Hermione felt like a complete idiot. She had walked out the doors and was about to pass through the front gate when security detail asked to see her bag and wand. It was standard procedure; bags and wands were checked for anything harmful both on the way in and the way out of the Mansion. The spell they used to check the wand fascinated Hermione; with a simple command, they could see the last ten spells the owner of the wand had cast. It was so security could see if anything dangerous had been cast so they could get the Minister, and anyone else in the Mansion, out.

She'd handed over her bag and then reached to her back pocket for her wand to find it empty. After feeling around her robes and coming up with nothing, Hermione realized she must have left it back in the Mansion. She blushed, feeling rather silly. Honestly, what grown witch forgot her own wand?

Apologizing to the security, who kindly offered to hold on to her bag as she went back for her wand, Hermione turned back to the Mansion. She hoped she could sneak in unnoticed so as not to arouse Harry's anger or Ginny's jealousy. The detail at the front door let her through without a problem, and she snuck up the stairs into her room. Her wand lay helplessly on her dresser, and she picked it up, shoving it down into the pocket of her robes.

She tip-toed down the steps as quietly as possible, only pausing once when one creaked. Paranoid, Hermione had stopped all motion and tuned her ears for any sign that the Potters had heard the sound. She heard no footsteps approaching, and almost considered it safe and sound until she heard voices coming from the other room.

It was none of her business, and Hermione knew that, but she couldn't stop from inching closer to the room, leaning over the handrail in an effort to hear what was being said.

"Listen," she could hear Harry say, "I know you're worried, Frink, and I promise you, I'll make sure that my best aurors are out there to protect you tomorrow. Your life is completely safe."

Frink! Hermione recognized his name from what Draco had told her; her stomach dropped when she realized she was so close to the man who was out for Draco's blood.

Another voice chimed in, distinctly male. "Your reassurances are much appreciated, Minister. Thank you." There was a pause, where the man, assumedly Frink, cleared his throat. "There is evidence that the traitor in my security has connections to a number of former Death Eaters. Vincent Crabbe, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy. I've had trouble with Malfoy many times before."

"Yes," Harry replied grimly, "I remember."

"I have every faith in your aurors for tomorrow, Minister, but I'm afraid of what will become of me if some of these men are not present at tomorrow's speech." Hermione was cursing Frink in her head as he continued. "If they are not there tomorrow and are not arrested at that time, how can I be sure that I'm safe wherever I go?"

Having not considered this, Harry took a moment to mull the idea over. He certainly didn't want an important member of the Ministry to be vulnerable, but he worried that if he assigned aurors to trail Frink that the public would become suspicious. With a sigh, Harry stated, "You'll be watched until this threat has passed."

Frink smiled. "Excellent. Thank you, Minister."

Harry nodded dismissively, and Frink headed toward the fireplace to floo back to the Ministry. Suddenly, Hermione realized that either Harry or Ginny could walk by her hiding place at any second. Creeping down the stairs and out the door, Hermione's mind tried to wrap itself around the information it had just received.

Draco's friends were walking into an ambush; of course, she'd known that before. She'd been there when the man in the land of the dead had let it slip. But the situation became so much more real when she heard Frink himself plot to have aurors guard him at all times. If Draco managed to convince his friends that they shouldn't go through with their plan tomorrow, would they still be in grave danger? Would Frink actively pursue them? Hermione felt sick to the pit of her stomach when she realized the answer was probably "yes". She had to find Draco and warn him.

But where to find him, she wondered as security checked her wand. When they handed it back, she walked out onto the street, turning over the problem in her mind. She doubted he'd be in a muggle telephone directory; she doubted he knew what a muggle telephone was. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted toward her watch.

She had eighteen hours left to find Draco, help him convince his friends, contact Harry and let him know she was fine, perhaps make a last ditch effort to get him away from his psychotic wife, and fall in love with her soul mate.

And it was all easier said than done.

--

Harry had been surprised when Frink showed up in his living room, but he was floored when the older man confessed that there was to be an attempt on his life. At first, he had been doubtful; Frink had a way of concocting wild tales just for the sake of trying to imprison some former Death Eaters.

