Thank you all so much for the follows & faves! I'm playing catch up with this fic, getting all the chapters I have written uploaded and then from there it will be weekly updates (usually on Thursdays) until the end. Right now it's looking like 12 chapters in total, but we'll see!

A million thanks to the best beta a gal could ask for, CourtingInsanity. xoxo

xx

April 27, 2008, Ravenwood Hall, Peak District.

Hermione's boots crunched over the pea-gravel as she walked from the Apparition Point and across the round drive of Ravenwood Hall. The house loomed over the manicured topiaries and hedges, it's ornate diapered brickwork creating a lattice effect. The morning sun glinted off the thick old glass of the numerous windows. It was a lovely house, she had always thought so. She used to love to come here, to sit with Lars in front of the fire and talk about history and geography and mysteries. But that was a long time ago.

Her Floo call that morning had gone unanswered, as expected. The Aurors told her they had tried to make contact with Lars, had even come here themselves, but to no avail.

She moved along the front walk, hurrying up the stone stairs towards the imposing front doors. As she stepped across the wide flagstone porch, she felt the ripple of the house's outer wards pass over her - as she had expected, they still recognized her. Lars had always been too absentminded to change the wards once he had a falling out.

The doors dwarfed her, the intricate carvings of vines and flowers reaching double her height. The wood was dark with age and the touch of thousands of hands. She went through the motions of heaving the large iron knocker against the wood and stepped back to wait. The echo of the knocker rumbled for a moment and then there was nothing but silence. When no one was forthcoming she drew her wand: Alohamora.

The ancient lock gave under her spell, and she pushed the doors inwards. As she pressed her weight forward against the wood, she thought it had been surprisingly easy - she glared at the doorknob and lock. Silly, absentminded Lars. How easy had it been for whoever got to him first? Taking a breath, she stepped slowly over the threshold. The surge of magic as the main house wards hit her almost knocked her backwards. She felt the wards probing, testing and searching but she pushed through. Suddenly they gave, passing away in a slight breeze, and allowed her to enter.

The foyer was deserted, as expected. There was no movement beyond any of the doorways in the carved oak paneling. The portraits on the walls either slept within their gilded frames or watched Hermione warily. Her footfalls echoed on the checkerboard marble tiles as she made her way past the grand staircase and down a darkened corridor. No house elves came to greet her and there was a coating of dust over every surface. She felt the worry lodge itself into her stomach; Lars had either been kidnapped or killed for whatever information he had, she was sure of it. She gripped the handle of the door to his study and took a deep breath.

It was a room of dark paneled walls and built-in bookshelves, with a slate tile floor covered in an array of thick, colorful carpets. Tufted red leather sofas and armchairs sat haphazardly about the room, worn and creased with age and use. A black lacquer desk, decorated with scrolls of gilding, sat beside the gleaming marble fireplace. Books of every age and description sat on the shelves, accented by small decorative items. Hermione moved along the cases, running a finger over the book spines. Circling the room, it appeared as if nothing had been disturbed. The Auror team and whoever else had come before either hadn't breached the wards or hadn't touched anything once inside. She crossed to the desk and flipped through some of the papers scattered on the surface. Crouching, she opened drawers and felt for hidden bottoms. She was trying to look at the underside of a drawer when a noise from across the desk made her freeze.

There was a crackling sound coming from the fireplace. Hermione peered around the desk and caught green sparks of light in the depths of the black marble hearth. She stood, drawing her wand. The sparks were coalescing, swirling in a stream of green light until there was a sudden popping sound and a cloud of ash burst into the room. Hermione coughed, waving her free hand in front of her face to dispel the ashes, but kept her wand trained on the fireplace. A figure was emerging from the black cloud, coughing and dusting off his trousers. Hermione caught a flash of blonde and groaned.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

The figure stilled. "Granger?"

Hermione growled, her anger spiking. She clamped down on the fury, feeling a spreading sense of deadly calm flooding her extremities. "Put your bloody hands where I can see them, Malfoy!"

