I'm tied down," her lips curled in a
smirk as she raised her hands. To
Draco's utter disgust, they were, indeed,
tied together with complicated knots that
could only have been made with magic.
"We've been going all the times Theo's
gotten himself wasted, and Theo has
covered for us the times we couldn't
make it. I personally think it's time for a
change." Her eyes glinted and he knew
what was coming even before she asked.
"Why don't you go?"
"No."
"Then go get Theo - "
"He's dead to the world."
"Too damn bad," she met his gaze
evenly. "Cause Blaise and I aren't
going."
"Fucking fine. No one goes." Draco spun
on his heel and was heading back
towards his room when Pansy's voice
filled the hallway.
"Poor, poor Theo. He's going to get
Crucio'd when the Dark Lord finds out.
All because his best friend won't help
him out. Not even once. Such a shame,
isn't it? And to think, Theo has looked up
to his best friend for so many years, even
to become a horrible Death-Eater,
following in the footsteps of - "
Her words were cut off when Draco
slammed the door shut to his room. But
not a moment later, he came back out
with his wand in hand. Ignoring Pansy,
he went to the coat rack, donned his
Death-Eater robes and slipped on his
mask. Then he apparated out of the
apartment so quickly that Pansy almost
missed it.
"Did he go?"
Pansy turned around to face Blaise, who
had poised the question. "Yes," she
breathed, letting an expression of
disbelief flit across her features briefly
before she headed back to the bed,
slipping under his arm like a mouse
trying to burrow its way home.
"Told you he'd care," Blaise said
triumphantly, tying the frayed ends of the
Pansy's restraints back to the side of the
headboard, before sliding over her in a
movement as easy as breathing.
She smiled and latched her eager lips to
his sweat-glazed neck. "I know he does,"
she murmured fondly against his skin,
"it's just easy to forget, sometimes."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was not surprised to see the

stunned faces of the Death-Eaters when
he got to the Quarry. Everyone had
donned their masks, but the expression in
their eyes was telling. Some looked
awed, but the majority looked scared out
of their wits. He let his cold, hardened
eyes sweep across the lot slowly,
enjoying the squirm he got out of at least
two Death-Eaters, and the shudders of
several others.
Finally, his eyes landed on the sub-head
for the night's patrol, Augustus
Rockwood, who seemed to be on edge
as he stared up at Draco. "G-good to see
you, Malfoy," Rockwood practically
stumbled over his words in an effort to
sound as formal as he could. "I was
expecting Theodore, but - "
"I'm in charge tonight," Draco said flatly,
scanning the group again. "Has everyone
been briefed?"
"Y-yes, sir - "
"Then there will be no room for
mistakes." Draco surveyed the house just
at the edge of the clearing. It looked as
dilapidated as ever, but he knew it was
just a façade. Everything, from the attic
to the cellar and every floor in between
would be swept clean tonight. "Let's
begin."
He took the first step towards the house,
and suddenly there were dusty sounds of
apparitions around him, ahead of him, as
the other Death-Eaters charged on
silently. Draco followed at a more
leisurely pace, taking the time to
mentally curse Theo in his head. If it
wasn't for that drunk bastard, he
would've been - well, he didn't know
what he would be doing, probably stuck
staring up at the ceiling as usual, but it
would've been better than being here
anyway.
Realising that he was lagging behind the
group, Draco quickly apparated to the
basement of the building. He'd been in
here several times before, back when
there were more important leads and this
place had more chances of housing
people worth capturing. But, lately, this
place had been forgotten, like so many
other places he knew.
The place was eerily silent as it always
was, although he'd occasionally hear
creaks from the floorboards echoing in
the silence from the other Death-Eaters.
Draco frowned at the noise, making a
mental note to get Blaise to pass the
feedback to them at a later date. Clunky
footfalls might go unnoticed now, when
he was the head of the patrol; but if the
Dark Lord was leading, a little stealth
might save many lives.
He wandered further into the basement,
silently casing a Lumos spell on his
wand. Then he saw them, the six
refugees - nothing but terrified eyes,
bedraggled clothes and trembling in the
farthest corner of the room. Draco
stepped towards them calmly. They
shrank farther back into the corner; one
of the men spreading his arms out
protectively as though to shield them all
from the killing curse that could slip out
from Draco's wand at any moment.
"Are there any more of you?" Draco
asked instead, eyes sweeping shrewdly
across the small huddled group.
Perhaps if he had not been watching
closely, he would've missed it. But the
youngest of the group, a young boy that
didn't look much older than eight,
slipped. The boy's eyes flickered briefly
to the floorboards on the right, before
snapping back up to Draco. It was such a
small, instinctive action that Draco
almost didn't catch it.
But Draco did, and his grip tightened on
his wand. He narrowed his eyes at the
group and was just about to speak when
someone from behind beat him to it.
"Over here!"
Yaxley. One of the other incompetent
Death-Eaters, and Draco resisted the
urge to let out an annoyed sigh.
Yaxley's eyes brightened at the sight of
the refugees and he grinned, "you know,
the werewolves are quite hungry this
time of year."
The young boy flicked terrified eyes to
Draco but Draco stared back evenly.
"Where're the rest?" He asked Yaxley.
"Making their way down. You sure have
the nose of a bloodhound for these
things, Malfoy, always the first one on
the scent - "
"Shove your flattery up someone else's
arse, Yaxley, I haven't got all bloody
day."
"Y-yes," Yaxley stammered, before
raising his voice to yell at the Death-
Eaters upstairs. "Hurry up!" Without
waiting for the rest, he went over to the
refugees and began to bind them tightly
with his wand. The young boy cried out
in pain as the ropes dug into his skin and
Draco immediately cast a wordless
silencing charm on him. The louder you
resisted, the more it'd hurt. Death-Eaters
simply thrived on fear.
By the time the rest of the group came
swarming in, the look on Draco's face
said it all - he was not happy with their
tardiness. Some shivered at the
frostiness in his expression, while the
rest simply averted their eyes and
quickly did the necessary steps to
transport the captives to the cells in
Godric's Hollow.
"You coming, sir?" Rockwood and the
rest glanced over at him when they were
finished. Draco had been hovering near
the back of the group all this while, and
he quickly snapped to attention when he
realised that they were waiting for him
to give the signal.
"No," said Draco, and he jerked his head
for them to leave. "Get the hell out of
here. I want to do one last scout round
this place."
Some of them gazed up at him in rapt
admiration and Draco began to feel
uncomfortable. He cleared his throat
dryly and immediately, Rockwood and
several others grabbed the prisoners and
drew out their portkeys that would bring
them immediately to Godric's Hollow.
They vanished without another word,
while the rest of lower ranks apparated
themselves back home.
And then Draco was finally alone. He
cast a quick Muffliato around, as well as
a disillusionment charm to make the
basement appear completely empty.
Gripping his wand tight between his
fingers, he stepped forward and tapped
the floorboards with his right foot.
"Is anyone down there?"
There was nothing but silence. Draco
tried to remember where the young boy's
eyes had previously flickered to, and
took another step to the right. He tapped
again with his foot.
"Hello?"
Still nothing. Draco crouched down this
time, rapping the floorboards sharply
with his knuckles.
"Anyone?"
The silence was eerie and ever present.
Draco swore under his breath and stood
up, brushing away the familiar sinking
feeling in his heart as he did. Bloody
kid. He never should've given a second
thought to that young boy. He was
probably just trying to divert his
attention, that's all.
Draco was just about to take a step back
when a sudden, slight sound made him
freeze. It was almost inaudible and he
almost didn't catch it. A quiet, weak cry.
And it came from the direction of the
floorboards he'd been standing on.
Draco whipped round immediately and
crouched down, sliding his palm of his
hand briefly across the floorboards. He
didn't know why he hadn't felt it before,
hadn't felt it ever, but now he did. The
slight tingle of magic, barely there and
would go unnoticed he had been a lesser
wizard. After a quick inspection, he
realised that there were complicated
locking charms on it.
But not complicated enough for him. He
quickly undid them, remembering the
way to redo them just in case. His heart
was racing as he flicked his wand in
haphazard directions. Two of the
floorboards slid open with a weary
groan.
And in the darkness, he finally found her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco could've sworn his heart stopped

beating for a moment or two. There was
a short flight of stairs leading
downwards, and he immediately
descended it. A putrid smell hit him, so
strong he wanted to gag, but he didn't
dare cast a spell to remove it. Not yet, at
least. Not until he could confirm that she
was the only one there.
But she was. After lighting his wand and
glancing quickly around, he realised that
there was no one else but her. She lay
just inches away from the bottom step,
her face flat against the floor, knotted
hair covering her face, dressed in
nothing but tattered rags. He paused,
breath hitching in his throat and braced
himself.
"Granger?"
The figure before him shifted. And then a
tiny sound escaped her lips. "...Draco?"
Draco froze momentarily. It just seemed
so surreal, so easy, and he couldn't
believe it had taken him three years to
finally accomplish this. He quickly
pushed his mask off his face, rushing
down the last few steps before crouching
down next to her.
"Granger." He pushed the hair out of her
face, inhaling sharply when he finally
saw her. "Fuck - "
Her features were almost
unrecognisable, bruised and blistered
beyond belief. One of her eyes was so
bruised it hardly opened, while the other
gazed up at him with barely a slit, the
life in them so dwindled it almost
seemed extinguished.
"Granger."
Her fingers immediately lifted from their
sides, latching onto his arms in a weak
grip. "Draco," she whispered each word
enunciated slowly, like she was having
trouble even remembering how to speak.
"It's - it's really you?"
"Yes, yes, it's me," he rushed out, so
relieved he momentarily forgot the
normal coldness he'd always assumed.
He let out a haggard breath when what
seemed like her lips curled up in a
fleeting smile. Her unbruised eye began
to fall shut and he frantically reached out
to grip her shoulder. "Granger, stay with
me. I need to know when you last saw
someone."
"Can't - can't tell how long it's...been."
"An approximation. I need to know,
Granger."
She shifted slightly, her gritty fingers
sliding across her abdomen with slow,
painful movements before landing on her
rib. "This is...this was the last one - "
Draco didn't need any other
explanations. He drew his wand over
her ribs and prodded it, grimacing when
he heard her whimper in pain. "Sorry,"
he grunted before doing a mental
calculation in her head. Two weeks and
counting. She'd gotten this injury for
awhile now.
So it was safe. She was safe now.
He lowered his head. "Just relax," he
whispered, and reached for her hand,
apparating the both of them back home.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
It was ridiculous to take Hermione
Granger to St. Mungo's, even though
Draco knew that it was possibly the best
decision. But it was also the stupidest
decision, since the hospital was often
infiltrated by Death-Eaters, who wanted
to capture surviving members of the
Order.
The safest place was still the apartment
he shared with Theo, Pansy and Blaise.
The only problem was keeping her away
from them, and he didn't know how long
that was going to take.
When Draco apparated back into the flat
with Hermione in his arms, he
immediately rushed into his room. With
his wand, he cast a silencing charm,
sealing his door shut with intricate
locks. She seemed startled, but he
quickly pressed his finger to his lip. She
seemed to calm down, but her fingers
twitched, her arm lifting up slowly as
she seemed to reach for him. There was
nothing else Draco could do except to
head straight for her, stiffening when her
fingers latched around the edge of his
jumper.
"Draco?" She rasped brokenly, his name
a tired slur on her tongue. It seemed to
take a herculean effort each time she
spoke. "Is it - is it really you?"
Draco jaw clenched. "Yes, it's me," he
murmured lowly, "but you have to keep
quiet because no one knows you're
here."
With a huge effort, she nodded once and
tried to curl her lips to smile at him.
Draco flinched at the sight and stood up,
but the moment he did, her fingers
tightened their grip around the edge of
his jumper.
"Don't go," she gasped, her unbruised
eye widening in fear again. There was a
slight unhinged look on her face, sheer
panic and painful desperation. "Please,
please don't - don't leave me - "
He shoved away the tightening feeling in
his chest and gazed down at her, trying to
avoid the rough scars and blisters on her
body. "I'm just going to grab some
healing potions. I'll be back before you
know it." He tried to pull gently away
from her grasp, pausing when she began
to shift, pushing herself up with
agonising movements.
"Then I - I'll come with you - "
"Granger - " A tear trickled out from the
corner of her bruised eye, and he drew
in a shuddering breath. When had he
ever seen Hermione Granger cry before?
That's right - he hadn't. Because
Hermione Granger never cried. "Fuck.
Okay, fine, I'm not going anywhere - just
lie back down."
"Thank you," she whispered, easing
herself back down. But her fingers were
still tight on his jumper and he knew he'd
feel wretched if he tried to pull away
again. Her face relaxed, but she kept one
eye on him, and he tried to meet her gaze
without flinching.
"I'm going to cast some healing spells on
you now," he told her quietly. "Just lie
still and try not to make a sound."
She barely managed a nod, eye still
staring fixedly at him. He promptly
began, his wand taking a quick tour
around her face, quickly determining the
cause of each injury. He wasn't a healer
by any means, but he knew the basics.
Soon enough, her features were
marginally better, save for certain
swellings he knew would take time to go
down, and the scars he knew wouldn't.
Her face was still scattered with deep
bruises, though, and if he weren't looking
closely enough, he honestly didn't think
he could recognise her at all.
Once done with her face, arms and legs -
the parts of her body that were exposed,
he drew back and scanned her briefly.
Her hair was still terribly knotted; she
reeked of rotting flesh and everything
grotesque, despite his previous attempt
to Scourgify the dirtiest parts of her
body.
"Any internal injuries?" He asked,
meeting her gaze and realising that she
had been watching him all this while,
without making a sound. "Does it hurt
anywhere else?"
Her free hand, the one that hadn't latched
onto him, drew over her abdomen and
she pointed to various spots. With his
wand, Draco detected broken ribs, and
he healed them silently, trying not to
flinch when she whimpered in pain.
"Better?" She nodded. "You still have to
take some potions to heal the rest of it.
Let me know if you feel anymore
discomfort."
She shook her head, but tears seemed to
prick the corner of her eyes and before
he knew it, she was crying. Draco
immediately tensed, casting another
muffling charm, just in case. "Fuck. What
did I say?"
"No - I just," she shuddered, passing her
free hand across her eyes with tired
movements. She was crying for reasons
he would never understand - that much
he knew. And frankly, he wasn't sure if
he wanted to understand either.
Stifling a sigh, Draco stood up, pausing
when she her fingers tightened on his
jumper again. "I'm going to get you some
clothes," he met her gaze squarely. "You
should take a bath."
She nodded mutely and pushed herself
off the bed. He tried to ignore the fact
that she never actually did let him go,
shadowing him closely has he went to
the wardrobe and pulled out an arbitrary
shirt and boxer shorts. And even when
he went into the bathroom, flipped on the
lights and drew the bath with his wand,
she still hovered behind him, reluctant to
release her grip on him.
Draco spun round and tried to pry her
fingers off his jumper. "You should - " he
sighed when she let out a fearful
whimper, staring up at him with
desperate brown eyes. "Granger, I'm not
going anywhere."
"I-I know, I just - " her eyes swam with
unshed tears and he mentally kicked
himself for making her cry again, even
though it had been completely
unintentional.
He manoeuvred them so that he was
sitting on the closed lid of the toilet,
before drawing back the curtain and
waving her in. "I'll be right out here."
Letting out a shaky breath, Hermione let
go of him at last, and stepped towards
the tub. Just before she got in, she threw
another glance over her shoulder at him.
Draco nodded. She climbed into the tub
and he began to tug the curtain close but
her muffled cry stopped him.
"Please don't. I-I need to - " she seemed
to force the words past her lips. "I need
to know you're there."
Draco sighed quietly and turned, so that
his back was facing the tub. He couldn't
see her, but she could see him. "Better?"
"Yes."
A moment later, he heard the sloshing
sounds of water against the tub,
accompanied by her stifled whimpers as
she tried to clean herself. A part of him
wanted to help but - no, he'd already
done far too much tonight. Gone far
beyond his call of duty and what for?
Just to ease saint Potter's guilt.
Well, that and his own too.
02 | rennervate

02
r enner vate
Awakens victim.

When Hermione was finally done -

which took a bloody long while, if he
was being honest - he waited until he
could feel her hovering behind him
again, her fingers latching onto the
sleeve of his jumper.
"You done?" He still didn't dare turn
around.
"Y-yes," she breathed, and he tensed as
he felt her breath a mere distance away
from the nape of his neck. He stood up
quickly, easing back from her when he
realised that she was standing far too
close to him.
She followed him out, and he cast a
quick Scourgify to cleanse the filth and
grime from his bed, before gesturing for
her to sit. He stood while she sat, but her
fingers never left him.
"Are you hungry?"
She shook her head. And then there was
nothing else for him to say. His mind
swarmed with questions, but all these
could wait till tomorrow.
"Well, sleep then."
She didn't move. With a sigh, he flicked
his wand in the direction of his leather
armchair, and brought it over to him.
Then he settled down in it, pushing it
right next to the bed.
"Go to sleep, Granger."
Seemingly satisfied, Hermione slowly
eased herself back onto the bed. She
drew the covers over herself with slow,
punctuated movements. Then she curled
onto her side, facing him, her fingers
still tight on the edge of his jumper
sleeve, her eyes fixed on his face.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Sleep."
Her lips curved into a faint smile that
lasted for a mere second or two. "Thank
you, Draco," she whispered tiredly and
her eyes fluttered shut.
Hearing his name on her lips was
thoroughly unfamiliar and Draco couldn't
decide whether he liked or hated it. And
he couldn't help but wonder why she
called him that now, when she'd always
referred to him as Malfoy before. The
strangest thing was that she remembered
him, actually remembered him, and
treated him like she had been waiting for
him for a long time now.
Like she had been searching for him just
as much as he had been searching for
her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The nightmares began that very night.

Draco had been drifting fitfully between
the realms of dream and reality, and he'd
just allowed his eyes to fall shut when
her fingers suddenly convulsed on his
sleeve.
The mere movement alone was enough
for him to surge up, grabbing the wand
that he'd left on the nearby table and
staring into the darkness with killer
senses alert. Then his eyes drifted down
when Hermione's fingers tugged on his
sleeve again. Despite the fact that she
had fallen asleep, he was surprised that
she'd kept her fingers fisted tightly, never
letting go once. At least, not that he knew
of.
But then her face contorted in the
darkness, and her eyes shot open. And
Draco had mere seconds to cast a quick
Muffliato around the room before he was
engulfed by terrified screaming.
He'd heard a lot of screams before. But
none had ever sounded as terrifying as
hers did.
Hermione began to thrash frantically on
the bed. Some of her healed wounds
started to bleed again as she knocked
them against the headboard, or the wall.
Her hands reached out to hit at an
imaginary person and she bared her
teeth, bracing herself for an attack as her
subconscious conjured up her abductor.
Draco immediately sprang into action.
Setting his wand aside, he hurled himself
on the bed and gripped her arms tightly,
swearing when she screamed even
louder and kicked him right in the gut.
"Granger. Granger, shut up!"
She didn't hear him. She choked and
sobbed hysterically. And when her arm
rose, he caught a glimpse of a familiar
scar that had plagued him for nights back
when the war had first begun.

M UD B LO O D

The words that Bellatrix had carved into

her skin were faded but ever present, a
stark contrast to her other scars and
bruises, and he felt a shiver dash down
his spine. Merlin, he hated himself for it
and hated himself more now that he had
seen it.
But then her screams shook him out of
his guilt-ridden reverie and he gazed
down at her, flinching when one of her
nails caught his cheek, her nail slicing
clean off a bit of flesh. Where had she
learnt to fight like that? And under what
circumstances was she in to be forced to
fight like that?
Draco dragged her arms down to his
side and firmly straddled her, leaving
her with no opportunity to kick at him
with her legs. "Granger," he pinned her
arms with his knees, reaching forward
with his palms to slap lightly at her face.
"Fucking wake up! Wake up!"
He had to hit her for several more times
before her thrashing ceased. She
blinked, a shade of sanity slipping back
into her vacant expression before her
eyes latched onto his. "Draco?"
"Yes, it's me."
Her face crumpled with relief. "I-I - "
"You had a nightmare. It's over now," he
said flatly, before getting off her. He
grabbed his wand and began to mend her
injuries, trying not to seem affected as
she began to cry. The moment he was
within reach of her, she reached out and
grasped him again, fingers latching
easily onto his sleeve.
"I'm so sorry," she choked, gazing up at
him with familiar brown eyes. The eyes
he'd always had haunting visions of, the
eyes that had quickly become a fixture of
his every nightmare and every pleasant
dream. She reached up with the other
hand for his face. "I-I'm so sorry I hurt
you. I didn't - I didn't mean to."
Draco found himself automatically
leaning down to her. It seemed almost
trance-like, her hand seemed to have a
magnetic pull that gravitated him down
to her. But then he froze before flinching
away, settling safely down in his leather
armchair again. "It's fine," he muttered,
shaking his head in a vain attempt to
assure her. "Go back to sleep. I'll get
sleeping draughts for you tomorrow."
She nodded, staring up at him with all
the apology in the world when it
should've been him staring at her that
way. Sliding her fingers past the sleeve
of his jumper, she slipped them onto his
palm instead, curling round and gripping
his hand tight. Then she turned on her
side - towards him, always towards him
-tucked their hands just next to her
cheek, and closed her eyes.
Draco tried not to jump away. Instead,
he spent the rest of the night relishing the
pain she'd given him - the scratch on his
cheek, the kick in his gut - and trying his
best to tune out her soft sobs, and the
way her tears left unforgiving stains on
his hand.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When Hermione awoke the next

morning, the room was empty. She
blinked for several long moments, trying
to familiarise herself with the place that
appeared completely foreign to her, but
also had a fleeting semblance of
familiarity that seemed to have been
from a dream long ago. Her eyes
flickered to the side. Saw the vacated
leather armchair.
And, suddenly, everything was real.
With a horrified gasp, she shot up,
ignoring the painful tremors that
wracked through her body. Because
Draco was not here, Draco was gone.
Draco had left.
His name was the only thing that was
pulsating in her veins and swamping her
mind. She choked back a sob and
stumbled out of the bed. Her legs
immediately gave way and she collapsed
onto the floor, but still she pushed
herself towards the door.
"Draco," she gasped weakly, ignoring
the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Bringing her fists up, she reached for the
doorknob, but found herself unable to
grasp it. So she pounded against the
door, clamping down on the hysteria that
threatened to rise through her, but it was
too late, it was far too late. "Draco,
Draco - "
The door clicked open and she was
shoved to the side as a familiar figure
slid in. And then she saw him - every bit
of his face that she had yearned for; his
snowy hair falling into his eyes, the
elegant refined cheekbones and slope of
his nose, and the hard line of his lips that
could never, ever seem cruel to her.
His warm silver eyes flickered towards
her, and they widened. "For Merlin's
sake," Draco swore, immediately
directing the tray over to the table with a
hand before casting a quick Muffliato
around the room. Then he slammed the
door shut and knelt down beside her.
"What are you - "
But he never managed to finish the
sentence, because Hermione had
practically thrown herself into his arms.
She could feel him tense; arms freeze
awkwardly by his side as she fisted his
jumper between her fragile fingers and
sobbed openly into his chest.
She thought she had lost him again, you
see. She really thought she had.
"Granger." She revelled in his harsh
breaths that tickled the tiny hairs on her
forehead, because it made her feel alive.
"You thought I fucking up and left, didn't
you?"
When she didn't answer and continued to
sob, more silently this time, he sighed
and picked her up. She could feel him
place his arms gingerly around her,
looping them around her knees and
behind her back. Then he was crossing
the room, laying her down gently on the
bed. Hermione stared up at him and tried
to convey how sorry she was without
words. Because words just didn't come
easy to her anymore.
"I didn't leave," Draco said quietly,
settling down on the leather chair. His
eyes flickered down to where she kept a
firm grip on his arm, and she tightened
her fingers further. "I just went to get
some food and medicine for you. I
wouldn't leave, Granger, this is my
place."
Her eyes widened and she suddenly felt
her windpipe clog. "M-Malfoy Manor?
We-we're in - "
"No. We're in London." He didn't seem
to be able to meet her eyes and
Hermione wondered if he was feeling
guilty. She wished he wouldn't. "This
place - it's a shared apartment, so you'll
have to be quiet at all times."
"Shared?" Hermione rasped weakly,
struggling to sit up when he lifted a hand,
bringing the tray over. Her stomach
immediately rumbled at the sight of food
- a questionable looking brown porridge
that smelled a little bit funny, but she
couldn't complain.
Draco sighed. "Theodore Nott, Pansy
Parkinson and Blaise Zabini all live
here," his silver eyes studied her
solemnly, seeming to gauge her
expression but Hermione was silent.
Their names were but vague, almost
non-existent inklings to her and she
could hardly even remember how they
looked like. She'd forgotten so many
faces since then.
"I mean it, Granger," Draco pressed,
when she didn't say anything. "You can't
make a noise. They're all Death-Eaters
like me. If anyone of them knows - "
"They wouldn't," she swore quickly,
hardly wanting to contemplate the
alternative. Of being sent back.
Wherever. Without him. Her grip
instinctively tightened on his arm and
she dug her nails into him. "I-I will be
quiet, I promise, just please don't - "
Leave me, she wanted to finish, but he
had cut in before she could. "How're
your bruises today?"
"Better," she tried to smile at him but her
lips ached and she could feel one of the
healed seams splitting if she stretched
her lips too much. Draco immediately
noticed and with a wave of his wand, the
flaming wound ceased to hurt. "Thank
you."
"And your ribs?"
"They're okay." They weren't. But she
didn't want him to worry, not when he
had already done so much for her. She
tried to sit up to show him that she was
fine, but winced when her ribs began to
ache.
His gaze narrowed. Without another
word, he flicked his wand and her shirt
rose up slightly. Hermione immediately
drew her free arm around her abdomen
to hide the ugly bruises and scars. But
with another flick of his wand, her arm
was back by her side.
"You've gotten better at this," she
murmured tiredly, lips curling in soft
amusement and awe. Mostly awe. The
last time they had met, her skills far
surpassed his. Now, she wasn't even
sure if she could remember how to use
magic anymore. And he seemed like a
first-rate wizard to her, who knew
wordless magic and wandless magic and
had a heart of gold.
"Practice," Draco returned simply,
touching the tip of his wand to her
bruises.
A soft blue glow flickered against her
skin and instantly, the raging tremors
inside ceased. She sighed in relief.
There were still several other sources of
discomfort that she desperately wanted
healed. But she didn't want him to worry,
nor did she want him to leave her side to
find potions to help her.
"Now drink these," he directed,
levitating the tray just above her and
pointing to the small phials on it.
Hermione reached up with her free arm
and took one of the phials. But to pop the
cap off required both hands and she
didn't want to let go of Draco. She tried
to remove the cap with one hand instead.
Draco sighed, this time sounding far less
tired and more amused. Grabbing the
tray, he set it on his lap and uncapped the
phial before handing it to her. Hermione
quietly drank. She drank them all without
saying a word, even though some tasted
horrible. But nothing as horrible as she
had experienced thus far, so she couldn't
complain. She would never complain.
She ate the porridge obediently, the
spoon in her hand and the bowl resting
in his. He waited patiently for her to
finish every bit of it, easing her back into
the bed and drawing the covers over her
merely by with a wave of his hands.
She watched him without a sound,
studying his face and finding solace in
the fact that she'd remembered him fairly
well. The war had obviously not been
kind to him, if the bags under his eyes
were any indication. But he'd certainly
grown into his features - a stronger
jawline, broader shoulders and the
distinguished, aristocratic air that made
him unmistakable. She could find his
face in a million others, she was sure of
it.
"Granger," she hadn't realised he was
speaking until he frowned.
Blinking, she shook the thoughts from her
head and focused on him. "Yes?"
"I said - you have to let me go,
sometimes."
She went rigid at his words.
"I'm not going to leave," he hastened to
assure her. "But I have to be at work and
I have other obligations to fulfil. From
eight to eight, sometimes later. You
understand, don't you?"
Tears sprung to her eyes. She
understood, she really did, and she didn't
want to be such a burden on him. But it
was just so so difficult. She couldn't
imagine being alone again, with nothing
but the walls closing in on her and her
thoughts pushing their way out from
within.
"Granger?"
She swallowed and tried to focus on his
voice but their voices were getting
louder and louder. And she could hear it
all, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio...
"Fuck. Granger," her eyes flew open
when she felt a familiar warmth grip her
shoulders. She hadn't even realised her
eyes were closed. "Look at me," he
whispered harshly, his silvery gaze
pinning her down. She nodded and felt
their voices fade as she stared up at him.
"I will not leave you. Not again. I will
always come back for you. And even if
I'm late, you must remember that you're
safe here. You understand?"
Somehow, that word seemed flimsy with
the prospect of the war going around
them. But she latched onto it all the same
and felt a warmth spread through her as
she repeated the word in her head.
"Safe?"
"Yes, safe," he repeated firmly, even
though it seemed like he was trying to
convince himself just as much as her.
After hesitating for a moment, he
reached up. His fingers clasped around a
chain she hadn't even realised he had,
and pulled it over his neck, handing it to
her. "See this?"
She took it wordlessly, even though his
fingers seemed reluctant to let it go. The
chain was a thin, almost inconspicuous
silver that held strong and unbreakable.
There were three tiny sturdy silver
phials hanging at the bottom. They hardly
weighed anything at all.
"These phials hold memories," Draco
said quietly. "Memories belonging to
Snape, my mother and my father
respectively. I've viewed two of them,
except for my father's."
Hermione's eyes flickered to his. She
noticed the pain behind his shuttered
expression, behind the indifferent
demeanour that he believed he'd
perfected so well. But she was an expert
at pain, and she saw it all, clear as the
bright morning sun.
Draco reached forward and undid the
clasp. He pulled out the phial belonging
that held his father's memories, and held
it out to Hermione. "Keep this."
Hermione held her breath. She knew
how much it meant to him. "What?"
"You keep this. Because it's the only one
I haven't viewed yet, and I'll have to
come back for it. So you don't have to
worry about me leaving forever."
Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes again,
but these were hardly devastated ones. A
shudder wracked through her and she
had never felt happier before. She didn't
even recall ever feeling happy before
this. Clutching the phial tight against her
chest, she squeezed her eyes shut for a
brief moment before opening them again.
She realised that he was watching her
carefully, a sombre expression on his
face.
"Thank you," she whispered and smiled
tiredly at him.
He nodded and slipped the chain around
his neck again. Then he leaned back
against the armchair, but didn't bother
pulling his hand back from her. "Go to
sleep, Granger. I'm off work for the rest
of the day, and I'll be here when you
wake up."
She choked back a grateful sob and
closed her eyes.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco tried hard not to swear when the

front door slammed shut that evening.
Hermione jolted awake with horrified
eyes, but one look in his direction and
the terror dissipated to a calmer but ever
present fear.
He cast another Muffliato and drew
himself up, shaking his head when she
began to push herself up. "It's Theo and
the others," he told her quietly. "Stay
here. I won't be long." Hermione took a
shuddering breath and he pointed at the
phial still clasped tightly in her other
hand, giving her a firm look. "I still need
that. Don't lose it."
Somewhere in the more rational part of
her brain, Hermione knew that his
demand was just to ease her greatest
fears. She couldn't possibly lose it in
such a short time span. But she focused
on his words nonetheless, and drew the
phial to her chest, turning on her side
and hugging it tightly in her grasp.
I must not lose it, she thought to herself.
She stared fixedly at the silver object,
holding back a whimper when Draco
gently eased away her hand. She tried
not to cry when he headed to the door,
casting another reassuring glance at her
over his shoulder.
He pointed at the phial again and she
nodded.

Draco quickly left, shutting the door

gently behind him and sealing it with his
usual locks. Then he shuffled towards
the living room, pretending like he'd just
gotten out of bed.
"Mate," it was Theo, and he looked
extremely pleased to see him. Leaving
Pansy and Blaise to set the table, he
rushed to Draco and clapped him briefly
on his back, ignoring the way Draco
tensed and flinched away. "Thanks for
last night."
Pansy's eyebrows shot up and she set the
plates down. "What did the two of you
do last night?" She asked suggestively.
Blaise chuckled beside her.
"You know what I meant," Theo scowled
at the couple. "The patrol at the Quarry.
The Dark Lord was happy with the
results, by the way," he told Draco,
before grimacing. "Fuck, did I just use
'the Dark Lord' and 'happy' in the same
bloody sentence?"
"You also shagged Draco last night. So
clearly we are living in a parallel
universe," Blaise commented dryly,
before beckoning them to the table.
"We didn't shag, you little shit. Anyway,
the refugees captured were, apparently,
going to join the Order. So that's six less
members of the Order to worry about -
according to the Dark Lord. Yeah,
Greyback and his cronies are going to
have a wonderful feast tonight," Theo
smirked at the nauseated expression on
Blaise's face, as well as the unsettled
one of Pansy's. Only Draco was
indifferent, as usual, as he scooped the
food that they had brought back onto his
plate.
"Did we learn anything?"
Theo shrugged at Draco's calm question.
"I used Cruciatus on them. Apart from
the fact that they had stayed at the Quarry
for the past week, and were waiting to
be rescued by saint Potter? Nothing.
Unexpectedly silent bunch, including the
kid."
"Did you - "
"Yeah, I erased their memories before
sending them off. At least they won't be
screaming out any secrets when they're
being shredded to bits by werewolves."
"And - that's all for dinner tonight,"
finished Blaise, pushing his plate away
and looking rather green in the face.
"Thanks a lot, Theo."
"You're bloody welcome, Blaise."
Draco watched as Blaise disappeared
into the room he shared with Pansy. He
knew that Blaise had a low threshold for
things like these, which was why being a
Death-Eater proved to be harder for him
than any of the other three of them. Thank
Merlin Draco had mastered a numbing
spell ages ago and had taught it to all of
them. Blaise always had it cast on him,
or cast it on himself, before he went out
for a mission, and it had proved to be
thoroughly effective so far.
In fact, Blaise, Theo and Pansy were all
used it now. It dulled their emotions,
closed them off to other people's hurt,
until they felt nothing but calmness, like
the best kind of aphrodisiac there ever
was. It was only when they removed the
spell after their missions when the guilt
hit, and it hit hard.
Draco knew, because he'd been through
that before. And because the number of
killings he had was more than all three
of theirs combined, the guilt was
crushing when it came all at once.
And so he refused the spell, preferring to
feel the guilt like an aching, tired hole in
his gut that gnawed at him constantly.
Besides, nothing else could ever, ever,
make him feel as guilty as when he
looked at Hermione Granger's face.
Fuck. Granger. He had to get back to her
now.
"Draco?"
Pansy's voice shook him from his
thoughts, and he glanced over at her. She
was already sitting at the table and
eating with Theo. She stared at him, her
gaze shrewd. Out of the three, Pansy was
the one he had to worry about the most
when it came to hiding Hermione.
Nothing ever escaped her eyes.
"What?"
She shook her head at him. "I asked, how
are you feeling? You said you couldn't
come to work today and when I told the
Dark Lord, he seemed rather worried."
Theo sputtered dramatically on his food.
"First pleased, and now worried? Could
this be the day? Could the Dark Lord
actually be showing actual, human
emotions?"
"I suppose so, especially when it comes
to his favourite Death-Eater," Pansy
smirked knowingly at Draco. "He even
Crucio'd Theo because it was Theo's
mission and you had to cover for him.
The Dark Lord thought last night's trip
made you ill."
Draco's eyes flickered to Theo, but Theo
shrugged. "One Cruciatus curse. It was
fine, mate, serves me right for getting
drunk."
But the tired, aching hole in Draco's gut
gnawed at him again and he cast a frosty
glare at Pansy. "I told you or Blaise to
go."
"I know," and now Pansy sounded
contrite. She reached over at pulled
Theo into a quick hug. "Sorry, Theo, and
I apologise on Blaise's behalf. I'll make
it up to you somehow."
"You could take those twins out," Theo
smirked suggestively at Pansy, who
glared evenly back at him, crossing her
arms protectively over her chest.
"Sure, let me just tell Blaise first.
Blaise, baby?"
"Alright, alright, nevermind," Theo
scowled in defeat, knowing when he
was well and truly beaten. "Keep your
bloody knickers on, woman - unless
you're not wearing any."
"Blaise, baby, would you come out here
please?"
Draco ignored the chatter before him and
finished heaping his plate with food -
making sure to take more than his usual
but not too much to raise suspicions. He
turned to return to his room, but was
stopped when Pansy called his name.
"Aren't you going to eat out here with
us?"
"Still feel like shit," Draco mumbled and
headed quickly back into his room.
Theo and Pansy exchanged glances.
Pansy's was weary. Theo was simply
confused. "You think he's really ill?"
"Of course not," Pansy returned
promptly, and picked up her fork. "I
think it gets too much for him some days.
Today's one of those days."
"Hopefully he doesn't die on us," Theo
tried to sound cavalier, but Pansy could
hear the tremor in his voice. And she
knew better than anyone that if Draco
ever did die, Theo would be the most
wrecked up about it.
"He wouldn't," she said, more
confidently than she really felt. "He's got
a reason to live. We all do."
03 | muffliato

03
muffl i a to
Muffles sound.

Draco returned to the bedroom, only to

find that his presence had been clearly
and sorely missed. Hermione's eyes
were bloodshot in her attempt to keep
from crying, but clearly it wasn't
working because her shoulders were
shaking as she curled in a foetal
position, clasping her hands tightly
together in front of her chest. She was
murmuring to herself silently, her lips
were moving but there was no sound.
When Draco shut the door, she
immediately glanced over, relief visibly
washing over her face. He pressed a
finger to his lips and she nodded
fervently, pressing the back of her hand
to her lips to stifle the sobs. Still, it
wasn't good enough and he cast a
Muffliato again, because the charm wore
off from time to time and he didn't want
to take any chances.
He went over and settled down in the
leather armchair. He didn't even flinch
when she took the sleeve of his jumper
and pushed herself upright, lifting her
other hand towards him.
"I-I kept it for you," she whispered,
smiling weakly as she opened her palm
to reveal the tiny phial. "I kept it safe."
Draco nodded and took it from her,
slipping it into the pocket of his
sweatpants. "Here," he held out the plate
to her. "Eat as much as you can."
She picked up the spoon hesitantly, still
keeping her other hand on his sleeve.
"What a-about you?"
"There's more food outside, I'll get it in
awhile."
Her eyes widened, her fingers tensed on
him. "No. We can share. Please."
Draco met her hazel-coloured eyes, felt
guilt kick in, and nodded. "Fine. But you
have to eat until you're properly full."
Hermione nodded eagerly and picked up
the spoon, digging into the food.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Later that night, Draco eased himself

away from Hermione's grasp. He picked
up the telephone from his bedside
drawer, magically lengthened the cord
and dragged it into the bathroom. Once
the door was closed and the muffling
spell cast, he leaned against the counter
and dialled a familiar number, one that
he had called so many times before.
After exactly three rings, the other
person picked up. "Password, please."
"Dromeda, it's me."
"Oh," Andromeda Tonks sounded
relieved and far happier. Then she asked
worriedly, "Draco, is anything the
matter?"
"I found her."
A startled pause.
"What?"
"I found Granger," he said lowly,
wincing when he heard her joyous gasp.
"Don't tell anyone about it - you
understand what we talked about
before."
"Yes - of course, I...are they true?"
"She is - " Draco trailed off, hardly
wanting to worry his aunt but not
wanting to undermine Hermione's
injuries either. He didn't want
Andromeda happily whisking Hermione
off to saint Potter. Not just yet. " - she
isn't well."
Andromeda let out a long sigh from the
other end. "I feared so. But she is finally
safe with you now. Draco, this is
marvellous and I am so proud of you - "
"Save the sentiment for some other time,
Dromeda," Draco sniped and he could
hear his aunt let out a soft chuckle of
amusement. "I'm in a bit of a spot right
now. You remember that house in the
Quarry?"
"Yes, the place you searched for ages
some months back. Did you find her
there?"
"Along with six other refugees -
"Are they - "
" - Greyback and his werewolves
finished them off," Draco said shortly,
ignoring the whimper that left his aunt's
lips. "Granger was in a secret room
below the basement. Her most recent
injuries are a month old, but the refugees
were only there for a week or so. I'm
suspecting that whoever kept her there
does check up on her. I made a mistake
when I took her away right on the night I
was patrolling - "
"You need a cover," Andromeda finished
sombrely. "I understand."
"Preferably some traitor of the Order,
maybe one whose mind's been fucked
with or Imperiused so he can't weave a
proper alibi. And keep in mind that the
time frame can't be either yesterday or
today. I can't have anyone pinning their
bloody suspicions on me."
"Yes, of course, I'll get someone to see
to it."
But there was a pause, and Draco knew
that his Aunt was wrecking herself with
newfound guilt. "Dromeda, this is on me.
My mistake. You're just doing what you
have to do so you can save me. And
Granger."
"Yes - yes, you and Granger, of
course..."
"One scapegoat in exchange for Potter's
best friend. Sounds like a bloody good
deal, so cheer up, 'Dromeda."
Andromeda laughed now and Draco was
suddenly reminded of how similar she
sounded to his mother. Their laughs
were similar; the same pleasant, rich
tones. "Oh, Draco, you do know how to
humour your old Aunt."
"One of my many talents. Gotta ring off
now. Keep this between us, will you?
I'm afraid the bloody Order isn't ready to
know about this yet."
"Yes, I understand - and you're right,
they're not. Thank you for finding
Hermione, and please take good care of
her."
Guilt seized his chest again. "You don't
have to remind me."
"Well, you know me, I'm an old nag that
way. And Draco?"
"Stay safe?"
"Always."
In spite of himself, Draco smirked
briefly in the dark. "You too," he said,
and rang off. He paused and leaned
against the bathroom counter for a
moment. When he stared into the mirror,
he almost winced at the exhausted-
looking bruises under his eyes. He
couldn't remember the last time he had a
good sleep.
Then again, there was a war raging on.
And during a war, hardly anyone ever
slept.
With a sigh, Draco pushed himself off
the counter and went back to the bed,
only to find Granger in a sitting position.
She was sobbing silently with her knees
pulled to her chest and he mentally
kicked himself for not coming out
sooner.
"Granger."
At the sound of her voice, her head
snapped up and she immediately lunged
towards him. Only her legs were weak
and she almost sprawled ungainly onto
the ground. Draco immediately caught
her before she could fall off the bed,
dropping the telephone in the process so
that he could wrap his arms around her
to break the fall. It crashed onto the floor
but he hardly cared, because the muffling
charms he'd placed earlier were strong
enough to hold.
"I-I'm sorry," she sobbed, clutching
desperately onto the thin white shirt he
wore. He knew that there'd be crinkles
because of her tight grip, but right now,
that was the least of his problems. "I
didn't mean to - to cry, but I just - "
"Not your fault, Granger." Draco lifted
her up easily and eased her back down
onto the bed. He drew the covers over
her with a flick of his wrist again,
settling down onto the armchair beside
her. But she didn't sleep. Instead, she
simply stared up at him with fearful
eyes; fear not directed at him, but by the
thoughts that probably plagued her all
the time.
"Nightmare?"
She nodded, slipping her hand into his
again and pressing it against her cheek.
He tried to ignore the warmth of her skin
and her shallow breaths on his skin,
dangerously delicious as that felt. "This
one wasn't - wasn't too bad - it was
just... sad, so I woke up crying. I-I have
plenty others, some more...horrifying
than others but always centered around -
around the same person."
Draco tried to resist, but curiosity killed
the cat.
"Who?"
She looked taken aback for a moment.
Then she cast her eyes down, shifting her
head back onto the pillow and staring
fixedly at their interlaced hands. And
when she spoke, her voice was so soft
he almost didn't catch it.
"You."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco stood next to the Dark Lord the

next day, watching blankly as the Dark
Lord marked several new Death-Eaters.
Most of them hardly looked a day over
eighteen. Some looked terrified, others
smirking with joy.
Walden MacNair stood at the Dark
Lord's other side, reading out loud from
a book of regulations that Draco had
made awhile ago. Regulations that kept
all the Death-Eaters in line and aided the
Dark Lord in all his conquests around
the world, enforcing only the strictest
sort of security and the most painful of
punishments to whomever disobeyed.
Bellatrix stood beside Draco, letting out
cackles of laughter at the new recruits.
Draco had cast a calming charm on her
that morning, because he wasn't sure if
the Dark Lord would appreciate her
antics of insanity on such a formal
occasion such as this. So she was silent,
save for the maniacal laughter that
spilled from her lips every so often. It
annoyed the hell out of Draco, but it was
better than watching Bellatrix lick the
blood of prisoners off her wand.
Draco tuned her out; letting his mind
drift to the conversation he and
Hermione had just the previous night.
His jaw clenched as he remembered
how she told him that he was the fixture
of every nightmare - horrifying or
devastating - that she had whenever she
closed her eyes.
"No, don't - don't take this the wrong
way!" Hermione had said, right when he
began to draw back from her. "P-please
listen. You are never, never evil in my
dreams."
Draco had paused, hardly wanting to
meet her eyes.
Hermione simply grasped his hand
tightly. "You are always good, Draco."
He lifted his eyes to hers unsurely and
she smiled, in spite of the split lip,
which he hastily grabbed his wand to
heal.
"You are always, always good," she
pressed her cheek against his hand and
let her eyes fall shut.
And he had watched her fall asleep,
watched as the furrow between her
eyebrows eased off and vanished.
Watched the slow rise and fall of her
shoulders. Watched her mumble slurred
words in her sleep and, every so often,
his name.
Draco was pulled out of his little reverie
when Bellatrix's laugh interrupted him.
And when she cackled again, Draco hit
her with a silencing charm. And then she
was laughing to herself noiselessly. The
Dark Lord glanced over his shoulder at
Draco, who simply shrugged.
"It wasn't a fucking comedy, my lord."
The Dark Lord lips curled in what
seemed like a smirk of amusement,
satisfaction evident in his eyes. As
MacNair resumed his reading, the Dark
Lord continued to put his mark on the
new recruits. There were only three
more to go, and Draco couldn't wait for
it to be over and done with, so he could
rush back home.
To her. To Hermione.
A sudden, muffled whimper slipped past
the lips of the current recruit. And
everyone suddenly froze, the room going
completely silent, focusing on the young
girl who had not held her tongue when
she should have.
The Dark Lord took a step forward,
pinning the recruit with his snake-like
eyes. "What was that?"
"I - " the terror in the girl's eyes
reminded him of Hermione. Thank
Merlin her eyes were a pale blue and not
the shade of hazel that Granger's was. " -
my lord, I - "
"Draco," the Dark Lord glanced at his
right-hand man. "Did you hear that?"
Draco eyes narrowed at the girl. "The
very sound of cowardice, my lord."
"So my ears had not tricked me.
Unfortunately," the Dark Lord paused,
letting the deadly truth sink in as he
stared at the girl, "you have. Draco?"
Draco took several slow steps forward,
and within those moments, he took the
chance to hit the girl with a silent
Impedimenta, rooting her in spot. Then
he used Legilimency on her, letting his
mind quickly absorb her memories
before drawing out the wand from his
pocket. He forced himself to meet her
eyes and knew that he'd see the frozen
terror in them when he closed his eyes
that night.
Then he pointed the tip of his wand to
her heart.
"Avada Kedavra."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione had had a horrible day. Draco

had woken her at seven when he brought
breakfast into the room, and let her hold
his hand while she ate with the other.
After that, he'd told her that she could
read anything she wanted from his vast
library, watch anything she wanted on
the television, and do anything she
fancied, so long as she didn't leave the
room. He placed extra charms on the
door, just in case, and left sandwiches
for her in case he couldn't return in time
for lunch, before making her drink a
sleeping draught.
"Look after this for me," he had told her,
pointing to the phial she was grasping in
her left hand, while her right hand
lingered reluctantly on the sleeve of his
jumper. "I mean it, Granger. This is one
of the most important things to me."
"I will," she promised resolutely, her
voice barely a whisper.
He glanced round the room. She didn't
know if she was overthinking it, but was
he just as reluctant to leave as she was
to see him leave?
After a moment's hesitation, he headed to
his dresser. Hermione followed. He
rummaged through it for awhile before
finding what he wanted. When he leaned
back up, Hermione's eyes widened when
she saw another wand.
"Just in case," he murmured, placing it
gently in her hands, along with a
scribbled piece of paper. "If anything
should happen, tap the phial three times
before saying that incantation. Others
phials like it will heat up and help will
come."
"Other - other phials?"
He surprised her by winking swiftly.
"You're not the only one who knows how
to cast a Protean charm, Granger."
Her eyebrows knitted. "A p-protean
charm?"
Draco's light expression immediately
darkened, and he drew back from her,
studying her face with stormy grey eyes.
"Stay safe, Granger."
She reluctantly let him go, stifling the
tiniest whimper that escaped her lips.
"G-goodb - "
Draco shook his head before she could
finish the word. "I'll see you soon,
Granger."
Hermione remembered his words when
she woke up three hours later. She didn't
know how soon Draco meant, but she
hoped it would be soon.
Without him, her mind started to flood
and she could feel herself losing grip on
her sanity. It wasn't the kind where she
couldn't tell who she was and forgot
everything else; it ran more along the
lines of slow desperation, the kind that
seized her and made her cry
uncontrollably, for reasons she simply
couldn't explain. The kind that made her
physically ache, even though no one was
using the Cruciatus curse on her.
She thought of touching the phial with
her wand. It would light up and he
would return. Draco would return.
Or maybe not. Somewhere in her
subconscious, she remembered that he'd
told her there were other phials. And the
sly glint in his eyes made her realise that
he wasn't talking about the other two he
had with him.
Hermione didn't think she would like
seeing anyone else other than Draco.
When the next hour ticked by and Draco
still didn't return, Hermione let out a raw
sob and hid the clock in the bathroom,
turning on the tap to drown out the
sounds of the ticking. She then grabbed
the jumper he'd carelessly tossed over
the armchair that morning before he'd
changed into his black suit. The green
knitted fabric smelled of him, a faint
citrus and a trace of something else that
was purely him. She clutched it to
herself, inhaling deeply and trying not to
stain it with her tears. His name became
a mantra on her lips as she whispered
the syllables over and over again,
reminding herself that this was how she
had stayed sane all this while.
Sometime later, Hermione heard the
front door click open. She began to cry
again, this time with relief, and half-
crawled, half-dragged herself towards
the door. She tried to stay as silent as
she could, pressing the back of her hand
against her lips to muffle the noises she
made. She still had Draco's phial in one
hand, his jumper in the other.
"Bloody brilliant performance, mate,"
she heard someone say from outside. It
wasn't Draco's voice. "I have to give it
to you. No wonder you're the favourite."
"Pansy, get him a phial, quickly," another
voice directed. This one was calm, and
she felt marginally soothed by the sound
of it.
"Don't rush me - " a feminine voice this
time.
The first voice sniggered. "Is that what
you always do to her in bed, Blaise?"
"Shut up, Theo...so Draco, did you see
anything?"
"Of course I did, why did you think I
rushed back for?"
And Hermione felt a huge weight lifted
off her and she smiled through her tears.
Draco. He was back, he was here. She
pressed her ear against the door, glad
that his muffling charm had begun to
wear off because now she could hear
everything clearly.
"Okay, found it!" Pansy cried, and
Hermione heard faded thuds as Pansy
supposedly ran across the room back to
them.
There was a silence, where all
Hermione heard was the sound of her
own haggard breathing. Then Draco
spoke again, and all the air seemed to
rush back in.
"Take it then."
"Yeah, yeah. I swear to Salazar you're -
"
But Theo's voice suddenly faded out
completely. And then the door clicked
open softly and in stepped Draco. His
silver eyes flickered down to her as he
shut the door behind him. He lowered
himself so that he could get a better look
at her, his lips forming the syllables of
her name. "Granger."
Hermione immediately broke down.
Letting out a strangled sob, she reached
forward to grip the lapels of his suit and
dragged herself towards him. She felt
Draco's arms encircle her, his staggered
breaths against her hair and palms
carefully ghosting her spine in slow,
concentric circles. "Draco," she
whispered, and inhaled shakily, thinking
of nothing else but him. "Draco."
"Yes, it's me, Granger," he murmured. "I
told you I'd see you soon, didn't I?"
"Yes," she smiled through her tears and
thought that she had never felt happier
before. "Yes, you did."
04 | confundo

04
confundo
Produces confusion.

Draco didn't leave Hermione for the rest

of the day except to get dinner. She made
him remove the Muffliato charm so she
could hear the conversation outside,
because just hearing his voice made her
feel a lot calmer and it was the next best
option if she couldn't be by his side.
"Oi, Draco."
Theo. Hermione had quickly learnt to
identify her three neighbours. Their
voices were vaguely familiar - vaguely,
but she had been tortured so much she
couldn't remember clearly anymore.
"You up for a drink tonight? I'll even
introduce you to some of my favourite
slags."
Hermione froze at Theo's offer. Her
breath caught in her throat. "Please don't
go, please don't go, please don't go," she
whispered, pressing her palms flat
against the door. She didn't think she
could handle another few hours without
Draco.
"Theo, could you not make it sound as
though you run an illegal brothel?"
Blaise. Hermione was quick to deduce
that he was more or less the father figure
in this household, even though from what
little she could remember, Blaise was
not much older than she was. "And
Draco's probably going to wallow in his
room, right, mate?"
"Zabini one, Nott zero."
Hermione exhaled in relief.
"Alright, alright, I got it. Just don't be too
hard up on yourself, Draco, you know
that girl was going to be dead either
way."
Hermione froze again.
"Theo - "
"What, Pansy? You know we were all
thinking the same thing. If it wasn't you,
mate, then it'd be any of us. Probably me
- I'd have to drag her down to the bloody
cell and use the Cruciatus on - "
"Shut up, Nott." Draco's voice was
deadly. Hermione heard the sound of a
chair being pushed back roughly, along
with some shuffling sounds.
"You happy now, Theo?" Pansy sounded
exasperated.
"What? What did I say - "
Theo's voice faded out as the muffling
charm was placed. Moments later, the
door slid open. Hermione didn't move,
not even as Draco stepped in and locked
the door behind him. But she
automatically reached for him, and he
obligingly let her catch onto his sleeve.
Draco set the plate of food down a safe
distance away and he sat down beside
her, leaning against the door. His silver
eyes were shuttered in the moonlight that
seeped through the windows.
"Granger, I - "
And then there were simply no words,
because how could you excuse yourself
when you murdered in cold blood?
Hermione jerked alert at the tone of his
voice. She studied his side profile for a
moment, soaking in his defined features,
the high cheekbones and straight nose,
the dim light from outside casting
beautiful shadows against his face.
Carefully, Hermione stole closer to him.
She held her breath as she shifted up on
her knees and reached for him. Not the
sleeve of his jumper this time, but his
face. She let her palm settle against his
skin, felt his warmth beneath her
fingertips. She watched as his eyelids
fluttered shut and he seemed to lean into
her touch involuntarily, letting out a
heavy breath as he did.
"You are a good person," she whispered.
"I believe that."
Draco's eyes opened and she wanted to
cry because they seemed so empty. "I'm
not. None of us here are. What Theo said
- " he swallowed, the next words
seemed so painful to get out. " - that was
true; we do use the Cruciatus curse. We
use every Unforgivable curse, Granger,
and we use it on a daily basis."
Hermione faltered and rested back on
her haunches shakily. "What Theo said -
about the Cr-cruciatus - "
"Not on you," Draco met her gaze
squarely. "Never on you."
"Okay, then."
Hermione felt a wave of relief wash
over her. She could live with that. She
could live with four Death-Eaters who
used the Unforgivables on a daily basis,
because they had never and would never
use it to hurt her. The war had dragged
on for so long and she knew there were
too many shades of grey to simply
dismiss anyone and everyone who did
something bad.
Draco resided in the darkest shade of
grey but to her, he had always been
good. Not from the moment they met, of
course - in the haziest recesses of her
memory, she remembered a snooty good-
looking blond haired boy who taunted
her and tormented her during her school
days. But he'd grown and matured
exponentially since then and during her
days in captivity, his was the face that
she held on to.
Draco was the thread that linked her to
sanity.
"It's alright," Hermione spoke slowly,
trying to keep her phrases strung together
cleanly, without stumbling on her words.
"Draco." His eyes flickered to hers and
she smiled softly. "Whether in my
dreams, or in real life, you are always,
always good. Never forget that."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco woke up when Hermione had

another nightmare that night. Fortunately,
the charms held and her screams were
confined to their room. Her howls of
torment petrified him and made his chest
tighten painfully. Instead of straddling
her this time, Draco tried for something
different.
Grasping tighter onto the hand that held
his despite her constant thrashing, he
reached forward and held the side of her
face with his other hand. "Granger."
"No, please, don't, please, I'll tell you
anything - anything you want, I just
cannot, not right now, I cannot
remember, please, please, don't - "
Draco stared down at her with fear in
his eyes. Hermione was completely
coherent in her dreams, her usual
stuttering fazed out, and she sounded so
much, so much like the girl he had heard
when Bellatrix carved the word
Mudblood on her skin. Back when she
was still lucid and focused on her
mission with Potter and the fucking
Weasel.
But what had happened along the way?
Draco had his suspicions. Hermione had
endured so many months of torturing that
even Bellatrix's words were faded out
with new bruises and scars. But could
months of the Cruciatus curse and
constant torture wipe out her memory
completely?
Or, maybe, something else.
Draco snapped back to attention when
Hermione aimed a particularly nasty
punch to his chest. He quickly gripped
her shoulders and shook her. "Granger,
wake up!"
"Please, please don't, I'm begging you - "
"Granger!"
Hermione's eyes slowly fluttered open,
her breathing slowing gradually. Then
the expression on her face became lucid
as her eyes latched onto him. "Draco?"
"Yes, I'm here."
Her lips curled into a weak smile.
"Thank Merlin." Her hands slid up, and
he stiffened when she cupped his cheeks.
He felt an uncontrollable spasm in his
lower abdomen as she sighed softly, her
breath tickling his skin, and she stroked
his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.
"I - "
"Sleep, Granger."
She nodded. He couldn't quite push
away the feeling of disappointment when
she returned her hands back to her sides,
but her fingers laced through his
nonetheless and she pulled it close to her
chest, turning to lie in a foetal position
again. He returned to the chair, watching
her eyes slowly flutter shut and a dreamy
smile gloss over her lips briefly.
Sweet dreams, Granger.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco kept his eyes and ears alert for

any signals that Granger's missing
presence had been noticed. But there
was none. He figured just as much. He
didn't know who Granger's abductors
were - he'd never managed to figure it
out, even after three years - but he knew
for a fact that the Dark Lord hadn't a
clue, and so this was probably an illegal
job. The Dark Lord would have their
heads if he knew that they had kept and
tortured Granger without letting him
know. Without letting Draco know.
The fucking nerve of those bastards.
Draco felt his fingers curl tighter around
his wand as he thought of that. He gritted
his teeth and hurled another Cruciatus
curse at Maximus Langton, a Death-
Eater gone rogue to join the rebellion.
Only Alecto Carrow had captured him
several days ago, before he could even
properly defect.
The curse hit Maximus like a ten-ton
truck and he writhed on the ground in
agony. Draco knew that it hurt, of course
it did, especially when he had
unconsciously directed his anger at
Hermione's captors to Maximus. He
didn't even hate Maximus, just thought he
was far too stupid to get caught. Fucking
ex-Gryffindors and their tenacity and
their bloody hero complexes. It never
worked out well in a war.
"Please - please stop," rasped one of the
other prisoners. Draco paused, his eyes
flickering over to the person who had
spoke. A weary old man watched them,
his face darkened with bruises and his
eyes almost on the brink of insanity. He
reminded Draco far too much of
Hermione. "I-I'll tell you everything -
everything you need to know."
Draco's eyes narrowed, and he flickered
a glance over at Theo, who was leaning
against the wall and watching them
impassively. "Theo?"
Theo's eyes glinted with amusement and
something like ferocity. But only Draco
caught that. Everyone else saw the look
of death on his face as he strode across
the room with purpose.
"Always so many interruptions..." Theo
muttered, and pointed his wand at the
old man. "Incarcerous."
Ropes slid quickly around the man,
squeezing the life out of him. With
another flick of his wand, Theo dragged
the man across the room and towards an
inner cell. They disappeared out of sight.
And then there was nothing but silence.
Draco let his grey eyes sweep across the
room, landing severely on each and
every one of the prisoners. "You see
what happens when you speak out of
turn? Or," he directed his wand at
Maximus. Impedimenta. Legilimens.
Avada Kedevra. The routine was always
the same, and Maximus fell dead at his
feet, his lifeless eyes still wide open.
"What happens when you don't fucking
speak at all."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was having another horrible

day. Wrapped up in one of Draco's
jumpers - she didn't think he'd mind at
all - with the phial clasped within her
hands, she lay on the bed with tears
staining her cheeks.
The sleeping draught he'd given her that
morning had finally wore off and when
she woke, she had found herself all
alone again. Thankfully, the room
smelled like him, but she was terrified
that she'd forget his voice or his face.
Suddenly, the phial in her hands began to
burn and she leapt up. Brushing her tears
away with the sleeve of her jumper, she
stared at it, watching with a fixed
fascination and a growing dread as tiny
ember words began to glow on it.
Hermione could barely breathe. On the
one hand, this, this was a connection to
Draco. The first connection he'd
established ever since having been away
from her. She didn't know if he had sent
this message, or if someone else had sent
it, but if this phial was glowing then the
rest were too.
But her thoughts were abruptly cut off at
a sudden, unfamiliar sound. She heard
scuffles from outside, and then footfalls
across the living room. Taking a deep
breath, Hermione pushed herself off the
bed and forced herself to keep as quiet
as she could. She edged slowly towards
the door, pressing her ear against it.
"Shit, where the hell is it?"
Pansy.
Hermione felt relief surge through her.
Friend or foe, Pansy Parkinson's voice
was highly welcome. It drowned out
every terrible thought and voice in
Hermione's head, if only for a brief
second.
"I can't bloody believe...on the one day I
forget to bring it - " There were sounds
of her footfalls as she ran into another
room. A distant door slammed shut,
followed by the same, unfamiliar sound.
Then the house was quiet once again.
Hermione stared at the phial in her
hands. The only connection she had to
Draco was already beginning to fade, the
glowing embers dimming down to
nothing.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco apparated back to the apartment at

one sharp. To his greatest annoyance,
Theo, Pansy and Blaise persisted in
following, the sounds of their apparition
sounding just mere seconds after his.
"Draco," Blaise stopped him as he
moved towards the room. His eyebrows
were furrowed as he watched Draco
with a faint glimmer of curiosity. "Don't
you need the phials?"
"What - " Draco began, before realising
what Blaise was referring to. Clenching
his jaw, he swung himself up on the
counter, keeping one surreptitious eye on
his door. He wanted to cast a muffling
spell, but Hermione had told him not to
the previous day, and he figured she
wouldn't want him to today either.
"Hurry up then."
"Stop rushing me," Pansy hollered from
inside the room. Theo sniggered, only to
subside when Blaise shot him an
unamused glance. Clearly, he'd
overheard the exchange the other day
and was not happy with Theo trying to
hit on his girlfriend. "Here," Pansy ran
out a moment later, tossing a phial to
Draco and another to Theo. "We're
running out of phials, by the way."
"I'll get more from the black market,"
Blaise assured her, watching as Draco
and Theo extracted memories and stored
them in the respective phials. "We're
running short of Murtlap tentacles and
Star Grass too."
Draco stiffened when Pansy's eyebrows
shot up. "Since when?"
Blaise shrugged. "Don't know. Only
noticed when I checked the kitchen
yesterday. Who's been using those?"
It was fortunate that Blaise and Pansy
had their backs to Draco. Draco caught
Theo's eye from across the room and
gave a subtle nod. Theo immediately
assumed a nonchalant expression and
steepled his fingers. "Me."
"Well, then, it's on you," Blaise said
calmly. "I'll expect the money on the
counter by tomorrow."
Theo groaned and slowly got up from his
seat, tossing the phial back to Pansy on
the way. "I thought we were a family and
family shares everything."
"What family?"
Theo ignored Pansy's deadly voice and
smirked. "You know - you're the mum,
Blaise's the dad, Draco's the rebellious
kid who locks himself in the room all
day to wank - "
"Fuck you, Theo."
" - and I'm the good-looking, intelligent
kid that mum and dad are so proud of."
There was a silence. And then -
"Did you actually call me a mum?"
Pansy shrieked, looking at Theo with a
murderous glare after having
internalised his words. "Do I look like a
mum to you?"
Her voice hit gravity-defying octaves
and Draco had to resist the urge to hit
her with a silencing charm. Theo
chuckled.
And Blaise simply smirked. "Well,
you're grounded, Theo. Go to your
bloody room and don't come out."
"No, that's what Draco does," Theo said,
with exaggerated patience. "He's the one
who wanks in private, remember?"
Draco growled and pushed himself off
the counter. He was going to have a
bloody headache if he stayed in the same
room as Theo for a moment longer.
"Draco, where're you going?"
"To wank, of course," Theo answered
Blaise's question in a heartbeat.
Draco flipped him off over his shoulder.
The three of them watched as he
disappeared into his room, slamming the
door shut behind him. Then Blaise
turned to Theo, his eyebrows raised.
"Wank, huh?"
Theo shrugged. "Funnier than the
alternative anyway."
They fell silent, each of them taking the
time to let Theo's words sink in. They
knew clearly what the alternative was -
Draco berating himself for every bad
thing he had done and ever would do.
And Draco Malfoy did a lot of bad
things.
In fact, they all did.
"So," Pansy finally broke the silence,
turning to Theo with a challenging glint
in her eyes and hands set firmly on her
hips. "What was that you said about me
being your mum?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco."
Draco barely had time to register the
sight of a flurry of brown hair before he
felt Hermione hurl herself into his arms.
He caught her easily, gripping her firmly
by the waist and hauling her up properly
when she almost stumbled. Her knees
were still weak sometimes, but she
seemed far stronger thanks to the healing
potions he'd made her.
She choked back a sob and buried her
face against his chest. Her fingers fisted
tightly at the lapels of his suit. But she
wasn't sobbing outrageously this time
and he wondered if she was getting
better.
And he wondered why he didn't feel any
better just knowing that she was.
"Do you still have it?" Draco kept one
arm around her waist and held out his
other hand.
Hermione quickly nodded, tears still
brimming in her eyes and smiled. She
opened her hand and he saw the phial,
the edges having made painful red
markings on her palm, clear indications
that she had been holding it too tightly. "I
would never lose it."
"Good." He slipped his arm under her
knees and lifted her quickly. After laying
her back down on his bed, Draco sank
into the chair and let her take his hand.
"Draco?"
He met her wide brown eyes and
upturned lips and, for a moment, saw the
old Hermione Granger staring back at
him. "Yeah?"
She struggled to sit up and he waved his
wand to soothe her ribs when she
winced. "Why do the phials glow?"
Draco froze.
"There - there was a message earlier,"
she scrunched her nose thoughtfully. He
could almost picture the gears whirring
in her head. Rusty as they were, he was
somewhat glad to see them at work
again. "Is that a - a secret message?
Because Pansy came back awhile ago - "
"Granger," he cut her off. He looked
anywhere but at her.
Those bloody phials. He should've just
cast another object with a Protean charm
and linked that to her, instead of these
phials with important memories in them.
But he didn't want to be the only one
who knew of Granger's existence if she
happened to be in danger. If Granger
ever found herself in danger, lighting his
father's phial would alert not just him,
but Pansy, Blaise, Theo and even
Andromeda. If he was unable to come to
her aid, there was always the other four.
Just in case.
"I can't tell you what it means," Draco
said quietly and tried to ignore the faint
trace of disappointment in her eyes. He
felt like a tosser, dismissing what little
she had learnt. It was the first time she'd
taken an interest in learning something
new, and he'd just cast that aside. What
the hell was wrong with him?
"Oh."
"It's not that I don't want to," Draco
couldn't stop the words from slipping
past his lips. "It's just safer that way -
that fewer people know what these
words mean."
"So Pansy, Blaise and...and Theo - "
"Yeah, just the four of us. Granger," he
gripped her hand tightly when she began
to look away. "The more you know, the
more danger you're in. Do you know
why you were tortured?"
Her breathing immediately sped up and
her eyes flew to his in horror. "I-I don't
like to think about it."
"I'm vague on the details, Granger, but I
suspect it was because you knew too
much. About the Order."
And Draco's worst fears were confirmed
when Hermione stared up at him in
confusion and spoke the words that were
a culmination of every bout of torture
and Cruciatus curse she ever had to
endure.
"What's the Order?"
05 | homenum

05
ho me numr e v e l i o
Reveals human presence.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Draco didn't even

realised he'd rammed his fist straight
into the wall until he felt a sharp sting.
When he withdrew, his knuckles were
bloody and he didn't even care. "Fuck."
He cast a quick glance over his shoulder,
feeling relieved when he saw Hermione
still fast asleep. The sleeping draught
and the muffling charm had worked well
on her.
Draco paced the room, his mind racing
rapidly as he tried to rationalise the
situation. He'd been searching for
Hermione for two reasons. The first -
and this was the driving factor, the one
that had him risking his life to begin with
- was that he owed her this much.
He could still remember her screams as
his bloody Aunt tortured her at the
Malfoy Manor. And he'd been forced to
watch it all, all of it, staring at the agony
in her eyes and listening to her desperate
screams until they became a fixture of
the nightmares that haunted him every
night.
So when he first heard from his Aunt
Andromeda that Hermione Granger, one
of the most brilliant witches and one-
third of the Golden Trio, was missing, he
immediately took it upon himself to find
her.
Because no one else did.
Draco didn't understand why. He didn't
understand why it was so damn difficult
to send out a search party every night to
find the one witch who was the best
friend of the Boy Who fucking Lived.
Andromeda told him that it was because
the Order was in a mess.
His lips curled now but it was a smile of
utter bitterness. Of course it was a mess.
After Potter had been defeated, he and
the Weasel had gone into hiding.
Hermione had been snatched away by an
unidentified Dementor. Then the rest of
the Order scattered to save their lives.
It was only about a year-and-a-half ago
that Andromeda told him the Order was
beginning to reassemble. Andromeda
had firmly believed that the return of
Hermione Granger would give them
hope.
Draco didn't buy the nonsensical notion
of hope, but he'd do anything for his
Aunt, who had become his guardian after
his parents were killed. Thank Merlin
Bellatrix was insane and didn't qualify
to be his guardian. Draco didn't know if
he could stand living with the woman
without killing her himself. The only
reason he kept her alive for so long was
because the Dark Lord considered her
his longest ally, even if she wasn't of
much value anymore.
But Hermione and hope somehow no
longer fit into the same sentence,
considering that a large proportion of
her memories seemed completely wiped
out. Like a clean slate; she seemed to
have no memory of the Order, or of the
way he'd treated her in the past, or even
of saint Potter and Weasel.
And much as Draco thought that Potter
and Weasel were a pair of useless fools,
the mere suspicion that Hermione had
forgotten them sent his head reeling with
something akin to despair and
desperation.
The war needed to end.
The four of them in this household (with
the exception of Hermione, who clearly
only possessed vague memories now)
were adamant on that. It was the only
reason why they each continued to live,
in their own various self-destructive
ways. Blaise with his numbing spells
and potions, Pansy with her lethal kinks
in the bedroom, Theo with his slags and
alcohol, Draco with his guilt. They
stayed alive because they had a purpose,
and the purpose was to end the war.
The easiest option was to return
Hermione to Potter, to help ease saint
Potter's fucking guilt and get him past
that pit of self-pity he was wallowing in.
But Draco didn't want to. Not when
Hermione was like this. Not when she
was screaming in the silence, conjuring
imaginary monsters in the dark and
tripping over her sentences. Not when he
hadn't found out the truth behind her
abduction or when he hadn't found out
the truth about her memories.
And not when he wasn't ready to let her
go.
Draco settled down onto his chair with a
sigh, resting forward so that his elbows
were braced on his knees. He stared at
the healing blisters on her skin and the
fading bruises and the traitorous scars.
He stilled when she murmured his name
in her sleep, and instinctively reached
forward and laced his fingers between
hers. She automatically curled hers
tightly around his, and pulled him closer
to her.
Not yet.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The nightmares did not come the next

night. Because Hermione was awoken in
the middle of the night when Draco's
phial began to burn against her chest.
She sat up with a gasp, shifting the phial
in her hands so that her skin was not in
contact with the glowing embers.

LUN A

The word triggered something unusual in

Hermione's head and she felt her breath
hitch in her throat. Luna. Luna. "Luna,"
she whispered in the dark, testing the
syllables out on her tongue. It seemed far
too familiar, like from a distant
daydream she once had.
But Hermione quickly forgot about that
when she caught sight of the glowing
phials on Draco's desk. Draco had took
off the chain and given it to her earlier
that night, so that she could hang it over
her neck instead of grasping it all the
time.
Shuffling forward, Hermione reached
over to the sleeping form beside her on
the leather armchair. She squeezed the
hand she was already holding. "Draco?"
Immediately, his eyes flew open, and the
coldness in his silver eyes made her
shiver. Then he focused on her, and they
softened marginally. "Granger, what's
wrong?"
"Luna," Hermione whispered, showing
him the phial.
Draco's eyes fastened onto the phial for
a moment or two, and then he shot up.
"Shit," he pushed back the armchair
roughly before raising his hand for his
wand. His wand flew to him
immediately. "Granger, I have to check
up on something - just give me an hour,
or two."
Hermione's eyes widen. She let him go,
but mostly because she was a little
frightened by his behaviour, and was
mostly dazed by waking up so suddenly.
He met her wide-eyed gaze and paused.
"I won't be gone for long."
"W-will you - " she felt her breath lodge
itself in her throat. Something in his eyes
was different tonight, grey eyes alert and
with purpose. "Will you be...safe?"
"Yes, of course," he hastily assured her.
After a moment's hesitation, he reached
over to his desk to grab the two phials
and handed it to her. "They're all with
you now. Keep them safe."
"I-I will. Please...please remove the
spell," she quickly added, when he
turned to leave. She wanted to hear him
leave and she wanted to wait for him to
return. And she thought it would help if
she could hear other voices too. The
more she stayed in this apartment, the
more fascinated she was by Draco's
friends. They seemed a lively bunch and
she wondered why he never laughed
with them.
Draco faltered, taking two quick steps
back to her bed. He leaned down to
speak softly to her. "You're - you're not
going to like what you hear, Granger. It
will get - ugly, but I can assure you that
no one is getting hurt."
Her eyes widened. "What is it?"
He shook his head. "You'll understand
when you hear it."
"Oh...alright then," she whispered, with
a faint smile curving her lips. "Let me
hear it."
Draco almost smirked then. And
Hermione felt her breath hitch as she
watched his lips curl briefly, fleetingly,
warmly. But then it was gone and she
wanted nothing more than to make him
smile again.
"See you soon, Granger." Draco strode
out of the room, replacing the lock
charms once he'd shut the door. And the
second he removed the muffling charm,
Hermione almost suffocated from the
sheer terror of it all.
There was nothing but the sound of
tortured screaming.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When Draco rushed out, there was utter

chaos in the living room. Blaise noticed
him immediately and his eyes shot
daggers.
"Where the hell were you, Malfoy?"
Blaise bellowed, sounding well and
truly pissed. And Draco knew he was.
Blaise never called him by his surname
unless properly annoyed.
"Sleeping," Draco snapped, immediately
springing into action and helping Blaise,
pinning Pansy's legs down with a flick of
his wand. "Where's the potion?"
"Theo's getting it ready. THEO! Hurry
up!"
"You know it doesn't brew instantly, you
tosser!" Theo screamed back, from the
kitchen. His screams rivalled that of
Pansy's, until all Draco could hear was
deafening noises in his head and a
splitting headache.
Blaise let out a frustrated noise. "If you
had made the potion like I told you to
and if Draco had woken up on time and
if Pansy had checked the calendar then
we wouldn't be in this sodding - "
"Oh, how about if you had actually been
there to protect your girlfriend - "
"Fuck you, Theo - "
Draco hit both Blaise and Pansy with a
Silencio. "Calm yourself, Zabini," he
said mildly. He hated that Hermione
could hear every damn thing going on in
this household. "We've got it all
covered. Portkey," he held it out in his
palm, "potion," he flicked his wand in
Theo's direction, "her bag," he held out
his hand and Pansy's ragged backpack
came flying across the room to him.
"We've done this before, Zabini. She'll
be fine."
Blaise let out a shuddering breath when
Draco removed the silencing charm on
him. "I know, Draco. Sorry about that. I
just - "
He trailed off but he didn't need to say
anymore, because Draco understood and
he understood perfectly. He'd felt this
helpless every time he thought about
Hermione. All the months spent
searching for her, every time he thought
he had a lead but didn't, every time he
thought he heard something but didn't.
And even now, when Hermione was safe
with him, he still couldn't quench the
helplessness when he looked at her and
realised that her memories were all in
bits and pieces, tattered fragments that
he had no idea how to mend.
"Okay, it's done!" Theo rushed out with a
phial; his cheeks flushed and beaded
drops of perspiration on his forehead.
Draco lifted the silencing charm on
Pansy and once again, the room was
filled with her agonised screams. "Make
sure she drinks every drop," he directed,
pinning her legs down with an
immobulus charm. Once she had
swallowed, Draco lifted the portkey.
Theo immediately took that as a cue to
leave. "Wake me up when it's my turn,"
he said, ambling back to his room with a
loud yawn.
Blaise shot Draco a look both grateful
and pleading at the same time, and
Draco nodded. "She'll be fine."
"Of course she will be, once she's done
with it. I was talking about you, mate.
First watch is always the hardest."
Draco flashed one of his rare, brief
smirks just before he placed his and
Pansy's hands on the portkey. "That's
why I take it."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When Draco returned, he froze when he

saw Hermione sitting on the bed and
tracing her finger on the covers. He shut
the door behind him, casting silent
muffling and lock charms. Hermione
immediately raised her head, and her
brown eyes danced in the moonlight
when she saw him.
"Draco," she breathed, shuffling forward
as quickly as she could.
Draco covered the distance between
them, letting her latch onto his jumper,
fisting the fabric between her hands.
After pressing her face against his chest
for a moment or two, Hermione drew
back and took his hand, before pausing.
"You're freezing," she said, the concern
in her voice absolutely crushing. She
brought his hand near her lips and puffed
on them lightly.
Her warm breaths were welcoming, but
then there was the problem of how close
her lips were to his skin. And for a wild,
irrational moment, Draco thought of how
her lips would feel against his skin. Or
not just on his skin, but on his lips too.
But just as the thought came, it vanished
equally as quickly, and Draco hastily
wrenched his hand from her grasp,
stumbling back a step as he did. He
ignored the fleeting glimpse of hurt in
her eyes and settled down on the edge of
the bed, frowning down at the covers.
"What were you doing earlier?"
Hermione gazed at his hand like she
didn't know whether to take it again.
Feeling a surge of guilt in his chest,
Draco held out his hand again, making
sure to look unaffected when she took it,
a contented smile glossing her lips. "I-I
was spelling."
His eyebrows shot up. "Spelling?"
"Yes. See," she flipped his hand so that
the back of his hand was on her knee,
and her finger was hovering unsteadily
over his palm. Taking a deep breath, she
slowly spelt out the word she had seen
earlier. "L-U-N-A. Luna." She lifted her
eyes to his silver ones. "It - it means
moon, doesn't it?"
Draco felt his breath catch in his throat.
"How did you know that?"
"I - " and Hermione frowned, her gaze
seemed distant. " - I don't know. It's a
very familiar word, but I just - I can't
remember where I - "
"Granger, it's fine," he quickly cut in,
when her breathing began to become
shallow and sporadic, the fear gripping
her eyes once again. "You're right, by the
way. Luna means moon in Latin. Luna
plena - full moon. There's a full moon
out tonight."
"Is there?" Hermione immediately turned
around, her gaze fixed on the window
behind them.
Draco watched her silently, taking in her
long lashes and stubborn nose, the
blissful turn of her lips and the wild
brown curls that tumbled over her
shoulder in disarray. He'd always
thought Granger pretty. No point denying
that now.
But the moonlight against her face and
the shadows that never seemed to
eclipse her; the wide-eyes and the
smiling mouth and the peaceful
expression on her face - it was this
version of Hermione that seemed the
most beautiful so far. It was a Hermione
who was untainted by the ghosts of her
past and had no fear of the future, simply
because she didn't know it. Draco
wondered how long this version of
Hermione could last. He wondered if he
could preserve her that way forever.
He wondered if it was the most selfish
thing he had ever thought and instantly
hated himself for it.
Draco didn't realise that Hermione was
speaking to him until her fingers gripped
his tightly. Immediately, he focused his
attention on her. "Yeah?"
Hermione smiled. "I was asking - what's
wrong with Pansy? Is she...is she hurt?"
Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears
and Draco hastened to reassure her.
"No, she's fine. She's just - " Draco
found the next words so hard to say.
Coming to terms with the truth about
Pansy had never been easy. Saying out
loud was even harder. It was raw and
painful, one of the greyest spots in his
life.
To his surprise, Hermione dropped his
hand. He watched her with wary eyes as
she knelt on the bed, tucking her legs
beneath her and reached towards him,
sliding a tentative hand up his shoulder.
She seemed to be holding her breath just
as much as he was. And when she curled
her fingers around the nape of his neck,
sliding them up into his snow-blonde
hair, Draco let his eyes fall shut.
He let her sweet scent invade his senses
as she reached over with her other hand,
drawing it across his other shoulder
before curling around his neck. And then
she was pulling him gently towards her,
and he felt her hot breaths against his
skin, calloused skin against his own. He
wanted to flinch away and lean into her
all at once. His skin was frosted cold
and hers was the warm of lazy summer
days. He felt her lips suddenly press
against his temple and he stilled,
memorising how it felt and wanting
nothing more than to feel her lips on his
skin again.
"Draco?" Hermione breathed against his
skin and he shuddered, fingers digging
tightly into his palms as he tried to stop
himself from reaching out for her. "Is she
safe?"
She was talking about Pansy. Draco
opened his eyes and met her hazel gaze.
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters."
And when Hermione smiled against his
skin, he felt his heart stutter, and thought
to himself that he was well and truly
fucked.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco did not like the look Pansy gave

him the next morning at breakfast. She
was watching him from the corner of her
eye, smiling innocently when he glared
at her and humming annoying little tunes.
Blaise and Theo seemed oblivious to all
that was going on, but Draco had a
feeling that Pansy knew something was
amiss. Damn her. Nothing ever escaped
her eye.
"You should really eat out here with us -
" she began, when he grabbed the
pancakes from her and strode back into
his room quickly.
"Not interested."
When Draco came out of his room again,
the living room was suspiciously empty,
save for Pansy, who was sitting on the
sofa, humming a ridiculous tune to
herself. Something was definitely amiss.
She only looked this happy when she and
Blaise had mind-blowing sex. And since
she clearly hadn't had any last night,
there was no way this thing was about
sex.
"Where's Zabini and Nott?" Draco asked
calmly, chucking his plate into the sink.
Blaise would wash it later. He always
did.
"Out," Pansy wandered over to him, her
green eyes watching him shrewdly. "I
told them I had a bit of a headache and
that they could get their arses off to work
first. What about you? Why're you still
here?"
"Perks of being the favourite Death-
Eater, remember? I can go to work
whenever I want."
He stiffened when she began to follow
him. He wasn't the one with a nose like a
bloodhound. She was. He silently undid
the locks on his door, knowing that
Hermione could hear every damn word
said out here.
The moment Draco undid the locks, he
pushed open the door. But he wasn't
quick enough. And because he wasn't
expecting it at all, he couldn't even
deflect the stunning curse that hit him the
next second. Before he knew it, he was
crashing into his room, head-first. He
registered Hermione's startled scream,
followed by Pansy's next spell.
"Aresto Momentum."
Instantly, his body slowed towards the
ground, and he collapsed on the floor
ungainly. He couldn't believe he was
actually stunned and tossed around like a
ragdoll by Pansy.
"Rennervate."
The moment he got his movement back,
he pushed himself up on his feet and
whirled round to face her, ready to hex
her until she was nothing but a sobbing,
quivering mess.
But her eyes were gleaming, and she
surveyed first him, followed by
Hermione with a smirk on her face. "I
knew I smelled a Gryffindor last night."
06 | prior

06
pr i or i ncantato
Relives previous spells.

Pansy had seen many strange things in

her life, most of which had come from
Theo. But even Theo's strangest incident,
which involved him sticking his head up
their Thanksgiving turkey, was nothing
compared to what she saw now -
The Slytherin snake and Gryffindor's
princess sitting side by side on a bed.
If her fourteen-year old self had seen
this, she would've thrown a blue fit.
Pansy smirked at the thought of that.
She sat on Draco's desk, legs swinging
casually as she continued to watch
Draco mumble to Hermione. She
couldn't hear them at all, since the only
way she'd gotten Draco not to throw her
out was to offer to have her ears
muffled. He seemed to be calming her
down, because she'd gotten quite a fright
when Pansy had barged in like that.
Hermione flicked a brief gaze over at
Pansy, a look of utter apprehension on
her face.
Pansy grinned widely.
Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes
widened before she glanced away
quickly.
Draco threw Pansy an aggravated look,
to which she smiled serenely in return.
Inside, though, her mind was in a whirl.
Pansy didn't know what the hell was
going on, but one thing was for sure -
Hermione Granger was not doing well.
She quite missed the old Hermione -
annoying as that one was, with her
know-it-all attitude and her bloody
Gryffindor pride. Where had that
Hermione gone?
Pansy couldn't even recognise this
version of Hermione, who squirmed at
the slightest glance and who looked at
Draco like...Pansy bit her lip and tried to
think of a good way to describe it.
Adoration.
Yes, that was the word for it. Hermione
looked up at Draco like he hung the
moon. Like he was the only reason the
world (or her world, at least) existed.
She seemed to cling onto every word he
spoke, her eyes fixated on him and no
one else, her fingers clutching Draco's
like he was her lifeline.
Pansy couldn't remember Hermione ever
looking at anyone that way. Not even the
Weasel, back at Hogwarts. Pansy
wondered if Draco could see what she
saw.
Or maybe he couldn't, and the smirk on
Pansy's face grew as she turned her
attention to Draco now. Draco was
unusually relaxed, she noticed. His jaw
wasn't clenched, his shoulders weren't
tensed and his wand was -
Pansy glanced round quickly, before her
eyes landed on a familiar-looking one on
the dresser. Right there on the dresser.
She could take it and he wouldn't even
know.
Tempting as that thought was, Pansy
returned her gaze to Draco and continued
to catalogue the minute details. The
unusual warmth in his eyes, the way he
seemed to lean in towards Hermione as
he talked before pulling back every now
and then, his fingers interlaced tightly
with hers.
Well.
Guess there were still miracles during a
war.
After a good three minutes, Draco finally
straightened. He shifted so that his legs
were back down on the floor. Hermione
inched closer to him, her hand still in his
but her eyes slowly, hesitantly slid up to
Pansy.
Pansy's ears finally registered their slow
breathing and she realised that Draco
had removed the muffling charm.
Ignoring his pointed, cold gaze, she
smirked at the bushy-haired girl a mere
distance away from her.
"Hello, Hermione."
Hermione looked startled for a moment
and she paused, unsure of what to say,
until Draco glanced over at her and
nodded. Taking a deep breath, Hermione
tried to smile back, but it came out
weak. "Hi."
"I'm Pansy Parkinson," without getting
off the desk, Pansy leaned forward to
reach out a hand to Hermione, who
stared like she didn't know what to do.
"You shake," prompted Pansy, smirking
wider when Draco let out an annoyed
growl. She held her hand out until
Hermione slowly reached gripped it.
Pansy closed her fingers firmly around
Hermione's trembling ones and shook,
before letting go. "I don't suppose you
remember me? Fellow schoolmate,
Slytherin and one of your many arch-
nemeses?"
Hermione's eyes grew wide, her
eyebrows knitting together faintly. Pansy
could practically see her trying to recall.
It was an alarming sight. Who knew that
the cleverest witch of their year would
be reduced to this?
"Draco, a word?" Pansy threw him a
meaningful look, jerking her head
towards the door, before smiling softly
this time at Hermione. "Nothing bad, I
promise."
Draco hesitated. And after taking one
quick glance at Hermione's fearful eyes,
Pansy quickly backtracked. "We can talk
in here," she said kindly, directing her
words more at Hermione than at him.
She almost couldn't believe herself.
Pansy. Being kind to Hermione. Would
miracles never cease? "You just have to
muffle your ears."
But the look on Hermione's face was
enough to make Pansy feel like she'd
done the whole bloody world a bloody
favour. Hermione smiled and nodded,
waiting patiently as Draco muffled her
ears wordlessly, and letting him ease her
back down onto the bed. She continued
to watch Draco, occasionally sliding her
eyes over to stare at Pansy as well.
Their hands, Pansy noticed, never
separated.
For good measure, Pansy cast a silent
muffling spell on entire room, waving
her hand to swing the door shut. She
didn't have to look to see Draco doing
up the magic locks on the door. He was
terribly private that way. No wonder
none of them knew about Hermione's
existence.
Once he was done, she turned to him, a
knowing expression in her eyes and a
wicked smile playing on her lips. "I
think I owe Millicent two galleons."
"What?"
"Millicent Bulstrode? Fellow Slytherin?
She was a romantic nut, kinda thought
you might've had a thing for Hermione
since you always made fun of her during
Hogwarts days. I bet her two galleons it
wouldn't happen - but here we are."
"Bulstrode is dead."
"Oh," Pansy found a dull, aching pang in
her chest, which she quickly shoved
away. "I hadn't known."
Draco scoffed.
"Guess I could put the galleons on her
grave." Draco's eyes flew to hers, a
shade of sharp silver, and Pansy raised
her hands defensively. "Just picking up
on Theo's motto. Better to make a
morbid joke out of it than to think about
the alternative."
"What do you want, Parkinson?"
Pansy shrugged. "How about you start
from the very beginning? Like, how did
you even find her in the first place?
Were you searching for her?" Pansy
knew Draco well enough to know that
his silence meant she had hit the nail on
the head. "Alright, so you were
searching for her. When'd you find her?"
"The patrol I took over from Nott."
"The Quarry? That's about - " Pansy did
a quick calculation in her head. " - a
week ago, then? We truly are losing our
touch if we couldn't tell that you were
hiding a fugitive in your room," she
shook her head, smirking when Draco's
eyes flashed amusement. "What was she
doing there?"
Pansy had never seen Draco Malfoy
second-guess himself before. But he did,
at that moment, a feeling undetectable
emotion glimpsing his features. He
glanced briefly at Hermione, who had
her eyes closed by then, her chest rising
and falling with slow, measured breaths.
"She was captured."
"By who?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't bloody
know."
"For how long?" When Draco hesitated,
Pansy shrugged. "You can put more locks
on my memory later. As many as you
want. You know that you can trust me."
After a few seconds of deep
contemplation, Draco's jaw clenched
and he met her eyes frankly. "Three
years."
Pansy forced herself to maintain the
impassive expression she had on her
face. A lot of things could happen in
three years. Painful things. Atrocious
things. Horrifying things. Pansy didn't
want to think about it. And so she and
Draco sat, both trying to look like they
weren't affected by the circumstances of
the girl lying on the bed.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Pansy asked, at last. Her voice sounded
unfamiliar, kinder, and she knew that
Draco was surprised.
"Keep her hidden," said Draco calmly.
"Talk to her." His gaze eventually drifted
over to Hermione again, and Pansy felt
something in her chest tighten as she
watched him.
Not out of jealousy, no. Pansy loved
Blaise dearly. But the way Draco looked
at Hermione was an awful lot like the
way Blaise looked at Pansy herself.
Whether Draco knew it or not, Pansy
could tell that his feelings ran deep.
But nothing good ever came out of
people who loved during a war. She was
already prepared to die; and she woke
up everyday thinking it could be her last.
The only reason why she held on, and
would continue to do so, was for Blaise
- whom she loved. For Draco - whom
she would forever be indebted to. And
even for Theo - whom she wanted to see
happy.
And now, as much as it irked her to
admit it, there was one more reason to
fight the cause she fought so hard for. If
Hermione Granger could be the reason
for the war to end, somehow, then Pansy
would protect her at all costs.
"Alright," Pansy finally said, smirking
when Draco's surprised eyes met hers.
"Surprised? I can be nice, you know."
"Parkinson being nice? Never thought I'd
see the day."
"Hello kettle, this is pot."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Hermione was terribly startled to see an
unfamiliar figure sitting by her side
when she woke up. She froze when she
saw glimmering green eyes instead of
the warm silver ones she was so
accustomed to.
"Hello, Hermione."
The familiar voice registered in her head
before the figure did. It was Pansy
Parkinson. Draco's friend. The only
other girl in the apartment.
Hermione struggled to sit up, coughing
briefly when her lungs and ribs began to
ache. Pansy immediately leapt down
from her post on the desk and strode
towards her. With the tip of her wand,
she touched Hermione's chest. A pale
blue light streaked out from the wand
and Hermione instantly felt soothed.
"Better?"
"Yes...t-thank you." Hermione blushed
when Pansy frowned briefly, realising
that she was stuttering far more than she
usually was. She couldn't help it. Pansy
and her confidence made Hermione
nervous.
"Now drink this," Pansy placed a bottle
in her hands. Hermione drank, making
sure to keep her free hand on the phial
that Draco had left with her. It dangled at
the base of the chain, and Hermione
liked the feel of it within her grasp. It
comforted her.
She didn't notice Pansy's eyes slide
down towards it, nor did she notice the
look of apprehension that slid across
Pansy's features.
"Draco had to attend a meeting with the
Dark Lord," Pansy continued, starting
forward when Hermione choked
abruptly. "You alright?"
"Yeah." Pansy pressed her wand briefly
against Hermione's chest again. "Thank
you. I-I just - Draco..." Hermione forced
herself to calm down and rationalise the
thoughts in her head before saying them
aloud. "Draco has never told me about
what - what he did before...not
explicitly, anyway."
"Do you know what he does?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes. I know he's a
Death-Eater...and he searches for
people...and he - he said he uses the
Unforgivable curses - he says you all
do."
"He's right," Pansy smiled tentatively,
surprised when she saw no look of
judgement in Hermione's eyes. The old
Granger would've immediately voiced
her opinions, calling them filthy
Slytherins or something of that sort.
"That's what we do because we're
Death-Eaters. But Draco's special. He's
better than all of us."
"Really?"
Pansy didn't miss the glimmer of interest
in Hermoine's eyes, or the way the girl
shifted closer to her. "Well, Draco's sort
of the Dark Lord's favourite. He sets the
rules for the rest of the Death-Eaters -
and Blaise, that's my boyfriend,
reinforces them and makes sure they're
kept. Draco, along with Theo - that's the
other bloke living here - also
interrogates the important prisoners;
Draco has a knack of getting really
useful information out of them. And,
sometimes, he joins me in hunting down
people. I'm a Snatcher. In the Dark
Lord's inner circle, so I have the dark
mark," Pansy paused to drag up the
sleeve of her sweater, "but one of the
head Snatchers."
Hermione flinched when she laid eyes
on Pansy's mark. Pansy watched intently
as Hermione's breaths quickened, and
tears welled up in her eyes. "I-I don't
want to - I remember..."
"You don't have to look at it," Pansy
hastily pulled down her sleeve. "There,
it's gone, see?" Hermione began to sigh
in relief, but Pansy sat down on the bed
next to her. She felt a stubborn curiosity
surge through her, one that would make
Draco throw her out if he knew of this,
but Pansy was an avid believer that
curiosity never killed the bloody cat.
"Hermione."
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you something?" Hermione
nodded, and Pansy braced herself. "That
mark you saw on me - did you see it on
the people who captured you?"
"I don't want to - to talk about it."
"Then let me see it."
Hermione's eyes flew to hers. Pansy
smiled and tried to speak as
comfortingly as she could. Which wasn't
very comforting at all. It never was one
of her fortes, to be honest.
"I am skilled at Legilimency."
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed.
Ignoring the odd sinking feeling in her
heart, Pansy pushed on, speaking clearly
and slowly. "Theo, Blaise and me - we
all are. Draco taught us. We can use
magic to gather memories, as much
memories as we want. We can navigate
through your labyrinth of thoughts; dig up
past events you believe you've
forgotten."
Pansy tried to ignore the way Hermione
was gazing at her with rapt attention,
like she'd never heard of Legilimency
before. It was painful to see Hermione
like this, even though Pansy had never
been on very good terms with her
before.
"Now, I'm not trying to brag - okay, I
kind of am - but apart from Draco, I
think I'm the next best at Legilimency. If
you allow me to, I would like to view
your memories. It wouldn't last for more
than five minutes; I'll just be grabbing
what I can and viewing them at my own
pace later. And it wouldn't hurt - "
Hermione began to nod.
" - but, you will revisit everything,"
Pansy told her firmly. "In those few
moments, your mind will be filled with
memories of the past, as many as you
have to offer. But it will be over before
you know it, and you will never have to
tell me what happened, because I'll
already know it."
There was a pause. Pansy studied
Hermione, holding her breath as she
crossed her fingers for Hermione to
agree. After what seemed like forever,
Hermione barely managed a nod. Pansy
smiled triumphantly.
"Okay, let's begin. You can think of
Draco if you want." Hermione's hand
immediately went to the phial hanging on
the chain. When Pansy noticed the
fingers on her other hand still twitching,
she felt a pang of sympathy for the girl.
"Do you want to hold my hand?"
"Yes, please." Hermione slipped her
hand into Pansy's without further
confirmation.
"Close your eyes."
Hermione shut her eyes, breath
quickening as she felt the wand tip
brushing against her temple.
"Legilimens."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco immediately detected something

different in Hermione the moment he
returned that day. She wasn't crying. She
was deathly silent; and somehow, that
seemed far more unnerving to him than
anything else.
He paused a good distance away from
the bed, unsure of what to say or do as
he watched her stare blankly at the wall.
She hadn't even realised he had there.
Her fingers still grasped the phial tightly,
and that was strangely comforting to him.
"Granger."
Her gaze immediately flew to his. He
watched, warily, as the calm expression
on her face crumpled. And then the tears
were streaking down her face once
more, and she was reaching out for him.
"Draco."
He quickly went over, settling down on
the bed and letting her grasp firmly onto
his shirt. She pulled herself into a sitting
position. He exhaled heavily as she
pressed her face against his chest, and
then he could feel her tears soaking into
the fabric of his shirt.
After a brief moment of hesitation,
Draco slowly drew his hand up, resting
it lightly on her head. This was the first
time he'd made contact with her
voluntarily. Her brown curls were soft
beneath his touch. He could barely
breathe.
"Draco?" Her voice was barely audible.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for finding me...I knew you
would, eventually."
His hand stilled on her head. "What?"
"I h-heard you so many times. Leading
the Death-Eaters and, finding other...I
heard that all, Draco. And - and I could
hear you lingering back every
time...asking if anyone was there."
"Where were you?"
"Everywhere. They never kept me in a
place for a long time. I-I think they put
silencing charms, so...no one ever heard
me." Hermione sighed.
But her grip tightened on Draco's when
he leaned away. Before she could
overthink anything, she stumbled
forward to pull him back. Draco
instinctively reached forward to steady
her, but he froze when she, with an
unexpected boldness he didn't know she
possessed, braced her fingers on his
arms and held them still around her. His
muscles clenched beneath her touch, his
fingers went rigid on her waist.
"Please don't blame yourself, Draco,"
she seemed to make an effort to not
stumble over her words this time.
"Hearing your voice every once in
awhile - that was enough."
He closed his eyes and couldn't quite
keep the brokenness from his voice
when he spoke this time round. "I am
sorry, Granger, I - "
I tried. So hard. But it just wasn't
enough. It was never enough.
"You found me," she whispered, softly in
the silence. He felt her lips press briefly
against his chest and he let out a
shuddering breath, his chest tightening
painfully and deliciously, he couldn't
decide which. "And - and that is
enough."
But it wasn't enough. Draco was furious,
because as Hermione continued to stay
calmer than usual, he began to realise
that something had shifted. Between the
time he'd left her and Pansy alone. He'd
actually naively believed that Pansy
could take care of Hermione.
So when Hermione was out cold after
taking the sleeping draught at one in the
morning, Draco stormed out of the room,
muffling and locking the door behind
him. He found Blaise, Pansy and Theo
all in the living room. The two blokes
were playing Wizard's Chess, but Pansy
was sitting there with a vacant
expression in her eyes.
Draco's eyes immediately narrowed as
he watched the raven-haired girl.
"Parkinson." Her eyes flew to his. "I
need a word with you."
He noticed the tremor in her fingers
when she got up. She was out of sorts
and he knew she had done something. He
didn't even have to use Legilimens to
find out. Ignoring Blaise and Theo's
curious stares, he led Pansy to their
inventory room, muffling and locking the
door behind them.
Theo couldn't resist. "You think they're
doing it?"
Blaise didn't deign to reply. If Theo
thought he'd get worked up by that
comment alone, he'd better think again.
Draco was his best mate, and he trusted
Pansy with every fibre of his being.
So he simply waved his chess piece
across the last few squares and smirked
when Theo groaned in defeat.
"Checkmate."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The moment the charms were set, Draco

whirled round to face Pansy, a furious
expression on his face. Pansy thought it
was the most amount of emotion she'd
ever gotten out of him; apart from the
two other times she recalled clearly.
"What did you do, Parkinson?"
Pansy folded her arms stubbornly across
her chest. "I tried to help," she said
simply. Most people were afraid of
Draco, but she definitely wasn't one of
them.
"You broke her."
"I didn't- "
"Yes, you did. I told you to be careful
around her, I told you not to push her
until she was better - "
"She's not a fragile doll, Malfoy!" Pansy
exclaimed at last, the venom in her voice
stopping Draco mid-rant. "She's a
person, not an object! She can't be
broken! She is far stronger than you give
her credit for. If any one of us had gone
through even a third of what she's gone
through, we would've lost our minds by -
" Pansy trailed off as Draco's expression
grew murderous.
And then, she was rather afraid of Draco
Malfoy.
"You used Legilimency on her?"
"I - "
"You don't fucking use Legilimency on
Hermione Granger!"
Pansy stared calmly at him, wondering
what it was about Hermione Granger
that drew out so much emotion from the
emotionless, unfeeling Death-Eater.
"Yes, you do, if Hermione needs help.
And she needs help, Malfoy, or are you
too thick to see that?"
"Don't you think that if I wanted to use
Legilimency on Granger, I would've
used it by now?" Draco spat, his lips
twisting into a menacing sneer. "But
using that spell forces her to remember
every single thing she had to go through.
Revisit every single bloody minute of
torture."
"And you think I don't know that?" Pansy
asked in disbelief, her patience finally
wearing thin. Draco paused, his angry
grey eyes landing on hers briefly, and
Pansy sighed. "Draco, I know that. I told
Hermione that too. But she let me view
her memories because there was no
possible way for her to say them out
loud."
Draco didn't say anything, so Pansy took
it as a good sign to continue. She
transfigured two of the boxes into chairs,
and sank down on one of them,
motioning Draco towards the other. But
he stood, his posture still rigid.
"We've all been using Legilimency as a
weapon for so long that we forget what
it's really for - to piece bits of a story
that we've long forgotten back together.
Think of it as a form of treatment.
Granted, it's a little unorthodox; but this
is a war. You don't wait for things to get
better. You fight to make things better.
And the sooner Hermione learns to face
her monsters, the better - "
"What are you saying, Parkinson?"
Pansy paused, feeling rather thrown off.
Her eyebrows furrowed together in
confusion. "Don't you want her to go
back to saint Potter and the Order?"
"No." Draco didn't miss a beat.
"Oh."
And Pansy finally realised what she'd
glossed over all this while. The bigger
picture she hadn't bothered to see
because she was so adamant that it was
a ludicrous thought to even entertain.
She'd seen from Hermione's memories
that the girl was terrified of losing
Draco. She just didn't realise that Draco
was equally as terrified of losing
Hermione. It was a thought that intrigued
her but unsettled her all the same.
"Draco," she sighed, shifting closer to
him. "You can't keep Hermione here
forever."
He was silent.
"She's not broken, you know? They tried
to break her," Pansy didn't miss the way
Draco visibly flinched. "She just kept
bouncing back. That's why they kept her
alive. Do you want to see - "
"No."
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "You had better
not be acting like nothing happen, like
she didn't get tortured because that's
absolutely delusional - "
"It's not that, Parkinson. I'd just rather
she tell me at her own pace, whenever
she's ready."
"Okay." Pansy could live with that. She
hadn't meant to rush Hermione either, but
she'd known something was wrong with
Hermione the moment she laid eyes on
the scared girl. And she didn't regret
using Legilimency at all, because now
she'd found some terribly important
information.
She inhaled, wondering how Draco
would take this new turn of events once
he knew about it. "Do you want to know
who captured Hermione?"
Draco's head shot up immediately. Pansy
smiled soberly, bracing herself for his
reaction. And she had never hated the
mark on her arm more than at that
moment.
"Death-Eaters from the inner circle."
07 | wingardium

07
w i nga r d i uml e v i o s a
Makes objects fly.

The moon bathed the room in a soft

warm glow when Draco went back in
later that night. Hermione was still fast
asleep, curled up in a foetal position on
her side, her hands clasping the phial
he'd given her.
He stared down at her, watched the slow
rise and fall of her shoulders as she
breathed deeply. Her face was still
scarred at certain places; some bruises
and scars still hadn't faded. Her frizzy
mane of hair fanned around her in
haphazard directions, a reminder of the
wild, feisty girl she had once been.
Draco realised that he had never been
filled with more self-loathing than he
had ever felt at that moment.
Hermione suddenly shifted, her
breathing becoming rapid and shallow.
Quickly seeing that she was about to
have another nightmare, Draco sat down
on the bed and grasped her arms when
she began to push herself up. He cast
another muffling charm on the room
when she started sobbing uncontrollably.
She was was far less violent this time
round, and she eventually awoke, her
eyes bloodshot and wide as she stared
up at him.
"Draco?"
"It was just a dream, Hermione," he
murmured, instinctively leaning into her
touch when she brought her hand up to
his cheek. "Go back to sleep."
He quickly realised his slip when her
eyes widened in something like wonder.
"You - you called me 'Hermione'."
"You call me 'Draco' all the time."
Her lips curved into a gentle smile.
"Touché."
He made to move away, but she kept her
grip firm on his hand. And for some
unfathomable reason, he made a snap
decision to not pull away this time.
Transfiguring his leather chair quickly
into a spare pillow, he laid it against the
base of the headboard and leaned against
it. With his other hand, he reached down
and ran his fingers soothingly through
her hair, marvelling in the way the frizzy
ends curled instinctively around his
fingertips.
Hermione stared up at him, a contented
smile playing on her lips and he frowned
down at her. "Go to sleep, Hermione."
She nodded and shifted, pressing her
lips briefly against his wrist before
letting her eyes fall shut.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco awoke the next morning when he

felt someone attempting to shift him. His
eyes flew open, only to see Hermione's
face inches away from his. She was
leaning over him on her knees, one of
her arms was wrapped tight around his
shoulder, her other hand on his head, as
she awkwardly tried to manoeuvre him
down. Her lips were pursed with the
effort and she didn't even notice that he
was awake.
"Hermione." He stifled a smirk when she
shrieked and loosened her grip. He
managed to prop himself up on his
elbow just in time, grasping her arms
firmly so she wouldn't fall on top of him.
"What're you doing?"
She blushed and sat back down on the
bed. But she hardly noticed that her
fingers were still grasping him firmly, or
the way his eyes drifted down to where
their skin lay in firm contact with each
other. "You looked uncomfortable just -
sitting there. I wanted to help you lie
down...it's your bed, after all."
"You could've used a wand."
The instant the words were out of his
mouth, Draco wanted to slap himself.
No, Hermione couldn't use a wand. He'd
spent a lot of time observing her the past
few days, and one of the things he
noticed was that she no longer used
magic. He mentally kicked himself when
he saw the sadness in her irises.
"I-I wish I could," she whispered, her
eyes straying to the wand he'd gave her.
She had left in on the dresser just in
case, but had never bothered to touch it.
Her fingers twitched. "I just don't know
how to - anymore."
Draco's jaw clenched. One more reason
why he couldn't send her back to the
fucking Order. They were going to make
her fight for them, and he'd be damned if
he let her go into a war without any
fucking preparation whatsoever.
"I'll teach you," the words left his lips
before he could even have a chance to
think them through.
But the brilliant smile that spread across
her face was so fucking worth it.
"Really?"
"Yes - "
He didn't even get the chance to finish
the sentence before she was barrelling
right into him. Caught off guard, Draco's
elbow gave and he felt his back hit the
wall. The next thing he knew, Hermione
was wrapping her arms tightly around
him, her fingers grasping tightly onto his
shirt.
"Thank you," she choked, stifling a
happy sob, "thank you, Draco."
Draco didn't reply. He simply reached
up and threaded his fingers through her
hair, resting his hand lightly on her head.
He tried to pretend like his heart wasn't
racing.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was distracted that afternoon.

He'd tried to keep his head in the game,
but he couldn't help staring at the Death-
Eaters around him. It was all he could
do to keep the murder out of his eyes,
especially after he'd caught Pansy's
warning glare at him across the room.
But he needed to know. He needed to
know who the bastards who had
captured Hermione were.
But perhaps he'd gotten a little too
distracted. And so he wasn't surprised
when the Dark Lord told him to stay
back after the meeting was over, and
everyone else had dispersed to their
individual jobs.
"You seem a little - on edge today,
Draco," the Dark Lord said, once they
were in the hall alone.
Draco's eyes landed briefly on the Dark
Lord's wand - the Elder Wand - clasped
between his pale, bony fingers. Draco
met the Dark Lord's gaze evenly. "My
apologies, my lord," he said. "I was
thinking of potential Death-Eaters to
accompany me on the next mission to
Azkaban."
"Don't we have our usual schedule?"
"Forgive me if I sound impertinent, my
lord, but with the inner circle expanding
and more Death-Eaters joining our
cause, there's bound to be traitors. It's
the reason why we have so many
prisoners in our cells. A fifth of those
are defected Death-Eaters."
"What would you suggest, then, Draco?"
Draco's eyes gleamed. This was going
just the way he wanted. "I require a team
that I can trust. You know I succeed in
every mission you send me on, my lord -
"
"Indeed you do," and the Dark Lord
looked quite pleased.
" - and if you allow it, this team I lead
will see nothing but success. We have
patrol groups and bounty hunters, but the
success of their missions are always
dependent on the quantity of Death-
Eaters. I want nothing but quality, my
lord. I'm certain that you do too."
"Of course. Quality always supersedes
quantity. I never wanted to expand my
inner circle to the size it is now, but
MacNair convinced me otherwise."
"It would be plausible if MacNair's
intention was to strengthen your forces,
my lord. But judging by the recent
amount of defected Death-Eaters we've
captured, it's clear to see that he's not
picking the right people. I would rather
not work with people who could shoot a
killing curse at me when my back is
turned - not that I'll actually allow it,"
Draco added, in amusement.
"Nor will I," the Dark Lord said, before
nodding in satisfaction. "You can pick
your team at the next meeting, Draco.
And I expect nothing but the best results
you have to offer."
Draco leaned back in his seat and
smirked. "You have my word."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Pansy?"
Pansy looked up from the book she was
reading and glanced over at Hermione.
The bushy-haired girl had a book
propped open in front of her as well, and
Pansy thought she painted a very
nostalgic picture. Hermione suddenly
seemed a lot like the old one she was so
used to.
Even though she was studying a book
that was meant for a first year student at
Hogwarts.
It was afternoon, and Pansy had taken it
upon herself to spend the rest of the day
with Hermione, since Draco was clearly
still busy with work. The rest of the
house was empty, since Theo was on one
of his patrols and Blaise had gone to the
black market. So, upon arriving home,
Pansy had undone the locks on Draco's
door (all of them figured out Draco's
locks a long time ago, they just had the
courtesy to never barge in on him), and
found Hermione.
Hermione had been quite a wreck when
Pansy first found her. She was crying
silently, but tracing words on the
bedsheet to distract herself. Pansy
figured she could do with some reading.
After all, Hermione Granger loved to
read.
"Yes?"
"W-which house was I in? Back in
Hogwarts?"
Pansy tried hard not to sigh. Closing her
book, she chucked it onto Draco's bed
and went over to Hermione, who was
sitting by the window. Opening the glass
doors of Draco's library with a flick of
her wrist, she held out her hand. "Accio
Hogwarts 1991 yearbook."
A dusty old book came flying to her.
Pansy grabbed it and smirked at the pure
look of wonderment on Hermione's face.
"You were in Gryffindor," Pansy said,
sitting down next to Hermione and
opening the book. She quickly flipped
through the pages, pausing when she
finally turned to the Gryffindor house
page. She automatically grimaced.
Hermione, on the other hand, stared at
the page intently. "I-is that me?" Her
finger hovered uncertainly to the picture
of a beaming girl with frizzy, untameable
hair.
"Yes," Pansy replied. "Always quite the
sunshine back then, no matter the
weather." She pointed at another picture
that made her grimace again. Saint
fucking Potter with his cheesy scar and
faux-innocent eyes. "Remember him?"
Hermione shook her head.
And Pansy felt her heart sink. "Harry
Potter," she told Hermione, pointing
again to the picture, before pointing to
several others. "The wea - I mean, Ron
Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus
Finnegan, Lave - " Pansy stopped
herself. Lavender Brown was dead. No
use mentioning her then. "Parvati Patil
and Dean Thomas. Remember them?
They were all from Gryffindor too."
Hermione bit her lip, before pointing to
the Neville's picture hesitantly. "This -
this one...a little," but her attention was
soon on the other pictures. Pansy blew
out a breath through her teeth. Oh, boy.
The Weasel was not going to be happy.
But her thoughts were quickly
interrupted when Hermione frowned.
"Where's Draco?"
"Oh, Draco's not from Gryffindor,"
Pansy told her, with a smirk. Merlin,
she'd give anything to see Draco's face if
he were here right now. "Nor are any of
us, for that matter." She quickly flipped
several pages, skipping past the
irrelevant Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.
"Here we are. That's me," her eyes
misted as she saw her young self, and
she hastily moved on. "That's Theodore
Nott. Blaise Zabini. And - " she finally
landed her finger on picture with the boy
who had the best scowl. " - Draco
Malfoy."
Pansy didn't miss the way Hermione's
eyes brightened or the way her lips
curved in a fond smile. "Hermione?"
The other girl glanced up.
"About your memories - " Hermione's
eyes widened. " - I meant about Draco,"
Pansy hastily said, feeling a rush of
relief when Hermione began to calm
down. "I saw that you remembered
Draco even during Hogwarts days. I
specifically recall one very lucid
memory of you clipping him right in the
nose."
Hermione smiled and looked far more
relaxed than Pansy had ever seen her.
Her brown eyes were twinkling. "Yes. I
don't quite recall why I did that...but I
think - I think he deserved it."
Pansy smirked. Draco probably did. But
then her smile faded as she thought of the
repercussions of Hermione's mismatched
memory. "You do remember that you
hated him in the past, don't you?" She
said, opting for the blunt option instead
of beating round the bush. She was
almost certain Draco had never
addressed this matter before; choosing
instead to cherish the moments where
Hermione thought the world of him.
"You two got on each others' nerves
constantly."
"Oh, yes, I-I remember. Draco was
rather difficult then," Hermione's smile
grew. "He's good now."
And Pansy had to return Hermione's
smile because, no matter how many bad
things Draco Malfoy did now, she too
saw him as a good person. "Yes, he is."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco spent the next few nights teaching

Hermione magic all over again. It
seemed almost painful to watch, like a
handicapped person trying to learn how
to stand on their own two feet again.
On one of the nights, Hermione watched
with rapt admiration as he levitated a
book without a wand. She asked him to
do it three more times, eyes wide and
smiling when he levitated several books
simultaneously, just for her benefit. But
when he waited for her to do it, she
hesitated, fingers clutching the spare
wand he'd given her anxiously.
"Hermoine?"
"Yeah, I just - " she exhaled visibly,
biting her lower lip. Draco sat down
next to her on the bed, reaching down to
take her hand. He didn't notice the flush
on her cheeks or the quickening of her
breath.
He held her hand with the wand as he
slowly showed her the precise
movements. "Wingardium Leviosa," he
said, and she could feel his hot breath on
her skin. Then he dropped her hand and
she suddenly felt cold.
Hermione inhaled. Gripping her wand,
she pointed it at the book. "W-
wingardium...leviosa."
The book didn't budge an inch.
Draco held her hand up when she
automatically lowered it. "Again. Firmer
and louder this time."
"Wingardium...leviosa..."
The book still lay motionless and
Hermione fought the tears that threatened
to spill past her eyelids. She had hoped.
But clearly it wasn't enough. She cast a
discreet glance over at Draco, but his
expression was shuttered, his lips
pressed into a grim line.
"Again. More distinct movements," he
traced his finger in the air to show her.
"Don't hesitate," he added, when she
tried again and failed. After her twenty-
third try, Hermione was biting her lip to
keep from sobbing out loud.
Draco glanced over at her, finally
pulling himself out from his usual,
detached professionalism he adopted
when teaching someone and shifted
closer to her. Without dwelling too much
on it, he slid his arm around her and
pulled her into his chest, feeling like a
complete bastard for pushing her to try
so many times. He didn't know why he
did. Perhaps a part of him desperately
wished that one of the best witches he'd
ever seen in his life hadn't lost all of her
magic.
But this new Hermione Granger was no
longer the tenacious, stubborn witch he
knew (and hated, sort of) back in
Hogwarts. She no longer pinned high
hopes on herself and didn't force herself
to be better than everyone else. But she
had also mellowed down and was far
less judgemental and far kinder. He
couldn't decide which version of her he
liked better; or perhaps the many sides
she had always fascinated him.
"It's fine, Hermione," he murmured,
pressing his lips briefly against her hair
when she let out a stifled sob, clinging to
him desperately. "We can try again
tomorrow."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione stayed awake that night,

watching as Draco himself fell asleep on
his usual leather armchair. When she
thought that he was well and truly
asleep, she sat up in bed carefully and
reached for her wand on the dresser. She
tugged the chain attached to Draco's
phial over her neck and set it down on
the bedspread. Then she pointed the
wand at it and took a deep breath.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she whispered,
making sure to keep her voice low so
that Draco would not be disturbed.
Nothing.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
Still nothing.
Third time's a charm, she reminded
herself optimistically, and pointed the
wand firmly at the chain.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
This time, the chain lifted. Just the
slightest bit, before dropping back down
on the bed again. But that was enough for
her. Hermione felt a surge of joy spread
through her and she smiled to herself in
the darkness, only to drop her wand in
surprise when a familiar, silky voice
sounded beside her.
"Welcome back, Granger."
Hermione spun round, only to realise
that Draco had been watching her all this
while, his silver eyes like a cat's in the
dark. He had the faintest trace of a smirk
on his lips, and his tone was almost
teasing.
She smiled brightly at him, reaching
over to wrap her arms around his waist.
Her action itself forced her halfway into
his lap, and she suppressed a shiver
when he looped his arms loosely around
her, his palms sliding firmly against the
small of her back.
Lifting herself up slightly, she pressed a
quick kiss to his cheek. "Hermione," she
reminded him.
His lips quirked in a brief, wry smirk;
but she could've sworn he looked almost
nervous about the tiny distance
separating them. "Right," she felt the low
rumble of his chest when he spoke.
"Hermione."
Reluctantly, she detached herself from
him and crawled back to the bed, making
sure to take his hand tightly between
hers. She couldn't quite rationalise her
earlier actions or fathom what she was
doing. Testing boundaries, she supposed.
Seemed the boundaries weren't quite
clear cut that night.
Then again, they hadn't been clearly set
for a long while now.
08 | finite

08
fi ni tei ncantatum
Terminates all spell effects.

Draco relished the looks of surprise on

the Death-Eaters' faces when the Dark
Lord brought up the matter of a new,
elite group at the next meeting. Even
Theo looked surprised, and that was
saying something, because Theodore
Nott was hardly ever taken by surprise.
When the Dark Lord gave him
permission to pick his team, Draco
pushed back his chair slowly, letting the
legs grate loudly against the linoleum
floor tiles. He waved the other seated
Death-Eaters up and gestured them to
stand with the rest.
"My lord," this came from Yaxley, who
all but sneered when Draco gestured for
him to get the fuck up. He'd always been
unhappy ever since Draco was picked as
the Dark Lord right-hand man.
The Dark Lord didn't react.
"Don't piss on my fucking parade,
Yaxley, move," Draco whisked his wand
in Yaxley's direction and the man slid
across the floor, coming to a sudden stop
and tumbling down because of the abrupt
momentum. Some of the Death-Eaters
laughed.
"Right," Draco sat at the edge of the
table, surveying the Death-Eaters in front
of him with a measured, heavy gaze. He
threw a brief glance over at the Dark
Lord, who was watching with a
calculative gleam in his serpentine eyes.
"Any suggestions, my lord?"
"I quite trust your judgement, Draco."
"Thank you, my lord," Draco dipped his
head briefly in faux gratitude, before
turning back to the Death-Eaters. With
his wand, he pointed straight at
Bellatrix. "Auntie dearest," he said,
quite mockingly, but she didn't catch it.
Her smile was pure pride directed at
Draco as she leapt forward joyously and
came up to him.
Draco tried not to think about hitting her
with a killing curse there and then,
although he was highly tempted to do so
every time he laid eyes on Bellatrix
fucking Lestrange. He loathed her,
especially after seeing her torture
Hermione in front of his very eyes.
But being a skilled Occlumens, Draco
had kept his hatred for her well-hidden.
And Bellatrix had been immensely proud
of his accomplishments as he rose higher
up the ranks of the Death-Eaters. She
was evidently ecstatic that someone in
her family shared her ardent (albeit
twisted) love and fervour for the Dark
Lord.
"It would be an honour, Draco,"
Bellatrix grinned widely, flashing her
yellow and decaying teeth. She stood
beside him, staring down
contemptuously at the other Death-
Eaters.
Draco ignored her and pointed his wand
in the direction of his friend. "Pansy
Parkinson." He didn't miss the twinkle in
his friend's eyes as she stepped forward.
"Maisie Donalds. Graham Pritchard.
Malcolm Braddock. Alecto Carrow.
Guthrie Rhodes," he smirked when Theo
shot daggers at him from across the
room. "And Theodore Nott."
"Just nine?" This came from MacNair,
who seemed rather affronted that he
wasn't picked. "To break into Azkaban?
My lord - "
But before either the Dark Lord or
Draco could intervene, Bellatrix stood
in front of the group, brandishing her
wand at MacNair with an unhinged glint
in her eye. "You dare doubt our
capabilities?" She hissed, sounding
absolutely furious. "We would never be
picked if my nephew didn't think us
capable of breaking into Azkaban!"
Draco simply smirked. It seemed
Bellatrix was useful after all.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"What the hell was that?"

Draco ignored Pansy, who had
immediately begun yelling the moment
they were back in the apartment. He
eased up on the muffling charms in his
own room - so that Hermione could hear
their voices but not specific parts of
their conversation - and went into the
kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of
Firewhisky from the fridge, popped the
cap open with his wand and chugged.
"Draco!"
"Keep your knickers on, woman, and let
the man drink," Theo smirked and leaned
against the counter. "Oi, Draco, throw
me a bottle, will you?"
Draco tossed him a bottle, and two to
Blaise, who handed one to Pansy. As
exasperated as the witch was, she
couldn't resist chugging as well,
enjoying the way the liquid burned down
her throat.
"You know, I really thought you had
forgotten me, mate," Theo told Draco,
with a rich chuckle. "You can't have fun
in a fight without me."
"Yes, speaking of having fun in fights,
why wasn't I picked?" Blaise seemed
hardly offended, gazing at Draco
curiously instead. He knew Draco had
his reasons; he never went on missions
without having a foolproof plan.
Draco cast another surreptitious glance
at his bedroom door again - a look that
didn't go unnoticed by Pansy, who
narrowed her eyes. She knew that Draco
was just dying to go back to Hermione,
but she needed to hear what Draco had
to say. Missions were difficult, breaking
into Azkaban was way tougher, and
doing it with only nine members seemed
impossible.
Draco smirked briefly at Blaise. "You're
the tenth member."
Blaise blinked. "What?"
Setting his bottle down, Draco braced
his arms on the counter and waited for
the other three to give him their full
attention before he began. "There are
two parts to this mission. The first - as
everyone knows - is to break into
Azkaban and free the Death-Eaters. It's
simple; Bellatrix has been in Azkaban -
which was why I picked her - and she'll
let us view her memories of the place,
which will help when we navigate our
way through the prison. I'll be splitting
the group into two. Nott, you and
Parkinson will be in the other group with
Bellatrix and two others. Keep an eye on
them, make sure you deal with any
trouble that gets in the way."
Theo grinned. "Looking forward to it."
"Stay clear of the Dementors. They
should be on our side, but even if they
can't recognise us, they will never know
that the three of us are there," he
gestured to himself, Pansy and Theo,
before turning to Blaise. "I need the
numbing potion in concentrated doses
for that day. Three times the usual
amount. Dementors pick their victims
based on emotions. They wouldn't sense
a fucking emotion out of any one of us
when we go to Azkaban."
Blaise grinned and nodded, grabbing his
wand to make a note on his palm.
"Dolohov thought it was going to be
difficult with nine members but it's a
piece of cake with the numbing spell."
Draco shrugged. "It's going to be
difficult for the other members but
certainly not for us. Zabini, you're the
backup. Use a Disillusionment charm to
keep yourself hidden, don't forget to
numb yourself and watch our backs.
You're the only one able to cast a fully
corporeal Patronus - Parkinson's
Patronus is still weak - so if all else
fails and we're surrounded by
Dementors, you'll take care of it."
Blaise shot him a suspicious look.
"That's it?"
"Of course not," Draco scoffed and
Blaise smiled in satisfaction. He knew
Draco far too well to know that
something was up his sleeve. "Now on
to part two of the mission - which is kept
between the four of us. We all know that
there are traitors among the Death-Eaters
and I formed this group specifically to
sift them out. Parkinson," Draco turned
to Pansy, who immediately looked at him
expectantly. "You're the best at
Legilimency. You know what you have to
do. Zabini will be there to collect their
memories and insert artificial ones if
necessary. Each traitor we find will be
handed over to the Dark Lord himself."
Theo chuckled, a knowing glint in his
eye. "I see what you're doing. Thinning
out the Dark Lord's army on the pretext
of wanting nothing but loyalty among the
Death-Eaters. Pretty sly move you've got
there."
Draco winked and lifted the bottle back
to his lips. "What else did you expect
from a Slytherin?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco found Hermione curled up on the

bed again crying silent tears. His shrewd
silver eyes took in the scene before him
quickly; noticing that the spare wand
he'd given her was carelessly tossed
aside on the desk.
Ignoring the tightening feeling in his
chest, he picked up the familiar-looking
book by the door, recalling that it was
the one she'd tried to levitate the night
before, and set it on the desk.
"Hermione."
She immediately shot up at the sound of
his voice. He was surprised to see her
wearing one of his jumpers, and while it
fit him just fine, it was huge on her but
he somehow thought it looked better on
her than it did on him. Her eyes were
bloodshot and nose runny, but she smiled
all the same and scrambled across the
bed towards him. "Draco," she breathed
in relief.
He let her wind her arms around his
waist and, after a moment's hesitation,
wrapped one of his arms around her
small frame, and felt her bury her face
against his chest. "Levitation didn't work
today?"
She let out a choked sob. "No, I-I don't
know why I just - can't. I tried, I really
did..."
"It's not an overnight thing, you don't
become the most brilliant witch at
Hogwarts in a single bloody day."
"Pansy said - " and she sounded so
damned forlorn when she spoke that
Draco had to brace himself. " - Pansy
said that I-I was. You know - a long time
ago."
Pansy. Draco made a mental note to give
his friend a sharp talking to soon. He
understood her good intentions and knew
that she wanted Hermione to get better.
But he knew better than everyone that
some things just didn't go away and
people didn't just get better that quickly.
Some people never got better at all.
Pansy and her impatience grated on his
bloody nerves sometimes.
"Are," Draco corrected, absentmindedly
reaching down to tangle a finger in a
lock of Hermione's hair. "You still are
the most brilliant witch I know."
"I-I don't think so. It might not ever come
back," her eyes trailed wistfully to the
wand on the desk. He felt her fingers
twitch against his back.
"Doesn't fucking matter," he tossed back
nonchalantly. "You're still brilliant."
He stiffened when she pulled back. But
then she gazed up at him with bright,
smiling eyes and Draco couldn't
remember if anyone, anyone, had ever
looked at him like that before.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione stopped doing magic after

that. But she didn't stop learning new
things, or browsing through books, even
if she didn't understand them. There was
something fascinating about trying to
make sense of the words in her head,
although she tired of it a lot sometimes.
One of her favourite things to do was to
look at the old yearbooks. Draco had
gotten them all out for her, and she'd
spend hours just staring at the
photographs. Some faces were beginning
to become clearer, like a camera
gradually zooming into focus.
Luna Lovegood. That was one of the
pictures that caught her eye and she spent
ages staring at the girl in the yearbook.
When she asked Pansy about Luna,
Pansy simply smirked and shook her
head.
"Batshit crazy," Hermione's eyes had
widened but Pansy quickly sent her a
reassuring smile, "but completely
harmless."
So Hermione thought a lot about Luna
and, remembering what Draco had said
about Luna Plena, Hermione thought
about Luna more when the moonlight
was streaming in through the windows at
night. She also thought a lot about
Neville Longbottom - a funny name, and
she remembered it because the name
made her laugh at first. But the more she
stared at the boy with the chubby cheeks,
the more familiar he felt.
"Fucking git," was Draco's more than
generous analysis of Neville
Longbottom, when Hermione had asked.
"But brave - I'll give you that. He
destroyed a bloody Horcrux."
"What's a Horcrux?"
Draco's silver eyes darkened to stormy
shades of grey and he shook his head.
Hermione was pleasantly surprised
when he got off his armchair to sit next
to her on the bed, and she immediately
scooted closer, leaning her head gently
against his arm. He didn't seem to mind
at all.
She watched silently as Draco
summoned the Encyclopaedia of
Magical Creatures from his bookshelf
and flipped through it. Finally, he
pointed to a picture of a large green
snake. Hermione felt a strange shiver
gloss down her spine as she looked at it.
"A snake. He killed a snake," said Draco
simply.
But when she slipped her hand through
his, he seemed to hold on tighter than
usual. Not that she was complaining.
Hermione was sometimes very, very
afraid to lose Draco, even if he wasn't
going anywhere.
She quietly returned back to the 1997
Yearbook, her eyes riveting on two
particular photographs she'd always
stared long at. One was Ronald Weasley,
and the other was Harry Potter.
"You didn't really like him much...did
you?" She ventured at last, showing
Draco the picture of Harry Potter and
smiling in amusement when his eyes
immediately narrowed.
"No, he's my absolute favourite, I really
enjoyed the way he shot a curse at me
that sliced open my fucking chest,"
Draco deadpanned, lips twitching in
amusement when Hermione let out a
horrified gasp. "Although, you can't
judge since you punched me in the
face..."
"Only because you deserved it," shot
back Hermione, and then her eyes
widened. She paused. What she'd said
and the way she had said it sounded
awfully familiar but distant all the same.
She looked at Draco and noticed that the
expression on his face seemed torn
between amusement, nostalgia and faint
frustration.
But then the look faded and he shook his
head, silver eyes twinkling in the dim
lighting of their room. "Always so
bloody stubborn, Granger."
She smiled up at him and laced their
fingers together. "Hermione," she
reminded him affectionately, to which he
let out a reluctant noise of agreement.
Flipping the pages, Hermione found her
favourite one and paused, smiling fondly
at the blond haired boy who posed
sullenly for the camera.
Then she looked at the next picture.
Draco followed the direction of her gaze
and snorted. "Cocky wanker," he said,
but Hermione detected a faint trace of
amusement in his voice when he talked
about Theodore Nott. "Believe it or not,
he's got the same hairstyle now as he
used to have back then."
Hermione chuckled. "Well then...tell him
that - that he really needs a haircut."
"I'll be sure to pass your message on."
So later that night, Draco lifted the
silencing charms on the door when he
went out to get dinner. Hermione pressed
her ears against the door, smiling when
Draco began the conversation with, "hey,
Nott, you need a fucking haircut."
Theo made a dismissive noise.
"Why're you so bloody concerned with
my - fuck, Draco, were you thinking
about me when you were inside the room
wanking all afternoon?"
Hermione pressed the back of her hand
to her lips to suppress her laughter. She
heard the sounds of some scuffling and
presumed that Draco had well and truly
hit that thought out of Theo's head.
Several minutes later, he returned with a
plate piled full with food. After
slamming the door shut, he stared down
at Hermione, his expression flat and
unamused.
"Told you he was a cocky wanker,"
Draco muttered, his voice charged with
faint aggravation but his features began
to soften as she continued to laugh. Her
laughter made him momentarily forget
about the war and the bleak present and
the blurry future. It reminded him of
better days, of sunlight and warmth and
everything pleasant and sweet in
between.
But if there were better days then there
were worse nights. That night was one
of the worst ones, because Draco woke
to the sound of Hermione sobbing. It
wasn't her usual tired or desperate
sobbing, it bordered on hysterical and
her face was flushed red with the effort
of trying to keep her cries in.
Draco hastily recast the muffling charm
on the room and woke her up. "You had
another nightmare again," he told her,
when recognition dawned on her face.
But her eyes were wide and frantic and
searching, and she quickly reached her
palms up, sliding them up the planes of
his cheeks and holding him close.
"Wasn't a nightmare," she rasped softly.
Draco resisted the urge to let his eyes
fall shut but it was far too easy to lean
into her touch. "It - it was different. I
have two different kinds of...dreams."
"What kinds of dreams?" He couldn't
quite curb his curiosity this time.
"I-I have nightmares of getting...tortured
and, and starved and beaten. But the - the
terrifying part, is watching you being
tortured for finding me. Right before my
very eyes."
Draco couldn't stop himself from
brushing his thumb quickly across the
tears that streaked down her cheeks.
"And what about the dreams that make
you cry?"
When she spoke, her voice was so quiet
he almost didn't hear her. "Those are the
times when you don't find me."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione's eyes flew open when she

heard a sudden, sharp bang. Realising
that her hand was cold and not holding
Draco's, she immediately struggled to sit
up, ignoring the faint pang in her
abdomen. She glanced to the right,
breathing a sigh of relief as she saw
Draco.
"Fuck," he was muttering, rubbing his
knee with a twisted scowl on his face.
She guessed that he'd probably knocked
against the table on the way out.
On the way out.
Her eyes widened when she noticed now
that he had a jacket pulled over his
jumper, the hood pulled over his head.
He turned slightly and paused when he
met her hazel eyes in the moonlit room.
"W-where're you going?" Hermione
whispered, feeling a shudder wrack
itself through her body as she stared up
at him with fearful eyes. His jaw was
clenched, shoulders squared in an
unusual determination and the expression
on his face was utterly calm and lethal.
But the look faded as he stepped
towards her, sitting on the edge of the
bed. "The four of us have to be
somewhere tonight," Draco said. "Dark
Lord's orders."
Hermione couldn't stop the painful
tightening in her chest. She wasn't just
worried for Draco, but for Pansy and
Blaise and Theo as well. She'd spent so
long listening to them behind the closed
door that she hardly wanted anything bad
to happen to any of Draco's friends.
"Is it...is it safe?"
"We'll be fine," Draco said instead,
before handing her a sleeping draught.
"I'll be back before you wake up."
Nodding unsurely, Hermione sank back
against the pillow. She watched him
leave, shutting the door gently behind
him. She heard faint voices in the living
room and after awhile, complete silence.
When she was certain that he was gone,
she set down the sleeping draught on the
dresser. She turned on her side and
stared into the darkness, counting down
the hours to his return.
09 | imperio

09
i mp e r i o
Total control over victim.

