"I don't like this."

Both boys stared into the distance as Malfoy reached out a hand and ruffled Hermes hair. Instead of fiercely remonstrating, Hermes gave a foolish grin and patted his hair back into shape.

"I don't like this one bit."

Clearly jealous, Ron turned his back on the pair and moodily blew hair out of his eyes. Harry wondered how he would react if he spilt the beans right there and then about Hermes gender. But it was a trivial fantasy that had no option of coming out into the open. All Harry could reveal, was that Hermes was becoming more friendly with the enemy to improve their plight in camp.

But as he continued staring at the laughing pair in the distance, unease coiled in his belly.

They were coming too close for his taste. Although Malfoy still had issues trusting anybody, he was more quick to smile now and however fleeting the moment, it lit up his whole face. Those days were brilliant. He didn't push them as hard, especially if Hermes was around. But occasionally it was like the Old Malfoy took over and he would disapprove of what the new version was doing.

He would push Hermes away. Wake them up extra early and make them run fifty laps around the courtyard.

The punishments were as bad, as much as the rewards were a relief.

Today was a good day. Malfoy had woken up on the right side of bed this morning, and the lingering pleasantness un-nerved everybody in camp. Hermes seemed the only one oblivious, as he walked right up to Malfoy and started chatting, right after class.

Being first and second in class respectively, there seemed a lot to debate about. Occasionally Hermes would jab a finger in the air as if proving a point, and Malfoy would counteract by mouthing of furiously. Harry had no idea what they were going on about, but it seemed really passionate.

"You don't have to worry," Harry said dubiously. "They seem to be talking about school-work."

"And you think that's not something to be worried about?" Ronald turned on Harry, sharpish. "They both love school-work! School-work makes them happy! I don't think I can stand to watch them talking about something so happily. Harry, you have to go do something. It's Sunday, right? Grab Hermes so we can visit the Sunday Market together in the Lower City."

He was pushing Harry in their general direction before he even finished the sentence. "GO!"

Feeling Ron's eyes scorching into his back, Harry shuffled helplessly foward until he was within earshot of the squabbling pair. It seemed like the previous harmony established, had been turned on its head and now they were at each others throat.

Malfoy was growling and shaking his head.

"Aristotle himself proposed there are only five elements in the world-"

"None of which, make sense! A young french-man by the name of Antoine Lavoisier has come up with 33-"

"You trust the french?" he scoffed. "They have King Voldemort as a-"

Malfoy broke off when he noticed Harry standing behind them, trying to seem non-intrusive at all. But the damage had been done, and Malfoy remembered himself long enough to step backward and scowl at the two. He looked slightly bemused too. As if he didn't know how the hell he'd been caught up in a debate with a dweeb who could barely survive Newcomer's Night.

When Malfoy continued staring at him in a weird way- Harry jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Ron wants you to join us at the Market today. Says there's a lot he wants to show you."

Hermes, who had started staring Harry in a weird way herself, snapped out of it.

"Ah, of course! I would love too...yeah..."

"You could come too," Harry muttered in the general direction of Malfoy. He was hoping the answer would be no, but it wouldn't do any harm to be polite...unless he accepted. The sweat cooled on his forehead, when thankfully Malfoy looked at him as if he was going bananas, and left, sniffing something about extra sword practise. He didn't even shoot a final goodbye Hermes way. The poor girl had to catch herself, as the man shouldered into her and continued walking.

One look from Hermione stopped Harry from calling him back.

Don't you dare, it seemed to say and Harry quaked in his boots until Ron came and jumped in the middle of them.

"Yay!" he cheered. "The grey eyed monster has gone! Let's go shopping!"

He couldn't have chosen a better time.

###

Hermione got more into the trip, the higher the sun rose in the sky. In the beginning she had felt quite bad leaving Malfoy all to his own devices, especially since everyone else had paired of into two's and three's to explore the Lower City together. She knew he would be the only one left behind, and that made Hermione slightly sombre knowing she was the only one who came closest as a friend.

