A/N: the formatting is a little off since it's my first story, I don't know how to make the lines that go across the page, since apparently they didn't carry over from Word, so I've got no proper section breaks –shrug-

Love it? Hate it? Please let me know.

Disclaimer: As if I wrote Harry Potter.

It had started innocently enough, he supposed. It was the welcoming feast at the start of his 6th year at Hogwarts, and his mind had been a whirlwind. Everything he thought he knew had changed, and he had been asked – no, ordered – to do something he didn't know if he could do, or if he even wanted to do it. Sure, Dumbledore annoyed him, with his determination that blood purity didn't matter, and his inability to see Potter's flaws, but to actually kill someone? Draco didn't know if he had it in him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the man himself. As the plate before him magically cleared away the food he'd merely picked at, Dumbledore stood up to speak. Draco tried unsuccessfully to tune him out, but ended up hearing Dumbledore's speech anyway. It was something about magical cooperation being more important than ever, about friendships lasting an eternity, and about staying strong in the face of adversity.

Draco snorted. As if anyone could stay strong in his situation. He couldn't remember the last time that he slept for more than an hour or so, and his mind was never still. If anyone knew what thoughts occupied his mind, he would be even more of an outcast than he was now. He was already shunned by everyone but his house for being a pure blood Slytherin, and if anyone from his house knew how weak he was, they would shun him too. Draco had no-one. He realised Dumbledore was still droning on.

"And so, in an effort to encourage people to look past their apparent differences, and to see people for who they truly are – for whether you are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin, you will not be unaffected by this looming war – we are assigning each of you an anonymous pen pal. You will use code names, and you can tell each other only your gender and your year group. You will not discuss what house you are in, or what your blood status is. These blind people to the truly important things in life, and never have friendship and love been more important than they are now."

Rolling his eyes, he idly wondered who he would have to write to. Maybe he could ask them how to kill Dumbledore. There was nothing less important to him in the world than a pen pal, and so it was with reluctance that he grabbed the scrap of parchment that floated before him, watching his code name appear on it as though written by an invisible hand. Snitch. Hmm. Well he supposed he was a seeker. The scraps of parchment then flew from the hands of every student and became a writhing, whirling mass in the centre of the room, resembling a muggle curiosity he had once seen called a snow globe, before flying off to each student again, revealing to them who their pen pal was. Draco read the parchment in front of him, and then tucked it into his pocket. The parchment simply read Ehwaz. Whoever it was, he seriously doubted that Ehwaz would be of any help to him this year.

It was barely an hour later that he heard from Ehwaz.

Hello Snitch,

My name is Ehwaz. I'm a 6th year student, and I'm female. What year are you in? Feel free to write to me any time, and I'll do my best to write back quickly.

Regards,

Ehwaz.

Hey.

I'm a 6th year, and I'm a guy. We probably know each other. Don't worry about me writing to you again, this assignment is ridiculous. You won't be hearing from me anytime soon.

Snitch.

He had received another letter before he knew it, lecturing him about the importance of Dumbledore's speech and completing school assignments. Draco shrugged. Probably a nerdy Ravenclaw. He tossed the parchment in the fire and went back to brooding over Dumbledore.

Weeks passed, and Draco was still no nearer to deciding how to approach the situation. It was wearing him down, like a heavy backpack he couldn't remove. Nobody seemed to notice that he often skipped meals, or that his pale skin had lost what little colour it had. Lying in bed late one night, Draco's poor attempts at sleeping were interrupted by an owl at the window. His curiosity piqued, he let the owl in and took the parchment on her leg.

Hello Snitch,

I'm really sorry to bother you so late at night, and I know you don't really want to do this, but I can't sleep. Everything is getting to me. Every day I'm worried about the war, about losing people I love. I keep having nightmares that everyone I care about is dead, and I'm completely alone. I'm even starting to lose marks in class. If we ever get through this, we'll need our exams to get good jobs, secure futures. It seems like an endless loop of worry. I'm sorry, this is all out of the blue. My friends are burdened with all these worries of their own, and I feel I have to be strong for them, but I needed someone to confide in.

