Disclaimer's Notice: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters featuring in the books or the films. They belong to J.K Rowling and her wonderful mind.

Chapter 10

"He has Magic!" Harry roared as his fist came crashing down onto the table.

Hermione winced; she had expected Harry to be angry but not this angry. Malfoy's omission of power retained seemed to have affected Harry more than it did her. Despite her reservations over his reaction she allowed him to rant a while longer.

"That lying scheming, no good snake! I knew we couldn't trust him. I knew from the second he laid foot on our land that he was going to be nothing but trouble. You should have let me kill him from the start; how are we supposed to end him now when he has more power than any of us ever dreamed of despite the fact that he is unarmed!"

Hermione sat down in an armchair by the empty fireplace. Silently unsheathing the dagger from her boot she began rotating it in her hands allowing Harry a few moments to compose himself. "He does not want to hurt us Harry. I believe him when he says he came here to help us. Why else would he have waited three months as our prisoner before revealing his power? He could have blasted his way out of that cell on any given night and murdered us all in our sleep if that is what he came here for. Malfoy came here to help us end Voldemort and we should allow him the opportunity to do so. What harm comes from accepting his offer?"

"Are you so blind to the obvious? Malfoy is a manipulator, Hermione. Always has been, and old dogs do not learn new tricks no matter how hard their masters try. He has gotten under your skin so effectively that you are actually defending him to me of all people! Do you remember NOTHING of what we have suffered at the hands of his once comrades in arms," bellowed Harry.

Hermione bolted out of the chair, threw the dagger at the floor and marched straight past its quivering hilt up to her friend. "Remember? Do I remember? Harry you are so blinded by your hatred of this man that you have forgotten who you are talking to. When you married Ginny and the Death Eaters raided your wedding reception, who got you both out in one piece? When James was born who stood guard outside Ginny's room at St. Mungo's? When you were at Grimmauld Place hosting that summit, who stayed in the freezing North to guard that which you valued most? When they were killed who nursed you back to health? Who pulled you back into reality? Who reminded you of what we were fighting for?"

Harry deflated slightly at Hermione's words and had the decency to look sheepish. He began to move away but Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders and continued, "I am telling you we have a way to end it; to make it all worth something. All the pain, the loss and the suffering! We have a means to make sure no one in this world has to experience what we have ever again. Take it Harry! As your best friend, your advisor, your General I implore you! Take the opportunity. Use him, learn from him and let's strike back with such vengeance they will never know what hit them. When it's done you can kill him, I swear to you I will not stand in your way. In fact, I will give you the blade to slit his throat myself."

Releasing Harry, Hermione walked back to the armchair and retrieved her dagger still embedded in the wooden floorboards. Sheathing it back in her boot she turned to face him once more, "Listen to what he has to say, I promise you will not regret it."

Harry nodded, "Fine. I will listen to what he has to say but that does not mean I will believe him or trust him. If my listening to him will make you feel better about his presence here I will. I'll meet you in the dungeons shortly. I have to send a few owls before I meet with him."

Hermione smiled and nodded her thanks; turning to leave she was stopped at the door by Harry's voice.

"He would have been proud of you today, you know. Thorin…he would have been proud."

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes; blinking them away she looked over her shoulder at the second empty chair by the fireplace, "He's dead Harry; it doesn't matter what he would have thought."

She opened the door and left the room feeling Harry's eyes at her back. Walking down the corridor she reached a flight of stairs. Climbing to the roof took less time than it normally did probably because for the first time she wasn't counting the steps. Hermione emerged on the roof at the base of the eastern-most battlement of the castle. Placing a hand on the cooling stone wall she pressed her forehead against it and allowed a few tears to fall onto her cheeks.

Thorin.

Why did Harry have to bring up Thorin? Her teacher, her mentor, her rock, her advisor, her brother, her confidant, her best friend, her lover… Thorin was all of these and more; and he had been ripped from her side in the same battle that had claimed the life of Ginny and Harry's infant son James. She still remembered that moment like it had been yesterday and despite the years that had passed the memory came back to her as if it was happening all over again before her very eyes.

There was chaos all around her; bodies, blood and screaming everywhere. Spells flying about with such intensity it was an almost beautiful spectacle of light and colour. She saw Ginny, auburn hair streaming in the wind, blood seeping from a cut on her cheek, cradling James in her arms calling for Harry. A masked Death Eater approached from behind and unsheathed a knife. Hermione grabbed Thorin's arm and screamed one word, 'GINNY'. In a flash he realised what was happening and began to run over to them. The Death Eater's hand reached out for Ginny, grabbing a fistful of hair he exposed her throat and drew the blade across it. Blood spurted out onto the ground at her feet as he walked away to his next victim. Thorin reached Ginny just as she began to fall. Taking James in his arms he looked for Hermione and saw her a few feet away. Holding Ginny in one arm he passed James to Hermione. Before she realised it, five Death Eaters had surrounded them. Hermione felt a blow to the back of her knees and dropped onto the gravel. James was ripped out of her arms and passed to another Death Eater. Pinned to the ground she was powerless to stop them as they dashed James' head against a stone block and stabbed Thorin in the back repeatedly. She watched, helpless as her only support in this terrible world had the life speared out of him again, and again, and again, and again. She must have been screaming before she passed out because Hermione awoke a few hours later in the hospital wing back at Headquarters with a sore throat and an aching head. The absence of Thorin in her heart and her life ever present, ever fresh, ever painful.