Surely, she should be more proactive and engage him in grouply activities?

But then realizing her mood was affecting Ron and Harry, Hermione told herself she wasn't Malfoy's keeper, and it wasn't like they knew each other well enough for her to throw her weight around. If he wanted some company, he knew where she was.

So keeping that in mind, Hermione started opening up more. Not about her past, mind, but her eyes and ears and basically drinking up the carnival chaos presented by the locals. If there was any simmering grudge towards The King's Guards, they were well hidden and everyone seemed to full of chuckles and smiles, pushing free cups of foaming broth in their hands, and draping silks over their shoulders.

Harry and Ron thanked them and moved on, but Hermione paused long enough to slip a dime into their pockets.

At one point, she even ducked into a blacksmith's tent to thank him for the free horseshoe he'd molded. The blacksmith was blind and greeted her toothily. He nodded as she talked, and reached out for her hand-

-when everything changed.

Hermione didn't see much. She was in the tent, remember? But outside, people started screaming when what sounded like horses trampled into the market. A harsh click slowed the horses down to a trot, and Hermione had to rethink breathing, when the shadow of a stallion fell on the tent. All she saw was an outline. An angry horse tossing his hair and whinnying. And then something more sinister- a big portly man who's figure seemed vaguely similar- dismounting from the horse.

She couldn't go out there. Something told her exiting the tent was very bad news.

The shadow of the man literally took a big puff, and started speaking in a loud bellowing voice.

"HEM HEM. I WOULD LIKE TO ADDRESS YOU ALL ABOUT THE DISAPPEARANCE OF A LADY. HER NAME IS LADY HERMIONE GRANGER. A YOUNG WOMAN OF EIGHTEEN SUMMERS OR SO, WHO WE HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE MAY HAVE ENTERED THIS TOWN WITHIN THE LAST MONTH. IF YOU LEAD US TO HER DIRECT CAPTURE, A SIZEABLE REWARD WILL BE YOUR PAY."

Hermione now knew why the figure seemed so familiar. Because it belonged to none other than Gregory Goyle.

He had caught up with her! Well, of course he had. In this day and age, if a lady of noble standing went missing they wouldn't let it rest without creating a big fuss over nothing. The only question remained if her parents were in on it too. Was Henley here? Helping this ogre find his sister?

"HEM HEM. LORD HENLEY GRANGER HAS HELPED ME RECREATE THIS LIFE-SIZED PORTAIT OF MY FIANCE. PLEASE TAKE A LOOK. AND FIND HER!"

Well that was her question answered then. Hermione had to bite back a wry smile. Her life was crashing around her ears and all she could do was give a witty commentary whilst Goyle out there, signed her death warrant. What must Harry and Ron think? Well okay, Harry would suss right away because he knew she was a girl and the portrait of her probably mimicked every feature. He would have to be blind not to figure it out.

Hermione shot the blackmith a guilty glance.

No offence, of course.

But Ron? What would he think? Had he seen the picture yet? Would he see that picture and suddenly have an epiphany about Hermes, the commoner? The only guise that separated her from a Lady was short hair (slowly growing out) and a lack of fine clothes.

She couldn't let Goyle continue parading her picture around, but she couldn't confront him either.

Confronting him meant certain capture, and a repeat of that performance in the Parlour Room all those weeks ago. She could still remember vividly ducking behind a armchair, armed to the teeth with cushions as missiles.

"Old man," she whispered, sitting cross-legged beside him. "Let me stay with you for a while. I wish to seek refuge."

"I sense you are troubled, dear one," the blacksmith whispered back, tugging at the silks wrapped around Hermione's neck. Hermione was pretty surprised he could sense them out, when he didn't even have vision to aid him. "Quickly. Wrap this around your head and nose and mouth. I shall do the rest."

Just as Goyle intoned-"Where is the local blacksmith? I need new shoes for my mares!"

