So this entire story is written already. It's roughly 12,500 words, so I'm breaking this into parts because I really couldn't bring myself to post a one shot that long. The M rating is for the last chapter, so if you're here for lemons, you'll have to wait a bit.

Anyway, hopefully you're interested. The next two parts will be up over the next two days.

Rotating POV.

HPOV

"Not what you expected, Granger?"

My head shot up at the sound of Malfoy's voice. It had to have been a few days since I'd seen anyone. I'd been chained to a fancy piece of emerald green furniture - that I'm sure was expensive but was certainly not comfortable.

Although it was an improvement from the dungeons.

The house elf who had led me - magical bindings and all - up from the dungeon two stories into what I could only assume was a sitting room, had mercifully allowed me to wash up a bit. I could only assume whoever had wanted me up here had allowed him to do it, because it seemed doubtful that a house elf working for Malfoys' would dare step a toe out of line. Especially in times like these.

"I asked you a question."

I blinked, struggling to shake the blurriness of the crucio. It seemed like I got lost in thought quite often nowadays.

"It's better than sleeping on stones."

He cocked his head to the side, clearly studying me.

I had no idea what I looked like.

"You look like shit."

Apparently like shit.

"This isn't exactly a spa."

He looked like shit too, coincidentally. He was still as striking as ever, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly gaunt look to his face definitely showed that his side wasn't necessarily any better off than mine.

He glanced around the room before his eyes landed back on me, "Have they given you anything?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Does it look like it?"

At that he smirked, the first actual expression I'd seen so far, and said, "Watch it, Granger. Wouldn't want you to end up back in the cage."

"Why aren't I there now?"

Instead of answering me, he walked over to the aforementioned uncomfortable, fancy piece of furniture and sat down, pulling out his wand in the process.

I instantly tensed, shifting as far from the love seat as I possibly could given the chains, but he just pointed his wand at the table.

A glass of what looked like water and a bowl of some sort of steaming soup appeared in front of him and he motioned towards it, "Eat."

"No."

"Sit. And. Eat." he snapped, the chain around my neck pulling me closer to the table - but not too close, I noted.

"Why? What am I doing up here?" I asked, refusing to step any closer until I got some answers. He was still a Malfoy, and he stood there like the rest of them while Bellatrix tortured me.

He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip before releasing a large sigh and leaning back against the couch.

"We don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

"Eat and I'll talk." he countered, motioning to the seat next to him.

Instead of taking the seat beside him, I chose the ground opposite him at the table. He smirked, but didn't comment on it.

I picked up the glass of water first, realizing just how thirsty I was - how long could the human body survive without water? I took a sip, and before I knew it I'd emptied the whole thing.

Malfoy looked pleased and began talking again, "Potter contacted me."

"What?" I'm sure my eyes were as wide as saucers.

"I guess Potter decided I was worth the risk." he said, eyes on the table.

"Worth what risk?"

"You're getting out of here. Soon, actually. They're pretty efficient in setting things up, it would seem."

"Who's they?" I asked, my foggy mind unable to keep up.

"Your friends, Granger. Potter told me how to help get you out." he said, eyes finally meeting mine again.

"Why would you want -"

"Just eat. We don't have a lot of time."

I did as he asked, more out of sheer hunger than wanting to please him - but that seemed irrelevant at this point.

"Come on, stand up." he said, motioning for me to hurry.

I stood slowly, my muscles were weak from how little I'd been moving for the past five...six weeks...I wasn't even sure how long I'd been here.

He pointed his wand at me, and for a moment my heart stopped, but just as quickly I felt the magical chains around my neck, arms, and ankles fall to the ground.

He extended his hand toward me, "Come on, we've got to go."

I tentatively stepped forward, still unsure of whether this was real or all some sort of cruel joke, but at this point, what more did I really have to lose?

DPOV

Her hand in mine felt frail - unbelievably frail compared to the strength she'd had when she'd hit me in the face in third year.

I didn't know why the fuck I was doing this. Helping rescue Granger so she could go off and help Potter save the fucking world.

But that was it, wasn't it? She was going to help him fix this whole fucked up thing. She had to. I mean if the Brightest Witch of Our Age couldn't help the Golden Boy defeat Him, we were all fucked.

Potter had caught me while I was doing my rounds outside the Manor. I'd really questioned whether or not to just kill him and end it all, but did I really want Him to win?

So I hadn't. And we talked.

He offered me immunity under the Order if I helped get her back to them. I had no idea what that meant for my mother, or even for me. Who knew what the Order would and wouldn't let Potter dictate.

