Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

Chapter One

"Spare the children!" a man's voice begged as he lay face down on the floor of his own lavish and book-filled study.

The man towering above him was cloaked in black, and his deep voice, when he spoke, was cold and intimidating. "Your whole family will suffer for your betrayal," he told the terrified man.

The room was filled with shocking green light as the frightening man screamed a deadly curse into the quiet night.

---

Hundreds of miles away, Draco Malfoy was walking around in his large manor.

He paced the length of his ornately decorated green and black bedroom several times then looked out the window. He repeated this again, pacing the bedroom and then looking out his large, round window.

Draco Malfoy was waiting for his father to arrive home. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had broken free from Azkaban prison just hours before.

He scowled as his mind trailed to how he had learned of the prison break. The Evening Prophet sat open upon his desk, the headline reading "All Hell Breaks Loose" (a good title if Draco ever saw one). Apparently, his father broke loose along with the rest of the Prisoners that Azkaban held.

Of course, he was not anxious to see his father, he was anxious to be hearing news of his next mission, which he knew his father would report to him.

There was no doubt in Draco's mind that his father had not first visited the Dark Lord to get his own orders.

He broke out nine hours ago, be patient, he told himself over and over again. He stopped pacing as he heard the creak of the front gate, for his ears were listening for any sound. His heart raced as he quickly ran out of his room to greet his father.

---

Several hours after it was late in the morning. The sky was not cloudless, but the sun shown brightly as Draco walked down a narrow cobblestone street, causing dots in Draco's eyes.

Bloody sun! He thought as he hurried down the street, his destination growing ever closer with every step he took. Abruptly, he stopped.

This is it. The alleyway to the side of him was just as his father had described: dark, narrow and full of scum. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then he turned into the narrow alleyway.

The sun would have been a great help in this alley. Some feet away, his target lay slumped against the wall, sleeping peacefully.

This is my mission, he thought as his picked up the frail person in his arms. She is my mission.

Her brown head bobbed as he walked back down the empty cobblestone road.

He glanced around as he approached the door from which he had exited from barely an hour earlier.

Once inside, he was greeted with glares from the surly looking men sitting at a card table inside.

"Back already?" one with graying hair asked gruffly.

Draco nodded. "Not the toughest mission, especially since I have no clue what the Dark Lord would want with a Mudblood."

The man shrugged, eyes returning to his hand full of cards. "Probably just bored; needs to have some fun."

Draco nodded again while he headed for the back room.

The Dark Lord definitely doesn't want her for a tea party and a chat about elf-rights, Draco thought, laying her sleeping body on an old, beat-up couch.

---

Hermione Granger woke from a nightmare, a cold sweat running from her forehead. She sat up, realizing she was someplace unrecognizable. The couch she was laying on was comfortable, but that didn't help to suppress her fear.

She looked around; the room was dark and dingy and reminded her of a cheap hotel she had stayed in just a week earlier.

The fire place was lit, but Hermione couldn't feel the warmth from it.

She stood up; ignoring the head rush she received. She looked around again, trying to find any clue of where she was or how she got there.

"Finally awake?" a familiar drawl came from behind her. Hermione turned around, but couldn't see anyone.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows.

"Surprised to see me?"

Her eyes widened. This couldn't be happening! Not to her! She had been trying to get away from something like this!

"What am I doing here?" she asked, trying to act as calm as she could, but could not stop the tremble in her voice.

"Not to worry," the young man said, a noticeable smirk spreading over his face. "You are my first completed mission."

Hermione's eyes widened again. "Mission?"

Another smirk went across his face. "Of course, you don't think that I'd have actually touched you out of my own accord, do you? I'd do anything my master asks of me," he added when she raised an eyebrow.

"So your mission was to stop me from running away?"

"Why would we care whether or not you ran away?" Malfoy asked her incredulously. "We have other plans for you."

"And those are?" she asked.

Hermione saw something flicker across his face before he answered, "I do as He says without question."

She smirked now. "Not high enough on the food chain yet?"

"At least I'm higher than worms, beetles and Mudbloods."

The door to Hermione's left suddenly opened and in walked Lucius Malfoy. His presence seemed to send a chill through Hermione as he sauntered past her.

"Good job, Draco," his cold voice said with pride to his son.

"It wasn't exactly hard finding her and bringing her about a mile back here," Malfoy said resentfully.

"A mission is better than no mission," Lucius told him in what he must of thought a wise voice. He then turned to face Hermione, looking her up and down, smirking. "Look what the street has done to you."

