Sorry about the delay... let me know what you think and any suggestions would be awesome! Thanks! Ciao! Enjoy,

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Hermione entered the dungeon, Oliver's hand on her back tense and holding her close to him as if Malfoy was about to jump out from the shadows and grab her, ready to disparate. She wasn't afraid of him. He couldn't do anything to her. Nothing. He was harmless and trapped. No magic, no control over her. She glanced around. She could see many of the prisoners lying or sitting in their cells. Some called out in anger, some begging, most silently watching as they went down to the end. She spotted Snape lounging on a bench in his own cell next to Malfoy's, watching them carefully. He returned her gaze with a scowl and a glare. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, to tell him that he should never have chosen to defect back to the Dark Lord. Instead, she returned his gaze steadily, passing on.

She wondered what it felt like, knowing you'd lost, knowing it was over for you. That you were on the wrong side. That the war was coming to a close and you had made the biggest mistake. She shook her head. She couldn't be too confident in their victory, no matter what Oliver and the others said. Muggle history proved that. The Germans had thought they were so close to victory and then were smashed back. But it's different, a voice in her head replied. They were evil. We are fighting for good...She shook her head. It didn't matter. Ego and confidence was the same, no matter what side you fought for.

They came to Malfoy's cell and she stopped just out of reach.

Oliver's hand found hers and squeezed gently.

"Aw, look at the golden couple..." Malfoy sneered.

Oliver bristled beside her but she shrugged the comment off. "You are like an injured animal, Malfoy. Nothing you say now will help you. You are finished."

"You have no idea what you are up against, Hermione. You should have joined me when you had the chance. Voldemort found this place once. What's to stop him from finding it again?" He laughed. "You will fail."

"Don't be so cliché, Malfoy. Voldemort will fall. It's just a matter of time. What I want to know is any information you can give us..."

Malfoy glanced at Oliver then over to Snape's cell. "And why would I tell you that, my darling?"

Hermione felt Oliver flinch beside her and turned to him. "Oliver, I need to speak to him alone... please," she added before he could protest. "The guards are more than enough help even if Malfoy were to get out. Don't worry about me, Oliver. I'll be fine. He's never going to tell you anything if you're here. You're a threat to him..."

He nodded, throwing a venomous look at Malfoy. "If anything should happen to you..." He touched her cheek gently.

"Don't worry, your princess is safe from me..." Malfoy cut in snidely.

"I'll be back in an hour," she said.

Then he was gone and she was left alone with Malfoy and Snape.

"I suppose you've come to gloat..." Malfoy spat.

She shook her head. "No, there's nothing to gloat about. We haven't won anything yet. The war is still coming. I just want to ask you some questions."

"Questions?"

Snape stirred from his bench and came to the bars, resting his arms on them lightly. "Miss Granger, do you really think you can save this world with the help of that Quidditch oaf..."

She gritted her teeth. There was no way that she would let someone like Snape prod her into anger. "I want to ask you some questions," she repeated stubbornly to Malfoy.

He lay down on his bench and folded his hands behind his head. "Ask away..."

"Do you know the size of the army that Voldemort has massed?" she asked, studying him.

He shrugged. "How would I know that?"

"You're his right-handed man!" she cried, exasperated.

He shrugged again. "They've already questioned me, Hermione. I've already told them all that I know..."

"All that you wanted to tell them, you mean?" she replied with a trace of a growl. Behind her, she could hear Snape chuckle. "Why won't you help us, Malfoy?" She was almost in tears. "If Voldemort wins then life will continue on to be terrible!" She felt twelve again, a small, helpless child. "Please."

He stared at her in stony silence.

She bit her lip. This was useless. Honestly, how could she have thought that a slimy git like Malfoy would ever help her? He had no heart. He didn't feel remorse for killing Muggles. He didn't care at all... "Fine. Then you're condemned, like the rest of them." She stood up and started off. She was almost at the door when he called her back,

"Come back Hermione. I'll tell you what you want to know..."

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She mulled over the information that Malfoy had given her. Ten thousand ogres, one thousand dementors... Voldemort had massed a huge army. And he wasn't going to be destroyed this time. This time would be the last. No one would survive. A fight to the death. She had to tell Oliver. She hurried off.