Good Morning Lovelies!

Firstly, thanks very much for all the love & reviews. Super appreciated :)

Secondly, I'm starting a new gig next week and my time is going to be extremely limited. I'm hoping to finish this story before then. Could use a little liquid luck right about now…

Cheers,

M.x

Hermione listened to the lull of conversation as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

She was vaguely aware of Harry filling the rest of them in, about the events that had led up to last night. She could hear that his voice was quite strained, she wondered if that had anything to do with Malfoy's presence.

After about an hour, they all fell silent and had drifted off into their own forms of sleep. Hermione's last thought before she dropped off into the darkness, was that she hoped they would find a few moments of peace, for she knew once everyone was fully awake, things would certainly get messy.

Draco was jerked from his slumber by the sound of Ron Weasley bellowing in fury.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco's eyes snapped open and he was once again met with the fiery glare of the Weasel.

He smirked, the idiot was certainly in no condition to fight him. Draco relaxed back into the chair he had been dozing in as he felt a sneer lift onto his face.

"We've come to rescue your pathetic arse. What's the matter Weasley, still can't figure out how to use your wand?" He hissed with glee. Ron started to lift himself off the cot.

"Stop." Draco's eyes snapped to the corner of the room.

Hermione was laying there, watching them with angry eyes. They both fell silent as Harry Potter came through the tent opening. He went straight to Hermione, handing her a note.

She sat up quickly as Potter dropped down next to her on the makeshift sofa.

Draco eyes narrowed as Potter moved closer to her, leaning against her body as he stared at her with a pleased expression.

Malfoy couldn't explain why it made him so furious, other than the fact that them sitting there together looked so natural. They were completely at easy with one another. Hermione glanced up quickly, as though she had felt his eyes boring into her.

"It's from Snape." She offered, before turning to Harry. "He wants us to stay here. He said he's leaving Headquarters and he's not sure when he'll return…" She frowned. "Where do you suppose he's headed?"

Harry shook his head. "Who knows?"

"What do you mean us, stay here?" Ron snarled. Hermione's eyes snapped to him.

"Good Morning, Ronald. Lovely to see you too. Hope you're feeling better, I was only up half the night stitching you back together." She hissed in fury. Draco felt a smirk pulling at his lips. Weasley turned red and muttered something that sounded like, 'Thanks, 'Mione.'

She nodded curtly, then turned her attention back to Potter.

"Do you have enough room and supplies for four more people?" She asked hesitantly.

"Four? Four more people? Who the hell is here?" Ron asked with shock.

"Luna and Blaise." Harry confirmed.

Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"It's not an issue." Draco snapped. "We brought our own tents and provisions. Lovegood and Blaise are setting up on the other side of the hill. Trust me, I wouldn't move into this hovel if you paid me." He finished, with an arrogant inspection of the musty tent.

"That's rich, considering you don't even have two knuts to rub together." Ron replied with spite.

"Yeah Weasley, I can't believe you've had to endure this sort of poverty for your entire existence."

"Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, turning her furious gaze to him. He glared at her nastily.

"We have enough to worry about at the moment without this pettiness." Harry declared with annoying confidence. What a righteous little prick, Malfoy thought savagely.

"Exactly." Hermione smiled at him with a nod. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. Draco closed his eyes against the urge to rip Scar Head limb from limb.

"Is there anything to drink?" Draco muttered, rubbing his fingers against his forehead with agitation. Ron scoffed at him as he laid back down and gave them his back.

"Wake me up when the Death Eater is gone." Was his cold reply. Hermione's gaze narrowed at him, but she stayed silent.

Potter got to his feet and stalked out of the room.

Draco stared at Granger as they waited. She was looking at him, pleading silently with her eyes, for him to keep his cool. And he would, as soon as Potter learned to keep his hands to himself and Weasel rotted in hell.

Harry strode back into the room, slamming a bottle of firewhiskey down on the table next to him.

