A/N

So, after thinking through my planned plot for this story, I need to make a minor adjustment in the first chapter and change the location where Harry and Hermione are currently staying from Grimmauld Place to the Weasley's. I plan on staying somewhat close to the seventh book's plot while the trio is off searching for horcruxes but I mistakenly thought that they were already at Grimmauld Place at this point when, in fact, they are not supposed to have gone there yet. So, my apologies for that (:

Also, I hope it's not too confusing that I am mixing in scenes from the past in this chapter. I hate italicizing things, so I tried to make it very obvious that they are recollections of past events. If you find it confusing, though, let me know and I'll fix it.

If you haven't already, you should definitely check out my other story :D

Enjoy this new chapter and review, review, review :D

Chapter Two - A Terrible Day For A Wedding

Draco Malfoy had been locked in a safe house for months now and he had made his dissatisfaction with his current housing arrangements very clear to anyone he came in contact with. Unfortunately for Hermione, she and Snape were the only two people he had seen since his embarrassing malfunction in the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. Just after that encounter - after Snape had fulfilled the duties of his Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa by killing Hogwart's Headmaster - was when Hermione had gotten tangled up in everything.

She remembered every detail of that night clearly. She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She hadn't even been paying attention to what was happening when Snape had pushed his way out of the door to the Astronomy Tower. He had pulled Draco behind him, a fistful of the blonde's school uniform grasped in his white knuckled hand.

She had been reading a book when they breezed past her.

Snape was muttering something under his breath but stopped mid-sentence and turned his icy stare to Hermione. "Miss Granger," he had drawled, walking towards her and leaving a shaken Draco to stand by himself. "How convenient of you to be here, eavesdropping on my personal conversation."

"Perhaps next time," she spoke, "you shouldn't hold such personal conversations in public, Professor." She had never much liked Snape and his bad mood tonight was doing nothing to reverse her opinions of him.

"Do you follow instructions as well as you mock professors, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Of course," she scoffed. "If the instructions are reasonable."

"Good." He grabbed her arm, yanking it towards him roughly and placing a piece of crumpled up parchment in his hand. His fingers pressed hard into her arm. "There's a portkey inside of this paper. Take Draco with you and wait for me."

"Oh-okay," she nodded, pressing the parchment tight against her palm. She breathed out shakily as he released her arm and stepped away.

"Go with her, boy," Snape hissed condescendingly at Draco.

"But Professor," Draco said, all but whimpering. Hermione watched the interaction curiously.

"How could you dare to disobey me after all that I've done for you?" Snape crossed quickly to the blonde boy, eyes dark with anger. "You will go with her and you will not move until I arrive. Am I understood?"

Draco's response was too quiet for her to make out. Snape walked briskly away from them afterwards, though, pausing at the end of the hallway to warn, "do not try to open the door, Miss Granger. The consequences will not be pleasant," before disappearing around the corner.

"I feel like I'm missing a lot of information," Hermione murmured, looking down at the package in her hand.

"He's told you everything you need to know, Granger," Draco snarled, walking towards her. "You don't always have to know it all."

"Why should I go anywhere with you? Or trust him?"

"For such a goody-two-shoes you're being really difficult about showing compassion," he sighed, running his hand through his ruffled blonde hair. She had never seen Malfoy this flustered before. The wall he usually hid his emotions behind seemed to have a few holes in it today. He seemed to have a decent hold on his composure now, but a second ago she would have sworn she saw tears gathering in his eyes. She knew that something terrible must have happened for him to be this unhinged.

"Do I have your word that you won't hurt me?" she asked.

"Does my word mean anything to you?" he replied.

"If I'm going to help you, I need to trust that you are not a danger to my well being."

"It's not something you should be concerned about, Granger," he said, laughing a terribly empty laugh. "I couldn't even kill a sickly old man, let alone someone who was strong enough to fight back."

"What does that-"

"It's none of your business," he growled. "Now, are we going to get out of here or not?"

She eyed him for a moment, taking in the signs of stress written all over his face. They both knew that she was not going to say no to him - not when he so blatantly needed her. In the end, it was part curiosity and part sympathy that caused her to unwrap the portkey and be pulled into the unknown with Malfoy.