It was true that she didn't look that good: her hair was pulled back, but clearly bushy, her clothes were baggy and in need of a wash, while her once-white trainers were worn and covered in dirt.

"You would have done better staying with the Weasleys, and that's saying something," remarked Lucius. He turned back to Malfoy. "Take her back to the manor and get her showered, give her clean clothes, feed her, and let her get some rest in one of the guest houses."

Malfoy looked taken back by the request. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me," Lucius said, leaving the room.

Malfoy rounded on Hermione, grabbing her upper arm.

"Let's go," he said, forcefully pulling her out the door his father had just exited.

Hermione had the urge to fight him off, but was too weak. Without Malfoy pulling her, she doubt she would have been able to walk by herself without stumbling. She wanted to pull away and Apparate back home, but her feet refused to stop and she couldn't concentrate on just one thing. Her mind was full of what she was doing, where she might be going, who she was with. She felt as if her mind had been scrambled over the past few weeks, and that she was no longer the know-it-all bookworm. Hell, the last time she had opened a book was at Hogwarts. Hermione definitely didn't feel like herself anymore.

Once outside the building, Malfoy turned to Hermione.

"Hold on to my arm tight," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was making such an odd request.

He rolled his eyes. "Side-Along Apparation," he informed her impatiently.

Hermione cast her eyes downwards as a blush fell across her face, she should have guessed. She grabbed his arm and closed her eyes as the familiar feelings of Apparation swept over her.

Stumbling slightly, Hermione released her grip on Malfoy, only to have him take hold of her upper arm again.

He pulled her quickly down another, and much larger, cobblestone road. Hermione looked in the direction they were going and saw a large gate, with an even larger house behind it.

"Wait!" Hermione said; gathering her strength and pulling her arm out of his, coming to an abrupt halt.

He turned around and rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Why are we going there? Why am I a part of this?" she asked.

"I really don't know," Malfoy said sourly. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. You are my mission; you're not going to ruin this one."

Hermione raised her eyebrow for the third time. "You're saying that like I ruined your last mission."

"Maybe you did," he mumbled as he grabbed her arm again.

From a distance, Malfoy Manor had seemed nice, but up close, once past the gate, it was foreboding. Hermione noted that the gate and fence had looked broken. As soon as she passed the gate, she noticed the whole entire house looked derelict.

"Is there anyone--?"

"Malfoy Manor is located at 700 High Haven Road in Wiltshire, England," he said to her in a hushed tone. Suddenly, the house before her changed its appearance drastically: rose bushes suddenly started to grow in the front as the house before her repaired itself automatically.

"Catching flies?"

Hermione closed her mouth, which she hadn't notice fall open in awe.

Before Malfoy and she stood the most beautiful house she had ever seen.

"This still does not explain why I am here," said Hermione as Malfoy dragged her into the house.

He released her arm as he closed the door behind them.

"I don't know why!" he resentfully explained again.

"This is the exact reason why I was running away!" she told him. "I was trying to-"

"Save yourself?" he asked, smirking again. "That's a very Slytherin thing to do."

"I was trying to not get involved! I don't want to be part of a war! I don't want to see the people I love get killed," she insisted, tears starting to fill her brown eyes.

"A little late for not getting involved," he remarked, now rolling his eyes at her sensitivity.

Tears started to pour slowly from her eyes. Malfoy rolled his eyes again and retrieved a handkerchief from his back pocket.

She looked at it suspiciously for a second, but took it and wiped her eyes.

"Keep it," he told her, "I wouldn't want something touched by a Mudblood." He then inclined his head in the direction of a staircase. "We have to go this way now."

"Why haven't you tried to kill me yet?" she asked as they climbed the spiral staircase. "I have no wand, so I wouldn't exactly be a challenge."

"My instructions were to get you," he answered. "Then, as you heard, my father has told me to get you back in good condition. Why?" Malfoy asked as he saw Hermione raise her eyebrow again. "I have no idea."

Hermione followed him down a long hallway.

If only she hadn't been almost desperate for help from someone, she would refuse to move. If only she had her wand, she'd be out of this mess.

If only she hadn't run away.

Emotion swept over Hermione again as they turned down another hallway. Malfoy stopped abruptly, causing Hermione to run into him.

He didn't seem to notice as he unlocked a door with an intricately designed key, Hermione could swear she saw a flicker of a smile.

No, her mind told her. Malfoys don't smile. They only smirk. With their cruel, evil hearts they'd never be able to smile.

Malfoy pushed her into the room, quickly shutting the door behind him and locking it.