"Shot for shot, Malfoy?" He challenged, pulling up a chair.

"You're on." Draco hissed with delight. Hermione stood up suddenly, watching the start of an extremely bad situation unfolding.

"I don't think this is a good-" They both turned and looked at her. "Idea." She finished, crossing her arms in front of her.

"I think it's exactly what's needed." Draco snapped, his hateful glare melding with Potter's.

"Yes." Harry agreed, a dark look entering his eyes. "It sure is."

Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics.

"We have work to do! Plans to make." She insisted.

"It's Christmas." Draco snarled, popping open the bottle of spirits.

"Hermione, Malfoy and I aren't going to be able to work together until we get this conversation out of the way." Harry insisted. Draco raised his eyebrow in surprise. He thought they were just going to get pissed and beat the shit out of one another to release some tension.

"How sweet, Potter. You want to get to know me." He taunted.

"I don't trust you, Malfoy. You've proved nothing to me." Harry explained with a light airiness to his tone, that Draco found immensely nerve grating.

"I don't have to prove anything to you, Potter." He growled. Ron laughed from his resting place.

"I think you'll find, that you do." Potter whispered, his eyes falling to Hermione once again, who was watching them nervously. Draco felt his jaw clench. What was he saying? Granger was off limits until Potter approved of him? Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

"Hermione, can you please go see if Blaise and Luna need anything?" Harry asked politely, as he filled the two glasses in front of him. Her expression turned to one of immense annoyance. "Ron, you want a pop?" Harry called to his friend, raising the bottle. Ron turned over with a grin on his face.

"Absolutely not! No, Harry, I'm serious. He's lost an extremely large amount of blood and I don't think-" Oh, she was riled now. Malfoy felt himself grow hard with desire.

"It's for the pain 'Mione! I'm in so much pain!" Ron clenched at his wounds with a dramatic grimace on his face.

"Fine. You just go ahead and get smashed. I'm deeply disappointed in all of you. Don't ask for my help again." She snapped, grabbing her coat and wand as she ripped open the tent flap and stormed out into the snowy afternoon.

All three of them watched her go, it was silent for several moments. Harry turned slowly back to Malfoy, sizing him up. Draco stared back, ready for anything Potter threw at him. Ron interrupted their staring contest.

"About that pop…" Harry grabbed another glass and handed it to his best friend, whispering something that sounded like 'let me handle this'. Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance, as Potter returned to the table. He lifted his glass and Draco repeated the gesture.

And that was how it began.

The first half hour was rough. It was mostly stony silences and Potter throwing barbs and questions at Malfoy, trying to find out how much darkness was still inside him.

"Why did you change sides?"

"Why are you so irritating?"

"Why should we trust you now?"

"Do you have another choice?"

And on it went. Draco was beginning to feel the whiskey take hold of his brain. He glanced at Weasley, who was now sitting up, very much enjoying his drink and a show. Potter had removed his glasses and was rubbing his palms into his eyes.

"Malfoy. Will you just answer one bloody question without another question?" He muttered with extreme exasperation.

"Why should I?" He shot back.

"I'm not doing this for my own amusement." Harry was coming close to losing his temper.

"You aren't?" Draco raised a smug eyebrow, this was just too much fun.

"You're impossible Malfoy." Harry announced, a look of disgust falling onto his face. Weasel chimed in once again with a 'Told you Harry, he's a Malfoy, he can't change.' Something about the arrogant look on Weasley's face pushed Draco right over the edge. Fuck this.

"Why? Because I won't answer all of your ridiculous questions? Do you honestly think that Dumbledore didn't ask me every single thing you have thought of and more? Do you honestly believe I would spend my time being here with you, if I wasn't serious about it?" He snapped, reaching for the bottle once more. Ron was looking mightily impressed.

"Hell, Harry. That was a lot of good bloody questions." He cheers-ed to Malfoy and took a long swig. Potter however, was not impressed.

