Torture.

Voldemort was too angry, too volatile, to let Ron have at it and so he was the one who dealt George with vicious variants of the Cruciatus Curse and other forms of magic Draco was unfortunate to witness.

This was after doling out everyone else's punishment.

Theo and his teammates were punished in their failure for not finding the third resistance member. Draco and his lot were punished for being taken down so easily by just one man who wasn't even in control of his own mind anyway. Of course, although it still hurt like hell, Draco's torture was less painful than the others'. The word "favoritism" could be heard rolling off of various Deatheater tongues –even those of his own generation. But only the blond knew the real reason why he had gotten off "easy," not to mention the slight reprimand he had been given by the evil snake:

Next time, don't fail in the process. Sacrifice without sacrificing.

Draco could grunt about it now. While standing in the Dark Lord office with the fiend before him, he had to fight hard to keep his face stoic all the while his innards were going haywire. It was easy for him, wasn't it? To bark out orders but not understand the lengths he and others have to go through in order to carry out such orders.

Draco sighed and flinched as he traversed the halls of Edinburgh Castle, Deatheaters branching off, sporting battle wounds and the effects of torture, to different rooms along the way. Soon it was just him and Blaise walking along, but before Draco could do his own bit of branching, his friend pulled him back and spoke in a dark, low tone.

"I saw you, you know."

Draco stared at him, partly out of a calm panic, but also with an inkling that what his friend was going on about had nothing to do with playing devil's advocate. He decided to play out the latter and feigned ignorance.

Draco shrugged. "Saw what?"

Blaise sneered some and huffed. "At Gavin's shoppe. The half-blood was kicking our arses and you just…stood there. Watching."

The blond couldn't help the small smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips. "He was kicking their arses." He corrected, nodding his head back down the corridor where the rest of their haggard ambush team went. "You, on the other hand, were doing just fine."

The Italian's eyes narrowed as his voice grew cold. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing?"

Draco's mirth faltered. He didn't like the way he was looking at him and now it was his turn to sneer. "Dark Lord's orders."

Those three words were enough to draw Blaise back. He blinked and glanced down the corridor Draco had gestured to not more than two minutes ago. "He's testing us?"

"He's testing them."

"Hm," Blaise said thoughtfully. "What about me?" He asked suddenly. "The Dark Lord isn't testing me? Not even Theo?"

"No,"

"Would you tell us if he was?"

No.

"Of course I would." Draco replied with a convincing smile. "Regardless, you have nothing to worry about. The Dark Lord likes you."

Blaise snorted. "He tolerates me. He likes you."

"And he likes you because he likes me. Now enough with this 'who daddy dearest loves more' crap. I'm tired and these residual spasms are driving me up the bloody wall."

Blaise laughed, soon after followed by a swear after his own residual effects of the Cruciatus Curse travelled through him. Draco turned and frowned so he couldn't see and glanced at a grandfather clock that chimed to his right. In another two hours it would be midnight. He could've been home hours ago had he not been tortured, but there was no way in hell he'd be moving an inch after what Voldemort had put him through –any of them for that matter. So he and the others had stayed at Malfoy Manor to recuperate. Quite frankly, Draco thought it would've been better for those who'd come back to the castle (Fiona, Marcus, and Adrian specifically) to have remained behind since they had been tortured the worst for "disgracing" their leader. None of them, however, had wanted to spend the night in the home of an emotionally unstable overlord, so they opted to brace the pain and travel back.

At least while he was recuperating Draco was able to sneak George's wand back to where he had taken it from.

"You look like hell."

Draco paused. He had made it to his bedroom and was startled by the voice, turning to find Giselle where he had expected Hermione to be.

"Swearing doesn't suit you."

Giselle smiled. "It doesn't; I know. But by not swearing, I would've completely undermined your disheveled look."

Draco grimaced. "Thanks?" He replied as he shut the door, then he looked all about the room for the brunette who should've been giving him a questioning stare by now. "Where's Granger?"

Giselle motioned her head towards the bathroom. How he had missed the sounds of running water, he wasn't sure, but sure enough there was a shower was going strong beyond that door. Draco even heard, much to his surprise, her humming.

Draco huffed. "You'd think she lived here."

"Hm," Giselle purred delicately. "Well, you did make it quite inviting for her."

"Did I?" He asked as he watched his imagination stretch herself out on the chaise. Her body arched slightly, her lips curled upwards, her cheeks a natural blush, and her eyes –closed as she made herself comfortable –opened to a soft brown that pierced him.