Draco was the last one to arrive at

Azkaban, having directed Pansy and
Theo to leave before him. He ignored
the expression of annoyance on Alecto
Carrow's face and the way Bellatrix was
licking someone's blood off her wand.
He didn't know whose blood it belonged
too and, frankly, didn't want to know
either.
He studied the group of eight in front of
him, knowing that Blaise was
somewhere far off, hidden by a
disillusionment charm. Theo seemed
eager - night missions were his
favourite; while Pansy stared up at the
sky, her eyebrows knitting together as
she noticed the Dementors high up
above.
"We'll split into two groups," Draco
directed, as everyone listened intently.
"Nott, Braddock, Rhodes, Parkinson,
you're with Bellatrix. Start from the east
wing, work your way towards the
middle. Donalds, Carrow, Pritchard,
you're with me. Keep your eyes peeled
for Dolohov - he's the most important
prisoner the Dark Lord wants freed. You
know what you have to do," he briefly
caught Pansy's eye and she gave a subtle
nod. "Let's begin."
Bellatrix was the first to take off,
navigating with ease on her broom. The
others followed. Draco led his group
swiftly to the west wing, steeling himself
as he flew discreetly just below the
Dementors.
"Don't fuck this up, Donalds," he
snapped, steadying Maisie's broom
when she swerved. Despite the bold
expression on her face, he could tell that
she was a bundle of nerves, and the last
thing he wanted was the Dementors
detecting their presence before they even
began.
Behind them, Alecto Carrow chuckled,
murmuring something mocking under her
breath, and Maisie blushed.
"Sorry." Maisie mumbled, taking a deep
breath and focusing on flying. Draco
noticed that she kept close to him
thereafter, which was better than falling
off her broom anyway.
Thank Merlin for the spell that he and
Blaise had invented sometime back. It
provided a temporary shield to prevent
the Dementors from tracking them down,
which Draco had surreptitiously cast on
the entire group before they even began.
Add on to the fact that he, Blaise, Pansy
and Theo had dosed themselves with the
numbing potion earlier on and this plan
was practically foolproof.
Only it wasn't entirely foolproof.
Because the moment Draco and his
group landed in the west wing, Alecto
Carrow began to frown, her eyes
narrowing as she stared at the
Dementors floating unpeturbed around in
the sky outside.
"Strange. They don't usually leave us
alone. When MacNair led us the
previous time, we were swamped by
Dementors within minutes. What the hell
did you do - "
Aggravated, Draco hit her with a
Silencing curse. He was thoroughly
tempted to remove the shield from
Carrow and let the Dementors suck the
life from her measly body. "You didn't
fucking succeed because you couldn't
shut your bloody mouth," he said flatly,
leading the way down the dark corridor.
There was no need to keep their voices
down - all around, the prisoners wailed
and howled and made an altogether
terrible, despairing atmosphere.
When they finally arrived at the
individual prison cells, Draco waved
the group off. "Let's split from here. Free
as many as you can." Maisie and Alecto
went their own separate ways, but Draco
frowned when he realised that Graham
Pritchard was still standing nearby.
"What?"
Graham shrugged. "I'm kind of nervous,
mate. Haven't been on a mission like this
before."
Draco ignored him and began to undo the
locks on the nearest door. But he didn't
tell Graham to leave either. After all, he
recognised Graham Pritchard as a
fellow Slytherin several years younger.
And as much as Slytherins could be
arses, they didn't turn their backs on each
other.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Blaise had been shadowing Maisie

Donalds for sometime now. Knowing
that Pansy couldn't possibly reach
Maisie in time since she was stuck with
the other group, Blaise had taken it upon
himself to view her memories instead.
He tried to ignore the screams and cries
of the prisoners as he wandered down
the corridor, keeping a safe distance
away from Maisie. She finished the first
row, sending the prisoners on their way
with a portkey, and Blaise waited until
she turned into a dark alcove before
stepping towards her.
Maisie didn't even know what was
coming until it hit her. Hit by a body-
binding curse from out of nowhere, she
felt herself go completely rigid. There
was no one around at all and she felt her
heart race in fear.
"I do apologise for this," came a deep,
warm drawl; before something pointed
tapped her forehead lightly.
"Legilimens."
Maisie felt her memories flood through
her mind all at once. Happy ones, sad
ones; good ones, painful ones. She saw
her mother rushing down the stairs to hug
her after she'd passed her exams with
flying colours. She saw her father being
killed in the crossfire during the war.
And also saw her uncle bringing her to
the Dark Lord and encouraging her to
receive the dark mark. She saw all those
and every other memory in between. It
seemed like years of her life just flashed
before her very eyes, like a cinematic
film with people and events and
everything crystal clear. And then it was
over in the blink of an eye.
"Thanks for standing so still," the person
continued, sounding rather amused.
"Now just relax."
And then he was whispering something
in her ear, an incantation that she
couldn't quite decipher because he said
it so quickly and so smoothly it seemed
almost rehearsed.
When Maisie blinked again, she realised
that she was sprawled on the floor. She
wasn't hurt at all, but she did catch sight
of a tiny, traitorous piece of rock nearby.
And she thought to herself, I can't
believe I tripped again, I'm such a klutz.
It was as though the previous minute
hadn't happened at all.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Theo had always sworn on Salazar's
grave that he could sense danger before
it came. He had something like
heightened senses - well, apart from
Pansy who had the nose of a bloodhound
once every full moon - and he firmly
believed that was what made him one
hell of a fighter.
And so, when he felt the air change, he
knew that something was about to
happen. He quickly finished unlocking
the charms on the door and waved the
prisoner out. His lips curled in disgust
when the bedraggled woman flung
herself on him. With his wand, he
quickly shifted her a good distance
away, waving several other prisoners
over to take care of her.
He tossed one of them a Portkey. "The
Dark Lord wishes to see all of you two
days from now. Be sure to know where
your loyalties lie."
Without waiting for their response, he
strode off, disappearing down the
stairwell. He caught a glimpse of the sky
outside and realised that he wasn't
wrong at all. The Dementors were
beginning to gather; their floating bodies
descending towards the prison. Tugging
on the invisible chain on his neck, he
grabbed the phial attached at the bottom
and murmured a quick incantation to
light it up. The phial began to glow,
sharp gleaming embers in the dark.
R UN

Stuffing the phial back into his shirt, he

relished the way it burned against his
skin. It was just the right amount of heat,
a slight stinging but definitely bearable
pain. It was like playing with fire but
never getting burnt.
Zipping up his jacket to hide the glowing
phial, he descended down the stairs,
ignoring the cries of the other prisoners
on the way down. Dolohov. He needed
to get Antonin Dolohov, one of the top-
ranking Death-Eaters, or this mission
would've been all for nothing.
He paused at the bottom step when a
Dementor floated by and held his breath.
Draco had said that Dementors were
completely blind, but that only meant
their other senses were strong as hell.
He wasn't going to take any bloody
chances.
Once the Dementor had passed, Theo
slipped silently down the corridor,
casting Sonorus spells on arbitrary
prisoners to mask his own footfalls. But
he was waylaid when one prisoner in
particular called out for him.
"Please, just let me out," the man said.
His face was cleaner than most, eyes
more lucid and sane. Theo quickly
deduced that he hadn't been imprisoned
for long. "I can't bear another second in
here."
Theo gazed at him calmly. "Tell me
where Antonin Dolohov is."
"I-I can't remember," the man stuttered.
"I saw him sometime ago, I think he was
-"
"Not good enough," said Theo, pointing
his wand calmly at the man's temple.
"Legilimens."
In a flash, he saw the man watching as
Antonin Dolohov was dragged off
downstairs. That much Theo managed to
get from a hurried Legilimency. He had
no doubt Draco or Pansy or Blaise could
do much better, but he was a fighter, not
a bloody mind-reader.
After freeing the man and handing him a
portkey, Theo hurried off before the man
could reply. He stopped when he spotted
a familiar mop of untameable hair.
Bellatrix was skipping down the
corridor, happily freeing other prisoners
and handing out portkeys.
"Lestrange!" Bellatrix whirled round
wildly, and he gestured her over.
"Dolohov's in the basement. The
Dementors are coming."
Bellatrix simply grinned, following
Theo down at a more leisurely pace,
letting out short barks of laughter every
now and then. She wasn't afraid and
Theo knew why. Draco had told him that
normal Dark Wizards like Bellatrix
didn't need to be afraid of the
Dementors, because they were just as
evil.
The very fact that he, Draco, Blaise,
Pansy and several other Death-Eaters
were deathly terrified of Dementors
could only mean one thing - that they just
weren't plain evil. Not yet, anyway.
Theo took a strange sort of comfort in
knowing that.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Run. Run. Run.

The phial hanging on Pansy's neck
seemed to burn hotter than ever. The
sharp stinging heat was only a figment of
her imagination but she hated it. It was
making her feel irrational bouts of panic,
panic that the Dementors would
absolutely feed off if the numbing spell
and protective shield wore off. She had
a feeling it already did, thanks to the tiny
traitorous object pressed against her
abdomen.
She'd already used Legilimency on
Malcolm Braddock and Guthrie Rhodes.
Draco had told her not to touch Bellatrix
because she was both lethal and
formidable, and her mind was locked up
tight.
So that only left Alecto Carrow and
Maisie Donalds. They were both in
Draco's group, and Pansy had to travel
across the entire building to get to them;
but she hadn't caught a glimpse of either.
She unlocked doors on the way, tossing
out portkeys to every tenth prisoner she
met and hoping that they'd have the sense
to escape before the Dementors came
descending towards them.
There was only one problem. She didn't
have a portkey, and she only realised it
mere minutes ago, when she found that
the key she'd kept for herself had fallen
out of her pocket by accident. She had
been searching for her fellow Death-
Eaters or prisoners since then, hoping to
find someone who could get her the hell
out of her.
Apparition was out of the question.
Azkaban's anti-apparition wards were
locked tighter than even Bellatrix's mind.
And then she stopped when she finally
saw them.
Tall, black, ghastly figures that were
flying across the courtyard. The shield
had long evaporated and as she felt a
slow surge of fear grip her heart, she
knew that the numbing spell was
wearing out too.
Mumbling under her breath, she cast
another numbing spell on herself. But her
fingers were shaking terribly and the
incantation was weak. And when she
rounded the corner, a scream caught in
her throat as she came face to face with
a Dementor.
She held her wand out in front of herself
protectively. "Expecto Patronum!"
It came out weak, a small, sudden burst
just enough to frighten that one away. But
then there were more behind it. Faceless
grim reapers looming ominously in front
of her, far too many to count.
Pansy froze.
"Parkinson!" It was Theo, who was on
the stairwell on the adjacent building.
He was with Bellatrix and they were
struggling to carry a prisoner between
them. He looked deathly pale, frightened
not for himself but for her. "Get out of
there!"
His words spun her into action and she
gripped her wand tightly. She cast out
another faint white light in front of her,
dispersing two more Dementors, before
turning on her heels and running for her
life.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Draco ignored the heat on his phials as
he trailed Alecto Carrow down the
hallway. She was a sneaky one, undoing
the locks quickly and slipping off before
he could even properly corner her.
When he approached the next stairwell,
he came face to face with a Dementor.
Casting another numbing spell on
himself, he stood silently, waiting until
the Dementor had floated past before
continuing on his way.
Where the fuck was that woman?
The corridors were now empty by then,
since he'd freed all the prisoners at a
rapid pace, and he had no doubt some of
the other Death-Eaters were equally as
proficient in undoing locks. Then he
heard a faint noise from the other end
and he rushed over, catching a glimpse
of a stringy ginger hair before Alecto
Carrow ran off.
He was so caught up in Alecto Carrow
that he didn't see the shadow behind him,
or the flash of light shooting out from the
person's wand.
"Incarcerous!"
And then Draco felt thick ropes wind
round his body, squeezing the life out of
him. He stumbled to his knees, dropping
his wand along the way and was dragged
out of the shadows, coming face to face
with a familiar person.
Graham Pritchard let a slow cruel smirk
curve his lips as he stared down at
Draco. "Always watch your back,
Malfoy."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Pansy!"
The call came from the other end of the
corridor. Pansy halted momentarily, eyes
widening when she saw Maisie Donalds
beckoning her over frantically. In her
hands was Pansy's ticket out - a portkey.
Without a moment's hesitation, Pansy
immediately sprinted over to the other
girl, but slowed when Dementors
approached Maisie from the other end.
"Maisie, watch your back!" Pansy
yelled, and the girl whirled round,
holding out her wand protectively as the
black figures flew over swiftly. Quick as
thought, Pansy flung out another
defensive spell to protect Maisie from
far away. "Expecto Patronum!"
But you couldn't cast one without happy
thoughts and happiness was the farthest
thing from Pansy's mind at that moment.
She continued to run towards Maisie but
stopped abruptly when she realised that
there was no way she could make it in
time without the Dementors reaching
Maisie first.
"Go," Pansy ordered the girl. "Get the
hell out of here!"
Maisie's eyes widened. "But - "
"Leave! Now!"
Giving one last desperate look around,
Maisie gave up and vanished with the
portkey.
And then Pansy was left alone, with the
blackness closing in. Steeling herself,
she casted several Patronus charms one
after another, but they were close, far too
close, and she could see them, feel them
feeding off her fear. Several of them
were mere steps away, lowering their
bodies to get closer to her face. She bit
back her lip to hold off a terrified
scream as she braced herself and waited
for them to suck every positive memory
she ever harboured in her mind.
Only the Dementors never came,
because a blinding flash came from the
right, blasting a hoard of them away.
And Pansy let out a shuddering breath of
relief when she saw a familiar wolf-
shaped Patronus charging through the
foray, dispersing Dementors in every
different direction.
She glanced over, only to see Blaise
grinning widely, tossing his wand
flippantly in his hand. "You're
welcome."
"I knew I dated you for a reason," she
returned, before going straight into his
arms, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to
his jaw. "Believe me, you haven't seen
my gratitude yet. I shall repay you in full,
you can be rest-assured of that."
Blaise's eyebrows shot up, an intrigued
smile playing on his lips as he eagerly
held out a Portkey. "Let's go then."
"What about Draco? Theo?"
"Theo's gone with Bellatrix and
Dolohov. I saw Draco a good half-hour
ago, and I haven't seen anyone else
since."
Pansy hesitated. She knew Draco could
take care of himself but she worried
because he couldn't cast a Patronus. And
she worried even more when she thought
of the brown-haired, wide-eyed girl in
his room possibly waiting up all night
for him.
"Stick to the plan, baby," Blaise added,
casting a wary eye around for any
incoming Dementors.
As much as she didn't want to, Pansy
knew that Blaise was right. Draco's
plans were naturally foolproof; he was a
natural-born leader and things had only
gone awry because she'd lost her bloody
Portkey.
Smiling up at Blaise, she grabbed the
Portkey and slipped her hand through his
with the other.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco didn't even wince as Graham shot

another singing hex at him; this time
sending a sharp, searing pain on his
chest, barely missing his heart by
several inches. The bloody ropes were
cutting into him, slicing their way
through his skin, but Draco could hardly
care less. All he was looking for was the
bloody wand he'd dropped earlier.
"They've been keeping an eye on you for
a bloody long time," Graham spat,
flinging another hex at him, but Draco's
ears were pricked.
This was the person they were looking
for. Not Alecto Carrow.
"They?" Draco demanded boldly, "who
are they?"
Graham halted. And Draco took the
opportunity to loosen his hand from the
rope, silently summoning his wand over
to him. He quickly undid the ropes from
around him before getting up and
storming over to Graham, fury glinting in
his silver eyes.
"Who the hell are you working for,
Pritchard?"
"Expelliarmus!"
Draco didn't flinch as the curse
practically bounced off him. Thank
Merlin for his idea and Blaise's wisdom.
"Try again, wanker," he growled, still
heading for Graham, who was flinging
hex after hex after him. With his wand,
Draco deflected them easily; each and
every single one of them.
Graham's eyes narrowed. "Imperio!"
"Not the killing curse?" Draco drawled,
reaching over and grabbing Graham by
the collar of his shirt. "What a fucking
pity." Draco quickly disarmed him,
before clocking him on the nape of his
neck swiftly.
Graham was immediately out like a
light, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.
But Draco didn't have long, because out
of the corner of his eye, he saw the
Dementors swarming towards him, like
bees to a hive. Hastily yanking the
portkey from the pocket of his jacket,
Draco placed Graham's hand on it and
transported them out of Azkaban.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Unlike the other portkeys, the silver

coloured portkey Draco had led them
back to the apartment instead of the
outskirts of Azkaban. And it wasn't until
Draco reached the apartment that he felt
his knees give out beneath him. He
dropped Graham on the floor before
collapsing himself, amidst horrified
gasps from Pansy and Blaise. Only Theo
had the sense to support him before he
could completely fall over.
"What the hell happened?" Theo
demanded, leading him over to the
nearest chair, and Pansy hovered
anxiously near them. Blaise immediately
hurried into the kitchen to grab some
healing potions.
Draco narrowed his eyes at Graham,
who was lying in an unmoving heap on
the floor. "Fucking Pritchard tried to use
the Imperius curse on me. I suspect he's
working for someone. Tie him up, I need
to use Legilimency on him."
Theo immediately did the necessary
steps, levitating Graham to the nearest
chair and binding him magically with
ropes; while Pansy dashed into the
storage room to get phials. When they
were gone, Draco couldn't help but
sneak a glance over at his room. He
wondered if the muffling spells had
worn off and if Hermione could hear
every word that was said.
"Draco," Blaise came out of the kitchen,
his eyebrows knitted with worry as he
handed Draco a cup of green liquid.
Draco immediately drank. "You should
really get some rest, let us handle this."
"I'm fine."
But he really wasn't. Draco hadn't
noticed it earlier, being so pent up with
fury directed at Graham that he didn't
feel his injuries. But he clearly felt it
now - hot, stinging welts on his body
from the multiple hexes and a possible
sprained ankle when Graham first hit
him with an Incarcerous spell.
"Blaise's right," Theo said, settling
down next to Draco. His stance was
almost protective, and he kept watching
Graham out of the corner of his eye.
"You don't look good, mate."
"I'm fine."
Pansy came back out with the phials and
Draco stood, ignoring the way his body
ached painfully with the effort. Striding
over to Graham, he held the wand to his
temple, casting a wordless Legilimens.
Graham's memories immediately
flooded his mind and Draco found
himself practically seething as he
analysed the important bits.
Looking up, he realised that the other
three were watching him with anxious
faces. He grabbed the empty phial from
Pansy and began to pull Graham's
memories out. "Yaxley placed him under
an Imperius curse, with the direct orders
to put me under one as well," Draco said
flatly, handing the phial back to Pansy
when he was done. "You three can view
it in your own spare time."
They were all silent, until Theo cleared
his throat. "Right. So what're we going
to do with him?"
Draco didn't answer. He turned back to
Graham, before bringing the wand to the
boy's forehead. Quietly, his words a
mere mumble, he began to lift the
Imperius curse. It took a good three
minutes, but gradually, Graham's
shoulders seemed to slacken, his head
dipping down in a more comfortable
position. He still remained unconscious.
When Draco was finally done, he took a
step back. "The curse is gone. You two,"
he pointed at Pansy and Blaise.
"Obliviate the incident at Azkaban and
plant a fake one instead - I want him to
believe that Yaxley tried to kill him. And
you," he turned to Theo, who
immediately sat up straighter. "Send him
back home."
Theo's mouth fell open. "Are you fucking
kidding me?"
"Do I look like I'm fucking kidding?"
"Well, that's true. But - " Theo's scowled
at the sleeping boy, his eyes narrowing
in annoyance. " - let's just dump him
somewhere. Oh, let's put him back at
Azkaban."
Draco shrugged dismissively and headed
towards his room. "Do what you want.
I'm done for the night - "
"Draco, wait," Blaise stopped him,
laying a concerned hand on Draco's
shoulder. "I could look over your
injuries if you want; make sure there's no
internal bleeding."
"It's fine, I just need sleep."
"But - "
"Blaise, baby, let Draco sleep," Pansy
interjected, smiling at Blaise in a sultry
manner. "I do believe we have some
unfinished business here, and I don't
mean anything to do with Graham."
Draco levelled her a look, which she
returned with a surreptitious wink.
Before anyone could stop him, he
disappeared back into his room, shutting
the door behind him. Pansy glanced
round at the three other boys in the room,
before clapping her hands swiftly.
"Right, let's get to work."
"I can't believe we're not going to do
something to him," grumbled Theo,
collapsing down on the sofa.
Blaise gazed at him with interest. "Like
what?"
"...something Death-Eatery."
"That's brilliant. First-rate idea. All hail
the clever Theodore Nott."
"Fine, how about an Avada? Clever
enough for you?" Theo began to sit up,
aiming his wand at the sleeping Graham,
only for Pansy to smack him on the head.
"Draco said to send him back home. And
if Draco wants to show kindness to
someone who's supposedly an enemy
then who are we to stop him? Besides,
Pritchard was under the Imperius curse.
He didn't know better."
"Pritchard?" Theo snorted in derision.
"More like Prat-chard."
Blaise's lips twisted upwards in
amusement. "Now that's clever."
10 | brackium

10
b r a c ki ume me nd o
Mends bones.

Draco couldn't help but wince when he

saw the look of horror on Hermione's
face when she saw him. He was wrong
to presume that she had been asleep. The
phial of sleeping draught was sitting on
the dresser completely untouched, which
could only mean that Hermione had
spent the past few hours waiting for him.
No wonder she looked a complete
wreck - eyes puffy, nose runny and hair
frizzled in every different direction.
Not that he looked that much better. He
definitely wasn't a sight for sore eyes
now.
"Draco," Hermione gasped, immediately
scrambling off the bed and making her
way to him. She almost tripped on the
way over, and he had to reach forward,
grabbing her round the waist to steady
her. She was warm, her body heat
spreading through him like a glow as she
unconsciously leaned into him. Her
fingers reached for his face but she
paused, hardly daring to touch the
scratches. "What happened?"
Draco shook his head. "I got attacked."
"By who - no, wait, that's not important.
Sit down," she hastily pulled him
towards the bed, her hands gripping
tightly onto his shoulders to push him
down. "You have to get those cuts fixed
and - "
She disappeared into the bathroom
quickly. Draco stared after her, his
breath caught in his throat and hardly
able to believe his eyes. She wasn't even
stammering. Merlin, she sounded so like
her old self - organised and level-
headed and...
" - you'll be fine, Draco," she re-
emerged from the bathroom, a wet towel
in hand. Her face was alight with fear
and determination all at once. She
looked every bit the tenacious
Gryffindor she had once been, but
different all the same - because never
once had her concern been directed at
him before in the past.
And that made a world of difference.
Hermione quickly settled next to him on
the bed, pressing the warm towel against
his face to clean the cuts and scratches.
Her movements were steady and
assured, and Draco couldn't quite take
his eyes off her.
"You'll be fine," she repeated calmly, her
eyes still brimming with unshed tears but
she spoke without a single bit of
hesitation. Once she was done with his
face, she moved on to his arms. Her eyes
caught the awkward angle his foot was
turned in and she quickly knelt down and
reached for it. "Did you sprain it?"
Draco was hardly ever left speechless,
but this was one of those rare few times.
Wordlessly, he nodded.
"We have to ice it then," Hermione
rushed back into the bathroom. Several
moments later, she came back out with a
new towel and a basin of water. "Freeze
this please," she lifted the basin towards
him.
Draco stared at her for awhile, then at
the basin, and then back to her; an idea
suddenly forming in his head. He shook
his head slowly. "No."
"What? Draco, you have to - "
"You do it."
Instantly, he saw Hermione shrink back,
her eyes widening with apprehension.
"W-what?"
Draco reached for the spare wand on the
dresser, ignoring the pain shooting
through his ribs with that single action,
and held it out to her. "Go on."
"N-no! I can't - I can't do magic anymore
-"
"Granger," he pinned her with a levelled
look. "I'm in a fucking lot of pain right
now and I think my rib is cracked. You
had better fix this before I die on you."
Her mouth fell open in horror. "Don't say
that!" She grabbed the wand from him
unthinkingly, and reached forward to lift
his bloodied shirt.
Draco pulled it over his head easily,
tossing it aside and showing her the
general area of his bruised ribs, before
gesturing with his hands the movement
for the healing spell. "Brackium
Emendo."
He watched intently as Hermione
murmured the words under her breath,
making sure she pronounced it correctly
before she held the wand to his
abdomen. "Brackium Emendo."
She said it so smoothly and easily; it
was almost like she was back at
Hogwarts practicing spells. Draco was
so captivated by the fired determination
on her face and the uninhibited worry in
her eyes that he didn't notice the magic
flow through the wand and seep into his
skin. Then he felt a scorching, searing
pain as the crack in his ribs sealed itself
together and he couldn't quite stop the
expletive from slipping past his lips.
"Fuck."
Hermione instantly drew back in fright,
dropping the wand down and gasping.
"Did I hurt you? I-I'm so sorry, I didn't
mean to, I - "
"Hermione, it's fine," he quickly reached
forward to pull her back, curling his
finger gently round her shoulders. "My
ribs are fine now. The spell worked."
Her eyes grew round and she
absentmindedly reached over to drag her
fingertips lightly across his ribs. He
automatically sucked in a deep breath,
his muscles automatically contracting
under her touch. Not because of the pain
- there was none, and if there were any,
it had all been forgotten - but because of
the iciness of her skin, the way they lit
his nerve-ends on fire in their wake.
Fire and ice. Nothing had ever felt quite
so pleasurable before, and all from a
single, brief touch.
"The spell worked?"
Draco dragged his eyes back to her face
and saw the expression of surprise and
wonderment in her eyes. "Yes."
"Oh," and then an indescribable joy
came over her, her lips curling into the
widest smile and her eyes dancing
shades of gold in the moonlight. She
reached forward to grasp his hands,
interlacing her fingers with his easily,
"I'm so glad the spell worked, I'm so
glad you're alright."
Fascinated by the light in her eyes and
the turn of her lips, Draco instinctively
lifted his palm to her face. Her skin was
smooth under his calloused palm and she
automatically leaned into his touch,
letting out a tiny sigh slip past her lips.
Her scent invaded his senses, it was
familiar, a fresh, sweet scent that he
could practically taste; and when her
eyes flickered briefly down to his lips,
something just clicked, something just
fell into place. And so when she
tightened her grip on his hand, he drew
closer and her eyelids fluttered shut,
lashes fanning out against her high
cheekbones. He leaned in but as her
unsteady breath glossed his skin, he
blinked.
And the moment was lost.
Draco immediately veered back, his
chest tightening painfully as he took
several deep breaths to calm himself and
swore in his head. For Merlin's sake,
what the fuck was that?
Hermione's gaze was confused and
faintly disappointed, like she had been
waiting, anticipating for something,
anything to happen. But he banished that
thought quickly and picked up the wand
from the floor and held it out to her.
"You still haven't learnt the other healing
spells yet."
She smiled faintly, before shaking her
head. "I-I don't think I can, Draco. I don't
want to - that was just...once and what if
I don't, w-what if the second - "
"It's fine," he quickly hushed her and set
the wand back on the dresser. "You did
well, Granger."
"Hermione," she reminded him, her
brown eyes kind and understanding, and
Draco didn't know how she did that.
He didn't understand how she seemed to
know that whenever he was calling her
'Granger' instead of 'Hermione', and it
wasn't for teasing purposes, then it
simply meant that he was trying to back
away because he'd gotten too damned
close for his own good, that he was
becoming far too fucking attached and he
couldn't let it happen.
"I'll still try to mend your ankle, though,"
Hermione continued softly. "Through
conventional, muggle methods." She
lifted the basin to him.
This time, he froze the water without
another word.
He watched as she went to work,
breaking the ice in the basin and stuffing
it into the towel before icing his ankle.
He felt the chill seep into his bones and
silently berated himself for being such a
fucking prick through and through.
He didn't know what Hermione wanted -
well, actually, he could hazard a guess
and he'd guessed for quite awhile now -
but he couldn't give it to her. He wasn't
that person she thought he was, the
person who supposedly 'saved' her, the
person who was innately good.
But he knew better than anyone else that
he fucking wasn't.
Instead, he was just that thick-headed
bully he used to be back at Hogwarts,
just a more frightening, more lethal,
weaponised version of his old self. And
there were too many monsters inside his
head and there were too many monsters
out there in the world that he had to get
rid of. He was a massive fuck-up, he
was evil and he was a Death-Eater;
while she was the one pure, unblemished
spot in this fucked-up world, and he
couldn't destroy her.
Because he would. He knew he would.
Eventually.
So he sat unmoving as she cleaned his
cuts and iced his bruises. Her concern
was humbling and he stared at the
furrow on her forehead and traced the
faint scar curving down the side of her
face with his eyes as she worked. When
she was done, she pushed him gently
down onto the bed, pulling the covers
over him.
"Go to sleep," she whispered. She
leaned over him, brushed the blond
locks out of his eyes and pressed her
lips to his forehead. He stifled an
involuntary shiver but couldn't keep his
eyes from falling shut. She pulled away
far too quickly and settled on his chair.
"Goodnight, Draco."
She reached for his hand but he flinched
away, turning on his side to face the wall
instead. He could practically feel her
sad eyes watching him, boring holes into
his head.
Sleep wasn't going to come easy tonight.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The streets of Whitehall were deserted
in the morning, with pale buildings and
empty roads and the echo of the wind
ricocheting off the pavements. Blaise
stood at the junction, leaning against the
lamppost with a bored expression on his
face as he pretended to be engrossed in
the newspaper he was holding. But
every now and then, he cast a sharp gaze
around in search for something, or
someone.
Finally, after a good twenty-minute wait,
Blaise straightened and strode quickly
towards the man who had just exited the
building opposite. "Pritchard," Blaise
greeted cordially, when he was within
earshot. But his hand was gripping the
wand in his pocket tightly, just in case.
Graham Pritchard jumped in fright,
before whirling around, his eyes wide
and guarded. He stared at Blaise
suspiciously before nodding, "Zabini."
Blaise grinned. "Little jumpy there.
Everything alright, mate?"
Graham nodded far too quickly. "Yes, of
course." He resumed his swift pace but
Blaise had no trouble in keeping up with
him.
"Listen," Blaise began, his voice low. "I
know you're in trouble."
Graham froze. "What?"
"Yaxley's trying to kill you, I know that."
"How did you - "
Because we planted the bloody memory
in your head. "Because we've been
tracking Yaxley," Blaise said instead.
"He's a sly one. Got a lot of people on
his hit list. You're one of them."
"We?" Graham frowned. "Who's we?"
"That's a secret. But we've got your
back, Pritchard. You don't have to worry
about anything."
"Well, thank Merlin," Graham breathed
in relief, before turning to Blaise. "The
bastard tried to kill me last night in
Azkaban. Someone used a portkey and
got me out in time, but I blacked out after
that. One of you, I presume?"
"Yes. Like I said, we've got your back.
Now I hope you've got ours?"
"Of course," Graham didn't miss a beat.
Blaise grinned. This was too fucking
easy. "What do you need help with?"
"Nothing much. Just keep your eyes and
ears peeled for new information, if you
happen to catch any. And always watch
your back," Blaise added, before
stepping away and waving a quick
goodbye. "Catch you later, Pritchard."
"You too, Zabini. Thanks for the help."
Blaise watched Pritchard disappear into
the next building. Draco had once again
steered them in the right direction. By
planting in that fake memory and going to
double check on him the morning after,
they were now certain that Graham was
on the look out for Yaxley or any
potential murderers on the loose. He
was now quite unwittingly on their side.
Which was a good thing, of course. The
more people they had on their side, the
better. Draco and Theo might enjoy the
tight circle, refusing to trust anyone apart
from the people living in their apartment,
but Blaise always figured that it couldn't
hurt to get one or two more allies.
Just in case.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When Blaise returned back to the

apartment, he found the place empty,
along with a note on the kitchen counter
from Pansy addressed to him.

Gone to the black market. D and T gone

to shag.

Blaise let out a snort of laughter. He and

Pansy had a bet going on for years now
that Draco and Theo had a little thing
going on at the side. It wasn't entirely
implausible - Theo seemed to look up to
Draco a lot, and Draco had a soft spot
for Theo and had personally trained him
when he first started out as a Death-
Eater. Pansy figured that Theo's
countless slags and Draco's isolation
was just a cover for their mutual
attraction.
Blaise, on the other hand, simply scoffed
at the idea. Theo might be a little open to
some kink, but Blaise had grown up with
Draco and knew him well. Draco was
just that sullen, and he'd been this way
ever since he became a Death-Eater.
Anyway, the bet had died down for
awhile now. But Pansy and Blaise still
used 'gone to shag' as a sort of code for
when Draco and Theo headed out
together, whether to get drunk or to go on
a mission.
It was for the best, Blaise quickly
decided. The house was quiet, a much-
needed silence in hectic times like these.
He loved Pansy to death but the girl
could chatter a mile a minute. Blaise
decided to brew potions to restock their
shelves. It wouldn't hurt, especially
during a war, where every mission sent
you straight into various death traps.
Blaise got out the phials and ingredients,
rearranging them on the kitchen counter
as he'd done dozens of times before.
Then he went back into his room to get
his potion books, emerging with seven
books altogether, but the eighth was still
missing.
It was probably with Draco.
Letting out a lengthy sigh, Blaise headed
for Draco's room. He didn't have any
difficulty undoing the locks. Several
months ago, he, Pansy and Theo had
gathered in front of Draco's door and
figured out the locks on their own.
They'd felt pretty damned accomplished
soon after, but thought it would be best
to pretend to Draco that they didn't know
anything.
Although, Blaise wouldn't put it past
Draco to have already figured out that
they all knew. He was just bloody clever
that way - a far different kind of clever
from Blaise; not the kind based on
knowledge but on intuition.
Blaise finally finished undoing the locks,
and he pushed the door open, stepping
into the room. He noticed that the bed
was unmade, properly slept in, and there
was a leather armchair beside the bed.
That little detail detail made him frown,
because it almost seemed like someone
had sat next to the bed the previous
night.
Maybe Theo.
Merlin, was Pansy actually right about
Draco and Theo?
Shaking his head in amusement, Blaise
wandered further into the room, using
wandless magic to open the doors of
Draco's impressive library. He was
waylaid when he found a classic that
he'd once studied in Hogwarts but had
forgotten over time. After scanning the
first few pages, Blaise laid it on the
table, intending to borrow it along with
the potions book.
But then he paused when he heard a
sudden, unexpected shuffle. Years of
working as a Death-Eater had made him
alert to sounds, even if he wasn't alert as
Draco or Theo.
Blaise took a step back from the table,
turning to scan the room briefly. Maybe
he was just overthinking things, as usual,
but Blaise figured it was better to be
cautious. He went straight into the
bathroom, checking behind the door and
shower curtain. He looked behind the
shelves and under the desk and, finally,
under the bed.
And he almost collapsed with shock
when he saw familiar brown eyes
blinking in the darkness under the bed. A
face he hadn't seen since his Hogwarts
days. A face he'd assumed was long
missing because everyone said she was
dead. A face he figured was never going
to appear in his apartment, because his
flatmate used to hate her with every fibre
of his being.
"Shit!" Blaise blurted, his eyes widening
to the size of saucers.
Hermione Granger smiled weakly up at
him. "H-hello, Blaise."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Hermione watched nervously as Blaise
pace the room, his face flushed with
excitement and curiosity. He ran a hand
through his hair rapidly, murmuring
under his breath, "I can't believe it."
And then he turned to her. She
swallowed, her throat feeling
particularly dry.
"How long have you been staying in this
apartment?"
Hermione did a rapid count in her head.
It took awhile for her to come up with
the exact figure, so she had to give a
rough estimate. "Just - just over three
weeks."
"Three weeks? Well, I'll be damned.
Draco sure knows how to keep a secret,"
Blaise shook his head, laughing in
disbelief. "And where've you been all
this while?"
Hermione's mood dipped immediately.
She began to feel her heart bang
painfully against her chest, and she fisted
her fingers tightly on the pillow beside
her. "I - I don't really want...to..."
"Oh, it's fine," Blaise hurriedly
backtracked. "You don't have to tell me
that. I'm just glad to see you, Hermione."
She smiled, feeling rather pleased.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Might be kind of a shocker, since
us Slytherins don't naturally get along
with you Gryffindors. But in a war, it's
just good to see anyone, really. And I
never hated you the way Draco did, by
the way. I never hated you at all."
"I-I don't think anyone hated me the way
Draco used to," Hermione chuckled.
Blaise laughed in agreement. "It's just
good to have you back. The Order
thought you were dead, did you know
that?" He sat on the desk opposite
Hermione, pushing the books aside, his
initial interest in them all but forgotten.
"Draco says the Order disintegrated
after the war, but apparently, they've
been rebuilding it recently. The Order's
going to be psyched to have you back - "
Hermione's smile faded.
" - I can honestly say for sure that Potter
and Weasley will want you fighting by
their side. Because without you, they're a
brainless duo. But you're going to come
up with fantastic strategies and I have no
doubt that you'll be - " Blaise trailed off
as he suddenly noticed the way
Hermione visibly paled. "What's
wrong?"
"I - " she sounded faint.
Blaise immediately jumped off the desk.
"Shit, Hermione. I apologise for what I
said, do you not want to talk about - "
"Well, you sure do have all the tact in the
world."
Blaise and Hermione immediately
turned, only to see Pansy leaning against
the doorframe. She was watching them
with amusement, her arms folded
comfortably across her chest. Her lack
of surprise made Blaise's mouth fall
open as he quickly put two and two
together.
"Wait, you know about Hermione?"
Pansy ignored him, instead smiling
cheerfully at Hermione. "Morning,
Hermione. I see you've met my tactless
boyfriend and I can assure you that
nothing like this will ever happen again -
especially if I have a say in it. Draco
will be back in a half hour."
Blaise watched as Hermione visibly
brightened, her shoulders relaxing and
her lips curling upwards in a faint but
happy smile. He also noticed that she
was wearing one of Draco's jumpers and
had a phial dangling on a familiar-
looking chain around her neck. His
eyebrows shot up.
"Would you like some breakfast?" Pansy
glanced out to the living room and
waved a hand, sending a brown package
flying over. She reached inside and
pulled out an English muffin, along with
a packet of jam.
Hermione took it from her gratefully and
Pansy smiled at the girl. Then she
reached for her boyfriend, looping her
arm aggressively through his and
dragging him towards the door.
"Pansy?"
Both Pansy and Blaise stopped, turning
back slowly. Hermione was watching
them, her eyes soft and gaze open.
"Y-you can show him."
Pansy stilled, before nodding slowly. "If
that's what you want."
Hermione smiled faintly. "It is."
"Show me what - " Blaise began, but
Pansy yanked him out with a newfound
force. He only barely managed to grab
the Classic book before Pansy was
shutting the door, redoing Draco's locks
on it. Once outside, Blaise took the
brown paper bag from her, his face
falling as he realised it was completely
empty.
"Where's my breakfast?"
Pansy didn't even glance at Blaise as she
pulled him into the room where they kept
their inventory. "I gave your breakfast to
Hermione, you git. As a formal apology
for what you said." She locked their
door, casting muffling charms on the
room. When she was done, she turned to
him with a glare. "You."
"Me what?"
"If I wasn't so in love with you right now
I'd be hexing you left and right. How did
you find Hermione?"
Blaise shrugged and sat down on the
nearest stool. "I went in to borrow a
book from Draco's library. How did you
find out about her?" He levelled her an
accusatory glare, which she returned
evenly.
"I sniffed her out. I have heightened
senses, remember? And I caught her
scent on Draco. It was practically
overpowering."
"You caught her scent - wait," Blaise's
eyes narrowed. "That was more than two
weeks ago! And you knew and didn't tell
me?"
"Baby, you're the last person among the
lot of us who should find out about
Hermione. And that includes Theo," she
added firmly, when he opened his mouth
to argue. "You're excited about the Order
and can't wait for the war to end - I
know; but don't you see that Hermione
just can't handle it right now? Oh - "
Pansy inhaled sharply. "Draco will be so
furious when he finds out."
"Let me deal with Draco," Blaise hastily
assured her, knowing that his calm
demeanour was probably going to be the
best way to appease Draco when he was
in one of his moods. "But about
Hermione - what happened to her? She's
so...different."
"Well - " Pansy paused, before going to
the shelves and rummaging through the
phials. "What happened to her, that's not
something she can actually phrase into
words. I've viewed her memories - and
neither can I, for that matter. Too bloody
painful. Here," Pansy finally located a
box; well concealed at the back and in it
lay a single phial. "She said it was
alright for you to view it, so go ahead."
Reaching up a hesitant hand, Blaise took
it. He paused, gazing at Pansy. The tight,
sombre expression on her face made him
almost nervous.
She gestured to the Pensieve in the
corner. "Go ahead."
Blaise headed towards the Pensieve. He
uncapped the phial, watching as a stream
of silver trickled down into the bowl.
Bracing his arms on the side, he took a
deep breath and went in.
11 | alohomora

11
a l o ho mo r a
Unlocking charm.

When Draco returned home that night, he

paused by the doorway when he saw
Blaise sitting alone in the living room.
His friend was chugging a bottle of
Firewhisky - a highly unusual sight since
Blaise was the least inclined out of them
to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
Blaise noticed Draco watching him out
of the corner of his eye and grinned.
"Hey, mate, join me?"
Draco nodded, shutting the door behind
him and going over to sit in the chair
adjacent to Blaise's. Blaise tossed him a
bottle and he caught it easily. "Where're
the other two?"
"Theodore went to call on one of his
slags again," Blaise returned
dismissively, before gesturing vaguely to
Draco's room. "And Pansy's in there
with Hermione."
Draco visibly jolted in surprise and
Blaise chuckled. It wasn't often he could
get a kick out of Draco's normally
indifferent behaviour, and he was
thoroughly enjoying this. Although not as
much as he liked; because the things he'd
seen earlier that day were still flooding
his mind like a tidal wave never quite
ebbing away.
When Draco spoke, his voice was
guarded. "So you - "
" - found her? Yeah. I went in to borrow
a book from you and found her hiding
under the bed. By the way, you should
really change those locks on your door."
"It's fucking pointless; the three of you
would stand in front of my door puzzling
over the locks until you figure them out."
Blaise grinned. So his suspicions had
been right after all. Draco knew all this
while but believed they would respect
his privacy. In fact, Blaise was almost
certain that Draco knew all the locks on
their doors as well. He just didn't barge
in as and when he liked, as the rest of
them so often did.
"I viewed her memories," Blaise said,
after a moment's pause. Draco's eyes
flew to his, the expression in them hard
and almost dangerous. So this was what
Pansy had meant when she said he'd be
furious. "She told Pansy I could, so
Pansy gave me the phial."
"How bad were they?"
Blaise's eyes widened. "You mean you
haven't seen it?" When Draco shook his
head, Blaise frowned. "Aren't you even
the slightest bit curious?"
"Of course I fucking am. I just - "
Draco's eyes shuttered momentarily,
before he met Blaise's gaze evenly. " - I
don't know if I want to see them. I can't
decide if I want her to tell me either. I
just - I don't know if I actually want to
fucking risk knowing."
"Because you're terrified of the guilt,"
Blaise finished. "You've spent years
searching for her and you're scared to
see what happened to her throughout the
time when you couldn't find her. It's not
your fault, mate. You tried. We all did."
Draco looked at him in surprise.
Blaise smiled. "You think I didn't notice?
Draco, for years, you told us our task
was to search for informants, whether it
was traitors to the Order or to the Dark
Lord. Pansy and Theo may have bought
whatever bullshit you fed them, but I
never did. If searching for informants
was really to help the Order, then the
bloody Order would have been fighting
back by now. Instead all we did was to
prevent either side from knowing too
much about each other. Not much
progress, if you ask me. So of course I
knew you were just trying to get
information to find someone. Didn't
know it was Hermione Granger, though."
Draco sighed. "Sorry for wasting your
time."
"Don't apologise, mate, you did the right
thing. Finding Hermione is the best thing
that could happen for the Order. That
way, she can go back to Potter and
Weasley. Maybe give them hope and
some fighting spirit."
Draco didn't reply. The silence stretched
long and thin between them, and Blaise
finally smiled wryly.
"You don't want her to go back to the
Order, do you?"
"She's not in a good shape, Zabini. She
can barely recall anything about the
bloody Order."
"Yeah, I kinda figured that out on my
own." Draco shot him a look of
aggravation and Blaise smiled
sheepishly, before sobering up. "Pansy
and I agree on one thing, though. We both
think that Hermione should go back to
Potter and the Order. We're selfish that
way - we want the war to end. And if
bringing Hermione back is the way to do
it - then we're placing our bets on her.
We just want her to get better."
"And you think I don't fucking want
that?" Draco fixed stormy eyes on
Blaise, his lips curled in frustration.
Blaise was almost intrigued by the
myriad of emotions on his face. "Fuck,
Zabini, I want her to get better. But if it
comes at the price of going back to the
bloody Order and putting her life in
danger - "
"I didn't say that Pansy and I wanted her
to fight for the Order. I've seen what
Hermione's been through and," Blaise
drew in a deep, shuddering breath, "I'm
with you on that. I think she needs to stay
out of the battlefield."
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but
Pansy stepped out of his room at that
moment, her eyes alight with worry. She
shut the door carefully, placing a quick
muffling charm and looked at them.
"She's been worrying about you," Pansy
said, and Draco immediately stood up,
setting the bottle of Firewhisky down.
"She wants to know if your ankle's
better. I think you should go in."
Draco quickly strode towards his room.
But just before he could open the door,
Blaise's voice cut into the thick silence.
"Draco."
He paused, glancing slightly over his
shoulder. Blaise was surveying him with
an air of curiosity, but the gravity of his
tone made Draco brace himself for what
he had to say.
"Are you really afraid of her going back
to the Order, or are you afraid of her
remembering everything about her
friends and then forgetting everything
about you?"
Draco didn't answer. Squaring his
shoulders, he opened the door to his
room, slipped in and shutting it quickly
behind him.
Pansy turned to Blaise. And when he
patted the empty spot next to him, she
quickly went and sat, curling against him
and taking Draco's bottle of Firewhisky,
lifting it to her lips. She placed it back
down after two gulps. "So did you
notice?"
"Notice what?"
She rolled her eyes. "That Draco fancies
Hermione."
Blaise smirked. "I don't think fancy's a
proper word for it anymore. Works both
ways, too."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco found Hermione waiting

anxiously for him in the room. She
immediately clambered out of bed and
headed towards him, concerned lines
knitting on her forehead.
"Are you feeling better?" He froze when
she reached for him, her fingers curling
firmly around the sleeve of his jacket.
"Does your ankle still hurt? Or your
ribs?"
"I'm fine, Granger." He kept his
expression shuttered, his eyes cold and
indifferent. Pulling away from her gently,
he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed
it carelessly onto the back of the chair.
"You should be sleeping."
Hermione looked equal parts confused
and sad. "I-I was waiting for you."
"You shouldn't wait up for me in the
future."
"Oh."
Merlin, he felt like such a fucking prick.
But Blaise had hit the nail on the head
earlier; Draco was terrified that when
Hermione recalled the past, she'd no
longer look at him the same way she did
now, because there were just so many
better people had been in her life before.
Even saint Potter and that fucking
Weasel.
Blaise was right, he was terrified and he
was already in too deep not to be scared
shitless that she was going to leave
someday, that she would move on and
he'd be stuck in this shithole for all
eternity. The least he could do was to
save her before she spiralled down the
same destructive path that he was lying
at the bottom of.
"Draco?" Her voice drew him out
abruptly from his thoughts and he
glanced over at her warily. She was
sitting on the bed staring up at him with
sad brown eyes. "Did I...did I do
something wrong?"
"No," he returned bluntly. Settling down
on the armchair, he grabbed the phial of
sleeping draught and handed it to her.
"Go to sleep."
Hermoine sighed, but she ignored the
sleeping draught as she crawled under
the covers. Her hand automatically
reached for his, but when she realised
that his arms were firmly folded on his
lap, she recoiled and laid her hand back
down on the bed.
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath
and stared up at him. "W-will you stay?"
"Sleep, Granger."
Reluctantly, she closed her eyes and
pretended to go to sleep. Hardly ten
minutes later, he got up, picked up his
jacket and left the room.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco fiddled with his wand impatiently

as he waited beside the Dark Lord the
following afternoon. All the Death-
Eaters were already present, but they
were waiting as the prisoners that had
been freed from Azkaban two days ago
slowly trickled into the Malfoy Manor.
Only the purebloods were admitted,
while those who were half-bloods or
belonged to Muggle families were
promptly carried off and incarcerated in
the other bases. It had been more than
five minutes now, but the prisoners were
still entering in straggles.
"They're late," hissed Yaxley, who sat
two spots away from the other side of
the Dark Lord, right after Dolohov and
MacNair.
"It hasn't escaped my notice, Yaxley," the
Dark Lord returned with faint irritation.
Draco deliberately let out a short bark of
laughter, to which Yaxley flushed and
subsided. "My lord," Draco said calmly,
"I suggest we close the doors. It's
obvious to see that some of the prisoners
are ungrateful swines who couldn't care
less about loyalty. We don't need them
fighting our cause. Let them burn in the
crossfire."
The Dark Lord nodded in agreement,
before gesturing to Theo, who stood
behind him with Greyback. "Shut the
doors, young Nott."
"Yes, my lord."
Theo waved a quick hand at the doors
and they slammed shut. The sudden noise
startled most of the prisoners, who had
been chattering amongst themselves,
completely disregarding the presence of
the lethal Death-Eaters. Everyone turned
to the Dark Lord, who lips curled in a
faint, grotesque smile.
"Welcome," the Dark Lord began, with a
general nod in their direction. "I'm sure
you've all heard of me."
All of them nodded. Some looked
deathly terrified, while others squirmed
with unease. The occasional few still
seemed disoriented after their stint in
Azkaban, their eyes wide and almost
delirious.
"I see you've met some of my Death-
Eaters who helped you escaped two
days ago," the Dark Lord gestured to the
two on his left - Draco and Bellatrix.
Draco simply smirked lazily at them,
while Bellatrix let out a cackle of
laughter. "In return, all I'm asking for is
your allegiance to our cause. If you
would like to join our circle, you may
remain behind. If you leave, of course, I
can assure you that your survival will
not be for long. This is a war. And if you
are not with us, then by definition you
are against us."
The room was deathly silent.
After a moment's pause, the Dark Lord
turned to the snatchers standing behind
him, with Fenrir Greyback leading the
group. "Round these people up and bring
them to the hall. You know what to do if
they don't comply."
"Yes, my lord," Greyback responded
promptly.
When the last of the prisoners had been
herded out of the room, the Dark Lord
turned to MacNair. "What's next on our
agenda?"
The Death-Eater straightened in his seat,
and he flipped open his notepad. "The
Rebellion, my lord. There are exactly
three meeting places and I have them all
mapped out. Their headquarters is just
several miles from Hogwarts, but in all
likelihood, the wards are tight and there
will be more people."
"My lord, I can take down the
headquarters," Dolohov said quickly.
Draco noticed that his eyes were
bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept
in forever, and his appearance was
almost weary and haggard. Azkaban
definitely hadn't been kind to him. "I will
go down tonight, with - "
"Draco," the Dark Lord ignored him and
turned to the other side instead. "You
will bring your group to take down the
headquarters."
Draco couldn't quite keep the satisfied
smirk from blooming on his face when
he noticed Dolohov's barely concealed
aggravation. It was clear that Dolohov
had been kicked out of favour ever since
imprisonment, and his seat next to the
Dark Lord was merely out of
formalities.
"My lord," Draco began crisply, aware
that all eyes were on him, "I suggest that
we take it down all at once. Not just the
headquarters; but all three places, in a
single night. And if you will allow it, I
would like to select new members for
my team."
The Dark Lord nodded. "Take your
pick."
Draco immediately turned to Bellatrix.
He hated her, but she was one of his
safest bets. At least he knew she was
never going to stab him in the back, both
metaphorically and literally. And she
always got the job done, in her sick,
twisted way.
"Auntie dearest," he drawled, "care to
join my side again?"
Bellatrix grinned. "With pleasure,
Draco."
"You and your husband will join me on
this mission," Draco said, nodding at
Rodolphus Lestrange who sat beside her.
He then roved his eyes quickly round the
table, picking out potential candidates,
as well as people he knew he could
trust. "Crabbe senior, Goyle senior,
Scabior, Alecto Carrow, Malcolm
Braddock, Maisie Donalds and Blaise
Zabini. Ten this time. One more from the
previous nine. We should succeed this
time round, don't you think?" Draco
winked at MacNair, who clearly
remembered his previous voiced
concerns and was still annoyed that
Draco had gotten to pick a team.
MacNair scowled. Bellatrix laughed
mockingly at him.
When the meeting was over, and Draco
had helped to rearrange the other two
groups that would tackle the other
meeting places, the Dark Lord sent the
rest of the Death-Eaters out to where the
other prisoners were. The Death-Eaters
were to pick potential members to join
the inner circle, upon MacNair's request.
"I can see what you mean about MacNair
being not quite so trustworthy, Draco,"
the Dark Lord said, once the room had
cleared out. Only Draco and Bellatrix
had stayed behind, and Bellatrix was
listening to the exchange with interest.
Draco didn't quite mind. Over the years,
he had become extremely skilled at
Legilimency. If Bellatrix showed the
slightest signs of betrayal, he'd detect it
immediately. Her fanatic loyalty to the
Dark Lord also made it quite
implausible that she'd actually be a
traitor.
"He is far too insistent about expanding
the inner circle," the Dark Lord
continued, watching Walden MacNair
and the Death-Eaters surrounding him
outside suspiciously. "If I didn't know
better, I'd say that he has ulterior
motives."
"We don't know better. That's why we
must always be on our guard," Draco
reached into the pocket of his suit and
drew out a box. There were six phials
inside, each neatly marked with Pansy's
nondescript handwriting.
"The following phials contain the
memories of Theodore Nott, Graham
Pritchard, Guthrie Rhodes, Malcolm
Braddock, Maisie Donalds and Pansy
Parkinson respectively," Draco started,
deliberately leaving out the fact that the
memories were duplicates, and that
Pansy had already stored the original
ones back at the apartment. "I used
Legilimency on them during the mission
at Azkaban. You can view them if you
like, my lord. They're all trustworthy
members, except for Graham Pritchard,
who was under the Imperius Curse."
Bellatrix's mouth curled in disgust,
while the Dark Lord looked faintly
annoyed.
"He was put under the curse by Yaxley,
so that's another Death-Eater to look out
for. In the meantime, I've lifted the curse
and modified Pritchard's memories to
make it seem like Yaxley tried to murder
him, so that Pritchard will always be on
his guard. I'll be testing out the others the
next week, during the mission, while I've
picked Braddock, Donalds and Bellatrix
again," Draco gestured to his Aunt,
"because they're members I can trust."
"Quite a thorough system you have
there," the Dark Lord picked up the box,
studying the phials inside intently.
"Tedious, but it has to be done. We have
dealt with far too many defected Death-
Eaters to let our guards down, my lord."
"Yes, we have." The Dark Lord stood
up, clasping Draco briefly on the
shoulder. Draco tried to fight the chill
that threatened to race down his spine.
"You and Bellatrix may take your leave
first, while I see to the prisoners."
Draco waited until the Dark Lord had
glided out to the hall before standing and
heading towards the nearest exit. To his
greatest annoyance, Bellatrix followed.
Her hair was in disarray and she smelt
of something foul.
"The Dark Lord is very pleased with
you, Draco," she said, "even if he
wouldn't express it in words."
"I'm highly aware of what the Dark Lord
thinks of me, Auntie dearest."
"You have done the family name proud.
In fact, you are far better than your
worthless parents."
Draco stiffened. "Don't fucking remind
me of them," he replied brusquely,
brushing her hand away when she placed
it on his arm.
"Cissy was a traitor," Bellatrix spat out
his mother's name like it was a nasty
taste on the tip of her tongue. "And
Lucius - Lucius was weak. The most
cowardly, pathetic Death-Eater there
ever was."
Fury welled up in Draco until he felt
nothing but a calm, silent anger. The
deadliest kind.
"But you, you turned out wonderfully,"
Bellatrix continued, oblivious to the icy
expression on his face. "A little rough
around the edges and a little bit of a
weakling at first, but that was because
your parents were so messed up. You're
not to blame. Now you've grown up and
I sometimes think you have more of my
blood in you than either of your
parents'."
Draco felt something like hatred and
self-loathing lodge itself in his throat.
He didn't know whether he wanted to
throw up or to shoot a killing curse
straight into Bellatrix's heart. Instead, he
clenched his jaw and nodded at her
shortly.
"Thank Merlin for that."
And then he took two quick steps
forward and apparated away.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was having one of the most

tiresome days. Draco had not returned at
all except to give her breakfast and a
sandwich for lunch, and then Pansy had
dropped by at seven in the evening with
dinner. But other than that, the house had
been deathly silent and despairingly
empty.
She had tried to read, going through the
yearbooks again. Dean Thomas, Seamus
Finnegan and Parvati Patil's faces were
beginning to seem familiar to her. She
remembered spending quite bit of time
with them, although she couldn't exactly
remember what they had been doing.
Studying, perhaps. Pansy told her that
she used to study a lot.
But more than anything, Hermione
thought of Draco and what she could've
possibly done to upset him. He was a
puzzle more intricate and interesting than
any of the books she could find in his
library. And she spent a lot of time
thinking about how she could get through
to him, because he seemed so adamant
on closing himself off, especially these
past two days.
Then Draco came stumbling into the
room at one in the morning. Hermione
had almost drifted off to sleep when he
entered, shutting the door a little roughly
behind him. His jaw was clenched and
his silver eyes angry. He completely
disregarded her and headed straight for
the bathroom.
Hermione quickly sat up. "Draco?"
"Go back to sleep, Granger."
She stubbornly pulled back the covers
and slipped off his bed. She was just
about to follow him into the bathroom
when he slammed the door shut, locking
it behind him. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fucking fine, just piss off."
She didn't. Instead, she hovered
hesitantly in front of the door, listening
intently as the shower sounds came on
and water splattered against the tub. But
then there was a sudden shattering
sound, sharp and painful, and she stilled.
"Draco?"
He was silent inside.
Feeling a surge of worry pumping
adrenaline through her veins, she quickly
ran back to the bed, grabbing her wand
off the dresser. She then manually flung
open the doors of his bookshelves, her
eyes scanning the titles of the books
before landing on a familiar red-covered
one she was just flipping through last
week. It was the Standard Book of
Spells, Grade 1, a book she vaguely
remembered studying a long time ago.
Hermione turned the pages, finally
coming across the one spell that she was
searching for.
Mouthing the spell under her breath, she
did a quick test motion with her wand.
And then she hurried back to the
bathroom, aiming her wand directly at
the lock.
"Alohomora."
The door stayed shut. Hermione gripped
her wand firmer and took a deep breath.
"Alohomora."
To her greatest relief and surprise, the
lock came undone with a click. She
quickly pushed the door open, only to
inhale sharply when she saw the
shattered glass on the floor from one of
the cups that Draco had presumably
hurled against the wall. He now sat
against the tub, his shoulders hunched
and head buried in his arms. The soles
of his feet had been cut by the broken
pieces of glass, and tiny spots of blood
stained the floor tiles.
Picking her way gingerly through the
glass, Hermione crouched slowly beside
him. He ignored her when she placed a
careful hand on his arm, but she could
feel his muscles contract under her
touch.
"Draco," her voice was barely a
whisper. She reached forward and drew
his arms away from his face, forcing him
to meet her gaze. His eyes were glossy,
bloodshot in his attempt to keep from
completely breaking down. The silver in
his irises held nothing but pain beneath
and within.
"I'm fucking fine," he repeated, drawing
away from her and glancing away. He
shifted aside, felt his feet connect
heavily with a new shard of glass and
couldn't stifle the hiss of pain that
instinctively escaped his lips.
"No, you're not," Hermione replied and
reached for him once more. She gripped
his shoulder firmly before he could
move away and drew him close. Her
arms curled around his neck and the
action put her in an awkward position
halfway onto his lap, but she ignored it,
ignored everything but him and pressed
her cheek against his forehead, feeling
him shiver underneath her grasp.
Draco didn't move. He didn't even
speak. And they stayed like this for so
long until his harsh breaths evened out,
until her legs felt numb and the blood on
his feet dried up. She thought he'd almost
fallen asleep in her arms when he finally
let out a shuddering breath. And when he
spoke, his voice was low and raw.
"I'm not like her," he seemed to be
speaking to himself more than Hermione,
but she strained her ears to listen
anyway. "I'm not like her. I'm not like
any of them."
Hermione didn't know who they were
but she could easily hazard a guess. She
shifted slightly, pressing her lips to his
forehead and letting her fingers slide up
to sift through his soft blond hair.
"Of course you're not," she murmured
against his skin, and wished he knew
how she thought the world of him, that
even though he belonged to the darkest
shadows, he was still the brightest ray of
light to her. "You're a good person.
Never let anyone tell you otherwise."
12 | repello

12
r e p e l l o ( muggl e tum)
Repels muggles.

Some time later, Hermione began to feel

cold sitting on the floor tiles. She was
shivering and Draco quickly got up,
hauling her to her feet. They headed back
into the bedroom and he drew the covers
over her, ignoring her wide-eyed gaze
and fell asleep in the armchair, careful to
maintain his distance again.
Then morning came and he jolted awake.
He casted muffling charms on her to
keep her from awaking as he began to
get ready for work. His eyes were tired
and he was fucking exhausted, but he
couldn't care less. When he was finally
done, he lifted the charms and, on
impulse, reached down to press his lips
briefly against her forehead.
His stomach tightened when he caught a
whiff of her scent and he briefly thought
about what would happen if he let his
sanity slip, if he let his lips gloss hers
for a fleeting moment or two. But he
shoved those thoughts aside firmly.
"Thank you," he whispered against her
skin, and pulled back.
He headed out of the room, shutting the
door gently behind him and doing up the
locking charms. He didn't notice the
brown eyes slowly opening behind him,
or the curious, satisfied smile, or the
fingers that traced the forehead as she
memorised the feel of his lips against
her skin.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione couldn't help but feel rather

anxious when Blaise knocked on the
door at eight that morning. She was only
just getting used to Pansy, but Blaise was
a different matter altogether. She couldn't
remember Blaise much, only knowing
that he was one of Draco's friends who
sneered at her a lot. But he hadn't
actually gone out of his way to interact
with her.
Blaise seemed to sense her discomfort
when he entered and he quickly offered
her a charming smile. "Hey, Hermione.
Draco said you hadn't had breakfast so I
saved some for you."
Hermione smiled faintly at the mention
of Draco's name and thanked Blaise for
the plate of chocolate-chip pancakes. "I-
is Draco still outside?"
"No, he, Theo and Pansy had to go
patrolling."
"Patrolling - ?"
"You know, for security purposes. The
Dark Lord rules with a firm iron-clad
fist, and he makes us Death-Eaters patrol
different places everyday in search for
any sort of rebellion or muggle-born
wizards and witches," Blaise halted
briefly as he caught Hermione's
frightened expression. "Not you," he
hastily assured her. "You're safe here, I
promise."
Hermione bit her lip.
"I promise. Look, you're in the house of
three of the most terrifying Death-Eaters
and staying in the room of the head
Death-Eater. In times like these, I don't
think there's anywhere else safer than
here."
Her lips curled in a semi-relieved smile
and Blaise immediately felt at ease. He
felt awkward having to tiptoe around
Hermione, who was always known for
her quick wits and fired remarks, but
Pansy was right. This Hermione had
been through a lot.
He watched as Hermione ate silently,
self-consciously catching his gaze every
now and then. He tried to maintain a
pleasant look on his face. Merlin, he
couldn't imagine how Draco must be
acting around her.
Blaise looked round the room
absentmindedly, catching sight of a red
book that he used to study back in his
first year back at Hogwarts. "What
spells have you been studying?" He
couldn't help but ask.
Hermione swallowed her mouthful of
pancakes and set the fork down.
"Alohomora. I used that last night...and -
Brackium Emendo. Wingardium
Leviosa...but I couldn't do that for long.
I-I don't really know much anymore."
Blaise felt something strange pull in him,
like the earth's axis had momentarily
shifted and wouldn't ever be placed
back. He hated when constants were no
longer constants. Hermione and her
knowledge had always been a constant
during his Hogwarts days - as
aggravating as it was - but now that
knowledge was just all gone.
He glanced back at her and forced a
smile onto his face. "It's alright. You'll
learn again, and we'll help you. Which
area of magic are you most interested in
studying?"
Hermione paused and frowned
thoughtfully. "I'm not too sure," she said
at last, "I think...I'm more confident when
- well, when Draco was hurt the other
day, it was easier for me to heal him
because...I don't exactly know why. It
was just easier."
Blaise began to open the doors of
Draco's bookshelves, staring intently at
the book titles. "Well, Hermione, you're
in luck."
She looked at him. He grinned widely.
"Healing magic just happens to be one of
my many areas of expertise."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Do you know what my ultimate goal in

this war is?"
Draco barely spared Pansy a glance as
they trudged back home with food from
the nearby diner. Apparating was, of
course, the easiest choice, but Pansy had
insisted on walking. Something about
fresh air and exercise - as if they didn't
already get all the bloody fresh air and
exercise they needed during their daily
patrols and missions.
"To kill Fenrir Greyback," Pansy
declared, when Draco didn't reply. She
eyed him in her peripheral vision but he
was calm as ever. "I really do want to
kill him - and not with an Avada. I want
to plunge a knife into his thick, hairy
back and slice his skin off layer by layer,
until he is nothing but a quivering mess
of blood and guts."
Draco didn't blink.
"Do my violent tendencies scare you?"
"Not at all," he replied calmly.
"Although I think Blaise should keep his
eyes wide open at all times."
"Please. I'm not going to hurt my
boyfriend."
"I beg to differ. I saw ropes and belts the
last time I had the misfortune of entering
your room; I think there's a fucking lot of
hurt in the sex."
"A good kind of hurt," Pansy insisted.
"Don't tell me you've never tried that
before, Draco. Back when the four of us
first bought the apartment, and you were
still into slags, remember? The walls
were thin then and you didn't bother
putting muffling charms on your room.
You and your slags were pretty damn
loud. Well, mostly them. You were
surprisingly silent through it all. Didn't
ever get your release, huh?"
Draco threw her a frosty look, but her
smirk simply widened.
"I know, I know, your slag-hunting days
are long over. What triggered it, by the
way? The cute brunette in your room?"
When Draco didn't answer, a teasing
laugh slipped from her lips. This was
too fucking entertaining. "Don't tell me
you've never thought of stripping her
bare and wrapping her legs tightly
around your waist and pounding into her
until she's screaming your name and
you're biting on your lip so hard it's
almost bleeding and the both of you are
nothing but a sweaty tangle of naked
limbs and - "
He hit her with a Silencio and quickly
strode off.
Rolling her eyes, Pansy easily reversed
the spell and trailed after him, a wicked
smile playing on her lips. Seemed like
the mention of Hermione Granger could
get the best reactions out of Draco
Malfoy. Who knew?

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco paused by the main doorway

when he heard voices coming from his
room. A calm voice that could only be
Blaise's, and a hesitant, feminine one.
Hermione.
Draco felt an odd emotion surge through
him - not quite jealousy, not quite
aggravation - he couldn't determine it. It
just felt like Hermione was slowly
getting to know everyone in this house
and they didn't seem to share the same
fear he had in getting to know her,
because they didn't need to.
It was fucking unfair that way. None of
them - not even Theo - were danger
hazards like he was. None of them were
as high-ranking or as close to the Dark
Lord as he was. None of them killed as
many people as he did, or did as many
bad things as he did.
Pansy came up behind him and prodded
his back with her bony finger. "What're
you standing there for?"
Draco quickly headed in, setting the food
down on the kitchen counter. Pansy
followed suit, before turning her head
towards Draco's room and grinning.
"Is that Blaise and Hermione talking?"
Draco ignored her, instead heading
straight for his room. The door was ajar
and he frowned, this time feeling
absolutely annoyed. Merlin, was his
room not a safe sanctuary anymore? Was
everyone just going to barge in and see
Hermione as and fucking when they
liked?
But he stopped when he saw Blaise
sitting on the desk, explaining the
concept of Polyjuice potions to
Hermione. She was staring up at him
with eyes alight with curiosity and
intrigue, listening intently to every single
word he said.
Pansy came up beside Draco, beaming
when she saw Blaise teaching
Hermione. Then she sneaked a glance at
Draco, noticed his rigid expression and
smirked. "Now, now," she whispered,
and he felt a fresh wave of irritation
surge through him. "There's no need to
get all jealous about Hermione spending
time with another guy - "
He hit her with another silencing spell
again.
And he was just about to turn on his
heels to leave when Hermione spotted
the movement by the doorway and
scrambled up immediately.
"Draco!"
Draco stilled, reluctantly stepping into
the room. Hermione noticed the stormy
expression on his face and her smile
wavered, but she swallowed and
continued, "Blaise w-was just teaching
me about Healing Magic."
Draco didn't answer, but his gaze slowly
met Blaise's. Blaise quickly jumped off
the desk, heading straight for the
doorway. "Talk to you later, Hermione."
Hermione smiled faintly as Pansy and
Blaise disappeared, shutting the door
behind them. But she was more worried
for the silent blond in the room, whose
body language was entirely closed off.
He was inches from the bed but she
sometimes felt like he was miles away.
"Is everything alright - "
"Why was the bloody door open?"
Hermione faltered. "What?"
Draco cast silencing charms and locks
on the room before stepping towards her.
"Why was the door bloody opened
instead of closed? And why weren't the
muffling charms set? For fuck's sake,
Granger, it could've been Theo walking
in instead of Pansy or me and your cover
would've been blown!"
"I - I didn't think it would matter."
He froze. "What?"
"Well - since Blaise and Pansy already
know...I - I thought that it'd only be a
matter of time before Theo knows too."
"So you want Theo to know?"
"No - but if he happens - "
"Because, fuck, Granger, if you want
everyone to know about your existence I
can easily arrange that for you. Do you
want to go back to the Order too and
fight alongside Potter and Weasel?
Because that can be arranged, you can
fucking leave! It's just a bloody phone-
call away - " he stopped when her face
crumpled, tears beginning to well up in
her sad brown eyes.
If there was one thing he hated more than
himself, it was seeing Hermione Granger
cry. It always felt like he'd purposely
plunged a knife into her heart and
twisted.
"You w-want me to leave?" She was
crying in earnest now and she brushed
the back of her hands fiercely against her
wet cheeks.
He went pale, suddenly realising the
implications of his earlier statement and
how she'd completely misinterpreted
him. Shit. "No, of course not - "
"You just said - "
"I didn't mean it that way," he insisted
firmly, closing the distance between
them and wrapping his arms around her
easily. She slotted perfectly into his
embrace, her body soft against the firm
planes of his chest. He reached one hand
up to tangle his fingers through her wild
brown locks and brushed her tears away
with his thumb. "That wasn't what I
meant, Granger."
She choked back a sob. "It's...it's not?"
Draco exhaled heavily. Decisions,
decisions. He didn't want Hermione to
go back to the Order, hell, he never
wanted her to go; but it had always been
the easiest option.
"You can stay for as long as you like," he
said instead, leaving the decision in her
hands completely and wondering if she
would have the sense to leave when the
time came for her to do so.
Hermione nodded against his chest, her
bushy hair brushing briefly against his
chin. "I want to stay," she whispered
almost inaudibly, but he heard it loud
and clear anyway.
And couldn't decide whether he felt
more relieved or terrified.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"So what's your game plan for the attack

on headquarters?" Blaise asked Draco
some nights later. He didn't mean to pry,
but Draco had not given any of them a
status update.
Blaise couldn't help but notice that
Draco seemed rather distracted lately,
spending far less time in the room with
Hermione and far more time outside
going on patrols. He didn't even go out
with Theo, who was always a good
drinking partner to turn to. Blaise figured
that the problem had to do with the
brunette witch in Draco's room. He and
Pansy had spent far more time with
Hermione than Draco had these few
days. It almost seemed like Draco was
avoiding the girl.
Still, that was something Blaise didn't
intend to find out. He was actually more
concerned about the ambush attack that
was supposed to happen exactly three
days from now. He still hadn't a clue
what he was supposed to do, but he
knew that Draco probably had it all
figured out and was just procrastinating
until the last minute to brief them.
Blaise cast another glance at Draco, who
was sitting on the counter as he ate the
Chinese takeaway Pansy had brought
back earlier. There was a blank,
indifferent expression on his face and
Blaise knew that he obviously hadn't
heard the question.
"Draco!"
The blond finally dragged his eyes up to
meet Blaise's and frowned. "What?"
Blaise rolled his eyes. "I said, what's
your game plan for Friday? Do you
actually have a plan, or are you
intending to wing it?" The latter question
was completely rhetorical. Draco
always had a plan.
"I'll tell you now if you're up for it."
"Oh, you know I'm always up for death-
trap missions. Gets my adrenaline
pumping all the time." The sarcasm
wasn't lost on Draco, whose lips twisted
in a brief smirk. Blaise set his food
carton down and headed out of the
kitchen. "Let me get the other two."
"Alright," Draco watched in amusement
as Blaise left, but the gleam in his eye
faded when Blaise turned towards the
left first, heading straight for Draco's
room. Pansy was in there with
Hermione, presumably to have dinner
together with her. And Draco felt like a
prick for eating outside these days, but
keeping his distance from Hermione
Granger was fucking important.
A minute later, Blaise came out with
Pansy in tow and they carefully shut the
door behind them, replacing the locking
charms. Then Blaise strode towards
Theo's door, completely ignorant to what
was going inside that room.
"Two galleons says Theo's gonna scream
first," said Pansy, as she leaned on the
counter. There was a wicked grin on her
face as she watched Blaise undo the
locks on Theo's door.
Draco scoffed. "You give your boyfriend
too much fucking credit. I say Blaise.
Make it five and you're on."
"Deal."
They didn't have to wait long. A moment
later, an ear-piercing shriek sounded
from Theo's room.
"...what the fuck - THEO!"
It was Blaise.
Draco smirked at Pansy. She might be
dating Blaise, but he knew these two
lads since they were kids. Theo was
hardly fazed by anything, but Blaise was
a different matter altogether.
Scowling, Pansy grabbed her purse from
the counter and handed over the money
to Draco. "My boyfriend's a fucking
wimp sometimes, I swear."
"Fucking pansy's more like it."
She jabbed Draco with her elbow at his
stupid pun. "Shut it - only I'm allowed to
badmouth him."
Blaise came running back to them; his
cheeks flushed a dozen shades of red and
a laughably horrified look on his face.
"You would not believe what I caught
Theo doing!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "See, Zabini,
that's why we put locks on our fucking
doors."
"It wasn't the usual, it was - "
And then Blaise trailed off as Theo
sauntered out of the room, followed by
two skimpily dressed girls, with newly
acquired sex hair and both looking rather
frazzled. Pansy's mouth fell open and
Blaise flushed even harder.
Theo, on the other hand, was calm and
simply hopped up on the counter next to
Draco. "Exit's that way, ladies," Theo
said, pointing to the main door and
waving them out dismissively.
The girls both frowned. "Aren't you
going to at least show us home?" The
one in the black dress asked, folding her
arms obstinately across her chest.
Theo appeared to think really hard.
"Uh...no," he admitted, before turning to
Draco. "Did you save me some dinner?"
Wordlessly, Draco handed him the last
unopened carton of food and Theo
happily grabbed it. "Sweet."
"Not even a beverage?" The other girl
looked utterly appalled. "What the fuck
kinda arsehole pulls this shit on girls?"
"The kind who honestly doesn't give a
shit," returned Theo pleasantly and
Draco snorted a laugh. "This isn't a
fucking hospitality bureau, ladies. We
had our fun - although it was rudely
interrupted by my dear friend over
there," Theo winked at Blaise, who
flushed red all over again, "but we knew
what we signed up for. So let's leave it
at that and be cordial about it."
"Yeah, well, go fuck yourself next time,"
the girl spat, while the other one in a
black dress reached for the bottle of
Firewhisky on the table and flung it at
Theo. Only her aim was completely off
and the bottle veered slightly to the left
instead, smashing right into the door of
Draco's room.
Draco thought of the other girl inside the
room and saw instantly saw red.
"Nice throw - " Theo began mockingly,
but Draco hit him with a Silencio.
He was seething, completely aggravated
that they'd probably frightened the hell
out of Hermione. He got down from the
counter; his actions unhurried and
painstakingly slow. In his peripheral
vision, he noticed Pansy and Blaise
exchanging amused glances. The two
girls in front of him looked a little
nervous, but otherwise defiant and not at
all sorry.
Draco exhaled heavily, before pushing
both the sleeves of his jumper up to his
elbows, deliberately exposing the Dark
Mark on his forearm. The girls paled
rapidly, eyes widening in horror. One of
them even looked a little faint.
"Are you two going to get the fuck out of
here," Draco asked them, in his calmest
voice, "or am I going to have to throw
you out myself?"
The girls immediately ran out of the
house, shutting the front door behind
them. Draco turned to head to his room,
ignoring the smirks on his friends' faces
- Pansy, especially, had a sly, knowing
glint in her eye and he didn't want to
acknowledge that at all.
"Draco - the plan?" Blaise stopped him
before he could disappear into the room.
Draco paused by the doorway. "One
minute. And you," he pointed at Theo,
whose smile abruptly faded. "Clean up
this fucking mess."
Theo groaned. "Why me?"
"Because you can't handle one girl, let
alone two, but you thought it'd be fucking
clever to get in on some ménage à trois
action," Draco deadpanned, before going
into the room, slamming the door shut
behind him.
The three of them outside looked at each
other. Then Blaise broke the silence.
"Draco's right, Theo. And I'm not
referring to your relationships, or lack
thereof. I mean the things you were doing
inside the room earlier," he added, now
looking a little green in the face.
Pansy quirked an eyebrow, hardly able
to stop her curiosity. "What kind of
things?"
Theo grinned and opened his mouth to
explain, but Blaise hastily hit him with a
Silencing charm, before turning to his
girlfriend. "You know that thing we
seldom do and that other thing we never
ever do?"
Her eyes widened and she took a wary
step away from Theo, inching closer to
Blaise instead. "Oh."
"Yeah. He was doing them all."
13 | episkey

13
epi s key
Heals minor injuries.

Draco was surprised to see the smile on

Hermione's face when he entered the
room. She looked both happy to see him
and completely amused by something
else altogether. Her eyes were dancing
and bright, and he felt the cold
expression on his face soften as he
watched her.
He cast a muffling charm and stepped
towards her. "You heard that?"
A giggle fell from her lips. The book on
Herbology that was lying in front of her
was completely forgotten; along with the
carton of food that Pansy had given her
earlier. "Did - did Theo really bring two
girls home?"
Draco began to nod, but he stilled
suddenly when he registered what she'd
just said. Home. Fuck, was Hermione
actually getting attached to this place?
"Draco?"
He quickly wrenched himself away from
his thoughts and focused on her. "Yeah,
he did. And he couldn't get rid of them,
that bloody git."
"I know. I-I heard. Got a bit of a shock
though," she gestured vaguely at the
door. "What was that?"
"Firewhisky. Theo'll clean that up."
There was a silence; it wasn't the most
awkward, but nor was it the most
comfortable either. Draco didn't know
why he didn't leave. But he felt no
inclination to either.
After a pause, Hermione pulled her
knees up to her chest, her eyes alight
with curiosity. "Does Theo always do
this? Bring his...girlfriends home, I
mean."
"Not girlfriends - slags," Draco
corrected. "Yeah, he does. He's been a
known womaniser since Hogwarts
days."
"Yes, I know. If I remember correctly -
you were quite the womaniser too."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. As far as he
had been concerned, his conquests had
been more or less kept within the
Slytherin dormitories. "Who told you?"
Her smile was almost wicked - not
dangerous like Pansy's; but more
mischievous, playful, and he felt his eyes
drawn to her lips like the Earth's
magnetic pull. "Rumours. So...are they
true?"
"What?"
"Your - slags," she seemed rather
uncomfortable saying that. And it almost
seemed too vulgar coming from her lips.
Draco couldn't decide whether he liked
or loathed it.
"In the past," he acceded. When he had
time. When he wasn't stuck being the
bloody head Death-Eater. When he didn't
have that much blood on his hands that
he felt like he'd taint whoever he fucking
touched. "Not so much now."
"Oh. Why?" She seemed genuinely
curious, and there was a softness in her
irises that made him wonder if she knew
he was hiding something.
He shrugged. "No reason," his tone was
cavalier. "Do you want me to?" He
couldn't help but turn the tables on her,
and when she blushed a dozen shades of
crimson, he felt rather amused.
"Of course not!"
Her response was far too quick, far too
heated for him to ignore. "Why?" When
she faltered and averted her gaze, he
took a step closer. Something told him
that he was placing a foot in dangerous
territories, but he had always liked
playing with fire. "Why, Granger?"
"Because - " he could practically hear
the gears whirring in her head as she
fumbled for a valid response. " -
because I live here, that's why! And -
and it'd be disrespectful if...if you
brought some girl - slag - here while I'm
in the same room."
His lips twitched. "I see."
"And - and dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Merlin, he was a prick to
enjoy this but her reaction was golden.
"Because no one's supposed to see me."
"Right."
"And...um, well..."
"Granger." He finally decided to put her
out of her misery and reached forward to
place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
What he didn't expect to feel was the
heat of her body through his jumper that
she had borrowed, or her soft hair that
glossed his hand when she turned to look
up at him. "I get it."
He turned to leave, but she quickly
grasped him before he could go, her
fingers clutching his hand and keeping it
on her shoulder. He could feel the indent
of her collarbone against his skin, and
her nails digging lightly into him as a
desperate plea for him to stay.
"Are you - " she faltered, taking a deep
breath before continuing. "Will you
come back later?"
Fuck.
"Granger - "
"If...if this is about me taking the bed,
then I could sleep on the chair," she said
quickly, tightening her grip on him when
he made to pull away. "Or we could
share the bed - "
"It's not about that. I just have work to
do." Mentally berating himself, he
dragged his hand away and avoided
looking at her. "Blaise and Pansy will
check up on you."
Without waiting for her reply, he quickly
left the room, locking the door behind
him. Once outside, he let out a silent
sigh, which didn't go unnoticed by Theo,
who was hovering nearby with his wand
in hand, as he cleaned up the mess
outside Draco's door.
"You alright, mate?"
"Fine," he returned shortly and went
back into the kitchen, where Pansy and
Blaise were sharing a carton of ice-
cream.
Theo followed him in, grabbing a spoon
and nudging Blaise aside so he could get
in on the dessert. Draco ignored them but
leaned on the counter all the same,
summoning his wand to him. Blaise
immediately set his spoon down, while
Pansy and Theo waited expectantly.
"Friday's going to be different," Draco
began, and reached over to grab several
pawn pieces from Blaise's Wizard Chess
set. He selected four white pieces and
lined them up. "Zabini, you're with me.
Your only job here is to use Legilimency
on every single member in our team -
apart from Bellatrix, Donalds and
Braddock."
Blaise frowned, concern edging onto his
face. "But - "
" - I know, we're dealing with trickier
Death-Eaters here. Especially Carrow
and Rodolphus. But you're the only one
careful and skilled enough to cover your
tracks. You'll be fine. Just make sure you
have enough Fictum phials for that day.
Now you two."
Draco separated the two remaining
pawns before turning to Pansy and Theo.
"Your jobs are the same as mine. We'll
be using Legilimency on the Rebellion
members. Erase whatever information of
the Order you can sift out and bring
enough phials to store those memories."
Theo's eyebrows shot up. "That's it?
Sounds fucking simple, if you ask me."
"It is. It's just fucking tedious, because
the both of you will be in separate
groups to tackle the two other places
where Rebellion members are housed.
So apart from having to fight alongside
the Death-Eaters, you're going to have to
use Legilimency on as many Rebellion
members as you can. Also, Parkinson -
keep an eye out on Pritchard and make
sure to keep him safe. Zabini says he's
on our side now, we need him alive.
Nott - make sure Yaxley stays in line.
Don't you fucking dare kill him," Draco
warned, when Theo's eyes began to
gleam.
Theo rolled his eyes. It was a war, and
killing was as easy as breathing, but
Theo wasn't stupid enough to kill one of
the top Death-Eaters without thinking of
the consequences. "Fine."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione didn't quite understand what

was going on with Draco. All she knew
was that he was there and not there
simultaneously; close to her but too far
to reach. He made sure that she was
taken care of - whether it was by him or
Pansy or Blaise - but never stayed for
long. Their conversations were stunted
and reduced to bouts of awkward
silences.
When Friday arrived, she watched
Draco silently as he pulled on his jacket
and grab his Death-Eater mask. Looking
at the mask made her feel uneasy, but it
was a lot better when she knew that the
person behind it was someone kind.
Draco had the posture of calm
professionalism that made her realise he
was going on yet another mission, and
she quickly scrambled to sit up, ignoring
the ache in her abdomen and the sinking
feeling in her heart.
She latched onto the hem of his jacket
before he could leave and he paused,
staring at her with wary, guarded eyes.
"Please - please be careful," she said,
unfiltered concern in her voice.
He nodded and reached for the sleeping
draught on the dresser, handing it to her.
"I'll be back before you know it."
She took the phial, deliberately setting it
aside. She could practically feel his eyes
following her action but Hermione
couldn't help it. She couldn't go to sleep
without knowing that Draco was safe.
Blaise and Pansy had kept their mouths
shut about what they did as Death-
Eaters, but Hermione had gone through
the worst of the war. And if the world
outside was anything as bad as what she
had to go through - she didn't want to
think about what could happen to Draco.
Taking a deep breath, she quickly took
his hand before he could draw away. His
skin was warm and she pressed her lips
briefly against the palm of his hand,
feeling him go rigid under her touch, his
eyes darkening with an intensity that
made her shiver involuntarily. "I'll be
waiting," she whispered a promise
against his skin before letting him go.
She watched him until he left the room,
and kept her ears peeled until all four of
them had left the apartment. Once the
house was empty, she grabbed the clock
that Blaise had given to her and set it
down next to the pillow. She heard the
tick tick tick of the second hand as she
closed her eyes and waited, wondering
why each second seemed to last an hour,
maybe even longer.
Sometime later, the phial that Hermione
wore around her neck began to burn and
she sat up. She couldn't quite decide
whether she loved or hated the Protean
charm. It was the only connection she
had to Draco and she loved that she had
that. The encrypted words were always
an indicator that whoever sent it was
still alive, but it also sent a sinking
feeling of dread in her heart because
whoever sent it was most likely in
trouble.
She could still remember the previous
message clearly - RUN. And Draco had
returned bruised and battered. With
shaking hands, she reached for the phial
and held it up.

ALECTO CARROW

The words glowed a furious red in the

moonlight and Hermione felt a sudden
surge of memories flood through her
mind in the next instant. Feeling bile rise
up in her throat, she blindly shoved her
way to the bathroom, making it just in
time before she emptied the contents of
her stomach into the sink. She thought
she saw a hint of blood mixed in with
the rest of the liquid acid, but she
couldn't be sure.
With trembling fingers, she flipped the
lever on the tap to clean the sink. And
then she sank down to her knees, in the
same spot where Draco had been just
days before. The tears somehow couldn't
come this time and she sat there in the
darkness, hugging her knees to her chest
and concentrating on the dull, throbbing
pain in her stomach because the pain in
her heart and head were far worse.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco wasn't at all surprised to see

Alecto Carrow's name light up the
phials. In fact, he mentally chided
himself for not realising sooner. He'd
never particularly trusted that bloody
woman anyway. It was just as well. She
could get caught in the crossfire and now
he didn't have to give a shit.
Stuffing the phials back under his shirt,
he zipped his jacket close and gripped
his wand tighter. His senses were
heightened as he scanned his
surroundings. The place was deathly
quiet and the Rebellion outnumbered the
Death-Eaters three to one.
He kept close to the wall as he made his
way down the corridor, pausing when he
noticed Maisie duelling a Rebellion
member in one of the rooms. She was
casting hexes and jinxes, but it just
wasn't enough.
Without a moment's hesitation, Draco
apparated over and blocked the stinging
hex that the Rebellion member shot at
Maisie. Before the man or Maisie could
react, Draco wordlessly cast a
Legilimency on him, watching as the
man's face contorted with abject horror
as Draco quickly learnt all the secrets
about the Rebellion. Nothing Draco
hadn't already learnt in the past hour.
"What are you fucking - " the man began
but Draco was quick to silence him.
"Sleep tight."
The green jet of light that shot out from
Draco's wand was too quick and lethal
to block. And the man collapsed onto the
ground, eyes wide open with the
emptiness of death.
Maisie looked at Draco in sheer
gratitude. "Thank you," she murmured,
but Draco knew that she wasn't simply
referring to him saving her.
It was more than that. Draco had seen
Maisie's memories and knew that the girl
had never taken more lives than
necessary. The total number of people
she'd killed in the past amounted to less
than ten, and Draco was adamant on
keeping it that way. Some people could
still be saved. Maisie was definitely one
of those people.
"It's fine," Draco returned evenly, before
striding out of the room. He caught a
glimpse of Blaise in the room opposite,
duelling a Rebellion member alongside
Scabior. No issue there. Blaise could
hold his own in a fight and while he
wasn't the swiftest at Legilimency, he
was fucking careful and covered his
tracks brilliantly, far better than Pansy
did.
Upon rounding the next corner, Draco
found himself waylaid by three
Rebellion members. Duelling was
second nature to him and he was quick
on his feet. But having to use
Legilimency instead of the killing curse
proved to be tedious, just as he'd
predicted. He'd already finished one of
them off when someone apparated over
to him.
"Need a little help, Malfoy?"
Crabbe Senior.
Draco clenched his jaw and shook his
head. "I'm fine, Crabbe."
The name slipped so swiftly past his lips
that, for a moment, it seemed as though
Draco had been taken back years ago, to
Hogwarts days. When it was him and
Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle,
always Crabbe and Goyle. But now
there was no more Crabbe or Goyle,
victims to a Fiendfyre and the war
respectively, and it was just him. Alone.
Shoving that thought firmly out of his
mind, Draco apparated behind the
Rebellion member, extracting his
memories quickly before hitting him
with a killing curse. Two down, one to
go.
Only that last one was nifty on his feet
and Crabbe Senior was a shit excuse of
a Death-Eater.
And the moment Crabbe Senior
stumbled, Draco found himself lunging
forward to block a hex. The hex caught
his face instead and Draco swore as he
felt a sharp, searing crack in his nose.
"Fuck."
"That's right," the Rebellion member
taunted, firing hex after hex at him, all of
which Draco deflected easily. "You call
yourselves the Death-Eaters and you
can't even kill proper - " his words froze
on the tip of his tongue as Draco silently
hit him with Legilimency.
Draco smirked. "Only because I was
playing with my fucking food," he said
evenly, letting the last of the man's
memories flood his mind.
And, finally, Draco found exactly what
he was looking for.
The man's eyes widened in horror as the
same memory flashed in his mind. "What
the hell - "
"Now I'm hungry," Draco said simply
and sent a killing curse straight into the
man's heart. He calmly stepped over the
dead man's body before glancing over
his shoulder at Crabbe Senior. "You
alright?"
"Yeah," the Death-Eater spat out a
mouthful of blood before climbing
slowly to his feet. "Thanks, Malfoy.
Really appreciate you blocking the hex
for me. How's your nose?"
It hurt like a bitch but Draco revelled in
the pain. "It's fine," he muttered and
turned to leave. "Stay alert. I might not
be there to fucking save your arse next
time round."
But even as the words left Draco's lips,
he knew he would, somehow. It was
what he'd been doing for the past three
years, looking out for them, saving their
bloody lives, even if they were never
aware of it. Not particularly for them -
Draco had always thought that Crabbe
and Goyle Senior were incompetent
Death-Eaters - but for their sons.
And for Draco's own guilt that he'd tried
to assuage for years now, but never quite
could.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The bed was empty when Draco

returned.
And the panic that surged through him
was physically crushing. He imagined
the worst-case scenarios in the next
fleeting moments - Hermione found by
the Death-Eaters, Hermione being
captured again, Hermione being killed.
The thoughts drained the oxygen from his
lungs, leaving nothing but vacuum
behind, and he couldn't fucking breathe.
Slamming the door shut, he mindlessly
cast silencing and locking charms on the
room before scanning the room
frantically. "Granger?" He heard how
pathetic and frightened he sounded, but
he couldn't help it.
Where the fuck was she?
He took several steps forward, pausing
when he caught a glimpse of a familiar
figure in his peripherals. And suddenly,
the air was surging back into his lungs
and he stumbled in his haste to reach her,
collapsing beside her on the bathroom
floor.
"Fuck. Granger," he exhaled in relief
when he saw her sleeping, her face calm
and peaceful. Her fingers were clasped
firmly around the phial, a grip
unrelenting even in her sleep.
He had just moved to pick her up from
the floor when he hesitated and whipped
out his wand instead. Using the
Levitation charm, he carefully
manoeuvred her back to the bed, tugging
the sheets around her. His fingers
absentmindedly brushed the stray strands
of hair away from her forehead. He
wished, for a moment, that he was not
Draco Malfoy and she was not
Hermione Granger and that there was no
war - and maybe things would be a lot
simpler then.
"Draco?"
He quickly leaned back when she slowly
awoke, her eyelashes fluttering as she
opened her eyes, smiling in relief when
she saw him. Then a look of concern
flitted across her face and she reached
up to slide her palm up against his
cheek.
"You're bleeding," she whispered,
struggling to sit up. Her breath was hot
on his skin and he resisted the urge to
lean into her touch.
Draco drew his sleeve swiftly across his
nose, ignoring the sharp, stinging pain he
felt thanks to the hex he'd taken for
Crabbe Senior earlier on. "I'm fine,
Granger."
"No, you're not." She reached for her
wand on the dresser and pointed it at
him. The look on her face was steeled
with equal parts worry and
determination as she took a deep breath.
"Episkey."
Immediately, he felt the broken bones in
his nose slot themselves back into place.
He couldn't help but flinch instinctively,
but she held him firmly in place,
brushing the pad of her thumb against his
skin softly.
"Better now?"
He nodded mutely. There was something
entirely different about Hermione in
situations like this, but he couldn't quite
place a finger on why he found it so
mesmerising. Her eyes were bright and
set with purpose; like nothing else
mattered except for him to get better.
She looked...alive.
It seemed the only fitting way to
describe her. She looked alive in a time
where death was rampant and the grim
reaper's shadow could pass by any
moment. She was alive in the city of the
dead; not physically dead but dead
because of the war; and she was the only
beacon of light that was still flickering
and he was terrified that, with him, she'd
be extinguished eventually.
14 | petrificus

14
petr i fi cus total us
Paralyses.

The previous night had clearly taken a

toll on all of them, as Draco soon found
out the next morning when he left the
bedroom. Theo was sprawled on the
sofa, still wearing the clothes he had
worn the night before and emitting soft
snores as he continued sleeping on, dead
to the rest of the world. Blaise and
Pansy were nursing steaming mugs of
coffee by the counter, speaking in hushed
whispers. Blaise had several bruises
and cuts on his face, while Pansy had
dark bags beneath her eyes.
"Morning, mate," Blaise somehow still
managed to look cheery as Draco
approached the kitchen, pouring a cup of
coffee with his wand and sliding it over
the counter to Draco. "You alright?"
Draco stared blankly back at him.
"What?"
"Your nose. When you came back last
night, it was bleeding pretty badly."
"It's fine," Draco returned shortly.
Hermione had done a good job with it,
and he'd stared into the mirror earlier
that morning and saw no signs that it had
been cracked just several hours before.
Blaise studied his face for a brief
moment before his lips curled in a grin.
"Of course it's fine."
Something in his tone made Draco
glanced up quickly, his eyes narrowing.
Casting a surreptitious muffling charm
on Theo in the living room, Draco turned
back to Blaise, remembering how easily
Hermione had murmured the incantation
to heal his broken nose. "You taught her
that?"
"She's a fast learner."
Pansy snorted a laugh and nudged Blaise
playfully. "Don't put ideas in Draco's
head, baby. Healing spells are fine, but
Draco's clearly thinking of something
else that she would learn quickly."
Actually, Draco wasn't thinking of
anything along those lines, but now that
Pansy had put it into his head, it was all
he could think about. Bloody Parkinson.
He ignored her and chugged his coffee,
enjoying the way the hot liquid scalded
his tongue.
Once he'd finished his coffee, he set his
cup down and glanced at Blaise, keeping
his eyes averted from Pansy's wicked
smile. "The message you sent yesterday
on the phial. Alecto Carrow? What did
you see?"
Blaise quickly straightened, bracing his
arms on the counter as the expression on
his face grew serious. "I actually didn't
see anything using Legilimency." Draco's
eyebrows knitted and Blaise hastened to
explain himself. "I used that incantation
you came up with to check if she was a
skilled Occlumens - and apparently she
isn't. But she does have locks placed on
her memory, the same kind you place on
us. I didn't dare to undo them because I
knew it'd trigger an alarm to whoever
put them there."
"And so you think Carrow's hiding
something."
"It's not much," Blaise continued,
sounding somewhat apologetic. "But the
rest of the members in the group
yesterday are cleared, except for her.
She's our safest bet."
"It's like searching for a needle in a
haystack," Pansy looked somewhat
overwhelmed all of a sudden. "We don't
even know exactly what we're searching
for."
"It's better than nothing," Draco said
calmly. "At least I know who I'm going
to bring on the next mission."
Both Blaise and Pansy exchanged
confused glances before Pansy looked
over at Draco. "Who?"
"Amycus Carrow."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione knew that something was

wrong the moment she jolted awake
sometime in the afternoon. The
discomfort she had felt in her stomach
the night before was about a hundred
times worse. She threw the blanket off
her, stumbling into the bathroom just in
time before she began retching.
And if she had imagined seeing blood
the night before, she knew she wasn't
imagining anything this time round. The
sink was immediately stained crimson
with blood, and she coughed several
more times, feeling her throat burn and
tears sting the back of her eyelids.
Draco.
Even in her haze, his was the first face
that came to mind. Like always, he was
her lifeline and she wished he was there
so she could just reach out and hold on.
"Draco," she whispered weakly, her
half-dazed mind wondering if he could
hear her, wherever he was. And, if he
couldn't hear her, then there was -
- the phial. Of course.
She forced herself to grab the towel
from the sink counter, pressing it tightly
against her mouth before stumbling out
of the bathroom. Sinking onto the floor,
she reached up to the dresser to locate
her wand. And after some rummaging
through the drawers, she found the
incantation he'd written on a slip of
paper. She could still recall Draco's
words to her:
Tap the phial three times before saying
that incantation. Other phials like it will
heat up and help will come.
Hermione didn't know how it worked,
but it was worth a shot. She tried to
stifle another bout of coughing fit into the
towel, watching with a rising panic as
blood seeped into the cotton fabric. With
trembling fingers, she pulled the chain
off her neck and pointed the tip of her
wand at the phial.
But her eyes were blurry and her words
weak, and so she couldn't tell if the
incantation worked. And just before her
eyes fell shut, she caught a glimpse of
two familiar-looking phials sitting on the
table above her and felt a sinking feeling
of dread.
Draco had forgotten to bring his phials.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Theo was having a shitty day, what with

fighting the Rebellion the night before
and having the afternoon patrol shift
down Diagon Alley. He was exhausted
and could think of nothing other than
going back home to catch up on his
sleep. Thankfully, his shift was with
Malcolm Braddock, and not some other
prick he couldn't fucking stand.
When they entered the Leaky Cauldron,
everyone glanced up and the place fell
painfully silent, the kind only present in
front of Death-Eaters. Theo could
practically feel them staring at the mark
on his forearm, but he ignored their
pointed gazes and strode straight over to
the bartender. Tom, the old man who
used to own the Leaky Cauldron, no
longer worked there - rumour had it that
he was killed sometime during the war;
and the place was now owned by some
woman whose name Theo never
bothered to learn.
Rapping sharply against the counter, he
nodded at the woman and raised two
fingers. "Firewhisky."
"You planning on getting drunk, mate?"
Malcolm asked, sauntering over to lean
against the counter beside Theo.
"One's for you," Theo returned calmly.
"We'll do the rest of our rounds later.
Drink's on me."
"Thanks."
Theo was just about to reply, but he was
promptly distracted when he noticed
three girls casting flirtatious glances his
way in his peripheral vision. He
recalled how Draco had chided him for
bringing two girls home. Imagine how
Draco would react if he brought three
girls home. The mere thought of that
made him smirk and he glanced briefly
at the girls.
"You'd think they'd run when they see
this, but it just draws them closer," came
Malcolm's amused observation,
gesturing to the marks on their arms.
Theo couldn't agree more. When the war
first began, people were terrified of the
Death-Eaters. Most of them still were,
but there were always some who got
drawn to danger the way moths were to
a beacon of light.
"I'm not complaining," Theo chuckled.
"These girls usually make good shags."
"I'm with you on that."
"You know - " and then Theo paused as
he suddenly felt the phial hanging on the
chain around his neck begin to burn. He
stood up abruptly, pushing his mug of
Firewhisky aside.
"You alright, mate?"
"Yeah, fine," Theo waved Malcolm's
concerns off. "I have to check on
something, just give me a minute." He
quickly headed out of the inn, ducking
into the nearest dark alcove. Once he
was certain that he was hidden and no
one was nearby, he drew out the phial.
There was nothing but an address and
his eyes widened as he realised that it
was the address of the apartment.
Shoving the phial back under his shirt
and zipping up his jacket, he strode back
into the Leaky Cauldron.
"Listen, mate, I've got a bit of an
emergency to see to," he told Malcolm,
who was staring at him in confusion.
"You'll be alright on your own?"
"Of course."
"Thanks." Theo slid a couple of galleons
across the counter to cover both their
drinks and left the Leaky Cauldron.
Disappearing once again into the dark
alcove, he apparated back home.
The house was silent as usual when he
arrived and Theo paused in confusion.
He'd been expecting to see any of the
other three, but the place was completely
empty. Shrugging out of his jacket, he
took out his phial and stared at it. The
words were fainter now but still
glowing dimly - and he was right, he
hadn't read it wrongly.
"Draco?" He called, chucking his jacket
on the sofa and striding towards the
kitchen. There was no one, so he
checked the rooms one by one. "Blaise?
Pansy?" But one glance around their
rooms and he knew that there was
nobody, until he paused in front of
Draco's door and hesitated.
"Draco, mate?" He rapped sharply on
the door, knitting his eyebrows
thoughtfully. Draco was supposed to be
at a meeting with the Dark Lord and
some other Death-Eaters. He wasn't
supposed to be at home. "Draco."
There was nothing but silence.
Theo decided to just fuck it. Whipping
out his wand, he swiftly undid the locks
on Draco's door and pushed it wide
open. Only to freeze in horror when he
saw a brown haired girl sprawled on the
floor, lying in a pool of crimson blood.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The air was different when Draco

returned home later that evening. Theo
was pacing rapidly in the living room,
running a shaky hand through his hair
over and over again; making his dark
locks stick out in every different
direction.
When he spotted Draco hovering by the
doorway, his mouth fell open and he
walked over to him rapidly. "Mate,
where the hell have you been? Hermione
almost died today - " Theo trailed off
when he saw the look of sheer terror on
Draco's face, and he fell a step back,
suddenly feeling unsettled by this
version of Draco. "You alright?"
"Where is she?" Draco's voice was
strangled and Theo didn't think he'd ever
heard his friend sound this unravelled
before.
"In the bedroom - "
Draco pushed past him blindly, rushing
straight into his room, only to pause
when he saw Pansy sitting by
Hermione's bed, whispering incantations
under her breath as she pressed the tip of
her wand to Hermione's chest. He didn't
think Hermione had ever seemed more
fragile, except maybe that first night he
found her.
"How is she?" Somewhere in his
subconscious, Draco realised that he
sounded frightened, terrified like a little
boy, but he honestly couldn't give a fuck.
He couldn't even breathe, the air felt like
it was charged with toxin. "Is she - "
"She's alright," Pansy replied softly,
never once taking her eyes off Hermione
as she continued to soothe the
inflammation in the girl's lungs. "But
we're waiting for Blaise - he knows
these things better than I do."
It was all Draco could do not to rush
over, wrap his arms around Hermione
and apparate them to St. Mungo's there
and then. He wanted to, it was killing
him just to stand there so bloody
helplessly, but common sense told him
that Hermione couldn't be seen in a
public hospital.
So he stood there silently, his jaw
clenched and trying not to show that he
was fucking afraid. Because he was. He
really and truly was, and he had never
been more afraid before. He couldn't
lose Hermione Granger after searching
finding her, not now and perhaps not
ever.
"The potion's done," Blaise pushed his
way into the room, carrying a small
bowl of steaming brown liquid and
setting it down on the bedside drawer.
Then he stood up and glanced over at
Draco, who had a rigid, tight expression
on his face. "Give this to her when she
wakes up. One bowl every six hours.
She's going to be fine."
All at once, the air felt more breathable.
"What - " Draco cleared his throat and
tried to erase remnant traces of panic in
his voice. "What happened to her?"
"Internal injury," Blaise replied
promptly. "I think she's had it for awhile
now, but she just didn't realise it - either
that or she's been ignoring it." Draco felt
something in his gut twist painfully at
that. "She'll be fine, Draco, this potion
works wonders."
He didn't answer. Because the guilt was
kicking in and it was physically painful,
like someone had shot multiple Crucios
at him. He felt Blaise's hand on his
shoulder and he tensed.
"We'll be outside if you need us," Blaise
said gently, and left the room with Pansy,
Theo following after hesitating by the
doorway for a moment. And then the
door closed behind them with a click
and it was just Draco and Hermione, just
him and her, the way it should've always
been.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Outside, Theo watched silently as Blaise

began to Scourgify the rest of the
apartment, removing the remnant
bloodstains left on the floor. Hermione's
blood. Somehow, the thought of that
made Theo feel rather sick, which was
just ridiculous, because he'd seen so
much blood before that it shouldn't have
bothered him.
"Okay - " he began at last, when he
finally couldn't stand the tensed silence
for one more second. " - is no one else
wondering why we've got a bloody
fugitive in our apartment?"
Pansy paused in the middle of arranging
the phials and glanced over at him with a
frown. "She's not a fugitive."
"She's not on the side of the Dark Lord,
and she used to be a part of the Order
back when the Order still existed, so she
is a bloody fugitive. I can't believe you
two are still so calm about it when..."
Realisation suddenly dawned on him and
he scowled. "You two fucking knew
about her and you didn't tell me?"
For Merlin's sake. He was beginning to
lose his touch. He was supposed to be
eagle-eyed, sharp and shrewd. An actual
person hiding in the apartment wasn't
supposed to escape his notice.
"We both found out by accident," Blaise
explained, "well, it was an accident for
me, at least. Pansy sniffed her out during
the full moon."
"She smelled of blood back then. Mostly
soap - but a very, very faint trace of
blood, and I thought I was imagining
things." Pansy let out a sad sigh, before
shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't
believe I didn't see it coming."
Blaise stood up and went over to her,
wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Not your fault, baby. Even Draco didn't
notice anything."
"Why would Draco notice anything?"
Theo rolled his eyes. "It's Hermione
Granger. We should be bloody thankful
that Draco's not parading around waving
a sign that says 'fuck you, mudblood' - "
"Er, Theo - "
" - because, let's face it, Draco can't
stand her. This'll be interesting. I mean,
he can't even stand breathing the same
air as her. Do you remember back then in
Hogwarts, Draco was so - "
"Theo - "
Theo paused, staring at Blaise and Pansy
in exasperation. "What?"
The two of them exchanged looks
uneasily, before Blaise broke the silence
with an awkward laugh. "You or me,
baby," he told Pansy, who sighed and
disentangled herself from his embrace,
taking several steps towards Theo.
"Actually," Pansy started, rather
delicately, "Draco doesn't hate
Hermione."
Theo rolled his eyes again. "Of course
he doesn't, because that's an
understatement. He loathes her - were
you not there at Hogwarts? She's the
fucking bane of his existence, I mean
apart from Potter and the Weasel, but - "
Pansy hit him with a silencing charm. He
scowled, removing the silencing charm
with a quick wave of his hand. For
Merlin's sake, was no one going to let
him finish a bloody sentence?
"Shut up and listen for a second," Pansy
insisted, when he opened his mouth to
speak again. She sat down opposite him
on the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes
were bright and dancing, and Theo
couldn't be sure if he ever saw that look
in her eyes before. "Draco doesn't hate
Hermione," she repeated, slowly,
measuredly, like she was trying to drill
the words into his thick head. "Didn't
you see how worried he was earlier? Or
the fact that Hermione was in his
bedroom?"
Theo's eyebrows shot up. "They're - "
"No, they're not," Pansy immediately
shot that idea down. She'd spent many an
afternoon with Hermione - and while it
mostly involved relating stories about
her days in Hogwarts to Hermione, who
seemed utterly enthralled to hear them;
she knew for a fact that there wasn't
much of a progress when it came to the
relationship between Draco and
Hermione. "They're, well - "
And then she trailed off, because what
were they, really?
They weren't as set and defined as she
and Blaise were. She and Blaise were
perfectly aware of their feelings for each
other. And they were together in a time
like this because they had a common
goal - to end the war. They loved fast
and strong, like a hurricane that could
weather any storm, all storms, because
they never knew which day would be
their last.
"Promise me," she remembered Blaise
saying once to her, when they were
basking in the afterglow of sex and he
was freckling soft, slow open-mouthed
kisses down her collarbone, "that if I die
-"
"Why would you die?" She remembered
the catch in her voice, the slow tremor of
her heart like the beginnings of a
massive earthquake from within.
"I'm saying if," he smiled and reached up
to press a brief, chaste kiss to her lips.
"If I die, just promise me you will still
keep fighting."
Her thoughts cleared and she smiled
back at him. "Of course. And if I die -
you must promise to keep fighting too,
until the war ends."
Pansy knew for a fact that if either of
them died, the other would mourn for
awhile, but still carry on. For them, there
was no time for sadness, no time to fear.
There was just the here and the now, and
they captured every moment and tried to
make it better than its predecessor. No
regrets.
It was glaringly different for Draco and
Hermione. Pansy thought she could see a
glimpse of painful co-dependence
between the two, the kind that made her
shiver, the kind where one was alive
only because the other one was. It was -
well, it was beautiful and fascinating but
so dreadfully lethal and toxic in a time
like this.
She glanced over at Blaise when she
couldn't think of an answer to give to
Theo and he shrugged. Finally, she
settled on the vaguest sort of answer she
could come up with, "they may have
feelings for each other."
But it was sufficient for Theo's mouth to
fall open in surprise. "What - " he shut
his mouth abruptly with a visible effort,
and then there was a pause. Pansy could
almost see him trying to internalise the
revelation. It was going to be tough for
Theo to actually come to terms with it,
seeing as he neither believed in romance
or love.
"The Slytherin arse and the Gryffindor
princess?" He shook his head in
disbelief, letting out an awkward laugh
at last. "That'll be the fucking day."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Hermione wasn't awake.
She still wasn't awake and Draco
couldn't stop himself from pacing the
room rapidly, his breaths erratic like
sharp, painful stabs leaving puncture
wounds in his lungs. He didn't think he
had ever felt this...lost, like the world's
axis had vanished and it was spiralling
out of control.
Everything felt unravelled, he felt
unravelled, and nothing made sense.
Then a sudden rustling sound made him
pause, glancing over at Hermione
wildly. She was slowly stirring awake,
her lashes fluttering and her hand
pushing the covers aside.
"Granger."
He immediately rushed to her side,
pushing aside the covers for her. His
hands gripped her shoulders tightly, as
though he was terrified of her leaving
him, and he knew his grip was vice-like
but he couldn't help it.
He leaned over her, his figure dark
against the iridescent moonlight bathing
the room. "Fuck, Granger - how do you
feel?"
A slow, soft smile curved on her lips
and she stared up at him with a look that
made his heartbeat kick painfully. She
reached up to slide one of her palms
against his cheeks and drew her thumb
briefly against his skin.
"I'm okay."
The relief he felt was just as crushing as
the guilt was, just as physically
exhausting, and he let out a haggard sigh,
dropping his forehead against hers and
shutting his eyes. And because
everything had unravelled and nothing
made sense -
- he thought it was okay to let his lips
meet hers.
15 | accio

15
accio
Summons from a distance.

Hermione could barely breathe. She

didn't dare to. She held her breath
because it was too precious a moment to
break.
The pressure of his lips on hers were
light, almost cautious, which she found
fitting in a time like this. Her chest
tightened and her head spun with
something like the heady realisation that
Draco Malfoy was kissing her, actually
kissing her, because it often felt like he
was far too distant from her and this, this
was perfect.
And so she kissed him back, moving her
lips tentatively against his. Just lips
against lips, no tongue, no teeth; simple
as ever. His scent invaded her senses
like the best kind of aphrodisiac there
ever was, and she breathed him in,
sliding her fingers gently up his arm to
draw him closer. Because that was all
she ever wanted, really. Just him -
closer.
But then Draco froze under her touch,
and it was all over.
He drew away quickly, his eyes almost
obsidian as he glanced away and the
expression on his face an unusual shade
of indifference.
Hermione watched him warily. "Draco?"
"You should get some rest," he replied
calmly, taking the bowl from the dresser
and handing it to her. He was silent as
she drank all of it and when she was
done, he gently eased her back down
onto the bed, drawing the covers back
over her.
But he didn't leave, not this time. And,
after a moment's hesitation, he pulled the
leather chair over to her bedside and
settled down in it. His hand found hers
under the blanket and he held on tight. It
was funny, because she'd always treated
him like he was her lifeline and
somehow his grip seemed to suggest
otherwise.
"Sleep, Granger."
Hermione couldn't help but let a tiny,
satisfied smile curve on her lips.
Because he was right next to her, where
she'd always wanted him to be, and that
was all that mattered.
"Goodnight, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was more than surprised to find

that none of his flatmates were in their
respective rooms the next morning.
Pansy was sprawled on the sofa, while
Theo slept in a huddle on the floor. Only
Blaise was awake, even though it was
only six in the morning.
"Morning," Blaise was brewing a fresh
pot of coffee and he didn't even turn as
Draco entered the kitchen.
Draco frowned as he noticed the tired
bruises under Blaise's eyes. "Did you
even sleep at all?"
"No. I was up all night brewing these,"
Blaised gestured briefly to the phials on
the counter, each arranged according to
their medicinal purpose. "Have
Hermione drink these after breakfast.
There's more in the cupboard for the next
few days. How is she?"
"I don't fucking know," Draco answered
truthfully. He was still reeling from the
previous day's events and his usual
rational approach to things somehow
didn't seem to work when it came to
Hermione. He glanced over at Theo and
Pansy in the living room and his frown
deepened. "They didn't sleep much
either?"
"Not until three for Theo, and Pansy only
fell asleep about an hour ago. We were
worried, mate," Blaise added, when
Draco shot him a confused look. "You
don't know how scared we were when
we came back and saw bloodstains all
over the place."
Draco went white. "What?"
"Theo saw the worst of it. Hermione
used the Protean charm to call for help
and he was the first one back. He gave
her some blood-replenishing potion
because she'd already lost a lot of blood.
If he'd been any later, Hermione
would've been a lot worse. Pansy and I
only came back about a half hour later
and by then, the apartment had all kinds
of bloodstains all over because Theo
had been running around trying to find
the bloody potion. You should've seen
your room. There was blood
everywhere."
The words hit Draco like a ton of bricks.
He felt sick to his stomach and he hated
himself for not being more fucking
careful. He'd found Hermione, for fuck's
sake, and it was the least he could do to
look after her when she hadn't anyone
else.
"I fucking forgot the phials," Draco's
voice was strangled, weak, but he could
hardly care less. His fists were clenched
and his nails dug hard into his skin and
he swore he could almost feel his skin
slice open and bleed. But they didn't -
they should have - and he felt like a
complete prick for forgetting the one
connection he had to Hermione.
Blaise seemed to sense Draco's mood
and hastily placed a hand on his
shoulder. "It's not your fault. Pansy was
blaming herself earlier but it wasn't her
fault either. None of us knew, not even
Hermione."
Draco didn't feel any better. How could
he, when he was the one person who
was never supposed to fail Hermione
ever since he found her? But he did
anyway, in his usual fumbling way, and
she still looked at him like he hung the
fucking moon. He wasn't blind to any of
that.
"Are you going in to work today?"
Blaise's voice interrupted his thoughts,
and Draco shook his head. Blaise
smirked knowingly. "Thought so. I'll
cover for you; don't worry about it. Just
make sure Hermione gets better."
Draco mentally swore on Salazar's soul
that he would. The other three soon left
for work, despite being utterly drained
from the previous day. But it was an
unspoken agreement between the four of
them for as long as they had been living
in the apartment together - they could
never skip work together. It was far too
great a risk at a time like this.
Draco returned to the room sometime
later with breakfast and a tray of healing
potions, just in time to see Hermione
stirring awake. He quickly set the food
and medicine down with a wave of his
hand, before striding towards the bed
and gently helping her to sit up.
When she was leaning comfortably
against the pillows propped up behind
her, he finally dared to meet her frank
gaze. "How're you feeling, Granger?"
A soft smile glossed her lips. "I'm
alright."
He tried to pretend like her answer and
her smile didn't affect him, but it did. It
really did. A part of him was terrified
that he was finally caving in and being
by her side even though he wasn't
supposed to, but another part of him
revelled in the closeness again, because,
well, he fucking missed her. She was
like the brightest of suns on the coldest
of winter days and he couldn't help but
soak her in.
So even when she finished her breakfast
and the potions, he found himself unable
to leave when he should have. She lay
curled up on the bed and he lounged in
the chair and the air eased between them
and it was the way it was all over again.
"About Theo..." she began, when all was
quiet between them. He raised his
eyebrows and she shrugged. "I - I don't
know if I was hallucinating yesterday
but...I think I saw him. Did I?"
Draco nodded slowly. "He was the first
to find you. Probably saved your life by
giving you the blood-replenishing
potion."
Hermione's eyes grew wide with awe.
And after a moment's pause, she smiled.
"Can I - can I talk to him when he gets
back?"
"You want to talk to Theo?"
"To thank him," she turned on her side
and took Draco's hand, pressing it
beneath her cheek. And she kept it there
even as her eyes began to fall shut.
"Does this mean that I-I no longer have
to stay in hiding...since everyone knows
about me?"
Draco hadn't even thought much about
this, but now that she'd brought it up, he
realised that she was right. There was no
need for Hermione to stay hidden, she
was no longer his secret, she was theirs.
And he didn't know what sort of changes
this could bring about.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Theo was seldom ever nervous, because

being a nervous Death-Eater was just
plain stupid and ridiculous, but this was
one of the rare few times. He leaned
against the counter, tapping his foot
impatiently as he waited for Blaise and
Pansy to leave Draco's room.
He'd just learnt earlier that evening that
Hermione Granger wanted to talk to him.
Which was about fucking time, because
he was the last to know about her, but
then Blaise had to scare him off with talk
about how Hermione was different from
the old tenacious, feisty, idiotic
Gryffindor she used to be.
For Merlin's sake. How different could
she possibly be?
Then again, it was a war and Theo
wasn't blind to the kind of changes the
war had inflicted on the people in his
life.
"Theo," Pansy's voice made him look up.
She was beckoning him over as she and
Blaise stepped out of the room, looking
marginally more relieved than they had
been before they entered. Probably
because Hermione was now feeling
better.
Theo pushed himself off the counter and
sauntered over towards them, only for
Pansy to jab him nastily with the sharp
point of her elbow. "Ow, what the fuck?"
"Be nice," came her warning hiss. Blaise
was chuckling in amusement beside her.
And Theo wondered for the millionth
time how the four of them had managed
to live in the same apartment together for
so long.
He scowled, pushed past her and went
into the room. He stopped short once he
was properly inside. The mental image
of Hermione sprawled on the floor in a
pool of blood was vivid, and he
swallowed hard. Blood was fine, blood
was just blood, but it was different when
the blood belonged to someone whose
name he actually knew.
"Shut the door behind you."
Draco's voice dragged him out of the
memory, and Theo hastily kicked the
door shut behind him, lifting his gaze to
meet Hermione's. She was sitting at the
edge of the bed, gazing at him with
curious brown eyes. Her hand was
slotted within Draco's grasp and he sat
next to her, an unusually placid look on
his face.
Theo didn't think he'd ever seen Draco
looking so at ease before.
"Granger, you remember Theodore
Nott," Draco said to the girl beside him.
"Fellow Slytherin and, by extension, one
of your greatest enemies during
Hogwarts days."
Hermione's lips quirked in a brief smile,
but Theo noticed that it was a shy sort of
smile, hardly like the confident, self-
assured one he remembered back at
Hogwarts which, by the way, was never
directed at him. Mostly because he was
a prick back then, but still.
"Yes - yes, I think I remember." A tiny
frown surfaced on Hermione's forehead,
before it quickly cleared and she gazed
up at him questioningly. "Were you one
of the boys who...made fun of me in
Potions class?"
"Yes," Theo was surprised that she still
remembered. He let out a rather self-
conscious laugh. "Sorry 'bout that."
"It's okay. It's all in the past now."
And then there was awkward pause, the
kind Theo thoroughly hated. So he
quickly wracked his brains to come up
with something to fill the silence.
"If it helps, the other boy who made fun
of you in that class was Draco," was all
he could come up with.
But it was good enough, and Theo felt
the tension dissipate when Hermione's
smile widened, even as Draco threw a
frosty look his way. "Yes, I - I remember
that too. Thank you, by the way," she
added, as an afterthought, "for saving my
life last night."
Theo immediately felt uncomfortable.
He didn't think he would ever forget the
panic he felt the previous night. And he'd
kicked himself countless of times for
only being able to find a stupid blood-
replenishing potion for her, when he
could've done so much more if he
actually knew where Blaise stored the
rest of the damn healing potions or what
labels they went by.
"Oh, that," he quickly brushed it off with
a nonchalant laugh. "Yeah, it's nothing -
least I could do. So how long have you
been staying here?"
Hermione glanced unsurely at Draco
before frowning. "Over a month, I think."
She tugged hesitantly at the hem of her
jumper, which Theo belatedly realised
looked completely oversized on her.
Because it wasn't hers, it was obviously
Draco's.
Merlin, was Pansy actually right about
them?
Theo grinned. "Over a month, huh? So
listen, if you're tired of wearing Draco's
clothes all the time, I've got some
clothes from a couple of girls who spent
the night; you can have them if you
want."
"Oh," and then Hermione's eyes danced
and they seemed far more wicked than
Pansy's ever were. "Like those two girls
you brought home together the other
day?"
Draco smirked amidst her amused
giggles, and Theo thought that life had
suddenly gotten a lot more interesting
with Hermione Granger thrown into the
mix.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco? Are you awake?"

Of course he was. Draco couldn't
remember the last time he ever had a
good night's sleep, and his insomnia was
heightened now that Hermione was
living with him. He figured that he'd
sleep better once the war was over,
although, if he was being entirely honest
with himself, he didn't know if the war
would ever end.
Time was in such a state of stasis now.
He glanced over at Hermione, who
seemed equally as awake and alert as he
was. She struggled to sit up in bed.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," but the look of hesitation and
fear on her face told him otherwise. She
bit her lip. "I just - remember that night?
When someone lit the phials and there
was a name - "
He froze.
" - um, Al - " Hermione sounded like she
couldn't breathe and the words seemed
physically painful to say out loud.
And suddenly, the pieces fell into place.
"Granger," his voice was urgent, almost
desperate, but he could hardly help
himself. "Alecto Carrow - was she one
of them?"
Slowly, but surely, she nodded. "I didn't
remember...until I saw the phial."
He drew a deep, shuddering breath. He'd
been evading the topic for so long
because he hadn't wanted to push her, but
now seemed like right time to finally,
finally ask. "I've been wanting to ask you
this for awhile now," he began, trying to
stay calm, but it was difficult. "About
your - "
" - capture," she finished. Her hand
instinctively sought his, which he gave
without a moment's hesitation. She
smiled faintly, and he found his eyes
drawn to the magnetic upward pull of
her lips. "I've always wondered why you
didn't ask. I thought maybe you had seen
the phial of - of memories that Pansy
took."
"I haven't," he admitted, even though the
thought of that had always been so
terribly tempting. "I don't want to use
Legilimency on you, Granger. You're not
the enemy."
"Neither are you," she reminded him
softly, and his breath caught for a
moment because she had eased away his
insecurities with just three words. She
shifted closer to him even though he
seemed miles away on his chair.
"I remember - flashes," she started,
haltingly. Her voice was small and
almost inaudible, but she spoke loud
enough only for him to hear. "I don't even
remember how I ended up where I did,
Draco, I just remember that I was...there,
in some empty room. In many empty
rooms. They kept me at different places,
and gave me food and water - but just
barely enough so that I'd begin to starve,
but then they'd be back with more food
and water. I spent many days alone - I
think that's what I remember most -
just...waiting, I guess. They came in
every few days and I don't remember
most of those parts, but it was painful.
They just used the Cruciatus curse on me
a lot - "
His hand tightened on hers. He saw red
then, he really did, and he wanted
nothing more than to find Alecto Carrow
at that moment and tear her apart. Not
use the Avada on her, no, that was far too
simple and too quick a death for her.
He now understood how Pansy felt about
Fenrir Greyback because he felt the
same. He wanted to rip Alecto fucking
Carrow apart limb by limb, until she
was nothing but a limbless bloodied
body writhing and suffering on the
ground and even then it still wouldn't be
enough, he would -
"Draco," Hermione's gentle voice pulled
him out of his daze and he glanced over
at her. Her eyes were filled with
concern; concern not for herself but for
him.
He cleared the thoughts from his head
and got up from the chair. He didn't
know who was more surprised - him or
her, when he sat down on the bed next to
her, leaning against the headboard just as
she was, before pulling her into his
arms. "You don't have to continue if you
don't want to."
"It's okay," came her quiet reply. "I don't
mind telling you what happened. I
just...wish I could remember more. I do
remember marking the walls though,"
and she lifted her hand to trace the wall
next to the bed, fingers counting off four
vertical strokes before finishing it off
with a horizontal fifth. "There was this
place that had a ratty chipped wall made
of...decaying wood, I think. And I used
my fingernails to carve the days in. So
that I-I could remember something, at
least. I also remember how some people
sent me food, just days before you found
me. I was on the verge of starving, so
they saved my life. Their voices kept me
alive most nights. Are they - "
She turned to look up at him, an
unspoken question on the tip of her
tongue. Draco immediately knew what it
was, and he closed his eyes briefly,
recalling the look of terror on the little
boy's face back at the Quarry.
"Yeah, they are."
"Oh."
Her eyes misted and she pressed her
face against his chest, weeping silent
tears into his jumper. And she was quiet
for a long while after, so long that he
knew she wasn't going to say another
word about what had happened, at least
for the night. So he just held her, because
when it came to Hermione Granger, it
seemed like that was all he could do
sometimes, while the world outside spun
madly on.
16 | fidelius

16
fi del i us
Conceals a secret.

Draco had fallen asleep with Hermione

in his arms.
And he didn't realise it, not until the next
morning, when the sound of soft knocks
on the door slowly awoke him. His
sleep was fitful, as usual, with dreams
drifting in and out of his subconscious
and his mind jolting awake every so
often, his senses alert as ever.
Because when it came to a war, you
slept with your eyes wide open.
But it was different last night. He felt
more rested, somehow, and a part of him
wondered if it had anything to do with
the witch whose head lay on his chest.
He glanced down at her silently. One of
her hands lay fisted around the fabric of
his jumper; while the other clutched the
phial hanging from the chain he'd given
to her. Her breaths were steady,
peaceful, which seemed almost
ludicrous in a time like this.
The persistent knocking on the door
drew him out of his reverie and he gently
shifted Hermione aside before getting up
and going over to answer the door.
Blaise was standing outside, two plates
of waffles in his hands; and Pansy was
next to him, holding a tray of healing
potions. She managed a half-smirk by
way of greeting, but Blaise smiled
brightly at him. "Morning, mate. How's
Hermione?"
"Still sleeping," Draco replied, casting a
brief glance over his shoulder at the
brunette on his bed. But Hermione was
no longer sleeping; she was slowly
beginning to sit up and smiled when she
saw Blaise and Pansy standing by the
doorway.
"Hello, Hermione," Pansy pushed past
Draco quickly, ignoring the low growl in
his throat as she did, and headed straight
for the girl. It had only been weeks, but
Pansy sometimes treated Hermione like
she was her best mate and if he was
being entirely honest, this nicer side of
Pansy was sure as hell fucking with his
mind.
"How're you feeling?" Pansy asked,
setting the potions on the bedside drawer
and helping Hermione to the edge of the
bed. Blaise took that as a cue to enter the
room too, pushing past Draco and setting
the waffles down on the table.
Draco swore under his breath and shut
the door. If he didn't shut the door, he
was almost certain even Theo would
come barging in sooner or later. His
room was beginning to feel like a
common meeting place and he didn't
quite know how he felt about that.
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed
genuinely pleased to see the other two
Death-Eaters. "I-I'm much better now,"
she said, "thank you."
"So, listen," Blaise began, "if you're
feeling better, why don't you come out of
the room?"
Draco immediately froze at Blaise's
question.
"There's a TV outside, we've got tons of
things to do outside, and you can get eat
whatever food you can find in the
kitchen. I mean, you can't stay in this
room forever - "
Hermione's look of discomfort went
unnoticed by Blaise, but Draco certainly
noticed it and he shot Pansy an irritated
glance, which she caught immediately.
"What Blaise meant to say was - we'd
love if you could come out," Pansy
hastily interrupted, trying to sound as
pleasant as she could. "Maybe have a
meal or two with all of us."
"All - all of you?" Hermione echoed,
sounding rather faint.
Blaise shrugged. "You've already met all
of us, even Theo. I know that Draco's
room is a safe haven for you, but you
can't stay in here forever."
The pause that followed his words was
thick and tense enough to cut with a
knife. And Draco quickly decided that
Blaise and Pansy had overstayed their
welcome, so he opened the door,
propping it open with his shoulder.
"Don't you two have to get to work?"
Pansy's eyes glinted knowingly at him.
"Don't you?"
"You know I can be as late as I fucking
want. I'll meet you three at the Manor."
The definitive tone in his voice was
explicitly clear, and Pansy and Blaise
swiftly headed out of the room after
telling Hermione to take good care of
herself. Then it was just the two of them,
and Draco turned to her after shutting the
door.
"You alright, Granger?"
She smiled weakly. "I'm okay," she said,
her voice soft. And, after a pause,
continued, "do you think Blaise was
right? Do I...do I have to - " she trailed
off, sounding so afraid that Draco had to
cut in.
"You don't have to do anything you don't
want to, Granger. You can stay in this
room if that's what you want."
The curve of her lips deepened and
widened, and it was simply beautiful.
He wondered for the millionth time how
he hadn't ever noticed Hermione
Granger's smile before. Probably
because he had that massive stick of
snobbery and pureblood crap shoved up
his fucking arse back during Hogwarts
days.
He hadn't any of that anymore and what
with both his parents dead, he was
finally free to think however he wanted
of Granger, and the mere idea of that
alone was both liberating and terrifying.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The general meeting with the Dark Lord
the next day was both dreary and
depressing, but Blaise found himself
kept on tenterhooks as he always was
whenever he was in the same room as
the Dark Lord.
Draco was right by the Dark Lord's side
as usual, with that cold, indifferent
façade he'd long mastered, looking
utterly bored out of his mind. Blaise
didn't think anyone else saw the
calculative gleam in Draco's eyes as he
studied the other Death-Eaters in the
room, but Blaise had been friends with
Draco for long enough to know that he
was thinking.
Draco Malfoy was always thinking.
As for Blaise, he was simply content to
pretend like the Dark Lord's words were
worth the weight of gold, not too far off
from the way the rest of the Death-Eaters
treated the Dark Lord - although in their
cases they probably did think the world
of their leader.
Bloody brainwashed bastards, Blaise
couldn't help but think, then firmly
shoved the thoughts from his mind.
Draco's locks on his mind always held,
but Blaise didn't think he could afford
the risk of anyone finding out what he
truly thought.
A sudden movement from beside him
made him freeze, and he cast a
surreptitious glance to his side. Graham
Pritchard was beside him, a look of
focused attention on his face as he
pretended to listen to the conversation in
the room, but his posture was stiff.
Graham jerked his head slightly towards
the exit, a movement so minuscule that
Blaise almost missed it, before
mouthing, "later."
Blaise managed an inconspicuous nod.
Graham fell a step back.
Across the room, Draco's gaze
sharpened and landed on Blaise, which
wasn't much of a surprise because Draco
never missed anything. His intent was
clear - what did Pritchard want?
Blaise didn't know. But he was going to
find out. The meeting soon came to an
end, with Draco picking the next batch of
Death-Eaters on his newest mission.
This time, neither Blaise, Pansy nor
Theo were involved, and while Blaise
was marginally relieved to not be sent
on another death-trap mission, he
couldn't help but feel concerned about
Draco.
Still, Draco could hold his own. He
always had.
Blaise made his way out of the room,
careful to avoid his friends - since the
four always made sure not to be seen
together. Graham was already waiting
for him by the doorway, and Blaise
paused.
"I'll meet you at Diagon Alley," he
murmured swiftly, before leaving
Malfoy Manor. Once outside, he
apparated to the meeting place and didn't
have to wait long before Graham
appeared some distance away from him.
Blaise nodded as a brief greeting and
headed towards him. "You have
something to tell me?"
"Yeah," Graham glanced around
suspiciously. The streets were relatively
empty; the once crowded Diagon Alley
now a deserted place because of the
war. But that didn't mean that there
weren't enemies lurking round every
corner. He cast a quick disillusionment
charm on himself, before saying, "I
found out something else about Yaxley."
Blaise felt mighty foolish because it
seemed like he was having a
conversation with himself. But this new
revelation was too good to pass up.
"What did you find?"
"I was on patrol alone the other day
when I saw Yaxley going into the White
Wyvern, and he was acting
suspiciously," Graham began, keeping
his voice low, "so I trailed him in. He
went into this private room - you know
how the White Wyvern has this meeting
rooms that only Death-Eaters can use?"
Blaise nodded. "He went into one of
those?"
"Yeah. I think someone was waiting for
him in the room, and I heard them talking
about an organisation within the inner
circle of Death-Eaters. Yaxley's
obviously one of them. They call
themselves the Peverells - or something
similar to that."
Blaise ears immediately pricked up.
"The Peverells?"
"You know about them, mate?"
"No, not at all."
And Blaise's mind was reeling. This
was new, this was information they
hadn't ever heard before - hell, he didn't
even know what it was but it was
definitely important.
They finally, finally had a lead.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Blaise told the other three Slytherins

about the Peverells the moment he
returned back to the apartment that
evening. There was nothing but stunned
silences in the wake of his words and he
relished in their confusion. It wasn't
often that he saw Pansy and Theo
speechless and, best of all, the look of
hesitation on Draco's normally confident
face.
"Well?" Blaise said, when a few
seconds had ticked by and they were all
still silent. "Do any of you know
anything about it?"
Pansy and Theo immediately turned to
Draco, who shrugged. "Nothing. But at
least we know that Yaxley is a part of it
- and, in all likelihood, Alecto Carrow
too - "
"And Amycus," Theo added, before
grinning. "Had a patrol with him today.
Stupid prat was talking nineteen to the
dozen, so I hit him with a silencing
charm. Then I used that spell - and he
does have memory charms placed on
him too."
Blaise frowned worriedly. "Did he - "
"Didn't suspect a bloody thing. For
fuck's sake, Blaise, how careless do you
think I am?"
"Very careless, remember that one time -
"
"Save your banter for some other time,
lovebirds," Pansy cut in, as she rolled
her eyes. "Could we get back to the topic
at hand? Draco? What should we do
next?"
Draco pushed himself off the counter.
"Give me a minute," he muttered, before
heading straight into his room, leaving
the other three staring after him with
matching befuddled expressions.
Theo was the first to break the silence.
"Did he just fucking leave us in the
middle of a conversation to shag
Hermione?"
Pansy's eyebrows shot up. "They're
shagging?"
"Just hazarding a guess. Give him a
minute or two - maybe he'll start yelling
'Accio condom'."
Blaise snorted a sardonic laugh.
"Talking about yourself there, mate?"
Theo smirked. "Why do you think your
stash of condoms is always missing?"
"Bloody hell, Theo - "
"It was a fucking joke - "
"Hold on a second," Pansy intervened,
glaring at Theo through narrowed eyes.
"Are you saying that you're the one who
has been stealing the condoms? Blaise
and I had to go without sex on those
nights when there weren't any condoms
and we were searching the whole
bloody apartment just for that and you're
telling me now that you stole them?"
"Technically, I did not steal them, I told
them to come to me and they did. That's
what the Accio spell's for, Pansy."
"Go fuck yourself, Theo - "
But Pansy trailed off when Draco re-
emerged from his room, shutting the door
behind him and casting muffling charms
on the room. He strode back to them and
pushed himself up on the counter again.
"Right, here's what we're going to do,"
he began, before turning to Blaise. "You
and I are going to do some research to
find out who the hell the Peverells are.
We'll go to the black market if we need
more books. And you - " he turned to
Theo now. "Granger says it's alright for
you to view her memories. So take a
look at the phial when you can. I'll need
you and Parkinson to keep reviewing her
memories. See if you can find any
leads."
"Oh. So that's what you were doing back
in your room," Blaise said, before
looking pointedly at Theo.
"Of course," Draco shot Theo an
unamused glance. "And Accio condom?
Really?"
Theo grinned. "You heard that?"
"Yeah. And by the way, do you also
require Wingardium Leviosa before you
shag?" Draco couldn't help but add,
smirking when Pansy and Blaise began
to laugh. He hoped the girl inside the
room was laughing too, because he'd
said it loud enough just for her to hear.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione sat on the bed some days later

with a slip of paper in her hand and the
telephone right next to her. The paper
was yellow and faded, slightly wrinkled
from the creases she'd made as she
gripped it between her fingertips. She
felt like she'd been sitting in the same
position for half a lifetime, when in all
actuality it was a mere few hours.
She could still remember what Draco
had said the previous night. It seemed
like the both of them had gotten back to
their old footing - or perhaps a place
better than where they used to be. And
Draco had told her about the places he
went to find her the past three years.
"I'd stay behind to check the place after
each patrol," he had said, his eyes
downcast as though he couldn't quite
meet her gaze. But this wasn't a surprise
to her. She knew this, because she
always heard him and that was the only
reason why she could never forget him.
She knew he was sorry that he couldn't
find her for so long. But it wasn't his
fault. How could it be his fault when he
had been the only one not to give up
looking for her?
Well, one of the two people. His aunt
Andromeda was the other.
"She's the one who told me about you in
the first place. She said that if I really
wanted to - fix the mess I made, then I'd
help to look for you. She thought that I'd
be able to help more than anyone
because I'm a Death-Eater - but, well, I
didn't fucking know anything for three
whole years."
This was all new to Hermione. She felt
heartened to know that there was
someone out there, apart from Draco,
who cared about her during her
imprisonment. "Will you thank your aunt
for me?" She had asked, but he'd simply
smirked.
"You can thank her yourself, Granger,"
he replied evenly. He reached over to
open the drawer from the bedside table
and after shuffling through the items in it
for a moment, he fished out a piece of
paper. "That's her number. She's the only
reason why I have a bloody telephone in
my room."
And so Hermione found herself sitting
next to the telephone now, her mind
reeling with apprehension and anxiety.
This was different - this was talking to
someone other than the four who lived in
the apartment. She didn't know
Andromeda - or maybe she did, but she
just couldn't remember anymore.
Andromeda was a complete stranger.
But nevertheless, she knew she owed
Andromeda her life. And it was with this
newfound admission that she drew in a
deep breath and picked up the phone.
Her fingers were trembling as she
dialled the number. There were three
rings, and then -
"Password, please."
Hermione froze at the decidedly
feminine voice on the other end of the
line. Her mouth was dry and her heart
was pounding. She wished desperately
that Draco was by her side at the
moment.
"Password, please," the other person
sounded far more cautious this time.
Hermione gripped the phone tightly.
"An-andromeda?"
There was a startled pause. A few
seconds ticked by before the person
spoke again. "Who is this?"
"I-I'm - Her -"
"Hermione?" The person drew in a
sharp breath. "Hermione Granger, is that
you?"
"Yes," Hermione forced out, trying to
sound calm amidst her skittering nerves.
"Hello, Andromeda."
Another pause. And then there came a
relieved sigh from the other end.
"Hermione, I'm so glad to hear from you!
Are you well?"
"Yes, I am. I just called to talk to you -
and thank you, mostly, for - well..."
"You're very welcome, it was the least I
could do," Andromeda assured her. Her
voice was lilting and almost maternal,
and Hermione found herself warming up
to the woman instantly. "Does Draco
treat you well?"
Hermione felt her anxiety quickly
dissipating at the mention of Draco's
name. "Oh, yes, he does...he's
wonderful."
If Andromeda noticed the stilted
answers on Hermione's end, she didn't
say a thing about it. "I'm glad. Tell me,
how is Draco? Draco's been far too busy
to call me and I've been worrying."
Hermione smiled at that. She settled
back against the wall along the left side
of the bed, grabbing a pillow and
hugging it to her chest. It wasn't easy to
talk to Andromeda - or to anyone else
but Draco, for that matter - about herself,
because words didn't come easy to her
anymore.
But she talked to Andromeda about
Draco - about mornings and afternoons
and evenings spent with Draco, about
how clever he was at magic and how
brave he was in a time like this - and the
words didn't fail her this time, because it
was Draco and talking about him was
easier than breathing.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco didn't expect to see Hermione on

the phone when he returned home that
afternoon. She glanced up when he shut
the door and hastily pushed herself up,
her eyes lighting up when she saw him.
"You're back," she sounded genuinely
relieved.
He went over to her, his rigid stance
immediately relaxing when she wrapped
her arms around him, burying her face
against his neck. He could feel her warm
breaths on his skin and the way her hair
tickled his chin; and he shut his eyes for
a brief moment because, with her, it
often felt like the war and everything
else had faded out, if only for awhile.
But it didn't last long, and he reluctantly
pulled back before gesturing to the
phone in her hand. "How long have you
been talking to Dromeda?"
"All afternoon," she held the phone up to
him. "Would you like to talk to her?"
Draco took the phone from Hermione,
settling down beside her on the bed and
pressed the phone to his ear.
"Dromeda?"
"Ah, there you are," Andromeda sounded
thoroughly amused. "I was beginning to
think you'd forgotten all about your old
aunt now that you've got Hermione."
He didn't miss the teasing lilt in his
aunt's voice and didn't know whether to
be annoyed or embarrassed. Merlin, if
his aunt acted this way, he couldn't
imagine how it'd be like if his mother...
No. Those were dangerous territories.
Draco cleared the thoughts out from his
head and focused on the conversation.
"I've been busy. How've you been,
Dromeda? Any word on your end?"
"I presume you mean about the Order.
Well, it's still inactive. Last I heard
they've set up camp somewhere, but it's
more of a safehouse than anything - I
don't think they'll be going back into the
battlefield anytime soon."
Draco made an aggravated noise. The
bloody Order. Where the hell was all
their stupid Gryffindor tenacity and
Ravenclaw ingenuity and Hufflepuff
righteousness at a time like this?
"I'm sorry, Draco," his aunt sounded
truly contrite, but it wasn't even her fault
and his annoyance wasn't directed at her.
"I wish things would speed up on their
end but they still seem to be stuck in that
rut they've been in for three years now."
"All that talk about Slytherin cowardice
back in school but it seems that us
Slytherins are the only ones doing all the
fighting now," Draco deadpanned,
gratified when he heard his aunt chuckle
and agree heartily.
"Well, I am proud of you, Draco, you
know that. So is Hermione," his aunt
added slyly. Draco couldn't help but let
his gaze wander to the brunette who sat
beside him quietly. She was reading a
book that he'd given her several days
ago, but her fingers were still casually
intertwined with his.
He wondered if Andromeda and
Hermione would still feel proud if they
knew all the things he did. All the things
he had started. And all the things he
would do.
His jaw clenched. "Yes, save the
sentiment for some other time," he
returned shortly. It seemed like this was
his catchphrase with his aunt, but he
couldn't help it.
Andromeda laughed. "Alright then, I'll
be ringing off now. Take care, will you?
And - "
"Stay safe?"
"Always."
He felt the knotted tension within him
dissipate. She rang off, and he listened
to the flat, monotonous beeping for a
moment before setting the telephone
aside.
"I like her," Hermione's voice broke the
silence. There was a small, amused
smile playing on her lips, her thumb
tracing arbitrary patterns on Draco's skin
as she held his hand. It felt oddly
comforting, even though he knew it was
an unconscious action on her part.
"Dromeda?"
"Yes," Hermione pushed her book aside
and glanced up at Draco. "She - she
reminds me of you."
Draco's eyebrows rose. He'd never
considered the possibility of being even
remotely similar to Andromeda, mostly
because she was the only one in his
family who fought for the light, while the
rest of them had always lingered in the
deepest shadows.
"She makes me feel safe too," Hermione
explained, when he didn't say anything.
Draco quite thought that he'd misheard.
"You feel safe with me?"
"Of course," she didn't miss a beat.
Draco couldn't quite wrap his head
around that idea. That Hermione felt safe
with him, him - the most lethal Death-
Eater and the one who brought about the
most bloodshed during this war.
17 | quietus

17
qui etus
Quietens sound.

