Chapter 3:

There was dried blood on the snow where Granger's tent stood. The Taboo had broken all charms, spells and enchantments that hid people who were running so Draco could clearly see the broken down ruckus that the Snatchers had left. He thought that it served as a warning to those who would come and see this mess; a warning that whispered to them that they were coming.

"Harry…" Granger sobbed behind him. He clenched his fist around his wand, wondering if it would snap under his grip. He felt mad that Snape had left him. He knew that he had survived, he was one of the closest men to the Dark Lord; the Snatchers must've been kissing the ground where the Slytherin stood when they found him.

"He's caught," he spat through gritted teeth as he walked closer to the tent. He heard Granger follow him, "He could be heading straight to the Dark Lord right now."

The tent was slashed and ripped apart with several materials lying on the ground next to it like kettles, blankets and books. Blood was tainted on the pure white snow and Draco shuddered if they were Potter's. The less important stuff was left behind, proving how greedy Snatchers were.

Draco glanced back at Granger who looked really terrified. She stooped down to grab her books, shoving them into that bag of hers. He wondered how they could fit in there but he bit his tongue. This wasn't the time for stupid questions.

"Now what?"

Granger was the one who asked it and he shut his eyes, wondering where to go next. They were both lost, alone except for each other. He didn't resent the fact that he was going to be traveling with her but still, she was the Brightest Witch of Their Age.

"We travel. You with finding Potter and me…trying to figure out what to do now," he stated, turning towards her while tapping his wand onto his knee.

Tears were streaming down her face and Draco was forced not to say anything that might deepen her bad mood. The last thing he needed was another injury.

Granger walked closer to the tent, her wand rose shakily.

"We need this tent," she said. He nodded silently.

"All yours," he waved his hand and looked around to see if there was any sign of a greasy haired hooked nose man. He was half hoping that Snape would still be here so that he would be whisked away into the safety of Hogwarts. The man was his ticket to solitude.

"Reparo," Granger muttered and the slashes on the tent began stitching itself and the rips were slowly disappearing. He watched as it began to look as good as new. By the time Granger was done, he was already heading inside.

The place was apparently small in his opinion but it would have to do. There was a table, a bunk bed and one extra spare. The place was filled with normal survival materials with books, maps and cooking utensils. It was lighted by a lamp sitting on the middle table and its candle flickered when Granger entered as well.

"We have to Apparate. The Snatchers might come back," she told him.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that, would we, Granger?"

She shrugged. Apparently, jokes were out of bounds as well. He wished he could have chosen a down-to-earth Pureblood not snobbish and cool companion rather than bookish Granger. He sighed and got out, following Granger to the snowy but dreadful night where she stood a few feet from him, watching the starry sky.

He shuffled towards her, not that close but close enough to count the breaths she took. If he were his eleven year old self, he would have remarked how the oxygen was getting tainted by her mere presence but not now, not during the onslaught of war. This was definitely not the time to bring up school rivalries, this was the time to survive and he had to remind himself of that.

"Why are you easy going with me traveling with you?" he asked abruptly, "I tried to kill Dumbledore, I almost tortured Potter last year, I poisoned Weasley, I cursed Katie Bell and I'm practically one of the bad guys here. Why aren't you hexing me right now?"

She took an intake of breath.

"Maybe it's because I know that you're not evil," she said, "You saved me from those Snatchers. I'm just repaying the favor but don't doubt for a second, Malfoy that I don't have a wand pointed at you at all times."

He smirked, amused.

"Great. At least I know that you're still normal," he said.

He thought that she might've smirked as well but thought better of it.

"Let's just get out of here. I know the first place we have to go to," she said confidently that he almost believed that she really did know where to go. One thing he learned about Granger for the past seven years was to never doubt her.

He just merely shrugged as he flicked his wand over the tent where it folded itself completely. Granger watched him in the corner of her eye as he packed the small package of a tent with its poles under his arm. She motioned for him to give it to her. He hesitated, thinking that one touch from her would completely dull his senses with her Mudblood germs but he did it anyway.

She stuffed the tent into that bag of hers. Again, he wondered how it could fit there but shut his mouth.

They covered the tracks and footsteps and when the sun was already blazing above them, Granger grabbed his wrist and the sensation of Apparation overwhelmed him. When he landed on rough snow, he gasped and nearly tumbled to his knees. He needed to get a hang of Apparation.

His vision was a bit blurred but once he raised his head, he could clearly see the large building in front of him. It looked like any ordinary Muggle building and he desperately wished they wouldn't go inside. He hated having to have any contact with Muggles; he thought he might get too much infected with them already.

They were facing the door engraved with the number 12. Granger was staring at it as she was reliving bad memories. Draco backed slightly away from her.

"Where are we?" he asked shrewdly.

"12 Grimmauld Place," she answered grimly, "We were here before so if Harry escaped, this could be the first place he'd go to."

"Is this his house or something?" he looked back at the wilting paint, the solemn silhouette of it and shuddered, "It's bloody sad, like he is."

She shot him a glare and he smirked, mumbling, "Kidding."

"It used to be the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," she said.

"Oh, I feel like a spy," he raised his hands as if surrendering, "I'm joking. Stop giving me that look, Granger, it's intense. Live a little."

"How can I bloody live when we're both in war?"

He didn't answer.

They climbed the stars, rubbing their hands together for warmth. Granger cautiously grabbed the doorknob as if it would sting her and pushed the door open. It was so dark Draco couldn't see the outline of the umbrella stand which he stumbled upon when he walked inside.

