A/N: Yay! Another update! So, although not as much happens in this chapter, I personally think it's a bit better than the last one. Hope you guys agree!

Thanks to Leanora, RoseRedMisery, Gossip Girl Lover 101, Hartwi1, cherryVanillaCoke16, KoolieoPenguinez, and Presence of Aquarius for reviewing! You guys are amazing, I couldn't say it enough!

Chapter 9: Trust Me

For a few, tense seconds, Potter did not move. He simply stood there, his wand half-raised, his mouth stupidly hanging open. And then pieces seemed to fit together in his head, and his wand shot back up. "Who are you?" He demanded, and Hermione seemed to shrink back at his harsh tone.

"It's me, Harry. It's Hermione."

"Hermione's dead."

Hermione set her shoulders back determinedly, staring Harry straight in the face. "My Patronus is an otter, your Patronus is a stag, and Ron's is a Jack Russell terrier." Draco was not sure how or when she had remembered this information, but he wasn't complaining.

For a fraction of a moment, Potter's wand lowered, but then he shook his head, refusing to believe that his best friend had come back from the dead. Draco didn't blame him. "What was the last thing I said to you?!" He shouted, his hand trembling.

For a moment, Hermione said nothing. Did she remember? Then, her head raised a bit, and she whispered, "Stay safe."

The Boy-Who-Lived still could not believe his eyes. After all, this information could always have been tortured out of the real Hermione before she was ruthlessly murdered. "What were we looking for after Hogwarts? That Dumbledore entrusted us to do?"

There was silence. Draco could just see her face from the shadows he stood in behind her, and he could see herself searching for the answer, everything relied on this answer, could she remember? She had to. Potter must've specifically picked this question because he would know if the Dark Lord had found this out, this secret mission entrusted to him by the great Albus Dumbledore.

After a silence that must've been an eternity, Hermione answered him. "Horcruxes."

What the hell were Horcruxes? Sounded like something quite strange to Draco. He had never even heard of them.

The wand clattered to the floor, no longer needed. Potter's green eyes filled with unshed tears, he stared into her face, refusing to believe, Draco could practically read his thoughts; if he believed, would he be punished? Was it a dream? Was this possible? "H-Hermione?" He whispered so low that Draco was surprised he had heard, his voice trembling, looking into the brown eyes of his dead best friend, taking in her appearance, from her horribly chapped lips to her tangled hair caked with dirt, to her scarred face and arms, to her sickeningly skinny arms and legs and body, to her too pale skin…

Hermione laughed shakily, running forward with her arms outstretched, and she leapt into his arms. Harry returned the gesture almost greedily, his eyes now shut, tears steadily pouring from them, soaking his face. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, so tightly his knuckles were turning white, and Hermione was sobbing, and Potter was beaming, he looked truly alive again, and Draco was so very alone.

Just at that moment, Potter's eyes opened and spotted Draco over Hermione's shoulder. Immediately, the wand was back out again, Hermione had been dropped from his arms, and he was yelling, "Get back! What are you doing here?!"

"Harry, stop!" Hermione shouted, placing her body firmly in-between Draco's and Harry's, her arms outstretched, just as Draco had tensed, his hand over his pocket. "He rescued me! You can trust him!"

For a tense moment, Potter continued to point his wand carefully over Hermione's shoulder, his green eyes calculating Draco, and he felt as if they were seeing straight through him, as if he were being X-rayed, so much like when he was face-to-face with Dumbledore…and then the wand was lowering, and Potter's face had lost the anger it had held only a moment ago. "Why?" He asked, a simple question, and yet so very complex.

How could he respond to such a question? It was impossible. He didn't know why. What had brought him to this moment? In the house of the enemy, in the house of Potter, away from everything he had once known. "She…She wasn't Granger anymore." He considered it to be a very lame answer, but Potter seemed to find it suitable, and nodded, returning his attention back to Hermione.

