Chapter 01

The sharp tick-tock of the Dursley's new Grandfather clock echoed through his mind. It was the forth night in a row Harry Potter couldn't fall asleep. Ever since he had come back from the Burrow after the first week of summer, sleep failed him.

It was partly due to his inability to let his mind rest, and partly due to the fact that every noise was unsettling to him. He had just until his 17th birthday till he could safely escape this hell the Dursley's called a home for good. But every moment not spent looking for the Horcruxes was another moment longer that Voldemort gained support. Another moment where their chances of defeating him grew slimmer.

His only hope was that while he was here, the Order grew stronger. But he knew nothing of what was going on exactly with the Order, because letters could be interrupted, and so no Order business ever went through the air. The only letters he received were from Ron and Hermione, who kept him updated on their day-to-day lives.

Hermione had not gone home after term, a move that even Ron and Harry were surprised about. She instead turned up at the Weasley's front door the day after they had parted from Kings Cross Station. She told them it was because she didn't know how to say goodbye to her family. Because she didn't know how they could let her go, or how she would want to go if they begged her to stay. "It is less pain on everyone this way," she had told them.

So Ron and Hermione were with the Order, being productive, while Harry was on Private Drive doing nothing. Not that it wasn't vital for Harry to be here, because it was. According to Dumbledore's last wishes, it was one of the most important things.

The rest of the Weasley's were also helping Harry out. Fred and George were sending cash to help fund the Order's efforts. Charlie and Bill both were on field work, but Harry had bigger plans for them once he was able to contact them safely.

Ginny was helping by just staying out of his way. If he didn't see her, didn't hear from her, then he didn't think of her…as often. She still was deeply imbedded in his thoughts, and it was all he could do at times to not lose his mind completely over her.

Harry emptied his mind of thoughts again. Trying to think of nothing. But everything kept rushing back.

His scar ached, but he ignored it, it was all it ever did any more. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his green eyes tightly closed.

The clock chimed and he heard the rough muffled footsteps of his Uncle making his way down the stairs. Harry frowned; since when had his uncle ever woken at four in the morning before? Or better yet, when had he woken at four and tried to be so quiet about it?

Harry swung his feet over the side of his bed, his too-big pajamas nearly coming down with him. He quickly tied up the drawstrings as he quietly got up. Leaning close to his door, he slowly turned the handle and pushed it open. To his surprise, there to greet him was the purple face of his uncle, bat in hand and squinting eyes. The look of pure rage that only his uncle could muster.

The last thing Harry remembered was a sharp pain to the top of his skull, and everything turning black.

---

Hermione sighed and slammed her book shut, a puff of dust billowing out. "I told you, Ron! We're in a war. I don't have time to figure out if I have feelings for anyone, let alone you."

Ron's face turned a deep shade of red, both from embarrassment and anger. "I guess that's easy for you to say. Just ignoring everyone's feelings including your own!"

"Oh please." Hermione sighed, stood up, and left the room without another word.

About a week ago, Ron had confessed that he thought he was in love with her. The boy that she had been in love with for quite a long time was in love with her, that should have meant that they could both be together, be happy. But they couldn't, not according to Hermione they couldn't.

For one, Hermione knew it was a time of war, and like Harry, she knew that anyone you got emotionally entangled with in that kind of relationship at this point in time, it could only lead to disaster and pain. It was unlikely for them to survive the war, or at least, both of them to. She didn't want to get hurt in that way, or for him to ever lose her. It would be hard enough with the relationship that they already had.

For another, that ship had sailed a long while back. She loved Ron, but she was not in love with him anymore, as that silly saying went. But she knew Ron was in love with her, and she didn't believe she could want him the same way he wanted her and that mattered in a relationship. She had found that after the jealousy of seeing him with Lavender had passed, she could never see herself with him. They just didn't click, as her father would say.

Hermione sighed again, and sat down on her bed inside the Burrow. She locked her door with a wave of her wand, and then collapsed on her back, thinking back to how he had told her.

They were in the process of finishing their first letters of the summer to Harry. She had been at the Burrow nearly two weeks, but it felt like a much longer time. She was weary and exhausted mentally, caused by her grief of leaving her parents without a goodbye.

She was near tears again, though she demanded herself not to. The Weasley's were all out except for Ginny, who was locked away in her room. She hadn't been out much since they had come home.