Hermione's heart was trembling, just as a well-intentioned fool pointed out the tent she was currently hiding in! There was no escape. All four sides had been pinned down and there was no wiggling under them. There was nothing big/wide/opaque enough to hide Hermione without arousing suspicion. So quickly winding a make-shit turban around her face, Hermione rested her palms on her knees and attempted a Buddha-like pose.

"Ohhhmmmm," she said foolishly.

And closed her eyes as the tent flapped open.

He was there.

She could smell her once future husband even from a distance.

She could imagine him observing the odd pair from the entrance, before stepping in.

And bowing down so close, his face was an inch away from the blacksmiths.

Pugnent alcohol colouring the air...

"I want 28 horseshoes now."

Hermione flinched.

"You can have them," the blacksmith said, not missing a beat. "But my ailing eyesight is no good, you see. Assistant? Assistant! Fetch me a sack from the back of the tent full of horseshoes. I'm sure they'll be enough to appease this gentlemen."

She could do this. She could do this. All she had to do was get up, and look for a sack full of horseshoes at the bottom of the tent. She didn't have to look up. She could even function just looking at the ground and her feet, just to check she didn't trip over anything. Everything would've followed to plan too- if the original assistant that had given Hermione the free horseshoe hadn't popped his head back into the tent and said, "You called?"

NO.

NO!

Her eyes flew open and caught Goyle's. They were bulbous and squinty as ever, but suspicion seemed to make his eyes disappear altogether. His eyes caught hold of Hermione's and held- and recognition flooded him at once.

"It's you!" he hissed. "It's you!"

"It is indeed me."

Who the hell had just said that? It sounded a lot like her voice, but calmer if that made any sense.

Hermione would've congragulated herself well-done if Goyle hadn't shot a fist, and punched her in the jaw. Her head ricocheted back, as she broke out of her Buddha-pose and threw back hands to balance the fall. She was seeing many stars, and maybe a little red as well, as Goyle reached out and grabbed her by the neck-robes.

"You thought you could get away?" he hissed, and his spare hand disappeared under her robes.

It's not what you're thinking (though being molested is a pretty bad outcome in itself.) A searing pain gripped her thigh and Hermione didn't realize she'd been stabbed until the knife re-emerged and poked her in the neck.

He'd stabbed her!

The SWINE had actually STABBED her!

Hermione retaliated with a swing of the horseshoe. The lucky horseshoe that had remained by her side since she entered the tent. When the satisfying clang knocked Gregory out cold, Hermione turned and gave the assistant a weak thumbs up.

"Quality horseshoe there," she said, and promptly passed out.

###

On the otherside of town, in an enclosure otherwise known as The Courtyard, Malfoy was oblivious to what happening to his "friend." Instead he was working up sweat of another kind, as he swished and he sliced at an invisible enemy. Maybe it was his demons, telling him friends were nothing but enemies with a smile. Or maybe he was picturing Harry, snatching Hermes away before time decreed it...

Or maybe it was Hermes himself.

For being such a rotten fellow and being good company.

Which was it?

He continued working at a furious pace, until the sun was a little lower in the sky and he spied Lavender, peeping at him from around a corner. This time she had friends, a small crowd of like-minded creatures only interested in seeing a boy working out. Draco curled his lip and turned away, disgusted to think one day he would have to get married to them if he survived the battlefield.

But Draco was already married to his sword, and he didn't see himself walking away from battle alive.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

His motto.

He would ink the words onto his breast, if he were allowed. But men were not allowed to willingly scar themselves, even if it was to ink their chest, because it was a painful procedure which involved his flesh being carved into, and ink filling up the raw wound. It was un-necessary torture, the King had decreed. And so Draco had lived, by the King's word.

He took a bath to take his mind off a lot of things, and emerged freshly laundered and drying his hair with a slip of cloth.

After he wandered back to the Courtyard, and sat on a bench for a while, lazily tapping his feet on the ground.