Hermione slept much later than she had intended to and was unable to slip quietly out of Harry's room before everyone woke up. When she finally did rouse at nearly eight a.m., she was still curled up against her snoring best friend. He pulled her closer when she tried to wiggle free of his arm and she sighed. With all of the Weasley's and guests that were in this house - for Fleur and Bill's wedding - there would certainly be someone to view her walk of shame down the stairs and back to the room she was sharing with Ginny and two other girls. The girls would have certainly noticed her absence and would be grilling her about it as soon as they found her.

She wiggled around again and managed to turn over so that she was facing him. Harry had originally been sharing a tiny room in the attic with Bill, but Bill had snuck off to sleep in Fleur's bed - in Hermione's room - every single night. That meant that Harry wound up being the only person in the entire household who did not have to share a room with anyone else. Until Hermione had come along and started intruding on his sleep, of course.

Not that he minded. He had assured her of that the third night that she stayed.

"Harry," she said, reaching her un-trapped arm up to tousle his hair. "Harry, it's eight in the morning. We need to get up and pack everything."

"Not 'til nine," he murmured, hooking one of his legs around hers.

"Harry, I need to get up," she rephrased. "I slept here all night. Someone will notice."

"What are you on about?"

"It's already eight," she repeated. "I forgot to sneak back into my room, so I need to go now. We've got to pack and go to the wedding, remember?"

"Who cares that you're in my room?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "Just tell them we couldn't sleep so we stayed up late talking. We're best friends, 'Mione. It's not like you've never slept in the same bed as me."

"You're right, you're right," she nodded, exhaling deeply. "I'm just so paranoid about someone finding out about… this."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world, would it? To be found out for sleeping with me?"

"Merlin, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." She wanted to slap herself. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"Although Ron would be quite pissed if he found out we were shagging," Harry pointed out.

"Ron? He's with Lavender, isn't he?"

"She's just a fling. You know he's always fancied you."

"An eight month long fling?" Hermione countered. "And I don't fancy him back, so it's a moot point anyway."

"He's only seventeen," Harry shrugged. "Maybe she's a good lay. She does have really big-"

"Shut up!" she pushed her fingers into her ears. "I do not want to hear anyone else talking about Lavender's breasts. Everyone understands that they are large and wonderful or whatever, but that doesn't mean that they should be discussed every single day."

"Jealous, are we?" he raised his eyebrows. "If it makes you feel any better, yours are perfectly adequate."

"Adequate? They're adequate?" she scoffed, finally freeing herself of his grip and getting off of the bed. He hadn't meant to at all, but he had struck a nerve, jerking her back into an unwanted memory from months ago. Malfoy had once described her as adequate. He had been trying to rile her up, too, and he had succeeded. It was one of the few times that they had joked together. She had enjoyed his company that day and…

She pushed the thought away. It was bad to think about him at all, but it was even worse to remember any of the few happy memories of him. She walked towards Harry's door, barely making it before he turned her around to face him, chuckling as he backed her gently up against the wall. She concentrated on remembering this moment, instead, pretending that she could simply rewind and re-record over Malfoy entirely.

"Your breasts are wonderful," Harry said, kissing her jawbone.

"You're just saying that because they're the only breasts you've got a chance at seeing any time soon, what with our grand plans to go searching for horcruxes and whatnot."

"We could go back to bed for another half hour, Herms," he said, lining his forehead up with hers and rubbing her lower back. "Nothing's going to be the same after we leave tonight."

"I'll miss this," she admitted, biting her lip. "It's been nice to have someone to sleep next to."

"Who says we have to stop?" he asked.

"We'll be sharing a tent with Ron, Harry."

"A huge tent, with separate bedrooms."

"And if he walks in?"

"He won't," Harry shrugged, kissing her. "And if he does, then we'll tell him the truth. You should really stop worrying so much, 'Mione. All you need to think about right now is if you want come back to bed with me or go downstairs for breakfast."

"You're ridiculous, Harry Potter," she told him, shaking her head.

"No more than you," he winked, locating a ticklish spot on her side. He won out a few minutes later and the pair stumbled back into his tiny bed, curled up together for a few more moments of peace before beginning their hectic day.


A week after blindly trusting Professor Snape and arriving by portkey in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere with Draco Malfoy, Hermione had found herself traveling back to see the blonde-headed bastard. Snape had asked her to stay after potions class that day and, once everyone had left, he handed her a large, heavy bag.

"I presume this is your last class of the day, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, struggling to hold the bag up.