"You tired? Hungry?" He asked like a servant, ready to bend to her every will, his eyes shining with true love and happiness as he watched her, watched her move, watched her breathe, watched her smile. Was this what true friendship was meant to be like? Years ago he had found it disgusting, but now…he was envious.

"Just tired, now." Hermione answered, smiling politely. "Got an extra room?"

"There's a little one upstairs. It's pretty packed in here right now, but it's a decent sized house. Malfoy," Harry jerked his head in Draco's direction, "can take the floor in me and Ron's room, or the couch." Draco scowled. "I'm sure you want to wait to see everyone until the morning. No offense, but you look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Hermione laughed slightly, nodding. "Yeah, I'm really tired. But Harry…" She shuffled her feet nervously, suddenly interested in the floorboards. "Do you mind…I mean…Draco can share the room with me, it's fine. I doubt he wants to share a room with you and Ron. And it might wake Ron up."

A feeling of ha! Take that Potter! surged through Draco, a feeling he had not had since Hogwarts. It felt exhilarating. Potter's entire face had darkened at her words, and he was looking at Draco with thinly veiled suspicion. "Relax, Potter. She's safe with me." Draco drawled, a smirk on his face, feeling like his true self for the first time in a very long time.

"Hermione," said Potter, completely ignoring him, "are you sure? I mean…this is Malfoy we're talking about. He could've been ordered by Voldemort," this earned a shudder out of both Draco and Hermione, "to set you free and then find out where our Headquarters are!"

He could've lowered his voice, Draco thought dryly. Hermione smiled calmly, placing a hand on Harry's arm. "Relax, Harry. If you trust me, trust him. He's proved himself to me, he's saved my life, he's helped me more than you could ever know. The other Death Eaters tried to kill us, and he killed one of them. I've seen Draco… just, please Harry, trust me." Draco was almost sure she was about to say 'completely break down and sob like a baby' but had held it in for his sake. Ah, well.

"You know I trust you, Hermione." Potter whispered, pulling her into another tight embrace. For a long time they stayed that way. Then, ever so gently, Hermione pulled back and lifted herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Potter on the cheek.

"I'm really tired, Harry. Can you show us the room?"

Secretly, Draco was extremely glad she asked. He felt as if he were swaying on his feet, when was the last time he had properly slept? It must have been years ago. Potter nodded, leading them up a set of stairs, all the way to the fourth floor. "You can stay in Regulus' room. No one's much wanted to stay in there because of the decorations, but Lupin and Bill are both squeezed in Sirius' room, and all the others are pretty crammed…" Harry said, swinging open a door to reveal a room decked in the Slytherin colors.

"It's fine, Harry," Hermione said, smiling softly, "go get some rest. You look like you could use it, yourself."

Harry nodded, sweeping Hermione in an up-down glance once more, as if to remember this moment forever, just in case it was a dream. "Goodnight, Hermione." He whispered, and Draco almost groaned as tears bleared the edges of Potter's eyes again. They hugged one last time, and then Potter descended the stairs, without so much as a glance at Draco.

"He'll warm up to you." Hermione grinned, turning her back to Draco and walking into the room.

"Can't wait." Draco mumbled, following her inside. "I don't know what Potter was talking about; I happen to think the decorations in this room are marvelous." Draco smirked as Hermione rolled her eyes at him, crawling into the bed without another word.

For a moment, Draco simply watched her pull the covers up to her chin and sink pleasurably into the bed. How long had it been since she had been in a bed? Years? What horrors had Hermione faced previously? Had the Muggle and Muggle-born camps been even worse than Azkaban? How had she even lived through it?

"You coming, dear?" Hermione said sarcastically, patting the spot next to her without opening her eyes.

Draco laughed, pulling off his muddy shirt and tossing it to the ground, not particularly wanting to sleep in his own filth. He crawled into the bed next to Hermione, and she opened her eyes, raising her eyebrows at him. "Going shirtless tonight, honey?"

"Just trying to give you as much pleasure as possible, dear." Draco replied with a smirk as she slapped him on the chest, rolling over and closing her eyes again. "Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Draco laughed, but the moment he closed his eyes he had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

:::

Hermione dreamt that night.

