Hermione shivered slightly in the cold draught that blew through the cave. She was only wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a thin robe, and the breeze seemed to be cutting through them sharply. Her head was bowed, and her curls were growing increasingly more tangled as they hung around her face. I wonder if it would be an enormous breach of etiquette to use my wand to make a fire? Or is the suffering meant to be good? She looked surreptitiously around the cave, and just saw a host of masks, with no indication of whether all the others were absolutely freezing as well.

Just at that moment, Voldemort swept into the cave, watching his servants bow even lower. Hermione's head was the only one that wasn't covered, her glossy curls glinting slightly in the flickering light. She inhaled deeply as she stared at the stony floor, desperately willing her breathing not to become shallow and uneven. But Voldemort didn't seem at all anxious to pay her any attention.

Listening to him bragging about the murder and tension going on in the community, Hermione was shocked. She had realised that she was living in a sheltered environment at Hogwarts, but she had thought that by reading the Daily Prophet she would be making some kind of effort to keep up with current events. But, when five minutes into his speech, Voldemort was still bragging, she realised just how many murders had gone unreported, how much had been glossed over. Suddenly, a name caught her attention.

''And Mad-Eye Moody.'' An instantaneous cheer rang out through the assembled Deatheaters. Clearly this was something that they had been waiting for, for quite some time. ''He was killed yesterday, outnumbered by my noble fighters.''

Nothing noble about killing an outnumbered man, Hermione thought angrily and then realised she was clenching her jaw. Fixing a mirthless smile to her face, she looked up adoringly at the man that was slowly killing off her friends.

''Granger, your thoughts on this.'' He suddenly snapped at her. Her blood turned to ice in her veins and she looked up at him, willing her fear not to appear in her eyes.

''He was a good Auror my lord, but clearly not good enough. As an obstacle to your ascension to power, I can only rejoice that he has been removed.''

''And what of the people who 'removed' him?''

''Noble Deatheaters, honoured to do their master's bidding.''

''And would you be honoured to do your master's bidding?''

''I would be happy that my lord trusted me enough to allow me to do so.'' Hermione rattled off the responses, desperately hoping that he didn't want to burn the Dark Mark into her skin.

''With that in mind, I order you to help me destroy Potter.''

Hermione inhaled so deeply she thought her lungs were going to explode. Quick, quick you stupid girl, pass it off as joy, pretend that you're honoured! But the words refused to come. Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, the narrow pupils become more malicious. ''Can I assume that you aren't particularly impressed by this arrangement Granger?''

Without any prompting, the Deatheaters stood and formed a circle around her as she remained on her knees. She saw one Deatheater who was slightly slower than the others, and assumed that was Draco. Please, you've betrayed me for so long, just protect me now, make my faith in you worthwhile, please Draco, please , she pleaded silently. ''My Lord…''

''Silence! Despite your assurances, you seem remarkably slow to seize this opportunity. All my Deatheaters would be desperate to receive such a mission.'' His white hand gestured casually at the impassive masks.

Let them do it then! Hermione exhaled slowly. ''My Lord, however much I wish to serve you, I do not…''

''Do not what? Is your shared past with Potter too much?'' The sneer in his voice was causing all the others to laugh.

''My Lord…you yourself said that she was innocent. Maybe it is too much to expect her to kill her former best friend?'' Hermione heard Draco's voice and relaxed slightly. Maybe now…

''Crucio!'' The word was shrieked and Draco fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Hermione made as though to move from her knees on the floor, but was instantly held back from a simple flick of Voldemort's wand. She sat there, mute and powerless, watching the boy that she loved writhing in agony. Finally, after what seemed to be an age, the spell was lifted. ''I will not tolerate that kind of insubordination Draco. Ever. Miss Granger appears to be unwilling. Why would that be?''

Voldemort lifted the tip of his wand, and Hermione's reluctant body straightened itself and then her feet left the floor. She was dangling in mid air in front of Voldemort, her petite frame lifted so that she could stare at him. Wide brown eye met cruel red one, and Hermione was sure that she was staring at her death.

''Allow to make myself perfectly clear Miss Granger. I intend to use you in the final battle, and I intend to use you against Potter. Your feelings in this are entirely immaterial.''

''I…'' Hermione tried to speak but felt the words choked off in her throat.

''I was so good to you.'' Voldemort emphasized every word in his cold, high voice. ''I ignored your filthy Mudblood status.'' He dropped Hermione to the floor and turned his back on her. Suddenly, rage filled her.

Pulling herself up to her feet, she stared at his back. ''I imagine it wouldn't take too much for you to overlook my blood status, given that yours is hardly pure.'' Her voice was icy and disdainful and she felt her spine stiffen. What a time for Gryffindor courage to come in – hardly tactful Mione. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco lean forward slightly as though in shock.