Yet as the conversation had continued and Draco Malfoy's named mentioned, his attitude had begun to change. While he and Malfoy had been on fairly good terms since the end of the war, Harry had never considered the other boy to be anything more than a friendly acquaintance. When that same other man suddenly appeared in Hermione's bedroom, that relationship had soured immediately.

Frink's reasoning for wanting auror protection became less and less important to Harry the more he thought about it. As much as he hated to admit it, deep down Harry knew that he had feelings for Hermione that signified something greater than friendship. He was adverse to call it "love"; it was something more akin to an infatuation. A very, very deep infatuation that he could not seem to shake himself of.

Of course, Harry had known that there was no future for him and Hermione. He had Ginny, and Hermione had been quite ill. But it had never truly occurred to Harry that Hermione was okay with their being nothing but a platonic relationship between the two of t;hem he wanted her to pine for him as he did for her. And when Draco Malfoy had shown up, flirting with Hermione in front of him, looking deep into her eyes…it had driven a small part of him mad with jealousy.

Worst of all, Harry was quite sure that Malfoy had enjoyed mocking him, even when they had been acquaintances of fairly good terms. And here it was: an opportunity for Malfoy to pay for being so contemptuous, so disrespectful. All Harry had to do was assign the proper aurors and his problem would take care of itself.

He almost couldn't do it; he felt too guilty. Harry may not have liked Malfoy, but he was fairly certain that the light side wouldn't have won the war without his helpful insights into Voldemort's inner circle. Yet images of Hermione and Draco flashed before Harry's eyes; the looks they'd exchanged, the way she'd smiled when she saw him enter the room. Guilt turned to anger and envy. So instead of listening to his instincts, Harry went with his impulse and assigned the security to Frink, washing his hands of the situation and secretly hoping that it would all pan out in his favor.

--

Draco was still and quiet for many minutes after Blaise, Vincent, and Greg left. He didn't know how to react. He couldn't believe that they had kicked him out of the group that he himself had started. He couldn't believe they were not going to follow his advice. He couldn't believe they didn't believe him.

Standing suddenly, violently, Draco kicked the thing nearest to him: the coffee table. It flipped over, spilling the coasters and various papers across the room and leaving his foot terribly sore. He swore under his breath as pain shot up through his leg, reaching into his back pocket for his wand and quickly healing the wound. His eyes swept over the mess he'd made, but he made no effort to clean it.

"Bloody perfect," he muttered to himself, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. He caught a flash of his wristwatch as he did so, which made his stomach plummet toward his feet. He had eighteen hours left to save his friends and fall in love with Hermione. Surpressing a shudder, Draco sprang to action, summoning a coat from the closet and apparating into the alley by his apartment building.

Eighteen hours wasn't much time, yet Draco stood in the alley, unmoving. His feet seemed rooted in the spot, refusing to budge from their position. Though he had been fighting the decision since he'd arrived back in the land of the living, it occurred to Draco at that moment that he would have to make a choice.

He could either save his best friends, his comrades since boyhood, and hope there would be enough time to find Hermione, or he could forget about them and devote his complete attention to his soul mate, thus giving both of them a far better chance at surviving. Part of him felt completely guilty for abandoning the other three men, yet another part argued that he couldn't save them if he was dead.

Still, a third part argued, what did it matter if he didn't save Blaise, Vincent, or Goyle. They had been the ones to expel him, anyway; furthermore, his Slytherin roots reminded him, did it really serve his best interests to waste his time trying to convince them of something they didn't believe in? Sure, by being persistent he might be able to save his friends, but it occurred to Draco that in doing so he'd be assuring himself no time with Hermione and ultimately his own demise. What good did it do to save those three if Draco would not be around to enjoy the fruits of his labor?

Hermione, he decided. She was the one he was to be focusing on. His "friends" were the ones who had rejected him, and he no longer had any allegiance or reason to report to them that they were walking into an enormous trap. He and Hermione only had so much time together, and that time was, literally, life or death.

