Disclaimer: there is liberal 'borrowing' of dialogue & scenes during flashbacks from Half-Blood Prince, though if you ask me if it's from the screenplay or the book, I'm not quite sure anymore. Regardless, it's obviously not mine, well, the recognisable parts anyway.

AN: I wasn't originally going to post again so soon, but I won't be able to post for the next week or so, due to travel.

As always...enjoy. *kisses*

Understanding Malfoy

"You've been downright unbearable since we had dinner with Granger. If I wasn't absolutely certain your mother would Avada me on the spot, I'd kill you with my bare hands." Blaise Zabini snarled, more than a little irritated with being downright trapped in bloody Dorchester.

"You're free to leave, by all means use my Floo." Draco gestured toward the stone laid hearth and stepped into his small garden.

Blaise followed as quickly as his hungover limbs would allow, and silently cursed the daylight. It wasn't difficult to find Draco, as his garden wasn't nearly the impressive maze of Malfoy Manor. He grunted and sat upon one of the many garden chairs littering the store area in the shade.

"I would, in fact, I'd blood love to, but I promised your mother I'd keep an eye on you, as it seems she was quite concerned with your well being."

"Don't remind me." Draco grumbled, carefully sipping a piping hot mug of coffee.

"It seems someone needs too. You're cantankerous and that's putting it mildly. Come on mate, Astoria isn't horrid, at least you're friends." Blaise drank his tepid tea, willing the pounding behind his eyes to quell.

"Friends? Absolutely not, I tolerate her because it's expected of me. I shagged her a few times while we were in school because…"

"Granger wouldn't." Blaise snickered, pleased with himself.

"I never tried to shag Granger, thank you very much. She and I were friends, quite good friends actually and that's all it was." Draco smashed his white porcelain mug to the ground before kicking over his garden chair.

"You're very angry for someone who's only lost a friend. I suppose if your father ever managed to keel over and die, you'd be free to pursue your friendship with her. Or you could grow a pair and tell your father to fuck right off, but who am I to say?" Blaise picked the blueberries off the top of his muffin and aimed for the blonde wizard's head. He missed, but it gave him pleasure nonetheless.

"If only it were that easy. In fact, I wish it were that easy. I wish I could simply march straight into Malfoy Manor and tell my arse of a father it'll be a cold day in Muggle hell before I marry Astoria or anyone for that matter, but I can't. You're going to ask why and I'll save you the trouble. We've already signed the precursor." Draco groaned heavily, cursing his hangover.

Blaise squinted, his head spinning while he watched Draco pace the stone of his modest garden. While he didn't know the specifics of his mate's Betrothal Contract, he knew they were almost always iron clad. He also knew Lucius Malfoy's temper was notoriously merciless and he didn't relish the idea of his mate confined to the dungeons.

"Tori's been speaking with Granger about the Contract. If Granger can't find some sort of legality to release you, I doubt anyone could. Don't even think of shouting at me. Tori happened to mention it at dinner last week."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco finally ceased his pacing in order to sit beside Blaise. He scowled at the blueberry muffins, angrily tossing them over the garden wall.

"Frankly, I didn't wish to get your hopes up for naught. Tori asked me to keep it from you. Considering your interactions with Granger over dinner, I'm not surprised. She's not a jealous sort of witch Draco, but I doubt any woman would appreciate their intended fawning over another the way you did." Blaise blinked hard, sure the spotted sunlight was causing him to see things.

Draco Malfoy blushed lightly, quickly wiping his cheeks as if he could wash away such a blatant show of emotion. He disliked the implications that he and Hermione Granger were more than they had been. No matter how many times he had insisted they were truly only friends, his drunken confession of a singular kiss had marred every attempt to convince his mate.

"You don't understand…"

"Bloody tell me then. It's not as if I haven't badgered you incessantly, and you still refuse to even entertain the notion of telling me your secrets. I don't even know how your so-called friendship with her even started. As far as I knew, you hated each other on sight and then magically you're the best of mates? What the actual fuck man?" Draco drew a slow, deep breath, shoving his anxiety to the wayside.

