Wow! This story has had such a great response, thank you so much! I might've updated earlier only I've been in France. It was wonderful. But I didn't check my email at all until I got back, by which time I had 58 new messages! And none of them were junk! :) Most of them were lovely lovely comments from all of you, and I'm glad you're enjoying it! This chapter is longer, lots of conversation, so I hope you enjoy this too.

DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, I just manipulate them.

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Hermione sank down onto the bed. Draco looked away and passed her a thin blanket, which she draped absently around her shoulders – she seemed to be unaware of her half-naked state.

'Will I be getting an answer any time soon?' Draco prompted, after she had sat in silence for several minutes staring wide-eyed at a mouse hole on the opposite wall.

'Huh?' she looked up vacantly, and shook her head a little, as if trying to wake herself. 'I'm sorry. I'm just… so shocked… I never thought that anyone who could ever recognise me would ever come here. I should have realised this sort of place is probably a common hangout of yours,' she added bitterly.

Draco's lips twitched in amusement. So she was still the same old Granger. 'How did you end up working in a brothel?' he asked, dispensing with niceties.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders hunching up. 'I guess I may as well tell you. It's not like I'll ever be getting out of here,' she grunted. Draco said nothing. She took a deep breath. 'After the battle, the general opinion was that I was a hero. Journeying with Harry, fighting so hard, saving you, even though you were the enemy…' Hermione's tone was bitter and sarcastic. Draco stared resolutely at the floor, his eyes hard. 'I couldn't take it. I mean, it was nice, it was complimentary, but it was so… tiresome. I needed to get out once in a while, so I started going out to Muggle places sometimes, just for relief.' Hermione paused. She had come to terms with her past, but that did not mean she was ready to vent it all again, to a near stranger, to Draco Malfoy of all people. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. 'Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up in need of work, and I couldn't get a job in the Muggle world and without any further qualifications there weren't really any places that would take me except here.'

Seems you're cutting a lot short, thought Draco, but he stopped himself. Instead: 'Surely anywhere in the Wizarding world would have been gagging for the brains behind Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's defeat in their workforce,' he said, only slightly sarcastically.

Hermione let out a burst of humourless laughter. 'You think I'm going to live off Harry's fame all my life? I'm a person in my own right. I don't want a job just because I worked with him for all those years. They never recognised me here, I'm just Sally Withershins from Barking.'

'I thought you were Georgette?'

'Well men can hardly cry out something as mundane as 'Sally' when they're in the throes of passion, can they?' It was Hermione's turn to be sarcastic. 'We all have fake names. Danielle's real name is Tilly Caster.'

'I know,' replied Draco, without thinking.

'You shouldn't get too close to her,' warned Hermione. 'If she falls in love with you, she'll be out of here in an instant.'

Within a second, Draco had made up his mind. 'I'm going to tell you something,' he said. 'You have to promise to listen to me all the way through, because I want to help you.'

'I don't need you help!' Hermione retorted instantly.

'I knew that's what you'd say,' said Draco calmly, 'but it's for rather selfish reasons. You see, I want to help you because I need you to help me.' Hermione looked at him levelly. 'I can't say anything now, I wouldn't trust that Madame Moreau as far as the end of this street, even if she is on our side. But—'

'Wait,' Hermione cut him off. 'Our side? Seems a lot has changed since I've been here. Took you long enough to convert,' she said caustically.

'Yeah, well, I did, and now I'm an Auror, even if it does mean having to answer to bloody Potter,' Draco sneered.

'Don't talk about him like that,' snapped Hermione.

Malfoy ignored her and continued. 'Can we get you out of here? When do you have free time?'

'Not bloody likely, and never,' she answered.

'Do you never leave this house? What about when you go home?' he asked incredulously.

Hermione was silent for a moment. 'Malfoy, why do you think girls like me come here?'

Draco looked away, embarrassed. 'Do you have a wand?' he asked quietly.

'When we come here, we have to have an interview with Madame Moreau. She slips Veritaserum into the tea, and if you have a wand she finds it and takes it away. She's too poor a witch to set up anti-apparition spells or wards, so she can't risk us having wands. That's partly why all clients have to hand theirs in at the desk,' she explained.

'So you don't have one?' Draco asked.

'Even if I am a…' Hermione paused slightly, embarrassed. 'Even if I am here, I'm still as clever as I always was. I thought she might try something like that, so I… I broke my wand. When she asked if I had a wand I said it broke, so it was useless, and she accepted that. She's dumber than she looks, she likes everyone to think she's all sly and conniving but she's hopeless really. I had the pieces hidden in my robes, and I moved them there as soon as possible,' she finished, pointing to a floorboard which Draco supposed must be loose. 'Could you get it out?'

In answer, Draco headed over to where she was pointing and indeed saw one end of the board poking up slightly, revealing a hiding place beneath. He levered it up, breaking a nail in the process (but, being a manly man, he said nothing) and pulled out a thin package wrapped in a red scarf. Hermione took it gently, and unwrapped her wand.

