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"We trade honesty for companionship and in the process never truly know the hearts closest to us."

Sarah Connor, "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles"

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Crabbe had betrayed his friend, that rat bastard.

And he wasn't as slouchy as they'd all assumed, it seemed.

His ancestral family ring, given to him by his father upon his coming of age this year and signifying his place within the pure-blood Sacred Twenty-Eight, was layered with special spells. His allowed him to shake-off stupefaction and petrification spells in short order.

Awakening from her Stunning spell before his two roommates thanks to the ring's powers, Crabbe had unlocked his dormitory door and met up with Umbridge in the hallway. Resentful of Draco's treatment of him over the years, he'd turned on his friend and told the bitch what little he'd overheard of Hermione's conversation earlier. In thanks, she'd pinned him with the empty title of Inquisitor's Assistant, and he'd been helping her in her quest to locate the missing Malfoy heir ever since.

Ambitious toad.

She dropped Vincent's unconscious body onto the ground behind The Three Broomsticks, having gotten all she needed from his dim-witted head with Legilimency. Then, she reached into his head and Obliviated all his memories from the day they'd met in the Slytherin dorms to the present. He might have already squealed to Umbridge, but knowing what she did about him now, Hermione was sure he'd attempt to capture Draco and hand him over to his new boss, if he could. She couldn't allow that to happen.

Making sure she wasn't seen or followed, she hurried back to the Shrieking Shack and sneaked in through the back door. Malfoy's wand was at her throat a beat later. When he recognised her, he dropped his guard.

"You're eight minutes late. What happened?"

"Crabbe," she said, waving her wand at the materials on their make-shift table in the kitchen and assuring they were quickly, but safely stored away inside the small box on the counter. "Ran into him. He tried to use a spell to detain me."

Her companion snorted in amusement. "I hope you didn't hurt him too badly."

"He'd deserve it, if I had. The fink turned on you. He's Umbridge stooge now."

Draco was floored by that betrayal at first, but his disappointment quickly morphed into anger. "That fucking rotter!" he snarled. "He would have flunked out if not for me! I'm the one who carried him through school!"

Hermione well understood his resentment, but had no time to dwell on such childish notions now. "Go upstairs and stage the room to look as if no one has been here," she instructed him, feeling that familiar, urgent instinct to flee. "Time to find a new place to live."

To her surprise, Malfoy didn't argue with her.

Minutes later, they'd assured the shack looked as dusty and decrepit as they'd found it. Then, transfiguring their faces, hair, and clothing, they'd hurried away, just as dusk was settling over the land. When they were far enough out from the village, Hermione Apparated them away.

To her relief, the Black ancestral home at Grimmauld was empty, and it didn't seem as if the place was being watched from the street, either, as it had been during her last stay here.

"Where are we?" Malfoy asked, glancing down the long hallway as they stood inside the front door. He let out a sigh of relief to find Hermione's Hominem Revelio spell had detected nothing.

"Sirius Black's home." She headed down the hallway and up the stairs to the first floor, keeping her wand at the ready, just in case. "It was a risk coming here, and we probably can't stay long, but it's not a bad place to crash for a day or two."

"Are we going to keep doing this?" he asked a bit sullenly. "Jumping around."

"You're being hunted. Get used to it," she replied.

As she opened the door to the bedroom she and Ginny had once shared, she noted the bed was still neatly made, just as she'd left it the morning she, Harry, and Ron had left for the Ministry. That had been only six months ago in this timeline, but to her, it had been years. The sight of that mattress with its sickle-tight sheets and perfectly placed pillows and its soft, homemade quilt lying undisturbed on top made her chest go tight, as she realised she hadn't left a bed in this condition since that day, so long ago. Normally, it was a hasty get-away, with tangled, dirty sheets left behind without a backward glance…if she'd slept in a bed at all.

The thought of how much she'd lost, how out of place she was now left her reeling.

Malfoy's hand on her shoulder, his ancestral ring with the Malfoy family crest on his hand winking at her in the light, steadied her and brought her back from the brink of despair. She blinked away the past and turned to look up at him.

"For safety reasons, I think we should stay in the same room," she told him, forcing her mind back on task.

Malfoy was silent in the face of that pronouncement, but then a sly, insinuating smirk worked its way up his cheek. "Admit it Granger, you just want me in a proper bed this time." He pushed past her and moved to the bed. Sitting on it, he faced her and leaned back on his hands, a devious and cocky glimmer in his eyes and a suggestive tilt to his lips. "The floor of the library was hardly an ideal spot."

Frowning at his antics, she shook her head. "Your arrogance is astounding." She rolled her eyes and turned to go back downstairs, this time to head into the kitchen. She needed to do a visual on the rest of the house to assure it was completely safe. "Go take a cold shower or something, will you?"

He laughed at her as she headed down the stairs.

~.~.~.~.~

Waking from her nightmare with a jolt, Hermione sat up in bed, sweating and shaky, the remnants of her nightmare fading slowly from her mind's eye.

Harry had been crucified as the Christ had: nails through his wrists and feet, in a deliberate mockery of his nickname, 'the Saviour'. Umbridge had stood at the base of the cross, looking up at him with a fiendish, triumphant grin, the Elder Wand in her hand…

She turned to find Malfoy awake, quietly watching her.

"Sorry," she whispered, her jaw aching from the clenching she knew she'd done in her sleep to keep her mouth shut so she wouldn't cry out. It had been something she'd taught herself to do while on the years on the run. She could do nothing to prevent the bad dreams, but she'd learned not to scream out and give away their position.

"Did you love him?" he asked her.

"Who?"

"Potter. You say his name in your sleep."

She sighed. "He was a brother to me, never anything more, but Harry…he represented all my hope for the world. When he died...something in me did, too."

Malfoy's hand withdrew from where it had been leaning against hers, leaving behind goosebumps where they'd touched. "Yesterday, you intimated he was alive. Just now, you spoke of him as if he was dead. Which is it?"

Swallowing the lump of emotion tightening her throat just then, she shook her head. "He's not dead. Not for you, anyway."

He quickly puzzled through her words. "But he is for you, which means you really aren't from here."

Hermione stood, deciding she wanted a shower to wash away the sweat from her skin. "Forget about it. I'm sorry I woke you."

Heading into the bathroom, she shut and locked the door behind her, and charmed the shower to supply hot water. There was a cake of soap sitting in the dish, left there by her six months earlier, and recently used by Malfoy. Stripping down, she got under the spray and started washing her body.

As she cleansed her flesh, she let loose her tears. The falling water hid the sounds of her sobbing.


TO BE CONTINUED...


AUTHOR'S NOTES: PREVIEW OF NEXT CHAPTER –

"You can't summon a Patronus?"

He growled. "Few dark wizards can, Granger."

"You're not a dark wizard, Draco."

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We're now past the half-way mark with this story!

Thank you for all your wonderful, kind reviews!

XOXO,

- RZZMG