Bittersweet and Strange
Chapter 8: Barely Even Friends
Draco was silent for a long moment, regarding Hermione with curious eyes. She tried to ignore the lump growing in her throat and hoped Draco couldn't feel how sweaty her palms were getting. If he noticed, he didn't let on.
"What do you believe?" he finally asked.
"I believe what you told me six days ago when I woke up from the portkey fiasco. About your connection with the Order and betraying the Death Eaters and all that." She took a deep breath. "I don't have any clue how it's possible or why you would do it or why I never heard about it. I've got a million questions, but I just want you to know that I'll take what you said at face value and believe what you tell me."
Hermione expected Draco to give her a confused or even grateful look, but instead he narrowed his eyes and spoke suspiciously. "And why's that, Granger? You've been here for a couple of months, and not once have you showed a single bit of trust for me. What happened while I was out? Did Blaise or Theodore say something?"
Hermione shook her head. "They were tight-lipped as always. I've just… well, I've had six days to sit by myself and think about what you've said, and as strange as it is, I can't think of a single reason you might be lying to me. I've gone over everything you've said, everything your mother and your friends have said, even what I knew before I was brought here, and nothing actually contradicts your story. I'm willing to listen if you want to talk; you seemed pretty anxious to get it out earlier. If you don't want to talk or you need time to think, that's fine, too. I understand."
She started to move away, but Draco tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her back. His voice held a note of desperation as he said, "Are you joking?"
"No," she replied. "I'm through playing games."
Draco's eyes were wide in wonder, and he swallowed hard as he thought. Hermione turned her head to look at the floor, and Draco finally spoke. "All right, Granger. All right. I'll go out on a limb and trust you. I guess you've done the same for me." He let go of her hand and pushed himself into a sitting position, Hermione moving to sit back in her chair by his bedside.
"Seven years ago," Draco said, "I was one of Voldemort's best and most trusted Death Eaters. With Bellatrix dead and my father reduced to nothing but a drunk, I stepped up as the Black-Malfoy companion to Voldemort. It wasn't long before I became his right-hand man, even closer than Snape or Bellatrix had been. Voldemort trusted me with everything, and that's how I started to see through him. I'd had my doubts even before the Battle of Hogwarts, but I was too scared to betray Voldemort. When he won the war, I thought the safest thing to do would be to just play along and let him use me like a puppet. At least I'd stay alive that way.
"But it wasn't long after the War was over that I realized I couldn't live like that. Hermione, I can't tell you how horrible it was to have to execute my old classmates, to watch my teachers and friends and even enemies killed. I think it was McGonagall that broke me. I didn't kill her myself, but I was up on the platform when Voldemort performed the execution. She just kept looking at me with this disappointed but… almost determined expression, and that's when I knew I couldn't do it anymore. I went home that night and cried for hours. I even tried to commit suicide, but of course I couldn't."
"Why not?" Hermione asked.
Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, that's right. I haven't told you that part yet. I'll get to it." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that was when I decided to do something about myself. I started trying to find out as much as I could about who all had been killed and who might be alive. I was surprised by how much of the Order hadn't been caught. Zacharias Smith was the only one I found for sure. Is that right?"
"And Alicia Spinnet," Hermione corrected him. "Lavender Brown. Colin Creevey. Fred, Ginny, Bill, Percy, and Charlie Weasley. Arthur and Molly. All the Hogwarts teachers except Sprout. Lupin, Tonks, Shacklebolt, and of course Harry and Ron."
Draco didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at his hands. "Merlin, I… I forgot how many it was."
"It could have been a lot more," Hermione said. "You'd be surprised how many are still alive."
"Right," he said. "Well, that's a lot more than I remembered, but it's still not nearly as many as I had feared it was. Once I – oh, I meant to ask you. Blaise asked you a few weeks ago, but how did your name get on the list of those killed? My mother told me when the news broke that you had been killed. How did that happen?"
"One of the survivors was out on a mission and found a Muggleborn girl who looked a little like me who was already dead. She just transfigured her features to look like mine, and whoever found her thought it was me. I've had it a lot easier since then, not having to worry about being recognized as much as the others. No one expects to see Hermione Granger walking the streets."
"Well, I nearly had a heart attack when Mum brought you home," Draco added. "I still can't believe she didn't recognize you."
"She had no reason to. Everyone thinks I'm Amelia Finberry."