Granger laughed quietly as Draco experienced a throbbing pain on his forehead. He pushed himself up and pulled out his wand, muttering "Lumos." The light illuminated the hallway and Draco could see the doors leading to living rooms, kitchen, sitting rooms, etc. There was a long and narrow staircase leading to the second floor and the atmosphere was so thick with suspense and anticipation. Both of them waited to see if an Immortal Prick would pop up in front of their face.

Potter didn't show. Granger took out a step forward, raised her wand and stated,

"Homenum Revelio."

Nothing. Granger sighed, letting her arm drop disappointedly.

"Not here," she mumbled.

"Geez, you don't say?"

She glared at him again. Then, they walked to their different ways; Draco with climbing the stairs and Granger to the sitting room .The only sounds that echoed around the room was their footsteps and the opening of creaking doors.

Draco found himself in his cousin Regulus's bedroom. It was decorated with Slytherin banners and colors. It was neatly arranged as if it the one who lived here was still around but Draco could clearly see the dust that had formed on the bed and the cobwebs around the corners of the room. It was dark and the air was heavy with the horrible deeds done by the Black family and he felt the burden of that name weigh a ton on his shoulder. He was born from two families that were the worst: Malfoy and Black; loyal followers of the Dark Lord.

He shut his eyes, shaking his head and Granger's words echoed around his ears,

"Maybe it's because I know that you're not evil."

He felt a growl leave his throat. Granger knew nothing about him.

Then something startled him: shouts from outside. He hurried downstairs, his head forming the possibilities of an effective spell. He could tell that something was wrong when he stopped in front of the door.

He was frantically looking for Granger. If she died, he was going to be alone.

"Malfoy!" yelled Granger from the door to the sitting room. He turned towards her and at that exact moment, the front door exploded. A huge bang deafened his ears as he scrambled over to where Granger stood, trying to dodge the debris that was raining down on them both. He heard her scream when a stinging pain overwhelmed Draco's arm and he crouched down, grunting in pain.

Smoke was billowing from the wreckage and Draco could clearly see the silhouette of three or more people entering inside. He could feel a sticky sensation running down the side of his face. Splintered wood was flying everywhere as Draco quickly shouted and pointed with his good arm,

"Stupefy!"

"What the—" somebody dropped to the ground with a loud thud.

Granger was looking terrified but determined as she shot an Impediment Jinx at another intruder when Draco grabbed her hand, by impulse. He could feel the heat radiating from her as he focused on where to go next, trying to calm his agitated breaths and the beating of his heart and the pain that he was experiencing on both his ear and arm.

The feeling of Apparation made it worse and he was slowly beginning to black out but the tight squeeze of Granger's hand pushed him through the pain. When it finally ended, he landed on snow.

"Malfoy!" he heard Granger call. Too late.

His vision was already fading. He knew that he was losing too much blood and he was beginning to wilt like a flower. The pain was unbearable and the last thing he saw was one of Granger's tear soaked brown caramel eyes over him before everything turned black.

.

He thought he was already in Heaven.

The place he was in was a field full of flowerbeds. The smell of it soothed him and he no longer cared if he was ruining something so pure. He felt at peace here. The sky was a brilliant blue with clouds drifting lazily and for once, he felt as if the sun was smiling down at him. He smiled as well. The air was warm yet cool, the lukewarm kind and it embraced him like some kind of lost family member.

"Paradise," he mumbled to himself. He didn't think that there was a paradise for Death Eaters.

He stretched out his arms and fell back on the flowers, bathing in their calming scent and sighing with content. This was what he always imagined heaven to be. No war. No calamities. No stuff that ruined the Earth. Just peace. Peace and quiet.

Apparently, that wasn't it either.

He could hear someone shouting his name. At first, it was his last name then his real name. He sat up, looking for the source. The voice sounded familiar but it was so distant that it sounded like it was from a faraway tube. He looked around but nobody was there but him.

Then the paradise began to fade. Draco stood up quickly and he realized that he began to fade too. The odd thing was, he didn't protest or cry for the loss of this amazing place because somehow, deep inside him, he knew that he shouldn't be here, not yet anyway.

Paradise would have to wait. A war was going on and he was a part of it.

He opened his eyes and saw Granger staring at him, looking tired but relieved. He sat up; looking around as if looking for the paradise he had dreamed of but felt deeply disappointed when he realized that he was in another forest.

"What happened?" he asked Granger.

"Death Eaters," she said regretfully, "I forgot that I led Yaxley there. They must've been patrolling there every day to check if Harry would come back. They didn't see our faces hopefully."

"So, you led us into a trap," he sneered.

She hung her head and for a moment, Draco's anger simmered.

"I'm sorry, you saved my life how many times already and I just keep on hurting you," she sobbed, crying into her hands. Draco didn't need to look at her. She was so fragile, too fragile. He imagined that it was because of the stress of war, losing her family and friends and finally believing that a Mudblood like her was a waste of oxygen.

He thought so differently but didn't say anything to comfort her. She was a Mudblood, nothing more and he just had to remind himself that. He stood up and the pain in his arm overwhelmed him again. He grunted and stared at it.

There were what looked like scars that were slowly starting to heal but he could see the faintest traces of them being etched on his grayish skin. It was bright red, like a rash but no amount of magic couldn't fix them. A few minutes later and they were already gone.

"Thank you," the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He looked around at the forest they were in. There were a lot of oak and beech trees and he thought that it was so familiar that he could feel a memory forming in his head. He felt his throat tighten.

"No, why did I bring us here?" he asked to himself.

He was in Savernake Forest in Wiltshire, England, near his home, Malfoy Manor.