It was one of those rare evenings where

the house was empty when Hermione
finally decided that she was ready to
leave the room. Draco was dozing off in
his chair - she noticed that he never
actually did sleep properly, instead
preferring to take a quick shuteye
whenever he could. But his wand was
always, always beside him and the
features on his face never relaxed.
Hermione couldn't help but watch him;
the way his shoulders rose and fell
steadily, and even while unconscious he
seemed to exude this essence of
confidence that she knew she could
never pull off. Well, at least not now
anyway. Pansy had told her that she used
to be one of the brightest students during
their Hogwarts days, and Hermione
supposed that she had been a lot more
confident back then.
"Confident, and aggravating," Theo
hadn't minced his words one bit.
"Merlin, Granger, you were fucking
annoying."
It was funny how they'd never gotten
along in the past, which was a shame
because Theo was idiotic and funny in
the best possible way. And Draco was
shrewd and arrogant in the best possible
way too. She glanced over at him now
and managed a fond smile. Maybe the
war had changed them and their
perspectives some.
So maybe good things did come out of a
war.
"Do you always watch people sleep,
Granger?" Draco's voice abruptly broke
the silence and he slowly opened his
eyes, watching her with thinly veiled
amusement. Damn him and his
heightened senses.
Hermione blushed rapidly. "Well, I
wasn't - it wasn't like..."
"It's fine, Granger," he quickly cut in,
when she began to flounder for a proper
reply. He got up, his jumper rising over
his lean hips to reveal a pale strip of
skin as he stretched.
And he had to stifle a smirk when he
noticed Hermione's eyes flitting over to
him, her cheeks darkening further before
hastily glancing away. It was nice to
know that he wasn't the only one affected
by her presence because, Merlin, he
swore her scent and her lips and all of
her just did his head in sometimes.
"Are you hungry?" He asked.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Actually,
I was wondering if, maybe - maybe
you'd show me the rest of the house?"
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "You want to
leave the room?"
"Just to look around."
She looked so bloody apprehensive and
afraid that Draco felt something in his
chest pull. "Sure, Granger."
He waited for her to climb out of bed
and straighten her (well, his, actually)
jumper. She took slow, unsteady steps
towards the door and her hands were
shaking, actually shaking, as she waited
for him to undo the locks on the door.
"Go on," Draco said, once he'd pulled
the door open.
She paused hesitantly by the doorway;
her eyes fixed on him rather than on what
was outside. And so Draco held out his
hand for her to take. "Come on."
She slipped her hand in his and
automatically interlaced their fingers.
And then she shifted slightly behind him,
gripping onto the sleeve of his jumper.
"Okay. I'm ready."
It was just a simple act of leaving the
room, but Draco knew it meant more
than that. It was like showing the world
to a snail that had lived in its shell for so
long. And the rest of the world was
daunting - and at a time like this,
frightening. So nothing about this
process could be rushed.
Draco showed her the living room and
the kitchen. He noticed the way
Hermione's eyes lingered on the
Wizard's chess set on the coffee table, a
thoughtful, confused expression slipping
onto her features. The fucking Weasel
loved playing Wizard's chess. Clearly,
some things, however vague they were,
could never quite be forgotten.
But Hermione soon lost interest in that,
asking instead about which rooms were
Pansy's, Blaise's and Theo's. He showed
her Pansy and Blaise's shared one, as
well as Theo's.
"It's right in the corner so we wouldn't
hear him if he shags. The wanker
sometimes forgets to put a silencing
charm," Draco explained, gratified when
Hermione laughed.
He briefly showed her the guest room,
before going to the last room, which was
the inventory. Maybe it was the
dismissive tone he used when talking
about it, because Hermione didn't push
or ask about it. Which suited him fine.
He wasn't sure if he could risk
Hermione's life by letting her know what
they did.
Not yet, anyway.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco? Are you awake?"

"Yeah." Draco almost smirked to himself
in the darkness. This was quickly
becoming a catchphrase with Hermione
when she wanted to talk to him in the
middle of the night.
"Do you - do you remember the time I
punched you in the face?"
It was one of the few things he was
certain he'd never forget. He glanced
over at her, only to realize that she was
already watching him with wide brown
eyes. "What about it, Granger?"
"I think I remember why I did that," she
began softly.
He froze.
"I used to think it was only because I
was mad at you. But I think -
and...correct me if I'm wrong," she
continued, oblivious to the barely
concealed tension on his face. "I think it
had something to do with a...bird, or
something - "
"A hippogriff," Draco offered, watching
her carefully. "Cross between a bird and
a horse," he explained, when Hermione
began to look confused. "In my defence,
Granger, the bloody chicken injured me.
It was mental and had to be executed."
Hermione blinked. "You tried to kill the
hippogriff?"
"It was fucking mental!" Draco insisted,
wondering why the conversation had
suddenly taken a turn for the familiar, for
the nostalgic, where the both of them had
vastly differing opinions.
"It was an animal, Draco...you probably
provoked it or something."
Draco automatically scowled and leaned
back against his chair. "I'm not having
this argument with you, Granger. Go
back to sleep."
But he was surprised to hear Hermione
chuckle in amusement as she settled back
down on the pillow. Her gaze was soft
as she stared up at him and she smiled.
"I-I don't hate you for what you did back
in Hogwarts."
"What?" He wondered if she was on to
him, that she'd finally figured out that he
was worried she'd remember the stupid
things that he did and would start hating
him for it, just the way she used to a long
time ago.
"I remember you calling me a
mudblood," she said, matter-of-factly.
Her eyes drifted over to the scar on her
arm that Bellatrix had branded her with
and Draco felt his insides twist
painfully. "And you making fun of me
back in school...it - it all comes in
flashes, but even if I remember these
things, it doesn't make me hate you,
Draco."
Merlin, she knew. He didn't know how
she did; she just had him all figured out.
Hermione Granger had always been the
brightest witch of their age anyway.
"Because it's all in the past," she added,
after a moment's pause. "It's all
forgotten."
And then something clicked. Something
just fell into place.
Draco froze as realisation suddenly
dawned on him. He could practically
feel his mind racing, the extraneous,
irrelevant thoughts evaporating as he
focused on the one thing that mattered,
the one puzzle piece that had finally fit.
It's all forgotten.
It all comes in flashes.
Of course. It made sense why Granger's
memory was all over the place, why she
remembered some people and forgot
about others, why she slowly began to
remember things after awhile. And it
was just a hunch, but Draco knew that
his hunches were often right and it was
this -
Someone had used Obliviate on
Hermione Granger.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Pansy never hated herself more than she
did on the nights when there was a full
moon. It was always a harrowing night
of screaming and crying and sleepless
hours, and she hated that she had to
involve the other three Slytherins
because of her condition.
And when it was all over and done with,
she was always an exhausted mess.
Blaise had dropped her off that morning
with a quick kiss before hurrying off for
his patrol. She had collapsed on the sofa
thereafter, her body lead heavy and
cheeks stained with dried tears, and had
promptly fallen asleep.
She awoke sometime around eleven, her
limbs stiff and aching. To her surprise,
she found a blanket carefully placed
over her, along with a mug of tea on the
coffee table. For a brief moment, she
wondered if perhaps Blaise had
returned, but a second glance at the
blanket made her freeze.
It was Hermione.
Hermione had actually left the room,
found her, and done all this for her.
Pansy let out a soft chuckle of disbelief,
reaching over to take a sip of the tea and
was pleasantly surprised.
Well, one thing was for sure. Hermione
Granger didn't remember much but she
sure remembered how to make good tea.
Pansy clambered to her feet, picked up
the mug and blanket, and slowly made
her way to Draco's room. Hermione
answered after three knocks, looking
marginally relieved to see Pansy.
"Pansy, hi," Hermione breathed, a smile
flitting across her face. "How - how are
you feeling?"
"Oh, lots better, thanks to you."
Hermione opened the door wider and
Pansy made her way in, setting the
blanket and mug down on the table. "I
didn't realise you've been leaving the
room."
"Not all the time," Hermione hedged,
settling down on Draco's chair while
Pansy sat on the table. "Draco brought
me out some days ago - and I wanted
some tea this morning so I came out, and
found you in the living room."
"You make good tea."
Hermione smiled brightly. "I-I remember
making it a lot for myself in the past. At
least - that's what I remember recently."
"What else do you remember?" Pansy
couldn't help but ask. Patience and
sensitivity had never really been two of
her strong suits anyway.
"Well - Christmas," Hermione
confessed, after a moment's pause. "Not
much, but I remember decorating the
tree. And - presents, I think people
always gave me books for Christmas."
It was a conversation with Hermione
that Pansy remembered clearly. So when
she passed Diagon Alley with Draco
several days later, she paused in front of
one of the shops that sold Christmas
trees. There was a wide range of trees,
from white tipped ones to evergreen firs.
Despite the war, Christmas was one of
the few holidays many people still
celebrated.
Pansy and the others never celebrated
Christmas, because merriment was just
plain pointless thanks to their job
description, but Pansy wondered if it
was worth it this year, if only for
Hermione. She tugged Draco to a stop
and pointed out a particular tree to him.
He shot her a flat look. "You know I
fucking hate Christmas."
"Well, Blaise loves Christmas. And so
does Hermione,' Pansy added pointedly.
"She loves decorating the Christmas
tree."
She smirked in triumph when Draco let
out a heavy sigh, before stalking into the
shop and purchasing one of the most
expensive, greenest ones, along with
several other arbitrary ornaments he
picked out.
And then, ever the gentleman, he made
her lug the tree back to the apartment.
But Pansy thought it was very worth it to
see the look of sheer happiness on
Blaise's face when he saw the tree set up
in the living room. Blaise immediately
set down the book he was reading,
crossing the room in quick strides and
proceeding to kiss her soundly. "This is
why I love you," he murmured, in
between kisses.
Pansy smiled and was just about to reply
when a shout of horror disrupted the
overall merriment. Theo had just come
out of the kitchen and the look of utter
disgust on his face was honestly
laughable.
"What the fuck - " he turned to Draco.
"What's a fucking plant doing in our
living room? Mate - " and then he
paused as Draco set a brown paper bag
down on the coffee table. Draco shot
Pansy a look, but Theo didn't catch it and
continued heatedly, "there better be
firewhisky and condoms in there or I
swear on Salazar's grave, Draco, I will -
"
His voice vanished as Pansy hit him
with a silencing charm. Before he could
remove the spell from himself, Blaise
and Pansy had dragged him into the
kitchen, where the counter blocked them
from plain view of the living room. Theo
finally removed the spell and scowled at
the happy couple.
"What the hell was that for?"
Pansy shook her head fondly at him.
"The tree's for Hermione, Theo. She
spent three years in captivity, don't you
think she deserves some holiday spirit to
cheer her up?"
Theo scowled again but kept his mouth
shut. Damn Pansy and her knack for
effective guilt-tripping.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco thought he was rapidly losing his

mind. First, he'd bought a stupid
Christmas tree. And then, he'd actually
bought ornaments to go with the bloody
tree. Stuff some pillows under his shirt
and drape a red cloth over him and he
might as well be Santa fucking Clause.
Hermione was reading, a hobby she had
seemed to pick up again that reminded
him very much of Hogwarts days. But
she pushed aside her book the moment
he entered the room, glancing up at him
with a bright smile.
"Granger, there's a bloody Christmas
tree in the living room," he said bluntly,
before she could greet him. "Do you
want to decorate it?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she
immediately scrambled off the bed.
"Yes," she breathed, "you bought a
Christmas tree?"
"Pansy's idea," Draco admitted, knowing
that he couldn't take credit when it
wasn't due. "She thought you might like
one."
"I do love Christmas," Hermione readily
agreed and took Draco's hand. He led
her out of the room, aware that the others
standing in the kitchen were all watching
her expression closely.
Pansy was right - it was worth it, and the
look on Hermione's face left no room for
second-guessing. Her eyes lit up when
she caught a glimpse of the tree, before
her gaze travelled to the ornaments laid
out on the coffee table and her smile
widened. Then she glanced over at him,
over at the other three Slytherins, and
back to him again.
Draco smirked. "All yours, Granger."
She needed no further encouragement.
Dropping his hand hesitantly, she went
over to the coffee table and began
selecting specific ornaments. Draco
sauntered over to his friends and leaned
against the counter beside Theo, who
still seemed quite repulsed.
"She's choosing all the fucking
Gryffindor colours," Theo hissed,
making sure to keep his voice low so
that Hermione couldn't hear. "Look! Red,
gold, red, gold - "
"Strange," Pansy seemed quite amused.
"And we didn't even tell her the colours
of her house. She couldn't even
remember which house she was in until I
told her."
"You know what I see? I don't see red,
gold, red, gold. All I see is Potter,
Weasel, Potter, Weasel," Theo spat out
their names like some sort of bad tasting
food, and Draco couldn't help but smirk.
The war had changed many things but not
his entire belief system, and he
completely and wholeheartedly agreed
with Theo.
"But look how happy she is," Pansy said,
with the kind of warmth they seldom
heard from her. "I think we should all get
her presents this Christmas."
Theo's mouth fell open. "What?"
"It's a great idea, baby," Blaise nodded.
"It's pointless for us to celebrate
Christmas for ourselves, but we could
celebrate it for her. Theo?"
Theo made a reluctant noise of
agreement. The four continued to watch
Hermione for a moment, before Pansy
broke the silence. "The red and gold
ornaments are quite compatible with the
green tree though, don't you think?"
Blaise wrapped his arms around her and
laughed. "Ah, Christmas. The only time
of the year where Gryffindor's colours
actually matches Slytherin's."
But Draco wasn't listening. He found
himself enraptured by the light on
Hermione's face, hardly able to take his
eyes off her as she decorated the tree.
She seemed completely absorbed in the
task, hardly noticing the other four
Slytherins in the kitchen. Her curls were
in disarray and he watched as one of her
brown locks caught on a branch, and she
tugged it away quickly before going back
to hanging a gold globe on that same
branch.
It wasn't an earth-shattering moment, or
one that Draco knew he would
remember in years to come. It was this
moment, a particular lazy afternoon
during a chaotic time and a girl hanging
ornaments on a stupid Christmas tree -
when Draco Malfoy suddenly realised
that he had feelings for Hermione
Granger.
The realisation terrified him more than
ever, but the adrenaline rush that quickly
followed was just as exhilarating, and he
couldn't decide whether he loathed or
craved it.
18 | point

18
p o i ntme
Wand behaves like a compass.

Hermione was slowly familiarising

herself with the apartment. Every
morning, after the four Slytherins had
left, she'd venture out of the room. She'd
head straight for the kitchen to make a
pot of tea - wandless, of course, because
she didn't dare to use magic
unsupervised - before returning back
into the room.
But Hermione was feeling more
confident this particular morning, and
after she'd made her tea, she lingered in
the kitchen for awhile. The kitchen was
almost immaculate, and she'd learnt from
Draco sometime back that it was all
Blaise's work, the only one among the
four who was adept at using magic in the
kitchen.
She checked the shelves out of curiosity,
only to find it stocked full with potions
and unknown ingredients. And then
paused when she came across a large
box of chocolate frogs. Picking up one of
the small boxes inside, she studied it
carefully.
"Are you going to eat that?"
An unfamiliar feminine voice made
Hermione jump and drop the box in
fright. A chocolate frog immediately
leapt out of the box, heading straight for
the living room, but Hermione didn't
even notice. She was far too busy staring
in horror at the other girl standing by the
counter.
The girl made a grab for the frog as it
leapt past her, swearing under her breath
when it escaped. "You're supposed to
grab them before they jump out of the
box. Where's my bloody wand?" She
muttered, making a few more futile
swipes after the frog, before casting a
brief glance over her shoulder at
Hermione. "Who are you, by the way?"
Hermione froze.
"No, seriously, you look familiar," the
girl continued, when Hermione kept
silent. "Merlin, this thing is just out of
control!" She shook her head as the frog
kept hopping away. "So anyway, have
we met before? I think I - "
"Immobulus."
The frog immediately went still, and
Hermione let out a sigh of relief when
she saw Theo standing by the doorway
of his room, a wand in his hand. He
looked thoroughly aggravated, but there
was a glimmer of fear in his eyes as he
met Hermione's gaze.
"I thought you were leaving, Natasha,"
he said calmly, striding towards the girl
who smiled brightly at him.
"I was, but then I met your flatmate. I
can't place a finger on where I've seen
her before. Who is she - "
"Her name's Hermione Granger," Theo
returned flatly. He strode towards the
girl quickly and held up his wand to her
temple.
Her eyes widened. "Theo? What are you
-"
"Sorry, Natasha, but you shouldn't have
asked."
A jet of light shot out from the wand and
Hermione watched as the girl's eyes
went momentarily blank for a moment.
Then the girl blinked, looking utterly
dazed and Theo caught her as she
swayed.
He glanced over at Hermione. "I just
have to send her home. I'll be back
soon."
Hermione could only manage a faint
smile, watching with rapt attention as he
went over to the shelves, grabbed
something, and vanished with the girl.
Then the house was silent and
Hermione's head was reeling with the
aftermath of the shock. Thank Merlin for
Theo. She didn't know what she
would've done if he wasn't there. None
of them had actually pre-empted such a
situation, so she was completely taken
unaware by it.
Hermione could still feel her heart
racing, and she took several deep
breaths to calm herself. Then she went
over to pick up the chocolate frog from
under the coffee table, studying it with
amusement. She was still staring at the
frog and contemplating the earlier
situation when Theo returned.
"Don't eat that," his voice startled her
and she jumped, dropping the frog again.
He grinned. "You're fucking jittery,
Hermione. Here," he went over to the
box of chocolate frogs and picked out a
new one for her. "Throw out the old
one."
Hermione set the old frog aside and
carefully opened the new box, making
sure to grab the frog before it got away.
She chewed slowly on the frog while
studying the card in fascination, which
had a portrait of an old man called
Albus Dumbledore on it.
"You remember him?" Theo asked
bluntly, after watching her for a moment
or two.
A frown glossed her forehead and she
looked up at Theo in confusion. "Am I
supposed to?"
He grinned wryly. "He was kind of our
Headmaster back at Hogwarts, only he's
dead now."
"Oh." Hermione felt a faint pang of guilt
for not feeling more distressed about the
fate of Albus Dumbledore, but he was
just a stranger to her. She set the card
aside and looked back up at Theo, only
to see him rubbing his temples, a tired
frown on his forehead. "Is everything
alright?"
"Yeah. Just a bloody hangover, that's
all."
Hermione quickly got up to retrieve a
clean glass and the pot of tea. Setting the
cup down in front of Theo, she poured a
generous amount of tea in and pushed it
towards him.
Theo nursed it between his hands before
taking a quick sip of it and looked
pleasantly surprised. "You made this?"
"Yes."
"It's pretty fucking good."
"Thank you." Hermione watched him for
awhile, wondering if he was going to
take his cup and go back to his room, but
he made no attempt to leave.
"Don't...don't you have to go to - " and
then she didn't quite know what to call it,
because she knew the four Slytherins
worked for Voldemort but it couldn't be
called work if it didn't help anyone but
Voldemort himself.
" - the dark side?" Theo supplied, his
words making Hermione smile. "Yeah,
no. I've got another Death-Eater to cover
for me today. We don't have to go for
patrols or missions so long as we've got
someone to stand in for us."
Hermione frowned in confusion.
"But...wouldn't he notice?"
"Well, he's become a lot more
complacent ever since winning the war."
Hermione's eyes widened at Theo's
casual jab, but he simply smirked.
"Hermione, I work for him but that
doesn't mean I fucking adore him.
Neither does Blaise or Pansy - and
Draco? I think Draco hates him the most.
You know that whole saying - 'keep your
friends close, enemies closer'? The Dark
Lord's got that going for him and he's so
stupid he doesn't even see that his top
Death-Eater's gone rogue ever since the
war began."
Hermione smiled. She hated the idea of
Death-Eaters in general, but somehow
Draco being a Death-Eater gone rogue
wasn't such a bad idea. She worried for
his safety, of course, she always did -
but she couldn't help but think he was
just so clever.
"You're thinking about Draco, aren't
you?" Theo's smirk widened.
And Hermione blushed.
"It's okay, Hermione. Just don't pull all
that love crap that Pansy and Blaise
always does in front of me and I honestly
wouldn't give a shit. Anyway, the Dark
Lord's inner circle has expanded ever
since the war began and we're close to a
hundred over people now - that's
notwithstanding the rest of his army. No
one keeps tabs on us. Only Draco and
some of the other Death-Eaters meet up
with the Dark Lord everyday to discuss
their plans. The rest of us just have to
show up during general meetings."
"So...does that mean you're going to be
here, for the rest of the day?"
"That's right. And you're going to
entertain me."
Her eyebrows shot up. "How?"
"Well, I'll find things that make you blush
- I think that's pretty bloody
entertaining."
Hermione scowled when her cheeks
reddened again. Merlin, if this was the
way Theo was back at Hogwarts, it was
no wonder she hated him.
Theo noticed and laughed. "That's one."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco half thought he was hallucinating

when he returned back home that day,
only to see Hermione sitting at the
kitchen counter with Theo. They had
boxes of chocolate frogs in front of them,
most of which was emptied out, the
wrappers and cards strewn around
carelessly.
Hermione spotted Draco immediately
and smiled brightly. "Hey," she breathed,
climbing down from the chair and going
over to him. Draco tried not to react
when she slotted between his arms and
buried her face against his chest,
because Theo was staring quite
blatantly, a perennially annoying smirk
on his face.
"I had a lot of fun today," Hermione said,
once she'd pulled back from him. But it
didn't escape his notice that she still kept
her fingers latched on his coat. "Theo
taught me how to use Tarantellegra."
Draco shot Theo an unamused look. "Of
course he would."
Theo laughed. "How was work today,
mate?"
"Busy as fuck, no thanks to you," Draco
replied calmly, before heading towards
his room. He didn't have to glance back
to know that Hermione was following
him. "By the way, it's your turn to get
dinner tonight."
"Why is it never your turn?"
"Because I fucking pay for all our
expenses," Draco said, before shutting
the door behind him and Hermione. He
casted wordless muffling and locking
charms on the room before reaching into
his coat pocket and pulling out a brown
box. "This came for you. It's from
Andromeda," he added, when Hermione
looked up at him in surprise.
Hermione took it, a happy smile glossing
her lips as she sat down on the bed and
began to open it. Draco settled down
next to her, watching as she read and
reread and reread several more times the
little slip of paper that was tagged to the
box.

Have a very Merry Christmas,

- A.T.

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard,"

Hermione read out loud, when she
shifted the paper and saw the book
inside. She turned to Draco. "Have you
you read this?"
"No, never," Draco frowned at the book.
It looked awfully similar to those books
he'd read as a child, but he hadn't seen
one of this in ages ever since the war
began. He thought Andromeda's present
to Hermione was odd, to say the least.
At least his present made sense. He
reached into the other pocket of his coat
and retrieved an old photo frame that
Andromeda had sent him.
"Is - is that your mother?" Hermione
asked, as she stared at the blonde haired
woman standing beside Andromeda in
the photograph.
"Yes," Draco felt his chest tighten as he
looked at the picture, so he set it aside
on the bedside table. "You remember
her?"
Hermione frowned and stared at the
picture for several moments longer. "You
look a lot like her," she finally said and
smiled. Then she rested her head against
his shoulder and began to read the book
Andromeda had sent.
Draco thought about Hermione's words
and realised that he could live with that.
He'd much rather be told that he looked
like his mother, than be the splitting
image of the man he had come to loathe
with every fibre of his being.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It all came back sometime in the middle

of the night, and in the middle of a
dream.
Hermione was having another one of her
nightmares, one that didn't quite make
her scream in terror but left a slow,
sinking feeling of dread in her chest. Her
dream proceeded in the usual fashion - a
chorus of Crucios, an eternity of
torturing and a silent scream wedged in
her throat with Draco calling her name
as he searched for her frantically, but she
could never see him.
But this time, the voices of her captors
seemed to change. Their chorus of
Crucios morphed into something else,
into a sentence she had long forgotten
and made her heart still in fear when she
heard it loud and clear in her
subconscious once again -

"Tell us - where are the Deathly

Hallows?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was awoken in the middle of the

night when Hermione's fingers
convulsed between his. He cast a quick
Muffliato just seconds before she began
to thrash around, and he quickly got up
from the chair and settled down next to
her on the bed. Taking her by the
shoulders, he hauled her into sitting
position and cupped her cheeks, ignoring
the blows she rained down on him.
"Granger," his voice was calm. After all,
he'd dealt with this so often that it never
fazed him anymore. "Granger, wake up."
Hermione's eyes slowly focused on him
after several minutes. "Draco?"
"Yeah, it's me."
She let out a haggard sigh of relief and
he held her, letting her bury her face
against his neck and slide her arms
around his waist. "I remember," she
murmured at last, her voice achingly soft
and broken.
"What?"
"I-I remember why I was captured."
Draco stiffened. He pulled back from
Hermione, holding her gently at arm's
length. "What did you say?"
Her smile was faint but trusting, and she
leaned forward to grasp his hands
tightly. "I really do remember. They
asked me - " she took a deep breath,
calming the shudder that seemed to
wreck through her like the aftermath of
an earthquake. "They asked me where
the Deathly Hallows were."
Draco stared at her in confusion.
"What?"
"It - it was in the book. I read it earlier
and I didn't think much of it...but then I
had that nightmare and I remembered,"
she explained, scrambling up to reach
for the book on the bedside table. Draco
immediately summoned his wand to him,
lighting it up with a silent Lumos. He
saw that it was the one Andromeda had
given to Hermione.
"The Tale of Three Brothers," Hermione
began, flipping through the pages
haphazardly and pointing to various
paragraphs. "Three brothers. They met
Death, and Death said they could have
anything they want. The oldest brother -
he wanted a powerful wand that Death
fashioned from an elder tree."
Draco froze.
"The second one wanted a stone that
could bring back the dead. And - and the
third wanted a cloak of invisibility.
These are the Deathly Hallows."
Draco's mind was reeling. "And the
Death-Eaters who captured you wanted
you to tell them where they were?"
"Yes. They call themselves - The
Peverells."
And then Draco, who'd always prided
himself on having a way with words,
found himself completely speechless.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The other three Slytherins were quick to

come out of their respective rooms when
Draco knocked on their doors in the
middle of the night. They had their
wands with them, faces alert with the
knowledge that nothing good ever
happened past midnight and that anything
could happen during a war.
But it was different this time round, and
the three of them were utterly surprised
to see Draco calmly sitting at the kitchen
counter. And even more surprised to see
Hermione in the kitchen boiling a fresh
pot of tea.
"This had better be good," grumbled
Theo, as he sat next to Draco and
promptly placed his head on the table.
Blaise and Pansy sat down opposite
them, looking tired but curious
nonetheless.
"It is," Draco returned shortly. He
waited until Hermione had returned with
the tea and poured out cups for
everyone. Hermione sat on the other side
of Draco, leaning in close as her hand
automatically latched onto his jumper.
"Alright, listen up," Draco started and
paused, reaching over to grab Theo by
the scruff of his neck because the idiot
was actually falling asleep again.
"Granger has something to say."
Hermione's eyes widened when the rest
of them turned to her. "I-I thought you
were going to tell them for me," she said
to Draco, sounding rather alarmed and
overwhelmed all at once.
Draco simply smirked. "No, it's your
story to tell, Granger."
So, amidst shades of blushes and
occasional stammering, Hermione
slowly revealed everything that she had
recalled that night. About the Deathly
Hallows - the wand, the stone and the
cloak - about the Peverells and what
they wanted from her. And when she was
done, everyone was silent.
Hermione swallowed hard and bit her
lip. She could practically see them
internalising her information. Blaise was
thinking hard, she could almost hear the
gears whirring in his head; while Pansy
looked utterly surprised and Theo was
just confused.
"So what you're saying," Blaise broke
the silence at last, "is that all this while,
we've been chasing for leads when the
real lead all along was with Hermione?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "You've been
searching for the Deathly Hallows too?"
"Not the Deathly Hallows," Pansy
corrected her quickly, "the Peverells.
Some days ago, we received a tip-off
that there's a secret organisation within
the Dark Lord's inner circle. They call
themselves the Peverells, so if they're
one and the same, then those are the
same Death-Eaters that captured you.
We've been trying to sniff them out but it
hasn't been easy."
"Why - why would you want to find
them?" Hermione sounded even more
confused now, and Theo began to
chuckle in amusement, only for Draco to
smack him soundly on the head.
"Ow!" Theo glared at his friend, before
grinning at Hermione. "Because,
Hermione, that's what we do. Remember
what I told you about us hating the Dark
Lord? That's kind of part and parcel of
the whole hating campaign."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "What Theo
meant to say was - we're Death-Eaters
gone rogue. We strive to end this war;
that's our ultimate goal. That's the only
reason why we're still here and why we
struggle so hard to stay alive."
"You guys - " Hermione still seemed
rather unsure, "do you guys help the
Order?"
"No." The response was immediate and
came from all four of the Slytherins, and
both Theo and Draco looked somewhat
disgusted.
"No," Pansy repeated, softer this time.
She smiled at Hermione, who seemed
rather taken aback by the vehemence of
their response. "We don't help the Order.
Because the Order is in a pretty bad
shape - "
"More like fucked-up - "
" - thanks for your input, Theo," Pansy
scowled at him and turned back to
Hermione. "The Order isn't even
equipped to fight one-tenth of the Dark
Lord's army, especially since the Dark
Lord's been recruiting so much over the
years. They're practically in pieces. So
as for us, we simply get information.
That's what all the phials are for. We get
information about the Order and prevent
it from ever reaching the Dark Lord. So,
for instance, if we chance upon a traitor
of the Order going over to the Dark
Lord's side, we stop him, extract his
memories and kill him right after," she
finished bluntly.
"Similarly," Blaise chimed in, grinning
when Hermione's mouth fell open in
abject horror, "if we find a Death-Eater
who isn't loyal to the Dark Lord, we
extract his memories, show it to the Dark
Lord and let the Dark Lord kill the
traitor off himself. That's called thinning
out the army, so we prevent the Dark
Lord's army from growing. It's all very
bloody and brutal, really."
"You couldn't have put it in a fucking
nicer way?" Draco growled at Blaise,
glancing over at Hermione, who was
clutching the sleeve of his jumper tightly.
He'd been silent all this while, leaving
the explanation up to the rest of them, but
he wondered how Hermione would react
if she knew that this, all of this, was a
plan he'd masterminded.
"Sorry," Blaise shrugged apologetically
at her.
"It's fine," Hermione replied, after a
moment's pause. Then she smiled faintly.
"There just seems to be a lot of - killing,
though."
Theo chuckled. "It's a fucking war,
Hermione, and we're Death-Eaters. It's
either kill or be killed."
"Besides, we just want the war to end,"
Pansy added. "We've been living on the
edge for three years and we'd rather the
war not last for another three."
Hermione was silent for a long moment.
"Right," she said at last, and her voice
was barely audible. Her fingers
tightened around Draco's jumper and she
took a deep breath. "And this - this is the
only way the war can end?"
The other three looked at Draco, who
simply shrugged. "It's the only way we
know how to end the war, Granger."
"I see," Hermione breathed, and looked
directly at Draco with a tiny smile
playing on her lips. "So - can I help?"
19 | crucio

19
cr uci o
Torture.

A prolonged, stunned silence followed

in the wake of Hermione's words, and
she swallowed uncomfortably,
wondering if she'd been far too
presumptuous. Perhaps they didn't want
her to help. After all, she was just
beginning to learn magic all over again
and her skills were nothing compared to
theirs.

"Granger," Draco's voice broke the

tensed silence. His face was an
expression of indifference, and his silver
eyes were closed-off. She couldn't tell
what he was thinking. "I need a word
with you."
He stood up abruptly and headed back
into his room. After a moment's pause,
Hermione followed, leaving the three
other Slytherins behind.
Theo let out a chuckle when Hermione
shut the door after her. "You think they're
going to come back out?"
"Probably not," Blaise said, and
yawned. He grabbed his wand, directing
the emptied mugs over to the sink before
standing up. "We should go back to
sleep. If we can."
"Night, Theo," Pansy called, as the three
of them went back to their rooms - she
and Blaise to their shared one, and Theo
to his.
"Dream of me, Pansy."
"You wish."
"Better yet - dream of me and Blaise.
That'd be one hell of a dream, huh?"
"Goodnight, Theo."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Hermione was apprehensive. She shut
the door behind her carefully and went
over to Draco, gingerly sitting down on
the bed next to him. He was unnervingly
silent, the same sort of distant attitude he
had when he tried to keep his distance
from her in the past.
"You're not going to be a part of this,"
Draco said, after awhile. His voice was
tight and choked. "It's too big a risk,
Granger."
"I know that," Hermione replied calmly.
"You are aware of the risks the four of us
take every single bloody day, aren't
you?"
"Yes - "
"No, you're not. We carry out missions
and patrols with the other Death-Eaters
every day, not knowing when one of
them might find out that we've gone
rogue and hit us in the back with a
killing curse. I stay by the Dark Lord's
side, every single bloody day, not
knowing when my skill at Occlumency
would fail me and the Dark Lord would
navigate his way through my mind in a
second and know that I'm a traitor."
Hermione hadn't thought of it this way,
because she hadn't known. But now she
did - and frankly, it only made her
resolve strengthen. "But - you still do it,"
she murmured softly, "you still stay by
his side. For all these years."
He didn't answer.
And she took that as a sign to continue.
Inching closer, she reached for his hand
and intertwined her fingers with his. Her
hand seemed almost fragile in his grasp,
but she felt safe, in spite of all that he
had just said.
"Which is why I'd like to help,"
Hermione said, and his head jerked up,
eyes meeting hers. She could see the
sliver of intense fear reflected in them,
of sheer desperation, and it was almost
crushing. "I don't care much for this
war...it's not my fight any longer, hasn't
been for quite awhile now. But, if ending
the war would mean that Theo and
Blaise and Pansy and you are all safe,
then I - I think it's a fight I'd like to be a
part of."
Draco let out a sigh that seemed
exhausted and leaned forward to bury
his face in his hands. She didn't think he
ever sounded this tired before. Like all
the three years of sleepless nights had
come rushing back all at once and
everything was just physically crushing.
When he spoke, his voice was rough and
unsteady. "I just can't fucking lose you
again, Granger."
Hermione reached over to pull his hands
away from his face. And she saw the
weary lines on his face now, the tired
frown and the hard line of his lips and
the clenching of the jaw. Grasping his
hands firmly between hers, she pressed a
soft kiss to his knuckles.
"I can't lose you again either," she
whispered, and smiled. "So let me fight
your war."
He was silent for what seemed like
forever. Then he sighed again and
Hermione smiled because it was a sigh
of resignation.
Draco summoned his wand. "Hold still,"
he murmured, lifting his wand to her
forehead. When she looked up at him in
surprise, he hastened to explain,
"memory locks. So even if someone uses
Legilimency on you, they won't find out
what you know. Just in case," he added,
but Hermione heard the implications of
his words loud and clear.
Just in case we fail.
Just in case you get captured again.
Just in case I lose you.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The screams of the tortured prisoners

could be heard all the way from the
basement of the Malfoy Manor. It was
just one of those daily meetings Draco
had with the Dark Lord and several
other esteemed Death-Eaters, but Draco
loathed those meetings more than ever,
because he always felt completely
outnumbered without Theo, Pansy and
Blaise in the same room.
"What's taking Yaxley so long?"
Bellatrix was looking more impatient by
the minute as she heard the screams. She
was clutching her wand with
anticipation, and Draco knew that she
was positively itching to go down to the
basement and torture the prisoners
herself.
"Patience, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord
said, but there was a tick in his jaw and
he seemed rather aggravated.
Amycus Carrow leaned forward with an
earnest expression on his face. "My lord,
these prisoners are trained to withstand
the Cruciatus. It would take awhile
before they give up information worth
something - "
"Or," Draco interrupted bluntly, "Yaxley
could be doing a shite job at torturing
them."
"Yaxley knows how to use the Cruciatus
-"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Obviously. But
the extent of pain inflicted on a victim is
proportional to how much you want to
hurt them. We've been waiting for close
to an hour now - seems like Yaxley's
being soft about it."
"You bloody little - "
"That's quite enough, Amycus," the Dark
Lord cut in, "it seems like Draco's right.
It's time to go down to the basement and
see what Yaxley's up to."
He stood up and the rest of the Death-
Eaters followed in an orderly fashion.
Draco made sure to smirk at Amycus,
just to rub the Dark Lord's blatant
favouritism in the man's face. Frankly,
what he really wanted to do was to hit
Amycus with countless of Crucios, as
payback for what he'd done to
Hermione. Draco made a mental note to
do that when the time was right. Revenge
was going to be so sweet.
They soon found Yaxley in the dungeons,
standing in front of a group of prisoners,
his wand tight in hand. The prisoners
were in a bloodied, decrepit state, but
none seemed on the brink of insanity or
death, and Draco immediately knew that
Yaxley had been torturing them for
something else altogether.
The Deathly Hallows.
Thanks to Hermione, things were so
much clearer now.
Yaxley turned when he heard footsteps,
his face falling when he saw the grim
expression on the Dark Lord's face. "M-
my lord," he stammered, but the Dark
Lord ignored him, turning instead to the
other Death-Eaters.
"Bellatrix," the Dark Lord directed, in
his deathly calm manner that always sent
a shiver down Draco's spine. "Take over
the interrogation, please."
Bellatrix grinned and stepped up,
shoving Yaxley aside roughly. Her long,
bony fingers were wrapped around her
wand.
"And Draco?"
"Yes, my lord?"
"For every Cruciatus that Bellatrix uses
on the prisoners, I'd like you to use it on
Yaxley over here."
Yaxley paled. And Draco smirked. "With
pleasure, my lord."
"You may begin."
Bellatrix promptly hurled a Cruciatus at
one of the prisoners, cackling with glee
when the victim screamed, this time far
louder than all the screams they'd heard
over the past hour.
Draco didn't even flinch. And perhaps
Bellatrix was right - maybe he was
somewhat like her, because he was just
as good as she was in
compartmentalising his emotions and
blocking out every good sentiment he
had in him.
So he didn't even feel a single ounce of
guilt when he stepped forward and
pointed his wand directly at Yaxley. He
thought of Hermione and all the scars on
her skin and all the nights she woke up
screaming and all the tears she had shed.
This wasn't a show for the Dark Lord.
His wand was poised to torture and it
was going to fucking hurt.
"Crucio."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was pleased to find Theo

sitting at the kitchen counter when she
left the room that afternoon. He was
having lunch and when he spotted her, he
nodded amicably. "Afternoon, Red."
Hermione blinked, pausing briefly in her
tracks. "What - what did you just call
me?"
"Red," Theo repeated, and grinned. "It's
far shorter than actually calling you
Hermione, and Draco would probably
hit me if I called you Frizzy-Haired
Freak, so I'm settling for Red - because
you blush. A hell lot."
Hermione wondered if the old version of
herself would've taken offense to Theo's
straightforward mannerism, but she was
more amused than anything now. She
smiled and settled down on the stool
opposite him at the counter. Theo
immediately pushed an unopened carton
of food over to her and she eagerly
opened it.
"Aren't you going to work?"
"I'm done with the morning patrol," Theo
spoke with his mouth full. Hermione
thought it looked vaguely familiar but
she couldn't remember where she'd seen
it before. It definitely didn't come from
Draco, who had impeccable manners
when eating. "There's another in the
afternoon and later at night."
Hermione once again thought her
decision to join in the fight was
worthwhile. She didn't want Theo to go
on patrols or see him look this tired. All
four of the Slytherins seemed exhausted
most of the time and she knew perfectly
why. The war had forced them into
growing up far too soon, and sometimes
it felt like they were all over a hundred
years old. They were just that tired.
And so Hermione thought the war
needed to end so that maybe, just maybe,
they could finally get that sorely-needed
rest.
"By the way," Theo was saying, his
voice breaking into her thoughts. "Draco
told us this morning that you were
joining 17-65. He's paranoid about it but
I think it'll be fun."
Hermione frowned in confusion. "What's
17-65?"
"Well, the four of us - sorry, five,
including you - are in a fucking cool top-
secret group, aren't we? So we
obviously needed a fucking cool top-
secret name. To be honest, I wanted to
call us The Anti-Potters because, well,
we're not bloody losers like him."
Hermione laughed and Theo grinned
back, clearly pleased by her reaction.
"But Draco picked 17-65 instead which,
by the way, are coordinates of the actual
constellation Draco. So he basically
named the group after himself, that
bloody narcissist."
Hermione laughed again, then paused as
she thought it over. The numbers seemed
awfully familiar. "Wait," she said,
suddenly remembering, "17-65...that
number that was part of the incantation. I
used that to light the phial to call for
help."
"Yeah," Theo nodded. "We use that
number as part of the Protean charm. It's
how we contact each other."
Hermione fingers automatically went to
the chain around her neck, clutching the
two phials that hung at the bottom. It was
clever. The charm had practically saved
her life. Well, Theo did, to be exact; but
the charm really helped too.
"You know what we should do?" Theo
suddenly said, and pushed his carton of
food aside. "We could train you up."
"What?"
"I could teach you how to duel. It'll
come in handy, especially now that
you're one of us," Theo explained and
grinned. "I don't like to brag - well,
actually, I do - but I'm better than Blaise
and Pansy at duelling. Of course,
Draco's still way better. He's the one
who taught me, after all."
"He - he trained you?"
"Yeah, back when I first started out as a
Death-Eater. If I weren't for him, I
would've fucked up on a lot of
missions." Theo stood up and picked up
his wand. "But enough about that
wanker, we'll train you now. It'll be fun,
Red. Come on."
Hermione smiled and got up eagerly. "I
have to get my wand," she told him,
rushing hastily back into Draco's room.
She found the spare wand that Draco had
given her on the dresser and came back
out.
Theo was already shifting various
pieces of furniture aside with his wand
to clear a space in the living room.
When he was done, he stood a fair
distance away from Hermione.
"Alright. I'm going to teach you a fairly
simple spell. It's called the Knockback
jinx. Basically, when you fire at me, it
knocks me over, or back - depending on
how steady I am on my feet and how
strong the spell is."
Hermione nodded. Having been taught
by both Blaise and now Theo, she
thought that they sounded far more
laidback than Draco, who tended to be
entirely focused and professional when
teaching her.
"You move your wand like this," Theo
did a brief demonstration, which
Hermione immediately mimicked. "And
say Flipendo."
"Flipendo," she repeated, saying it a few
more times under her breath to memorise
it.
"Right. I'll do it first." Theo summoned a
green apple from the fruit basket in the
kitchen. He took several steps away
from Hermione, and threw the apple
upwards, casting the spell quickly when
it was still in mid-air.
"Flipendo."
Immediately, the apple burst into tiny
fragments that scattered across the walls
and floor. Theo laughed. "Oh, well,
Blaise'll clean that up. Now your turn,
Red. No apples this time. Aim it right at
me."
Hermione's mouth fell open in horror.
"I'm not going to hurt you!"
"You wouldn't. That's just what the spell
does to small objects. But it'll just knock
me off my feet; probably send me
sprawling on the ground. It's nothing I
can't handle," Theo assured her, and
dropped his wand. "Go ahead."
Hermione took a deep breath. Her wand
shook in her hand and she felt guilt kick
in at the mere thought of possibly hurting
Theo. "Fli-flipendo."
Nothing happened.
"Try it again."
"Flipendo."
A faint jet of light streaked out this time,
but it didn't even reach him, let alone hit
him. And Hermione was left shaking at
the thought of the spell heading straight
for Theo. It was a thought that terrified
her.
Theo frowned. "You have to want to
knock me back, Red."
"That's the thing - I don't want to!"
"You wouldn't hurt me."
"But I could," Hermione insisted, her
eyes downcast. "I'm afraid - I'm afraid
no good at this. Sorry, Theo."
"S'alright."
Theo watched as Hermione sighed and
went back to the kitchen counter, setting
her wand aside firmly. He followed,
placing his wand on the other side and
picking up his carton of food again.
"You know," he began, conversationally,
just to break the silence. "You used to be
pretty good at duelling back during
Hogwarts days."
Hermione was surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. There was that one time - in our
second year, I think, when you and
Millicent Bulstrode had to duel. You
kept hitting her with the disarming spell
until she lost her temper and put you in a
headlock and the both of you were
rolling on the floor screaming at each
other."
Hermione was appalled. "Did I hurt
her?" She asked, in concern.
Theo shook his head. "Hardly. But I've
got to admit, that's one hot lesson I'll
never be able to forget," he added, with
an amused chuckle.
And when Hermione began to laugh,
Theo tried to crack more stupid jokes,
because hearing Hermione Granger
laugh was the only way he could forget
that this was a war, and that Millicent
Bulstrode was now dead.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Crucio."
Draco watched impassively as Yaxley
convulsed on the floor again. As with all
the other Cruciatus curses Draco had
shot at him, Yaxley remained silent.
Draco wasn't surprised. As Death-
Eaters, they were frequently punished if
they failed - either by the Dark Lord or
by each other; and had long ago learnt
that the more readily they accepted their
punishment, the quicker it was over for
them.
Yaxley quietly spat out a mouthful of
blood and glared at Draco. His glare
was cold and deadly enough to kill, but
Draco being Draco didn't even turn a
hair.
"Crucio."
Bellatrix's prisoner looked far worse
than Yaxley did. And Draco knew it was
because Bellatrix was sadistic enough
and practically thrived on making her
enemies suffer. The prisoner had
screamed himself hoarse about four
Crucios ago, and was now a quivering
mess of blood, sweat and vomit.
"Well?" Bellatrix smirked down at him.
"Still nothing?"
He whimpered.
"Alright then," Bellatrix lifted her wand
and aimed it at him, casting a sideway
glance at Draco, who aimed his wand at
Yaxley. "Cru - "
"Wait!"
One of the prisoners broke the silence,
and Bellatrix lowered her wand. The
prisoner who had spoke was a younger
man, barely a few years older than
Draco himself. He stared up at the
Death-Eaters with barely concealed
terror.
"Please don't - "
The one whom Bellatrix had been
torturing immediately let out a cry.
"Don't say anything! Don't - " but the
words froze on his lips and his eyes
went unblinking as the Dark Lord shot
the killing curse at him.
The place was deathly silent as the Dark
Lord looked directly at the other
prisoner with his cold, calculating eyes.
"Proceed."
The man kept silent. A nod from the
Dark Lord made Bellatrix lift her wand
again, aiming it at him this time.
"Crucio."
He screamed as the curse hit him and
broke immediately. "We - we were going
to join the Order," the man gasped.
"Neville Longbottom has been
recruiting."
Draco froze.
And the silence that followed was
terrifying.
"The Order has not been active ever
since the war has begun," the Dark Lord
said at last, his eyes narrowing into slits,
but there was a hint of uncertainty in his
voice. He turned to Draco, who tried to
look startled. "Draco?"
"This is the first time I'm hearing about
it, my lord."
"Bellatrix?" The Dark Lord looked over
at the witch, who seemed equally as
confused. So did the other Death-Eaters.
So he looked back at the prisoner. "Is
there anything else?"
"Promise you'll let us go if I tell you."
The Dark Lord laughed. It was a
distorted, eerie sound that made a shiver
gloss down Draco's spine. "Bellatrix?"
Bellatrix smirked and hurled another
Cruciatus at the man. And mere seconds
later, he was coughing up blood, holding
up a hand as a signal for Bellatrix to
stop. "They're - they're at the Forbidden
Forest."
Draco's jaw clenched at his revelation.
He wanted to kill the man for breaking
so easily and for letting the Dark Lord
know what he had spent three years
trying to so hard to conceal.
"They have two other camps," the man
hastily added, Draco all the while
screaming at him silently - stop talking,
stop talking, stop talking. "But we don't
know where they're located at."
The Dark Lord nodded faintly, glancing
over his shoulder at Dolohov. "Take the
other prisoners away. The rest of you -
follow me, we have certain things to
discuss. And Draco?"
"My lord?"
"Dispose of our informant."
The man visibly paled and flew into a
frenzy of begging and pleading for his
life as the Dark Lord turned to leave.
Draco waited until Dolohov had taken
the other prisoners away and the rest of
the Death-Eaters had left. His mind
momentarily drifted to Hermione, and he
remembered how he had seen Bellatrix
torture her a long time ago. Hermione
had kept her mouth shut through it all.
And just like that, Draco saw red.
It wasn't the most righteous sort of rage,
because Draco subconsciously knew that
he himself was a coward. He'd always
been one. But it made him furious that all
of his, Blaise's, Pansy's and Theo's work
had been for nothing. All smashed into
fragments, just like that. It was their one
job, their one job - to keep the Dark
Lord from knowing about the Order. And
this man had just given it away so easily.
So when it was just the two of them -
just him and the traitor, Draco leaned
down and gripped the man by the
neckline of his shirt. "What the fuck was
that?" Draco hissed furiously, keeping
his voice low enough for only the man to
hear. "You couldn't have kept your mouth
shut through two Crucios?"
"I-I - "
The man seemed incapable of speaking
coherently through his tears, and Draco
flung him away. "You disgust me," Draco
spat, before standing up. He used a quick
Legilimency on the man and found that
he had, indeed, been telling the truth -
Neville Longbottom was recruiting for
the Order.
The Order was finally rising up from the
ashes again and the Dark Lord was going
to destroy it before anything could
happen. Just that thought alone made
Draco livid enough to kill.
And so he did.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco returned in a volatile mood that

night. He didn't acknowledge the other
three Slytherins in the living room.
Instead, he strode quickly to his own
room, slamming the door shut behind
him.
Hermione glanced up from the book she
was reading, but one look at the
thunderous look on Draco's face and her
smile faded. "Draco, what's wrong?"
"Just give me a minute, Granger," he
returned shortly, and grabbed the
telephone on the bedside table, dragging
it towards the bathroom. Once inside, he
sealed the door shut with locks and
silencing charms, before punching in
Andromeda's number.
After three rings, she picked up.
"Password, please?"
"Dromeda, it's me."
"Draco?" She seemed pleasantly
surprised. "How are - "
He hastily cut in before she could speak
any further. "Dromeda, there's no time
for niceties. The Dark Lord knows about
the Order."
There was a gasp on her end, but she
recovered fairly quickly. "How?"
"One of the bloody prisoners told him.
The Dark Lord also knows about
Neville and how he's recruiting. Did you
know anything about that?"
"Not at all," he could hear her startled
voice on the other end. "I thought the
Order was just trying to help people, I
didn't know they were planning on
actually fighting."
This wasn't a surprise to Draco.
Andromeda didn't know much and she
was just as much a middleman in this as
he was. They were all playing such a
dangerous game here, never knowing
when everything could explode in their
faces.
And now Hermione was involved.
Draco couldn't think of a worst time to
involve her like the present.
He gripped the phone tighter. "The Dark
Lord is planning on launching an attack
on any of the bases. I don't know the
exact details of it and it might not even
involve me, so send word to the Order
to keep their eyes peeled at all times."
"I'll do what I can, Draco."
"And another thing," Draco shut his eyes
briefly, wondering if he was going
bloody mad for even entertaining this
idea. But it had slipped into his mind
when Hermione had asked to fight
alongside them, and he couldn't quite
shake it ever since.
"Do you know where Hermione's wand
is?"
20 | evanesco

20
evanes co
Vanishes things.

Hermione paced outside the bathroom,

her hands twisting nervously as she
worried about Draco. She hadn't seen
him this worked up since that one time
when she found him in the bathroom with
the broken glass, and she was worried
that he'd be equally as wrecked as he
was that night.
After what seemed like forever, the door
opened with a click and Draco stepped
out with the telephone in his hands. His
face was impassive as he regarded her,
but his posture was rigid. "What're you
doing, Granger?"
"I-I was worried about you," Hermione
confessed honestly. She followed him as
he went back to the bedside table to set
the phone down, before shrugging out of
his suit jacket. "Is everything alright?"
She reached out to touch his arm but he
flinched away as though she was an open
flame. "Don't," his voice was a low,
strangled sound that made a shiver gloss
her spine. His silver eyes met hers. "I - "
he trailed off, unable to say anymore and
showed her his hands instead.
There was no mistaking the rust-
coloured stains that tainted his pale skin.
Hermione briefly wondered whose
blood it was, then realised that she just
needed to be grateful that it wasn't his.
She reached over to the table for her
wand and held it over his hands,
remembering a spell that Blaise had
taught her several days ago.
"Scourgify."
The stains vanished from his hands and
she took a step forward, but he fended
her away. "It's not enough, I just - " he
swallowed. "I just need to fucking get it
all off."
But the resignation in his voice was
clear as crystal and Hermione knew
what he really meant. That some
bloodstains were too permanent to ever
be scrubbed clean or Scourgified away.
They were just as permanent as her own
scars and Hermione thought that in that
sense, she could understand how Draco
felt. She wanted her own scars gone just
as much as he wanted the blood gone.
So Hermione didn't stop him this time.
She watched silently as Draco retrieved
a fresh set of clothes from the closet and
headed for the bathroom. It took him a
good fifteen minutes before he emerged
and he frowned when he saw her sitting
in his chair.
"Granger - "
"You need the bed - more than I do
tonight," Hermione told him quickly,
before he could say anything else. She
went over to him, tugging on his arm
when he refused to budge and pulling
him over to the bed.
"For fuck's sake, Granger - "
"I'll be fine," she shushed him. He was
surprisingly compliant despite his verbal
protests, and he let her push him down
onto the bed, watching her with an
inexplicable gaze as she drew the covers
over him gently.
She couldn't help but brush his hair out
of his eyes with a few delicate fingers,
before letting her palm rest softly against
his cheek. "I'll get a sleeping draught
from the kitchen."
She began to pull away, but his fingers
flew up to latch around her wrist,
holding her hand still against his cheek
before she could. "Don't go," he
murmured, and there was a sliver of
vulnerability as he stared up at her that
made her chest tighten painfully.
Merlin, there were times when she
forgot that he was just twenty-one. And
that the war had made him just as lost
and vulnerable as she was.
"Of course," she whispered, and leaned
forward to press her lips gently against
his forehead. Then she pulled back,
settling down in his chair and holding
his hand tightly, glad that she could be
the stronger one for once.
"Goodnight, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco awoke to the sounds of arbitrary

explosions - not the loud, devastating
kind, but more along the lines of some
objects being blasted to bits.
"She takes a swing," he heard a familiar
voice say from outside. Theo. "And will
he hit it...? Yes! He hits it!"
Theo's laughter was mingled with
another feminine one that sounded
remarkably like Hermione's. And, after a
brief glance over at his empty chair,
Draco realised that it was indeed
Hermione. Draco pushed himself up
from the bed, running a distracted hand
through his hair as he made his way out
of the room.
His eyes widened when he saw that the
furniture was all shifted to the corner,
with Theo and Hermione standing on
opposite ends of the room. Hermione
had a baseball bat in hand and a basket
of apples by her feet, while Theo was
holding out his wand. And the walls,
floor and ceiling of the living room were
stained with what seemed like apple
bits.
"She's going to pitch again," Theo was
saying, completely oblivious to Draco's
presence. "And he's getting ready. Are
you ready?" Theo asked Hermione, as
she picked up another apple.
Hermione smiled and swung the bat
backwards. "Ready."
In spite of himself, Draco couldn't help
but be amused by Hermione's
enthusiasm. He had no idea what the hell
they were doing, but this was one of the
rare few times he'd seen her so excited
about something.
Theo held out his wand. "Okay, pitch it."
Hermione threw up the apple and took a
swing at it in mid-air. A flash of light
streaked out from Theo's wand, one that
Draco immediately deduced was the
Knockback jinx, presumably to blow the
apple to bits.
Quick as thought, Draco held out his
hand and summoned the apple silently to
him, smirking when both Theo and
Hermione looked visibly surprised and
confused. Then they turned to him
simultaneously, Hermione smiling wider
when she saw him, while Theo looked
sheepish.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
Draco asked dryly, taking a generous
bite out of the apple. He tried to ignore
the fact that his heart practically raced as
Hermione walked over to him quickly,
wrapping her arms around his waist in a
brief hug before pulling back, her eyes
bright and happy.
Theo shrugged. "I'm teaching her the
Knockback jinx."
"By trashing the room?"
"Blaise'll clean it."
"No," Draco gave him a flat look. Blaise
was the responsible one while Theo was
often known for making horrible messes,
but Draco wasn't going to let Blaise
clean up after Theo all the time. "You're
going to clean it."
Theo gave a loud, dramatic groan. "Aw,
don't piss on my parade, mate. I was just
teaching Hermione how to fight now that
she's a part of 17-65."
Draco mentally berated himself for not
having thought of this earlier. He was
just so concerned for Hermione's safety
that he hadn't even thought of letting her
into any fights. And Theo, who was
generally the most oblivious of the lot,
had actually thought of preparing
Hermione, just in case.
He glanced down at Hermione, who had
now taken his half-eaten apple and
taking small but hearty bites out of it.
"How's it working out so far?"
Hermione let out a tiny but audible sigh.
"I'm not so good at it."
"Not so good? Please. Red is shite at it,"
Theo said bluntly. Draco's eyebrows
shot up at the nickname but pushed his
curiosity aside to appease at a later date,
and looked at Hermione, who hardly
seemed offended by what Theo had said.
"She can't even bring herself to hurt a
fly."
"Why would I want to hurt a fly?"
Hermione asked, looking quite appalled.
"Because flies are annoying, they - "
"Shut up for a minute, Theo," Draco cut
in, as a sudden idea came to him. He
thought about the night he'd returned
home with the sprained ankle, and the
night he'd returned with a broken nose.
He remembered the light in Hermione's
eyes and the steadiness her hands and the
alertness of her mind.
And everything fell into place.
Aware that Hermione and Theo were
watching him with curious eyes, Draco
crossed the room and plucked the wand
neatly out of Theo's hand. Then he
pointed it at his own arm, the one that
didn't have the Dark Mark scarred on it,
and cast a quick, half-hearted Stinging
hex on his skin.
The pain that came was immediate and
scorching, drowning out the horrified
gasps that came from Theo and
Hermione. But it wasn't something that
Draco couldn't handle. This sort of pain
was second nature - sometimes, physical
pain was better than other kinds of pain -
so he ignored it and turned to the matter
at hand.
"Granger," he turned to Hermione, who
was deathly pale and was already
heading towards him. "Find your wand."
He didn't have to ask twice. Hermione
ran back into their room without a
second thought. Theo took a step
forward, prepared to heal the wound
himself, but Draco stopped him.
"Teach her how to heal me," he told
Theo calmly.
If Hermione Granger couldn't fight, then
she sure as hell could heal. It made
sense in a time like this, where fixing
wounds was just as important as
inflicting them, and perhaps even more
important, because it was the only way
they could stay alive to end the war.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was glad to hear Blaise and

Pansy return some afternoons later. Theo
and Draco were out on a mission and
she had been worrying herself sick about
them, so having Blaise and Pansy around
as company was always a lovely
distraction. She watched as the two
Slytherins staggered into the kitchen with
their arms full of paper bags, wanting to
help but not certain if they'd let her.
"Hey, Hermione," Blaise spotted her
peeking at them in the corner and smiled
widely. Hermione shyly headed over to
them, pausing uncertainly by the kitchen
counter.
Pansy dropped the bags down on the
kitchen counter and drew out a parcel
from one of the bags. "This came for
you. We found it at the doorstep."
Hermione eagerly took it and smoothed
out the wrapper, unaware of Blaise's and
Pansy's curious gazes on her.
"Who's it from?" asked Blaise at last,
when the curiosity was simply too much
to bear. He'd never seen a package come
for any of them and left at the doorstep
before. It made him wonder if Hermione
could secretly be in contact with one of
her old friends.
"Oh," a tiny smile flitted across
Hermione's face briefly as she hugged
the parcel to her chest. "No one. It - it's
nothing to worry about."
Then she disappeared back into Draco's
room again, leaving Pansy and Blaise
staring after her, completely mystified.
Pansy finally shook her head. "Am I the
only one who's dying to use Legilimency
on her again?"
Blaise chuckled as he rearranged the
groceries on the shelves with his wand.
"You and me both, baby."
Pansy watched him briefly for a few
seconds, before her lips curled in an
impish grin. "You're going to be at home
all day, right?" She asked, her voice
dipping several notches into her
signature, sultry one. Walking over to
Blaise, she wrapped her arms around
him from behind and pressed a quick
kiss to the nape of his neck. "Because I
can get Maisie to cover for me."
Blaise shot her an amused glance over
his shoulder. "Sorry, baby, but I'm afraid
I have to spend the rest of the afternoon
with Hermione."
"I know I should be jealous when you
say that, but frankly, the idea of you and
Hermione going at it kind of turns me
on."
"How about me, Hermione and Draco?"
"Even better," Pansy smirked wickedly.
"And Theo can be standing in the corner
handing out mints or something."
Blaise snorted a laugh. He'd long since
understood Pansy's odd kinks and found
it nothing but entertaining, even back
during their Hogwarts' days when they
were just friends. "Actually, I'm
supposed to be teaching Hermione how
to brew potions. Draco's orders."
Pansy rolled her eyes and let out a droll
sigh. "Fine. I'll let Hermione know. I'll
probably just get Maisie to cover for me
anyway, it'll probably be fun to watch
you two blow up the kitchen."
Blaise glared at her indignantly. "Two
galleons says we wouldn't."
"Make it sexual favours and you're on,
baby."
Yes, that sounded far better than some
stupid money. "Deal."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco and Theo were on one of the most

difficult missions they ever had to
undertake and the funny thing was that it
wasn't even for the Dark Lord. In fact, it
was just for Hermione Granger. After
Andromeda had told Draco about the
whereabouts of Hermione's wand, Draco
had taken it upon himself to get it back
for her.
And Theo, like the insatiable git that he
was, decided it was going to be fun to
tag along.
So the two ventured into one of the
makeshift bases belonging to the Order,
and had placed themselves under
disillusionment charms just in case. But
three minutes in the base and Draco was
fast realising that there was no need to.
The place was pathetically dilapidated
and empty, save for a house-elf they saw
in one of the rooms and a hospital wing
with six injured people.
And this was what the Order thought
could end the fucking war?
Draco almost smirked with bitterness.
He sure as hell hoped that the other
bases were in far better shape.
"Hey," the wary surprise in Theo's voice
made Draco stiffen abruptly. Theo
pulled Draco to a halt just before they
rounded the next corner. "Isn't that one of
the new initiates?"
Draco's eyes scanned the surroundings
briefly, before landing on a sole figure
lurking in the corridor a good distance
away. Immediately, Draco knew who he
was - Johnny Martins, one of the new
Death-Eaters that had just joined the
Dark Lord's inner circle.
"What's he doing here?" Theo asked
quietly.
Draco didn't know. But he did know that
Johnny Martins was either a traitor to the
Dark Lord or to the Order and he was
going to find out which. "You go find
Hermione's wand," he directed Theo,
"it's somewhere in the basement. I'll trail
Martins."
"Got it. By the way, can the wand be my
gift to Hermione for that stupid
Christmas thing we're celebrating?"
Draco automatically scowled; glad that
Theo couldn't see him because of the
Disillusionment charm. He'd risked
practically everything to retrieve
Hermione's wand just so he could give it
back to her for Christmas, and now Theo
was going to take credit for it.
"Fine," Draco growled at last, deciding
that he'd probably have to think of
something else, something better to give
Hermione, and that was unlikely because
the wand was about the best thing he
could think of. "I'll meet you at the back
door in five minutes, come find me here
if I'm not there. Be careful and don't
fucking die."
"Always so optimistic," Theo
deadpanned, before heading off in the
opposite direction.
Once Draco had made sure that no one
else was nearby, he began to trail after
Johnny, frowning when he saw the
Death-Eater slip into one of the corner
rooms in the east wing. It was a room
that was intricately sealed with magical
locks, and Draco watched as Johnny
undid them one by one before heading
inside.
Johnny emerged several minutes later; a
thick, brown-coloured fabric tucked
neatly under his arm. Draco trailed
Johnny as he headed back down the
corridor again and down the stairwell. It
wasn't until Johnny reached into his coat
pocket and withdrew a Portkey that
Draco stepped out of the shadows and
removed the disillusionment charm on
himself, realising that this was the most
opportune moment to catch Johnny
before he portkeyed the hell out of there.
The moment Johnny saw Draco, he froze
and visibly paled. His grip loosened on
the Portkey and Draco immediately took
the opportunity to snatch it out of
Johnny's grasp.
"Didn't expect to see you here, Martins,"
Draco began conversationally, ignoring
the way the other Death-Eater looked
shiftily around. "So why're you here?"
Johnny glared, holding out his wand
protectively in front of him. "None of
your business, Malfoy."
"So you're not going to tell me?"
Johnny aimed his wand to kill, but Draco
knew what spell was coming out of it
before he even opened his mouth.
"Avada - "
"Too fucking slow," Draco hit him with a
silencing charm, followed by a quick
body-binding curse. "Fine. I'll find out
myself."
Johnny was frozen in spot as Draco used
Legilimency on him. There were times
when Draco hated this spell more than
any other. Because there was something
lethal about knowing, something
effectively toxic about it that obliterated
ignorance and naïveté. And at a time like
this, when all everyone heard about was
either danger or death, sometimes
ignorance was bliss. Draco,
unfortunately, could never have that.
So when he had finally viewed Johnny's
memories, Draco fell a step back. He
tugged the cloth firmly away from
Johnny's grasp and lowered the wand
from Johnny's forehead to just above his
heart.
"Really sorry it has to end this way,
Martins," Draco said calmly. He swore
he could almost see the flicker of sheer
terror in Johnny's frozen eyes. Just
another shade of terror that would haunt
him for the rest of his life. "Avada
Kedavra."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In many ways, Hermione still couldn't

wrap her head around the fact that her
one-time enemies were now her closest
friends, and that they were the only ones
who had done their utmost to help her.
Blaise had spent the entire afternoon
teaching her how to brew potions, and
she was glad that Draco had realised she
was more suited to healing than fighting.
It was a war but, well, Hermione often
felt like all the fight had gone out of her.
"I think I know why you feel this way,
Red," Blaise said, when Hermione had
revealed why she didn't feel much like
fighting anymore. Both he and Pansy had
adopted Theo's nickname for her and
were now comfortably calling her that
every so often.
"It's because you don't remember how it
was like before the war," Blaise
continued, when Hermione turned
curious eyes on him. "You don't
remember your days at Hogwarts or your
life before that. And you can't reminisce
or wish for something that you no longer
remember."
"Actually, that makes a lot of sense,"
Pansy added, after frowning thoughtfully
for awhile. She had been watching them
from her perch on the counter, more than
contented to stay away from the potions
because she claimed she didn't have a
knack for making them. "Remembering
how things were like before is the
reason why Blaise and I want this war to
end. We think of better times, of simpler
times, of safer times. And we can't wait
for things to go back to the way they
used to be."
Hermione considered their words
seriously for a moment or two. She
thought that it truly was simpler for
Theo, Blaise and Pansy - because it was
just black and white for them. Things
were good before, now they were bad;
and when the war ended, things would
go back to being good again.
She wondered if it was this clear cut for
herself and Draco. For her, things were
non-existent before, now they existed;
and when the war ended - what then?
And for Draco - she wondered if
perhaps the end of this war was the start
of another one for him.
But Hermione was abruptly drawn away
from her thoughts when the front door
opened. She felt her heart stutter in relief
when she saw Theo and Draco enter, the
latter of which had a bundle of fabric in
his hands.
Setting her spare wand down on the
table, she immediately went over to
Draco. She'd barely reached out for him
when he held out a hand briefly to stop
her, in the same way he'd done just the
night before. "Don't," she remembered
him saying, "I've got too much blood on
my hands."
"Draco," she breathed now, staring up at
him worriedly. "Is everything okay?"
His gaze locked on hers. Hermione was
aware of Blaise and Pansy sidling up
next to Theo, matching looks of
confusion on all three of their faces. Not
directed at her, but at Draco, whose
posture was rigid and seemed like he
had something to say.
He glanced round at the other four,
before shaking out the fabric in his
hands. And Hermione found the oxygen
leave her lungs when she realised that it
wasn't just a simple piece of cloth.
It was a cloak.
And Draco confirmed her thoughts mere
seconds later, when he placed his hand
underneath the cloak and his hand
vanished, amidst the startled looks from
Hermione and the other Slytherins.
Draco couldn't help but smirk briefly, in
spite of the sombre mood all round. "I
guess I found one of the Deathly
Hallows."
21 | glacius

21
gl aci us
Conjures ice.

"Best. Christmas. Present. Ever," were

the first words to break the silence in the
wake of Draco's announcement. They
came from Theo, who stared at the cloak
with gleaming eyes. "Can I borrow it?"
Draco shot him a flat look, quickly
deducing what was on Theo's mind.
Theo wasn't too difficult to read, and
Legilimency was honestly redundant on
him. "You're not going to use it for
shagging purposes."
Theo's mouth dropped in dramatic
indignation. "I wasn't going to - "
"You're not going to use it to watch
people shag either."
Now Theo scowled. "Killjoy."
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but a
tiny laugh from Hermione made him
glance over at her. His eyes softened as
he took the expression on her face in -
the light on her face and the gentle curve
of her lips. Merlin, he'd almost forgotten
how beautiful her smile was.
"Oh, I see what this is," Theo's eyes
flickered between Draco and Hermione,
an impish grin spreading across his face.
"You're going to use it, aren't you?
You're going to shag under it and that's
why I can't have it!"
Hermione blushed rapidly, while Draco
shot Theo a deadly look. "No one is
shagging under it because it belongs to
Harry fucking Potter."
There was a startled pause.
And then Blaise broke in with, "I see. So
you're thinking that if you shag under it
then maybe saint Potter wouldn't want it
back and you'll get to keep it. Brilliant
idea, Draco, just brilliant."
Actually, that was a brilliant idea - not
the shagging bit (okay, maybe the
shagging bit too, Draco would be lying if
he claimed that thought hadn't crossed
his mind the moment he saw the Cloak of
Invisibility) - but the idea that they'd get
to keep the Cloak for future missions.
It'd certainly work better than the
disillusionment charm for hiding
purposes.
Well, and shagging purposes too.
Draco almost scowled as he thought of
that. Fucking Zabini had put the idea into
his head and now he couldn't stop
thinking about it.
Shooting a brief glance at Hermione,
whose cheeks were still crimson - was
she thinking of something along the same
lines too? - Draco firmly shoved all
awry thoughts out of his mind and
concentrated on the matter at hand
instead.
"You remember Johnny Martins?" He
said, directing the question to the three
Slytherins. "Fresh initiate, always with
Guthrie and the other Death-Eaters - "
They nodded and he continued,
"apparently, he's been a member of the
Order for the past year, only to have
defected to the Dark Lord's side three
months ago. Since then, he's been
working under MacNair's orders.
Stealing the Cloak of Invisibility from
saint Potter was just one of his many
jobs."
"Wait," Blaise cut in, realisation rapidly
dawning on his face. "So MacNair's part
of the Peverells too?"
"It's unconfirmed," Draco acceded. "But
it seems fairly likely - that he'd ask
Martins to locate one of the Deathly
Hallows. Parkinson," he turned to Pansy,
who immediately straightened. "Get a
phial. You can all view Martins'
memories whenever."
Pansy disappeared into the room on the
right without another word. Blaise and
Theo quickly seized the opportunity to
snatch the Cloak from Draco and the two
were soon trying to conceal various
parts of their body just for the fun of it.
Draco watched in morbid fascination as
Theo's head floated in mid-air, but a
sudden tug from Hermione made him
glance down at the girl. She looked
anxious, her fingers grasping nervously
on the sleeve of his suit. He quickly led
her away back to their room, closing the
door behind them.
"What's wrong, Granger?" A sudden
thought struck him, and he gazed down at
her, hardly able to hide the worry in his
expression. "Do you remember Walden
MacNair?"
"I'm afraid not," Hermione confessed,
and her calm demeanour reaffirmed the
fact that she didn't. She stared up at him,
guilt swimming in her brown eyes.
"Draco, was I the reason why MacNair
knew where the Cloak was? I - I can't
remember if I gave away any
information, by accident - "
She began to stumble on her words and
Draco hastened to ease her fears. "No,
you didn't. Martins was a member of the
Order, remember? And, apparently, quite
a close one. He knew that Potter had the
Cloak."
Hermione sighed in relief and took a
step forward towards Draco, but he
almost flinched away, but she caught his
hands before he could. "Draco," she said
softly. "You killed someone today, didn't
you?"
Draco's jaw clenched, his gaze
darkening. "I kill people almost
everyday, Granger. It's not a big deal."
"You seem to think it is. So - who did
you kill today?" He kept silent, and she
suddenly knew. "Oh."
"There wasn't a fucking choice,
Granger," and there was a desperate
plea in his voice, like he was begging
her to understand. "He knew too much,
and if I sent him back, MacNair would
be suspicious. Erasing his memories
wouldn't work either, because he'd still
have to continue being a Death-Eater
with that Mark on his arm and MacNair
would just find out sooner or later, it's
just - "
"It's okay, Draco - I mean, it's not okay
to kill," Hermione hastened to correct
herself, and Draco's lips quirked up in a
wry grin at that. She sounded so much
like her old self for awhile.
"You did what you had to do," and
Hermione spoke slower now, like she
was contemplating every word before
she said it. "In a war like this -
everything's blurred. There are people
who do all the wrong things for all the
right reasons."
She reached up to brush away a stray
lock of blond hair that had fallen into his
eyes. Her palm lingered against his
cheek and he automatically leaned into
her touch. "And with such good
intentions - I don't think you can be
entirely bad, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was the first one up on

Christmas morning. Draco had been the
one to teach her how to cast a muffling
charm just several days ago, and she
picked up her wand to cast one on him
now.
After her bath, she changed into a
sweater that was not Draco's this time,
but hers, and went over to Draco's
impressive bookshelf. She located the
boxes she'd stored just behind a huge
stack of encyclopaedias, and toted them
out into the living room. Hermione
thought that the Christmas tree had never
looked prettier before despite having
spent many an afternoon gazing at it.
Maybe it was just the festive spirit that
was getting to her.
She smiled to herself and began to
rearrange the boxes under the Christmas
tree. She wasn't surprised to see that
there weren't any presents under it -
Draco had told her that they never
celebrated Christmas, not since the war
began anyway - and apart from Blaise
and herself, the others didn't seem
particularly enthusiastic about the
holiday.
When she was done rearranging, she
went into the kitchen and made her usual
pot of tea. She had just taken a sip of her
tea when one of the doors opened.
Blaise stumbled into the kitchen
moments later, looking rather surprised
when he saw Hermione already up and
about.
"Hey, Red," he greeted cheerfully, and
went over to pour himself a mug from
the pot Hermione had brewed. "Didn't
expect to see you up so early."
Hermione's cheeks tinted. "Uh, well - "
"You're excited for today, I get it. Merry
Christmas, by the way. You're probably
not going to be hearing this from any of
the others but me."
She chuckled and smiled at him warmly.
"Merry Christmas to you too," she set
her mug down and stood up. "I - I have a
present for you."
Blaise's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Yeah." Hermione went to the Christmas
tree and grabbed one of the boxes that
had Blaise's name labelled on it. She
handed it to Blaise, who seemed
genuinely excited to receive it. "Um, it's
not much, but it's one of the few things I
still remember how to do," she told him,
when he opened the box and found a
knitted green sweater.
Blaise looked at her in surprise.
"Merlin, did you make this?"
"Well - yes. They're all in different
shades of green. Mine's mint, yours is in
emerald, Pansy's is in teal and Theo's is
in viridian. Do you like it?"
"Of course I do," he didn't miss a beat,
and Hermione's smile widened when he
immediately began to pull it on. "Red,
this is the first present I've gotten since
the war began. Liking it is an
understatement."
"This is your first present?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, it's a war, and the
four of us are standing in the frontlines;
so it kind of seems pointless to celebrate
birthdays and Christmas and such when
being alive everyday is already a bloody
miracle. At least - that's the way Pansy
and Theo see it. Frankly, I'd kill for
presents every now and then," he added,
with a wink.
Hermione mulled his words over. She
thought that in some sense, she was
rather similar to Blaise. They'd both
seen the worst of the war, but it hadn't
completely killed the optimism in them.
"What about Draco?"
"Draco? He just stays away from
everything fun or merry in general. I
know he thinks he's done too many bad
things to enjoy something as pure as
Christmas, so he doesn't let himself
celebrate it."
"Oh."
"Cheer up, Red. Even if Draco doesn't
celebrate it, it doesn't mean the rest of us
aren't going to. I've got a present for you
too."
Hermione quite thought she'd misheard.
"What?"
"Yeah. Just let me get Pansy - it's a joint
gift from the both of us." Blaise got up
and headed back into his room, just as
Theo emerged from his, with an annoyed
scowl on his face. He wandered into the
living room, settling down onto the sofa
and stretching lazily.
"For Salazar's sake, what the hell was
all that noise? Were you two singing
Christmas carols outside or something?"
Hermione smiled. "Do you want us to?"
"Fuck no. By the way, Red, your
present's hanging on the bloody tree."
Hermione's eyes widened and she
immediately leapt up. "Where is it?"
"I just told you, Red. Search for it
yourself, it'll be like a stupid Easter egg
hunt - which, by the way, we will not be
celebrating when April comes."
A tiny smile curved on her lips when
Theo spoke about April. She was often
uncertain about the future, but if Theo
saw her staying with them for many more
months, she was definitely fine with that.
This apartment had become her safe
haven, and a part of her never wanted to
leave. She never wanted any of them to
leave.
She stood up and began searching for the
present that Theo had hung on the tree. It
didn't take long. Mere seconds later, she
found a wand tied by a tiny string to one
of the branches. She glanced over at
Theo, who simply smirked.
"It's yours, Red."
Hermione froze. "My wand?"
"Yeah. I got it back for you from the
Order - well, technically, Draco and I
went together, but I'd like to take full
credit for it, because I'm the one who
found it. And - I swear, Red, you better
not be crying - "
"I'm not!" But she was well into a bout
of sniffles and Theo looked at her
strangely. "I just - " She stared at him
and realised that she had never once
been wrong about them. Any of them.
They were Death-Eaters, but how could
they be bad when they had done nothing
but good things for her? "Thank you,
Theo."
"Don't fucking hug me or anything," he
warned her warily. "And stop crying."
Hermione managed a weak laugh. She
was still brushing errant tears away
when one of the doors clicked open and
a familiar, feminine voice cut in.
"Theodore Nott, why're you making Red
cry on Christmas morning?" Pansy stood
by the doorway of the room, her hair
rumpled and features laced with
annoyance as she scowled at Theo.
"I didn't make her cry. I just gave her a
present and she began sobbing."
Hermione choked out an amused laugh.
"Well, then, prepare to weep because
Blaise and I have got the best present for
you," Pansy declared. She and Blaise
went over to where Hermione was, and
set down a chest on the floor. "Open it."
And so Hermione did; flipping the
catches on the chest and finding a whole
inventory inside. There were phials of
medicine and healing potions labelled
neatly, a stack of books on one end along
with a cloth folded neatly in the other. It
seemed far too much to fit into a single
chest, and Hermione couldn't help but
just stare at the vast collection of it.
"Most of these used to be mine," Blaise
said, a smile curving on his face as he
watched Hermione's expression closely.
"Well - it was a lot simpler than that.
Pansy and I went to the black market the
other day to refill the stockpile and get
some other things. We cast an
undetectable extension charm on it so it
can store far more than its original
capacity. This chest now has every
healing potion you'll ever need in the
phials, and every spell you'll ever need
to know in those books."
"Yes, and one more thing," Pansy added,
reaching for the cloth and shaking it out.
Hermione's eyes widened when she
recognised what it was. "Draco thought
it was a good idea that you should be the
one to have it. After all, Potter's your
best friend and the Cloak would keep
you safe."
"You're now our official healer," Blaise
finished, with a grin.
Hermione was silent for a long moment.
She thought of what Pansy had said
about Potter being her best friend, and
realised that Pansy couldn't be further
from the truth. Because maybe Harry
Potter was one of the closest people to
her a long time ago, but the war had
changed so much. And now she knew
without a doubt that the three Slytherins
in the living room and the fourth in the
bedroom were the only people she knew
and loved more than the world.
"You're going to cry again, aren't you?"
Theo's sardonic question made
Hermione laugh, even has tears pricked
her eyes again. "I'm not. I - I just don't
know what to say."
"Then say nothing," Pansy grinned,
before settling down on the floor next to
Hermione and staring at the presents
under the Christmas tree. "So - which
one of the boxes belongs to me?"
"Wait." Theo got up now, quickly
heading over to Hermione. "We've got
presents too?"
He sounded so shocked that Hermione
began to wonder if it was the best idea
after all. "Do you not want presents...?"
"No, you can't take it back," Theo
returned quickly, and promptly found his
box under the tree. He opened it with the
kind of impatience akin to a little child,
which Hermione found thoroughly
endearing. And when he found the
jumper, she thought that maybe Theodore
Nott secretly liked Christmas after all.
She watched the pleased look on Theo's
face and the thrilled one on Pansy's
when she opened her box, and wondered
if maybe not celebrating Christmas had
nothing to do with them being Death-
Eaters or the war, and everything instead
to do with Draco.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It did have everything to do with Draco,

as Hermione soon found out later that
day. She'd spent all morning playing that
game Theo had invented with apples, a
baseball bat and the Knockback jinx.
Pansy and Blaise had joined just for fun,
even though the latter was appalled to
see the mess they'd made afterwards.
Draco didn't leave the room.
And when he didn't even come out for
lunch, Hermione went back inside
because, well, it just wasn't the same
without him. It was a form of attachment
she knew wasn't wise to have at a time
like this, but then again, he was all she
had.
She found him in his usual chair, his legs
hanging off one arm of the seat and his
back resting against the other side. He
was deep in concentration as he read, a
tiny frown glossing his forehead every
now and then, but glanced up when she
entered. "Granger."
"Hey," she went over to him worriedly.
"Why didn't you come outside?"
He shrugged. "I fucking hate Christmas,
Granger, you know that."
"Yes - I gathered," she smiled and shook
her head fondly at him. Then she
remembered the presents she'd made for
him still tucked away, and quickly went
to the bookshelf to retrieve it.
Draco watched her for a moment; an
internal debate ensuing in his mind
before he finally gave in. "Christmas
reminds me of my parents," he said
flatly, his voice carefully devoid of any
emotion. "We used to celebrate it - but
now they're gone."
"Not quite," Hermione's voice was
muffled as she rummaged through the
books.
"What?"
She fished out two boxes and glanced
over at him. Her eyes were bright and
soft at the same time, the smile on her
face hesitant but hopeful. "You'll see,"
she said vaguely, and held out the boxes
for him to take. "Open them."
His eyebrows shot up. But he didn't
question her motive, and took the boxes
from her. She couldn't help but feel
impatient as he opened them slowly. And
after he fidgeted with the box a little
longer - she was certain he was doing
this on purpose - she reached over and
grabbed the first box away from him
before opening it.
"It's a sweater," Hermione shook out the
midnight-green fabric and handed it to
him. She wanted to tell him that the
colour suited him best - because if she
was light then he was darkness, but light
was only often appreciated because of
the dark, and so she was nothing without
him. She wished she could say it all, but
words didn't come easy to her anymore.
"I hope you like it," she said instead.
A tiny smirk curled on his lips as he
stared down at it, smoothing his hands
over the fabric in a somewhat careful
manner, like he was afraid to ruin it.
"'Dromeda sent the wool, didn't she?"
Hermione blushed. "You knew?"
"An unlabelled parcel sent to our
doorstep addressed to you. Doesn't take
a genius to find out."
"I called her about it. I wanted to go to
the Black Market, but - I don't think I'm
ready to go out just yet."
Draco stared at her for a moment or two,
before glancing away. "Take your time,
Granger," he told her, as he fiddled with
the other box. Hermione let him open it
himself this time round, picking
anxiously at a stray thread on her
sweater as he lifted a brand new phial
from the box. He threw a confused
glance at her and she smiled.
"It's my memory - of your mother."
He froze. "What?"
"I remembered some time ago. It's just a
fleeting memory, but I asked Pansy to
extract it and - and store it up for you.
Just in case I forget again." She shifted
closer to the edge of the bed. "Do you
want to view it? Pansy says we can use
the pensieve - "
"No," Draco returned quickly. He
couldn't quite meet her eyes, instead
staring fixedly at the phial. "I'll see it
some other time." There was a pause,
and then he glanced briefly over at her.
"Presents on the bed are for you, by the
way."
"Who's it from?"
"Me."
"You?" Hermione stared at him in
astonishment, but she immediately
reached for the gifts. "But you hate
Christmas."
"Yes, but you don't."
"Oh." She eagerly opened the boxes, a
smile curving her face when she saw a
phial in one of the boxes as well. Lifting
the chain off her neck, she promptly hung
the new one with the one that Draco had
given her before. "Whose memory is
this?"
"Everyone's."
She stared at him in confusion.
"The four of us wear phials that contain
our own memories," he explained,
dragging out his chain and showing her
the two phials that hung at the bottom,
"so it's time you had one. And since you
don't remember much, I put together a
collection of memories the four of us -
and Dromeda - have of you. And it's -
Granger, don't you dare cry," he warned,
when started to sniff. "I heard you
earlier when the others gave you their
presents and you've already maxed out
your bloody crying quota for today."
Hermione laughed, in spite of herself,
and grasp the new phial firmly between
her fingers. "Thank you, Draco."
"Don't thank me. Just open the other
one."
She chuckled again, brushing her eyes
quickly with the back of her hand, before
opening the other box. Her eyes widened
when she saw a stack of books from
authors whose names she distantly
remembered. Tolkien. Austen. Dickens.
And then her heart stuttered as she
realised what they were. "You got me
muggle books?"
His lips curled up in a brief smirk.
"I thought you hated muggles. You've
always believed that they - we - are
inferior."
He didn't miss the way her eyes
flickered down to the scar on her arm.
She was close enough for him to reach
over to trace the mark Bellatrix had
branded her with, and so he did.
"Everything's blurred, Granger," he
murmured, at last, reminding her of what
she'd said some nights ago. "Ever since
the bloody war began, I'm not too sure
what I believe in anymore - this," he
brushed his thumb gently over her skin,
before dragging up the sleeve of his own
jumper. His Dark Mark was as visible
and abhorrent as ever. "Or this."
Hermione didn't know what made her act
on impulse. Maybe it was the hesitance
in his silver eyes, or the fact that she felt
the dire need to reassure him. But she
didn't think twice when she leaned up,
holding his face gently between her
hands and pressed her lips to his.
Draco froze against her, but she kissed
him soundly, throwing aside her nerves
and inhibitions for just a moment. And as
his eyes fell shut and his heart began to
pound, he realised somewhere in the
back of his mind that Hermione Granger
kissed like nothing else mattered but
him.
Not the war, or the blood, or the
destruction - just him, like he'd hung the
moon and painted the stars and he was
her world and everything in between.
So he kissed her back, because it was
the only thing that made perfect sense.
She was inexperienced as ever, and so
he reached up and threaded his fingers
gently through her curls, angling her head
so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue
gently prodded her lips open and he
swallowed the sigh that left her and
swept into his mouth. She tasted of
peppermint and chocolate and something
else utterly addictive that was just
purely her, and he felt his stomach
tighten deliciously when she sighed his
name against his lips.
It was enough to remind him that this
was wrong, and so he drew back slowly,
guiltily stealing another kiss from her
lips before pulling away completely. She
gazed up at him with heavy-lids and
glazed eyes and Merlin, he fucking
wanted her, all of her.
But he couldn't have her.
She smiled softly at him, a light of
understanding in her eyes despite the fact
that he'd remained silent, and reached up
to brush her thumb against his cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Draco."
He surprised her with a smile, because it
was the first of its kind. He'd smirked
plenty, but never had she seen him let his
guard down before. "Merry Christmas,
Granger."
"Hermione."
"Merry Christmas, Hermione."
22 | bombarda

22
b o mb a r d a
Provokes an explosion.

New Year's Eve was a far more subdued

event. Blaise had suggested celebrating
it, but his idea was quick shot down by
the other three Slytherins.
"It's kind of pointless," Theo had said,
when Blaise asked for a reason. "I mean,
all it does is to remind us that one more
year has come and gone, and we're still
fighting a war that never seems to end."
His words were met with resigned
silence from the others. Hermione
couldn't help but acknowledge that Theo
was right - as pessimistic as it sounded.
It didn't make much of a difference to
her, because she'd been in captivity for
so long that she found herself rather
detached from the whole idea of war.
But she supposed that for the four of
them, who seemed to fight harder than
anyone, it was a disappointment to wake
up everyday and realised that the war
was not yet over.
Nevertheless, she thought that they still
could use some holiday merriment, and
so she offered to help Blaise in the
kitchen that New Year's Eve. She wasn't
as proficient at cooking as he was, of
course, but she knew the bare basics.
"I think it's good to have you, Red,"
Blaise mused, while they were
preparing the food. "My mood gets
dragged down by the other three and it's
hard to stay hopeful sometimes."
Hermione looked up at him. "Well - I
think hope is very much necessary at a
time like this - just as much as bravery
is."
Blaise let out a slight chuckle at that.
"Don't tell Draco or Theo what you just
said. They'd rather kill themselves than
admit that what they have is a form of
Gryffindor courage rather than Slytherin
cowardice."
The two laughed for a moment and
continued to work in silence for awhile,
until the tray of food was finally done.
Blaise picked up his wand, gesturing for
Hermione to do the same. "Okay, you try
it this time. Ready?"
Hermione nodded uncertainly as she
tried to remember what he'd taught her
earlier. He smiled brightly at her and
gestured towards the fireplace. "Go
ahead."
She took a deep breath and gripped her
wand tight.
"Incendio."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
"Okay, Theo, I have to ask - food or
sex?"
Theo grinned and leaned back in his
chair. He'd just had his third helping of
roast ham to go with the heap of food on
his plate, so he wasn't surprised when
Pansy finally asked that question. "I don't
know," he answered truthfully, before
turning to his best mate next to him.
"Draco?"
Draco didn't even spare him a glance.
"Food."
"Really?"
"I need food to fucking live, don't I?
"Well, logically, that's the right way to
look at it," Theo acceded. "But let's just
say that you can go the rest of your life
with either food or sex - which will it
be?"
"Food."
"Really?" Theo's lips tugged upwards in
a sly smile that almost mirrored Pansy's
opposite him. "So let's say a really,
really attractive brunette - " and now
Theo looked pointedly at Hermione,
who was in the kitchen with Blaise, " -
threw herself at you and you'd still pick
food?"
"Food," but neither Pansy nor Theo
missed the way Draco's eyes flickered to
Hermione for a brief moment.
Theo chuckled. It was a good thing that
Hermione was busy preparing the
pudding and couldn't hear the
conversation they'd just had. He was
certain her blush would be off the charts.
Theo had just started on the new portion
of ham when the skin on his arm
suddenly erupted with a slow, familiar
burn. He stilled, a slice of ham still
hanging off his fork, and glanced over at
Draco with wide eyes and a sinking
heart. Pansy too looked worried, and
Blaise was heading out of the kitchen
towards them with Hermione in tow.
Only Draco looked calm as ever, but
Theo swore he could see the sliver of
fear in Draco's eyes. Or maybe he wasn't
the only one who saw it - maybe
Hermione noticed it too, if the way her
eyes darted towards Draco and stayed
fixed on him was any indication.
"Draco?" Blaise was the first to break
the silence. "Is it - "
"Yes," Draco's jaw was clenched, and
he jerked his head in the direction of
their Death-Eater robes hanging on the
coat rack. "Go. Now."
The other three needed no further
encouragement. They immediately went
over to grab their robes and masks,
before apparating to the Malfoy Manor.
But Draco lingered, if only to cast a
reassuring look at Hermione.
"We'll be fine, Granger."
She smiled faintly and closed the
distance between them, wrapping her
arms tightly around his waist. "Is there
anything I can do to help?"
He thought about it. "Get the potions
ready. We'll probably be pretty cut up
when we get back. And save Theo's food
for him, he'll probably be starving as
usual."
She nodded and looked up at him,
reaching up to brush the pads of her
thumbs gently against his cheeks. "Stay
safe, Draco."
"Not likely. It's an occupational hazard,"
Draco smirked briefly, feeling the knot
in his stomach dissipate when Hermione
let out a tiny laugh.
"Then just do whatever you can to come
back."
And this was a promise he could make.
"Always, Granger."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco had vaguely guessed that the Dark

Lord was to launch a surprise attack on
the Order. He'd expected Christmas -
since the Dark Lord liked celebrating the
fucking holidays in style, and death was
the best way to go about it - but New
Year's Eve was no surprise either.
But the mission was different this time
round, because it wasn't about finding
out as much information as they could.
Instead, it was just about staying alive
and taking as few lives as possible - the
latter of which proved an almost
impossible task since the Dark Lord
himself was going to be present.
And so Draco found himself standing
next to the Dark Lord a good distance
away from the Order's headquarters.
Behind them stood the other Death-
Eaters whom Draco had picked out just
a half hour ago. The three Lestranges
were there this time - Bellatrix,
Rodolphus and Rabastan - along with
Guthrie Rhodes; all of whom Draco
knew were top-notch fighters and would
see to the success of their mission. Then
there was Yaxley and MacNair, two
members of the Peverells whom Draco
was secretly hoping would get killed in
the crossfire. Theo and Blaise were the
last two, because Draco knew they could
hold their own in a fight and watch his
back.
He was actually more concerned about
Pansy, who was undercover this time
round. She was standing a good way
behind them, placed under a
disillusionment charm. Draco just hoped
that the Dark Lord wouldn't actually
detect her presence.
"My lord?" Bellatrix stepped up, taking
her position on the other side of the Dark
Lord. "We're ready."
The Dark Lord glanced over at Draco,
who nodded silently. "Bring Harry
Potter to me. I want him alive," the Dark
Lord said, as he drew out the Elder
wand from his cloak.
Draco watched him silently, his heart
pounding because the second of the
Deathly Hallows was close enough for
him to take. Did the Peverells know that
their leader had one of the Deathly
Hallows? Was that their final plan then,
to usurp the Dark Lord and disarm him,
after they'd located the other two
Deathly Hallows?
Draco's mind raced, and he found
himself momentarily left behind as the
others apparated off towards the
headquarters. But he took his time about
it, knowing that Pansy was trailing him
from behind, and he wanted to ensure
that she entered the building the same
time as he did.
When he finally reached the front door,
he felt Pansy come up to him, her fingers
brushing briefly against his by way of
greeting. "Any last words of advice?"
She sounded torn between amusement
and anxiety, and he knew she was more
nervous than she let on.
"Yes," his voice was low and almost
inaudible, loud enough only for her to
hear. "Stay alive."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione spent New Year's Eve alone.

After the four Slytherins had left, she'd
packed up the remaining food, washed
all the dishes, and grabbed the box of
potions that Blaise and Pansy had given
her for Christmas. It didn't take long for
her to lay out all the bottles on the
counter and when she was done, she
counted down the hours to midnight.
And then it was New Year's, but the war
was still raging on.
It wasn't until a good forty minutes later
that Pansy suddenly apparated back into
the apartment along with a heavily
wounded girl. Pansy herself looked a
little cut up, but the other girl was
unconscious and bleeding terribly.
Hermione let out a horrified gasp at the
sight. "What happened?"
"I accidentally splinched her," Pansy
sounded frustrated, and she set the girl
down gently onto the floor before
running straight into the room where they
stored the memory phials. "Draco told
me that my task was to watch out for
him, and Blaise and Theo, just in case.
But I thought it'd be clever to save
members of the Order, and I tried it on
her. Only I forgot that when you apparate
two people there's always a risk of not
doing it properly and she got splinched. I
mean, apart from the fact that she was
already hexed pretty badly."
"Who hexed her?"
"Draco, of course." Pansy came back out
and saw the look of shock on Hermione's
face. "Come on, Red, it's a war and the
Dark Lord's leading this mission. Be
thankful that Draco used a hex and not an
Avada."
Hermione realised that Pansy was right.
There was really no room for sentiment
or mercy at a time like this. She went
over to the counter and handed Pansy a
couple of numbing potions. "You might
need this."
"Thanks." Pansy stuffed the potions in
her bag along with the other empty
memory phials she'd gotten, before
picking up her wand again. She cast
another swift glance at the girl on the
floor. "Take care of her."
"I will. And please be safe, Pansy."
Pansy gave Hermione a quick hug.
"We'll be fine," she assured her, before
apparating out of the apartment
altogether, leaving nothing but a dusty,
bloodied silence behind.
Hermione's eyes drifted over to the girl
on the floor. And then her instincts
kicked in and she immediately began to
work. She remembered briefly how
Blaise had taught her that Dittany
worked best on splinched body parts.
Draco had gotten a bottle of it from the
Black Market awhile ago, and she used
some of it now, after clearing away the
blood with a quick Scourgify.
"You're going to be fine," Hermione
whispered, when the girl let out a
painful cry even in her state of
unconsciousness. "You're safe now.
Everything's okay."
Hermione soon realised that there was
something easier about healing. It wasn't
like fighting, where it sent fear rushing
through her veins. It calmed her, because
she'd spent so many years suffering that
it was all she wanted to do to get better.
And now that she was better, it only
made sense for her to want to help others
feel better too.
It wasn't until Hermione had cleaned the
blood off and eased the swelling on the
girl's face when she suddenly realised
exactly who this girl was. And she
paused, her eyes widening as she took in
the girl's familiar features - the blond
hair and the fairy-like tilt of the girl's
shut eyelids.
The memory was vague but there.
Hermione dropped her wand and ran
into the room, searching for the
Hogwarts yearbook. She flipped through
the pages, found exactly what she was
looking for and when she went back out,
realised that her guess was completely
right.
An expression of disbelief flitted across
Hermione's features as she stared down
at the girl, hugging the yearbook tightly
to her chest. A person she knew very
well from her past had finally returned
back into her life, and she had no idea
how to feel about it.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco didn't blink as a disarming spell

was shot his way.
It bounced off him as usual - it always
did; and he shot a killing curse right
back at whoever had shot it at him. The
person promptly dropped dead, but
Draco didn't even turn to look at his
victim.
It was always easier that way. Ignorance
was almost always the alternative to a
life engulfed with guilt and shame, and
Draco was already struggling to breathe
in the waters of the latter.
He was duelling by the Dark Lord's side,
which in retrospect was the worst
position to be in, because he was now
forced to kill instead of stunning his
targets. When the Dark Lord had finally
taken down the last enemy in the room,
he turned to Draco.
"Do you know what the Order's main
weakness is, Draco?"
Draco didn't even have to think twice.
"They show mercy where it's not
needed, my lord."
"Precisely." The Dark Lord's lips
stretched into a faint smile and Draco
felt a faint shiver gloss his spine at the
sight of it. "Now, where are the others?"
"The main hall, my lord. They're still
fighting."
The Dark Lord nodded and headed out
of the room, deliberately stepping on
dead bodies if they happened to be in the
way. Draco avoided them the best he
could, but blood was everywhere and he
was positive he reeked of it. They all
did. It was part and parcel of the job.
How Hermione could stand being near
him was unfathomable.
The fight in the main hall was still going
strong, but it turned into a bloodbath the
moment Draco and the Dark Lord
stepped in. Midway through the fight,
MacNair picked his way over to talk to
their leader.
"My lord," he began, and the Dark Lord
paused, looking faintly annoyed that he
was distracted mid-battle. "It would be
wise to leave some of the Order
members alive, so we could get
information out of them."
Draco paused, sneaking a quick glance
over at MacNair. Surely, this wasn't
something to do with the Deathly
Hallows, was it?
The Dark Lord's lips tightened. "Are you
questioning my decisions?"
"No, my lord. But information about the
Order, or what's left of them, is always
useful and - "
The words froze on the tip of his tongue
as a sudden curse flew towards him. But
it was blocked at the very last second by
an impenetrable, invisible shield. Both
he and the Dark Lord turned, only to see
Draco's wand poised to protect.
"Do watch your back, MacNair,"
Draco's smirk widened when the Dark
Lord shot a murderous look at the other
Death-Eater for nearly putting their lives
in danger. "I might not always be the
fucking knight in shining armour."
MacNair glared, before turning to the
Dark Lord hastily, an apologetic
expression on his face. "My lord, I had
no idea - "
"Finish the fight. And you'll receive your
punishment when this is over."
The Death-Eater went away, his
shoulders tensed as he thought about the
consequences of his careless behaviour.
Once out of earshot, the Dark Lord
glanced over at Draco. "We'll settle for
capturing some of the members, since
Harry Potter is nowhere in sight."
"Yes, my lord."
And Draco went off to spread the
message to the others, shooting a silent
killing curse at a badly injured person on
the way, because he knew that being
captured alive by Death-Eaters and then
tortured for information was a fate far
worse than death.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It wasn't until four when Theo finally

returned back to the apartment.
Hermione jumped up eagerly, relieved to
see him, because Pansy and Blaise had
already returned an hour ago. But one
look at Theo's face and she shrank back,
realising that he'd worked himself into a
fine temper.
Theo cast a swift glance at the sleeping,
injured girl on the sofa, and the
expression on his face grew thunderous.
He brushed past Hermione, heading
straight for Pansy and wrenching the mug
of hot chocolate away from her, banging
it violently down on the table. "What the
fuck was that?"
"Whoa, Theo, calm down - "
"Shut up, Blaise. Draco's going to be
equally as furious when he comes back.
He had it all planned out, but you fucking
botched it!"
Hermione hastily cast a muffling charm
on the sleeping girl, before going warily
towards the three Slytherins. Pansy
looked equally as livid and she jumped
up, shrugging off the warning hand
Blaise placed on her shoulder.
"I botched it? I was trying to save their
arses, Theodore - "
Theo snarled, casting a heated glare
over at the sleeping girl in the living
room. "You brought a member of the
Order into our apartment - "
"She was injured!"
"Then you leave her there to die!"
"No," Hermione couldn't stop the word
from leaving her mouth. Theo turned to
her, his eyes softening slightly when he
saw the look of horror on her face.
Hermione swallowed, and looked
pleadingly at him. "She's - she's a friend,
Theo."
Theo paused for a moment, but then he
shook his head. "Fine, let's not go there,"
he said gruffly, but then his eyes
narrowed and he turned back to Pansy.
"Let's go to the part where you used
Obliviate on the Order members after
the Dark Lord changed his mind and
asked that we capture them instead - "
Blaise tried to interrupt with his usual,
calm manner, "but Theo - "
" - you too, Blaise, why the hell were
you using Stupefys instead of Avadas?
Huh? What the hell was that about?"
Blaise blinked. "The Dark Lord told us
to capture them, not to kill them! If
anything, I ought to be asking why you
and Draco were killing people when the
Dark Lord said not to. Don't think I
didn't notice, Theo - the two of you
killed countless of people on the way out
-"
"Because it was the simplest way!"
Pansy snorted. "You mean the cruellest -
"
"Do not even go there," and Theo's voice
was deadly now. "We did what we had
to do. No regrets. It was for the greater
good."
"The greater good?" Pansy stared at him
in disbelief. "The greater good involves
taking innocent lives for absolutely no
reason when they could actually be
spared?"
"Because it's a better fate than being
captured," Hermione said.
The three of them turned to Hermione,
who simply shrugged. Her mind was
reeling with the brutality of war - it was
like she'd finally opened her eyes and
become aware of the chaos around her.
But it made sense. It all made sense.
She thought of her days in torture and
realised that there were times when she
wished she were dead. The only thing,
or person, that kept her going was
Draco; but not everyone was going to
have a top Death-Eater searching for
them for so long.
"If they're captured," she continued,
hesitantly, "they'll be tortured - for
information. The way I was. And - and
not everyone's as lucky to be saved. So
you kill them." She took a deep breath.
"It's a form of mercy."
There was a heartbeat of silence.
Then Theo spoke. "Finally! Someone
gets it," he sighed, before heading off
towards his room. "I'm going to bed.
Explain yourselves to Draco when he
gets back."
"Wait - Theo," Hermione stopped him.
"Do you want some potion for your
bruises?"
He shook his head. "It's fine, Red."
He went into his room, slamming the
door shut behind him. Hermione looked
at Blaise and Pansy, who wore matching
looks of unease on their faces. It upset
her that they were probably berating
themselves for doing what they
considered the right thing. And in a
moral sense - it was the right choice, to
save lives rather than to take them.
But the war was no place to make moral
choices.
Hermione smiled lightly and tried to
ease their worries. "I'm sure it'll be fine.
Draco would understand."
"Of course he would," Blaise ran a
frustrated hand through his hair. "We just
wouldn't be able to forgive ourselves if
they're tortured to insanity."
Hermione felt a shudder go down her
spine at his words. "Maybe they
wouldn't be tortured," she said instead,
trying to be optimistic about the
situation. "Maybe - maybe the Order
will come to rescue them."
"Highly unlikely," Pansy didn't seem
convinced at all, even though the frown
on Blaise's face eased up a little.
And so Hermione stayed silent as Pansy
and Blaise went back to their room. She
poured the remnants of hot chocolate
down the sink and washed the cups
manually, before checking up on the
sleeping girl again.
The girl was fine, and Hermione heaved
a sigh of relief. Was this what it was like
to be in a war? Not as a captured,
tortured prisoner, but as a person
fighting for a better day? She had quickly
grasped the essence of it - the constant
fear; the cold, sinking feeling of dread as
each minute ticked by and the people she
loved didn't return.
And that was the least of it. What if a
time came for her to be on the
battlefield, with them? What if she had
to be the one to make the right choices -
not the moral ones, but the right ones? It
was impossible not to be wrecked up
about it, to lose yourself a little by little
as the war raged on and the guilt wore
you down.
She took a deep breath and tried to clear
her head, instead keeping her eyes fixed
on the clock and counting down the
seconds to Draco's return. It wasn't until
half past five in the morning when he
finally did, looking utterly exhausted,
with scratches and bruises freckling his
skin, but none too severe that she
couldn't mend.
"Granger, what - " his words were cut
off when she launched into his arms,
looping her arms around him and burying
her face tightly against his neck.
"I'm so glad you're back," she
whispered, holding back a strangled sob.
"I'm so glad you're safe."
His lips curled up in a brief smirk
against her skin, but he held her equally
as tightly, perhaps too tightly - but it was
better than a grip loose enough to let her
go anyway. "I did make you a promise,
Granger."
23 | flipendo

23
fl i pendo
Knocks opponent over.

Hermione didn't quite know what to do

when Luna awoke the next morning. She
hadn't expected Luna to wake up so
quickly, so it had taken her completely
by surprise when the girl stirred awake.
She wasn't even able to run out of the
room in time - something she dreadfully
wanted to do - and have Blaise or any of
the other Slytherins take care of Luna
instead.
When Luna kept staring, Hermione knew
that it was finally time to properly
introduce herself. She allowed a shy,
fleeting smile to curve her lips and
nodded at the girl. "Hello, Luna."
"Hermione?"
Luna seemed unable to believe her eyes.
She struggled to sit up and Hermione
immediately went over to her, easing her
back down onto the pillow. Draco had
spent the past few hours clearing out the
guest room, before Transfiguring a chair
and using it as a makeshift bed for Luna.
"The Order's not going to be coming
back for her so soon," Draco had said,
when Hermione asked why Luna was to
stay with them. "They're going to be too
busy saving their arses they wouldn't
even think about the captured prisoners
until at least a week later. Loony
Lovegood's stuck with us."
"Lu-na," Hermione had corrected,
smiling fondly at Draco when his eyes
narrowed at her.
"It's Loony. Just wait till you have a
bloody conversation with her - if you
can even call it a conversation."
Hermione wasn't even sure she could
have a conversation with Luna
Lovegood anymore. The girl looked
vaguely familiar but that was all, so it
was really like going up to a complete
stranger and striking up a conversation.
So Hermione forced her worries aside
for a moment, concentrating instead on
Luna's wellbeing. "You're in a lot of
pain. Just - just lie back down."
"Is it really you?" Luna's eyes were big
and round as she stared up at Hermione.
"Yes, it's me," Hermione recoiled when
Luna reached up to hug her. But the other
girl was too swift and Hermione tried
not to flinch when Luna wrapped her
arms briefly around her.
"Everyone thought you were dead," Luna
told her bluntly, after she'd pulled back,
"but I've always told Neville that you
weren't. And Harry and Ron and Ginny
too. Although none of them seem to
believe me. But they've missed you so
much - we all do." Luna didn't seem to
notice the frozen look on Hermione's
face, and continued on in her breezy,
cheery manner. "It's so good to see you,
Hermione. Everyone in the Order will
be so happy to know that you're here.
Where is here, anyway?"
Hermione felt herself shaking as she fell
several steps away from the girl. "I - I
have to get some potions, Luna," she
stammered out, subconsciously realising
that she was stammering badly all over
again, "I'll - I'll be right back."
And before Luna could even reply,
Hermione had rushed out of the room,
slamming the door shut behind her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco awoke that morning with a

chilling terror seizing his heart when he
glanced over at the chair and found it
empty. It wasn't until he recalled Looney
Lovegood in the other room and realised
that Hermione had probably gone to
check up on her that the oxygen finally
rushed back into his lungs.
He took his time in the shower, using his
wand to heal the bruises on his
abdomen. By the time he was done and
had left the room, he found Theo, Blaise
and Pansy sitting in the kitchen having
breakfast. But it was different this
morning - the house was filled with a
tensed silence, and Pansy and Blaise
seemed hardly able to look at him. He
went over to them, dragging out a chair
for himself and settling down at the
table.
"Look," he began calmly, and waited
until the two of them slowly dragged
their gazes up to meet his. "Last night
was a disaster - "
"A major disaster," Theo cut in, only to
shut his mouth when Draco shot him a
look.
" - it didn't go according to plan and it
was a fucking loss for the Order. But it's
not your fault," he told Blaise and turned
to Pansy. "Or yours. We had a
miscommunication; we weren't on the
same wavelengths - the whole bloody
mission was an unexpected one, for
Merlin's sake."
He paused to take a deep breath. "We
can't fall apart," he said flatly,
wondering if they knew how important
they were to him. He'd never in a million
years admit it, but the three of them,
Hermione, Andromeda and her grandson
Teddy were all he had left. "The Order's
already in pieces and the Dark Lord's
inner circle has traitors from within, so
we can't break down. Do you three
fucking get it?"
They seemed a little surprise by the
vehemence in his tone, but nodded all
the same. Theo had just opened his
mouth to speak when Hermione came
rushing out of the guest room. Her face
was wrought with anxiety and she
hurried past, not even noticing them in
the kitchen as she headed straight for
Draco's room. The door slammed shut
behind her, and the four Slytherins
exchanged glances.
"Did anyone else find that odd?" was
Theo's casual quip, to which Pansy
rolled her eyes.
"Clever observation, Sherlock," but her
voice was teasing and light, and Theo
knew at once that the quarrel they had
the night before was all but forgotten, so
he grinned.
"You flatter me too much, Watson."
Blaise rolled his eyes, before casting an
apologetic glance in Draco's direction.
"Luna's probably awake now. I didn't
mean to leave Hermione in there for so
long, but I didn't think the sleeping
draught would wear off so quickly."
Draco got to his feet and poured out two
mugs of tea, before heading out of the
kitchen. "Check up on Lovegood," he
called over his shoulder to Blaise.
"Alright." But Blaise continued to sit at
the table, even after Draco had returned
back to his room.
Theo glanced at him in amusement. "Not
looking forward to meeting Loony
Lovegood, huh?"
Blaise gave him a flat look. "Are you?"
"'Course not," Theo scoffed. "Red's not
the only one uncomfortable around the
loon. I'm sure we all are."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was pacing frantically in the

room, her face drawn tight and worried,
and Draco thought for a moment how
much she looked like her old self -
always in action, always thinking, even
in the face of trouble.
She glanced up the moment he entered, a
look of utter relief registering on her
face, and he'd barely had time to shut the
door before she rushed into his arms.
"Thank Merlin you're here," she choked
out.
No, Draco thought, thank Merlin you're
here.
But he didn't allow the words to leave
his lips, and simply held her tight as she
trembled, like the aftermath of a
devastating earthquake. When she drew
back, her eyes searched his frantically.
"I - I don't want to go back to the Order,
Draco."
"Is that what Lovegood said?"
"Well, she - she said the Order would be
happy - to see me." Draco frowned as
Hermione began to trip over her words
again, in an attempt to get them out. "She
said that - everyone thought I-I was
dead, and that they'd be happy to hear
that I'm alright."
The Order thought that Hermione
Granger was dead? Draco suddenly felt
something like a slow burn of anger rise
inside him. All these years, he'd always
thought that the Order hadn't been
searching for Hermione because they'd
been too busy struggling to survive. So
he'd let that slide.
But this - this was new. This was cold.
The Order hadn't looked for Hermione
simply because they'd presumed her
dead. Logically, it was the right decision
and Draco knew that he too held this sort
of mentality when it came to the war -
but this was Hermione Granger, and you
didn't fucking give up on Hermione
Granger even if she went missing.
"Draco?"
He blinked and focused back on her.
"Yeah?"
A tiny smile glossed her lips as she
looked up at him fondly. "I-I was saying
- do you think it's wrong that I have no
wish to go back to the Order?" His
eyebrows rose and she hastened to
explain herself, "I mean - I feel like it's
selfish of me to not want to. I feel like I
have to help them too, because that's
something I used to do. But - " she
sighed, meeting his gaze frankly. " - I
want to stay with you."
"Then don't go," he blurted abruptly. The
words slipped past his lips, far too swift
and selfish to catch, and he felt like a
bastard for even wanting Hermione to
stay with him, but it was the truth.
Nothing more, nothing less.
"Really?"
"Yes," he rushed out, and this was the
closest to a confession that Hermione
was ever going to get. He pulled her
close and buried his face in her curls,
because he didn't think he could look her
in the eyes and say it out loud. "Stay
with me."
He felt her smile against his skin.
"Of course."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Theo had lost to Pansy and Blaise at

rock-paper-scissors - a game that
Hermione had taught him several days
ago. And so he had to be the one to bring
Loony Lovegood the healing potions.
To say he wasn't looking forward to it
would be an understatement. Theo
thought it was the stupidest thing he'd
ever had to do and that was saying a hell
lot, because he'd done a lot of stupid
things all through his life.
He didn't bother to knock on the door to
the guestroom. Instead, he used his wand
to open the door, before holding it out
protectively in front of him and keeping
his grip tight, just in case the girl in the
room decided to use an Avada on him,
even though it seemed highly unlikely.
But he almost fell over in shock when
Loony Lovegood simply smiled at him
pleasantly and nodded. "Hello,
Theodore."
"Uh - "
"I knew I saw you last night in the fight.
And I think I saw Draco too. In fact, I
think he was the one who hexed me.
Would you thank him for me?"
"Are you serious - "
"Hexes are a lot better than death, I
think. I knew you two weren't entirely
bad, despite being Death-Eaters, and I
presume - "
"Okay, stop talking," Theo blurted, when
he finally gathered his wits about him.
He'd never felt quite so overwhelmed
before, and he considered himself one
hell of a conversationalist, but Loony
Lovegood here had somehow left him
speechless. He stared at her for a
moment or two, to which she stared back
calmly, before smiling amicably.
"How are you, Theodore?"
"I told you to fucking stop talking," he
growled, waving his wand and levitating
the tray of healing potions onto the bed.
"Stop talking, and drink these."
She was silent as she drank the potions
and Theo took the time to process the
odd more or less one-sided conversation
that they'd just had. He couldn't even
wrap his head around the fact that she
didn't seem surprised or afraid to see
him, which she should've been.
He was a Death-Eater, for Merlin's sake.
People were supposed to take one look
at him and run away screaming. Either
that or he was losing his touch. He
frowned, and reached up to massage his
forehead briefly.
"Do you have a headache?"
He scowled automatically, flicking a
brief glance at the girl. To his greatest
dismay, she was almost done with the
potions. That meant she'd only start
talking again. "No."
"Would you like to share some of the
potion? I think it's a great pain-reliever -
"
"No, I'm good."
She finished the last bit of her potions
quickly before pushing herself up,
settling back comfortably against the
headboard with the pillow tucked behind
her. Then she smiled serenely at him.
"So how have you been, Theodore?"
"Stop calling me that."
"What? Theodore?"
"Yes. It's just Theo."
"Theo?" She shot him a quizzical look.
"Why not Dora?"
"Would you like to be hexed?"
"No, thank you. But really, why not
Dora?" She insisted earnestly. "It sounds
better than Theo. You know, that's a
nickname for Theodore too."
"It's a nickname for Theodora, you ..."
and then Theo trailed off because he
simply couldn't think of any insult to
fling at her. "You bloody Ravenclaw - "
Her eyebrows rose. "Of course I'm a
Ravenclaw, which house did you think I
was in?"
"For Salazar's sake - " Theo pointed his
wand in her direction, "silen - "
But Theo suddenly found the last
syllable of the word frozen on the tip of
his tongue as he was hit by a body-
binding curse from the back. Draco
strode in, shooting Theo an aggravated
look as he quickly lifted the spell before
turning to Luna.
"Death-Eaters have very little patience,
Lovegood," he told her shortly, and
gestured to Theo. "And this one has
close to none. Try not to use any of your
whimsical insanity on him - he doesn't
appreciate it."
Luna hardly seemed offended, smiling
brightly at Draco instead. "Hello, Draco.
Hermione," she added, glancing past him
and at the girl standing nervously by the
doorway.
Hermione managed a shy wave. "Hi.
How - how're you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm much better. The potions are
working well and Theo and I just had a
lovely conversation."
Theo's mouth fell open. "You're really
weird - "
"Go to work," Draco interrupted,
shooting Theo a flat look when he
hesitated. "Now."
"Fine." Theo gave Luna one last glare
before turning to leave.
On the way out, he passed Hermione,
who couldn't help but let a tiny laugh
spill from her lips. "Bye, Dora."
But unlike the heated reaction Theo had
previously given to Luna, he simply
rolled his eyes and left the room. Luna
watched Hermione curiously. Clearly, a
lot of things had changed since the war
began. Luna was already trying to wrap
her head around the fact that Hermione
was alive, and that she apparently lived
in a house with two Death-Eaters,
Death-Eaters who once upon a time used
to be her arch-nemeses.
She wanted to mull on the matter more,
but her leg began to ache once again and
she reached forward in an attempt to
soothe it. She didn't have to, however,
because Draco had quickly taken several
steps forward, placing the tip of his
wand just above the inflammation.
Immediately, the pain subsided. "Thank
you," she smiled at him, feeling both
relieved by the pain and impressed at his
knowledge of wordless magic at the
same time. "And thank you for hexing me
last night."
Draco's eyebrows shot up.
"You could've killed me. I think it's nice
that you didn't."
Something in her words seemed to have
struck a nerve, and he began to walk
away. "Don't think so highly of me,
Lovegood. You know I would if the
situation called for it."
He headed out of the room, but
Hermione remained, faltering by the
doorway for a few seconds, before
glancing over at Luna.
"He'll be alright," Hermione said,
although her words seemed meant more
for herself than for Luna. She smiled
faintly at the girl on the bed. "Are you
hungry?"
"No," Luna shook her head, before
patting the empty spot next to her. "I'd
much rather talk to you. It's been so long
and I don't even know what you've been
up to."
Hermione felt something wedge itself in
her throat. She wished desperately that
Draco was with her, but he had a
meeting with the Dark Lord, and there
was no one else left in the house.
"I - I'd much rather not," Hermione
choked out, forcing herself to take deep
calming breaths instead. "Why don't you
tell me about yourself?"
If Luna noticed Hermione's evasive
behaviour, she didn't dwell further on it.
She simply nodded and smiled. "Alright.
Won't you take a seat?" She patted the
spot next to her again but Hermione had
other ideas. She dragged over a chair
and sat close to the bed, but maintaining
a good distance between herself and
Luna.
Hermione listened silently as Luna
happily rambled on about the Order and
about the lives they led during the war.
But she hardly registered anything.
Instead, she watched Luna closely,
noticing the way the girl's grey eyes lit
up when she spoke about her friends, or
the sad curve on her lips when she spoke
about the Order.
Hermione felt like she remembered Luna
from a dream a long time ago. Only it
wasn't just a dream - it was the past, and
it involved far too many people and
events that she'd long forgotten. And the
fact that she could not physically wake
up from this dream was all the more
terrifying.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco knew that he was going to relive

his worst nightmare the moment he
stepped into the Malfoy Manor.
He remembered the first time it
happened all too clearly. The white
walls and dark shadows. Bellatrix's
insane eyes and haunting cackles of
laughter. And screams, screams and
more screams.
The only difference now was that neither
his mother nor Hermione were there.
That thought alone was enough to help
him maintain his composure and he
strode into the hall with Antonin
Dolohov and Walden MacNair in tow.
Only the top Death-Eaters were there,
along with the captured members of the
Order.
"Ah, there you are," Bellatrix's shrill
voice demanded his attention, "come,
Draco. I believe there are certain
classmates of yours you may be familiar
with."
She led him over to the prisoners and he
immediately saw that there were fifteen
of them in total, some who were
complete strangers and others whom he
vaguely recognised. Seamus Finnigan
was among them, and when Seamus's
eyes narrowed in recognition, Draco met
his gaze evenly. He stared for a second
or two, before looking at the person
beside him - Susan Bones, whose gaze
was suspiciously vacant. Cho Chang and
Terry Boot were among those captured
as well.
Draco could almost taste the bile rising
up in his throat.
"So?" Bellatrix looked at him eagerly,
and he knew that the other Death-Eaters
were too. "Any of them ring a bell?"
The feeling of déjà vu sent a shiver
running down his spine as he recalled
how his father had once made him do the
same thing.
"It's been awhile, Bellatrix," he found
himself saying. It was the same string of
reluctance, the same evasiveness, the
same cowardice. He hated himself for it.
"I don't remember most faces."
"Doesn't matter," Dolohov said now,
stepping up beside Draco. He seemed
quite eager at the prospect of
interrogating the prisoners. "Let's begin."
"Draco is in charge of this," Bellatrix
retorted sharply, before lunging out to
grab Susan Bones by her hair. Susan let
out a painful cry, and the other prisoners
immediately stepped forward to help,
only to be held back by the other Death-
Eaters.
"Start with her, Draco," Bellatrix said,
holding her wand to Susan's neck. "She
was a snivelling, pathetic mess earlier
and she'd break so pretty."
Draco took one more look at Susan's
blank gaze. And beside Susan, Seamus
Finnigan caught his eyes and shook his
head. A slight, almost invisible
movement, but Draco knew what it
meant. Pansy's spell from the night
before had clearly worked.
So Draco simply shrugged. "She's of no
use to us. Someone used Obliviate on
her."
"You know, sometimes the Cruciatus can
force a person to remember things after
awhile," MacNair commented, from the
side.
Draco wanted nothing more to hurl a
killing curse at MacNair there and then.
He knew now without a doubt that this
had been what the Peverells had done to
Hermione. His jaw clenched, and he
could feel the blood pounding in his
ears.
"I'm not going to waste my time on
someone who may or may not
remember," he said shortly. He glanced
over at Seamus again, and a fleeting look
of mutual understanding passed between
them. "Let's start with you."
Seamus didn't say a word as he stepped
forward. His posture was rigid, features
defiant.
"Let me know when you want to talk
about the fucking Order," Draco told him
calmly, casting a wordless numbing
spell on Seamus, whose eyes flickered
in surprise as the spell hit him. "Until
then - "
He pointed the wand at Seamus, a
sinking feeling of dread and self-loathing
spreading from within. Just more red on
his ledger.
"Crucio."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
"So...Nargles."
Theo shot a look of disbelief at Luna.
The girl had only been there for a day,
but she treated the apartment like she'd
been living there for years, and treated
them like they were her closest friends.
Luna had finally decided she was well
enough to get out of bed sometime in the
late afternoon, and had hobbled into the
living room on a poor foot with
Hermione holding her up. She'd then
spent an hour talking to Blaise and Pansy
about the Order when they'd finally
returned home, until they had to prepare
dinner. And when Theo himself returned
from work, Luna promptly told him
about a Nargle infestation in the Order's
headquarters.
Theo didn't even know what a bloody
Nargle was.
"They're very mischievous creatures,"
Luna added. "Best to keep them at bay."
"How?" Hermione asked curiously.
She'd never quite warmed up to anyone
so quickly after her capture before -
apart from Draco, of course - but Luna
was so fascinating and Hermione
couldn't help but be interested in what
she had to say.
"I used to have a Butterbeer cork
necklace and plum earrings. Those kept
the Nargles away fairly well."
"And where would one get a Butterbeer
cork necklace?"
"Oh, you don't buy them. You make them
-"
Theo rolled his eyes, realising that the
conversation was becoming more
ridiculous by the minute. "For Merlin's
sake, Nargles aren't even real!"
Hermione shot him a firm look. "It's
better to be safe than sorry. What if we
have a Nargle infestation in this
apartment?"
"We wouldn't have a sodding infestation
because they're not real!"
"Well, you thought I was dead - until you
saw me."
He glared at her, before leaning back in
resignation and grumbling under his
breath. Hermione smiled and opened her
mouth to speak, but Draco apparated
back at that moment. His silver eyes
were stormy as they met Hermione's, but
the moment she stood, he dragged his
gaze away and quickly headed into his
room.
Hermione glanced over questioningly at
Theo, who shrugged. Luna wouldn't have
known, of course, but the matching
confusion on Blaise and Pansy's faces as
they stood by the doorway of the kitchen
told her that they didn't have a clue
either.
Without wasting another moment,
Hermione went into Draco's room,
pausing by the doorway when she saw
him. He had his arms braced on the table
and he was leaning against it, deep,
silent shudders wracking through his
body.
He glanced up the moment she shut the
door. The expression on his face was
something close to desperation as he
walked up to her quickly, and wound his
arms around her, pulling her to him
tightly.
"Don't say anything," he pleaded, and
Hermione felt her chest tighten at the
brokenness of his voice. "Just - just let
me - "
And then he seemed incapable of saying
anything more, so she just held him tight,
shifting her head slightly so she could
press a brief kiss to his forehead. He
made something like a low, strangled
sob deep in his throat and buried his
face in her hair. And she held on tight,
because in this war, it was somehow the
one thing she could do best.
24 | aresto

24
a r e s to mo me ntum
Slows or stops target's descent.

The frantic ringing of the telephone

woke Hermione the next morning.
She blinked for a moment or two, feeling
her heart pull when she realised that
Draco's chair was empty and he'd left
without saying goodbye. But then she
quickly pulled herself together,
scrambling for the telephone on the
bedside table.
"Hello?"
"Hermione, is that you?" It was
Andromeda. Her voice sounded weary
and tensed, and Hermione immediately
clutched the phone tighter against her
ear.
"Yes, it's me. Is - is everything alright?"
"On the Order's end? No," Andromeda
readily admitted.
Hermione felt her chest tighten with
worry. She knew that the Death-Eaters
had scored a victory in their attack on
the Order's headquarters, and that Luna
was one of the few lucky escapees.
Judging by Draco's behaviour the night
before, Hermione easily guessed that the
captured Order members weren't fairing
as well.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder if
any of her old friends had been captured
by the Death-Eaters. Even if she didn't
remember them, she worried about their
safety.
"Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Actually, I'm calling to help you,"
Andromeda corrected. "Not you,
particularly, but Draco and his friends."
Hermione swallowed as a nervous fear
began to claw its way through her from
within. "W-what's going to happen?"
"Alright - do listen very carefully,
Hermione. The Order is planning on
fighting back in two weeks' time - "
Hermione's eyes widened. So Draco
was right after all, to predict that the
Order wouldn't be doing anything for at
least a week because they'd be too busy
trying to recover from the aftermath of
their defeat.
" - and they're going to attempt to free
their captured members. They're going to
be sending in their most proficient
fighters, so please let Draco know that
he has to be careful and try not to get
caught in the crossfire."
Hermione understood Andromeda's
sentiments. Draco killing one of her
friends from the Order was just as bad
as him getting killed by one of her
friends, or even worse.
She took a deep breath. "I-I'll let him
know, Andromeda. Thank you for telling
us."
"You're welcome, Hermione,"
Andromeda returned, and the air
suddenly eased when she continued, in a
lighter tone this time, "so, tell me, how
was your Christmas?"
And Hermione smiled, her worries
dissipating for a moment as she told
Andromeda about the Christmas she
spent with the four Slytherins. It was a
memory that left a warm feeling inside
her in the midst of a cold, cruel war, and
Hermione wanted never to forget that.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione left the room a good two

hours later, after a lengthy conversation
with Andromeda and a comforting,
warm bath. She found Blaise and Luna in
the living room, Luna's feet propped up
on the coffee table as Blaise examined
her splinched wound carefully.
"...the Order's very strict about things
like these," Luna was saying, as Blaise
applied more Dittany on her leg.
"Resources are low, you see, and
sometimes we have food rationing.
Otherwise we might not have enough to
go around." She paused and glanced up,
smiling when she saw Hermione
hovering by the doorway of Draco's
room. "Hello, Hermione."
Hermione headed towards them, her lips
tugging upwards when Blaise turned too
and shot her a wide grin by way of
greeting. "How're you feeling today,
Luna?"
"I'm a lot better," Luna returned, even
though she flinched when Blaise gently
prodded the inflamed wound. "What
about you?"
"Er - I'm good," Hermione stammered,
rather thrown-off by Luna's sudden
question. She opened her mouth to ask
Blaise about Draco, but realised
abruptly that it wasn't the best idea with
Luna, a member of the Order, in the same
room. "Blaise - can I speak with you for
a moment?" she asked instead.
Blaise glanced up in surprise, but he
seemed to sense her anxiousness and
quickly nodded. "Sure. Just give me a
second, Red."
Luna stared curiously at Blaise. "Why do
you call Hermione 'Red'? Is that a
Gryffindor joke?"
"No, it's an inside joke. Theo found out
that Hermione blushes a lot so he started
calling her that, and Pansy and I kind of
jumped on the bandwagon."
"Interesting," Luna commented, sounding
rather amused. "Back during Hogwarts
days, some of us used to call her
'Mione."
Hermione cringed at the unfamiliar
nickname, but felt curious nonetheless. It
was interesting to hear bits and pieces
about her past life. Sometimes it felt like
an uncanny feeling, that of déjà vu; while
at other times it almost seemed as though
she were looking at a stranger's life
altogether.
"If Theo were here, he'd call that level
of affection appalling," Blaise replied,
with a chuckle. He finished up
bandaging Luna's leg, and stood up. "Try
not to move too much. We'll check on
you in a few hours to change the
bandages."
Luna nodded and settled back against the
chair. "Thank you, Blaise."
"Feel better soon, Luna."
"Thanks, Hermione."
Hermione gave a weak parting wave to
Luna before following Blaise into the
kitchen. He cast a muffling charm on the
room before turning to her. "What's up,
Red?"
"It's about Draco," Hermione began,
shuffling uneasily from one foot to the
other as she leaned against the counter.
"Is everything alright with him?"
Blaise let out a troubled sigh. He poured
himself a cup of tea, along with another
for Hermione and handed it to her. "He
didn't tell you anything, huh?"
"No - not exactly," she acceded,
remembering how Draco had held on to
her and told her not to say anything. It
was different this time - Draco usually
clung on to her words like they meant
something to him, but he'd refused any
this time round, as if he'd done
something terrible and didn't deserve to
be comforted.
"He didn't tell us anything either," Blaise
said flatly. "He didn't even speak to any
of us before he left for work this
morning. But Theo suspects that it has
something to do with the Order."
Hermione frowned, wondering if Draco
had already heard the latest about the
Order. "How so?"
"Well, the Dark Lord made us capture
the remaining members instead of killing
them off, remember?"
A fleeting look of guilt flashed in
Blaise's eyes and Hermione nodded
hesitantly, wondering if he was thinking
about that night when Theo had told him
that being a prisoner during a war was
far worse than being killed in one.
"Anyway, as head Death-Eater, Draco's
usually in charge of interrogating the
most important information. And - well,
the main method of getting information
out of prisoners is through the Cruciatus,
so..."
Blaise seemed incapable of continuing
but he didn't have to - Hermione
understood perfectly. It meant that he had
to torture the Order members, some of
which were most likely people he knew
back during Hogwarts days. Hermione
began to wonder if Neville Longbottom
or Harry Potter were any of the members
Draco had to torture, and felt her chest
tighten at the mere thought of that.
"I blame myself and Pansy for it,
mostly," Blaise said, after a long pause.
"If we'd stuck to the plan and - and
killed, unthinkingly, maybe it'd lessen so
much of the suffering they'd have to go
through now."
"Well - at least they're still alive,"
Hermione said optimistically,
remembering how Andromeda had told
her about the Order's plan earlier that
morning. She just hoped that the Order
would embark on their rescue mission
before it was all too late.
But Blaise didn't seem to hear her, and
his voice was thick with self-reproach
as he continued, "we just didn't think
about the aftermath, that they'd be
tortured and that Draco would have to be
the one doing the torturing."
Hermione fell silent. She knew that
Draco, as a Death-Eater, had sunk to the
lowest of the low. He'd tortured
prisoners and taken too many lives to
count. But he was also good, because so
long as he had a conscience and tried to
fight for a war that seemed never to end
- then he was good because he wasn't
entirely lost.
Right?
There were times when the war was so
morally ambiguous that, just like Draco,
she didn't know what she believed in
anymore.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco found the rest of his flatmates in

the guest room that evening. Hermione
was mending the rest of Luna's bruises,
and Theo was dozing off in the armchair,
while the other two were listening
intently as Luna told them about the
Order.
Hermione was the first to spot him, and
she immediately jumped up, excused
herself and followed him into their
room. "Everything alright, Draco?"
Something in her voice made him pause,
and he turned to look at her warily.
"Theo told you about - "
"Blaise," she confessed. "He didn't mean
to; I asked him to."
And while a part of him was irked that
her impression of him simply had to be
tainted, a more rational part of him knew
that what he did as a Death-Eater
couldn't be kept hidden forever, and it
was a lot easier that she knew so she'd
no longer think the world of him.
Because, frankly, he didn't deserve it.
"MacNair took over today," he said
flippantly, shrugging out of his suit jacket
and going into the bathroom to wash his
hands. Thoroughly, so he'd be rid of all
the bloodstains, even though some
seemed permanently etched into his skin.
"And Bellatrix. I guess I should be
fucking grateful to them."
Hermione didn't reply. She simply
waited until he came back out from the
bathroom before she wrapped her arms
around him. After a moment or two, his
arms latched around her, pulling her
flush against him. His grip was too tight
- it always was, as though he was
terrified to lose her and he didn't know
that she was just as terrified to lose him.
"Andromeda called today," Hermione
said softly, after a while.
"What did she say?"
"She said that - that the Order was
planning on fighting back in two weeks'
time."
Draco pulled back, a frown slipping
onto his face as he stared at her. "What?"
"She said you might want to watch your
back. In case - you get caught in the
crossfire. The Order's sending in some
of their best fighters and - and she thinks
it's best if you and the others stay away."
But before Draco could reply, the door
suddenly opened with a click and Theo
barged in, an expression of incredulity
on his face. "The Order is fighting
back?"
The look on Draco's face grew
thunderous. "For Merlin's sake, Theo - "
"So, what, they finally grew some
balls?" Theo ran an exasperated hand
through his hair before glaring at the two
of them. "And you weren't going to tell
us? I thought we shared everything - "
"I just found out a few seconds before
you did," Draco growled, cutting him off
mid-rant. "I was going to tell you
anyway, so just calm down."
Theo paused, glancing sheepishly at
Draco's annoyed expression, before
looking at Hermione's amused one. He
flushed. "Oh."
"And why the hell were you
eavesdropping into our conversation?"
Theo rolled his eyes. "I wasn't
eavesdropping. I was going to knock on
your bloody door because I wanted to
borrow a book and just happened to
overhear, that's all." His lips suddenly
curled upwards in a mischievous smirk
and his eyes glinted. "I was actually
hoping to hear some dirty talk. Don't
disappoint me next time, alright, Red?"
Hermione promptly flushed.
And Draco shot him another deadly
look. "What do you want, Theo?"
He shrugged, and pushed himself up on
the desk, staring curiously at the two of
them. "I want to know if it's true - what
you said about the Order."
"What about the Order?" A familiar
voice sounded by the doorway.
Blaise.
And it wasn't just Blaise. Draco's eyes
narrowed when he realised that not only
had Blaise overheard, but so had Pansy
and Luna, who were standing behind him
with matching curious looks on their
faces.
"Apparently, the Order's finally fighting
back," Theo told them. "And, apparently,
it's best if we stay away because they're
sending in some of their best fighters.
That's all I managed to hear," he gestured
towards Draco and Hermione as a sign
for them to continue, but Draco simply
glared back.
"And they're going to attempt to free
their members," Hermione added, her
voice small. "In - in two weeks. That's
all we know."
The pause that followed was prolonged
and uncertain. Blaise was the first to
break it, inching farther into the room
and hitching himself up onto the table
next to Theo. "Where'd you get this
information from?" He asked Hermione,
who glanced unsurely at Draco.
"From a reliable source. We can trust the
person," Draco returned vaguely, his
voice carefully flat as he regarded
Blaise with an unreadable, guarded
expression that made Hermione instantly
curious.
And her curiosity was satisfied mere
seconds later, when Blaise's face began
to light up with an inexplicable sort of
relief. "Are you serious?"
Draco stiffened. "Zabini - "
"Draco, you knew I was going to suggest
this sooner or later. It's the perfect
opportunity, what with the Order
returning in full force - "
"Hardly any force - "
" - it's better than nothing. They're
fighting again and that's good enough for
me. You know that this wasn't a
permanent thing - not for me, at least,
and that - "
"Hold on," Theo interrupted, looking
more confused by the second as he
glanced between Draco and Blaise.
"What the hell are you two going on
about?"
Blaise paused, casting a brief look at
Draco, who simply sat down on his bed
in resignation. "I'm saying," Blaise
began, slowly, carefully, because there
was really no easy, quick way to break
the news. "I think we should defect to the
Order."
The room was silent enough to hear a
pin drop. Hermione found her head
reeling with the sudden turn of events.
She knew all along that among the four
Slytherins, Blaise was the one with the
biggest moral compass, and that as the
Death-Eater with the softest of hearts,
he'd been struggling all this while.
But to actually defect to the Order?
Hermione wanted to support Blaise, but
it honestly seemed like a death wish,
particularly for someone in his position.
Theo was the first to break the stunned
silence, staring at Blaise like he'd just
sprouted three heads. "Are you serious?"
"I mean it, Theo. It's the perfect time! We
can finally meet the Order, return Luna to
them and even help the Order - "
"Okay, can someone check him for the
Imperius curse?"
"Actually," Luna cut in, her voice lilting
and cheerful, "I think it's a splendid
idea."
Theo paused to shoot her a glare. "Yes,
it would be splendid. Splendid to have
Blaise become a traitor to the Dark
Lord, not to mention having a bounty put
on his head with Snatchers trailing his
every move, Dementors ready to suck
the life out of him, and his friends bound
by their Death-Eater duties to hunt him
down."
"We're not going to hunt him down,"
Pansy interjected.
"So you agree, then? That Blaise's idea
is bloody insane?"
"No," Pansy stepped into the room, a
placid look on her face as she looped
her arm through Blaise's. "I'm defecting
too. I think we all should - all four of us.
You'll come too, Hermione."
Theo's mouth actually fell open in horror
this time and Hermione couldn't help the
startled gasp that spilled from her lips.
Only Luna seemed pleased, while Draco
didn't look surprised at all. And
Hermione wondered if perhaps Draco
had already anticipated that this day was
coming - and it was all just a matter of
when.
"Have I fallen through a fucking rabbit
hole?" Theo shouted, sounding utterly
appalled, and Hermione was sure that if
she weren't so alarmed, she would've
laughed at Theo's reaction. "What's
wrong with the both of you?"
Luna stepped forward. "They just want
to help - "
"Stay out of this, Loony - "
"You know," Blaise began to sound
annoyed now, "it would be nice if you
could at least be a little supportive,
Theo. I thought we were in this
together."
"You are asking a lot out of me and
Draco," Theo snarled, now sounding
well and truly pissed. "It's not good
enough that the both of you defect - now
you want Draco and me to defect as
well? Draco's the top Death-Eater, he'll
be at the top of the Dark Lord's hit list if
he defected."
Theo's words sent a shiver of dread
down Hermione's spine, and she glanced
over at Draco. But he was sitting calmly,
watching the three Death-Eaters and
Luna with a thoughtful, indifferent
expression. Hermione slipped her hand
into his, and he cast a brief glance her
way, his lips curling in a fleeting smirk
before looking back at them.
"...you've forgotten that the Order is in
bloody shambles right now," Theo was
saying, as Hermione refocused on their
conversation. "Let's say we manage to
find them, do you honestly think they'd
willingly let us fight on the same side as
them, let alone hide us from the other
Death-Eaters?"
"I'm sure something can be arranged,"
said Luna, "I'll let the Order know that
you aren't a bad lot."
Blaise smiled. "See? Luna's going to put
in a good word for us. We'll be fine."
"That is the least of our troubles. You
know what - " and Theo paused abruptly,
casting a wary glance at Luna.
Draco followed his gaze and finally
spoke. "Lovegood, could you leave us
alone for a moment?"
"Alright," Luna returned easily, and
slowly hobbled out of the room. "I do
hope you choose to defect, though. It
would be nice to have some Death-
Eaters on our side."
"Bugger off, Loony - " Theo began, only
to subside when Blaise jabbed him with
his elbow.
When Luna had left, Pansy went over to
shut the door, casting a muffling charm
on the room before turning back to Theo.
She folded her arms across her chest as
her gaze turned challenging. "You were
saying?"
Theo glared. "I was saying that this isn't
what 17-65's supposed to be. We wreck
havoc from within, we destroy the Dark
Lord's inner circle by finding out
information or by preventing information
from passing through - "
"Things change," Blaise fired back.
"With the Dark Lord knowing about the
Order's existence, they're going to need
all the help they can get."
"Do you even comprehend the
consequences if we actually chose to
defect? Since when did you two start
harbouring these kind of ideas that'll
only get you bloody killed?"
"Since always!" Pansy cried, in
exasperation. And she sounded so
aggravated that Theo stopped mid-rant to
stare at her in surprise. She sighed, and
looked pleadingly at both Theo and
Draco. "I am tired of being in a war that
never seems to end," she said, her voice
choked and weary. "I am tired of waking
up every bloody morning and knowing
that I'm going to have to use the
Cruciatus or the Avada on someone. I am
tired of numbing myself with spells and
potions just so I can continue to do
horrible things without feeling guilty."
She paused to take a deep breath.
"Blaise and I know how this ends," she
continued, sounding far calmer this time.
"We go down fighting, whatever the
outcome of the war is. But since we're
going down fighting, we'd like to at least
fight on the side of good. Just so we
don't forget what goodness is, because in
this war, it's so easy to forget
sometimes."
"Exactly what she said," Blaise wrapped
his arms around Pansy's waist, pressing
a brief kiss to her cheek. "So are you
two with us?"
There was a glimmer of hope in Blaise's
eyes as he waited. Theo stared at them
for a long moment before letting out a
sigh. "I'm with Draco," he said at last,
before glancing at his friend. "Mate?"
Draco's gaze sharpened and he slowly
got to his feet. "It's far too great a risk,"
his voice was flat, the expression in his
eyes carefully blank. "And in a war like
this, I'm not sure if we can afford to take
that risk."
"What're you saying?" Pansy couldn't
quite mask the disappointment as she
stared at Draco, who simply shrugged
and didn't say anything else. She looked
up at Blaise, who seemed equally as
disappointed as she was. "We should
probably go."
She and Blaise left the room and Theo,
after a moment's hesitation, turned to go
too. He paused briefly before he left to
shoot a quick wink at Hermione. "See
you tomorrow, Red."
Hermione smiled; glad to see at at least
one person wasn't thoroughly shaken up
after the heated debate. "Goodnight,
Theo."
He grinned and shut the door behind him.
And then all was silent in the room once
more. Their earlier shouting was still
resonating in Hermione's ears, and she
rather felt like an earthquake had just
swept through the room, leaving nothing
but a mass of destruction and uncertainty
in its wake.
She turned to Draco, taking a deep
breath before asking tentatively, "what
are you going to do?"
He looked at her in amusement. "Don't
know, Granger. Didn't you notice my
evasiveness earlier?"
"I-I thought you were just deep in
thought."
"No, I was fucking evading," he smirked
briefly before falling back against the
pillow, letting out a deep sigh and
closing his eyes. "What do you think I
should do, Granger?"
Hermione stared at him in surprise. His
eyes were shut, so she couldn't detect the
expression in them and his face was
calm as ever. But there was a certain
hesitation in his voice, like he was just
as lost as she was.
"I-I don't know," she said softly,
reaching down to thread her fingers
through his. "I think you're safest here, in
this apartment," she admitted, "and not
with the Order. I just want you to be
safe."
His eyes opened slowly and they were a
silvery dark in the moonlit room as he
watched her with an expression she
couldn't quite decipher. "Come here," he
murmured, reaching up to grasp her arm
firmly, tugging her down onto the bed
next to him.
She readily obliged, curling up against
him and revelling in the way his arm
wrapped securely around her waist.
"Honestly - it doesn't matter where you
go. Just take me with you," she told him.
"I'm a part of this war now just as much
as you are."
He didn't say anything. But a moment
later, he shifted, pressing his lips gently
to her forehead. She shut her eyes,
feeling the steady thrum of his heart
beneath her cheek and wondering what
the future held in store for them.
25 | reducto

25
r educto
Destroys solid objects.

