Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters, situations or locations you recognise are the property of these individuals and corporations. No money is made from the writing of this story.

Thanks to LadyStiff for cheerleading and to TycheSong for her fabulous beta work.

THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, alerted and read this story. I hope you are enjoying it.

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Chapter 4

Christmas had been a quiet, family affair. Hermione's grandfather, Charles' father, had arrived early in the day, in time for presents. Hermione had knelt on the floor next to the tree and handed out gifts to everyone. Draco had been pleasantly surprised to receive gifts from Hermione, Charles and Victoria, even Grampy, as he had been instructed to call the elder Granger, had given him a tin of biscuits and a history book about World War II. His son had explained Draco's new interest in learning about the war.

William Granger had fought first in North Africa, and then been part of the D-Day Invasion during the war. He had seen the horrors inflicted by the Nazis first-hand, and felt it part of his continuing duty to ensure that no one ever forgot what had been perpetrated during that time. He had been part of the force that had liberated the Nazi Concentration Camp of Bergen-Belsen. What he had seen there haunted his dreams to this day. This was his motivation, once he was discharged from the Army, to read history at Oxford and go on to become a history professor. He still spoke at schools and societies about his experiences, and would continue to do so until he was physically incapable of it.

Draco had also presented gifts to the Granger family. For the first time in his life he had actually put some thought behind them. He had bought Charles a complete set of cricket history books that had been advertised on the television. Victoria received a teapot to replace one from her set that had been broken many years before. He had heard her complain that she should have kept the pieces for Hermione to repair. One day, the previous week, he had been dragged to a local antique fair by Hermione and seen the teapot there. After confirming with Hermione that it was the correct one, he had purchased it. He gave Hermione a charm bracelet he had seen at the same fair. It had caught his eye because it had a single charm of a book on it. Professor Dumbledore had stopped in two days prior to drop off presents for Draco from his mother, along with a long letter, and he had been more than happy to briefly pop out to Diagon Alley and purchase two more charms on Draco's behalf – a small cauldron and a dragon figurine. He figured Hermione could buy more charms as she found them.

The letter from his mother informed Draco that she was safe and well in her undisclosed location. She too had had several hard truths brought home to her, and was grateful her only son had had the courage to go to Dumbledore and beg for mercy. She resolved to support him in any way she could and promised that his father would also support his decision. Lucius Malfoy had had no desire to return to Lord Voldemort's service upon his revival, but had been presented with little choice. If he wanted his family to survive, then he must. Once he realised they were safe, she knew Lucius would wait out the war and provide information where necessary.

Grampy stayed at the Grangers' up until New Year's Day. He had taken the revelation of Hermione's (and Draco's for that matter) magic in his stride. Now that she was seventeen, she was allowed to disclose the information to her wider family. Grampy had told them with a bit of wonder in his voice about his grandmother, who would regale him with tales of dragons, giants, mermaids and centaurs. She would tell him and his cousins stories about a magic castle where everyone learned spells, enchantments and potions and flew around on broomsticks. Not once did he ever think any of it was real! Hermione was quite excited to learn this—it meant she had magical ancestors!

Particularly moving was the story Grampy told about a cousin of his who had disappeared at age eleven. There had always been whispers about the young boy; that strange things happened around him. The adults all dismissed questions about him, simply saying he had gone away, and would not be returning. As Grampy had grown up, he realised—or so he thought—that 'gone away' was a euphemism for his cousin dying. Now though, "Do either of you know a man named Peter Vector?"

Hermione rushed to inform him that she did not know of this man, but one of her favourite professors was Septima Vector. Perhaps they were related? Hermione was very excited to go back to school and find out. Draco was pleased for his new—friend?—that she may have living relatives, albeit distant ones, in the magical world.

The six days between Christmas and New Year were filled with outings, visitors, family dinners and another cricket test, this one being broadcast from Australia! Draco, Charles and William were encamped in the sitting room late into the nights hoping that the dominance of the Australian team in world cricket could be broken for once. They were jubilant when the West Indies triumphed. Draco also sat with Grampy, discussing World War II and the parallels between it and the upcoming war with Voldemort. Draco diligently read his book and was often quite pensive.

