IV. An Unexpected Visitor

Ron spent the better part of the week pouting around the house, and whenever Hermione entered a room that he was in, he made a big, dramatic show of crossing his arms and staring at the floor. If he didn't noisily leave the room, that is. Hermione was doing her best to ignore this display, but Ron was a force to be reckoned with.

It didn't help that Mrs. Weasley had completely sided with Ron, and it almost impossible to miss her passive-aggressive jabs at Hermione. If she was making supper that night, she would leave out a place setting at Hermione's usual chair, her message clear: Hermione was not welcome to eat her food. In a motherly fashion, Molly would tidy up everyone's bedrooms and gather laundry while everyone was out. Hermione's was untouched. Hermione could very easily cook and clean for herself, but the blatant neglect still stung.

Ginny disapproved, but still understood Hermione's reasons. Remus was spending most of his time at home and frankly had more pressing matters than Hermione and Ron's relationship drama. Poor Harry was just indifferent to their struggles, and got an uncomfortable look on his face and excused himself from the room whenever any conflict started to arise.

Ron had attempted to talk Hermione into letting him stay the night in her room, but she was mostly offended by his request for casual sex. Between Ron's harping and Mrs. Weasley's nasty disposition, Hermione's spirits were even worse than before.

The group was sitting in the dining room enjoying a turkey dinner that Mrs. Weasley had cooked for George's birthday. Ginny had talked some sense into Molly, so Hermione was actually presented with a plate and an open spot on the table. The rest of them wouldn't have allowed Hermione to be excluded from the celebration anyway. Molly had gone to extreme lengths to decorate Grimmauld place properly for the event. Ginny, George, and Hermione had helped, as well. They were all overcompensating slightly due to the depressing atmosphere around the house ever since Arthur and Tonks' death.

Ron suddenly stood up and raised his wine glass. "I propose a toast to Hermione," he said, surprising everyone in the room.

"For what?" Hermione blurted out without thinking. This was George's day, not hers.

"For all of her fantastic research and planning for all of our raids. You've been a good friend. I'd like to ask you something very impor—,"

Before Hermione had a chance to run from the room in terror at another impending marriage proposal, there was a rapid pounding on the door.

"I'll get it!" Hermione yelled, racing for the front room.

"Wait, Hermione," Ron called after her, close on her heels. "We don't know who it is."

The banging got louder and faster by the time Hermione had reached the door. She pulled it open to reveal none other than Draco Malfoy.

"M-Malfoy?" she asked in disbelief.

He raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations, Granger, you remember my name. Now open the bloody door!"

Barreling into the front hall, he slammed the door shut and barred it. Hermione was still standing there, paralyzed. His blonde hair had grown out a little more, and was no longer slicked back. He had gotten taller and his shoulders had broadened. She almost went as far to think he looked good. Well, besides the tattered robes and cuts on his face.

Ron's wand was out and aimed at Malfoy's chest in an instant. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't hex you right this minute," he growled.

Up went the eyebrow again. "You're a tough guy now, huh?" Ron shoved his wand further into his chest. "There's two Death Eaters out there right now laying low, waiting to kill me."

Ron contemplated this. "Alright, then. Out you go."

"Ron!" Hermione intervened, but no one paid her any attention.

"They haven't seen me come in here. If you send me out, they're sure to see me, thus giving away your little headquarters of 'secret' operations," Malfoy countered smoothly.

By now, the dinner party had moved out to the front hall to see what all the commotion was. Molly let out a fantastic shriek when she noticed Malfoy, and everyone had their wands out faster than you could say Expelliarmus.

Malfoy put his hands up in an "I surrender" kind of way with a bored expression on his face.

"How do I know you're not lying? What if it's a trap and they're coming in this instant?"

"How did you find us? Are there others?"

"Let's just kill him."

"Hand him over to the Ministry."

"Wait!" Hermione interrupted once more. "We can't just kill him. We should listen to what he has to say."

Ron had a look of astonishment on his face. "But Hermione, he's a Malfoy. It's Draco bloody Malfoy!"

"Hermione's right," Remus cut in. "I have an amount of Veritaserum. We'll know for sure what his plans are. Unless you have any objections…" he directed his attention to Malfoy.

"No reason to lie," Malfoy shrugged.

"If he knows what's good for him he'll take it!" Ron growled, refusing to lower his wand.

"Where on Earth did you get ahold of Veritaserum, Remus?" Hermione asked him with astonishment. It was illegal for him to have any in his possession—not that anybody here seemed to have any protest.

Remus just smirked but didn't answer her question.

Malfoy was settled in a chair in the dining room, all attention on him.

"You people sure know how to initiate an interrogation," Draco said dryly before the potion drops were poured into his mouth.

"What's your name?" Remus asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Draco Malfoy."

"How many Death Eaters are outside?" Ron jumped in.

"Two."

"Do they know you're in here?" Remus asked.