The tension in the kitchen was palpable

the next morning. Hermione had found
Luna sitting at the table talking
animatedly to Blaise and Pansy about the
Order, while Theo was sitting on the
counter, watching them with a guarded,
almost hostile expression on his face.
Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for
Theo, who was clearly the odd one out
in this debate, so after pouring herself a
cup of tea, she pushed herself up on the
counter next to Theo. He shot her a brief
grin and she smiled back, pleased to find
that she was comfortable just sitting next
to him.
Some minutes later, Draco entered the
kitchen, his blond hair wet from his
shower and falling haphazardly into his
eyes. He brushed an impatient hand
through his hair, pausing when he
noticed the evident tension all round.
Everyone had turned to look at him
expectantly, and the hopeful expressions
on Blaise and Pansy's faces were
unmistakable.
"Granger," he glanced over at Hermione,
who immediately climbed off the
counter. "Could you help Lovegood into
the room? The four of us have some
things to discuss."
Hermione quickly nodded, going over to
help Luna to her feet. After athe two
girls had disappeared into the guest
room, Draco cast a silent muffling charm
on the kitchen and turned to the other
three Slytherins.
"I once said that we can't fall apart," he
began flatly, and the resignation in his
voice was sufficient for Blaise and
Pansy to brighten. "I think we're better
off sticking together. Sorry, Theo,"
Draco added, casting a brief, apologetic
look at his friend.
Theo simply shrugged. He quite guessed
that this was the outcome, because
Blaise and Pansy had been so insistent
on their decision that he knew Draco
would have no choice but to go along
with them.
"But we're going to defect my way,"
Draco continued, and Theo smirked
now, because it was just classic,
arrogant Draco Malfoy and the world
was now righted on its axis once again.
Pansy and Blaise also seemed amused as
they stared at him. "Alright," Blaise
replied good-naturedly, "what do you
suggest we do?"
"We'll have to destroy this place," Draco
replied promptly, "so that no one
discovers what we've been doing this
past three years. We'll have to camp
somewhere else in the meantime."
His words were met with stunned
silence.
Theo slowly recovered, but his
expression was still laced with
incredulity. "Are you fucking serious?"
Draco shot him a sardonic look. "Do I
look like I'm fucking joking?"
"But - but this is our home," Pansy said,
sounding well and truly distressed.
"You're talking about leaving everything
- and I do mean everything, all the
memories and all the fun we've had
behind, and it's just - "
"Do you want to defect, or not?"
Pansy quickly subsided. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Draco shook his head, "I hate
this as much as you do, but it's the safest
option. We have to destroy this place,
that's one. The second thing is that we
can't all defect at once. It's far too
suspicious. I don't want us to be fucking
killed before we can even contact the
Order."
"Actually," Blaise cut in, setting down
his mug of tea, "I think I have a
suggestion. How about Pansy and I
defect - while you and Theo find some
other more obscure way around it?"
Draco began to frown, and Blaise hastily
explained, "this is something the two of
us chose to do. You and Theo are just
going along with it. So we should bear
the consequences of our decision in full
force."
Pansy nodded in agreement. Draco
mulled over Blaise's words, his mind
rapidly searching for an alternative
solution based on Blaise's suggestion.
"Alright," he acknowledged, at last.
"You two can defect, and you two can do
it on the day the Order attacks us. And
Theo and I will somehow allow
ourselves to be captured by the Order."
"What?"
Draco smirked at the horrified look on
Theo's face. "It's not that fucking
difficult, Theo. You just don't fight back
or block any spells."
"What if they shoot an Avada at me?"
Theo yelped, glaring daggers at Draco.
"Am I supposed to just stand still and let
them?"
"Yes."
"Fuck you, Draco - "
"They don't use killing curses, Theo,"
Blaise cut in, sounding rather amused.
Theo turned to him in confusion, and he
chuckled. "Didn't you notice when you
fought the Order the other night? They
don't use any of the Unforgivables."
"Harry didn't even use an Avada on the
Dark Lord during the battle of
Hogwarts," Pansy added. "Remember?
He used a stupid Expelliarmus.
Practically child's play compared to the
killing curse."
Theo glared when he realised that he'd
been well and truly fooled. He turned to
Draco, whose eyes were gleaming. "And
you knew that?"
Draco shrugged and grabbed the mug of
tea that Blaise had poured for him. "I
didn't survive three years just for the
Order to kill me," he smirked as he
headed out of the kitchen, leaving Theo
staring after him in aggravation.
"Maybe I would," Theo muttered under
his breath, reaching for his wand and
casting a random, harmless jinx at
Draco's departing figure.
Only to have Draco easily deflect it
without even having to glance over his
shoulder. Theo groaned in defeat. As
usual.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Luna couldn't help but think that in all the
years she'd known Hermione, she'd
never seen the girl quite so calm before.
She watched curiously as the brunette
slowly replaced a new bandage her
splinched wound, before using her wand
to ease the swelling of other bruises.
Hermione was completely focused in her
task - a characteristic that Luna found
reminiscent of the old Hermione - but the
war had taken away some of her
overeager, easily-excitable teenage
charm and replaced it with something
more mellow. Luna couldn't place a
finger on it, but she thought that
Hermione seemed far more at ease now
than she ever was.
"Can I ask you something?" Luna began,
when curiosity finally got the better of
her.
Hermione glanced up in surprise,
uncertainty flickering momentarily
across her face before she nodded.
"Sure."
"Do you want to go back to the Order?"
Hermione paused. A second or two
ticked by before she slowly got to her
feet, setting the gauze aside on the table.
"I-I don't know, Luna."
"Honestly?"
"Honestly?" Hermione echoed, a faint
smile flitting across her lips. "Honestly -
no," she admitted, settling down on the
bed beside Luna. "I-I want to stay here
with the others."
"But what about Harry and Ron? They
really miss you, Hermione."
"If - if Draco decides to defect to the
Order - then I'll go with him," she
replied instead. She hastily picked up
her wand and the tray empty phials,
heading out of the room before Luna
could ask another question. "Have a
good rest, Luna."
"Thanks, 'Mione."
It wasn't until Hermione had firmly shut
the door to Luna's room when she finally
allowed herself to take a deep,
shuddering breath. Harry Potter and
Ronald Weasley missed her. They still
remembered her. But just thinking about
them made her head ache painfully, and
the guilt she felt towards not being able
to remember them was crushing.
She headed back into Draco's room, her
worries quickly dissipating when she
saw Draco on the telephone. He spotted
her immediately and said a quick
goodbye before hanging up the phone.
"Was that Andromeda?"
He nodded and approached her with
something akin to caution. "Granger - "
his voice was low and guarded, " -
we're going to defect."
Hermione felt the oxygen rush out of her
lungs. "All of us?"
"It's - " and Draco closed his eyes
briefly, like the words were too difficult
to say, and when he opened them again,
they were almost obsidian. " - it's too
difficult to go our separate ways. Much
as Theo and I wouldn't like to, Pansy and
Blaise are fucking set on it. But as for
you," he swallowed, "you don't have to
join us, Granger. I called Andromeda,
and she says it's okay for you to stay
with her - "
"Wait," Hermione's throat felt strangely
dry. "You - you don't want me to go with
you?"
"No, it's not that." Draco returned
quickly. "It's just going to be dangerous.
This apartment has to be destroyed, and
we're going to have to camp out
somewhere in Godric's Hollow. I need
you to be safe, Granger."
Hermione allowed a soft smile to curve
her lips as she walked over to him. And
when she slid her arms around his waist,
he quickly wrapped his around her
shoulders, pulling her close. "I told you
before," she whispered, knowing that her
voice was barely loud enough for him to
hear, "I feel safest with you."
He didn't reply for a long while, and
when he spoke, his voice was quiet.
"Together, then?"
Her smile widened. "Together."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The first time Hermione properly went

into the inventory was also the last time
she ever saw it. It was on one of those
lazy afternoons where Draco was out on
a mission, while Blaise and Theo were
getting more supplies from the Black
Market. Luna was resting in the living
room, and Pansy had asked Hermione if
she'd help her clear out the inventory.
Moving seemed hardest on Pansy, who
was clearly given to sentimentality
despite her tough shell, and she was the
most reluctant to go.
"I know I should say that time flies,"
Pansy said, as she carried down the
racks of phials for them to sort out, "but
honestly, these three years have felt like
three lifetimes. Maybe that's why I'm not
ready to leave this place."
Hermione smiled. "I've only lived here
for several months and - and I'm still not
ready to leave either."
Pansy looked around the room and
stifled a sigh. "It kind of grows on you,
doesn't it?" Hermione nodded, and Pansy
sat down cross-legged on the floor,
letting her lips curl in a nostalgic smile.
"I remember when we moved into this
apartment - we honestly thought that we
wouldn't survive a week living
together."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We were so different, you see.
Draco thought we were all a lost cause, I
thought Theo was an immature wank,
and Blaise thought I was a bitch - "
Hermione's eyebrows shot up and Pansy
shook her head in mirth. " - can't blame
him; I guess I tend to give off that vibe."
"No, you don't."
"Sure I do. You hated me back during
Hogwarts days, remember?" Pansy shot
her a pointed look and Hermione
blushed.
"I-I do apologise - "
"No, it's fine. I thought you were
insufferable too," Pansy grinned, before
returning her attention back to the phials,
keeping the empty ones in a different
bag. "Anyway, this apartment was
originally Draco's. He'd been living here
alone after the Dark Lord took over the
Malfoy Manor. But Theo'd crash here
often because his Dad had died and he
lived alone too, and after Draco - " she
paused briefly, a sudden, pained
expression crossing her features
fleetingly, " - after Draco helped me, I
moved in. Blaise was the last. And when
Blaise moved in, that's when Draco
started 17-65."
Hermione's mind was reeling. She hadn't
realised that Theo's father had died, or
that this was originally Draco's
apartment. It was fascinating that all
three of the Slytherins came together
because of Draco and that he was the
one who had begun it all.
Pansy let a tiny smile curve her lips.
"Sometimes, when we're all together,
having a stupid meal or just talking, I
forget that we're fighting a war. I just let
myself spiral back to the past and for a
moment or two, it seems like we're back
in the Slytherin dungeon, and Theo's
making some idiotic comment, and
Blaise is being his usual prim and
proper self, and Draco's being utterly
arrogant and condescending."
Hermione smiled to herself. Draco being
arrogant and condescending was not
something she'd heard of for the first
time. In fact, she'd had first-hand
experience of it.
"I knew that I was in love with Blaise
when I saw him sorting out memory
phials in this room," Pansy continued,
her eyes softening as she glanced round
the room.
"Really?"
"It was two years ago. And we were
talking about the war and how much we
wanted it to end - and it all just fell into
place. But Blaise and I - we had the
same goals, the same reason to fight, the
same reason to live each day like it's our
last. And I think that in a war, that's a
good enough reason as any to fall in
love."
"I thought you were together for the sex,"
came a familiar voice by the doorway. "I
didn't know you were in love."
Hermione and Pansy immediately
whirled round, and Pansy glared when
she realised that Theo was leaning
against the frame of the door, watching
them in thinly-veiled amusement.
"Frankly," Pansy began dryly, "if I was
really in it for the sex, don't you think I
would've picked Draco instead - " But
she stopped abruptly when someone else
stepped up next to Theo, her mouth
falling open in surprise. "Hey, baby, I
didn't realise you were - "
"You know," Blaise cut her off, sounding
thoroughly bemused. "I should be
offended, but you're right."
"What?" Theo frowned. "Why am I not
the best one at sex?"
And Pansy groaned loudly when Draco
came into view, a knowing glint in his
eye. "Because the walls are bloody thin,
remember?" He smirked at Theo, "you
hit all time low records with - "
"That was one time!" Theo yelped,
shooting a horrified glance at Hermione
and Pansy, both of whom were staring at
him with blatant curiosity. "It's not even
counted!"
"It is when the girl came out of the room
laughing," Blaise pointed out.
"Oh, I remember that," Pansy chimed in,
her lips stretched wide in a mocking
grin. "The girl tried to get Draco to shag
her right after that - "
"Which I didn't," Draco interrupted
adamantly, and Pansy's eyes gleamed
when she saw Draco shoot a brief wary
glance at Hermione, "I didn't."
But Hermione was far too fascinated by
the conversation to even notice, and a
moment later, she was staring up at Theo
with a rarely-seen teasing glint in her
eyes. "So - what was the all time low
record, Theo?"
"One fucking hour and - "
"It was thirty seconds," Blaise said,
laughing when Theo yelled in horror,
"because that's how long we heard the
bed squeaking."
"We were on the floor for most of it - "
"Sure, Theo, whatever helps you sleep at
night."
"Fuck you, Blaise."
Draco smirked. "With your record? I
don't think Blaise would want to."
Hermione let a giggle slip past her lips
as the other three Slytherins laughed, but
quickly sobered up when she saw Theo
blush bright red. She climbed to her feet,
heading straight for the paper bag in
Theo's hand. "Did you get the apples?"
Theo stopped scowling as his eyes lit
up. "Yeah," he grinned and grabbed an
apple from the bag, tossing it to her.
"Come on."
Blaise's eyes narrowed as he watched
the two of them head off to the living
room. "Are you two going to play the
stupid apple game again?"
"It's not stupid," Theo called over his
shoulder. "Heads' up, Loony," he tossed
another apple to the blond-haired witch
sitting on the sofa. "You up for a game?"
"Like quidditch?"
"Fuck no."
"Oh, then alright," Luna smiled and
climbed to her feet. "I was never
particularly good at quidditch anyway."
"Yeah, count me in too," Pansy said, as
she and Blaise took their positions next
to Theo. "Hogwarts should've had this
game. It's far more exciting than
quidditch."
Draco's lips curled into a smirk as he
watched them from the other end of the
room. "You're just saying that because
you're fucking shite at quidditch," he
drawled, "all of you were. Yes, you too,
Granger," he added teasingly, when
Hermione shot him a questioning look.
"You couldn't even stay on a bloody
broom."
She rolled her eyes, even as a reluctant
smile tugged at her lips. "Grab an apple
and get over here, Draco."
He raised his eyebrows at her
unexpected command. But when her
smile widened, he gave up and went to
her, catching the apple Theo threw at
him along the way.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The apartment seemed like a foreign

place altogether when the day came for
them to leave. Theo was the last to finish
packing, which wasn't that much of a
surprise, and the others were waiting in
the living room with their bags as Draco
helped Theo with the last of his things,
while Hermione was still back in
Draco's room.
"So, Luna," Blaise said, as he and Pansy
sat on the sofa next to the blond-haired
witch. "Are you excited to go back to the
Order?"
Luna smiled. "Very. I'll miss this place,
though. I quite like it; although I do miss
the Moon Frogs back at the Order's base
too."
Pansy shot her a strange look, but
quickly dismissed that as one of Luna's
many peculiarities. She laced her fingers
through Blaise's, leaning her head
against his shoulder. "I can't believe
we're going to destroy this place."
"I know," Blaise replied rather
absentmindedly, before reaching for one
of the bags on the floor. "You know
what? We should take a picture
together."
Pansy grinned at him. "Oh, brilliant idea.
Hermione?" She called, looking over at
the shut door of Draco's room. "Are you
ready?"
"Almost!"
Hermione's voice was muffled from
inside the room. After a few minutes, the
door opened and she stepped out;
looking almost shy and hesitant in a red
coat that Pansy had earlier Transfigured
for her.
She picked anxiously at the hem of her
coat sleeve and glanced over at them.
"How - how do I look?"
"Disturbingly Gryffindor​," came Theo's
voice as he stepped out of his room,
grunting as he lugged a huge bag that
seemed twice his weight. Draco
followed him, casting a quick extension
charm on the bag to lighten its weight
and shrink its size.
"Thanks, mate," Theo said, before
turning back to Hermione. "Yeah, we're
not going to have a Gryffindor-pride
parade along the streets - I forbid it." He
pointed his wand at her. "Colovaria."
Immediately, Hermione's coat darkened
to an obscure shade of emerald green.
She laughed, thoroughly fascinated by
yet another spell, but Pansy rolled her
eyes. "Yes, and now we have a
Slytherin-pride parade on the streets."
"Better than a fucking Gryffindor one,"
Theo grinned, before turning to Blaise.
"By the way, what was that I heard about
taking a bloody picture? You know I hate
taking pictures."
"Only because you look fucking ugly in
them," Draco commented dryly, raising
his eyebrows when Hermione sent a
disapproving frown his way. "What? He
does!"
"It's true. I do. But at least I don't look
fucking ugly all the time like the rest of
you," Theo added wickedly.
Hardly fazed, Blaise got up with his
camera in hand. "Mm, well, at least I can
last longer than thirty seconds."
Pansy's hand immediately shot up. "I can
vouch for that!"
Theo scowled as Blaise gave him a
triumphant smirk. With his wand, Blaise
hovered the camera in mid-air and
waved the others over. "Come on, let's
take a picture."
Hermione went over to help Luna up, but
the girl didn't need any. Her splinched
wound had healed wonderfully over the
past few days, and she no longer walked
with a limp. Careful not to disturb the
group's dynamics, Luna made sure that
she stood at the side next to Hermione,
who was next to Draco, who was next to
Pansy, who was next to Blaise. Only
Theo stood at the other end of the room,
glaring at them and adamantly refusing to
come over.
"Theo!" Pansy rolled her eyes as he
continued to stand there unmoving. "Get
your arse over here right now!"
"No, nothing you say can - "
"Theo," Hermione's voice was soft and
pleading. "It's our last day here."
He stared at her for a moment, his firm
resolve slowly ebbing away and, after
awhile, he sighed in defeat and walked
over to her. "Fine."
Hermione's smile widened and she
pulled Luna closer to her so that Theo
could stand on the Luna's other side. She
slipped her hand through Draco's, and he
shot her a brief glance, his lips curling
into a half-smirk.
And as she stared into the camera and
smiled, she thought about all the months
she'd spent with the four Slytherins in the
apartment, and how it was the happiest
she'd been in the past three years.
Somehow, it made all the bad things that
had happen worth it. And she wished for
nothing to ever change.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Draco and Hermione were the last to
leave the house.
The others had headed down the stairs
first, with their bags in tow. Pansy, in
particular, had wanted to leave because
she couldn't bear the thought of seeing
the apartment destroyed. And even Theo,
who claimed to have no sentiment
whatsoever, looked a little choked up
when he glanced around the place for
one last time.
Hermione understood why they felt that
way. It was their home, and in a war,
there weren't many places you could
actually call home.
And if the war ever ended - then what
next? This was no longer a place they
could come back to.
She waited for Draco in the living room
as he destroyed the furniture in the other
rooms one by one. And she realised that
this was possibly hitting Draco the
hardest, because this was his real home,
a place where he'd lived in long before
any of them ever did.
Draco finally came out of their room, his
face impassive as usual as he walked up
to her. She took a deep breath, looking
around the living room and trying to
memorise the days they'd spent in this
place.
She remembered the earliest days. Her
countless nightmares. She remembered
getting better. Leaving the room for the
first time. Learning about 17-65.
Meeting Luna. Telephone calls with
Andromeda. Afternoon talks with Pansy.
Learning healing spells from Blaise.
Playing Theo's apple game. Spending
Christmas with the Slytherins.
And Draco. Every single bit of her
memory of this place involved Draco.
Draco helping her that first night and
promising to keep her safe. Waiting for
Draco to return. Healing Draco when he
was hurt. Draco keeping his distance.
Draco kissing her for the first time.
Kissing Draco for the second time.
Talking to him, listening to him, staring
into the silence with him.
She wasn't sad about leaving this place
behind, not really.
She was sad about leaving the memories
of the people in this place behind.
"Granger?" Draco's voice interrupted
her thoughts, and she glanced up at him.
He was staring at her with a vaguely
concerned expression. "You alright?"
She smiled faintly. "Do you think we
could come back to see this place? After
the war?"
His gaze darkened into something
unreadable. "We?"
"Yes," she frowned. "You and me. Un-
unless you don't want to - "
But the words had barely left her lips
when he lowered his head and kissed
her. He nipped at her lips in a familiarity
that made her stomach tighten with
delicious pleasure, and she pushed
herself up on the tips of her toes, looping
her arms around his neck to pull him
closer. Her unexpected eagerness
wrenched a low groan from him, and he
kissed her harder, his lips demanding
and fervent on hers in a way that was
both mind-numbing and electrifying all
at once.
Hermione thought if there was another
memory she'd like to add to her
collection - it was this. Draco Malfoy
kissing her in an empty apartment like
nothing else mattered at that moment but
them.
He finally dragged away; his lips
flushed red and eyes liquid silver. And
then he smiled, one of his rare, soft
smiles that made her heart stutter. "We
should go."
She nodded and fell a step back. He
picked up their bags, setting it by the
doorway and signalling for her to wait
while he demolished the last of the
house - the living room. She didn't
watch. She couldn't bear to. So instead
she heard the faint sounds of things being
crushed and obliterated, and when
Draco stepped out, the tip of his wand
was singed red.
"Is it gone?" she breathed, wondering
why the thought of there not being a
home any longer left a gnawing hole
inside of her.
"Not quite," he drew out the telephone
that he'd hidden behind him. Her eyes lit
up. "Thought you might like that, even
though your little muggle invention's
quite useless now."
Hermione smiled and quickly opened
her bag, stuffing the telephone in along
with her other muggle books and stolen
jumpers from Draco. She picked up her
bag, slinging it on her shoulders, along
with the other bag of healing potions that
Blaise and Pansy had given her for
Christmas. The wand Theo had found for
her was safely in the pocket of her coat.
She followed Draco out, but when she
found herself near the stairwell, she
paused. A part of her suddenly
registered that this was the first time she
was ever going to leave the apartment.
The thought of going outside was
exciting, but for the most part it was
terrifying.
Draco seemed to sense that she hadn't
moved and he turned, his expression
softening when he noticed the fear in her
eyes. He wanted to make a teasing
remark, but he bit it back and held out
his hand instead.
"Ready?"
She smiled, her fears slowly dissipating
when she remembered that she'd always
felt safest with him, and took his hand.
26 | confringo

26
confr i ngo
Blasting spell.

The safe-house that Andromeda had

prepared for them was in Godric's
Hollow, a place that was now in
devastating shambles. The Death-Eaters
had destroyed most of the houses in the
area, and Draco remembered it clearly
because it was one of the first places
that had been properly captured after
saint Potter and the bloody Order had
lost the war.
"Some say this place is haunted," Luna
was saying, as the six of them trudged
along the empty street. "And you might
want to be careful with the ghosts you
see here. I don't think all of them are
particularly nice."
"So let me get something straight here,"
Theo interjected, "you're saying that
you'd befriend the ghosts if they were
fucking nice?"
"Of course. Most ghosts are just lonely
and I think they'd like a friend."
Hermione chuckled under her breath as
she heard the conversation in front.
Blaise was the one leading the group,
while she and Draco lingered behind.
She was thoroughly fascinated as Draco
covered up their footprints with the same
spell over and over, and made sure to
leave deeper imprints each time she took
a step forward.
Draco soon noticed and shot her an
irritated look, to which she simply
grinned. "Never played in the snow
before, Malfoy?"
He raised his eyebrows at her
unexpected use of his surname, but didn't
question it. "If you mean making
footprints in the bloody snow just for the
fun of it - then no."
She looked up at him, noticing for a brief
moment how he seemed to fit in
perfectly with the snowy landscape. Her
eyes flickered momentarily to his lips
and she thought about the delightful,
hungry way he'd kissed her earlier. An
involuntary shiver raced down her spine
and it wasn't because of the cold.
"Granger," he said, with thinly-veiled
amusement in his tone as he clearly
noticed the way she was looking at him,
"you're staring."
Hermione blushed and trudged on, trying
to stop her heart from racing when he
placed a gentle hand against the small of
her back. She wasn't so sure if the
gesture was just to guide her - the road
ahead was flat and not quite slippery;
she didn't need much guiding to begin
with.
They soon arrived at the safehouse - a
dilapidated building that seemed steady
enough to have survived the worst of the
war. Draco made Hermione wait outside
with Luna, while he and Theo headed
inside first to scout round the place.
Blaise was placing careful charms to
conceal the building from the outside,
and Pansy left him eventually, wandering
over to Hermione and Luna. She gazed
round at their surroundings before
casting a disillusionment charm over the
three of them. "It's awfully quiet," she
murmured, "too quiet."
Hermione couldn't agree more. There
was nothing as frightening as the calm
before the storm, and the louder the
silence, the more deadly the
consequence. She took an instinctive
step closer to Pansy, who automatically
slipped her arm through Hermione's.
After what seemed like forever, Draco
stepped out, eyes narrowing when the
front porch seemed empty. He seemed to
know it wasn't, however, and quickly
cast a spell on the group to remove the
charm. "Come on," he said, gesturing
them inside with a quick nod of his head.
"It's safe."
Safe.
Hermione didn't think she could ever
hear that word enough. She let the others
hurry inside before going in herself,
slipping her fingers through Draco's as
she passed him by the doorway.
But he didn't seem willing to let her go.
After he'd shut the door, he pulled her
close, resting his hands gently on her
hips and staring down at her with
unfiltered concern in his eyes. "You
alright?"
He was here, wasn't he? She pushed
herself up on the tips of her toes,
pressing her lips dangerously close to
his, her smile widening when he let out a
low sound from the back of his throat.
"I've never been better."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It was time to make this new place their

temporary home. After Draco had left
with Theo to gather some supplies from
the Black Market, Hermione found
herself wandering around to familiarise
herself with the place.
Blaise was still outside, casting
additional protection spells on the
house, while Pansy sat on the front
porch, her eyes alert as she scanned the
surroundings for any rogue activities
nearby. One could never be too careful
at a time like this, and the four Slytherins
had already agreed taking turns to guard
the place.
Luna was resting in the living room, the
long walk clearly having taken a toll on
her leg. After Hermione had checked on
Luna's faded injury, she wandered
around the other rooms, casting a quick
Scourgify every so often to clean the
place. There was rust and dust almost
everywhere, and her nose wrinkled at
the smell of mildew that seemed to
cluster every nook and cranny.
Rounding a corner, she paused when she
stepped into the kitchen. Something
seemed familiar, too familiar. She
inhaled shakily, but the oxygen was non-
existent and she felt her heart hammer
against her chest as bile rose up in her
throat.
This place wasn't safe. She knew this
place like the back of her hand, and it
wasn't safe. Feeling a surge of terror
engulf her, she fell a step back, glancing
around with wide eyes and feeling her
skin crawl. Crawl? No.
Slither.
And it all came back in flashes then. And
her head hurt, Merlin, it hurt.
Her mind conjured up shadows, of an
empty, broken house. Creaky stairs.
Stained walls. Silence and then
screaming. It was fear of the worst kind,
the deadly kind. A woman, more dead
than living, and what was her name
again - Bathilda Bagshot. And from the
darkness, from the shadows - there it
was, hissing, slithering towards her,
closer, closer, closer -
A snake.
Nagini.
Somewhere in the farthest recesses of
her mind, Hermione imagined she heard
screaming. It wasn't until she heard the
patters of feet becoming louder when she
realised that she was the one screaming.
She saw Blaise in her peripheral vision,
followed by Pansy and Luna, matching
looks of horror on their faces.
But they were blocked by a terrifying
vision of the bloody snake - was it even
real? - and Hermione screamed when the
snake lashed out towards her. She
slammed herself back against the wall,
feeling her back collide against
something metal and sharp, but she didn't
care. She had to get away, they all had to
get away.
"Hermione!" It was Pansy, but Hermione
shrieked as she felt something grip her
tightly. Merlin, no, the snake had finally
wrapped itself around her and she was
about to be choked to death. "Hermione,
snap out of it! You're having a panic
attack!"
"Pansy, get away from her - "
"No, Blaise, you have to hold her. Luna,
give me a hand - "
And Hermione screamed even louder
when she felt something else grip her
other arm. She was trapped, she was
dying, and where was Draco when she
needed him? Merlin, Draco was going to
be killed by Nagini too. Her eyes
widened and she whipped out her wand
from her coat, holding it out protectively
in front of her as she scanned her
surroundings, because where was
Draco, where was Draco, where was -
"Hermione, stop struggling!"
"Pansy, just step away from her, you're
making it worse - "
But the grip on her arms tightened and
suddenly, Nagini was right in front of her
again, mouth wide and teeth bared and
aiming right at her.
Kill or be killed?
Hermione didn't miss a beat.
"Confringo!"
A jet of orange light shot out from the
wand and the dining table exploded in a
burst of flames. She heard muffled
shouts and swears from the others, but
Nagini was still here, and Hermione
sobbed hysterically as she aimed her
wand again at the bloody snake.
"Confrin - "
Only this time, the spell never left her
lips as something clamped down so hard
on her mouth she could hardly breathe.
"Get Draco!" She registered Blaise
shouting in the background. "Pansy,
extinguish the fire and light the phials -
Luna, I need a silencing charm
everywhere, and the calming potion...it's
in Hermione's bag! Hurry up, I can't hold
her for long - "
Hermione bit him. Blaise swore, falling
off balance for a moment as she shoved
him with all her might and continued
screaming, holding her wand out in front
of her again.
"Hurry up!" Blaise roared, throwing
himself out of the way as Hermione
blindly aimed and fired another blasting
curse his way, this time obliterating two
chairs completely. In another situation,
perhaps, he'd pause to admire how
proficient she could really be at magic.
Because it turned out that when pushed
to her limits, Hermione Granger could
actually aim to kill.
Blaise swore on Salazar's grave that he
hadn't even taught her that bloody
blasting spell.
Luna raced back with the calming
potions, muttering muffling charms under
her breath to keep Hermione's screams
from waking the whole neighbourhood.
"What's wrong with your hand?" She
asked Blaise, who simply shot her a
dismissive look.
"She bit me. Take away her bloody
wand."
But the moment Luna reached for it,
Hermione screamed even harder, her
voice muffled by Blaise's hand pressed
firmly over her mouth. She shot another
spell - a silent one, when had she even
learnt silent magic? - and Luna barely
evaded it, the ends of her blonde hair
getting singed in the process.
"Shit," Blaise swore again as Hermione
thrashed in his grip. "Pansy, where the
hell is Draco?"
"I just called him!" Pansy yelled, running
back into the kitchen with her face
flushed and the expression on her face
distressed. She hastily put out the new
burst of flames that Hermione had sent
hurtling near the kitchen cabinets. "Baby,
just get away from her, she's not safe!"
"And leave her to blow up the rest of the
bloody building?"
"Better than getting yourself blown up!
Careful, Luna!" Pansy grabbed the
blonde witch away, and aimed her wand
at Hermione. "I'm going to stun her, just
give me - "
"What the hell is going on?"
Pansy whirled around, relief surging
through her when she saw Draco and
Theo striding through the hallway, their
faces taught with apprehension. Draco
tried to keep his expression steeled as he
heard Hermione's muffled screams. But
the moment he rounded the corner and
saw the hysterical girl on the kitchen
floor, he felt the oxygen leave his lungs.
She looked far worse than she had the
night he found her. Physically, she
seemed fine, but he knew that her
psychological state was strained far
more than it could handle. He inhaled
sharply, wondering if this was how she
had been when the Peverells tortured her
for three whole years.
"Fuck." He swore under his breath
before waving the others out of the
room, including Blaise, who quickly let
go of Hermione. Ignoring their advice to
be careful, he stood by the doorway,
taking a deep breath and forcing himself
to stay calm. "Granger."
Hermione paused, her wand poised in
mid-air as the scream froze on her lips.
Her eyes were still glazed, her chest
rising and falling with sobbing breaths,
but she had heard him and that was a
good enough sign.
He took several steps closer to her
before dropping to his knees barely a
few feet away from her. "Hermione, it's
me."
And yes, there it was - a flicker of
resignation at the sound of his voice. She
lowered her wand. After what seemed
like forever, she blinked, her eyes
slowly swivelling and latching onto him.
He almost buckled at the brokenness in
them.
"Draco?"
He exhaled at the sound of his name on
her lips, finally daring to reach out a
tentative hand to her. "Yes, it's me," he
said calmly, trying not to react when
unfiltered relief replaced her terrified
expression. "You're safe now,
Hermione."
Her breathing was uneven as shakily
reached for him with slow, measured
movements. It wasn't until he had
gripped her hand firmly when she finally
seemed to react to his touch, leaning
towards him and allowing his arms to
wrap around her tightly.
"I-I - " She choked out, burying her face
against his neck. "I didn't mean to - " and
then she trailed off, hardly able to say
another word as she broke down into
another fit of desperate sobbing, clinging
to him like he was her only lifeline.
He didn't reply; simply pressed his lips
gently to her forehead and held her
through the aftermath.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco? Are you awake?"

Hermione's voice broke the three-hour
silence that had elapsed since her earlier
breakdown. After she'd collapsed into
his arms, he'd brought her out of the
kitchen and into the closest bedrooms,
laying her down gently on the bed and
keeping his arms wound round her
tightly as he settled down beside her.
They hadn't moved since. She hadn't
even uttered a word, and apart from the
occasional sniffle or sob, no other sound
had escaped her lips.
To say he was worried would be an
understatement. Truth be told, he was
fucking terrified, because it almost
seemed like she had spiralled back into
a shell of herself, the way she had been
when he first found her. A part of him
wanted to whisk her away to
Andromeda's where he knew she'd be
safe, but another part of him knew that it
wasn't about what he wanted.
It was about what she wanted, and if
Hermione Granger wanted to stay by his
side and fight, then he was going to
respect her decision.
Though he'd be damned if he let anything
happen to her.
He shifted slightly now, pulling back a
little so he could get a better look at her.
Her cheeks were still tear-stained, and
her fingers still gripped his tightly.
"Yeah," Draco answered in response to
her question, trying to maintain a calm
expression when Hermione turned in his
arms so that she was now face to face
with him on the pillow. Their lips were
a hairsbreadth away, and it was taking
all his willpower to keep his eyes
focused on hers and not stray any lower.
"I didn't mean to break down," she said,
with such a huge measure of apology in
her voice that he instinctively reached up
to draw his thumb swiftly against her
cheek.
"Not your fault, Granger," he assured
her.
"This place brings back bad memories. I
think I've been here before, you see," she
explained, and he froze, completely
taken aback by her revelation.
"You've been to Godric's Hollow?"
"I think so. I don't remember why I came
here or who I came here with. But I do
remember battling a huge snake. Nagini,"
she added, her breath halting as though
the memory of it pained her. "That was
the name of the snake."
Draco lifted his head to look down at the
brown-haired witch in his arms.
"Nagini?" He repeated, feeling a sudden
chill shoot down his spine as he
remembered the Dark Lord's beastly
creature, the way the snake had sunk its
teeth into one of his professors back at
the Malfoy Manor three years ago. The
memory was vivid and revolting, and he
instinctively tightened his grip on
Hermione.
His action didn't go unnoticed, and
Hermione eyes gradually widened.
"Yes," a frown glossed her face as she
took in his tight expression, "did I say
something wrong?"
"No," he hastily shook his head to
assuage her fears. "It's just - remember
that snake I told you about some time
ago? The one that Neville Longbottom
killed?"
Her eyes grew wide. "That's the one?"
"The one and only. Nagini belonged to
the Dark Lord. He was furious when he
lost her."
"I see," the relief in Hermione's voice
was unmistakable, and Draco belatedly
realised that she hadn't known that
Nagini was dead. No, she'd forgotten
that the snake was dead - that seemed
more like it. "Well, I think Neville's very
brave."
Draco made a reluctant noise, one that
wasn't so much of an agreement as it was
a note of dismissiveness. He knew that
killing the Dark Lord's snake had to be
one of the greatest accomplishments
anyone had ever achieved in the entire
history of the Wizarding world, but he'd
rather keel over than admit that.
The bottomline was that Neville
Longbottom was still a bloody git -
courageous, of course, but still a git. Just
because Draco liked Hermione didn't
change the way he viewed those friends
of hers.
And while he was on the subject of her
friends, his thoughts drifted to the
Weasel and he found himself
automatically frowning. If all went well,
they would defect to the Order within the
next few days. The Golden Trio would
be united once more, and Hermione -
His chest constricted.
These were dangerous waters he was
treading, and the more he thought about
it, the more he found himself questioning
everything that he had begun to believe
in.
It wasn't until he felt familiar fingers
lace through his when he pushed aside
his thoughts and focused on Hermione. It
dawned on him that she was saying
something and he blinked. "What?"
A fleeting look of amusement flashed in
her eyes before it faded, her lips curving
up in a fond smile as she stared at him.
"I said - will you stay with me tonight?"
She asked, haltingly, a tinge of anxiety in
her voice as though she was worried
he'd say no. "I don't want to be alone in
this place."
"Of course." He didn't even hesitate as
he draped an arm loosely around her
waist, pulling her in close so that their
legs were tangled under the covers, her
head tucked under his chin and her
fingers gripping the hem of his shirt
tightly. "Sleep, Granger."
And the way she smiled against his chest
swiftly cast aside any doubts he had, at
least for moment.
"Goodnight, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione woke up the next morning to

find that the other half of the bed was
empty. She felt a sudden surge of panic,
but it was quickly quelled when she
spotted the familiar bags by the
wardrobe. Two of them were hers; the
other three belonged to Draco - which
meant that he had shifted their
belongings into the room.
After retrieving an arbitrary set of
clothes, a towel, a toothbrush and her
wand, she ran a quick hand through her
hair in a feeble attempt to tame her wild
curls. It didn't make a difference, as
usual, which hardly bothered her by
now.
The moment she stepped out of the room,
the five people in the kitchen
immediately turned to her. She paused
like a deer caught in headlights before
attempting a faint smile. Only Draco
seemed calm as ever. Theo's lips were
pulled up in a tiny grin by way of
greeting, but Pansy, Blaise and Luna
were staring at her in blatant concern,
clearly remembering her breakdown
from the day before.
Draco was the first to ease the tension in
the room. Pushing back his chair with a
rough scrape, he strode quickly over to
her. "Bathroom's over there," he gestured
to the door down the decrepit hallway
that was past the kitchen.
Hermione faltered, remembering the
familiar corners of the place and fighting
the chill that raced down her spine. She
took a deep, unsteady breath and walked
towards the bathroom. The interior was
surprisingly clean. Blaise had probably
Scourgified the place a little - it seemed
far better than its rusty state the day
before.
But it was still filled with ghosts of the
past. And as she flicked a brief glance
over her shoulder and saw the dark
hallway, she felt her breath grow
shallow. That snake, that bloody snake
still haunted her.
"Granger," Draco's voice pulled her
back to reality. He was standing slightly
behind her, his eyebrows knitted as he
saw her hovering by the doorway. "Are
you alright?"
"Yes, fine," she threw an unsure glance
at the bathroom, feeling her throat tighten
at the confined space within. If she had a
panic attack in there and imagined
Nagini launching its unhinged jaws right
into her face, she was certain that she'd
blast this place into oblivion. "I just - "
"Do you need me to wait outside?"
She bit her lip, glancing over her
shoulder at the bathroom and back at him
again. "If it's not too much to ask, could
you - " she let her sentence trail off,
hardly able to finish off her bold request.
But the implication of her words was
clear, and his eyebrows shot up.
"Granger, you are aware that there's no
shower curtain inside, right?" His lips
were tugged up in a brief smirk, his eyes
gleaming with thinly-veiled amusement.
"It'll be just like that night you found
me!" She pleaded, in spite of the blush
colouring her cheeks. "You could keep
your back turned and not look."
"You're asking a hell lot from me," he
grumbled, but stepped into the bathroom
with her nonetheless, locking the door
behind simply with a wave of his hand.
Then they found themselves faced with a
new problem when the saw the full-
length mirror against the wall, large
enough to reflect Hermione if she stood
under the shower.
Hermione didn't miss the flicker of
realisation that bloomed on Draco's
face. And before she knew it, she was
picking up her wand and pointing it at
him.
"Obscuro."
A blindfold immediately materialised
and wrapped itself tightly around his
head. Hermione stepped back in
satisfaction, placing her new change of
clothes down on the sink. "I will punch
you if you remove that," she warned him,
even though it was difficult to keep a
straight face. "And you know I have a
mean right hook."
"Violence and a blindfold?" Draco
shook his head, still sounding thoroughly
entertained, "you've clearly been led
astray by Slytherins."
Now Hermione laughed, and she quickly
manoeuvred him so that he had a proper
seat on the counter beside the sink. She
reached up to smooth the blindfold over
his eyes, just in case, before acting on
impulse and pressing a brief kiss to his
cheek.
"Thank you for being here," she said
quickly, feeling her stomach tighten
deliciously when he let out a low sound
from the back of his throat, as though
having her so close was both delightful
and agonising to him.
Pushing that thought aside, she quickly
discarded her clothes and stepped under
the shower. She turned on the tap, a
shriek escaping her lips when she found
herself drowned by a heavy torrent of
ice-cold water.
"Merlin's sake, it's freezing," she
gasped, reaching out to grab her wand.
But she didn't have to. A second later,
she found that the water cascading down
had heated up to a nice, warm
temperature. She didn't have to look to
know that Draco had warmed the water
with magic, and a dulcet sigh escaped
her as she felt the prickles on her skin
ease off with the comfortable
temperature.
A second sigh of content had just left her
when she found herself unable to make a
noise. She threw a glance over at Draco,
only to see him still sitting there with the
blindfold over his eyes. But a wand was
directed at her, a half-distracted, half-
aggravated look on his face.
He'd hit her with a Silencio.
"If I'm not allowed to see anything,
you're not allowed to make sounds that'll
fuck around with my head," he said
flatly, "now hurry up and finish your
bath, Granger."
Hermione laughed silently and reached
over for the shampoo to lather up her
hair. Things had just taken a turn for the
interesting.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The kitchen was emptied out by the time
Draco and Hermione emerged from the
bathroom. Hermione heard a distant
chatter of voices from the rooms upstairs
which she quickly identified as Pansy,
Blaise and Luna. Theo was out on the
front porch, keeping a lookout and
staying alert on his shift.
Hermione quickly located her breakfast,
a plate of scrambled eggs and an English
muffin that Blaise had set aside for her.
Draco's food was half-eaten, and after
he cast a quick heating spell on their
plates, they settled down to eat.
Hermione was happy to eat in a
comfortable silence with Draco, who
seemed content to do the same. But
Pansy's excited voice, along with
Blaise's and Luna's, drifted down
occasionally, increasing in volume as
Luna talked about the Order and the
other two Slytherins asked eager
questions.
Hermione couldn't help but feel rather
uneasy as she overheard their
conversation. A warm, comforting hand
gripped her knee tightly under the table
and she glanced at Draco beside her,
who was still chewing on his food
stoically, a calm expression on his face.
"I can muffle your ears for you if you
want," he offered, once he'd swallowed
the mouthful of food. "You don't have to
listen to them."
"It's not that," she hedged briefly, before
dropping her fork and shifting in her seat
so that she was facing him. "Can I tell
you something?"
"Go ahead."
She took a deep breath. "After that little
episode yesterday, I've found that I'm
scared, Draco. Terribly frightened. And
- and if a snake can cause me to break
down, I don't know what else will - "
Her words were cut off when Draco
swivelled round in his seat. His action
forced her knees between his, and she
somehow felt protected in that position.
Her hands automatically reached for his
and he intertwined his fingers with hers
easily.
"Granger, before you start diminishing
your self-worth, let me cut you off
there," he said evenly, looking at her
with all the seriousness in the world.
"Nagini wasn't just a snake. That bloody
creature was un-killable. Believe me -
I've seen what she could do. It's
absolutely normal to feel scared. I mean,
fuck, Granger, when I first joined the
Dark Lord's inner circle," he paused, a
fleeting look of pain flashing in his eyes
so briefly she almost missed it. "That
snake scared the hell out of me. I
couldn't even look that bloody thing in
the eye. She was - she wasn't normal."
Hermione frowned, suddenly
remembering what Draco had said a
long time ago about Neville Longbottom.
"She was a - " what was that word
again? " - a Horcrux?"
Draco's eyes widened. "How did you - "
"You told me, remember? When I first
asked you about Neville?"
"Oh," the stormy expression in Draco's
eyes seemed to clear. "Right. You're
right, Nagini was a Horcrux and she
couldn't be killed unless she was
stabbed by a special weapon. I'll tell
you more about that someday, Granger."
Hermione smiled briefly; glad that she
could at least remember all the events
that happened post-capture, when Draco
had found her. It thrilled her to realise
that she never quite forgot any of her
days spent with the Slytherins.
But then her smile faded as she thought
about the matter at hand, and her grip on
Draco's fingers tightened. "The thing is,"
she said haltingly, "I'm not sure if I can
join the Order and fight alongside them.
I'm not even sure if I want to."
He stared at her silently, clearly
surprised by her confession.
"All the fight has gone out of me,
Draco," she continued, shaking her head
wearily as a forlorn sigh spilled from
her lips. "I'm afraid I'm just not a
tenacious Gryffindor anymore."
"That's because you've spent way too
much time with us," came a familiar
voice from behind her. Theo strode into
the room, lifting out his hand and
summoning an apple from nearby shelf.
The fruit flew across the kitchen into his
hand, and he took a hearty bite from it.
"You're one of us now," Theo added,
grinning at Hermione's confused
expression. "A cowardly Slytherin. But
you know, that's what keeps us alive
during a war."
She raised her eyebrows and turned
back to Draco, who had a smirk playing
on his lips.
"Theo's right," Draco readily agreed.
"Sometimes, clever cowardice
supersedes dumb bravery."
"In other words, Slytherin trumps
Gryffin-fucking-dor," Theo interjected
merrily.
In spite of herself, Hermione couldn't
help but let out a laugh. Theo casually
waved over his shoulder as he headed
back outside, the half-eaten apple in
hand, and resumed his position on the
front porch.
Then the kitchen was silent again, and
Hermione looked up at Draco. There
was an unusually soft expression in his
eyes as he gazed down at her, and she
found herself having to catch her breath.
"You don't have to join the Order if you
don't want to, Granger," he said simply,
and she felt her lips tug up into a smile.
"Even though the four of us are
defecting, and even if it all goes well - I
don't think we'll ever properly be part of
the Order. And, if you want, you can just
stay with us."
Hermione instantly felt all the fears that
weighed down on her dissipate. "I'm
staying with you," she breathed quickly,
her smile widening and eyes crinkling at
the corners as she stared up at him.
"Definitely. No questions asked."
27 | stupefy

27
s tupefy
Renders a victim unconscious.

The stay at Godric's Hollow proved to

be easier than expected.
Despite the protection charms and
shields placed on the house, Draco
decided it was better to be safe than
sorry. So the four Slytherins and Luna
took turns to guard the house, with the
more skilled duellers like Theo and
Draco taking the night shifts.
Hermione knew better than to offer her
help - she doubted that she had it in her
to hurt anyone, even a Death-Eater - but
she liked accompanying the others on
their shifts. She enjoyed spending time
with Theo, who always made her laugh.
Pansy and Blaise always had fascinating
anecdotes to share, and Luna was the
link to her past.
But she loved talking to Draco the most.
She realised that, despite her strong
memories of him, there were many other
things she didn't know. Like the fact that
his hatred for half-bloods was something
that had been whipped into him for as
long as he could remember.
"I saw a Muggle book once," he
admitted, on one of the nights when they
had broached the topic of his childhood.
"Got through half of it until my father
found out. And he locked me in a room
and starved me until I got that fact
through my head - that reading Muggle
books was a crime worse than using any
of the Unforgivables."
It seemed like Draco's snobbery had
been something instilled, rather than a
trait he was born with. Hermione thought
about how cruel and callous his father
was, and about how kind her own father
was.
At least, she thought her father was kind.
For the millionth time, she wondered
why she remembered nothing about her
own parents. They were but a piece of
the past, faceless figures that had
provided her with a happy childhood
and faint but fond memories.
But the thoughts faded when she looked
up at noticed the troubled expression on
Draco's face. He was gazing into the
distance, his eyes carefully blank and
illuminated by the silver of the moon.
She reached down to slide her fingers
along the sleeve of his green jumper -
the same one that she had knit for him.
She noticed that all the Slytherins
seemed to wear their respective ones
whenever possible, as though the
jumpers were part of a uniform that
banded them all together.
After a slight moment of hesitation, she
tugged up the sleeve of his jumper so
that it exposed his Dark Mark. He
quickly flinched away, as though the
thought of her touching that was
absolutely unthinkable.
"What about that?" She asked softly,
gripping him tightly so that he wouldn't
completely pull away. "Were you forced
into receiving it too?"
Draco swallowed. His silver eyes
flickered to her momentarily, before he
glanced away, staring unfocusedly into
the distance. "Not exactly," he hedged,
and she thought she heard a slight
tremble in his voice. "It was - fuck,
Granger, you need to understand that, for
the longest time, it was all I ever
wanted."
"Really?"
His eyes flew to hers. "Not the job
description," he said, his tone edgy as
though he was pleading that she at least
try to understand. "Or the fact that I'd
have to serve the Dark Lord. It was just -
the power, the prestige, the exclusivity -
I guess. I thought I was continuing a
fucking legacy. The next heir of the
Malfoy family, now a Death-Eater, just
like the rest of the family. It wasn't until I
was standing in front of the Dark Lord,
holding out my arm to him when I
realised that it was the most fucked-up
decision I'd ever made. And by then,"
his voice broke off, and Hermione
automatically laced her fingers through
his. "By then, it was too late."
Hermione thought of all the things she
could say to comfort him. But she
surmised that it wasn't going to do any
good. She could tell him how sorry she
was, but it wasn't going to make the past
or any of his mistakes disappear.
So, when she found nothing to say, she
simply placed her head on his shoulder,
smiling faintly when his arm
instinctively wrapped around her waist,
pulling her in close to him, so close until
she swore she could hear the slow,
steady thudding of his heartbeat; a
constant reminder that in this war, amidst
all the death surrounding them, he was
still very much alive.
They stayed until Blaise came out for his
shift. The sun had begun to rise in the far
horizon, and Hermione belatedly
realised how time seemed to become
irrelevant when she was with Draco.
Draco seemed reluctant to head back
inside, so Hermione accompanied him
for a walk along the street. The
neighbourhood was deathly silent as
always, and they were inconspicuous in
their dark, nondescript clothes, but
Draco was careful to erase their
footprints from the snow.
Hermione found herself coming to a halt
when she passed a graveyard. Something
about it screamed familiar, and she
momentarily dropped Draco's hand to
pick her way through the gravestones. It
was as though a magnetic force field
gravitated her down the narrow path,
and she could hear Draco shuffling
through the snow behind her.
"Granger," his voice was guarded,
almost wary, "is everything alright?"
"Yes, of course," she said, turning
around to slide her fingers through his
again. She didn't miss the way he
avoided looking at the gravestones, as
though he were terrified of chancing
upon a name that might strike a chord in
his memory. "I just - "
She trailed off as she turned, eyes
widening when she saw something that
made her breath catch in her throat.
"Draco, look," she breathed, tugging him
towards a particular gravestone. The
gravestone was set in white marble, with
the names James & Lily Potter engraved
in a stately script. And, for a moment,
Hermione felt a rush of déjà vu. She'd
been here before. "Is that...?"
"Potter's parents," Draco replied calmly,
taking a step closer to get a better look.
Hermione shuffled closer and gently
dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and
curious as she studied the gravestone.
Had she been here with Harry before?
She couldn't quite remember, but she
supposed she had. It made sense.
She supposed that she'd had many things
to say to Harry's parents when she last
visited their grave. But this time, she had
nothing. All she could think of was how
sorry she was, that she'd forgotten their
son, because she hadn't meant to.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly pulled
the scarf from her neck and used it to
brush off the dust and snow that had
gathered on the grave. She heard Draco
take a step closer. And then he held out
his wand and conjured a wreath of lilies
on the floor.
Hermione glanced up at him in surprise,
smiling when he averted his gaze, as
though the mere act of laying flowers on
a grave was far too nice for a Death-
Eater like him to do. She picked up the
wreath and set it against the grave,
before climbing to her feet and slotting
her fingers between Draco's once more.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Sometime in the middle of the night,

Draco's Dark Mark began to burn.
He blinked, feeling rather disoriented as
he stared into the darkness for a moment
or two. Then, feeling a familiar mop of
wild, bushy hair under his chin, he
realised that he was in Godric's Hollow,
with Hermione in his arms.
There was something different about the
burning in his arm this time, and he
wondered if the time had come for the
Order to attack. If this was it - the time
for them to finally defect.
Reluctantly, he shook Hermione awake;
watching as her eyes fluttered open
slowly, slow recognition dawning on her
face as she saw him. "Draco? What's
wrong?"
"Hold on," he said lowly, dragging his
arms away from her and climbing out of
bed. He hastily pulled on his jacket,
zipping it up tightly and summoning his
wand over. Striding over to the door, he
yanked it open, realising that none of the
others were outside. The house was
silent - everyone else was still asleep.
"Draco?"
He whirled round, his chest tightening
involuntarily as he saw Hermione
slowly getting up, her eyes wide and
frightened. "Listen," he murmured,
holding out a hand to her. She
immediately went to him, sliding her
arms tightly around his waist. "The Dark
Lord's summoning me. But I think it's a
special mission, because none of the
others are awake. If it's time to defect,
I'll light the phials. Regardless of
whether Blaise and Pansy's Dark Marks
burn, regardless of where the Dark Lord
summons them to, they have to be at the
Malfoy Manor, with the prisoners from
the Order. The coordinates on the phial
will be for Theo, not for them, because
Theo and I will be defecting separately.
Let them know that."
"Alright," she whispered, pushing
herself up on the tips of her toes to press
her lips against his cheek. "Be safe,
Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Gringotts was a flurry of chaos when

Draco arrived. He heard Bellatrix's
hysterical cackle of laughter before he
registered anything else. To his horror,
he saw members of the Order swooping
across the room on broomsticks, hurling
hexes in every direction. He turned to
the nearest Death-Eater - Goyle Senior -
who was looking flustered as he sought
refuge behind a pillar.
"What the fuck is this?" Draco snapped,
striding swiftly towards the man. The
Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen, and
Draco quickly saw that only several
Death-Eaters had been summoned.
"I was patrolling this place when the
bloody Order launched an attack," Goyle
Senior replied, brushing a hasty hand
across his lips to wipe the blood that
dribbled down to his chin. "So I called
the Dark Lord immediately."
There was something incredibly
abnormal about the situation. "On
Gringotts? Why would the Order attack
Gringotts?"
"There's money here, obviously the
bloody Order's in need of some."
No - no, that wasn't it. Draco didn't think
highly of the stupid Order at all, but he
knew that they were above robbing a
bank. He ducked a hex that flew his way,
before stepping closer to Goyle Senior.
"Where's the Dark Lord?"
"Over there."
Draco followed Goyle Senior's gaze.
The Dark Lord stood with Dolohov at
the end of the hall, killing off anyone
who was unfortunate enough to cross
paths with him.
Draco knew that the Order was fighting
a losing battle - the number of Death-
Eaters here were less than ten and
terribly outnumbered, but Death-Eaters
like himself, Bellatrix and Dolohov
were far more deadly than all the Order
members combined, not to mention the
Dark Lord himself.
So why would the Order send
themselves on a death-trap mission?
Unless...this was supposed to be a
death-trap mission all along.
Realisation suddenly dawned on Draco.
It threw him off-focus for a moment, and
he winced as he was hit in the leg by a
stinging hex. Without a second thought,
he returned a stunning curse without
even looking at the person, his mind
reeling with the newfound revelation.
This was a decoy.
The real battle was somewhere else
altogether, and he had no doubt that the
rest of the Order was making their way
through Malfoy Manor at this very
moment.
All he had to do was to wait for
someone to alert the Dark Lord about the
invasion. Draco kept his mind alert as he
assumed his position near the back of
Gringotts. Instead of the killing curse, he
used stunning hexes, strong ones that
made his victims drop to the ground as
though dead. It wasn't the wisest option,
but Draco realised that if he was going
to defect, he couldn't defect to an
organisation where most of its members
were dead.
It wasn't long before a bloodied
Rodolphus Lestrange apparated into
Gringotts, pushing his way through to get
to the Dark Lord. Moments later, the
Dark Lord was calling his Death-Eaters
to him, and Draco quickly apparated to
the Dark Lord's side.
"The Malfoy Manor is under attack," the
Dark Lord told him, before Draco could
even murmur a pleasant greeting. "Take
yourself and several others, see if you
can capture any more of the Order."
"Yes, my lord," Draco said quickly,
before pushing up the sleeve of his
jacket. "Shall I summon the rest of the
Death-Eaters here, my lord?"
"Summon them all, Draco," the Dark
Lord returned evenly. "We'll destroy the
Order tonight."
Draco allowed his lips to curl up in a
fleeting smirk as he tapped his wand to
his Dark Mark.
This was it.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione had spent close to an hour

sitting in the darkness. She couldn't go
back to sleep, and she sat huddled up on
the stairs, clasping her hands together as
she waited silently for Draco to return.
Or for something to happen.
And then, something did happen.
Draco's phial began to burn, and she
studied the coordinates on it. Then she
was distracted by the thudding of
footsteps from the ceiling above. She
heard Pansy yelling for Blaise and Theo
to get up. Mere moments later, Blaise
hurried down the stairs and Hermione
quickly got up, turning on the lights in the
living room with her wand.
"Where's Draco?" Blaise asked, the
second he saw Hermione.
She bit her lip. "You-know-who
summoned him awhile ago. Draco said
that you and Pansy have to go to the
Malfoy Manor."
"But the phials - "
"That's for Theo. You and Pansy have to
go to Malfoy Manor to free those
captured Order members."
Blaise faltered, studying the serious
expression on Hermione's face for a
moment. Then he sighed and nodded.
"Alright," he sighed, stuffing the phials
back under his shirt before glancing up
the stairs. "Pansy, Theo! Hurry the hell
up! And where's Luna?"
"Here," the blonde haired witch stepped
out of the room adjacent to the kitchen,
rubbing her eyes blearily. "Is it time?"
"Yes," Blaise spoke with an air of calm
confidence, and Hermione quickly
realised that in the absence of Draco, he
was practically second-in-command.
"Remember the plan, Luna, and stick to
it. Save those you can, leave those you
can't."
Luna nodded, hastily zipping up her
jacket and running to the shelves to
retrieve the port-keys. Pansy and Theo
came rushing down the stairs a moment
later, Theo's eyes bright as the prospect
of a midnight mission clearly excited
him, while Pansy's face was more or
less tight with anxiety.
"Please be careful," Hermione said
softly, exchanging a quick hug with
Pansy. After telling her not to worry, the
three Slytherins apparated out of the
house, leaving her alone with Luna, who
was still preparing to go undercover.
Hermione knew exactly how the plan
worked. Several days ago, Draco had
run it through with them step by step, and
it was all working like clockwork now.
When the time came for the Order to
attack, Blaise and Pansy were to go
straight to the basement of the Malfoy
Manor where the captured prisoners
were being held. They were to rescue as
many as they could; until caught,
deliberately, by the Order itself.
"You've always wanted to fucking
defect," Draco had said to Blaise,
"here's your perfect chance. You and
Pansy can defect in the most obvious
way possible, by helping the Order
members escape from their prison cells.
And while you're at it, you might as well
take down as many Death-Eaters as you
can, including Theo."
"Are you fucking serious?" Theo had
yelped, staring at Draco in horror.
"You're going to let him hex me?"
Blaise had grinned at that. "It would be
my pleasure, Draco."
Luna, on the other hand, was to provide
backup using a Disillusionment charm.
That was something Hermione had
quickly realised about Draco's plans - he
liked having backups, just in case things
went awry. Luna's job was to rescue as
many of the Order's prisoners as she
could find, as well as portkey Blaise and
Pansy the hell out of there before the
Death-Eaters could kill them off.
Still, Hermione couldn't help but feel her
gut twist in worry. She stepped towards
Luna, tapping the girl on the shoulder.
"Luna?"
"Oh, hi, Hermione," the girl still
sounded tranquil as ever, despite the fact
that she was due to enter the foray at any
moment. "What's up?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "Do you
think I could help?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

There were screams and shouts

resonating from the basement of the
Malfoy Manor. Pansy couldn't help but
grip Blaise's hand tightly as they made
their way down the stairs, where they
found a chaotic confrontation in full
swing. Three Death-Eaters were battling
two Order members, while a third lay in
a motionless heap on the floor. Their
presence caught the attention of the five
other people, and Pansy immediately
stepped forward.
"Stay calm. We're on your side," she
said, keeping a clamp on the wave of
nervousness rising up in her when she
realised that she recognised none of the
Order members. It was going to be so
much more difficult to negotiate this
way. "We've defected."
Her words made the room go silent, and
she quickly took the opportunity to hurl a
stunning curse at the nearest Death-Eater.
He immediately dropped to the ground,
and she smirked at the Order members.
"Does this prove my point?"
Blaise quickly took down the remaining
two Death-Eaters with stunning curses,
before turning to the Order members,
who stared at them in disbelief. "Your
friends are down that hallway," he said
calmly. "You'd better hurry."
"How do we know we can trust you?"
One of them asked, still gazing at them
suspiciously, keeping his wand poised to
attack.
Pansy rolled her eyes and strode down
the hallway towards the cells, tugging on
Blaise so that he'd follow her. "The fact
that you're still standing there alive and
talking to us," she tossed nonchalantly
over her shoulder, "that alone speaks
volumes, doesn't it?"
"Do you know what else speaks
volumes?"
Pansy froze as she heard another voice,
whirling around immediately to face the
person. She and Blaise stiffened as they
saw Kingsley Shacklebolt descending
the stairs, with a group of over thirty
Order members behind him.
"Sir - " Blaise began, raising his hands
as a form of surrender.
"Those Dark-Marks on your arms,"
Shacklebolt said, before one of the
members sent a fiery spell hurtling their
way, leaving the tips of Pansy's hair
singed as Blaise quickly pushed her out
of the way.
And it all went to hell from there.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco had pulled out all the stops this

time. Upon the Dark Lord's request, he
had selected eight other Death-Eaters to
defend Malfoy Manor with him. He had
Theo and Guthrie, whom he knew were
trustworthy and could hold their own.
And he'd picked out the rest of the Dark
Lord's top-notch fighters; Antonin
Dolohov, the three Lestranges -
Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan,
along with two members of the Peverells
- Walden MacNair and Yaxley.
It was going to be a cutthroat battle, but
he hoped that the Order could at least
take out some of them, or all of them.
Only then would the Dark Lord's army
be weakened tremendously. He was
practically handing the victory over to
the Order on a silver platter.
Ignoring Bellatrix's cackles of laughter
as she walked beside him, he led the
group down the stairs to the basement of
the Malfoy Manor. And then he stopped
short as he heard a familiar voice
speaking amidst the sizzle of curses and
spells shooting in every different
direction.
Blaise.
"You've got to hear us out, sir," Blaise
was saying to Kingsley Shacklebolt,
holding out his wand as he cast a
protective shield in front of him and
Pansy to protect themselves from the
hexes that the Order was shooting their
way. "We're on your side. We've
defected, we've been waiting for the
Order to attack the Manor for days now."
Draco deliberately stepped forward as
planned, holding out a hand to stop
Bellatrix, whom he was certain was
mere seconds away from shooting an
Avada at Blaise for defecting.
"Zabini," Draco's voice was clipped,
and everyone immediately turned to face
him. He noticed several familiar faces in
his peripheral vision, but kept his
attention on Blaise and Pansy. "What the
fuck is this?"
And, just as planned, Blaise smirked.
"Sorry, mate," he drawled, and directed
his wand in Theo's direction. "Stupefy."
The curse came far too swift to catch,
and Theo dropped to the ground
immediately. Amidst the confused,
horrified silence, Blaise turned to
Shacklebolt. "Now do you believe me?
Pansy and I are defected Death-Eaters."
Draco growled low in his throat and
shot a Stupefy back at Blaise, who was
promptly flung back and lay in a
motionless heap on the floor. Draco
turned to the other Death-Eaters behind
him, and hoped he looked equally as
furious as they were about the defected
Death-Eaters.
"Kill them all," he said simply, before
turning around and stunning Pansy as
well. And then the basement was filled
with the wired crackles of lethal hexes,
screams of fear and, louder than anything
else, Bellatrix's maniacal laughter.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Things were falling apart.

Hermione knew it from the moment she
portkeyed into the basement with Luna.
The two were hiding under
Disillusionment charms, although
Hermione had the added protection of
the Cloak of Invisibility.
Luna immediately cast a stunning spell at
the final Death-Eater who was standing
in their way, before grabbing Hermione's
hand and pulling her towards the prison
cells. The place was dark, and
Hermione draped the Cloak over herself
and Luna before holding out her wand.
"Lumos."
A narrow beam of light lit her wand, and
she held it out patiently as Luna set about
freeing the captured Order members
with the Unlocking charm. When all the
cells were unlocked, Luna removed her
own Disillusionment charm. Hermione
stood silently in the corner, hidden by
the Cloak as Luna was reunited with her
friends from the Order.
She was thankful that Luna didn't say a
word to alert anyone of her presence,
because Hermione didn't think she could
handle meeting anyone from her past at
the moment. She did recognise several
familiar faces, however, like Seamus
Finnegan and Cho Chang. They didn't
look too well, but she was just glad that
they were safe.
Suddenly, voices echoed down the
hallway and Hermione stiffened when
she overheard a familiar one. Blaise.
And then there were more distorted
voices as more people entered the
hallway. Luna had heard it too, and she
quickly handed out portkeys to her
friends before casting a Disillusionment
charm on herself once more.
A moment later, Hermione felt Luna
sidle up to her underneath the Cloak.
"Come on," Luna whispered, "we have
to stick together."
The two shuffled forward, and Hermione
felt her heart thud painfully against her
chest as she heard spells being shot
across the hallway. They rounded the
corner, hiding safely behind a pillar, and
she could've sworn her heart stopped
beating momentarily as she saw the
scene before her. She'd spent so long in
captivity that she couldn't even
remember how a battle looked like.
And this was bloody and terrifying in
every way.
The first person she spotted was Draco,
who was standing in the middle of the
room, a deathly calm look on his face as
he duelled against three Order members.
She thought that there was a certain
grace to him in the middle of an ugly
battle. Duelling almost seemed too easy
for him.
"Where's Blaise?" Luna's faintly
disturbed voice drew Hermione back to
the matter at hand. "I can't find Blaise."
Nor could she. Her eyes landed on
another familiar figure sprawled in a
corner, lying beneath a pile of rubble.
She nudged Luna. "Pansy's over there."
"Alright," Luna breathed. "You've got a
portkey with you, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Be careful, Hermione."
Hermione felt Luna leave her to get to
the girl. She couldn't see Luna, but she
imagined that the blonde witch was
ducking under spells and crawling
across the floor to get to Pansy. Pansy
vanished mere seconds later, and when
Hermione didn't feel Luna return, she
realised that the girl had portkeyed the
unconscious Pansy out of the Malfoy
Manor.
She was on her own now.
Gripping her wand tightly, Hermione
scanned the surroundings for Blaise,
shying further behind the pillar when a
Death-Eater was blasted into the wall
next to her.
After squinting into the distance, she
finally saw him. He lay in a collapsed
heap near one of the pillars opposite and
she felt a sudden surge of determination
to get to him. Remembering that the
Cloak was resistant to hexes and spells,
Hermione gripped the cloth tightly
around her and slowly made her way
towards Blaise, making sure to keep
close to the ground.
On the way over, she felt someone's foot
bump into her and she flinched, gritted
her teeth and kept crawling, taking
refuge behind a Death-Eater who was
caught in a fierce duel. She was mere
feet away from Blaise when something
in her peripheral vision caught her eye.
A blue light came shooting straight
towards the Death-Eater, but he ducked
at the last minute, and the spell caught
the wall behind him.
Hermione felt it before she saw it - a
fiery burn on the entire length of her leg
as the wall came crumbling down on her.
Unable to help herself, she let out a
sharp cry and twisted backwards,
gasping at the searing pain in her leg.
Merlin, it hurt, but she felt the pain
momentarily cease when the Death-Eater
whirled around, a look of suspicion on
his face as he eyed the rubble. She
could've sworn he could see right
through the Cloak.
Then he was pointing his wand at her.
"Homenum Revelio," he said, and within
the next second, his face had contorted
with recognition, and he reached down
to grab her by the leg. "You! You're that
mudblood!"
Hermione cried again as she kicked at
the Death-Eater and this time, she saw
Draco a far distance away, his head
whipped round and turned in her
direction, as though he had heard her.
She was certain the horror that
registered on his face mirrored hers
exactly.
But she was quickly distracted by the
excruciating pain that threatened to
engulf her. When the Death-Eater
reached for her again, the spell that
spilled past her lips was almost
instinctive and second-nature to her.
"Flipendo!"
It wasn't a particularly strong one, but
sufficient to knock him back several feet.
Seizing the opportunity, Hermione
whipped out her portkey and grabbed
Blaise's hand. Keeping a tight grip on the
Cloak and her wand, she yanked on the
portkey and vanished with Blaise.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco could've sworn that he was

imagining things the first time he heard
Hermione's voice.
It had thrown him off at first, and he'd
simply cast a fleeting glance in the
general direction he thought he'd heard it
from. But it was ridiculous - Hermione
wasn't even part of this plan. She was
supposed to be waiting back at Godric's
Hollow with phials ready to ease
whatever injury that Pansy, Blaise and
Luna came back with.
So he'd dismissed it as merely a figment
of his imagination and continued
duelling the three other Order members
whose names escaped him at the
moment. He didn't even have a problem
deflecting their hexes, and he was
growing tired of their incompetency.
They were supposed to capture him, for
Merlin's sake. How difficult could that
be?
For a moment, he thought of just
surrendering and letting them incarcerate
him. But, logically, it wasn't the best
move. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were
nearby, and he didn't want anyone to
know that he was defecting. No one
could know that. The Dark Lord could
afford to have two Death-Eaters defect,
or lose several others like Theo or
Guthrie, who were by now incapacitated
by the Order.
But Draco knew that he'd be at the top of
the Dark Lord's hit list if he himself
were to be seen defecting. And he
couldn't afford to take that risk. At least,
not when Hermione still needed him.
He was still deep in thought,
absentmindedly deflecting curses when
that familiar voice resonated from the
other end of the hallway again. His head
automatically swivelled to the right.
And then he saw her.
It felt like a brutal kick to his gut, and he
felt all the oxygen leave his lungs at that
instant. She looked terrified, and he felt
his heart sink when he saw a Death-
Eater reach out for her. Their gazes
locked for a brief second.
But before he could do anything, he felt a
strong hex hit him from the back, too
forceful to even resist. It sent him
spiralling to the ground. He tasted blood
as his cheek collided heavily against the
floor, and for a moment, he saw his
vision blur with black spots.
"Fuck," he breathed, blinking rapidly
and trying to turn so that he could see
Hermione. Save Hermione. It seemed
almost instinctive with him. But then his
vision collided with a familiar figure
descending the steps, along with an army
of Death-Eaters trailing behind.
Still in a haze, he heard Kingsley
Shacklebolt yell for a retreat, and a pair
of hands reached for him, dragging him
roughly across the floor. The last thing
he registered was the Dark Lord's eyes
narrowing into deadly, serpentine slits,
looking more furious than Draco had
ever seen him before.
Then Draco felt a sharp, stinging blow to
the back of his neck, and his vision went
black.
28 | incarcerous

28
i ncar cer ous
Binds target.

Hermione woke up the next morning

when the light from the sun's rays
streamed in through the window. The
light hit her in disjointed, fragmented
hues, and she squinted for a moment
before lifting her head from the pillow.
The first thing she noticed was that
Draco was not next to her.
And the second glaring detail - this
wasn't her room.
Bits and pieces of the previous night
came to mind. She remembered sneaking
into Malfoy Manor to help, and using a
portkey to bring herself and Blaise back
to the safehouse in Godric's Hollow. But
the landing had been a rough one, and
she remembered collapsing in the living
room, with Pansy and Luna's frantic
voices ringing in her head as she
blacked out.
But she hadn't a clue what happened
next, and she had no idea where she was
now.
Feeling a surge of panic, she scrambled
up, glancing around for her wand. To her
immense relief, she found it on the
bedside drawer and quickly snatched it
up, holding it tightly between her fingers.
She climbed out of bed, feeling a slight,
dull ache in her leg. It had to be the
injury she'd sustained from the fight the
day before. Limping slightly, she made
her way out of the room and down the
stairs. Then she paused abruptly, her
eyes widening when she saw a familiar
yet simultaneously unfamiliar person in
the kitchen.
The woman turned, her lips widening in
a warm, welcoming smile as she took a
step forward, wiping her hands hurriedly
on her apron as she did so. "Hello,
Hermione," she greeted, and Hermione
instantly recognised her voice. It was the
voice she'd heard over the telephone, the
one person she'd spent so many
afternoons talking to.
She exhaled, staring up at the woman in
disbelief. "Andromeda?"
Andromeda Tonks smiled brightly,
closing the distance to wrap her arms
around Hermione. "I'm so glad you're
here," she whispered, and Hermione
noticed how she smelled of flowers and
cinnamon. It was a comforting smell that
immediately made her feel more at ease.
She pulled back, studying Hermione
closely. "How's your leg, dear?"
"Better," Hermione settled down on the
chair, suddenly realising that there was
another person at the table. A toddler of
about three years old was seated in a
high chair and Hermione felt her breath
quicken as she reached out, clasping her
fingers briefly around the boy's chubby
ones. "Is this - is this Teddy?"
"My grandson, yes," Andromeda
nodded, stepping around the dining table
to arrange the plates, setting aside a set
for Hermione.
"You've told me about him on the phone,
'Dromeda, I just never - " and Hermione
felt tears sting the back of her eyelids
briefly as she recalled how Andromeda
had told her that both of Teddy's parents
were now dead. "Hello, Teddy,"
Hermione said softly to the boy, who
looked up at her with a transfixed gaze.
"I'm Hermione."
Andromeda smiled as she watched the
two of them. "Say hello to Hermione,
Teddy. Her-My-Nee."
"'Mione," Teddy mumbled, after a few
tries, and Hermione laughed. She thought
he was incredibly precious, and realised
that she felt utterly at ease with
Andromeda and Teddy. More so than she
had felt around anyone else, apart from
Draco, of course.
So when Teddy stretched out his hands
to her, she quickly pulled him out of his
chair, settling him down comfortably on
her lap. She laced her arms loosely
around him and turned to Andromeda.
"How did you find us, 'Dromeda? All I
remember was returning back to
Godric's Hollow."
Andromeda sat down on the chair
opposite, sliding a plate of pancakes
over to Hermione. "Draco told me to
check up on the lot of you. He contacted
me several days ago and told me about
the plan - Merlin, that boy's risky as
anything and I was worried sick. He said
that once he and Theo got themselves
captured by the Order, the four of you
wouldn't be safe in Godric's Hollow
anymore."
Hermione felt her insides twist painfully.
"So - Draco and Theo are prisoners
now?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Luna's been out
since six this morning to check, and she's
due back anytime soon. After the Protean
charms on the phials lit last night, I knew
that Draco and the others had officially
defected. So I left Teddy with my house-
elf and came over to the safehouse, but
the lot of you had disappeared by then."
"Protean charms?" Hermione frowned,
before recognition swiftly dawned on
her. "You mean - "
"Yes," Andromeda drew out a thin black
cord that hung loosely around her neck.
On the bottom of the cord sat a familiar
looking phial. "The incantation that
Draco created for me is different, so it
doesn't always light, unless in the most
crucial of situations. It was lit last night,
and I waited around for the four of you
to return."
Hermione briefly recalled how Draco
had once told her that the incantation he
gave to her was a potent one. Help will
come, he'd said, and he was right. The
phials didn't just connect her to the other
Slytherins; it connected her to
Andromeda as well.
"Anyway, Pansy and Luna were the first
to return," Andromeda continued, as she
reached across the table to hand Teddy a
biscuit. "Then you and Blaise came
back. After we fixed your wounds, we
packed everything up and left Godric's
Hollow. Blaise and Pansy just went to
bed two hours ago. It's safe here,
Hermione," Andromeda added, when
she saw the worried look on the
brunette's face. "The Order's
headquarters is nearby, and this house
has enough protection spells to ward off
any and every attack."
Hermione was about to question further
when the back door opened and Luna
entered in a flurry. The blonde witch
looked exhausted, dark circles lined her
eyes but she smiled brightly at them.
"Hello, Hermione, how're you feeling?
How's your leg?"
"Better, thank you. Have you any news
about Draco?" Hermione couldn't help
but ask. She could've sworn she saw a
knowing smile play on Andromeda's lips
and she hastily extended her concern.
"Or Theo?"
"Yes," Luna returned, shrugging out of
her coat and reaching over to pat Teddy
lightly on the head. "Draco, Theo and
two other Death-Eaters have been
transferred over to the headquarters. I
hear that the Order only managed to
capture four - the rest of the Death-
Eaters escaped when the Dark Lord
arrived with reinforcements."
"What about our side?" Andromeda
asked in concern, and Hermione bit her
lip. She'd never really picked a side, but
it was apparent that she was clearly on
the Order's side now. It now felt like a
proper war. Hermione didn't know
whether to feel happy or worried about
that.
The light seemed to go out of Luna's
eyes. "Not too good. Apparently, we lost
a lot of the new recruits at Gringotts.
And some of our best fighters have been
captured by You-Know-Who. I hear that
Ginny, Dean and the Patil twins are
missing."
"Ginny?" Hermione felt a jolt of
surprise, and her arms automatically
tightened around Teddy. "Ginny
Weasley?"
Luna nodded sombrely. "I haven't talked
to any of the D.A. - "
"D.A.?"
"Dumbledore's Army," Luna explained,
and Hermione was glad that her friend
wasn't treading on eggshells around her.
Hermione had forgotten a lot, and she
was still struggling at times, but it was
nice to know that there were people
eager to help her regain her memory, but
not impatient enough to rush her about it.
"You, Harry and Ron were the ones who
started it during our fifth-year at
Hogwarts. Anyway, I haven't talked to
any of the D.A. because most of them are
either missing or incapacitated. Neville
and Ron are searching for You-Know-
Who's base."
"Naturally," Andromeda hummed in
agreement. "I imagine Ronald Weasley
would be very upset about his sister
being missing."
"Not as upset as Harry. Harry's already a
shell of himself ever since he lost to
You-Know-Who, but now he's just
completely given up."
A disappointed silence settled between
them. Even the ever-optimistic Luna
seemed at a complete loss. But
Hermione had participated in her fair
share of defeats for the past three years
to know that there was still hope at a
time like this. At times, it wasn't so much
a war against You-Know-Who than it
was a war against oneself. She
wondered if Harry Potter had his own
monsters to face just as she had hers.
She picked up Teddy and placed him
back in his chair, kissing him gently on
the forehead when he murmured her
name again. Then she turned to Luna.
"We'll figure out a way. We just have to
get Draco and Theo out of their cells,
and the six of us can think of something -
I'm sure of that."
"I don't think it's that easy," Luna said,
matter-of-factly, "Draco's one of the
Death-Eaters that the Order's been
tracking down for a long time now. I
don't think the Order will release him."
Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. She
felt a lump lodge itself in her throat as
she thought about Draco being
imprisoned for days on end. "But we
need them! Both of them!"
Andromeda patted her on the hand
sympathetically. "I'll see what I can do.
I'll talk to the Order after breakfast. I
promised Draco that I'd get him and
Theo out, even if it may take a little
time."
Hermione sighed. A little time? How
long was that going to take - hours, days
or weeks? Her mind was reeling as she
thought about the situation. Once Pansy
and Blaise got up, perhaps she could
convince them to go on a little rescuing
mission with her.
After a moment of silence, Luna climbed
to her feet with a tranquil smile on her
face. "Well, I'm going back to the
Order," she said breezily, before turning
to Hermione. "Do you want to come
along? You can join in the next mission,
I'm sure Neville would love to have you
on the team."
Now panic really seized her, and
Hermione took three steady breaths to
calm herself. "No, but thank you, Luna,"
she hastily said, gripping the edge of the
table tightly. "I'd like to be here with
Pansy and Blaise."
"Oh, alright," Luna looked faintly
disappointed, but there was a glimmer of
understanding in her eyes. She took her
coat, along with an English muffin from
the plate and headed towards the back
door. "Bye, Hermione. Bye,
Andromeda."
The door swung shut behind Luna, and
Andromeda turned to Hermione.
"Listen," the older witch said, her voice
lowered in an almost conspiratorial
whisper, "I don't know how quickly I'll
be able to convince the Order to let
Draco and Theo go. But they're probably
being held in the east wing of the
headquarters, somewhere on the second
floor. Take Pansy and Blaise with you,
and get them out if you can. We'll hide
them here."
A smile flitted across Hermione's face
and she breathed in relief, gladdened to
have someone else on her side.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I can't bear seeing my
nephew and his friend locked up like
that." Andromeda shook her head, before
reaching for a familiar piece of fabric
draped over a chair and handing it over
to Hermione. "Here's your Cloak. Good
luck, Hermione."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco had woken up to the sound of a

familiar voice swearing nineteen to the
dozen. Theo. There were two other
people yelling across the room. One was
Guthrie Rhodes, which wasn't a surprise
because he'd been quickly captured the
night before. The other was Rodolphus
Lestrange, Bellatrix's husband and, by
extension, his uncle.
Draco felt his heart beat in trepidation.
Rodolphus was a Death-Eater almost as
sly and cunning as Bellatrix. Capturing
Rodolphus wasn't a good move on the
Order's part; the Dark Lord would now
be searching for two of his top Death-
Eaters - Draco and Rodolphus. The
stakes were so much higher now.
Draco frowned and pushed himself into
a sitting position. The cell was small,
almost claustrophobic, without any
ventilation except for a small door that
barely came up to his knees, sealed with
hardy metal bars.
"I'm not going to fucking pee in this
shite-hole," Theo's voice was loud and
echoed through the entire place. Draco
would've laughed in any other situation,
but right now, Theo was just giving him
a bloody headache. "It's too unsanitary."
"Then hold it in!" Came a gruff reply
from one of the guards outside. Draco
thought the voice sounded somewhat
familiar, but he couldn't place a finger on
it. "You're a prisoner now, so keep your
mouth shut."
"I'lll kill you!" Rodolphus roared back,
from his own cell. Draco winced as the
sheer decibel half-deafened him. "The
Dark Lord will return for us, and I'll kill
you with my bare hands. Do you hear
me?"
Merlin, his uncle was just as insane as
his aunt was. Draco rolled his eyes and
lay back down on the bench. "Uncle,
dearest," he drawled loudly, knowing
that everyone in the other prison cells
could hear him. "Do shut up now. There
wouldn't be an element of surprise if you
tell the bloody Order about our revenge
plans."
There was a beat of silence.
And then Rodolphus's voice broke the
momentary calm. "Draco? Is that you?"
"Last time I checked."
"What the hell is going on, Draco?"
"Yeah," this was Guthrie's voice now,
"did Zabini really defect?"
"Apparently so," Draco replied calmly,
sticking to the same ignorance he'd
assumed the day before and hoping that
Theo would keep his mouth shut and do
the same. "Zabini and Parkinson sold us
out to the Order. We should've known
that the attack on Gringotts was just a
decoy."
"Bloody Goyle," Rodolphus growled
angrily. "If he hadn't summoned us to
Gringotts, we wouldn't have left the
Manor unguarded."
Draco almost heaved a sigh of relief at
that. Thank Merlin his uncle had bought
the story, and blamed Goyle Senior for
the failed mission instead of him.
"Blame your own incompetency," the
guard outside retorted sharply, clearly
having eavesdropped on their
conversation and unable to stop himself
from offering his own opinions. "The
Order's far stronger than you give it
credit for. And when You-Know-Who
returns, we'll be more than ready to
defeat him and the rest of his equally
inept army."
"The Dark Lord will destroy you and the
rest of the Order - "
And as Rodolphus continued to yell at
the guards, Draco lifted a hand and cast
a wordless Muffliato on his ears. He
leaned his head back down on the bench
and shut his eyes, hoping against hope
that Hermione was alright and safe.
Merlin, it had been less than twelve
hours and her absence already left an
empty, gaping hole in his gut.
But there was nothing he could do, short
of getting himself and Theo out of here.
He could, he knew he could, even while
wandless. But it would just provoke the
Order, and Andromeda had promised
she'd get him out herself.
It was just a waiting game from here on
out.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione spent the rest of the morning

with Teddy as she waited for Pansy and
Blaise to get up. Teddy was a cheerful,
happy child, and she felt a certain
wistfulness tug at her when she was with
him. Once upon a time, she was just as
sheltered as he was - content to live in a
small apartment, surrounded by the
people she loved, safe with Draco.
But now that 17-65 had defected,
Hermione found herself in a constant
state of worry. Was it always going to be
like this? Always the pressure of having
to make the best in a war, having to fight,
having to survive?
Hermione pushed those thoughts aside
momentarily and focused on making
Teddy laugh. Draco had told her some
time ago that Teddy was a
Metamorphmagi just like his mother,
Nymphadora. Hermione was thrilled to
learn that when Teddy laughed, some
parts of his hair streaked pink before
fading back to its original colour when
he stopped.
Sometime later, Blaise awoke and
entered the kitchen sleepily. After
thanking Hermione profusely for getting
him to safety the previous night, he
headed into the kitchen to make lunch,
just in time as Pansy came stumbling
down the stairs, her black hair in
completely disarray.
"I was just talking to Hermione about
going to rescue Draco and Theo," Blaise
said to Pansy, when she settled down at
the table.
Pansy nodded, using her wand to conjure
a blue butterfly for Teddy, who laughed
happily and watched in fascination. "I'm
with you on that," she said, nodding at
both Hermione and Blaise. "The five of
us have to stick together. It seems so
strange without the other two."
"Andromeda's trying to get them out,"
Hermione said, before relaying the
information that Andromeda had given
her, along with a piece of paper that had
a hurried incantation scribbled on it.
The three made plans over lunch and
before they left, Hermione left Teddy
with the house-elf, Grus, just like
Andromeda had told her to. Then they
made their way out of the house and
began a slow trek towards the
headquarters after Blaise had placed a
Disillusionment charm on himself and
Pansy.
Hermione had her Cloak wrapped
around her, along with a small satchel
with an Extension Charm that contained
healing potions, just in case. The journey
was filled with a tense silence, and
Hermione soon realised that Pansy and
Blaise were dead set on reuniting with
Draco and Theo, even at the expense of
putting their lives in danger.
"The sky's getting dark," Pansy said after
awhile. "Blaise, do you think we're
getting close? We've just past the seventh
willow tree like Andromeda told us to."
"Hold on." Hermione felt Blaise brush
past her. He muttered the incantation that
Andromeda had given them.
Immediately, the air in front of them
seemed to shift. Hermione detected a
soft shimmer of magic as an invisible
shield slowly parted in front of them,
revealing an old, stately building behind.
"Merlin," Pansy breathed, sounding
utterly awed. "How did they come up
with this?"
Blaise let out a chuckle of disbelief. "I
have no idea. McGonagall's work,
probably?"
"Hold on, let me get something straight.
This place is invisible with the shield.
But is it also intangible? Like, if we
were Muggles, could we walk right
through it?"
"Beats me."
Hermione laughed softly, but she
understood Pansy's fascination. It was
probably the most complex spell she'd
ever seen, and she was very much
impressed. Obviously, the Order wasn't
taking any chances now that they had lost
so many people.
She felt Pansy grip her arm as they
quietly made their way towards the
building. "Okay," Blaise said, his voice
low and almost inaudible as they neared
the side door. "Follow the plan. Pansy,
you'll search for Draco and Theo's
wands - Andromeda said that the
confiscated wands are somewhere in the
basement. I'll find Draco and Theo, and
Hermione, you'll watch my back,
alright?"
"Got it," Hermione said, and held her
breath as Blaise whispered another
incantation to unlock the door. Once
inside, Hermione felt her nerves tingle
with anxiety. The main hall was empty,
but there were distant sounds of chatter
in a room someway off, and the constant
patter of feet as people traipsed through
the hallway and down the many
corridors.
Pansy immediately disappeared off to
the basement, and then it was just she
and Blaise. She kept close to him as they
made their way up the stairs, scarcely
avoiding several people along the way.
It didn't take long before they found
themselves standing in front of a narrow
corridor with two Order members
guarding the door at the end.
"Wait right here," Blaise told Hermione,
and she felt him step away from her.
A moment later, she saw red lights shoot
towards the guards. They collapsed in an
almost graceful manner that couldn't
have been possible without the use of
another spell. Then she felt Blaise grip
her arm and the pressed forward. He
murmured another incantation under his
breath that swiftly unlocked the door.
The room was dimmed, lined with a row
of cells and people standing guard in
front of each cell. But Hermione's lips
tugged up in relief when she heard a
familiar voice grumbling in the
background.
Theo.
But her joy was short-lived, because the
moment the two of them stepped in, a
high-pitched siren reverberated
throughout the entire building. The
guards immediately sprang into action,
pointing their wands in the direction of
the door.
"Who's there?" One of the guards said,
waving his wand so that the alarm
stopped abruptly. Hermione vaguely
recognised him as Oliver Wood, from
one of the Hogwarts yearbooks she'd
read back at the apartment. "Show
yourself, or we won't hesitate to hex
you."
Blaise swore under his breath, hastily
pushing Hermione behind him as he
removed his own Disillusionment
charm. Immediately, the tension
heightened and Hermione felt her breath
catch as she took in the volatile
situation. Even though she was shielded
by the Cloak, she worried for Blaise,
who could easily trigger off a
bombardment of hexes if he wasn't
careful.
"Okay," Blaise began, "listen - you guys
know me, right? Blaise Zabini? Fellow
Hogwarts schoolmate? Come on - Justin,
Katie, Michael - come on, you remember
me, don't you?"
"You received the Dark Mark," Michael
shook his head, "doesn't matter if we
remember you, Zabini. We can't trust
you."
"But I defected," Blaise returned in faint
amusement, and Hermione marvelled at
how calm he could sound in such a
situation. "I did make myself explicitly
clear last night at the Manor, didn't I?"
"Even then," one of the other guards
directed his wand at Blaise. "Stupefy!"
Blaise didn't even flinch. He had held up
his wand in a flash to deflect the spell
with a stronger one that sent the guard
flying back. But it wasn't the wisest
move. Immediately, a barrage of spells
flew at Blaise, and he reached out a
hand to push Hermione into the corner,
holding up a protective shield in front of
him.
Hermione was just contemplating on
revealing herself to stop the chaos, but
something caught her eye in her
peripheral vision. Someone, from inside
one of the cells, had summoned the wand
from the guard whom Blaise had hexed
unconscious earlier. And a split second
later, the walls of the cell was blasted
open.
Rodolphus Lestrange stepped out, a
borrowed wand in hand. Hermione
remembered him so vividly because he'd
stood by laughing when Bellatrix had
tortured her in the Malfoy Manor years
ago. The tension skyrocketed as
Rodolphus joined in the fight, and
everything after that happened far too
quickly for Hermione to register. Spells
flew across the room in every different
direction as Rodolphus single-handedly
battled the six other guards in the room.
A particularly fiery spell from Oliver
was easily evaded, but it exploded into
the cells behind Rodolphus.
And then Hermione breathed a sigh of
relief as she saw Draco, Theo and
another Death-Eater step out from their
cells, matching looks of wariness on
their faces. The three Death-Eaters were
immediately made new targets, but
Draco and Theo easily avoided them.
The last one, on the other hand, wasn't as
lucky, and Hermione gasped when she
saw him crushed under a powerful
Reducto that Katie Bell shot at him.
"Stay here, Hermione. I have to help
them," Blaise hissed quickly at her over
his shoulder, before rushing through the
crowd towards Draco and Theo,
deflecting any curse that the guards shot
their way.
There was nothing Hermione could do
except to stay in her corner, but when
she saw Katie flung back by a powerful
curse, she quickly rushed over to the
girl, pouring a small portion of healing
potion into Katie's mouth.
She kept an eye on Draco from her
corner of the room, noticing how he
swiftly exchanged words with Theo and
Blaise. She saw Blaise handing his
wand over to Draco, before rushing
towards Rodolphus and physically
taking him down, kneeling roughly on
Rodolphus's arm so that the man couldn't
cast another spell.
"Zabini, what the hell are you doing?"
Rodolphus's face was red and he was
half choking with furious rage. Hermione
quickly took the opportunity to hurry
across the room, checking up on Justin
Finch-Fletchley, who had taken a
particularly nasty stinging hex to his
abdomen and now lay unconscious.
The room was now seized with a
surprised silence, and Blaise lifted his
head to look at the other Order members.
"Now do you believe me? I'm on your
side."
Oliver and Michael seemed to falter, but
one of the other guards glared at Draco
and Theo. "They're Death-Eaters! He's
You-Know-Who's right-hand man! Why
the hell are we still hesitating?" He
yelled, drawing back his wand to cast
another spell at Draco.
A sudden wave of protectiveness surged
through Hermione and she quickly
discarded the Cloak, rushing over to
place herself between the guard's path
and Draco. She could physically feel
their shock, hear the echoes of gasps in
the room. Everyone stared at her with
open-mouthed amazement, but she fought
the claustrophobia and panic in her chest
and took a deep breath.
"Please don't," she said quietly. She
supposed they all knew her - but it felt
like she was staring back at a bunch of
strangers. Nevertheless, she lifted her
lips in a tiny smile and nodded at them.
"They're good people, I promise.
They've kept me safe all this while."
"Shit," Michael breathed, staring at
Hermione in disbelief. "Hermione?"
"What are you doing here?" One of the
others said, "we thought you - "
But the rest of the sentence was left
hanging as Rodolphus suddenly
struggled and pushed Blaise aside with a
surprising amount of strength, pushing
his way past the guards to get to
Hermione. It happened so quickly that no
one could react in time, and Hermione
found her throat clog and oxygen leave
her lungs as the tip of his wand was
suddenly brought to her neck.
He was going to kill her.
"You filthy mudblood," he spat, eyes
narrowing as he pressed the wand tighter
against her throat, her hands futilely
coming up to push him, anything, to get
him away from her. "Avad - "
But the words never left his lips, and
Hermione suddenly felt herself
wrenched out of the way. Then Draco
was face to face with Rodolphus, his
silver eyes glinting with barely-
restrained fury as he wrenched the wand
from his uncle's grasp.
Rodolphus's eyes widened with horror.
"Draco, what are you - "
Hermione knew that Draco had killed
before. But she'd never actually seen it
in action, seen the way his eyes glossed
over with something like emotionless
monotony and hard, excruciating self-
loathing, the way his fingers always
tightened on the wand with deadly
purpose.
He spoke with such calmness that it
almost seemed like he was speaking
normally, and not uttering the most
deadly of all spells.
"Avada Kedavra."
Rodolphus's eyes glazed over at the next
instant and his lifeless body collapsed at
Draco's feet. Draco took a step back,
and turned to Hermione, his eyes
flickering with sheer relief. "Are you
alright?"
Disregarding their audience completely,
Hermione let out a choked sob and
launched herself into Draco's arms. Her
eyes were dry and she was still reeling
from the shock of being so close to
death, but more than anything, she was
just glad that Draco was there.
"Thank you," she whispered to him, and
felt his arms encircle her quickly, his
lips glossing her forehead with a
tenderness that made her ache.
"Told you I'd keep you safe, Granger."
A gasp of disbelief from one of the
guards pulled Hermione back to the
matter at hand. She reluctantly pulled
back, a protective expression on her face
as she stared down at the Order
members. "Draco, Blaise, Theo and
Pansy are all good," she repeated firmly,
"I've been living with them for the past
few months. They've been helping to
keep You-Know-Who off the Order's
scent for three years. They're not going
to betray you, you have my word."
"Shit," one of them said, and Hermione
belatedly recognised him as Anthony
Goldstein, one of her fellow
schoolmates from Hogwarts. "Did they
use the Imperius curse on you?"
She blinked. "What?"
"It's got to be that," Anthony said to the
others, disregarding the angry growl that
escaped Draco's throat. "Either that or
Amortentia."
"I'm not - "
But before she could finish, Anthony had
flung a stinging hex at Draco, who barely
deflected it with his hand. And then the
fight ensued, with Draco using Blaise's
wand to deflect the hexes. Hermione
quickly tossed hers to Theo, who eagerly
joined in, while she protected herself
and Blaise with the Cloak.
"This is getting out of hand!" Blaise
yelled at her, amidst the commotion. He
had retrieved a stray wand from Katie's
incapacitated form and was now
deflecting hexes with powerful shields.
Hermione wholeheartedly agreed with
his words, and was just about to open
her mouth to reply when a formidable
presence stepped into the room. She
vaguely recognised him as Kingsley
Shacklebolt, and a group of Order
members followed him behind, dragging
a screaming, shrieking Pansy across the
floor, tied up tightly in shiny black
ropes.
At the sound of Pansy's screams, the
fighting abruptly ceased. Hermione felt
her heart sink as she saw Shacklebolt
slam the door shut, preventing anyone
from escaping. Andromeda had warned
that there were anti-apparition wards in
the east wing to prevent any prisoner
from leaving. And now it was too late to
run.
"What the hell is going on?" Shacklebolt
thundered, glaring down at the group.
Hermione instinctively found herself
sidling closer to Draco, slipping her
fingers through his. She was glad when
he held her tightly, shifting so that he
was standing slightly in front of her.
"These Death-Eaters say that they've
defected, sir," Oliver Wood was the first
to break the silence. "And apparently,
they've been housing Hermione Granger
for the past few months."
"Hermione Granger?"
Shacklebolt turned to Hermione, who
suddenly felt about two feet tall as she
stared up at the man, as well as the
crowd of Order members standing
behind him. Some of them seemed
astonished to see her, others doubtful.
The most doubtful one of all was
Shacklebolt, who stared at Hermione as
though he couldn't believe his eyes. Then
his eyes narrowed and she was certain
that the situation had once again turned
against them when Luna came bursting
into the room, flinging the door open
behind her. She looked rather out of
breath, but her face was drawn tight with
worry.
"Sir," she hastily said, stepping towards
Hermione and raising her arms, as
though to defend the group against the
Order. "They're telling the truth. I've
been living with Draco and the others
for several weeks now, and Hermione
has been living with them."
"Step aside, Luna," Shacklebolt returned
calmly. "I will not allow Death-Eaters to
roam about in the Order's headquarters.
It's too risky. We even found this one
trying to break into our vault of wands to
steal them," he looked down at Pansy,
who glared back at him angrily. Turning
to the group behind him, Shacklebolt
gave a short nod. "Put them into the
cells. All of them."
"What?" Theo yelped, struggling as one
of the Order members shot an
Incarcerous at him. "But we've defected!
We're fucking good now!"
Hermione tried to grab Theo before he
could be taken away, but she was
quickly restrained by Oliver. And then
she let out a cry when she found herself
pulled away from Draco, who seemed
utterly furious by the turn of events. But,
for some reason, he seemed reluctant to
use any magic to retaliate and she
couldn't help but wonder why he was
giving up without a fight.
It wasn't until Anthony Goldstein latched
his fingers around Hermione to drag her
into her individual cell when Draco lost
his cool. "Don't fucking touch her!" He
warned, his voice deadly as he lunged
back at the wizard. "Goldstein, I fucking
swear, if you put her into a cell, I will -
"
But he was quickly hit by a Silencing
charm and dragged off into the nearest
cell. Shacklebolt reached for Hermione,
but Luna now stepped up, holding out
her wand protectively in front of herself
and Hermione. "Sir, if Harry Potter finds
out that you've forced his best friend to
go through rounds of testing for spells
and curses, he's not going to be happy.
Neither will Neville or Ronald, if they
were to hear about this."
"Harry Potter is no longer a means to
win the battle and you know that, Ms
Lovegood. Now step aside, or I will
forcibly remove you."
"Then at least give her one night.
Hermione's tired and she needs to rest.
You can test her in the morning."
Shacklebolt took a step closer to Luna,
who held her ground. Finally, after what
seemed like forever, he gave a sharp nod
and turned to leave. "One night," he
acceded, waving the other Order
members after him. "Clear out the
rubble, dispose of the bodies. I want this
place guarded from the outside. I want
the doors charmed and locked down
tight. Keep the four in their cells at all
times. Lovegood, take Ms Granger's
things and come with me."
The rest of the Order left, with some of
them standing guard outside the room.
Hermione suddenly found herself
wandless, cloakless, and left alone in the
room. Not entirely alone, of course,
because the four Slytherins were still
locked up. She quickly found Draco's
cell and settled down on the gravelly
floor, slipping her fingers through the
gaps between the metal bars. A moment
later, she felt his fingers slide across to
meet hers, and she smiled.
He was here and that was enough.
After awhile, Theo let out a hollow
chuckle that broke the silence. "That
went well," he sounded both tired and
amused. "And you thought defecting
would be a fucking piece of cake,
Blaise."
Blaise sighed loudly from his cell.
"Yeah, okay, that one's on me."
29 | serpensortia

29
s er pens or ti a
Conjures a snake.

Hermione remained by Draco's cell for

the rest of the night. She listened to
Theo's grumblings and Blaise's words of
comfort to Pansy, who had screamed
herself hoarse earlier in a futile attempt
to keep from anyone finding out about
the rescue mission.
Draco, on the other hand, was
surprisingly silent throughout and
Hermione gripped his fingers tight
between the metal bars. She wondered if
his silence had something to do with him
killing his uncle right in front of her. It
was probably that.
Sometime later, the door creaked open
and Luna entered, along with two guards
trailing behind her. She carried several
trays of food, and slipped each through
the four separate cell doors. Then she set
the last one in front of Hermione.
"Shacklebolt wants to know if you'd like
a room to stay for the night," Luna said
softly to Hermione. She looked rather
frazzled; as though she'd spent hours
running around putting out fires
everywhere. "He's not very happy that
you're here with them but he still
welcomes you all the same."
"Well, I'm not leaving," Hermione said
adamantly. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Okay," Luna nodded understandingly
and climbed to her feet. "I'll see you in
the morning, Hermione."
She threw another fleeting glance at the
four cells, but after a moment's
hesitation, she left with the guards. The
door shut with a click and silence
descended upon the room once again.
Hermione picked listlessly at the food
on her tray, but she couldn't summon an
appetite.
"I miss being a Death-Eater," Theo's
chirpy voice broke the silence at last. He
sounded so cheerful that she couldn't
help but quirk her lips into a brief smile.
"What the hell, Theo," Blaise fired back.
Hermione could almost imagine him
rolling his eyes. "If anyone outside hears
that we're going to be in trouble - "
"But it's true. At least the food didn't
taste so fucking shite when we were
Death-Eaters."
"In other words," Pansy drawled, slyly,
her voice still sounding rather hoarse.
"You're saying that you miss Blaise's
cooking."
"Fuck, no - "
"Aw, Theo," Blaise said, with
exaggerated affection. "That's really
sweet."
"You know what I don't miss?"
"Your face?" This snub came from
Draco, and Hermione couldn't stop the
chuckle that slipped past her lips. She
felt Draco's fingers tighten on hers and
she eased back against the wall of his
cell, listening to the Slytherins bicker in
their usual fashion.
And, for a moment, she forgot that they
were locked up in the thick of war, with
the Order turned against them. With
them, everything seemed normal and
safe.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

But this was not to last. As soon as the

sun's first rays streaked through the
windows, the doors burst open and
Kingsley Shacklebolt entered. Hermione
instinctively drew away, her back
pressed against the wall of Draco's cell.
Several other members of the Order
followed him, and she didn't miss the
way their eyes latched onto her with
blatant curiosity.
"Ms Granger," Shacklebolt levelled her
with an even gaze. "You need to come
with us. We need to have you checked
for any potions or curses."
Hermione felt Draco's grasp loosen from
hers as he began to pull back, but she
latched firmly onto him. "I will if you let
my friends out of their cells," she said,
with a steadiness she didn't realised she
possessed, "otherwise I'm not going
anywhere."
"Ms Granger - "
"No, I won't!" She insisted heatedly,
feeling a wave of anger surge through
her. "They did nothing wrong! All they
wanted to do was to help the Order, and
if you'd just listen or give them a chance,
you'll realise that they don't deserve to
be locked up."
Shacklebolt simply turned to the guard
standing next to him. "Take her away."
Hermione's eyes widened as Anthony
Goldstein directed his wand at her. She
twisted her body just as she heard a loud
"Stupefy!". The spell zipped past,
narrowly missing her by just an inch.
She heard Draco swear from inside his
cell and Pansy gasp.
"You don't fucking use magic against
someone who doesn't have a wand!"
Theo yelled, sounding absolutely livid.
"You're all such assholes, and you call
yourselves the bloody Order?"
"Just test her in here," came Blaise's
voice, calm and reasonable in an attempt
to negotiate with Shacklebolt. "She
doesn't want to leave Draco and you're
all just making things worse."
But Blaise's words fell on deaf ears as
two other guards shot stunning spells at
Hermione. She ducked swiftly, her hands
and knees bloody from scrapping it
against the rough gravel each time she
rolled out of the way.
Amidst the buzzing in her ears, she heard
Draco swear one more time in the
distance. "Fuck it," he muttered and then
there was a clatter as he hurled
something at the wall of his cell.
What happened next was something she
hadn't in a million years pre-empted. A
black snake slithered out between the
metal bars of Draco's cell, its
movements far too swift to react to. She
registered the sounds of horrified yells
and screams in the background as the
guards all retreated, but somewhere
within her subconscious, she
remembered learning that snakes reacted
to movement and the wisest thing was to
stay still.
For a moment, she felt fear grip her heart
as she recalled how she'd seen Nagini
just days ago. This snake looked nothing
like Nagini, but it was a snake and it
was lethal all the same. Just as she was
about to start panicking, the snake
swiftly transformed back into Draco, a
transformation was so quick and well-
rehearsed that she almost thought she'd
imagined the whole thing. But he was
there, standing outside of his cell, his
form tall and imposing as he stood in
front of her almost defensively.
"For fuck's sake," Draco swore, and as
much as Hermione was still reeling from
leftover astonishment, she couldn't help
but smile at his usual arrogant manner.
"We didn't defect to be placed into cells.
Did you really think that we've been
staying in these bloody cells because we
couldn't get out? If you don't want us
here, we'd be more than happy to leave."
"Oh, they are definitely leaving!" Came
a familiar voice by the doorway.
Andromeda pushed her way through the
crowd in a flurry, an appalled look on
her face, with Luna trailing behind her.
Luna discreetly shot a smile at
Hermione, and she breathed in relief.
Thank Merlin for Luna, who had
probably been running around the whole
night trying to find a way to help them.
"Kingsley," Andromeda headed straight
to Shacklebolt, determination clear in
her features. "McGonagall promised me
that my nephew and his friends were
under interrogation, not incarceration.
Does she have any idea how you run
things around here? Because I daresay
she will not be pleased!"
Shacklebolt narrowed his eyes at her.
"Andromeda, they are Death-Eaters - "
"Defected Death-Eaters!" Andromeda
fired back evenly. "You're going to let
them out and they'll be staying with me,
since they're clearly not welcome
anywhere else and - "
Hermione found herself tuning out the
conversation when Draco turned to pull
her to her feet. His grasp was unusually
gentle, as though she was a fragile doll
that could easily break, and she
immediately wound her arms around him
tightly, burying her face against his chest.
The sheer terror of having him captured
for so long suddenly came crashing back
down on her, and she choked back a sob,
willing herself not to break down.
"Granger," Draco's voice was soft as his
arms encircled her. His usual masculine
scent was intermingled with blood and
sweat but, somehow, that seemed fitting
at a time like this. She was just glad that
he was here. He pulled back, grasping
her face between his calloused palms to
stare at her intently. "Are you alright?"
She nodded frantically, glad that his
body was turned to shield her away from
prying eyes. Unable to help herself, she
quickly pushed herself up on the tips of
her toes, and pressed her lips against
his. His lips were warm and
intoxicating; she felt his breath hitch
momentarily as her sudden action took
him by surprise. It was impossible for
her to rationalise why she did it, but she
figured that if Draco could kiss her in the
middle of a destroyed room, then she
could kiss him in the middle of a tense
situation.
Draco groaned low in his throat and
kissed her back swiftly; nipping her lips
with hot, feverish pecks until she was
almost certain she had forgotten her
name. It wasn't a passionate kiss by any
means, just a desperate, relieved one,
and Hermione eased back a little when
she heard several surprised gasps from
the other end of the room.
She smiled up at Draco, her eyes
sparkling and bright. "I'm glad you're
here."
His gaze softened, and he opened his
mouth to say something more. But
Andromeda stepped up to them at that
moment, placing a comforting hand on
his shoulder. "Shacklebolt says it's
alright for the five of you to stay with
me," she said to Draco.
Draco nodded, turning to see the guards
letting his friends out of their respective
cells. Hermione quickly slipped away
from his side and he watched as she
threw her arms around Theo in relief,
before doing the same to Pansy and
Blaise.
"But we're going to have to be on total
lockdown," Andromeda continued
soberly, and Draco turned back to her,
focusing on the matter at hand. "Meaning
that you can't leave the premises. I'm
still in the midst of negotiating with him,
so I'll discuss the rest with you later."
"So you're saying that we're still
prisoners, just in your home?"
"I'm sorry, Draco."
"Don't be, 'Dromeda," he shook his head,
still keeping his eyes on Hermione. Her
face was alight with sheer happiness as
she conversed with the other Slytherins.
She met his gaze across the room, the
smile on her lips widening
instantaneously and seeming to light the
dark room altogether. "I'm sure the
others will be more than pleased with
the new arrangement."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The stay in the Order's prison had

clearly taken its toll on the four
Slytherins. Hermione wasn't surprised to
see Blaise and Pansy trudge back up to
their room the moment they returned
back to Andromeda's house, while Theo
headed into the guestroom opposite
theirs, collapsing down on his bed
without another snarky remark.
Draco, on the other hand, didn't seem
tired at all. He paused by the doorway
when Grus, the house-elf, brought in
Teddy, and Hermione could practically
see the array of emotions flicker across
Draco's face at that moment. Surprise,
relief, happiness and a tangible wave of
guilt.
Teddy immediately struggled out of
Grus's hands, causing the elf to set him
down abruptly. Then Teddy was
reaching for Draco, who immediately
crossed the threshold to pick the boy up
in his arms. "Hey, Ted," Draco said
quietly, and Hermione realised that
Draco had never spoken to anyone with
those soft tones before except, perhaps,
when he spoke to her.
Andromeda watched as Teddy babbled
happily, stringing together incoherent
sentences as he looped his arms round
Draco's neck. "He's been asking for you
a lot lately," she told Draco, smiling
fondly at the both of them. "You're
probably the only other person he
remembers."
Draco glanced at her briefly. "What
about the Order?"
Andromeda shook her head. "You know
the Order isn't what it once was," she
sighed, pulling off her coat and draping
it on the nearby stand. "I don't think
they'd be very sympathetic to cater to a
child's needs. I don't let them visit us
often, so it's always just been the three
of us. And you, when you drop by, of
course."
There was a faint pause as Hermione
saw Draco tighten his arms around
Teddy, looking almost guilty about his
frequent absence from their lives. He
wasn't to blame, though. Hermione knew
that Draco's position as top Death-Eater
was risky in every sense of the word,
and visiting Andromeda on the sly was
probably a very difficult task.
But she was pulled out of her little
reverie when Andromeda placed a hand
on her shoulder. "Hermione, would you
put the kettle on to boil? Shacklebolt's
going to be here any moment now and I
want to prepare some tea, just in case.
Come on, Draco, I'll show you to your
room. I cleared out the room on the third
floor for you, I hope you don't mind
staying there."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at
Andromeda's words. Her room was on
the second floor with the other
Slytherins and the mere thought of not
being in the same room as Draco left a
weary gripping nervousness in her heart.
What if she had nightmares again?
Draco had clearly noticed her
consternation, and he paused to smirk at
her briefly just before Andromeda led
him and Teddy off, a knowing glint in his
eyes as he met her gaze. Hermione
frowned, wondering if she were that
easy to read, and headed into the kitchen.
Some minutes later, there came a knock
on the door, followed by the shrill
ringing of the doorbell. When
Andromeda didn't return, Hermione took
a deep breath, steeled herself and went
to answer the door.
She didn't expect to come face to face
with Neville Longbottom.
He was standing beside Kingsley
Shacklebolt, and Luna was behind them,
but Hermione's attention was solely
concentrated on him. She remembered
every bit of him from the yearbooks
she'd seen, as well as bits and pieces of
the past. Neville had been a constant
back during her Hogwarts days; kind and
generous and loyal; but so much time had
passed since then. Looking at him was
both familiar and unfamiliar at the same
time.
She was certain that the shock on his
face mirrored hers. "Hermione?"
Neville gasped, his eyes wide and
round. "Luna said you were - but...I don't
understand, when - "
Hermione's lips curled up in a faint
smile. "Hey, Neville," she said at last,
lifting a polite hand for him to shake.
He shook, as though in a trance, but
blinked in confusion. "Luna told me...is
it true?"
"I'm afraid so," Hermione admitted, "but
it's really nice to see you again."
His mouth was still ajar as he stared at
her in disbelief. She desperately wanted
to remember everything about Neville,
but he was so much a person of the past
that she knew warming up to him was
going to take some time.
Thankfully, Kingsley Shacklebolt took
matters into his own hands and stepped
into the living room, glancing around
with his sharp, shrewd gaze. "Is
Andromeda here?"
"She's upstairs," Hermione said, finding
a strange sense of relief to focus on
Shacklebolt's question, instead of
Neville's disjointed ones. "She'll be
down in a minute."
"And the others - "
"They're in their rooms, sir. Would you
like some tea?"
Shacklebolt agreed and Hermione
nervously led the three of them into the
house. She was more than glad for
Luna's presence, and the blonde witch
calmly helped her to get ready the cups
of tea and slices of cakes, laying the
food on the dining table. Hermione could
feel Neville's shocked gaze on her
throughout, following her every
movement closely, as though he could
hardly believe that she was right in front
of him.
"Kingsley!"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when
Andromeda rushed down the stairs at
last, with Draco following her at a more
leisurely pace. Neville's eyes practically
bugged out of his head at the sight of
Draco, and Hermione badly wanted to
laugh.
"Thank you for coming," Andromeda
shook Shacklebolt's hand politely,
settling down at the table herself. "Now
I believe I owe you an explanation
regarding Draco and his friends."
"As well as Ms Granger's unexpected
arrival," Shacklebolt returned. "After
all, we believed that she was killed a
long time ago."
"Yes, of course, that too," Andromeda
hurriedly said, casting a warning glance
at Draco when he made a low, furious
sound, his jaw clenched in blatant
aggravation. "Hermione, could you
please show Neville and Luna to the
living room? And take Draco with you."
Hermione barely restrained the smile
that slipped onto her face as she headed
into the living room, reaching for Draco
and pulling him firmly away. He
followed reluctantly, after casting one
last heated glare at Shacklebolt.
Once in the living room, Hermione
waited until Neville and Luna had
settled down on the loveseat adjacent to
the coffee table. Then she sat down on
the longer sofa, casting an amused
glance at Draco, who still hovered a
good distance away.
"Draco, come over here," Hermione
patted the empty space next to her.
"Neville's a good sort, you don't have to
be afraid of him."
Draco looked so offended that she
almost wanted to laugh. "Granger,
clearly you do not know me well at all if
you think I'm afraid of Longbottom."
Neville's eyes widened, but he put on a
brave front. "Yeah, well, you're not that
intimidating yourself, Malfoy."
"I beg to differ," Draco drawled, but
came to sit next to Hermione all the
same. He leaned back, draping an arm
over the back of the sofa and staring at
Neville in lazy amusement. "So, what
brings you to these part of the woods,
Longbottom?"
"Actually, you're in our part of the
woods now," Luna returned, with a
smile. "Neville's the new leader of the
Order."
This wasn't news to them. Ever since
Draco had siphoned the information out
of one of the prisoners back at Malfoy
Manor, they all knew that Neville was
now the one in charge. He was now the
face of the Order, even if Shacklebolt
still held the reigns.
But Hermione and the Slytherins hadn't a
clue as to why Longbottom had to be the
one leading. Why not Harry? She
couldn't help but voice the question to
Neville, who flicked a wary glance at
Draco.
"It's alright," said Luna, patting Neville's
hand comfortingly. "You can trust him."
Hermione smiled at the blonde girl. It
seemed that Luna was proving herself to
be an extremely loyal ally when they
needed her the most. Her words seemed
to convince Neville, who nodded and
started to speak.
"Well, the truth is," he said, "after Harry
lost the war the previous time, there's
been word going around that he's not the
Boy who Lived. And that's the reason
why he lost."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked
sharply. Too sharply. Hermione glanced
at him in surprise, but the look on his
face was calm, save for the shrewd
silver edge in his eyes.
"You've heard of Professor Trelawney's
prophecy, right?"
When Hermione looked confused, Luna
leaned forward to explain. "There's one
with the power to vanquish You-Know-
Who, born to those who have thrice
defied him, and born as the seventh
month dies. Harry fulfils the
requirements of the prophecy. But so
does Neville."
"Ah, so the Other Boy Who Lived,"
came Draco's calm remark as Hermione
smiled.
Neville looked faintly sheepish. "When I
learnt from Harry that I could be the
other Chosen One, I thought that it was
worth a shot. Ron and I spent a long time
trying to locate the rest of the Order. It
wasn't an easy task, but - well, here we
are."
Neville proceeded to tell her about what
they did in the Order, which wasn't much
different from the things Luna had told
her sometime ago. Their conversations
skirted carefully around certain topics,
like Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley or
even the fact that Hermione and Draco
were sitting in such close proximity. It
was clear that Luna had laid down some
pretty strict ground-rules before she
allowed Neville to visit. And Hermione
was grateful for that. She couldn't
imagine what she'd do if Neville
personally asked her to join the Order.
They left sometime later in the afternoon
with Kingsley Shacklebolt. And then
Hermione finally had that much needed
silence with Draco. She thought of
pulling him back upstairs and letting him
rest; but he seemed more than content to
sit with her, his head tipped back against
the back of the sofa and his eyes shut,
long lashes fanning out against his
aristocratic cheekbones.
"Granger," he mumbled in amusement,
lips quirking up briefly but his eyes
were still shut as he spoke. "You're
staring."
Hermione rolled her eyes but sidled next
to him all the same. His arm
automatically fell to her waist, pulling
her tightly against him, his fingers
threading loosely through the ends of her
curly brown locks. "It's quiet now," she
whispered to Draco. The past hours had
been nothing but bloody and chaotic, and
this respite was a wonderful breather at
a time like this.
Draco let out a hum of agreement,
pressing his warm lips briefly to her
forehead. "Finally."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Theo did a double take when he stepped

into the dining room that night and saw
Teddy seated in his high chair. "Okay,"
he said, striding into the room and
making sure to keep a wary distance
from Teddy. He glared round at the
others, who were all having dinner, and
took his place next to Draco. "Whose
baby is this? Pansy's or Red's?"
Pansy choked violently and Blaise had
to pat her back to make sure she was
okay. Opposite them, Hermione flushed
a vibrant red.
"It's Teddy, you git," Draco replied, the
only calm one in the room apart from
Andromeda, who was smiling silently to
herself as she stirred the pot of stew on
the stove as she listened in on their
conversation. But then her smile faded
as Draco continued, "Nymphadora's
kid."
"And Nympha-that's-a-bloody-long-
name is...?"
"'Dromeda's kid. My cousin."
"I never knew you had a cousin."
"I don't anymore," Draco returned flatly.
"Bellatrix killed her."
An awkward, painful silence descended
upon the room and for awhile, there was
nothing but the sound of spoons scraping
against plates. After Hermione nudged
Draco twice, he paused, looked over at
his Aunt and sighed. "'Dromeda, I didn't
mean to - "
"It's alright, Draco."
It wasn't alright. Draco felt like a
massive prick for reminding Andromeda
about the past, even though it had been
completely unintentional. It was, after
all, the best way he knew how to deal
with death - to treat it matter-of-factly,
discussing it the way he would if he
talked about the weather. But
Andromeda, he knew, wasn't
emotionally detached like him.
"If it helps," quipped Theo, through a
mouthful of food, "I'll help to kill
Bellatrix for you, Andromeda. When,
you know, the final battle comes and
all."
And when Andromeda turned, her eyes
teary but lips curving in an amused
smile, Draco finally felt a rush of relief
surge through him. "That's not necessary,
Theo," she said, "but thank you."
"Oh, no, I insist. She sent my Dad on a
suicide mission in the past. My Dad's
dead because of her."
"And Red's scar was also because of
her," Pansy added, from across the table,
in righteous indignation. Blaise made a
noise of agreement.
"Oh, right," Theo nodded, meeting
Hermione's gaze squarely, his eyes
holding a fair amount of silent sympathy.
"Definitely killing Bellatrix."
Draco smirked, even though he felt his
stomach churn at the thought of killing
Bellatrix. It had been and always would
be one of the top things on his to-do list.
"Well, get in line."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione awoke that night with a silent

scream lodged in her throat. She had one
of her frequent nightmares again and
somehow, without Draco, they seemed
more haunting than ever.
Trembling slightly, she drew back the
covers and made her way silently out of
the room. Her wand, along with the
Cloak of Invisibility, was still in
Shacklebolt's possession, so she had to
feel her way up the stairs. When she
reached Draco's door on the third floor,
she knocked quietly, feeling a sudden
chill as the wind nipped at her bare feet.
It didn't take more than five seconds for
the door to open. And then Draco stood
by the doorway, his silver eyes staring at
her with clear concern. "Nightmares
again?"
She nodded, wrapping her arms around
herself as she sniffled. "Bellatrix this
time."
She didn't have to say another word. He
was reaching out to pull her into his
arms before she knew it, shutting the
door gently behind her and waving his
hand to cast wandless Silencing charms
on the room.
Draco led her to his bed, pulling aside
the covers and waiting until she was
comfortable before lying on his side
beside her, looping an arm loosely
around her waist. "Better?"
She shifted to press her lips to his chest,
feeling his steady heartbeat against her
skin. "Goodnight, Draco."
30 | draconifors

30
dr aconi for s

Transforms objects into dragons.

Hermione entered the kitchen the next

morning to find Blaise, Pansy and Theo
sitting at the table having breakfast. They
all seemed far more alert and livelier
that morning after a much-needed rest,
and Hermione paused to stare in
amusement at Theo, who was glaring at
the ceiling light.
"Nox," Theo kept saying, over and over
again, "Nox. Nox, damn it, Nox!"
Hermione looked over at Pansy
questioningly, who rolled her eyes and
shook her head, shovelling a spoonful of
cereal into her mouth.
"Ignore him," said Blaise, pushing a
fresh bowl of cereal across the table to
Hermione. "He's just trying to perform
wandless magic. We're all a little lost
without our wands, but Theo's taking it
the hardest."
Hermione stifled a smile and stepped
towards the kitchen wall, tapping the
switch swiftly.
Theo paused as the light flickered off, a
pleased expression crossing his face.
"Oh, hey, look! I did it!" But then he
swivelled round, noticing Hermione
standing by the switch, and the smile on
his face fell abruptly. "Red! You ruined
it!"
Hermione let out a chuckle and slipped
into the chair opposite Pansy, picking up
her spoon to take a generous mouthful of
cereal. "I don't think I ruined anything,
Theo. Andromeda says that this used to
be a Muggle house, and most of the
switches here have to be manually
activated."
Realisation dawned on him and he
turned around to scowl at Pansy and
Blaise, who were grinning up at him
with matching, mischievous expressions
on their faces. "And you two knew about
this and didn't tell me?"
"It took you - " Pansy flicked a glance at
the clock on the kitchen wall, " - twenty-
three minutes to figure that out.
Congratulations, dumbass."
"I'll hex you, Parkinson, I swear - "
"Please," she rolled her eyes again.
"Only Draco's capable of that level of
wandless magic."
"Speaking of Draco," Hermione couldn't
help but chime in curiously, "where is
he?"
Blaise jerked his head in the direction of
the front porch. "Over there, with
Andromeda and Teddy."
Hermione craned her neck and caught a
glimpse of Draco through the open
window. He was sitting on the steps,
with Teddy on his lap and Andromeda
next to him. They appeared to be in deep
conversation and Hermione wondered if
it had anything to do with what Draco
had done to save her in the prison cell.
Moments later, her suspicions were
confirmed by Blaise. "He's probably
feeling guilty about killing off his
Uncle," Blaise said, nodding when
Hermione glanced over at him. "You
know - Rodolphus. Even though Draco's
always hated the Lestranges, and he'd do
practically anything to save you, Red - I
think there's just this little bit of guilt that
comes whenever you kill someone, more
so when it's someone you actually
know."
"He shouldn't," Theo insisted, hitching
himself up on the dining table as he ate,
instead of sitting properly like the
others. "Rodolphus was an arse and he
was trying to off Red. If Draco hadn't
stepped in in time, then - "
Theo subsided as Pansy kicked him
under the table. As Death-Eaters, they
were trained to toss around words like
'death' or 'avada kedavra' every so often,
until it didn't make much of a difference
to them. But Hermione, who had
narrowly escaped death countless of
times for over three years, didn't deserve
to have that prospect flung into her face
at all.
" - then I would have been dead,"
Hermione surprised them all by finishing
Theo's sentence. She turned to them and
smiled, a glimmer of soft understanding
in her eyes as she recalled the old
conversations she used to have with
Draco back at the apartment. "Good
people do bad things for the right
reasons. Everything's blurred in a war,
right?"
"Right," Pansy returned with a smile of
her own. Blaise and Theo didn't say a
word, but the light of understanding in
their eyes told Hermione that they fully
agreed with her.
They ate quietly for awhile until
Hermione's curiosity got the better of her
and she simply had to break the silence
again. "Can Draco really turn into a
snake?" She blurted at last, remembering
the events from the previous day and her
sheer astonishment when a black snake
had slithered out from his cell.
"Wait - " Blaise now looked equally as
surprised as she was. "Draco can turn
into a snake?"
"Weren't you there yesterday?"
"Well, yes," Pansy interjected, looking
equally as confused. "We kept hearing
people yell 'there's a snake! There's a
snake!' but we didn't expect the snake to
be Draco. Although," and she grinned
now, shrugging lightly, "it kind of makes
sense that he'd turn into a snake. He's
slippery and stealthy as anything."
"So he is really an Animagus?"
Hermione asked, glancing round the
table for confirmation.
Only Theo nodded. He didn't look
surprised at all, just smirking with a
general air of amusement. "Yeah. He's
been one for almost three years now.
Back when I was practicing duelling,
Draco got me to help him. Took a bloody
long time too."
"Wait, Theo, so you knew?" Blaise
asked, glaring at him somewhat
accusatorially.
"Obviously."
"And you didn't tell us?"
"Why should I? It's not my
accomplishment."
Hermione laughed at that. Theo was so
freshly candid that she couldn't help but
feel amused by whatever he said. "But
why a snake?" She pressed, feeling
thoroughly curious about the subject.
"Because the animal form takes on the
traits of the person," Blaise explained.
"So do Patronuses, for that matter. If
Draco could cast a Patronus, it'd
probably be in the form of a snake too."
"But Draco can't cast a Patronus," added
Pansy. "Most Death-Eaters can't. Blaise
is one of the rare exceptions. I can just
barely manage a non-corporeal one."
Theo sighed dramatically. "See, the
problem with Patronuses is that it's
always in the shape of an animal. Like,
why can't it be something cooler - like a
hand with a middle finger pointing up,
maybe? I'd have a blast waving around a
middle-finger Patronus at the bloody
Dementors," he finished, grinning widely
when Hermione burst out laughing.
Blaise shook his head in mirth, trying but
failing to keep a straight face. "You
know what Draco's Animagus should've
been?" He said at last, with an impish
grin of his own. "It shouldn't have been a
snake, it should've been - "
"A fucking ferret, yeah, I know." A
familiar voice sliced its way into their
conversation and Draco strode in,
rolling his eyes at the lot of them. He
pulled out a chair next to Hermione and
sat down, glaring heatedly at Blaise. "It's
been six fucking years, would you just
let that go?"
Pansy chuckled. "I remember that! It was
classic. A stroke of genius."
"Best transfiguration ever," Theo
declared, smirking wider when Draco
turned his glare on him. "Remember the
way Moody - wait, no, it was Barty
Crouch as Moody - yeah, anyway, he
was using his wand to - "
" - bounce Draco-the-Ferret around the
room!" Blaise finished, with a laugh,
ignoring the aggravated growl from
Draco.
"I remember this!" Hermione chimed in,
doubled up in laughter as she stared at
Draco's annoyed face. "And Ron was
calling him 'the Amazing Bouncing
Ferret' - "
The laughter faded abruptly as
Hermione's eyes widened. And
suddenly, everyone at the table was
looking at her with equally shocked
expressions on their faces. Draco, in
particular, stared at her in stunned
silence, but there was something else in
his eyes that made her heart clench, a
shade of uncertainty that she'd never
seen from him before.
"I - " her voice felt strangled as she
stared wildly at the others. "What did I
say?"
The silence that greeted her was
deafening.
"What did I say?" Hermione repeated
vehemently, sounding shrill and almost
hysterical now, "What did I say?"
"The Amazing Bouncing Ferret," Theo
was the only one who dared to answer.
But he looked equally as shaken up as
the rest of them were. Nevertheless, he
levelled a calm gaze at her, looking her
directly in the eye. "You just
remembered something the Weasel said."
Hermione dragged in a harsh breath and
stood up, her chair scrapping jarringly
against the wooden floor. "I, um," she
searched for the right words to say but
her mind was gapingly blank, and the
emotions in Draco's eyes were far too
painful to meet. "I have to - "
She trailed off. The truth was - she didn't
know. She didn't know what she had to
do.
Pushing herself away from the table, she
hastily hurried out of the room. She
brushed past Draco on the way and felt
her breath catch as her skin glossed his
briefly. She wanted nothing more than to
curl up in his arms, but he was staring at
her like she was a complete stranger.
The mere thought itself was physically
excruciating, like someone had kicked
her in the gut and sucked all the oxygen
out of her, leaving nothing but vacuum
behind.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"That's a nice picture."

Hermione glanced up when Andromeda
settled down next to her on the front
porch. She smiled, glancing down at the
picture on her lap. It was the moving-
photograph that Blaise had taken of the
six of them that last day back in the flat.
Hermione traced her finger briefly over
photograph, a smile flitting across her
lips briefly as she saw herself wrapping
a scarf loosely around Draco's neck
before the two of them turned to face the
camera. Back then, it seemed like time
had come to a complete standstill. The
camera had captured that perfectly.
"Isn't it?" She said, almost
absentmindedly.
"Yes," nostalgia laced Andromeda's
voice. "I especially like the way Draco's
looking at you. Ted used to look at me
the same way."
"Ted?"
"My husband. He died in the war."
"I'm sorry, 'Dromeda."
"Don't be," Andromeda smiled faintly,
resting her elbows on her knees as she
gazed into the distance. "If there's one
thing I've learnt in this war, it's that life's
too short and frightening to gloss past the
things that matter most to you - including
past memories."
Hermione cast a surprised glance at
Andromeda, who looked rather
sheepish.
"Draco told me," the older witch
explained, her voice carrying a measure
of apology. "He's just worried,
Hermione. You have to understand that
Draco's terrified of losing you once you
regain your memories."
Hermione blinked, a sudden sadness
seizing her heart, not for herself but for
Draco. "Is that what he thinks? That I'd
start hating him if I remember
everything?" She asked in disbelief. This
was ridiculous. She could never hate
Draco, not after what he'd done for her.
But when Andromeda seemed to
hesitate, a slow realisation dawned on
Hermione and she shook her head,
finally understanding what she'd seen in
Draco's eyes earlier. While the four
Slytherins had always skirted round the
issue of Harry Potter and Ronald
Weasley, Luna had been frank about it.
Over the weeks, Hermione had learnt
that she once was in love with Ron - or,
at least, everyone assumed they were in
love.
"Draco's worried that I'd remember how
much I used to like Ron, and that I'll go
back to him," Hermione mused, shaking
her head slowly, a sad smile curving her
face.
"And will you?" Andromeda asked
gently, reaching down to touch
Hermione's arm.
The answer was quick and simple,
slipping past her lips as easily as
breathing. "No. It's never crossed my
mind."
Andromeda seemed pleased with the
answer, and she smiled down at the girl.
"I hope this doesn't sound too forward,
Hermione, but exactly how do you feel
about Draco?"
Hermione set the photo frame aside,
hugging her knees to her chest. "I can't
tell you how much I've thought about
that, 'Dromeda. In the early months, I've
thought that, maybe, it was just a kind of
desperate dependence. You know?
Latching onto him because I've simply
no one else?"
Andromeda nodded in quiet
understanding. "And now?"
"Now?" Hermione let a tiny smile flit
across her face. "Now, I remember all
the bad things he did. I know all the bad
things he does. I think of all the bad
things he will do. And in spite of it all -
I still want to be with him. I still want
him in my life." She looked up at
Andromeda, an almost curious
expression on her face. "That's a kind of
love, right?"
"Yes, it is." Andromeda seemed almost
teary-eyed as she drew her arms around
Hermione, embracing her in a brief hug
before letting her go. "But you'll have to
be patient with Draco - I'm afraid he has
far too many monsters in his head to
battle."
Hermione wasn't surprised to hear that,
because she'd long ago suspected this.
"The phials?" She hazarded a guess, and
Andromeda nodded.
"Just be patient with him," Andromeda
repeated, with a comforting smile. "Just
as he's patient with you."
Hermione's mood immediately dipped at
that as she thought about her past and
what had happened earlier at breakfast
that morning. She hugged the photo frame
to her chest and exhaled, trying to clear
her head of the tumultuous thoughts that
threatened to engulf her whole.
"'Dromeda," she began, slowly, "do you
know what scares me most?"
"What?"
"The fact that I'm remembering,"
Hermione felt a shudder wrack through
her body as she murmured that word.
"It's not a bad thing, but it charges up so
many - negative emotions in me,
'Dromeda. Each time I remember
something about someone important from
the past - like Luna, or even Ron and
Harry - it just...it makes me sad. And
mad. Draco tells me that I used to be
close to them, that they were my best
friends. And I keep thinking that - if they
were my friends and if I meant at least
something to them...then why didn't they
find me?"
"I don't know, Hermione," Andromeda
admitted. "I really don't know."
Hermione bit her lip, swallowing the
sob that threatened to escape her throat.
"Why didn't they look for me? Draco did
- and Draco and I hated each other for
years. You did, 'Dromeda, and you didn't
even know me well enough. Or did they
just give up, because they thought I had
died?"
Her voice broke off at the end, and she
hastily swiped the back of her hand over
her eyes. Merlin, this was ridiculous and
she knew that she couldn't blame her
friends, but the more she thought about it,
the more she remembered and the sadder
she became.
"I'm sorry," Andromeda said softly,
reaching down to grasp Hermione's
hands, "I'm really sorry things turned out
this way."
Hermione wanted to assure her, to tell
her that it wasn't her fault at all. But
somehow, the words lodged in her throat
and she was just tired and sad all at
once. A sudden click of the front door
behind them made the both of them turn
around quickly.
It was Draco, and he looked like a deer
caught in headlights for a moment as he
stared in surprise at the two of them.
Then his gaze turned to Hermione and
his eyes sharpened. "What's wrong,
Granger?"
Andromeda took that as her cue to leave.
She patted Hermione on the shoulder
before getting to her feet; brushing past
Draco and shooting him a pointed look
on the way. Then the door swung shut
behind her and it was just the two of
them.
Draco took a few hesitant steps towards
Hermione before settling down next to
her. His eyes instantly flickered over to
the photograph on her lap for a brief
moment, and then he shook his head.
"Blaise can't work the bloody camera to
save his life," he mused dryly,
"everything's blurred."
In spite of her tears, Hermione found
herself smiling as she remembered that
day perfectly. Even though the picture
was blurred, that was a day she was
certain she'd never forget. Sniffling, she
sidled closer to him. She felt his arm
wrap around her, pulling her tightly to
his side, and she rest her head against
his shoulder as realisation quickly
dawned on her. Everything was blurred.
The past, their moral compasses, even
the picture. Draco, however, was that
one person in her life who made perfect
sense.
"Everything's blurred," she agreed softly,
feeling his grip tighten around her almost
instinctively. "But some things are
crystal clear."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The next full moon came.