Draco frowned. "While we're on the topic, who is Amelia Finberry anyway?"
"Some poor Muggleborn who's been on the run for a long time. She'll probably catch a break now that everyone thinks she's been captured."
"So, how did the mix-up happen?"
Hermione gave a half-laugh as she began her story, leaving out the names and locations of the Order, as well as Dennis Creevey. She still had her doubts about telling Draco everything at once. When she got to the part about Augustus Sparrow revealing her disguise only to mistake her for someone else, Draco laughed out loud.
"Old Sparrow never could do anything right," he managed. "It just figures that he'd find the Wizarding World's most wanted and think she was a common runaway!"
Hermione chuckled. "It is pretty ironic. And that's how it happened. Sparrow put me up for sale and your mother came by that afternoon and bought me."
Draco shook his head. "I still can't figure out why she was there in the first place. I mean, she had been here that morning and didn't say a thing about looking for a slave."
"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "We ran into Nott's mother on the way from the market, and she's a right dragon."
"That she is," Draco agreed. "It's people like her that make me glad I'm stuck in this house."
Hermione managed a laugh at that. "Anyway, back to your story. You started looking for survivors?"
"Yeah," he said, picking up where he left off. "I went through all the Ministry's old lists of executions and prison inmates. When I realized how few of you had actually been caught or killed, I decided to try to figure out what had happened to all of you. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be, mainly because you're all so good at staying hidden. Once, I found a record that said Padma Patil was a slave, owned by somebody named Owens? Is that right?"
Hermione hesitated a moment, but pushed on anyway. "Cecil and Margaret Owens. A half-blood couple. I was on the mission that rescued her."
"I remember," Draco remarked. At Hermione's surprised look, he added, "I was there the night you rescued her. It was you, one of the Weasley twins, and Dean Thomas."
"How did you know it was us?" Hermione asked. "Why were you there at the same time we were? And how did we not know you were there?"
Draco gave her a sheepish smile. "Well, first, I was spying from pretty close range. I guess you don't know this, but once Potter was dead, I got his Invisibility Cloak."
"What?!"
"Yeah. Of course, I don't have it anymore, but I used it that night to get in unnoticed. I wasn't necessarily going to get Padma out that night, but I was definitely thinking about it and scouting out the manor for ideas. I knew the Owenses were out for the evening, so when I heard you all coming in, I watched you from the Invisibility Cloak and saw you first. I recognized Weasley and Thomas eventually, but I knew you right off. It took all I could do not to reveal myself."
"Why's that?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Because I realized that my suspicions had been correct," he replied, his eyes blazing with new vigor as he recounted a story that had obviously changed his life. "When I saw you and Weasley and Thomas, I followed you to where Padma was, and I heard you tell her that you were from the Order and that you were there to rescue her. When you Apparated away, I didn't dare follow, but I had all I needed to know what I had to do. I started putting the pieces together from there: how Padma's records had just become available in the Ministry and how you had showed up at the same time that I did. I knew it couldn't be a coincidence, and that's when I realized there had to be a mole in the Ministry, some sort of Order spy that was tipping them off on how to find other Order members. I did some research and noticed that three other slaves and one political prisoner had 'escaped,' and that just confirmed it. The spy in the Ministry – it's Katie Bell, isn't it?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying not to sound too suspicious. "I… don't know that I should say."
"You don't have to," he said excitedly. "She did. When I realized she was the only one it could be, I confronted her about it and got the truth. That's how she hooked me up with Dennis and I –"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "Dennis?! As in, Dennis Creevey?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah, Dennis Creevey. He was my contact."
"You contact?" Hermione echoed. Was it even possible? Could fate really be this kind to her? "Draco," she said, forcing her voice to be steady, "where is Dennis now?"
His delighted expression fell, and he swallowed hard. "I have no idea. After I got caught having a meeting with him, he disappeared with the Invisibility Cloak, and I haven't heard from him since. I don't dare ask about him. If he's still out there, I don't want to endanger him by letting the world know he was my contact."
"I cannot believe this," Hermione said, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace the room in frantic excitement. "Dennis Creevey was your contact in trying to defeat Voldemort. He's the mysterious contact. He has the Invisibility Cloak. He's been part of the underground movement all along!"
Draco swung his feet off the bed and stood, coming to stand in front of Hermione. "Granger, what are you talking about? What's the connection?"