"Yes, you did." She continued. "You gave her somewhere to sleep-"

"It was a chaise."

"-A lovely room to sleep in-"

"That she was banned from leaving."

"-You fed her-"

"The house elf fed her."

"-You made sure she was able to bathe-"

"What kind of person what I be if I didn't?"

"-And you gave her clothes to wear."

Draco angrily crossed his arms. "I don't see your point, Giselle."

"To paraphrase your words," she grinned as she sat up. "Your inn girl isn't a prisoner. You're letting her stay. And now she's freely enjoying her accommodations."

The word "accommodations" made his jaw clench viciously. "This isn't a bloody hotel. She knows that, and if for one second she doesn't-"

"Malfoy?"

Draco sharply turned. There was the stare that he had been looking for when he had first entered the bedroom. Now that another set of brown eyes were on him, he felt uneasy, and from his periphery he could see that Giselle was gone.

"Polly!"

Polly the house elf appeared at his feet looking humble and ready to serve as most other house elves did. "How may Polly help Master Malfoy?"

"Where's that tea I told you to have ready when I returned?" Draco barked at him. Polly nodded.

"Right away, Master Malfoy. Polly will fetch it right away."

Polly was gone with a pop. Draco turned on his heel then to lightly brush pass Hermione, who was still giving him a quizzical look, and went into the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes catching sight of clothes that didn't belong to him. When he looked behind him Hermione was there, rouge rising to her cheeks as she held out one hand, the other holding up a towel around her.

How the hell didn't I notice that she was naked?

"Clothes, Malfoy." Hermione said sternly. Draco was jostled from his thoughts and he scooped up the pile from the floor and roughly handed them to her. Her befuddled stare continued even after he had shut the door and her eyes flitted between it and the spot where she had red-handedly caught her captor talking to someone who wasn't there. It sent chills up her spine, awful memories to boot, but she tried her hardest not to think about it. Instead she quickly dried herself off, dressed, and sat on the chaise. Once she had Draco had reemerged just in time to see Polly appear with a small folding table that he opened in front of Hermione. A snap of his fingers later and a tray of two cups of warm tea was sitting atop of it.

Just before Polly left Hermione caught his eye and he smiled as he nodded to her. A happiness settled in her stomach when he was gone and she itched with anticipation once Draco sat down before her.

"How many Deatheaters are here tonight?"

"Same as last night." Draco replied honestly.

She frowned. Her eyes fell towards the tea, and she immediately began to think that she had spiked it too early. He'll be furious once he realized what she'd done to him. Too late to turn back now…

"So, I won't be leaving tonight then."

Draco shrugged. He honestly didn't know. He still had to take care of one major step, and once that was accomplished, it could be a matter of hours or, Merlin forbid, days. "Maybe, maybe not. I'll scope things out after a few hours. If it seems quiet enough I can get you out tonight.

'But regardless," he continued, taking his cup in his hands. "You've been a real pain in the arse to have as a roommate, Granger –no matter how short the time. Can't say I'm sad to see you go."

"I can."

Draco have her an incredulous look. "Seriously?"

"Sure." Hermione smiled some, trying her hardest not to stare at his tea. "It means that the next time I see you I can't hesitate to kill you. In fact, I might have signed my own death warrant by not doing it before."

Draco chuckled. "You probably have."

Hermione took her cup and raised it to her lips. She watched her companion as his cup reached his mouth. And then she heard it. The gentle gulps that signaled the drinking of his tea. She grinned behind her beverage and began to drink hers as well. She stopped after two large sips when she realized that it tasted...off. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped her cup. Draco hadn't dropped his, but he'd stopped drinking as well and he looked utterly enraged.

"You switched cups."

Hermione blinked rapidly at his accusation. "Excuse me?"

"Don't deny it." He snapped at her. "My tea tasted funny, Granger, so out with it."

Her eyes narrowed. "You put Veritaserum in my tea?!"

"Of course I did." He rattled off. "Did you really think I was going to let you out of here without first finding out what you had planned to do with me had you captured me? How did you know?"

"I didn't!"

"Bullocks! How did you know to switch cups then so I'd get the Veritaserum?"

"I didn't switch anything!" Hermione blurted out. She groaned angrily as the truth came out. "I had Polly put it in your tea!"

Draco gave her the blankest stare one could ever muster. "How? He's my bloody house elf!'

"You gave me command over him when it concerns food, remember? I grabbed my potion that you never gave back from your drawer and gave it to him. Told him it was an ingredient that I wanted to have put in your tea the next time you or I asked for some. Polly was only too happy to oblige after I added that it would make his master very pleased."

