Thanks to everyone for the reviews, and wishing me well in my health (if only so I continue with the story), I hope to answer most of the questions in the later chapters. So, here's chapter three. Hope you like it.

Chapter Three

When Elena was still Hermione Granger, there were certain truths that she held to be self evident. The one that she had clung to the longest, even after she had turned into Elena Hisham, was that Draco Malfoy was an evil git who deserved what was coming to him. But sitting on the bathroom floor, being held in his arms when she was at her weakest, she had to admit, he had grown up.

"What are you doing here, Draco?"

"You already asked that," he pointed out.

She pushed away from him and leaned back against the wall. "Your answer was shit and you know it."

"You need to lie down, go to sleep."

Now he was evading the question. "I'm serious. Why did you come here? It's three in the morning."

"I didn't lie when I said I came to check up on you." He stood up and offered her a hand, "Why would I lie to you?"

She looked at the proffered hand, contemplating rejecting it. Finally, she clasped onto his wrist. He hauled her up. "You should go home and get some sleep yourself."

He looked her in the eyes, "Promise me that you'll get some sleep?"

"I will. Now go home." He was still holding onto her arm. "Can I have my arm back?"

He looked down at their arms, "Sorry," he dropped her hand rather awkwardly. "Good night."

"Good night, Draco, sleep tight." As he was walking out the door, he could have swore that she said, "Don't let the bed bugs bite." But it was probably only his imagination.

As soon as the door closed behind Draco, Elena went to her bed and lay down. After what she did to Ron, she really didn't want to go to sleep, but she was really tired, and losing the fight against her drowsiness. She pulled the covers up around her and was asleep in minutes.

Harry gave a thumbs up, signaling an 'all clear,' sliding against the wall from one room to the next, his wand poised like a gun. He motioned them forward with a flick of his fingers. They cleared three more rooms before the hallway branched in three different directions. Hermione was the only one who didn't want them to split up.

"They could be waiting for us down any of these passages," she whispered harshly. "It's not safe to go alone."

"We cleared the bottom floor," said Ron, whispering, too, "And most of the rooms up here. Chances are, there's no one here but us."

They argued for a few more minutes until Hermione finally relented. Harry went down the center hallway, Ron to the right, and she went to the left. They were to meet back in ten minutes.

But Hermione would never show.

She went to the left and cleared three rooms before she saw any evidence of Death Eaters. In the fourth room there had been a lot of dust on the floor, but it had been disturbed recently. At first, she hadn't been concerned. Death Eaters were too smart to leave tracks in the dust. But the room smelled like blood, and she though she could hear something down the hallway. She continued on. Harry was still the only one of them with an invisibility cloak, but she was charmed so that anyone who was looking would not see her, but something innocuous, usually a shadow. The charm wasn't perfect, and there were a few ways to see through it, but it was much better than nothing.

There were four robed figures in the next room. At least, that was how many she saw the first time she looked in. Moody had stressed in one of his many lectures that just because only four were visible, it didn't mean that there wasn't another lurking in the shadows. They were moving a box into the center of the room manually. That surprised her, these were Death Eaters, evil, but adept in magic, and yet, they were moving a very heavy looking box around by hand.

It slid into place in the middle of a chalk outline, and then one of the Death Eaters took a crow bar and started to pry to lid off. It took them over a minute of grunting and swearing until the lid finally gave. The shortest of the Death Eaters came forward and looked into the box. "Two texts," it was a female voice, "A statue, and a jewel. It's exactly as the old coot said."

Old coot? Hermione had no idea who they could be talking about. No one, not even his opposition would refer to Voldemort as 'the old coot.' She made a mental note of it, and the contents of the box. She was now in the room, and crouching low on the floor. Though the position was uncomfortable, it was the least likely to be discovered.

There was a sheet of paper on the side of the box. It looked like an address label, she leaned forward to see what it said in the dim light. Then she leaned quickly back in shock.

The box was meant for the British Museum.

That could not be good.

She pondered briefly if the box could have anything to do with the Horcruxes, but she disregarded that almost immediately. Voldemort didn't know that any were missing, or at least, he wasn't showing that he did. And he wouldn't trust something like that to four people. Besides, four Horcruxes in one place was just asking for trouble.
As was staying in the room any longer. Hermione started to stand up as slowly and quietly as possible as the Death Eaters put the lid back on the box and nailed it shut. The female Death Eater held up a hand. "Did you hear that?" She asked.

Hermione froze.

But the other Death Eaters were shaking their heads and voicing their dissent. The woman started walking in the other direction, and Hermione felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders. But she celebrated to soon. A fifth Death Eater walked into the room and shut the door behind him.

"We've been found," His voice was harsh and held a note of authority. "Hurry with this, we will not engage with the people here unless we have too. Understood?"

All of the Death Eaters nodded. And then he looked directly at her. Hermione felt herself go cold a moment before she saw a jet of light come from his wand. Then it was dark.