'I tried to fix it together again, but my wandless magic isn't as good as it used to be…' Draco bit back a retort. 'If your wand is at reception though, it shouldn't be too hard to accio it. Giselle's even more stupid than Madame.'

'Ok, I'll stay here and pretend I'm in a sex coma,' said Draco. 'You go downstairs and get my wand, then we can Apparate out of this dump.'

'It's a – well, ridiculously simple, but anyway – plan,' agreed Hermione, as she pulled down the leg of one stocking. Messing up her hair, she left the room quietly.

It was an agonisingly slow wait for Draco, as he lay on the well-used bed, trying not to think about Granger and what she had done here. Ten minutes later by his watch she crept in again, smiling properly for the first time since he had entered her room. Had he known that she was smiling properly for the first time in months he may have felt a bit more compassionate, as it was, he was just eager to get at his wand. 'Here, I'll fix yours first, then grab my arm and I'll take you to my apartment,' he said.

Hermione nodded giddily. The prospect of her final escape was getting to her head. She had wanted to leave this place ever since she got here. She hated her former self, how naïve she was for thinking that this would be an adequate alternative to losing her dignity in a job given to her only for the sake of who she knew, but losing her dignity night after night to men she had never laid eyes on before, stinking of too much firewhisky and another prostitute's cheap perfume, was so much worse. Ironically, even that was nothing compared to the crushing loss her pride suffered at the knowledge that her livelihood depended on her ability to momentarily please people she would have hurried past on the street with disgust, but also at the knowledge that not even arrogant philanders and perverted old drunks wanted her anymore. Another week like this and she'd be back on the street. Once again the thought of all her former friends and her family flitted across her mind, friends she had had to desert because of her actions, who would never have forgiven her. She couldn't go back to them; she could not bear the thought of lying to them, even less the thought of telling them the truth. She loved them and missed them desperately, and she was sure they missed her – how could they not, when they still thought she was the same old loving, generous, kind Hermione? Better that they think her vanished and uphold a good memory of her, keep the happy memories they had made together, than that they know her truth.

'Hermione?' Draco looked at her strangely, she had been staring wildly at her fixed wand. 'You can take it, you know.'

Hermione shook her head, as if waking up. Draco was starting to notice this little habit of hers, it was rather endearing. It was his turn to shake himself awake. Granger, endearing? She was in trouble, that was all. He would do the same for any girl in her situation.

Hermione was pulling on a heavy grey cardigan, which she had fished out from under the bed, and slipped her feet into worn-looking pumps.

'Ready?' Draco held out his arm.

Hermione nodded, and took his arm tightly in both hands.

The room they Apparated into was spacious and… clean, was what first occurred to Hermione. Light curtains framed a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the Thames. Shining parquet floors stretched from wall to wall, punctuated with a black leather couch and two matching armchairs. On one wall hung a large mirror, simply framed, and bookcases lined the opposite wall. Three doors opened off the living room, one was unmistakeably a front door, the second was open and Hermione glimpsed a gleaming kitchen. The third was shut, but must have led to Malfoy's bedroom. Hermione stood still for many minutes, not letting go of Malfoy's arm, just taking it all in. Draco was silent.

'It's been so long since I've been in a room like this,' she smiled, looking genuinely happy. She walked over to the window, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. 'You can see all of London!' she breathed. And indeed, London stretched out before her, lights sparkling in the deep night as far as she could see.

Draco coughed hesitantly. 'Would you like something to eat?'

Hermione turned abruptly, eyes shining. She sniffed quietly.

He almost ran to her side. 'Are you crying?'

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and smiled. 'A little. It's just…' she looked at the ceiling, blinking back tears again. 'No one has been this kind to me for…' She broke off.

Draco stood close beside her, silently. They both stayed there, staring out over London. Draco heard Hermione take a deep breath.

'I may as well come straight to the point,' she started. Draco turned to face her. 'I'm not prepared to trust you completely yet. And I cannot go back to my old life with Harry and Ron and Ginny and my parents. But you got me out of there, without my asking, and if there's any favour I can do for you, well, fair's fair.'

Malfoy nodded. 'I told you before I 'got you out' that I was only helping you because I need your help. That was only partly true. I said it because I knew it was the only way you would let me help you, but to be honest I'm not entirely sure how you can help me, yet.' Hermione looked confused, and Draco sensed she was getting angry. He hurriedly took her hand and led her to the kitchen. 'I'll tell you everything when I've made dinner. I can only do pasta I'm afraid, but there's plenty of it. When was the last time you ate?'