Draco's jaw dropped. He closed it in an attempt to speak several times and failed at every turn. When he finally spoke he couldn't believe what he was saying.

"I should be pissed at you to hell and back right now but...I'm not." His lips curled up into a smirk. "That was very sneaky of you, Granger. War has taught you a few things."

"War has taught me too many things." Hermione sighed then and crossed her arms over her chest. "What do we do now?"

"Have a bit of fun, of course." He replied as he pushed his tea away from him. "You have questions to ask me, I have some to ask you, so let's use this to our advantage. Ladies first,"

Well, this wasn't how I thought this would go, but if he insists…

"Last night in your study, when Goyle talked about 'Weasley' being tortured…" Hermione held her breath for a moment, dreading the answer because she knew that she'd hate it no matter what. "Which one was it?"

"The twin,"

Hermione's eyes watered. "Is he still alive?"

"Barely,"

Her heart stopped at the word "barely" and she wanted to cry. She didn't though and cleared her throat to distract her from the stinging in her eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't kill him on the spot. Why isn't he dead? Why aren't I for that matter?"

"The Dark Lord wants him to tell us what he knows of the resistance. He wouldn't have been here if he didn't know something. As for you, I need you alive."

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

Draco wanted to resist telling her this next bit. In fact he could. Being an Occlumens allowed him to do just that, but what else could he say? Playing the role of Deatheater would only make her want to kill him even more than she'd originally wanted to. The last thing he needed was a pissed off Granger on his hands. And so, he gave her all that he had to offer: the truth.

"The world lost hope when they found out you were dead. Now that I know you're alive, you need to stay that way. The resistance needs you back. The world needs you back. The...the war can't end until you are."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She knew he wasn't lying, and so she had to actually sit there, she actually had to believe that he wanted the war to end. That he wanted Voldemort to lose.

"Do...do you know where the resistance is now?"

"No. The twin-"

"George,"

"What?"

"His name is George."

"Oh, well he said that he and the ones he was with were on their way to meet their ally when they bumped into me and the other Deatheaters. He knows where the resistance is."

"So you'll take me to him?"

"That's the plan. I want to talk to him myself first, though. You know, make sure I have a well-thought out way of getting you out instead of doing it half-cocked."

Hermione tilted her head slightly and smirked a little. "So you didn't have a well-thought out plan before you had this ally in your pocket? What was going to happen when my ankle healed otherwise, Malfoy?"

"You would've left the same way you came." Draco smiled. "Apparation. It was like I said when I was about to let you go in the hills. You were good at playing dead, and I was pretty sure you'd keep doing it. Is it my turn to ask questions now?"

"No, I have one more." Hermione casted her gaze to the floor because of what she was about to ask. Draco wasn't oblivious to her sudden hesitance and he already knew that he didn't want to answer whatever question she had. "When you asked about why I hesitated to kill you after I cut your cheek...did you really want me to do it? Did you really want me to kill you?"

I knew I'd hate this question. And yet, he still didn't lie.

"Yes."

Hermione frowned. "You can ask questions now."

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"Because you hadn't hurt me. Those people I told you I killed? They're dead because they all attacked first. You'd done nothing but take care me and so I just couldn't do it. It felt wrong to do it."

"Ditch that logic and ditch it quickly, Granger." Draco said sternly. "It'll get you killed one day."

Hermione sighed. "Get on with the rest of your questions, Malfoy."

"That night when you tried to capture me, what were you going to do with me had you succeeded?"

"Capture, bound, and drug you with Veritaserum. I wanted to find out what you knew about the resistance."

Draco grinned. "Well, you have all the information you need about that now." His eyes landed on her hand that had been cut on glass just last night. He still couldn't get how she had looked out of his head, and that's why he asked a question that he knew would make her fidget in her seat. "Last night when you zoned out on me, what happened to you?"

Hermione had managed to bat away the tears from her eyes when they were talking about George, but now that they were talking about this? She couldn't help it. The tears flowed slowly, but steadily, and she finally voiced her insanity aloud.

"I hear and see Ron."

Draco stared at her blankly. "You what?"

"I'm crazy, Malfoy." She admitted. "When Ron was taken away and I survived I was...I was alone. It started out innocently enough. It was just pretend. I'd make believe that he was still there, still helping me, still my best friend. But then he became more than just a voice in my head and I started to see him. And now," Hermione choked back a sob. "Now my manifestation of him can do things. He's been here. He searched your room. He found the glass and undid your charms. Or at least...that's what I had believed. I honestly didn't know that I was holding the glass. That I put it in my pocket. Malfoy, if I can't tell what I'm doing how can I ever trust myself? How can I ever know what's real?"