Draco Malfoy stepped away from the floating ashes, his blonde hair and pale skin smeared with soot. His white buttoned shirt, probably immaculately tailored and pressed when he had left the manor that morning, was now dingy with grime. He was glaring at Hermione with thinly veiled antagonism, his grey eyes bright in the dim light. Hermione saw his wand hand twitch and she hissed, stabbing her wand in his direction.

"One move and I'll Stupefy you, ferret. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I would assume I am here for the same reason you are, Granger." His voice was calm and conversational, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. He appeared relaxed and totally unperturbed by his less-than-manicured appearance, though Hermione could see the tension in the taut cords of his neck muscles and a twitch to his jaw. He absentmindedly dusted the soot from his left shirtsleeve and the cuff rode up his forearm, revealing the very tip of a faded tattoo.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she was suddenly struck by a thought. "You absolute, utter bastard. I knew you were always on sale to the highest bidder, but even I thought you wouldn't stoop so low as to take Death Eater money!" Her voice dripped with venom, her eyes alight with fury. Her anger hit her full force and she was vaguely surprised to find herself trembling as it sang along her veins.

Malfoy's eyes went wide and he stiffened. She watched as the color bloomed in his cheeks, his eyes cold. "Granger, I don't know what you're on about but…"

Hermione didn't give him a change to finish; she snapped her wand towards him with a non-verbal hex and Malfoy dove away, his reaction impeccably timed. His hand reached for his wand and he cast a hurried Protego as Hermione advanced on him, casting hexes. He was on his feet in a flash, his own wand up and casting Impedimenta. Hermione blocked the spell and circled around, kicking a side table into his path as he moved towards the wall. He tripped slightly and then righted himself, twisting as her Stupefy spell shot past. It hit the shelf behind him, scattering books across the floor.

Malfoy moved towards her, their wands falling into a pattern of hex and block as he pushed her back. Hermione hit the bookshelf behind her and she reached out with her free hand, grasping for something to steady herself as she sent another hex towards Malfoy. Her hand landed on a book, pulling it from the shelf. It stopped, stuck in mid-fall, as if held to the shelf surface. Suddenly she was falling back, the bookshelf she was pressed against giving way. She stumbled, rolling and coming up in a crouch. Her wand was trained on Malfoy, but her eyes were drawn to the room that had been revealed when the bookshelf had slid away.

Malfoy was also openly ogling the room, his wand held slack in his hand. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the floor to ceiling shelves, jammed with object after object. A skylight overhead let the mid-morning sun in and it caught on gold and silver, flashing in the dusty air. Hermione recognized several artifacts right away, her brain mentally cataloguing what she could discern from the piles of objects. They had found Lars Ravenwood's famed collection.

After a moment, Hermione turned her attention back to Malfoy. He stood, his eyes roving hungrily over the shelves and Hermione felt the familiar disgust swell in her belly. Probably tallying up how much everything is worth. As she prepared to hex him again, this time with a full body-bind curse, the sound of the wards tearing almost dropped her to her knees. Across the room, Malfoy clapped his hands to his ears and bent over double. Hermione fell back against the wall, her head slamming into the paneling. It felt like a million knives in her brainstem, setting off fireworks behind her eyelids. The sound of a thousand voices raised in screams echoed against the ancient paneling, pressing her into the wall. As suddenly as it had come, the sensations faded. Hermione felt a trickle of blood run from her left nostril and over her lips. She swiped at it with the back of her hand, her wand-arm back up.

Three men in black robes and masks popped into the room, the swirl of Apparition making their robes twist around them. Hermione threw a glance at Malfoy and grimaced as she saw him dive behind the desk, out of sight of the three Death Eaters. She stood in a fighters stance, wand raised, as the men shook off their Apparition and orientated themselves in the room. They noticed Hermione where she stood, the hidden room illuminated behind her.