Hermione couldn't suppress a joyful laugh as she spoke. "We've always known there was an underground movement. We didn't know who was a part of it or what they were planning, but we've always hoped we could somehow locate them and join forces. If we could do that, the possibilities to defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters once and for all would be limitless. But we had no idea Dennis was part of that movement!"
Draco gave her a puzzled but eager look. "Hermione… Dennis leads that movement."
Hermione had nothing to say to that. Her eyes huge, she dropped back into her chair with her hands over her mouth. Draco knelt in front of the chair. "Hermione," he said earnestly, "what do you know about Dennis? What's going on?"
Hermione shook her head, unable to even think clearly as the implications of Draco's statement rang through her mind. Dennis Creevey was leading the underground movement.
Finally, she gathered her thoughts and words and managed to speak coherently. "I… finding Dennis has always been one of our top priorities. He was declared dead last year because of a lack of evidence that he was alive, but his name never appeared on any execution lists; besides, every now and then, some little shred of proof that he's alive will pop up. He's one of the last living Hogwarts students who hasn't been recruited for Voldemort and who hasn't joined the Order yet. We never knew why he didn't come to join us or even contact us, but now I get it. He's been working to help us, just in a different way. I can't believe this!" She turned her stare on Draco, who was watching her carefully. "He's the reason I'm here, Draco. I saw him in a slave market and went to find him. That's why I got caught; I've been looking for Dennis Creevey."
"Dennis in a slave market?" Draco repeated. "Has he been freed?"
Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea. I didn't even get a message to the Order before they took my wand. I have no clue what's happened since I've been gone."
Draco frowned. "If only there was some way to get in touch with them."
Hermione thought for a moment, then said cautiously, "What about Zabini and Nott?"
"What about them?"
"What if they could get a message to the Order?" she asked. "I hate the idea, but judging by some things they said earlier, I think they might be on our side."
"They are," Draco confirmed. "They never helped me and Dennis, but they never turned us in, either, even though they knew what we were doing. They've become disillusioned with Voldemort as much as I have, and I know they'd help us."
"So you think they're trustworthy?" Hermione ventured.
Draco shrugged. "Probably. They can be right gits, but they're like my brothers. The question is, do you trust them enough to tell them about the Order and its location?"
Hermione bit her lip nervously. "I don't know. It was just an idea. I'll have to think about it."
"All right," he replied.
She took a deep breath and gave Draco a small smile. "So, Katie Bell?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, as if he had forgotten about telling his story. "Katie and Dennis and I worked together for a while before Katie decided it would be best if we broke off contact from her. We knew she was in touch with the Order, but she wouldn't give us any details about it just in case something slipped out."
"Why didn't she tell us about you?" Hermione wondered out loud.
Draco shrugged dismissively. "I asked her not to. I didn't think it was a good idea for any more people than necessary to know. Considering what happened with the curse, it was probably for the best."
"Is that why you joined the underground movement instead of seeking out the Order?"
"No," he said. "I… I knew a Death Eater and former classmate would never be accepted into the Order, and I thought it would be easier to join Dennis' group. Even then, only two or three of them knew I was their contact, but I was just too afraid to risk it with the Order."
"I would say you should have come anyway," Hermione remarked, "but I understand your point of view. I might have been more understanding, but some of the others wouldn't have been."
Draco nodded. "If there was one person in the Order I would have trusted, it would have been you." Hermione seemed surprised by that answer, so Draco pushed on. "I was pretty upset when the news broke that you had been killed. I didn't think I'd ever hear that, and it was hard to take."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that, so she simply changed the subject. "You said something earlier about using Portkeys to stay undetected."
Draco snapped out of his odd daze and began pacing in front of her. "Yeah. Dennis' people had some Portkeys, and he had me make one so I could stay undetected when I met Dennis. We decided on Grimmauld Place because it was abandoned and no one would suspect it as a meeting place. I used that corner of my floorplan as a Portkey and kept it hidden in my basement. I used that Portkey for nearly a year before I got caught."
"So how did that happen?"
Draco sighed and perched himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes boring into the floor as he recalled the memory. "It was in September. Dennis and I always met at eleven o'clock in the backyard of Grimmauld Place. I would give him updates on the Ministry and how he could rescue more people, and he would bring me the potions ingredients I needed."
"Potions ingredients?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you about that," he said, smiling to himself. "I'm a potions maker now. That's what's in the basement. The underground uses potions for most everything they do, and I supply them with it."