Hermione opened her eyes and shook the memory out of her mind. Thorin could not help her now, he could not advise her, he could not cradle her in his beautiful strong arms, he could not spar with her and he could not smile at her ever again. The sooner she realised that, the better she would be able to complete the task ahead. Unlike Harry, Hermione had buried her grief so deep she sometimes thought she would never be able to reach it when the time came to deal with it, to acknowledge it. Having allowed herself these few moments of weakness, she wiped her tears, slowed her breathing and pushed herself away from the battlement wall; she made her way back to the stairs and went all the way down to the dungeons. Harry was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have brought him up. I know he meant a lot to you," said Harry softly.

"It's ok, I'm fine. I just went up to check our eastern perimeter. Let's just get on with this shall we," she replied quickly.

Harry knew she was lying but decided not to press the issue. He nodded and motioned for the escort to follow them. As they made their way further down through the dungeons to Malfoy's cell Hermione could see Harry visibly steel himself for the meeting to come. He was rolling his shoulders while clenching and unclenching his fists; the tension in his jaw almost tangible. They reached the cell door where Hermione saw Malfoy sitting calmly with his back against the far wall, arms resting on his knees staring straight at them. He made no motions to stand up when they entered and instead smiled at them warmly allowing his eyes to rest on Hermione a moment longer than usual. It stirred something in the pit of her stomach but she ignored it and moved to stand behind Harry's left shoulder. A guard brought two chairs into the room and secured the door behind them.

Harry pulled one of the chairs towards Malfoy and sat down heavily a few feet away. Hermione remained standing and after a few moments of silence decided to break the ice between these two old enemies.

"Malfoy, tell Harry what you told me about your hand."

"I'm sure you've said enough on the matter for the both of us General," replied Malfoy.

"I still think it would be better received coming directly from the source," she insisted.

"Very well, as you command General."

Malfoy began to recount every detail of what he had told Hermione in the Guard Room about his hand, the power it wielded and Higher Magic. Harry listened quietly but attentively while he spoke, raising no questions or objections of any kind. His expression betrayed none of the anger, mistrust, shock or surprise he had voiced upstairs. Hermione was impressed and reminded once again why Harry was such a perfect leader. Emotional and sensitive though he was, it was shown to none save those he trusted most. His armour was steely resolve, determination, unwavering belief in his cause and complete disciplined precision in his thoughts and actions.

When Malfoy was finished, Harry took a few minutes to absorb what he had heard before speaking: "Well Malfoy, that is quite a story. Let me ask you something, if you were in my position what would you do?"

"I don't quite follow," replied Malfoy.

"It's a simple question. If the roles were reversed and I had come to you with claims of changed ways and desires to destroy the Order of the Phoenix what would you say, think and do?"

Malfoy paused for a few moments considering how best to answer. He had not expected this angle and wondered for a moment if it was a trick question.

"If the roles were reversed as you say, it would not be my decision. I am but a small individual in a much larger organisation. I would be expected to follow orders given by the Grand Master or the Dark Lord like the rest of my brothers; your question is therefore invalid," he replied logically.

"Your choice of words is interesting. You speak of your past comrades in the present tense as if you were still a part of them. And you still refer to Voldemort by his title and not his name," said Harry softly. "I'm afraid it doesn't inspire much confidence in your self-proclaimed reformation."

"Old habits die hard," said Malfoy with a shrug of his shoulders. "I have lived and served with the Order since I was seventeen. I have been trained to bend my will and actions to serve Voldemort's desires for eight years. You're asking me to change the manner in which I speak of this service in a matter of months, forgive me if I take a moment to get used to it. My references to them may be present but I can assure you my allegiance is past."

"That, Malfoy, remains to be seen. But for now, you still have not answered my question," pressed Harry.

Malfoy took in the silence that followed for a few more minutes before responding, "If I was in command and you had come to me with the same claims I would have never listened. I would have shown you no quarter and never allowed a lethally powerful man to roam my headquarters for even an instant, imprisoned or otherwise. I would have you fight to the death with my best Knights for sport and if they failed to kill you, I would subdue you myself and have you publically executed. I would then place your head on a spike and return it to your Order showing them how the other side deals with deserters as an example to all other spies who would try the same."

Hermione jolted slightly at his response. Malfoy could tell it was not what she had been expecting. Harry on the other hand, had narrowed his eyes to near slits. He smiled cruelly and spoke in a dangerously soft voice, "Well then Draco, I believe we have our answer." Rising from his chair he glanced at Hermione who, still standing had her mouth half open in semi protest. Silencing the potential words from her mouth with a raised hand, Harry continued, "At dawn tomorrow, you will be taken to the arena. Your weapons will be returned to you and you will face three of my best fighters. If they fail to kill you, I will have you bound and executed in the main courtyard for all to see. I shall then cut off your head and your hand, both of which shall be sent back to the Militis Argentum as a warning. Harry Potter is no fool, and the Order of the Phoenix is not so easily infiltrated as they seem to believe it is."

Malfoy suppressed the smile that threatened to reach his lips. Harry had played right into his hands. Glancing over at Hermione he saw her face and had noted her previous reaction, which was proof enough. But he held his silence not wanting to spoil the surprise that he was sure would come with the rising of the sun. "Very well, I shall see you at dawn then, Potter" was all he said.

Harry nodded and called for the guards to open the cell door. He left without another word, Hermione trailing silently after, still wearing her expression of shock and disgust. As she was about to leave the room, Malfoy noticed her hesitation. Just for a second, a split second, it looked as if she was about to turn and say something to him but instead sighed and left with Harry.

The door shut behind them, Malfoy raised himself off the ground, undressed, readied himself for bed and lay down on the cot. He looked at the ceiling and allowed himself the previously denied smile.

His plan was going better than he had ever expected.