"Good. I'll need you to take this to Mister Malfoy. I will not have time to visit him until later this week and he will certainly be in need of fresh clothes and new food."

"But Professor I-"

"You said you were not busy, correct?" Snape hissed.

"Yes, but I-"

"I want to make myself very clear, Miss Granger," he took a step closer to her and she stepped back a few inches. "By now I am sure you know precisely why I have placed the young Mister Malfoy in hiding." Hermione nodded and felt unwanted tears gathering again at the reminder of Dumbledore's death. "So, then, you understand the importance of keeping his location quiet and the amount of responsibility that I was forced to so haphazardly hand to you."

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

"We are the only two human beings on this entire planet who know of his whereabouts and, thus, the only two human beings capable of keeping him alive. As I'm sure you are already aware, I am currently balancing a tedious allegiance to both the Dark Lord himself and to the Order of the Phoenix all whilst still performing my teaching duties. Would you presume that a person in my position with my responsibilities would have enough time to add on the task of bringing food and clothing to a fugitive?"

"No, sir," she shook her head, still biting back tears.

"Are you capable of fulfilling this task for me, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well," he took a step back and turned to his desk. She let out a deep, shaky breath that she had not remembered holding. "He will not be expecting anyone, so be prepared for any adverse reactions he may have. I trust that you are skilled enough with your wand to neutralize him if necessary. Do you have any further questions?"

"Just one, sir," she said. "How long will he be there?"

"As long as is necessary, Miss Granger," Snape responded. He turned to her again, fixing her with a serious stare, and asked, "are you willing to commit to the cause, Miss Granger? Or shall I appoint someone else."

"There's no need for that," she assured him, rising to his obvious challenge. She pulled out her wand and murmured a shrinking spell on the bag, slipping it into her school bag. "I will be needing another portkey, though."

The potions teacher watched her for a moment, a perplexing combination of emotions showing through his usually imperceptible eyes, before reaching into a drawer of his desk and producing another crumpled handful of parchment.

"You are of legal age to apparate now, are you not?" he asked, placing the parchment in her hand. She nodded. "I will owl you with the date and time of my next visit and apparate there with you. I don't have the time of patience to make another portkey."

"Ok," she answered. She stood there for a moment afterwards, not entirely sure what else to say, until Snape raised his eyebrow questioningly. She settled for a head-nod goodbye and hurried out of his office and down the hallway, allowing only one tear to fall before pulling herself back together again.

She would not know until weeks later just what she had gotten herself into.


Bill and Fleur's wedding had gone fantastically; it was during the reception, though, that everything had gone to shit. A Patronus belonging to Kingsley Shaklebolt arrived halfway through the festivities to inform the entire party about the death of Rufus Scrimgeour and about Lord Voldemort's newly gained control over the Ministry of Magic. Everyone was devastated - to say the least - and began to scurry around talking in panicked voices.

As unfortunate as the situation was, though, Hermione could not have imagined a more perfect moment for the Golden Trio to disappear for their adventure. They apparated just outside of 12 Grimmauld Place and were walking for the doorway when Hermione suddenly doubled over in pain. Ron's face went white when she puked into the bushes, but Harry hurried to her side.

"Again?" he whispered. "Hermione -"

"I'll kill him," she hissed under her breath, wiping at her mouth with the skirt of her dress.

"Kill who?" Harry asked. "V-volde-"

"No, no," she assured him, straightening again.

"You're really starting to worry me," Harry said.

"Yeah, er, me too," Ron spoke up, still white-faced and anxious. He looked as shaky as she felt.

"I would tell you if I could," she said to Harry, staring into his green eyes and begging him to understand.

"You made an Unbreakable Vow?" he asked. She shook her head. "No, right, you're smarter than that. Then you're under some kind of spell?"

"That I can't talk to you about," she said. "I'm really sorry, but I've really got to go. It's the only way to-"

"Make it stop," Harry finished. "I know, I know. You're going somewhere safe, right?"

"Yes," she said, though it was not entirely the truth. She reached up unconsciously to a scar on her side - hidden by the dress - that was more than enough proof of just how unsafe and unstable Malfoy could be. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

"We'll wait for you," Harry promised. She leaned into him as he hugged her tightly and whispered, "please don't get hurt." She hugged Ron, too, and then disapparated away from her two worried best friends.