"This is my bedroom," he informed her, turning the overhead light on. "I would bring you to a guest room and leave you there, but I know you," he stared at her pointedly, "and I know you would try to run."

Malfoy pointed towards a door at the other end of the room. "That's the bathroom," he explained. "Towels are in the closet. Once you get washed up I'll give you clean clothes."

Hermione nodded meekly and walked into the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she looked around desperately for a window.

Sighing, she realized defeat. She would have to get out as soon as possible, but, since they seemed to have no intention of hurting her, she would take this opportunity to get a shower, eat, and sleep in a warm bed.

The memory of the day she left replayed in her mind as the hot water ran over her body…

"What are you running from, Hermione?" Harry asked calmly, sitting at the kitchen table as she tried to sneak out with her trunk floating behind her.

She turned her head to him, not having noticed him sitting there in the dim light. "I can't do any of this anymore," she answered quietly.

"Exactly what can't you do?" he questioned as his eyes narrowed threateningly. "You're not the one who has the choice of killing or being killed. You're not the one that seems to cause death and destruction where ever you go. You're not the one that everyone is counting on. Please, enlighten me as to what you can't do."

"This is what," she told him, "I can't deal with all this pain. I can't deal with death and destruction. I know I said I would be there for you, but I can't. I'm leaving."

Harry stood quickly, knocking his chair down in the process. "You can't go."

Hermione walked towards the door. "Too bad, because I am."

His green eyes suddenly filled with envy. "I wish I could be you."

She nodded, whispered her goodbye, and left.

Tears mixed with the water as she ran her fingers through her wet hair.

Ever since the day they left Hogwarts, Hermione had felt as if she had just been gliding through life numb, over-aware of what was going on around her, but never able to do something.

She turned the faucet off once she had finished, and wrapped a towel around herself, wringing the water out of her hair and into the sink.

Hermione wiped the steam off of the mirror in front of her. Her skin was considerably pale, and her eyes had bags around them. The curly brown hair she had was longer than ever now, barely a foot above her waist. The color had grown darker, no more highlights from being in the sun.

There was a knock on the door, and before she could react, the door behind her flung open. Draco Malfoy strutted into the bathroom, carrying a pile of clothes in his hands.

"What if I still hadn't had my towel on?" she asked as he shoved the clothes into her hands.

"Well, I guess I would have seen you without a towel on then," he answered snidely.

Hermione sighed angrily, looking through the clothes he handed her. "I believe you're missing something."

He raised an eyebrow.

"A bra."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, like you need one."

"For your information--"

"I am not your damn maid!"

"Well, that seems to be your mission, getting me to feel better, correct?" said Hermione, attempting to make Malfoy as uncomfortable as possible. "I would feel so much better if I had a bra."

"Those in your hands are my mother's clothes," he notified her, "You should just be happy that I spared something for you."

She looked at the clothes again. "These are small."

"You are small."

"I don't like wearing tight clothing."

"Deal with it."

"I will go to your father and tell him you're not--"

He ripped the clothes out of her hands. "Fine! I'll find you different and larger clothing. Happy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and held out her hand, sighing as loud as she could. "I'll wear these," she said.

He handed her the clothing again ("Good girl," he had said.) and left Hermione in the bathroom to change.

She grimaced as she looked through the clothes again. The apparel in her hands were her size and fit perfectly, she had just wanted to make Malfoy's 'mission' difficult.

Reluctantly, and with the hopes of being able to eat, Hermione dressed quickly.

Hermione's attempts at making Malfoy uncomfortable with the whole bra thing didn't work, and she secretly agreed that she didn't need one.

She looked in the mirror once she had dressed. He had given her dinner clothes, and made Hermione look paler than usual. The black v-neck shirt and the gray skirt made Hermione feel as if she were going to a funeral. Besides the shortness of the skirt, she felt very dressed up.

Trying to make the skirt go a little closer to her knee, Hermione exited the bathroom.

"It took you long enough," Malfoy said irritably. His eyes looked her over. "Would you like a hairbrush?"

Hermione's hand subconsciously went to the top of her head. "If you don't mind," she said, smiling sheepishly.

He clicked his tongue impatiently, taking out his wand. "This way is easier."

Malfoy flicked his wand at Hermione before she could act. She felt her hair pull itself into a tight knot at the top of her head.

"We are going to go to the dining room for dinner," he informed her as he led her back through the hallways. "With my mother," he added, his voice sounding suggestive, although Hermione couldn't figure what he was actually suggesting.

Hermione looked Malfoy over as she walked behind him. He seemed to have changed into black dress robes.

