It was half past midnight at Malfoy Manor, and Draco had only just gotten settled into his king sized bed when he heard a scratching on his window.

"Bloody bird.." Draco grumbled as he reluctantly climbed out of bed and walked to the source of the rather irritating noise.

He flung the window open with unneccisary force, hoping that he would possibly injure whatever owl that dared to disturb him at such a late hour. But the sight of the owl in question caused him to gasp in shock. It had blood red eyes that reminded him all too much of Voldemort's, and had feathers more black than the night itself.

After further examination, he noticed a letter attatched to the bird's claws. He quickly snatched the letter from the bird, afraid that if he took too long, it would peck his eyes out or something.

After he opened it and began to examine the contents, another gasp escaped his lips as the blood drained from his face. For this was no ordinary letter. It was, in fact, a letter that spelled out a misserable fate for the blonde boy:

Dearest Draco,

This upcoming school term, you will be attending a deatheater camp. Your father has convinced Dumbledore that he will be pulling you out of Hogwarts to do homeschooling. I strongly advise that you be very wary of telling anyone outside of my command about the camp. If you go against these orders, both you and your family will be severely punished.

-Voldemort

The very first sentence of this letter was enough to cause Draco to go into a full blown panic attack. And by the time he had finished reading, he had somehow managed to make his way to the nearest toilet to violently empty the contents of his stomach.

This was by far the absolute worst case scenerio for the younger deatheaters. He knew all too well the horrors that such a camp would bring. He would be forced to kill, rape, and torture muggles and blood traitors alike. He would be put through training so harsh that he may not even survive himself.

Whatever kind of sick karma this was, he would not have it.

Those were his final thoughts as he fell unconscious onto the floor of his master bathroom.

At twelve thirty in the morning, around the same time Draco had received his dooms day letter, you could find Hermione Granger sitting at a lamp-lit desk with a copy of "Advanced Potions, Volume Three", several rolls of parchment, and a self inking quill. She had been there for no less than five hours, scribbling away, with a towering pile of books and crumpled up parchment next to her chair.

Five massive essays, three tediously detailed charts, six take-home exams, no less than 200 questions each, and seven monsterous study guides. All of which were due at the beginning of the school year.

'I knew I should have started this earlier...' She grumbled internally to herself as she looked at the small dent made in the gigantic pile of uncompleted assignments.

This was going to be a long night.

Draco was awoken the following morning to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes. He was tucked neatly in his bed, much to his confusion.

"Must have been the elves." He presumed with a small yawn as he stood up and began preparing for the day.

He was much more level headed this morning. Figuring that constant panic would just hold him back from overcoming his problems, he began to calmly think out a strategy on how to deal with the conflict at hand. This was very unlike his usual rash way of thinking, he guessed that he was acting like that because of the graveness of the situation.

As he continued to contemplate to himself, he changed into a fresh pair of robes and headed downstairs to the diningroom for breakfast.

He found his mother already sitting at the table when he arrived, she looked awfully pale, as if she were to pass out any second.

"What's wrong mum?" He asked her as he sat down next to her, piling his plate with food.

"I'm sure you know full well what is wrong, Draco dear. We were informed by the Dark Lord that you are to be attending.." She choked on her words as tears began to stream down her face. "..A death eater camp."

He stiffened up at the words, but took a deep breath and looked into his mother's eyes as he gently wiped away her tears. He had always cared deeply for his mother, though he acted like an ungratefull twit at times, there was not a person in the world that he loved more.

"It will be okay, mum. I promise." He assured her over and over as she cried, the both of them no longer bothering with their breakfast.

After his mother had calmed down, he stood up from the dining room table and headed back upstairs to his room.

Hermione, at that time, could be found sleeping with her head rested on a half written essay at her desk. Ink splotches on her face and hair a complete mess. she had only fallen asleep a couple of hours prior, and wasn't ready to wake at any point in the near future. But regardless of her unconscious wishes, her alarm clock began buzzing loudly in her ear, causing her to wake with a start, nearly falling out of her chair as she dumped her open bottle of ink over, which coated the pages of her essay in progress.

She was not usually the clumbsy type, but after days on end with only a few hours of sleep, she could no longer controle her jumpy nature.

Yes, she was ever so slightly obsessive about her wizardry schooling, but lately, she had taken it to the next level, constantly studying and training herself after the news of Voldemort's return from Harry at the Tri Wizards Tournament. The entirety of her summer consisted of nothing but spells, potions, books, and the like.

This would usually not be allowed outside of Hogwarts, but thanks to Dumbledore's power as a higher up, he gave her specialized permission to practice magic, as long as she did not leave the house with it.