He wasn't thinking of Hermes.

He swore he wasn't thinking of Hermes.

But as he closed his eyes to...dwell a little more, panicked cries made him lose the lazy game fast. Draco had seen wounds in the past. Hell he'd even survived a couple in his lifetime. The most recent one (given by Errol) slowly starting to knit together to form new skin. But as he saw Ron run to push open the The Gate, Draco felt slightly sick for who would come through the gate next.

The next person was Harry, holding someone small in his arms.

The figure was unconscious, and it kept bobbing up and down as if it had no life of it's own. Ron had barely called for, "MEDIC!" before Draco had materialised, looking oddly pale faced as Hermes was carried past him. Was that concern stirring his heart? No, surely not. He merely wanted to assess the injury, because the boy was part of his brigade and counted in numbers, you see.

"What happened?" Inadvertently his feet was keeping up with the trio. Why was it doing that? It had no business about being concerned for their welfare.

"Not you," Ron said rudely, still helping Harry hold Hermes up and searching around for a more useful person. Okay, so Malfoy was a leader, sure. He could even kill ten people single-handedly, triple horray. But killers never really had the same touch as healers, you know?

Draco stopped as if he'd been slapped, knowing he was not wanted.

Plus he had other things troubling him anyway, like...

sneaking into the Infirmery to check on Hermes in the middle of the night.

Yeah.

So he really was concerned.

Bite him.

Draco silently padded down the corridor and opened the Infirmery door, just to check Hermes was sleeping restfully. He hadn't expected to stay long, maybe two minutes at the most. But that plan went out the window, when he opened the door and found Hermes wide awake.

Hermes didn't acknowledge Draco by looking at him. Instead he lay there, staring at the ceiling, as if struggling to breathe.

Draco closed the door quietly behind him and walked to Hermione's beside, the sword mysteriously absent from his hips. He didn't attempt to touch her physically, but remained standing there until her wild, crazy eyes caught his cool, icy gaze.

He folded his arms across his chest.

"The next time you want to leave This Guild," he intoned. "You have to take me with you."

It was his way of saying he wanted to be...

The Protector.

The Defender.

And most importantly...

The person by her side.


A/N: Draco...what are you doing to me? I also know how many chapters this story is going to have/what's gonna happen in them/EVERYTHING. Be very afraid :P

HELP ME REACH 90 REVIEWS GUYS. Seriously. Your thingies are what gears me to write, everytime :) I've never finished a story over 4K before, and this could by my fir...(no, I don't want to jinx it.)

Caffeinated beverages to:

- thebedazzlingmasqueradegirl
-krista04 (oh wait...I don't know if I actually replied. Figs! LOL, well first I thought you were telling me my story needed more humour, which is probably true, but then I realised you were urging me to add it to my category. I don't know. Someone else was telling me it was under "Adventure." I don't know! It's just a story. I don't think about these kind of things. LOL. The answer to your question is that yes, Harry does fancy Hermione a little, but I don't think he'll ever act on it.)
-Arty
-daisyatdusk
-Ulquishinee
-ThePowerOfTheTree
-smartypants trip4
-forbiddenluv
-Just me (LOL, I love how your review is really lovely, and then you just label it "Just me." Made me laugh)
-The-tall-girl-in-green (btw whenever I type your pen-name I always miss out a word, and have to go back and check I got it right :P)
-smileylol
-Mi High Lover (Does Oscar ring any bells?)
-REDRydingHood
-oscarg (Don't! Googling STD'S is never good. If you didn't know, they stand for Sexually Transmitted Disease. That can cover a wide range of things!)
-fanficftw23 (You reviewed literally just as I was finishing this chapter up. Well done for getting into my list just in time!)

I have double biology tommorow. Photosynthesis, anyone? And before anyone mocks me about how "Primary/Elementary School" that topic is, we just covered the "Light Dependent Reaction" and my brain just FRIED. So there :P