"No."

"Does anyone else know you're here?"

"No."

"Why are the Death Eaters after you?"

"They consider me a traitor. I haven't been with my family for the past year. I've been in hiding. Ever since the Dark Lord fell and Bellatrix tried to sloppily take his place, there's no order. There's no chaos and no real goal. I declared the whole operation stupid, and my family's been searching for me ever since."

"Are you here to do any harm to us?"

"No."

"Why are you here?"

"I need somewhere to stay. And before you ask how I know where this place is, let's just say I have my resources. Snape informed me of this hideout before he died. I've never told anyone else. You can cast me out if you want, but being that I'm the closest thing you've got to a inside connection, it would be somewhat advantageous for you to keep me around."

Everyone exchanged nervous glances.

"If it wasn't for the Veritaserum I'd say he was lying…" Ron said skeptically.

"He is right. He's the only chance we have at getting inside information," Molly said, looking rather upset.

"Alright, then," Ginny said snootily. "We'll make him tell us everything he knows, and then throw his arse out!"

"Ginevra! Language!" Molly said indignantly.

"Ginny's right," Harry agreed. "We don't need the likes of him in here."

"But that's immoral," Hermione argued. Malfoy looked up at her, trying to hide his surprise. "He hasn't been with his family in over a year, and he doesn't support what they're doing. Obviously they've disowned him. We can't just use him and then throw him out in the cold."

"Hermione, you're not actually thinking of letting him stay here? After all of those terrible things he's said to you! He—he's worked with You-Know-Who," Ron desperately tried to reason with her.

"Technically," Malfoy cut in. "He gave me one assignment, and I didn't follow through."

"No one's talking to you, ferret!" Ron said nastily.

"You're being completely unreasonable, Ronald," Hermione said calmly, waving her wand to instantly cure Draco of his more shallow wounds. Remus was the one to agree with Hermione fully. He took him upstairs and showed him to his room, gave him a fresh set of robes, and lectured him about the consequences of any "funny business."

"We'll talk more about this tomorrow," Molly said, swiftly clearing the table.

"I agree. I'm beat," Harry said, helping her with the cleanup.

"You'd better believe he'll have some good information to tell us," George said. "I'm not going to live in fear for nothing."

"I hope I can sleep with him on one floor below me…" Ginny said out loud, to no one in particular.

"Well, I've got to sleep with him on the same floor as me, and if I can do it, then you can, too," Hermione said. She didn't bother to point out that they could all just go home to sleep whenever they felt like it. This was the only place Hermione had.

Ron grumbled something about his Christmas being ruined before trudging up the stairs gloomily.

"D'you think he'll really help us find the Malfoys and the rest of the Death Eaters? Ginny asked.

"Difficult to say…Malfoys are known for being fiercely loyal, but the Veritaserum never fails."

At least, she thought so.

To say that the whole house was on edge due to Malfoy's apparent unwelcome presence was an understatement. Remus was keeping Teddy far from the house, claiming that he didn't want Malfoy "rubbing off on him." No one dared remind him that Draco was technically Teddy's second cousin. The Weasleys were hanging around more often to "keep an eye" on things, the healthy dose of Veritaserum clearly not enough to calm their frazzled nerves. And of course nothing could have prepared Hermione for seeing Malfoy at the breakfast table every morning. She suddenly found herself checking every room before she entered in a faulty attempt to avoid any confrontation with Malfoy.

"Avoiding me are we, Granger?" Malfoy asked, propping his feet on a nearby chair one morning at breakfast. It would have only proved him right if she turned and left, so she matched his challenging stare and sat down across from him at the circular table.

"You give yourself too much credit," she responded, helping herself to some toast.

"I rather imagine you're just following directions," Malfoy sneered. "No doubt the Weasel doesn't want his precious bookworm near the likes of someone so dangerous."

"You are very much mistaken. Ron doesn't tell me whom I can and cannot associate with," Hermione said, scornful at the very idea.

"Then you're just scared."

"What on Earth would I have to be scared about?" she retorted with a laugh. "They've taken your wand."

He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment Harry entered the kitchen with a sleepy expression and mussed up hair. Pouring himself a cuppa, he turned to Malfoy. "You're going to point out every known hideout of your father's on the map today. You've had enough time to rest and recover."

"Thanks for the heartfelt concern," Malfoy taunted.

"Are you incapable of saying a single remark that's not dripping with sarcasm and cheek?" Hermione asked, frustrated.

"Apparently as capable as you are at putting some decent product in your hair."

She grunted in frustration. Of all the thick, unreasonable warts!

"Hermione, don't let him get to you," Harry said. "Remember who we're dealing with here. You can't expect him to have changed much from school." Apparently talking about him in a negative way like he wasn't there did the trick, because he got up and left the room, leaving the two in peace.