"Hermione," Ron said, pulling her back into reality.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly, brushing away a tear that had leaked out. "I'm fine. Is your letter done?"

"You're not fine, you're crying, what's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong, Ron?" she huffed, and immediately she was sorry, she knew he was only trying to help.

"I mean…I know what's wrong, but…"

"But what?" she said, annoyance in her tone.

There was a moment of silence. She could feel Ron's eyes on her, she took hers off of her letter to look at him, and her stomach dropped. She knew immediately what he was going to say before he even said it.

"Hermione, I think I love you."

She stared at him for a moment, tilted her head to the side.

She had not been prepared for this. Not at all.

Ron sat, staring at her, waiting for a response.

"I think that you don't know what you're talking about, and we better get these letters to Pig before he knocks himself out again from excitement."

"No - but, wait. Hermione-"

"Ron, really, this isn't the time, nor does it really matter. Maybe when this war is over it might. But right now, we have enough on our plates. Give me your letter."

He had tried to protest after that, but she just silenced him by ignoring him, that was until today when she had snapped again.

A soft knock came at her door.

"Hermione?" it was Charlie's voice.

"Come in," she said, and quickly unlocked her door with her wand.

He opened the door and stepped inside, followed closely by Bill, his face vaguely scarred from the attack.

"We think we managed to nab one of the spies, he's being held at head quarters for questioning," Bill told her.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Do you want me to go down there?"

"Yes, we're going to head over to headquarters too," Charlie said gently. "Grab Ron and Ginny if you'd like and head over with us in about five."

Since the Weasley's had all been busy, the questioning of suspects or known Death Eaters had been Hermione's and Ron's job since Harry had left at the beginning of the summer. She was pleased to do it, and both Charlie and Bill were always satisfied with her findings when she gave them her synopsis.

"Okay," she said. "But, can I do this one alone? If you think I'm ready I mean. I've done pretty well so far, and Ron and Ginny don't do much other than give the suspect's death glares."

"That's fine, Hermione," Bill said with a nod. "Just be careful. And I'm going to let Ron know where you went. He'll be up there in a half hour to check on you, though I'm sure nobody will be able to get past Mad-eye and Remus, along with a half dozen other guards and magic spells, but we can never be too safe."

"Okay," Hermione said.

"We'll see you at Headquarters then," Bill said, starting for the door.

"Good luck with this one. He doesn't seem to want to talk much," Charlie warned.

"I'll get him to talk," Hermione said pretending to be unconcerned. "Don't worry about it."

Charlie gave her a soft smile and the two filed out the door. Hermione breathed in heavily and sat for a moment.

It scared her every time she stepped into an interrogating room. But it had to be done, and she couldn't do it with Ron around, not this time. And Ginny wasn't of any help. She had to do this one on her own.

---

Everything was silent. Harry slowly slid into consciousness, his head throbbing with pain and his breathing unsteady. He was tied onto an antique chair with magical ropes that gripped him around his ankles and wrists.

He blinked to adjust to the light. To his surprise, he found he had his glasses on, and slowly he came to see his surroundings. He was in a dungeon. Jars of pickled animals were hanging from the ceiling. There was a single light hanging from above him, and on either side of him he could barely make out antique chairs with someone chained and a single light hanging above them.

He opened his mouth to speak but found he could not. He began to struggle against the ropes. It was a futile struggle, and he finally gave up. Sitting in darkness and quiet. It was unnerving, the air almost below freezing, and no ventilation. It seemed almost haunted.

"Good evening," said a soft sad voice, scaring Harry.

Harry gave a silent yell and swiveled his head in search for the source.

The voice got stronger. "Tell me, Potter, who would you save?"

Harry heard struggling coming from the chair to his left, the voice however came from in front of him.

"The love of your life, your worst enemy, or your worst enemies love?" A tiny, almost ironic laugh escaped the unknown person.

Harry frowned, the voice was chillingly familiar…but it couldn't be.

"See, to most the answer would be obvious."

The voice drew nearer.

"You would save your love and you would leave your enemy to die. It's a win-win situation. And everyone get what they deserve." A black outline of a figure came into focus.

"But not when your enemy is the only one who can save us all."

A pale, blonde boy turned on the light above Harry, Draco Malfoy, starring at him with the saddest and cruelest gray eyes he had ever seen.

"Tell me Potter, who would you save?"

---

A/N:

Please R&R, tell me what you think of it so far. Thanks.