You must think I'm a lunatic. Still, writing this down has helped a little. I hope you're finding 6th year easier than I am,

Ehwaz.

Draco wasn't sure what he felt reading that message. He read it over twice more, a little bubble slowly inflating in his chest. Careful not to look too closely in case he burst it, Draco examined the bubble of emotion. Fly me to hell on a Hippogriff, he thought. The bubble was hope.

He wasn't exactly thrilled that Ehwaz was so upset, but the fact that there was someone else at Hogwarts losing sleep over the things to come made him feel less alone than he had felt in a long time. Draco decided he may as well confide something vague to Ehwaz; she may end up offering some good advice, all her letters so far stank of brains and wisdom. As long as he wasn't too specific, he could turn to someone when he felt low, without anyone ever knowing it was him. He wondered why he never thought of this himself.

Maybe Dumbledore had some good ideas once in a while, he thought as he dipped his quill into an inkpot and began to compose a reply.

Ehwaz,

You aren't alone. I feel the same. I can't remember the last time I could sleep, and sometimes my thoughts weigh so heavy on my mind I feel like I can barely stand up. Just remember that you don't always have to be strong. I've been hiding my emotions from my friends too, but we can be each others strength. Your letter made me feel like there's still some hope in the world. Hopefully this will reassure you too.

Yours, Snitch

Draco was shocked at all the emotion he showed, but he saw no reason to hide it, his usual shield would do him no good here. Ehwaz would never know he was Draco Malfoy. Satisfied he had written something that might be slightly comforting (comfort had never been his strong point), he returned to bed and imagined a girl lying awake in her Ravenclaw dormitory, receiving his letter and –the bubble inside him swelled at this thought- maybe smiling a little as she read his letter. Hopefully Ehwaz slept a

little sounder now. Draco reflected that it felt nice to do some good for a change.

Time soon sped up for Draco, he was put under increasing pressure from the Dark Lord and his teachers. His life had narrowed to the point where the only thoughts in his head were Dumbledore, schoolwork and Ehwaz. Ehwaz was the only bright spot in his life. They were soon writing each other daily letters, and Draco quickly became an addict, longing for the moment each day when her letter would arrive. It was comforting to read her words; she was an optimistic person on the whole, and only rarely needed Draco's reassurances. It was refreshing for Draco to be honest about himself; it had been a long time since he had truly shown himself to anyone. Sometimes Draco wondered if he was even honest with himself. Now, the anonymity of the letters and the code names was oddly freeing.

He still lived in fear of her finding out who he really was and turning on him, as her friends undoubtedly already hated him, as did the rest of the school. It was no secret his father was a death eater, and Draco himself had never been particularly nice to the rest of his peers. What little respect he had came from younger Slytherins, and respect born from fear is not the same as friendship. He had to laugh when he realised that Ehwaz was probably his only friend, and she didn't even know who he was.

Fragments of their conversations often replayed as he turned them over in his memory.

…What do you think it is that makes He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named so powerful?

His ability to blackmail and manipulate people. It must be horrible to be blackmailed by someone as powerful as he is.

Do you think that makes someone's actions excusable? There must always be another choice.

What would you do if someone threatened your family?

I'd do anything. Oh, Merlin! That must make me a horrible person. If he had my family, I'd do whatever he wanted to keep them safe.

You aren't horrible for loving your family.

This war needs to stop. Do you think it will ever end?

It will, don't worry. Nothing lasts forever…

Draco had no doubts that the war would end one day. He just doubted which side would win, and whether he would still be standing when the dust settled. Deep down, he knew which side he wanted to win, but he knew he could never admit that to a Slytherin, or to his family. He was relieved that Ehwaz said she'd do the same as him in his situation, even if he had been rather vague. Maybe if she ever found out, she could understand, just a little.

Talking to Ehwaz had revealed to Draco just how fragile he was when he stopped hiding behind his shield of arrogance and power. He thought she might also be strengthening him, each letter helped him feel a little stronger. If she never found out who he was, they could be friends for life, he mused.