His conscience tugged at him as he thought one last time of his friends, and he made a quick decision. He would go to Hermione, spend time with her, fall in love with her, and if there was time left over, then he would try to save them.

Walking from the alley with renewed determination, Draco turned off his brain and let his instincts guide him back to Wimpole Street. His feet took over, leading him through back alleys and streets as he tried to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

--

Rhonda glared at Todd, who had closed his eyes behind his large glasses and was obviously concentrating very hard. She poked the older man very hard in the shoulder, making him open his eyes and blink furiously. He soon returned her glare.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

Leaning over, Rhonda stared into the silvery pool that reflected what was happening in the land of the living. Both Hermione and Draco were visible, each walking hurriedly down the street. Rhonda pointed. "They just happened to start walking toward the same place at the same time?"

Todd grinned sheepishly. "I just wanted to give them a fighting chance."

"Well stop it!" she cried angrily. "What's the first rule of working here?"

The bashful smile had dropped from Todd's face, and his gaze drifted to the floor. "Don't meddle with the lives of the living." He glumly said. "But they were never going to see each other!"

"Then that would be their own fault." Rhonda's voice was cold initially, but she softened a bit. "I want to see them succeed, too, but you can't help them out, Todd. You don't know what sort of effect it will have of them."

"I know." His tone was that of a scolded child, remorseful and apologetic. Rhonda reached out and patted Todd's hand, as they both turned their eyes back to what was happening in the mortal realm.

--

After debating whether she do a location spell of Draco, Hermione found the answer to be abdunantly clear: she would go to Wimpole Street and wait for him there. It had been a few hours, surely he had either managed to convince Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, or he had given up. Either way, he would be along soon.

It occurred to Hermione that she wasn't entirely sure where Wimpole Street was, but her instincts seemed to know where to lead her as her feet took over and began to lead her in what she assumed was the right direction. The previous night she had hardly paid attention to her path, but as she grew closer, things started to seem vaguely familiar.

The entire walk took nearly a half-hour, something that Hermione was not too pleased with. Still, it had been the safest way to go. Though she had been there only a few hours earlier, Wimpole Street already seemed like some part of a whimsical dream, and Hermione didn't dare try to apparate there, for fear of being splinched.

The road was far different from how she remembered it. From her first impression, it had seemed wide and full, and she was positive it had been a dead end. Now, it was a narrow alley that stretched out toward another main road. Hermione supposed it was enchanted in some way; so that the living saw something far different from the dead, much like how muggles could walk by a wizarding establishment and never once realize it was there.

Leaning up against a street sign, Hermione once again began to panic at the lack of time. What if Draco took another few hours to find her? Could she truly fall in love with him in such a short amount of time? Without him there to reassure her, she was once again beginning to doubt that it was possible, the fear nagging at her stomach, making it feel quite upset.

Some otherworldly force, otherwise known as Todd, had compelled Draco to find Wimpole Street much faster than he anticipated; his apartment had not seemed so close the night before, but now it felt as though crossing the distance had only taken a few minutes. As he approached, he, too, noticed the differences in the street. They caused him to hang back and glance around cautiously, wondering if he had found the right place. His eyes roamed over the road as he walked up it from the portion that had been a dead end the night before. In front of him, looking anxiously in the wrong direction, stood Hermione Granger.

Relief flooded Draco. He'd feared that Hermione would not show for several hours. Always the careful planner, however, she was already there, waiting for him. A smile found it's way to his face as a playfully devious idea came to him. Quieting his footsteps and walking up to her back as soundlessly as possible, he planned to give her a little scare, only to be the one who was frightened when Hermione suddenly turned and screeched, "Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy!"

Draco barely had time to feel surprised as Hermione threw herself against him, hugging him close. He wasn't sure which stunned him more; the fact that she had known he was there, or her sudden, intimate greeting. Awkwardly, he wrapped on arm around her back, the other coming to rest on the back of her head.

"Oh it's awful, Draco." She said, any trace of the strangeness that had existed between them before vanished. "He didn't believe me and I forgot my wand and then Frink came and—"

Frink. Draco pulled away slightly, cupping her distressed face and turning it up toward him. "Frink? What about Frink?"