But I didn't like this. I didn't want this. I'd grown to realize - particularly as Granger's blood spread across the cracks in the floor as Bellatrix tortured her - that muggles and muggle-borns weren't dirty. Their blood wasn't tainted. Her's was red. Just like mine.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked as we quietly made our way through the many winding halls of my former home. Potter had told me where we needed to go, a cottage in the middle of Nowhere, Scotland. It was warded by the smartest witches and wizards they had - apparently even Granger had contributed - and they used it as a safe place when being chased by Death Eaters. I just needed to get her there.

"Because I want this bloody war over with."

"Even if that means going to Azkaban?"

"I did what I did. If they decide Azkaban's how I pay for it...then so be it. We all deserve to rot there anyway."

She tugged my hand, pulling me to a stop - as if we had the bloody time for this - to say, "Why are you risking your life to get me out of here, Malfoy? Why are you really?"

Her eyes were unwavering, a stark contrast to her incredibly small frame. She definitely hadn't looked great when she, Potter, and the Weasel had gotten caught and brought in, but she looked about a hundred times worse now.

"I...we don't have time for this." I said, shaking my head. What did it matter what my reasons were? Stupid bint. She should be happy she was getting out of this hellhole today.

"Malfoy," she snapped, pulling me to a halt with more strength than I knew she still possessed, "Why are you doing this?"

"So you can help Potter, so maybe we don't all end up dead."

This seemed to appease her ever curious mind and she allowed me to pull her along. I was hoping that the almost excruciating pain in my arm meant that everyone else was gathered away from the front door. All we needed to be able to do was get far enough away from the Manor that I could apparate us both the fuck away from here.

She kept glancing at the Dark Mark, so I'm sure she realized something was going on, but thank Salazar she didn't ask.

As we rounded the corner I heard Bellatrix and my father, and quickly grabbed Granger, pulling her against my chest out of sight.

"...she have gone?"

"I don't know where the hell she's gone, or who the hell moved her, but I want her back. The Dark Lord will not be pleased if he hears the girl is missing. She's far too important." snapped my father.

At least it didn't seem like he suspected me at all.

I hoped that they wouldn't walk in our direction, and after a few tense minutes of further arguing between them, they left.

I became acutely aware that this was the closest I'd ever been to Granger in all the years that I'd known her.

We waited a moment longer until I was sure they had really gone, before pulling her with me towards the door.

Having made it outside was one thing, making it far enough away to actually make our escape...that was another thing entirely.

We'd made it about a quarter of a mile before Granger stumbled, almost hitting the ground, but I caught her.

"I'm sorry." she panted, trying to catch her breath.

It wasn't really her fault. I was surprised she could hold herself up, let alone run.

"We have to keep moving. We're close." I lied, lifting her into my arms. I was sure that even carrying her I could make it faster than if she kept trying to keep up with me.

Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue, instead wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

I was really banking on everyone being at the meeting. I knew that He would notice that I wasn't there, but I didn't know if I was on his radar enough for that to warrant too much inquiry. At least not this soon.

I hoped.

HPOV

I still didn't really fully grasp what was happening. One minute I went from having a collar around my neck to being rescued by Malfoy.

I imagined the Order must have offered him something, otherwise there's no way he'd be taking this risk. It wouldn't make any sense.

He'd told me that we were going to a cottage in Scotland, one of the Order's safe houses, until Harry came for me - us. It was apparent that Malfoy was coming with me, whether he really wanted to or not was another matter entirely.

I wasn't sure if the Order would keep him out of Azkaban for this, but for some reason he was coming with me to make sure I wouldn't be attacked without a wand. Apparently they'd broken mine and tossed it. So I'd be out of one for a while.

It seemed strange to be headed to Scotland in the dead of winter, but I guess it was a good place. Who would want to be out in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard? No one should be that crazy.

But I supposed that's why it worked.

Just as we heard the sound of footsteps on hard dirt Malfoy let me down, whipped out his wand, and in a whirl we were standing in the middle of an incredibly cozy cottage.

I stepped back from Malfoy to look around the room we were in - living room. There was a comfy looking brown sofa across from a large fireplace that was already roaring. In front of the fireplace was a large fluffy white rug. On the opposite wall was a bookshelf filled with books, and next to those were a few games - chess, cards - nothing too exciting.

At least there were books, though.

The kitchen was to the left. It was small, but seemed to have all the things a kitchen needed - stove, sink, refrigerator.

Next to that was a small dining table, just big enough for two.

"There are probably clothes around here somewhere." said Malfoy, motioning towards the back of the cottage where I assumed the bedroom was.

"Okay...I'm going to take a shower."