"How can you do that if you're trapped here and they can't come in?"
"Simple," he grinned. "I realized early on that even though people can't go in and out, objects can. I just package the potions up and lower them from the tower upstairs. Whoever comes to collect the potions uses Accio to get them. It's nice to be able to still help them."
"Does your mother know about this?" Hermione asked. "Is she helping you?"
Draco shook his head. "No. She knew a little about what I was doing before the curse, but I didn't dare get her involved. She has no idea that I'm still in contact with anyone, mainly for her own protection. If I ever get found out, I don't want her affected."
Hermione nodded. "Anyway, sorry I keep interrupting."
"No, no, they're good questions," Draco said quickly. "Anyway, that night, Dennis and I met at our usual time and traded information and potions. It was a freak thing, really. A Death Eater and his mistress met up there for a secret rendezvous and saw me and Dennis. Of course, he recognized me right away and petrified me. But he didn't get Dennis, thank God. I managed to toss him the Invisibility Cloak before he Apparated away."
"He didn't stay to help you?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"He's the leader of an underground movement, Granger," Draco said. "He can't risk being caught, for everyone's sake. I wouldn't have expected him to stay."
"It still seems like he could have helped you somehow," she said, sounding put out.
Draco cracked a smile. "Feeling sorry for me now, eh, Granger?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just get on with the story, Malfoy."
Draco shrugged and looked at the floor. "There isn't much else to tell, really. I was turned in to Voldemort and sentenced to be trapped in this manor for as long as I live, with no magic and no contact with the outside world. Voldemort finally allowed my mum to come and visit me, and Blaise and Theodore have been coming for a little over a year now. I was really having a hard time before Mum started coming. Even though I was helping Dennis still, I was lonely and discouraged and even suicidal."
Hermione pressed her lips together in thought. "Draco, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. Why didn't Voldemort kill you? I mean, I'm glad he didn't, but he usually just annihilates his enemies as a show of power. Why trap you here alive? Why not kill you and make you an example?"
Draco's eyes darted around the room, and he suddenly looked nervous. His voice sounded weak when he said, "I, uh… I always kind of thought maybe he… wanted to drive me crazy. You know, trap me alone in my own home, turn it into a prison. What better way to get revenge on your enemy, right?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes and stood, facing him squarely from his seat on the edge of the bed. "That's not true, is it? You don't want to tell me."
Draco started to say something in his defense, but he appeared to change his mind. He sighed and looked away from Hermione's intense gaze. "It's not something you need to know, Hermione. Just trust me, okay?"
Hermione eyed him a moment longer, trying to decide what to do. She was dying to know the answer, but he had already told her so much, and she would hate to end their first civil – even friendly – conversation in an argument.
"All right," she said in an even tone. "Another time, yeah?"
Draco looked up at her, obviously relieved. "Sure. Another time."
Hermione gave him a small smile as she moved away from the bed and toward the door. "Why don't you get some rest? I can make dinner and bring it up if you want."
"No, I'll come down," Draco said. "Thanks."
Hermione nodded. As she closed the door and headed down the stairs, she wondered what she had gotten herself into. Not only had she trusted him with Order secrets, but now she was making dinner for the two of them? They were going to eat together? She shook her head at herself. Merlin help her if anyone ever heard about this.
Cho Chang sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. Setting her quill down, she rubbed her bleary eyes and leaned back in her chair, thoughts running through her tired mind like so many freight trains.
She had been so sure that Katie Bell was talking about Luna's house. 'Rook' wasn't a particularly common word, and for Katie to use it in such a confident way, as if she knew someone in the Order would know what she meant, had convinced Cho that they had finally made progress.
But nothing had happened. Neville had sent Cho, Luna, Michael Corner, Romilda Vane, and Nigel Wolpert to the old Lovegood house, and they had waited for nearly eight hours in the freezing November night until Neville told them to come back to the Fortress. Cho couldn't ever remember being so disappointed.
Quiet footsteps on the stairs leading to Cho's attic made her sit up and look toward the attic door. She did most of her work up there, as it was quiet and she was rarely disturbed. She couldn't help but smile when she saw a wild nest of red hair, followed by a freckled face and a mischievous smile.
"Burning the midnight oil again, eh, Chang?" George asked, walking toward Cho's desk and pulling up a dusty old chair to sit next to her. "Or are you writing love letters to some old wizard?"