After Grampy's departure, three days before they were scheduled to return to Hogwarts, Draco was in a particularly preoccupied mood. After the totally unexpected pleasant time she had had with him these holidays, Hermione hated to see her friend (yes, friend) so down. She got on the phone with her friend Sarah and organised another ice skating trip. There was a frozen pond about a mile from the house where the locals ice skated during the winter. Hermione persuaded Draco to come along, promising that there would be other boys this time.

When they had gone last week, there had only been Draco with four girls. Not that he didn't enjoy the jealous looks he was getting from several other teenage boys at the pond when it was determined he was there with four very pretty girls, but the conversation had left quite a bit to be desired. Draco would never have thought Hermione would be one to gush about boy bands, and cute actors while discussing the latest fashions and fads.

Hermione had dismissed his observations on the way home.

"You don't think I'm serious enough at school for nine months of the year? I hang around with boys! It's nice to be able to let my hair down and be a girl when I'm at home," Hermione said.

"If you were more of a girl while you were at school, maybe Weasel-King would be snogging your face off instead of that tart he's with now," Draco observed.

"Don't call him that," Hermione automatically admonished. "And who's to say I want Ron to be snogging my face off? Maybe I want someone else entirely," she said.

Draco knew she was lying. He stopped in the middle of the footpath and waited for Hermione to turn toward him. When she did, he grabbed her face and planted a hard kiss right on her mouth. She was shell-shocked.

"So, not me then," Draco quipped. He began to walk away, leaving Hermione spluttering in his wake. She hurried to catch up to him.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded shrilly.

"That was me seeing if you were happy to have someone else snog your face off," Draco replied.

"That was not snogging! And even if it was, who says that 'someone' has to be you?" she asked.

"Okay, I admit that snogging is a bit different to that, but why couldn't I be 'someone'? You and Weasley are not suited to one another; I don't know why you like him so much. In all the years you've been friends, I have only once seen him defend you. I might have spent the last five years calling you... that... but I know he's insulted you a lot as well. Maybe he hasn't used the m-word, but I've seen how his words hurt you all the same. If you just sit there and take it, what makes you think he won't continue to act that way, knowing you'll forgive him? In twenty years, you'd be a miserable housewife with a passel of red-headed kids at your feet, all gorging as though they were on their last meal and arguing over quidditch scores!" Draco was panting slightly when he got to the end of his rant. He noticed Hermione staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Hermione was speechless for a few moments. She began to walk a few steps, Draco trailing behind her before she found her voice again. "I... I know he insults me. I know he says stuff without thinking. But he is still only sixteen, not many sixteen year-olds have a filtering system. I know that one day, he will grow up and out of this and then he will be what I need; he will become the man I want him to be."

"Are you listening to yourself, Hermione?" Draco asked incredulously. "Why are you wasting your time waiting for him to become someone he clearly isn't? Why would you want him to be someone he isn't? You are just setting both of you up for lives of misery! He will never be able to meet your high standards, and he will be miserable because of it! I mean, I don't like the guy at all, but you can't do that to him, or yourself."

"But... I... He..." Hermione spluttered. She stopped and sat down on the kerb. Was Draco right? Was she hoping in vain for a dream that starred an ideal version of her friend, rather than a realistic one? Yes, Ron did insult her all the time and knock down her ideas, and try to turn Harry against her. As she catalogued incidents in her head, she realised more and more, that while Ron was a good friend (and he was, despite his behaviour sometimes), as a potential life partner, he did leave a lot to be desired. A feeling of emptiness welled up inside Hermione and tears started to roll down her cheeks as Draco took a seat beside her. She took the handkerchief he held out to her.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, Hermione," he said softly. "I just don't understand why you're making life plans when you're only seventeen. There are a lot of people to meet out there."

"But who knows what's going to happen with the war," Hermione sniffed.