Voldemort pivoted slightly, to meet her fierce eyes. ''What did you say to me?''

''You heard me. For all your posturing about the purity of wizard blood, you don't have much to be going on! Your father was a Muggle who never wanted your mother or you! Your mother was practically a squib, and while she might have been descended from Slytherin, her family was hardly a model of sanity!'' Hermione lifted her chin, resigning herself to the killing curse that would surely be coming her way. I shouldn't have said that, but for Merlin's sake, someone had to say it. At least this way I don't betray Harry and Ron.

Voldemort pointed his wand at her, and she thought about reaching for hers, but what was the point, she'd be dead before she reached it, and surrounded as she was by Deatheaters, she wasn't going to be getting very far with it. Refusing to cower, she met Voldemort's eyes as levelly as she could and clenched her fists to hide the trembling.

''Stupefy!''

Before she could even register the fact that she wasn't dead, Hermione was crumpled on the floor, her hair spread around her and blood blossoming from a small cut on her forehead where she had smacked it on the floor. Voldemort kicked her side contemptuously. ''Pathetic. I take it you gave her the potion Draco.'' It wasn't a question, and even as it was asked, Draco felt Voldemort's presence in his mind, probing through his memories. Satisfied with what he saw, he withdrew and aimed another kick at Hermione. ''Lucius, take her back to your manor and put her in the cellar. I will use her, whether she likes it or not.''

Without another word, Hermione's limp body was levitated into the air, and she was removed from the scene. All the Deatheaters dispersed, and Voldemort swept away. Draco prepared himself to Apparate, and just before he disappeared, noticed a bright crimson splash on the floor where a bead of blood had rolled away from Hermione.

Arriving back at Hogwarts, he kicked a chair savagely, turning it over and breaking its back. I knew that bastard would take her away, I knew it, I bloody well knew it! He muttered to himself as he stormed around the sitting room, turning over furniture as he went. Finally, he looked at the room and realised that there wasn't any more furniture that he could break. He spun around and saw the mug that Hermione had drunk out of earlier. Snatching it up, he hurled it at the wall as hard as he could, screaming with rage as he did so.

Why didn't I just tell her? She was crazy about me, she would have been crazy about me without the potion, and I love her. I fucking love her and I've lost her because I'm so fucking stupid! I could have taken her off the potion, I could have stopped being a Deatheater, I could have joined the Order of the Phoenix… His thoughts tailed off and a sob left his throat. She had only been going for ten minutes and already he was missing her more than anyone, more than he had missed his mother when he had first come to Hogwarts. Walking slowly up the stairs, he opened the door to her room.

It was so neat, much neater than his own room. The only sign that she had really been there was the quill left on the desk, ink on its tip. He slumped on her chair, and pushed some parchment aside and rested his head on the desk. It didn't make wanting her go away. In fact, now that he could smell her perfume in the air, he wanted her more than ever, to hold her, to apologise, to make sure that she was never hurt again, to join the Resistance with her, to keep her safe during the war, to be with her. He lifted his head and thumped it down hard on the desk. The pain was almost overwhelming, but he shot bolt upright again. The desk was hollow.

Scrabbling madly, he pushed everything off of the desk and onto the floor, quills and pots of ink everywhere. Now that it was clear, he could see the hinge of the secret compartment, and with a simple spell, it was open.

There were photos in there, Muggle ones, of a young Hermione and her family. They all looked far happier than the Malfoys ever did in their family snaps. There were ribbons, pressed flowers, scraps of materials and letters – all the paraphernalia that teenage girls tend to hoard, each with a precious memory. And then there was a hard backed notebook, a deep crimson cover, with a gold ribbon tied around it. There was no spell on it, why on earth would it be needed? A spell protected hidden compartment, surely that would be enough?

Draco pulled the ribbon off almost reverently, and opened it gently, all his haste gone. The diary had begun with the school year, and he immediately noticed that she and the boys had been planning to tail him, using Hermione to get close to him. It detailed how irritating Draco was, how Ferret Boy was still gloating, but he would be the one sorry in the end.

Flicking through to the dates when he had given her the potion, he saw how her writing reflected the ideas that he had given her. Draco was no longer irritating, he was gorgeous, sexy, kind, clever, funny. Smiling slightly, he ran his finger over the words, as though by stroking the elegant script he would bring himself closer to her.

Then, he noticed a change in the structure of the writing. This letter started with an apology…

Dear Diary,

I'm so sorry I haven't written for a while, but things have been rather busy. In fact, things have been rather busy and rather awful. Draco was drugging me.

Draco blanched. She knew? When did she find out? When was the date? Merlin, that was about a month ago! She…He couldn't quite believe it and had to carry on reading. She listed what potion he had used and to what effect, and how she had explained it to Harry and Ron. Then how they had stolen his thoughts, and the details of what they had discovered in the pensieve. He blushed slightly at her description of the dream, and then realised what they had been doing – tricking him the entire time. I should be angry. I should be absolutely spitting with rage, he told himself, but realised that he felt absolutely nothing but pride. Merlin, she could practically have been in Slytherin. Lowering his eyes to the page again, he saw a bit that caught his eye.