Cho rolled her eyes and pushed her chair away from the desk. "Just reading through Katie's old messages. It just doesn't make sense. The message she sent us Monday matches all the old ones perfectly. I just can't understand why she didn't show up."
George shrugged. "All kinds of things can happen. Maybe she was in danger of being caught if she left and didn't know she would be when she wrote that message."
"Still," Cho continued, "it's not like Katie to do something hasty. She's never asked us to meet her before, so I think she would have made doubly sure that she could come."
"Hmm," George replied. "What about that part about the subject? Do you think she's talking about Dennis or Hermione?"
"She doesn't know about Hermione," Cho explained. "I didn't dare send her a message for Hermione's safety. If she knows, it's because someone there has told her, and that would mean everyone knows where Hermione is. No, Dennis is the only one we've talked about in our letters, and I specifically asked her to look for Dennis in my last message. Katie was talking about Dennis. She obviously knows where he is but couldn't disclose it in the message."
"Smart," George remarked. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned his head on his forearms on the top of the chair. He was quiet for several minutes, watching Cho shuffle through her old files, before he spoke. "Do you think she's still alive, Cho?"
Cho didn't have to ask who he meant. "I don't know, George. I hope so."
"Me, too."
They were both silent for a short time, but this time it was Cho who broke the silence. "What are you doing up, George? It's after midnight."
Raising his eyes, George twisted his mouth to the side and shrugged. "I don't know. Couldn't sleep, I guess."
Cho nodded. "Maybe you should try again."
"Yeah." George sighed again and stood up, swinging the chair back to its original place. "Guess I just needed someone to talk to. It's lonely without Hermione around here."
Cho gave him a curious look. "George… are you in love with Hermione?"
George didn't answer for a long time, just stared straight ahead, looking into a place Cho couldn't see. "I don't know. I don't think so, but sometimes it's hard for me to tell. It's a confusing time."
Cho nodded again. "Yeah." A moment later, she said, "George? If Hermione ever comes back, and I think she will… you should tell her."
George regarded Cho a moment longer, lost in his thoughts. "Maybe I should," he said softly. "'Night, Cho."
"Goodnight, George." Cho watched him leave, then dropped her files into their drawer and blew out her candle. George was right. It was a confusing time. A confusing time, indeed.
"So where is the Order base anyway?"
Hermione paused a moment, setting the saltshaker down on the table at Draco's question. They were having dinner in the kitchen, a meal of canned soup and toasted bread between them. Their conversation so far had been genial and uneventful, and this was the first time either of them had brought up their earlier conversation. Taking a deep breath, Hermione decided to tell him. After all, what more damage could it do?
"Northern Ireland," Hermione said evenly. "Lee Jordan inherited a mansion there from his uncle, and that's where we are. We call it the Fortress."
"The Fortress," Draco repeated. "That's rather unclever, Granger. I'd have expected more from the brightest witch of her age."
"Well, don't look at me. I'm not the one who made it up."
Draco laughed, a genuine laugh, and Hermione found herself smiling as well. Who would have ever thought they could be friends?
Draco coughed as he took another bite of the soup. "What's in this, Granger? Are you trying to poison me?"
She snickered. "Don't ask me; it's from your cupboard."
"We can blame that on my mother, then," he said. "She brings food by once a month or so."
"You'd think a Malfoy would bring something a little less…" Hermione trailed off.
"Gruesome?" Draco suggested. "Unappetizing? Brain-melting?"
Hermione shook her head and laughed again. "Something like that."
"Yeah, you'd think so," he agreed. "But I get by on it. It's better than starving, by some margin."
Hermione was about to reply when the front door of the house slammed open, echoing through the stone walls and filling the rooms with a gust of cold wind. Draco jumped to his feet and signaled for Hermione to stay in the kitchen.
"Draco!" Hermione heard Narcissa shout.
"Mum, what's wrong?" came Draco's voice. Hermione stepped closer to the kitchen entrance so she could hear better.
"Voldemort has been critically wounded," Narcissa said, desperation tinging her voice. "Someone poisoned him this afternoon, and he's still suffering from the effects."
"Will he live?" Draco's voice sounded harsh.
"Yes, thank God. The healers have been working nonstop to get him stable. He's at St. Mungo's right now. I would have come sooner, but I was at the Ministry at the time, and no one was allowed to leave the building until a few minutes ago. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Draco said quietly. Hermione strained to hear his next words, but his voice was too hushed to make anything out.