The man in front, obviously in charge, smiled and Hermione felt the breath catch in her throat. She knew that face - had seen it snarling from countless Wanted posters in the Ministry hallways. Walden Macnair leered at her, his thin face lined with the years spent on the run. His dark hair hung in greasy strands around his face and his eyes were sunken, ringed with dark circles.

"Good day, Mudblood." His voice was a whine, his lips lifting in a sneer as he regarded her with palpable hatred.

"This house is off limits, Macnair. Under the Ministry protection." Hermione hoped her bluff would dissuade him from moving forward - she wasn't sure why Malfoy was hiding from his customers, but four against one were not good odds.

"We aren't here for a friendly chat. Give us the chains and we might be merciful."

The other two Death Eaters had fanned out, their eyes roving the bookshelves in the study as they moved along the walls. Macnair continued to advance on Hermione and the entrance to the hidden room. She steeled herself, her wand arm held steady. Macnair's own wand came up and the tip glowed with a menacing light. Hermione took a deep breath, preparing her magic.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Her voice was calm and she felt a moment of pride that it didn't shake with the nerves that were rattling in her chest.

Macnair let out a thin, reedy laugh and continued to move towards her. "You know exactly what I mean, Mudblood. Surely the Aurors who sent you here told you that there were other interested parties."

Hermione watched him advance, waiting until his wand was in arms reach before she cast. Her hex threw him away from her, his robes billowing around him as his body hit the bookshelves on the other side of the room. Books exploded from the shelves. The other Death Eaters were on her then, their spells coming from either side. She cast Protego and moved, getting her back against a wall.

As the two men moved towards her, she saw Macnair rise from the ground, his wand trained towards her. Hermione felt a deathly calm spread through her body as she realized she probably wasn't going to survive this fight. Gathering her magic around her, she rapidly moved through a list of spells and hexes, determined to cause as much damage as possible before she fell. Just as she was about to send out her first cast, a shouted Impedimenta cut through the air and Malfoy leapt onto the desk. In the sudden confusion, Hermione almost stopped and gaped as she realized his cast had been at Macnair.

As she sent a non-verbal stunning hex at one of the Death Eaters, she grimaced at the realization that Malfoy was not working for the Death Eaters. She didn't have time to ponder that epiphany as she was too busy fending off curses, but Macnair was growling, cursing the 'Malfoy welp' as he cast a poorly aimed Crucio towards the blonde. That probably wasn't an indication that Malfoy was taking their money.

She slammed a Death Eater with an Expulso curse and renewed her wandless shield charm. It was taking a lot out of her, but she couldn't fight the two dark wizards without some protection. They were desperate, and fighting like crazed wolves.

The two dark wizards herded her further into the hidden chamber and her new position gave her a better view of the shelves at the back of the room. On the second to top shelf, displayed on two thin wire stands were two lengths of thin chain. They drifted slightly in the magical breezes caused by the wandwork. Hermione felt her heart tighten in her chest as she cast Impedimenta. How was she going to get to them before the Death Eaters saw them? She was considering making a run for the chains when one of the dark wizards cast Fiendfyre and all hell broke loose.

The fire curse roared towards her and she threw herself to the ground, rolling away as she felt the heat race along her body. The spell hit the shelves at the side of the room and suddenly they were aflame. The fire spread along the old wood, devouring the books and trinkets sitting on the shelves. Hermione felt a pang of remorse as the priceless artifacts were consumed by the Fiendfyre and then shook the feeling away. It was the same feeling she had experienced during the Battle of Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement, when Crabbe had tried to kill them with Fiendfyre. As she had run from the flames, she had mourned the piles of magical artifacts and junk as they caught fire. Throwing a quick glance towards Malfoy, where he dueled Macnair, Hermione almost laughed at how life could change. During the War, she had fought amongst Fiendfyre in the same chamber as Malfoy; only back then, they had fought against each other. And now? She watched as he hurled a hex at Macnair, his shield charm flashing in the firelight. Now, they were on the same side. For now. She blinked and shook herself, scanning the room. She had more pressing matters to attend to. The Death Eater who had not cast the Fiendfyre was cursing his companion and Hermione took the momentary distraction to rise to her feet.