Draco sat before her with his mouth slightly agape. Not just because he was surprised at her confession, but also because he could relate to everything she had said. It also didn't help that the source of his own insanity had emerged again, taking back up her seat at the end of the chaise. He had to stifle his gasp, only now realizing how similar both Giselle and Hermione looked.

"You're not the only one who's crazy." Draco said softly.

He clearly hadn't meant for her to hear him, but she did, and now Hermione was staring at the same spot where he was. She recalled how she'd heard him talking from outside the bathroom door, only to find that he was alone. Even now no one was there, but the look on his face –that very familiar, zoned out expression, proved what she suspected. She didn't ask who it was. She didn't even let on that she noticed. Hermione merely sat back and watched him mumble to himself about someone named Giselle.

Draco left Edinburgh Castle around two a.m. when he was sure that Hermione was asleep. He donned his cloak, pocketed his wand, and left his room. Soon he found himself in town and standing outside of the recently rebuilt pub. Well, rebuilt was a bit of an understatement. Part of the right wall still had a hole in it while the front window was boarded up. Andy owned the pub/inn and being a squib he had no magical means to fix it. Draco had the urge to be nice and help him, but he knew that would only cause an inquiry as to whether or not he was actually a squib.

Despite the destruction, Draco found the person who he had come to see and he smiled as he saw him downing a shot of something putrid.

"'Ello, Mr. Deatheater sir!" Georgie greeted him as he walked over. "Out a bit late, aren't ya? And without your friends."

"My friends are pricks and I didn't feel like digging into my liquor stash at home. Mind if I join you?"

"After you!"

Draco thanked him with a nod and sat down. Andy walked over with what he knew he'd want and then disappeared behind the counter again. Draco spent the next few minutes just drinking and staring. Georgie. He was old as hell. He had at least four teeth missing and the rest were two shades lighter than corn. His clothes were tattered, yet still well-maintained for a drunk. And he smelled. Well, not terribly. Draco assumed that Andy let him and the other permanent drunks shower in the back so as not to run out other customers. And this was the resistance's contact?

Draco chuckled. He set down his empty glass, leaned forward in his seat and whispered, "Lemon drop 1998,"

Georgie had raised his recently refilled glass to his lips, but it stopped in its journey. He stared at Draco wide-eyed while the blond sat back in his seat, a smug look on his face, and his hands cupped on the table.

"I think you and I have something to discuss." Draco said calmly. "Don't we, Georgie?"

Georgie gulped. "Seems so,"

"Good then. Let's go."

Draco stood and waited for Georgie to stand. He did, tentatively, smiling at Andy before leading the way towards the back of the pub. They went past the stairs that led up to the rooms and soon down a small hallway that led outside. Once the door closed behind him Draco used his wand to lock it and then put up a Silencing Charm.

"Alright, let's talk –AH!" Draco yelled.

He had just been lifted off his feet and thrown into the wall of the pub with such a force he thought he would've gone through it. He looked up in time to see Georgie summon his wand to him and aim it straight at him.

"Just when I thought you were better than the rest of your lot." Georgie snarled at him. Draco opened his mouth to speak but he was being thrown again, this time up against the brick wall of the alley. He hit hard enough to rattle his head a bit so now he was seeing double.

"Georgie, wait. I-"

"'Wait' my arse,"

A flick of Draco's wand from Georgie's hand made him lift up from the floor and stick to the wall, a pair of brick handcuffs keeping him there.

"You killed him." Georgie accused. "George would never give you that code word unless you tortured and killed him for it."

"Or," Draco said, looking over impressively at his wrists. "He told me the code because he trusted me as an ally."

"An ally? Ha! I admit, I thought you were nothing like those other pricks, but there's nothing you could've said or done to make him trust you. Now, I have to kill you."

Draco smiled at him. "You're not killing anyone. Especially me,"

Draco flexed his fingers and his brick handcuffs disappeared. Georgie's mouth dropped into a small "o," but he snapped it shut as he whirled Draco's wand. A finger snap got Draco his wand back, and before Georgie could use his own bit of wandless magic on him, he repaid the impressive drunk trick for trick and bound him to the wall behind him. The only difference was that those cuffs enveloped his entire hands so as to prevent any wandless magic from him.