"Alright, you're right. I haven't been particular forthcoming, but you have to understand the circumstances." Draco ran his fingers through his mussed locks and grit his teeth. "There are only seven people who happen to know how it happened, including me, and three of them are dead." Draco resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, instead unsteadily meeting the wary gaze of an imposing Italian wizard.

He couldn't say he and Blaise had a lifelong friendship, fact of the matter is they hadn't. Blaise had always been the sort to keep to himself, avoiding the cliques among their house in favour of being quite studious. He'd always believed Draco Malfoy to be arrogant and overrated. If it wasn't for the subtle differences he'd personally observed following the Second Wizarding War; Blaise and Draco both knew they wouldn't be as close as they were.

"I'm going to need a drink, aren't I?" Blaise used a quick, wandless 'Accio' and expertly caught the bottle of single malt whiskey in a single hand.

It was a dark and stormy night, except it wasn't. It was a dark and foreboding night, Voldemort's Dark Mark, glittering a sinister green over the Astronomy Tower, and Draco Malfoy was terrified. He'd never expected to be the one to bring his own school to ruin and it pricked his conscience.

He swallowed hard, hands shaking while he scurried through the corridors under the cover of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, tentatively clutching the Hand of Glory. His breaths were hard and heavy as he slowly climbed the Astronomy Tower and then suddenly, he was there.

He painstakingly conversed with Albus Dumbledore, desperately clinging to the raging voice in his head, which threatened not only his life, but also that of his mother. He didn't have a choice, he knew he didn't, yet he also knew in the deepest heart of his bones, he didn't wish to murder his Headmaster. Draco Malfoy didn't wish to murder anyone at all. He regretted ever abiding his father's demands, despite the punishments.

"I knew a boy once who made all the wrong choices, let me help you Draco." Albus Dumbledore's eyes shifted and Draco was wary but also furious.

"I don't want your help! Don't you see?! I have to do it! I have too!" Draco's voice wavered and it was almost as if he was muttering to himself. "I've got to kill you, or he'll kill me."

"Say that again, Draco. But aloud this time." Draco looked deep into Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes, his breaths raspy and unsure, with trembling hands.

His wand shook between his fingers and his resolve faltered. Draco lowered his wand slightly, his shoulders slumping in defeat, but the thundering sound of footsteps stopped him in his maneuvers. He held his breath, glancing hastily over his shoulder and cringed.

"Well now, look what we have here. Dumbledore. Wandless and alone." Bellatrix Lestrange pouted in feigned sadness, but Draco knew better. "Cornered in his own castle. Well done, Draco." Bellatrix clapped loudly, mocking him, but Draco didn't care a wit about his psychotic aunt.

He spied the strangest sight, his breath caught in his throat. Bellatrix and Greyback continued to barrage him, to force his hand to murder Albus Dumbledore, but Draco was distracted. If he wasn't completely insane, Draco could have sworn he saw fucking Hermione Granger skulking about.

He was blocking out the shouts of Bellatrix and Greyback, moments away from clutching his skull in agony, when the impossible happened. Mudblood Granger looked right into his startled eyes and held her finger to her lips. He blinked and Harry Potter was beside her, completely immobile until she waved her wand.

Draco stared between Bellatrix and Greyback, slowly finding his way back to Dumbledore once more. He didn't want to die. He didn't want his mother to die. He didn't want anyone to die really, but what choice was there?

"No." Draco Malfoy's favourite teacher stepped into view, his lips pursed, his dark greasy hair swinging.

Draco waited for him to comment about Potter and Granger's presence but Severus Snape didn't give any indication he'd seen anything untoward.

"Severus…" It seemed to Draco, Dumbledore had a pleading sort of quality to his voice, which confused him.