Macnair and Malfoy were at the entrance to the hidden chamber, their wands stilled as they took in the Fiendfyre racing along the walls. Macnair looked away first, his glare sweeping the remaining shelves. Hermione went cold as she saw him catch sight of the chains, his eyes widening in recognition. She lunged towards the shelf, but as she moved a beam fell from the flame ravaged ceiling. Hermione threw herself back but Macnair skirted around the obstacle and reached the back wall. The flames had beat him there, licking along the wood, moving perilously close to the chains. The air shimmered and danced with unbearable heat. Hermione watched in horror as Macnair reached for the chains, grabbing one in each hand.

There was a sickening searing sound and suddenly the smell of burnt flesh mingled with the smell of ash and burnt wood. Macnair screamed, his expression changing quickly from joy to agony. Still screaming, he shook his hands in panic, trying to dislodge the two white-hot lengths of chain from his flesh. Hermione moved towards him, her wand swinging out as she cast curse after curse towards him. His shield-charm shimmered, weakening with his pain. Suddenly another ceiling beam collapsed, thudding to the floor in a shower of plaster and ash. Macnair was thrown back, and Hermione saw the chains drop away from his injured hands. Macnair hauled himself to his feet and, with another scream of pain as he gripped his wand with a blistered hand, Apparated away.

Hermione threw herself back as the Fiendfyre roared across the fallen ceiling beam. Scrambling to her feet, she leapt towards Malfoy. He was throwing curses at the two remaining Death Eaters and trying to maintain his shield charm. Sweat poured into his eyes and he swiped at it angrily with a soot-blackened hand. Hermione stumbled towards him, hauling herself up beside him. She pressed her back against his as one of the Death Eaters rounded on her. She could feel the hard plane of Malfoy's back against hers, his solid stance a comfort as she hurled a curse towards the dark wizard.

The heat from the fire was so intense Hermione was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She felt the sweat evaporating from her skin. The two Death Eaters, as if on some unseen signal, were suddenly gone, their Apparition a dull shockwave of sound against the roar of the flames. She felt Malfoy sag slightly against her and then he gripped her forearm as she turned towards the fire.

"Granger, let's go!"

"Not without the chains!"

Hermione kicked a burning chair from her path as another ceiling beam slammed to the floor ahead of her. Malfoy yanked her back against him, his arm snaking across her hips protectively.

"Forget them! I want you out of here now!"

He turned them, as if to drag her from the room, and Hermione caught a glint of metal in an opening in the flames.

"There!"

She kicked back, slamming her foot into his thigh. He grunted in pain, releasing his hold on her as she lunged forward. As she moved, she tore her shirt from her body and wrapped it around her hand. The heat licked against her skin as she dropped low, reaching out and scooping the chains into her cloth covered palm. She felt hands on her calves, hauling her backwards. Malfoy helped her rise and they turned, sprinting from the room and through the study.

In the smoke-darkened hall, Hermione tripped and as she fell, the chains flew from her grip. They landed several feet apart on the carpeted floor. She lunged forward, as did Malfoy, and both of them came back up with a chain. Malfoy was staring at her, his mouth slightly open, his face unguarded. Hermione thought she detected surprise flit across his aristocratic features. She glanced down at the chain in her hand and then her head snapped to the door of the study. A wall of Fiendfyre roared at the door frame, tendrils of flame spreading out into the hallway.

"Shit! Granger - the Manor!" Malfoy's voice was rough, threaded with fear and panic. His wand was out and he was pinning her with his eyes, his other hand raised slightly as if to grab her for a Side-Along. He hesitated, until she shot her hand out and laced her fingers with his. He cast the Apparition and Hermione felt the familiar tug as they swirled away.