"Let me go!"

"Not until we talk." Draco said as he stowed his wand away. "Now listen to me, and listen to me good, Georgie. I didn't kill Weasley. He's still alive, but I don't know for how much longer." Georgie stopped struggling for just a moment as Draco continued. "He told me your code so that you would trust me. So that you'd know that I was on your side."

Georgie scoffed. "I still don't believe you."

"I figured you wouldn't. That's why I brought this."

Draco reached into his cloak and brought out a similar vial to the one that he had given George. This time he had already extracted his memories and shook it up in the potion. They had been re-categorized just before leaving so that he could include his conversation with the redhead.

"Open up."

Georgie eyed the vial warily. "What is it?"

"Not poison," Draco said as he uncorked it. "If I wanted to kill you there are easier ways than wasting my precious time in making a poisonous brew. Let's get this over with."

There were no other options for Georgie and he knew Draco would leave him cuffed to the wall if he didn't drink it. So, he reluctantly opened his mouth and let the potion swim down his throat. Draco and the alley disappeared from his sight immediately and he swore that he'd died. But soon there were images running across his vision. He saw Draco, a younger version of him, standing over a young girl –no, a young woman who had been beaten badly. She appeared to be dead, and upon further inspection, Georgie could see that it was Hermione Granger. The scene changed slightly and he could see Deatheaters taking someone away. Ron Weasley.

The scene changed completely then and he was standing in a large room of a house. Perhaps a mansion. A crowd of Deatheaters were there and surrounding Ron, including Lord Voldemort, who was the closest to Ron with his wand raised. Georgie was fully prepared to see his death, but instead Draco stepped forward, stopping Voldemort from killing him. He made another suggestion, one to make him a Deatheater instead. Draco had been tortured at the end of his words, but once he had explained (through gritted teeth as the pain of the Cruciatus Curse ran through him) how beautiful it would be for any enemy to see Ron with them, to have him torturing and killing his friends, to have him betray them, Voldemort was smiling.

The next scene showed Draco standing in Ron's cell where said prisoner was bound in the corner and sneering. "You can Imperius me all you want, but I'll fight it. I'll break it and I'll-"

"You won't be under the Imperius Curse long, Weasley." Draco told him, and Ron stared at him with a sincere expression of bewilderment.

"What?"

"You heard what I said. This is just…it's a better alternative to being dead."

Ron scoffed. "Why would you care about whether I'm alive or not?"

Draco frowned. "Because Granger's not."

Tears welled up in Ron's eyes immediately because he had seen it. He had witnessed the Deatheaters shoot curse after curse at her until finally she stopped fighting back and stopped moving altogether.

"I hate the Dark Lord, Weasley." Draco continued. "My actions may not prove it, but you do what you have to in order to survive. Besides, with you and your people out there I keep thinking that the war will end any day now. But…the resistance is dying. I can't let you die with it. I have to put the Imperius Curse on you."

Ron casted his gaze to the ground. He then stared at the binds that wrapped around his hands and feet. He then chuckled sadly, his tears finally falling. "I can't exactly stop you, now can I?"

Draco looked down to the wand in his hand and sighed. "No, you can't."

Various scenes passed from there. It was snapshots over the years of Draco as a Deatheater, helping any and every one he could when the opportunity presented itself. Georgie must've seen dozens upon dozens of instances like that, including almost two weeks ago when he was kind enough not to take advantage of that girl from the inn and make it look like he had. Then he saw Draco talking to someone in a hilly area. It was…it was Hermione Granger! She was very much alive, and hurt, and Draco had taken her in. She was with him in a bedroom –probably his –and he was making sure her ankle was okay. He made sure his house elf fed her. He didn't out her when he found her hiding behind his desk and his friends were also in the room. He spoke with George and the redhead did indeed give him their code word willingly and asked Draco to find his wife. Draco had agreed. And the last memory was of him and Hermione, where he told her that he'd get her back to the resistance. It was his promise.

When Georgie opened his eyes he found himself unbound from the wall and sitting on the ground. Draco was leaning against the wall next to him, and he looked down at him expectantly.

"Well?"

Georgie met his face and then he slowly smiled. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Malfoy."

Draco smiled back. "Likewise, Georgie. Likewise,"

Author's note: It's Georgie! Kudos to LightofEvolution for guessing that it might be someone from the pub. Well done :). And Draco and Hermione finally managed to clear some of the air between them. Granted it took spiking each other's teas to do it, but oh well haha.

Hope that you guys liked the chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Until next time,

-WP