Hermione could tell that George was among the most excited to have potential information about the Malfoys. He frequently launched into stories about how they would storm an underground cave or abandoned mansion and catch them all unawares. Ron shared his enthusiasm, but his all his stories ended with, "And then we can chuck Malfoy out."

Malfoy kept up his end of the bargain and told them everything he knew about their traveling schedule, but disappointed them by saying that their best chance of attack was months from now when the Death Eaters relocated to the Willowgrove house. Harry wasn't having any of it and demanded that they strike immediately. To this, Malfoy only shrugged and said, "Your loss."

After everyone had left the room, Hermione approached Ron and mentally gathered her wits. "Ron. Since we now have the upperhand, I—I'm going to go with you on raids."

"Over my dead body," Ron said simply.

"That's it? 'Over my dead body'? You know I'm capable in a fight—"

"You just don't get it do you, Hermione?" he said, turning to face her. "Their only hobby is killing Muggle-borns. Frankly, having you there would only make a fight worse 'cause we'd all have to focus our attention on protecting you."

Before she could argue that she wouldn't get in the way and knew how to properly defend herself for Merlin's sake, Ron tucked the maps under his arm and left. She turned to follow him but, much to her chagrin, saw Malfoy leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, no doubt having listened to the whole thing. Wanting nothing more than to slap that smug look off his face, she tried to storm past him to fume in peace.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked.

"It's none of your business, Malfoy," she growled.

"It seems to me that your boyfriend's being a little demeaning," he said as she unsuccessfully tried to elbow her way past him.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione said automatically, not thinking about what she was saying.

Up went that infuriating eyebrow. "Really? And how long has this been going on?" Sensing her hesitation, he continued. "Come on, you can tell me."

Hermione really didn't like his sarcastic tone one bit. "Just because I stood up for you that night doesn't mean I consider you my personal confidant. I was just doing the right thing! Don't for one second think it was because I actually wanted you hanging around Grimmauld."

"I'm hurt, Granger," he said, placing a hand over his heart. Honestly, all the boys in this place were complete idiots.

She finally pushed past him and went to find Ginny to complain.

That night at dinner, everyone was seated at the dining table, and Hermione tried her best to shove the unpleasant thoughts pertaining to what had happened earlier out of her mind. Mrs. Weasley had cooked roast beef, so everyone had obviously flocked to dinner the second she announced that it was ready.

"George, I've just seen so little of you lately," Molly said, addressing the redhead who was shoveling a roll into his mouth in a quite unappetizing manner.

"I'd probably hang around more if ickle Ronnie-kins wasn't always pouting and acting like it was his time of the month," he answered indignantly.

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"I hear there's a pill for that," Malfoy said, cutting a small piece of beef.

Ginny snorted into her cup and placed her napkin over her mouth, unable to contain her laughter. The tips of Ron's ears went very pink.

"I'm sure he's just stressed about the attacks," Hermione said. She was able to barely control the half-smile threatening to creep its way onto her face.

Malfoy eyed Hermione, but said nothing. She hadn't been able to hide the smile from him.

"Well, we're all a tad on edge," Molly said, looking pointedly at Draco, who began whistling while cutting the rest of his meat. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but shut it again.

"Oh, don't stop the conversation on my account," Malfoy said with a malicious smile.

"I don't see how you can sit there and stuff your face when it's your father going around killing innocent people," Ron shot at him, ignoring everyone's agreement that they would all be civil.

"Easy," he answered coolly. "I just chew and swallow." He demonstrated this while challenging Ron's stare.

"Oh, just cool it!" Ginny said, irritated at her brother's behavior. "Mum, have you been to Remus' lately? We must bring the poor man some food, he doesn't look like he's eaten in days."

"You're absolutely right. He shouldn't be alone after he's lost Nymphadora. It isn't healthy for him," Molly said, a trace of understanding and sadness in her voice at having lost Arthur.

The rest of dinner was fairly quiet. When Hermione was in the study reading later that evening, Ron joined her with two glasses of wine.

"What's the occasion?" she asked him.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you."

"It wasn't Ginny's idea?"

Ron winced. "I guess I deserved that. I haven't been the easiest to deal with lately."

"No," Hermione agreed quietly. "You haven't."

He didn't have a response for that, so instead he sipped his wine. She took a drink of her own wine and fidgeted with the pages in her book.

"It's just Tonks and Dad…and now having to deal with ferret-face all the time. I don't like him being here when we go out on raids," Ron said angrily.

She rolled her eyes. "Can you stop with the childish names?"

He reached over and squeezed her hand with a chuckle. "I just worry about you."

"I know." There wasn't much else to say. Things had gotten awkward between them. Ron probably didn't notice. Hermione often wished that things were back the way they used to be, with Ron and Harry playing Quidditch, the twins causing mischief, and the all-around innocence that surrounded them all in the early years at school. Ron had been so much easier to talk to. She didn't much like this overprotective, moody side that had emerged ever since the war.