The illusion of Ehwaz understanding, even a little, was shattered for Draco in the aftermath of his first attempt to kill Dumbledore. He felt awful for injuring the Gryffindor girl, although he was relieved he still hadn't become a killer. He was staring into the depths of the common room fire, telling himself the prickling sensation in his eyes came from sitting too close to the heat, and not from emotion, when a letter arrived. He read it as fast as he could, his eyes skimming the page, and when he was done he felt as though someone had burst the small, fragile bubble in his chest with a very sharp pin.

Ehwaz was devastated that a Hogwarts student had been attacked, and she used some colourful language in describing what she would like to do if she ever found the attacker. Draco had no idea how to respond. He couldn't confess it was him, she was the only positive thing in his life, and she struck him as the sort of person who would definitely run to a teacher with that sort of news. On the other hand, he hated the thought of lying to Ehwaz. He had never lied to her yet, only omitted the truth in places. It was a minor technicality, but Draco needed whatever redemption he could find for himself.

Many drafts of his reply were thrown into the fire before he finally settled on a response that didn't directly lie.

Ehwaz,

You keep telling me that you believe You-Know-Who won't win this war, you think Dumbledore and the Order will prevail. Don't lose hope because something bad happened. I think we should try not to judge the attacker too harshly, until we know why they did it. They may be evil, they may be under the Imperius curse, or they may have been blackmailed into it. At least the attack wasn't a fatal one.

It's ok,

Snitch x

As much as he told himself those 2 little intersecting lines after his name were a mistake, an almost dropped quill that left a trail of ink, he knew it was a kiss. He wanted to hold Ehwaz, whoever she was, and comfort her. More than that, he wanted to be held himself, by the one person who didn't hate him. A kiss seemed like the best thing he could do in a letter. Her response was swift and succinct.

Snitch, you always make me feel better. How do you always know what to say? If I were a seeker I would catch you and keep you close to me, so you were always there when I needed some of your golden light. Thank you.

Ehwaz x

He raised his eyebrows at the letter. Was he misreading the romantic undertone there? It was a swift change in pace from her previous message, but she had signed it with a kiss. Time to test the waters, so to speak.

Their friendly letters soon became more and more flirtatious, and Draco constantly reassured himself that it was harmless fun. Yet when he saw an owl arrive for him, Draco's heart beat fast for more than one reason. He told himself it was ridiculous, that he'd never even seen the girl, but still he couldn't help glancing round in his classes, wondering if Ehwaz was in the same room as him. He wondered what she looked like, but steered clear of a conversation that could lead them anywhere near identifying each other.

Draco wasn't sure how the other Slytherins would react to him spilling his soul to a stranger. He needn't have worried though. He wore secrecy like a second skin, and if anyone saw him send a private note they assumed it was to his father, or to the Dark Lord. He knew he didn't need to fear his letters to Ehwaz being read by Filch, none of the internal Hogwarts post was read. If the students wanted to plot something, they had better ways of doing it than by writing it down.

Once again, time flew by for Draco. He chose to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas when he found out that Ehwaz would be, he wanted to stay close to his friend, but he told his father and the Dark Lord it was to stay closer to Dumbledore. As Christmas drew closer, Draco found himself wondering if he should get Ehwaz a present. He wasn't planning on buying one for anyone else, but nobody else mattered to him the way she did. He was walking to the Three Broomsticks on the last weekend of term – he had something to discuss with Madam Rosmerta, however unpleasant that would turn out to be, when something in a shop window caught his eye. It was a woven bookmark, midnight blue threads with silver beads woven in to depict a crescent moon. He still didn't know for sure whether Ehwaz was in Ravenclaw or not, but it was a pretty bookmark, and he knew she read a lot regardless of which house she was in. His mind was made up. He walked in and bought the bookmark, and it raised his sprits slightly despite the grim task ahead.

