Author's Note: Sorry, I have taken so long to post. My laptop is not working right now, it crashed. I am just using a friend's.
Anyway, this is totally a spur of the moment chapter, I just wanted to get something out there. Hope you like it anyway, leave a review, wether it be a good one or a bad one.

"Wait, a minute. What did you just say?" Ron had just joined Harry and Hermoine at the small table in Hargid's. "Dumbledore wants us to do what?"

"He wants us to go find the Horcruxes - " Hermoine replied.

"No, No, No. I heard that part. But he wants us to go with who? Is he out of his bloody mind?"

Harry couldn't say anything. He was too busy wondering if Dumbledore had gone mad when he was writing this letter; if Draco had gone mad when he decided to leave his parents.

Draco had left Malfoy Manor.

It blew his mind to be honest, not to mention terrified everyone back at Hogwarts.

For two whole weeks that was all Hogwarts talked about.

Everywhere he went, people would stare at him and whisper. The Draco he knew would probably say something spiteful then cast a nasty spell.

Instead, he just didn't seem to care.

Dumbledore thought it would be best if Malfoy came along with them to find the Horcruxes, and he really didn't know if Draco was aware, Draco never approached him, threw him a wary glance .. nothing.

Then again, maybe he did know, and just thought the idea was as mad as it sounds.

"Harry," Ron folded his arms, "Dumbledore never mentioned this to you?"

Harry shook his head. "Never."

"He knows we despise the stupid bloke," Ron walked to a chair and sat down, "is he trying to prove something here?"

"We should go talk to him." Harry stated.

Draco was sitting alone beside a rock just outside the school. No one really came here, and he liked that. He could have this time to himself, he could have the quiet.

He'd begun distancing himself from everything and everyone.

Then he finds this letter.

He wasn't entirely sure how it got in his bag but it was there, addressed to him, from Dumbledore.

The crazy old man wanted him to help the three most vile people he'd ever met in his life.

Bloody hell.

"Just take a knife and slit my fucking throat."

He ran his fingers through his silver, short-cut hair and sighed.

Being close to Potter and the weasel were enough to make his skin crawl.

But Granger?

How would he manage that?