While his father has never respected the Headmaster, Draco had never heard the imposing wizard sound so weak. He sounded almost broken and if his Headmaster was broken, then what hope did Draco have?

"Well, look who's here. Hogwarts own Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Come to see the slaughter?" Bellatrix tossed her long black locks back and cackled, which is exactly when they struck.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!"

"Protego!" Draco wasn't expecting to be shoved by none other than Professor Snape.

His feet slid across the slick stone of the Astronomy Tower and Draco crashed into his Headmaster, dragging him to the ground. His immediate inclination was to apologise, but he spied Albus Dumbledore's withered black hand and gasped.

"It's alright my dear boy. It's best if you remain where you are. It would be a terrible thing to be caught in the cross-fire now." Dumbledore smiled kindly, yet it was obvious the gesture was laced with pain.

"What do you mean?" Draco hissed, cringing, ducking even as the blinding lights of spells cast shattered around them.

"You have a real chance now, Draco. You've taken the first step toward disproving your father's beliefs. You are not weak. You are not a coward. You have become a man, and I wish I were able to see all you are to become." An ominous feeling settled in Draco's chest and he wasn't the least bit fond of it.

"I-I didn't do it. I mean, I'm sure my life is forfeit, but I didn't do it. I don't understand..." Draco hastily wiped the wet droplets from his cheeks, practically leaping from his skin when Severus lightly touched his shoulder.

He stared wide-eyed, taking in the fallen wizards littering the Astronomy Tower. His vicious Aunt Bellatrix was magically bound and seemingly Silenced as her mouth moved at a rapid pace, but not a word was spoken. Potter's chest was heaving and his wand was firmly lodged in her throat.

"Draco, go and aid Ms. Granger." Severus Snape gestured behind him toward the Muggle-born witch.

It seemed Hermione Granger was riddled with fury. While Fenrir Greyback was obviously unconscious, it wasn't the slightest deterrent. She continuously kicked the werewolf in his ribs, grunting as each blow landed. Her cheek was marred with a cut from beneath her eye to her chin, blood steadily flowing, though it didn't seem to bother her.

"Severus…" Dumbledore groaned, stretching his good hand forward imploring the wizard before him.

Draco didn't relish the weakness displayed and while he'd done his best to avoid the witch in question, she was the lesser of two evils. He would have immediately balked toward offering assistance to Potter in any way, shape or form, but it seemed Granger was a bit mental.

"Granger…"

"Bastard, aiming to murder innocent children." Hermione Granger accentuated every word with a well-placed kick, ignoring the platinum blonde beside her.

"Granger, you do realise you're killing him."

"Good." Her hands were shaking and her hair was a wild mess, but she finally made eye contact. It took her but a moment, but she composed herself quite quickly. "I'm glad you didn't…I mean…yeah, I'm glad you didn't alert them to my presence. Poor Harry was hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak and you looked unsure…" She trailed off, unsure how to actually converse with him.

"I thought I was seeing things actually. Between my lunatic Aunt's shouting and the mere presence of that right bastard, I never imagined you were truly there." Draco smirked, more at the state of Greyback's face than anything, but she didn't know that.

"Hermione, get away from him." Harry Potter ordered as he thumped Bellatrix on the head with his wand, resisting the inherent need to hex her into oblivion.

"Harry, do shut up. Dumbledore asked him to come and aid me. If Dumbledore trusts him enough to send him to me, than you can bloody well trust him as well." Hermione shook her head, turning her back on her first friend, in favour of studying an ill at ease Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster wishes to have a word." Severus sneered as was his way when forced into dealings with Harry Potter, before turning his attention to an enraged Bellatrix.

Harry it seemed, was torn between his Headmaster and his best friend, but in the end he went to Dumbledore's side, knowing Hermione could defend herself if necessary. Draco was still conflicted as to his allegiance, his worry being his family, his mother specifically and he couldn't help but to stare at Professor Snape.

"The Order will protect her Draco." Severus was exceedingly weary with the entire situation, knowing what must be done in the end and feeling heavy of heart.