He simply nodded and headed over to the bookshelf. I left him to it and wandered towards the bedroom. On the right there was a small bathroom with a toilet and sink, but slightly further down was the door to the bedroom.

The room was quaint, the bed big enough for two who were comfortable being a bit close, and a dresser that I hoped had some fresh clothes in them.

I pulled open the drawers, relieved to find a cozy sweater and a pair of sweatpants that I could wear after a nice shower.

How long had it been since I'd had a shower?

I pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom and caught a look at my reflection for the first time in weeks.

I didn't even recognize myself.

My hair was matted and dirty, my under eye circles so purple they could've been black, and the sheer amount of weight I'd managed to lose in what I assumed was roughly six weeks was quite shocking.

I shook my head, turning away from the mirror to strip out of the tattered clothes I had on. Everyone looked better after a nice long shower.

I turned on the water and stepped in, turning so I could start with my hair. After a few minutes of untangling and quite a few curse words, my hair was smooth. After finishing up the shower I felt better than I had in weeks. And the soft, fluffy towels were definitely nicer than the rags I'd been wearing earlier.

After I dried off I got dressed and followed the smell of food out into the kitchen.

"What are you cooking?"

Malfoy had changed clothes as well. He was in a cream cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a pair of oversized sweatpants that hung off his hips in a way that -

Stop.

"Spaghetti. I figured everyone likes spaghetti." he said with a shrug, turning his attention back to the food.

"It smells amazing." I said, taking a seat at the table.

He made a muffled sound but didn't really respond. A few moments later he grabbed two bowls, filled them, and set them down on the table.

"Thank you."

"You're going to need to eat to get your strength back. You won't be any good to anyone otherwise." he said, digging in to the pasta.

I did the same, surprised by how good of a cook he was. Not that I'd ever admit that.

"What happens after Harry shows up here?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"You go heal up with the Order and then help Potter."

"What happens to you?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Nothing happens to me."

"What did the Order offer you?" I pressed, not buying it.

"Potter said they'd grant me immunity."

He didn't seem particularly excited about it, which was confusing. The Order was giving him the best deal he could get.

"So that's why you're doing it...you don't seem happy about it."

"They didn't say anything about my mother." he said, focusing on eating his food.

"Are you going to come with me?"

"With you and Potter?" he snorted, "Just because the Order might give me immunity doesn't mean they want me playing on their side. They don't trust me."

"But they trust me. And you saved my life by getting me out of there. Let alone...you risked everything by helping us. The Order will see that. They're not as bad as you think." I said, meeting his gaze across the table.

He didn't say anything else, but the silence wasn't as awkward as it had been earlier.

After I finished he stood up, grabbing both bowls before I could, and brought them into the kitchen.

"Do you think they know you're gone?" I asked, sitting down on the couch by the fireplace.

I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen before he came out with two glasses and a bottle of Fire Whiskey.

"Depends. They obviously know I didn't respond to His call -"

"The Dark Mark." I said, glancing at his arm again. He shifted, moving so that I couldn't see it and I blushed, "I'm sorry."

"Since they know I didn't respond, they probably think something's up. Either I'm stuck somewhere and can't or I'm MIA...and with you gone, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they put two and two together." he said with a shrug. "Until then, I guess we just assume we have enough time, or that you and your brainiac friends guarded this place well enough."

He handed me a glass of the Fire Whiskey before pouring one for himself. He knocked back about half of it in one go, and I couldn't really blame him.

It was hard to imagine how conflicted he must've felt. He really was risking his life and, in a way, betraying his family. Even if it was for the right reasons. It was strange seeing Malfoy in such a different light. He almost seemed...human for it.

I didn't know how long I'd been lost in thought, but the slightly concerned look on his face let me know it must have been at least a few minutes. Instead of commenting on it, I just continued the conversation.

"Does this mean you don't want Him to win?"

He finally stopped looking at me like I was bound to shatter any second and said, "No, I don't want Him to win. Because I know what Him winning looks like."

I wondered how many Slytherins felt the same way but couldn't admit it. Certainly more than just him.

I took a sip of the Fire Whiskey, lost in thought for a while before he spoke up again.

"You look better."

"A shower works wonders." I joked lightly.

He poured himself another glass, a slight frown on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked softly.

He glanced at me, opening his mouth once before shaking his head, "Hopefully it doesn't snow like this for too long."

"Why? You managed to get us here."

He snorted, taking a sip of his drink before responding, "You're lucky we made it, never mind Potter."

"Harry's great at -"

"But I'm better and you know it." he said, shaking his head, "If I barely got us here, there's no way he has a chance. He'll likely end up bounced off into the middle of the blizzard if he tries."