A sudden thought struck Hermione. "Why does your mother own Muggle clothing?" she asked, reminded that she was, in fact, dressed in Muggle attire at the present time.

"Although we do not like to," said Malfoy, "we do meet and have dinner with Muggles occasionally. Of course, only with Muggles in high society, like the Prime Minister and--"

"You have eaten dinner with the Prime Minister?"

Even though Hermione was walking behind Malfoy, she knew he was now smirking smugly.

"When you have high political influence in one society, it is easy to gain influence in another."

"I doubt you have very much political influence now, with your father and you being fugitives."

"I was cleared of all charges," he said, turning right sharply. "And I didn't do anything."

"You're a Death Eater."

He stopped, rounded on her, and pointed a finger at himself. "I'm not the one who killed Dumbledore, Professor Snape did. I was holding my wand to Dumbledore, and I couldn't do it."

Hermione looked up at the lean blonde in front of her. His gray eyes held no warmth as she searched for something in them, only sadness.

"You're still a Death Eater," she said coldly.

He shook his head and turned back around to continue walking. "Yeah, whose first mission is to make a homeless Mudblood comfortable."

An image of hurting Malfoy came into Hermione's mind and she grinned fiendishly.

She walked closer to Malfoy, until she was barely a foot away from running into him. She made a quick step and pushed her foot down on the back of Malfoy's shoe. His heel came up out of the shoe as he stepped forward, falling face down on the ground.

Malfoy turned his head to look up at Hermione as his hair fell messily around his face, cursing loudly. His eyes glared spitefully as he stood up and brushed himself off. He ran his hand through his hair as his jaw clenched.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he asked, his voice growing louder with each word.

Hermione couldn't stifle her laughter. Soon, she was clutching a stitch in her side, tears from laughter filling her eyes.

She could barely hear Malfoy repeating "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" over her laughter.

Finally, she was able to suppress her laughter down to a few giggles.

"Done?" Malfoy asked with annoyance.

Hermione sighed, concealing her giggles. "I guess."

He shook his head. "You will regret doing that one day."

"But until that day, I will laugh when reminded I did that."

He huffed loudly but didn't reply.

They arrived in the large dining room five minutes before dinner was to be served. Hermione looked around in marvel at the painted, high ceiling.

Malfoy sat down as if it were no big deal.

He probably doesn't appreciate something so nice, Hermione thought to herself as she also sat down, one seat separating them.

The door behind them opened, and in came Narcissa Malfoy. Dressed in all black and a sour smile on her face, Hermione got the sudden feeling that Narcissa was like Professor McGonnagall, and was not a woman to cross paths with when angry. Her light blue eyes landed on Hermione, and she seemed to restrain herself from commenting. Hermione felt as if she looked like someone else she had once seen, and realized that, other than seeing Narcissa once at the Quidditch World Cup, she had not seen her another time. Then she remembered something she had seen two summers before.

"You're Bellatrix's sister!" Hermione said out loud. Narcissa, whom had sat down while Hermione was musing, turned her head and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"Great observational skills," she said, and then looked back at Malfoy. "Why exactly is she here again?"

Hermione could see a slight flush rise up in Malfoy's face before answering, "I don't know, Mother."

"Well, it had better not be for long," she gave a disdainful look at Hermione, "We don't need Mudbloods defiling everything within this house."

"Just pretend I'm not here!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"That's what I was trying to do."

"I want to be here as much as you want me here," she told Narcissa. "I would love to go home, but Annoying Malfoy Number Two says it's his 'mission' and he has to 'obey orders'."

"'Annoying Malfoy Number Two'?" asked Narcissa.

"Your husband would be Annoying Malfoy Number One," said Hermione.

"We are letting you stay in our house--!"

"Against my will--"

"You will treat me with respect--"

"Yet again against my will--"

"Will you two shut it!" said Annoying Malfoy Number Two.

Both their heads snapped to look at the aggravated blonde.

"She has to stay, Mother," he said, "Deal with it."

Narcissa sighed loudly, and then turned her attention to the table, which she stared at until dinner arrived.

Hermione ate voraciously, even with the deadly stares she was getting from Malfoy.

"This is good," Hermione commented conversationally, feeling very much like Ron at the moment.

"Yes, the house-elves do make a good dinner occasionally," Narcissa said.

Hermione suddenly lost her appetite and pushed her plate away from herself. "House-elves?"

"Of course," said Malfoy, "You don't think we make this ourselves, do you?"

"I figured you had a cook or a chef."

"You figured wrong."

Hermione stood hastily. "I'll be leaving now," she informed them, leaving the room as quickly as she could, not waiting to seek their approval.