"I hate it when you do that." Draco spat, his lip curling at the invasion of his thoughts.

"Ms. Granger, I do believe the beast is quite unable to cause you harm. Perhaps you might refrain from abusing your prisoner." Severus was slightly amused to see the Muggle-born witch rattled, but the only allusion to such emotions was a flicker in the corner of his mouth.

"How could you let him here, into your schools, where your bloody friends live? How could…" Hermione stifled a sob, angry with herself for showing the slightest bit of weakness.

"I-I didn't know he'd come. I didn't think…"

"Obviously." Severus sniffed dryly, slowing turning his back on Bellatrix Lestrange, which was an error.

"Consorting with Mudbloods and traitors, I shouldn't be surprised. You always were weak." Bellatrix had finally calmed her rage long enough to free herself and deftly snatched her wand from the ground where Harry Potter had stupidly discarded it.

Severus turned on his toe, brandishing his wand, but Bellatrix was fast, ridiculously fast. She muttered a spell and before Draco could even comprehend the dire situation, Professor Snape slumped against the wall, unconscious. Hermione gasped, drawing the deranged witches attention, a sinister gleam in her dark eyes as the witch stepped forward. Draco, in a moment which could only be construed as confusion, deftly sidestepped, covertly protecting the small witch, from his Aunt's wrath.

"You have failed. I knew you would. I told the Dark Lord, but he refused to listen to me. It seems he retains a bit of faith in your loyalties, but I knew better. Step aside Draco, redeem yourself, and finish off the Mudblood."

"It's alright." Hermione murmured, while raising her hand slowly and placing it upon his back.

"No. No! It's not alright. She hasn't done anything to you, to anyone!" Bellatrix's dark eyes narrowed, her blood red lips snarling with distaste as she pointed her wand at her only nephew.

"Who cares? She's a Mudblood. This is war, better her than you. Of course, I have no issue with sending you to join her. Step aside. She doesn't deserve her magic. She doesn't deserve to LIVE! Avad…"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Draco spat the Killing Curse with a pent up venom of hatred for the woman who had tortured him in pleasure, his stomach rolling when her eyes widened and Bellatrix Lestrange crumpled to the floor, dead.

"Y-You protected…her." Harry studied the ill looking Slytherin through new eyes, averting his gaze quickly as the other wizard was violently sick on the floor. He turned to his immobile Professor and sighed. "Renneverate."

While Draco was wiping the back of his hand across his lips, Severus Snape sat up in alarm, breathing a sigh of relief when he spied Bellatrix's corpse. He looked to Albus, who only shook his head, gesturing toward none other than Draco Malfoy. The disbelief was evident, before Severus assumed his naturally apathetic form. He stood on unsteady limbs, brushing off The Boy Who Lived's offered arm.

"I'm…proud of you." Draco turned, glancing between Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, his blonde hair flopping across his forehead.

"It's all the same, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"Whatever do you mean, my boy?" The sounds of spells crashing and wizards shouting escalated and Severus knew they didn't have much more time.

Draco studied the cut along Hermione Granger's cheek before answering. Using the thumb of his right hand, he reached forward, ignoring her gasp. He placed his thumb directly on the mark and slowly swiped it down the length of it, barely whispering a healing spell. He stared at the streak of red on his finger and looked up into the inquisitive eyes of Severus Snape.

"Her blood, my blood, it's all the same…" Severus inclined his head before turning to gaze upon Albus Dumbledore.

"I gave my word. I made a vow." He spoke the words quietly, directed at Harry Potter, rather than the Headmaster.

Professor Severus Snape drew his wand and pointed it at the man who had always known where his true allegiance laid. Draco drew short breaths, aching to step forward, but a petite hand slipped into his, keeping him still. He stared down at her lightly tanned hand in his and swallowed hard. As he opened his mouth to comment on the bizarre situation, a jet of green light flew forth from Snape's wand, hitting Dumbledore squarely in the chest.