I couldn't really argue with that.

"It's Scotland." I said with a shrug. I wasn't expecting a speedy rescue, that was for sure.

"I'm going to see if there are any blankets and set up camp on the couch." he said, setting his empty glass on the table to stand.

I nodded, knocking back the rest of my drink before refilling my glass.

I really didn't mind the thought of sharing a bed with Malfoy. The thought was ludicrous and uncalled for given the situation, but I couldn't help the thought. And it didn't hurt seeing that he was still as handsome as ever.

Before I knew it I felt myself reaching to refill my glass again.

It was fine. I had literally been rescued today. I was owed a few drinks.

Malfoy returned, fluffy comforter and pillow in hand, dumping them on the far end of the couch before sitting down - closer to me this time.

He didn't seem bothered, reaching forward to refill his glass before taking a sip and leaning his head back against the couch. His eyes had closed, and I couldn't help but study him. He'd always been slightly fascinating.

His hair was so blonde that it was almost white, and it had oftentimes made me wonder if he had a bit of Veela in him. It seemed possible enough, what with his pure bloodline. His eyes, when open, were the strangest shade of grey I'd seen, and his nose thin and aristocratic, slightly upturned at everyone ninety-nine percent of the time. His cheekbones were unreal, sharp and angular like the rest of his face. He was almost too perfect. His neck was smooth, meeting broad shoulders and toned arms. It seemed like he'd been doing a lot of hard work lately.

I tried to remember that if I let my mind wander too far, it was liable to leave me looking like an utterly broken idiot in front of Malfoy again, and I wasn't sure anyone should have to endure such a thing.

But I couldn't help wondering what he thought of me. I wondered why he'd decided to risk everything on the off chance that this would work. The Order could've very well granted him immunity, but I wasn't dumb. Voldemort wasn't losing. We were. He had traded a team that was definitely winning for...well what? If he'd -

"Granger!"

I blinked, trying to clear myself of the ever-present fog I felt since Bellatrix had repeatedly crucio'd me.

"I'm sorry...what did you say?"

He studied me for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before asking, "Where do you go when that happens?"

DPOV

I wasn't stupid. I knew that overexposure to the cruciatus curse could permanently break someone's mind. I'd witnessed it many times before, but for some reason seeing Granger as the one who was completely spaced out and lost was painful. Her mind was probably Potter's only hope at winning this war.

"Nowhere." she said with a shrug, "I just think too much sometimes."

Before I could say anything else, she was speaking again.

"I'm tired. I'm going to go to sleep. Goodnight, Malfoy. And thank you."

Without another word she disappeared into the back bedroom, the door shutting with a resounding click.

And then there was silence, the only sound the occasional crackling of the fire.

Moving so I was laying underneath the comforter I'd gotten, I stared up at the ceiling in thought.

It seemed pretty likely that the Order would come and rescue her soon. They'd have their healers fix whatever damage the crucio had done, and then she'd be able to help Potter. I didn't know much, but he'd told me she'd invented the most ingenious potions and spells - things that the Dark Lord never even dreamt of - but without her mind at full strength there was no telling what could happen.

But Voldemort wasn't an idiot. He had captured Granger, tortured her, because He knew that aside from Potter, she was the Order's best shot at winning. Her mind was brilliant. She was strong. Determined. Brave.

If He would've been able to break her, there's no telling the secrets He would've learned from that big brain of hers.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a shrill scream, the sound making my hair stand on end as I grabbed my wand and burst through the bedroom door.

Only no one else was there. It was just Granger, writhing around on the bed, eyes tightly closed.

She was sleeping.

"No, no, please stop." she murmured, her head thrashing from side to side.

It felt wrong to watch this. To watch her. She'd hate that I knew.

But somehow I couldn't tear myself away.

Instead I walked toward her, resting my hand on her forehead before murmuring a wandless spell - dreamless sleep. A moment later she stilled, her breathing evening out as she returned to what looked like a peaceful sleep.

I debated staying, making sure that she really was alright, but I couldn't bring myself to. It wasn't my place.

I walked back out into the living room, positive I wouldn't be able to sleep now - not that it was anything new. The stress of constantly waiting to be called on for some horrible task was too much to handle sometimes. You never knew when He would summon you or what'd you'd have to do.

The worst part was that He took pleasure in it. He loved seeing just how far He could push people before they would break. He'd done it with me, and He'd tried with Granger - only He hadn't been able to quite break her - at least not in any way that gave him information.

I could only hope that Potter and the Order would come through, because if they didn't, we were all fucked.

Let me know if you're interested in the rest of their story. Reviews make my day.