She dreamed flashes of things that seemed so real; and in the back of her subconscious she registered them to be memories.

Her life had been quite exciting.

She dreamed flashes of trolls, giant chessboards, giant snakes, werewolves, dragons, merpeople, the Order, toad-like teachers, centaurs, giants, Death Eaters, Voldemort, losing love, being saddened, searching for Horcruxes, not finding many, and always, by her side, Ron and Harry, ever present, never leaving, always there for her. But Draco, Draco was there in a much different way – to throw insults at her around every corner, to hate her, why did he hate her so much, no one had ever hated her so much, and she didn't know what she had done, but that feeling of loss soon disappeared and was replaced by hate, she had never hated someone so much, he only threw insults at her, ugly, bitch, Mudblood, she had never even done anything to him…

And that night, that horrible night, she was home, laughing with her mother and father, oh how she loved them so much, they were so perfect, and the Death Eaters had broken open the door, but how had they gotten through the enchantments? But it didn't matter, they were there, oh where was her wand, she needed her wand, her wand! But it didn't matter, she was too late, much too late, there were the thud of two bodies, Mom! Dad! They lay on the floor, eyes glassy, so still, they couldn't be dead, no! But they didn't move, they didn't get up, they were gone, truly and irreversibly gone, life cruelly taken from them, it wasn't fair! And the Death Eaters were laughing, and she was attacking them, screaming mentally, and one of them simply flicked his wand, and then so much pain was coursing through her body, so much pain, oh make it end, make it stop, Mom, Dad, make it go away…

Hermione woke crying. Her first instinct was to scream, for she swore there were Death Eaters lurking in the shadows of her cell…

But there weren't Death Eaters, she wasn't in her cell, she was in the safety of Grimmauld Place. Hermione picked up her pillow and hugged it to her body, pressing her face tightly into it and letting out a sob. Her parents truly were gone. How could she have been stupid enough to forget? She felt as if she had betrayed their memory. Mom, Dad, forgive me…Oh, she loved them so much, it was her fault they were dead, all her fault…

She would fix it. She would avenge them. She would put an end to this war, this death, and she would lose no one else she loved. No one.

And then there was Draco. She had forgotten how cruel he had been to her. Why had he hated her so much? She glanced at his still form, sleeping peacefully next to her. His too blonde hair fell peacefully in his face, and she pictured the boy who had tormented her in her younger days. This…this was not him. This was a different man. She could see that just from staring at him. He was…hardened, somehow, by the war. The youthful ignorance in his face was completely gone, replaced by something much deeper. The war had changed them both in ways that couldn't be reversed. She trusted Draco Malfoy. He had saved her in more ways than one.

What had changed him? What had made him feel the need to save her, the Mudblood, the person he had so truly despised? Had he gotten in too far? She remembered, so easily it was as if the thought had never truly left her mind, having an odd mix of pride and sadness for him when he had not killed Dumbledore, but been taken by the Death Eaters.

Oh how she wished she could see into his head! What did he think when he saw her? What did he feel that he did not feel years ago? What had happened to him to change him so drastically? This was not Draco Malfoy.

And she was truly euphoric at this fact. Because this, this Draco Malfoy she cared about, in a way much different than Ron and Harry, although she couldn't explain it. She knew it would be difficult for Harry and Ron to even begin to trust him, but they would do it for her, they would do anything for her.

Would Draco? He had killed for her, risked everything for her, he could've died for her. What an odd thought. Draco Malfoy would do anything for her. Her, the Muggle-born.

The world sure did have an odd way of turning things about on its head until enemies became friends, until hate turned into a love far deeper than any kind of love a husband and wife felt for one another.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it! While you (hopefully) wait for the next update, you guys should go read the Dramione fanfiction: A World Apart by lolagirl. Oh my God, it's so freakin' good! I started reading it and couldn't stop. It's also kind of angsty if you like that kind of stuff, which I do. I'm weird like that :)