And this time, there was no hiding
Pansy's condition.
Hermione heard the screams sometime
close to midnight, felt Draco stumble out
of bed and wave her away. He had just
lifted his hand to cast silencing charms
on their room when Hermione shoved
the covers aside and went to him.
"I want to help," she said simply. His
features seemed to soften as he took in
her pleading look and, after a short nod,
he took her hand and pulled her down
the stairs with him.
Hermione's eyes widened when they
reached the living room and saw nothing
but chaos. Pansy was screaming as
Blaise pinned her down. Andromeda
was seated in the kitchen, trying to calm
Teddy as he was obviously terrified by
the loud yells and screams in the living
room, with Grus the house-elf hovering
near the toddler worriedly.
"Get the Wolfsbane potion," Draco
directed Hermione softly, before heading
straight towards Pansy.
Hermione didn't hesitate. She rushed to
the trunk of potions that Blaise and
Pansy had given her for Christmas. After
finding a small phial with that precise
label, she hurried back. Theo rushed
down just in time and helped to pry open
Pansy's mouth as Hermione poured
every drop of the potion in.
When Pansy stopped struggling,
Hermione felt a surge of relief and sat
back. "Will she be fine?"
"Soon," came Blaise's brusque reply.
There was a glimpse of pain in his eyes
that made Hermione's chest pull when
she saw him.
Draco got up and strode towards the
door, yanking it open roughly. "Take her
outside."
Blaise's eyes widened. "It's not safe. She
needs to be in an open area; the front
yard isn't enough. If the potion doesn't
take effect in time, she'll tear this place
apart."
"Where else are we going to leave her?
We can't leave the bloody premises - "
"Hold on, Draco," Andromeda said
calmly, stepping into the living room
with Teddy on her hip. She paused along
the way, turning to Theo and holding out
Teddy to him. "Would you put Teddy to
bed?"
Theo's mouth fell open in horror. And if
the tension in the room weren't so
palpable, Hermione would've burst out
laughing. "What?"
"Please."
"Fine," Theo grumbled, taking Teddy
from her begrudgingly and holding the
toddler at arm's length. "Come on, you
salivating git - "
"Language, Theo!"
Hermione stifled a laugh as Theo huffed
and headed up the stairs with Teddy in
tow. Andromeda summoned her wand
and held it out to Draco. "Here, take
this."
"'Dromeda - "
"Grus will take down the charms, won't
he, Grus?" Andromeda turned to her
house-elf, who nodded eagerly.
Hermione's eyes widened as the house-
elf ambled outside, casting silent magic
over the premises that presumably took
down the shields that Shacklebolt had
put into place. Andromeda noticed the
girl's surprise and smiled. "House-elves
can perform magic that far surpasses our
own. Did you really think I'd agree to
Shacklebolt's terms of a lockdown
without finding a loophole myself?"
Draco smirked from across the room. "I
see you haven't lost touch with your
Slytherin side, 'Dromeda."
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
now, does it?" Andromeda shot back,
staring at him pointedly. His smirk
widened, and he held out a hand, silently
summoning her wand over and deftly
catching it. "Just go over to that hill,"
Andromeda continued, "and be sure to
stay hidden, just in case."
He nodded but Hermione stepped
forward before he could turn to leave.
"Can I come?"
Andromeda and Blaise exchanged
glances, both of them looking rather
unsure. "Red - " Blaise began, rather
reluctantly. "I don't think it's such a good
idea - "
"Please. She's my friend too," Hermione
added, looking directly at Draco.
He didn't seem as worried as the other
two, and simply grabbed her coat off the
rack, the same one that Theo had
magically tinted a shade of green. "Come
on."
Hermione's eyes lit up and she rushed
forward, murmuring a hasty goodbye to
Blaise, Andromeda and Grus along the
way. Draco was already levitating
Pansy's still form out of the house and
she hurried to catch up with him, feeling
rather out of breath as they quickly
trekked up the hill.
"We've got to hurry, Granger," Draco
said, reaching out to grab her hand as
she began to slip behind. "She's a
fucking time-ticking bomb here."
Hermione held his hand tightly and kept
close to him as the three of them scaled
the uneven terrain. They were only
halfway up the hill when Pansy began to
convulse. Draco immediately pulled
Hermione to a stop.
"Don't move," he told her, still grasping
her hand and assuming an almost
defensive stance in front of her. "Just
watch."
And so Hermione held her breath and
watched.
The transformation was nothing like
anything she'd ever seen before. It was
horrifying and captivating all at once,
and Hermione shivered as she heard
bones cracking and snarling noises.
Pansy's form curved and lengthened and
distorted like a puppet tampered by
invisible strings, until she was a mass of
dark fur howling at the moon.
"Merlin," Hermione breathed, blinking
hard and staring at her friend in
disbelief. She'd suspected it all this
while, of course, knew that it was a
touchy subject that none of the others
wanted to bring up. But to see it
happening right in front of her - this was
something else altogether.
Draco didn't seem to let his guard down
even after Pansy had transformed.
Keeping Andromeda's wand poised in
hand, he stood protectively in front of
Hermione, his posture tense and rigid.
"Pansy?" He said, in a guarded voice,
and Hermione realised that this was the
first time he'd directly addressed her by
name. "Can you hear me?"
The werewolf instantly turned in their
direction and Hermione felt her breath
catch as its eyes seemed to latch onto
her. Its shoulders were heaving, almost
trembling, but after a second or two, the
wolf sank to the ground, tucking its front
paws under its chin.
Draco relaxed and settled down onto the
grass next to Hermione. "She's safe now,
Granger."
Hermione quickly sidled up to Draco,
who instinctively wrapped his arm
round her, pulling her close. She looked
at the wolf, marvelling the way the
moonlight seemed to reflect off its sleek
fur. "Is she ever...dangerous?"
"Sometimes," Draco admitted quietly.
"When the potion doesn't take effect in
time, or when she accidentally misses a
dose during the week before her
transformation."
"What happens then?"
"She becomes - deadly. She'll start
attacking anyone and anything she sees,
especially during the first watch. That's
why I take it - because I'm quick enough
to prevent her from hurting anyone,
including herself. Blaise is too fucking
soft, he'd much rather she bite him than
hex her to keep her at bay; while Theo's
attacks are sometimes too potent and
might injure her by accident."
Hermione was silent. She thought about
how Pansy's affliction had, possibly,
brought the four Slytherins closer. "How
did she - " Hermione faltered,
wondering if it was an appropriate
question to ask and finding it difficult to
phrase into words. "When did she - "
" - become a werewolf?"
She nodded, noticing the way his eyes
dimmed as a look of self-reproach
crossed his face fleetingly.
"Fenrir Greyback," Draco said, spitting
out the syllables like they were a sour
taste in his mouth. "He bit her within a
month of her initiation into the Dark
Lord's inner circle. I didn't even find out
until three months later. And by then," he
paused, swallowing roughly before
continuing, "it was too late."
Hermione slipped her hand through his,
brushing her thumb in concentric circles
against his skin. "It wasn't your fault,
Draco."
"Actually, it was. I knew that she always
wanted the Dark Mark ever since she
saw it on me during our sixth year. If I
hadn't boasted about it or lied about how
fucking great it was, I don't think she
would've ever offered to receive the
Mark. Then she wouldn't have been sent
on a bloody mission with Greyback and
she wouldn't have gotten bitten."
But if Draco thought that he had done
wrong by Pansy, Pansy herself seemed to
think the exact opposite. Hermione had
found the girl sleeping in the living room
the next morning, presumably having
been brought back by Theo, who had
taken the last shift after Blaise.
After making the usual pot of tea,
Hermione prepared a cup for Pansy and
set it down on the coffee table, before
going to the cupboard to get a blanket.
She had just draped it over Pansy when
Pansy shifted, her hand latching out to
grip Hermione by the wrist.
"What Draco said," Pansy said, staring
up at Hermione with tired but honest
eyes. "That's only one-half of the story.
He didn't tell you the part about me
owing him my life."
Hermione gazed at her in surprise and
sat down on the edge of the coffee table.
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't you ever wondered why the
three of us seem to like Draco so much?
Even though he can be such a massive
dick?"
"I've wondered," Hermione acceded, her
lips twisting up in a light-hearted grin.
"The thing is - " Pansy began quietly,
pulling herself up slowly into a sitting
position. She huddled up, tucking her
knees to her chest, the blanket draped
over her tired frame. "Becoming a
werewolf tore me apart. And not just
physically - emotionally, too. For months
after, I was just a shell of myself. I
couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I just
wanted to die. And I lost so much of
myself that one day, I found myself just -
wanting to give up. For good."
Hermione automatically found herself
reaching forward to grasp Pansy's hands
tightly. She'd seen her friend in a lot of
moods before, but devastated and
suicidal was not one of them. It both
scared and saddened her.
"Draco was the one who found me that
day," Pansy continued softly. "He told
me that he knew about my condition after
having used Legilimency on me several
weeks ago, and had been trailing me
ever since. And he told me that - that
there were other ways to treat it. With a
potion. Or with a phial. He made this for
me."
She drew out the thin gold cord that hung
round her neck, where a familiar-looking
phial hung at the bottom. The phial was
laced with green studs and Hermione
realised that Pansy had possibly
magically personalised it to distinguish
her phial from the others.
"Draco extracted my best memories and
kept them in this phial," Pansy
explained, with a tiny smile playing on
her lips. "He said that I could view them
whenever I needed to remind myself that
there were things that made my life
worthwhile, and people worthy enough
to live for."
Hermione gave Pansy a hug right after
that, and she stayed awhile longer to chat
with the girl. But later, she headed back
upstairs and curled beside Draco on the
bed, smiling to herself when he
instinctively wrapped his arms around
her, burying his face in his hair and
mumbling incoherent words in his sleep.
She felt his chest warm against her back,
his long legs tangled up with hers
beneath the sheets, his steady breath
against her neck.
And she realised, at that moment, that
she had been right all along. She was in
love with Draco Malfoy.
No second-guessing there.
31 | protego

31
pr otego
Blocks spells.

Andromeda's house soon became a safe

haven for the five. With the place kept on
permanent lockdown, charmed with
magic that prevented them from leaving,
the five had no choice but to remain
within the premises. Only Andromeda
had a wand in her possession, and she
was the only one who could leave; but
even then, it wasn't often.
Some members from the Order visited
everyday to make sure that none of them
had escaped - they caught occasional
glimpses of Mundungus Fletcher or
Kingsley Shacklebolt paying a visit to
Andromeda, but they all made it a point
to steer clear out of the Order's way. The
Order seemed to have made themselves
explicitly clear: Stay out of our way, and
we'll stay out of yours.
It didn't seem to matter to Hermione or
Theo or even Draco himself. He was
still on the fence with this whole
defecting business - it was clear that the
Order was never going to accept them,
so why bother fucking trying?
He knew that Pansy and Blaise, on the
other hand, were getting rather restless.
Blaise read and reread his books
voraciously, while Pansy was adamant
on brushing up her skills at wandless
magic. They wanted to help, and were
clearly frustrated by the turn of events.
But Draco wasn't going to start sniffing
around for trouble when trouble didn't
come knocking. He'd spent three bloody
years charging into the foray.
Andromeda's place was a pleasant
change. He liked that, in this house, they
could easily forget about the war or the
stupid Order.
But, like everything else, this wasn't to
last.
Several days later, he was sitting on the
front porch as Pansy practiced wandless
magic on him. She was still learning
how to hex without a wand, but it was
proving to be an uphill task so far.
"Stop smirking," Pansy said, glaring at
him when she tried hexing again and
failed miserably. "And could you at least
put up a Protego in case I hurt you?"
Draco waved her away dismissively.
"Granger will fix me up if you do."
Pansy sighed, before lifting her head to
glance up at the sky above. "It's going to
rain."
He rolled his eyes before focusing his
attention on her. "Rictusempra."
Pansy immediately dropped to the
ground in a fit of uncontrollable laughter,
and he couldn't quite stop himself from
smirking in satisfaction. "You arse!" She
yelled, in between helpless fit of
giggles. "You know that I'm ticklish as
anything!"
"Then don't lose your concentration," he
returned evenly, before lifting the spell
off her. She huffed, climbing slowly to
her feet and saying something snarky. But
his focus was diverted as he randomly
glanced up at the sky, just as she'd done
just moments ago.
" - and I swear," Pansy rambled on, not
realising that Draco was no longer
paying her any attention, "someday,
when you're not looking, I'll hex your
bloody balls off - "
"Shut up for a bit," Draco cut her off
unceremoniously, still gazing up at the
sky. Something felt amiss, and he could
easily hazard a guess that it had
something to do with the Dark Lord. But
what? His Dark Mark wasn't tingling -
none of theirs had for days now - and
there wasn't a soul in sight apart from the
two of them.
Seeming to sense the sudden shift in
mood, Pansy took a step forward
towards Draco. "What's wrong?"
He waved her over, casting a silent
Disillusionment charm over the two of
them. Pansy felt a sudden force pressing
against one side of her body, and knew
that Draco had cast a protective shield
over them.
"Look up," came his terse voice. She
couldn't see where he was, but knew that
he was right next to her. "See those dark
clouds? You were right, it's going to
rain. But those clouds aren't normal.
They're too clustered, too concentrated.
Someone's messing with the weather."
"Just clear it up with weather spell - "
"Not the point, Parkinson. I think it's a
cover. The Dark Lord used to have me
charm the weather whenever we travel
in big groups."
Pansy felt her heart sink in dread. "So
you think - "
"I don't think this house is what they're
targeting. 'Dromeda did say that
Shacklebolt had this house charmed tight
to prevent even the Order themselves
from noticing our presence. I think
they're launching an attack on the Order."
Draco jerked his head quickly in the
direction of the house. "Get back inside.
Now."
He didn't have to tell her twice. She ran
back inside, leaving Draco on the front
porch. The sound of the door slamming
shut after her made Blaise look up from
his position on the sofa next to
Hermione, where he was explaining
Patronus charms to the brunette witch.
"What's wrong?"
"Death-Eaters," her voice was raspy and
stricken with fear, "they're going to
attack the Order."
Blaise's eyes rounded. "What?"
Draco entered the living room, the
expression on his face tight. He seemed
to scan the room for Hermione, an
almost instinctive reaction, and relaxed
when he found her. "They're headed this
way," he said flatly, going over to settle
down on the sofa beside Hermione.
"Where's Andromeda?"
"She went out with McGonagall to
Diagon Alley this morning, remember?"
Hermione replied, sounding rather
worried, "she hasn't returned yet."
"Fuck. Parkinson, try contacting the
Order using the telephone."
Pansy quickly ran off to the sitting room
just as Theo ambled down the stairs, his
hair dishevelled and eyes droopy from
his nap. He took one glance at the
serious faces in the room and tensed.
"What's wrong?"
Blaise swiftly filled him in on the
situation. "I think we should protect the
Order," he added, after he'd finished
conveying the basic details. Theo's
mouth fell open and Blaise hastened to
continue, "I mean - if the Death-Eaters
take over the headquarters, then that's it
for them."
"Are you fucking serious?" Theo yelped,
running an aggravated hand through his
hair. "The Order tried to incarcerate us,
and I'm still furious as hell about the
lack of a fucking loo! They didn't even
give us a chance to explain, hell, they
didn't even welcome Hermione when
she returned! And you want us to
become their fucking guardians or
something?"
Pansy came rushing back, sounding
rather breathless and upset all at the
same time. "There's no one answering."
"Maybe they're all out," Theo suggested
rather lamely, even though he knew it
was more likely that no one had heard
the call. He just really didn't fancy
parading back into the Order's
headquarters, or helping the group that
had kept him in a bloody cell in the first
place.
There was a lost silence for a moment,
until Hermione stood up abruptly, an
unusual gleam in her eye. "I know how
to find out," she said, a faint smile on her
face as she turned towards the kitchen.
"Grus! Would you come out here,
please?"
"A house-elf?" Theo sounded almost
appalled, as Grus came out almost shyly.
"What's a house-elf going to fucking do -
"
"Hey!" Hermione pointed threateningly
at Theo, a very familiar, distinct scowl
on her face that all the Slytherins had
frequently seen her wear back during her
Hogwarts days. "None of that pure-
blood superiority in my presence!" She
tilted her finger to point it at Draco.
"You too."
Draco's glared at her in aggravation,
even though his lips reluctantly twitched
as he caught the teasing glint in her eyes.
"I didn't even fucking say anything!"
She grinned before turning back to Grus,
bending so that her face would be
levelled with his. "Grus, you can
apparate anywhere, right?"
"Yes, miss," Grus squeaked, gazing up at
Hermione with wide eyes. Hermione
had quickly learnt that Andromeda's
house-elf was rather intimidated by the
four Slytherins in particular and had kept
clear out of their way. But he seemed to
have warmed up to Hermione and she
thought he was absolutely wonderful.
Hermione smiled. "I need you to cast a
Disillusionment charm on yourself and
apparate into the Order's headquarters.
You know that none of us can leave this
place because of the anti-apparition
wards, but you can. Make your way
through as quickly as you can and let us
know if the place is empty."
"Of course," Grus nodded.
"Be very careful, Grus."
The house-elf smiled and nodded again
before vanishing altogether. When
Hermione turned back around, she saw
the others staring at her with matching
looks of disbelief on their faces.
"What?"
"That was - bizarre," Pansy sounded
almost amused, but the other three
looked rather sceptical.
"Red, are you sure a house-elf can be
trusted?" Blaise asked, his eyebrows
knitting together in faint worry.
"House-elves are wonderful creatures,"
Hermione stated, crossing her arms over
her chest defensively. "They're very
loyal and - " A sudden thought came to
mind, one of a house-elf that she perhaps
knew in the past but had forgotten along
the way. She shook her head, shoving the
thought firmly aside for a moment. " -
and they'll protect you if you treat them
well. At least, that's what I read in the
books," she added, flushing slightly
when they all stared at her in silence.
"Please," Theo rolled his eyes. "I had a
fucking house-elf once and he couldn't
even do anything right."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "That's
because someone in your family
probably wasn't kind to him," her gaze
travelled to Draco and she couldn't
resist. "Yours too."
"I was nothing but kind to my house-elf."
All of them turned to stare at him
incredulously, and he glared back at
them. "Fucking fine, I wasn't, but can you
blame me? The words 'kind' and
'Malfoy' never go together."
"Oh, but the words 'pain-in-the-arse' and
'Malfoy' sure as hell do," Theo muttered
under his breath, prompting Hermione to
laugh as Draco once again shot her a
peeved look. She was about to say
something teasing in return, but Grus
returned at that moment, his eyes large
and round with fear.
Hermione immediately knelt down to
face him. "What did you see, Grus?"
"Death-Eaters," Grus gasped, "trying to
break the shield. Grus didn't see anyone
above ground, but Grus did see some
underground."
"What were they doing in the basement?"
Pansy echoed curiously, taking a step
closer to the house-elf.
"Refugees," Draco cut in, with a
confident nod. "'Dromeda was telling us
the other day about how the other bases
are full, and the headquarters had to
house some of them. Grus," Draco strode
over quickly and the house-elf
immediately fell a step back,
nervousness clear on his face. Hermione
watched with bated breath as Draco
paused, holding a careful hand out to elf.
He seemed almost careful, his actions
slow and unhurried. "Can you apparate
them out?"
Grus shook his head fervently. "Can't.
Grus thinks there are too many. And
Grus also thinks that they can't leave."
"Anti-disapparition wards in the
basement?"
The house-elf nodded.
"Well, that's that, then," came Theo's
relieved voice. Everyone turned to look
at him, and he frowned. "What? It's
impossible for us to apparate out of this
house, and to apparate into the
headquarters. We've tried our best."
"Not quite," Blaise said, before looking
at the blond wizard. "Draco? What do
you think? Is there any way we can get
them out?"
Draco seemed to hesitate. "There's a
way," he acceded at last, in an almost
halting manner. "It wouldn't be easy,
though."
Pansy grinned. "Since when have things
ever been easy?"
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione felt a wave of nausea hit her

the moment Grus apparated her and Theo
into the Order's headquarters. She
lurched forward, only to be supported by
Theo, who quickly held up a phial to her
lips, forcing her to drink the potion.
Instantly, the discomfort in her stomach
eased and she heaved a sigh of relief.
"Thanks," she whispered gratefully.
He simply grinned and shook his head.
"Happens to all first-timers. Fortunately,
Draco had me prepare the potion for
you."
She smiled and grasped Theo's arm
tightly as they made their way through
the building. The place was deathly
silent, and she didn't know whether there
were enemies lurking in the corner.
Fortunately, she was assigned to stick
with Theo, who could at least cast
wandless Disillusionment charms to
keep them hidden.
Once they found the stairs leading to the
dark basement, Theo shook the flashlight
in his hand vigorously. "Lumos."
Hermione chuckled softly. They had to
use Muggle appliances because none of
them had wands. She took the flashlight
from him, flipping on the switch.
Instantly, the light flickered on,
illuminating the floor below them.
"Lumos," she repeated, with a teasing
grin.
Scowling, Theo snatched the flashlight
and headed downstairs with Hermione
in tow. They soon came to a dark
corridor with a series of closed doors.
After exchanging a quick glance with
Hermione, Theo took a step forward and
knocked on the first door.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?"
There was nothing but silence.
Theo frowned and headed to the next
door, and the next, and the next - to no
avail. But Hermione stayed at the first
one, a puzzled look on her face. Grus
had said that the basement was filled
with people, so where were they?
Tentatively, she reached down to the
door-knob, slowly twisting it in a
clockwise direction. But it caught, and
she tried a few more times, realising that
someone had locked it from the inside.
With the Death-Eaters breaking through
the Order's shields, these rooms had
probably gone on total lockdown to
protect the refugees. Without their
wands, neither she nor Theo could get in
unless the people inside allowed them
to.
She conveyed her suspicions to Theo in
hushed whispers, and when she was
done, he nodded. "Alright, I'm just going
to kick this bloody door down," was his
simple solution to the problem.
"Theo, if they have wands, they're
probably going to start hexing you the
moment you do. And you don't know
how to cast wandless shields."
"A little hexing's not going to kill me,
Red. You worry too much," he returned
cheerfully, before ramming his shoulder
right into the door.
It didn't budge an inch.
But it definitely did hurt Theo, who
muttered a colourful string of swear
words under his breath. Hermione
sighed and quickly took out a healing
potion from her satchel for him. Theo
quickly drank, before silence settled
between the two again as they thought of
another way around this.
Finally, Hermione took a deep breath
and knocked on the door. "We're from
the Order," she began, earning a half-
quizzical, half-disgusted look from
Theo. "And we're here to offer our
assistance. If you could open the door,
we'll bring you somewhere safe. We're
not going to hurt you, I promise."
Silence greeted her once again. Feeling
rather defeated, she stepped away from
the door when a voice from inside
stopped her. "Who are you?"
Hermione froze. But Theo was
completely unfazed. "I'm Harry Potter,"
he sang brightly, which made Hermione
choke as she tried to stifle her laughter.
"What's the password, Harry Potter?"
Theo's smile faded abruptly. "Um...er -
Weasel's my best friend forever?"
"Try again, Harry Potter."
Theo mimed hexing the person inside
with an imaginary wand as Hermione
sighed. This wasn't going well at all.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Pansy felt like a treasure-hunter. From

the moment Grus had apparated her into
the Order's headquarters, she'd dashed
into the closest room in search for
several things.
The first - wands. That was the most
important thing. Without their wands,
none of them would be capable of
fighting or protecting themselves, except
for Draco, but even he couldn't send out
an Avada without a wand.
The second, of course, was the Deathly
Hallow that they had in their possession
all this while - the Cloak of Invisiblity.
Pansy had wondered if Shacklebolt had
returned the Cloak back to Harry Potter,
who was, after all, the rightful owner.
But Draco had thought otherwise, since
Harry was no longer a part of the Order.
The last was any and every important
piece of information she could find
about the Order. Not to spy - well, okay,
kind of. She'd be lying if she said she
wasn't curious. But mostly to prevent any
information from landing into the hands
of the Death-Eaters.
So far, she'd been only fractionally
successful. She'd found the Cloak, which
was now was draped around her and
made her feel protected travelling from
room to room. She'd found two lists of
mission sites that the Order was
planning, and had stuffed that into her
satchel. But the wands were nowhere to
be found and Pansy was beginning to
feel more frustrated as the seconds
ticked by.
"Accio wand," she whispered, when she
reached the doorway of the next room.
She'd been repeating that as she made
her way through the last dozen rooms,
but her efforts had proven absolutely
futile thus far.
Finally, after what seemed like forever,
she came to a locked door at the end of a
long corridor. It was the only locked
one. Trusting her instincts, she placed
her ear flat against the door and rapped
twice. There wasn't a sound.
Holding out her palm flat, she took a
deep breath and whispered, "Accio
wand." The tingle of magic that greeted
her fingertips made her eyes widen. Yes,
her wand, at least, was definitely inside.
The only problem now was getting in.
She took a step back, remembering the
location of the room and heading back
downstairs. Blaise was standing by the
front door, his palms flat against the
wooden surface as he placed wandless
magic on it. Draco was several feet
away sealing the windows with
wandless protection charms, murmuring
incantations under his breath as he did.
When he saw her, her distorted head
hovering in mid-air as she tucked the
Cloak around her, his eyes narrowed.
"You're way in over your head,
Parkinson," he deadpanned.
She smirked briefly at his pun and pulled
the Cloak off, draping it over her
shoulder instead. "I need your help. The
wands are in a locked room and I can't
get in. You need to change into your
Animagus and - well, slither in."
He rolled his eyes but followed her all
the same. Several minutes later, Pansy
watched with blatant fascination as
Draco swiftly transformed into a snake,
sliding beneath the gap under the door
and heading into the room. It didn't take
long for him to locate the wands, and the
door soon unlocked with a click.
Draco strode out with several wands in
hand. "I'll give these to the other three.
Go inside and grab whatever important
information you can find," he directed,
placing her wand in her hands. "When
you're done, go to the basement and help
the other two."
Pansy nodded as he strode off, before
grinning when she realised that he had
more than three wands in the pocket of
his coat. Stealing from the Order? She
wasn't surprised. It was Draco Malfoy
after all, so what else was new?
"Lumos," she whispered, and her wand
lit up before she entered the room.
She sorted quickly through the items on
the desk, realising that there were
dozens of other wands inside. The
person this room this belonged to -
Shacklebolt, probably - had clearly been
doing a lot of confiscating. She picked
up several others and stuffed them into
her satchel - if Draco could do it, so
could she - and continued pilfering
around. Finally, she came to a large safe,
with magical locks in place. She fiddled
with it for awhile, using her wand to
pick away the multiple charms on it,
until she felt a familiar voice break her
concentration.
"I was looking for you everywhere,"
Blaise sounded rather breathless, as if
he'd been running around the entire
building. "You've got to get out of here,
the Death-Eaters are coming."
Pansy immediately slid her wand back
into her pocket. "They've found a way
in?"
"Almost, can't you hear them outside?"
Pansy strained her ears to listen and,
gradually, heard violent sounds of
explosions in the far distance, as though
the Death-Eaters were trying to blast
their way through the shields.
"Draco's trying to hold them off, and he
wants us all out of here before the shield
breaks," Blaise added.
"Okay, just help me get this," Pansy told
him, reaching down to carry the safe. It
was far too heavy for her alone, and she
shot a pleading look at Blaise. "I think
there's something really important
inside. I tried shrinking this damn thing
to put into my satchel, but it's charmed."
Blaise grinned wryly and stepped
forward to carry it, but the moment it
was in his hands, Pansy dropped her end
and headed towards the door. "Where're
you going?"
"To help Theo and Red. Draco's orders."
"What about this safe?" Blaise stared at
her, appalled, "I thought we were going
to carry it together!"
"Oh, I think you can manage wonderfully
on your own."
Blaise swore as Pansy left the room
without a backward glance. "If you don't
get your arse back here I swear I'm not
putting out tonight!" He yelled at her
departing figure, only to hear her laugh
heartily in response.
"Oh, baby, I'm sure you will," came her
confident response and Blaise
automatically scowled because she'd hit
the nail on the head.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione and Theo had been having a

far easier time once Draco had given
them their wands. After Draco had
blasted the first door open and ordered
the refugees to come out, threatening to
use the Imperius curse on them if they
didn't, getting the rest of them out had
been a piece of cake.
The wards only held in the basement and
so, once the group of people had been
ushered to the first floor, apparating
them was easy. Theo had used side-
along apparition to transport group after
group of them back to Andromeda's
place. Hermione had been waiting with
the remaining people all this time,
staying a good distance away from the
crowd because she didn't want to be
bombarded by questions from complete
strangers.
Then Pansy had come along to return the
Cloak and provide her assistance,
effectively speeding up the process.
Soon, Hermione found herself left with
only three people as she waited for
either Theo or Pansy to apparate back to
the building.
But out of nowhere, Hermoine found
herself completely deafened by a high-
pitched siren, the same one that she'd
heard when she and Blaise had broken
into the Order's prison cell. And
instantly, her heart sank as she realised
exactly what was happening.
The Death-Eaters had broken through
and they were coming in.
The three people stared at her in alarm,
and she knew her expression probably
mirrored theirs. Quickly, she rushed
forward and draped the Cloak over
them, pushing them towards a small
alcove. There was barely enough space
under the Cloak for three and she was
sure she wouldn't fit in as well.
"Don't make a sound," she whispered,
hoping that they could hear her amidst
the sound of the siren. "My friends will
be back in a few minutes."
"They can't," said the frail redhead. Her
eyes were wide as she glanced around
nervously. "The wards go back up once
there are intruders."
Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"
"It's to prevent more intruders from
apparating in. But it also means that no
one inside can get out."
Her heart began to race in terror and her
mind immediately went to Draco,
wondering if he could somehow,
telepathically, realise that she needed his
help. Then she shook her head, forcing
herself to take deep, calming breaths as
she tried to rationalise the situation. The
siren was doing her head in, and she
could hear a distant crashing sound in
one of the upper rooms.
"Okay," Hermione said to the three of
them, "you're going to have to make a run
for it. When that side door opens," she
gestured to the door several feet away,
"I'm going to create a diversion and
you're going to run. The road will split
at the cross-section, follow the one on
the right until you reach the seventh
willow tree. Someone will come out to
get you. Understood?"
The three nodded, nervous expressions
on their faces as they stared at her.
For a moment, Hermione felt a faint rush
of something like courage surge through
her veins, and she gave them an
encouraging nod. "Stay under the Cloak
at all times."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was having a tedious time. For

the past hour, he and Blaise had been
setting charm after charm on the place to
delay the Death-Eaters outside, only to
have the spells torn down equally as
quickly. But now that everyone was
safely out of the building, he knew that
there was no reason to protect the
headquarters any longer. So when a
particularly strong spell blasted the front
gates, Draco didn't bother stopping the
Death-Eaters.
The scream from the siren was now
pounding in his ears, and he was finding
a way out of the place because the wards
had gone back up. He soon found a
nearby window in one of the back rooms
on the second floor. He was about to
break out of the place and run for his life
when he heard a sudden shout nearby
above the sound of the siren.
His ears were pricked as he slowly
retraced his steps, only to pause in
astonishment when he saw Crabbe
Senior dancing uncontrollably on the
landing of the second floor, shouting
angrily as he tried to stop himself. It was
a hilarious sight, but Tarantallegra? The
only person he knew who used this low-
grade spell was Theo and -
Hermione.
In a flash, he remembered the smile on
Hermione's face that afternoon when she
told him how Theo had taught her the
dancing-feet spell. If the spell was cast
on Crabbe Senior, it could only mean
one thing -
"Draco?"
He went rigid as he heard Hermione's
voice. The siren almost drowned out her
voice, but he quickly turned, freezing
momentarily when he saw her staring up
at him from the floor below. There was a
look of immense relief on her face as she
broke into a wide smile, but he was
more terrified than anything.
Hermione Granger trapped in a place
full of Death-Eaters was one of his
greatest nightmares come to life.
"Granger, what the fuck?" He hissed,
rushing towards the stairs and gripping
the banisters until his knuckles turned
white. "Get up here now!"
Her eyes widened and she quickly
rushed towards the stairs, her wild curls
in disarray as she hurried towards him.
Draco could feel the oxygen slowly
returning to his lungs as she closed the
distance between them - thirty feet away,
twenty feet, fifteen -
And then she halted, a look of frozen
horror on her face.
"Granger, what - " But he saw it just as
the words left his mouth, a red light in
his peripheral vision, a stunning spell
honing in on him, too quick, too
powerful for him to catch.
"Protego!"
The force from an invisible shield threw
him momentarily off balance as the spell
rebounded off it. Draco recovered
quickly, reaching into his pocket for his
wand and sending a stunning spell twice
as strong back in the direction it came
from, hearing the Death-Eater collapse
into a motionless heap.
Draco then turned to Hermione and she
seemed equally as surprised as he was.
Even though the two of them had
practiced shield charms over the past
few days, she'd never actually managed
to cast one, let alone react so quickly.
Hermione blinked, slowly bringing her
wand back down to her side, still
looking rather bewildered. "I - "
Draco didn't think. He just reached for
her, latching his arms swiftly around her
waist and planting a gentle kiss on her
forehead. "Thank you," he murmured,
feeling her shiver under his lips, her
fingers instinctively coming up to grip
the fabric of his shirt tightly.
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the
corners as she looked up at him. "Oh, it
was fun."
It wasn't just that. Draco felt a pull in his
chest as he thought about the million and
one things he could tell her. Wanted to
tell her. Needed to tell her. The words
had branded themselves in his mind over
and over again and he could practically
hear himself saying them out loud to her.
The truth is, Hermione, he thought,
shutting his eyes briefly as he held her
tight, when I found you that night in the
Quarry, I wasn't the one saving you. You
were the one who saved me. And now,
again.
And after this, still.
32 | colovaria

32
colovaria
Changes colour.

There wasn't a moment to lose after

Draco had led Hermione out of the
building. The wards were down once
outside the premises, and he tugged her
firmly to his side, using side-along
apparition to get them the hell out of
there.
They landed by the seventh willow tree
in the blink of an eye, and Draco's mouth
fell open when he saw Kingsley
Shacklebolt, Professor McGonagall and
Rubeus Hagrid standing with
Andromeda some distance away. They
were deep in discussion, but Andromeda
looked half worried to death, and the
moment she saw Draco and Hermione,
she immediately rushed forward,
wrapping her arms tightly around the
two.
"Oh, thank Merlin you're both safe," she
whispered fervently before pulling back,
her eyes glossy with relieved tears. "I
was so worried when Theo told me he
couldn't apparate back into
headquarters."
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but a
loud gasp from Hagrid diverted his
attention. Before he knew it, Hermione
was dragged away from his side and
practically engulfed in Hagrid's
embrace. As for McGonagall, she
seemed thoroughly pleased and shocked
to see Hermione, hugging the girl tightly
after Hagrid had released her. Hermione
looked almost awkward with the sudden
outpouring of affection and immediately
latched herself back to Draco's side the
moment they released her.
He smirked when he felt her fingers
intertwine with his. "Hello, Professor,"
he drawled, pointedly ignoring
Shacklebolt and giving a polite nod to
Hagrid. "It's been awhile."
"Not long enough, Malfoy," McGonagall
returned, a calculative gleam in her eye
and a twitch on her lips. "If it wasn't for
Andromeda telling us all that you had
done for us the past three years, I would
never have believed it even if I'd seen
it."
"Why don't we all go inside?"
Andromeda suggested, still gazing
around worriedly. "It's not safe out
here."
"You four run along," Shacklebolt said
calmly. "Hagrid and I will stay out here
and make sure the wards stay in place."
Andromeda led the way inside.
McGonagall immediately began talking
to Hermione as they followed, even
though Hermione had cast a frantic
glance over her shoulder at Draco, who
simply shook his head and winked at her.
Draco was the last to head inside, after
he'd exchanged a quick, reconciliatory
nod with Shacklebolt. Hagrid had taken
a step forward for a hug, but Draco was
adamant on keeping his distance and
shook the giant's hand firmly instead.
"Thank yer fer bringin' 'Mione back,"
Hagrid said gratefully.
No, Draco thought, she brought me back.
If it wasn't for Hermione, Draco knew
that his guilt would've continued eating
at him, until he was nothing but a shell of
himself. But he didn't voice his thoughts
aloud and simply accepted Hagrid's
gratitude before heading into the house.
The sight that greeted him was one he
hadn't expected at all. People crowded
the entire place; the living room, sitting
room and hallway had been magically
expanded to accommodate everyone.
Some of them looked up as he entered
and, feeling rather self-conscious, he
tugged down the sleeve of his jumper to
cover his Dark Mark before looking
around for his friends.
He soon found them. Blaise, Pansy and a
couple of other people were in the
kitchen whipping up some sort of stew
that smelled delicious, while Theo was
taking care of Teddy. Even though Theo
had often grumbled about Teddy, Draco
knew that his friend was secretly fond of
the kid. And this, right now, was clearly
an advantageous situation for Theo as he
was surrounded by girls who seemed
equally as interested in Teddy as they
were in him, although in vastly different
ways altogether.
Ignoring everyone else, he headed up the
stairs and found a phial in the inventory,
which was in the spare room next to
Blaise's and Pansy's shared one. Once
alone in the room, he quickly siphoned
the memories of the Death-Eater he'd
stupefied earlier - Crabbe Senior. After
using Legilimency on the man, Draco
had learnt several things:
The first, and to his immense relief, was
that Dark Lord truly believed that four of
his Death-Eaters (him, Theo, Guthrie
and Rodolphus) had been captured by
the Order. And that had infuriated the
Dark Lord, because he'd lost his top
Death-Eater and three of his best
fighters.
The second was that the Dark Lord knew
that Pansy and Blaise had betrayed him.
Fortunately, it didn't matter much,
because the Dark Lord also believed that
Pansy and Blaise didn't know much
about the inner circle.
He was wrong, of course. 17-65 knew
everything, thanks to Draco.
The third was that the remaining Death-
Eaters had clearly been hard at work,
doubling their efforts to recruit new
members into the Dark Lord's army.
Draco didn't know the actual number, but
a rough estimate would place the Order
thoroughly outnumbered with a ratio of
five to one.
Things weren't looking good for the
Order, but what else was new?
So after retrieving Crabbe Senior's
memories, Draco had implanted a false
one and escaped the building with
Hermione. All Crabbe Senior would
remember of the incident was having
been knocked unconscious by an
unexpected charm set in place by the
Order.
Draco now inserted the man's memories
into the phial and, after using his wand
to mark some words on the surface of the
phial, he slotted it into one of the empty
cases on the shelf. Then he shut the door
carefully behind him and headed back
downstairs, where he was promptly
accosted by Hermione, who seemed glad
to see him.
"Professor McGonagall wants to speak
with you," she told him quietly. "And,
um - "
She glanced around, seeming almost
nervous by the blatant staring from the
people around in the living room, so he
allowed her to lead him past the kitchen
towards the narrow hallway that led out
to the back garden. There were still
some curious eyes on them, and Draco
angled them so that she was partially
shielded by him.
But the action forced them into close
proximity of each other, and Hermione
visibly swallowed as she found herself a
hairsbreadth away from him. Her fingers
unconsciously tightened on his arm and
she seemed to have trouble breathing.
"Granger," Draco murmured, watching in
amusement as her eyes dipped briefly to
his lips and feeling his stomach tighten
deliciously. Merlin, there was nothing
more he wanted to do than to kiss her -
eagerly, feverishly, hungrily; until she
could think of nothing else but him,
remember nothing else but him. But this
wasn't the time or place for it, so he
allowed his lips to tug up in a teasing
smirk instead. "You're staring."
"Sorry," she murmured sheepishly, and
now she bit her lip apprehensively and
he didn't know whether she was doing it
on purpose but it was sure as hell
fucking with his head.
Resisting the urge to let out a groan, he
reached up with one arm to cage her in,
resting it gently on the wall beside her
head and stepped closer. Her breathing
hitched accordingly, her brown eyes
wide and curls framing her face
perfectly as she stared up at him.
"Well?"
"Well what?" She breathed, her breath a
dulcet velvet fanning against his skin.
Unable to help himself, he lifted a hand
to her face and gently dragged a stray
curl away from her eyes, tucking it
neatly behind her ear. "You were
saying?" He prompted delicately, his
eyes glinting in teasing humour.
All at once, she blinked and the trance
was broken. "Oh, right," Hermione
sounded more lucid now, and she placed
a palm flat on his chest to ease him away
gently. "McGonagall wants to speak to
you. She's out on the back porch with
'Dromeda. I'd stay, but I - "
"But you'd rather help out in the kitchen,"
Draco finished for her, when she began
to falter. "Go ahead, Granger."
Hermione smiled in relief and gripped
his hand, squeezing his fingers briefly in
gratitude before letting go and heading
off to the kitchen. Draco watched her
leave with a trace of regret - he
should've taken the opportunity to kiss
her, maybe see if she'd kiss him back.
Shaking the thought from his head, he
strode towards the back door, yanking it
open and stepping out. He heard the hum
of magic as the protective wards
shielded the area around the house, so
faint and quiet it would've escaped him
had he not actually been listening for it.
McGonagall and Andromeda were deep
in conversation, but paused abruptly
when he cleared his throat to make his
presence known. After exchanging a
quick glance with McGonagall,
Andromeda stepped towards him,
nudging him surreptitiously as she
passed before heading inside altogether.
Draco paused awkwardly. He'd never
been particularly comfortable with the
Head of Gryffindor, and her strict,
sharp-tongued demeanour had always
been a source of intimidation to him,
although he'd rather kill himself than
admit that out loud.
He tried not to flinch as McGonagall
fixed her shrewd eyes on him, gesturing
for him to come over. Squaring his
shoulders, he took a deliberate,
calculative step forward; making sure
that his wand was within reach in the
pocket of his coat.
Just in case.
"Tell me, Malfoy," McGonagall began,
in her familiar no-nonsense tone that he'd
heard so much back during his Hogwarts
days, "exactly what are your intentions
here?"
"What?"
"Andromeda tells me that you've been
keeping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
off our tracks all this while. Searching
for Hermione Granger for three whole
years. Passing off as the enemy when
you're actually a Death-Eater gone
rogue." When Draco didn't reply, she
pressed, "are you on our side, Malfoy?"
"No," he didn't even need to think. The
answer came to him in a heartbeat.
McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "You're
not on the Order's side? Are you saying
that you're still on the side of evil?"
Draco's features hardened as three years
of memories rushed back in full force.
"Professor, you speak about the Order
and goodness as if they're one and the
same, when they're fucking not," he
replied, matter-of-factly, not even caring
when her eyebrows shot up at his
language. "If the Order is as good as you
say it is, why did my friends and I
manage to find so many defected
members of the Order?"
"You found defected Order members?"
"Dozens. And we didn't just find them,
we killed them," Draco drawled, almost
smirking at the look of shock that flitted
across McGonagall's face. "Including
Martins, a defected member of the Order
who became a Death-Eater."
She was silent for a moment and he
could almost see the calculative gleam
in her eyes as she processed his words.
"If you want, you can view Martins'
memories," Draco offered, "we kept
them in a phial and there's a Pensieve in
the inventory. In fact, we've been
collecting a lot of memories, and I'm
sure you could find the ones of old
defected Order members."
After a brief moment of hesitation,
McGonagall nodded and Draco led her
back into the house. For some reason,
Draco felt compelled to make her
believe his words, if only because she
was one of the few that actually bothered
to listen. Blaise had always said it didn't
hurt to have more people on their side.
And, maybe this time, he was right.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco headed downstairs sometime

later, only to see that the place had
emptied out by then. Hermione was
doing the dishes in the kitchen with
Andromeda, while Pansy had Teddy on
her lap, with Grus the house-elf next to
her. Blaise was fixing an injury of
Theo's, and Shacklebolt and Hagrid
were standing by the doorway,
conversing in hushed tones.
Teddy was the first to spot Draco and he
raised his arms. Draco quickly went to
the boy, scooping him up neatly and
pointedly ignoring the way McGonagall
was staring at him.
She smiled in faint amusement and
cleared her throat, catching the attention
of everyone else in the house, her
presence commanding in spite of her
wiry old frame. "I think it's time to lift
the lockdown on this house," she began,
to the astonishment of the other
Slytherins and Hermione. "Hagrid,
remove the anti-apparition wards
please. And Kingsley, I think we'll allow
the five to keep their wands."
Shacklebolt's eyebrows rose high on his
forehead. "Minerva - "
"I'm quite firm on my decision, Kingsley.
In a war like this, it might do us good to
place our faith in certain Death-Eaters."
Draco badly wanted to smirk at
Shacklebolt's surprise, but forced a
straight expression on his face. Instead,
he watched in silence as McGonagall
shot him a meaningful look, before
biding a goodbye to Andromeda and
heading out with her comrades. He didn't
miss the way Hermione kept a good
distance from them, as though she was
half afraid that they'd attack her with
hearty embraces again.
Once the door had shut, he felt like he
could finally breathe. He went into the
living room, collapsing onto the sofa and
setting Teddy on his lap, his arms
wrapped loosely around the toddler. His
muscles were aching and head reeling
from all the magic he'd done earlier that
day, and all he wanted to do was to
crawl into bed and sleep for about a
thousand years.
Preferably with Hermione.
But his hopes were regrettably crushed
when Blaise settled down opposite him
on the coffee table and nudged him. "So?
What did McGonagall say?"
"She saw the memories of the defected
Order members. And I think she might
have reconsidered because she gave us a
mission."
Blaise's eyes immediately brightened
which didn't surprise Draco at all.
Among the five of them, Blaise was the
most eager to actually help the Order.
Pansy would gladly follow, while the
other three of them just wanted to stick
together.
"She said we'd have to succeed if we
wanted to earn her trust," Draco added,
a frown glossing his forehead as he
recalled their earlier conversation.
"And?"
Draco shrugged. "And - I told her that I
couldn't fucking care less about her trust
and that I'd have to ask the rest of you."
"Well, what's the mission about?"
It was a complicated mission, one that
gave Draco a bloody headache just
thinking about it. And after all the things
that had happened that day, he wasn't too
sure he wanted to concoct another death-
trap mission.
So he shook his head and leaned back
against the back of the sofa. "I'm bloody
exhausted, Zabini. Why don't you tell me
about what happened during the time that
I was gone?"
Blaise chuckled in amusement. "You
mean while you were in the inventory
with McGonagall?" Draco nodded, and
he continued, "Shacklebolt set up a Floo
network in the fireplace and had the
refugees Floo to the other bases. Took a
bloody long while, but we finally got
them all out."
"That's it?"
"Er - oh, right," Blaise's eyes twinkled
as he suddenly thought of something else.
"Pansy got me to lug back this huge safe
from the Order. We haven't opened it yet
but we think it's something important.
Hold on, I'll get it."
Blaise disappeared into one of the
rooms just as Hermione came over, a
tray of food in her hands. "I thought you
might be hungry," she said, setting the
tray down on the coffee table and taking
Teddy from him. "There was hardly
enough to go round earlier, so if you're
still hungry, I'm sure I can make
something else later."
Draco's lips quirked up wryly and he
shook his head. "It's fine, Granger.
Staying awake is already fuc - "
"Language, Malfoy," Hermione
reminded, a teasing glint in her eyes.
He rolled his eyes. "Is this going to
become a habit with you?"
"Only when Teddy's around. I hardly
think 'Dromeda will be pleased if he
models his speech pattern on yours and
Theo's."
"I wouldn't be pleased at all,"
Andromeda's voice echoed from the
kitchen, evidently having overheard their
conversation. "Grus, please take Teddy
out before Draco corrupts him
altogether."
"I will not corrupt him! For fuc - "
"Draco!"
He subsided quickly at Andromeda's
yell, shooting Hermione an aggravated
look as she laughed at him. Grus ambled
over a moment later and Hermione
quickly passed Teddy over to him.
"Thank you for your help earlier, Grus,"
Hermione added, a kind smile on her
face. "We couldn't have done it without
you. In fact, I think the only reason we
succeeded was because of you." The
house-elf looked shy and pleased all at
once. He nodded quickly before leaving
with Teddy, and Hermione turned back
to Draco, raising her eyebrows at the
look of disbelief on his face. "It's true,"
she said indignantly, "we wouldn't even
have made it into the headquarters
without Grus. You should show a little
more appreciation for house-elves,
Draco."
He made a begrudging noise and
continued to eat. After awhile, Blaise
and Theo entered the living room,
carrying a heavy black box between
them. Pansy was trailing after them, a
collection of wands in her hand. With
difficulty, Blaise and Theo set the box
down on the floor, before looking over
at Draco.
"So? What do you think?"
"What do you mean 'what do you think'?"
Draco shot Blaise a sardonic look and
turned back to his food. "Just open the
bloody box."
"I've tried," Pansy sighed. "Nothing
works."
"Impossible," Draco shook his head,
reaching over to test the box with his
wand briefly. When there was no faint
buzz of magic, he pulled back and set his
wand aside. "You've removed all the
charms, Parkinson. There has to be some
sort of code on it that you have to undo
manually."
"There's a dial," Hermione pointed out,
"why don't you try cracking the code on
that?"
Eagerly, Theo pushed Pansy and Blaise
aside, ignoring their aggravated protests.
"Here, let me try."
The four Slytherins and Hermione sat
staring at the box for awhile longer as
they watched Theo spin the dial over
and over in different combinations, until
a soft patter of feet broke them from their
concentration.
Andromeda's eyes widened in disbelief
as she took in the sight of the precious
safe. Wiping her hands on her apron, she
took several steps closer. "Where did
you get that?"
"Shacklebolt's room," returned Pansy,
with a small frown on her forehead. "At
least, I think it's Shacklebolt's room. We
found our wands and a lot of spares
there too."
"Do you know how to open it,
'Dromeda?" Blaise asked curiously,
noticing the expression on her face.
"I - "
"Help us open it, 'Dromeda, or I'll use
Legilimency on you." It was an empty
threat, but Draco couldn't resist.
And he didn't flinch when Andromeda
reached over to smack him soundly on
the head. "How dare you threaten your
Aunt?" She glared at him in mock-
indignation and he simply smirked in
response. But after a moment's
hesitation, she sighed, kneeling down
beside Theo and placing a hand on the
dial. "Okay, but the five of you can't tell
anyone what's in this safe."
"We promise," Hermione assured her,
and the others mumbled their agreement.
They watched as Andromeda twisted the
dial in a certain, well-rehearsed pattern.
The dial gave a short click, and she
tugged on the door lightly to open the
safe. Tentatively, she drew out the first
object that made all the Slytherins' eyes
widen.
"Shit. Is that the - " Blaise was the first
to break the silence, just as the tear
along the Sorting Hat's brim began to
sing loudly.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but - "
The Hat was quickly cut off mid-song as
Draco shot a Silencio at it. The others
turned to look at him quizzically and he
simply returned a sardonic look. "You
know that once the bloody thing starts
singing, it goes on for about an hour."
"Don't exaggerate, Draco," Andromeda
chided him gently when Hermione's eyes
began to widen. The brunette witch was
staring at the Hat in fascination, as
though she vaguely remembered it but
only barely. Andromeda noticed the
curious expression on Hermione's face
and she smiled down at the girl. "Do you
want to try it?"
Hermione blinked. "Who, me?"
"Yes. It's a Sorting Hat - it places you
into any one of the four houses."
Theo frowned. "But Red was already
sorted into Gryffindor," he began, even
as Andromeda disregarded him and
gently placed the Hat over Hermione's
wild curls. Draco removed the Silencing
charm and the Hat began to speak.
"Hmm, well, clever, of course - very
clever," the Hat drawled, and Hermione
looked startled as the Hat shifted on her
head. "With a righteous sense of honour,
you should belong in Gryffindor, of
course. But, then again, you are an
unusual combination - heroic but not
entirely brave as a Gryffindor should be,
instead depending on your wit to pull
through. And so I would say -
Ravenclaw."
Hermione smiled; clearly pleased by the
Hat's decision, but the other Slytherins
stared at her with open mouths. Even
Draco looked faintly perturbed, which
was an odd expression coming from him.
"Ravenclaw?" Pansy looked at the hat in
disbelief. "Is the Hat ruined?"
"Not at all," Andromeda returned
calmly, even though she seemed rather
surprised. "It's been said that the Hat
sorts people based on the qualities they
desire, rather than the qualities they
actually have. Perhaps Hermione no
longer desires the same things she once
did," Andromeda finished, casting a
swift, surreptitious glance at Draco.
No one noticed the furtive look but
Hermione, and as she met Andromeda's
eyes and saw the knowing glint in them,
she fought the urge to smile. Andromeda
knew her far too well.
"Okay, can I try?" Blaise asked eagerly,
getting up from his seat on the armchair
to settle down on the floor next to
Andromeda.
She placed the Hat on him and, without
much deliberation; the Hat quickly
sorted him into Slytherin. It did the same
for Pansy, who went after Blaise. Then
came Theo, who looked rather wary
when Andromeda tugged the Hat over
his head.
"If the bloody thing doesn't put me into
Slytherin I'm gonna kill myself," Theo
grumbled much to Hermione's
amusement. The room was silent as
everyone watched the Hat's tip tilting
briefly before it spoke.
"Gryffindor!"
"What the actual fuck?"
Hermione burst out laughing at the look
of sheer horror on Theo's face as he all
but threw the Hat off him and scrambled
away. Pansy and Blaise were laughing
hard as well and there was a mocking
smile curving Draco's lips. Even
Andromeda looked rather amused as she
chuckled softly.
"It's broken!" Theo declared, glaring
down at the Hat like it was his greatest
enemy. "You're fucking broken!"
"What's wrong with Gryffindor?"
Hermione asked, only to have the other
four turn to look at her with matching
looks of disgust.
"It's Gryffindor," Theo said, as if it was
explanation enough. "I'm not going to be
in the same house as Saint Potter and the
bloody Weasel! The Hat has made a
bloody mistake - and we are never
telling anyone about this, do you hear
me?" He growled warningly at the
others, "I was sorted into Slytherin and I
will stay a Slytherin!"
"Alright, Theo," Andromeda said
comfortingly, trying to stifle her smile as
she picked up the discarded Hat.
"Draco? Do you want a go?"
"Draco's brave," Blaise pointed out
reasonably, even though Draco quickly
shot his friend an icy look.
"True," Pansy concurred, with a smile
playing on her lips. "He's no longer as
cowardly as he used to be back during
Hogwarts days. He might just get sorted
into Gryffindor."
And now Theo's eyes gleamed as he sat
back down next to Blaise. "This should
be good."
Hermione took the Hat from Andromeda
and lowered it onto Draco. But the
moment the Hat glossed his head, it
made an instantaneous decision.
"Slytherin!"
"Damn it!" came Theo's cry of dismay;
but Hermione wasn't surprised at all.
While Draco certainly was braver than
he used to be, she knew that he was far
more resourceful and cunning than
anything. The Hat wasn't wrong at all.
Draco smirked at Theo's crestfallen
face. "Sorry you're not one of us
anymore, Gryffindor."
"I'm in Slytherin!" Theo fired back
heatedly, scowling at everyone in the
room. "Slytherin!"
Pansy grinned. "Aw, don't get your
knickers in a twist, Gryffindor."
Theo flipped her off and got up to look
into the safe again. He pulled out a
couple more things - some papers that
Andromeda hastily grabbed away before
any of them could read it, an old blank
parchment which Blaise and Draco
immediately began deciphering, along
with a gleaming object that made
Hermione's eyes widen.
"What's that?" Theo asked, staring at it
in fascination. The other three Slytherins
were staring at it with equal curiosity -
they didn't know at all. But Hermione
suddenly knew exactly what it was with
every fibre of her being; the realisation
so distinct and clear that it felt like
someone had laid a well-aimed punch to
her gut.
"The Sword of Gryffindor," Hermione
murmured, before Andromeda could
reply. All eyes turned to her at once, and
she swallowed, her throat inexplicably
dry and heart pounding against her chest.
She needed to get out of there. She got to
her feet, muttering a quick apology under
her breath and rushed towards the stairs.
Her mind was still in a whirl as she
returned back to Draco's room -
should've been her own, but she'd spent
so many nights sleeping next to him that
she now considered his room hers as
well - and curled up on the bed, gripping
the pillow tightly and forcing herself to
breathe.
She remembered flashes now, and it
scared her. She remembered hiding the
Sword, using the Sword to...destroy -
what was it? She couldn't remember that.
But somewhere in the farthest recesses
of her memory, she remembered other
things faintly - going on the run, hiding in
a tent, fighting, fighting, fighting.
She felt like she was split between two
halves of herself - the person she used to
and the person she had become when
Draco had found her. Pre-capture and
post-capture. How could you ever
reconcile the two?
"Granger?" Draco's voice drew her out
of her reverie. He was staring at her
with faint concern as he shut the door
behind him. "What's wrong?"
She didn't hesitate to shift closer to him
when he slid into bed and wrapped his
arms around her. The thrum of his
heartbeat was steady against her cheek
and her mind traced back to a
conversation she had with Andromeda
several days ago.
"Are you - " she started, haltingly, her
voice so low it was almost inaudible, " -
are you sometimes scared that I'll regain
all my memories?"
He was silent for so long she almost
thought that he'd fallen asleep. But then
he shifted slightly, his arms tightening
around her and lips moving against her
forehead as he spoke. "Terrified."
"Me too," she whispered, letting a small
smile gloss her lips as she realised that
her fears weren't completely
unwarranted for. She wasn't alone in
this.
33 | relashio

33
r el as hi o
Releases the target's grip.

During breakfast the next morning,

Draco relayed McGonagall's mission to
the others, with Andromeda silently
listening in as usual. The Order was
missing some of its best fighters thanks
to the battle at Gringotts and while
Shacklebolt was wary to launch another
rescue mission - since the first one had
turned out to be such a disaster;
McGonagall thought otherwise.
"So she's asking us to rescue them?"
Blaise had quickly gotten a good grip on
the situation, and his eyes were
brimming with excitement. Pansy looked
equally intrigued, while Hermione was
worrying her bottom lip.
And Theo, like the ever-unenthusiastic,
anti-Order, defected Death-Eater that he
was, was simply chewing stoically on a
slice of bacon.
"Apparently so," Draco shrugged,
reaching for his mug to take a generous
swig of his coffee. "McGonagall says
that they're being held in at the Ministry
of Magic."
"Why not at Malfoy Manor?" Pansy
asked curiously. "The Dark Lord's
always kept his prisoners there."
"Probably because all his prisoners
escaped the last time he put them there,"
Draco shot her a meaningful look and
she immediately knew he was talking
about the night they defected. "Anyway,
ever since the Dark Lord took over the
bloody Ministry some years ago, the
basement of the building's always been
for prisoners. The Malfoy Manor only
houses the important prisoners - but not
anymore, I think."
A silence fell upon the table. Only
Blaise and Pansy seemed remotely
interested. Draco just knew that he'd
have to help them; and by the looks of it,
Hermione was only on board if the
others were. Theo, on the other hand,
was staring at his food like it was ten
times more interesting than the subject at
hand.
"Would the five of us be sufficient?"
Blaise said at last, a frown etched on his
forehead. "It seems like a lot to handle
with just five of us and so many others to
save."
"You could recruit," Andromeda
suggested, taking her attention
momentarily off the frying pan to glance
over her shoulder at them. "Even though
Kingsley's not willing to send rescue
missions, I see no reason why the Order
members can't offer their assistance if
they're willing."
"Draco?" Blaise turned to his friend,
who gave another reluctant shrug.
"It's worth a shot."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

So after breakfast, Andromeda headed to

the headquarters with Blaise and Pansy.
They had agreed that Draco and Theo
were not the best people to go,
considering the fact that both of them had
a knack of saying maddening things that
just riled people up. Hermione was
more than reluctant to meet the Order,
and so she stayed behind as well.
The weather was chilly out, and she had
just made several cups of hot chocolate.
After handing one each to Grus, Teddy
and Theo, who were all in the living
room, she brought the remaining two
mugs upstairs.
She found Draco in the inventory,
hunched over the Pensieve, his arms
braced over the smooth rim of the bowl.
Draco was never hunched; he always
held himself with the kind of confident,
almost-arrogant stride, with a grace that
she always envied. Even back at
Hogwarts. She had her intelligence. He -
had everything else.
He didn't hear her when she set the mugs
down on the shelf, and it wasn't until she
placed her palm flat against the tight
planes of his back when he shifted
fractionally. He didn't turn.
"Draco?" Worry had seeped into her
voice, and she stepped closer, angling
her head so she could get a better look at
him. "Is everything alright?"
His face illuminated by the faint light
streaming in through the open window,
but the normally guarded look on his
features were completely obliterated and
in its place lay a shade of sadness she'd
never seen before on him. And she
thought back about all the times she'd
seen him display a wide variety of
emotions - angry with a sneer on his
face; taunting with a mocking grin;
pleased with a twinkle in his eyes; even
terrified with the colour drained from
his cheeks.
But this - this was different.
His grey eyes met hers for a brief
moment before he glanced away. "Yeah,
I was, um - " he swallowed roughly,
opening his hand to reveal a phial laying
on the calloused bowl of his palm, a
phial that Hermione instantly recognised.
" - memories of my mother."
"Is that the phial I gave you for
Christmas?"
When he didn't answer, her heart sank
and she reached forward to grasp his
arms, pulling him away from the
Pensieve. She remembered why she'd
made the phial for him. It was one of the
few memories she had of his mother.
Hermione couldn't remember much of
her earliest days in captivity, but she did
remember being locked up in the cellar
of the Malfoy Manor for awhile. She
remembered a blonde woman rushing
down the steps, dark skirts sweeping the
dusty floors of the cellar. The woman's
gaze had landed on Hermione and her
eyes had widened.
"Look at you," whispered Narcissa
Malfoy, and Hermione remembered that
the fear on Narcissa's face was mirrored
on her own. The older woman gripped
pointed the wand to Hermione's bleeding
chest. "Vulnera Sanentur."
She repeated it two more times, causing
the deep gashes on Hermione's skin to
heal and the wounds to seal up tight.
When Hermione blinked, Narcissa
Malfoy had vanished. She never saw the
woman again. The next time she heard
about her was from Draco.
And by that time, Narcissa Malfoy was
already dead.
Hermione now lifted her gaze to meet
Draco's, an apologetic expression on her
face. "Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't think that
they would get you all upset - "
"I'm not upset, Granger," he shook his
head, blond hair falling into his eyes and
she reached up to brush it away from his
face. "I just - " and he swallowed again,
his lips twisting into a hard line as he
inhaled sharply. " - fuck, I just - "
" - miss her?" Hermione supplied, when
he seemed incapable of finishing his
sentence. He shut his eyes briefly and
nodded, and so she reached over and
pulled him close without hesitation. "I
know you do."
He was silent for awhile as Hermione
wrapped her arms around him, his
breathing ragged and uneven against her
hair, his grip tight and almost unyielding
on her. Hermione brushed her thumb
briefly across his cheek and placed a
soft kiss along his jawline before
burying her face against his neck.
"Do you - " when he broke the silence,
his voice was low and almost desperate.
" - do you ever think you'll stop missing
someone?"
Hermione thought about all the people
from the past she missed, and realised
that she didn't quite miss them enough.
Because she'd forgotten about them, you
see. But then she thought about the
people in the present that she loved, and
how much she would miss them if they
were gone. Just the thought of losing
them - any of them - sent a painful stab in
her chest, like someone had taken a knife
and plunged it straight into her heart, and
twisted.
"You know," Hermione mused softly, a
sad smile curving on her lips, "I don't
think you ever do."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was seated on the front porch

studying a book about Patronus charms
when she saw Andromeda, Blaise and
Pansy heading down the path that led
back to the house. She immediately
jumped up, a frown glossing her
forehead as she noticed the weary looks
on their faces.
Theo, who had been sitting next to her,
took one look at them and raised his
eyebrows questioningly. "No luck?" He
asked, once they were within earshot.
"None," Blaise sounded rather
disheartened as he headed into the
house. He strode into the living room,
collapsing tiredly on the sofa next to
Draco, who had Teddy on his lap.
"Apart from Luna - no one else offered."
"You should've seen the way everyone
stared at us," Pansy added, in annoyance,
settling down on the arm of the sofa.
"Like we were the Dark Lord's offspring
-"
"Thanks for the mental image,
Parkinson," Draco deadpanned; passing
Teddy over to Andromeda, who
immediately scooped her grandson up
into her arms and settled down on the
armchair adjacent to the coffee table.
Hermione soon came out of the kitchen
with three mugs of hot chocolate that she
gave to Andromeda, Blaise and Pansy.
She sat down on the empty spot in
between Draco and Theo, and offered a
sympathetic smile. "I'm sure the five of
us and Luna can pull this off," she said
optimistically, but the others didn't look
so certain.
"Is this what it's going to be like?"
Blaise sighed, looking over at
Andromeda. "Are we always going to
have to grovel in front of the Order for
an opportunity to be good?"
"Speak for yourself," Theo interjected,
"I'm not grovelling in front of the bloody
Order, ever."
"I don't know, Blaise," Andromeda said,
shaking her head faintly. "I think a lot of
things have changed in three years, and
the Order's definitely one of them." She
took a sip of the hot chocolate before
setting the mug back down on the coffee
table, smiling briefly at the five of them.
"Isn't it funny how the four of you
Slytherins are far more accepting of
change and differences than the Order?"
Draco smirked. "You're a Slytherin too,
'Dromeda," he pointed out and all of
them immediately turned to Hermione,
who blinked.
"What?"
"You're in a house full of Slytherins,"
Theo grinned. "How're you holding up,
Red?"
"I'm surviving," Hermione returned
good-naturedly, curling up against
Draco's side as she listened to the idle
chatter from the others. She realised,
then, that it wasn't so much a place that
made it a home, than the people who
made it one. Whether it was back at the
apartment or here at Andromeda's, she
felt completely at ease.
She was home. And that was all that
mattered at a time like this.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The next day, Hermione asked Blaise to
teach her the Patronus Charm. He looked
equal parts surprised and pleased,
because neither Draco nor Theo had
exhibited the slightest interest in learning
how to cast one.
"It's actually not that easy," Blaise
explained, when they were practicing
out on the front porch. His wand was
positioned to cast the spell as a
demonstration for Hermione, who
looked both excited and eager. "A lot of
people can't cast a Patronus, let alone
one that takes on a corporeal form."
"Corporeal?" Hermione asked, from her
seat on the front step.
"Yeah, watch - " Blaise focused,
drawing circles with the wand before
murmuring, almost half-heartedly,
"Expecto Patronum." Instantly, a burst of
white light shot forth in the shape of a
flimsy shield that vaporised just as
quickly. "That's a non-corporeal one," he
turned to Hermione briefly to elaborate,
before clearing his head and focusing
again. "And this is a corporeal one -
Expecto Patronum!"
This time, the surge of white light was
far more brilliant and powerful. It
morphed into a wolf that seemed to
charge into the far distance for about
three seconds before fading away
altogether.
Blaise slipped the wand back into his
pocket and grinned at Hermione, who
was staring up at him with wide brown
eyes. He didn't think she ever looked this
impressed back during her Hogwarts
days and, truth be told, it felt pretty damn
good because this was Hermione
Granger, and impressing her always
seemed like an accomplishment on its
own.
"Clear your head and just think of the
happiest memory you have," Blaise said,
gesturing for Hermione to pick up her
wand. "Then circle your wand several
times and recite the incantation."
Hermione bit her lip and slowly climbed
to her feet, her wand in hand. "Is your
happiest memory of Pansy?" She asked
curiously. When Blaise looked at her in
surprise, she hastened to add, "I mean,
your Patronus is a wolf after all."
Blaise made a mental note to report
Hermione's observation to Draco later
on. Over the months, they'd seen a slow
but gradual improvement, and
Hermione's intelligence was beginning
to shine once again. He nodded before
shooting her a knowing look. "And your
happiest memory probably has
something to do with Draco?"
Hermione blushed amidst his teasing and
held up her wand. "Expecto Patronum,"
she chanted, disappointment flickering
across her face when nothing happened.
"It's fine, Red. The Patronus Charm is
one of the most difficult defensive spells
to master, and it's even harder than - "
Blaise trailed off, frowning as he
suddenly spotted two in the distance. "Is
that Luna?"
Hermione followed the direction of his
gaze, her eyes widening when she saw
Luna heading down the path towards the
house. Another person was striding
alongside her, a familiar redhead with
freckles, his hands gesticulating wildly
as he spoke to Luna.
Blaise whistled through his teeth.
"Draco and Theo are not going to be
happy to see one of the Weasels here.
That's George Weasley," he added, when
Hermione looked up at him for
confirmation. It seemed that apart from
Ron - who Luna talked frequently about,
and Ginny - whom Hermione vaguely
remembered; the rest of the Weasley
family confused her terribly.
George seemed to spot the two of them
on the porch just then, and a smile lit his
face as he rushed forward. "'Mione!" He
yelled, with the familiarity of a long-
time friend. Hermione immediately
faltered a step back, but before she knew
it, George was sweeping her up into his
arms, pulling her into a bone-crushing
hug. "It's so great to see you!"
"Hello, George," Hermione smiled
faintly, but the moment he let her go, she
darted behind Blaise, who shot her an
amused look.
"I thought Luna was seeing things when
she said that you were back," George
said. "She told me what happened.
How've you been?"
"I've been good, thank you," Hermione
squeaked, her eyes still wide as she
regarded him with blatant curiosity. So
this was George Weasley. There were
faint memories she had of him - of him
and his twin brother, whom Draco had
told her was killed during the Battle of
Hogwarts. George Weasley looked
cheerful as ever now, even though he
was missing one of his ears.
Luna came up then, her face flushed as
she had to run the rest of the way to
catch up with George. "Hi," she greeted
the other two, a warm smile on her face.
"Is Draco here? I told George about the
mission McGonagall was sending you
guys on, and he's really excited about
being a part of it."
Blaise looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yes, really," George said, the smile
quickly slipping off his face as his
demeanour grew serious. "Ginny's
among those captured by You-Know-
Who. Couldn't call myself a proper
brother if I didn't save her."
"George came back just this morning,"
Luna explained, "I'm sure Ron and the
others would join this mission if they
knew about it. But one of the bases got
attacked the other day - the same day the
headquarters was attacked, by the way -
and they're trying to safeguard the other
bases."
"Apparently, You-Know-Who's
launching an attack on the remaining
three bases sometime today," added
George.
"So the Ministry's probably not as
guarded as it should be," Blaise quickly
deduced, his eyes suddenly bright as he
crossed the threshold and opened the
door. "Come on in," he called over his
shoulder, as he climbed the stairs to find
Draco.
George and Luna headed inside, quickly
exchanging greetings with Pansy and
Theo, who were reading in the living
room. Unlike the other Order members,
George didn't seem to have a problem at
all with their Dark Marks, and he was
just about to launch into a discussion
with Theo about quidditch when he
spotted a familiar-looking parchment on
the coffee table.
"How did you get that?" George asked,
swiping up the paper and staring at it
with barely-concealed surprise.
"We found it," Pansy said vaguely,
hardly wanting to give away the fact that
she'd basically pilfered through
Shacklebolt's things. She half expected
Shacklebolt to come round to
Andromeda's place any day now to
demand for his things back; but since he
hadn't, she knew that he'd simply
assumed it had all been stolen by the
Death-Eaters.
It was just as well. None of them seemed
particularly willing to return Shacklebolt
his things - apart from Theo, of course,
who thought of the Sorting Hat as the
bane of his existence and wanted to burn
it on a daily basis.
"But it's charmed," Theo said now,
dismissing the old parchment with a
wave of his hand. "We can't figure it
out."
"'Course you can't," George laughed
good-humouredly, sitting down on the
coffee table opposite Luna and
Hermione. "You need the right touch to
work it - here, I'll show you."
Apart from Luna, who seemed to know
exactly what it was; the other three in the
living room leaned over in curiosity,
watching silently as George drew out his
wand and tapped the parchment once.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no
good."
Theo began to read aloud the words that
appeared on the parchment. "Messrs
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
are proud to present," he paused,
frowning slightly as a building they all
knew appeared on the paper. "The
Marauder's Map."
"That's Hogwarts," Pansy breathed,
staring at the map in fascination.
"Every inch of Hogwarts," George
declared, looking both pleased and a
little sad all at once. "Every classroom,
every hallway, every secret passage
there is to discover. Every person inside
Hogwarts can be seen on this map.
Check this out - " he pointed to a
particular name, "Alecto Carrow's in the
Great Hall right this moment."
Theo shook his head in disbelief. "Yes,
well, ever since the Dark Lord took over
Hogwarts, the bloody Carrows have set
up base there. But seriously, this is one
hell of an invention."
"Isn't it? Fred and I nicked it from
Filch's office years ago," George paused
briefly, a shadow crossing his face and
Hermione knew at once what it was.
She'd seen the same emotion on Draco
just the day before. The kind of sadness
that never waned no matter how much
time passed when someone so important
to you left forever.
So when Pansy, Theo and Luna had taken
the map aside to study it further,
Hermione lingered behind, struggling to
find the right words to say to comfort
him. "I'm sorry about Fred," she said
simply, a faint, sad smile curving her
face as she looked up at George.
He looked rather wistful for a moment
before shaking his head. "It's fine,
'Mione," he said, before adding, "I'm
sorry about Crookshanks, by the way."
"Crookshanks?"
"Your cat? It died some months after we
lost you."
"Oh." Hermione vaguely recalled a
ginger-coloured, rather ugly looking cat
that she had once been rather fond of.
But a lot of her past life seemed foreign
to her, and every emotion or thought or
feeling she once had often seemed like
they belonged to a stranger.
Hermione supposed she missed
Crookshanks, but she couldn't miss
something that she could barely
remember having to begin with.
Draco strode into the living room at that
moment, Blaise trailing after him, and
took his seat on the arm of the sofa next
to Hermione. "Loony," Draco greeted,
tossing her a dismissive nod before
doing the same to George. "One-eared
Weasel."
Hermione audibly gasped. "Draco!"
George, on the other hand, seemed
thoroughly amused to see him and simply
grinned. "Don't worry about it, 'Mione.
The only reason why I'm putting up with
Ferret-Malfoy is because he saved me
two years ago instead of killing me like
he should have."
All eyes promptly swivelled to Draco,
who shot George a cold glare. "I didn't."
"Yes, you did. Remember that battle at
Whitehall? You took me down with a
Stupefy before I could get killed by
Bellatrix. Don't think I forgot that."
"Oh, Draco did the same for me too,"
Luna chimed in, looking absolutely
pleased now, "otherwise, I would've
been dead."
"I would've killed you if it were
necessary," Draco shot back evenly,
"now shut up about it. And Granger -
stop looking at me like that, I didn't save
anyone."
Theo chuckled. "Draco Malfoy - a
fucking hero? Never thought I'd live to
see the day."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Getting into the Ministry of Magic was

easy.
Draco knew the grounds of the place
fairly well, since he used to pass on new
laws to the Ministry back when he was
under the Dark Lord's orders. They had
split up as usual - the Weasley twin, with
his reckless behaviour and Theo, with
his equally reckless behaviour were to
create diversions on the first floor.
Pansy and Blaise were to hunt for
important information in the upper rooms
and put down any Death-Eater guarding
the place, while Hermione and Luna
were tasked with freeing as many
captives as they possibly could.
Draco, on the other hand, knew exactly
where the most important prisoners were
held. He headed straight for Pius
Thicknesse's office all the while under a
Disillusionment charm. The Imperiused
Minister for Magic was, as he'd
predicted, seated stolidly behind his
desk. But the moment the explosion
resonated throughout the building,
Thicknesse and his other colleagues ran
out of the room to investigate, with
shouts of horror and anger along the
way.
Draco smirked. So he'd always thought
that the Weasley twin - like the rest of
the other Weasleys - was an absolute git,
but it seemed like his Decoy Detonators
had worked brilliantly.
Swiftly, Draco shut the doors across the
room with his wand, sealing them tight
with charms. He strode towards
Thicknesse's desk; a contraption that he
was certain Thicknesse himself knew
how to operate. After reciting several
complicated incantations under his
breath, Draco tapped the paperweight
thrice and quickly stepped back.
Instantly, the desk shifted to split itself
into two equal halves. A shelf of papers
stacked in a neat row emerged from
within, notes that held important
information about the record of each and
every Death-Eater that the Dark Lord
had recruited.
Draco thumbed through the notes
quickly, feeling a surge of relief when he
realised that his and Theo's files were
still inside, along with Guthrie's and
Rodolphus's. He'd been wondering if the
Dark Lord had been onto their trail ever
since the night they defected, especially
since he hadn't felt his Dark Mark burn
since.
But now he knew that they were safe - at
least for now; and the only reason why
their Marks no longer burned was
because the Dark Lord had probably cut
off his connection to them, having
presumed them dead.
Pansy and Blaise, however, were
officially wiped from the record, and
Draco knew that he'd have to watch out
for them. Their lives were at stake, and
one wrong move could destroy not just
17-65, but the rest of the Order as well.
Draco soon left the notes alone, heading
towards the piece of wall behind the
desk. Even if Thicknesse knew what was
inside the desk, he had no idea that there
was something else behind his desk. Of
course, as someone cast under an
Imperius curse for years, Pius
Thicknesse really didn't know a lot of
things, and Draco suspected that the
Dark Lord secretly revelled in having
the Minister for Magic twisted around
his thumb.
Holding the tip of the wand taut against
the wall, he found that the initial tingle
of magic was no longer present, thanks
to the incantation he'd recited earlier. He
drew an inverse S-shape with his wand
and murmured, "Alohomora."
This time, the walls slid open to reveal a
large secured cell, with a square
window barely a few inches wide.
Draco ignored the window, instead
undoing the complicated locks on the
door. And when the door was unlocked,
he wasn't at all surprised to see a red-
haired, freckled-face, puffy-eyed girl
staring back at him with a horrified
expression on her face.
He smirked. "Hello, Weaselette."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Blaise hadn't even known what hit him

until he found ropes twisting tightly into
his skin, so tight he could barely breathe.
He cursed at himself as he felt himself
being dragged across the corridor
towards the Death-Eater waiting at the
end - it was his fault, really, for
forgetting to recast a Disillusionment
Charm on himself. He'd gotten so carried
away in his search for new information
about the Dark Lord's army that he'd
entirely disregarded self-preservation.
But when the Death-Eater flipped up his
mask and stared down at him in
disbelief, Blaise wondered if perhaps
things had taken a turn for the better.
"Zabini?"
Blaise grinned, even though he
maintained a tight grip on his wand.
"Pritchard. Good to see you again,
mate."
Graham Pritchard blinked in confusion.
"Merlin, did you really defect? The Dark
Lord's furious as hell. What're you doing
here?"
"If you want to kill me, you may as well
get along with it," Blaise returned
calmly, knowing that it probably wasn't
the wisest decision to let spill about the
Order, or the other two Death-Eaters that
had defected alongside him and Pansy.
Graham tensed. After what seemed like
forever and a hell of an internal debate
going on in his head, he fell a step back,
shaking his head slowly. "You saved my
life once, Zabini. I suppose - I can look
the other direction this time. Relashio."
Instantly, Blaise felt the ropes around
him loosen marginally and he exhaled in
relief.
Graham pointed to the hallway down the
left. "There's an exit there. The Death-
Eaters are coming in from the other
side."
"Thanks."
"I hope I won't see you around, Zabini."
Graham apparated away without another
word, and Blaise quickly took the
opportunity to shove the ropes off
himself, before hiding in an alcove,
lighting the phials to signal the rest of
17-65. As far as he was knew, he'd had a
lucky escape this time round but he
wasn't a cat with nine lives. Graham
Pritchard was the first of many Death-
Eaters that had made their way into the
Ministry of Magic, and it was time to get
the hell out of there.
Fast.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco thought that if there was one

species on this earth that needed to go
extinct, it had to be the Weasels. The
whole damn family. Ronald the fucking
Weasel was already idiotic enough, not
to mention his chatterbox of a brother
George; but this shrill, aggravating fiery-
haired girl in front of him took the icing
off the fucking cake altogether.
"You can't just barge in here and pretend
to save me when you're obviously a
Death-Eater!" Ginny yelled, for the
millionth time. "Just get away from me!"
And Draco rolled his eyes for the
millionth time and wondered if
Hermione would ever forgive him if he
hexed her friend. "Trust me, Ginevra,"
he drawled, trying to get a firm clamp on
his temper. His phials were burning and
time was running out. "That's the one
thing I want to do most. Unfortunately,
your stupid brother is out there fighting
off Death-Eaters to save your sad little
life - "
"Which brother?"
Draco blinked. He could see that she'd
been through a fair amount of torture -
though nothing compared to what
Hermione had gone through - but Ginny
was now looking far more alert than she
had mere seconds ago. "Huh?" He
blurted stupidly.
"My brother, Malfoy," she snapped,
"which brother is it?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, why does it
matter?" Then he paused as he suddenly
remembered. Perhaps one of her
brothers meant more to her than the other
- probably the last twin, given that his
counterpart had died in the war three
years ago. But what was his name again?
There were just too many fucking
Weasels populating this earth.
"The one-eared one," was all he
managed to come up with at last.
Ginny's face contorted with something
akin to anger. "You take that back!" She
spat, "how dare you say that about
George?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Taking a
deliberate step closer to Ginny, he
ignored her screams and futile attempts
to hit him. "You know, Ginevra, I've
always wanted to stun a Weasley - "
"Don't you bloody dare, Malfoy - "
"Oh, too late," Draco smirked as she
slumped forward, completely knocked
out by his spell. Thank Merlin, because
she was annoying as anything and he
knew that her screams were just
attracting attention.
He reached forward to grab Ginny by the
waist, holding the girl tightly as they
apparated the hell out of the building.
Ronald the Weasel and Saint Harriet
Potter had better fucking kiss his feet for
doing this.
34 | silencio

34
s i l enci o
Silences target.

When Draco apparated back to

Andromeda's house, he barely had time
to set the motionless Ginny down on the
floor before a familiar figure rushed at
him. Hermione's brown eyes were wide,
her grip almost too tight, sheer relief
flitting across her face as she stared up
at him.
"Thank Merlin you're safe," she said
fervently, loosening her grip after she'd
hugged him tightly. But one of her hands
still latched onto the sleeve of his jacket
and she looked reluctant to let him go
entirely.
Not that he was complaining. Hermione
was entirely expressive about her
feelings and he secretly liked that,
envying her because he could never have
the courage to do the same. He just
wasn't raised in a family that openly
expressed their affections, and things
like these had always made him
uncomfortable.
With Hermione, however, it was almost
different.
Draco cast a swift glance around and,
when he realised that no one else was in
the living room, reached down to tuck a
stray curl behind her ear. "Where're the
others?"
Hermione quickly updated him on the
situation. Since Blaise had been the first
one to light the phials and alert everyone
else, he and Pansy were also the first to
return. Then Luna had used side-along
apparition to bring Hermione back.
"Luna said the Order would be glad to
see their rescued members, so she and
Blaise and Pansy brought them back
first," Hermione added, once she was
finished. "'Dromeda went along with
them too. I've been waiting for you, Theo
and George."
A flicker of doubt entered Draco's eyes
as he pulled back abruptly from
Hermione. "They're not back yet?"
"No." Hermione bit her lip, casting a
glance at Ginny Weasley, who lap in a
motionless heap on the floor. "Is she
alright?"
"She's fine." Draco quickly levitated
Ginny over to the bed in the guest room
before heading back out. "I should
probably get Theo - "
The words were barely past his lips
when the sounds of apparition made both
Draco and Hermione whirl around.
George stumbled in, supporting a
battered Theo who walked with a bad
limp, crimson blood streaking down one
side of his face. Hermione gasped,
rushing into the kitchen to get the healing
potions while Draco immediately
stepped forward to support Theo on his
other side.
"What happened?"
"Oh, you know," Theo shrugged, "we
had a tea party with the Dark Lord. Ate
biscuits and fruitcake and all. Had a
bloody lovely time."
Draco felt the urge to hex his friend, and
he supposed that if Theo weren't so
beaten up, he would've genuinely
considered it.
"The Death-Eaters couldn't see where
we were, because Theo had put
Disillusionment charms on the both of
us," George explained, setting Theo
down on the armchair. "So they
destroyed the building. Theo here
pushed me out of the way and got
himself hurt instead."
Theo rolled his eyes at George, before
lurching forward to cough out a mouthful
of blood on the floor. "Seems like the
Weasley family owes a lot to a bunch of
Slytherins - "
"Oh, Ginny!" George's eyes widened and
he turned to Draco. "Did you - "
"Guest room." Draco pointed to the
room on the left and George quickly
abandoned the conversation, rushing
inside to check up on his sister.
Hermione came hurrying out of the
kitchen then, balancing a tray of potions
in one hand and using her wand to
levitate a basin of water in the other.
Draco felt a strange wave of pride
seeing how adept she had become at
magic. He watched silently as she
quickly cleaned Theo's wounds, using a
Ferula to bind his sprained ankle and,
with her strictest voice, ordered him to
drink some blood-replenishing potions.
Theo grumbled a lot, but Hermione had a
knack of making him listen to her, and
she was soon easing him back onto the
sofa, using it as a makeshift bed for him.
Draco made sure to smirk every time
Theo shot a scowl his way, because he'd
known Theo for long enough to tell that
his friend secretly enjoyed being fussed
over.
Leaving Hermione to tuck Theo in with a
spare blanket, Draco headed into the
kitchen to boil a fresh pot of tea. He
hunched over the stove for awhile, using
the small window of silence to just let
his mind race. There were so many
things that cluttered his mind lately -
which was about the worst thing that
could happen to a skilled Occlumens
like him. It was a good thing that he
wasn't by the Dark Lord's side - he was
certain that with the turbulence of
emotions and thoughts within him, the
Dark Lord would be able to navigate
through his mind in a split second.
But there were just too many things to
think about, too many things happening
all at once. There was his mother, of
course - he'd initially thought that he'd
completely gotten over her death. But
viewing the phial Hermione had given
him made him realise that his grieving
period was not yet over - it had never
been over. He missed his mother more
than ever, and the fissures of his heart
had not quite glued themselves back
together yet.
Then there was 17-65, which was
gradually finding its place in the Order -
but he knew for a fact that joining the
bloody Order was completely out of the
question. The four Slytherins just didn't
belong; they never would, because they
were not above using any of the
Unforgivables if the situation called for
it. Clearly, their ideals were vastly
different.
When it came to Hermione, it was
another matter altogether. Slowly but
surely, Hermione Granger was finding
her way back to the person she used to
be; although she'd made it explicitly
clear to all the Slytherins on multiple
occasions that she was going nowhere.
Pansy had secretly confided in Draco
that even if Hermione regained back all
her memories and regained the same
aptitude she had in magic, Hermione
would never be exactly the same way
she once was. Something had shifted in
all of them because of the war, and
they'd all lost a bit of their old selves
over the three years.
Hermione no longer seemed as quick to
judge, but a part of him often wondered
if she had the same strict moral compass
that she'd always upheld during her
Hogwarts years. There was always still
that lingering unease he felt whenever he
thought about how much she didn't know,
and how much she'd hate him if she did.
Draco had a strong sense of self-
preservation and, naturally, feared many
things, but Hermione hating him and
leaving him had quickly become one of
his greatest fears. And if -
"Draco?" He immediately wrenched
himself from the labyrinth of his thoughts
when he heard Hermione's voice. She
was heading into the kitchen, her
forehead furrowed in faint concern as
she studied him. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, just - " he waved his hand in a
dismissive gesture. " - thinking."
"The kettle's boiling."
"Right."
He hadn't even noticed, and he willingly
stepped aside when she eased him away,
reaching over to turn off the fire. She
surprised him with a teasing nudge, her
eyes sparkling in good humour. "Just
because you're smart doesn't mean you
have to keep thinking all the time."
He smirked at her offhanded
compliment. "You think I'm smart?"
"Draco, when have I ever thought
otherwise?"
"But in Hogwarts - "
"I thought you were insufferable,"
Hermione returned easily, grinning when
he narrowed his eyes at her before
turning back around to focus on making
the tea. "But I've always thought that you
were clever. I just didn't tell you that
because I didn't think you needed an ego
boost."
"And you think I need one now?"
"You think far less of yourself now than
you did before, don't you?" She pointed
out simply. And when he didn't reply,
she turned to smile at him softly. "That's
why you have me to remind you."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When Draco saw Ginny in the living

room the next morning, he couldn't help
but regard her with suspicion. The
redhead had been more than difficult to
handle the day before, and he hardly
wanted her to start screaming her head
off again.
Andromeda was fixing Ginny's wounds
as the two talked in hushed tones, but the
moment Andromeda saw Draco hovering
by the stairs, she pulled away and
smiled warmly at him. "Morning,
Draco."
Draco mumbled an arbitrary greeting in
reply. He'd never been a morning
person. So when Ginny flashed him a
blindingly bright smile, he almost fell
over in shock. "Hello, Malfoy."
"What the fuck - "
"Language!"
Draco shot his aunt a sardonic look.
"Teddy's not here, 'Dromeda."
"Oh," Andromeda looked almost
sheepish as she cast a quick glance
around the room before realising that
Teddy was outside in the garden with
Grus. "Well, play nice, Draco. And let
me take this," she plucked the wand
neatly from his grasp as she passed him
on the way to the kitchen. "Just in case."
She left the two of them in the living
room. Ginny nodded at him rather
amicably and gestured to the empty
armchair opposite her. "Take a seat,
Malfoy."
"Stop being so fucking nice to a Malfoy,
Weaselette, it doesn't suit you," Draco
said, deciding that the blunt approach
was possibly the best way to deal with
her. Honestly, he didn't know what the
redheaded witch had up her sleeve, but
judging by the way she was staring up at
him with blatant curiosity, he knew that
the quicker she was out, the better.
"Well, I figured I'd be a little more
tolerant this time - I mean, you did save
my life, after all."
"Oh, so that's what I was trying to do,"
Draco deadpanned. "I could've sworn I
was trying to kill you."
"I wouldn't put it past you, Malfoy. We
all know what a liability you are," she
added, with a challenging glint in her
eye. But then she offered a
reconciliatory smile. "Verbal sparring
aside, I just wanted to thank you for what
you did yesterday. I was - " she paused,
her smile wavering as a glimpse of a
shadow crossed her face, " - almost
going to give up. Almost."
Draco felt thoroughly uncomfortable
with the gratitude laced in Ginny's voice,
and he instinctively felt the need to snipe
back with some form of retort. Which he
did. "Less than three weeks of torturing
and already on the brink of death?" He
raised an eyebrow. "What about that
tenacity you Gryffindors speak so highly
of?"
She rolled her eyes. "Regardless, I'd
still like to thank you."
Draco simply gave her a dismissive nod
in return and settled down in the
armchair. Then there was a brief pause,
which Ginny soon broke after mere
seconds.
"So, is it true?" Draco's eyes drifted to
her and she shrugged. "About you and
three other Death-Eaters defecting and
taking care of Hermione. Andromeda
told me that the four of you have nothing
but good intentions, but I'd much rather
like you to explain it to me."
"Why?"
"I might believe you if I heard it with my
own ears."
"We're not here for you to believe,"
Draco shot back smoothly, feeling rather
aggravated by her words now. "We're
not here to fucking prove ourselves to
the bloody Order. Yes - we've defected;
and yes - Granger's one of us now. Make
of that what you will."
Ginny calmly inspected her fingernails
before looking back up at him. "You
risked your lives on a mission
McGonagall set for you. Sounds a lot
like proving to me."
"You're just as insipid as your brother,"
Draco sounded almost bored now. "We'd
be proving ourselves to the bloody
Order if we tried to be good people. But
we're bloody not - the four of us would
very willingly use any of the
Unforgivables if the situation called for
it. I don't think McGonagall would be
particularly pleased if she knew about
how many Ministry members died just
so you could be saved yesterday."
"The Unforgivables," Ginny repeated,
her eyes almost lit with a strange sort of
intrigue. "Really? So you weren't joking
when you told my brother that you'd kill
him if necessary?"
"I'd kill any of the Weasel family if the
situation called for it - including and
especially the Weasel himself," he
offered graciously, a smirk curving on
his lips when a flicker of doubt flashed
on Ginny's face.
"You wouldn't."
Draco almost rolled his eyes at her
optimism. Stupid Gryffindors and their
wishful thinking that everyone was
bloody good. "Okay, Weaselette, I'll
spell it out for you," he said flatly,
leaning forward and bracing his elbows
on his knees. "You see a member of the
Order in one of the Order's old bases.
He's sneaking around, and then you see
him slip into saint Potter's room and
leave with the Cloak of Invisibility - "
Ginny's eyes widened and she opened
her mouth to speak, but Draco raised a
hand to cut her off before she could.
" - so you corner him at the stairwell and
realise that he's working for one of the
Death-Eaters. If you send him back to the
Dark Lord's army, he's going to rat about
having being found out. If you erase his
memories, you know that he's still going
to have to be a part of the Dark Lord's
army with that Dark Mark on his arm.
Either way - he's still a member of the
Order turned rogue. So what do you
do?"
Ginny was silent, but he could see the
cogs whirring in her head and knew that
she was actually, finally, internalising
what he had to say.
"You kill him," Draco finished simply
and leaned back. "I'm not asking you to
use an Avada. I'm just saying that you
have to understand why we do it.
Granger does."
Ginny studied her fingers intently for a
long moment before dragging a deep
breath and looking up at him. "So,
hypothetically," she started hesitantly, "if
one were to - say, join your team...how
would one go about it?"
Draco was so stunned that he half
thought he'd misheard. "What?"
She shrugged. "I'm saying - I'd like to
help with future missions. George told
me how you planned it and I have to say
that I'm pretty impressed that seven of
you managed to pull this off so
effectively. The Order's always been
about full-frontal battles, but You-Know-
Who's army's far too huge for us
succeed."
"So you want to help us?" Draco
repeated, still sounding rather
disbelieving. Ginny Weasley actually
wanted to join them? Merlin, he'd give
anything to see Potter's and the Weasel's
face right now.
"Why not? Besides - when it comes to
the killing curse, I don't think I'm entirely
against the use of it," she grinned when
Draco's eyebrows rose. "I think there are
more painful ways to go, and the Avada's
possibly the quickest and least painful of
all, don't you think?"
Draco couldn't agree more. If he had to
pick a way to go, it had to be by an
Avada.
He was about to speak when a familiar
voice interrupted his thoughts and
momentarily distracted him from the
conversation. Hermione was awake and
she had wandered into the kitchen to
greet Andromeda. Draco stared at
Hermione's bushy mane and oversized
shirt (it was his) for a moment before
turning back to Ginny, who was looking
far more elated now at the sight of her
old friend.
Lowering his voice, Draco spoke to
Ginny before Hermione entered the
living room. "How much has 'Dromeda
told you about Hermione?"
A surprised frown slipped onto Ginny's
face, but there was a glimmer of
understanding in her eyes. "A brief
breakdown. George has told me some
things too. I'll be tactful, don't worry."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Just hold
yourself back from being the over-
affectionate Gryffindor and you'll be
fine."
"What is it with you and your hatred for
Gryffindors?"
"I don't have a hatred for them - but
Slytherins are better than Gryffindors,
the same way pure-bloods are better
than half-bloods or muggle-borns. It's a
superiority complex."
"Ah, so you admit that it's a complex and
not the truth," said Hermione, as she
sauntered into the living room. She didn't
seem to notice Ginny and headed straight
towards Draco, settling down on the arm
of his chair and handing a cup of coffee
to him.
"I'm not a complete prick, Granger, I can
see where I went wrong," Draco
mumbled into his coffee mug.
"Yes, that's definitely - " and Hermione
abruptly trailed off as she suddenly
noticed the redhead in the room. Her
eyes widened. "Oh, hello, Ginny."
Ginny didn't miss the way Hermione's
hand slid down to grasp Draco's arm.
Keeping her surprise at bay, Ginny
smiled back at her old friend.
"Hermione. It's great to see you again."
Draco felt almost awkward in the
presence of Hermione and Ginny, the
latter of whom was clearly one of
Hermione's oldest and closest friends.
He made to get up, but Hermione
tightened her grip on him and shot him a
desperate look, so his escaping plans
immediately went out the window. So he
simply made room in the chair and tried
to ignore the flush heat of her body as
she happily curled up beside him to talk
to Ginny. Midway through, Hermione
finished her portion of coffee and he
automatically passed his mug to her.
Keeping a half-hearted attention on the
conversation, he summoned the
Marauder's Map that George had left
with them the day before and studied it.
Even though George had told him that it
had been an invention of saint Potter's
father, Draco couldn't help but regard the
Map with begrudging respect. It was
clever, and he wondered if it could be
replicated somewhere else.
Malfoy Manor, for instance, as well as
the rest of the Dark Lord's bases. That
way he could know where the Death-
Eaters were at any point of time.
Yes - that sounded like a good idea, and
he stored that as something he'd run by
with the rest of 17-65. He was certain
that they could come up with a way to
track the Dark Lord's army - including
and especially the Peverells.
Hermione's conversation with Ginny
soon came to an end - he couldn't help
but realise that it had been a more or
less one-sided conversation with tense
silences that Ginny had tried desperately
to fill - and he watched as Hermione
excused herself the moment Theo came
downstairs, yawning in his usual loud,
obnoxious fashion.
The other two Slytherins soon joined
Theo, Hermione and Andromeda in the
kitchen, but Draco lingered behind to
focus on Alecto and Amycus Carrow's
footsteps for awhile longer. After
shoving aside the flare of anger when he
thought about what they'd done to
Hermione, he stored the Map away and
looked down at Ginny, who was
currently reading a random book about
Herbology.
"Are you coming for breakfast?"
Ginny shook her head. "In a bit." He
turned to leave but she waved out a hand
to stop him, gesturing for him to take a
seat and setting the book down beside
her.
"So, Malfoy, tell me," she began and he
absolutely loathed the gleam in her eye.
"How long have you been in love with
Hermione Granger?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"This is getting ridiculous," Theo said in

the kitchen, as he scowled at the sight of
Ginny in the living room talking to
Draco. "Since when did this place
become a safe-house for the Weasleys?"
"Aw, Theo," Pansy cooed, in a dramatic
fashion, "you shouldn't say that about the
Weasleys. After all, they're Gryffindors
just like you, and Gryffindors are
supposed to have very big, welcoming
hearts."
Theo cast a Silencing charm on her in
response, which she removed with a
flick of her wrist.
"Well, Theo's right - it is rather
unnerving," agreed Blaise, settling down
in the chair next to Pansy. He looked at
Hermione opposite him, who seemed
rather rattled after her conversation with
Ginny. "Red, did she say anything out of
line to you?"
Andromeda chuckled as she leaned over
to refill their mugs of coffee. "It's Ginny.
I think she'd know her boundaries."
"I could hex her if she did," Theo
quickly offered, "hexing Weasleys has
got to be my favourite pastime."
Pansy let out an inelegant snort. "Please.
You lost to the Weasel once at duelling.
But if the she-Weasel did say anything
out of line, I'd be more than happy to set
things straight for you, Red," she added,
smiling warmly at Hermione, who
simply shrugged.
"She didn't say anything out of line,"
Hermione explained, a faint smile
glossing her lips in response to Pansy's
words. "She just talked quite a bit about
Harry and Ron, kind of like the way
Luna used to when she first stayed with
us, and I felt a little overwhelmed."
Theo laughed and stole a slice of bacon
from Hermione, who simply smacked the
back of his hand half-heartedly but let
him have it. "Hey, now you know the
way Draco and I used to feel! All
everyone ever talked about back at
Hogwarts was the three of you. Well,
mostly Potter, but everyone adored the
three of you."
"Is that why Draco was such a prat?"
Hermione laughed. "Because he was
jealous?"
"Oh - we all were," Blaise admitted.
"It's one thing to have a deadlock rivalry
with Gryffindor; another thing altogether
to have the other two houses support
Gryffindor at every quidditch match or
every other competition."
"It was a shame, really," a sudden voice
made them all whirl around in surprise,
their mouths falling open as they saw
Luna entering the kitchen with a breezy
smile on her face. "I mean, it's not like
the Slytherins could help which house
they were sorted into. A lot of people
thought Slytherins were bad just because
all the worst people came from that
house. But there're plenty of wonderful
people from Slytherin too."
"Merlin, Luna!" Theo shook his head in
disbelief. "Do you just apparate into any
house you bloody fancy? Although, I do
think your statement's valid. You're
clearly one of the enlightened," he
added, with a nod of approval.
Andromeda smiled at the blonde haired
witch and immediately sat her down at
the table. "I have Luna come over often
to give me updates about the Order."
"Yes, but this early in the morning? And
didn't she just update you about the
Order yesterday?" Pansy smirked at
Luna. "Lovegood, if I didn't know better,
I'd say you're getting rather fond of the
lot of us."
"Oh, I am," Luna replied matter-of-
factly, staring round the kitchen with a
placid air about her. "I quite like this
place. Feels like a proper home."
The others smiled at her and Andromeda
laid a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"You're quite welcome to stay here,
Luna," the older woman offered
graciously, "I have several other rooms
and I can clear out one of them for you.
Perhaps the one on the second floor. I
don't think Hermione's using that much."
Hermione promptly blushed at the
knowing look on Andromeda's face. "I
do use it," she insisted weakly, amidst
the chuckles of the other Slytherins. The
truth was, she hardly found any use of it,
because going to sleep next to Draco had
become a nightly routine for her. With
him, the nightmares were kept at bay.
With him, she felt safe.
"Sure you do, Red," Blaise grinned.
"Sure you do."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was seldom ever caught off

guard, but this was definitely one of
those rare few times. He stared at Ginny
for five full seconds, which was
sufficient time for her lips to curve in a
wicked smile.
"You so are!" She all but exclaimed, and
he hurriedly cast a wandless muffling
charm on the living room. "I kind of
guessed when Andromeda said that
'Mione had been staying with you for
months - months! - and I thought I saw a
glimpse of something earlier on when
you two were seated in that chair, but
now it's so obvious!"
"Calm yourself down before you get a
fucking aneurysm," Draco retorted flatly,
his frown deepening when she began to
chuckle.
"I just love how you're not denying it,
Malfoy." Ginny's eyes twinkled. "So?
Does she know?" When Draco didn't
answer, she stopped laughing and
studied him intently. "You can trust me,
you know?"
"I highly doubt that."
"Okay, what would you have me do to
prove that I can be trusted?"
"I don't need you to do anything," Draco
tossed back mildly. "I can easily
Obliviate the last thirty seconds of our
conversation."
"Touché. But what's really the problem,
Malfoy? If you like her - and she
obviously likes you - what's to stop you
from telling her?" When Draco faltered,
she added delicately, "if you're worried
about my brother, you shouldn't be."
Draco looked up sharply at that. "The
Weasel's not in love with her?"
"No." She didn't miss the glimmer of
relief in his eyes. "I mean, yes, but that
was three years ago. As far as I know,
they fancied each other for some years,
and shared one boring lip-lock sometime
during the final battle. And right after
that, well," a flicker of sadness slipped
onto Ginny's face for a brief moment.
"You know what happened. We all
thought Hermione had died. My brother
spent months getting over her death and
months after that trying to forget about
her. And he's dated after that too,
occasionally. He'll be happy to see
'Mione, of course, but I highly doubt he'd
feel anything other than relief that she's
alive and well."
When Draco didn't answer, Ginny sighed
and leaned forward, an unusually serious
expression on her face.
"I know it's a war, Malfoy, and some
things are too complicated to define at a
time like this. But my brother spent
seven years chasing the shadow of
Hermione Granger before he finally
caught up with her - and even then, only
briefly. You don't want to have the same
thing happen to you, trust me."
Draco thought that the Weasel was just
one minor obstacle, just something that
was completely overshadowed by all the
other things that scared - no, terrified -
him. But Ginny had phrased things so
eloquently and simply that the more he
thought about it, the more her words
made sense.
Swallowing back a troubled sigh, he
climbed to his feet. Ginny watched him
with startled eyes. "Where're you
going?"
"Breakfast."
"Sweet. Bring me some pancakes."
"Get your own bloody breakfast," came
Draco's scathing retort as he strode out
of the living room.
Ginny shook her head and grinned,
propping her feet up on the coffee table
as she picked up the book again. Three
years had passed, but some things just
never changed.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It turned out that Luna Lovegood did end

up moving in.
Hermione was more than amused to see
the blonde witch apparating back into
the house later that day with several
bags in tow, along with a few other
fascinating objects. She helped her
friend bring the bags up to the empty
room while Pansy and Blaise were
discussing the Marauder's Map with
Draco in his room.
Theo, who had nosied his way into the
empty room, was more than appalled
when Luna took out a lion hat, followed
by an eagle hat. "You are not allowed to
wear that," he declared, tossing both hats
aside with a grimace. Hermione barely
caught them and set them neatly down on
the dresser. "I've seen you parade around
with the lion one when Gryffindor
played Slytherin at quidditch matches."
Before Luna could argue, Theo had
transfigured a clean towel into a hat in
the shape of a snake, before enchanting it
so that it'd hiss whenever one tapped
their wand to it. Hermione was very
impressed. It seemed that a lot of the
spells Theo used were simply for
amusement's sake, but they were all
incredibly fun.
"Now this," Theo said, setting the snake
hat on Luna's head, "you can wear this.
At all times. Never take it off."
"That's pretty neat," Luna commented,
looking extremely pleased with the new
hat, patting it gently with her fingertips.
"Could you make a badger one for
Hufflepuff house too? Then I'd have all
four houses to match."
Theo sputtered, the look on his face so
full of horror and disgust that Hermione
began to laugh helplessly. "Huffle - for
Salazar's sake, Lovegood, I might have
fucking defected, but I've not entirely
lost my mind!" He stormed out of the
room, grumbling something about how
the nickname Loony Lovegood was
entirely apt in situations such as these.
Hermoine let out a soft chuckle before
reaching over to pull more clothes out of
Luna's bag. "Don't mind him, Luna.
Theo'll probably come back with a
badger hat later, I'm sure of it."
And if he wasn't, Hermione had already
planned on badgering him until he did.
And if that still didn't work, she knew
that Draco or any of the other Slytherins
would be more than happy to make Luna
one. Okay, so maybe Draco would be
less than happy, but Hermione had no
doubt he'd do it if she asked.
Luna smiled and nodded. She continued
to pack before glancing over at
Hermione. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Luna."
"You seem very comfortable with Draco
and the others," Luna pointed out, in her
usual blunt honesty. "Do you ever think
you'll be the same way around Ginny and
Neville and the rest of the Order?"
Hermione paused to consider Luna's
question seriously. "I do believe I will,"
she said at last, with an optimistic smile.
"It'll just take time, I suppose. I'm a lot
more comfortable with you now than I
was some weeks ago, aren't I?"
"Yes, that's true." Luna pulled out five
picture frames from her bag, and upon a
closer inspection, Hermione realised
those were painted portraits of herself,
Neville, Ginny, Harry and Ron. Luna
gazed at the pictures, the expression on
her face almost wistful. "Some things
will never be the same again, will they?"
"Just the same way Crookshanks will
never be alive again," Hermione mused,
a trace of sadness in her voice as she
reached for one of the photo frames - the
one of Harry - and hung it up on the
wall.
She was just about to say something
comforting to Luna when the doorbell
rang. Hermione smiled briefly at Luna
before hurrying down the stairs. The
knock on the door didn't cease and no
one else seemed to know that there was
someone outside. She wasn't surprised.
Andromeda was in her room with Teddy
and Grus, while the Slytherins were in
Draco's room on the third floor. The
sitting room where Ginny was napping
in probably had a silencing charm
placed on it.
"Hold on!" Hermione called, rushing
across the living room and pulling the
door open. "Sorry for the delay, we're -
"
And then she froze.
Because standing right in front of her
was none other than Harry Potter, the
Boy who Lived, but better known as her
best friend.
35 | expecto

35
expectopatr onum
Conjures a spirit guardian.

To say that Hermione was shocked

would've been a huge understatement.
She wasn't just shocked. She felt like her
entire body had gone rigid and she could
hardly breathe. For a long time, she'd
thought of what it would be like to meet
Harry Potter, but nothing in her
imagination was tantamount to the
unexpectedness of the situation. The look
of astonishment on Harry's face mirrored
hers, and his mouth was opened but he
couldn't seem to find the right words to
say.
So Hermione said it for him.
"Hello, Harry."
Harry pushed his glasses further up the
bridge of his nose, still staring at her in
disbelief. "I - I can't believe it's you,
'Mione."
She couldn't believe it was him either.
Smiling faintly, she lifted a hand for him
to shake. "Well, it's nice to see you
again."
Harry's eyes widened even further.
"What - I mean, what are you - "
"Your eloquence is truly astounding,
Potter," said a familiar voice behind
them, and Hermione visibly exhaled in
relief, falling several steps back from
Harry. Draco strode towards the door
with all the calmness in the world and
smirked at his old-nemesis. "Do come
in, Potter, while I'm still cordial. If you
stand outside for a few more seconds I
might just shut the door in your face."
That seemed to snap Harry to attention,
and he shot Draco a brief look of
annoyance before stepping into the
house. He glanced round, surprise
registering on his face when he saw the
three other Slytherins standing behind
Hermione. "Is - uh, is Ginny here?"
Hermione was just glad to find a
window of opportunity to escape the
room, where the air was more
breathable. "Oh, right, I'll get her."
"Hermione - "
But she dashed into the sitting room
before Harry could say another word,
leaving him with three other hostile
people who stared at him with matching
looks of suspicion. Except Draco - who
was just surveying him with a general
air of bored amusement.
"You should learn how to shut your
mouth, Potter," he drawled, moving to
settle down on the sofa. "Makes you
look even more unattractive than you
already are."
"Three years and you're still such a
prick," Harry rolled his eyes, but
something about his demeanour was
strange, almost as though he were
entirely uncomfortable with the situation.
Draco raised his eyebrows at the half-
hearted jeer. Surely, saint Potter
could've come up with something better
than that. "Well, you know me," he said,
in his usual arrogant fashion. Something
about being the presence of either Potter
or the Weasel always brought that out in
him. "Being a prick's how I get by."
Harry didn't respond. Draco frowned
slightly and turned to look at his friends,
whose matching looks of confusion all
mirrored his. He was just about to clear
the silence with a scathing remark -
again, he couldn't help it, Potter always
did bring out the asinine in him - when
Ginny and Hermione reappeared by the
doorway.
"Harry?" Ginny seemed overjoyed to see
him, and rushed over despite the slight
wobbliness of her legs. She was a blur
of red-hair and freckles as she launched
herself into his arms. "I'm so glad to see
you here! I didn't think you'd leave the
house."
Harry seemed relieved to see her and
dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.
"After George told me about the rescue
mission, I had to see you. Your parents
may drop by awhile later."
"Fucking great," Theo deadpanned,
causing Ginny to roll her eyes at him. "Is
this place going to be a congregational
centre for all sorts of Gryffindor
reunions? I mean, if I - "
But his voice was cut off abruptly when
Blaise shot a Silencing charm at him.
Harry stared at the Slytherins oddly for a
moment before his gaze trailed back to
Hermione, who was standing close to
Draco, her fingers intertwined with his.
His eyes widened, but he tactfully chose
not to bring it up. "George said that
'Mione was here too," Harry said
instead, mostly to Ginny. "Had to see for
myself if it was true."
"You didn't know?" This question came
from Pansy, who was regarding him with
the usual Slytherin suspicion, but her
tone was unexpectedly cordial. "Didn't
anyone tell you that Red - sorry,
Hermione was back?"
Harry promptly flushed. And Draco,
despite his natural hatred for Potter,
threw a warning glance at his three
friends. There was something incredibly
different about Harry, and Draco was
wondering if there was more than what
met the eye. But more than anything, he
wanted to know how Harry had lost
Hermione three years ago.
Deciding to get to the bottom of this, he
nudged Hermione softly. "Granger, stay
with Parkinson for a moment," he told
her, and she nodded in relief, quickly
detaching herself from his side and
practically rushing over to the
Slytherins. Draco waved his friends
away and took a bold step forward.
"Potter, I need a word with you. Alone."
Harry looked stunned but he quickly
recovered. "Alright."
"Come on, guys," Blaise said, mindfully
removing his friends and himself from
the living room. Both he and Pansy
seemed reluctant to leave but Theo was
more than happy to, wrapping a lazy arm
around Hermione's shoulder and leading
her up the stairs.
"Now Potter's in the house too," Draco
heard Theo grumble and almost smirked
at the annoyance in his friend's tone.
"Let's get out of here. You know, to
climb to the third floor and jump out the
window."
They disappeared out of sight, and
Draco lifted his hand to cast wandless
Silencing charms on the room. Then he
jerked his head briefly in the direction of
the sofa, gesturing for Ginny and Harry
to take a seat. They sat, and he decided
that dealing with the matter in the most
blunt, honest fashion was for the best.
So he leaned forward, bracing his arms
on his elbows. "Potter, there's something
I've been meaning to ask you, much as I
don't like the sight of your face," he
couldn't help but add, and wasn't
surprised to see the eye-roll that Ginny
gave him.
Harry, on the other hand, was more than
calm about it, which made him feel like
an immature prat. "You're not a sight for
sore eyes either, Malfoy, but do go on."
Draco almost smirked. He never did like
Potter, but this reminded him of old
times. "I want to know how you manage
to lose Granger three years ago," he said
flatly, ignoring the way both Harry and
Ginny stiffened. "Granger told me she
doesn't remember a thing about that day,
and I want to know why."
There was a silence as Harry and Ginny
exchanged shocked glances. The
redheaded witch was the first to speak.
"She doesn't remember how she was
captured?"
Draco shook his head slowly, regarding
the two with suspicious intent. Were they
lying, or were they not? He didn't know
either of them well enough, and his
fingers were positively itching to use
Legilimency.
With a deep, resigned sigh, Harry
glanced away before looking back at
Draco again. "Three years ago, you
know how I - " he visibly swallowed;
looking so distraught that Draco almost
regretted asking him. Almost. " - I lost to
the Dark Lord. McGonagall saw that I
was about to lose, and the shield she
cast on me barely kept me alive."
Draco remembered it perfectly. He
hadn't been close enough to see the final
showdown, but he'd seen it from the
distance, hiding behind a broken pillar
and hating himself for not being able to
do a thing about it. He remembered
seeing a giant charge into the foray to
take the brunt of the killing curse,
remembered McGonagall cast her shield
- he'd never seen a more powerful one
before. He remembered the gasps from
the Order as Harry was thrown back
from the force of the killing curse. He
remembered the sheer look of triumph on
the Dark Lord's face as he advanced
towards Harry.
"After that, Shacklebolt picked me up
and told me to run," Harry continued, his
eyes downcast and voice unsteady. "For
some reason, none of us could apparate
out of there - "
"Anti-apparition wards," Draco cut in,
feeling the need to explain. "Bellatrix
put them there. She also used a weather
charm to hide the Dementors."
"Yeah, we kind of figured. Anyway, the
Order just dispersed. I found my broom
and got on it. Ron was right behind me,
and so was Ginny. But Hermione
couldn't find her broom so I went back to
the courtyard and pulled her onto mine.
We'd almost got out - we were so close,
way past the towers, when a spell came
out of nowhere and knocked her right off
the broom."
Draco's mind was reeling. So this was
how Harry Potter lost Hermione
Granger. He was finally learning the
truth at last. Harry wasn't lying either;
which could only mean one thing:
Someone else had used Obliviate on
Hermione Granger before she
disappeared.
"She fell - " Harry's voice caught, and
Ginny reached over to rub soothing
circles on his back. " - fifty-feet from the
sky, and I couldn't even catch her in
time."
"We all thought she died from the fall,"
Ginny said softly, brushing an errant tear
away from her eyes. "We really did. And
the Death-Eaters were chasing us so we
had to get out of there."
"A bunch of us searched for her
afterwards. But with the death-eaters
patrolling almost everywhere, there
wasn't much headway we could make of
it. The Order was low on resources and
people and they couldn't help us, so after
months, we just expected the worst."
And this was the truth. A part of Draco
felt almost relieved that Hermione's
friends had searched for her; he knew
that she was more than distraught
because she thought they hadn't, and
Potter's revelation now put things in
perspective.
But he was still furious with the rest of
the Order for giving up on Hermione so
quickly. So she fell out of the sky. So you
couldn't find her. But you didn't give up
because she was Hermione Granger; she
was one in a million, intelligent and kind
and flawed and perfect all at once, and
you didn't give up on her because she
was worth losing everything for.
Nevertheless, a more rational side of
him knew that that alone was a
hypocritical thought. Draco knew that,
for the most part of his life at Hogwarts,
he would've chosen the same route. Save
your own skin because in a war, it was
kill or be killed, and you let the dead
bury the dead. There was no time to
grieve or to mourn because it was a war
and you fought to survive, even if it
meant losing your humanity in the
process.
So Draco wisely kept his mouth shut and
accepted their explanation. And when
Harry asked if he could have a moment
with Hermione alone, Draco reluctantly
agreed. Harry soon headed upstairs,
leaving him alone with Ginny, and Draco
cast another round of muffling charms on
the room just in case.
Then he turned to Ginny. "So what's
wrong with Potter?" He asked candidly.
He didn't have to elaborate for her to
know what he meant. With a lengthy
sigh, she shifted and tucked her feet
under her. "He's just given up."
"Given up?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"What about all those for-the-side-of-
good bullshit he's always fighting for?"
"I don't know. I think there comes a time
when you keep losing until you're just
tired and scared, and Harry's both. Mind
you - I still think he's the Chosen One
and that he still has a higher chance of
winning the war than Neville, but he's
just scared to fight another losing battle.
He's already lost so much."
Haven't we all? Draco thought
scathingly.
But he bit back his words and leaned
back against his chair, feeling his heart
clench painfully as he pictured
Hermione Granger falling fifty feet from
the sky, with a silent scream lodged in
her throat and a Death-Eater catching her
at the last second to whisk her away into
a three-year long captivity.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"You think they've killed each other

yet?"
Everyone in the room turned to look at
Theo, who had voiced the question.
They had all trooped upstairs after
Draco had dismissed them and had
sought refuge in Luna's room, helping the
blonde witch unpack her things and
decorate the room.
Hermione was more than adept at using
Colovaria to change the colours of
Luna's walls to a light pale blue, and
she'd been changing the colours of the
furniture to make a matching set. She
thought that decorating certainly became
a lot more fun with the help of magic.
Theo, on the other hand, had been
ruining Hermione's efforts by displaying
his Slytherin pride and changing all the
blues to different shades of green.
They'd finally agreed on a mix of blues
and greens in the room, much to Luna's
amusement.
Blaise rolled his eyes at Theo's
question. "Why would Draco kill
Potter?" He asked, as he stacked Luna's
books onto a shelf, arranging them neatly
by alphabetical order.
"Um, because it's Potter?" Theo counted
off his fingers, "and Potter's face is
repulsive? And Potter's personality is
repulsive? And Potter's - "
"Theo," Hermione's reproving voice
broke him off mid-rant. She narrowed
her eyes at him, tapping the pillowcase
firmly with her wand. "I just changed
this to blue. Did you change it back to
green?"
He looked almost sheepish. "...no?"
Hermione glared at him, before tapping
the pillowcase twice and murmuring a
quick incantation under her breath to
change it back to blue. "Seven green,
seven blue, the rest stays the same. You
promised, Theodore Nott."
"Alright, alright," he grumbled,
collapsing down onto the carpet before
shooting Hermione a quizzical look. "I
thought you'd be pissing on my parade
for being an arse about Potter."
"Well, Harry's my friend," she began,
rather thoughtfully, "but I know that
you've never been able to get along with
him. So long as you don't try to change
my mind about him, I think I can live
with your endless grumblings about
random Gryffindors and such."
"You hear that, Theo?" Pansy shot her
friend a wicked smirk. "Red thinks
you're being a whiny little git. She just
said it in a nicer way."
Hermione grinned at Pansy before
shooting a wink at Theo.
"I have a question," said Luna, from her
post on the study table. She was
rearranging her jewellery, most of which
were odd-looking, excessively colourful
pieces. "Why is it Draco killing Harry?
Why wouldn't it be the other way
round?"
All three Slytherins stared at her with
matching appalled expressions. "Um,
because it's Draco," said Theo, as if that
were a sufficient explanation on its own.
"I don't understand."
"No, I mean it - it's Draco," Theo
dragged out his friend's name with a
sardonic look on his face. "You don't get
to kill Draco because he wouldn't let
you."
Blaise chuckled at the look of confusion
on Luna's face. "What Theo's trying to
say is, Draco's trained to become some
sort of superior Death-Eater over the
past three years. He was trained by
Snape - when Snape was still alive - and
his aunt Bellatrix, who's a top-notch
duellist. He defends just as well as he
attacks. I've even seen him protect the
Dark Lord on battlefields."
Luna frowned. "Why would Draco
protect You-Know-Who?" She asked,
curiously. "The war would end if You-
Know-Who got killed on the battlefield."
"Because You-Know-Who can't be
killed either," Hermione explained,
before anyone else could. "Trelawney's
prophecy about the Chosen One means
that only one particular person - Harry
or Neville - gets to kill him. A lot of
people have tried to kill him over the
past three years. It's never worked, not
even when a rogue Death-Eater slipped
him some poison once."
Her words were met with a surprised
silence and she flushed when she noticed
the three Slytherins staring at her.
"What?" Her eyebrows knit together and
she bit her lip defensively. "Draco told
me."
"Yeah, well, he never told me," Pansy
said slyly, "or any of us."
Theo and Blaise nodded in agreement,
all gleaming eyes and teasing smiles that
Hermione couldn't help but respond to
with a shy grin of her own. But before
she could say anything else, a sudden
movement by the doorway made her
look up, her eyes widening when she
saw who it was.
"Oh, hello, Harry."
The shift in the atmosphere was almost
palpable, the three Slytherins looked
uncomfortable and only Luna smiled
brightly at Harry, her calm demeanour
completely unperturbed.
Harry fidgeted awkwardly before giving
a quick nod of acknowledgement to
Luna. But his attention was focused on
Hermione. "Hey. I was wondering if I
could speak to you in private for a
moment."
"Of course." Hermione pushed herself
off Luna's bed, heading towards Harry
with a smile that was more confident
than she felt. "Let's go into Theo's
room."
"No!" Theo sounded so horrified that
Hermione badly wanted to laugh. Even
Harry's lips were twitching in
amusement as they headed out of the
room. "Red, don't you fucking dare bring
- ow!"
He was cut off with a loud thumping
sound, and Hermione presumed it meant
that either Blaise or Pansy had put him in
place. A moment later, Pansy stuck her
head out to smile at them cheerily. "You
can use ours. Blaise and I won't mind."
"Thanks, Pansy." Hermione smiled at her
friend and led Harry into the correct
room, closing the door firmly behind
them. "Sorry about Theo," she said,
sitting on the bed with her legs crossed.
Harry sat opposite her, maintaining a fair
distance between them, which she was
grateful for. "He's nice once you get to
know him."
"I doubt it," Harry chuckled softly, but
his laughter soon trailed off as an
awkward silence descended upon them.
"Listen, Hermione, I know it's been
awhile and I just - I wanted to do some
catching up. I've missed you, honestly."
"I've missed you too," Hermione said
truthfully, her lips curving into a faint
smile at him. "Well - I miss what I can
remember of you, at least. I've forgotten
a lot since then, but I really didn't mean
to."
"No, it's fine, I understand," Harry
quickly assured her. "George filled me
in. And I know it'll take awhile for us to
get back on our old footing, but I'm
willing to try. No matter how long it
takes."
Relief rushed through Hermione and her
smile widened. She understood now
how Harry Potter had been such an
important part of her life. It didn't take
long for her to feel comfortable around
him and she automatically knew that he
was someone she could trust.
"Yes, of course," she readily replied.
"What would you like to know?"
"Well, what happened during the past
three years?" The expression on her face
didn't escape Harry's notice, and he
hastily backpedalled. "It's fine, you don't
have to tell me. We can talk about
something else."
"No," Hermione quickly said. "I do want
to tell you, it's just - " she took a deep
breath, reaching up to tuck a lock of her
hair behind her ear. " - you know how
some things are just so difficult to say?
This is one of them. I want to tell you,
but I just can't seem to find the right
words to say."
Except Draco, she suddenly thought.
Except Draco, he's the only one I'm
comfortable telling everything to. With
Draco, everything seemed easy to say,
because he'd been such a big part of the
war that she knew he'd understand better
than anyone else.
Well, if she couldn't say it out loud, there
were always other methods.
"I'll show you," she said instead. She
climbed off the bed and gestured for
Harry to follow her, smiling at the
confused look on his face. "Do you know
how to use a Pensieve?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco didn't hesitate to find Hermione

once Harry had left. He found her seated
on the ledge beside the Pensieve, a trace
of sadness in her eyes as she studied a
familiar-looking phial. Draco took one
look at it and realised it was the one that
held all of Hermione's memories of her
time in captivity, the same one that Pansy
had made when she first met the girl.
"Granger," he shut the door behind him,
casting wordless Silencing charms on
the room.
Hermione looked up immediately, relief
flickering on her face as she climbed to
her feet. She crossed the room quickly,
burying her face in his chest and
wrapping her arms around him tightly.
"Has he left?"
Draco knew exactly who she meant.
Potter had all but rushed down the stairs
several minutes ago, his face pale and
distraught. He hadn't even noticed Luna
or the rest of the Slytherins chatting
away in the living room, or the fact that
his girlfriend was laughing along with
them. He'd simply hurried out of the
house as though in a trance.
Ginny had immediately gone after him,
but Draco thought that the brunette witch
in the inventory might have had
something to do with Potter's mood. He
wasn't wrong. Hermione seemed a little
shaken, but far calmer than Potter had
been.
"Yes," Draco said simply in response to
her question. He shut his eyes briefly as
her fingers traced the planes on his back
lightly before she pulled away
fractionally, still keeping her arms
wound tightly around him.
Then she was looking up at him, the
same flicker of sadness crossing her face
again. "Do you think he left because I
upset him?"
Draco blinked at the unexpectedness of
her question. "Didn't Potter want to
know what happened?"
"Well, yes - but," Hermione let out a
lengthy sigh. "It's happened so many
times, Draco. Every time someone
learns about what happened to me, they
just pull back. They leave the room - or
the house - only to come back sometime
later looking at me with nothing but pity
in their eyes. It happened with Pansy,
and Blaise, and Theo, and now Harry. I
don't resent them for it, honestly, I don't.
It's just that I wish they wouldn't feel
sorry for me. I mean - I survived, didn't
I?"
"Granger - " Draco shut his eyes briefly,
trying to grapple the thoughts in his head.
Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes
and tightened his grip around her.
"Believe me when I say that I spent three
years looking for you, and you spent so
many nights telling me what happened to
you - but I've never, not once, felt
anything remotely like pity for you. I've
spent three years surviving a bloody war
and I've met countless of people and
heard countless of backstories and seen
countless of memories - but you're
braver and stronger than anyone I've
ever met."
Hermione was silent, her eyes downcast
for such a long time that he began to
wonder if he'd said something wrong.
And when she looked up at him, her eyes
glistening with unshed tears, he began to
panic.
"Granger - " he pulled away warily,
holding her at arm's length. "I didn't
mean to - "
"You didn't upset me, you beautiful
idiot," she laughed weakly, burrowing
her face against his chest again and
sniffling slightly. "What you said meant a
lot to me, Draco, thank you."
"If you're really grateful you'd Scourgify
my shirt when you're done snivelling
into it."
She laughed even harder, but still clung
close. And, after a moment, he relented
and tightened his grip around her,
memorising how it felt like to have
Hermione Granger in his arms.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was getting better at Patronus

Charms. She didn't know for sure, but
she could practically feel the magic
coursing through her veins and into the
wand each time she cast the spell. It was
stronger each time, sending a surge of
adrenaline through her.
During one of her lessons with Blaise,
curiosity got the better of her and she
asked him how he managed to cast a
Patronus when the rest of the Death-
Eaters couldn't. And when she learnt that
he'd been a rogue Death-Eater all along,
things suddenly made sense.
"So you intended to betray You-Know-
Who from the very beginning,"
Hermione clarified, pausing in the
middle of her spell to stare at Blaise in
surprise.
He nodded with satisfaction. "I thought
about fighting on the Order's side, but
back then, the Order was completely run
to the ground by the Dark Lord's army.
So I figured that if I became a Death-
Eater, there'd be a way for me to become
an informant for the Order."
Hermione felt rather awed as she looked
at him. "That was an incredibly brave
thing to do."
"Brave - and stupid," he added, with a
sheepish chuckle. "Within three days of
my initiation - Draco found out my plans
and he cornered me and told me to
abandon them altogether."
"Because he used Legilimency?"
"He used Legilimency on a lot of people
back then," Blaise grinned. And
Hermione couldn't help but wonder why
Draco never used Legilimency on her.
"Anyway, we started 17-65 after that,"
Blaise continued, a nostalgic smile
curving his face as he thought about the
past. "Draco discussed with me the
possibility of destroying the Dark Lord's
army in a more discreet, covert way, and
I was all for it. Then he got Pansy and
Theo to help. We all had different
reasons to do it - I wanted to end the
war, Theo and Pansy owed Draco their
lives in some way or other. And Draco -
"
" - wanted redemption," Hermione
finished, with a smile.
"Really, it's fascinating how well you
know - oh, hey, Draco!" Blaise smirked
when Draco sauntered over at that
moment and Hermione promptly flushed
red. Draco didn't seem to notice, and he
paused a short distance away from them,
raising his eyebrows curiously.
"Patronus charm?"
"Yeah," Blaise pulled Hermione to her
feet, showing her the motions for the
spell again. "You've almost got the hang
of it, Red. Just clear your mind and
focus."
Hermione shot a hesitant glance at
Draco, who was watching them calmly.
"There's a lot of pressure," she
murmured, because to have him staring
at her while she thought about him was
unnerving, to say the least.
"Come on, Granger, I thought you thrived
well under pressure," Draco said,
almost smugly, sounding very distinctly
like he did back during Hogwarts days.
"Now impress me."
"I don't have to impress you of all
people, Malfoy," she shot back, but the
challenging glint in his eyes made her
determined to try again. Taking a deep
breath, she concentrated hard on the
happiest thought she could possibly think
of - him.
"Expecto Patronum."
The magic surged stronger this time, and
she wasn't surprised to see a startling
white glow leave the wand. But this
time, instead of taking the shape of a
usual flimsy shield, the blinding light
morphed into a something completely
unexpected.
Hermione was so stunned that she could
hardly speak. She'd finally managed a
corporeal Patronus, and her mind was
reeling with aftermath of her shock. The
moment she lost focus, the charm
vanished in a burst of white vapour.
"That's interesting," said another voice
behind them. Luna had clearly passed by
in time to see Hermione cast her
Patronus, and she looked both impressed
and intrigued. "'Hermione's Patronus
used to be an otter. It was never a
dragon."
And Hermione promptly felt her heart
stop beating.
Physically impossible, she knew that, of
course - but it sure as hell felt like it.
Her eyes immediately flickered towards
Draco, who was staring back at her, his
features rearranged in an expression of
unfiltered surprise. He looked so taken
aback that he could hardly say a word.
"Well," Blaise ventured, sounding
distinctly amused now, "Patronus
changes are often rare but not impossible
- happens after traumatic incidents or
even when you're in love. I think of
Pansy when I cast mine, so it's no
surprise that my Patronus takes the shape
of a wolf. Fascinating, isn't it?" He
grinned before taking a step back,
winking as Hermione shot him a look of
horror. "Luna, I think 'Dromeda's calling
us in."
"Oh, alright. I don't think she is but I
think these two would like to be alone
now," Luna said serenely, quickly
heading back into the house.
Blaise laughed heartily and strode in
after her, pausing on the way to pat
Draco on the back. Hermione could still
hear his laughter long after he'd
disappeared into the house and she
thought that if there were one person she
wouldn't mind hexing at that moment, it'd
be that bloody tosser Blaise Zabini.
The silence that was left in the wake of
Blaise's and Luna's departure was
frightening, to say the least. It felt like
she was tethering off the edge of a
slippery precipice. And when Draco
took a step closer, she hardly dared to
look at him.
"Is it true?" Draco said at last, his voice
unusually low and rough. He sounded
even more hesitant than she was. "What
Blaise said - is it true?"
Hermione finally chanced a glance at
him, realising that his expressions were
locked down once again, tightened and
completely unreadable. She swallowed
hard, not trusting herself to speak at the
moment, and simply nodded. Once.
But that was confirmation enough for
him and he took another step closer, his
figure blocking the sun from her direct
line of vision. "Hermione," he clenched
his jaw briefly, and she could literally
see him working his way through the
words and emotions that threatened to
engulf him whole. "I'm not a good person
-"
"I know."
" - or even a decent person - "
"I know."
" - and I will never deserve you - "
"I know," she reached down to grasp his
hand, pressing his palm against her
cheek and tilting her face up to look
directly at him. "I don't like you because
of who you are, Draco. I like you in
spite of who you are."
She watched as something
indecipherable flickered in his silver
eyes. And then he was bringing his other
hand up to brush against her cheek,
closing the distance between them with
one final, decisive step. His breath was
warm on her face and she found her eyes
fluttering shut as he leaned closer.
"Hermione," he breathed, and then
stopped. "One second."
She opened her eyes in confusion as he
pulled back briefly, casting an annoyed
glance in the direction of the house. She
could've sworn she saw Andromeda,
Luna and all the Slytherins peeking out
through one of the windows; but before
she knew it, Draco had lifted a hand to
cast a charm on the house. Immediately,
all the drapes on the different windows
were pulled shut, leaving them out of
sight from any prying eyes.
A bubble of amused laughter escaped
her lips as she turned back to him,
watching as his features softened, his
lips shifting into a crooked, hesitant
smile. Draco hardly ever smiled. She
had to catch her breath at the sight of
that.
"Not because," he repeated, seeking
affirmation through his gaze alone, his
fingers tightening on her hips, "but in
spite of?"
Merlin, he was just as frightened as she
was, wasn't he? Or perhaps even more
so. Hermione nodded, letting a light
smile gloss her lips. "In spite of."
The expression on his face shifted, his
silver eyes darkened to grey as he
leaned in, slowly capturing her lips with
his. He didn't let her hold back or hide
away - it was just him and her. Just his
lips, gentle but demanding on hers; just
his fingers threading through her curls,
his other hand tilting her head to that
perfect angle, his thumb brushing the
flush on her cheek; just a hint of his
tongue skimming deliciously across the
crevice between her lips and wrenching
a breathless sound from her. And
somewhere in the back of her beautifully
addled brain, Hermione Granger could
only think of one thing -
Draco Malfoy kissed like there was no
tomorrow.
And in a war, that was the best way to
kiss.
36 | morsmordre

36
mo r s mo r d r e
Conjures the dark mark.