Hermione had to resist the urge to pout. She'd wanted to tell him everything before he began to interrogate her. "He knows about your plan."

For the second time in a few short moments, Draco felt relieved. He smiled. "I know, Hermione. The man on the other side told us that already."

"I'm not an idiot, Draco, I remember that." She spat angrily. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and amended. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried, now."

"Why?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Hermione said. "Perhaps we can walk and talk? I think most of what is about to be said is better to be said behind closed doors, where there are less prying ears."

Both of them quickly cast an eye around the seemingly deserted alleyway. It seemed harmless enough, but Draco was hardly one who took safety for granted, and he nodded, taking her hand (and watching her blush as he did so) and leading her back the way he came, toward his apartment.

She spoke as he led. "I was leaving. Harry saw me packing, and he got angry. Asked me to go. I had all my things together and went out through front gate so I got stopped by security." She paused, giving him a thoughtful look. "How did you manage to get past them, anyway?"

Draco smiled, pleased with himself. "Concealment charms and a whole lot of Slytherin cunning."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione kept going. "Well, they asked for my wand, and I realized I'd left it inside. I went back to get it and on the way out I heard the name Frink, so I stopped to listen."

"Eavesdropping, Granger?" he asked, his tone less serious than he felt. "Why, I'd never!"

She slapped his arm playfully. "Anyway, if I could finish…Frink told Harry that there was going to be an assassination attempt tomorrow, and Harry promised Frink that he would have the best aurors available for his protection." At that, Draco swore. He knew just how talented the best aurors were. "And then Frink said something about how the traitor in his security had ties to former Death Eaters. He listed you, Crabbe, and Zabini."

The air between the became thick with tension. Draco cleared his throat. "Am I being targeted?"

Hermione squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. "If you don't go tomorrow, Frink made it sound as though you will be."

Draco thought back to when he'd snuck into the Minister's Mansion and had flirted with Hermione in front of Harry. His stomach dropped to his feet. Was this his punishment? He gulped and then lifted a shaking hand to a build half a block away. "That's my apartment building."

Nodding, silent, Hermione followed him into the building. He flashed identification at the concierge and the pair climbed the steps to his floor, both lost in their own thoughts. Draco still held onto her hand, running his thumb softly across her knuckles in a comforting gesture. She sent him a small smile that he did his best to return.

Once they reached his floor, Draco and Hermione stepped into the hallway and walked toward his room. No words were exchanged, but none were necessary. Hermione had revealed something to him that made everything seem hollow; no matter what he did, how he spent the next twenty-four hours, he and his friends would likely be jailed, or worse, killed, at some point in the near future. Frink would make sure of that. Inwardly, Draco cursed himself for making waves. He shouldn't have been so adamant. He should have been more subversive, more tactful. And now everyone would pay the price.

The silence was killing Hermione, who felt guilty for being the messenger of such terrible news. She knew he had deserved to hear it, that he had needed to hear it, but she still wished that she'd never eavesdropped on that conversation.

Outside of his door, Draco stopped and dropped Hermione's hand, patting the pockets of his robes for his keys or his wand, whichever he found first. He felt something in his back pocket and reached around to grab his wand, but Hermione stopped him, reaching out her arm and catching his wrist. He looked up at her in surprise.

"Hermione?" he didn't need to ask the question for her to know what it was.

She gulped. "It's alright, you know. We can do this. If I…if I call Harry, ask him to call of security, maybe he will. And you can call your friends. Try to convince them to give up this whole Frink thing for good. I mean, the aurors can't do anything if there's no evidence you're connected to anything, right?"

Draco smiled tenderly. "My clever little witch." he breathed, as he leaned in to kiss her.

--

After leaving Draco, Blaise, Vincent, and Gregory had decided to apparate to Blaise's small house. They all agreed they needed a few shots of firewhiskey, partly to calm their nerves for the next day, and partly because they had just dismissed the brains of their operation.

Sitting in Blaise's cramped living room, nobody spoke. Each man sat, Blaise and Gregory on the couch, Vincent on the chair across the room, and slowly nursed their drinks.

