Draco quickly scurried down the abandoned and moonlit street of his old house street. He hadn't been there in nearly six months. This side of country hadn't nearly been attacked… no, not yet. Though, this area was the next target and that's why he was there.

He hadn't seen a bed since he had left home. He suffered from insomnia during the whole massacre of halfbloods. By his fathers side most of the time, he was, killing countless people. Against his own will, he watched people being murdered with techniques he had never seen before. Six months into the massacre, Death Eaters had managed to wipe out as many half-bloods and mud bloods as possible in Russia. Word was that one of many armies of Death Eaters had wiped out the mud bloods they could in Russia and had reached the western border. You-Know-Who's plan was to wipe out the Mudbloods and halfbloods on both sides of the continent and round up and kill the rest in the middle. After that, all muggles lives were to succumb. Whether they served as servant up to a few weeks or were killed instantaneously.

No soul could be sure if people on the street had runaway from their home or if they were timorous and hiding in the deepest, darkest depth of their house. Who knew if anybody was going to be in his house?

Draco timidly stood on his porch- their porch, in front of THEIR front door. Retrieving his wand from his pocket, he silently rapped on the door three times. The door made the reassuring click and it opened. He pushed the door open to reveal the once waxed, beautiful shining marble floors. They were now dusty and scuffed and marked up as though somebody had moved in and out while he had been gone.

Not sure if somebody had taken refuge into his house, he had his wand up, at the ready. No lights were on; the house was as dark as Voldermourts heart itself. Draco stood rigidly still.

He lit his wand and the light illuminating from his wand revealed the beaten staircase that was blood stained. He furrowed his brow. The trail led from the top of the staircase and into many various directions of the house. It suddenly occurred to him what might've happened; Murder.

His feet moved so fast, he nearly fell over. He followed the trail to every part of the house where it had been. Into the living room, he knocked around furniture looking for a torn body. The trail led into the dining room where he turned over the table and knocked over every heavy stone chair. The pantry, the apparation room, the floo room, the bathroom. He followed the trail upstairs, into the bathroom, the owling room, the ancestortorial portrait room. Lastly, he stood before her bedroom- his bedroom- their bedroom. The room they had the chance to share for a short time of their lives.

Faintly, he wiped the beads of sweat that were starting to form on his forehead. He halfway knew what lay behind the door. He was starting to choke up. His throat was become tight and thin, causing his breaths to become shallow. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes lids. With his shaking hand, he turned the knob and heard the click of the door becoming free from the doorways grasp.

With his wand in his other hand, he pushed the door open. He thrust the light of his wand in the room. The light revealed a white mattress. The white and black silk sheets and blankets were gone as well as were a few of the pillows. He looked under the bed; nothing. Into the closet; nothing. He followed the blood trail into the master bathroom they had shared; nothing.

A pin sized tear rolled down his cheek. He stormed down the grand staircase, waved his wand and the door ripped open to bare a heavy, windy night. Just as he was about to storm out their house, he felt he missed something. He hadn't checked some where. He made his way to the kitchen. Beside the pantry there was a hidden door leading to the huge basement. He tapped the wall next to the pantry three times and a door appeared and opened itself to him.

There were multiple huge items stacked in front of the door; on the stairs. He merely blasted them out the way with his wand. The objects were sent tumbling to the bottom of the stair case. He had his lit wand stretched out before him. Something wasn't right… .he could sense it in the atmosphere.

He slowly began to walk down the stairs in to the inevitable darkness. The light of his wand was no longer good for use; though, he left it on. Only the moons faint light made him able to see each stair step. He heard a faint shuffling sound and a soft whimper.

"A-Avada Kedavra!"

Halfway down the staircase, somebody, a woman, in a very distraught and distressed voice sent the killing curse towards him. It had narrowly missed him. Whether the curse had hit him or not, the persons voice was so distressed and uneven that the curse itself wouldn't have worked.

Draco had doubled back, then sent himself fumbling down the stairs. He fell onto some of the objects that had been blocking the doorway. In the corner of the room, he noticed a gently green glowing coming from somebody's wand; a wands side affects to using Avada Kedavra. Quickly, he conjured uo his Death Eater mask and put his hood on, masking his identity. Instantly , the mask brought killer mode and instinct into his body.

In the direction of the glow, he flicked his wand. The bright glow went towards him and a wand landed perfectly in the palm of his leather glove. He then used the most powerful lighting spell he knew that sent light rays ricocheting off the granite walls. There, in the corner of the room was the owner of the wand, sitting on the floor. With one had, they held a bundle close to them, leaning halfway out their arm, the other, they covered their face in attempt to block their eyes from the horrid rays. Draco stalked over to the vulnerable person curled up in front of him.

"Please! Take me! Murder me but spare the infant. It isn't mine. I kidnapped it!" The woman's voice was barely understandable. Her voice was hoarse as though it hadn't been used in years or it had been over used from screaming.

The woman was wearing a bloody looking sweatshirt and had a black silk blanket around her waist- It was the silk blanket that hadn't been in his room. He noticed, on the other side of the room was where the blood trail had ended in a pool of blood.

"Who the hell are you? What the bloody hell are you doing here? Where is she? Where is she? You killed her! Where is she!" Draco hollered pointing his wand at the woman's chest.

The woman began to cry hysterically then said weakly, "Please…. Spare the child-" she said behind her arm but she stopped in mid sentence. She slowly lowered her arm to reveal her face.

Draco's legs gave out when he saw his girls face. He fell to his knees in front of her and took off his mask. He embraced her and muttered "Granger…."

He felt Hermione wrap her hand behind his neck. She began to cry loudly. "Draco… W-Where've you been?- You left me- to this- how-how could you- I-I love you." She said weakly and quietly.

Draco sat beside her, still hugging her. He couldn't believe it. He believed her as dead.