A/N: I am not J.K. Rowling, but I did borrow her characters, themes, and some direct quotes from "The Deathly Hallows"


The next few days passed in a blur of chores throughout the Weasley homestead; everyone was put to work preparing for both Harry's birthday party and the wedding. Mrs. Weasley had thought it best to keep the lot of them separate from each other so she set chores that had left them no spare time to interact. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had no time to plan their next move but, to be honest, Hermione still wasn't in the right frame of mind. Her breakdown about her parents still felt too raw.

Much to her dismay, Hermione had not been able to think of anything but the look on Malfoy's face when she was inebriated and naked. A definite downside to the sobering potion was the immediate recollection of drunken activities.

She was smarter than this, wasn't she? She didn't just drink herself stupid and throw herself at boys! Malfoy wasn't just any boy! No, no, he was very clearly a man. Oh, I'd say so! She thought. She viciously scrubbed the counter top that she had been assigned to and willed her brain, for once in her life, to shut up. Of course, she had no such luck because the object of her turmoil chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

Hermione heard a soft, masculine cough directly behind her. She spun around to see Draco standing by the kitchen table, looking extremely uncomfortable and shifting nervously on the spot.

"Uh Granger-"

"M-Malfoy-" They both started at the same time.

"Sorry, you go..."

"No, no...you go..."

They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before Hermione found her voice once more. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy...For the other day I mean." She could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "I don't know what has gotten into me." Her shoulders slumped in defeat before she sat down at the table and laid her head on the wood.

Draco, for his part, was at a loss. He wasn't used to this side of Granger; he was used to swotty, bossy, brilliant Granger. Her embarrassment put him on edge so he made himself busy by preparing tea while he mulled over his thoughts.

"It's about your parents, isn't it?" He heard her shift softly behind him, but no words were spoken while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He had begun to think she must have left the room until she finally spoke.

"I saw you, you know, that night at my house." She sniffed.

"Would you have...? Could you have...?" She trailed off uncertainly.

Draco pulled the pot off the heat and grabbed two mismatched mugs from the cupboard. He placed the burnt orange mug, which was the larger of the two, in front of Hermione. She had her head laid on top of her folded arms and was staring into the distance so he didn't bother to ask how strong she liked her tea. He plucked 4 teabags from a nearby jar and placed them in a bright teal teapot before pouring the scalding water over them to steep. Only after locating milk, sugar, and a small tin of biscuits did Draco sit down and answer her questions.

"No Granger. I would not have and I certainly could not have." He rubbed his temples in thought. She looked so hopeless; it didn't suit her to be all mopey. "Come on, Granger. Shake it off. Life is shit and then you die so there's no use sulking about it."

That did it! She sat up straight and looked at him like he had just slapped her.

"Excuse me?" She hissed dangerously. "How dare you! You have no idea what I am going through! What would you know anyway?" She bristled. "You and your perfect family think you're better than everyone! Tell me, when was the last time you did anything remotely difficult?" He laughed humorlessly.

"I'm here aren't I?" Draco rocked back in his chair and gave her a measured look. "Or are you under the impression that this was easy for me? I'm not like you lot, it's not all rainbows and daisies for me."

Hermione proceeded to glare at Draco before huffing indignantly and pouring herself some tea. She measured herself five teaspoons of sugar and mixed what looked like half a cup of milk before taking a large swig. She grimaced, "Ugh, you're rubbish at preparing tea." She then proceeded to add two more teaspoons of sugar and mixing before tasting once more. She smacked her lips and looked up to see Draco's horrified expression. "What's that look for?"

"You just took a perfectly good cup of tea and turned it into liquid diabetes! Who does that?"

"Hermione does that," Ron said as he walked into the kitchen with Harry close behind. "Is mum around?"

"No, she's outside fussing over the state of the garden with Ginny," Hermione answered with a stretch.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ron plopped down next to Hermione and reached across her to grab the biscuit tin. "She's trying to keep us all from talking, you know." He shoved two biscuits into his mouth and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I've been thinking-"

Draco scoffed, "that's new."

Ron shot a glare his way, but otherwise ignored the blonde. "We should take him with us."

Hermione spewed out the tea she had in her mouth, spraying the table, and started coughing. "Say what now?"