Christmas morning arrived and Draco was awoken by an owl tapping against his window. It bore a letter from Ehwaz, and a box of white chocolate mice that squeaked at him as he opened it. He smiled, he had told Ehwaz only a few weeks ago that they were his favourite sweets. He read her letter, and quickly replied, making sure he enclosed the bookmark. The bubble in his chest was slowly growing again, and with each chocolate mouse he ate, he felt it grow a little. Ehwaz loved her bookmark, and luckily didn't dwell on the incident with Weasel and Slughorn, which relieved Draco immensely. He had made another mistake. He didn't like Weasel, but he didn't want to go so far as to kill him. Once again Draco knew how lucky he had been. He felt sure, however, that his next plan would be his last. Hardly anyone knew about the room of requirement, and even less people knew about the pair of vanishing cabinets.

Over the following months, the bubble of hope and happiness in Draco's chest fluctuated dramatically. Every letter from Ehwaz, (his best friend, he now realised) caused it to grow, but every tough homework assignment or letter from home caused it to shrink. His father was growing worried, and the Dark Lord had used nearly all of his limited supply of patience.

Draco stayed at Hogwarts over Easter, since the workload from his teachers, and the amount of time he had to spend working on repairing the vanishing cabinets gave him no chance for rest, let alone to see his mother. His mother was a kind woman, but weak and surrounded by the wrong people. He missed her but not his father's lust for power, or manipulative games. His spirits lightened when Ehwaz said she was staying at Hogwarts too, and Draco had a strong suspicion that she would be camped in the library for the duration of the Easter break.

She had confided in him that she had been revising since Christmas, and had offered to send him a colour coded revision timetable, so he could fill in the subjects himself and stay on track with revision. They had agreed (mostly at Draco's insistence) not to reveal which subjects they did, in case they revealed their identities in the process. He had filled in the timetable she gave him, but rarely had the chance to stick to it.

So much of his time was taken up with one thing or another that he barely had the chance to be introspective anymore. He was exhausted. Ehwaz made him feel good, not just in general, but about himself. He stopped questioning why and just clung to the feeling, a voice in his head telling him understanding would come later. He walked around in a haze of plots and secrets and end of year exam trivia, and when he looked in a mirror his reflection closely resembled that of a zombie. In later years he would question how he survived those months, and the only answer he could give himself was Ehwaz.

He had never intended to find out who she was, the curiosity was tempered by the safety of not knowing, but, as he himself had said, nothing lasts forever.

The first week back after Easter and McGonagall had asked him to distribute the Transfiguration essays back to the class since he was late (the room of requirement was easy to lose yourself in). He was walking around, slowly searching for names, and smirking when the grades were lower than his own, when his heart stopped. There, on the essay in front of him, was some very familiar handwriting. Ehwaz. And there, at the top, a name. Hermione Granger.

Well, damn. Of all the people in the school, it was her. The only thing he could think of that was more embarrassing was if he had been spilling his soul to Potter for months now. Hermione was looking at him, frowning. It had taken him too long to return her homework, and now she snatched it from him, venom dripping from her glare.

Draco spent the lesson in a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings. His best friend was a Gryffindor. A mudblood. Potter's best friend. The girl who had punched him, laughed as he turned into a ferret, and fought with him on more than one occasion. His best friend was his worst enemy. Words failed him. The tenuous grasp he managed to keep on his sanity remained only because she still had no idea it was him. He almost wanted to tell her, just to see the look on her face, but losing the only friend he had right now was too steep a price.

He was sat a few rows behind Hermione, and slightly to the side. Surreptitiously he took her in. A slight compensation was that he now knew what Ehwaz looked like. Her hair wasn't as crazy as it used to be, and her figure had filled out. Her eyes were quite pretty he supposed, when she wasn't glaring at him or frowning at a textbook. He took out a quill and his ink, and began to scrawl.

Ehwaz

What would you do if you found out who I am?