"You can no longer stay here." Severus Snape's dark eyes linger on clasped hands, a pang of regret causing him to flinch.

"You're going to leave? You can't just leave, you coward!" Harry Potter shouted, and even Draco was taken aback by the pain in his voice.

"Coward? Really, Potter? Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?" Snape shoved the boy with the lightning scar, refusing to look into his eyes.

"He can't stay, Harry. We have a real chance to defeat Voldemort and if he discovers Professor Snape has been loyal to Dumbledore, it'll be catastrophic. Surely you're capable of seeing the logic." Draco felt her trembling beside him and while he now knew his Professor had made an Unbreakable Vow to protect him, he was sure she had realised such things.

"They'll kill you if you stay." Snape implored his charge to accompany him, but in the end, he knew the boy would remain behind.

"No, we won't. They'll kill him if he goes with you. You might be perfectly safe among vipers but…"

"I assure you, Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy's life is my utmost concern."

"I'm sure, I mean obviously, but while you're quite accomplished in Occlumency, he isn't. I can't imagine any of the events in the past hour going over particularly well with Volde…"

"Yesss, Ms. Granger, I get the point." Severus hissed, displeased when the obvious was pointed out by one of his students, especially her. "And who is going to protect him here, you?" He sneered, detesting every moment wasted arguing with children.

"I am capable of speaking for myself…" Draco interjected, feeling uncomfortable watching Harry Potter stare off the Astronomy Tower, presumably at his deceased Headmaster.

"Yes, if need be. I don't imagine anyone giving him difficulty if he stays with Harry and I."

Blaise snorted, half drunk, once more, on his delectable whiskey. It was easy to imagine Hermione Granger drawing herself to her full ridiculous height to face down the most intimidating Professor at Hogwarts.

"That's when you fell in love with her yeah?" Blaise snickered then shouted when Draco cuffed him about the head.

"I'm not in love with her! I keep telling you! I wish you'd fucking listen already!"

"What is it that Squib said? Oh yeah, I remember now. Methinks doth do protest too much. Ow! Stop hitting me!" Blaise finally struck out, shoving Draco from his person.

Of course, he shoved a bit too hard, and Draco crashed into a young sapling, near the stonewall of his garden. Blaise fully expected an all out brawl and braced himself for impact. Instead, Draco sat beside the leaning sapling and propped his head in his hands, which he had across his knees.

"Malfoy…Draco, I didn't mean anything by it. C'mon then, tell me about the rest of your adventures."

"You can fuck right off. I don't think I'll tell you another thing." Draco hopped to his feet and stormed into his modest home, slamming the door behind him.

"Good job Blaise, that went well."

Harry Potter scratched his head, sighing heavily while he stood between his two oldest friends. He couldn't quite grasp why they were shouting at each other, as their words had all jumbled together in a delightful nonsensical medley. He hadn't yet drawn his wand, but he was sorely tempted.

"Ron, sit over there. Hermione take a breath and tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?" Hermione refused to even glance in the red-haired wizard's direction.

She picked up one of her floral armchairs and turned it toward her fireplace, rather than leaving it facing Ronald Weasley. She crossed one leg over the other, smoothed the edge of her brown tweed skirt, and folded her fingers.

"Harry, when was my birthday?"

"That's a silly question. You're birthday is September 19th." Harry smiled pleased with himself, but knowing her as he did, he was a bit wary as well.

"What's today's date?"

"October 27th, is there a point to this?" Hermione's caramel eyes narrowed and Harry knew he had definitely stepped in it.

"Perhaps you'd do to inform your best mate Ronald Weasley of these little facts, as it seems he's forgotten how to calculate. It also seems he has the gall to be angry with me, for a dinner I had with a delightful group of Slytherin's last week after he had cancelled on me, yet again." Hermione Granger bounced her foot, resolutely pretending a certain Gryffindor didn't exist.