"That's all the more reason for you to live your life in the moment. If the worst happens sooner, rather than later, do you really want to be looking back on your life and realising you spent most of your teenage years pining over Weasley?" Draco asked.

Hermione let out a wet chuckle at his question. When it was put like that... "What do you suggest?" she asked.

"Live," Draco said simply. "Snog a guy you like, or a girl, who cares? Read all the books you want, help Potter save the world... make new friends. Do what you want to do, not what people are expecting you to do. I gave up the expectations, and look at me... I am freer now than I have ever been my whole life!"

Hermione turned her head and locked eyes with Draco. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "You've given me a lot to think about." She leant across and gave him a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. Draco barely puckered in response, knowing that this was a gesture from a friend, nothing more. He smiled and stood up, offering a hand to help her stand.

"Come on," he said. "Grampy is going to tell me another war story." Hermione rolled her eyes good naturedly. Between cricket and World War II, Draco was the perfect foster son for the Granger men to host.

After the telling of that war story, Draco had become pensive and withdrawn. He still participated in family activities, but he was very quiet, only offering one-word answers and rarely smiling. Victoria finally decided enough was enough and encouraged Hermione to take Draco out for the evening, just two young friends spending some time together. That was when Hermione got on the phone to Sarah and practically dragged Draco out of the house.

They met up with Sarah, Kim and Marigold at the pond. This time they were accompanied by Kim's cousins, Stephen and Daniel. They were twins, the same age as Draco. Hermione was relieved to see Draco come out of his shell a little bit with the boys, the three bonding over a mutual love of cricket. They re-hashed the test from the previous weeks between England and Zimbabwe, Draco able to regurgitate the comments made by Charles in order to fit in. The twins were also impressed that Draco had watched the Australian test as well—they thought that showed true dedication to the sport.

The seven teenagers had a fun evening, skating for a couple of hours before adjourning to a nearby Indian restaurant for a banquet special. It was on the walk home that Draco began to sink into his pensive mood once more.

"At least you're not sullen," Hermione commented with exasperation.

"Hmm?" Draco asked absently.

"You've been in a bad mood since Grampy left! I miss him too, but there's no need to be this upset about it, I'm sure we can arrange for you to see him again," Hermione said.

"I'm just thinking about things," Draco replied in the same absent tone.

"What things? Can I help at all?" Hermione asked.

"It's too dangerous," Draco replied.

Hermione scoffed. "Talk to me about danger after you've faced a troll, a three-headed dog, a basilisk, a werewolf, a group of Death Eaters and survived them all," she retorted.

Draco looked at her speculatively. She was right, for all her slightness and femininity, she had faced dangerous situations that fully grown and fully trained witches and wizards would balk at. Dumbledore had preached to him about trusting people—but still treading the fine line of believing who he could trust. He knew Hermione had taken a personal risk inviting him into her home with barely a fight, and had dedicated herself fully to becoming his friend, just as Dumbledore hoped she would. If he could not trust Hermione, then who could he trust?

"Two things are bothering me. The first is pretty minor, if the information is acted on. I told the Headmaster at the time, but both he and I didn't think it was important." Draco took a breath, "If the Death Eaters manage to take the Ministry, they will be setting up camps for the Muggleborns," he said.

"Camps?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I think like the ones in the books, the ones like Bergen-Belsen that Grampy helped liberate," Draco said softly.

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. "Concentration camps, like the Nazis?" she asked fearfully.

Draco nodded. "And I reckon they would be just as bad," he predicted.

"You definitely have to tell Professor Dumbledore about this," Hermione said.

"I will. The other problem is something I have to do, or something I have to pretend to do," Draco said sadly.

"What?" Hermione asked after Draco had been silent for several minutes.

"I have to kill the Headmaster," Draco confessed.

"WHAT? No, you can't... what do you... After everything he's done for you, you are going to kill him?" Hermione shrieked. She looked at Draco as though he had betrayed her. The look was something he never wanted to see on her face again. He hastened to explain.