A moment later, Narcissa, just loud enough for Hermione to hear, asked, "Where is she?"
Draco mumbled something that sounded like 'the kitchen,' and Hermione instinctively backed up when she heard Narcissa's heels sharply clacking across the entry hall floor. Narcissa strode into the kitchen a moment later, Draco only a few paces behind her.
"Amelia Finberry," the older woman stated. "Were you listening?"
Hermione raised her chin. "I heard."
Narcissa looked Hermione up and down, gauging her next words. Finally, she waved her hand dismissively. "Leave us, please. I have some serious matters that I would like to talk over with my son. Alone."
Hermione took the hint. Narcissa was being unusually condescending, but Hermione didn't let that bother her. Steeling her nerves, Hermione leaned down, picked up her bowl and water glass, and walked out of the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at Draco as she passed him. He didn't respond, just watched her go. A moment later, Hermione's bedroom door closed sharply. It didn't slam, but it definitely closed sharply.
It had been quite a day. Sitting alone in her bedroom and eating her soup gave Hermione time to process the day's events. Only that morning, she had been locked in that very room, determined to wait Draco out and hold her ground. Within six hours, she had come out of her room, found Draco's laboratory, saved his life, formed an unlikely truce with Zabini and Nott, and had dinner with Draco. Hermione briefly wondered if it were all a dream.
But she didn't let herself wonder too much. As thought-provoking as their odd little relationship was, Hermione moved on to more pressing matters, such as what it was that Draco wouldn't tell her. Yes, he had revealed most of his past and even been honest about his horrible deeds, but there was still one little piece, one missing link that threw everything just slightly off center, one little detail that would make everything fall into place if she could figure it out. And Hermione prided herself on figuring things out.
Tearing a blank sheet of paper out of the back of one of her spell books, Hermione set to work writing down everything she had learned so far. She wrote out a timeline based on information she had gleaned from Draco, Narcissa, and Blaise and Theodore, then created another smaller one that detailed Dennis' backstory. To her interest, everything fit perfectly with what she had known before her capture. If Draco was making this up, he had mastered the art of deception.
But Hermione no longer thought he was lying to her. Even if there were a few things he didn't want to tell her – things that involved suicide, Voldemort, and Draco's imprisonment – Hermione was confident that, with a little more time, she could crack the code and unravel the mystery. All she had to do was wait, and Hermione was a pro at waiting.
About an hour later, Hermione folded up her paper and tucked it in the back of the spell book for safekeeping. Setting her bowl and glass on her nightstand, Hermione was about to turn out the lamp and climb into bed when she heard shuffling footsteps coming down the hallway toward her room.
A soft knock on the door, then a very quiet, "Hermione?"
"Yes?" she replied, not moving from her spot.
"I, uh… I'm sorry about Mum. She was just worried about me and wasn't thinking about what she said. I'm sorry she was so rude."
Hermione smiled to herself. "If that's the worst treatment I get here, I think I'll survive."
Draco was silent for several moments, and Hermione began to wonder if he had walked away. She was about to start for the door when he spoke again. "Did you want to talk any more?"
It was Hermione's turn to be quiet as she thought. Though she would have loved to find out more about Voldemort's situation, there wasn't any reason she couldn't ask those same questions tomorrow. Besides, she was bone-weary from all the stress and excitement. "No. Let's talk to tomorrow," she said simply.
Another short pause. "That's fine. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she called softly. Sleep came quickly to Hermione that night, and she was more than willing to fall asleep thinking about Draco and his strange secret.
A/N: Hello, my dear readers! I'm sorry it's been so long between updates, but between Christmas, New Year's, and ballet auditions I have had virtually no time to write! I've an uneventful few weeks coming up, so hopefully I'll be able to squeeze in a few updates in between school.
So… yeah, this was a big, big chapter. I hope it wasn't confusing or messy. Part of the reason it's taken me so long to get this one out is how important this chapter is to the story. I didn't want to rush it. I know there's a lot of talking and very little Dramione action, but this will probably be the last of the lengthy explanation chapters and we can get on to the fun stuff we're all here for ;)
As always, your reviews are appreciated more than you'll ever know, but just knowing you've read my story makes my day! I'd love your feedback and your ideas on where you think the story is heading. This has been such a fun story for me to write, and I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am. I love you all and will see you soon!