Blaise was the first one to break the silence. "What the fuck did we just do?" Vince and Greg looked at him in surprise. Blaise continued, spouting profanity as he did so. "What the hell were we thinking? We just—oh shit—we just ditched Draco bloody Malfoy."

"He had a girl." Greg reiterated, tilting up his drink and swallowing the rest of the liquid down in one gulp. Fire shot through his body, warming him. "He—he was being a coward."

Vincent laughed coldly. "Well, what is he? A bloody Gryffindor?"

The three men shared a moment of mirth over that suggestion, but Blaise immediately turned the conversation back to his first point. "We just screwed up worse, you know that, right?" he ran an olive-skinned hand through his dark hair. "I mean, shit, guys. Draco did everything for this. This is his life. Even if he has a girl, which I'm starting to doubt, in retrospect…you don't think he was actually on to something? Something he was afraid to tell us about?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Vincent tapped his glass with his pointer finger. "What are you suggesting, Zabini?"

"He's suggesting we go back to Draco. Ask him back." Gregory scoffed. "What the fuck, Zabini? We just left less than a half-hour ago, and you're already crying like a lost puppy."

Blaise's eyes flashed at the insult. "I am not, Goyle. Shut the hell up."

"Brilliant comeback." Goyle shot back angrily. Blaise opened his mouth to retaliate, but Vincent interrupted them both.

"Both of you, stop it. You're acting like teenagers." Blaise and Greg stopped fighting, but continued to glare at each other. Vincent ignored that. "Blaise has a point, Greg." Goyle moved to retaliate, but Vincent help up a hand, signaling he wasn't finished. "Draco wouldn't risk the last five years for a girl."

His remarks earned Vince a nasty glare. Greg said, "Oh yeah, Vince? Then why was he trying to call it off?"

The three fell silent once more, letting Goyle's statement wash over them. Why had Draco tried to call it off? What if they were wrong, and there was no girl? What if Draco had known something that he had been too afraid to tell them? Something dangerous, maybe. Slowly, each man looked up at each other, identical expressions of horror and confusion written across their faces.

"Oh shit." Goyle swore. "Shit, guys. I think we should…I mean, do you think he'd—"

Vincent filled in the rest of Greg's thought. "We need to go see him. Try and get him to come back."

"Agreed." Blaise stated. "Let's go. Right now."

All three men pictured the alleyway beside Draco's apartment and apparated there, rushing into the building. The concierge had seen them enough to wave them by, and they went full speed up the stairs. Their hurry was probably unnecessary, but the time before the assassination was to take place was dwindling; every moment counted, and the sooner they were back in Draco's good graces, the better.

They burst through the door to Draco's hallway, Greg first, Blaise and Vince following right behind. When Greg stopped short, the two other man slammed into his back. They were about to start a scene when Goyle jabbed each with an elbow, then pointed down the hall.

Where Draco Malfoy was leaning in to kiss Hermione Granger.

A/N: Warning! This will be long because I have much to say now that I'm back and updating again!

I'm horrible at proof-reading my own work, so this is most likely riddled with errors. I'll chalk it up to the fact that I was sick today, which is when I wrote the majority of it. And also to the fact that I have trouble reading my own writing immediately after I finish. I get antsy. I start to read and then go, "oh gosh darnit, I already know what it says!" and then begin skipping passages, and so on. Keep an eye out for errors for me, if you would.

I know more than one person pointed out that I messed something up between Harry and Hermione in the last chapter. I haven't fixed it because I can't find it! I don't doubt it's existence, but wherever it is, I'm reading right over it and filling in the name I originally meant. Sorry, everyone. ): Feel free to point it out, and I'll make it right.

I upped the rating, mostly because there are some "bad words" in this chapter. I usually find profanity to be unnecessary, but I felt like it worked in the scene I used it. If you disagree, let me know, and I'll do some editing.

Not sure how I feel about this chapter, since I wasn't completely myself when I wrote it. Feedback and critiques would be MUCH appreciated! I know the hiatus was a bit of an annoyance, but hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! And if it wasn't, please let me know. Thanks, everyone.