"No, no, it's a plan that he came up with. You've seen his hand; he says he's dying anyway. He wants me to pretend to kill him, or if he's already at death's door, kill him on his terms, so the Death Eaters will think I'm still on their side, but Mother and Father will still be safe. If Dumbledore is still going strong, he's going to fake his death so he can control things from a remote location. If not, then he wants his death to be for the Greater Good, and not dying quietly in his sleep one night."

"Draco, are you already a Death Eater?" Hermione asked.

Draco looked sadly into her eyes. "Yes," he admitted. He began to roll up his sleeve, but Hermione stopped him. "I don't believe in any of it anymore," he said, his eyes imploring her to believe him. "I just want the Dark Lord to be finished, and I have committed myself to doing whatever it takes to stop him. Hell, I'll scream from the rooftops that Potter is my one-and-only if I think it will help." Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Hermione giggled at the mental image—and that of Harry's expression if he found out!

"I believe you," Hermione said sincerely. "And I will help you, if you ask me too," she promised.

She looked deeply into Draco's eyes, and sealed her promise by leaning forward and gently pressing her lips against his own. The kiss they shared was not passionate, or chaste, but a promise between two friends that they would be there for each other, for whatever reason was needed.

Draco sighed and rested his forehead against Hermione's when they separated. "You know we can't openly be friends back at school," he cautioned. "It would be too dangerous, for both of us."

Hermione nodded regretfully. "I know," she said. She fished into her bag and pulled out two galleon coins. She charmed them with a Protean Charm, and handed one to Draco. "If you need me for anything, you can contact me using this coin," she said. She quickly instructed him in how to use it, and charmed a small D/H onto her coin so she would not confuse it with her DA coin.

Draco slipped it into his pocket with a smile. "Thanks, I'm sure this will come in handy, Roc" he said. Hermione gave him a blinding smile at the use of her nickname.

The pair resumed their walk back home, resolving to spend the final days of their brief respite from the Wizarding world immersed in Muggle culture. A three-day James Bond marathon sounded good.

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Platform 9¾ was buzzing on January 4th with returning students. Victoria and Charles had stopped with Hermione and Draco at the door to King's Cross Station, saying quick goodbyes to Draco and sending him toward Professor Snape whom they could see in the distance waiting. The three Grangers strolled to platform 10, as though they had no cares in the world, saying a long goodbye in front of the barrier. Hermione gave one last wave to her parents before running through the brick wall. She quickly stowed her trunk and hoisted Crookshanks' carrier in her hand. She began to walk toward the large group of redheads and one brunette she could see standing near the middle of the carriages.

Harry broke from the group as soon as he spotted Hermione walking toward them, grabbing her in a jubilant hug and swinging her around. She laughed at his behaviour, praising him when he reminded her he had faithfully written every four days as requested.

"Although two lines stating, 'Dear Hermione, How are you? I'm fine. Weather's crap, playing Quidditch today, Weasleys say Hi. Love, Harry' wasn't quite what I meant," Hermione said.

"Eh, there wasn't anything else to say, really," Harry said. "Did you have a good holiday?" he asked.

"Yes, I did, surprisingly."

"Oh?" Harry's friendly, open face suddenly turned dark. Hermione swung around to see what had caused his expression to change. She saw Draco climbing onboard the Express, staring in their direction, sneer firmly in place once more. Her own face started to fall before she caught it, knowing he was playing his role now, and it was up to her to play hers.

"Still on this, Harry?" she asked with exasperation, just as she had at the beginning of the holiday.

"He's up to something," Harry persisted. "I just know it."

"Sure, Harry, he is evil personified and he is going to blow up the entire school," Hermione said sarcastically.

"I'm glad you agree," Harry said, deliberately misreading her tone. Hermione turned from him with a small shake of her head and went to greet the Weasleys. She could tell this was going to be a long train ride, and an even longer few months until the end of the school year...

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Just the epilogue to go... How did Draco's defection change things? Stay tuned to find out tomorrow...

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