"TIES THAT BIND"

2.

"Albus, are you sure it is wise to let her accompany him by herself?" McGonagall stood restlessly, wringing her hands, "Couldn't we at least send a squad to guard them?"

Dumbledore only shook his head. "Harry will be sought out enough as it is, we cannot allow him to become even more conspicuous."

Minerva opened her mouth to voice a rebuttal, but clamped it shut. He was right and arguing about it was a waste of what little time they had left.

"Really now, do you believe I would send them out without even the slightest protection?" His eyes twinkled, "They'll be just fine."

"But how are you so certain of this? Who will protect them when every person here will be occupied? And how can you protect them magically when you must put everything you have left into the—?"

"You must trust me, just as everyone is trusting Hermione to watch over Harry, and trusting Harry to defeat Voldemort."

McGonagall winced ever so slightly. Not from the use of the Dark Lord's name, but the hard determination in Dumbledore's voice and the fire burning in his eyes. She surrendered a small nod.

--

"Hermione?" The tent flap was pulled open and Harry stepped in.

She looked up from her cot and gave him a weak smile. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before rushing forward and crushing his friend in a tight embrace.

"There's nothing I can say to make you leave, is there." It wasn't a question. They had already argued about it before and Hermione balked at the idea of abandoning her friend.

"He loved you, you know. Ron. He'd kill me if I let anything happen to you. Heck, he'd kill me for saying this but," Harry sat down beside her; things Hermione had never known about were gushing from his lips. "He was going to ask you to marry him, the same night he was captured. He'd planned it all out, bought you a ring even the Malfoys couldn't insult."

Hermione stared, dazed, unsure of how to reply. "But I…"

"I guess it was a good thing he died then, huh?" Harry continued monotone, not hearing her. "You didn't love him did you? Not in that way, I mean."

She looked down at her feet, unable to look at her friend any longer. Thinking over what Harry had said, she thought back to the one she'd given her heart to. Tears formed in her eyes as she remembered.

"Oh, Harry…"

"Just thought I should tell you since I probably won't get the chance later." He stood up and left, leaving Hermione crying softly into her hands.

--

"Hey, you," Someone roughly grabbed his shoulder, "Yer da wants you."

He jerked his shoulder from the offending hand and hissed, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands."

"Freak."

He spun around. Before anyone could blink, he had the man on the ground with an arm pressing down on his windpipe.

"What did you call me?"

The man sputtered, arms flailing, unable to speak.

"Draco, let him go." Another hooded figure stepped out from the shadows with a deadly elegance. "All I wanted were a few words with my son and I find him attacking my messenger."

Draco Malfoy straightened, not being at all careful with his arm on the man's neck.

"Father," he nodded a greeting.

Lucius turned and walked away, the silent order to follow was not lost upon the young man. Draco obeyed, leaving the messenger on the ground gasping for air.

--

"You've been watching me for a long while," He spoke towards the leaves above him. "If you don't move soon, your leg will cramp. It'll be quite painful, I might add."

There was no response. He lay down on the wide branch and waited. No less than a minute later, a moan of pain echoed down and someone fell onto the branch barely managing to cling to it and keep from falling farther.

"I told you so." His voice held a hint of amusement in it.

"Blaise, what are you doing here?"

"Did you honestly think that if you just popped over I'd spill my heart and soul out to you and willingly follow you home like a little lost puppy?" he replied. "The only reason you came is because Father can't be seen anywhere near here."

"Mister Zabini is a powerful man and—!"

"And deserves all the respect his 'insubordinate son' can offer," Blaise recited. "So I've heard. Now get to why you're really here."

"I, Stefan, loyal servant to the Zabini line, am here to escort you home. You're father specifically stated that—."

Blaise interrupted the man once again, "Did you really have to say all that? It's only me here, and I couldn't care less about the frills and rituals of the high-class society."

"Well then, since you intend to stay, I have other orders." Stefan fumbled with his overcoat.

"Finally." Blaise eyed him suspiciously, just in case. His father was not one to let things go easily.

"Here," Stefan held out a fist "It's from your mother."

Blaise reached out a cautious hand and Stefan dropped the object into his open palm. His eyes widened once he saw what it was.

A small grin spread across his face. "Tell my mother to look at my Book, if she hasn't already. Oh, and I'm sure she has something to help that cramp."