Chapter One

In The Beginning

"You two will take care of yourselves, won't you?"

"We'll be at the Order, Hermione -"

She hushed Ron taking quick glimpses around the bustle of the train station to be sure that no one overheard. "Be careful!"

"We're safe there. Nothing can happen, and if it does we'll send word to you, no problem."

Harry nodded in agreement with him. "Don't worry so much. Have a good time with your parents in Italy, okay? Where are your parents?" He cast wandering eyes around.

"Um, late, I guess."

Breaking from Fred, George and Ginny Mrs. Weasley came up to them, a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Are you sure you don't want us to stay here until they come?"

"I'm sure," she said hastily. They couldn't stay, they couldn't see where she was really going. They wouldn't understand.

"We can't leave you alone here, dear. It wouldn't be right, anything can happen these days."

She was right. They weren't going to leave. She peered at an elderly couple far away. She smiled. "I see them. Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley."

Her eyes narrowed skeptically, but her balding and exasperated husband tugged on her arm. "Come on, Molly. Hermione's never lied to us, she'll be fine. She has her wand on her and we need to go."

"Oh, okay. Keep in touch!"

"Every three days."

"Two days!"

"Two days," she promised and watched them leave through the crowd to the magically enhanced car. Mrs. Weasley glimpsed over her shoulder a couple of times, but Hermione had turned to give the illusion that she was walking towards her parents, but the moment they were gone she stopped near empty tracks.

She adjusted the straps on her brown pack and waited. The pseudo parents were greeting a little girl with golden pigtails happily. It caused a small aching in Hermione remembering the years that she ran up to her parents after being away at school. It was a wonderful reunion of excitement and joy, but she had no regrets.

That year - her Sixth Year at Hogwarts - she was going to have a different kind of holiday. She anxiously bounced in place for the boy she searched for, scanning the unfamiliar faces until settling on a pointed one, white-blond hair sweeping his stormy eyes. Her heart stopped, her breath froze, no long the puffs of smoke curling in front of her.

She ran, her pack jostling against her back until she was embracing Draco Malfoy, his dark musky scent filling her lungs. He hesitated only a second before wrapping his arms around her, the fringe of his hair brushing over her lashes as he bent to kiss her cheek.

"No problems," he asked in his drawling tone.

"None," she declared happily. "How about you?"

"Parents have officially vacated the mansion. They are in Rome as we speak, meeting up with their old friends."

She nodded, understanding "old friends" to be Death Eaters. That was one thing that was a wedge between them. Draco was the son of a Death Eater, he too was also one, the Dark Mark on his left forearm covered by his long sleeve. She was Harry Potter - the savior of the Wizarding world's - best friend, not to mention a muggle-born. She knew the relationship between her and Draco could not last until she convinced him to leave his family and to come with her, but that was a bridge to come to later. For then, it was the two of them, secretively and singularly each others.

He took her pack slinging it over his own shoulder as he took her hand. They began walking as he explained. "There's a nearby Wizarding pub. The owner is a friend of father's, and we can go straight home from the fireplace there."

"But Draco, didn't you say once that a muggle-born is noticeable?" She thought back to their Fourth Year at the Quidditch World Cup where he warned her. The place was overtaken by Voldemort's followers. It was one of the worst memories she carried, but it was part of being "The Chosen's" friend. They were constantly in danger, and since Voldemort had been brought back to life that year, they were in more danger than ever.

He didn't answer her and she didn't ask again. Regardless of the answer, she was safe with him. If Harry or Ron knew they'd strongly disagree, but it wasn't their choice to make.

Draco made her happy, she was good for him as he was good for her. Because of him she loosened up on following the rules, though Ron credited it to his behavior. For Draco, he lightened up on his bullying, he was a better man, but it was simply because he wanted to be.

It started a few months after the beginning of that year. He became sullen, quiet, and ceased his sick entertainment. Though many noticed, it was Hermione who decided to investigate, begging Harry to back off. Although it was going on deaf ears, she had to try. She couldn't be caught, not even by her best friend. He wouldn't understand. He would shoot before asking questions, and she... She knew that Draco didn't want to be who he was. He didn't want to do what he was doing.

One night in the library, whilst a storm broke outside, she told him she knew and cleverly dragged the truth out. He was nonetheless shocked, and was more so when he saw in her eyes (somehow) that she lied. He was right, she hadn't truthfully known, she used Harry's startling guess of him receiving the Dark Mark. However, instead of being angry with her, he admired her. With a heavy heart, he confessed to everything and asked her to keep his secret.

She promised to keep him safe in return that he try everything possible to keep everyone out of harms way. It was unlike Hermione, normally she would've gone to Dumbledore, but it was the one thing he was unwilling to do, and she couldn't force him. And yet, she couldn't leave him. Working together, it brought them closer. They found they were well suited for each other. No one would've believed her if she told them. Draco and her were fire and ice.

They left the train station traveling along the sidewalk, the cool breeze ruffling their hair. It was nice, to be out, to hold hands, and not worry about being seen. They were far past the danger of anyone spotting them. All of their school mates had gone home.

Soon they came upon an alleyway and he pulled her into it. In the shadows he drew up the hood of her black satin cloak, setting it low over her eyes. "Keep your face down and don't speak," he ordered gently, tugging on her wrist for her to trail behind him.

There was a small wooden door that imperceptibly creaked when opened. The noise of clinking glasses and clamorous laughter overrode it. It stunk with stale alcohol and hay. The straws crunched under her trainers. She remembered when he told her to keep her big, bushy head down. She wondered foolishly if any of the men surrounding them could smell her, like humans to lions.

"Mr. Malfoy," a screechy voice greeted. "Oh, are you bringing a friend?"

"It's only Theodore Nott, sir. He's coming over for a bit before going home."

"He looks a tad smaller..."

"A spell gone awry. You understand."

The man chuckled. "Oh yes, those days at Hogwarts. Getting good marks, have you? Your father was boasting in here last week about you!"

"I'm doing fine, sir."

"Good to hear. We don't want that mudblood friend of Potter's to get the best of you, now. Go on, I'm sure you want to unpack. Enjoy your vacation, Mr. Malfoy, you too, Mr. Nott."

Draco's tone was colder and shorter. "Thank you, sir."

Quicker than she could barely walk they turned to what was the fireplace she couldn't see beyond her hood. She knew so by the ashes coloring the worn floor. Tucked under his arm, he bellowed the Malfoy Manor, and in green flames, they churned, disappearing to his house, where she would be staying for two weeks.

Their Christmas vacation was about to begin.