Snitch x

He had just signed a kiss. In a letter meant for Hermione Granger. The world had gone to hell on a Hippogriff, but Draco couldn't bring himself to care. Hermione Granger was a different person now. She was Ehwaz, she was kind and funny. She was comforting and reassuring. Draco thought he saw her how the Gryffindors must see her. How he would have seen her all along, had he been a Gryffindor. Perish the thought. He sent his letter later that evening, and read the reply hungrily, it was another conversation he would never forget.

I don't know Snitch, I've never really thought about it. If we are friends in 'real life' I guess we would be closer, because we know each other better. If we didn't know each other in real life, we'd be friends like we are now. Why do you ask?

Ehwaz xx

Draco gulped.

But what if we hated each other in 'real life'?

But how could we? We don't hate each other now.

But still. What if?

Then Dumbledore's plan would have worked, we would have looked beyond the exterior or the preconceptions we have, and we would have gotten to know each other. We would see things differently.

She didn't need to say that again. Draco didn't know if he'd ever see things the same again.

How would you feel about me?

In all honesty, I don't know. Why don't you tell me who you are and we'll find out?

He hoped to god she was joking. There was no way he could tell her. The days passed and Draco regressed even further into a zombie like state. His exams were a blur, he felt permanently hungover, and he tried to pretend that Ehwaz was still an anonymous 6th year. She was still a Ravenclaw. Things were ok.

But life never works out the way you want, and Draco had almost fixed the vanishing cabinets. The day he did, he received a letter that changed his world forever. The Death Eaters were arriving that night. The revelation crept over him, the sensation akin to cold water trickling down your back. There would be a fight, and dear god, she would fight. Hermione Granger was stubborn and brave and loyal. She would fight the Death Eaters no matter what. He prayed with all the fragments of his soul that she wouldn't be hurt, wouldn't be killed. The thought was unbearable.

The thing was, damn it all, that even if he came clean, she would fight. All he could do was warn her. Draco frantically pulled a scrap of parchment towards him, and as he did so his left forearm seared. It was happening. It was now, and he had to go and kill Dumbledore or be killed himself. Time had finally run out.

Looking back, Draco barely remembered that night. Everything was disjointed, he was terrified, he was somehow on the astronomy tower, he was confronting Dumbledore. Before he collected his courage and made a decision one way or the other, it was all over. Snape killed Dumbledore. Draco felt hollow. He didn't understand what had just happened, and there was nothing inside him but fear.

Sometime later, he was wandering through the battle. He didn't know what he was doing. Both sides seemed reluctant to fight him, the Death Eaters knew he was one of them and the Order didn't know which side he was on. He knew which side he was on, finally, after all this time. Somewhere in his zombie like state, there was clarity. He had to find her. Ehwaz. Ehwaz. He was hit with exploding rubble and everything went black.

It was all over when he came round. He had been completely buried, and the Death Eaters, assumed he was dead and left him behind. The parts of his brain that had regained the ability to think were screaming at him. He had to know where she was. Some tiny, rational part of his brain told his feet to walk to the hospital wing, and there, gathered together, were the survivors. His survivors. They were gathered around those who were less fortunate, Dumbledore among them. Tearing his eyes away from Dumbledore's lifeless form, he quickly scanned the crowd around the beds. Draco released the breath he didn't know he held as he saw her, standing. She was ok.

A world that endangered Ehwaz, Hermione, or whoever the hell she was, was not one he could even pretend to fight for. Besides, he had already done enough damage.

He found the nearest empty classroom, and scribbled a quick letter.

Ehwaz, I know my timing is awful but this is the most important thing in my life right now. I need you to meet me. You need to know who I am, and you'll probably hate me. I'll be unarmed, and if you jinx me into oblivion, I will understand. But first, please hear me out. Down the corridor, classroom on the left.

Yours always, Snitch xxx

Hermione was drained. They only had a fraction of a warning, and so many people were injured or lost forever. She knew she had barely begun to process it. The road ahead was just as long as it had been this morning, and now it was a little darker. A scroll of parchment zooming into the back of her head broke her from her reverie. Puzzled, Hermione broke the seal and quickly read the message. She had been increasingly worried about Snitch all year. This message was odd, but Snitch was her friend no matter who he was in 'real life', as she had dubbed it. She would hear him out. Quietly she slipped away from the crowd, and into the corridor.