I know I should be angry. I should be absolutely spitting with rage, but I can't. I looked at him earlier, when I was talking to him, and all I wanted to do was throw myself at him. When I kissed him in front of Harry and Ron, I mean, it was mortifying to do that in front of them, but I never wanted to pull myself away from him. And then, I got him to agree to take me to Voldemort, and I was thinking about how in his dream, he was saying 'She's not a Deatheater', and I couldn't help thinking that maybe he does care for me, and he doesn't want to just use me. And before I even knew it, one thing led to another, and we…we had sex. I don't want to call it making love, because that sounds so corny, and how do you make an emotion? But I felt so close to him.. And all I was thinking was 'thank Merlin I had this with him, I have this to cling to'. How sad is that, I lose my virginity and I'm already thinking that I'm going to have to leave this guy.

Draco wanted to curse himself. If I had told her what was going on, if I had had the courage to come clean, then she would have known how I felt. Flicking through the pages, he realised that she was plagued by doubt. Even when he had told her that he adored her, she was still worried that she couldn't trust him. She had told Potter and Weasley but other than that, she tried to content herself with living in her dream world, trying to ignore the fact that Draco thought he was drugging her. Oh my darling, I loved you, I didn't want to do that to you. I thought I would be keeping you safer that way.

Draco closed the diary softly and put it back in her compartment, and stared at the wall. Suddenly, an idea dawned on him. He kept saying he could have joined the Order of the Phoenix…what if he actually did? Ok, it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't killed or tortured anyone, so they could give him Veritaserum, and then he could go and save Hermione, and they could fight and…

He realised with a jolt that he didn't want to fight just to save Hermione. My entire life has been utterly pointless. I've just wandered around, living on the family name, and doing absolutely bugger all, except doing what my father wanted. And I didn't even want to be doing that. What if I actually got a spine, and stood up for myself? And stood up for Hermione?

Standing up, he realised that it was nearly morning. The Great Hall would be open for breakfast soon. Potter and Weasley would be there, and he would talk to them.

Dashing into the shower, he tried to make himself presentable and smooth away the fact that he hadn't had any sleep at all. He flicked his wand at the furniture to repair it, and then ran downstairs. Sitting in the Hall before anyone else, he stood up as soon as Harry and Ron came in, ignoring the questions of his housemates. Jogging slightly to make sure that he caught them before they sat down, he realised his heart was pounding with nerves. They looked just as wretched as him, clearly not having slept. He realised, after reading the diary, that they would have been expecting Hermione to come back so they could talk about the meeting. They must be feeling as shitty as I am.

Reaching out, he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, hoping not to cause a scene. Harry had turned with a smile, expecting to see another Gryffindor, but his face immediately dropped when he saw Draco. ''What the fuck do you want?''

Ron stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry, and glared at Draco. Draco swallowed nervously (Oh for Merlin's sake, you're eighteen, pull yourself together). ''I need to talk to you.''

''About what?''

''It's private.'' Draco couldn't blame them for the suspicion and hatred on their faces. If he were in their position he probably would have cursed himself by now. ''It's about Hermione.''

Their eyes widened, and now they seemed to take in Draco's tired eyes. He seized his advantage and pressed on. ''I swear I haven't hurt her. I know that you were playing me, and I need your help. And she needs our help.''

Ron and Harry looked at each other and then began to walk out of the Hall. Draco followed at a distance, they didn't need to draw any more attention to themselves than they already had. They walked into a deserted corridor, and as soon as Draco caught up with him, he saw their wands pointed at him. Holding his hands up in a gesture of peace, he nodded at a small alcove where they could go without being immediately seen.

Harry let his wand slip slightly as he rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out a small bottle and brandished it at Draco. ''Drink this'' he said brusquely.

''What is it?'' asked Draco, taking the bottle gingerly.

''Veritaserum.'' Snapped Ron, watching to make sure that Draco swallowed all of it. ''We made a huge batch of it with Hermione just before she began pretending that she was still drugged.''

''Oh. I read that she was pretending to be drugged. She was good, I didn't notice anything different about her behaviour.''

''Stop trying to be cosy Malfoy, why the fuck does Hermione need our help?''

''Voldemort has her.'' Draco stared Harry in the eye and dared him to try and disagree, but Harry just looked at him, secretly slightly impressed that he had called Voldemort by name rather than by title.