She heaved a great sigh as she began groggily cleaning up the mess. Throwing away the now ruined essay and wiping up the spilt ink. After a few moments of scrubbing, she managed to rescue her multitude of ink splatered items from being permanently stained. Only to realize afterwards that she could have saved a ton of effort by just cleaning it with magic.

Mentally scolding herself for being so air headed, she drug her feet to the bathroom with a fresh pair of clothes.

Draco sat in his room in silence for what felt like hours, racking his brain on every possible option he could find that might be able to get him out of this.

The majority of the people he knew were either already affiliated with the Dark Lord, or hated his guts.

'Damn, karma is really kicking my arse.' He thought to himself scornfully.

Nothing he thought of would be able to help him, nothing except one possible thing. A thing that he would never have imagined doing in the entirety of his existance. That thing would be the very decision that would change his life forever.

'Hermione Granger'

He hated the idea. Absolutely loathed it. But it was either the stuck up mudblood, or the noseless mass murderer. And he sure as Hell wasn't about to go for the latter option. That would be downright suicide.

Grumbling to himself, he began to pack his bags as he mentally put together his thoughts on how exactly he was going to explain, or rather, beg her to take him in.

But he knew she would accept his pleads regardless of her hatred. Her sense of justice went through the roof.

Once he finished packing his things, He headed downstairs to his father's study, and knocked on the door.

"Enter." He heard the drawling voice of his father grant him access.

"What is it, Draco? I've warned you many times in the past not to interrupt my work." The man asked him, annoyance lacing his voice.

"I was wondering if I could go to Blaize's house for the remainder of the holiday." Draco explained calmly. He was use to his fathers bad attitude, and it no longer phased him.

Lucius glanced up from his heap of work to give Draco a studying glance.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. He is also going to be attending the camp over the year. So it would be good to collaborate." He gave a dismissing nod and Draco left the room, feeling victorious.

Now it was just a matter of getting to her house, wherever it was.. and convincing her.

Night had finally fallen after a long day of study, and Hermione had decided to allow herself to take an early night for the first time in weeks and get some much needed sleep.

Her parents had just left for a holiday for the remainder of the summer, so she was home alone when she heard a familiar popping sound outside of her house.

'Probably just hearing things.' She concluded as she turned over in her bed and shut her eyes.

Just as she was about to doze off, she heard a knocking on her door and groaned loudly.

She jumped out of bed and stomped down the stairway leading to the main room, then flung the door open, putting on her best 'How can I help you' face to try and cover up her extreme annoyance. Though her expression immidiately fell when she saw who it was standing at the entrance, packed bags and all.

"MALFOY?!"

Draco flinched slightly at her unwelcoming screech. But quickly composed himself and looked her straight in the eyes.

"May I come in? Please, Granger, at least give me a chance to explain things before you throw me to the streets." He asked her, gripping the handles on his luggage unneccisarrily tight.

She stood in a mixed state of confusion and annoyance, but then nodded and reluctantly let him in.

"You have 10 minutes. This better be good." She snapped at him as she made her way to the livingroom couch.

"More than enough." Draco said, struggling to hold back his usual temper with the way she was acting.

'Swallow your pride, Draco.' He gave himself a quick mental pep talk as he followed her closely behind and welcomed himself to the seating across from her. Which, he noted, was much less comfortable than his own. But what else would you expect from mudbloods?

"Listen, I need your help, it is a life or death situation, for more than just myself." He explained, trying to beat around the bush.

Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, and he sighed, averting his gaze.

'All or nothing.' He decided to just spit it out, time was wasting.

"This year, my father is pulling me out of Hogwarts and I'm being sent to a deatheaters camp under the Dark Lord's orders. There I will most likely be forced to kill, rape, and torture mudb- I mean, muggles, and undergo training so harsh that I may not even survive myself. I need your help. You are the only one I could think of that would be willing to help me. I don't care what you have to do. As long as it works."

Hermione seemed more than shocked at his words, and he decided that she needed more proof to beleive him. So he pulled out the final stop and lifted up his sleeve, revealing the newly imprinted Dark Mark.

"I got the news a week after getting this. Please, Granger. Help me." He began getting desperate and frantic, worrying that he misjudged the situation.

Hermione felt very faint after undergoing one shock after another. First Draco shows up at her house, then gives her this outrageous story, and now he is showing her his dark mark. She was usually very good at judging people, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that for once, he was not lying.

"Fine. Take the guest room. I'll be sending a letter to Dumbledore to ask for assistance. And don't try anything funny." She nodded, pulling out a peice of parchment and a quill and starting to scribble a rather lengthy letter addressed to their elder headmaster.

Little did she know, that this would be the turning point of both of their lives.

TO BE CONTINUED