Down the corridor, classroom on the left. Hermione opened the door but wasn't prepared for who was waiting for her. Him. Draco Malfoy. Revealed tonight as a death eater, Harry had been right all along. Instinct overcame exhaustion and she drew her wand. A shaky hand pointed it at his chest, and she eyed him warily.

"Where is he? What have you done with Snitch, Malfoy?" She all but spat his name, and he flinched.

"It's me, I'm Snitch. I know this is strange. I realised you were Ehwaz when I gave you back your Transfiguration homework. I swear this isn't a trap."

Everything suddenly clicked into place for Hermione, that odd conversation Snitch had started about their identities had been the day she snatched her homework from Draco Malfoy. No wonder he had looked at her as though she were a ghost. The realisation that she was friends with the person responsible for all the carnage around them, the lives lost, became the final straw. She was overloaded, and she sank to her knees on the floor.

Draco rushed forwards to catch her if she fell, and she lowered her wand and stared at him.

"Why? How?"

More cogs were whirring in her mind, and she remembered the conversation they had had about blackmail. Draco had done wrong, but she could understand why. She could sympathise, and would probably have done the same in his situation.

From the way he was looking at her now, the emotions dancing through his eyes so fast she could barely decipher them, she could tell he had changed sides for good. Draco Malfoy was no longer a threat.

A fragile calm settled around them as they stared at each other, and re-evaluated their opinions on several different things all at once.

Draco wanted out. He wanted help. He wanted to be far away from the Death Eaters and their twisted leader. He wanted to repent, to slowly earn forgiveness. He wanted to help, and he wanted peace. All of this, he realised, had come from Hermione, bought about by Dumbledore. They had helped him see past his blood purity prejudice, and they had helped him make a friend. His first friend was a muggleborn. And that was ok. Because she was a beautiful person. Everything she stood for, everything she fought for, is what had been missing from his life for 17 years.

Hermione was shell shocked. Draco Malfoy had been confiding in her all year. She had seen him from afar, looking gaunt and unbelievably stressed. She had never made the link to Snitch, her worried but funny, cautiously optimistic friend. She had pegged Snitch as a Hufflepuff, or maybe a Ravenclaw, but certainly not a Slytherin. Hermione was working past some prejudices too. She thought about Draco's actions, and the secrets and fears Snitch had confided in her, the comfort he had been. Draco re-emerged before her as a broken person, unsure how to make himself whole again, but willing to try.

The road before Hermione stretched even longer. War bought out the bad in everyone, and she had begun to forgive Malfoy his actions, but she knew him. She had known him for a year. Harry, Ron and the others had to know him before they could forgive him.

Cautious brown eyes met wary silver. When they looked back on this moment, neither could say who moved first, but they took each others hand and held tight. Draco spoke first, his voice low.

"I searched for you, in the battle. I was going to warn you but I ran out of time. I knew you'd fight anyway. All I wanted was to make sure Ehwaz was ok, that you weren't hurt. I realised I want to protect you, fight with you, not against you. You made me realise so much about what's important in life. You will never know how much I've needed you this year. I still need you. I want to help, to make things right, but the others…"

"They'll understand in time. I wouldn't have understood straight away, if I hadn't known Snitch. I wanted to warn you too, but I had no time either. We can help, we can hide and protect you. I'm sure you know things that can help us in our fight."

Her eyes held no judgement or malice, just tiredness and acceptance. She carried on softly.

"It won't be easy, that's for sure." He chuckled at the truth in her simple statement. Nothing had ever seemed harder, but then nothing had ever seemed as worthwhile.

"Do you know what Ehwaz means, Draco?" He shook his head, his fingers still wrapped around hers.

"It's a rune. It means partnership." No more words were needed. They were friends. Unlikely as it was, they were in this together. Draco lifted the hand he wasn't holding Hermione's with, and embraced her with it. The dust from the debris, caused by the battle was what made his eyes water when she returned the hug.