'Merlin's beard Malfoy, we weren't starved,' Hermione replied huffily, but she did not meet his eyes. She allowed herself to be led into the kitchen and sat down at the table, while Malfoy put on a pot of water to boil. She watched him quietly as he busied about, clanking pots and pans, setting the table for two, getting out wine glasses and frying onions. In ten minutes, Hermione was presented with a big steaming pile of pasta, smothered in tomato sauce and bacon.

'Eat as much as you want,' he said, pouring a glass of red wine for each of them. 'And I'll tell you why… why I said that.' Hermione nodded, slurping up her spaghetti. Draco sighed. 'The reason I came to Madam Moreau's today was specifically for Danielle – for Matilda Caster. I'm an Auror now, like I told you, and she's wanted for questioning about Death Eater activity.'

Hermione looked up sharply. 'Tilly's not a Death Eater.'

'No, we know that. But she has been the… preferred choice…' Draco was putting his words delicately, 'of many Death Eaters for some time now. Madame Moreau's has been well frequented for a number of years by Death Eaters. Tilly may have been told things, or heard things she shouldn't have. We want to find her, and see if there is any information she can give us. Then of course, the Ministry will provide her with safe accommodation, we'll protect her as long as she needs it. When I saw that it was you who had taken over from her, I suddenly had an idea. I admit that I haven't yet thought it through, and it was completely on impulse, but if I got you out of there you would perhaps be able to help me find her, seeing as you know her. Are you willing?'

Hermione had listened attentively throughout his speech, and now put down her fork. She had tomato sauce splattered around her mouth, and it looked comical on her serious features. 'I appreciate your honesty,' she said. 'Really. A lot of men wouldn't admit so readily to a plan to use me.' Draco faltered. This wasn't the answer he wanted. Hermione continued. 'But you have helped me, and I want to help you now. I think…' her gaze moved from his face, slipping into the distance. 'I know I can be useful. I really want to be useful, so many men have used me for so long but that meant nothing and now I finally have the chance to do something worthwhile in my life, and I really want to help you, so yes. I am willing.' Her eyes fixed on his once more, and she smiled gently.

'You have no idea how much this means to me,' Draco leaned back in his chair, relief obvious on his face. 'Do you know Tilly well? Are you friends with her?' Hermione paused, and in that instant Draco had a sudden thought. He had just ripped Hermione away from the only home she had, where she had apparently lived for months. What if she had friends there? She might never see them again, she certainly could not go back after Moreau found her gone. He was beginning to see that he might have caused a lot of trouble for her.

'-but we weren't that close,' Hermione finished slowly, confused at the look of shock on Malfoy's face. 'Malfoy? Were you listening?'

He blinked, and looked at her. 'Granger, did you really want to leave? Did you have friends there? You'll probably never see them again, I'm-' He stopped short. He wasn't quite ready to tell Granger that he was sorry, not quite yet.

'That's what I was saying,' sighed Hermione exasperatedly. 'Even though I was there for a while, none of the other girls ever reached out to me. No one seemed to reach out to anyone. I guess we were all so used to being alone, and we didn't want to make friends in case we were hurt again, but it was driving me crazy. In the situation we were in, the thing all of us needed most was a friend. Tilly and I had to share our room a couple of times – all the girls shared with each other because there are more girls than beds, and when we didn't have customers we'd have to share with another girl. So I talked to her a little bit, and I sat beside her sometimes at meals, but we weren't that close. If I saw her again, I have no idea how we would react to each other, what we'd do if we met in a different place.' She did not know why she was being so open with Malfoy. She told herself it was because he needed all the information she could give him, if it helped him find Tilly. 'Nevertheless, I want to help you find her, and I'm pretty sure I know where she might be. Madame can't have thrown her out, because she was second only to Veronica (she didn't have to change her name because Veronica is a very suitable name for a man to cry out) in how many customers she got, and she can't have run away because she had no family and before she came to Madame's she was living under a bridge without a wand because her ex threw it in the river and she couldn't afford a new one.'

Draco took all this in, silently eating. 'How do you know she was telling the truth?'

'Because we always told the truth to each other. It was like an unwritten code.'

'What did you tell them about you?'

'I told them exactly what I told you, only I left out Harry's name. I said my friends were stifling me, and I tried to lead my own life and live for myself, and I failed miserably at it. That's the truth.'

'So if Tilly hasn't gone back to any potentially problematic relatives, where could she be?' Draco was trying hard to be patient, he really was, but Hermione was taking a while to come to the point and he had waited for information like this for a long time.

'When we get sick, we can't go to St Mungo's because they would start asking questions, and prostitution isn't exactly legal, is it? So there's a private doctor Madame sends us to because he's used to dealing with cases like… he's used to dealing with STDs. That's the only other place she can be that I can think of.'

Draco laughed. 'Granger, you're bloody marvellous. We would never have thought of that, and even if we had, we'd have no idea where to look. Seems like rescuing you had its advantages after all, even if I am going to have to spend the night on the couch.'

Hermione's fork clattered to the floor.