Harry sat on the other side of Ron and looked like his thoughts were far away. "It's too risky...can't trust him...hmm." He grabbed a biscuit and nibbled at the end while mumbling senselessly to himself. "Can't stay here...hmm...yeah...Maybe you're right, Ron."

Hermione looked between her best friends like they had lost their damn minds. They had a point, sure, but for Ron to be the one to suggest it was just mind boggling.

Draco began waving his arms in front of the odd trio, "Uh helloooooo! Does anyone want to explain who and what you lot are going on about?"

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and leveled Draco with a green eyed stare. "We," he said gesturing between himself, Ron, and Hermione,"are leaving the Burrow very soon and you're coming with us."

"What the fuck?"

"Watch your mouth, Draco." Mrs. Weasley had chosen that moment to enter the kitchen and quickly began divvying up chores once more.


The following morning Draco awoke with a start to the sound of Potter muttering in his sleep. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than just five more minutes of peace so he picked up a small pillow from beside his cot and flung it in Potter's direction only to miss and hit Weasley in the face. Ron sat straight up and looked around the dark bedroom with bleary eyes until he noticed Harry thrashing and muttering in his bed.

"Oi, wake up."

"Yes, wake up and shut up," Draco grumbled from his cot.

Ron shot him a glare before looking back at Harry.

"You were muttering in your sleep."

"Was I?"

"Yeah. 'Gregorovitch.' You kept saying 'Gregorovitch.'"

Draco rolled to his side and looked over at his roommates huddled together on Potter's bed and paid closer attention to what they were saying; the name had certainly sparked his interest.

"Who's Gregorovitch?"

"I dunno, do I? You were the one saying it."

Draco could see Potter rubbing his forehead in concentration.

"I think Voldemort's looking for him."

"Poor bloke," Ron said fervently.

That's odd, Draco thought. He had never given Potter's scar much thought before, but this conversation had certainly taken a turn he had not expected. Could Potter's scar link him to the Dark Lord somehow?

"I think he's abroad."

"Who, Gregorovitch?"

"Voldemort. I think he's somewhere abroad, looking for Gregorovitch. It didn't look like anywhere in Britain."

"You reckon you were seeing into his mind again?"

Hold the fuck up! Into the Dark Lord's mind? Since when can Potter do that? Draco's mind was reeling with the new information.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Hermione," said Potter. "Although how she expects me to stop seeing stuff in my sleep..."

It was official; Draco Malfoy had entered the Twilight Zone. Not only could Potter see into the Dark Lord's mind, but he also didn't want the brains of the group to know that he had. Being around these Gryffindors might not be so bad after all. Now he had at least some leverage to maybe win over Granger's trust. Why that mattered, he really couldn't say.


That day had turned out to be Potter's seventeenth birthday party so Draco decided to make himself scarce as more and more people arrived at the Burrow. He chose to find an unoccupied bedroom and watch the day's events unfold. He didn't even bother going down to get food until he was absolutely sure that everyone was seated outside.

He watched in mute fascination as Granger made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes. He noticed Weasley smiling and speaking into her ear which earned him a confused smile and a blush from the witch. This unsettled Draco, but he couldn't seem to figure out why.

He ran down to the kitchen and made himself a quick sandwich before running back up the stairs and sitting down upon the window sill once more. He could see more and more people being escorted to the festivities below and felt even more out of place. The Order members knew and trusted each other enough to have joyful celebrations together. It wasn't for the first nor would it be the last time that Draco wished he could have been raised differently.

They all looked so happy...at least, they did until a streak of light tore across the yard and formed a bright silver weasel that stood on it's hind legs and addressed the crowd. The change in atmosphere was immediate. Professor Lupin and the pixie-looking woman almost sprinted until they could be seen no more. The crowd turned towards the gate where Mr. Weasley appeared with the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.

This can't be good.


A/N: I am absolutely awful at updating. I am so very sorry, dear followers. The muse for this story is being a nasty little see you next Tuesday. I am going to force myself to update with more consistency and all that jazz. I did quote a lot from the book, hope that is not an issue. I'm aiming for a flavor of cannon with my Dramione twist. Thoughts? Concerns? Prayer requests?