The first thing Draco and Hermione

noticed upon returning to the house was
that everyone was seated in the living
room.
The second thing was that Andromeda
looked thoroughly happy for them.
Hermione quickly detached herself from
Draco's side, and he watched, unable to
take his eyes off her as she hugged
Andromeda, exchanging an enthusiastic,
discreet conversation with his aunt.
A dry, exaggerated cough ripped Draco's
attention away and he looked at Theo,
who was balanced on the arm of the
chair that Luna was seated on. Blaise
and Pansy were on the sofa, gazing up
expectantly at him.
"I'll hex anyone who hugs me," Draco
warned, half-afraid that they'd give him
the same reaction that Andromeda had
given Hermione, but none of them
budged an inch.
Instead, Blaise's lips simply curled in a
smirk. "Just tell us one thing - who made
the first move?"
The hesitant pause on Draco's part was
answer enough.
And Blaise's grin vanished the next
instant. "No way!"
On the other hand, Pansy looked more
than ecstatic. She let out a whoop,
punching her boyfriend playfully on his
arm before waggling her fingers at him.
"I knew it! Come on, boys, pay the
ladies!"
Grumbling under his breath, Blaise dug
into his pockets for a couple of galleons
and shoved them into Pansy's hands.
Theo swore and did the same to Luna,
complaining under his breath the whole
time.
Draco's eyes narrowed as realisation
suddenly dawned on him. "You fucking
bet on us?"
"Oh, lighten up, Draco," Pansy rolled
her eyes. "Luna and I just bet that
Hermione would be the first one to
confess her feelings for you, that's all.
The guys were foolish enough to place
their bets on you."
"My mistake," Theo grumbled, still
looking disgruntled at having lost the
bet. "I can't believe Draco didn't confess
first!" He added, blatantly disregarding
the fact that his friend was still standing
in the room and glaring daggers at him.
"Well, Hermione's always been very
honest about her feelings," said Luna,
who looked extremely pleased by the
turn of events.
Whereupon the four launched into a
heated debate about who the braver was
of the two, and it was all Draco could
do to keep from hexing them left right
and centre. Honestly, of all the bloody
things in the world they could bet about,
it had to be this.
And the worst part about it was that he
wasn't even surprised. Slytherins were
known for doing things like these
anyway.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Sometime later that night, Draco was

heading up the stairs when he paused on
the landing of the second floor as he
heard a rather animated conversation
going on in one of the rooms. And the
moment he heard the words 'shag-tastic'
and 'accio condom' said in quick
succession in Theo's distinct voice, he
knew that this was a conversation he had
to end.
Effective immediately.
He strode quickly to Theo's room,
pushing open the door. His eyes landed
on Hermione, and one look at her
flushed face told him that this was not a
conversation she should be participating
in.
He glared at Pansy, Blaise and Theo,
each of them staring back at him
innocently. "Kindly explain to me why
you three feel the pressing need to
corrupt my girlfriend," he said flatly,
crossing his arms over his chest and
leaning against the doorframe.
Pansy gave him a wicked smile. "I don't
think that's the true pressing need here, if
you know what I mean."
The look he shot her was enough to kill
the Dark Lord himself, but Pansy being
Pansy didn't turn a hair. "There is no
pressing need."
"Can't get it up, mate?" Blaise chuckled.
"Magic helps, sometimes. Remember
what you said to Theo about the
Levitation charm?"
Theo sniggered, lifting a hand to draw
the motions in mid-air. "Swish and
flick."
"It's Le-vi-O-sa," Hermione added
breezily. "Not Le-vi-o-SAR."
Draco couldn't quite get a grasp on the
situation. Somehow, all the three
Slytherins were mocking him - as if he
ever had to worry about not being able
to get a bloody erection! - and Hermione
was more than happy to join in.
Before any more damage could be done,
Draco hastily extricated Hermione from
the room. They headed up to the stairs,
and it wasn't until they were safely in
their shared bedroom, with the magic
locks and muffling charms in place when
Draco glanced down at her and realised
that she was still grinning.
Still fucking grinning.
And even though he was crazy about her,
Draco also knew that letting Hermione
Granger have the upper-hand in a
situation - in any situation, really - was a
very dangerous thing. So he levelled her
a look with a gleam in his eye that far
outshone Pansy's in wickedness.
"Granger," he drawled, with all the
calmness in the world, "if you grin for
one second longer, I'll be inclined to
take off my pants just to prove to you
how bloody wrong you are."
That promptly wiped the smile off her
face.
"It was just a joke," she mumbled,
crossing her arms defensively over her
chest, cheeks darkening several shades
of red as she glanced away. "I should
think I have a fair grasp of how well
your anatomy works, considering the fact
that we sleep on the same bed."
If he were saint Potter or someone else
with a little more propriety, he would've
been embarrassed. Unfortunately, Draco
was a Malfoy and Malfoys had no
shame. He simply let his lips curl up in a
smug grin, bracing both arms against the
wall to cage her in. "Turns you on,
doesn't it, Granger?"
"You're a bloody cockroach, Malfoy,"
she returned, even though she a delicious
shudder wrecked through her when he
leaned in to brush his lips against her
forehead.
She was an addictive mix of flushed
embarrassment and snarky defiance all
at once, and he didn't think he could ever
get enough of her. "You're forgetting all
your adjectives," he reminded her, "foul,
loathsome, evil and little...any of those
ring a bell?"
Her eyes met his curiously; a strange,
satisfied smile curving her lips as she
reached up to slide her palms up the
planes of his cheeks. "You remember?"
And if he couldn't say a word earlier on,
when she'd confessed her feelings for
him, he found it easier this time round; in
the safety of their room, with her hands
drawing him close and everything else
faded to black until he could see nothing
but her, the sole source of light in his
otherwise destroyed life.
"Can't forget. You're in here," he
mumbled, pulling her hand up to his
head, feeling her fingers sift gently
through his blond locks; "and in here,"
he pulled her other hand up to press
against his chest, her palm warm over
his heart. "Even Obliviate couldn't make
me forget you."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The next morning, they were standing

side by side in front of the sink brushing
their teeth when Hermione revealed the
juicy details of the conversation she had
with the Slytherins the night before.
"I'm not the most sexually experienced
person," she mumbled around a mouthful
of toothpaste. "Pansy thought that I might
like some advice. Who knew that Blaise
and Theo'd be more than happy to give
their so-called valuable input?"
He stepped aside for her and she spat
into the sink, cleansing her mouth with
water the muggle way. Draco, on the
other hand, didn't hesitate to use his
wand to clear out all remnant traces of
toothpaste from his mouth.
"Blaise and Theo were more than happy
to tell me about your shag-fests,"
Hermione added wickedly, laughing
when Draco began to choke. She picked
up her wand, pointed it at his throat.
"Anapneo."
His airway cleared instantly and he shot
her a grateful look. After he'd finished
cleansing his mouth, he narrowed his
eyes. "What did they say?"
"That all the rumours I heard back at
Hogwarts were true. And more."
Draco let out a groan, closing the gap
between them to press his forehead
against hers, his lips ghosting hers with
the barest friction that made her let out a
whimper. "Not for a long time," he
mumbled against her lips, his eyes
closed like he feared nothing but
judgement and loathing if he met her
gaze. "After 'Dromeda told me to find
you, I just focused on that and nothing
else seemed to matter. And the longer I
worked for the Dark Lord and the more
I...killed - it just didn't seem right."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked
quietly.
"I mean that - the blood stains," he
swallowed hard, eyes still shut. "They
don't fade. There are times when I look
down at my hands and I think they're
crimson, red. No amount of magic or
scrubbing seems to erase that. For the
longest time, it seemed wrong to touch
anyone. Then you came along and, fuck,
Granger," he opened his eyes, the silver
almost obsidian, and pulled back. "My
defences crumble in front of you. But
there are times when I am terrified that
I'd somehow - I don't know - ruin you,
taint you, or something."
Hermione simply wound her arms tightly
around him and let his words sink into
the soft silence. She thought of all the
times back in the apartment when Draco
had pulled away from her, or kept his
distance from her. His actions now made
perfect sense.
"That's what you're afraid of?"
He nodded silently. She pulled back,
gripping his face gently and pressing her
lips quickly to his before drawing away.
She hoped that each touch, each kiss was
an affirmation that all the monsters were
just in his head and in the past.
"You know what I was afraid of?" She
let an embarrassed smile gloss her face
as she tried to lighten the mood. "How
I'd keep up with your apparent sexual
prowess."
Draco's lips immediately twitched, his
dark mood rapidly vanishing. "What?"
"Well, I've got a lot of catching up to
do," she shrugged, trying and failing to
fight the blush that was already
spreading across her cheeks rapidly.
"There was Victor Krum - very sloppy
kisser, I vaguely remember," she counted
off on one finger, "and Ron - Luna tells
me we kissed - once. That's two. End
of."
He stared at her in amusement. "Granger,
you know that doesn't bother me."
"Of course I know it doesn't." She
picked up her wand, slipping her hand
through his as they headed down the
steps together. "But I like being top of
the class, best at anything I do."
"Even in this?"
The smirk she shot him was more
wicked than any he could possibly
manage. "Especially in this."
He paused abruptly on the steps leading
towards the first floor and turned
towards her, a glimmer of challenge in
his smile. "Well, Granger, I think this'll
work in both our favours. You know that
I'll award you 'Exceeds Expectations' no
matter what the result," he added with a
breathy whisper, his breath hot on her
lips.
Hermione laughed and looped her arms
around his neck. "With a certificate and
everything?"
"I'll have it framed and hung on
'Dromeda's wall."
"No, you would not!" Andromeda's
appalled voice interrupted them, and the
two of them whirled around, only to find
the older woman heading up the stairs.
She paused briefly to wave her finger
warningly at Draco. "No frames on my
walls. I will not allow Teddy to grow up
in a house with certificates that read -
Exceeds Expectations in Oral
Examination - in bold black font on my
wall!"
"Sweet Merlin," Hermione promptly
flushed, burying her face in her hands,
thoroughly mortified that Andromeda
had clearly heard everything.
"'Dromeda!"
But Draco simply let out a throaty
chuckle, tugging Hermione close to him
as shifted aside for Andromeda.
"Slytherins don't mince words, Granger -
might as well get used to it."
Andromeda laughed in agreement and
headed upstairs. "By the way," she
tossed nonchalantly over her shoulder,
"you have company in the kitchen."
"What company?" Hermione inquired,
but Andromeda had conveniently
disappeared by then.
She followed Draco down the stairs,
pausing in surprise when she saw the
people in the kitchen. Luna was in the
kitchen whipping up a batch of pancakes,
but that wasn't the unexpected sight.
Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were
seated at the kitchen table having
breakfast.
"For Salazar's sake," Draco swore,
making everyone in the kitchen look up.
"Do all my sworn enemies live here?"
"Not Ron," Ginny was the first to break
the silence, a mocking smirk on her face.
"Yet."
"Don't put ideas into saint Potter's head,
Weaselette; we all know that he and the
bloody Weasel are attached at the hip."
"Morning to you too, Malfoy," Harry
greeted calmly, hardly fazed by Draco's
snub, his smile widening at the brunette
hovering uncertainly by the doorway.
"Hi, Hermione."
Hermione waved shyly at him. "Hello,
Harry. Ginny. Morning, Luna."
"Morning. Would you and Draco like
some pancakes?" Luna smiled serenely
at them from her position in front of the
stove.
Draco threw her a frosty look before
returning his attention to Harry and
Ginny. "I'm giving the both of you three
seconds to explain why you felt the need
to ruin my morning with your
aggravating presence."
"I thought I told you," Ginny said
blandly, spearing a bit of pancake on her
fork and shoving it into her mouth,
chewing slowly like she had all the time
in the world. "I'm going to join your
team."
"And," Harry cleared his throat almost
awkwardly, "if it's alright with you,
Malfoy - I'd like to join as well."
Hermione's mouth fell open in surprise,
but even Draco, who had long ago since
mastered the art of expressionless
façades, couldn't quite stop the flicker of
disbelief that flashed in his eyes for a
brief moment. He narrowed his eyes at
them. "What?"
Ginny shrugged. "I thought you guys
were looking for people to recruit.
Harry and I would be more than happy to
help."
"When the hell did we - " Draco paused
abruptly as he suddenly recalled how
Andromeda, Blaise and Pansy had gone
to headquarters to recruit people some
time ago, after 17-65 had received the
mission from McGonagall. Damn it. He
swallowed back the aggravated noise
that was on the tip of his tongue and
levelled them a challenging look. "Why
would you want to join the five of us?"
"Five?" Harry blinked in confusion. "I
thought Luna was a part of the team.
She's the one who said that you'd be
more than happy to have us."
Draco glared daggers at the blonde-
haired witch, whose face remained
blank, eyes wide and innocent. "Since
when were you a part of the team,
Lovegood?"
"Since I moved in," Luna returned
cheerfully. "Remember?"
"I thought you moved in because
Andromeda invited you to stay here,"
Hermione interjected, looking rather
confused herself as she tried to come to
grips with the situation. She was more
than surprised to find that her friends
would much rather join the Slytherins
than the Order.
"Yes, and I thought you guys were okay
with it because I was a part of the team
for two missions."
Draco swore under his breath again,
much to the amusement of the others at
the table. "Fine. But you two," he
directed his suspicious gaze at Harry
and Ginny. "Why?"
"Because of Hermione," was Harry's
unexpected explanation. He met her
gaze, his features softening into
something like unspoken apology before
he turned back to Draco. "I couldn't end
the war three years ago, and she paid the
price for that. Ginny and I - we just want
to be here for Hermione. And I want to
finish what I couldn't three years ago,
even if it means helping someone else
defeat You-Know-Who."
Hermione felt her eyes sting with a
strong wave of emotions and she smiled
at Harry, reaching across the table to
take his hand. "Thank you. For the
record, I still do think that you're the
Chosen One. Draco thinks so too."
Everyone turned to look at Draco, who
deliberately ignored them and grabbed
the coffee pot, filling two mugs to the
brim for himself and Hermione. It was
true - he did think that Potter was far
more capable of killing the Dark Lord
than that git Longbottom, but he'd much
rather hex his limbs off than admit that
out loud.
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry squeezed her
hand briefly before letting go. "Well,
Malfoy? Can we join? I'm kind of putting
my pride on the line here."
Draco paused, setting the mugs down
and glancing at Hermione. He flicked his
eyes to the living room briefly, and she
immediately understood. "Excuse us, for
just a few minutes," she murmured,
climbing to her feet and heading out to
the living room with him.
Once they were out of earshot, Draco
quickly cast muffling charms, leaned
against the back of the sofa and let out a
lengthy sigh. "I know they're your
friends, Granger, but - " he trailed off,
looking rather reluctant to finish his
sentence.
"You're uncomfortable with them," she
smiled, leaning into him and looping her
arms around his neck. "So am I, to be
honest. I do love them, but it's just a lot
to take in all at once. And I do miss the
times when it was just the five of us
against the world."
His lips curved in a fleeting, satisfied
smile that made her heart stutter. He
reached forward, his fingers twisting
around a single lock of her hair and he
seemed completely entranced just
watching the brown strands curl and
uncurl around his fingers. "I think," he
started slowly, his attention still focused
on her hair, "that logically speaking - it
would be the wisest choice to include
more people, so long as they're people
we can trust."
"I have no doubt that Ginny and Harry
are all trustworthy. But it's your call,
Draco, you're the head of 17-65."
He shook his head. "I just started the
group - but 17-65 belongs to all of us. I
think the other three might want to have a
say in this."
Hermione nodded eagerly and slid her
hands down to his shoulders, tugging him
up so that he was no longer leaning
against the sofa. "Let's go talk to them."
"No," he sounded amused, "I'll talk to
them. You need to explain your
behaviour to Potter and Company
because now they've seen you mauling
me in the middle of the living room."
Her eyes widened and she flushed when
she saw that both Harry and Ginny were
all sneaking surreptitious glances their
way from the kitchen. "I wasn't mauling
you," she argued, but still kept her hands
linked around his neck, much to his
never-ending amusement.
"Granger, look at Potter - he's about to
have a heart attack. On second thoughts,
come here and kiss me - maybe I'll be
the one who gets to kill the Boy Who
fucking Lived."
Hermione rolled her eyes but she
couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from
her lips. "Talk to Blaise and the others,"
she urged, shaking her head fondly at
Draco before heading back to the
kitchen. She settled down opposite
Harry, biting the nail on her thumb
almost nervously as she met his wide
green-eyed gaze. "I, um, suppose you
have questions?"
"Oh, no, not questions," Ginny
interjected, winking at her swiftly. She
didn't seem surprised at all, and
Hermione had to wonder if perhaps
Ginny had guessed it all this while.
"Harry's just having a bout of hysterical
screaming ringing inside his head and
trying to decide whether to claw his own
eyes out or hex Malfoy's balls off."
Hermione laughed when Harry shot his
girlfriend a flat look. "I'm just taken
aback, that's all," Harry mumbled,
almost defensively, before turning back
to Hermione. "When did this happen? I
don't recall you and Malfoy being
together last time I visited."
"It happened just yesterday," Luna
explained on Hermione's behalf, a
pleased expression on her face. "And I
won two galleons from Theo because
Hermione made the first move."
Hermione stared at the blonde witch in
surprise. "Is that why Theo couldn't stop
grumbling?"
"Yes, I don't think he fancies losing a bet
to a Ravenclaw."
"Malfoy didn't make the first move?"
Ginny shook her head, her eyes glinting
in good humour. "Shame. And there I
was thinking he'd be the first to break,
especially after I'd wheedled the truth
out of him the other day."
Harry blinked at Ginny. "Wait. You knew
about Malfoy and Hermione?"
"Saw it the morning after I spent the
night at Andromeda's. Draco was so
bloody obvious about it. I even asked
him about it; he didn't deny anything."
Harry frowned. "And you didn't tell
me?"
"Not my secret to tell."
"Since when did you become so loyal to
Malfoy, of all people?"
"Since he saved my life, Harry. I owe
him, even though he's a bloody prat," she
mused, before turning to Hermione, who
had settled down in the chair opposite
her and next to Luna. "No offence,
Hermione."
"None taken. Besides, he is kind of a
prat," Hermione couldn't help but add,
with a laugh.
Harry grinned, looking almost relieved.
"Well, as long as you know it."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Okay, is it just me, or is this situation

entirely awkward?"
Draco rolled his eyes at Theo's
rhetorical question. But, as he gazed
around at the group gathered in the living
room, he couldn't help but secretly
agree. It was awkward.
It turned out that Blaise was more than
enthusiastic about having Luna, Harry
and Ginny join 17-65. Pansy, naturally,
was on board with his decision. And so
that left Theo - who, after many hours of
grumbling, finally gave in, mostly
because he was outvoted two-to-one.
So 17-65 had expanded to include three
more people, bringing the total count to
eight. After McGonagall had dropped off
a new mission several days later, Draco
had quickly come up with a plan within
a few hours, and had gathered the other
seven in Andromeda's living room to run
his ideas by them.
"Why would it be awkward?" Ginny
said now, raising her eyebrows
challengingly at Theo. She was on the
loveseat next to Potter, while Luna sat
adjacent to them on the sofa, followed
by Pansy and Blaise. Hermione, on the
other hand, had opted to sit on the
counter next to Theo, who was still
smarting over being outvoted several
afternoons ago.
"It's not awkward," Blaise hurriedly
said, before Theo could voice his
opinions. "Go on, Draco. What's the new
mission from McGonagall about?"
Draco glanced down at the crumpled
slip of paper in his hand, looking at
McGonagall's neat cursive, in spite of
the fact that it had probably been written
in haste. "The Order's recently tracked
down one of the Dark Lord's bases. The
Ruins, in the Forest of Dean?" He
directed the question to Blaise in
particular; who, like him, was well-
versed in the different places the Dark
Lord used as hideouts.
Blaise nodded but it was Harry who
spoke, leaning forward in his seat, his
eyes wide and curious. "The Forest of
Dean?" He repeated, darting a glance
over at Hermione, who smiled at him.
"That's where Hermione and I stayed
while we hunted for Horcruxes."
Harry was simply reminiscing, but
Hermione clearly couldn't remember a
thing about it, because panic flashed in
her eyes as she met Draco's gaze across
the room. Draco subtly shook his head at
Harry, who seemed to understand the
implications of his words as well as
Hermione's condition, and hastily kept
his mouth shut.
"So, The Ruins," Draco repeated,
carefully steering the conversation back
on track. "Shacklebolt thinks it's
impossible to break into the base,
because the place is on full lockdown."
"Oh, right." Realisation dawned in
Blaise's eyes as he shifted in his seat to
explain to the rest. "It's charmed such
that you can't apparate in or disapparate
out. Portkeys don't work either. You have
to fly in, but if you're not a Death-Eater,
you'll immediately trigger off an alarm
that'll alert the entire of the Dark Lord's
army."
"Well, this is tricky," Pansy frowned.
"How will we retrieve the plans and
escape without triggering the alarm?"
"You can't." Draco shrugged when his
words were met with worried looks.
"There's no way to do it - trust me, I was
there when Bellatrix did the charms on
the place. So you have about five
minutes to get in, get the plans and get
the hell out of there before you get
yourselves killed."
He'd said it so nonchalantly that Blaise
narrowed his eyes, staring suspiciously
at the blonde wizard. "You'd better have
a bloody backup plan, Draco, because
this one has failed-mission written all
over it. How the hell are we supposed to
do all that in five minutes?"
Draco smirked now, his fingers
instinctively reaching up to graze the
Dark Mark on his arm that was hidden
under his jumper. "You all have five
minutes. I have far more than that."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco? Are you awake?"

Draco let out a muffled groan against her
shoulder and shifted. While he knew
very well that this was one of
Hermione's favourite habits - talking in
the middle of the night about arbitrary
things - he actually was about to sink
into a deep, undisturbed slumber this
time round. He'd long ago since realised
that sleeping next to Hermione Granger
was possibly the only antidote to his
lengthy bouts of insomnia. He loved
having her next to him, even though he'd
never say that aloud.
"No," he mumbled now, keeping his eyes
shut when she shifted in his arms to face
him, her breath warm on his face. "Go
back to sleep, Granger."
"Can't. It's hot and I'm taking my top off."
Draco had both his eyes open before he
could even realise that Hermione was
just teasing. She was staring up at him
with twinkling brown eyes and was still
very, very much clothed in his shirt. Her
smile stretched when she saw that he'd
well and truly fallen into his trap.
"Fucking tease," he muttered, shifting so
that he was on his back, running a tired
hand through his hair. But when he heard
her laugh, his lips couldn't help but
twitch reluctantly in response. "What do
you want?"
"Earlier on, at the meeting, when you
were telling us about McGonagall's
mission," she began, slowly, almost
thoughtfully. "You said that you'd have a
longer time to break in compared to us,
but you didn't explain why."
"I didn't?" He repeated, even though he
knew full well what he hadn't said.
"No. All you said was that you'd have
more than five minutes. And then you
went ahead and assigned us our tasks."
Draco let out a lengthy sigh and turned
back to face her, his face a hairsbreadth
away from hers. "I didn't elaborate any
further earlier because I didn't want
anyone to worry. Least of all you,
Granger."
He was surprised when she leaned in,
brushing her lips briefly against his and
sending a pleasant ache knotting in his
lower stomach.
"It has to do with your Dark Mark,
doesn't it?" She caught the flicker of
shock in his eyes and chuckled. "Draco,
it's closing in to summer and you're still
wearing your jumpers and jackets
everywhere you go. Don't think I haven't
noticed. Theo and the others have
stopped wearing long-sleeved clothes to
cover their Dark Marks up a long time
ago because they know it doesn't bother
me anymore. But you still cover it up all
the time."
Draco briefly thought about his days at
Hogwarts, and how Lucius, his father,
had always been furious whenever he
learnt that Hermione Granger's grades
were leaps and bounds ahead of
Draco's, even though he'd always come
in second only to her. Earning Lucius's
approval had always been an uphill task,
and Draco had spent most of his early
teenage years loathing the bushy-haired
witch because she made him pale in
comparison. Always made him feel so
inadequate.
But for the past few months, Draco had
begun to see that Hermione's title as the
brightest witch of their age was well-
deserved. And this astute deduction
about his Dark Mark had once again
proved her worthy of that title.
Feeling a strange rush of affection for
her, Draco reached up to curl a gentle
hand around the nape of her neck, pulling
her in close. "You. Are. Brilliant," he
mumbled, punctuating each word with a
hot, searing kiss. Her lips parted; he
could see the heat in her irises and her
silent pleas for him to deepen his kisses
and not hold back.
Truthfully, he wanted to. Merlin, he
really wanted to, but a part of him was
still holding back. A part of him was
still terrified.
"Yes, it has to do with my Mark," he said
instead, quieter this time. After pausing
to look at her warily, he slowly dragged
up the sleeve of his jumper, showing the
skull and snake emblem scarred on his
arm. "See the difference?"
Hermione reached out to trace the Mark,
her fingers warm on his skin. It almost
seemed wrong, having her touch such a
frightening, evil thing, but she seemed
hardly bothered by it. "It's black," she
mused, a hint of intrigue in her voice.
"But Theo's Mark is faint and red.
Pansy's and Blaise's are too. Why?"
Draco shook his head, drawing his arm
away from her. "No bloody clue," he
muttered. "Even when I was in the Dark
Lord's army, my Mark always began
burning before any of the others' did.
Bellatrix, Dolohov and I were always
the first ones summoned."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Maybe he's
trying to find you."
"Impossible," Draco's lips curled in a
wry smirk. "The Dark Lord doesn't give
a shit about anyone but himself.
Whenever we failed a mission, he'd dish
out Crucios by the dozen."
She winced at the mention of the
Cruciatus curse and shifted closer, her
fingers sliding around his waist and her
hair tickling his chin. "But you're the
head Death-Eater. It's true that You-
Know-Who has no clue about what love
is as a concept. But it could be possible
that he's grown attached to having you by
his side all these years."
"Granger, tell me you're not suggesting
that the Dark Lord has any emotional ties
with me. Because I can feel the remnants
of dinner making a glorious comeback
up my throat."
She laughed and swatted him gently. "I'm
just saying. Yes, he is nothing but evil.
But he's also human. He's got to have a
weakness. Every evil ruler has a
weakness - Hitler, Stalin, Ivan IV, Vlad -
"
"I have absolutely no clue what you just
said."
"They're muggle rulers, Draco."
"Fuck, Granger, you cannot possibly
compare them to - "
She silenced him by pressing her lips
against his, which proved entirely
effective because he promptly lost all
trend of thought and allowed her to kiss
him, his eyes falling shut and breath
hitching when she experimentally nipped
at his lower lip. After a few seconds,
she drew away, the smile on her face
triumphant.
His eyes narrowed. Twice. She'd gotten
him wrapped around her finger twice
and he swore on Salazar's soul that he
wasn't even surprised. "Bloody tease."
"This is actually better than the Silencing
charm," she mused happily, but the smile
on her face quickly faded as she returned
back to the topic of conversation.
"Anyway, as I was saying, every evil
ruler in history had an army, a team of
fanatical supporters. You-Know-Who is
no different. Like it or not, he's
completely dependent on the lot of you
Death-Eaters. But especially you,
because you know everything there is to
know about his army. He actually trusted
you. There's got to be some fundamental
attachment that comes along with trust.
It's human nature, after all."
Draco froze. He remembered
Andromeda telling him that the Dark
Lord had divided his soul into fragments
and kept them in magical objects called
Horcruxes. Nagini the bloody snake was
one, but she'd been destroyed by
Longbottom. And, according to
'Dromeda, the rest of the Horcruxes had
all been destroyed three years ago.
Which could only mean one thing - the
Dark Lord was human once again.
And, like all humans, he was
defenceless.
37 | fiendfyre

37
f i e n d f y re
Unleashes cursed fire.

The Forest of Dean was rife with lush

greenery as the months spiralled into
summer, but there was something
desolated about this place that made a
chill run down Draco's spine. Even
Theo, who usually had a lot to say about
anything and everything, was oddly quiet
as they flew through the forest together
on their brooms. After what seemed like
forever, the two came to a clearing deep
within the forest. The Ruins was just
ahead, fifty feet in front of them, but the
buzz of magic alerted Draco to the fact
that the wards were just up ahead.
"See anything?" Draco said lowly,
feeling a rush of wind as Theo came up
alongside him. The two were under
Disillusionment charms, and Draco
could only guess where his friend was.
"Or feel anything?"
"Yes," came Theo's snarky reply. "I feel
the bloody heat and it's killing me. Do
you think you can make it snow?"
Draco ignored him, being entirely used
to Theo's ridiculous quips by now.
Blaise or Pansy would've been a quieter
choice, but Draco had always worked
best with Theo. Besides, Theo was a
fantastic duellist with killer senses, so
long as he kept his mouth shut. Draco
needed him to stay alert and watch his
back.
"Stay right here," Draco told him. With
Theo's inactive Dark Mark, there was no
way Theo himself could make it through
without triggering anything. "If the alarm
sounds, light the phials and get into the
building immediately."
"I know, I know." Theo grumbled. "If
you remind me one more time, I swear
on Salazar's grave that I'll hex you."
"As if you fucking could."
Leaving Theo with that parting remark,
Draco turned back to the task at hand. He
leaned forward, a slight movement that
propelled the broom forward. He felt the
faint tingle of magic gloss his cheeks as
he inched through the wards and held his
breath.
Nothing.
He moved forward, bit by bit, testing the
wards to see if they would hold or
break. To his immense satisfaction, they
didn't. His jet black Mark clearly proved
beneficial at a time like this. With a
surge of confidence, he flew straight to
the building and headed for one of the
windows on the third floor. It was
latched shut, but it didn't take long for
him to undo the magical locks,
murmuring a well-rehearsed incantation
under his breath before shifting back.
"Alohomora," Draco directed the wand
at the latch, and it clicked open.
And he was in.
He let out a breath he didn't know he
was holding and climbed into the room,
keeping his broom with him. The room
was a dusty and unused one, empty and
completely bare of furniture. He headed
to the door, pulling it open stealthily and
cringing when the door made a jarring
creak. The place was empty, as he'd
suspected it to be. Draco made his way
quickly through the top floor, collecting
every and any important piece of
information he could find, stuffing the
papers into his bag in a haphazard
manner.
Then he came to the large doors with
brass knockers on the second floor and
hesitated. He knew without a doubt that
this room was the most important, and it
had been his target from the very
beginning. He'd been there when
Bellatrix had enchanted the place and
was occasionally sent to retrieve
information for the Dark Lord.
Draco frowned, placing his hand on one
of the brass knocker. His fingers were
just itching to push the doors open - he
knew he could, because he and Bellatrix
and some of the top Death-Eaters had
full access to the room.
But - no. Not this time. It was too risky.
He drew away, but just as he did, he felt
a sharp searing pain in his arm, so
excruciating that he hissed out a string of
incoherent profanities and fell to his
knees, curling up in a foetal position as
he dragged his arm towards his chest.
Merlin, it felt like his arm was fucking
blazing, like someone had literally
dragged him over to a pit of hellfire and
dipped his bloody arm in.
And the last thing he heard before his
mind began to shutter down was the
high-pitched shriek of the siren, a signal
that he'd somehow triggered all the
wards in the place.
The Death-Eaters were coming.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
For the past fifteen minutes, Hermione
had watched Harry fiddle with his
broom, an anxious, almost nauseated
expression on his face.
The group of them were waiting a good
distance away from The Ruins, well
hidden behind a cluster of bushes
somewhere in the Forest of Dean,
waiting for Theo to give his signal.
Draco had already paired the remaining
six of them up based on their flying
abilities on brooms. Blaise, who had
been a Seeker for the Slytherin
Quidditch team during their years at
Hogwarts, was paired with Pansy, who
had a fear of natural heights. Ginny,
who'd been on the Gryffindor team, was
with Luna.
Harry, on the other hand, was less than
enthusiastic when Draco told him he'd
be paired with Hermione. He wasn't just
unenthusiastic - he was terrified.
She stepped closer to Harry now,
placing a careful hand on his arm.
"Everything alright?"
The black-haired wizard pushed his
glasses up the bridge of his nose and
exhaled. "Yeah - yeah, I'm fine."
Hermione studied him for a moment or
two. "Is this about me falling off your
broom three years ago?" His eyes
widened and she shrugged. "Andromeda
told me some time back."
Harry shook his head, passing a tired
hand through his hair. His shoulders
were almost hunched in defeat.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I think about
that day all the time and I cannot even
begin to tell you how much I regret
not...holding on to you, or catching you,
and I - "
"Harry, honestly, it's fine," she shushed
him, easing his worries by wrapping her
arms around him. "You don't have to feel
sorry, or even regret that. It wasn't your
fault to begin with."
Harry kept silent, his shoulders shaking
from the guilt of the past. Hermione
momentarily met Pansy's curious gaze
over his shoulder, and the Slytherin
witch rolled her eyes, mouthing 'bloody
Gryffindors'. Hermione lips tilted up in
an amused grin and she shook her head.
Pulling back, Hermione braced her
hands on Harry's shoulders and met his
green-eyed gaze. "I'm scared too," she
confessed, softly. "Even though I don't
remember anything about that day, or the
fact that I even fell off the broom, I'm
still scared. But if Draco trusts you
enough to pair you up with me, then I'm
going to trust his judgement. And I know
that you're not going to lose me this
time."
"Never, Hermione," he swore, his grip
tightening on her elbows, a determined
edge on his expression.
Hermione made to reply, but she
suddenly froze when the phials heated
inside her shirt. Exchanging a quick
glance with Pansy and Blaise, who had
obviously felt their own phials heat, she
shifted closer to Harry, her heart
thrumming erratically as she began to
fear for Draco's safety.
"Okay," Blaise murmured, climbing into
his broom and lowering it so that Pansy
could get on it as well. He was the one
in charge of the group in Draco's
absence, and Hermione thought that
Blaise's calm voice made the situation a
lot more bearable. "Let's go. Don't forget
the Disillusionment charms."
Hermione climbed on behind Harry,
latching her arms tight around his waist
as they took off. The thrill of flying was
something she hadn't experienced in a
long time, having never been particularly
adept at flying on brooms to begin with.
The rush of wind nipping at her cheeks
and tangling up her hair sent an
adrenaline rush through her as she kept
her eyes peeled for any Death-Eaters in
the distance.
Harry had cast a Disillusionment charm
on them midway through, and it was an
almost nerve-wrecking feeling to see the
broom disappear completely, the ground
racing fast a good few feet beneath them.
She instinctively tightened her arms
around Harry, felt him take her hand
briefly to give it a reassuring squeeze,
before returning his attention to flying.
It took them exactly a good forty-five
seconds - as Draco had earlier
calculated - to reach The Ruins. By then,
the shrieking siren was absolutely
deafening, and she could barely hear
anything else above the chaos. He
navigated them towards the unlocked
window on the third floor, and she
quickly leapt off the broom the moment
they were in the house, undoing the
Disillusionment charms on herself.
"First floor!" She yelled to Harry,
noticing that all the doors on the third
were already left open. "Pansy and
Blaise are putting up shields outside, but
we only have a few minutes left if their
shields don't hold!"
"Got it," he hollered back, reaching over
to pull her towards the stairs.
Ginny and Luna were on the second
floor, shelving through the rooms and
yelling across the corridor to each other.
She separated from Harry and headed to
the left wing, while he went to the rooms
on the right. It didn't take long for her to
find a study desk with a vault of files
within. She hastily stuffed them into her
satchel, grateful for the Extension Charm
that Draco had casted earlier on for her.
The next few rooms were empty, but she
chanced upon a large coffer in the next
room, with the familiar Dark Mark
etched into the top of it. "Alohomora,"
she directed her wand at it, but the locks
remained in place. When she tugged it,
there came a clattering noise within that
sounded remarkably similar to phials
and glass bottles knocking against each
other.
Something important was inside and she
decided she was going to have to take it.
She began to lug the box out of the room,
just as a loud yell came from the floor
above.
"One minute!" It was Blaise, and he'd
cast an Amplifying charm to magnify his
voice over the siren's wail. "Time to
go!"
"This isn't good," Hermione muttered her
breath, and dragged the box out.
"Harry?"
Harry came rushing out of the last room
beside hers that moment, his eyes
widening when he saw what she was
struggling with. "Merlin, Hermione," he
stopped abruptly, staring in disbelief at
the box.
"Transfigure it, please. I've a feeling this
is important."
"Okay," he took a step closer, mumbling
an incantation under his breath and she
watched in fascination as the box swiftly
changed in appearance to a simple quill.
Hermione hastily stuffed it into her bag
before nodding at him. "Let's go."
"Get on," he pulled her onto the broom
after him, but just then, a thunderous
crash echoed through the building.
"'Hermione, careful! Protego!"
Hermione felt her eardrums almost split
with the sound of rubble falling around
her just as she was yanked close
towards Harry, who had cast a
protective shield around them. When the
crashing debris had momentarily paused,
she chanced a quick glance upwards,
only to find that a destructive spell had
completely destroyed the third floor
above.
Harry didn't waste another second.
Gripping her arms tight around him, he
took off, closely navigating their way
through the crumbling pillars. She saw
that their path was blocked by a pile of
smoky debris and didn't hesitate to direct
her wand at it.
"Reducto!"
The wreckage immediately shattered to
bits and Harry navigated the broom
through the cleared path, taking them out
of the ruined building. Hermione
automatically gasped when she saw
three Death-Eaters battling Pansy and
Blaise in the courtyard.
"Incoming, Red! On your left!"
Theo's warning came out of nowhere,
but the spell hit her before she even had
time to react. She toppled off balance,
cried as she lost her grip on Harry and
promptly fell off the broom. But his hand
had latched onto her wrist before she
could take the plunge, and he hauled her
back up, a fierce glint of determination
in his eyes.
"I'm not losing you this time," he assured
her, and she wrapped her arm around
him.
"Thanks, Harry."
"Hang on tight."
Hermione clutched him tighter as he
suddenly dipped the broom down to
avoid a hex that the Death-Eater sent
their way. Keeping one arm tight around
him, she whirled around and took aim,
intending to cast a knockback jinx. But
as they dipped and dived, she found
herself losing aim over and over again.
Rapidly going through what she'd learnt
from Draco, she suddenly recalled a
spell and didn't hesitate to use it.
"Avis!" Instantly, a flock of birds came
streaming out of her wand and she
directed it in the direction of the three
Death-Eaters who were attacking Pansy
and Blaise. "Oppugno!"
The birds rapidly swarmed towards the
three Death-Eaters, and she heard Harry
laugh in approval. "Good one!"
"Let's get out of here, they're fine now!"
Hermione called back, relief surging in
her chest as she saw Pansy and Blaise
quickly finish the Death-Eaters off and
run towards their shared broom that was
propped against the wall.
"Alright - "
But a shrill, frantic scream echoed from
the other side of the courtyard and Harry
paused, spinning around quickly to see
what had happened. "Ginny?"
Hermione's eyes widened. Harry was
right, it was Ginny. She'd spent only a
couple of days with the redhead witch,
but she could recognise her friend's
scream from anywhere. Then Luna was
running across the debris, dragging a
badly injured Ginny behind her. Their
broom was nowhere to be found.
But right on their tails was a blazing
flame like no other. Hermione couldn't
even begin to describe it - it was like an
inferno that blazed powerful and lethal
and consuming.
"Aguamenti!" The spell was out of
Hermione's lips before she could even
think.
"It doesn't work!" Harry yelled back
desperately, as she shot a weak jet of
water at the infernal flames. "It's
Fiendfyre, you can't destroy it!"
Harry swooped the broom down,
reaching out a hand to grab Ginny along
the way, but Pansy and Blaise had
grabbed onto both of the girls before
Harry could reach them. And then Harry
and Hermione were following them,
zigzagging through the flames that
seemed hell-bent on seeking them out.
Hermione couldn't help but glance back
every so often, her heart pounding in
fear. Where was Draco? She'd seen
Theo awhile ago, but Draco was
completely out of sight, and she was
terrified for him. She almost lurched off
the broom when Harry brought it to an
abrupt halt. The flames were no longer
behind them but up ahead, tall and
curving in towards them, pushing them
backwards in their path.
"Get back!" Harry yelled a warning to
the group in front of him - where Pansy
was barely hanging on to Luna, who was
hanging on to Ginny. "Zabini, watch
out!"
Blaise immediately reversed on his
broom, but the sudden momentum caused
Luna to lose her grip on Ginny. And all
Hermione could hear was Harry's
desperate shout while she watched in
helpless horror as the redhead plunged
to her death, just the way she had so long
ago.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco had been in a state of delirium.

The pain had been mind-numbing, but
he'd somehow dragged himself into the
room, gritting his teeth and biting down
so hard on his lip to keep from crying
out he was certain that he had started
bleeding. He pilfered feverishly through
the shelves, his one arm rendered
useless because of the searing pain, and
stuffed anything valuable he could find
inside his bag, including a particular
stone that practically buzzed with magic.
And that was how Theo found him -
hunched over the desk and cradling his
arm possessively to his chest, mumbling
expletives under his breath as he sorted
through stacks of papers.
"Fuck, Draco, you triggered the alarm,
didn't you?"
"Just take these," Draco rasped.
Theo didn't hesitate to cram the rest of
the papers into his bag before producing
a numbing potion in a small phial. "Red
gave me this, just in case. Good thing
she did, huh?"
Saved by Hermione Granger for the
millionth time. Draco eagerly reached
for the potion, downing it in one gulp.
He and Theo continued to collect the
documents, ignoring the sizzle of hexes
outside and the screams and cackles of
Death-Eaters as they began to converge
on the house.
Draco hoped that Blaise and Pansy
would hold their own, but he knew it
wouldn't be for long. "Go," he directed
Theo at last. "help them. Create a
diversion - anything."
Theo didn't argue. He disappeared out of
the room, just as a thundering crash
made the ceiling of the room cave in.
Draco barely had time to cast a
protective shield around him before he
was crushed in its entirety. Blaise's
protective charms were down.
Time to go.
He crawled through the debris, knowing
that his broom was all but destroyed in
the crash. And then he was out in the
open, the sunlight blinding him
momentarily and he instinctively cast a
Disillusionment charm on himself. It was
the wisest way to fight, when the
opponent didn't know where you were.
It was still a sheer drop down, but
Draco stayed where he was, hexing any
incoming enemies from his position.
Theo had vanished by then, having
distracted a group of Death-Eaters away
from ground zero. Pansy and Blaise
were holding their ground, but Ginny and
Luna were barely surviving against the
more skilled Death-Eaters.
A horrified shout distracted him
momentarily, and he felt his heart
constrict in terror when he saw
Hermione hanging on for dear life as she
struggled in mid-air, Potter's hand
wrapped tightly around her wrist as he
pulled her back up. Relief filled him just
as quickly as fury did, and he didn't bat
an eyelid when he shot a killing curse in
the direction of the Death-Eater that had
thrown Hermione off the broom in the
first place.
Moments later, he was distracted by a
loud, piercing scream, along with a
blazing heat that was quickly beginning
to consume the building whole. He knew
what it was without even having to turn.
After the battle of Hogwarts so long ago,
that spell had been a fixture of his
nightmares. His head pounded with a
destructive combination of adrenaline
and terror, and there was only one thing
he knew he had to do.
Run.
Without another thought, he jumped off
the ledge, casting a Cushioning charm at
the bottom to break his fall, stumbling a
few steps when he landed. He didn't
have a broom, but he was invisible,
which made it a lot easier to navigate his
way through the barrage of hexes and
Death-Eaters that swarmed the
courtyard. His other teammates were up
ahead, and Draco kept his eyes fixed on
the brunette witch behind Harry. She
glanced back time and time again,
searching frantically for him.
But then the walls of the infernal flame
ceased from behind and surged ahead,
blocking their narrow escape. It created
a ring around that slowly enclosed and
caved in towards anyone within.
Whoever had started the Fiendfyre
seemed to possess perfect control of it.
Draco had no doubt it was one of the top
Death-Eaters.
Amidst the roaring in his ears and the
dull, throbbing pain in his arm, he heard
warning yells up ahead. And then there
was the sound of Potter's desperate shout
as his redheaded girlfriend plummeted
forty-feet down.
Draco didn't even think before reacting,
stopping in his stride to get a good aim
at Ginny. "Aresto Momentum."
She slowed, the velocity of her fall
decreasing exponentially before she
collapsed gently onto the ground in a
heap.
Draco didn't waste another moment.
"Get her, Potter!" He yelled at the group
ahead, and they turned their heads in his
direction, frowning when they couldn't
see him. He rushed forward, narrowly
avoiding two killing curses that hurtled
his way - damn those bloody Death-
Eaters and their ability to sense
movement even when their opponent
was invisible. "Get her and get out!
Partis Temporus!"
His spell split a generous-sized gap
between the Fiendfyre. Blaise quickly
flew off with Pansy and Luna, while
Harry and Hermione swooped down for
Ginny. He waited until they had escaped
before releasing the spell, running
towards the Fiendfyre himself. And then
he was less than twenty feet, fifteen, ten.
He reached out to cast the same charm
on the Fiendfyre, only to stumble when a
Crucio hit him out of nowhere.
"Fuck."
His vision blurred momentarily as he
dropped to his knees. He was still
invisible, he knew he was, but the
person had managed to hex him all the
same. After he was hit with several
more Crucios that made him writhe in
agony, he knew it was only a matter of
time before someone came to finish him
off.
Gathering his wits about him, he
directed his wand towards the flames
again. "Partis Temporus," he rasped,
exhaling in relief when he saw the
flames slide apart for him. He
practically crawled the last few feet,
throwing himself through the gap and
crumpling up onto the singed grass
ahead.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Andromeda had let out a gasp when she

saw Blaise, Pansy and Luna apparate
back into the house, covered in scrapes
and bruises, the broom-end charred to
bits. Then came Harry, Hermione and
Ginny.
Hermione knew that she and Harry were
relatively unscathed thanks to his nimble
flying skills, but Ginny was in a bad
shape. She set the redhead witch down
on the sofa, leaving Harry to hover over
his girlfriend anxiously, and rushed into
the kitchen to grab whatever healing
potions she could.
"What happened to you?" Andromeda
had already begun to cast healing spells
on Luna, who didn't look too well either.
She had taken some pretty nasty hexes to
her shoulder, and seemed rather
battered.
But the blonde witch smiled despite the
split lip and shook her head. "I'm alright,
Andromeda. Really."
"Where's Draco?" Andromeda glanced
round the group, her eyebrows knitting in
worry. "And Theo? When Theo
apparated back awhile ago, he saw that
none of you were here and went back
again."
"Theo went back?" Blaise looked rather
concerned. He winced when Hermione
mumbled a spell to fix his broken wrist.
"We couldn't find Draco anywhere. He
was invisible but he did part the
Fiendfyre for us."
"There was Fiendfyre?" Andromeda was
horrified now, but Hermione tuned out
their conversation as the group began to
explain things to the older woman.
Where was Draco? That was the only
question that looped over and over again
in her mind.
She was frightened; she had insisted on
going back for Draco earlier on. But
Harry had dragged her off, saying that
they had to stick to the plan and that
Draco was never going to forgive him if
he didn't bring her to safety.
"Red, Red," Pansy shook her now,
breaking Hermione out of her trance.
Pansy looked down at her friend and
smiled softly. "You've already healed all
my wounds, you can stop now."
"Sorry."
Pansy's features softened as she noticed
how Hermione's eyes were glistening
and she was practically gnawing her lip
raw with worry. "Draco will be fine,"
said Pansy, reaching forward to grasp
Hermione's hand tightly. "He always
pulls through somehow."
"I have to find him," Hermione
whispered, brushing the back of her hand
against her eyes roughly. "He's not - we
couldn't even find him, maybe he's
surrounded by Death-Eaters and maybe
he's badly hurt. Like that time,
remember? Remember? When he came
back from Azkaban and that time when -
"
"Hermione," Andromeda was in front of
her now, her palms framing Hermione's
cheeks as she held the bushy-haired
brunette at arm's length. "Hermione -
breathe. Breathe."
"She's having a panic attack," Blaise
explained in a low voice to Harry and
Ginny, who were watching Hermione
with matching looks of shock on their
faces. "She almost blew up the safe-
house in Godric's Hollow the last time."
Harry shook his head in stunned silence
as he watched Hermione. She was
nodding now, her eyes fixed on
Andromeda as the older witch murmured
softly to her. And then Hermione was
climbing to her feet, moving over to fix
Blaise's wounds with a calm steadiness
as if nothing out of the ordinary had
transpired in the previous thirty seconds.
When Hermione shifted over to him to
treat his bruises, Harry simply held out
his hand. Her brown eyes met his green
ones and, after a moment's hesitation,
she reached out and held on. Her grasp
was almost frantic and desperate, even
though the expression on her face was
indifferent.
"He's going to come back," Harry
ventured at last, making sure to speak
softly. "He will. He made me promise to
bring you back and he'll have to come
back to make sure I kept my promise."
"Really?"
"Really, Hermione. He'll come back."
He'd better, Harry thought grimly to
himself, wishing that somehow, he could
telepathically transmit messages to
Draco bloody Malfoy. Hermione's a
wreck without you, you stupid ferret, so
you'd better come back.
38 | nox

38
nox
Counter-spell for lumos.

It took exactly seventeen minutes for

Draco to return back to the house.
Hermione counted.
Theo was with him, and his normally
snarky façade had crumbled into one of
utter worry as he dragged Draco across
the living room. "There's something
wrong," he yelled, almost desperately,
"look at his arm."
Hermione was next to Draco in a flash,
relief surging through her as she pressed
a brief kiss to his sweaty forehead. But
then her eyes travelled down to his Dark
Mark, and she gasped in horror. He was
bleeding, actually bleeding, like
someone had driven a sharp knife
through his skin and carved around the
edges of his Mark.
Andromeda took one look at her nephew
and immediately began to give out
directions in her calm, authoritative
voice. "Theo, Blaise, put him on the
table. Pansy, take Ginny and Luna with
you and make sure they sleep off their
injuries. Harry, I need as many blood-
replenishing potions as you can find, and
tell Grus to make more. Hermione, stay
with Draco."
The group scattered, doing exactly as
Andromeda requested. After Theo and
Blaise had shifted Draco up on the
kitchen table, they made space for
Andromeda, who had started to mutter
an advance-healing spell under her
breath as she tried to seal up the wound.
"What took you two so long?" Blaise
asked Theo, who shook his head.
"I couldn't find him," Theo explained.
"Bloody git had himself covered with a
Disillusionment charm, and I didn't dare
use the Revealing spell because I didn't
want any of the other Death-Eaters
finding him before I did. Good thing he
was bleeding because that was the only
way I could track him down. I found him
hiding behind those bushes that the six of
you were stationed at originally, and he
was in too much pain to apparate himself
back."
"Are you saying he dragged himself all
the way there?"
"Probably. I had to stun him before
apparating because he was hexing every
which way at any noise he heard," Theo
shook his head, his eyebrows knitting
when Draco's Dark Mark continued
bleeding. "What the hell is that? What's
wrong with his Mark?"
"It's never done this before," Blaise
said. "Our Marks have been inactive
ever since we defected."
"Not his," Hermione spoke even without
realising. Her voice was soft and
strained, her eyes fixed on Draco as she
calmly healed his other wounds, fingers
shakily smoothing the frown on his face.
"His has been jet black all this time."
"Not faded?"
"No. Never."
"It's a very dark spell," Andromeda said
at last, pulling back from him. Her face
was wrought with worry as she looked
at Draco. Looked at Hermione looking at
Draco. She didn't know which of them
she worried more for. "I don't know
what it is, and I don't know how to fix it,
but he won't stop bleeding. I suspect it'll
keep bleeding for awhile until it
eventually ebbs away, but till then, just
keep feeding him blood-replenishing
potions. He's been hit with the Cruciatus
too - several times, in fact."
Harry returned with a tray of potions
then, a sliver of concern on his face.
"This is all we have," he told
Andromeda, "Grus is making more, but
we're running out of ingredients."
"I'll get some," Blaise volunteered,
summoning his wand and getting to his
feet. "Theo?"
"Yeah, I'm with you."
"Be careful, both of you," Andromeda
said, casting a worried glance at the two
Slytherins as their bags to head out. "Get
some chocolate too. It's a good counter
against Dark Magic injuries, and we
don't know what Draco's is."
Blaise nodded. "Got it. Take care of
him."
The two of them apparated off, leaving
Hermione and Harry with Andromeda.
"Okay," Andromeda took a step back,
pointing her wand at Draco. "I'm going
to revive him, and you two, make sure
you stop whatever spell comes out of his
mouth."
Hermione took position next to Draco,
with Harry on the other side. Andromeda
nodded at the two of them briefly before
casting the spell.
"Rennervate."
Draco silver eyes flew open the next
instant, unfocused and almost delirious.
A feral growl ripped from his throat as
he hurled himself upright, summoning his
wand silently and gripping it with a
murderous look on his face.
"Protego!" Andromeda cast a protective
shield on Harry and Hermione. "Stop
him!"
"Ava - "
Hermoine's hands clamped down on
Draco's mouth before the spell could be
finished. Harry wrapped his hands
tightly around Draco's wrist as
Andromeda kept a protective shield on
them, her eyes alert and frightened. She
knew that her nephew had done his fair
share of killing on the battlefield, but
she'd never actually seen him in action
before. He looked lethal, with killer
instincts that rivalled Bellatrix's.
"Draco!" Hermione gripped Draco's
face tightly, "look at me! Look at me!"
It took about three seconds for Draco's
attention to shift into focus. The glazed
look in his eyes cleared and he blinked.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, it's me. You're safe now."
"Fuck, Hermione," he exhaled shakily,
reaching up to slide his palms against the
smooth planes of her cheeks, fingers
sifting through her hair. His eyes
searched her face with a frantic
desperation that seemed almost
vulnerable from him. "Are you alright?
Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," she assured him, wrapping
her arms tight around his neck, her mind
shuttering as she inhaled him. Sweat,
soap, grit, comfort. All him. She pulled
away and eased him back down, even
though his fingers looped around hers,
thoroughly reluctant to let go.
Funny how the roles had reversed, and
Hermione was glad to be the strong one
this time.
"Draco," Andromeda came up to him,
handing him a blood-replenishing potion
and transfiguring a nearby towel into a
pillow, placing it under his head. "You
have to drink this. Your Mark won't stop
bleeding."
He didn't say a word as he accepted the
phial from Andromeda and chugged it
down. But once he finished the potion,
he glanced around, eyes alert and
searching. "Where're the others? Are
they safe?"
"Yes, they are," Hermione brushed his
hair out of his eyes, handing him another
phial that Andromeda passed to her.
"And Weaselette?"
"Ginny's fine, mate," Harry stepped
forward now, gratitude in his tone as he
nodded at Draco. "Thanks for saving her,
I owe you one."
In spite of his injuries, Draco's lips
twisted in a dry smirk. "You did save
Granger. I had to reciprocate the favour."
Harry smiled, a flicker of mutual
understanding exchanged between them
as they stared at each other. "I promised,
mate. Won't let anything happen to
'Mione again."
Andromeda smiled at them. "It's nice to
see the both of you finally getting along."
"This isn't getting along," Draco said
flatly. "I still think he's an aggravating
wank."
Andromeda's mouth fell open.
"Language, Draco! Teddy may hear!"
"Teddy deserves to know how much of a
wank his godfather is. And on that note,
'Dromeda, I cannot fucking believe you
chose Potter-wank to be Teddy's
godfather."
Harry rolled his eyes. "It's good to have
you back, ferret."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Tergeo."
The last of the blood from Draco's arm
vanished and Hermione leaned back,
relieved that his Dark Mark had stopped
bleeding. It had taken close to half an
hour, and Andromeda made sure that
Draco had enough potions to prevent him
from bleeding himself dry.
"Granger."
Hermione looked up at him. He'd been
sitting in silence for awhile now. When
Andromeda and Harry were still around,
he'd been his usual snarky, arrogant self.
But now that they were gone, he was
finally allowing the cracks of his
exhaustion to surface.
He plucked her wand neatly from her
fingers and set it down, before pulling
her close. Hermione went willingly,
sliding between his legs as he sat on the
edge of the table, letting him wrap his
arms around her.
"You had a panic attack, didn't you?" He
asked quietly, absentmindedly tangling
one of his fingers through a lock of her
stubborn curls.
"How did you know?"
"You're behaving the same way you did
back at Godric's Hollow."
And now Hermione finally allowed
herself to break, her calm composure
crumbling to pieces as she choked back
a sob against his chest. "I couldn't help
it," she mumbled, her voice muffled
against his shirt, "I thought I'd lost you."
His arms tightened around her and he
was silent for so long she began to
wonder if he'd heard her. But when he
finally spoke, his voice was just as
broken as hers. "Me too."
Hermione stayed in Draco's arms for a
few minutes, hardly wanting to let go
now that he was back. She knew that she
was a lot stronger than she had been
months ago, but there were times when
fear seized her heart and she found
herself spiralling back to the past.
It doesn't matter, she told herself now, so
long as he's here and I can pick myself
up again.
A sudden throat-clearing made the both
of them turn, only to see Harry and
Ginny standing by the doorway of the
kitchen. While Ginny was simply
surveying them with a general air of
amusement, Harry looked more than
awkward, looking anywhere but at them.
"Malfoy," Ginny greeted pleasantly,
running a hand through her dishevelled
hair and stepping towards them. "Just
wanted to thank you for saving my life -
again."
"Death must be going crazy knowing that
I helped you escape his clutches twice,"
Draco drawled, his signature smirk
spreading across his face as he surveyed
them lazily. "Well, you know what they
say - third time's a charm."
"Draco!" Hermione elbowed him in jest,
but when he let out a hiss of pain, she
immediately gasped. "Oh, Merlin, I'm so
sorry!"
"I'm fine," Draco muttered through
gritted teeth. Her elbows were actually
pointier than they looked - he hadn't
braced himself because he didn't think
they'd hurt so much, but clearly they
could. She picked up her wand, ignoring
Harry and Ginny completely in her
worry, but he pulled back. "Really, don't
worry about it, Granger. Go talk to your
friends."
"What, are we not your friends?" Ginny
sounded so affronted that both Hermione
and Harry had to stifle their grins.
"Don't take this the wrong way,
Weaselette, but no."
"Pity. I would love to see my brother's
face if I introduced you as my friend."
"That is tempting, but unfortunately, I
make it a rule of thumb not to get well
acquainted with anyone during a war,"
Draco's face was impassive, but there
was a hard edge in his tone, one that
warned her not to push.
"Ginny and I will be heading back
soon," Harry said, tactfully switching the
subject, "and we thought that since we'll
be passing by the headquarters anyway,
we could pass the documents we
retrieved to Shacklebolt."
Hermione followed Draco as he headed
out to the living room to retrieve all the
papers he'd collected. "Speaking of
heading back, Harry," she said, as she
and Draco sorted through the documents
on the coffee table, keeping the
important ones and discarding the rest.
"Where do you live?"
"The Burrow," Harry replied. "It's just a
couple of miles from here. It was
destroyed after the war but Ginny and I
fixed it."
"You are aware that a burrow is a
bloody hole dug by small animals like
rabbits, aren't you?" Draco muttered, not
looking at them as he scanned through
the papers.
Harry rolled his eyes and pointedly
ignored him. "Anyway, Ginny and I have
been living there for some years now,"
he explained to Hermione, who was
staring at him in fascination, clearly
having forgotten that bit of the past too.
"Ron and the other Weasleys are
scattered among the other Order's
bases."
"They do a lot of fighting, get into a lot
of battles," Ginny sighed. "They say it's
easiest to live with the other Order
members. The Burrow reminds Mum of
Fred, and she tries to stay away as much
as she can."
Hermione watched as a shadow crossed
Ginny's face briefly. Obviously, Fred's
death had wrecked the Weasley family.
She couldn't help but wonder how Ron
was coping.
Leaving the other three to sort through
the papers, Hermione reached for the
quill in her bag and set it on the floor.
Draco looked over at her and she
smiled. "Reverse the transfiguration on
this, please."
He quickly cast a wordless spell on it.
The quill instantly reversed back into its
original form and he raised his
eyebrows. "Granger, where did you get
that?" Something in his voice told her
that he knew exactly what it was.
"In one of the rooms. I figured it was
important since it was locked tight."
"Step away from that."
Hermione obligingly shifted closer to
him, her eyes wide. "What's in there?"
Draco cast a swift glance around,
noticing the way Harry and Ginny were
staring at him with matching expressions
of confusion and curiosity. Then he
looked at Hermione and sighed. "Fine,"
he held his wand up, muttering a
complex incantation underneath his
breath before drawing his wand in the
shape of an eight. "Morsmordre."
The Mark on the box lit up and the
catches opened with sharp clicks.
Draco's lips curled in a half-hearted
smirk when he saw the horrified look on
Harry's face. "Don't get your knickers in
a twist, Potter. There isn't a bloody Dark
Mark floating above 'Dromeda's house."
"Then why did you use that incantation?"
"Because this incantation can do many
other things besides conjuring Dark
Marks," Draco returned flatly, but he
didn't elaborate further. Instead, he
simply pushed up the lid, showing them
the array of potions within. Hermione
summoned Blaise's potion book from the
shelf nearby and flipped through it, her
mind buzzing with the familiar curiosity
she always had whenever learning
something new.
"Regeneration Potion," Ginny read the
label on one of the phials over Draco's
shoulder, shifting closer so she could get
a better look. "What's that for?"
"Ask Potter - he knows best."
At Draco's words, everyone turned to
Harry, who bit his lip, his green eyes
stormy with memories of the past. "It's
for wizards who've suffered bodily
damage. This restores them back to full
form."
"Oh, the Order definitely needs this,"
Ginny made to grab for the potion, but
Draco immediately gripped her wrist,
his fingers digging tight into her skin.
"Don't fucking touch that," his voice was
low.
"Yeah, Ginny, don't," Harry hastily
concurred, reaching over so he could
pull his girlfriend away. "It's a Dark
potion. You-Know-Who used it to return
to his full form when he tried to duel me
at Little Hangleton graveyard. During my
fourth year, remember?"
"Oh," Ginny quickly backed away from
it, her eyes wide. "Sorry. I didn't
realise."
"It's said that the potion is made from the
bone taken from the Dark Wizard's
father, the flesh willingly sacrificed from
one of his servants and the blood
forcibly extracted from one of his foes,"
Hermione read aloud, and looked up
from the book, turning her gaze to Harry.
"Did You-Know-Who extract blood
from you?"
"Yeah." Harry nodded slowly before
turning back to sorting the papers,
clearly not wanting to reminisce any
further.
Draco shut the box and locked it up
again. "We're not giving this to the
Order," he said flatly, pointedly ignoring
the blatant surprise from Ginny.
"Why?"
Draco shot her an impatient look.
"Because these are all Dark potions.
There's a fucking Rudimentary Body
potion in there that contains the venom of
Nagini. Do you really want your friends
in the Order to be drinking that?"
"So you're going to keep it? You? An ex
Death-Eater?"
"No," he returned mildly and got to his
feet. "Granger's going to keep it, since
she's our Healer anyway. Is that safe
enough for you, Weaselette?"
Without waiting for her reply, he headed
up the stairs; going straight to the room
he shared with Hermione on the third
floor. The day's activities had finally
exhausted him, and he kicked his shoes
off, throwing himself down on the bed.
Several moments later, the door opened
with a soft creak. Hermione stepped in
tentatively, shutting the door behind her
and murmuring the incantation for a
muffling charm under her breath. Then
she set her shoes aside as well, shrugged
out of her jacket and curled up on the
bed next to him. He draped a lazy arm
around her, pulling her in close.
"I'm sorry about what they said," she
said softly, after several minutes of
silence.
Draco kept his eyes shut, even though his
arm tightened around her. "It's fine,
Granger. I'm used to it. You don't have to
apologise for them."
"I just wish they wouldn't."
"I haven't exactly given them a reason to
trust me," he mumbled, looking
anywhere but at her. "I used Morsmordre
in front of them - you should've seen
Potter's face, he looked livid enough to
haul me off to Azkaban. Just give them
time, Granger." He sounded rather
amused now, his silver eyes twinkling as
he watched her. "I thought you were
supposed to be the rational, sensible
one."
"Oh, I am. But just because you use Dark
Magic and know about Dark Potions
doesn't make you a bad person."
He reached for her hand, pulling it up to
his lips and sponging heated kisses
across her knuckles. It was fire on ice;
his lips hot on her cold hands, igniting
her feverish nerves and making her
breath hitch accordingly. "I appreciate
that," he mused, looking rather satisfied
when he noticed the way her irises
darkened to an alluring, sentient brown.
"But I honestly don't give a fuck what
your friends think of me."
"Good," she leaned forward and pressed
her lips briefly against his, smiling when
his fingers tightened instinctively on her
hips. "Because you shouldn't."
His lips curved and he was just about to
reply when he paused. "Hold on," he
blinked, as though suddenly
remembering something. "I've got
something to give to you."
"What is it?"
"One second."
His hand left her hips and reached into
his pocket. Hermione grinned, suddenly
remembering a conversation she had
with the three other Slytherins some days
ago. "Draco, if you bring out an erection,
I'm not going to be very impressed," she
deadpanned.
Draco's eyes widened fractionally in
sheer surprise before narrowing, trying
to keep a straight face despite the fact
that his lips were twitching in
amusement. "Who taught you that?"
"No one. Gryffindors can be very
mouthy."
"I can see that," he swiftly captured her
lips in a heated kiss, his hand reaching
back up to sink his fingers into her mess
of curls. All Hermione could register at
that moment was the heavy clash of his
breath on her skin as he completely stole
her breath away - and she thought, not
just my breath, but my heart, everything -
but then he was dragging away far too
soon, eyes searing with heat when she
let out a disappointed whimper beneath
him.
"But," he continued mildly, "that
statement was too crude and Slytherin
for you." He paused, eyes gleaming
challengingly. "Was it Pansy?"
"Theo."
"I knew it." And then Draco blinked
almost warily. "Why was Theo talking
about me?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, even though
her cheeks promptly reddened. "He
wasn't talking about you. He was just
telling us what he did to one of his slags.
Apparently, he told the girl that he was
going to show her - and I quote - 'a
prized jewel like none other', and she
believed him, so he went ahead and
unzipped his pants."
Draco groaned, wishing he hadn't asked
for an explanation to begin with. "For
fuck's sake."
"Apparently, it worked really well too.
She was really drunk though, so I think
that might've been a contributing factor,"
Hermione added, with a faint wrinkle of
her nose, before looking up at him.
"Okay, so what did you want to give
me?"
Draco's mood immediately grew serious
as he reached into his pocket. He found
the stone that he'd nicked from the room
back at the Ruins earlier and placed it
into Hermione's hand, closing her fingers
over it.
Hermione slowly unfurled her fingers,
shifting so that she could examine it
properly. When she had finally gotten a
better look at it, her eyes widened. "Is
that - "
"The Resurrection Stone?" He nodded,
keeping his eyes fixed on the silver
piece. "I didn't realise what it was when
I picked it up. But when I was fighting
the Death-Eaters earlier, I remembered
what you showed me in the book that
'Dromeda sent you for Christmas."
"Wait, so the Peverells already had
this?"
Draco exhaled. Ever since defecting, he
hadn't bothered himself with the
Peverells. Knowing that the Cloak was
safe with Hermione was sufficient,
because that meant the three Deathly
Hallows would never be united. "I think
so," he said slowly. "The room I found it
in can only be accessed by the Death-
Eaters closest to the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix and I have full access, but so
do MacNair and Dolohov and a couple
of others. Since MacNair's part of the
Peverells, I have no doubt that he placed
the Stone there for safe-keeping
purposes, only to retrieve it once he's
found the other two Deathly Hallows."
"So we have two out of three?"
"You have two out of three. I gave you
the Cloak, now you have the Stone."
Hermione bit her lip. "This isn't safe,
Draco," she murmured, sounding rather
anxious. "The book said that whoever
possesses all three becomes the Master
of Death. Why don't you keep the Stone,
since I already have the Cloak?"
"Can't," and he shut his eyes briefly. His
voice was barely inaudible and
Hermione had to strain her ears to hear
him. "The Stone brings back people from
the dead. And I have too many dead
people I want to see alive again."
Hermione didn't argue with him after
that. Sliding the Stone into the pocket of
her shorts, she shifted closer and
wrapped an arm around him, placing her
fingers flat on the planes of his firm
chest, just above his heart and feeling the
unsteady thuds within.
Each beat seemed more broken than the
previous.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

She found him by the Pensieve again that

night, his wand lighting a dim glow in
the room.
Draco was calmer this time and lifted
his head when she slid her palm up his
back. "Missing her again?" She asked
him, stepping close and leaning her head
against his shoulder, staring at the grey
mist within the basin.
He wrapped an arm around waist,
bracing his other hand on the rim of the
Pensieve. "Everyday." He was silent for
a moment, and then he looked at her. "Do
you want to see it?"
"Really?" Hermione couldn't quite keep
the surprise from her voice. Draco was
always so closed-off, and the memories
in the phials were some of his most
guarded secrets. She was more than
flattered that he allowed her to see them.
He shifted aside. "Go ahead."
She sneaked another glance at him, and
he nodded. So she went in. It felt like
apparition, or being pulled to a different
place by a Portkey. A convoluted haze of
memories before the Pensieve finally
settled on one.
Within seconds, she found herself
transported to the Malfoy Manor, and
she was standing by the window,
watching a regal, blond woman stare at
her son through the stately windows.
Draco, young Draco, a fair blonde
barely six years old, was playing in the
vast field all alone. Hermione felt a tug
in her chest at the sight of that.
The blond woman was murmuring to
herself and Hermione inched closer,
straining her ears to hear what she said.
She was whispering protections,
chanting them over and over again like
an age-old mantra. And then she pressed
her palm flat against the window, eyes
glistening as she stared out at her son.
"I wish you knew how much I love you,"
she said, her voice barely audible.
"Narcissa." The woman straightened and
whirled around. A tall, broad-
shouldered man with a hard face
descended the stairs, eyeing her with
disapproval. "I told you not to coddle
him. He knows you're standing there.
Just leave him alone, he's fine."
The next few memories ran along the
same lines. Draco left alone to his own
devices. Draco studying alone. Draco
reading in the vast library alone. Draco
wandering through the Malfoy Manor
alone. Alone, alone, alone.
And then Narcissa was seeing him off at
Hogwarts, and this time, he pulled away
from her when she held her arms out.
"I'm fine, mother, I'll see you when term
ends."
"Write to me, Draco."
Eleven-year old Draco ignored her and
pushed his luggage cart down the
platform. He never wrote to her or his
father. Then there were tea parties,
lavish afternoons with the tittering of
nosy, rich ladies who thrived on nothing
but gossip. Narcissa Malfoy sat in the
centre of it all, but there was talk -
"Oh, Narcissa Malfoy - yes, wife of
Lucius Malfoy, she's a beauty but just a
trophy wife."
"Not quite, I hear Lucius Malfoy dotes
on his wife and son quite a lot."
"Nevertheless - I hear her sister is in
Azkaban and her other sister married a
Mudblood!"
Narcissa Malfoy blocked them out. She
had a loving husband and a wonderful
son and they were all that mattered to
her. But fast-forward years later, and the
man with the serpentine eyes and
hollowed-out soul was sitting in her
living room, her house, with her family.
"Lucius," she pleaded to him in the
hallway, once the Silencing charms were
set. "I beg you, don't do this to Draco."
"Now, Narcissa - "
"You know he cannot do this! I refuse to
let my son, my son - "
"Mother, do be quiet," Draco was
standing in the hallway now, his frame
tall and broad just like his father's. "I
want to do this. It's all I've ever
wanted."
And his father clapped him on the back
and smiled proudly, and Draco's eyes lit
in sheer happiness. Not of what he was
about to do, but because he finally had
the acknowledgement of his father. Then
Narcissa Malfoy was watching the man
with the serpentine eyes scar her son
with the Dark Mark. She cried that night
in one of the bathrooms. Lucius didn't
hear her. Nor did Draco. She never cried
again after that night.
There were meetings after that, Death-
Eaters skulking around the Malfoy
Manor. Her house was invaded by evil
and goodness no longer preceded. Her
sister Bellatrix's laugh echoed down the
hallways as she trained Draco, day in,
day out. Draco at breakfast with
bloodshot eyes and a haggard frame.
Draco in the library staring at the Dark
Mark on his arm. Draco sitting by the
window ledge in the middle of the night,
looking out, never in.
Narcissa made to go to him but was
stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.
"No, Narcissa," Lucius's face gave no
room for argument. "Leave him. He
needs to learn."
Narcissa found herself standing in front
of Draco's room one night. She pressed
her ear against the door and heard him
scream. "Lumos," she whispered and her
wand lit. She went in, only to find Draco
tossing and turning on his bed, waist
deep in a nightmare that made all of
Hermione's seem to pale in comparison.
Hermione watched as Narcissa hovered
near Draco for a moment, before tapping
her wand to his forehead.
"Legilimens."
Several memories later, Hermione found
herself in an unfamiliar room. Bellatrix's
eyes were gleaming in the dark as she
watched Severus Snape and Narcissa
murmur among themselves. Hermione
took a step closer as Narcissa took
Snape's hand.
"...will you carry out the deed that the
Dark Lord has ordered Draco to
perform?"
"I will."
A strange magic surged forth from
Bellatrix's wand and sealed their hands.
The moment the spell was cast, Narcissa
snatched her hand away and swept out of
the room. And then Narcissa was
watching Draco as he stood outside the
Manor several days later, surrounded by
other Death-Eaters.
Narcissa pressed her palm against the
window and shut her eyes. "Still love
you."
It was a flurry of hazed memories after
that. Narcissa Malfoy sat in the hall with
the other Death-Eaters, the only one
without a Dark Mark engraved on her
arm. Deaths and more deaths. Screaming
from the cellar. Then Hermione saw a
younger version of herself being tortured
by Bellatrix, what were the words now?
Narcissa stepped closer to peer over
Bellatrix's shoulder -

M UD B LO O D

"Please," rasped the younger Hermione,

almost delirious with pain, her eyes
fixed on Narcissa. "Please save me."
Narcissa blinked, turned away and left
the room. Several memories and a
plethora of Crucios later, Hermione saw
a frail, aged Narcissa standing by the
window. Then Draco was behind her,
his shoulders hunched and face
unguarded. "Mother?"
Narcissa turned. And Draco spoke the
two words that Hermione had never
heard from him before, never thought
possible to hear from him before:
"I'm scared."
Narcissa's arms were around Draco in
an instant. And her arms were around
him when he continued to have
nightmares night after night. She gave
him her wand and Lucius gave his to the
man with the serpentine eyes - but they
were powerful and didn't need their
wands to do magic. They managed well
on their own. And then Narcissa was
trekking through the forest with Lucius
and the other Death-Eaters, her dark
skirts swishing against the battered
leaves and foliage.
"Is he alive?" Narcissa was whispering
now, as she leaned over Harry Potter,
her hand over his heart. "Draco, is he
alive?"
"Yes," breathed Harry.
Narcissa got to her feet, turning to face
the other Death-Eaters and the man with
the serpentine eyes. They were all
waiting to know the fate of Harry Potter.
"He is dead."
But Harry Potter was not dead. There
was chaos thereafter; hexes and spells
flew in every different direction as
Hermione watched Narcissa and Lucius
charge through the foray in search for
Draco. Moments later, Harry Potter had
lost the battle with a resounding
explosion as McGonagall barely
managed to save his life with a powerful
shield.
Narcissa pulled her husband into a
secret alcove, amidst the celebratory
cheers and shouts from the other Death-
Eaters. "Find Draco and keep him safe -
"
"Narcissa, the Dark Lord will come for
you, for us." Lucius's indifferent façade
had crumbled to pieces now. "The three
of us can leave this place and we'll be
safe."
"We will never be safe and we can
never run from him!" She took his hands
in hers. "It's alright, Lucius. I made my
choice. And I love you," she met his
gaze softly, "But you must find Draco
and protect him - "
"Narcissa - "
"Keep him safe, Lucius. No matter what
the cost."
Narcissa vanished in the blink of an eye,
and Hermione had a mere second to see
the broken look on Lucius's face - far too
similar to Draco's - before she found
herself dragged into another memory.
"Lumos," the wand was lit and Narcissa
was staring at a photo frame in the
hallway, with an empty phial in her other
hand. The halls of the Malfoy Manor
was silent, so silent that Hermione
thought she could almost hear Narcissa's
heart racing.
"I made my choice," Narcissa repeated
to herself, but her shoulders were
quaking in fear. "I'm afraid. But this is
what I have to do. Love you," she
pressed her fingers to her lips, before
reaching up, touching her fingers briefly
to the older blonde man in the
photograph. Then she did the same to the
younger one. "Love you too. Always."
She stared at the moving photograph for
awhile before turning away. And then
Hermione practically raced after
Narcissa as the older woman headed
down the hallway at a rapid pace, her
dark skirts sweeping across the dusty
floors.
"Nox."
And the light in Narcissa Malfoy's wand
was extinguished, and so was she.
The last of Narcissa's memories faded
away when Hermione lifted her head
from the Pensieve. Draco was seated on
the ledge by the window as he waited
for her, his face illuminated by the
moonlight as he studied the phials in his
hands. The moment she shifted away
from the Pensieve, he looked up.
"Done?"
Hermione nodded and went to him. His
arm readily looped around her waist and
she rest her head against his shoulder.
"What happened to your mother after the
battle?"
Draco dragged in a deep breath. "She
stayed at the Malfoy Manor for some
days," his voice so quiet that Hermione
had to strain her ears to hear him. "And
when the Dark Lord found her, she just
turned herself in. She knew she was
going to die, and she wasn't afraid."
"She was a very brave woman,"
Hermione said, feeling her chest tighten
at the pain in Draco's voice. "She saved
my life. And so did you."
He shifted his head so that his lips
pressed against her forehead briefly, but
he didn't say a word. Hermione sat there
in the silence with him as minutes and
hours ticked by, feeling his fingers
intertwine and untangle from hers, again
and again and again. Draco finally fell
asleep with his head against her
shoulder, blonde hair tickling the edge of
her collarbone.
And Hermione wrapped her arms around
him and stared at the wand next to the
Pensieve.
"Nox."
39 | immobulus

39
i mmo b ul us
Renders living targets immobile.

It was Luna who told them about the

party.
The blonde witch had apparated back to
the house several days later, a cheerful
smile on her face as she slipped into an
empty chair at the table. "Everyone in
the Order's really excited to have you
back," she said to Hermione, who gave a
faint smile in return, "and you too."
This was directed at Harry, who had
come over to Andromeda's for breakfast
with Ginny. In fact, the two came over
on an almost daily basis. Draco was
dreading the day that Andromeda would
ask them to move in too, which could
only be a matter of time now.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Me?" He
asked, almost sceptically, "why're they
excited about having me?"
"You haven't been fighting with the
Order for a long time, Harry,"
Andromeda said softly. "I think they've
all been waiting for you to make a return
for awhile now."
Luna agreed. "So the D.A. is throwing a
party - "
"D.A.?" Pansy frowned in confusion.
Theo and Blaise looked equally puzzled.
"Dumbledore's Army," Ginny explained,
before shooting a pointed look at Draco.
"The same group that Draco and Delores
Umbridge tried to demolish during our
fifth year. Too bad they couldn't."
Draco threw her a frosty glare and
continued eating.
"Dumbledore's Army, huh?" Theo shook
his head. "That's a bloody tacky name."
"Hermione came up with it."
"Oh, makes sense, Red always comes up
with tacky things like that - ow, fuck!"
Theo winced when Hermione kicked
him under the table. "Draco, mate,
control your girlfriend!"
Draco simply reached over to steal a
slice of ham from Theo's plate and
placed it on Hermione's. "Don't bring me
into this."
"Anyway," continued Luna, brightly,
"they'll be glad to see all of you
tomorrow night."
An awkward silence descended upon the
table. While Ginny looked excited about
being reunited with her friends, Harry
and Hermione looked far less
enthusiastic. And the Slytherins seemed
completely disinterested.
"Okay, first of all," Theo was the first to
break the silence, and he held out his
fork, pointing it at Luna while he talked,
"inviting four strangers to a party is bad
enough. Second of all, inviting four
Slytherins to a party with members of the
other houses is far worse. And to take
the icing off the bloody cake - do
remember that you're inviting four
Death-Eaters to a party with people
who've been fighting on the opposite
side for three years. What are we
supposed to say? 'Hi, nice party; by the
way, I killed your relative because the
Dark Lord told me to!'"
Draco wordlessly cast a Silencio on
Theo before he could say anything else.
Ginny and Harry now looked thoroughly
uncomfortable, while Luna was biting
her lip.
Andromeda cleared her throat delicately.
"Theo, you don't have to go if you don't
want to - "
"That's good," Theo's lips curled in
satisfaction as he leaned back in his
chair lazily. "'Cause I'm not going."
" - but you're wrong to say that no other
Slytherin will be there. If I'm not
mistaken, I do believe that Tracey Davis
and Daphne Greengrass joined the Order
some months ago. They'll probably be
there."
"Yes, they will," Luna quickly affirmed.
Pansy leaned forward, her eyes
sparkling with interest. "Tracey and
Daphne? Really?" She exchanged a look
with Blaise before looking over at Theo.
"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Theo. You
know Tracey and Daphne, don't you?"
"I know them well," mused Theo, amidst
a chorus of disgusted noises from the
others. "But so does Draco, by the way -
ow, fuck!" He doubled up when he felt
another half-hearted kick under the table.
"Control yourself, Malfoy!"
Hermione winked. "Actually, that wasn't
him, that was me again. If Draco really
wanted to hurt you, he would've killed
you," she added, with a teasing laugh.
Draco raised his mug of coffee and
smirked, intertwining his fingers through
hers under the table. "Definitely the
brightest witch of our age."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Theodore Nott, for the millionth time,

get your lazy arse of the sofa and come
with us!" Pansy yelled from across the
hall. After much convincing, she had
finally worn Hermione down, who
reluctantly agreed to go to the party.
Blaise hadn't required much convincing
on his part - he was just as eager to see
Tracey and Daphne as she was. Draco
had only agreed to go because Hermione
was, quite frankly, terrified of meeting
all her old friends.
So that left Theo.
Lazy, devil-may-care Theo, who didn't
budge an inch, despite all her yelling.
"I'm not going!" Theo hollered back
stubbornly. "Teddy and I are going to go
to bed at nine tonight, and Andromeda is
going tuck us in, read a story and then
sing lullabies to us!"
"No, Andromeda's not!" Andromeda
called from the kitchen.
Hermione heard all the commotion
outside and grinned, shaking her head in
mirth. She was in the bedroom she
shared with Draco, but she'd asked him
to leave so that she could dress herself.
And as she stared at the dress Pansy had
Transfigured for her, she couldn't help
but feel nervous.
"Granger?" A knock came on the door. It
was Draco. "Are you done? Pansy's
yelling my bloody ear off and Blaise is
having an aneurysm because we're late."
In spite of her nerves, Hermione
laughed. "Almost done!" Taking a deep
breath, she pressed a palm flat against
the mirror, staring at her reflection. "It's
going to be fine," she whispered, feeling
apprehension coursing through her veins
as she noticed the fear in her eyes.
"Draco will be there. It'll be fine."
Truth be told, she was still wondering if
it was the best decision. Meeting
Neville, Harry and Ginny had already
taken its toll on her - she just wasn't sure
if she could handle seeing everyone else
all at once.
Shoving her fears aside for the moment,
she picked up her wand and headed
towards the door. Draco was leaning
against the wall beside the room, his
blonde hair and fair skin a stark contrast
with the black blazer and pants he had
on. He glanced up the moment she
stepped out, hair falling into his eyes
carelessly as stared at her.
For a moment, he seemed to fumble for a
coherent response, and Hermione smiled
at his reaction. But when he opened his
mouth to speak, she held up a finger to
stop him. "One moment, please," she
said, directing her wand at her black
dress. "Colovaria."
The dress instantly lightened to an
iridescent midnight green, the same
shade of the jumper that she'd knitted for
him as a Christmas present. His silver
eyes gleamed and he closed the gap
between them, gripping her hips firmly
and pulling her flush against him. "You
look beautiful in green," he mumbled,
punctuating each word with a soft kiss
on her lips. "I don't know what the
bloody Sorting Hat was thinking putting
you in Gryffindor."
Hermione smiled up at him, looping her
arms around his neck and pulling his
head down so that his lips now met hers
firmly. Her tongue traced the seam of his
lips; an instinctive action that mirrored
what he'd done several times before, and
felt her stomach tighten deliciously when
a muffled groan escaped his throat. He
let her in, and she let her tongue
intertwine with his, experimentally,
boldly, matching his feverish kisses as
her heart hammered in her chest.
"Hermione!" Pansy's yell came from two
floors below but effectively ruined the
moment all the same.
Draco reluctantly pulled away, leaning
his forehead against hers as he fought to
catch his breath. "We should go."
Hermione frowned in disappointment,
before a wicked grin curled on her lips.
"Or we could just forget about the party.
I believe I haven't showed you how
fantastic I look in red yet, which you
will find out if you look under - "
He hit her with a wordless Silencio
before swearing under his breath. "You,
Ms Granger, are turning into a wicked
minx before my eyes and you need to
stop having these conversations with
Pansy," he said firmly, and removed the
Silencing charm.
"Actually, it was 'Dromeda," she said,
her smile widening when he swore
again.
"You need to stop having these kind of
conversations with my Aunt too."
Hermione began to laugh, but a series of
yells from below made the two of them
exchange startled glances, before rushing
down the stairs. The sight that greeted
them in the living room was almost
comical - Blaise was holding Theo
down while Pansy was mumbling an
incantation under her breath, pointing her
wand in their direction. And Theo
himself was yelling in horror as his
clothes slowly transformed into a casual
suit that was clearly meant for the party.
Andromeda was holding Teddy in the
corner and the two looked thoroughly
entertained, Teddy babbling happily in
her arms.
"Don't just stand there, mate!" Theo
yelled at Draco, "help me!"
"My apologies," Draco said swiftly,
heading towards them with Hermione in
tow. He pointed the wand at Theo.
"Colovaria."
Instantly, Theo's suit turned a brilliant
shade of crimson that practically
sparkled. Blaise and Pansy doubled up
laughing, while Theo unleashed a series
of expletives that sent Andromeda
hurrying out of the room with Teddy.
Hermione chuckled. Feeling a pang of
sympathy for Theo, she pushed Draco
aside and held out her hand. "I'll stay
with you the whole night, promise."
Theo quirked an eyebrow at her. "Can I
take the piss out of Gryffindors and
Hufflepuffs?"
"Only to me. And I promise not to say a
word about it."
"Deal."
They shook and Hermione held her wand
up to him. "Colovaria."
The suit darkened to a nondescript grey
that made Theo grin in satisfaction.
"Thanks, Red."
Blaise nudged Draco, looking at him in
amusement. "Did your girlfriend just
ditch you for Theo over there?"
"Apparently so," Draco muttered, but
when Hermione looked over at him, her
eyes bright with laughter and lips
curving in a warm smile, he understood
perfectly why Hermione seemed to have
all four of them wrapped around her
finger.
It wasn't just him - Blaise, Pansy and
Theo would do anything for Hermione
Granger. It was the light on her face and
the fact that she was just pure goodness
in a cruel world. They were attracted to
her goodness even though she made them
feel pure evil sometimes, but the fact that
she liked them made them realise that
they were not completely lost.
Not yet, at least.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The party was hosted in one of the

bigger rooms of the Order's
headquarters. Luna, who had dropped by
Andromeda's house and was now
leading them to the party, told them that
the D.A. had planned this for days.
"They've been really excited to see
Hermione," Luna was saying, as she held
her lighted wand out to pave the way for
them. The path leading to the Order's
headquarters was dark, and Draco kept
his eyes and ears peeled the whole time
for any signs of imminent danger. It was
a war. You never let your guard down.
"Ever since Neville told them that
Hermione was back, they've been asking
to see her," Luna continued, throwing a
brief glance over her shoulder to talk to
the five behind her. "But McGonagall's
given strict orders that no one visit
Andromeda's unless invited."
"That's funny," Theo drawled. "You've
shown up dozens of times uninvited."
"I know, I just find myself there
sometimes," Luna returned cheerily.
"The D.A.'s really impressed by the
work you guys have done - rescuing
Ginny, helping McGonagall, and even
getting Harry back on the field. I think
you'll all be welcomed with open arms."
But Luna was overly optimistic as usual.
Because the moment the four Slytherins
and Hermione stepped through the doors,
they heard a sudden hush descend upon
the room, the atmosphere thicken to
something akin to unease and suspicion.
Hermione instinctively sidled closer to
Draco and slipped her hand through his.
"Hermione?"
Someone pushed their way through the
crowd - a redhead that could hardly be
mistaken for anyone other than a member
of the Weasley family. But not just any
member of the Weasley family - this
particular Weasley had bright blue eyes,
freckles dotting his face and strode
towards them with an expression torn
between astonishment and disbelief.
Pansy sucked in a breath. "Is that - "
"Oh, this'll be good," Theo chuckled
under his breath, as Harry and Ginny
hastily rushed after Ron, matching looks
of panic on their faces.
Ronald Weasley stopped several feet in
front of them, staring at Hermione like he
could hardly believe that she was real.
"Hermione?" He repeated, shaking his
head. "I was away for weeks and no one
told me you were back! I can't believe
it's really you!"
Draco relaxed his grip on Hermione
then, even though his heart was
screaming at him not to. But the more
rational side of him knew that she was
more than capable of making her own
decisions, and that she'd chosen him.
Only Hermione made the mistake of
glancing briefly at him before turning
back to Ron. And the expression on
Ron's face immediately darkened, but
she didn't notice. Instead, she stepped
forward and smiled hesitantly, holding
up a hand for him to shake.
"Hi, Ron. It's great to see you again," she
murmured, but her eyes widened when
she finally saw the look on his face. She
withdrew her hand, instinctively shifting
towards Draco again.
Ron's eyes darted between Hermione
and Draco several times before finally
landing on her. He swallowed roughly,
his voice promptly taking on a sharp
edge to it. "What's going on?"
Theo sniggered. "Well, dear Weasley, let
me explain - " His words were promptly
cut off when Blaise pulled him back,
Pansy casting a wordless Silencing
charm on him.
"Ron, mate," Harry stepped forward, his
calm voice attempting to diffuse the
tension in a placating manner. "There's
something you need to know. Malfoy
found Hermione some months ago and
she's been living with him, Theo, Blaise
and Pansy ever since. They're now
living at Andromeda's."
Ron's face turned an alarming shade of
red and Draco had to forcibly push
down the urge to keep his mouth shut,
instead of making a snarky comment
which he was certain wouldn't be
appreciate at a time like this. The other
D.A. members were already regarding
them with suspicion, some of them
looking ready to step in and start hexing
whenever necessary.
"She's been living with Death-Eaters?"
Blaise stepped-forward, holding a hand
back to prevent Theo from doing
anything rash. "Defected Death-Eaters."
"The same one who stood there and
watched his bloody Aunt torture and then
carve the word Mudblood on
Hermione's arm! He watched and didn't
do a single bloody thing the whole time!
Or have we all forgotten that?"
Draco noticed Hermione shifting her
scarred arm behind her back self-
consciously and rapidly lost his temper.
"Don't fucking go there, Weasel," he
snapped, "you know I didn't have a
choice - "
"You were a bloody coward!"
"Ron!" Hermione's eyes were wide. "I
remember that but it doesn't matter now."
"Doesn't matter - Merlin, what happened
to you?"
Ginny laid a hand on her brother's
shoulder. "There's something else you
should know, Ron," she swallowed, as
though the words were difficult to get
out. "About Hermione, she doesn't, um,
well, you see - "
"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione hastily
said, stepping forward to explain it
herself. She met Ron's gaze firmly,
despite the fact that her heart was racing.
"The truth is - I've lost a lot of my
memories. I was captured, and the
Death-Eaters - "
"Them?" Ron's eyes darted to the four
Slytherins behind her.
"No, not them!" Hermione fervently
shook her head. "Other Death-Eaters,
they used the Cruciatus on me for about -
" she paused, eyes shutting briefly as she
took a deep breath, " - three years, until
Draco found me. And I think the curses
broke my mind and I've forgotten a lot of
things since then."
Ron's eyes were guarded. "Hermione,
what're you saying? Did you forget us?"
"I - "
"You forgot about me?"
Hermione fell a step back. "I didn't mean
to! I forgot about Harry, and a lot of
other people and things that happened! I
just have more distinct memories of
some people and less distinct ones of
others."
"More distinct memories?" Ron
repeated, looking ready to explode. He
firmly shook off Harry and Ginny's pleas
for him to keep his cool. "Are you saying
you actually remember some people but
not Harry or me? Or any of the things we
did?"
Hermione twisted her hands in worry.
"It's not that simple - "
"You said you remembered Malfoy
watching Bellatrix torture you. So you
remembered that? You actually
remember Malfoy the bloody ferret?"
Hermione's hesitance was answer
enough, and Ron's eyes flashed in fury.
"You remember the person who tortured
you and made your life hell for years,
and who was willing to watch you die
because he and his worthless parents
were too useless - "
Ron was cut off when someone hurled
forward, holding a wand up to his neck.
But it wasn't Draco who had moved, or
even the hot-headed Theo. Instead, it
was Pansy, whose lips were curled with
an anger that rivalled his.
"I dare you to finish your sentence," she
hissed, digging the tip of the wand
against his skin. "Try it. I promise that
you'll be hexed into oblivion by three
Slytherins who would do anything to
defend Draco's honour."
Draco almost laughed at the sliver of
fear in Ron's eyes. "Pansy," he shook his
head subtly at his friend and she
reluctantly withdrew her wand, still
glaring daggers at Ron. Then Draco
stepped towards Ron, ignoring the way
the other D.A. members all stiffened,
some of them raising their wands
defensively.
"Weasel," he dragged the syllables out
belligerently, smirking at the way Ron's
began to lose his temper all over again.
Really, it was too fucking easy. "I need a
word with you. In private," he turned
and pointed at Harry, whose eyes
widened. "And you too."
Ron's eyes narrowed, his hands fisted by
his side. "If you're going to kill us - "
"If I wanted to, you would be dead by
now."
"Harry," Ron nudged his best friend,
aggravated when Harry didn't say a
word. "You can't be seriously
considering it!"
Harry seemed to falter, but when Draco
looked at him pointedly, his eyes
widened as he suddenly realised what it
was about. "Ron, I think we should.
There's far too many people here and
this is really important."
"I'll even take Malfoy's wand," Ginny
offered. She turned to Draco, who rolled
his eyes and placed the wand in her
hands.
Ron, however, didn't look convinced.
"But - "
"It's okay, Ron," Hermione's interjection
surprised all of them. She stared at him
softly and nodded. "Draco won't hurt
you. You know that I'll never forgive him
if he does. I punched him once and I can
definitely give a repeat of that
performance if necessary. Right,
Draco?" She turned to the blonde
wizard, who mumbled some sort of
vague agreement in return.
Ron seemed to marginally relax at her
words, his eyes crinkling at the corners
in faint nostalgia as he recalled that
incident. But then Harry was tugging him
towards the balcony where Draco had
headed off to, and there was no time to
reminisce about the past anymore.
The moment Harry and Ron were
outside, Draco held up a hand towards
the door. "Colloportus." The doors
swung shut, and he wordlessly cast a
muffling charm on it, before raising an
eyebrow at the other two. "Don't even
think about hitting me in the back with a
spell just because I'm wandless."
Ron scowled. "What the hell do you
want, Ferret?"
"Glad to see we're still so chummy, but I
see you're dying to stuff your face with
food as usual so I'll get right to the
point."
He paused, looking intently at Ron, who
suddenly seemed somewhat nervous.
Harry was deathly silent, the expression
on his face anxious.
"Three years ago, right after the Dark
Lord won the battle, Hermione Granger
was hit by a spell and fell off Potter's
broom," Draco said, in his calmest
voice, before going in for the kill. "Did
you or did you not use Obliviate on
her?"
40 | obliviate

40
obliviate

Erases memory.

Ron stuttered.
And while Draco normally took pleasure
in watching the Weasel squirm, he felt
nothing along those lines now. Harry's
eyes were wide and he looked
thoroughly taken aback by the
unexpectedness of Draco's question.
"I - " Ron seemed unable to find the right
words to say. "It's not - I mean..."
Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "You
know I could easily use Legilimency on
you to find out the truth."
"Merlin, you're such a bloody prick!"
"Then answer my question," Draco shot
back mildly.
"Malfoy," Harry intervened, looking
rather uncomfortable now. "Stop pushing
him. Ron wouldn't do such a thing, right,
mate?"
But the moment he met Ron's gaze, the
redhead instantly broke down. "Fine, I
did it!" He blurted, sounding truly
distressed now, his face the same shade
of red that his hair was. "It was me,
alright? I was the one who used
Obliviate on Hermione!"
And there it was.
The silence that ensued after Ron's
confession was riddled with taut,
excruciating tension. Draco was
practically digging his nails into his
palms to prevent himself from punching
Ron square in the face, even though that
option seemed highly desirable at the
moment. But he had agreed not to hurt
Ron. Sodding Malfoy-name and their
bloody code of honour.
"You what?" Harry was the first to break
the silence.
"I used Obliviate on Hermione," Ron
muttered, looking rather shamefaced
now. "I was some distance away when I
saw her fall off your broom, and I saw
her being caught by one of the Death-
Eaters far below - "
"Wait," Draco interrupted him bluntly,
his posture suddenly rigid at the
prospect of new information. "Who was
the Death-Eater?"
"Like I can remember - "
"Think, Weasel!"
A frown etched itself on Ron's forehead
as he tried to remember. "Male,
definitely...blonde - not your father," he
added, when Draco visibly flinched, "I
would remember your bloody father
anywhere. Wasn't your father."
"Good enough," Draco nodded. He
wasn't entirely sure, based on Ron's
sparse description, but he had a faint
inkling it was Yaxley, with his hard,
blunt features and blond hair that was
perpetually tied back. "Carry on."
Ron scowled at Draco's order. "So,
yeah, I saw Hermione being captured
and I tried to chase after the Death-Eater,
I really did. But when I couldn't catch
up, I just erased her memories."
"I don't understand," Harry shook his
head slowly, looking at Ron with faint
hostility, as if he couldn't recognised his
friend anymore. "Why, Ron? Why would
you do that?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"No." Draco couldn't help it. It was
almost in his nature to be a prick to the
Weasel, even though he could vaguely
guess the reason for Ron erasing
Hermione's memories. It had to be the
same reason that Pansy and Blaise
erased the memories of some of the
Order members some months ago.
"I panicked, alright?" Ron sighed,
passing a frustrated hand through his
hair. "I panicked, and I figured if
Hermione didn't know anything, maybe
she wouldn't be tortured for information.
So even if they used Legilimency on her,
they wouldn't find out a thing - "
"Hold on a second," Draco's voice was
sharp, and he stared at Ron intently. "Did
you Obliviate her memories to save her
or to save yourself and the rest of the
bloody Order?"
The beat of hesitation from Ron's end
was answer enough.
The blood was pounding in Draco's ears
and a feral growl ripped past his throat
as he lunged forward; ready to pummel
the bloody Weasel to the ground. There
wasn't any semblance of rationality left;
just pure, avenging fury coursing through
his veins, the same kind he felt whenever
he faced his father after the war.
But then Harry had reached over,
clamping his hands down firmly on
Draco's shoulders to drag him away.
"Malfoy, you promised Hermione you
wouldn't do anything!" Harry warned,
when Draco tried to push him away.
"Let's just talk this through."
"Fucking fine." Draco roughly shrugged
him away. He glared daggers at Ron,
who was looking sufficiently frightened,
even though his posture was tense as
though bracing himself for a fight.
"Ron," Harry sighed wearily, clearly
finding it difficult to manage two entirely
volatile people. "Please explain
yourself."
Ron nodded, looking more subdued now.
"It was for both of those reasons. I
already said that I didn't want Hermione
to be tortured for information, but
Obliviating her memories would prevent
You-Know-Who from finding out
anything about the Order. I kept the
Order safe - do you even know how
many more of us would be killed if You-
Know-Who had found out our hideouts?"
Harry looked rather unsure now. "Well,
it does make sense," he conceded at last,
albeit reluctantly, before glancing at
Draco. "Ron was just doing it for the
greater good."
"Yes - except he did a shite job at it,"
Draco said coldly, throwing a frosty
look at Ron. "You don't use Obliviate
unless you are fully confident in it,
Weasel. You erased her memories so
poorly that if the Death-Eaters used
Legilimency on her, they could still
recover some parts of her memory. But it
wasn't fucking good enough for them, so
they used the Cruciatus curse on her."
Ron went white. "What?"
"It's true, Ron," Harry sighed.
"Andromeda told me that Hermione was
constantly tortured for the past three
years."
"I - I didn't realise! I thought I was
keeping her safe, I - " and when Ron's
eyes began to glisten, Draco felt a faint
pang of sympathy for him. A faint one,
mingled with disgust because it was
honestly uncomfortable to watch his
nemesis cry.
"We all make mistakes, Weasel," Draco
said flatly. "But since your purpose of
Obliviating Hermione's memories was
to make her forget everything about the
Order, you can't possibly get angry or
hold a grudge against her for forgetting
everything about it, or forgetting
everything about you."
"Did she? Did she really forget about
me?" There was something so infinitely
broken and distraught in Ron's voice that
Draco found himself unable to think of a
snarky reply.
"Not completely," he said instead.
But when Ron's eyes flickered with a
newfound surge of hope, Draco hastily
dragged his eyes away and unlocked the
doors, striding out of the balcony
without a backward glance. It was just a
flicker of hope - but he wasn't sure if
Ginny was right about Ron no longer
having feelings for Hermione; or if, with
the new revelation, Ron now thought
they could start over.
He didn't know, but Merlin, the thought
of the latter possibility fucking hurt.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Hermione was having a most tedious
evening. After Draco, Harry and Ron
had left, Ginny had dragged her across
the room and proceeded to introduce her
to the rest of the D.A. Hermione
remembered some faces, like the Patil
twins, Seamus Finnigan and Dean
Thomas, but the rest were all a blur to
her.
She was in the middle of a group huddle
and feeling terribly claustrophobic when
Theo had barged his way through the
group. "You're all sickening her with
your over-affectionate behaviour," was
his more than blunt remark, "so kindly
back off."
Hermione could barely keep her face
straight as he extracted her from the
crowd, and the moment she was safely
away from her old friends, she threw a
grateful arm around Theo, pulling him
into a brief hug. "Thank you, I really did
think I was about to suffocate in there."
"I know. Why you Gryffindors thrive so
much on affectionate behaviour I'll never
know."
"I do believe some of them were from
the other houses too. I mean, there's
Terry and Padma over there and they're
from Ravenclaw. Oh, and Ernie and
Hannah are from Hufflepuff."
Theo began to look truly nauseous. And
he proceeded to spend the rest of the
night next to Hermione, an arrangement
which suited her just fine. The two of
them sat near Pansy and Blaise, who
were thrilled to be reunited with their
fellow Slytherins, Tracey and Daphne.
But Hermione wasn't blind to the way
the rest of the D.A. members ignored the
three Slytherins. She caught the
suspicious looks in between the polite
smiles. Only Neville and Luna seemed
hardly bothered and eventually came to
sit with them. Luna's strange anecdotes
about magical creatures was more than
sufficient to entertain, while Neville
surprised them when he asked if he
could join them on their next mission.
"Are you sure, Longbottom?" Theo
stared at him dubiously. "With a surname
like yours, you're bound to get mocked
by Draco and me twenty-four seven."
Hermione rolled her eyes and elbowed
Theo. "Don't listen to him. It would be
great to have you, Neville."
"Thanks, Hermione," Neville looked
pleased, "it'd be great to be on the team."
But when Neville and Luna left to get
more food, Theo turned to Hermione.
"We're not actually going to let him into
17-65, are we?"
"We'll see." Hermione replied honestly,
"I do think Neville's a good sort and we
can trust him, but Draco and the others
should have a say in this too."
Theo was appeased by her answer,
which wasn't a surprise because
Hermione knew that he held Draco in
high regard. Despite what Draco said
about the five of them having an equal
share in 17-65, the truth was that Theo,
Blaise and Pansy would follow Draco's
commands to the ends of the earth.
Hermione thought that their loyalty was
very admirable.
She was about to continue talking to
Theo when the doors of the balcony
were suddenly flung open. Draco strode
out, his jaw clenched and grey eyes
stormy. His eyes swept the room once,
as though in search for someone - her;
and when he finally found her across the
room, he looked almost relieved. But
then Ginny went up to return him his
wand. Hermione watched as his posture
grew rigid, and he murmured a quick
answer to Ginny's question before
heading out of the room altogether.
That was Hermione's cue. Pushing her
chair back, she hastily waved a quick
goodbye to the D.A. members before
running out. Draco was already halfway
down the stairs, and her chest tightened
as she saw him. He cut a forlorn figure
as he leaned against the banisters, head
tilted down and shoulders hunched.
"Draco!"
His head snapped up at her voice, and
his eyebrows rose in faint amusement.
"Merlin, Granger, you didn't need to
come after me. Nor did the rest of you,"
he added.
Hermione looked over her shoulder,
only to realise that the three Slytherins
and Luna were also descending the stairs
behind her, concerned expressions on
their faces. She smiled at them before
turning back to Draco. "We just wanted
to make sure you're okay."
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but a
sharp, familiar voice cut through the
hallway.
"Malfoy!" Ron was rushing out of the
room, while Harry and Ginny trailed
after him in clear concern, both looking
rather apologetic. Ron came to a pause
in front of Hermione and smiled warmly.
"Hey, Hermione. Sorry about earlier."
Hermione managed a light smile and
shook her head. "It's alright, Ron."
He hesitated, looking like he wanted to
say something more to her before
changing his mind and turning to Draco
instead. "Look, Malfoy, there's
something I have to discuss with you. In
private," he added, disregarding the
hostile looks from the other Slytherins.
Draco's eyes flickered over to Hermione
before reluctantly dragging back to Ron.
"Fine," he muttered, jerking his head to a
small alcove some way off.
Ron followed without another word.
Draco cast a quick Muffliato the moment
they were out of earshot; well aware that
Hermione and the others were still
openly staring in blatant curiosity. "What
do you want, Weasel?"
Ron glared, but seemed to think twice
before starting another heated argument.
"Listen - don't tell Hermione about what
we discussed earlier."
"I'm currently thinking of seventy-seven -
no, seventy-eight - different ways to hex
you right now, so before I do, you'd
better come up with a fucking brilliant
explanation."
"You're such a wank - "
"Seventy-nine."
"I would like to explain everything to
Hermione at my own time, alright?" Ron
snapped in frustration, "I want to
properly apologise for what I did. I owe
her at least this much."
Draco bit down hard on his tongue to
prevent another scathing retort. "Fine,"
he muttered at last, before taking a step
closer to the Weasel, practically
sneering down at him. "But if you
somehow manage to turn the tables on
her and fault her for not being able to
remember you, I will hex you with those
eighty ways I just thought of."
"You said seventy-nine earlier."
"What can I say? I'm fucking
imaginative."
He turned to leave, but Ron stopped him.
"Just tell me one thing, Malfoy." The
look on Ron's face was serious. "How
much does she mean to you?"
"Everything."
The answer came in a heartbeat, no
hesitations, no extraneous thoughts
required. It stunned Ron into
speechlessness, but even then, Draco
thought that his answer had not sufficed.
'Everything' was just a quantifier, but
when it came to Hermione Granger,
there were simply no words to describe
how he truly felt about her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Having breakfast with Andromeda was

one of Hermione's favourite things to do.
Even though Draco's insomnia had
lessened marginally, he still slept at
erratic hours. The three Slytherins
usually slept in late, while Luna
occasionally had to run errands for the
Order. But Hermione was a morning
person - even though her hair often
looked like a 'rat's nest' (Draco's kind
words) in the morning - and she enjoyed
making breakfast with Andromeda,
feeding Teddy and watching Grus the
house-elf with fascination.
Hermione found Andromeda incredibly
easy to talk to, which wasn't much of a
surprise, since Harry had told her that
she used to get along wonderfully with
Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora, as
well. Andromeda was the only one apart
from Draco who seemed to fully
understand her and Hermione treated the
older woman like her own mother.
She couldn't help it; the feeling was far
too familiar, and she couldn't remember
her own mother. Or her own father.
She'd asked Draco about it before, but
he'd never met her own parents, let alone
know what had happened to them.
It was Andromeda who had the answer.
Hermione had put off asking about her
parents for as long as she could, because
a part of her was terrified to know the
truth. If something had happened to them
- she couldn't bear to know.
But now Hermione was ready to know,
and Andromeda was more than ready to
tell her. "Harry told me that you used
Obliviate on them," Andromeda
explained, as the two of them nursed hot
mugs of tea at the table that morning.
"You erased all their memories of you."
Hermione felt her breath catch. A faint
wave of sadness surged through her, but
more than anything, she thought it was
poetic justice - that she'd erased their
memories and now she couldn't
remember anything about them.
"Are they safe?" She asked, blinking
away the tears that sprung to her eyes.
She couldn't remember them, but they
were her family and it somehow felt like
she was missing a piece.
Andromeda reached across the table to
take Hermione's hands. "After Harry told
me that, I sent Grus to search for them.
You know how clever elves are; they
can apparate anywhere in the world. We
found them in Australia - their names are
now Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I
send Grus to check up on them on a
monthly basis, and yes, they are safe."
Safe. At a time like this, that was the
only thing that mattered.
Hermione sighed in relief, a tiny smile
flitting across her lips as she looked
over at Grus. Andromeda treated the
house-elf with nothing but respect, and
Grus was now seated at the table, hastily
turning Teddy's face back to its original
shape when the little Metamorphmagus
produced a duck-bill shaped mouth.
Hermione laughed at Teddy's antics and
held out a hand to the house-elf. "Thank
you, Grus," she murmured, her smile
widening when the house-elf slipped his
hand through hers. "I really appreciate
your efforts."
"Grus is happy to help," the house-elf
responded cheerfully, before panicking
again when Teddy hiccupped and
produced a mop of vibrant violet curls.
Hermione thought it was adorable how
much the house-elf cared for Teddy.
Andromeda had told her that Grus was a
freed house-elf, but he was entirely
committed to serving Andromeda and
Teddy.
"What will you do about your parents,
Hermione?" Andromeda asked now,
bringing Hermione back to the topic of
conversation.
The brunette witch shrugged. "I do love
them," she hummed in agreement, a
thoughtful frown slipping onto her face.
"And I do want them to be safe. But if
Wendell and Monica Wilkins are happy
being who they are, then who am I to
destroy their happiness by presenting to
them a daughter who can't remember
them at all?"
"Hermione," Andromeda's eyes softened
in understanding, "your parents will love
you regardless. It didn't stop Draco, it
doesn't stop me - and it would never
stop them."
Hermione smiled through the blur of
tears in her eyes and nodded. She
opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden
knock on the door made the two of them
turn around.
"I'll get it," she told the older witch, and
quickly headed out of the kitchen. But the
person standing on the front porch made
her eyes widen in surprise. "Ron?"
"Hi, 'Mione," the redhead scratched the
back of his neck sheepishly. "Morning."
Hermione smiled in amusement, but a
part of her felt almost nervous to see
him. Harry had immediately set her at
ease, but Ron's fiery temper had more
than alarmed her the previous night and
she couldn't help but sense the tension
between them. "It's great to see you,
Ron," she said instead, and opened the
door wider. "Come in."
Ron stepped inside, running a hand
through his hair as he glanced around the
place. "Um," he cleared his throat, "you
live here with Andromeda?"
"Yes. But Draco and the others live here
too. So does Luna."
"Luna?" He chuckled and shook his
head, following her into the kitchen.
"Merlin, it's a bloody full house. I can
see why Ginny and Harry like to come
here often. Hi, Andromeda," he greeted,
nodding politely at the older witch, who
was still seated at the table.
Andromeda smiled, and rose to pour him
a cup of tea. "You're invited to come
here anytime you like, Ronald. Although
Theo and Draco might take some getting
used to."
"I highly doubt it," Ron muttered under
his breath, taking a sip from the mug that
Andromeda handed to him. He turned to
Hermione, who was now laughing and
sponging kisses against Teddy's cheek as
she murmured to the little boy. "Listen,
Hermione, there's something I need to
talk to you about."
"I should go," Andromeda said, tactfully
drawing away from the table and picking
up Teddy along the way. "Hermione, tell
Draco that I'll be visiting McGonagall.
Come along, Grus."
The house-elf obediently trailed after
Andromeda. The moment the three of
them were out of sight, Ron turned to
Hermione. She was scratching at an
arbitrary spot on the table almost
apprehensively, but her eyes flickered to
his when he said her name.
"So, um," and Ron suddenly found
himself at a loss for words. Looking at
Hermione Granger now and knowing
what he did to her sent a pang of guilt
through his chest, followed by a painful
realisation that he was probably never
going to make it up to her. "How've you
been?" He asked instead.
Hermione smiled in evident relief, glad
that he wasn't going to blow his top off
again. "I've been doing well. It's been
great staying here. What about you?"
Ron looked rather thrown off by her
cordial but faint detachment. "I'm good.
Been fighting a lot, with Neville and the
rest of the Order, mostly, but - " He
stopped abruptly, exhaling in slight
frustration. "Okay, this is killing me so I
have to ask - are things always going to
be this awkward between us?"
She was startled. " Merlin, no! But it'll
definitely take some getting used to. I
was the same way with Harry when I
first met him, but we're getting to know
each other all over again."
"So that's it then," Ron said sadly, "we're
never going to be the same way we once
were?"
"We will be, eventually."
"I don't think so."
"You are being incredibly pessimistic,
Ronald Weasley," Hermione said,
glaring at him half-heartedly. "Now stop
looking so glum and drink your tea. Do
you want some breakfast?"
Ron glanced up at her words, a crooked
smile flashing across his face. "Now this
sounds rather familiar."
"What is?"
"You. Ordering me around."
"I used to order you around?" Hermione
repeated, raising an eyebrow in
disbelief as she cracked two eggs onto
the frying pan. She never used a wand to
cook, despite the many cooking spells
that Andromeda had taught her,
preferring to do it the Muggle way
instead.
"You used to order everyone around.
Merlin, 'Mione, you were bossy as
anything."
Hermione huffed in indignation. "Well,
I'm not bossy now," she said defensively,
handing him a buttery scone, which he
eagerly grabbed as though he hadn't seen
food in days.
"You used to nag at me for everything -
'Ronald, will you stop eating so much?'
'Ronald, it's LeviOsa, not LevioSAR!'
'Ronald, will you stop lazing around and
do some bloody homework?'" He
imitated in a high-pitched voice,
spraying food all around as he spoke
with his mouth full.
She eyed him with an equal mix of
disgust and amusement. "Oh, now I know
where I've seen this nasty eating habit
before," she shook her head, picking a
crumb off her shirt and flicking it back at
him. "I thought Theo was bad enough but
look at you!"
"Please," drawled a familiar voice
behind them. "I have wonderful table
manners."
Theo strolled into the kitchen, reaching
over to muss Hermione's already wild
mop of curls, before sneering at Ron.
His sneer was, of course, in no way half
as good as Draco's, but it came close.
"By the way, Red, you left this on the
bathroom sink," Theo deposited a silver-
coloured stone in front of her. "At least,
I'm presuming you were the last person
to use the bathroom since the place
reeked of your shampoo."
Ron went rigid, his blue eyes wide as he
stared at the stone. "Where did you get
this?"
"Not that it's any of your business - but I
just said the bloody bathroom."
"No, how did you find it?"
The expression on Ron's face was
suddenly hostile, almost edgy as he
stared at Theo suspiciously, and
Hermione immediately reached across
the table. "Ron, I can explain - "
"I knew this was too good to be true!"
He sprung to his feet, grabbing the stone
and shoving past Theo. "I knew that
there was something odd about the
situation - four Death-Eaters keeping a
member of the Order with them for
months!"
"Ronald, wait!"
"Shacklebolt needs to know about this,
and so does the rest of the Order - "
But his words were cut off when Theo
gripped the sleeve of Ron's shirt and
roughly pulled him back. "You're not
going to tell anyone about this," Theo
hissed, looking well and truly angry
now. "Because you have no right to.
Whatever that is, it belongs to
Hermione."
Ron's eyes flashed and he shoved Theo
back violently. "It belongs to Harry!"
"Yes, well, the bloody Cloak of
Invisibility also belongs to Harry bloody
Potter, but we're not going to give that
back either!"
"Theo!" Hermione's eyes grew round as
Ron suddenly looked downright furious.
She knew that Theo hadn't meant to give
that away, and that he didn't realise that
this Stone was the second of the Deathly
Hallows. But judging by the expression
on Ron's face, it was clear that he knew
exactly what they were.
"You have the Cloak too?" Ron
exploded.
She opened her mouth to correct him but
there came a furious knock on the door
and she paused. Both Theo and Ron,
however, didn't seem to hear and looked
like they were moments away from
hexing the hell out of each other.
"Of course we have the bloody - "
"Theo, stop it," Hermione gripped him
by the arm firmly and pulled him back.
"Go answer the door."
"But - "
"The door, Theo." Her voice was firm
and unwavering. "Now."
He swore under his breath and stormed
over to the door, yanking it open. Ginny
was a flurry of red hair and flashing eyes
as she rushed in, heading straight for her
brother. Harry and Neville trooped in;
looking rather awed by Ginny's temper
that easily rivalled Ron's.
"You!" She sounded thoroughly angry,
reaching up to smack Ron firmly on the
head. "You said you were going for a
tactical meeting with Neville! Neville
came to visit Harry and me this morning
and told us you never even showed up! I
told you, if you wanted to visit
Hermione, you have to bring me along!"
"I don't need a bloody chaperone, Ginny!
Everything was going fine with me and
Hermione until I found out that these
Death-Eaters have the Resurrection
Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility!"
Ron's words stunned his sister and the
others into silence, and even Theo
looked surprised that the stone was
actually the second of the Deathly
Hallows. But the tension was quickly
heightened when Luna, Pansy and Blaise
rushed down the stairs.
"Merlin," Blaise's eyes widened as he
looked at everyone. "What's going on?"
Draco followed, sauntering down the
stairs at a slower pace, running an
aggravated hand through his blond hair
as he surveyed the scene in the living
room with exaggerated weariness.
"You'd better have a reasonable
explanation for waking me up at seven in
the bloody morning, Weasel."
"I have a bloody reasonable explanation,
you traitor!" Ron hissed, grabbing his
wand and shooting a stinging hex straight
at Draco.
Draco, who was wandless and
completely taken unaware, barely had
time to block the hex with his bare
hands. He swore when the spell sliced a
thin welt across his arm and the look on
his face darkened. "Try that again,
wanker."
"With pleasure," Ron growled, raising
his wand threateningly, even as Blaise,
Pansy and Theo stepped up next to
Draco to block any more of Ron's hexes.
"Is it true?" Harry's calm voice cut in
before anyone else could say anything.
There was a look of suspicion on his
face, and he had his wand with him too.
"You have two of the Deathly Hallows?"
"If that's the case, we need to give this
back to Shacklebolt," Neville
interjected.
"We've had dozens of things stolen from
the Order over the past few months,"
Ron said, with a heated glare. "Harry
lost his Cloak, Shacklebolt lost his safe
and now you have the Resurrection
Stone! What the hell are you playing at,
Malfoy? You and your cronies say
you've defected but you're stealing things
from the Order!"
"You didn't give back the box of Dark
Potions either," Harry hedged. "I think
you owe us an explanation, at the very
least."
Draco's gaze flickered to Hermione.
There were some things that only the
four Slytherins and Hermione knew
about - one being the existence of the
Peverells, a group within the Dark
Lord's inner circle that was searching
for the Deathly Hallows. This, above
all, was Hermione's secret, and since the
reason for her capture was something
that she chose to share with a select few,
Draco realised that he was in no
position to tell the Weasel and the
others.
"I can't tell you anything," he said, at
last. "You're just going to have to trust
us."
Ron's mouth fell open in anger. "Are you
bloody serious?"
"He's serious, Ron," Hermione said
now, stepping in front of Draco in case
Ron shot another stinging hex at him.
"Yes, it's true - we're keeping two of the
Deathly Hallows with us. But we're
perfectly capable of keeping the Deathly
Hallows safe and making sure it doesn't
fall into the wrong hands."
Harry stared at her intently. "What aren't
you telling us, Hermione?"
"Too many things," she said simply.
"Draco and the others have their own
methods of ending this war and they've
been doing it for three years now. And I
trust them," she added, and felt Draco's
hand surreptitiously gloss the small of
her back as silent encouragement.
Ron's mouth fell open. "Have they
Imperiused you?" He shook his head.
"Whatever, Neville, let's get the Cloak
and head back to Shacklebolt. He needs
to know about this."
"If you want to take it, you're going to
have to take it by fucking force," Theo
spat, now truly riled up, pointing his
wand at Ron. Pansy and Blaise did the
same. "Because we're not giving it up."
"Trust me, Nott, I will." Ron said, as
Neville reluctantly stepped up next to
him. "You forget that Neville and I have
been fighting people like you for years,
even if it's two against four."
"Five," Luna stepped up next to Theo,
holding out her wand, a cheerful smile
curving on her face, the only one
unperturbed in this situation. "I trust
them."
"Six." Ginny took a step closer to the
Slytherins, shrugging when Ron glared at
her. "Malfoy saved me twice. I don't
entirely trust him but he hasn't sold us
out yet."
"It'll be too late by the time he actually
does, Ginny."
"It's a risk I'm willing to take," she
replied evenly, before looking over at
her boyfriend, who looked thoroughly
torn between the two sides. "Harry?"
Harry faltered. "I - um..."
"The Cloak belongs to Granger," Draco
said flatly. "Theo and I found an
Imperiused Death-Eater stealing it some
months ago and we took it. I killed him
after that, and Granger's been using the
Cloak for missions. The Stone was
found the day we went to The Ruins, and
I gave that to Granger as well because it
would be safest with her. She's the one
with the two Deathly Hallows, and the
four of us Death-Eaters would do
anything to protect her. Does that answer
make you happy, Potter?"
"It's a start," Harry had a faint smile
curving his lips and he looked at Ron.
"It's Hermione, mate, we can trust her."
Ron was silent for a long moment. Then
he shook his head, shoving the
Resurrection Stone into his pocket. "It's
not Hermione I don't trust - it's him," he
said, with a pointed look at Draco, and
strode towards the door. "I'm out of
here."
The door slammed shut behind him,
leaving a pained silence in his wake.
41 | riddikulus

41
r i ddi kul us
Gets rid of boggarts.

The knock came in the middle of the

night.
Draco, who awoke at the slightest sound,
was the first one up. Hermione raced
down the stairs after him, followed by
Andromeda who seemed fraught with
worry. Draco pulled open the door,
holding his wand protectively in front of
him, but quickly lowered it when he saw
the person standing on the front porch.
Hermione peeked out behind Draco.
"Professor?"
"Minerva," Andromeda greeted, pulling
the door open to usher the old witch in.
"Is anything the matter?"
McGonagall swept into the living room,
but she politely refused the chair that
Hermione offered her. She turned to
Draco, a grave expression on her face.
"Neville's missing," she informed him
bluntly, amidst horrified gasps from
Andromeda and Hermione. "I need you
and your team to locate him. There's
been a siege in one of our other bases
and the rest of the Order's trying to save
whoever they can. Seamus told us that he
last saw Neville in the Forest of Dean,
so that's where he probably is."
"Probably captured by Snatchers,"
Draco muttered, looking almost
composed in the face of such a situation.
He yawned and ran a hand through his
hair, leaning back against the armchair.
"There's a Snatcher camp there."
"Mr Malfoy - "
"Lighten up, Professor," he drawled, his
lips curling up in a tired smirk, "it's no
wonder I had such a shite time in school,
considering your sense of humour - or
lack thereof."
Andromeda frowned. "Draco!"
"It's quite alright, Andromeda,"
McGonagall returned evenly. "I'm quite
used to Mr Malfoy and his snarky
mannerisms, considering I had the
misfortune to have him in several of my
classes back at Hogwarts."
"Pleasure's all mine, Professor."
She shot him an unamused look. "Now I
really don't have time for such nonsense,
Mr Malfoy. Gather your team and find
Neville."
"Fine," Draco rolled his eyes and
nudged Hermione, who immediately ran
up the stairs without another word. Luna
was the first to appear, and Draco turned
to her. "Get Potter and the Weaselette."
Luna nodded, and paused at the sight of
McGonagall, her lips lifting in a blissful
smile. "Oh, hello, Professor," she
greeted cordially, before apparating off.
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up.
"Potter? Harry Potter?"
"Well, you know," Draco shrugged.
"Keep your friends close, enemies
closer - "
"How in Merlin's name did you get
Harry Potter to fight in the war, let alone
join your team?"
"I Imperiused him, of course - " Draco
trailed off when Andromeda shot him a
warning look, and the sardonic smirk on
his face quickly faded as he added, more
seriously now, "he joined for
Hermione."
"Well," McGonagall shook her head in
disbelief, but her features softened as
she looked at Draco. "Whatever the
case, Mr Malfoy, I would like to thank
you. There are still some of us who think
the world of Harry and would like to see
him finish what he started."
Draco suddenly felt rather
uncomfortable with the gratitude lacing
McGonagall's voice. "I don't think much
of Potter - in fact, I still think he's a
bloody wank - " he bit the words off
when Andromeda elbowed him, and met
McGonagall's gaze squarely. " - but I do
think that Potter's the Chosen One."
"Not Longbottom?"
"Longbottom got himself lost in a bloody
forest in the middle of the night, while
Potter's in bed with his girlfriend. I think
it's pretty obvious which of them
possesses the brains and self-
preservation to destroy the Dark Lord."
McGonagall's lips twitched. But before
she could say anything more, Theo came
rushing down the stairs, looking
thoroughly energetic and alert, despite
the fact that his hair was sticking up
every which way. Then Blaise and Pansy
followed, mumbling polite but awkward
greetings to McGonagall.
Draco glanced round the room. "Where's
Granger?"
"Here," something brushed up against
him, and then Hermione was pulling the
Cloak of Invisibility off herself, stuffing
it into her satchel. She grinned up at him
and pushed herself on the tips of her toes
to press her lips against his.
"Might want to look away, Professor,"
Blaise chuckled when McGonagall's
eyes widened.
But Hermione kept the kiss brief. She
quickly pulled back, placing his wand in
his hands. "This is yours," and she
handed out four phials to each of the
Slytherins. "And you guys forgot about
these."
"Numbing potions," Draco said casually,
when McGonagall frowned at the way
the four of them downed the liquids
without batting an eyelid. Realisation
flickered in her eyes as she quickly
deciphered the purpose, but even though
her eyes narrowed in disapproval, she
wisely chose not to say a word.
Faint pops of apparition sounded behind
them as Harry, Ginny and Luna
appeared. "Professor?" Harry was
thoroughly surprised to see McGonagall.
"What're you doing here?"
"I came to deliver a new mission to
Draco." The Gryffindor head stepped up
to him with a smile on her face. "It's
good to see you again, Potter."
"You too, Professor."
Harry exchanged a quick hug with the
older witch, and Ginny did the same.
McGonagall left after that, along with
Andromeda who had offered to provide
medical help, and then it was just the
eight of them.
Draco felt the weight of their expectant
stares on him and quickly wracked his
brains for a plan. After a few seconds,
he came up with one. It was slipshod,
but it would have to do. "We'll split into
two groups," he said calmly. "Zabini,
Parkinson, Nott, Lovegood - the four of
you, you start from the east of the Forest
and make your way through. There's a
Snatcher camp, Parkinson, you know
where it is, right?"
Pansy nodded.
"Okay, you'll lead the way, see if they've
got Longbottom tied up at the camp. The
four of us," he gestured to the remaining
members, "we'll start from the west and
try to locate Longbottom. It's dark out, so
it's not really necessary to use
Disillusionment charms, but keep your
eyes open and ears peeled at all times."
The others nodded. Theo was the first to
apparate off, and the rest quickly
followed, Hermione latching on to Ginny
as she side-along apparated with the
girl. But Pansy lingered behind. Draco
raised an eyebrow. "Why aren't you
going?"
"I'm about to," she strode into the kitchen
and grabbed another bottle of numbing
potion from the shelf, downing its
contents in one gulp. "Maybe tonight I'll
have my revenge," she added, her eyes
gleaming with a strange sort of
excitement of the deviant kind.
"Pansy," Draco's voice was quiet. She
looked at him. "Don't underestimate
him."
A fleeting glimpse of hurt crossed her
eyes. And all at once, Draco felt pulled
back into the past, watching as Pansy
slowly deteriorated into a shell of
herself, terrified into such a magnified
scale that she could barely breathe, let
alone survive.
"I did once," she whispered, and she
dragged in a deep breath, gripping her
wand tight. "Never again."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco found Hermione, Ginny and Harry

already waiting for him by the time he
apparated into the Forest of Dean. Ginny
and Harry turned to leave, but he
stopped them. "One second." He
murmured incantations under his breath
and placed a charm on Harry, before
doing the same to Ginny. "Let's go.
Lumos."
He led the way with his lit wand, and
Hermione smiled at her friends, who
were staring after him with matching
expressions of confusion. "It's an anti-
disarming charm," she explained. "That
way, no one can take your wand from
you."
"That's actually pretty clever," Ginny
remarked, grinning when Draco threw
her a glance over his shoulder. "Don't
look so surprised, Malfoy. I can be nice
too."
"Don't break the trend, Weaselette.
Weasleys are never nice to Malfoys, and
vice versa."
"Malfoys are never nice to anyone,"
Harry deadpanned.
"That is actually very accurate, Potter.
Perhaps you possess more brain cells
than the previous one cell I assumed you
had."
"You just proved my point - "
"Shut up for a second, Potter." Draco
stopped the group, pushing Hermione
behind him instinctively. "Nox." The
light from his wand flickered off and the
four of them hid behind a tree, Draco
scanning their surroundings with sharp
eyes.
"See anything?" Ginny whispered after
awhile. "Because I don't - "
Draco swore under his breath and
shushed her. "I hear something." He
pointed his wand in an arbitrary
direction. "Homenum Revelio."
Instantly, the soft shimmer of magic in
the distance seemed to evaporate, and
Hermione's eyes widened as she saw a
figure some distance away, struggling
against the ropes that bound him to a
tree. "That's Neville!" Harry and Ginny
started to head forward but she quickly
stopped them. "Don't - there might be a
trap."
"Stay here," Draco murmured, pulling
back from them and apparating away.
Moments later, the three of them watched
as a flock of conjured birds flew out
from behind a tree far away. The birds
shot past Neville but they were
completely unharmed.
"It should be fine now - " the words had
just left Ginny's mouth when a sudden
pop sounded behind them.
The first thing that came to Hermione's
mind was that this wasn't Draco. This
apparition sound was far too loud, too
clumsy. Her fear escalated in a split
second when she saw the Snatcher
advance towards them.
Harry was the first to react, striking the
Death-Eater before the man could even
lift his wand. "Stupefy!" The man was
flung back with the strong spell, and
collapsed on the ground, completely
unconscious.
But just as the Snatcher was taken down,
two more apparated nearby - one on the
left and the other on the right. And
Hermione was reacting without even
having to think. "Protego!" The shield
momentarily protected the three of them,
but the Snatcher on the left was ready the
moment the spell's effects ended, and he
reacted far quicker than any of them
could.
"Crucio!"
Hermione shoved Ginny behind her just
as the spell hit her square in the chest,
and then there was excruciating pain as
she crumpled up onto the ground, like
hot knives digging into her skin, a feeling
she was far too familiar with.
"Hermione!" Ginny turned her wand on
the man angrily. "Expelliarmus!"
The wand flew out from the Snatcher's
hand, and then Hermione saw someone
apparate next to the man. The look on
Draco's face was murderous, and his
wand was pointed at the man's throat in
the blink of an eye. "Avada - "
"Draco," Hermione rasped weakly, and
he quickly glanced over at her, the
coldness in his grey eyes fading away
when she shook her head.
He stilled, then dragged his hand up to
the man's throat, preventing him from
saying a word. "Legilimens," he said
instead, so smoothly it seemed like he
had done this a million times before.
And Hermione supposed he had. After
Draco had extracted the man's memories,
he drew a quick tiny circle with his
wand. "Obliviate."
Then with a wordless spell, the man's
eyes fell shut as he slumped onto the
ground, unconscious. Harry stepped up,
having taken down the other Snatcher
with a succession of stunning spells, and
helped Draco to pull Hermione to her
feet. The four of them headed some way
off, hiding behind a thicket of bushes.
"Hermione." Draco was by her side in
an instant, looping his arms tightly
around her waist when she leaned
heavily into him. There was an almost
frantic desperation in his eyes as he
murmured a healing incantation to soothe
the ache in her chest.
"I'm fine," she assured him, as the pain
begin to ebb away. She hugged him back
briefly, feeling the terror in her heart
quickly dissipate at the sight of him.
"Let's go."
"You're not going anywhere. Weaselette,
take Granger back home, and Potter,
apparate to the other end of the forest. I
think Zabini and the others might need
reinforcements."
"I'm not going back!" Hermione glared at
him. "I'm fine, Draco, I'll just take a
numbing potion and I'll be fine! Blaise
needs help and I have to go."
His eyes narrowed. "No fucking way - "
"If you drag me home, I'll just apparate
here again."
"You don't fucking know how to
apparate, Granger."
"Then I'll get Grus to apparate me. Or
I'll travel on foot all the way to the
forest."
"Okay, are the both of you going to just
stand here arguing?" Ginny rolled her
eyes. "I mean, while this does bring back
fond memories of the two of you
bickering your way through the years
back at Hogwarts, we're kind of in a
situation here, and it isn't safe."
"I'm half expecting Hermione to punch
him in the face at any moment now,"
Harry chuckled.
Hermione laughed and looked up at
Draco, whose lips were twitching in
reluctant amusement. "Fine," he
muttered, with a resigned sigh. "Just
stick close to Potter and Weaselette. And
use the Cloak if necessary."
Her smile widened and she pressed her
lips to his briefly, feeling a delicious
shiver gloss her spine when he boldly
kissed her back. "I adore you," she
mused, elbowing Harry when he made a
gagging noise beside her.
"You should go," Draco said quietly,
brushing his thumb against her cheek
gently before pulling back. "Before more
Death-Eaters come."
"Don't worry, Malfoy, I'll keep her safe,"
Harry said, as Hermione looped her arm
through his and Ginny's, in preparation
for side-along apparition.
"Please, Harry, I'm perfectly capable of
keeping myself safe," came Hermione's
dry retort before the three of them
apparated out of sight.
Draco stared at the empty spot in the
middle of the forest where Hermione
had been just mere seconds ago. It
seemed that Hermione had taken all the
light away when she vanished, and now
the night grew colder, the shadows grew
darker, and the war was finally the way
it had always been.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It had been war from the moment they

apparated into the forest.
Theo was the first to spot some
Snatchers nearby, far away from the
actual campsite. They were patrolling
the place in small groups, hardly aware
of the presence of three defected Death-
Eaters and one Order member nearby.
They were defenceless, and it would be
so easy to destroy all of them. With
Fiendfyre, maybe. Except none of them
knew how to control one - apart from
Draco, who practically loathed that spell
with every fibre of his being, after
having lost a friend to it years ago.
"What should we do?" Luna asked
Blaise, who was always second-in-
command whenever Draco was not
around.
"They have Neville," Blaise quickly
deduced. "The Snatchers are patrolling,
so it obviously means that they're
expecting the Order to show up on a
rescue mission. Let's just take down
whoever we can. Thin out the herd.
Don't go near the campsite, or we'll be
outnumbered. Pansy, you and I will use
Legilimency to find out where Neville
is."
The four of them quickly dispersed to
hide among the tall trees. A trio of
Snatchers soon came their way, and
Theo was the first to react. "Stupefy!"
The red light hit one of them and the man
promptly collapsed. But the sound was
enough to alert two other Snatchers, who
immediately headed over to investigate.
Blaise peeked out from his hiding
position to glare at Theo, who was
always thrived on making as much noise
as possible.
Theo grinned, and raised his wand,
sending another spell right towards
Blaise. The spell missed him by mere
inches, honing in on the Snatcher who
was a good distance away. When the
man fell over, Blaise rolled his eyes at
Theo, who winked. "Saved your life."
"Bloody show-off," Blaise muttered and
whirled around to stun the other Snatcher
on his own. He knew that Theo enjoyed
the thrill of being back on the battlefield
again and, to a certain extent, Blaise felt
the same way. It was fun fighting
alongside his friends, and now it made
sense because they were fighting on the
Order's side.
The next group of Snatchers were close
enough, and Theo and Blaise quickly
took two down in rapid succession. The
third was hit by Pansy with a similar
stunning spell, but the last, who was
niftier on his feet, managed to escape the
barrage of spells by ducking and
twisting his way through.
Then Luna caught him with an
unexpected spell that hardly any of them
ever used. "Levicorpus!"
The man was immediately lifted in mid-
air, his body dangling upside-down.
Theo took the opportunity to hit him with
a spell. "Expulso!" The man was blasted
backwards by an overwhelming surge of
pressure and fell to the ground in a heap.
Theo grinned at Luna. "Good work."
She smiled, evidently pleased by his
compliment, and returned back to her
hiding spot. The four of them held their
ground for the next few minutes, the
three Slytherins being well-trained
fighters and Luna being relatively skilled
at duelling. But as more and more
Snatchers began to converge, Blaise
quickly called for a retreat.
"Neville's on the other side of the
forest," he told them, after having used
Legilimency on several of the fallen
Snatchers. The four of them were now
running through the woods, Theo sending
blasting spells every so often to deter the
Snatchers from catching up with them.
"The other group will find Neville,"
Blaise continued, pausing as he waited
for Theo to help Luna over a log. "In the
meantime, we'll just keep the Snatchers
at bay until we're outnumbered."
"What about the camp?" Pansy asked
unexpectedly. She had been silent all this
while, looking unusually focused on her
mission. Blaise could vaguely guess the
reason, but he hadn't wanted to call her
out on it.
"We can't possibly take it down without
getting ourselves killed - "
"Well." Pansy came to an abrupt halt
now, a look of vicious intent on her face.
She pulled back, untangling her fingers
from Blaise and glanced at him briefly
with apology in her eyes. "One of us has
to try."
And before any of them could stop her,
she apparated out of sight.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The other end of the forest was deathly

silent.
Draco kept his ears peeled for any
abnormalities, but after hearing nothing
for a good thirty seconds, he cast a
Disillusionment charm on himself and
slowly made his way towards Neville.
On his trek over, he dragged up the
sleeve of his jacket, grimacing at the
amount of blood trickling down his arm.
"Tergeo," he mumbled, clearing off some
of the crimson with a wave of his wand,
and pulled his sleeve back down. His
Dark Mark had been bleeding for awhile
now, but while the pain was
excruciating, he'd been able to ward off
the worst of it with the numbing potion
he'd taken earlier. Now he was just
hoping to get through this mission
without losing too much blood.
Once Draco was close enough, he
removed the Disillusionment charm and
smirked at the astonished look on
Neville's face. "Evening, Longbottom,"
he deadpanned.
"Ma - Malfoy?"
"I do believe that's my surname, yes."
"What're you doing here?"
Draco shot him an aggravated look and
started to lift the magical charms on the
ropes that trapped Neville to the tree.
"Midnight stroll, apparently," he said
sardonically. "The forest is fucking
lovely at night."
"Are you alone - "
"I think I heard a rabbit somewhere in
the distance."
" - because I thought I heard Ginny
scream earlier."
"Yeah, Weaselette was eaten by the
rabbit."
"Are you and your team on a mission?"
Draco finally lifted his head and tapped
his wand to Neville's throat.
"Longbottom, I have a hex that will make
your surname become a reality. And I
will not hesitate to use it if you say one
more bloody word."
Neville promptly shut his mouth with an
audible click. And Draco continued to
work on the charms in silence that,
unfortunately, didn't last long enough.
"Are you and Hermione really together?"
"For fuck's sake," Draco swore, getting
ready to hex the hell out of Neville,
when a sudden rustle near them made
him pause, killer senses alert.
"Honestly, it's weird enough as it is - "
But Neville was abruptly cut off when
Draco spun around, shooting a wordless
spell in an arbitrary direction. Seconds
later, a Snatcher collapsed mere feet
away from them. Draco threw the
Gryffindor a frosty look. "Now will you
shut up?"
Neville clamped his mouth shut and
nodded. He watched as Draco swiftly
moved towards the Snatcher, taking
away the man's wand before leaning
down, murmuring some spells under his
breath that were far too soft to catch. But
just then, a sudden pop sounded nearby,
signalling another apparition. Draco
promptly vanished and Neville stilled.
"Don't say a word," Draco's voice was
suddenly far closer, and Neville realised
that he'd used a Disillusionment charm
again. " And try to survive."
Neville felt an invisible person place a
wand in his hands. Then the magical
charms on the ropes were slowly being
lifted again as the rope began to slacken
around him. But it wasn't loose enough
for him to escape when the next Snatcher
appeared, and then Neville was twisting
his hands up in a vain attempt to protect
himself.
He didn't need to. Draco was far quicker
to react and their enemy was promptly
hit by a silent spell, one strong enough to
knock him out completely.
But things went downhill from there.
Snatchers began apparating around in
swift succession, and Neville braced
himself as he suddenly saw several of
them. Draco swore under his breath and
quickly blocked the first spell shot at
them with a shield charm.
"Lift your own damn charms," he hissed
at Neville, blocking the barrage of hexes
that the Snatchers shot their way. It
wouldn't be difficult at all to get rid of
them, but Draco found himself having to
protect Neville, who was proving to be
absolutely useless in this situation.
"I'm trying!" But the charms were
complex and Neville had no idea how to
go about them. Draco muttered a string
of profanities as one of the hexes caught
him, and Neville's eyes widened. "Are
you okay?"
"Brilliant." Draco finally sent one of the
Snatchers to his unfortunate fate with a
strong stunning spell, only to have two
more apparate some way off and make
their way over.
"I can't undo these charms!" Neville
twisted and barely managed to dodge
two wayward spells from the left.
"We're getting outnumbered here!" He
braced himself when he saw the
Snatcher to his right point a wand at him.
Someone suddenly apparated next to
them, a rush of vibrant red-hair and
flashing blue eyes. "Stupefy!" The
Snatcher collapsed, and Ron took
position in front of Neville.
"What're you doing here, Weasel?"
Draco asked in lazy amusement.
"Same reason you are - saving Neville,"
Ron rolled his eyes, sending another hex
at the nearest Snatcher. "I knew it was
you. Only a bloody Death-Eater can fend
off so many Dark Spells at once."
"It's flattering how well you know me,
Weasel. Confringo!" Draco sent a
massive blast that hit several people at
once, giving them a brief moment of
reprieve as Ron fended off the rest of the
Snatchers. "Now cover us, I have to help
the bloody useless fool here."
Neville frowned. "Hey!"
"You might want to get rid of your
bloody Disillusionment charm, Malfoy, I
might hit you by accident. Or not," Ron
added, with a wicked grin.
"Don't delude yourself into thinking you
can, Weasel." Draco lifted the last charm
and pointed the wand at the rope, ready
to shred it to bits. "Diffindo."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Incendio."
The spell flew out from Pansy's wand
and, in the blink of an eye, the whole tent
had burst into flames. The flames were
fierce and overwhelming, and she
watched in satisfaction as the fire licked
across the canopy and devoured
everything in sight. And, amidst the yells
and screams of the Snatchers nearby,
Pansy turned and apparated off with a
faint crack.
She landed somewhere farther away, a
distance safe enough and she drew back,
placing her hand against a tall tree as she
looked at the hell she'd unleashed. Then
there was a rustling noise nearby, and
when she whirled around, she found
herself face to face with her greatest
nightmare.
"You."
Fenrir Greyback flashed a wicked grin
that showed a jagged row of pointed
teeth and she felt her toes curl. She didn't
have heightened senses at the moment
but he practically reeked of blood. "Yes,
it's me." He took a step closer to her, but
Pansy held her ground. "I could smell
you from a mile away."
"That makes two of us." She kept her
eyes on the wand in his hand, feeling the
blood pounding in her ears and her heart
hammering in her chest. I have nothing to
lose, she thought to herself, the words
racing in her mind over and over again. I
have nothing to lose.
"Surely, you're not still holding a grudge
about what happened, girly?" His lips
widened and he shook his head. "That
happened so long ago, and you have
come so far since - "
"Crucio!" The word had slipped past her
lips before she even realised. The anger
finally erupted from within until she was
nothing but seething, her peripherals
blurred with the red of revenge, and she
advanced towards him.
"You're no match for me, Parkinson," he
laughed as the spell hit him so weakly he
didn't even flinch. "You of all people
should know better than that - "
"Shut up! Crucio!"
He evaded the spell again. Her eyes
blurred with tears as she dragged in
another painful breath, hammering a
barrage of spells in between a flurry of
words. "I hate you - Crucio! - you ruined
my life," she spat, twisting around when
he shot another spell back at her.
"Crucio! Stop backing away, you bloody
mutt! Crucio!"
Greyback blocked all the spells with
alarming efficiency, a mocking smile on
his face as he sneered at her. "You're not
very good at the Cruciatus. Don't want to
hurt me too much, do you - "
"Incarcerous!"
He was a split second too slow to
deflect the spell. And then there were
thick black ropes looping around his
huge frame, tighter and tighter, like a
python about to squeeze the life out of its
prey. Pansy dragged him over, twisted
the wand away from his grotesque
hands, snapped it into two and dropped
the broken pieces onto the forest floor.
"You're wrong," she said calmly, her
voice emotionless as she stared down at
him. "I do want to hurt you. I have spent
years thinking of what it will be like to
have you at my mercy, begging for your
pathetic, measly life and screaming in
pain."
But Greyback stared back at her, his
dark eyes gleaming. "Go ahead. But
when you're torturing me, I'll be thinking
of your screams - "
"Shut up."
" - that night I bit you and turned you into
the monster that you are - "
She froze, digging the tip of her wand
into his throat, watching as his skin
cracked and a trickle of blood seeped
from the wound. "I'm not a monster - "
" - because monsters create monsters in
their own image, and there you are,
beautiful, the best monster I've created in
all my years, just as lethal as I am, just
as capable of inflicting the kind of pain
only the darkest of minds can master - "
"Shut up," her chest was tightening
painfully now, and his voice was all she
could hear. "Stop talking, stop talking,
stop talking - "
And Greyback's smile was widening. " -
just as capable of killing..."
"Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light hit Greyback
square in the chest. His head dropped
back to the ground, eyes bottomless pits
that stared vacantly up at the moonlight.
Fenrir Greyback was dead.
But Pansy hadn't killed him.
She whirled around, her breath catching
in her throat when she saw Blaise
standing mere feet away from her. The
expression on his face was impassive, a
kind of stone cold glaze she hadn't seen
from him before.
Then he blinked and lowered his wand.
"I know you wanted to have the
satisfaction of torturing and killing him,"
Blaise said quietly. "But he was never
worth the effort. And certainly not worth
you adding more red to your ledger."
Pansy smiled faintly, taking a step closer
to him. "And your ledger?" She asked,
thinking about how he had never taken a
life voluntarily. Even in his years as a
Death-Eater, the number of people
Blaise had killed could easily be
counted.
He met her gaze evenly. "You're worth
it."
She slid her fingers through his, feeling a
sense of serenity she hadn't ever felt
before, slowly effacing all the pent-up
feelings of rage and sadness that she'd
harboured through the years. Fenrir
Greyback was dead, and the biggest
monster in her head was finally gone, at
long last.
42 | sectumsempra

42
s e c tums e mp r a
Cuts.