She was walking up the elegant spiral staircase when Malfoy grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her around to face him.

"I know you don't want to be here," he hissed, "and I don't want you here either. But don't, don't you dare go and insult my mother. She has been through a lot and is only going along with this because she has to. So I am asking you not to bother her. I'm not demanding this, just simply requesting. And if you do as I ask, I promise that I will tell you why you are here once I know."

Hermione cocked her eyebrow. "Why would you do that?" she asked skeptically.

"Because my mother has enough problems without you in her life," answered Malfoy scornfully. "Now," he continued, sighing resignedly, "I am going to bring you back to my room, and you can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

Hermione nodded and followed Malfoy reluctantly. They walked to the large bedroom silently.

As Malfoy opened the door, Hermione told him "I really hate you," before pushing past him and into the room.

---

Lucius Malfoy walked leisurely down a brightly lit hallway. He had just talked to the Dark Lord, and was now planning on talking with his son.

The morning air crept in through the open windows as he continued to his destination, pulling his cloak tighter around him. It may have been the summer, but mornings were bone chilling in England.

He slowly came to a stop as he approached the door to Draco's bedroom. Bunching his hand into a fist, he knocked on the door four times.

He heard grumbling, recognizing it as Draco, and the door swung open. Draco was rubbing his eyes, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"Yes father?" he asked sleepily.

"I came to you inform you that I want both of you to report to my office at noon." He then added, "For a chat over lunch."

Draco nodded, than closed the door without another word.

Lucius looked down at his watch. He had over three hours to complete one more mission for his master before he embarked on this personal operation.

---

Draco grumbled and turned over again. He never realized how uncomfortable his couch was.

He gave in and sat up. He looked over at Granger's sleeping figure in his bed.

Why had he even let her sleep in his bed? Why hadn't he forced her onto the couch?

He sighed, she had won by beating him down with a pillow. Not a friendly whack, no, but about a hundred hard, forceful and angry whacks on the head.

And with his own pillow!

He rubbed his head, scowling at the memory.

Standing up, he headed directly for his dresser and grabbed a change of clothes, then headed for the bathroom to take a very, very cold shower.

---

The morning went by fast as Draco sat at his desk, doing nothing in particular.

As it neared eleven-thirty, Draco contemplated whether to wake Granger up at all.

He now loomed above Granger, loudly sighing occasionally, hoping that she would just suddenly wake because of this.

It was now eleven-forty-five and Draco was becoming impatient. He knew she was probably going to want to take a shower or something like that.

Suddenly, and as loudly as he could, he screamed: "GRANGER WAKE UP!"

She jumped up and looked around, her eyes landed on Draco. Rolling her eyes, she grumbled, "And I thought my nightmare was over."

---

Malfoy rushed down an ornately decorated corridor, Hermione on his heels. She kept glancing around at the thousands of paintings lining the walls. She could tell they were all Malfoys due to the common characteristic of blonde hair and gray eyes.

As they neared the end of the corridor, her eyes fell upon a portrait of Abraxas Malfoy, whom Hermione knew to be Draco's grandfather, and who was pretending to sleep at the moment. Now that she thought about it, all the portraits had been pretending to sleep.

Suddenly, there were no more portraits.

"There needs to be space for the rest of the Malfoy line," Malfoy explained smugly. "And they are all "sleeping" because they want to make it seem as if they aren't going to be crowding into one of the studies portraits to listen to the "chat" my father wants to have."

Hermione nodded as Malfoy knocked on the large mahogany door in front of them. He knocked his fist four times against the door, and then it swung open.

Lucius Malfoy's eyes first descended upon Hermione, eyeing her like a lion would a piece of meat.

"You're just in time," he said.

Malfoy nodded, than jerked his head in Hermione's direction. "She refused to wake up, than tried to talk a very long time getting ready," said Malfoy half-truthfully.

In all truthfulness, Hermione would have gotten up earlier, if Malfoy had made an attempt to wake her. But, frankly, she had tried to take an extremely long time getting ready, making an effort not to be able to go. In the end, Malfoy had forced her to leave as she was in the middle of slowly, very slowly, applying her make-up ("One eyelash at a time?" he had asked her.).

They entered the study, and the elder Malfoy invited them to sit down in two chairs in front of his desk.

Little did Hermione and Malfoy know that the conversation they were about to have with Lucius Malfoy would change their lives... forever.

---

Author's Note: Songs lyrics that were originally in this chapter have been taken out. If you would like to know what they are, check my AIM profile for my MySpace link.

Leii.