''What happened?'' Ron's voice cracked slightly in horror. ''She isn't…''

''Dead? No. She was ordered to kill you Potter. She refused. I tried to say that it was too soon to ask her to do something like that, but he just used the Cruciatus curse on me. Then he said something about her being Muggleborn, and she insulted his blood line, and then…then he knocked her out.'' Draco blinked rapidly, trying not to think about Hermione's small body crumpled on the floor.

''To kill me?''

''Who else Potter? Voldemort's entire crusade is based around your death? You're one of the last points of resistance! Once you're dead, the whole wizarding world will crumble.''

Ron nodded at Harry. ''He's right.'' Glaring at Malfoy, he opened his mouth to speak, then paused, and then finally spat out what he had been intending to say. ''How come you tried to stand up for her? And don't try and pass it off as some form of sick love, because you drugged her! You're the reason that she's in this mess.''

Draco didn't want to answer them, not wanting to reveal one of his only vulnerable points to his long standing enemies, but the Veritaserum was compelling him to do so, and reluctantly, he began to speak. ''You're right. I did start off drugging her – I didn't have any form of backbone, and the only thought in my mind was to keep myself safe. If Granger had to be sacrificed for that, fine. But then, when she said that she didn't feel entirely comfortable having boyfriends because she was so close to you two, and you'' he broke off and pointed at Ron, ''kicked up so much shit last time she had a boyfriend, it wasn't worth the bother. And, in case it had escaped your notice, she's bloody gorgeous! So, I get to kiss a beautiful girl and keep my self safe at the same time – I couldn't see a problem. And she had feelings for me, because otherwise she wouldn't have reacted to me. But then, the more time we spent together, Granger became Hermione, and now I'm in love with her.''

Ron gave a small snort.

Draco's voice picked up speed. ''I am in love with her, whether you like it or not Weasley! I was up in our quarters, and all I can think about her, I want to protect her and fight with her, and I want to join the Order of the Phoenix! Voldemort is scum, an evil bastard, he's stolen the first girl I've ever had feelings for that have gone past lust! I don't want to have her when she's drugged, I want her when she's herself. If you can't deal with that, fine, but Hermione is stuck in the cellar in my father's house, and I'm going to rescue her whether or not you help me!''

Ron stared at him, slightly shocked. ''Have you just admitted that you have feelings for someone Malfoy?''

''Were you listening to me at all?'' Draco asked sarcastically.

''Feelings for a…what was it you called Hermione for five years, oh yes, a Mudblood?''

''What the fuck does blood matter? She's better at magic than I am, and I'm bloody good! For all my parents want to go on about pure blood, our family line must have started in a Muggle family at some point. I love her, and I'm not going to leave her where Voldemort can force her to use her powers for a cause she doesn't want to fight for.''

Ron nodded slightly. It matched with the dreams, and the expression on his face when he had looked at Hermione.

Harry butted in. ''Swear that this isn't some elaborate trap. Swear that you aren't currently on a mission for Voldemort or any of his Deatheaters.''

''I swear that this isn't a trap, set up by Voldemort or any of his Deatheaters. All I want is to save Hermione. I want to get this filthy mark off of my arm, and I want to help to destroy Voldemort.''

Harry dragged Ron away from Draco, who remained slouched against the wall. ''He has to be telling the truth. Hermione brewed that potion and she wouldn't have mucked it up.''

''So we fight with the ferret.''

''Maybe permanently, he said he wants to join the Order.''

Ron sighed heavily. ''I suppose we have to trust him. Harry, don't think I'm weird for saying this, but on some level I respect him. I mean, Malfoys are brought up to look out for themselves, so the fact that he's going against what he's been brought up, and going against one of the most evil men ever, really says something.''

''Yeah.'' Harry nodded. ''So, we're going to work with him?''

''If it's how we get Mione back.''

They walked back over to Draco, and looked at him. ''Double cross us, and we'll kill you. Slowly and painfully.''

Draco laughed slightly and smiled at them. ''Point taken.''

''Hurt Hermione in any way, shape or form, and we'll kill you again.''

''I think I've already hurt her. Even when I was drugging her, I wanted to stop, but I kept thinking that was the only way to keep her safe. Under Voldemort's plans, all Muggleborns will be killed. If Hermione was one of his followers, she would have been safer, and then she and I could have faded into the background. But, she thinks that I was drugging her because I want to serve him.'' He spat the last word out violently.

''Tell Mione that, not us.'' Ron began to walk away, but Draco shouted for him to stop.

''I know I've treated you like shit. For seven years. I don't expect either of you to like me, but this is going to be a hell of a lot easier if we aren't cursing at each other the entire time.'' Harry and Ron nodded. ''We all need each other, and we all want to save her, so…temporary truce?'' His heart leapt back into his throat as he said it. Could I be any more of a girl? Working out friendships, desperate not to be rejected – utterly pathetic Draco, utterly pathetic. Despite his admonitions to himself, he was still ridiculously pleased when the two boys gave him grim nods.