Draco, Neville and Ron were the last to

return that night. Neville quickly excused
himself, saying that he had to report back
to let Shacklebolt know he was fine.
After Neville apparated off, Draco
headed into the kitchen to treat his
wounds.
Ron followed him, begrudging respect
on his face as he surveyed Draco. "I still
think you're a prick, by the way," he
said. "But what you did for Neville
tonight - I really appreciate that."
"Save it, Weasel, McGonagall sent us on
the mission," Draco returned evenly,
frowning at the way the sleeve of his
jacket was matted to the dried blood on
his arm. "Diffindo." The sleeve ripped
itself to shreds, and he tugged it off,
before stepping in front of the sink to run
his arm under the tap.
"Yeah, but you could've died protecting
Neville. Most of the curses those Death-
Eaters used were lethal ones." Ron
paused, dragging a lengthy sigh out
before looking back up again. "You think
I could be a part of your team?"
Draco's lips twitched. "Why, Weasel - "
"Don't be a prick about it, Malfoy."
"Force of habit." Draco smirked,
reaching over to the shelf to grab several
phials of blood-replenishing potions,
tossing one to Ron and downing another
in one gulp. "How do I know if I can
trust you?" He asked, his gaze sharp and
shrewd as he stared at Ron.
Ron shrugged and reached into the
pocket of his jacket. Leaning over, he
placed something on the kitchen counter.
When he drew back, Draco saw the
Resurrection Stone sitting neatly on the
counter, the familiar shard of silver
glinting under the dim ceiling light.
"I don't know if I can trust you either,"
Ron replied evenly. "But Hermione
seems to, and that's good enough for
me."
Draco paused. He couldn't sworn he
heard a faint rustle somewhere close, but
he couldn't be entirely sure. Turning
back to Ron, he gave a short nod.
"Okay."
"Really?"
"Don't look so bloody hopeful, Weasel,
it's not like I agreed to marry you."
"I'm already regretting this." Ron rolled
his eyes and began to head out of the
kitchen.
"Weasley."
Ron turned; evidently surprised by the
fact that Draco had called him by his
surname instead of his general
diminutive nickname.
"Granger seems to think very highly of
you, regardless of how much she can
remember," Draco said quietly. "She'll
be glad to know that you're on her side."
Ron blinked. And blinked again. And
blinked several more times.
"For Salazar's sake, if you fucking cry -
"
"You couldn't stay nice for ten seconds?
Bloody bipolar ferret." Ron scowled,
glancing away and dragging the sleeve
of his jacket roughly across his eyes.
"See you tomorrow, Malfoy."
"Don't you dare fucking return - "
But Ron had already apparated off and
Draco was left alone in the kitchen.
Or perhaps not completely alone.
He leaned back against the counter,
tilting his head as he studied the kitchen
counter carefully. Crossing the kitchen in
three strides, he reached out, fingers
gripping tightly around the fabric that he
felt just inches above the kitchen counter.
He dragged the Cloak away, tossing it to
the side, and Hermione blinked. She'd
barely caught a glimpse of his tousled
blond hair and flashing silver eyes
before his lips were on hers.
Her eyes fell shut, and then he was
kissing her fervently, nipping at her lips
again and again and again until she could
barely keep count. His fingers carded
through her tangled brown locks and she
heard the low, satisfied hum deep in his
throat when she snapped out of her
surprise and began to kiss him back
eagerly, sliding her tongue lightly against
his when his lips parted.
But he was pulling back all too soon,
their breaths clashing as a hairsbreadth
separated them. "I'm sorry," he said,
almost brokenly, and she felt her chest
clench at his voice. "You have no idea
how fucking sorry I am, Hermione."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she
pulled back, lifting her palm up to rest
against his bruised cheek. "What're you
apologising for?"
"For the Cruciatus you took earlier. I
should've been there, I shouldn't have
bloody apparated off and I should've
fucking killed that bastard before he - "
Now she raised her other hand to his
other cheek, lifting his head so that his
gaze was locked on hers. "Draco," she
said softly, "it wasn't your fault."
"But - "
"I mean it. I know you want to keep me
safe and I appreciate that. I want to keep
you safe too and, frankly, if I could,
never let you out of my sight. I'd portkey
the both of us out of here to some place
far away, where nothing, no hex, no
curse, no spell can ever harm us again."
She reached for one of his hands,
pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles, the
same way she'd done so long ago, before
meeting his eyes. "But it's a war. It's a
war and sometimes you're going to come
back with bruises and sometimes I'm
going to come back with scars. Getting
hurt is just an occupational hazard."
"You're throwing my words back at me."
His eyes narrowed when her lips curled
into a teasing smile, clearly
remembering what he'd once said to her
months ago.
"I am."
He was silent for a long moment. And
then he exhaled, his forehead resting
gently against hers as he shut his eyes.
"You know I can't lose you again," he
mumbled, his voice low and almost
inaudible.
"Never. I'm here," she reached up to sift
her fingers through his blond hair, before
pressing her other palm against his chest,
right above his heart, "and here," she
promised, leaning forward, her lips
ghosting a kiss on his. "Always."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Andromeda returned the next morning,

looking equal parts exhausted and
worried. Neville was with her, the dark
circles around his eyes suggesting that he
hadn't slept all night. Ron, on the other
hand, looked refreshed and alert.
Hermione, who was an early riser,
greeted them cheerfully before getting up
to boil a pot of tea for them. "Is the
Order alright?" She inquired, after
hugging Andromeda tightly. The older
woman seemed relieved to see her, and
returned the hug with equal force.
"They're fine, for the time being," said
Andromeda, settling down into the chair
next to Ron, while Neville took a seat
opposite them. "Shacklebolt's busy
recruiting as many people as he can. And
Neville's due to make a public speech
sometime this afternoon."
"Really, Neville?" Hermione smiled at
her friend, who looked faintly
embarrassed.
"Well - I'm not a fan of public speeches,
but I couldn't say no."
"It's inevitable because he's the face of
the Order," Andromeda explained,
reaching across the table to pat Neville's
arm comfortingly. "Just read the cue
cards that Arthur made for you and you'll
be fine."
Hermione's ears perked up at the
familiar name, and she turned to Ron.
"Your father?"
Ron grinned. "Yeah, he's one of the
leaders of the Order."
"How is he?"
"He's well, Hermione, he and the rest of
the family. I told him that you probably
wouldn't like to see too many people at
once, so he and my Mum have been
delaying coming over to visit."
Hermione couldn't help but sigh in relief,
giving Ron a grateful nod. She did want
to see the rest of the Weasleys, but it was
already difficult trying to reconnect with
so many of her old friends. Harry had
been easy to talk to, and she'd warmed
up to Luna after all the missions they had
together. But Ginny, Ron and Neville
were still three jumbled puzzles that she
had to sort through, seven years of
forgotten friendships that she had to
catch up with.
"...so will you be coming?"
Hermione looked blankly at Neville,
belatedly realising that he was talking to
her. She blinked. "What?"
Neville grinned. "I was asking if you
wanted to come hear my speech. It's just
at one of the other bases. The whole
Order will be there. Harry and Ginny
already agreed to go."
"I'll be going too," interjected Ron.
"Oh." Hermione faltered, wondering if
she could get Draco and the other
Slytherins to come along with her. "Um -
"
"It'd be nice to have support. I'm very
nervous in front of big crowds."
When put that way, how could she
possibly say no? "Okay."
"Great," Neville's eyes lit up and he got
to his feet. "I should probably get going.
Have to practice in front of the mirror."
"You could practice in front of Teddy
and Grus," Andromeda offered
graciously.
"Oh, great, that works too." And Neville
immediately went to find the two of
them, with Andromeda in tow as she led
him to the sitting room. Moments later,
his voice was echoing through the
hallway as he delivered an enthusiastic,
passionate speech to Andromeda, the
toddler and the house-elf in one of the
rooms.
Ron and Hermione exchanged amused
looks. Then Ron sighed; his previously
cheery look faltering rapidly and
Hermione raised her eyebrows in
concern, watching him with keen
perceptiveness. "Is there something you
wanted to talk to me about?" She asked.
"Actually - yes," he admitted quietly. His
gaze flickered up and locked on hers.
"But before you say anything, just let me
get it all out, because I don't know if I'll
ever have the courage to repeat myself.
Honestly, I'm just so terribly sorry about
what I did - "
"Ron." She reached across the table to
still his hands, where his fingers were
drumming an erratic beat on the table.
Smiling at his confused look, she shook
her head and said, "you can tell me
anything."
He took a deep breath and told her.
Everything. From the moment the war
was lost, to the moment he lost her. From
the first spell that knocked her off the
broom to the spell that knocked her life
off its course. His words were
interspersed with awkward coughs and
shaky breaths and clammy hands as he
reached over to grasp her fingers, blue
eyes wide and pleading for her to
understand. His guilt was palpable, the
remorse crushing and by the end of it, he
was just a shaking, haggard mess
struggling to breathe.
She smiled when he was done. Her eyes
were teary at his confession, but there
wasn't an ounce of anger as she returned
his grip, fingers interweaving through his
tightly. "Ron - "
"Hey, Red, what's for breakfast - "
Hermione's head snapped up. Theo had
just entered the kitchen with Draco
following at a more leisurely pace some
distance behind him. She didn't miss the
way Theo's mouth fell open in surprise,
or the way Draco froze by the doorway.
"What's going on?" Theo all but
demanded, his eyes quickly dipping
down to her fingers that were
intertwined with Ron's. "Red, what the
hell are you doing?"
"Not now, Theo," she said calmly, as
Ron turned away in embarrassment. He
tried to pull away from her grasp but she
kept a firm hold on him. In spite of the
fact that she'd forgotten Ron, she knew
that he was one of the most important in
her life, and therefore took precedence
in a situation such as this. "Come back in
fifteen minutes."
"But Red - "
"Not now, Theo, please."
Her voice gave no leeway for
arguments, and Theo exited the room
with an annoyed huff. She met Draco's
gaze and, to her surprise, he didn't seem
angry at all - simply curious. His silver-
eyed gaze sharpened, a silent look
exchanged between them, and she knew
all at once that he was perfectly aware
of what Ron had just told her.
"Fifteen minutes," she repeated, and he
nodded before leaving the kitchen.
Picking up her wand, she cast a quick
Muffliato before turning back to the
subdued wizard sitting opposite her.
"Ron - the truth is," she paused,
worrying her lip lightly before she
continued, "I know."
Ron's eyes flew to hers. "What?"
"I know. Well, suspected it, really, but
when am I ever wrong?" She grinned
impishly, before straightening her face
again and pressing on. "I guessed it
when I was going through Draco's
library some months ago - reading up
about memory charms and such. I figured
it had to be a poorly-performed
Obliviate charm, only I didn't know who
did it."
"Merlin, how are you not mad at me?"
She looked startled. "Am I supposed to
be?"
"Preferably not. Though I wouldn't
blame you if you were," he added
sheepishly.
"Well, no," she mused thoughtfully, "I'm
honestly not. Look, I understand why you
did it. You wanted to keep me safe. I
would've done it to myself too. It was
the most rational solution at that point."
Ron seemed overwhelmed all of a
sudden, and he quickly ducked his head
down, swallowing hard before looking
back at her. "Thanks, 'Mione."
With a chuckle, she went around the
table and wrapped her arms around his
shoulders. With the rest of the D.A., it
had been awkward - but somehow, with
Ron and Harry, affectionate gestures like
these were easier. "We're okay," she
said, smiling when he returned the hug
tightly.
After awhile, she pulled back and took a
step away, but he stopped her
unexpectedly. "There's something else."
When she turned around to face him, he
faltered for a moment before gathering
his courage. "If you hadn't lost your
memories - or if you had regained your
memories of me, us, sooner...do you ever
think you could have - we could have..."
His sentence remained unfinished but the
implications were clear. Hermione's
gaze automatically drifted over to the
living room, honing in on the blonde
wizard who was chatting with Theo.
Theo had probably made one of his witty
remarks again, and she watched as an
amused smirk bloomed on Draco's face,
his silver eyes glinting in good humour
and his posture relaxed.
"I think I know your answer," Ron said
quietly, following the line of Hermione's
vision. She shot him an apologetic look
and he shook his head, shrugging good-
naturedly. "It's alright, 'Mione, it's been
three years and I'm over it. But a
subconscious part of me had always
wondered, you know?"
Hermione did know. Because Draco had
wondered the same thing previously, so
it wasn't too far-fetched a notion. But the
notion was quickly obliterated when
Draco, as though sensing someone's gaze
on him, randomly turned his head in their
direction. His eyes locked on hers and
his lips twitched in a tiny smile before
he turned back to Theo.
And she realised, then, that there was no
more room for what-ifs or could've-
beens. All that mattered now was the
present and, perhaps, the future - which,
in spite of the devastating war, now
glittered brighter than ever with Draco
Malfoy in the spotlight.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It turned out that Draco and Theo were

less than enthusiastic about going to
Neville's speech. The two of them sat on
the sofa later that day, Theo with a
scowl on his face and arms folded
stubbornly across his chest. And Draco
looked like he was about to die of sheer
boredom.
"Please," Hermione gave them her best
persuasive look. "Do it for me?"
"No!" Theo replied heatedly. "I don't
like Longbottom. I don't like the Order.
Why the hell should I suffer through
hours of Longbottom gabbling away
while the Order kisses his bloody feet?"
Hermione huffed, and turned to the other
blond wizard, who gazed back at her
insolently. Merlin, she loved him but he
honestly got on her nerves sometimes.
"Draco - "
"No."
Hermione sighed and shot a helpless
look at Pansy and Blaise, both of whom
looked thoroughly entertained just
listening in to the conversation. Luna, on
the other hand, was seated on the
armchair opposite, reading a book and
looking thoroughly absorbed in it.
Blaise grinned and leaned forward.
"Draco, mate, it's not going to be that
bad - "
"No."
"Sorry, Red. I tried."
"To be honest," Pansy said to Draco
now, after Blaise leaned back in defeat,
"if you go, you might change the Order's
opinion about you. About us, in general -
"
"No."
Pansy glared at him and gave Hermione
an apologetic shrug. Hermione finally
cleared her throat and got up, faux-
disappointment glimmering in her eyes.
"Okay, then," she said slowly, purposely
avoiding Draco's suspicious gaze. "I
guess I'll just go with my dear friend
Ron, who, by the way, would be more
than delighted to go with me - "
"Fucking fine, I'll go!"
Draco threw her a frosty glare when she
grinned in triumph, and Hermione then
turned to the other wizard, who still
looked absolutely unmoving. "Theo?"
"We're not in a relationship, Red,
nothing you say or do will make me go
with you."
"You know," Luna mused lightly, her
eyes still focused on her book, "I hear
the Patil twins are unattached at the
moment and - "
"Let's go!" Theo exclaimed, looking
marginally happier now as he rushed
towards the kitchen counter to grab his
wand. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
"Merlin, Theo," Blaise shook his head in
mirth when Theo came over to pull him
and Pansy to their feet, "it's not for
another hour."
"Yes, and we cannot be late! Draco, stop
looking like someone pissed on your
parade and get your bloody arse off the
sofa! And okay, I know, Pansy, I'll take a
bloody shower - ten showers, alright?"
Theo practically ran up the stairs,
leaving the rest of them staring after him
in equal parts amusement and disbelief.
Pansy grinned at Luna. "That was
actually a pretty clever trick."
Luna blinked. "Was it? I was actually
going to say that the Patil twins were
unattached and had a bad case of
Wrackspurts in their ears. But I guess
Theo doesn't need to know that," she
added cheerfully, and calmly turned the
page.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Granger, I'm not sure how Muggle

relationships work, but I'd like a
breakup - assuming that's the correct
term for it?"
Hermione turned to Draco, her lips
twitching in amusement as she stared up
at his stoic face. After Harry and Ginny
had arrived, the eight of them had
headed to the other base for Neville's
speech. They were now making their
way towards the public square just a
short distance from the base where the
rest of the Order was, along with
random citizens eager to aid the Order to
bring an end to the war.
While Theo was ahead, looking around
excitedly for the Patil twins, Draco was
less than enthusiastic and lagged behind
with Hermione, who was also not
particularly thrilled to see the rest of the
Order all at once. It was daunting, to say
the least.
"That is the correct term for it,"
Hermione humoured him now, trying to
keep a straight face as she walked
alongside him. "And might I ask why?"
"For using the Weasel as a scare tactic.
Although, I have to admit that that was a
very Slytherin move," he added, after a
pause.
"Well, I learnt from the best. Still want a
breakup?"
"To hell with it," he shook his head. "I'm
going nowhere."
She smiled. "Good."
The two of them soon caught up with the
others. The Order members were
welcoming Harry, Ginny and Luna with
open arms. It was clear to see that Harry,
despite having lost the war, was still
some sort of hero in their eyes, and he
was quickly accosted by his friends.
Ginny and Luna were also quickly lost
within the crowd, leaving the four
Slytherins and Hermione standing at the
back of the square, looking rather out of
place.
Draco was aware of the many suspicious
glances cast their way, and he met each
stare evenly with his stone-cold grey
eyes. Some of the D.A. members were
waving Hermione over and he nudged
her. "You can go if you want to,
Granger."
"Who said I wanted to go anywhere?"
She returned indignantly, sounding every
bit like the stubborn, fiery-tempered
witch back during her Hogwarts days.
"I'm staying right here with you." She
dragged his arm around her waist firmly,
ignoring the blatant stares of surprise
from the people around them.
"Oh, look, they're making Harry go up
there." Pansy pointed to the makeshift
podium up ahead, where Hagrid was
pushing Harry up.
Harry's presence brought a resounding
cheer to the crowd as he reluctantly took
his place next to Ron, who seemed to be
on guard to the right of the stage.
Shacklebolt and Mundungus Fletcher
were standing on opposite sides of
Neville. Once the place was silent,
Shacklebolt began to introduce Neville,
whose face was white as a sheet.
Theo surveyed the proceedings with a
mischievous grin on his face. "Do you
think it'd be entirely inappropriate if I
shot Longbottom with a Tarantellegra?"
Hermione pulled Theo's hand down
when he began to lift his wand. "Theo!"
"Aw, Red, you're ruining my fun," Theo
whined, only to be shushed by Blaise as
Neville began his speech.
Neville cleared his throat, looking out at
the hundred over faces that stared
expectantly back at him. He cast a
Sonorous spell on his throat so that his
voice was amplified across the square,
loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Today is a very special day," Neville
began, looking more confident now.
"We're gathered here for a common
cause. For the past three years, we've
lived in fear, wondering if each day
would be our last. But today, I say: no
more hiding - "
Theo rolled his eyes. "Are my ears
bleeding? Because I think - "
"Theo, shut up for a bit," Draco said,
causing the others to look at him. He'd
been staring up at the sky for almost half
a minute now, a frown on his face and a
sudden stiffness to his posture.
Something was different. The air was
unusually still, the perfect calm before a
terrifying storm.
Blaise took out his wand, and the others
quickly followed. But as Hermione
reached into her satchel to make sure her
Cloak was there, she noticed something
that made her gasp. "Draco! Look at your
Mark!"
True enough, Draco's Mark had
darkened to a shade of the most sinister
black. And then, mere seconds later,
Draco felt a sharp, searing pain through
his arm. "Fuck," he gasped, grasping
onto Theo beside him. Hermione quickly
gave him a numbing potion, along with a
blood-replenishing one.
She frowned as the other three Slytherins
hovered around him anxiously, forcing
Draco to drink both of the potions. This
was the third time his Mark was
bleeding. The first was back at the
Ruins, and the second was the night
before. What triggered it?
And, suddenly, she knew.
"Merlin," her eyes widened in horror.
"Draco, your Mark's a tracker!"
Realisation dawned on him in mere
seconds and he quickly wrenched
himself away, staggering back from the
group. The other three Slytherins looked
utterly confused and Blaise reached for
Draco. "What's going on?"
"That Mark!" Hermione gripped Draco
by the sleeve, refusing to let him go even
as he pulled back from her. She turned to
the others, who were staring at her in
alarm. "Draco's Mark is jet black
because it's still active! You-Know-Who
must've found some way to reverse the
spell such that it hones in on him instead.
That's why Draco was the one who
triggered the siren back at the Ruins, and
that's why we were ambushed at the
Snatcher camp last night!"
"And now I have to leave," Draco
hissed, shrugging Theo away when his
friend clamped a hand down on his
shoulder. "If I could lead them far away
from here - " but the expression on his
face stilled when he felt the wind
change. His gaze locked on Hermione's.
"It's too late."
He drew his wand just as the first Death-
Eater flew on overhead and took aim.
"Stupefy!" The Death-Eater fell right off
his broom, plummeting towards the
crowd below.
Hermione reacted equally as quickly.
"Aresto Momentum!"
The Death-Eater slowed until he
tumbled to the ground, but that was
sufficient for the entire crowd to explode
into pandemonium. There were shouts
and screams as Hermione turned to
Draco, feeling her heart hammering in
her chest but waiting for him to give his
orders. The other Slytherins were also
calm, holding their ground amidst the
chaos surrounding them.
"Get as many people as you can to the
base," Draco directed, his jaw clenched
as he ignored the bleeding on his
forearm. "Zabini, you're in charge of
making sure the base is untouched, don't
let the Death-Eaters destroy that.
Parkinson, lead these people towards it,
fend off any Death-Eaters along the way.
Hermione, get as many members of the
Order to help. Theo, get on that stage
and protect Longbottom."
Blaise, Pansy and Theo quickly
dispersed, but Hermione lingered behind
to press a quick kiss on Draco's lips.
"I'll see you at Andromeda's when this is
over," he whispered against her lips.
"I'll be waiting," she promised, smiling
at him before disappearing into the
crowd.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Head down this street and turn left,"

Pansy directed a group of people who
managed to escape in time. Some of
them were sobbing hysterically while
others simply looked frightened.
"Hurry."
One of them screamed, and Pansy
whirled around, narrowly ducking the
hex that a Death-Eater shot her way.
"Protego Totalum!" She quickly put up a
powerful shield charm, before waving
the people behind her. "Go, get out of
here!"
Several other people ran down the
street, and she gritted her teeth, trying to
hold off the Death-Eater's hexes for as
long as she could. But not for long now.
The shield was fading and she feared
that she'd be hex if she dropped the
shield for just one second.
Then, out of nowhere, there came a
powerful red light. "Stupefy!"
The Death-Eater fell to the floor,
unconscious, and Pansy whipped her
head around, her mouth falling open
when she saw another Death-Eater
standing some distance away. The
Death-Eater raised their mask. "Hello,
Pansy."
"Maisie?" Pansy shook her head in
disbelief when the other girl grinned
widely at her. "What're you doing here?"
"Saving your life, of course. I've been
wanting to do that since the mission in
Azkaban, when you didn't have a
portkey." She replaced her mask and
nodded. "Well, duty calls. Be careful,
Pansy, not all Death-Eaters are kind-
hearted like me."
She apparated off without another word,
and Pansy was left staring at the empty
street. Someone came running up, their
footfalls loud and frantic along the rocky
pavement.
"Who was that?" Luna was out of breath
as she stepped up next to Pansy, clearly
having run quite a long distance. She
looked utterly befuddled by the events
that had just transpired.
Pansy just smiled. "A good Death-
Eater."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The public square was by now in

complete chaos. Shacklebolt and
Mundungus Fletcher and many other
wizards and witches from the Order
were in the middle of the square, battling
any Death-Eater that crossed paths with
them. But the fight on the stage was just
as messy, if not worse, because the
Death-Eaters seemed intent on targeting
Neville, who was still battling from his
position on the stage, with Theo, Harry
and Ron right next to him.
Casting a wordless Stunning spell on a
nearby Death-Eater, Draco grabbed an
abandoned broom that lay on the ground
several feet away. "Hey, Weaselette," he
called Ginny, who was duelling a short
distance away from him ever since the
fight had begun. She turned, and he
tossed her the broom. "Aerial siege.
Go."
"This should be fun." Ginny grinned and
climbed on, taking off immediately.
Draco quickly found another abandoned
broom some way off and hopped on;
navigating through a flurry of activity as
he flew threw the square, casting hexes
at any Death-Eater in his path. He
paused by the stage, throwing a blasting
spell at the Death-Eater that was battling
Ron.
Ron turned to Draco, who simply
smirked. "Fancy fighting in mid-air,
Weasel?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Ron spun
round, adrenaline pumping through his
veins as he raced off the stage, reaching
out for a Death-Eater who flew low
overhead. He reached out, grabbing onto
the edge of the broom, his sudden weight
causing the Death-Eater to lose balance
and tumble to the ground.
Draco swerved past Ron, casting
several hexes along the way. "Remember
that wonderful song I composed in your
honour some years ago? The one that
made you lose at Quidditch?"
"I swear, Malfoy, if you sing that - "
Draco's smirk only widened. "Weasley
cannot save a thing, he cannot block a
single thing - "
"I'm going to kill you, Malfoy!" Ron
yelled, his face turning a worrisome
shade of red, prompting several people
around to look their way. Draco took off
and Ron quickly followed. "Merlin,
you're such a prick, even in the middle
of a battle - "
"It's called having fun, Weasel."
"It's called being a bloody tosser - " but
Ron swerved quickly when a hex flew
his way from a nearby Death-Eater who
was heading their way.
"Everte Statum." Draco threw the Death-
Eater off his broom and chuckled.
"You're terrible at multi-tasking. And
insulting me. What're you good at,
exactly?"
"Coming up with nicknames, Amazing
Bouncing Ferret."
Draco rolled his eyes before navigating
his way through to help Ginny, who was
being tailed by two Death-Eaters. He
took one of them down, leaving Ron to
finish off the other. From this height, he
could see everything perfectly - the
incoming Death-Eaters, the battle below
and even Hermione, weaving her way
through the crowd, casting several
surreptitious hexes here and there before
she disappeared altogether underneath
the Cloak.
"Malfoy!" Ginny waved at him from a
far distance off and pointed in an
arbitrary direction. Her eyes were wide
with evident fear. "Two o'clock!"
Draco and Ron turned, only to see a
hoard of Death-Eaters flying in on their
brooms, far too many to even count.
There was Bellatrix's laughter in the far
distance, although she was nowhere in
sight.
Draco immediately veered off course
and back towards the square. "Call for
retreat, Weasel," he called over his
shoulder, knowing full well when to
back down when the situation called for
it. He flew low through the crowd,
taking down several Death-Eaters along
the way as Ron yelled for a retreat
behind him.
Up on the stage, Theo was still in the
thick of battle beside Neville and Harry,
and Draco immediately went up to them,
throwing aside the broom on the way.
"Confringo!" He hurled a blasting spell
straight through over Theo's shoulder,
before pulling Neville out of the way.
"Get back to Andromeda's now," he
said, pushing the three of them down the
stage and jumping off after them.
"But we can take them!" Theo seemed
reluctant and turned to look back at the
Death-Eaters were were merely
scorched by the blast but not entirely
hurt.
"No, we can't," Draco said shortly,
shoving Theo away from a hex that flew
near him. "Get Hermione. Get her out of
here."
Theo promptly vanished into the crowd
in search for Hermione, while Draco
followed Harry and Neville from a
distance, ducking and dodging hexes
along the way. They had almost made it
out of the square when Thorfinn Rowle,
one of the top Death-Eaters, appeared in
front of them to block the exit.
"Never thought I'd see you again, Potter,"
Draco heard Rowle say, his attention
focused entirely on Harry. Harry
momentarily froze; ready to block the
hex, but Draco knew what spell was
gathering at the tip of Rowle's wand
before the spell could even be uttered.
And all Draco thought at that instant was
this: The Boy Who Lived cannot die.
His feet were surging forward before he
could even register what he was doing
and he pushed Harry out of the way just
as the spell shot out from Rowle's wand.
"Sectumsempra!"
He heard the curse a split second before
the pain hit him, like sharp blades
slashing right across his chest, so
agonising that the bleeding Mark on his
arm seemed like child's play in
comparison. Draco's vision blurred as
he collapsed on the ground, and he heard
someone - Harry, probably - shout a
furious 'Stupefy!' that made Rowle fly
several feet across the street, slumping
down into an unconscious state.
"Malfoy!" Neville was shaking him
urgently, and then Ron came running
over, a broom in his hand and a
concerned look on his face. "Malfoy!"
Harry knelt down next to him; staring
with the same wide, horrified eyes
Draco remembered seeing so many years
ago. "Shit. Malfoy, just stay awake, we'll
get you out of here - "
But Harry's voice soon faded out into a
blur, and all Draco could think about
was Hermione. Had Theo gotten to
Hermione in time? Was she safe? Was
she - his own thoughts faded out too, and
then there was nothing but darkness.
43 | vulnera

43
vul ner as anentur
Counter curse to Sectumsempra.

It had taken awhile for Theo to find

Hermione, since she'd been under the
Cloak, but they finally met several
streets down, where she was ushering a
group of people towards the base, and
he'd brought her back before the Death-
Eaters could track them down.
Andromeda's house was nothing but
pandemonium when Hermione apparated
back with Theo. Teddy was crying in the
background as Grus hastily soothed him,
while Neville, Pansy and Luna were in
the kitchen searching through the
shelves. There was a crowd surrounding
the sofa, yells and shouts as a heated
conversation ensued, Ginny's hysterical
voice and Ron's aggravated one and
Harry's calm one. Several members of
the D.A. were also there, and they were
all drowning each other out with their
frantic input.
"What the hell - " Theo shook his head
and pushed his way through, Hermione
following closely behind.
And when she finally caught a glimpse
of the situation, she felt the air leave her
lungs. Draco was lying there, blood
soaked through his clothes, his shirt
buttons left open to reveal large, slash
wounds across his chest that were still
bleeding freely, his face so startlingly
white that he seemed dead.
Was he dead?
Hermione felt a suffocated sob leave her
throat. No, he couldn't be.
"Fuck," Theo swore and pulled
Hermione towards Draco. Andromeda
and Blaise were mumbling incantations
under their breath, their wands held out
over him. "What happened?"
A babble of voices answered him all at
once, but Hermione heard the words
Sectumsempra somewhere in the mix.
"It's not working," Andromeda said at
last, "I need more blood-replenishing
potion!"
"We're all out!" came Pansy's yell from
the kitchen.
And then there was another flood of
noise as some of the D.A. members
offered to get some potions from the
other bases. Two of them apparated off,
just as Seamus Finnigan raced over with
a bottle of Dittany. "Does this help?"
"No, that's for scarring," Neville
interjected, "it wouldn't work!"
"Harry, just think!" Ginny turned to her
boyfriend, who looked completely
distressed, "you've seen how Snape
healed him the previous time, so try to
remember!"
"I would if I could! But I tried it earlier
and it didn't work. I can't even remember
the incantation for it - vul-something!"
"That is bloody helpful," Theo fired
back heatedly, shooting Harry a look of
aggravation.
Cho Chang pushed through the group
with a book in her hands. "There's no
healing spell here that starts with a V."
And then something just clicked in
Hermione's mind. Yes, there was a
healing spell for this, and she had heard
it loud and clear with her own ears
before, because the healing spell was
used on her.
"I know how to heal him," Hermoine
said abruptly, prompting everyone to
look at her. And then there was a babble
of voices, several people offering their
wands to her all at once, such an
overwhelming chorus of noise. Her heart
was beginning to pound with the sudden
influx of attention, and she felt herself
shaking. Before she could spiral into
another panic attack, she hastily clapped
her hand over her ears. "I want everyone
out!"
"But Hermione - "
"I don't think - "
"No, wait - "
"Out!" She repeated, her voice calm
amidst the chaos. "Now, every single
one of you, please. Only Andromeda
stays behind - and you don't have to go,
Grus! Stay here with Teddy. But the rest
of you, please!" She glared at Theo, who
seemed reluctant to move, and prodded
him with her wand. The group slowly
trickled out of the front door into the
porch, but Hermione quickly stopped
one of them. "Harry, you can stay."
Harry returned to her side. "Hermione,
I'm so sorry - "
"Vulnera Sanentur," she stated quietly,
looking up at him. "Is that the spell?"
His eyes widened. "It sounds familiar - "
"Good enough." She knelt down next to
Andromeda, holding her wand over
Draco's wounds, staring at his
motionless body and willing herself not
to cry. Healing magic had always been
calming for her, and it calmed her now,
just the thought of healing Draco. She
took a deep breath. "Vulnera Sanentur."
To her greatest relief, the blood
immediately stopped flowing from the
slash wounds, but she held up a hand to
stop Andromeda as the older witch
started to fuss over Draco. Quietly, she
repeated the spell two more times,
watching as the deep gashes sealed
themselves up and the remnant blood
stains vanished from his pale skin.
Finally, she pulled back and nodded at
Andromeda. "He's alright now."
"Thank you, Hermione." Andromeda
swept away the tears on her cheeks and
hugged the younger witch, before
heading into the kitchen to create a new
batch of potions.
"He's going to be alright, Hermione,"
Harry's voice was soft as he wrapped a
comforting arm around her shoulder.
"He's going to be fine."
Hermione didn't answer him, wordlessly
staring at Draco's unconscious figure
instead, her fingers reaching up to lock
between his motionless once. Oddly
enough, her eyes were tearless but her
heart felt like it was cracking at the
seams, with the fissures slowly tearing
apart as the brevity of what had
happened to him suddenly dawned on
her.
It almost felt like someone had used
Sectumsempra on her own heart.
And Merlin, it hurt.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Hermione?"
The light from Andromeda's wand lit the
room in a soft, nondescript glow.
Hermione climbed to her feet, pushing
the stool back as she looked at the older
witch standing by the doorway.
"Hermione, have you been sitting there
all night?" She nodded, once. It was
enough for Andromeda to frown in
concern. "You should get some rest. It's
not good for you to keep worrying like
that."
"I can't help it," Hermione said quietly,
sitting back down and summoning
another chair over for Andromeda. She
gazed at Draco, who was lying on the
bed, feeling her heart constrict for the
thousandth time over the past few hours.
"He hasn't woken up. He hasn't even
moved. The only way I know he's alive
is from his breathing, but even then, it's
weak."
Andromeda sat down on the chair with a
heavy sigh. "He's going to be fine,
Hermione - "
"You don't know that," Hermione shook
her head. "That's just what people say
during a war. You're going to be fine.
You're going to be safe. It's all going to
be okay. They're all lies," she looked up,
her gaze meeting Andromeda's squarely,
"aren't they?"
She smiled gently. "I thought Gryffindors
were supposed to be optimistic. I
thought you had a little beacon of hope
that never went out."
"That's the person I used to be. I've been
through the worst of the war where all
hope is extinguished and the only thing
left is basic survival instincts. I'm not
fighting a war, 'Dromeda, I'm surviving
it. And he - " Hermione's voice broke
off, and she swallowed painfully, " - he's
the reason I'm still surviving."
Andromeda was silent for a long time,
and then her arms slowly came around
Hermione. "You know he's my only
family left too, right?" The older witch
said softly. "There's Teddy, but Teddy's
too young to even know what family
means. And, of course, there's that
wretched sister of mine who's so far
gone I can't even call her a sister
anymore. So there's just Draco, and I
was just as frightened as you were
earlier today."
"I know." Hermione smiled faintly at
Andromeda, hugging her back tightly.
"You have me too, by the way."
"I'm glad."
The two sat in silence for a long while.
Then Andromeda left the room, with a
gentle reminder to get some sleep,
shutting the door behind her.
Hermione didn't move for several
minutes. But then, with painstaking
slowness, she got into bed, tucking
herself in the small space next to him.
Reaching for his limp hand, she slid her
fingers through his, resting her cheek
gently against his shoulder. And then her
eyes were no longer dry as tears seeped
past her eyelids and stained his shirt.
She could practically hear his voice in
her head, his tone of dry amusement as
he'd say, "Granger, you'd better bloody
Scourgify this shirt once you're done
snivelling into it." Through her tears, she
almost smiled at the thought of that, even
as the fissures of her heart widened ever
so painfully.
"Draco, are you awake?" She
whispered, searching his pale face for
any signs of movement, if he'd somehow
managed to hear her in his deep stupor -
a flutter of his eyelids, perhaps, or a
flush in his cheeks. But there was none.
She sighed. "Of course not."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco awoke with a stinging soreness in

his chest and an uncomfortable dryness
in his throat. He blinked, trying to recall
what had happened to him. After a few
seconds, it all came back in flashes.
Fighting in the square. Coming face to
face with that bloody Rowle on the
street. Taking a Sectumsempra for saint
Potter.
And Merlin, it wasn't fucking worth it.
He felt like absolute shit.
Glancing down, he saw Hermione
sleeping beside him, her tear-stained
face taut with worry and an unconscious
frown etched between her eyebrows.
His fingers itched to smooth the frown
away, but a more rational part of him
knew that she probably hadn't gotten
much sleep in the past few hours and
he'd just wake her if he did that.
Instead, he shifted, pressing his lips
briefly to the crown of her head before
shutting his eyes again. The
uninterrupted peace wasn't for long.
Moments later, there came a soft creak
as the door opened slowly and a small
boy popped his head in.
Teddy stared at him for a moment, his
eyes wide and frightened, but then his
face lit up. Draco hastily pressed a
finger to his lip and Teddy nodded
vigorously. "Draco!" He whisper-yelled.
"You awake?"
Draco silently summoned his wand over
from the bedside table, casting a
wordless Muffliato on Hermione's
sleeping figure before beckoning Teddy
over. The small boy scampered over,
stepping up on the stool by the bed to get
a better look at Draco.
"Hey, kid," Draco grinned, reaching out
to grasp Teddy by the elbow firmly to
steady him. "Don't wake Hermione,
okay?"
"'Mione sick too?"
"No, just tired. Hand me that glass of
water, Teddy."
Eagerly, with a fervent sort
concentration only seen in a young child,
Teddy grabbed the glass of water from
the bedside table and gave it to Draco.
Draco drank without hesitation, his
parched throat easing up on the
discomfort bit by bit.
"Draco sick?" Teddy asked anxiously,
when Draco handed him the empty glass.
"Gramma says I can't play with Draco."
"No, we can play. Just not outside,
alright?"
"Okay!" The boy stood with his hands
braced on the side of the bed, staring
expectantly at Draco over Hermione's
wild mop of curls.
Draco wracked his brains for a bit,
before an idea suddenly struck him. He
reached over, tapping the tip of his wand
to Teddy's shirt. Instantly, Teddy's shirt
turned a bright shade of orange and the
young boy laughed in fascination. "Now
what colour's your hair, Teddy?"
He frowned, eyes looking up as he tried
to catch a glimpse of his hair. "I dunno."
Draco tapped his wand to the empty
glass in Teddy's hands, swiftly
transfiguring it into a mirror and bringing
it up so that Teddy could see his own
reflection. "Brown. Your hair's brown.
Now try turning it to orange. Same
colour as your shirt."
Teddy concentrated, staring hard at the
mirror. The kid had done it several times
before, even if it was unknowingly.
Draco had seen Teddy sporting the same
shade of white blonde that matched his
own exactly, and the same mop of curls
that was equally as unruly as Hermione's
were. But more often than not, Teddy's
hair was brown and straight like
Andromeda's, which made sense
because the two were almost
inseparable.
So when Teddy's hair now turned a slow
orange, Draco wasn't surprised. "I did, I
did!" Teddy whispered excitedly.
Draco grinned. "Good job. Now try
this."
Teddy's shirt turned a dark shade of
green when Draco pointed his wand to
it, and the boy promptly screwed up his
features in blatant concentration as he
stared into the mirror. He'd just
successfully changed his hair colour
when the door opened and Andromeda
stepped in.
She blinked in evident surprise at Draco,
who grinned lazily back at her, and then
at her grandson. Her eyes widened to the
size of saucers. "Oh, sweet Merlin." She
shook her head, quickly heading towards
them. "Draco, I'm really glad you're
awake now, but honestly, your Slytherin
pride is taking itself to ridiculous,
gravity-defying heights."
"Come on, 'Dromeda, look at him and
tell me he doesn't look good in green."
"Draco, everyone and everything looks
best in green to you. Don't think I haven't
noticed the fact that you and Theo have
been secretly changing all the bath
towels and pillow-cases to green. You
even turned the walls of my living room
green!"
Draco simply smirked. Perhaps he and
Theo weren't as surreptitious as they
thought they were. Well, the green walls
looked bloody fantastic with the green
cushions in the living room anyway.
"Gramma, look at me!" Teddy chirped
excitedly, pointing to his hair and
waving the mirror at her. "I'm a Sl-
Slythe-in!"
"So young, so wise," Draco said, with
an evidently pleased expression on his
face. "Potter-the-godfather, on the other
hand, will probably have a heart attack."
"He will once he sees Teddy's hair. So
will everyone else in the vicinity. And
Grus will try to hang himself thinking
that he wrecked Teddy." Andromeda shot
him a flat look. "Change it back, please."
"Fine." Draco huffed, reaching over to
take the mirror away from the boy. "Hey,
Teddy, see this?" He pointed to his own
head, picking a lock of his own blond
hair between his fingertips. The boy
nodded. "Change your hair. We can
match."
Teddy was clearly delighted by the idea
and promptly began to focus on Draco's
hair, changing his own to the same
shade. "We match now?"
"Like a pair of heart-stopping gorgeous
twins."
Andromeda looked torn between
amusement and annoyance, and she
rolled her eyes. "Now this is really
going to give Harry a heart attack."
Picking Teddy up, she leaned over and
pressed a quick kiss to Draco's
forehead. "Good to have you back," she
said softly, sounding rather choked up
now. "Don't ever scare me like that
again."
"I'll try not to, 'Dromeda." Draco
returned, quieter now, watching as
Andromeda left the room with Teddy.
The door shut with a click and he
silently removed the muffling charm on
Hermione before leaning over to set his
wand down on the table.
But it rolled off the table, falling onto the
ground with a sharp clatter, and Draco
swore under his breath when Hermione
began to stir. And then she was slowly
pushing herself up, running a haphazard
hand through her stubborn curls as she
gazed down at him. He felt his heart
clench, not because of the pain in his
chest, but because she looked so damned
beautiful, even with the tear-stained
cheeks and dark circles under her eyes.
"Morning, Granger."
She blinked.
"Granger?"
She blinked again.
"No, this isn't a hallucination. You can
kiss me if you want to find out."
The blank expression on her face
immediately crumpled into one of utter
relief and she passed her hands
tentatively across his chest, looking at
him with nothing but worry in her eyes.
"Are you alright? Does it still hurt?"
"Been better," he replied honestly,
reaching up to slide his palm up her
cheek. He drew her down slowly,
staring at her with the kind of focus that
committed every inch of her beautiful
features to memory - the tremble of her
full lips, the fresh streak of tears racing
down her freckled cheeks and the
worried crease on her forehead.
She was leaning down to kiss him before
he could, and he was more than willing
to let her take the reigns on this one. She
met him at the perfect angle, lips gentle
but fervent on his, like she was trying to
prove to herself that he was real. He shut
his eyes, breathed her in, resisting the
urge to groan when she pulled back
reluctantly.
"I was so scared," she whispered,
sounding every bit as vulnerable and
broken as when he first found her so
many months ago. "I thought I'd lost you -
"
He cut her off by leaning up, capturing
her lips with his with a certain kind of
determination to prove to her that he was
real. No tongue, no teeth, just lips on
lips, but it was a searing, desperate,
almost bruising kind of kiss that dragged
the oxygen from his lungs, but who
needed oxygen when there was her, just
her, and that alone was enough to
suffice?
And when he finally let up, he didn't let
her go far, instead keeping her firmly in
place so that his lips were still brushing
hers when he spoke.
"Never, Granger."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The house was still quiet when Draco

and Hermione headed downstairs. It was
only half-past seven, but it was apparent
that everyone else was asleep; apart
from Andromeda, who was in the
kitchen, and Grus and Teddy, who were
outside in the garden.
Andromeda greeted them brightly when
they entered the kitchen, and they gave
her a full account of the previous day's
events over breakfast. She didn't look
surprised to hear that Draco's Mark
happened to be a tracker. "Well, it makes
perfect sense," she said calmly. "The
Mark reeks of Dark Magic."
"Yes, but I'm a little confused,"
Hermione interjected, with a puzzled
frown. "Why doesn't You-Know-Who
just track Draco down here?"
"It might have something to do with the
charms on this house. Shacklebolt's laid
up some basic charms, but I have made a
couple of my own, and got Grus to
perform some magic for added
protection. House-elves have a different
brand of magic altogether, as you know,
and I believe it can be more powerful
than ours are."
"So while I'm here, the Dark Lord can't
track me down?" Draco reaffirmed,
looking at Andromeda for clarification.
She nodded, and a faint shade of relief
flickered in his normally indifferent
expression.
Hermione, on the other hand, was more
than glad to know that Draco would be
safe here. "House-elves are clever," she
mused, "honestly, I think they should be
given wands and treated like normal
human beings - "
"Oh, this is S.P.E.W. all over again!"
Came a familiar voice behind them.
Luna breezed into the kitchen wearing a
peculiar dress that seemed like it had
been sewn together using different
pieces of fabric. She grinned brightly at
Draco, looking thoroughly pleased to see
him awake now, and poured herself a
mug of tea. "Hello, Draco, it's lovely to
see that pink flush of health on your
cheeks again - "
"Pink what of what on my fucking
what?"
Hermione blinked, looking entirely
confused. "And what in Merlin's name is
SPEW?"
"It's S.P.E.W.," Luna corrected. "Short
for The Society for the Promotion of
Elfish Welfare, which campaigns for the
rights of house-elves to be treated better
and not like servants. You were the one
who started it. Made a lot of badges and
had an admission fee of two Sickles. But
it didn't go very well, because a lot of
people didn't want to join, and a lot of
the elves actually liked serving their
masters."
"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione said
thoughtfully. "That makes sense. It would
be an insult to the elves to undermine
something they actually like doing."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Are you
actually admitting that you were...wrong,
Granger?"
"Not at all! I think it's a good campaign,
but I might have been rather short-
sighted about it."
"And where was this trait of self-
introspection years ago when you called
me a filthy-rich snob who cared for no
one but himself?"
She simply smiled. "But you were a
filthy-rich snob who cared for no one but
himself."
He opened his mouth to reply, but the
sudden cracks of apparition in the living
room made them turn, only to see Harry
rushing into the kitchen, with Ginny right
behind him. He stopped short by the
doorway, looking like he could hardly
believe his eyes as he stared at Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes. "The words are
'good morning', Potter, and no, it's not a
good morning when I have to see your
face - " but his insult fell flat when
Ginny threw her arms around him in a
frantic, enthusiastic hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"If you want to thank me, Weaselette,
kindly get your hands off me." Draco
said flatly, shooting a desperate glance
at Hermione, whose grin simply
widened in evident amusement.
Ginny pulled back, a look of sheer
gratitude on her face. Harry, on the other
hand, was still fumbling around for the
right words to say. "I really appreciate
what you did, Malfoy," he said, at last,
his voice choked with emotion, "I still
remember how I hit you with that same
spell years ago, and now you took that
same spell for me. I can't thank you
enough - "
But when he took two steps closer,
Draco hastily dragged his chair closer to
Hermione, sneering at him with mild
disgust. "Potter, if you fucking hug me or
anything I swear on Salazar's grave that
I'll use a Sectumsempra on you."
At his words, Harry rolled his eyes, the
emotional moment clearly gone in an
instant. "Okay, okay, no need for violent
threats," he muttered, stepping firmly
away from Draco and lifting his hand
instead. "But thanks nonetheless, Malfoy.
Truce?"
Draco glared at Harry's hand like it was
a particularly offensive object. "And end
all our years of mutual hatred for each
other? I don't think so. Granger, you
shake his hand."
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Hermione
gestured for Harry and Ginny to take a
seat at the table. Luna quickly got up,
helping Andromeda whip up a new batch
of breakfast. "Let's just eat and Draco
will try to pretend like he hates you all
when he really doesn't."
"Actually, I really do - "
"Andromeda!" The sound of footsteps
thundering down the stairs made the
conversation in the kitchen cease
abruptly. Moments later, Theo and Pansy
burst into the kitchen with wide-eyes and
horrified looks on their faces. They
didn't notice the others sitting at the table
as they swarmed round Andromeda,
bombarding her with a flurry of
questions.
"We can't find Draco!" Theo hollered in
a panic.
Pansy nodded frantically. "He's not in
his bed, he's not anywhere!"
"That's because he's sitting right here,"
Draco drawled calmly.
Theo and Pansy whirled round. There
was a beat of astonished silence, and
then Pansy burst into a flood of tears as
she flung her arms around his neck. "I
can't believe you almost died!" She
cried, amidst a lengthy bout of sniffling,
"do you know how scared we all were?"
"You prick!" Theo punched Draco on the
shoulder, making him flinch in pain,
before hugging him tightly as well. "I
will kill you myself if you ever do that
again!"
Ginny surveyed the scene before her
with a wicked grin. "And you thought I
was the melodramatic one," she said to
Draco, who threw her a frosty glare.
"Guys, lay off him," Blaise strolled into
the kitchen at a leisurely pace. He
quickly extracted Theo and Pansy,
before giving Draco a brief clap on the
back, careful not to aggravate his
injuries. "Good to have you back, mate.
And they're right - don't ever do that
again."
"It's an occupational hazard," Draco
mumbled, before returning to his
breakfast.
Hermione stared at him. She knew that
he was more than stressing his chest and
lungs by just being here, but he'd insisted
on coming down to breakfast. But it was
clear that his injuries were acting up
again. The others at the table soon began
to talk about the next mission, and Draco
surreptitiously hid a cough behind a
chorus of laughter. Hermione tapped her
wand to his chest, silently mumbling an
incantation for a soothing spell under his
breath, and he shot her a grateful look.
He drowned out the rest of the
conversation and was more than happy
to excuse himself from the table after
breakfast, heading upstairs to catch up
on some sleep. Once he was in the
bedroom, he threw himself down on the
bed, feeling his head throb with fatigue.
"Tired?" Hermione slipped into the
room, shutting the door gently behind
her. She looked glad to leave the riotous
conversation behind too.
"Exhausted."
"Okay," she faltered. He noticed the way
she looked equally as tired as he was,
but hung back unsurely, looking rather
reluctant to climb into bed next to him.
"Go to sleep then."
He paused. "Not without you."
"But your injuries - "
"Really, Hermione." His voice was quiet
now, his silver-eyed gaze boring into
hers. "Not without you."
A smile glossed her lips and she was
next to him in the blink of an eye, her
bare feet pressed up against his legs and
her unruly curls tickling his chin. Her
breaths were a steady rhythm that lulled
him in, her fingers tracing an arbitrary
pattern on his shoulder.
And this time, sleep no longer eluded
him.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco was more than annoyed to learn

from Andromeda that he was to be
confined to bed-rest for the next two
weeks, especially when Shacklebolt
himself came over to assign the group
with several new missions. Bed-rest
seemed pointless and thoroughly
constricting at a time like this, and
Draco was more than ready to voice his
complaints.
But if Andromeda and the rest of the
group were more than adamant about
him staying at home, Hermione was far
more understanding. "You didn't stop me
from being a part of 17-65. And back
then, the only offensive spell I knew was
the knockback jinx," she added calmly
one morning, when she and Draco were
in the inventory sorting through phials.
"So now, I'm not going to stop you from
fighting if you think you're up for it."
Draco felt a rush of relief that she at
least understood, but a more rational
part of him knew that it was risky to join
the next few missions. As it was, he
could barely last a few hours without his
chest aching. He was a liability. And
Draco had been on enough missions to
know that liabilities were better off not
being on the battlefield at all.
So instead of agreeing with her, he
simply reached for a new box of phials
and lined five new ones on the floor.
With his wand and an intense
concentration that made him momentarily
forget about everything else, he cast a
complicated Protean charm on the first
phial, before handing it to Hermione.
"Mark that with Potter's initials," he
muttered, when she looked at him
questioningly. "The other five are going
to need these if they want to be a part of
17-65."
A huge smile spread across her face,
wide and happy enough to make him feel
like he'd done the whole damn world a
favour. Tucking a piece of flyaway hair
behind her ear, she quickly grabbed her
wand to make a tiny indentation on the
phial.
And that was that. The next day, Draco
called for a meeting and surprised
everyone else when he set the five phials
down on the coffee table, along with a
scribbled incantation on a piece of
paper.
Luna, who had been with the Slytherins
for a long time, was thoroughly pleased
to finally have a phial of her own. She
quickly took hers, staring at it with
abject fascination. "This'll go lovely on
my Butterbeer cork necklace," she told
Hermione, with a satisfied smile.
"What're the phials for?" Neville asked,
the confused expression on his face
mirroring Harry's, Ginny's and Ron's
perfectly.
Draco remained standing, bracing his
hands on the back of the armchair that
Luna and Hermione were sharing.
"Protean charm," he explained blandly.
"This is how we stay in contact with
each other on missions. Whenever you
need help, or need to pass on a message,
you light your phial and the rest of us
will see it."
"Oh, Hermione used to make coins for us
with the same charm," Ron mused, much
to her surprise. She looked at her old
friends, who all nodded in affirmation.
"Except this is more complicated,"
Pansy interjected. "Because this charm
can relay messages as well. Short ones,
though."
Ginny, who had been studying the
incantation on the piece of paper in
silence for awhile now, looked up
suddenly. "So - are you finally going to
tell us what it is that 17-65 does, now
that we're a part of it?"
Draco hesitated. His gaze locked on the
three Slytherins sitting opposite. Pansy
and Blaise were nodding at him in
encouragement, while Theo made a face,
but after a pointed nudge from Pansy,
reluctantly gave a nod as well. Draco
finally turned to Hermione, who simply
shrugged. It's all up to you, was the
answer in her eyes, and she smiled.
So, over the next fifteen minutes, Draco
explained to the other five about 17-65.
How it began with just the four
Slytherins, how Legilimency and
Obliviate had been their modus operandi
for three years; how many people they
had killed, directly or indirectly, during
the war. How there was an entire
inventory filled with phials of memories
belonging to people they had met at
some point or other during this war.
How it started with keeping the Dark
Lord's army to a sizable amount and
preventing him from knowing about the
Order. How it evolved from there when
Hermione came into the picture,
becoming a search for the Peverells
instead. How it became what it was
now; a group within the Order that went
on one mission after another, surviving
one and diving right into the next, ten
different people that had finally found a
common purpose - to end what seemed
like an endless war.
It took Draco awhile, but when he was
finally done, the other five seemed
thoroughly enthralled by the revelation.
They immediately launched into a tirade
of questions that the other three
Slytherins were more than happy to
answer. It was clear that Hermione was
delighted to see how enthusiastic her old
friends were, and when she turned
around briefly to smile at Draco, he
thought that maybe things weren't so bad
after all.
There were different ways to fight a war,
and he was certain that he'd picked the
best one.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Draco, are you awake?"

Hermione's voice was a whisper in the
night, but he heard her anyway and
opened his eyes, locking his gaze on
hers. "Unfortunately," he mumbled,
curling his lips in a brief smirk when she
rolled her eyes. "What is it?"
She faltered, a look of hesitation
slipping onto her face. "There's
something that I've been wondering for
awhile now. Why're you so adamant that
Harry's the Chosen One?"
He didn't answer for a moment. But then
he yawned, flipping onto his back so that
he was staring up at the ceiling.
"Longbottom's a git, there's no way he
could be the Chosen One."
"Harry lost the first time. I have full faith
in him and I believe that he can win if he
tried again, but you're not the kind of
person who would place your bets on
the underdog. Draco," Hermione shifted
now, leaning up on her elbow to stare at
him intently. "What are you not telling
me?"
The silence stretched long and empty
between them. After what seemed like
forever, he turned to face her, eyes
opaque and mysterious in the dark, and
slipped his hand up to brush delicately
against her cheek. "Hermione," he
breathed, her name a delicious drawl on
the tip of his tongue, and he pressed his
forehead to hers. "Listen."
He told her something that night, in
hushed whispers and muffled words. She
listened in silence, breath caught in her
throat and lungs tight. She listened to him
until he was done and she watched him
until he fell back asleep, her mind was
still spinning with the heady realisation
that she now knew something no one
else, no one else in this world, did.
"Draco?" She asked, at last, after a
prolonged period of complete silence.
"Are you awake?"
Silence greeted her. He wasn't. But even
in his sleep, he was restless, and every
now and then, his fingers would twitch
or his eyebrows would knit in a
troubling frown.
"I love you," she whispered, smoothing
the frown away with her fingertips,
before sliding her fingers through his.
"Because, in spite of, and even with this
revelation, still."
44 | legilimens

44
l e gi l i me ns

Allows the caster entry into victim's

mind.

Blaise was the one to lead 17-65 on the

next few missions. Shacklebolt had
given them some manageable ones this
time - siphoning information from
people, patrolling other bases, recruiting
people to fight on the Order's side,
protecting Neville when he gave more
public speeches.
Draco wasn't surprised when Hermione
insisted on joining because she'd always
been stubborn as hell and there was no
changing her mind once she'd made her
decision. So all he could do was to wait.
Hear the cracks of disapparition as the
rest of 17-65 left on their mission. Watch
as his phials lit with arbitrary messages.
Play with Teddy as the others risked
their lives outside.
And Draco soon realised that there was
something absolutely terrifying about
waiting. There was none of what he felt
out on the battlefield - the adrenaline
rushing through his veins, the twisting
and turning as he closely evaded Dark
spells, the mantra kill or be killed
looping itself over and over in his mind.
Instead, there was just silence, time
ticking as each second dragged to a slow
crawl, and the war seemed infinite.
When it came to waiting, there was
nothing else necessary but hope. And
Draco, being the ever-realistic cynic of
a Slytherin that he was, had never
depended on hope to win the battles for
him, but he now found himself needing it
more than ever, especially on those
nights when Hermione didn't return.
The sleeping draughts that Andromeda
forced him to take made him unable to
stay awake for long, of course. So there
were nights when Hermione returned,
her hair still damp after a quick but
thorough bath, only to find Draco fast
asleep, a perennial frown glossing his
forehead every so often. She'd smooth
the lines away and curl up right next to
him, pressing her lips to his chest gently
when his arms instinctively wrapped
around her.
Other nights, the pain from his
Sectumsempra wound became almost
unbearable and she'd find him tossing
and turning, writhing in both the physical
agony of his injury and the nightmare that
seemed recurring. She knew they were
repeated ones because, in between the
murmurs of her name - he always called
her by her first name in his sleep - there
were two other things he said -
The first was: "I have to kill you. Or he's
going to kill me."
And the second: "You deserve to die. I
regret nothing."
She woke him up on one of the nights
when his nightmares seemed worse than
ever. The moment she touched his cheek,
his eyes flew open and he bolted upright.
He had already summoned his wand to
him without her even realising, pressing
the tip of it against her throat with lethal
purpose. His eyes were cold, the look on
his face almost feral and he seemed to
be acting based on pure killer instincts
alone.
Unafraid, Hermione simply smoothed the
pads of her thumbs across his face.
"Draco?"
He blinked, twice. And then the storm in
his eyes seemed to diffuse rapidly as
they fixed on her face. "Hermione?"
"It was just a nightmare," she said
calmly, "you're safe now."
Draco's face twisted into a horrified
expression when he finally registered the
wand against her throat. He quickly
wrenched away from her, the wand
falling to the ground with a clatter.
"Fuck," he swallowed roughly, looking
at her with searching eyes. "Did I hurt
you?"
She shook her head, but he kept firmly
out of reach when she stretched out a
hand to him.
"It's those numbing potions," he
muttered, running a frantic, shaky hand
through his tousled blond hair. It was the
second time she'd seen him unravelled -
the first being the time she had suffered
that internal injury so long ago. "When
they wear off, the pain comes back in
full force and it must've been some sort
of trigger. Shit - "
"Draco - "
"I'm so fucking sorry, Hermione," he
reached out for her, then faltered,
snatching his hand back again. "You
shouldn't - you should sleep somewhere
else in case I - "
"Draco." She firmly closed the distance
between them, wrapping her arms tightly
around his neck, careful not to brush
against his chest lest she aggravate his
wounds even further. He instinctively
leaned towards her, even though his
hands were limp beside him. "This is
ridiculous. When I have my nightmares
and wake up screaming and pummelling
you to death, do I get you to sleep
somewhere else?"
"Hermione, your hits couldn't hurt me,
but I could kill - "
"You wouldn't." She said confidently,
pulling back and tilting his head so that
she was looking right into his eyes.
"Despite what you may think of yourself,
Draco I-don't-know-your-middle-name
Malfoy, you're not a monster, and I won't
have you thinking otherwise."
She pressed her lips to his before he
could argue. His lips were chapped and
hers had a brief cut from a hex she'd
accidentally taken on an earlier mission,
but she couldn't care less. She kept the
kiss gentle, felt him still beneath her in
surprise for a brief moment, before he
dragged in a painful breath and slid his
palms up to her hips, his fingers sliding
onto the bare skin where her top rode up.
"Seriously," she mumbled against his
lips, still keeping her eyes shut and
stifling a whimper when his fingers
traced languid circles on her skin,
trailing a scorching heat in their wake.
"What's your middle name? I just
realised that I have no idea what yours
is."
But perhaps it was the wrong question to
ask, because his fingers abruptly stilled.
He pulled himself away with visible
effort, and glanced away. "Lucius," he
mumbled, after a moment's pause.
"That's my middle name."
"Like your father's name?"
"Unfortunately."
She stared at him for a moment. "Your
nightmares have something to do with
him, don't they?" She asked perceptively.
His eyes flickered back to hers in
surprise and she shrugged. "You've
never told me about him. Plus this," she
reached for the string of phials around
her neck, holding one of them up to him,
"you gave this one to me because you
said that this holds memories belonging
to your father, and that it's the only one
you haven't viewed yet."
He stared at the phial for a long moment.
Then, with a resigned sigh, he lay back
down on the bed, closing his eyes
briefly. Hermione didn't hesitate to curl
up next to him, reaching for her wand
and casting a quick soothing spell on his
chest before putting it back on the
bedside table. They were a hairsbreadth
away from each other when he opened
his eyes, and he reached across to drape
an arm around her waist almost
absentmindedly.
"I have two recurrent nightmares among
many others," Draco said quietly. "You
know how - when I first started out as a
Death-Eater, I was tasked to kill
Dumbledore?"
Hermione nodded. She remembered
Narcissa's memories clearly, when she
had made an Unbreakable Vow with
Severus Snape, remembered Draco's
explanation that had followed several
days later.
"That's the first. I don't think I'll ever
forget that night when I disarmed him.
He offered me, actually offered me help,
but I was too bloody terrified to take it.
And so it repeats in my dreams, I can
practically hear Bellatrix's fucking
laughter and Dolohov, Greyback and the
others standing behind me, encouraging
me to hurl my first killing curse. And I
can hear his voice - Dumbledore's voice
- in my head, telling me that I'm not a
murderer."
Hermione looked at him curiously. "You
hadn't killed anyone before that?"
"No. To be honest, I don't even
remember who my first kill was. The
Dark Lord had me tortured so much after
the war until I couldn't think, and when
he ordered me to kill some prisoner, I
just did it in a heartbeat."
"Kill or be killed, right?"
"When you're a Death-Eater - that's the
only fucking way. And," Draco paused,
swallowing roughly before continuing,
keeping his eyes averted from hers.
"That's exactly what my bastard of a
father did to my mother."
Hermione felt a jolt of shock, but her
mind was rapidly whirring, trying to
make sense of the puzzle pieces that
were finally falling into place. "Why?"
"To save his own fucking skin," Draco's
voice was a hard kind of impassive that
made her shiver. He said it so matter-of-
factly that, for a moment, he sounded like
a complete stranger to her. "Several days
after the Dark Lord won, the Death-
Eaters found my mother hiding out in one
of the rooms at Malfoy Manor. Her elves
had sealed the bloody place up so tightly
that no one could get through. Lucius
was the one that tracked her down,
helped Bellatrix break through the
wards, and he was also the one who shot
an Avada right through her heart the
second he found her. Right in front of me
and everyone else."
Hermione felt tears sting the back of her
eyelids as she thought about Narcissa,
and how much she had loved her
husband. And for Draco to have to
witness everything spiral out of control
right in front of him seemed equally as
heart-breaking.
"That's your nightmare?" She whispered
now, wondering how he could bear even
going to sleep with such a frightening
memory in his head.
Draco faltered, his arm instinctively
tightening around her waist. "No,"
Draco's voice was quiet now, so low it
was almost inaudible. "My nightmare is
something that happened months after.
The Dark Lord sent a couple of us to
fight an uprising that had started with
some members of the Rebellion. At that
point, I hated Lucius more than anything
in the world. So when I saw him
outnumbered by five other Rebellion
members, I just stayed where I was. And
watched him die."
Hermione felt her breath lodge in her
throat. "What?"
He flinched now, a quick, almost fleeting
movement but she caught it anyway. And
then his face was impassive again as he
pulled his arm away from her. "Lucius
deserved to die," Draco's jaw was
clenched, his eyes blank as he stared up
at the ceiling. "I regret nothing."
His words were exactly what he'd
mumbled in his nightmare moments ago.
Hermione kept silent and tried to gather
her thoughts. She wondered if in the
past, before her time in captivity, she
might've felt some sort of deep-seated
judgement or loathing towards what
Draco had done.
But now? Now she didn't see black or
white, right or wrong. All she saw were
the monsters in his head that Andromeda
had once told her about and she
wondered if there was perhaps a way
for Draco to face them all. Or did he
have to live in the shadows, haunted by
the monsters of the past for the rest of his
life?
The monster in this nightmare, the
second nightmare, was not Lucius.
Hermione's fingers unconsciously drifted
to the phials hanging on her neck as she
wondered if it was something else
altogether. She could still remember
Narcissa's voice from the memories
she'd seen, clear as crystal -
We will never be safe and we can never
run from him. I made my choice. Find
Draco and keep him safe. Find Draco
and protect him. Keep him safe, Lucius.
No matter what the cost.
No matter what the cost.
Suddenly, the last puzzle piece fell into
place, and she knew.
"Merlin," she breathed quietly, turning to
look at Draco, only to realise that his
gaze had already travelled to where she
was gripping the phials tightly between
her fingers. "Draco - "
His eyes flew up to hers, the greys in his
irises almost desperate and volatile.
"Don't," he choked out, a strangled sob
that had never escaped him before.
"Hermione, I know what you're going to
say. I know you've figured it out on your
own. But don't say it."
"I won't," she swore, reaching up to
brush her lips against his in a promise.
Using her wand, she magically unhooked
Draco's phial from the silver-coloured
chain around her neck and pressed it into
his hands. "But I believe the decision
lies in your hands now."
His eyes fell shut, his jaw clenched tight
in some sort of unspeakable pain, and
she brushed her thumbs gently against his
cheeks as she watched him fall asleep,
his chest rising and falling with slow,
steady, heartbroken breaths.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Fighting a war without Draco felt almost

directionless. Hermione had quickly
realised this when 17-65 joined the
Order on its next mission. The Order
functioned differently from 17-65, there
was nothing surreptitious or stealth
about it; it was just charging into the
foray, diving straight into the thick of
things, direct confrontations and wands
held at point blank.
"Bloody dumb move," Theo had mused,
when Shacklebolt was giving out the
orders. Hermione couldn't agree more -
not that there was anything wrong with
straightforward confrontations, but she
thought that a little more strategic
thinking might help at times.
That afternoon's mission had been a
particularly gruelling one - the Order
had seized back another one of its bases,
but not without a few casualties along
the way. Hermione had felt her stomach
churn at the sight of the few dead bodies,
and was suddenly glad for her memory
lapse. Forgetting people had dulled her
emotional attachments to them. And in a
war like this, it actually worked in her
favour.
After handing several healing potions to
Professor Trelawney and Madam
Pomfrey, Hermione headed back to her
group. Blaise had deliberately ignored
Shacklebolt's command to group together
earlier during the siege, and had directed
17-65 to stay along the sidelines, using
Disillusionment charms to hide
themselves. It had actually worked out
pretty well - apart from a few minor
injuries here and there, none of them
were in a bad shape.
Hermione went over to Ron, who was
seated some a good distance away from
the group, cradling his arm possessively
to his chest. Harry was with him, trying
to get Ron to show him his arm, but the
redhead was refusing profusely. She sat
on the opposite side of Ron and nudged
him. "Arm, please."
"It actually doesn't hurt that much - "
"He's terrified of healing charms," Harry
explained, and rolled his eyes. "Says
they hurt more than the injury itself."
"I'm not terrified. I just don't have an
injury - "
"Sure you don't." Hermione said calmly
and turned her wand on Ron. "Petrificus
Totalus."
Harry snickered as Ron went completely
rigid. "He's going to yell at you once you
remove the spell on him."
"Ferula." Hermione quickly performed
the necessary spell, before looking up at
Ron. His eyes were flashing in
annoyance and she grinned wickedly.
"Maybe we shouldn't remove the spell."
"I agree." Harry hummed in approval
and stood up, dusting the grime off his
hands and motioning Hermione over.
"Hey, is that Hagrid calling us over
there?"
Hermione caught his surreptitious wink
and smiled innocently, sidling up to him
as he draped his arm comfortably around
her shoulders. "Why, yes, it is. We have
to go now. Bye, Ron!"
"Catch you later, mate! In a few hours!"
Stifling their laughter - which probably
wasn't very appropriate behaviour
considering the time and place - Harry
and Hermione made their way off,
sneaking glances over their shoulders
every so often and trying to keep a
straight face as they saw Ron's still
figure.
Moments later, there came an angry yell
and they froze. Thanks to a kind-hearted
Luna, Ron was finally released from his
body-binding curse and he was now
charging towards them, his face red in
pent-up annoyance. He caught up with
them quickly, and as she watched Ron
aim a playful punch to Harry's gut and
Harry twist and turn to avoid him, she
felt her lips twist up in a wide smile,
feeling the two biggest missing pieces
within her finally falling into place.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Draco found himself standing in front of
the Pensieve the next afternoon. His
arms were braced on the rim and he just
inhaling, exhaling, his usually alert mind
blank and devoid of all thoughts. He
didn't even hear the footsteps that echoed
through the hallway or the door being
pushed open slowly.
"Draco?" Andromeda's voice abruptly
jolted him out of his reverie. "Is
everything alright?"
Draco turned around, leaning back
against the Pensieve as he looked at her.
He suddenly noticed the weary lines
around her eyes, the fading black strands
in her hair. When she wasn't smiling,
Andromeda Tonks looked exactly who
she was - a widow who had lost most of
her family during the war.
Andromeda's gaze fell to the phial in
Draco's hand. "Decided to face your
monsters?"
"More like let them engulf me whole,"
he mumbled, running a tired hand
through his hair. "I told Hermione all of
it yesterday."
A light of understanding that quickly
dawned on Andromeda. "Everything?"
"Everything I know. She - guessed the
rest." Draco studied the phial in his
hand, scraping his fingernail against the
smooth surface. "Dromeda - " he looked
up at his Aunt. "When you came to visit
me three years ago after learning that
Lucius had died - and I told you
everything, did you ever think less of
me? Less than what you already thought
of me?"
Andromeda seemed truly startled by his
question, and she stepped closer to him.
"Draco," she shook her head and smiled,
"I never once thought less of you. If I
did, I never would've asked you to find
Hermione in the first place. Do you
remember what you said when I first
asked you to look for her?"
"I said yes."
"You said yes - immediately. You also
said that you'd do it, if it meant
redeeming yourself in some way or
other. Draco, I'm not the one who thinks
little of you, nor does Hermione, or
anyone else. In case you didn't notice,
your three friends from Slytherin would
do absolutely anything for you. And I'm
certain that Harry and the others think
really highly of you."
"Unlikely," Draco scoffed, but he fell
silent after that.
Andromeda smiled at the thoughtful
countenance on his face. "It's all in your
head, Draco. If you can't fight your fears,
you live with them." She gave him an
encouraging pat on the shoulder and
turned to leave the room.
The door shut with a soft click behind
her. And then Draco was alone, Lucius's
phial digging into his palm as he fought
to calm himself. Finding an infinitesimal
ounce of courage somewhere within
himself, he reached for his wand,
tapping the phial three times.
"Aparecium."
A faint but neat scrawl slowly revealed
itself around the phial, a complex
incantation that Draco had long ago
learnt by heart, because he'd tried to
open the phial dozens of times before,
only to back out at the very last second.
This time, he recited all of it, every
single word, right to the very end, where
the incantation ended in the familiar
code that Lucius had come up with.
"One-seven-six-five," he mumbled,
tapping his wand once more to the phial,
and the catch on the lid unlocked with a
tiny click.
Emptying the memories into the
Pensieve, he took a deep breath and
went in.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Unlike Narcissa's, the memories Lucius

had sifted out for viewing were sparse,
clearly bereft of all sentimental value.
There were only three. The first spun
Draco into a familiar room, where he
was blocked by a crowd of people in
familiar masks. Knowing that he was but
a mere intangible figure in a memory,
Draco pushed his way through, trying to
get to the front of the crowd.
"Avada Kedavra."
The voice was calm. Then there was a
flash of green light and a delighted
cackle.
He knew what it was before he even
saw it - his mother, lying dead at the feet
of Bellatrix, and his father, holding up a
wand poised in mid-air, and his younger
self, staring in abject horror at the scene
that had just transpired. Seeing it a
second time still felt like someone had
launched ten Crucios right at him all at
once.
"My lord," Lucius's voice was calm as
he turned to face the Dark Lord, who
was watching in evident satisfaction,
pleased that the traitor had died at the
hands of her own husband. "As you can
see, my son and I had nothing to do with
Narcissa. She was a disgrace, to both
the family name and to you, my lord."
"I see," the Dark Lord still didn't look
convinced, and his eyes landed on
Narcissa's motionless form. "Dispose of
the body, Bellatrix. No traitor deserves a
proper burial."
Draco watched as his younger self took
a desperate step forward, but Lucius had
hit young Draco with a wordless body-
binding curse that made him freeze in
place.
"As for you two," the Dark Lord now
turned to Lucius and young Draco, "I
will cease your punishment for now. But
there is still farther to go if you want to
prove your loyalty to me."
"Yes, my lord," Lucius bowed.
The Dark Lord swept out then, followed
by the rest of his Death-Eaters. The
moment the doors were shut, Lucius cast
Silencing charms on the room and turned
to young Draco. "We must never speak
of her again," Lucius said coldly, "your
mother was a traitor and a disgrace and
she was better off dead." He then
dropped the Body-Binding curse on
young Draco before heading out of the
room.
Draco had lived this memory before. But
this memory was now from a different
perspective, and he didn't waste time
hearing young Draco break down,
screaming himself hoarse in the silenced
room. Instead, Draco followed Lucius
closely, watching as the older man
strode quickly down the hallway.
Lucius paused as he passed a portrait of
the three of them - Draco in the portrait
had a cold, indifferent look on his face
that rivalled Lucius's, while Narcissa
was smiling down fondly at them. And
as Lucius looked at the picture, he
allowed his cold features to slip for a
moment.
"Forgive me," he murmured, pointing his
wand at the portrait. "Evanesco."
The portrait vanished into non-existence,
and Lucius walked away. Then Draco
found himself sucked into a vortex of
another memory. The hallway of the
Malfoy Manor was dark and isolated
now as a figure headed down the
hallway, lit by a single dim glow.
"Narcissa?" Lucius's face was
illuminated by the light. "Narcissa,
where are you?"
"Here." Draco knew at once that this
was a memory prior to his mother's
death. Narcissa ran up to him, her face
ashen in the dim light. "Where's Draco?"
"Safe. But not for long. The Dark Lord's
coming, and we have to leave now."
"No. My time is up." Narcissa said
calmly. "Give me your hand. Just like
you promised."
"Narcissa - "
"Please, Lucius, there's really no time."
She snapped her fingers and a house-elf
materialised next to her. She looked
down at the creature. "You know what to
do."
The elf solemnly brought out a wand,
placing it over Lucius's and Narcissa's
bonded hands.
"Will you, Lucius," she began, a certain
deathly sort of calmness to her voice,
"watch over Draco to the best of your
ability, and protect him from death at the
hands of the Dark Lord?"
"I will."
"And should the Dark Lord ever doubt
Draco's allegiance, will you kill me
when the time comes, in order to protect
our son?"
Lucius visibly flinched. "Narcissa - "
"Will you?"
"I will."
Narcissa smiled, and turned to the elf.
"Seal this Vow."
The elf tapped the wand once as a
brilliant red flame slid out from the
wand, winding itself around their joined
hands. Narcissa waved the elf away and
it vanished without another word.
Turning to Lucius, she reached forward
and hugged him. "Remember your
promise," she whispered. "Ward this
house. If all else fails, then you'll bring
the Dark Lord here and finish what you
swore to do." She pulled back to place
something in his hands. A phial. "Give
this to Draco and tell him that I love him.
I love you too. Both of you."
Lucius's reply was a muffled blur as the
memory evaporated into the darkness,
and then Draco found himself pulled into
the next one. It was a wearier Lucius this
time, sitting in his study in the Manor. He
was writing at his desk, and Draco had
seen enough memories to know what he
had to do. Crossing the room, he leaned
over the desk, peering at the letter that
Lucius was composing.

To: Andromeda Tonks

By the time you receive this, my wife
and I would no longer be alive. It is with
great reluctance that I entrust the safety
of my son, Draco Lucius Malfoy, to you.
But my wife, prior to her death, seemed
to have much faith in you and I will
extend the same trust, much as it may
appear to be misplaced.
Enclosed in this envelope is a will citing
you as Draco's sole guardian, as well as
trustee of the Malfoy fortune until Draco
turns twenty-one, following which he
will inherit all of the funds. You will
also find a sizeable amount set aside for
you and your grandson - my condolences
for your losses - that I hope will be
sufficient to tide you through this war...

Lucius stopped writing when an elf

apparated into the room, and he glanced
up. "How is he?"
"Young Mister Malfoy still lives in the
apartment, sir," the elf replied, "with
three of his friends. He is safe. He has
put up some protective charms."
"That's not good enough." Lucius
frowned and stood up. "Ward up the
apartment, elf. Let no other Death-Eater
find it, including and especially the Dark
Lord."
"Yes, sir."
The elf disapparated quickly. Lucius
paused, folding up the letter and sliding
it into the drawer beneath the desk. He
strode out, letting the doors slam shut
behind him, the lights in the room fading
to black.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione found Draco sitting on the

front porch when she returned, with
Teddy in his lap and Andromeda beside
him. Leaving the others inside to discuss
the success of the mission, she stepped
outside. The door creaked when she
opened it, and she smiled hesitantly as
the three of them outside quickly turned
to look at her.
"'Mione," Teddy said happily, his hair
turning the same shade of brown that
hers was.
Hermione swiftly went forward,
scooping Teddy up in her arms. "Hello,
Teddy!" She peppered several kisses
across his cheeks, which made him laugh
uproariously.
Smiling, Andromeda got up and took
Teddy from her, only so she could hug
Hermione herself. "I see the mission
went well," Andromeda said pleasantly,
before giving Hermione a meaningful
look, darting a glance in Draco's
direction surreptitiously.
Hermione nodded. So when Andromeda
left, taking Teddy with her, she slowly
stepped towards Draco, settling down
on the step next to him. He seemed far
more relaxed than he had been the day
before, but his gaze was still distant and
troubled.
"You guessed right," he said, before she
could even think of something suitable to
say. His voice was once again the same
shade of emotionless, the kind that made
her want to reach out and hold him, only
to be afraid of doing it at the same time.
So Hermione kept her distance for him,
simply waiting for him to continue
speaking.
"My father's didn't kill her because he
wanted to save himself," Draco said
quietly. "He did it for me. She made him
take an Unbreakable Vow. If he didn't
fulfil it, he was going to die anyway.
And it wasn't just that." Draco sounded
more vehement now, bracing his arms on
his knees as he kept his eyes averted
from Hermione's. "He actually had an elf
put charms on our apartment - and kept it
out of the Dark Lord's eye for years. And
my father - "
"Draco - "
" - my stupid, bigoted, prick of a father
actually wrote to ask her to look after me
when he was gone. I should've known -
should've known the day 'Dromeda came
and asked if I needed help - "
"Draco - "
" - or the day when the Death-Eaters
were trying to get a hold of the Malfoy
inheritance, only to find that all the
money was missing because it was with
Andromeda all this time. And he even
gave money to her and Teddy - "
"Draco!" Hermione reached forward,
firmly gripping his face between her
hands so that he was now looking at her.
"Breathe. Just breathe."
He dragged in a deep, weary breath, as
though it took him an immense effort to
do so, and locked his gaze on hers. "I
don't fucking know what to do,
Hermione," he whispered, shutting his
eyes briefly when she absentmindedly
brushed her thumb across a faded scar
on his face. "He killed my mother. I
should hate him - "
"But you don't," Hermione said
resolutely, when he trailed off. "In case
you didn't realise, you referred to him as
my father, when just last night, you were
calling him Lucius - "
He shook his head. "Doesn't mean
anything, Hermione."
"You're calling me Hermione," she
pointed out, with a smile. "When you're
teasing me, you always call me Granger.
The same goes for Theo - it's Theo when
you're being nice and Nott when you're
mocking him."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "How did
you - "
"And I also know that you call Blaise
and Pansy by their surnames, because
they're not as close to you as Theo is.
Same goes with Harry and the rest of 17-
65. It's your defence mechanism. You're
afraid to let others in, so you call them
by their surnames because it helps you
detach yourselves from them,
emotionally. In case they hurt you. Or -
and I think this is the real reason - in
case you lose them."
Draco was so stunned that he simply
stared at her in silence.
And she cracked a grin. "You know,
that's the kind of face you used to have
when I came in first and you came in
second during our Hogwarts days."
His lips twitched, but he tried to look as
annoyed as he could. Frankly, he didn't
think he succeeded very well at all. "For
fuck's sake, Granger, do you really want
to start with this because we could go on
forever arguing about which one of us is
smarter than the other - "
Her eyes softened as she gazed up at
him. "No. What I really want to say is - I
know you can't forgive your father for
killing your mother. And you can't
forgive yourself for letting him die. But
we all make mistakes, and we just have
to live with the ones we make."
Draco glanced away. "I don't know how
you can bear to sit next to me and not
feel disgusted by what I've done."
"In spite of, remember?" She reminded
him, a smile playing on her lips. "In a
war like this, there are good people who
do bad things for the right reasons. Your
father was one of them. And so are you."
His eyes darkened to a shade of emotion
that she seldom saw from him, and he
leaned in close. He was just a
hairsbreadth away from her when the
door opened and the sound of footsteps
interrupted them.
"Um, mate," Blaise folded his arms
across his chest, looking torn between
amusement and embarrassment as he
stared at them, "there's something you
have to see - "
Draco waved a dismissive hand at him.
"Obscuro."
"That's mature," Blaise grumbled when a
blindfold materialised out of nowhere
and wrapped itself around his eyes, but
he waited patiently all the same.
Draco turned back to Hermione, swiftly
closing the gap between them to press a
gentle kiss to her lips. It was over just as
soon as it began, but it still sent a thrill
down her spine and a delicious ache in
her stomach all the same. "Thank you,"
he murmured, before reluctantly pulling
away and removing the charm from
Blaise.
It was easy for Hermione to deduce that
Blaise had something important to say, if
the grave look on his face was any
indication. This time, he seemed intent
on talking to Draco alone. So after
excusing herself, she headed back into
the house, leaving the other two outside.
Draco raised an eyebrow at Blaise, who
simply handed him a crumpled piece of
paper.

White Wyvern, Tuesday, 7.00

Draco's head immediately snapped up.
"The Peverells?"
Blaise nodded tightly. "We were helping
the Order recover a base, and I bumped
into Pritchard on the way. He gave me
this."
"Could be a set-up."
"He allowed me to use Legilimency on
him. Not a set-up."
Draco paused. There was a sudden
adrenaline rushing through his veins, a
feeling that had been dormant for awhile
now. It was - unlike those he had while
on missions with Potter and Company.
This was different. This was the same
pounding in his heart, the same dryness
of his throat, the same stiffness of his
spine that he had felt during all those
years he'd worked as a Death-Eater.
"I'm thinking that this could be a good
opportunity," Blaise continued, "you
know - thin out the Dark Lord's army. We
know that MacNair, Yaxley and the
Carrows will be there. If we take them
out, we'd have less to deal with in the
future."
Draco nodded. "Worth a shot. But keep
this between us."
"I don't think the two of us can stun that
many Death-Eaters - "
"It's not going to be two. It's just going to
be me," Draco cut him off emotionlessly.
Blaise stared at his friend for a moment.
"This is a revenge mission for you, isn't
it?" When Draco didn't reply, he slowly
grinned. "Well, count me in. Pansy and
Theo would probably want to come
along too. But let's leave Potter and
Company out of it; I highly doubt that
revenge is their style. Let's keep it
between the four of us."
"Just like old times," Draco agreed, and
held the paper between his fingertips,
watching the edges flutter in the wind,
delicate and destructible. "Incendio."
45 | diffindo

44
di ffi ndo

Rip to shreds.

The four Slytherins were down in

Knockturn Alley at seven on the dot the
next morning. The streets were deserted,
but Draco was keeping his eyes and ears
alert for any activity nearby while the
other three cast numbing and anti-
disarming spells on themselves. They
were donned in Death-Eater robes and
masks, two things they hadn't worn in a
long time. It provided an excellent
cover, because only Death-Eaters could
walk around at this time of day without
anyone asking questions.
Theo looked pleased as he fiddled with
his Death-Eater mask, a satisfied grin on
his face. "You know," he mused, "we
should really parade round in these
masks sometime."
Pansy's eyes were gleaming as she
thought about it. "We should definitely
do that. We'll probably get a scream out
of Longbottom and even Potter."
"If we're lucky – even the Weasel too."
Blaise hastily hushed them as Draco
turned to leave first. There wasn't much
time to lose, and Draco expecting his
Mark to start bleeding any moment now.
He had to get to the Peverells before the
rest of the Death-Eaters showed up.
Keeping his head down, he strode
quickly past the closed shops and soon
arrived at the White Wyvern.
The doors were locked with basic
magical charms, as he'd expected, but he
simply undid them and left the door
open. He paused, waiting for the other
three to step in before shutting the door
behind them. Ignoring the rooms on the
first floor, Draco climbed the stairs and
walked straight to the last room down
the corridor. It was the only room that
was lit, a faint glow of light streaking
through from beneath the ratty door.
This time, the door was locked from the
inside. Behind him, Blaise, Theo and
Pansy were completely silent, and he
waved them back behind a pillar so that
they were out of sight. He aimed his
wand at the door and took a deep breath.
"Reducto."
The door splintered to a million
fragmented pieces, and the people inside
immediately scrambled to their feet.
Draco stepped in calmly, his eyes roving
quickly across the group, finally putting
names to the ever-elusive Peverells that
had held Hermione Granger captive for
three whole years.
He'd already known that Alecto and
Amycus Carrow were a part of the
Peverells, and so were Yaxley and
Walden MacNair.
But he felt a sudden shiver race down
his spine when he saw Antonin Dolohov
– who was, in his own way, equally as
ruthless as Bellatrix. And, last but not
least – Rabastan Lestrange; and, by
extension, a distant relative of Draco's.
Ignoring the cold chill clamping in his
throat, Draco was the first to break the
startled silence, taking a determined step
into the room. "It's been a fucking
while," he drawled, his lips curling up
in his signature smirk, "I've missed you
all."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A sinking feeling of dread rushed

through Hermione when she woke up
that morning and saw that Draco's side
of the bed was empty. As far as she
knew, Draco was never up this early,
and thanks to his injury and frequent
bouts of nightmares, he usually slept in
later than usual.
Dragging herself out of bed, she rushed
down the stairs with a wand in hand.
"Andromeda!" She burst into the
kitchen,startling the older witch who had
just started making breakfast.
"'Dromeda, have you seen Draco?"
Andromeda's eyebrows shot up. "No, not
at all. I thought he was still sleeping."
"No, he isn't!"
Without waiting for Andromeda's reply,
Hermione rushed back upstairs, only to
pause on the second floor when she saw
one of the doors left ajar. Theo's room.
Theo's door was never left open when
he was sleeping. She strode towards his
room, placing a palm flat against the
door to push it wide open, her jaw
dropping when she realised that Theo's
bed was empty.
And completely unmade. But not the
point.
Hermione had lived with Slytherins for
long enough to know when something
was up. Theo, being the loudmouth that
he was, never went anywhere without
telling the whole world where he was
going. And Draco always told her where
he went – even if it was merely to the
Black Market to restock, or to the
backyard with Teddy. Draco knew that
she had always harbored a fear of him
not returning, and he'd always made it a
point to let her know.
But not this time.
Acting on her impulses, she went over to
Blaise's and Pansy's shared room,
rapping sharply twice. When no one
responded, she grabbed the doorknob
tightly, twisting it and stepping in.
Empty.
"Luna!" Hermione's voice was frantic
now, and she was in front of the last
closed door before she knew it. "Luna?"
Moments later, the blonde witch had
opened the door, a sleepy smile on her
face. "Hello, Hermione."
"Something's happened," Hermione said
quickly, trying to keep her cool. "Get
dressed, get your wand, and get the
others."
"What's wrong?"
"Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo are
gone."
Luna's eyes widened, and she quickly
dashed into the bathroom. Hermione ran
up the stairs and did the same. It didn't
take her long to freshen up and pull on a
clean set of clothes, brushing her teeth
while simultaneously using her wand to
bunch her stubborn hair up into a tight
ponytail.
Heading back into the bedroom,
Hermione quickly summoned her
satchel, slinging it over her shoulder
before going over to the study desk. She
located the parchment – Draco had a
knack of being fastidiously neat, which
kind of made sense given his strict
upbringing – and she held the paper
carefully as she headed downstairs.
Andromeda glanced up worriedly when
she stepped into the kitchen. "What
happened?"
"Draco's gone," Hermione bit back the
choked sob that threatened to rise in her
throat and focused instead on the task at
hand. "Theo, Blaise and Pansy aren't in
their rooms as well."
Andromeda's frown deepened. She
watched as Hermione laid the parchment
down on the dining table, smoothing the
ends out gently with her fingertips.
"What's that?"
"It's – a work in progress. Blaise and
Draco have been working on it for a
while now. It's like the Marauder's Map,
charmed with the Homonculous spell,
only it plots a far bigger area,"
Hermione explained, before tapping her
wand to it.
"Specialis Revelio."
Faint ink marks gradually appeared
across the map, a map that had
landmarks dotted with arbitrary signs,
along with footprints tracing across
every so often, each set of footprints
tagged with a specific name. The number
of footprints across the map was
numerous, so much so that most of it was
overlapping.
"You can trace people from here,"
Hermione continued, and Andromeda
couldn't help but lean over the girl's
shoulder to study it in curiosity. She
practically had to squint to make sense
of each label and each set of footprints.
"When Draco couldn't participate in the
previous few missions, he used this to
track us from home and told us which
places were deathtrapsthat we had to
avoid."
"Where is our house on the map?"
"It's unplottable. It's just like how You-
Know-Who can't track Draco here. I
think it has something to do with Grus's
magic.
But I believe we're somewhere here,"
she pointed to a specific area on the
map. "I only hope that Draco and the
others aren't somewhere unplottable,
because it'd be impossible to find them."
"Not impossible," Andromeda suddenly
reached over, pointing to a street
labelled Knockturn Alley.
"There they are."
Several pops of apparition sounded at
that moment, and Luna and the others
rushed in mere seconds later, all of them
looking equally flustered. "'Mione – "
Ron began to speak but Hermione held
up a hand to stop him. The wind was
knocked out of her lungs as she scanned
the names in that same area.
Draco Malfoy. Walden MacNair.
Theodore Nott. Alecto Carrow.
The names went on and on, the footprints
all overlapping, making it impossible for
her to see a particular name in its
entirety. This wasn't a normal mission.
They were out there battling the top
Death-Eaters that had captured and kept
her in captivity for the past three years.
The blood rush to her ears, and all at
once, it seemed like the worst of her
nightmares were about to become a
reality.
"Hermione?" Harry's gentle voice broke
her thoughts.
She blinked, staring back at their
worried faces. She'd always been an
over-thinker, but at that moment, she was
quick to make a spur of the moment
decision. Draco was fighting for her, and
she had to help him. "Get to Knockturn
Alley. Now."
Time to face her demons.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The startled silence reigned for about
five blissful seconds before Dolohov
had his wand aimed directly at Draco.
"Malfoy," his voice was entirely cordial,
which simply meant that his intentions
were all the more deadly.
"Dolohov," Draco greeted pleasantly.
His mind was working rapidly. He
wanted nothing more than to kill every
one of the six in this room, but there was
something else he needed to do first.
"How've you been?"
"Don't change the subject, Malfoy," he
said sharply. It was evident that Dolohov
was the head of this entire fiasco, and
Draco almost swore at himself for not
having guessed that sooner. Just because
Dolohov was in Azkaban didn't mean
that he didn't have a part to play in
Hermione's capture.
"You have exactly three minutes to state
your intent before the Dark Lord's army
finds you. That is – if I don't kill you
first."
"You wouldn't," Draco said calmly,
dragging up his sleeve to expose his
Dark Mark, holding it out to Dolohov.
"You're going to call the other Death-
Eaters away – "
"Who the hell do you think you are,
Malfoy – "
" – or I'll let the Dark Lord know that his
most trusted Death-Eaters have been
conspiring against him in search for the
Deathly Hallows. I'm sure he'll be
thrilled to know that you intend to kill
him to gain mastery of the Elder Wand."
His words were met with furious
silence. Yaxley, in particular, was
seething and Draco purposely directed a
smug wink at him.
"Understandably," Draco continued
calmly, "I'm more than willing to make a
fair trade. Get rid of the tracker," he
paused, reaching into the pocket of his
jeans and drawing out a familiar silver-
coloured stone – the bait. "And I'll let
you have this."
"Accio Resurrection Stone!"
Draco rolled his eyes at Amycus
Carrow, the Stone still nestled perfectly
in his palm. "Don't be daft, Carrow, you
should know better that the Summoning
charm doesn't work on this."
Dolohov laughed.
"Malfoy, you're clearly overestimating
yourself if you think that you can make a
successful trade with the six of us when
there's just one of you – "
He stopped when there came a sudden
rustling sound from behind him. And
Draco's heart sank in dread as he
realised that Theo had blown their cover
far too soon.
"Or," Dolohov's eyes were gleaming
now, "maybe there are two of you.
Crucio!" He hit the invisible Theo with a
strong Cruciatus, and Theo dropped to
his feet with a sharp yell.
The plan was quickly falling to pieces
and Draco didn't hesitate to direct his
wand at the huge table in the middle of
the room.
"Expulso!"
The table flipped across the room,
hitting the two Carrows and Dolohov out
of the way. The rest of the Peverells
scattered to avoid the blasting spell, and
the diversion was sufficient time for
Draco to race across the room, reaching
around until he felt Theo's arm and
pulled him out of the way.
"Get out of here," he hissed, deflecting a
curse that Yaxley shot his way. MacNair
and Rabastan were kept busy by Pansy
and Blaise respectively, both of whom
had revealed themselves the moment
Theo was discovered.
"I'm fine," Theo muttered through gritted
teeth, dragging himself off the ground
and removing the Disillusionment charm
on himself, turning his wand on the
Carrows, who had swiftly recovered
and were now heading towards them.
"Stupefy!"
But as Draco's Mark began to burn in a
searing pain, he realised that they didn't
have long. The rest of the Death-Eaters
were on their way, and they had to take
down as many of the Peverells as they
could and get the hell out of there.
But these were not usual Death-Eaters,
the six of them had instincts that rivalled
his own, and did not hesitate to using the
Darker curses. Draco kept his eye out on
his friends as he duelled. Pansy had a
terrible split lip and her left arm was
twistedat an unnatural angle, while
Blaise's mouth was bloodied. Keeping a
good grip on Theo, who stumbled every
so often, Draco fended off spells and
shot back several hard-hitting ones of his
own, only to have them deflected easily.
When he sent a strong stinging curse that
slit a brilliant welt across Dolohov's
cheek, the Death-Eater swore and
draggedhis arm across his face before
turning on him.
"Incarcerous!"
Draco, who was too busy fending off the
Carrows' curses, didn't see this coming.
In a flash, he felt thick ropes wind round
him and he was dragged across the floor,
his chest struggling to breathe against the
weight of the curse.
Amidst Theo's horrified yell, he heard
Dolohov's angry voice.
"Give me the Stone, Malfoy."
"Come and get it," Draco taunted, neatly
twisting out of the way as Dolohov shot
three consecutive spells at him.
But the ropes were still cutting into his
skin and he found himself at Yaxley's
feet, a triumphant smile crossing the
Death-Eater's face as he aimed his wand
at Draco.
"Cru – "
"Expelliarmus!"
Everyone paused at the unfamiliar voice.
And Draco's eyes widened as Neville
stepped into the room, his wand calmly
aimed at Yaxley. Hermione was beside
him, and Draco was even more stunned
when he saw Harry, Ginny, Ron and
Luna trail behind them, their wands all
raised and poised to attack.
Yaxley was the first to speak, his eyes
gleaming as he focused solely on
Hermione.
"If it isn't our favourite little Mudblood."
Hermione visibly flinched, the colour
rapidly draining from her face, but she
levelled him an even look.
"I-I'm not afraid of you anymore."
"Of course you're not. You're just afraid
of all those nights we spent torturing you
until you were nothing but a pathetic,
mewling quim, begging for a morsel of
food or healing potion, screaming
yourself hoarse like the worthless – "
But his words were abruptly cut off
when Draco, having gotten rid of the
ropes during the short period of silence,
shot a spell that made him fall to his feet.
"Crucio."
Yaxley's scream rang out in the horrified
silence, and Draco's hands were around
the man's throat in an instant, like a
python ready to squeeze the life out of its
prey. His vision was blurred with a fury
that made him almost dizzy with
adrenaline of the most toxic kind. The
blood was pounding in his ears and he
heard nothing else – not the horrified
gasps from the others as they saw him
use the Cruciatus so freely, not the flurry
of hexes and spells as the fighting
resumed – nothing but the choked sobs
from Yaxley as the man struggled for
breath.
"You sick fucking bastard," Draco
hissed, his voice shaking with anger as
he stared into Yaxley's terrified eyes.
"I'm not even going to grant you the
privilege of dying a quick, painless
death because you don't fucking deserve
it – "
But firm, stubborn arms were dragging
him away from Yaxley in the next
second. Draco saw a brief blur of Harry
and Neville in his peripheral vision,
prying him off a choking Yaxley.
"Malfoy, don't!" Harry shouted, "he's not
worth it!"
Draco shrugged Harry off him, vicious
fury still clouding his vision. He was
about to hurl another curse at Yaxley
when someone charged right at him,
completely knocking him to the ground.
Rabastan. Then Dolohov and Amycus
were joining in the scuffle, dragging
Harry and Neville to the ground before
either of them could even react, and
Draco suddenly found the Resurrection
Stone wrenched out from his pocket.
"Expulso!" Draco shot a curse at
Amycus when the man pried it away.
But Amycus ducked, and the spell shot
right at his sister, Alecto, behind him,
who had been duelling Luna and Theo.
Alecto was blasted back into the wall as
Theo barely put out a shield to protect
himself and Luna just in time.
"Stop him!" Draco yelled, trying to pry
himself from the scuffle as the Amycus
began to run out of the room. Ron, who
was battling MacNair alongside Blaise
and Hermione, quickly glanced over at
Draco, who signalled him towards the
escaping Death-Eater.
"Get the Stone!"
"Stupefy!"
Ron shot a stunning curse at the Death-
Eater, who promptly fell over. And then
Ron was hurling himself at Amycus,
trying to wrestle the Stone from him as
Ginny rushed over to help.
Draco twisted away from Dolohov and
physically dragged the man aside. "I'm
not fucking around, Dolohov," he spat,
gripping the Death-Eater's robes tightly.
He dragged up his own sleeve and
shoved the bloodied Mark in front of
Dolohov's face. "Get rid of this. There
are only two people who can do it other
than the Dark Lord, and one of them is
you."

"I'm not going to – "

Draco dug his wand into the man's
throat.
"Remove the fucking tracker or I will
kill you," he seethed, noticing how the
other members of 17-65 were looking at
him worriedly, thoroughly frightened by
his behaviour. But he was just a haze of
anger now, the anger a trigger scent that
had set him off, spiralling him right back
into the person he used to be before he
found Hermione Granger. Cold,
merciless and ruthless.
Dolohov's eyes locked with his.
"You have to kill me first."
A furious growl of frustration slipped
past Draco's lips as he slammed the
Death-Eater against the wall. He wanted
nothing more than to kill Dolohov, but he
couldn't, not yet. Twisting Dolohov's
wand away from his hands, Draco
snapped the wand cleanly into two,
dropping it onto the ground. Then he
held his own wand to the man's temple.
"Legilimens."
Dolohov wasn't fast enough to keep him
out, and Draco had quickly located the
exact memory he was searching for. He
had a few seconds of reprieve before
Dolohov was pushing him out of his
head, out of the labyrinth of memories.
With remarkable strength, Dolohov
roughly shoved him away before
disapparating on the spot.

"Fuck," Draco was infuriated at having

lost the opportunity to view the counter-
curse for the Dark charm that had clearly
been placed on him. He had been so
close to getting rid of it, the last fucking
connection he had to the Dark Lord.
"Draco."
Blaise's voice snapped him out of his
thoughts and he turned around. He was
startled to see that the fighting behind
had ceased, his friends all gathered and
ready to leave. Some of them still
looked frightened by what they had just
witnessed, but the three Slytherins were
hardly bothered, and Hermione just
stared at him with faint understanding in
her eyes.
"We have to get out of here," Blaise
continued calmly, "now."
"Fine." Draco glanced round at the
destroyed room. Alecto Carrow was
still lying in an unconscious heap, while
Amycus too was knocked out cold. But
Yaxley and MacNair had clearly
disapparated before they could be
caught, and so had Dolohov, mere
seconds ago.
Then Draco noticed Rabastan Lestrange
caught under a pile of rubble. Rabastan
caught sight of Draco and spat out a
mouthful of blood. "You're just like your
parents – a fucking disgrace," Rabastan
sneered, "and now you're siding with the
fucking Mudblood – "
Draco was striding across the room
before anyone could stop him, gripping
Rabastan by his Death-Eater robes.
"What did you say?"
"Bellatrix was right – she always
thought your parents were snivelling
lapdogs. Your mother was a traitor and a
worthless shit, and your father was
worse, he hid behind your stupid mother
and deserved to die – "

"So did your fucking brother –

Rodolphus," Draco returned, fighting to
keep his voice calm. His hands were
clenched so tightly around Rabastan's
robes that his knuckles were white.
"Rodolphus was a useless shit too, just
like your parents. But you," Rabastan
laughed mirthlessly, his eyes glinting in
some sort of evil satisfaction as he
noticed the way Draco's eyes darkened.
"You take things to a whole new level.
Toying with the Dark Lord, deceiving
him for years, rescuing that filthy little
slag after we broke her with the
Cruciatus – "
"Thanks for reminding me," Draco's eyes
glazed over into something entirely
lethal, and his wand was at Rabastan's
neck before the man could even finish
his sentence.

"Avada – "

"Draco."
Hermione's voice was soft and broke the
trance that he'd sunk into. After so many
kills, it almost became entirely too easy.
Draco's head snapped up. He glanced
over at her, focused only on her, the way
she shook her head and lifted her hand,
holding it out for him to take.
It was the way it had always been. She
was light and he was darkness; and yet,
like a fumbling, ugly moth, he was
constantly attracted to the light even
though he knew he would forever reside
in some of the shadiest corners of the
dark.
Climbing to his feet, Draco crossed the
room and headed towards her, only to
pause when Rabastan spoke again.
"You're not even going to kill me?"
Rabastan's tone was mocking.
"Seems like living with your Mudblood
whore has made you weak."
Draco's face was impassive as he stared
at Rabastan.

"Survive this," he said quietly, and

turned his wand on Rabastan.

"Diffindo."

He grabbed Hermione's hand as the two

of them disapparated, Rabastan's shrill
screams a never-ending loop echoing in
his ears as the Death-Eater's flesh ripped
to shreds.
There was a tense silence that greeted
Hermione the moment she found herself
back at Andromeda's with Draco. The
rest had already apparated back and for
a moment, no one spoke. Hermione
could see that, apart from the Slytherins
and perhaps Luna, the rest of them were
more than disturbed by what they had
just seen.
Draco's grip on her hand was far too
tight, almost desperate. He placed a
brief hand on her hip to steady her in the
after-effects of their side-along
apparition, but once she had regained
her balance, he snatched his hands off
her as though her touch had scorched
him. Then he was storming off, heading
up the stairs without so much as a
backward glance.
Hermione wanted to follow him, but
faltered when she noticed how cut up
Theo and Pansy looked. Her unwavering
sense of duty won eventually, and she
silently went to the kitchen to put
together a tray of healing potions. She
heard the group talking in the
background – Ron wanting to know what
happened while Blaise seemed more
than grateful for the help.
Ginny was still trying to wrap her head
around the fact that Draco could so
easily use the Unforgivables without so
much as blinking, while Pansy was
adamant that it was necessary at a time
like this.
But when Neville suggested that the
Order wouldn't like to hear about what
Draco had done, Theo was on his feet in
a flash, his lips curling in aggravation.
"You're not working for the Order now,
are you, Longbottom?"
"Well, technically – "
"Yes, we get it, you're the new Chosen
One, you're still the Order's puppet. But
this mission had nothing to do with the
Order. It was just plain old-fashioned
revenge, Slytherin-style."
"But that's not how the side of good
fights – "
"Case in point – we're not good."
Hermione hurried back to the living
room, the tray of healing potions in her
hands. She nudged Pansy to sit so that
she could see to the girl's bruises, while
Luna did the same for Theo. As she
waited for Pansy to drink one blue-
coloured potion, she turned to Blaise,
murmuring something into his ear. He
nodded grimly and quickly pushed
himself off the sofa, heading up the stairs
two steps at a time. After he was gone,
she turned to Neville, her voice quiet but
firm when she spoke.
"Draco did it for me," she held up a hand
when he began to protest.
"I'm not saying it's right. But I'd be lying
if I said I didn't feel like doing the same
myself."
"Actually," Ron interjected, the light in
his eyes surprisingly understanding.
"This makes sense. Don't get me wrong –
I'm not a cold, cruel wank like Malfoy,"
he added, unable to help himself, and
grinned when Hermione shook her head
at him in silent mirth. "But there are
times when I'm on the field, and I'm
trying to take down a Death-Eater with
light hexes, but sometimes you just want
them gone, you know? Not just from that
battle, but – forever. So instead of a
stunning hex, I sometimes find myself
using hard-hitting spells."
Ginny leaned forward, a troubled frown
on her face. "But when you use a Crucio,
like Malfoy did earlier, you actually
have to mean it, or it doesn't hurt.

So..."
"You're insinuating that Draco has a
sadistic, bloodthirsty streak in him?"
Pansy deadpanned. And when Ginny
flushed and nodded, Pansy simply
shrugged.
"Well, yeah. What did you expect? He
was practically raised by Bellatrix for
the entire of his Death-Eater career."
"War brings out the worst in good
people," Luna interjected, and Hermione
smiled. She couldn't have phrased it
better herself.
"So does love," the blonde witch added
innocently, and that was when Hermione
promptly blushed a brilliant shade of
red.
"Gotta agree with Lovegood there,"
Theo grinned, clearly sensing
Hermione's discomfort and revelling in
it.
"I've never seen Draco so ruthless
before. I guess all is fair – and cruel and
hot and animalistic – in love and
war...ow!"
He swore under his breath when
Hermione purposely pressed her thumb
down hard on one of his bruises.

Harry, on the other hand, simply

chuckled. "Did you just quote from a
Muggle poet?"
"Blame Red. She quotes from all these
fucking weird books that Draco gets for
her from the Black Market, and most – if
not all of them – are from Muggle
authors."
Blaise came down the steps at that
moment and he settled back down beside
Pansy, reaching forward to lay a phial on
the coffee table as per Hermione's
earlier request. Hermione set aside the
potions for the time being and picked up
the phial, studying it with a thoughtful
look on her face.
"You can all view this in the Pensieve
upstairs," she started quietly, "this phial
contains all my memories during the
three years I spent in captivity. And if
you don't feel the slightest bit of that hot
rush of violent anger after viewing it,
then you can tell the Order what Draco
did. But you will have to tell the Order
every bit of what those Death-Eaters did
to me, recounting every single memory
in great detail."
Her eyes roved round the group. Neville
looked sufficiently chastised while
Ginny was subdued. Ron, on the other
hand, was pale with guilt, but Hermione
shook her head at him, mouthing the
words 'you don't have to'. He
immediately let out a sigh of relief.
"We're not telling the Order anything,"
Harry cut into the silence, placing a
comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"Believe me – I've seen Hermione's
memories and I felt the same way
Malfoy did when I saw the Death-Eaters
earlier. I just didn't act on it."
Harry's voice was cool and
authoritative, and she suddenly saw why
people thought him fit to lead the battle
three years ago. She reached up to give
his hand a grateful squeeze and sent a
warm smile in Ron's direction, glad to
have the both of them on her side in this
matter.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

She found Draco sitting on the floor

beside their bed, his elbows braced on
his knees and head buried in his arms. It
was his posture, perhaps, the way he cut
a sorry, forlorn figure as he sat on the
stone cold ground that made her heart
clench painfully.
Hermione shut the door behind her,
casting muffling charms on the room and
headed towards him. She reached out to
touch his arm, but the moment her fingers
made contact with his skin, he jerked up
and pulled away, silver eyes hard and
almost haunted.
"Don't."
This wasn't new. She remembered how
he'd acted the same way back when he'd
been forced to use the Cruciatus under
You-Know-Who's orders. He was
working himself into a guilt-ridden, self-
loathing haze, the monsters in his head
once again overwhelming every and any
monster out there in the world.
Slowly, tentatively, she took another step
closer to him. If he'd been a predator
earlier, then he was the prey now. It was
like approaching an injured, wounded
animal, and she held out a hand to him,
waiting for him to make the first move.
"Give me your arm."
"Hermione – "
"I could wait here all day if I have to.
Your arm, Draco."

Reluctantly, he lifted his arm, and

Hermione fought the urge to flinch when
she saw the bloodied scratches across
his Dark Mark, the inflamed skin around
it and the bits of his flesh actually
gouged out, like he was trying to
physically rid himself of the Mark
through magic. Instead, she bit her lip
and went about trying to fix his arm
using the tray of medicine she'd gathered
from the kitchen earlier.
But the moment she was done binding it
up, he pulled away from her again. He
began to pace, rapidly, disjointedly,
running shaky fingers through his hair
and blinking hard, as Hermione stood up
and watched him unsurely.
"I can't fucking get him out," his voice
sounded almost strangled when he
spoke. "For years, I've been working for
him. And now that I'm finally out, away
from him, he still somehow manages to
fucking control me."
"I know."
"His magic is literally in me.
Hermione," and his eyes flickered to
hers now, desperate and pleading, "I
have to get it out.
This – this fucking connection, I have to
end it somehow. I would literally cut off
my fucking arm if it means getting him
out of my system."
"Draco, just because your Mark is active
and has a special connection with You-
Know-Who, it doesn't mean that you're
just like him."
"Actually, I think I am. Did you even see
me earlier? Fuck, Hermione, if you
hadn't stopped me earlier I would've
killed Rabastan without fucking
blinking."
"Honestly? I wanted you to kill him."
Draco's eyes flew to hers and she smiled
softly.
"But I also know that you ruin a part of
yourself when you kill. And he wasn't
worth it. None of them are. Just you."
It was the closest to a verbal confession
she'd ever made, but Draco outdid her
when he closed the distance between
them in three purposeful strides. And
then his lips were crashing down on
hers, rough and fervent all at once, as he
eased her back against the wall, her feet
stumbling with his swift action but his
hands on her hips were there to balance
her if she ever fell. His tongue was the
kind of luscious hot velvet when he
prodded through the seam of her lips,
kissing her so thoroughly she could
barely breathe.
To hell with oxygen, Hermione thought
briefly, she didn't need it – and she
eagerly kissed him back, reaching up to
loop her arms around his neck to tug him
closer, carding her fingers through his
soft blond hair. A low groan wrenched
itself from his throat when she nipped
daringly at his bottom lip, and then he
was dragging his lips away, freckling a
kiss on her chin, sponging several across
her jawline, sweeping down the column
of her throat, until he found her pulse
point.
This is how you know I'm alive, the
thought scarred itself across her mind.
She brazenly pressed her body against
him; her hips flush against his, her breath
hitching when she found him hard and
wanting. And this, she thought, a
satisfied smile curving her lips when he
momentarily shuttered, his head
dropping on her shoulder as he let out a
guttural growl, this is how I know you're
alive.
His tongue scorched her when he laved
over her skin and then her mind wasn't
empty, no, it was racing when he began a
delicious combination of licking,
sucking and nipping on the same spot;
and Hermione let out several breathy
moans and whimpers when he did the
same after shifting to a spot higher on
her neck, then another just below her ear.
Then he drew back slightly, his breaths
still hot and unsteady, his fingers equally
as hot and unsteady as they dug into her
hips. "I love you," he whispered, "don't
ask me how or when, don't even say it
back, just know that I really fucking do –
love you, that is."
Hermione felt her breath lodge in her
throat. She tugged him up so that his face
was leveled with hers; but his eyes were
shut tight, and she brushed her lips
lightly against his, watching as he finally
opened his eyes. Merlin, he looked
terrified, a storm of emotions within the
depths of his grey eyes.
"That's good," she said softly, "because I
love you too."

He smiled then. It was the most honest,

genuinely thrilled smile she ever saw
from him, rare and boyish and utterly
beautiful. The sight of it made her
breathless or perhaps he was the one
who made her breathless, because he'd
captured her lips within seconds and
then he was kissing her, again and again
and again, until her mind was racing
with thoughts of nothing but him, until he
was all she could think of.
46 | scourgify

46
s cour gi fy

Cleans target object.

Andromeda was a whirlwind of

excitement when she rushed into the
kitchen several afternoons later.
Hermione was seated at the table with
Blaise, Theo and Luna, the four of them
elbows deep in separate bowls of flour
and sugar.
Baking.
Theo had come in earlier and almost
laughed out a lung at the sight, but then
Luna had remarked something about how
girls – especially the Patil twins – liked
men who could bake, and Theo was
promptly reeled in hook, line and sinker.
Hermione and Blaise had exchanged
amused glances. There was something
very unusual about the friendship that
had sprung between Theo had Luna. In
earlier days, it mostly consisted of Theo
calling her "Loony" and swearing under
his breath whenever she brought up
something entirely out of this world (out
of any world, really), but the animosity
had long since diffused into something
else.
So a new bet had begun, this time
centred on Theo and Luna. Draco and
Pansy thought that Theo still liked his
slags and would continue his hedonistic
activity to the ends of this earth. Ron and
Harry had agreed too, and jumped on the
bandwagon by offering their share of
two galleons each. Hermione, on the
other hand, was a hopeless romantic and
she, Blaise and Ginny thought there
might be some potential between them.
Neville, of course, wasn't involved in
the picture. According to Ron, he'd been
– "head over heels for Luna, but the git
still hasn't summoned any balls to ask
her out". Whereupon Draco had offered
to conjure up some literal balls for
Neville, you know, just for fun.
Ginny had smacked him then.
And Hermione had approved.
She was still thinking about this incident
when Andromeda's voice broke her
trend of thought. Pushing aside her bowl
of batter, Hermione looked up at the
older witch, who was telling them two
things – the first being that the Order had
just gone on a siege to take over the
Malfoy Manor.
"The Order's been setting its sights on
that place for a long time," Andromeda
said, as she put on her apron and took
the bowl from Theo, who was making a
horrendous mess. "They finally managed
to break down the wards less than an
hour ago."
Blaise blinked. "The Dark Lord's
headquarters isn't guarded?"
"Apparently, Arthur Weasley says that's
no longer the headquarters. It's been
relocated."
"Where to?"
Andromeda looked faintly hesitant.
"Well – Hogwarts."
A silence descended upon the group.
Hermione could practically see the
expressions of nostalgia on Blaise,
Theo, Luna and even Andromeda's faces
as they evidently recalled their days
spent in the school.
"So," Theo finally began, "if the Order
wants to defeat the Dark Lord, they're
going to have to face him off at
Hogwarts?
Again?"
Blaise shook his head.
"I can't believe the final battle's going to
be at Hogwarts."
"It all ends where it first began," Luna
didn't seem at all disturbed by the turn of
events. Andromeda nodded in
agreement, but Hermione didn't miss the
faint flicker of sadness in her eyes. After
all, Tonks and Remus had died during
the battle of Hogwarts three years ago.
Hermione vaguely wondered if
Andromeda would ever step foot back in
Hogwarts again, where the ghosts of the
past still lingered.

"What else did you want to tell us,

Andromeda?" Hermione asked, in an
attempt to divert the conversation to a
lighter matter.
"Oh, right," Andromeda's face lit up
now, but she jerked her head in the
direction of the living room. Hermione
quickly got up and followed her out,
watching as Andromeda cast a wordless
muffling charm on the room before
speaking. They spoke quietly and
quickly, and moments later, Hermione
was grabbing her satchel and the Cloak
of Invisibility. She had just stepped out
on the front porch, getting ready to
Apparate when a familiar voice stopped
her.
"Hey, 'Mione, where're you going?"
Ron.
Hermione spun round quickly, her lips
tilting up in a bright smile as she saw the
redheaded wizard and Harry a good
distance away, heading down the path
towards Andromeda's house. Ever since
Draco had expanded 17-65, there was
never a day that Harry, Ron, Neville or
Ginny didn't visit the house, and they
spent most of their time there too,
occasionally staying over when they ran
late-night missions.
Hermione figured it was only sooner or
later before they'd ask to move in. Draco
would have a blue fit when that day
came and she could only hope that
Blaise would capture it on his camera in
time.
"I'm going on a heist," she told Harry
and Ron now, her smile widening when
she saw the looks of surprise on their
faces.
"Are you coming with me?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"I can't believe I'm risking my life for a

bloody Ferret."
Hermione grinned at Ron's disgruntled
face and slung a casual arm around his
shoulder. He was much taller than she
was, though not quite as tall as Draco,
and she had to push herself on the tips of
her toes to hang onto him, with her other
arm around Harry.
"Breaking into the bloody Malfoy
Manor, while the Order's battling a
whole hoard of Death-Eaters at the very
same place," Ron continued to grumble,
even though he secretly looked pleased
about the prospect of the Golden Trio
finally going on a mission together again,
"honestly, if we get ourselves killed I'm
going to haunt the Ferret everywhere he
goes."
"Everywhere, really?" Harry smirked in
amusement.
"Even to the loo?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, thanks very much
for putting that bloody idea into my
head."
"You're very welcome. Now I know you
fancy Hermione's boyfriend."
"Don't make me hex you – "
Hermione stifled a giggle and shushed
the both of them as a nearby window
exploded into smithereens. They were
carefully hidden behind a thicket of
bushes, with the Cloak of Invisibility
hiding the three of them. Ron had said it
felt a lot like old times, although Harry
was more than sceptical because he
realised that the three of them together
could barely fit under the Cloak.
"Okay, the coast is clear, what now?"
Hermione carefully considered Ron's
question. "Andromeda said it would be
somewhere in the attic, where they keep
the rest of the Dark potions and
ingredients. So we'll start from there."
Swiftly, she cast a Disillusionment
charm on the three of them, before
stuffing the Cloak back into her satchel.
"Come on."
"Just out of curiosity," Harry said, as
they headed towards the side door, "how
did you find out that You-Know-Who
had phials of phoenix tears?"
"Well, Andromeda used Legilimency on
Mundungus Fletcher. She said that since
he was a certified thief, he'd know
where to get illegal and rare goods.
Turns out that Fletcher's in charge of
stealing a lot of healing potions from the
Malfoy Manor itself, although how he
gets in is entirely beyond me."

"So that's how the Order has an endless

supply of Dittany," Ron sounded
impressed. "I couldn't figure out why.
The D.A.'s been trying to find
ingredients for potions, but those they
find at Diagon Alley's bloody pricey."
"Everything at Diagon Alley is these
days. If you're not pilfering from You-
Know-Who's stash, then you have to go
to the Black Market. They have
everything there."
Harry let out a noise of sheer surprise.
"Since when were you into illegal
goods?"
Hermione smiled innocently.
"Well, Draco can sort of be considered
illegal, and his goods are – "
"Bloody hell, Hermione, don't you dare
finish that sentence!" Ron cried,
sounding utterly appalled.
"You've been spending too much time
with Ferret and Company."
Hermione chuckled. She wasn't actually
going to finish the sentence, but she
honestly couldn't resist seeing, or
hearing, their reactions. But they were
now at the doorstep of the Malfoy
Manor, and she quickly focused on the
matter at hand.
"Okay, ready?" She asked. Harry and
Ron mumbled in agreement beside her.
Slowly, hesitantly, she pushed open the
door, only to hear a cacophony of spells
and hexes being cast in arbitrary
directions, the occasional scream of pain
and the patters of footsteps. Hermione
wasn't intending to participate in the
fight – all she wanted to do was to get
in, get the Phoenix tears and get out,
undetected.
The trio were silent as they made their
way through the Malfoy Manor, and
Hermione knew exactly what Ron and
Harry were thinking. It seemed like just
yesterday that the three of them were at
Malfoy Manor. Even though Hermione
was vague on the details, she
remembered one part of it perfectly –
and she could practically picture herself
lying on the marbled floor as Bellatrix
Lestrange carved the word Mudblood
into her arm.
Without thinking, she slipped her hand
through Harry's, and he tightened his grip
on hers comfortingly. They headed down
the narrow hallway, cowering behind a
pillar when a Death-Eater was suddenly
flung against the wall next to them. He
recovered swiftly, sending a dazzling
red light back at whoever had hexed
him, before striding into the room again.
They passed the same room, but Ron
seemed to pause at the sight of a badly
bleeding Dean Thomas duelling two
Death-Eaters simultaneously.
"Go," Hermione told Ron softly, nudging
him in Dean's direction.
"He needs your help."
"But – "
"Harry and I will be fine. We'll meet you
in the attic."
Ron quickly went over to Dean,
removing his Disillusionment charm and
yelling back hexes with the kind of
determination only seen on the
battlefield. Several doors down,
Hermione urged Harry to help Professor
Trelawney, who was lying beneath a pile
of rubble, and headed on alone.
Going on a mission with Ron and Harry
was proving to be vastly different from
the ones she went on with the four
Slytherins – with them, it was just sheer
focus on the mission at hand, without any
regard to the people around them. Ron
and Harry, on the other hand, were more
concerned with the well-being of their
allies, even at the cost of jeopardising
the mission.
She was still keeping close to the wall,
blended in perfectly with her
surroundings under the Cloak, when she
accidentally bumped her head. Wincing,
she glanced up, only to frown when she
saw absolutely nothing. She reached out,
only to hit something that protruded
slightly from the wall.
Her wand was out in the blink of an eye.
"Finite Incantatem."

What she saw next was completely

unexpected – a portrait of the Malfoy
family shimmered into visibility again,
the same one she had seen Narcissa
staring at when viewing her memories in
the Pensieve. She didn't know why it had
vanished, but she didn't think twice
about magically shrinking the portrait
and stuffing it into her bag.

Draco would want this. She knew he

would.
Making her way down the narrow
hallway, she finally approached the
stairs and began to scale it quickly,
hiding at every corner she found just in
case. She had to duck past two stray
spells on the way, and she was just
thankful that they were simple stunning
spells, and not darker ones. It took
awhile, but she finally found the attic
and climbed the winding stairs that led
up to the uppermost room.
Once inside, she didn't waste a moment
to find the phoenix tears. She found
several phials of it in one of the shelves
and shoved them into her satchel, along
with several other important potion
ingredients, like bezoar and mandrake
essences. There were darker potions,
ones that she recognised from the
volatile liquids sloshing within the
bottles, and she le䏉 those alone.
She was still clattering about among the
bottles when she heard a sudden shifting
behind her, and she spun round.
Footsteps. Someone was making their
way up the stairs. Heart racing in
trepidation, she quickly ducked behind a
shelf, just in case it wasn't Harry or Ron.
It wasn't.
And Hermione saw the living
embodiment of one of her greatest
nightmares step into the room, a tall
witch with a mess of raven black hair
and a slightly deranged look on her
features. Her shoulders were tilted back
proudly, fearlessly, and her lips were
curled in a half-sneer, half-grin that
made her look almost maniacal.
It was almost an instinctive reaction for
Hermione's thoughts to flit to Draco in
the next second, wishing desperately that
he was right by her side at that moment.
Just as he was when the same aunt of his
had tortured her to an inch of her sanity.
She remained stock still now, willing
herself not to breathe. But Bellatrix, with
the ease of a proficient wizard who had
been in far too many battles, had reached
out to remove the Disillusionment charm
in the blink of an eye. And then
Hermione found herself at wand-point,
with the tip of Bellatrix's wand digging
tightly into her throat.
"Fancy seeing you again, mudblood,"
Bellatrix smiled, and for a moment,
Hermione could actually feel the scar on
her arm pulse to life. "I figured a little
bitch like you had died a long time ago.
Guess I was wrong."
Hermione felt her mind shut down. The
words were stuck in her throat, her lungs
clawing for a breath that would not
come. Merlin, she was terrified, and that
didn't even begin to describe how she
was feeling.
Bellatrix reached over and twisted the
girl's arm behind her back, preventing
Hermione from directing the wand at
her, ignoring the painful cry that escaped
the brunette's lips as she struggled
futilely. Bellatrix's sharp nails dug deep
into her skin, until she was sure they'd
created perforated dents and drawn out
blood in the process.
"That's right, Mudblood, embrace it,"
Bellatrix's laughter was the only thing
Hermione could hear, that and her own
staggered breaths. And now Bellatrix's
wand was a hot glow on her throat,
searing right into her skin. "This is what
fear feels like."
"Stupefy!"
Ron's voice was hard and furious as he
and Harry came rushing into the room.
Bellatrix evaded the spell and twisted,
snarling at them as she threw a hex at
Ron – the green light that jetted out from
her wand an indication of the killing
curse, plain and simple.
Ron barely evaded the spell, just as
Harry directed his wand at the ceiling.
"Reducto!"
Hermione wrenched herself out of
Bellatrix's grip and latched her hand on
Harry. The three of them quickly
disapparated, the sounds of falling
debris and deranged laughter echoing
like an endless loop in her head, the
phials of phoenix tears safe in her
satchel.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The Golden Trio apparated back in a

flurry of dust and grime. Once Hermione
had steadied herself, she turned to the
two boys, ignoring the flaming pain on
her throat.
"Thanks for saving me."
Harry shook his head.
"We've always got your back, you know
that."
She shot them a grateful smile and
together, the three of them slowly headed
into the kitchen. Harry was stumbling
slightly, having sprained his leg earlier
while helping an Order member in a
fight, while Ron was picking out shards
of rock that had grazed his arm.
"Merlin," he mused, dragging his elbow
up to examine a nasty scrape on it.
"That bloody Bellatrix really has it in
for you – "
And then he trailed off as the three of
them suddenly noticed the people in the
kitchen. Blaise, Theo, Luna and
Andromeda were still baking, but now
Draco was in there as well. Andromeda
looked utterly relieved to see them, and
the others mumbled greetings, but
Hermione felt her breath catch as she
noticed the look on Draco's face.
His eyes were wide with disbelief, his
posture stiff with surprise. It was
evident that he didn't know a thing – it
was exactly what she and Andromeda
had planned after all, to get the Phoenix
tears without Draco knowing anything
about it.
"Bellatrix?" He repeated, a hard edge in
his voice, "you three saw Bellatrix?"
"Actually, we saved 'Mione from
Bellatrix – ow!" Ron trailed off as
Hermione elbowed him.
"Where the hell did the three of you go?"
The taut anger in Draco's tone was
enough for Blaise, Theo and Luna to
scramble up from their chairs, hurriedly
excusing themselves from the kitchen.
Draco didn't even notice them leave, his
eyes were focused on Hermione, and
when he caught sight of the burn on her
neck, his face darkened with fury, a
frightening sort of murderous intent in
his expression.
"And what the fuck did she do to you?"
"Malfoy – " Harry stepped forward in an
attempt to explain, but Hermione held
him back.
"I'll explain everything to you in a bit,
Draco." She levelled him with a
pleading look that seemed to soften his
features and he sighed heavily, turning to
the shelves to search for a healing
potion.
"Here, 'Dromeda," she pulled the bottles
out of her bag and handed it to the older
witch, before patting Harry and Ron on
their backs.
"Thanks, you two, I really appreciate it."
"Anytime," Ron returned with a grin,
while Harry gave Hermione a pointed
look, his eyes flickering between her and
Draco.
Hermione simply sighed and shook her
head. It might be a little tedious to
explain this to Draco, but she was
certain she could do it.
Funnily enough, it turned out that her
worries were unnecessary.
Because the moment they were in their
room, Draco had her pressed up against
the door, cradling her face carefully in
his palms as he kissed her gently. He
kept it brief, a light brush of the lips that
had her aching for more. "I know," he
mumbled against her lips.
"I don't know what you did, but I know
you did it for me – so thank you."
She smiled brightly as she looked up at
him. "How'd you figure?"
"I'm brilliant, Granger."
Rolling her eyes, she huffed and pushed
him away, but her lips were still
twitching in amusement.
"'Dromeda and I were trying to find a
way to break whatever bond you seem to
have with You-Know-Who," she started,
wincing lightly when he tapped his wand
to the wound on her neck.

Instantly, the discomfort ceased and he

held out a phial for her to drink, which
she did without any complaints. Once
she was done, she handed the bottle back
to Draco. He took it, but kept her body
tightly melded compliantly against his,
content to just hold her there, arms
wrapped tightly around her waist,
fingers tracing arbitrary patterns along
the small of her back and sending tiny
delighted shivers glossing down her
spine.
"Anyway, based on Dolohov's memories
that you showed to 'Dromeda, and a lot
of research, it seems that she may have
chanced upon a way," Hermione said,
and smiled as Draco's eyes met hers in
surprise.
"She's very clever, and she seems to
have a strange but incredible
understanding of Dark Magic, for some
reason..."
"Not a surprise. 'Dromeda, my mum,
Bellatrix," he paused, a flicker of hatred
crossing his face when he all but spat
that last name, " – they were all brought
up in a family that practiced Dark
Magic."
"Oh, right. 'Dromeda says that the
counter-curse has effects similar to
Finite Incantatem – but only it's far more
complex and dangerous than that. Feels
much like the Cruciatus, although it
doesn't damage the brain, but it appears
that the physical effects will be far
worse. So, 'Dromeda asked Professor
Slughorn for an antidote, and he said that
creating a potion from unicorn's blood or
phoenix tears might help – we are
definitely ruling out unicorn's blood
because of its cursed effects – "
"So phoenix tears," there was a light of
understanding in his eyes now and he
nodded, almost reluctantly.
"You still should've told me, though. I
can't believe I spent four fucking hours
discussing plans with Shacklebolt,
McGonagall and Longbottom while you
were out there risking your life for me."
"I had help. Besides," she continued
softly, "you know I'd do anything for you,
right?"
"I'm not worth it, Hermione."
She ignored the self-loathing in his voice
and leaned forward to kiss him gently,
relishing the way he let out a throaty
groan in response.
"Anything," she promised against his
lips, knowing perfectly well that he
would do the same for her.
"To the moon and back."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

His nightmares were always quieter than

hers; so quiet that Hermione often didn't
even notice he was having one. But she'd
slept in the same bed for long enough to
figure out the movements he made while
unconscious – the sudden tightening of
the arm that was belted around her
waist, the unsteady falling breaths
against her neck, the way his fingers
curled so tightly into the palms of his
hands she was almost certain he'd bleed.
His actions awoke her several nights
later, and this time, Hermione didn't
waste a moment. She sat up in bed,
sliding her palms across his cheeks and
brushed the hair from his sweaty
forehead. "Draco. Draco, wake up!"
It took several more tried before he
awoke, his fingers flying up to clamp
down on her wrist tightly. His face was
highstrung with volatile terror, and he
had to blink several times before finally
fixing his gaze on her. And then his
features seemed to crumple up, he
looked like a hunted animal that was
about to meet its doom and something
about his expression looked awfully
familiar.
"It was just a nightmare," she assured
him, when he licked his dry lips to
speak, "you're safe now." But her words
fell on deaf ears as he suddenly lunged
out of bed, heading straight for the
bathroom as she gazed after him in
confusion.
"Draco?"
"Don't."
The door slammed shut behind him, the
lock from inside sliding into place with
a sharp, unrelenting click. And when he
didn't emerge from the bathroom after
ten minutes, Hermione began to frown.
She knew for a fact that she was just as
much of an open book to read as Draco
was a closed one. And after all these
months, she'd realised that he had a
knack for swallowing his emotions
whole and stewing in them for an
eternity, if no one else probed.

It was this and, of course, her

overwhelming worry for him, that made
her reach out for the wand on the
bedside table and climb out of bed. She
hovered just outside the bathroom for
about thirty seconds or so before
impatience finally got the better of her,
and she raised a hand to knock.
"Draco?"
There was nothing but silence from
inside.
Hermione inhaled and waved her wand
at the door. "Alohomora." The door
unlatched with a similar click, and she
didn't hesitate to push her palm flat
against the surface to step in.
"Draco, you know you can – "
But then she paused, blinking as she
noticed him. His arms were braced on
the sink, damp strips of hair falling into
his eyes, his cheeks several shades paler
than they had been moments ago. The
front neckline of his shirt was wet and
so was his face, like he had vigorously
dunked himself in water just to get rid of
all traces of the nightmare that he had. It
wasn't until she met his haunted grey
eyes in the mirror when she realised
exactly what he had dreamt about. There
was only one other time when he'd
stared at her the same way, and the
memory of it was perfectly embedded in
her mind, never effaced by the years of
torturing that she'd suffered.
"You had a nightmare about me," she
took a step closer, setting her wand
down on the counter.
"Of – Bellatrix torturing me at the
Manor, didn't you?"
He nodded numbly, but his gaze
instinctively darted down to the scar on
her arm. Even under the dim lighting of
the bathroom, her scar was still visible
as ever, a constant reminder of how he'd
failed her terribly so long ago. He
quickly glanced away and shut his eyes.
Carefully, Hermione slid her fingers up
his arm, holding her breath as she
expected him to flinch away. He didn't,
and she traced the ridges of veins that
slid within his Death Mark, feeling him
tense beneath her touch now. She
dragged her hand up his shoulder,
sinking down against the curve of his
neck and stepped even closer, leaving a
hairsbreadth distance separating them.
Distance that she thought should be
diminished in due time.
"You know I've forgiven you for that,"
she said, carding her fingers through his
blond hair and waiting for him to ease
into her touch. He did eventually,
fractionally, but it was enough.
"You didn't have a choice then. To stop
her would've meant certain death for
yourself, and honestly, even if I hated
you then, I would've been devastated if
you died."
He opened his eyes slowly and stared at
her.
"Sometimes," he started quietly, "I don't
know how you can stand looking at me,
or even stand breathing the same air as
me."
She smiled. "Easy. Because I love you;
and that's something even easier than
breathing."
His gaze darkened into something
inexplicable, unreadable; and then his
lips were on hers, consuming and
feverish and intoxicating, punctuated
nips and sucks on her bottom lip that
demanded she ease up for him. She did,
and then his tongue was sweeping into
her mouth as he dragged his hands up to
tangle in her brown locks, angling her
head so that he could kiss her deeply, so
deeply that she couldn't stop the faint
whimper that escaped her mouth and
rolled into his. He was different this
time, more uninhibited, less controlled –
and she felt a delicious thrill run down
her spine when he absentmindedly
trailed one hand down her neck, his
fingers sliding wickedly beneath against
the thin strap of her top. And then his
mouth was right where his fingers were,
teeth nipping daringly on her skin before
his tongue darted out to soothe the sting.
He turned his lips to her collarbone,
sponging an open-mouthed kiss at the
hollow of her neck, before shifting
lower to where her phials dangled
against her chest.
Hermione sank her fingers into his hair
as he reached up, fingers brushing
against the underside of her breast
through the fabric of her shirt. She let out
a throaty moan at the sensations his mere
touch evoked – imagine what he could
do with his lips – but the sound seemed
to effectively snap Draco out of his
trance, and he hastily dragged himself
away.