"That's what this is all about?" Harry shook his head and glanced over at a red-faced Ron Weasley. "Ron, you've put off her birthday for weeks. I saw her when she was out with Zabini…"

"And Malfoy…" Ron spat, interrupting his friend easily. He'd always allowed his anger to get the best of him and this time wasn't any different.

"So what? Malfoy's an alright bloke. His engagement to Astoria Greengrass was announced just the other day, it's not like you've anything to worry about." Ron's cheeks shone, his hands trembling when he leapt from his seat.

"Seamus saw them and they were bloody dancing Harry. Not only that, but she cancelled lunch with me to have tea with Astoria Greengrass!"

"Hermione likes to dance. It's not as if you're going to dance with her and I'm certainly not going to do it, for that matter. You have to admit we're right shit at it. Why shouldn't she dance with someone who isn't going to break her toes?" Harry flounced onto Hermione's sofa and considered propping his feet on her coffee table, but he didn't wish to die.

"Her dress was backless, Harry." Ron groaned dramatically and chanced a glance at his perturbed girlfriend.

"Ask him why I was wearing that particular dress in the first place, Harry. I dare you."

"I can hazard a guess and I'm bloody well sure it has nothing to do with Malfoy. You've really got to get over this Ron. They're friends. Hell, Malfoy was a better friend to her than we were, when they went back to Hogwarts. You're going to drive her away with your petty jealousy if you can't grow up." Harry had much more important things to do than play mediator, especially where Ron was concerned. The flagrant acts of jealousy were wearing on his nerves and he wasn't even a woman. He couldn't imagine how Hermione felt about it.

"Malfoy is rich, entitled, arrogant, and he hates me. He's got everything he's ever wanted, and all I have is Hermione, if you think about it. She's brilliant and her hair is much better than it was when we were kids. He could have anyone, he doesn't need to be friends with her, she's mine." Ron puffed out his chest and Harry muttered 'oh shit' under his breath before Hermione leapt to her feet.

"Yours? I'm yours? I wasn't aware I was a possession. I was under the misconception that I was capable of being my own woman and doing whatever I liked. I also believed I was capable of formulating relationships that don't revolve around you. Silly me, I was mistaken as it's obvious I'm only capable of being Ronald Weasley's girlfriend." Hermione shoved Ron, feeling satisfaction course through her when he was upended over the chair. "Harry, I love you, but I can't be here right now. I don't wish to do anything I probably won't regret. Please, get him out of here."

Hermione Granger quickly kissed Harry's brow before storming out of her cottage near the sea. She didn't have a destination in mind, she simply needed to walk. She needed to feel the fresh air fill her lungs, enjoy the last flickers of sunlight, and rid her mind of Ron Weasley.

She cared about Ron, she knew she did. Maybe she even loved him, sometimes she wasn't sure. Most of the time, they meshed well, as long as his temper was held in check. Hermione knew Ron wasn't aware of every detail concerning Draco Malfoy's defection to the Order, and he still harboured animosity toward childhood bullying.

While she understood his anger, Hermione fervently wished he'd simply trust her. From the moment Ron learned Draco was returning to Hogwarts, he was up in arms. It didn't matter how much information Malfoy had provided the Order, Ron was determined to hate him.

Hermione had immediately begged Harry and even Malfoy to tell Ron everything, but they had adamantly refused. She didn't completely understand their stubbornness, she still didn't, but it wasn't just her story to tell. It made sense for Malfoy to disagree with her at every turn, especially where Ron was concerned, but what boggled her mind was Harry.

As she wandered the emptying streets and smiled at Muggle tourists, her thoughts strayed not to Ron and his temper, not to Draco and their intimate moments, but to Harry. He had been a nervous wreck when he'd seen her seated with the Slytherins and she knew it wasn't because of her company. He was hiding something from her and that didn't sit well at all.

"I need to think." Hermione muttered to herself, wishing she had thought to bring her overcoat. Instead, she stepped into a darkened alley between two dark stone buildings and Apparated.