Elena woke with a start. She was out of breath and sweating, and her arm hurt. Actually, it was burning. It was her Dark Mark. He wanted to see her. After a dream like that, she was ecstatic about that.

Or not.

She got out of her bed, cleaned up, and put on a fresh pair of robes. It wouldn't do to look disheveled, or wear anything with a hint of Muggle in it around him. She apparated to him and explained her delay immediately, "I'm sorry for making you wait, my Lord, your summons woke me up. I did not want to look dirty around you."

Wouldn't want to look like a Mudblood or anything.

"I understand fully, Elena. After all, it is only, what, nine o'clock in the morning in England?"

As far as reprimands went, it was subtle and not harsh at all, but Elena understood the warning, and the advice.

Wake up earlier.

"Yes, my Lord." She'd apologized once already, to do so again would show to much weakness.

"Blaise Zabini did not attend our little gathering last night. I take it you had something to do with that?" He raised an eyebrow. It had been years since he'd been raised from a cauldron during the Tri-Wizard tournament, almost ten, in fact. And now, someone would be hard pressed to say that he'd ever lost his power.

"He had some Muggle bitch waiting for him in London. Unfortunately for him, he came to me for help. I took care of him, and the woman for good measure."

He actually smiled, "You are the daughter I never had, Elena."

Elena smiled, but she really wanted to throw up. He couldn't love, his soul was in too many pieces for that. But the emotions he showed to her and that damned snake, Nagini, were almost enough to fool someone.

Almost.

"What do you think of Draco Malfoy?"

The question caught her off guard, or as off guard as she ever let herself be around him. Malfoy, under suspicion? That wasn't something she'd ever expected. "He's a good man," by Death Eater standards anyway, "and a good wizard. Loyal, but," she paused for dramatic effect, "Do you suspect otherwise, sir?"

"Investigate him. He was late to last night's gathering, and he was reportedly searching the premises sometime before the gathering."

"I understand."

"Very well, that will be all." Elena nodded, bowed slightly as if he were royalty and she a high ranking noble, and apparated away.

Draco was surprised by the knock on his front door at eleven o'clock that morning. Everyone knew that the hours before noon were unholy, and it was alright to hex anyone who showed up uninvited at the door. Of course, if the uninvited person was a rather comely, brilliant witch, it wasn't required.

All of the sudden, Draco felt much more awake. "Elena, I didn't think you would be awake so early."

She flashed him a dazzling smile, "I've been up for hours. But, fear not, I know your habits and have brought your drug of choice!" She held up two cups of coffee and handed one to him, "Two creams, one sugar. Sissy coffee, just like you like it."

He had the urge to stick his tongue out, but he was not eight, and therefore, the action was not socially acceptable.

Elena was still standing outside, "Are you going to invite me it?"

She was never this cheery, but Draco chalked it up to a long night and a lot of caffeine. Taking a sip of his coffee, he motioned her inside and closed the door behind her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Of course, I've just had three other large coffees in the last two hours. I'm a little hyper." She was almost bouncing in place.

He laughed a little and led her to the kitchen. "Have you eaten anything to counteract the effects?"

"Eat? Why would I do such a thing?" She sat down at his table and started tapping her fingers against the wood.

Tap-taptap-tap. Tap-taptap-tap.

Draco opened a cupboard and pulled out two plates, then he found some bread and meat. He assembled everything to look edible and sat one plate in front of her, and taking a seat, another in front of himself. "You must eat, you silly girl."

She kept tapping, but eventually grabbed the sandwich and took a few bites. It seemed to calm her down a little. She still kept tapping her fingers against the table.

Finally, she put her sandwich, which she had eaten about half of, down and stopped tapping her fingers. "Do you think I was wrong last night?" she asked. "About what I said."

He gave her a measuring look, "What do you mean?"

"Is it wrong that I don't like torture? Even for blood traitors like him?" She let her head roll back so that she could look at his ceiling, "I couldn't sleep last night. His face kept popping in my head, and then there was what I told you. And I was afraid that you'd tell the Dark Lord, and…"

"I won't tell the Dark Lord."

Her head snapped down so that she could meet his eyes. "Don't make promises like that, Draco. I don't want you lying to him for me. Understand?"

He nodded, "What I meant was that I won't offer the information. If I'm asked directly, I won't lie."

She let out a breath, "Good. But was I wrong?"

He thought about it, "I don't like killing," he finally said, "I've frozen before, and, if I can avoid it, I do." He paused. "We all have our reservations, Elena, there's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't make you a traitor or anything, right?"

Her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly at that last comment, but she hoped he didn't notice. "Right." She picked her sandwich up again and finished it. They talked for a few more minutes until she made her excuses and left.

She apparated back to her apartment and started to compile a mental list of evidence for the investigation of Draco Malfoy. Just because the Dark Lord wanted him to be a spy, didn't mean that he was, but that didn't mean that he would be exonerated.

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