"Hermione," he shut his eyes briefly

before opening them again, and there
was nothing but apology written on his
face. "I didn't mean to – you have to
understand that I'm – "
She smiled. "I know."
" – there's just, fuck, there's just too
much blood on my hands – "
"I know."
" – I mean, it's there and now my Mark is
still active – "
"I know," she reached up to brush her
thumbs briefly against his cheeks.
"In spite of, remember? I do want you,
regardless." His gaze darkened and he
swallowed thickly.
"What?"
A teasing grin curled her lips and she
pulled back, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"I thought I made myself pretty obvious a
long time ago. How did you not know
that? I thought you were supposed to be
clever – "
His lips were crashing back onto hers
before she could even finish the
sentence, and then he was resuming the
feverish, passionate pace, as if the past
minute hadn't transpired at all, as if he
hadn't let his fears get the better of him.
Hermione let out a languid sigh as she
sank back against him, meeting his kisses
with equal fervor and feeling a thrill of
delight when he groaned against her lips.
Merlin, she wanted him with a
desperation that was staggering, and
somewhere in her subconscious, she
tried to find an appropriate label for
exactly how much she did, but she found
nothing.
"Evidently, you're far more brilliant than
I am," he mumbled, in response to her
earlier statement, his hands gripping her
waist firmly as he tugged her flush
against him. She could feel the hard
length of him trapped between them, felt
herself wantonly, instinctively grind her
hips against his, felt him push back
aggressively, a friction that was the
perfect mirror of the way they'd been all
these years.
Boldly, she slid her hands beneath his
shirt, and then he was tugging it off
swiftly, discarding it over his shoulder
without a second thought. His skin was
slick and fiery to the touch, and she
dragged her fingertips experimentally
along the planes of his chest. She paused
when she reached the two Sectumsempra
scars on his chest, one faded and the
other still fresh. The curves were
intertwining, and she thought of them as
runes on his skin, beautiful and tempered
and impossible to decipher – enigmas
just like Draco himself.
She leaned forward to place several
strategic kisses across his chest, tracing
the lines of his scars with her lips and
tongue, and smiled when his head
dropped against her shoulder. "Yeah," he
groaned, his voice husky in a way that
made her shiver, "definitely brilliant."
"Actually," she countered, a teasing
smile playing on her lips, "when it
comes to bedroom activities, I'm
depending on your expertise to carry
through. I mean, all I have are books and
Pansy's very wise advice, but other than
that I'm clueless. Very eager to
experiment, though," she added
wickedly, even though her breath caught
when he leaned forward to nip at a
sensitive spot on her neck.
"Granger, I fucking swear, your mouth
runs on autopilot."
She laughed, her eyes twinkling in the
dark. "So let's see, if my mouth can run
on autopilot, what can your mouth do – "
She began to laugh, but he swallowed
the sound whole when he crashed his
lips to hers again, aggressively pushing
her back against the wall, his arms
framing her face as he kissed her
thoroughly, so thoroughly she could
hardly breathe. His hand slid down,
looping around the back of her knee and
lifting her leg so that she had it wrapped
around his lean waist, before doing the
same to her other leg. Somewhere in the
haziest recesses of her mind, she slowly
registered that he was leading them out
of the bathroom.

"I'm showing you," he murmured,

sponging kisses lower, lower, lower, his
mouth on the dip between her breasts, all
the while setting her on the edge of his
desk, keeping a firm grip on her hips.
"Aren't I?"
He pulled back to glance at her, fingers
tethering on the edge of her shirt – as if
he needed her permission, and Hermione
shyly, but without any hesitation on her
part, pulled it over her head. She wasn't
wearing a bra, and she reveled in the
way his eyes impossibly darkened even
further, the way his breath seemed to
catch and the way his fingers tentatively
skimmed the smooth expanse of her
abdomen before sliding up.
He glossed his fingertips across the hard
peaks of her breasts, and she
automatically reached for him, dragging
him close so that she could latch her
mouth on his. The kiss was brief,
because his mouth was soon replacing
his fingers, sucking and nipping with
gentle fervor, and she was suddenly
finding it impossible to breathe. She kept
her hands active, first sinking into his
hair as she held him close and breathed
out his name shakily, before sliding
down his chest and feeling his chest
rumble as a soft groan ripped itself from
his throat, then following the trail of hair
leading into the waistband of his
sweatpants.
The moment she palmed his erection
through his pants, it seemed as though
something had snapped within him, and
then he wasn't slow or hesitant anymore.
He caught her wrists tightly, restraining
them down to her sides, before snaking
his arms around her waist, dragging her
off the table. Her legs automatically
curled round him, and she kissed him
bruisingly, wrenching muffled groans
from his throat when she sucked on his
tongue.
He eased her down onto the bed, casting
wordless muffling charms on the room
before reaching for the wand on the
bedside table and casting a silent
contraceptive spell on her. She quirked
her eyebrow inquisitively and grinned at
him.
"Had a lot of practice with that spell?"
He faltered, and her grin widened.
"Not a surprise, I mean, you did have a
lot of slags – "
"You know that none of them can ever
compare to you – "
"That's good," she eased the frown on
his forehead with her fingertips and
laughed. "Just make sure you put all
those years of practice to good use."
"Is that a challenge, Granger?"
Hermione's eyes lit and she propped
herself up on her elbows, biting her lip
thoughtfully.
"We begin with zero to zero, Gryffindor
to Slytherin – "
"I can't fucking believe we're keeping
score in the bedroom."
" – I get fifty because, well, I'm a
novice. And you get ten for your lovely
performance earlier with your mouth – "
He shook his head in mirth. "Only ten?"
He dragged his head up to kiss her hard,
thumbs brushing against her waist in a
sweeping motion that made her feel like
a piece of beautiful canvas to be painted
on. Her breath caught then.
"Shame."
"Keep it together, Malfoy, you're lagging
–"
But the rest of her sentence lodged in her
throat when he ground his hips
demandingly against hers, the feel of his
hot, hard length creating a most delicious
friction against her core. He slid his
palms down even lower, sliding his
fingers under the fabric to graze her hips,
and then pulled off her shorts and
knickers in a swift movement that she
could barely register. And then his
fingers were sliding into her and his
mouth was by her ear as he hissed,
"you're so fucking wet," in a way that
made her teeth clamp down on his
shoulder, his thumb and two fingers
sweeping in a delicious, mind-numbing
pattern.
Then his tongue was replacing his
fingers, and the air was kicked out of her
lungs indefinitely – yes, loving him was
definitely easier than breathing – as her
fingers sank into his hair and she let out
arbitrary gasps of pleasure when his lips
and tongue met the right spots again and
again and again.
"How many to Slytherin?" He mumbled
against her, sounding rather amused
when she tightened her grip on his
shoulder.
"Fifty." She honestly didn't know how
she managed to stammer out the words in
her incoherent state. "Fifty to Slytherin."
He laughed and then groaned when she
gripped him tighter against her. It didn't
take long before bursts of pleasure
exploded behind her shut eyelids, her
fingers digging into his shoulder blades
as she rasped his name, struggling to
drag the oxygen back into her lungs.
He had pulled back fractionally from her
by then, and he was watching her almost
patiently, but his eyes were molten
silver, hot and opaque when she looked
up at him. "Fine," she smiled weakly,
dragging him up so that she could kiss
him, letting out a soft moan when she
tasted herself on his tongue, "hundred to
Slytherin."
"Naturally. Slytherin always trumps
Gryffindor."
But his breath caught when she slipped
her fingers under his pants, and he
reached down to pull off the rest of his
clothes without a second thought. Her
hands were curious and tentative as she
wrapped her fingers around his length,
and then she experimentally pumped him
several times, feeling a shudder rush
through her when his head dropped to
her shoulder and he swore under his
breath.
His fingers were dragging her away
before he could lose what little control
he had of himself, and he positioned
himself appropriately, then his voice
was husky and rough as he murmured
into her ear, "this might hurt."
"Of the good kind," she whispered back,
"the Cruciatus was worse. So was losing
you for the past three years. In a war like
this, this is the best kind of hurt
possible."
She felt him pause; his heavy breaths
against her skin as he leaned down to
kiss her, gently, delicately, before finally
entering her. The pain was a welcoming
sting, and she automatically clamped her
teeth down on his shoulder, hooking her
arms around his neck. He hissed out as
she dragged him in, clenching his jaw
and keeping the arch of his spine taut
until she slowly grazed her fingers
across his cheek, shifting her legs to
draw him in deeper.
Each of his strokes were gentle but
demanding, and she found herself
responding to him, her fingers
unconsciously sliding across the breadth
of his shoulders to indent curved marks
on his skin. She started to slip again, as
he leaned down to sponge arbitrary
kisses across her skin; and when his
eyes caught a glimpse of the scar on her
arm, he shifted his head to brush his lips
over the patch of skin. "I'm sorry," she
heard him say.
"I love you," she whispered back,
whimpering when he captured her lips
again, thrusting into her with powerful,
purposeful strokes.
Then she was unravelling around him,
her breaths escaping in punctuated
moans and gasps, her legs clamping
tightly around his waist, fingers digging
into his skin. Her mind, of course, went
in overdrive – Hermione's mind was
never empty; it raced instead, with his
name and it was Draco, Draco, Draco
and nothing else.
He watched her with hooded eyes,
tethering at last fray of his self-control
and let out a staggered breath when she
reached up to kiss him. "Two hundred to
Gryffindor," he mumbled, as she slid her
fingers through his hair.
"You're beautiful."
Then he was bringing himself to his own
finish, and she was watching him now.
Letting her eyes flutter shut was so easy
in the aftermath, but Hermione found
herself utterly fascinated by him, his
blonde hair falling into his eyes as he
absentmindedly freckled kisses on her
lips, the way he whispered her name
again and again on her skin as he finally
released himself inside her.
She reached up to sponge kisses down
the bridge of his nose.
"Three hundred to Slyther – "
But his lips on hers effectively shut her
up, and then he drew away, dropping his
forehead down on hers. He looked
entirely spent and relaxed now, the least
tensed she'd ever seen him since she first
met him months ago.
"Call it even?" He murmured at last,
tucking an errant curl behind her ear.
The way he looked at her made her catch
her breath, and her lips stretched up in a
wide smile. "I adore you."
47 | incendio

47
i ncendi o
Conjures fire.

Pansy's eyes were narrowed with thinly-

veiled interest when Hermione came
into the kitchen the next morning. Luna
was in there cooking breakfast, and
Hermione greeted them pleasantly
before slipping into the chair opposite
Pansy.
It took exactly five seconds for Pansy to
come to a conclusion. "You had sex last
night, didn't you?" The Slytherin witch
asked bluntly, her lips curling up in a
wicked smirk.
Hermione's mouth fell open. "How did
you - "
"You're wearing his shirt - okay, you
always wear his shirts, but there's also
the fact that you won't stop smiling and
you positively reek of the afterglow of
sex."
Luna turned to scrape scrambled eggs
onto a plate, setting the pan back down
on the stove as she surveyed Hermione
curiously. "It's an afterglow? I always
thought it was an aura."
"It's an afterglow, alright. So, Red, how
was he?"
Hermione promptly buried her face in
her hands. "Oh, sweet Merlin."
"That good, huh?"
"What's good?" And now Ginny was
striding into the kitchen, running an
effortless hand through her red hair. She
dragged out the chair next to Hermione
and sat down, reaching over to pour
herself a mug of tea.
Pansy grinned at Hermione. "Draco
Malfoy, apparently."
Ginny's eyes gleamed as she studied her
friend for a moment, chuckling at her
flushed cheeks and thoroughly mortified
expression. "Well, this should be
interesting. How is he, really?"
Hermione's mouth fell open in abject
horror and she simply laughed. "Come
on, Hermione, don't you remember the
rumours about Draco Malfoy - Slytherin
prince?"
"In Ravenclaw, the nickname for him
was the Slytherin snake," Luna
commented mildly.
"And there's a reason why he's called a
snake. I mean, I've heard that tongue is
wicked - and I'm not just talking about
what he says," Ginny added, earning a
rich chuckle from Pansy. "Ignore all
those sodding house rivalry. On the
surface, everyone was against Slytherin
house, but I've heard rumours, and
apparently, some of the best shags were
the boys from Slytherin."
"That," Pansy pointed at Ginny, a
pleased look on her face, "is actually
very true."
"You would know, wouldn't you?"
Ginny's straightforward matter hardly
seemed to faze Pansy, who simply
winked and speared a bit of scrambled
eggs with her fork. Hermione's
eyebrows knit together faintly. "Didn't
you date Draco in the past?" She asked
Pansy curiously, her lips curling into a
smile when she saw her friend freeze
momentarily. "Why don't you tell us how
he was?"
"Okay, first of all," Pansy started,
enunciating her words with a pointed jab
in Hermione's direction, "we did not
date. We had a fling for a couple of
months. Meaningless, stupid and
honestly, if I could Obliviate that portion
of my life, I would. Secondly, I actually
do believe that it makes a huge
difference when it's with someone you
love. Draco loves you," she smiled at
Hermione softly, "ergo, I believe it
would be a far better for you."
Ginny hummed in agreement. "Exactly.
So now, put us all out of our misery and
tell us about how Draco Malfoy is in the
sack - "
"Ginerva Weasley, don't you dare finish
that bloody sentence!"
A familiar voice made them all turn,
only to see Ron standing by the doorway,
an appalled expression on his face.
Harry was beside him, but he seemed far
more amused than anything, going over
to peck Ginny briefly on the cheek and
settling down on the chair beside her.
"Oh, lighten up, Ronald," Ginny rolled
her eyes. "I've heard you, Seamus, Dean
and Neville talk about the Ravenclaw
girls in a way that makes me want to
claw my eyes out. Yes, they even talk
about you, Luna," she said, when the
blonde witch turned to look at her
quizzically.
Luna cheeks reddened. Ron, on the other
hand, looked like he wanted to dig a
hole and bury himself in it forever.
Pansy's eyes gleamed. "Ravenclaw,
really, Weasley? Because I talked to
Tracey the other day; and she had some
very interesting things to tell me. For a
moment there I thought you were
beginning to have a thing for Slytherins."
"Not for a relationship," Harry laughed.
"More for the shagging. Right, Ron?"
"Thanks, mate." Ron deadpanned, but his
gaze had flickered over to Pansy, a
probing question in his eyes, and she
immediately caught it.
"Oh, don't fret, Weasley," she said.
"Tracey had nothing but praises for you.
Very kind, very giving in bed, though she
did think you had some brushing up to do
on your tongue-work."
"Maybe you should ask Malfoy to give
you some pointers," Ginny suggested
mockingly.
Ron looked disgusted. "I would never
ask the Ferret for pointers on how to
shag - "
"Don't worry, I wouldn't waste shagging
tips on you, Weasel," Draco's amused
drawl sliced through the conversation.
He strode in with Blaise in tow, a lazy
smirk on his face as he braced his arms
on the back of Hermione's chair. Luna
tossed him an apple and he caught it,
deftly sinking his teeth into the fruit and
biting off a generous chunk before
handing the rest to Hermione, who
eagerly took it.
"Where's 'Dromeda?" He asked her
quietly, as the conversation around them
ensued when Ginny continued to mock
Ron about his skills in the bedroom, or
lack thereof. "And Teddy?"
"Teddy's with Grus. And 'Dromeda went
to brew the potion with Slughorn."
"Here's hoping it works," Draco's
mumbled, but he felt his breath catch
when Hermione tilted her head to kiss
him briefly, her lips sliding against his
with perfect familiarity. In his peripheral
vision, he saw Harry's disgusted face as
he noticed them, and Draco was casting
a wandless spell on Harry before he
could even blink. "Obscuro."
"Very mature, Malfoy." Harry grumbled,
dragging off the magical blindfold that
wrapped around his head to temporarily
block off his vision.
Draco smirked. "Then stop staring,
Potter."
Breakfast proceeded in its usual fashion
when Neville arrived several minutes
later. Luna and Blaise whipped up a
breakfast that was consumed equally as
quickly by the others. Harry, Ron and
Neville, in particular, ate like they hadn't
seen food in days, and Hermione had to
smack Ron on the back when he began to
choke.
Moments later, the sound of Theo's voice
distracted the group from the easy-going
conversation that had preceded at the
table. Hermione followed Draco's gaze
to where Theo was yawning lazily and
dragging a tired hand through his tousled
hair, heading down the stairs slowly.
With the Patil twins in tow.
A startled, horrified silence descended
upon the table, with the exception of the
other Slytherins, who seemed to have
predicted this, Luna, who was calm in
just about every situation and Hermione,
who tried to straighten her face and
prevent herself from laughing, especially
when she saw the look of abject horror
on Neville's face.
"Parvati?" Neville was the first to break
the silence, his eyebrows shooting up
high on his forehead as he stared at them
in disbelief. "Padma?"
The twins looked thoroughly
embarrassed as they greeted the group
shyly, and then Theo was ushering them
out of the door. "We should do this again
sometime, ladies," he was saying
suavely, before closing the door and
heading into the kitchen with a smug grin
on his face. But his grin faltered as he
noticed the appalled looks in the kitchen
and he frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," Blaise said mildly, "though it
seems you haven't left your ménage à
trois days behind."
"They were twins!" Theo pointed out, as
though that were explanation enough.
"Twins!"
"We can see that." Draco was the only
one still calmly eating amidst the stunned
silence. "Given your thirty-second
world-record, I assume you now lasted
for sixty-seconds since there were two
of them?"
A bubble of laughter escaped from
Hermione's lips, which she hastily tried
to stifle when Theo narrowed his eyes at
her. "No one's judging, Theo," she said
warmly.
"No, we are definitely judging," Ron
looked almost green in the face. "What
the hell? How did you get both the Patil
twins to do - nevermind, I really don't
want to know."
"It's actually not much of a surprise,"
Luna said in amusement. "In sixth year,
Cormac tried to get the both of them to
date him too."
"But it's Cormac. Everybody knows that
guy's sexual drive runs so rampant he'd
hump trees."
"Obviously, you've never met Theo,"
Pansy grinned, shooting Theo a pointed
look.
Ginny covered her eyes and groaned. "I
am never going to look at them the same
way again. Can we please discuss
strategies for the final battle instead?
Malfoy, what did Shacklebolt say when
he came over to talk to you the other
day?"
Ginny's feeble attempt to switch the
conversation made Draco's lips twitch in
faint amusement. "Several things," he
started slowly, trying to collect his
thoughts, well aware that everyone's
attention was on him now. "One - that the
Order's been recruiting members of the
Rebellion and they've gathered enough to
face off the Dark Lord's army."
Neville stopped him by raising a finger.
"Why do you keep calling him the Dark
Lord? The rest of us call him You-
Know-Who, apart from the four of you."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Sorry, we're not
juveniles. We call him the Dark Lord."
"But you don't serve him anymore - "
"Let's compromise," offered Theo.
"We'll call him the man who breathes
through a vagina - "
"No," Draco practically growled, "don't
fucking ruin sex for me."
"Of course you wouldn't want it ruined
for you," Ginny interjected sweetly,
casting a surreptitious look at Hermione
whose cheeks promptly flamed red.
Draco threw Ginny a frosty glare and
continued. "As I was saying, the bloody
Order intends to attack Hogwarts, which
is basically the Dark Lord's new
headquarters, during a time when the
Dark Lord himself and his top Death-
Eaters are away - in hopes that they can
thin out his army before he returns and
also to free any prisoners in the castle.
Shacklebolt says that they're going to
start from the bridge, enter through the
clock tower courtyard and make their
way in from there."
"So will we be a part of it?" Blaise
asked curiously.
"It's up to the rest of you."
"Well, I'm in," Ron was the first to say,
before turning to Neville, who nodded.
"Harry?"
"Sounds rather reckless," Harry seemed
rather hesitant, pushing up his glasses
further up the bridge of his nose and
turned to Draco. "If You-Know-Who
gets wind of the siege and comes back,
will the Order be expecting Neville to
duel him?"
Draco faltered then, and Hermione
automatically slipped her hand through
his under the table. "Either one of you,"
he acceded, at last, the expression in his
eyes almost guarded. "And yes - I
believe the Order hopes this battle will
be their last."
"What if it isn't? What if we don't win?"
Draco didn't reply. It was a question he
could never find an answer to.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Watching Andromeda remove the curse

from Draco's Dark Mark had to be one
of the most painful things Hermione ever
had to witness. She stood in the kitchen,
watching silently as Andromeda
murmured intricate, complex
incantations under her breath.
Andromeda's wand was poised over the
Dark Mark, and a black wisp of light
slid out from her wand, curling itself
around Draco's arm in a vice-like grip.
The pain was a slow, gradual build up,
and Hermione saw Draco clench his jaw
first, before his nails dug into the table,
then he was biting down on his other arm
to stop himself from screaming. It was as
though something was shifting below his
Dark Mark, rippling beneath the surface
of his skin as the spell slowly ripped it
from him.
Hermione stepped forward instinctively,
but one sharp glance from Andromeda
made her fall back. She couldn't help but
think that the situations were reversed
now. A long time ago, Draco had
watched as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured
her with the Cruciatus. And now, she
was watching as Andromeda removed
the Dark curse on him.
She understood how Draco felt now - it
was the same feeling of utter, complete
helplessness, the kind you were first
waist deep in, and before you knew it,
you were drowning, dragging in oxygen
into your lungs, only to have them filled
with thick water, suffocating.
And so she bit down on her bottom lip,
blinking away the tears that sprung to her
eyes as she watched Draco. His face
was white as a sheet, blonde hair
clinging in damp locks against his
forehead, but he kept his eyes fixed on
her the whole time.
Finally, after what seemed like forever,
Andromeda pulled back and nodded at
Hermione. "Heal him," she directed
calmly, even though her face was pale.
"I'll get the potion."
Hermione didn't waste another second.
Holding her wand over his bleeding
arm, she mumbled the Vulnera Sanentur
spell to heal the gaping wounds, as
Andromeda reached over to lift the phial
of potion to Draco's lips. It took awhile,
and then all that was left were the
sounds of Draco's unsteady breaths as he
trembled in the aftermath.
"I'm going to check up on Teddy,"
Andromeda said quietly to Hermione,
after she had made sure that Draco was
okay. The spell seemed to have worked,
and Draco's Dark Mark was now a
faded scar just like the rest of the
Slytherins'. "Call me if you need
anything."
She turned to leave the kitchen, only to
be stopped by Draco's weary rasp.
"'Dromeda." She glanced at him over her
shoulder and he nodded at her once.
"Thanks."
Her lips curled up in a smile. "You're
welcome."
Then she left, and Draco slowly dragged
himself so that he was sitting, instead of
slumped over the table. Hermione
reached over to brush his hair out of his
eyes, and he shifted, lips pressing briefly
against her wrist. And then he was
looking down at his scar, fingers tracing
lightly over the faint ridges of the Mark.
"I feel clean," he said at last, in a voice
so quiet it was almost inaudible. "For
the first time - I'm not one of them."
She placed her scarred arm next to his,
watching as his fingers slowly slid past
his own arm to trace the uneven letters
on hers, and smiled. "You've never been
one of them, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Keep up, Potter, you're getting sloppy."

Harry scowled at Draco's taunting
remark and wiped the sweat from his
forehead with the edge of his sleeve.
The two had been practicing duelling for
the past hour and a half, upon the Order's
request to train up for the upcoming
battle.
While Shacklebolt had offered proper
amenities and lessons for everyone to
attend as preparation, the four Slytherins
had been more than reluctant to train
with the rest of the Order members, and
ultimately decided it was better if they
trained among themselves. It now
became a common sight to see any of the
ten members of 17-65 practicing
duelling in the garden out front, or in the
backyard of the house.
Hermione was now sitting on the front
porch with Ron, watching as Harry shot
spell after spell at Draco, who deflected
them without even batting an eyelid. In
many ways, she could identify with
Harry - he didn't seem to want to hurt
anyone on purpose, and that weakened
his attacks marginally, even if he was
highly skilled at magic.
Draco, on the other hand, was a veteran
at duelling. She saw it in his stance, the
way he ducked and weaved past spells,
his eyes alert and actions swift. Draco
had always been graceful, even back
during Hogwarts days; and when
duelling, he moved with the agility and
poise of some kind of animal.
Ron seemed to notice this too, and he
nudged Hermione. "If all Death-Eaters
fight like him, I don't think the Order's
going to fair very well."
"He used to be the top Death-Eater,"
Hermione voice was steady, despite the
fact that she did share Ron's concerns.
"He's better than most of them. I'm sure
the Order wouldn't have a problem
handling the less skilled ones."
"Not if the Death-Eaters use Dark
Magic."
Hermione kept silent. Ron was right, and
the Death-Eaters, particularly cruel ones
like Dolohov and Bellatrix, were not
above using any of the Unforgivables.
They thrived on Dark curses and, in that
aspect, proved far more lethal than a
Death-Eater like Draco with a
conscience.
"Don't stay in a fixed position, Potter,"
Draco's calm directions drew Hermione
from her thoughts. She watched as he
sidestepped a hex before sending one
back that Harry barely deflected. "Keep
yourself mobile. Don't use stinging hexes
- Death-Eaters thrive on those and the
Cruciatus because they like toying with
their food. You put them down before
they can do anything to you - "
Harry rolled his eyes and hurled another
hex at Draco. "Stupefy!"
"Don't tell me what you're casting. It
helps if you're surreptitious about it. Try
fighting like a Slytherin for a change."
"Merlin, why're you such a prick even
on the battlefield?"
"It's an all round-the-clock job, Potter,
and do concentrate. I'd hate to kill you
before the Dark Lord does."
Ron sniggered in spite of the insult, and
stood up. "Hey, Malfoy!"
Hermione saw the ploy even before her
friends carried it out. The moment Draco
turned to face Ron, Harry grabbed the
window of opportunity and drew his
wand back to cast a spell at him. Quick
as thought, she directed her wand at him.
"Expelliarmus!" She murmured under
her breath, just as Draco casted a
Protego after seeing Harry's attack in his
peripheral vision.
Harry's wand flew out of his grasp and
into Hermione's, and she folded her arms
across her chest, smiling in satisfaction
as both Harry and Ron looked at her
with dismay, while Draco smirked, an
evident gleam of pride in his eyes as he
watched her.
"'Mione, you ruined it!"
She laughed at Ron's exclamation. "My
apologies - it was instinct. Here, Harry,"
she walked over and handed him his
wand, before casting several healing
spells over the scratches he'd taken from
the duel earlier.
"Thanks." Harry dragged a tired hand
through his hair, slowly heading back to
the porch and sitting down wearily on
the front steps.
Hermione joined him and so did Ron,
each of them sitting on either side of
him. Draco faltered for a moment,
looking almost awkward and reluctant to
join the Golden Trio, but he was quickly
convinced when Hermione held out a
hand to beckon him over.
"Do you think we can win?" Ron asked,
after a prolonged moment of silence.
Harry and Hermione simply had no
response to his question, and so they
were surprised when Draco was the one
to answer. His voice was quiet, his gaze
fixed far ahead, unfocused and distant,
but Hermione had never heard him sound
more determined before.
"We have to."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

She found him several hours before the

beginning of the final battle, sitting on
the window ledge near the Pensieve,
hugging a photo frame to his chest. It
was the one she'd brought back for him
from the Manor, and when he first saw
it, the expression on his face was one
polarised between sadness and joy.
But he was emotionless now, his grey
eyes blank as he stared into the darkness,
only flickering up when she entered the
room. "Are they all here?"
She knew who he was talking about.
While the entire Order and Rebellion
had gathered on the moors near the
Hogwarts castle, Draco had arranged for
the ten members of 17-65 to meet at
Andromeda's house - the one place they
all felt safest during this war.
Safe.
Hermione couldn't help but think that this
word no longer had a definition at a time
like this. "Yes," she went over, sitting
down on the ledge next to him. "They're
in the living room."
Draco was silent for so long she almost
began to think that he hadn't heard her.
Each second seemed to take an infinity
to tick by, and Hermione wished for this
night to be over, if it would ever be
over. There was no knowing how long
this battle would last.
"I'm terrified," Draco said at last, his
voice almost inaudible but she heard him
anyway.
"Me too."
"If we don't win this time round - the
war may never end."
"I know."
His lips quirked up in a brief smirk.
"This would be a good time to use that
Gryffindor optimism of yours to cheer
me up, Granger."
She laughed at his sardonic tone, and
slid her fingers through his, leaning her
head against his shoulder. "This would
be a good time to have faith."
She felt his lips brush gently against her
forehead as he fell silent. And all she
could register was the even sounds of
their breathing mingling in the terrifying
silence.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The grounds of Hogwarts were silent as

a grave that night.
In the deepest recesses of her memories,
Hermione vaguely recalled a glowing,
cheerful castle, alive with the hum of
chatter and laughter. But that was a long
time ago. All that was left now was a
decrepit, ruined castle, enveloped in
darkness of the most despairing,
miserable kind, with a flock of
dementors circling the sky overheard.
She clutched Draco tightly as he
manoeuvred them towards the castle on
his broom, with the rest of 17-65
following behind them. Below, the
Order was making their way across the
bridge in hundreds, heading for the
Clock Tower, where they would begin
their attack.
Draco, on the other hand, was more
concerned with safeguarding the place,
keeping the battle within the grounds and
killing off the Death-Eaters in Hogwarts
before Voldemort was alerted to the fact
that the castle was under siege and
brought the rest of his army over.
Hermione soon found herself in one of
the dark hallways where Draco dropped
her off. His silver eyes were glinted
edges in the dark, but beyond the
determined, calm façade, she could see
that he was terrified. So was she.
And so she held him back before he
could leave, reaching up to kiss him. Her
lips moulded against his in a yearning
sort of desperation as she threaded her
fingers through his hair. He kissed her
back equally as frantically, arms belting
tightly around her waist as though he
wished to whisk her away to some place
safe.
His lips wrenched away from her mouth
and trailed past her jaw, to a sensitive
spot beneath her ear, his breaths harsh
and unsteady. "I love you," he
whispered, and she felt her chest tighten
at his words, her fingers dragging down
to his shirt to grasp the fabric tightly.
"You know that, right?"
"Never doubted it."
"Because of who you are and in spite of
who you are," he added, almost absent-
mindedly.
Her lips were curving up in a fond smile
then, amidst the tremendous brevity of
the situation they were in, and she slid
her palm up his cheek, her brown eyes
locking on his silver ones. "Do you
always have to one-up me, Malfoy?"
"Always, Granger."
He kissed her again, pulling back far too
soon for her liking, and then he was
climbing back on his broom, vanishing
into the darkness.
Hermione felt the loss as soon as he was
out of sight, an empty, devastating
feeling weighing down on her. Her
fingers automatically grasped for the
phials hanging around her neck, while
her other hand reached for the Cloak of
Invisibility in her satchel. She pulled it
on and made her way slowly up to the
Astronomy tower, where Harry and Ron
were waiting.
The two of them were gazing out the
open window, but turned when they
heard her footsteps. Ron grinned. "Had a
good snogging session with the ferret?"
She rolled her eyes, but there was no
denying it, or the flush that rose to her
cheeks. "None of your business," she
mumbled, trailing off as she glanced
round at the place. It looked vaguely
familiar, and she remembered having
climbed this tower before. Several
times, perhaps.
She wondered if she could see the
constellation Draco from here.
"I remember the last time I was here,"
said Harry, when she sidled up to him.
His voice was calm, even though there
was a flicker of pain in his eyes.
"Malfoy was about to kill Dumbledore,
the rest of the other Death-Eaters were
there. And I couldn't do a thing because
I'd been hit with a Petrificus. And then I
was watching Snape step in with the
killing curse, and Dumbledore was
falling off this bloody tower."
"You couldn't do a thing, mate," Ron said
now, as Hermione rubbed comforting
circles on Harry's back. "You've seen
Snape's memories. You know that
Dumbledore was going to die sooner or
later."
Harry let out a hum of agreement, his
eyes still trailed on the crowd of people
making their way across the bridge.
"This is - different," he murmured. "The
first time we fought, there was this
flicker of hope and I felt like we were
fighting to win. I have no idea what
we're fighting for this time. I just hope
all of us make it out alive."
His words made Hermione's chest
tighten painfully. "We're fighting to
survive, then," she replied. "We're
fighting to be safe." She saw the last of
the crowd cross the bridge and turned to
Harry. "They're ready."
"Yeah." Ron's posture was rigid now.
"It's your call, Harry."
Harry stepped back, raising his wand out
to the open sky overhead. Hermione and
Ron did the same, their wands poised to
defend. Hermione could feel her heart
thundering in her ears, knowing that the
moment Harry cast the shield around the
castle, there would be nothing but a
bloodbath from here on out.
"Ready?" He glanced at the other two.
They nodded, and he took a deep breath.
"Protego Maxima," he said, at the same
time as Ron said, "Fianto Duri," and
Hermione said, "Repello Inimicum".
A large protective barrier drew itself
around the entire outskirts of the castle,
an impregnable fortress that would
disintegrate anyone who came close to
it; a shield only detectable by the faint
hum of magic if one strained their ears to
hear it.
And then the air was quiet and still as
the three of them waited for the storm to
come.
48 | avada

48
avadakedavr a
Instantaneous death.

How do you fight a war knowing you've

already lost once?
Hermione Granger didn't know the
answer to that.
But she did know that she couldn't risk
losing anything more. The battle had
begun in the Quad next to the Clock
Tower, starting with Shacklebolt casting
the first spell as a Death-Eater emerged
from the shadows.
Tuning her ears out to the sounds of
screaming and hexing below, she quickly
took out the Cloak of Invisibility from
her satchel and draped it over herself.
She knew she had to head to the Grand
Staircase as per Draco's orders, sealing
up the windows with protective charms
along the way and finding prisoners
locked up in any of the rooms.
But then two people slid under the Cloak
next to her, and she scowled at the
redhead wizard on the left and the black-
haired one on her right. "What are you
boys doing?"
"Oh, come on, 'Mione," Ron's voice was
surprisingly light-hearted despite the
grave situation. He grinned, but she
noticed the tension in his eyes and
realised that he was just trying to diffuse
the terrifying atmosphere surrounding
them. "We'll all be safe under this
Cloak."
Harry chuckled in agreement. "Besides,
it'll be like old times."
She rolled her eyes and slung her arms
round their shoulders. The three of them
made their way awkwardly down the
stairs of the astronomy tower, not
without the occasional bump and
accidental stepping on each other's toes
along the way.
After Ron had clumsily bumped against
the railing for the third time, he swore
under his breath. "Merlin, this bloody
Cloak is far too small for the three of
us."
"It's only big enough for two people, at
most," Hermione explained.
"Just out of curiosity," Harry started,
almost uncertainly, staring at her with
suspicion in his eyes. "When you say
'big enough for two people', are you
implying something along the lines of
you shagging Malfoy under this Cloak?"
Hermoine hadn't, but she couldn't help
the smirk that curved her face. "Well..."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Ron hastily
extricated himself from the Cloak and
Harry followed suit, the both of them
practically running away from her down
the hallway.
Hermione chuckled as she watched them
go. The Cloak ultimately belonged to
Harry and she had kept it in its best
condition so she could return it to him
when the war was over. But she wasn't
going to rectify what Ron and Harry had
evidently misinterpreted. The Cloak was
hers for the time being and she had a job
to do.
Hiding in a tiny alcove, she took out the
Marauder's Map from her satchel and
used it to navigate her way towards the
Grand Staircase. Unlike the others, who
had a firm grasp of the school, her
memories of this place were convoluted
and she needed the Map. Pansy and
Blaise were already at the grand
staircase, while the rest were making
their way towards the meeting place
slowly from different directions. Theo
and Luna were slowly but surely making
their way there too. Ginny's footsteps on
the Map were quick, and so were
Neville's - they were evidently on
brooms. And Draco was -
Where was Draco?
Skimming past the countless of names on
the Map, she tried to locate him,
ignoring the pounding of blood rushing
in her ears. She soon saw his name
somewhere in the Middle Courtyard, but
the relief that surged through her was
quickly replaced with an ominous
feeling when she noticed how he was
stationary in a singular spot.
Her first thought was to apparate over,
but Draco had told her that Hogwarts
had anti-apparition and disapparition
wards. Without a second thought, she
turned on her heels and ran towards him,
but there was still a long way more to
go. The blood surging through her veins
was like a toxic, addictive form of
adrenaline that came only in the face of
danger, and there was only one thought
that pounded through her mind.
Save Draco.
She found the solution several hallways
down. Glancing out, she noticed a
Death-Eater flying past on his broom and
didn't hesitate to train her wand on him.
"Everte Statum!" The Death-Eater was
flung off his broom, and she held out her
other hand. "Accio broom."
Then she was climbing on, fastening the
Cloak tightly around her and easing
forward on the broom. It jolted with a
dangerous lurch, and Hermione bit her
lip to keep from screaming before
kicking off. She wasn't at all adept at
flying, and she made several frightening
swerves as she navigated her way
towards the Middle Courtyard.
It wasn't until she jumped off the broom
and rushed into the clearing when she
realised what had happened to Draco.
He was twisting and struggling on the
floor as a flock of Dementors attacked
him, swooping down and slowly sucking
the very life out of him.
Hermione quickly threw the Cloak off
herself, provoking the Dementors to fly
towards her instead. They were several
feet away when she shut her eyes tight
and summoned the happiest memory she
could think of - Draco, always Draco -
and held her wand out.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Draco lifted his head weakly in her
direction, watching the Dementors
disperse every which way as a
magnificent Patronus in the shape of a
dragon protected the both of them. Then
her face crumpled in relief as she rushed
towards him, just in time for Draco to
notice a Death-Eater shadow her, his
wand trained on her lithe figure.
The curse that teased his tongue was an
Avada, but he barely caught it and shot
the next one he could think of.
"Confringo!"
Hermione's shocked face was almost
comical as she saw the spell zip towards
her, only to miss her by mere inches and
blast the Death-Eater behind her in a
fiery explosion. She quickly gathered her
wits about her, sinking down to her
knees and pulling Draco up, the sudden
realisation that she had just saved his
life crashing down equally as hard as the
realisation that he had saved hers
simultaneously.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
It wasn't long before the two found their
way back. The rest of 17-65 were
standing around in a safe corner near the
Grand Staircase, where Blaise was
doing his best to calm Harry and Ron,
who looked thoroughly distressed.
"We should never have left her in the
hallway!" Ron was saying, as Hermione
headed towards them with Draco, well-
hidden under Disillusionment charms.
Ron was running frantic fingers through
his hair, while Harry kept pushing his
glasses up his nose in evident anxiety.
"Who knows where she is now?"
"Missed me, Weasel?" Draco drawled,
slowly removing the Disillusionment
charms on himself and Hermione. Ginny
rushed over to envelope Hermione in a
fierce hug.
Neville's eyes were wide. "Malfoy?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it is I - the
Dark Lord."
The tension immediately skyrocketed at
his statement; Hermione and the three
other Slytherins exchanging amused
glances, until Neville recovered with a
heavy glare directed at Draco. "That's
not funny, Malfoy!"
Draco simply smirked, but the grin
quickly faded when he heard a sudden
explosion from the rooftop of the tower.
"They're here," he said quietly, feeling
Hermione instinctively sidle closer to
him. The others were staring at him with
expectant looks on their faces. "Stand
ground here. Keep them out, or put them
down. Don't let them in the Great Hall.
McGonagall says that the Order's setting
up an infirmary in there, and we can't let
any Death-Eater in - "
His words were abruptly cut off when
Theo, whose sharp senses detected
things before any of them could,
suddenly whirled around. "Expulso!"
His spell narrowly missed a Death-Eater
who had just entered, but more came in
after him. And then Draco was pushing
the others out of the way as Luna joined
in alongside Theo, while Blaise
protected the others with a shield.
"Let's go! Potter," Draco grabbed onto
Harry and climbed on his broom. "Get
me up there."
"What? Why - "
"Just go!"
Harry swerved past a spell and took off,
swiftly flying them to the highest point of
the stairs. Draco had just got off the
broom when a tremendous explosion
blasted off the roof of the stairs, and
Harry was casting a powerful shield to
protect them from the falling debris.
They barely had time to recover when
the stairs suddenly lurched forward, and
the two of them dropped to their knees to
regain their balance.
"What the hell?" Harry gaped as the
stairs below them began moving as well,
at arbitrary speeds and at irregular
times. During the last battle, these stairs
had been motionless. "Who activated the
stairs?"
"It's a tactic, Potter," Draco didn't look
surprised at all, his eyes alert as he
watched the shattered roof closely. "Best
way to kill your opponent is to let them
plummet to their deaths on the moving
stairs."
"And you knew about this?"
"Why else did I arrange for us to fight in
the Grand Staircase?" Draco returned.
"Get Ginny, do an aerial sweep with her.
I'll fend them off from here."
Harry agreed and took off, leaving
Draco on the moving stairs. He climbed
up, landing neatly on the seventh floor
just as that particular flight of stairs
jerked away from the platform and spun
round to another landing. It was mere
seconds before the first Death-Eater
came swooping through the shattered
roof, aiming a hex at Draco.
"Malfoy!" It was Augustus Rockwood,
and he grinned as Draco narrowly
dodged the spell. "The Dark Lord will
be pleased to see you."
"Give the Dark Lord my regards," Draco
fired back calmly, side-stepping the next
spell and blocking the one that followed.
He was keeping one eye on the moving
stairs, wondering how he could make
use of it to his advantage. "Tell him
Draco Malfoy says hi. And to hit me up
for fucking tea and crumpets when he's
not busy massacring the entire Wizarding
world."
"I'd much rather kill you first then relay
any of your asinine messages. There's a
bounty on your head, you know?"
"Really?" Draco feigned great interest,
but he froze when he noticed several
other Death-Eaters heading his way on
their brooms. "What's my bounty? It had
better be higher than saint Potter's.
Expelliarmus."
Rockwood's wand flew out from his
hand. With an angry roar, the Death-
Eater flew straight towards Draco to
physically knock him over, but Draco
jumped off the ledge just as the stairs
swivelled back to the platform. He put
Rockwood down with a blasting curse,
before running down the steps to the
sixth floor, bracing himself for the next
series of attacks.
His actions weren't missed by
Hermione, who had heard the roof
explode with a force that shook the
entire tower. She grabbed onto Ron, who
was busy fending off several Death-
Eaters alongside Pansy and Blaise. "Get
me up there," she told him, pointing
skywards.
His eyes widened when he noticed the
Death-Eaters flying in from the roof, and
nodded. Hermione climbed onto the
broom after him, and the two took off.
Ron deposited her on the fifth floor,
before heading back down to help
Neville below. Hermione waited for the
staircase that Draco was on, jumping on
it when it swung past her platform,
before scaling the last few steps so that
she was beside him and casting a spell.
"Protego Maxima!"
Her shield blocked the next Dark spell
that the Death-Eater shot at them, while
Draco didn't waste a second hurling one
back the moment her shield was down.
His spell hit the Death-Eater square on
his chest, and Draco shot a brief grin
over his shoulder at her. "Here to save
me again, Granger?"
"Naturally." She winked at him, before
holding up her wand. "Avis."
"Oppugno." The flock of conjured birds
that streamed out from Hermione's wand
were promptly redirected by Draco to
attack the nearest Death-Eater.
She smiled, pleased by his perfect
synchronicity with her, and stayed by his
side to fight. His duelling style was of a
more offensive kind, a variation of
blasting curses fused with stinging spells
that were meant to cripple their enemies.
Hers, on the other hand, was defensive
by nature, and the impenetrable shields
she cast saved the both of them more
than once, giving Draco the window of
opportunity to recover and hex their
enemies back.
The rest of the team had since separated,
and Hermione glanced down several
times to note that each of them had taken
a single floor. She and Draco fought off
Death-Eaters on the sixth and seventh,
while Blaise was one floor below them,
followed by Pansy on fourth, Theo on
third, and Luna on second. Harry and
Ginny were on their brooms,
occasionally weaving between the
moving stairs to help with the duelling,
while Ron and Neville were holding
their ground on the first floor, bravely
fending off any Death-Eaters that entered
the tower.
A shout from below soon dragged
Hermione's attention away, and she spun
round to see Blaise being knocked off
his balance by a Death-Eater, followed
by Pansy's shrill scream as she rushed to
save her boyfriend, who was now
dangling on the ledge.
Draco was nudging Hermione in the next
instant. "Help them," he told her, just as
he blasted another Death-Eater off the
stairs.
She didn't need to be told twice. Leaning
over the side of the stairs, she directed
her wand at Blaise. "Carpe Retractum."
A magical rope slid out from her wand,
spiralling several feet down to latch
onto Blaise's waist. Pansy slowly pulled
him up with the help of Theo, who had
rushed over to protect them the moment
he saw Blaise topple off the stairs, and
Hermione waited until Blaise had been
lifted to safety before letting go of the
rope.
She turned back to Draco, feeling a
surge of pain in her chest when she took
in his bruised features - he'd taken
several hits on her behalf in order to
protect her, and resumed fighting. On and
on and on, until she felt her eyes burn
with the effort of keeping them peeled
for any wayward spells. Her throat was
dry and her heart had hammered in her
chest for so long it was a wonder she
hadn't exploded with the effort.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she
saw a corporeal Patronus in the form of
a stag gallop towards Draco. Draco
pulled Hermione down, the two ducking
behind the side of the stairs as the stag
slowed in front of them.
"Incoming fiendfyre!" The distorted
voice from the stag sounded remarkably
like Harry's. "Sweeping in from the
Quad!"
"Fuck," Draco swore, vanishing the stag
with a wave of his wand. "Time to go."
Hermione nodded breathlessly and
rushed down the stairs, leaping onto the
platform and ducking behind the balcony,
just as Draco amplified his voice to call
for a retreat. They were never going to
make it, she realised, so when the next
flight of stairs locked onto the sixth floor
platform, she stepped on and directed
her wand at the stairs.
"Glisseo!"
The stairs flattened to a slide at her feet
and she slid down, tumbling ungracefully
onto the floor below next to Blaise, who
was also on the same flight of stairs as
she was. "Good thinking, Red," he
rasped, brushing the blood from the
corner of his mouth and grabbing her
hand. "Come on!"
He dragged her onto the next moving
stairs before they missed it, heading
down each floor with minimal
difficulties this time as Hermione cast
the same spell on the stairs, over and
over, hurrying a frazzled Pansy along the
way and picking up a badly injured Theo
who was protected by Luna.
"Jump!" Hermione urged them, when the
next flight of stairs was taking far too
long to swivel over. She did so first,
casting a Cushioning charm on the
bottom before she could hit the ground.
The others followed her, rushing to join
Ron and Neville, who were ushering
people away from the Quad.
"Use the viaduct!" Neville was yelling,
his face pale and forehead bleeding.
"Retreat!"
It was a flurry of horrified screams and
shouts, with people pushing their way
through blindly, aimlessly, just to escape
the terrifying, all-consuming flames
sweeping towards them. Hermione felt
herself jostled among the crowd, and she
kept a tight grip on Blaise and Pansy,
careful not to lose any of her friends.
Her eyes were still fixed on Draco
several floors above, making his way
down while fending off the remaining of
the Death-Eaters.
"We have to go!" Blaise ordered,
shoving the rest of them after the crowd.
"Luna, get Theo and get out of here."
Luna and Theo were the first to leave,
but the others stayed to help those who
were badly injured. Hermione kept her
attention on Terry Boot, who had
collapsed midway due to a broken leg.
She binded his leg swiftly and helped
him over to the other D.A. members,
while Blaise and Pansy did the same for
Cho, who had half of her face burnt in a
blasting spell.
"Where's the Order?" Draco demanded
moments later, pushing his way through
the crowd. Majority of the people were
members of the Rebellion that had
joined their side, or prisoners that had
been previously captured by the Death-
Eaters. But the forerunners of the Order
were nowhere in sight.
"Some of them are still out there!" Ron
called back. "Shacklebolt's trying to
round up the rest but we've got to stop
the fire before it kills them all!"
"You can't stop Fiendfyre," Neville
interjected, only to be brushed aside by
Draco as he headed towards the Quad.
"Malfoy!"
Draco paused and turned to the two of
them. His eyes were searching for
Hermione rapidly, and he finally found
her lifting a young girl to her feet some
distance away, soothing the girl's tears
and whispering encouraging words into
her ear.
"You - get everyone out of here," he said
quietly to Neville, ignoring the way his
eyes widened. "And you," he gripped
Ron's arm tightly now. "Get her out of
here."
"Malfoy - "
"I mean it, Weasel," Draco levelled him
a firm gaze. "Keep her safe at any cost."
Without waiting for either of them to
reply, Draco turned and vanished into
the crowd.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Everywhere she turned, Hermione saw a

sea of red.
Red streaking down people's faces, red-
rimmed eyes mourning the lost of loved
ones, red staining the clothes of the
victims. It was war at its finest, and
Hermione was in the middle of it all,
watching people jostle and hurry past
her along the Viaduct.
She tried not to think about the losses -
there were at least eight casualties she
knew about, Dean Thomas, Michael
Corner and Seamus Finnigan from the
D.A. being among the eight - along with
many others she was thankful she didn't
know about. Draco had once told her
that in a war, numbing oneself proved to
be incredibly easy after awhile and she
found it to be true.
She was certain, however, that when all
was over, the sadness would come
crashing down on her like a tidal wave,
suffocating and drowning.
Closing her eyes briefly, she forced the
thought out of her mind and slipped her
arm through Ginny's, following her and
Ron across the Viaduct towards the
Courtyard where everyone else was.
The first wave of Death-Eaters had been
more or less destroyed, and now
Shacklebolt had called for a respite
before Voldemort came with the rest of
his army. The only thing they had to
escape was the Fiendfyre, which had not
caught up with them.
For now, they were safe.
Everything else was a time-ticking
bomb.
"I hate this," Ginny muttered, when the
three of them finally entered the
courtyard. "This is the worst part of the
war."
Hermione couldn't help but agree. It was
a scene of devastation that greeted them.
All around the Courtyard, people sat in
huddles, their wands lit in a dim glow so
that they could see in the dark.
McGonagall, Flitwick, Slughorn, Arthur
and Molly Weasley stood with several
others, their wands raised as they
chanted incantations to further strengthen
the protections of the Castle, so that they
could buy more time for everyone to
recuperate. Several Healers dashed
around, treating the severely wounded,
while in the far corner huddled a small
crowd of people as they paid their
respects to the deceased.
She saw familiar faces along with many
other unfamiliar ones, people who
smiled faintly and waved to
acknowledge her, others who simply
stared vacantly, their eyes blank with
loss or fear. The D.A. had gathered in
the middle of the Courtyard, talking in
hushed whispers, while other members
of the Order had joined them.
Then Hermione felt her gaze locking
onto the group huddled in the distance.
Blaise was seated on a wrecked boulder
treating his own injuries, while Luna
was trying to heal Theo's broken leg.
Hermione's eyes widened and she turned
to Ron so quickly she almost caught
whiplash. "Where's Draco?"
Something flickered in Ron's eyes. "He's
right behind."
Hermione spun round, searching for a
familiar head of white blonde hair
amidst the crowd of people leaving the
Viaduct behind them. "Where?"
"He'll be here soon. Let's just wait with
the others."
Reluctantly, Hermione allowed herself
to be led off by Ginny, and was soon
healing the other members of 17-65.
Hermione considered herself lucky to be
in a relatively good shape, thanks to
Draco's earlier quick reflexes in the
battle. Ginny and Ron, having used their
brooms to fly, had escaped unscathed
with minor cuts, bruises and burns. The
others were pretty roughened up - apart
from Theo's broken leg, Luna's wrist
was fractured, while Blaise had taken
the brunt of two Crucios.
"I think we can win," said Luna
optimistically, after a prolonged moment
of silence, intermingled with the wails
and cries of people surrounding them.
"We seem to have far more people
fighting on our side this time."
Theo chuckled almost mirthlessly. "Hate
to piss on your parade, Luna, but the
Dark Lord also has far more people
fighting on his side this time. What you
saw earlier was just a taste - call it a
prelude, if you want - of what's to come.
Hey, Pansy, what's wrong?"
The group turned to the black-haired
witch, who had come limping over to the
group, her face tight and withdrawn.
"Tracey's dead," she said quietly,
settling beside Blaise who immediately
wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't
even - I mean, I just met her again."
"The D.A. isn't fairing too well," said
Ginny, settling down on the ground next
to Ron. "The Order's lost a couple of
people here and there too."
"It's a war, Ginny." Ron's jaw was
clenched. Hermione could see that it
was taking him a huge effort not to look
in the direction of his old schoolmates,
to count how many there were left and
how many who were no longer there.
"People die all the time."
"Yes - but we've buried too many. Some
we couldn't even bury at all."
Blaise tossed Ginny a phial, before
passing two others to Ron and Luna.
"This might help. Numbing potion," he
explained, when they shot him a
quizzical look. "Draco and I concocted it
some time ago - well, that and the anti-
disarming charm. This potion dulls your
emotions while you're on the
battlefield."
"It's what we drink to kill people," Theo
quipped, with a wry smile.
"Or, in this case - to forget," Blaise
assured Luna when she looked at Theo
in alarm. "This isn't a time for mourning.
We have to keep our grief at bay. Drink
up."
Hermione faded out from the
conversation. Her mind was still in a
whirl and she was worried sick for
Draco, Neville and Harry, all of whom
hadn't arrived yet. She knew that the
others were also talking just to
momentarily forget the devastation
around them. Settling down on the
boulder next to Luna, she kept her eyes
trained on the stream of people entering
the Courtyard. The crowd had thinned
out, and almost everyone was gathered
by now.
The Neville came running up, herding
the last of the crowd into the Courtyard.
He ran up to them, a streak of blood
trickling from the side of his forehead,
and crouched down to catch his breath.
"It's done," he said breathlessly, "I blew
up the Viaduct. I had to."
Hermione felt her heart plummet.
"What?"
"I - " and Neville's eyes widened as he
noticed her pale face. "Oh, bloody hell,
Hermione - "
"You blew up the Viaduct?" She
repeated, her voice deathly calm. She
was suddenly aware that everyone's eyes
were trained on her as she got to her
feet, slowly but steadily making her way
towards the entrance of the Courtyard.
"Red?" Blaise's voice was guarded.
Neville tentatively reached out for her.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry - "
And now the blood was rushing to her
ears as she stumbled forward, rushing
past several crowds of people. She
could barely see them in her peripherals,
but somewhere along the way, she
noticed that she'd run past McGonagall
and Ron's parents, and they were all
reaching out to grab her. But they were
all peripherals, and the only thing she
focused on was that low archway that
led to the now obliterated bridge.
She saw it at last - the dark looming
bridge that was blown to bits
somewhere in the middle. What was left
on the other side was utterly charred,
clear evidence of an infernal fire that
had surged through and devastated
everything in its path. And that was
when it suddenly hit her, the frightening,
irrevocable harsh truth of reality.
It destroyed her.
She was clapping a shaky hand over her
mouth before she could scream into the
silence, but inside her head was nothing
but screaming, long and painful and
devastating. Then there were frantic
sounds of people calling her name as she
surged forward, heading for the dark
hallway, but Ron's arms had tightened
around her before she could get far.
"He'll be fine, Hermione!" Ron's voice
was harsh, as if he was struggling to
hold back tears of his own. "He'll be
fine, you don't know yet. He could still
be out there."
He pulled her towards him to wrap his
arms tightly around her, and in the haze
of tears she could see them all - Theo
struggling up as Blaise and Luna pushed
him down, Pansy, Ginny and Neville
running over to her with matching
distraught looks on their faces. Most of
the Order and some members of the
Rebellion were also staring at the
destroyed bridge, their eyes wide and
faces solemn as they braced themselves
for the worst.
Hermione ignored them all and kept her
eyes trained on the empty bridge. "Come
back to me," she whispered, her plea an
empty echo in the tired wind. "Please
come back to me."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Draco's disappearance into the crowd
had only been the first of many trials and
tribulations he had to endure within the
next twenty minutes. It took him awhile
to track down the Death-Eater who had
started the Fiendfyre. It was Crabbe
Senior, and Draco had no wish to kill the
man, so he'd simply placed him under an
Imperius curse.
He'd then ordered the Death-Eater to
curb the Fiendfyre, while he took off
running in the direction of the Viaduct,
just behind the last group of people, who
were being herded across the bridge by
Neville. He was less than thirty feet
away from them, but the infernal flames
had been catching up. If Crabbe Senior
didn't stop the flames in time, they would
consume him, and then the rest of the
school.
There were two things that came to
Draco's mind at that moment. The first
was that he needed to survive. The
second was that Hermione needed to
survive.
The second overrode the first, and he
was yelling at Neville before he could
even process the implications of his
request, his voice a sharp order in the
tired wind and deafening flames. "Blow
up the bridge!"
Neville paused in his stride, casting a
horrified glance over his shoulder. "But
-"
"Now!"
Drawing in a reluctant breath, Neville
held his wand out. "Reducto!"
A portion of the bridge disintegrated into
rubble and Neville was forced to turn on
his heels and run before the rest of the
bridge collapsed under his feet. Draco
watched as Neville dragged several
people quickly across the other side, and
then it was his turn, but the gap was
daunting, to say the least.
And absolutely impossible to cross.
Still, he had to try. As the flames surged
towards him, the heat of it almost
scorching his back, Draco knew that
there wasn't much of a choice. "Fuck it,"
he mumbled under his breath, before
sprinting the last few feet forward,
hurling himself off the bridge.
It was almost like flying. For a moment,
he felt himself hover in mid-air, in free
fall, his legs dragged out in a perfect
leap forward.
Then his hands were barely connecting
with the cemented precipice on the other
side, the jagged edges scraping the flesh
off his palms as he slipped, and he was
plummeting down the way Hermione had
three years ago. The air was a blur as it
rushed around him, and he could barely
register what was happening, barely
breathe, as he scrambled futilely for
something, anything, to hold on to.
His lifeline came mid-fall - a hand came
out of nowhere to latch onto his wrist,
and he felt a sharp, searing pain as the
joint in his elbow tore with the action,
but he gritted his teeth through the pain
and glanced up.
"Potter?"
Harry grinned down at him. "Contrary to
what you may think, Malfoy, you're not
the Boy Who Lived, so don't ever pull a
stunt like that again."
Draco was so relieved he couldn't think
of anything to say. Instead, he dragged
his other arm to the broom, hauling
himself up while Harry maintained a
firm grasp on him. He exhaled shakily
once he was righted on the broom,
feeling oxygen rush back into his lungs.
"How - " he rasped tiredly, once he had
regained his breath. "How did you - "
"I was circling the area," Harry replied,
as he flew them towards the Courtyard.
"Couldn't see you with the rest of them,
so I figured you'd gotten stuck out here
somehow."
"And Hermione?"
"I saw Ron and Ginny bringing her
across the Viaduct. She's safe," Harry
assured him, and lowered the broom to
the ground in a secluded corner of the
Courtyard.
Draco vaguely registered the distant
sounds of mourning and the distinct
stench of blood. Dragging himself off the
broom, he collapsed onto the ground,
ignoring the cobblestones digging into
his back in pointed edges, or the
numbness in one of his arms.
"This is a one-off thing," he murmured,
slowly peeling open his eyes to look at
Harry, who had settled down on the
ground beside him. "But thanks, Potter."
Harry grinned widely. "You're welcome.
Now will you stop being such a prick?"
"Don't fucking count on it - " but his
sentence was abruptly cut off when
someone slammed into him, and he
caught a faint rush of citrus that was
purely Hermione, a mop of curls
practically smothering him and arms
wrapping tightly around his neck, and
she was sobbing his name over and over
and over again until he could barely
make sense of the syllables.
"Hermione," he mumbled, shifting his
head to press his lips to her neck,
propping himself up on his good elbow.
He tasted the salt on her skin, the stench
of blood in her hair, absolutely fitting at
a time like this. "It's okay, I'm here now,
I'm safe."
His voice was like a trigger to her and
she slowly pulled back, rubbing the tears
from her eyes furiously as she scanned
his face searchingly. "I thought I lost
you," she choked back a sob, "when
Neville said he - he blew up the Viaduct
-"
"I told him to."
"I just - I thought - "
He kissed her. Brusingly, painfully - like
he was trying to make sure that she was
real and he was finally able to breathe
again. He desperately tangled his fingers
in her hair, dragging her down so that
she was hovering over him.
And she kissed him back with fervent
abandon, delving her slick, hot tongue
into his mouth and clutching his face
tightly between her hands. He tasted
tears and blood on her lips, an ever-
pressing reminder of the situation they
were thrust into, but forgot all about it in
the next instant, because Hermione
Granger was a kind of aphrodisiac that
one lost themselves in, the world could
spin madly on but she was the epicentre
of everything that mattered.
Hermione finally pulled back when
Harry let out a discreet cough, but she
continued to freckle swift kisses on
Draco's face. "Merlin," she whispered
so softly that no one else could hear but
him, "I love you."
His lips quirked in a wry smirk. "My
name's Draco, actually."
Hermione laughed, in spite of the
relieved tears still streaking down her
face, and slowly helped Draco up. It
wasn't until then that she noticed many
curious eyes looking their way, but she
could hardly care less. Reaching over
Draco, she held out an arm to pull Harry
into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Anytime, Hermione."
"Malfoy!" Ginny and Ron were running
up, with the rest of the group following
behind closely, matching expressions of
sheer relief on all their faces. Theo was
the first to hobble over, dropping down
on the ground and aiming a well-
deserved punch on Draco's shoulder.
"You arse!" Theo's eyes were red-
rimmed, despite the aggravated
expression on his face. "Don't fucking
scare us like that again!"
Then Ron and Ginny were threatening
Draco in a similar way, while Blaise,
who had seen the disjointed angle that
Draco's elbow was turned in, hastily
reached for his arm to heal him. Pansy
was a shrieking mess as she hugged him,
and Luna's thrilled smile seemed to light
the whole atmosphere. Then Neville
came up, looking rather shamefaced as
he sat down on the ground, eyeing Draco
with evident concern.
Draco noticed immediately, and he
nudged Neville. "Not your fault,
Longbottom. If you didn't blow up the
Viaduct, the fire would've spread over to
the Courtyard."
"The fire's gone now," Luna mused,
looking distantly in the direction of the
ruined bridge.
"So it's just a waiting game from here on
out?" Ron asked.
"Well, there's not much else we can do,"
Pansy pointed out reasonably. "I've no
doubt that Voldemort's on his way over,
and he's trying to break through the
shields as we speak."
"Okay, do we have a plan?"
"We could try Disillusionment charms
again," Ginny shrugged. "It's a sneaky
attack - might keep us alive."
"So - Disillusionment charms until
Neville or Harry gets to face off
Voldemort?"
"Sounds good to me," Theo said, and the
rest seemed to nod in agreement.
"Draco, what do you think?"
Draco hedged. He looked at Theo, who
had posed the question, then at the rest of
the group - Neville, Ron, Harry, Ginny,
Luna, Blaise, Pansy. Their faces were
expectant, drawn tight with anxiety. Then
he turned to Hermione, and a flicker of
realisation dawned on her face as she
noticed the determined gleam in his
eyes.
"That's the plan," he acknowledged at
last, and slowly climbed to his feet, well
aware of everyone's eyes on him, and
turned to Harry. "Except - you have to
disarm me first."
Everyone paused in stunned surprise.
Draco could practically hear the crackle
of confusion in the air, and Blaise in
particular looked like he was about to
drive himself mad just trying to figure
out the meaning of Draco's words.
"Me?" Harry was the first to break the
silence, looking rather puzzled. "I don't
understand."
In his peripheral vision, Draco noticed
that the tension within the group had not
gone unnoticed by the people around
them. Shacklebolt, McGonagall and
several other people slowly begin to
head towards him, and he braced
himself.
It was time.
"Because, in order to defeat Voldemort,
you need the allegiance of the Elder
Wand." Dragging a frustrated hand
through his hair, Draco met Harry's gaze
frankly and sighed. "And I am the Master
of the Elder Wand."
49 | expelliarmus

49
e xp e l l i a r mus
Disarms opponent.

The silence that greeted him had never

been louder before.
Draco looked down at the others, and
apart from Hermione, the rest were all
stunned into speechlessness, including
the other people who had overheard
their conversation.
Harry shifted, delicately breaking the
fragile silence and blinked at Draco.
"You're the Master of the Elder Wand?"
"Do keep up, Potter," Draco frowned in
faint irritation. "Yes, I'm the Master of
the Elder Wand. Its allegiance has
belonged to me for the past three years."
"Muffliato," Harry waved a dismissive
hand to ensure that the conversation
stayed between the group and turned
back to Draco, pinching the bridge of his
nose wearily. "Sit down, Malfoy. And
explain from the very beginning."
Draco automatically narrowed his eyes,
but sat down all the same, next to
Hermione and Theo. He felt Hermione
thread her fingers through his and held
on tight, glad that there was at least one
person who knew the truth and stayed
with him, regardless of what he did and
his culpability in this war.
Letting out a lengthy sigh, Draco drew
out the phials that hung around his neck
and plucked one of them between his
fingertips. "This phial was given to me
by Snape, several days before he died.
He wanted to have at least - someone,
who knew what he went through, knew
what he'd seen, knew what he had to
do."
Ron's eyes widened with a flicker of
recollection. "He showed Harry his
memories too. We collected them from
him right before he died."
Draco was surprised to hear this but
simply shrugged. "In the memories he
gave me, I saw that Voldemort was on a
quest for the Elder Wand, but it had all
along been in the hands of Dumbledore.
Until the night he died - because I had
disarmed him."
An uncomfortable silence trailed in the
wake of Draco's words, as some of them
clearly remembered how Draco had
intended to kill Dumbledore upon
Voldemort's request years ago. It was all
in the past, but Draco could still sense
their animosity when this matter came
up, and he hastily cleared his throat and
continued.
"Anyway, it occurred to me that I had
become the Master of the Elder Wand by
disarming Dumbledore. Then I
remembered that you," he threw a half-
hearted glare at Harry, "had disarmed
me at the Malfoy Manor - "
"That's embarrassing," Theo mumbled,
stifling a snigger. "Can't believe Potter
beat you."
Draco rolled his eyes and cast a
wordless Silencing charm on Theo
before turning back to Harry. " - so then
the allegiance of the Wand had shifted to
you. It didn't matter to me - by then, I
was fucking exhausted and the only
reason I stayed with Voldemort was
because he'd kill my parents if I didn't."
His hand instinctively tightened on
Hermione's at the thought of his parents.
Back then, he believed that staying
would grant him and his parents full
pardon. Truth be told, it didn't make a
difference. Whether they stayed or left,
the Malfoys were completely
dispensable to Voldemort. Everyone
was.
"On the day of the final battle, after
Crabbe died in the Fiendfyre," a flash of
pain momentarily crossed his face at the
mention of his friend, but it was over in
the next instant and his face was
expressionless once more as he looked
at Harry. "I trailed you and watched you
get cornered by Dolohov in one of the
hallways."
"Dolohov?" Harry frowned. "I was
never cornered by Dolohov."
"That's because you don't remember it,"
Draco returned flatly. "He cornered you
and disarmed you. Then he Obliviated
that portion of your memories, and I
believe he also inserted a false one
when he was done. That's why you have
no recollection of it."
Harry shook his head, clearly stunned by
the turn of events. "I can't believe it."
"Shit," Blaise breathed, his mind
working rapidly as he thought. "Draco,
does this mean that Dolohov had been
wanting possession of the Deathly
Hallows since the battle?"
"I believe he knew about the Deathly
Hallows," Draco hedged slowly, "I don't
believe he actually wanted them until the
battle was over. Because Dolohov was
sent to disarm Harry on Voldemort's
orders."
"How did he know that I was the Master
of the Elder Wand in the first place?"
Harry asked.
Draco shrugged. "You were a fucking
open book, you weren't skilled in
Occlumency. I've no doubt that
Voldemort managed to sift through your
mind, find out that you knew that you
were the Master of the Elder Wand. So
he ordered Dolohov to disarm you."
Ginny raised a hand to stop Draco.
"Well, why didn't he just disarm Harry
himself?"
"Simple - he wanted Potter to fight him
still believing that he had the wand's
allegiance. Then Potter would face off
with him without a single fucking clue as
to what had happened, and wouldn't
even know what hit him until he was
lying dead on the ground."
"But Harry didn't die," Luna smiled, the
only one apart from Hermione who was
unperturbed by the news.
"Correct." Draco nodded at her and
smirked as he remembered what
happened after that. "Because I disarmed
Dolohov before he could return back to
Voldemort. And then I Obliviated his
memory and inserted a false one, just
like what he did to Potter."
"Bloody Slytherin," Ron shook his head,
his lips twitching in amusement.
"And then I watched Voldemort disarm
Dolohov, thinking that he was now the
Master of the Elder Wand."
"Hold on - let me get something
straight," Pansy stopped him, staring at
him with her mouth open. "Are you
saying that all these years, Voldemort's
been waving the bloody Wand about,
thinking that its allegiance belonged to
him?"
"He's had fun, hasn't he?"
"Are you fucking serious?" Theo broke
out in a fit of laughter despite the tense
atmosphere, prompting Hermione to start
giggling along with him as she tried to
stifle her laughter with the back of her
hand. Even the rest looked rather amused
now. "Classic Malfoy!"
Draco allowed himself to grin, but he
soon straightened his face as he focused
on the matter at hand, turning back to
Harry. "I was going to return Mastery of
the Elder Wand to you," he said, his
voice quieter now. "But then you were
facing Voldemort before I could even
find you. Neither of you had the Wand's
allegiance, but Voldemort did have the
Wand in his hand all along and so,
naturally, he won."
Draco's words fell flat in the silence, as
all of them were suddenly made aware
of the repercussions of his actions. Had
Harry been the Master of the Elder
Wand, the past three years would've
panned out completely differently. The
Order would still be in existence,
Hermione would've never been
captured, and there would be no war.
One crafty Slytherin, one disarming
spell, one wand - and everything had
changed.
"So all these years, you've been using
another wand?" Neville asked curiously,
looking at the discarded wand near
Draco's feet.
Draco picked it up, feeling a faint pang
of nostalgia sweep through him as he
studied it. "My mother's. I don't have to
be using the Elder Wand to be the Master
of it. But I'm certain that I am - it's the
reason why I created the anti-disarming
charm in the first place."
"You know," Harry mused thoughtfully,
"I can't say that you were in the wrong,
Malfoy." Draco met his gaze in surprise
and he shrugged. "If you didn't take the
Wand's allegiance from Dolohov,
Voldemort would've taken it. And I
would've been dead by now."
"I know."
"So," Harry's lips lifted in a grin. "Are
you willing to give up ownership?"
Draco let go of Hermione's hand and
dragged himself to his feet, silently
removing the anti-disarming charms on
himself. Charms that he had created so
long ago to prevent anyone - even
Voldemort himself - from disarming him,
so that he could retain ownership of the
Elder Wand, until the time came for the
Boy Who Lived to win.
The time was now.
He squared his shoulders and loosened
his grip on his mother's wand. "Go
ahead."
Harry quickly got to his feet, well aware
that almost everyone in the Courtyard
was watching the exchange between the
two, now that the Muffling charms had
worn off. Taking a deep breath, Harry
directed his wand at Draco.
"Expelliarmus!"
A blinding jet of light streaked out
towards Draco, and he felt his grip on
the wand loosening, before the wand
was flying out of his hand. Harry caught
it swiftly in mid-air, and then all was
silent as everyone around them realised
the gravity of the situation.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was
finally the Master of the Elder Wand.
Harry didn't move as he studied
Narcissa Malfoy's wand. It felt
reasonably compliant in his hand, and he
looked over at Draco. "You know what's
funny?" He said at last, tossing his own
wand over to Draco, who easily caught
it. "That, I believe, belongs to you."
Draco's eyes widened as he recognised
the familiar hawthorn-wood wand. He
felt a faint rush of nostalgia. This wand
had seen him through years of his
teenage years, and he'd performed so
many spells with it. "How the hell do
you still have this?"
"From the skirmish at the Malfoy Manor
years ago. I grabbed your wand away,
and I've been using it ever since, even to
fight Voldemort during the previous
battle. Funny how our fates keep
intertwining, huh, Malfoy?"
"For fuck's sake - "
A distant commotion cut Draco off mid-
sentence, and the group turned, only to
see Shacklebolt and several members of
the Order getting to their feet. The
atmosphere was tense now, like the
imminent storm that had hovered over
their heads had finally arrived.
"They're here," Theo said, getting to his
feet. His eyes were sharp and trained in
the distance, and when Draco followed
his line of vision, he saw what Theo had
seen - the shield around the castle
slowly disintegrating into vaporised
mist.
The others quickly got up, and Draco
tried not to let the taut apprehension
show on his face as he quietly gave out
directions. "Let's keep it simple. Keep
the Death-Eaters at bay, take down
whoever you can. And Potter will face
off Voldemort when he's ready."
The rest of them nodded in
understanding, Neville in particular
looking almost relieved that he wouldn't
have to face Voldemort alone. There was
a low hum of chatter, the shuffling of
footsteps as the crowd around slowly
prepared for what would be the final
battle to end the terrifying war that had
lasted for far too long.
Draco turned when he felt Hermione
sidle up to him, a tiny smile playing on
her face. She pushed herself up on the
tips of her toes to seal a quick kiss to his
lips before pulling back. In spite of the
dried tears or the faint bruises clouding
her face or the streaks of blood in her
hair, he thought she'd never looked more
beautiful and alive before.
He couldn't help but think that there were
repercussions of his actions three years
ago, but within the mess he'd made, he
had somehow found Hermione Granger -
the light to his darkness, the angel to his
inner demons, the pulse in his otherwise
unfeeling heart.
She was all he could see, and her voice
was all he could hear when she spoke.
"Maybe, tomorrow, we'll finally be
safe."
Maybe they would.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The first spell came out of nowhere
exactly one minute after the shield had
been taken down.
It was far too quick for anyone to
counter - Hermione was standing with
her friends one moment, her fingers
intertwined with Draco's; but the next
moment, she found herself being pushed
behind Draco as he cast a powerful
shield to protect all ten of them.
He was the only one swift enough to
react, and they were far away enough to
not take the brunt of the spell. Others
were not as lucky, and she watched in
horror as the spell exploded right into
the crowd, sending several bodies and
limbs flying in different directions,
evidence that a Dark Spell had just been
cast, the first of many more to come.
Then Shacklebolt was yelling for
everyone to stand guard, while
McGonagall was sending a spell back in
the direction where it came from. And
Hermione found herself thrust into the
thick of war again as Death-Eaters flew
overhead on brooms, hurling curses and
hexes every which way. Draco and Theo
were the first to snap into action, taking
down Death-Eaters as swiftly as they
appeared, and the rest soon joined in.
But Hermione felt herself frozen on the
spot. Her head was thrumming with
screams and yells, but the moment she
saw Katie Bell flung back against the
wall nearby, her lifeless form slumping
onto the ground as Ginny let out a
devastated cry, the oxygen was sucked
out from her lungs again, a sickening
emptiness churning in her stomach.
One down. She didn't think she could
lose any more people today.
Blinking back the tears that sprung to her
eyes, she whirled around and fired a
spell at the Death-Eater that had killed
Katie. Ginny soon joined her, and it
wasn't long before the barrage of spells
that they hammered at the Death-Eater
took him down in one fell swoop.
Then they were forced to scatter as a
wayward blast hurtled towards them,
and Hermione found herself alone again.
She locked her gaze on Luna some
distance away, barely holding her own
as she battled a burly Death-Eater. She
rushed forward, momentarily distracting
the Death-Eater by firing a stunning spell
his way. The Death-Eater turned to her,
only to be taken unaware by a favourite
spell of Luna's.
"Levicorpus!"
Hermione didn't hesitate to train her
wand on the Death-Eater who was now
dangled by his ankle in mid-air by an
invisible rope. "Stupefy!"
The moment the Death-Eater fell to the
ground in an unconscious heap, Luna
turned to Hermione and smiled.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Episkey." Hermione
waved her wand to fix Luna's bloodied
nose, and pulled the blonde witch back
into the thick of battle. "Come on."
She and Luna weaved their way past
people, firing spells to help arbitrary
Order and Rebellion members along the
way. Midway through, Luna went to help
Theo, while Hermione ran over to
Neville, who was single-handedly
duelling two Death-Eaters. She fired a
disarming curse at one, and he swiftly
stunned both of them, smiling at her once
the Death-Eaters were unconscious on
the ground.
"Nicely done, Hermione - " but the
words were ripped from his throat as a
Cruciatus hit him in the back, and he fell
over with a torturous yell.
"Mr Longbottom!" McGonagall was
running over to him along with Professor
Flitwick, but Hermione felt her breath
lodge in her throat as something in the
Death-Eater's voice struck a chord in her
memory.
Her fingers tightened on her wand as she
strode forward. She could hear other
people running up to provide
reinforcements - everyone seemed
horrified that Neville was being tortured
in front of them. But she was quicker
than any of them, the curse that slipped
past her lips instinctive and powerful
and vengeful.
"Flipendo!" The Death-Eater barely
twisted out of the way to avoid her hex,
but she was shouting another before he
had the chance to recover. "Incendio!"
In her peripherals, she noticed that her
duel had drawn the attention of the
people around them. The Death-Eater's
mask fell off as he narrowly ducked, and
she felt her blood boil as she came face
to face with one of her captors.
Yaxley.
"Missed me, mudblood?" He sneered,
drawing his wand on her. "Avada
Kedavra!"
The spell missed her by a mere inch, the
killing curse flying past her ear with a
terrifying sizzle, but she flung another
spell back quickly, a wordless
Incarcerous that took him completely by
surprise. Thick, black ropes wound
around Yaxley's body, and she dragged
him across the rubble towards her,
kicking his wand far out of his reach.
Yaxley put up a fine struggle, but with a
twist of her wand, the ropes dug into his
skin so tightly until he cried out in pain.
"Going to kill me, mudblood?" He
rasped.
Hermione considered his question and,
at that moment, she realised how easy it
was to disassociate herself from the
situation. To let the three years of
suffering morph into nothing but searing
hatred, to let a simple curse slip past her
lips. It was war - kill or be killed.
People like Yaxley were better off dead
anyway.
Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra, Avada
Kedavra.
The words seemed incredibly easy to
say, almost mellifluous on her tongue.
"I can't." She whispered, digging her
wand to his temple. She really couldn't.
The words simply refused to leave her
lips, the magic for that curse simply
refused to pulse through her veins.
Shutting her eyes briefly, she pushed
aside all the loathing she had for this
pathetic excuse of a man in front of her.
And when she opened her eyes, the air
was far more breathable.
"Stupefy."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The arrival of the next wave of Death-

Eaters had thrust Draco into the thick of
battle, as he and Theo hammered spells
to knock the Death-Eaters off their
brooms, forcing them to fight on level
ground. Blaise and Pansy soon joined in,
effortlessly dragging down three Death-
Eaters in quick succession.
The Death-Eaters stumbled onto the
ground, and they barely had the time to
climb to their feet when Blaise trained
his wand on them. "Immobulus."
His spell froze the Death-Eaters in their
spot, and Draco promptly fired a spell at
the one on the left. "Confringo," he
murmured, sending the Death-Eater
blasting back with a fiery explosion, just
as Theo yelled a "Flipendo!" that sent
the other Death-Eater hurtling back
against a wall.
Pansy was quick to finish off the last
Death-Eater. "Petrificus Totalus!" She
watched in satisfaction as the man fell
over and smiled. "Good to see we
haven't lost our touch."
Draco froze as he saw a pack of Death-
Eaters heading towards them, their
masks and robes making them
indistinguishable from each other. "Hold
on to that thought, Parkinson."
Theo quickly assumed position beside
him, with Pansy and Blaise on Draco's
other side. And it wasn't long before the
four were shooting spells and deflecting
them with adroit moves and quick
reflexes. Draco could practically feel
his blood humming, ears buzzing as he
aimed curses with great precision - his
blasting spells a direct counterattack
with Blaise's freezing ones, while
Pansy's body-binding spells proved to
be incredibly useful when Theo knocked
back the opponents with jinxes.
"Hey, I have a question," Theo quipped,
grinning as he fought the Death-Eaters
off with wordless spells. "What're you
guys doing tomorrow?"
"Shagging," Pansy replied sweetly. "If
Blaise and I are still alive by then."
"Oh, Merlin, don't jinx it. I don't want to
- Expulso! - have to go to your bloody
funerals and write fucking eulogies and
everything."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Do you have to
be so morbid, Theo?"
"Come on, Blaise, where's your sense of
humour?"
"It's morbid humour - "
"Which is the best kind of humour." Theo
chuckled, pausing to cast a hex before
continuing, "you think Daphne
Greengrass will be up for a thank-fuck-
we're-alive shag later?"
"Thank-fuck-we're-alive shag?" Pansy
shot him a dubious glance.
"Yeah," drawled Draco, who had been
listening to the exchange with vague
amusement, but had mostly been duelling
and fending off curses for Theo, who
tended to be sloppy at times. "To
complement the fuck-the-world's-ending
shag he had with Susan Bones
yesterday."
"Bloody hell, Theo," Blaise shook his
head. "Are you sleeping your way
through the D.A.?"
Draco smirked. "Apparently, he's also
sleeping his way through Hufflepuff."
"What the fuck?" yelped Theo, amidst
laughter from Blaise and Pansy. "When
did I - "
"Susan Bones is from Hufflepuff, you
daft git."
"Shit - " Theo swore, before shrugging
the matter away. "Oh well, she was
great. There's this thing she did, with her
- oh, fuck!" He stopped abruptly,
bringing his hands up as a wayward
spell flew his way, only to have it
blocked by Draco.
Draco shot him an aggravated look. "You
were this close to missing the
opportunity to have thank-fuck-we're-
alive sex with Greengrass."
"Oh, lighten up, Draco," he scoffed,
before his eyes widened as he noticed
another spell darting towards them, too
quick and lethal to block. "Incoming!"
The spell was directed at Draco, and he
barely had time to weave out of the way
before the curse blasted a trail across
the ground, leaving a rim of fire in its
wake. Pansy, Blaise and Theo had all
scattered, but several other people were
not as lucky, and there were several
cries of pain as they found their skin
licked by the flames.
Draco knew exactly who had sent the
spell before he even saw the person.
Climbing to his feet, he braced himself
and eyed Bellatrix, who was flanked by
several other Death-Eaters as she hexed
her way through the crowd. Her laughter
was maniacal, her mop of unruly hair
and loud voice drawing the attention of
the people around her.
"Draco, darling," Bellatrix grinned
widely, flinging several people aside as
she honed in on him. Theo, Pansy and
Blaise were among them, and Draco
watched furiously as she sent the three
flying back with a frightening spell. "I've
missed you."
Draco ducked past another spell and sent
one hurtling right back at her. "I know,
Auntie dearest. I could feel your filthy
heart pining for me from miles away."
Bellatrix simply sneered. "You sicken
me. Crucio!" Her voice rung loud and
clear, and Draco heard several gasps
resonate around him as he rolled out of
the way. The Unforgivables could never
be blocked with a shield, and he hated
how helpless he felt against them.
"Confringo!"
Bellatrix didn't even flinch as she
blocked the spell, scorching several of
the Death-Eaters beside her in the
process. "Not an Avada?" She cooed,
shaking her head at Draco with a
menacing chuckle. "Such a pity, Draco.
You've gone soft."
"Hardly." Draco deadpanned. "There are
many ways to kill without an Avada.
This, for instance," he shot a Diffindo
that she deflected, but he hammered
spell after spell as he spoke. "And this."
Explulso. "And this." Bombarda. "I
prefer a wide variety, Auntie dearest."
"Oh, you really have to stop calling me
that, Draco." Bellatrix flashed him a grin
and shook her head, casting several
Crucios which he easily evaded. "I
know better than anyone else that you've
never seen me as your Aunt. And the fact
that you've so easily killed my husband
and Rabastan tells me how much you
disregard your bloodline. Except for, say
- Andromeda?"
Draco was flinging a hex at her before
he could even think. Red had clouded his
vision, and his heart was suddenly
frozen with fear as he thought of
Andromeda and Teddy back home. No -
they were safe. Grus had sealed up the
place, and they were hidden.
They were safe. They had to be, right?
Bellatrix cackled, clearly delighted at
having gotten a reaction out of him. "I've
touched a nerve, haven't I, Draco? I
didn't mind when your mother died years
ago, and I don't think I'd mind seeing the
death of another one of my sisters - "
"Stupefy!"
The cry had come from a different
source, this one taking Bellatrix by
surprise, even though she deflected it
easily. Draco turned, seeing Ginny
standing a good distance away from him,
her eyes flashing and stance fearless as
she glared at Bellatrix.
"Oh, charming," Bellatrix laughed.
"Potter's blood-traitor girlfriend. This
should be fun."
"Go to hell," Ginny spat, firing another
stunning hex at her.
"Not without you!" Bellatrix sang,
before aiming, "Crucio!"
Ginny barely evaded the spell. And then
Draco and Ginny were keeping her at
bay with a barrage of spells as she
advanced towards them. Luna and Pansy
soon joined in, while Blaise and Theo
fought off a group of Death-Eaters some
distance away with Neville.
But Draco's mind was elsewhere. He'd
noticed a sudden change in the weather -
the air seemed to have gotten stiller, a
second calm before another tempestuous
storm. The fighting was still in full force
around him, but now that Bellatrix was
on the battlefield -
There he was.
Draco saw the figure in the horizon
before anyone else did, leading a new
wave of Death-Eaters in masks and
robes. The man was a shade of ghastly
grey amidst flyaway black robes as he
strode towards the Courtyard. Voldemort
and the rest of his army were still a good
distance away, but Draco knew that it
was time.
Neatly ducking from Bellatrix's curse, he
held up his wand and shot a spell.
"Periculum!"
Fiery crimson flares jetted out from the
wand, shooting straight into the air about
fifty feet above the ground, high up
enough for everyone in the vicinity to
see it. The flares were an indication of
the impending danger, and there was a
sudden flurry around him as people
began to realise that Voldemort had
finally joined the battle.
Draco ducked another one of Bellatrix's
spells and swerved past several people.
"Theo!" He yelled, catching the attention
of his friend some distance away. "Find
Potter!"
Theo nodded and disappeared into the
crowd, leaving Blaise and Neville to
fend off the group of Death-Eaters
alongside several other members of the
Order. The momentary distraction was
sufficient for Bellatrix to send a Dark
spell his way, and Draco didn't even see
it flying at him until he heard Pansy's
shrill scream.
"Draco! Watch out!"
He barely had time to put out a shield as
the spell rammed right at him, throwing
him off balance. The impact was
deafening, blasting people left and right
as Draco's shield absorbed the brunt of
the curse. But he found himself flung
across the Courtyard; his body slamming
excruciatingly against the cobbled
ground as he finally tumbled over.
The sounds of screaming were still
ringing in his ears and he shook his head,
coughing raggedly as he pushed himself
to his feet, blinking away the dust from
his eyes. It took awhile for his
disoriented senses to get back on track,
and when he did, he realised the
terrifying predicament he was in.
Voldemort was there - barely twenty-feet
away from him.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The Golden Trio had found themselves

in quite a fix.
Hermione had found them minutes after
defeating Yaxley, the two of them
cornered by several Death-Eaters in the
hallway adjacent to the Courtyard, and
she'd promptly joined in the fight. With
her defensive charms, Harry's accurate
disarming spells and Ron's brawlish
duelling, the Death-Eaters didn't stand a
chance.
But the next wave of Death-Eaters had
arrived before they had a chance to
recuperate and then it was another bout
of non-stop duelling, stunning and
disarming spells, twisting and ducking
and weaving, a combination that left her
gasping for breath, heart pounding
erratically in her chest and limbs aching.
"Flipendo!" She cast a knockback jinx
on the Death-Eater closest to them, and it
forced him to stumble back a couple of
steps, his mask clattering onto the ground
with the force of her spell. And then she
found her heart leap to her throat as she
recognised his face.
His gaze locked onto hers and in the next
instant, he was hurling a spell her way.
"Crucio!"
Hermione yelped and barely scrambled
out of the way, the spell whizzing by and
grazing the tip of her ear. Beside her,
Harry and Ron had paused in shock at
the sudden use of an Unforgivable, and
then their eyes narrowed as they noticed
Walden MacNair standing several feet
away from them.
Both Harry and Ron began hammering
several stunning curses in quick
succession, but MacNair was a swift
one and he swerved away with great
expertise, forcing the other Death-Eaters
to take the brunt of their spells instead.
With a furious look on his face, Harry
took aim and cast a potent disarming
spell. "Expelliarmus!"
MacNair's wand flew out of his hand
and into Harry's; then Hermione was
directing a hex at the defenceless man.
"Immobulus!"
MacNair froze in place, and Ron took
the opportunity to finish him off.
"Stupefy!" He yelled, watching in great
satisfaction as the Death-Eater was flung
back and collapsed in an unconscious
heap.
The three worked to take down the last
two Death-Eaters with ease, and when
they were done, Hermione turned to
Harry and Ron with a grateful smile.
"Thanks."
"Are you kidding?" Ron grinned. "It was
our pleasure."
"Yeah. I've been wanting to do that ever
since I saw your memories," Harry
added, before heading towards a hidden
archway to check the wound on his leg.
Hermione quickly brought out potions to
heal him and Ron, smiling the latter
grumbled away when she fixed his
injuries; though she couldn't help but
notice that Harry was silent throughout.
And Ron, who was usually insensitive to
these kinds of things, also began to take
notice. "Everything alright, mate?"
"Just - " Harry stopped, tiredly running a
hand through his hair, " - terrified, I
guess."
Hermione shuffled over to sit beside
him, with Ron on his other side. "It's
okay to be scared," she said quietly. "It's
a war. It's okay to be scared all the
time."
"You've got this, though," Ron
interjected. "You're now the Master of
the Elder Wand, Voldemort has no more
Horcruxes left, there's nothing else
standing in the way."
"I know. It's just - I already lost to him
once. Just thinking about losing to him
again is enough to drive me crazy."
Hermione shot Ron a fleeting glance
over Harry's bent head, and reached into
her satchel. "Maybe this'll help," she
drew out a tiny phial, surreptitiously
peeling off the label on it and placed the
phial in Harry's hands. "Drink up."
"What is it?"
"Felix Felicis." She smiled when his
eyes widened. "Better known as liquid
luck."
Harry cast her an unsure glance, but
when she nodded, his jaw clenched and
he popped the lid on the phial. He
downed it in a single gulp, eyes bright
with newfound determination and
nodded. "Okay, let's go."
Hermione and Ron slowly followed
Harry out onto the battlefield again, but
she lingered behind when Ron nudged
her. "Was that - "
"Fake?" Her lips curled in a faint smile.
"Absolutely. It's actually a blood-
replenishing potion, but he doesn't need
to know that."
Ron's eyes gleamed and he chuckled.
"You know, Harry once tricked me into
winning a Quidditch game by pretending
to add Liquid Luck into my drink. And
now, you're doing the same to him.
Guess some things never change."
Hermione smile began to widen in
response and she turned to follow Harry
and Ron down the steps. But someone
had come running through the crowd, and
she gaped when she saw Theo, his face
full of grime and face streaked with
blood. "Potter!" Theo yelled, stumbling
up to them when he saw the Trio.
"Voldemort's here - " Harry's eyes
widened, and so did Ron's and
Hermione's. " - along with the rest of his
army. It's time. Come on!"
Harry and Ron immediately followed
Theo, surging frantically through the
crowd to face off Voldemort, but
Hermione faltered when she heard a
sharp scream in the distance.
"Draco!" It was Pansy who had yelled a
warning. "Watch out!"
Hermione's head whipped round, her
eyes barely latching onto the blonde
wizard before she watched as a spell
slammed right into him. She felt her
heart plummet when he was flung far
across the Courtyard, the force of it
exploding towards everyone who stood
in the way, until he was a convoluting
mess on the rubble, barely able to drag
himself back onto his feet.
"Draco," the whisper was a painful
breath on Hermione's tongue, and it was
agonising. Like something had been
ripped out of her chest and she was left
empty, bereft, without.
Bellatrix was cackling wildly as she
stood in the middle of the battlefield,
delighted at the spell she had blasted at
her nephew. "One down," Hermione
heard Bellatrix say, as she advanced
towards Pansy and Ginny, a grin playing
on her lips. "Two to go!"
True to her reputation, Bellatrix was
every bit the lethal duellist everyone
knew she was. Pansy and Ginny were
bloody and barely surviving, but hardly
anyone else dared to join in the fight,
because she flung away any outsiders
just as quickly as they stepped towards
her.
Hermione reached into her satchel, her
fingers latching around the Cloak of
Invisibility and pulled it on without a
second thought. She swiftly headed
towards Bellatrix as spells whizzed past
her and she remained unscathed under
the Cloak, her eyes focused on the battle
a good distance away from her. Bellatrix
was chuckling as the three girls missed
their target again and again and again,
and with a wave of her wand, she sent
Pansy slamming back against the ground
several feet away.
"Two down!" Bellatrix sang, as Ginny
let out a furious cry. "Two to go - "
"Levicorpus!" Luna was firing a spell at
her, only to have it easily deflected,
while Ginny shot another futile one.
"Stupefy!"
"Is that the best you can do?" Bellatrix
laughed, shaking her head at the two
girls. "How disappointing. Now you,"
she deflected Luna's hex and directed
her wand at the blonde witch. "Maybe
after this, you'll really belong to St.
Mungo's. Crucio!"
Luna was slow to evade and dropped to
her knees, doubling up in sheer agony.
Somewhere in the distance, Hermione
heard Theo frantically shout Luna's
name, and then he was pushing his way
through the crowd in an effort to get to
her.
"And as for you - " Bellatrix smiled
widely as she turned to Ginny, the last
one standing. Hermione had almost
reached Bellatrix and she was praying
that Ginny could hold her own until she
got there. " - blood-traitor! How many
Weasleys do you think will be left once
this battle is over?"
Ginny was shaking with fury as she
faced Bellatrix. "Stupefy!"
"You and the rest of your family will go
out with a bang. Avada Kedavra!"
There was a chorus of gasps as
Bellatrix's voice rung clear and loud
amidst the chaos. Ginny had escaped the
killing curse by a hairsbreadth, scraping
her knees terribly in the process. There
was a loud scream as Molly Weasley
shoved her way through the crowd, her
face a vibrant red that matched her hair.
"Not my daughter, you bitch!" Molly
shrieked, flinging a fierce spell at
Bellatrix. Several people stepped
forward to help her, but she waved them
away. "Stand back! She's mine!"
"Oh, now Mummy's joined the fight too!"
Bellatrix cried in delight, "how
wonderful!"
Hermione watched as Harry ran over to
help Ginny up, pulling her and several
others away from the line of fire. But she
advanced steadily, heart thrumming in
her ears and wand tight in her grasp.
"You will not hurt my family again!"
Molly said determinedly, hammering
Bellatrix with a series of blasting spells
that the other witch easily deflected.
Hermione was forced to use a Protego to
protect herself from being flung back by
the strength of Molly's magic.
"We'll see about that." Bellatrix returned
ominously, her black eyes flashing with
thinly-veiled amusement. "Avada Keda -
"
But Molly hit her square in the chest
before she could finish the spell. It was
a spell that Hermione hadn't ever seen
before - it turned her to stone, her face
draining of all colour and her twisted
robes curled and unmoving. Bellatrix
wasn't even breathing; her eyes were
wide and frozen, but completely devoid
of emotion.
Hermione took the last step closer,
simultaneously throwing the Cloak off
her as she directed her wand at
Bellatrix's back. She remembered a
conversation from a long time ago, about
how the war had torn Andromeda's
family apart, how Nymphadora had died
by Bellatrix's hand, and so had Theo's
father, and countless other people. How
Draco and so many others wanted that
golden opportunity to kill the woman
who had caused nothing but bloodshed
her entire life.
Now here she was, standing mere inches
away. And Hermione realised that she
couldn't let Theo, or Draco, or Molly
Weasley, or anyone else in the world
add more red to their ledger for someone
who wasn't even worth it.
So add it to her own.
It was that thought alone that enabled her
to whisper a single incantation under her
breath. "Reducto."
And Bellatrix Lestrange splintered into a
million fragments.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Everything else had drowned out when

Draco's gaze had locked with
Voldemort's.
There was nothing else he could hear -
not the screams, not the flurry of spells,
not the blasts of explosions. All he heard
was his mother's voice ringing in his
ears:
I made my choice. I'm afraid, but this is
what I have to do.
He knew that he needed to face off
Voldemort, if it meant buying time for
Theo to find Harry. Only Harry could
end this. But he needed to keep
Voldemort distracted in the meantime, so
that no one else would die by his hand.
The people around him were still
fighting off the new wave of Death-
Eaters that had arrived, but he could feel
various frightened glances cast his way.
McGonagall was nearby duelling two
Death-Eaters, watching Draco from the
corner of her eyes in evident concern. So
was Ron and his brother George, as they
battled several Death-Eaters with other
members of the Order.
Dragging in every bit of his strength, he
pulled himself up, spitting out a mouthful
of blood and mindlessly mumbling a
healing spell under his breath to snap his
wrist back into place. Then he turned to
face Voldemort, his jaw clenched and
shoulders squared.
"Draco." Voldemort's voice was
chilling. His eyes were narrowed in
serpentine slits, his face a greyish-pale
that made him seem devoid of life, his
skin almost translucent in the early rays
of sunlight. "We meet again."
Draco smirked briefly, ignoring the
blood that dribbled down his chin.
"Missed me?"
"I must say I'm impressed. You've
actually managed to deceive me for
years. If you hadn't been so careless
about attacking the Ministry, I never
would've suspected you."
"You're getting sloppy, my lord," Draco
sneered, bracing himself when
Voldemort's thin lips pursed in evident
fury. A terrifying green light flew straight
at him as Voldemort fired a killing curse.
But Draco had pre-empted it and spun
out of the way in good time, his smirk
widening as he escaped unscathed.
"You're really getting sloppy."
"I see you've gotten rid of that curse in
your arm," Voldemort remarked, calmly
firing more spells, forcing Draco to
throw himself on the ground in a frenzied
attempt to avoid them.
Ignoring his bloody palms and gaping
wounds, Draco cast a swift glance
around - where the hell was Potter? -
before climbing to his feet again. "Oh,
yeah. That was a splendid connection
we shared, by the way. Really felt your
love for a moment there - "
He was cut off when Voldemort fired
another barrage of spells at him. This
time, a Dark spell caught him right in the
stomach, and Draco felt two of his ribs
crack with an excruciating snap. There
were gasps from the onlookers, and
some of them stepped forward to help -
Ron included, but a wide-ranged spell
from Voldemort blasted them back.
Then the spells abruptly stopped, and he
struggled to catch his breath while
Voldemort watched him with evident
satisfaction in his agony. "Just like your
father," Voldemort's voice was eerily
calm. "Weak. That's why I had to kill
him."
His words kicked the air out of Draco's
lungs. "What?"
"Lucius was a disgrace on the
battlefield. I knew his allegiance never
fully lay with me - not even when he had
killed your mother in front of me. So I
had to get rid of him - the both of you -
on a particular mission. The only reason
why I kept you alive was because I
thought you had managed to cut off any
weak emotions you felt for your parents.
Evidently, I was wrong - "
"Confringo!" Draco yelled, cutting him
off mid-speech with a powerful blast.
The blood was roaring in his ears and he
felt a searing, blinding hatred for the
man standing in front of him. Both his
parents - dead. By this man's hands.
Onlookers be damned, Draco dragged
himself up and fired another curse at
him.
"You're a disappointment." Voldemort
deflected his curse, sending another one
back at him. "Weak." Another curse.
"Pathetic." And another, and finally sent
Draco tumbling back onto the ground. "I
turned you into a lethal weapon, Draco,
and you can't even utter a simple killing
curse. Finishing you off would be so
easy - "
Voldemort drew back his wand and sent
another blinding Dark spell whizzing
towards him, and Draco braced himself,
too weak to deflect anything else.
"Protego Totalum!"
The spell crashed in a blistering light
against the powerful protective shield
that someone cast over him. Hermione.
He recognised her voice no matter
where she was, but when he feebly
raised his head to look for her, she was
nowhere in sight.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. With
another silent spell, Draco heard
Hermione scream as she was flung
several feet away from him. She
collapsed in a bloody heap, the Cloak of
Invisibility falling off, making her
vulnerable to his next attack.
"Hermione!" Her name was ripped from
Draco's throat as he watched several
people hurry towards her, her figure
small and frail and distant, too far for
him to reach.
And Merlin, he was terrified.
This was what fear really felt like. It
was having Hermione Granger, the one
person that mattered the most to him,
being taken away. It was watching her
struggle to inhale a next breath that
would or would not come. It was
reaching out for her, his fingers clawing
against the rubble beneath him as he
tried to drag himself over, knowing all
the while that he could never reach her
in time.
"Love makes people weak," Voldemort
said simply, turning away from Draco
and taking a step towards Hermione,
who was hastily being dragged away by
Ron. "Avada - "
"Riddle!"
Harry's voice was a furious roar above
the frightened screams and muffled
whimpers of the crowd. The crowd
instinctively parted for him. Harry's eyes
were flashing in anger as he held his
wand out, his gaze darting first to
Hermione's battered form and then to
Draco's bloodied one. His jaw clenched
in determination, shoulders squaring
with a kind of bravery that he never once
lacked.
"Ah, Harry Potter." Voldemort's thin lips
curved as he saw his old nemesis stand
in front of him once again. "Have you
come to be defeated by my hand once
more?"
"It's just you and me again, Riddle,"
Harry said calmly, but only those who
knew him well could hear the slight
tremble in his voice. "And this time, the
war will end at your demise."
Voldemort seemed amused as he circled
Harry, like a predator eyeing its prey,
ever ready to pounce and rip to shreds.
The crowd was deathly silent - Death-
Eaters and Order members and
Rebellion alike were all watching the
exchange with breathless fixation. Draco
felt Theo haul him over where Blaise
and Pansy were. Opposite, Hermione
was leaning tiredly against McGonagall,
with Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville and the
rest of the D.A. members. There was
nothing but the sound of Harry and
Voldemort's voices as they spoke, the
scuffing of rubble beneath their feet and
the timid whimper of the wind.
"Tell me, boy," Voldemort's voice was a
vacant sort of quiet, the kind that sent
shivers down one's spine. "How will
you attempt to end me this time?"
"You're all alone, Riddle," said Harry.
"Your army is outnumbered. Blaise
Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore
Nott have left your army to join the side
of light. Your top Death-Eater, Draco
Malfoy, has played you like a fool - "
Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously at
that, but Harry calmly continued. " -
Bellatrix Lestrange is dead. And the
Death-Eaters you've trusted the most
have been plotting against you for three
years."
A ripple of surprise swept through the
crowd at Harry's words. Even
Voldemort looked momentarily
surprised, and Harry's gaze sharpened as
he noticed the fleeting second of human
emotion in the other man.
"Shall I spell it out for you, Riddle?"
Harry took a step forward. "For three
years, a group called the Peverells have
been searching for the Deathly Hallows.
They found the Resurrection Stone. They
almost stole the Cloak of Invisibility.
And the last - the Elder Wand - was
never far. I believe it's in your hands as
we speak. They would've killed you
eventually, Riddle, to gain Mastery of
the Elder Wand."
Voldemort's snake-like eyes swept
across the crowd in search for his
traitors and, after a few seconds, landed
on a tall man standing at the edge of the
crowd. The last member of the
Peverells. Antonin Dolohov paled as his
eyes met Voldemort's, and then he was
wrenching away, almost tripping over
himself in an attempt to run.
Before anyone else could react, Draco
lifted his wand and sent a blasting spell
hurtling at Dolohov. The Death-Eater
slammed back against the wall as the
flames scorched his robes, before
collapsing in an unconscious heap on the
ground. He was promptly incarcerated
by Shacklebolt and several other
members of the Order.
Draco smirked when he noticed Harry's
amused gaze and Voldemort's angry one
on him. "You're welcome."
Harry shook his head in silent mirth and
turned back. "Do you see it now,
Riddle? You're all alone. With no
horcruxes left, you're just a man. You are
weak, just like the rest of us."
"We shall see about that," Voldemort
returned evenly, directing his wand at
Harry. "When you are lying a shattered
corpse on the floor, then we shall see
which of us wields more power. You
were fortunate to have people sacrifice
their lives for you three years ago, Harry
Potter. You were fortunate to have
survived. Not this time."
"That's where you're wrong," Harry said
simply. "Once again, you mistakenly
believe that you are the Master of the
Elder Wand."
Voldemort laughed; a distorted, inhuman
sound that terrified everyone around
him. "I believe that mistake was yours,
Harry Potter, you foolish boy."
"Yes, that was my mistake when I went
to fight you the first time," Harry's voice
was quiet now, a hushed mellow against
the echoes of Voldemort's grating
laughter. "You see - I thought that I was
the Master, and therefore, I thought there
was no reason for me to lose. I didn't
know that you had read my mind, and
had gotten Antonin Dolohov to disarm
me, before disarming him yourself so
that you could be its Master. But what
you didn't know was that Draco Malfoy
had disarmed Dolohov before you could.
The truth is - Draco Malfoy was the true
Master of the Elder Wand since the
previous battle, and he has remained the
Master ever since!"
A startled murmur rippled through the
crowd at Harry's revelation, and Draco
suddenly felt hundreds of eyes on him.
Voldemort's gaze was furious and
frightening, his silted nostrils flaring
with barely-concealed wrath, his lips
flattened in a vengeful line.
"But his Mastery has since ended,"
Harry's words sliced through the hushed
whispers, making everyone fall silent
once more. "Because I disarmed him
several hours ago. So it all comes down
to this - " his voice had dropped to a
whisper; only those close enough could
hear it. "I am the new Master of the
Elder Wand."
Voldemort did not wait one moment
longer. With a furious roar, he drew the
Elder Wand back, pointing it right at
Harry Potter. His stance was unrelenting,
eyes frigid with glacial fury as he
screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry held Narcissa
Malfoy's wand out to deflect the spell, a
newfound power surging within him as
his disarming spell collided with
Voldemort's killing curse.
The green and red jet of lights clashed in
a vibrant, terrifying display of magic.
The impact was drowning, the blast like
a cannon bang that reverberated across
the ruined walls. Draco found himself
instinctively putting up a wordless
shield to protect himself and the others
behind him from the frightful flares
emanating from the spells; while several
other people did the same to prevent
anyone else from getting hurt.
Then, amidst the whirl of golden flames
that exploded and enveloped them, the
green light abruptly ceased as the Elder
Wand flew out of Voldemort's hand and
towards Harry. Reaching out with one
swift hand, Harry caught the Elder Wand
deftly, just as Voldemort swayed on his
feet for a full second before falling
backwards. His thin, grotesque body
collapsed onto the floor, his slit-like
eyes vacant and empty, his skin
translucent with the pallid colour of
death in the early rising sun, his robes
fluttering about in the dry wind.
Tom Riddle was dead.
And Harry Potter had won.
The silence that followed was
deafening, as everyone stared at Harry
Potter, the Boy Who Lived, standing
several feet away from Voldemort's
corpse. Harry was breathing hard, his
eyes wide as he registered the magnitude
of what he had just done. He blinked,
and that action alone triggered the crowd
into action, a bubble of disbelief and
sheer happiness with the knowledge that
the war was finally over.
Hermione found herself wrenched
forward by Ron as he dragged her
towards Harry. Ginny was the first to
reach him, skipping over Voldemort's
corpse as she flung her arms around her
boyfriend. And then Ron was yelling
excitedly as he hugged Harry, and
Hermione was breathless with relieved
tears and smiles as she wrapped her
arms tightly around her friend.
The rest soon followed - D.A. members,
the Order, the Rebellion, friends, family,
complete strangers. There were
congratulatory pats and thankful yells
and ecstatic cheers, a wonderful medley
that Hermione simply couldn't get
enough of.
The war was over.
She was safe. Draco was safe. They
were all safe.
Safe.
Choking back a happy sob, she brushed
her hand across her teary cheeks and
lifted her head. She saw Draco standing
a good distance away from the rest, with
Blaise, Pansy and Theo beside him,
looking satisfied with the victory but
careful to stay apart from the
celebrations and overall merriment.
Across the crowd, above the noise,
Draco's gaze locked on hers. And she
smiled.
50 | reparo

50
reparo
Mends broken objects.

"Lumos."
A dim glow emanated from the tip of the
wand, bathing the room in a slow, warm
glow. Hermione dragged in a deep
breath and pulled herself upright,
blinking as her eyes adjusted to the
darkness in the room. She had awoken
just several minutes ago, with her heart
pounding, a scream lodged in her throat
and tears prickling the corners of her
eyes.
This wasn't anything new. She had
dreamed of the Peverells tonight - their
Death-Eater masks glinting in her
subconscious as they breathed down
Cruciatus curses on her. The nightmare
had triggered the pain so sharply she
swore she could almost feel it, feel all
the bruises and the aches and the gashes
on her skin. And Draco's voice as he
called out her name repeatedly in search
for her - it was a distant echo in her ears
now.
"The war's over," she whispered, her
words a tired rasp in the silence. "It's
over. I'm safe."
In the aftermath of the war, these words
had quickly become a mantra - not only
for her, but for everyone else. The rest of
17-65 had moved in, and Andromeda
was more than happy to clear out rooms
to accommodate everyone. Draco and
Theo had voiced the most complaints,
but the bottomline was that there was an
unvoiced agreement with all ten
members:
17-65 had fought the war together.
Now they were going to face the
aftermath together.
So in the days that followed, it wasn't an
uncommon sight to see each of them
facing their fears in different ways.
Neville breaking down in a fit of silent
tears as he rocked Teddy to sleep. Luna
sitting on the front steps staring blankly
at the night sky. Theo with a bottle of
Firewhisky in his hand as he paced the
porch. Pansy's werewolf form howling
up at the moon. Blaise whipping up
batch after batch of potions just to keep
his mind active. Ginny's screams that
could practically wake the whole
neighbourhood. Ron working off his
frustration by casting hex after hex on a
dummy. Harry's extended bouts of
silence where he locked himself in a
room for hours on end.
There were nights when Draco awoke
with the beginnings of the killing curse at
the tip of his tongue, and there were
other nights when she awoke with his
arm so tightly wound around her waist
she could barely breathe. There were
mornings when she found him by the
Pensieve, and there were other mornings
when he joined her in the shower.
Sometimes, in the haze of their post-
orgasmic bliss, she couldn't be sure if
the streaks across his cheeks were
rivulets of water or tears.
The war was over, but the ghosts were
still haunting.
And Hermione thought that they would
never quite fade away.
She glanced up when the door opened
with a creak. And then Draco was
stepping in, shutting the door gently. He
paused when he noticed her sitting up in
bed and, with a worried frown that
creased his forehead, he crossed the
room and settled down next to her.
"Nightmares?"
She hummed in acknowledgement and
kissed him back when he captured her
lips. His tongue delved into her mouth
with ease, slick and thrilling and
comforting all at once. His thumb came
up to brush the wayward teardrop that
had slid down her cheek, and she let out
a throaty whimper, sliding her fingers
into his soft blonde hair.
"The Peverells," she mumbled, after he
pulled back from her.
He nodded, and sponged gentle kisses
down the bridge of her nose. "They're
gone now."
"I know."
"You're safe."
"We're safe," she corrected, lifting her
palm to his cheek. "Did you use the
Pensieve?" Pain momentarily flashed in
his eyes, and she knew at once that he'd
seen her memories. The memories
belonging to the phial Pansy had made a
long time ago, containing all the details
of Hermione's years in captivity. Draco
had heard it all from Hermione, but it
was evident that seeing it was a different
matter altogether. "How were they?"
"Painful," he returned simply, "you're the
strongest person I know."
She smiled then, angling her head to
press a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you for
finding me."
"Thank you for not giving up on me," he
returned quietly, before pulling her back
down onto the bed with him, his arms
looping lazily around her waist. "Sleep,
Granger."
She turned off the light on the wand with
a wave of her hand, and shut her eyes,
lacing her fingers tight through his.
"Goodnight, Draco."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The Great Hall was a flurry of dust and

grime, a result of the repair work that
had been going on for the past few days.
Hermione watched as people, strangers
and familiar faces alike, cleared out the
filth from the place, swept out the
collected rubble and cemented the
dilapidated walls.
Andromeda was across the hall with
McGonagall, three other professors, and
several other people, their heads bent in
deep discussion, while Arthur Weasley
was giving out orders in a calm voice.
The remaining members of the D.A. sat
on the ground in a huddled circle, with
Teddy on Cho Chang's lap as she
cuddled the happy toddler.
Ginny stepped up next to Hermione,
shaking her head in slight wonder.
"Feels like a lifetime ago since I last
stepped into this Hall."
Hermione nodded in agreement, before
glancing over at Draco and Theo, who
were already striding halfway down the
hall in an arrogant fashion - a typical
gait that she vaguely recalled seeing
from Draco in the past - before
proceeding to search for something
amidst the arbitrary pile or rubble and
overturned tables.
"What the hell are they looking for?"
Ron asked in curiosity, as he watched
the two blast a pile of rubble away,
rummaging through broken pieces of
furniture beneath it.
"The Slytherin table," Hermione replied,
an amused smile curving her lips.
"Are you serious? How are they even
going to find it? There are about a dozen
tables here!"
Blaise chuckled as he stepped up next to
Hermione. "Draco had our table marked.
The usual bunch of us always hogged the
same table - no other Slytherin could sit
there without his permission."
"Bloody Malfoy always wanting his
bloody way," Ron mumbled beneath his
breath, as the rest of them laughed when
they overheard him.
After awhile, Draco was dragging Theo
back, a look of utter dismay on the
latter's face as they headed back to the
group. "It's gone!" The expression on
Theo's face was so mournful that
Hermione badly wanted to break out in
another fit of giggles. "Our table's gone!"
She sympathetically patted him on the
back, despite the fact that her lips were
twitching. Hagrid came in at that
moment, lugging a huge rectangular table
under his arm with ease, and he grinned
widely when he spotted the group.
"Have yer tried sittin' at this new one?"
"Who's it for, Hagrid?" asked Harry.
"For everyone, o' course. McGonagall's
new rule. No house separation, an'
anyone can sit anywhere they like."
He marched off happily, leaving a
surprised silence in his wake. "No!"
Theo gaped after him, an appalled look
on his face. Draco, Hermione noticed,
didn't look too happy either, but was
wise enough to keep his mouth shut.
"Are you saying that if there aren't
enough seats to go round, I might find
myself stuck with a Hufflepuff - or
worse, a Gryffindor?"
"Hey!" Ginny scowled half-heartedly.
"Five out of ten of us are Gryffindors!"
"Actually - " Pansy began wickedly, only
to have Theo shoot a frosty glare in her
direction as he clearly recalled the
Sorting Hat putting him into Gryffindor
the second time he wore it.
"Come on, Theo," Luna said cheerfully,
when the group slowly began to head
towards the table that Hagrid had placed
in the middle of the hall, leaving behind
Theo, who refused to budge. "Maybe
you can mark this table."
Theo was immediately convinced, and
quickly went along with her. The table
was still sandy with dust and Blaise
performed a quick Scourgify on it before
everyone took a seat. Hermione
automatically sat herself down next to
Draco, with Theo on his other side, and
Pansy and Blaise on her side. Harry was
directly opposite her, with Ginny and
Neville on his right, Ron and Luna on his
left.
"I think this is great," Neville sounded
pleased as he gazed around the hall with
evident satisfaction. "Maybe there'll be
far less house rivalry from now on."
"Don't count on it, Longbottom," Draco
deadpanned. "If I could scrape together a
Slytherin Quidditch team, we'd be
wiping the floor with your Gryffindor
arses before you can even spell
Quidditch."
"Is that a challenge, Malfoy?" Harry's
eyes had lit at the mention of Quidditch,
"because you're most definitely on."
"Deal. Granger, shake Potter's hand for
me."
The group laughed as Hermione rolled
her eyes and grasped Harry's hand in
place of Draco. They were still laughing
when a shadow fell upon the table, and
they glanced up, eyes widening when
they saw McGonagall approaching them.
"Professor!" Hermione greeted, with a
wide smile. She was the only one who
jumped up to hug McGonagall - even
Harry and Ron held back; and while the
new Headmistress of Hogwarts was
startled with her affectionate behaviour,
she looked rather pleased, returning
Hermione's hug briefly.
"It's lovely to see the lot of you getting
along so well," McGonagall said,
smiling pleasantly at the group,
purposely ignoring the doubtful coughs
from Ron and Theo. "But I've come to
talk to you about a separate matter -
regarding the reopening of Hogwarts."
"What is it, Professor?" Ginny asked
curiously.
"Well, as you know, Hogwarts will have
a new influx of students for the new
term. I've been more than impressed
with all of your skills and I'd be more
than happy to have some of you on board
as teachers for the new cohort."
Her words were met with a stunned
silence as each of them tried to register
the unexpected news. "Really?" Blaise
was the first to break the silence, a
frown creasing his forehead. "But none
of us have taken our NEWTS."
"I understand that. And if any of you
would be interested in sitting for your
NEWTS, the doors of Hogwarts will
always be open to you. But when it
comes to hiring new staff, Albus had
never used grade qualifications as a
yardstick, and I intend to do the same.
You've all proved your abilities on the
battlefield, and that's already a good-
enough indicator."
Blaise nodded in understanding, but the
sudden flicker of intrigue in his eyes was
telling, and McGonagall smiled when
she saw that the look on Pansy's face
matched his.
"Mr Zabini, I see that you and Ms
Parkinson are expressing some level of
interest in it. If you'd like to take me up
on my offer, do feel free to Owl me.
Hogwarts is acceptable of anyone and
everyone, even lycanthropes," she added
intuitively.
Pansy's stoic expression quickly
crumpled, and she gazed at McGonagall
with gratitude lacing her features.
"Professor - "
"One of the best Professors Hogwarts
ever had was a lycanthrope. I have no
doubt you will be a wonderful teacher
too," she smiled at Pansy, gently
reaching over to pat the girl on the arm,
before pulling back and nodding at
Blaise. "You too, Mr Zabini."
McGonagall left soon after, and Blaise
glanced round at the table. "Are the rest
of you going to take McGonagall up on
her offer?"
"I'm afraid not," Harry shook his head
almost reluctantly, with a shrug.
"Remember how Shacklebolt
approached all of us the other day about
the Auror programme at the new
Ministry? Ron and I were considering
saying yes."
"Yeah, me too," Neville chimed in.
"Same here," Theo added, before
scowling at the looks of surprise at his
unexpected response. "What, I can't be
an Auror?"
"Of course you can," Luna was the first
to chime in her support.
"You're going to be a great Auror,"
Hermione nodded in agreement,
followed by the rest at the table. It was
true - Theo didn't have the same strict
moral compass that Harry, Ron and
Neville possessed. But she knew that
this was what would make him different,
in the best way possible. She knew he
would uphold his own brand of justice,
risk his life for the people and things that
mattered.
Draco was the only one who didn't say a
word, but the brief pat on Theo's back
spoke louder than anything he could say,
and Theo knew that very well. "By the
way," Draco added, with a lazy smirk,
"you do know that you can't shag the
people you're assigned cases to, right,
Theo?"
"Are you fucking serious?" Theo yelped,
eyes rounding in obvious distress. He
clearly hadn't heard of this, but one look
around the table and he was relenting.
"Fine." He mumbled in resignation,
before nudging the blonde-haired witch
sitting opposite him. "What about you,
Luna? What're you planning to do after
this?"
"I don't know," Luna said breezily,
absentmindedly playing with her
Dirigible plum-earrings. "I'm thinking I
might go on a quest to find the Crumple-
Horned Snorkack."
"What the fuck is that?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm going to
find it." Theo's eyebrows knitted, but
when he wisely kept his mouth shut, she
smiled warmly at him before turning to
the red-head witch sitting several spots
away from her. "What about you,
Ginny?"
Ginny shrugged, smiling as she thought
about the future and the possibilities it
held. "Quidditch, probably. I've always
had an interest in that. But I'm keeping
my options open."
"That's good," Draco replied smoothly, a
wicked gleam in his eye. "You should
keep them open when you're considering
Potter as a relationship partner as well."
Unfazed, Harry simply shot him a calm
smile. "Hermione should do the same
too."
Hermione burst out laughing, hastily
slapping a hand over her mouth when
Draco turned to narrow his eyes at her.
Harry's words had made her laugh, but
there was no second-guessing her choice
or her relationship with Draco. He was
going nowhere, and neither was she.
"By the way, Hermione," Neville's voice
drew her back into the conversation,
"what're you and Malfoy planning to
do?"
"Are you going to Australia to find your
parents?" Ron asked curiously.
"That's - one of the things," she hedged,
falteringly, feeling Draco lace his fingers
through hers under the table. His touch
was instantly soothing, calming to her
skittish nerves. "Mostly, I just want to
see them. I want to know if they're well,
and I want to try to remember them. And
maybe, once I see them, I'll know what
to do next."
The others nodded in silent
understanding, before Pansy spoke. "And
you, Draco?"
His grip tightened on Hermione's
instinctively, and he paused, feeling her
fingers curl round his encouragingly. "I
might go back to Malfoy Manor," he said
at last, his voice quiet. "See if I can
salvage anything. Maybe put together
two graves for my parents."
"And I'm going with him," Hermione
said, noticing the way her friends visibly
jolted in surprise. Harry and Ron, in
particular, were stunned that she'd want
to set foot back in Malfoy Manor, but
what they didn't know was that she'd
willingly follow Draco to the ends of the
earth if she had to. "We're also thinking
of fixing the old apartment," she
continued, a fond smile curving her face
as she thought of all the months she spent
in that safe haven.
"If it's still there," Draco added, "and if
it can be fixed."
"You'd better have a room for your old
Aunt and Teddy," Andromeda's voice
made them whirl around in surprise. Her
face was bright, eyes twinkling merrily
as she swept past with Molly Weasley.
"After imposing on me for so long and
staying in my house, I think the favour
should be reciprocated."
"'Dromeda," Draco grey eyes were
serious, without a flicker of his usual
sardonic cynicism in them. "You and
Teddy can stay with us for as long as you
want. Permanently, even."
"We'd love to have you, 'Dromeda,"
Hermione said, with a smile.
"What about me?" demanded Theo,
looking excited about the prospect of
returning to the old house. "Am I going
to have a room at the apartment too?"
"For Salazar's sake," Draco swore under
his breath, as Pansy and Blaise quickly
chimed in eagerly with similar demands.
Chuckling, Andromeda swept off with
the other two ladies, her vivacious
laughter echoing down the Hall.
"It would be lovely," Luna agreed
merrily, "we could drink hot chocolate at
night - "
"Hot chocolate - " Draco's features
crumpled in disgust, "what the fuck,
Lovegood - "
"And have pancakes for breakfast
together in the morning!" Ginny drawled,
a wicked gleam in her eyes as she
noticed Draco's reaction, "brilliant idea,
Luna! I'm in."
"Weaselette, I swear - "
"If my girlfriend's in, I'm bunking with
her," Harry said determinedly, a
mischievous grin on his face as he
watched Draco slowly lose control of
the situation. "Ron? Neville? You guys
want a room too?"
Neville nodded swiftly, with a wide
smile. "Count me in."
"I think I'll bring George and Perce
along with me," Ron added smoothly,
trying to smother his laughter at Draco's
growing irritation. "And maybe even
Bill and Fleur and Charles - "
"No!" Draco growled, his patience
finally snapping. "We are not populating
the apartment with the entire fucking
generation of Weasleys! I'm drawing the
line there - apart from you and your
Weaselette sister, no other Weasel can
step foot in my apartment!"
His explosion was met with stifled
laughter from the rest. Hermione stared
up at him, a tiny smile on her face. "So
are you saying that Ron and Ginny can
stay with us if they wanted to?"
"No, Granger, I'm not saying that at all.
But I have a feeling that they and the rest
of these gits are going to show up at our
doorstep regardless of whether we have
a room for them or not."
Ron sniggered. "Is this your way of
saying yes, Malfoy?"
Draco glared and dragged out a lengthy
sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with
evident irritation, even though his lips
were twitching with vague amusement.
"It's going to be a fucking full-house
again, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes," Neville readily agreed, and
the rest quickly chimed in, the
conversation convoluting in a medley of
laughter and excited exchanges and
overall merriment, with Theo's repeated
interjections that he called dibs on his
old room, and Pansy and Blaise's
hurried exclamations that they didn't
want their room to be next to Theo's.
Hermione smiled as she gazed around
the table, feeling a warm glow of
contentment settling within her. Yes,
things were going well. They were all
moving on together.
Someday - not today, but someday, they
were all going to be okay.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Thestrals."
Hermione's voice was a quiet whisper in
the wind as she tugged at Draco. Bracing
his arms over the low wall of the
Viaduct, he followed the direction of her
finger, where it was pointed to
something in the far distance. Amidst the
misty winds and lush greenery, he could
make out a flock of black-winged horses
galloping across the moors. Their bodies
were skeletal, with reptilian features and
gaunt limbs, but despite the
grotesqueness of their figures, they
somehow looked magnificent.
"We can see them now," Hermione
continued, her voice so soft he had to
strain his ears to hear her. "Because
we've seen death."
Draco silently kept his gaze fixed on the
Thestrals, clenching his jaw as he
thought about all the deaths he'd seen and
all the deaths he'd caused. The guilt was
never going to go away and he had long
since resigned himself to the fact. He
was never going to be a good person, no
matter what Hermione believed.
But he thought that maybe, just maybe, he
could be a better one.
The sound of shoes scraping against
gravel broke the silence, and Draco felt
two people step up next to them. Harry
didn't seem at all surprised to see the
Thestrals, and Draco realised that he'd
probably seen them before. Ron, on the
other hand, looked almost awed to see
the creatures, his blue eyes wide as he
studied them intently.
"Frightening, isn't it?" Ron remarked at
last, shaking his head. "That we can see
them? I bet everyone who's been in this
war can."
"What's more frightening is that the war's
over and I still have to see your ugly
faces," Draco muttered, his lips curling
up in a smirk when Hermione elbowed
him. But really, it was Potter and the
Weasel. Insults were second nature when
it came to them.
Ron huffed. "Feeling's mutual, ferret."
"What're the two of you doing here?"
Hermione asked, eyeing her friends
curiously, but unlike him, she looked
genuinely pleased to see them. "I thought
you said you were going to fix the Grand
Staircase."
"Yeah, but I needed to give Malfoy this,"
Harry said, and held out a wand to
Draco. The wand was white, with
carvings on its side, an intricate,
delicate pattern that wound round the
length of it. It was the wand that Draco
had seen in Voldemort's possession for
three long years, but had never
personally wielded it before. "It's yours
if you want it."
Draco stared at it for a long moment,
before dragging his eyes up to meet
Harry's. "Why?"
"I've no use for it. I used it to fix my old
wand, and several other people's wands,
but there's nothing else I want from it. I
figured that since you kept it safe for
three years, you can continue to do so."
Slowly, tentatively, Draco took the wand
from Harry. It felt heavy in his hands,
even though he knew it weighed barely
anything at all, but the power it wielded
was immense. Taking a deep breath, he
tilted his arm, holding the Dark Mark
face up, and held the wand to it.
"Erado."
The spell did not take effect. And as he
dropped his arm back down to his side,
he felt a sinking, frustrated feeling well
within him. The past still stuck,
Voldemort's influence was still on him in
the form of a faded blemish.
"Draco," Hermione's voice was calm as
she took his hand. "We all have scars
from the war and they're never going
away."
She lifted her arm, showing him the
words engraved on her skin - it had not
disappeared even after Bellatrix's
demise. Then Ron was lifting his arm,
silently showing Draco the scarred
marks on his skin, like sleek, thin ropes
had branded themselves onto him and
were never going to go away. Finally,
Harry was pushing his hair out of his
eyes. The scratch of lightning was still
clear as ever, and Draco automatically
glared.
"Put that thing away, Potter, I've seen it
for seven years during Hogwarts and I
don't need to see it again."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, I was
just trying to make you feel better!"
"If you want to make me feel better, give
me back my mother's wand."
Harry let out a loud sigh but obliged,
reaching into his bag and placing
Narcissa Malfoy's wand in Draco's open
palm. Draco gripped this one tightly
now, swallowing hard and carefully
averting his eyes from Harry and Ron's
curious gazes. He pocketed his mother's
wand, before returning his attention to
the Elder Wand.
He didn't know what to do with it.
"Where's the Stone, by the way?" Ron
asked suddenly, as he turned to
Hermione.
She shrugged. "I lost it during the battle.
A bunch of Centaurs were rushing by to
help and I think they must've stomped it
to the ground, because I couldn't find it
after that."
"Pity."
"Not really. The Stone's frightfully
powerful, but resurrecting the dead
might bring about repercussions.
There're many people I'd like to bring
back from the dead - like Snape, or
Tonks, or Fred, or even Lucius and
Narcissa," she smiled when Draco met
her gaze. "But perhaps it's time to move
on and let the past stay in the past."
The other three fell silent as the let her
words sink in. And as Draco looked at
the Elder Wand in his hands, he suddenly
realised that he didn't want it. Didn't
need it. There were things that mattered
and he had them all - a future, his
friends, a family, Hermione.
Then there were things that didn't matter,
and the Elder Wand was one of them.
He held the wand up. It caught a glint of
sunlight, illuminating the Thestral-hair
core and the power surging within. Then,
right at the point where the light
refracted off it, he snapped the wand
cleanly into two. He heard Hermione's
surprised gasp and Ron's cry of
reluctance, but his head was pounding
with a newfound clarity as he stepped up
onto the ledge and hurled the pieces off
the Viaduct. The pieces disappeared into
the vast landscape below, too
fragmented, too nondescript for anyone
who found it to realise that what they
held was once a piece of the most
powerful object on this earth.
Ron's eyes were wide and tinged with a
slight dismay. "Malfoy, did you just - "
"I don't need it," Draco said simply,
feeling Hermione lace her fingers
through his, squeezing his hand tight. "I
have my own wand."
Ron still looked rather wistful as he
gazed out over the Viaduct, but Harry
shot Draco a fleeting glance of
understanding. Then Draco met
Hermione's gaze, and her smile was
brighter than the sun, the happiness that
emanated from her utterly infectious, like
a warm glow that surrounded everyone
who was within reach.
She pushed herself up on the tips of her
toes to press a brief kiss to his lips,
before reaching into her satchel.
"Harry," she said, as she drew out a
piece of fabric and held it out to him. "I
believe this is yours."
Harry hesitantly took the Cloak of
Invisibility, the final and only Deathly
Hallow that was still in existence.
"Don't you want it?"
Hermione shook her head. "It's yours.
And I don't need to hide under it
anymore."
"No more hiding," Draco agreed quietly,
watching the sunlight peek between the
trees and the Thestrals grazing in the
shadows. "We're safe now."
Finally.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

They were back where they first began.

Only now, it was an empty place filled
with rust and dust, broken wood and
glass, arbitrary pieces of furniture and
squalid walls. Hermione looked away
and turned to Draco, noticing how he
was watching the destroyed apartment
with a faint flicker of nostalgia and an
equally faint flicker of hope in his eyes.
She set her bag down, along with the red
telephone that Draco had nicked for her
from this apartment months ago, before
he destroyed everything in its wake.
When she looked up, his eyes were lit
with vague curiosity, frowning slightly
as he studied the telephone.
"You think we can get one of those TV
things?" He asked unexpectedly.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You do know
that's a muggle contraption, right?"
"It's a box that plays like a million
moving photographs, but with sound and
everything. We're getting one of those."
She smiled as she watched him fondly,
and when his gaze met hers, his eyes
reluctantly crinkled at the corners in a
faint smile as he reached down to press
his lips quickly against hers, stealing her
breath, before drawing away. She
watched him step into the empty house,
taking in the state of destruction around
him. Like so many other things,
destroying was so easy.
Putting it back together, piece by piece,
brick by brick - that was the difficult
part.
Distantly, Hermione thought about how
far she'd come since her capture. The
past three years now seemed so far
away, but the present was so surreal that
sometimes, she still couldn't quite make
sense of it. Sometimes, she was still
afraid. Of the present, of the future, and
of the other curveballs life could throw
her way. There were still nightmares,
there were still shadows, there was still
dark matter.
"Hermione," his voice broke her trend of
thought. She looked up when he stepped
close, intertwining his fingers with hers.
"Remember that spell I taught you?"
She looked at their intertwined hands
and smiled. Because at that moment, she
realised that it didn't matter. She had
him, with her, and everything else just
fell into place. "Yes," she said, reaching
for her wand in her pocket. "I
remember."
He did a quick demonstration to remind
her of the wand action, before pointing
to the rubble in the corner. "Ready?"
Hermione nodded and took a deep
breath, holding up her wand just as
Draco held up his.
"Reparo."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ F I N
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
afterword

F AQ

PE R S ONAL

Favourite chapter?
C25. There's something very heart-
warming but also bittersweet about that
chapter; and Draco kissing Hermione in
the middle of an empty, destroyed room
has got to be one of my favourite scenes
I've ever written.

Favourite house?
Slytherin [on Pottermore and at heart].
I've done multiple quizzes before and
Slytherin's mostly the house I get sorted
into, sometimes Ravenclaw.

Favourite spell?
Accio. I'd accio Tom Felton over to my
house anyday.

Favourite thing about Draconian?

17-65, period. I really enjoyed writing
about the camaraderie between the group
as well as the blurring of lines between
the houses because of a common cause.
My only wish was that Rowling had
created an important enough character
belonging to Hufflepuff within Harry's
circle of friends so that there'd be all
four houses included.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

S T O R Y- R E LAT E D

Does Hermione ever get her memories

back?
It's possible. As the effects of the
Cruciatus wear off with time, she might
just regain her memories eventually,
though it is unlikely that it would change
the dynamics of her relationship with
anyone, much less Draco.

Why doesn't the Golden Trio ever use

the Killing curse?
Simple - because it's canon. Nowhere in
the series does it state that Harry,
Hermione or Ron used the Avada to off
someone. And while this is dystopian
AU, I'd like to retain some of that
innocence and goodness in them.
Was Theo x Luna intended?
No, not until Theo made that Slytherin
hat for Luna. Every moment preceding
that was completely unintentional and
plenty other moments following that
were also unintentional. The only parts
where I did some minor switching of
names / vague teasing was -
[C37] when Luna healed Theo's wounds
(it was originally supposed to be
Hermione healing Theo)
[C41] when Theo helped Luna (it was
originally supposed to be Blaise helping
Luna)
[C49] when Luna was crucio'd by
Bellatrix and Theo ran over to her
[C50] every moment; if only to make
way for Dark Matter.
The wide variety of ship names for Theo
x Luna has always amused me, but I've
always referred to them as #Leo, for
simple reason - Luna is the moon, Theo
(Nott) is the night; and together, #Leo is
constellation.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

C HAPT E R - S PE C IF IC

32 | Why was Hermione re-sorted into

Ravenclaw?
This is actually based on canon. In the
HP series, Hermione actually had a
near-hatstall where the Sorting Hat
couldn't quite decide whether she
belonged to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.
Well, as we all know, the Hat does take
the student's personal preference into
consideration - I would think that pre-
Draconian, Hermione wanted nothing but
to be brave; in Draconian, however,
Hermione relies more on her wits to pull
through, hence Ravenclaw. The same
goes for Theo, bravery has become his
forte for the most part, hence Gryffindor.

48-49 | Who was supposed to die?

Two people.
1) Blaise
From the very beginning, Blaise was
supposed to die - he had the noblest
intentions with the least sense of self-
preservation. There're several parts of
Draconian that foreshadow this - one
very distinct one is where Blaise makes
Pansy promise to keep fighting even if he
doesn't make it to see the end [C14], and
I think Blaise's death would've really
been a tragedy for the three other
Slytherins and Hermione if it had
actually happened (not to mention that
Pansy would be alone, which will leave
space for potential Ron+Pansy moments
because I semi-ship).
2) Andromeda
Andromeda was supposed to die in the
final battle. That bit where Hermione
protects Draco from Voldemort's spell
[C49] was supposed to be something
Andromeda did, only it'd end in her
death. A part of me thought it'd be fitting
that Andromeda would die in the war the
way the rest of her family had, and it'd
be lovely to see Draco and Hermione
having to take care of Teddy.
Unfortunately, writing Draconian was
actually a lot of fun and I loved the
characters dearly, which made it
absolutely impossible to kill any
important character off. In retrospect,
this doesn't make for very realistic
writing but - well, aren't you glad that
none of them died?

49 | Why was Hermione the one to kill

Bellatrix?
This is somewhat based on the movie.
I've always found Bellatrix's death to be
one of the most intriguing - you actually
don't know what Dark curse Molly hit
her with, but the end result practically
disintegrates her to pieces, much like an
actual Reducto. So I followed canon for
the Molly VS Bellatrix battle, until the
very end, where Hermione was the one
to splinter Bellatrix into fragments.
Why Hermione? Well, back when Draco
told Theo to "get in line" if he wanted to
kill Bellatrix [C29], their motives in
wanting to off her were skewed with
pure vengeance blinding them. And I
realised that there were actually only
two people who truly deserved to kill
Bellatrix - not because of revenge, but
because there would be an incredible
amount of poetic justice if they did:
1) Andromeda, because her daughter
Nymphadora died by Bellatrix's hand
and 2) Hermione, because of the
torturing she had to endure at the Malfoy
Manor.
However, Andromeda didn't take part in
the final battle, and so it had to be
Hermione. And I found it very fitting
that, among the lot, Hermione was the
only one who had no wish to actually
kill anybody, not even Bellatrix, but did
it so that no one else would have to add
more red to their ledger.
49 | Why was the battle between Harry
and Voldemort so anti-climatic?
It may seem anti-climatic action-wise.
But Harry defeated Voldemort the same
way in the books. It's so canon that I
chose to end it the same way.
But this final battle scene in Draconian
has a lot of significance. Amidst all the
twists and turns, all the years spent
building up to this pivotal moment, all
the people who sacrificed their lives
during the war; it only required a few
seconds of courage, Narcissa Malfoy's
wand and one Expelliarmus to defeat
Voldemort.
And it mirrors reality perfectly, I think.
In every war, in every confrontation, the
evil always seems like such a daunting,
menacing threat. But take away all the
forces supporting that threat and there's
just that one person you have to fight.

50 | What's up the epilogue?

The epilogue actually sticks as close to
canon as possible.
In the series, Harry, Ron and Neville
join the Auror programme; although Ron
later leaves to continue Weasley's
Wizard Wheezes with George, and
Neville becomes a Herbology professor
at Hogwarts. Ginny goes into quidditch,
while Luna becomes a naturalist.
In Draconian, those five make plans
according to canon, while I rearranged
the Slytherins + Hermione's futures
accordingly to the spin-off. For instance,
Theo becomes an Auror so that the
aftermath of the war, especially the
struggles of the Ministry as well as the
fate of the Death-Eaters, can be further
explored in Dark Matter.
But more information about that can be
found below.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

S E Q UE L/ S P I N O F F S

Sequel
There will be no sequels to Draconian.
Draco and Hermione's story are
complete and I think that the epilogue
was a good enough place to end at.

Spin-Off
DAR KMAT T E R
Dark Matter is the official spin-off to
Draconian. It takes place 6 months after
the events of Draconian; and features
Theo x Luna as protagonists; with Theo
especially being far closer to hp-canon
than he was in this book.
To read Dark Matter, simply visit my
profile and click on the link.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Any other questions? Please post them

here!