"How is it…that the one person you hated, possibly more than myself, was able to change your mind?" Harry asked slowly. Draco tried not to let his expression slip from the one of annoyed boredom he was currently sporting. He took another shot. Potter followed him.

"Yeah, I'm curious." Ron commented, his glare hardening. "How did she do it?"

Draco took a deep breath. Willing himself to stay silent. Part of him wanted to run them into the ground with exactly how she had done it. He wanted to give them every detail of just how much Hermione Granger had changed his fucking life. But some part of him knew, that it would absolutely break her trust in him if he went spouting off about their relationship. Relationship? Fuck, he was so screwed.

But still, it was her duty to tell her friends about him. She was going to tell them, right? He after all, had only Blaise to confide in.

"She followed me and annoyed me and lectured me until I would have willing given myself up to the Death Eaters to make her stop." Draco replied, trying to look as unaffected as possible.

"You mean your family?" Ron snarled. Draco ignored him as best he could as he finished what he thought was his sixth glass of booze.

"That sounds like Hermione." Harry mused, a strange look coming into his eyes.

"Yes, it was intolerable." Draco muttered, refilling his glass.

"And you just…what? Saw the light?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Not at first, no. But I was desperate. I hardly expect you to understand." His pompous tone was filled with underlying resentment.

"Try me." Potter insisted.

Alright, he would start at the beginning.

"After you had Lucius thrown into Azkaban, the Dark Lord moved into my family's home. He insisted the only way to avenge my father, was to kill Dumbledore. He told me if I didn't, he'd give my mother to the werewolf. All last year, while I was stuck at school...my mother remained a prisoner in her own house. She was raped and tortured and used as bait to ensure my success." He whispered violently, feeling his body begin to shake with an uncontrollable need to snap. He had left those gruesome details out when explaining his situation to Hermione. "I was branded. Stuck." He hissed, pulling back his sleeve to show them The Dark Mark. It was angrier and uglier than ever.

"I was about to lose my mother, myself, everything. And Granger…" He paused, thinking back to those nights when he had pushed her away, and yet she had endured. "She convinced me that I was better...more. More than The Dark Lord. More than my father." He whispered harshly, dropping his gaze to his once again, empty glass. His head was beginning to spin.

"That's 'Mione." Ron slurred thoughtfully. "Completely flipping delusional." He muttered.

Draco was on his feet in a second, ready to put his fist through Weasel's freckled face. Potter's next words were the only thing that stopped him.

"I believe you."

Draco stared at him suspiciously, and Potter just looked back at him politely. He dropped into his seat.

"You do?" He and Ron stated at the same time.

"I just needed honesty. How do you think relationships are formed, Malfoy?"

"Fuck if I know." He watched as Potter poured another drink.

"So what now?" Ron demanded. "I have to be nice to him?"

Potter turned his gaze to his best friend. "Let's try cordial. Seems like he actually has some remorse in him after all." Draco wanted to gag.

"Still here. And please, don't be nice. It might make me ill." He sneered with disgust.

Ron snorted with drunken laughter.

"Deal."

Potter smiled slightly and then looked back to Malfoy.

"And how are things now?" He asked suddenly.

Draco raised an eyebrow with cold distaste.

"Now?" He drawled. "Peachy."

"I mean at Headquarters." Harry frowned at him.

"I won't forget my stay anytime soon." He half laughed to himself.

"Meaning?" Harry pressed, his eyes growing darker.

"It was an experience." Draco waved his hand, as if the details were inconsequential. Though his mind flashed with the image of his face buried between Granger's thighs...he licked his lips unconsciously.

"Luna and Zabini, huh?" Ron called from the corner.

"Yup." He answered curtly, his face a mask of stone. Harry continued to stare at him, searching for something. Ron cleared his throat in annoyance.

"I always said she was insane."

"I'll agree with you there, Weasley."

"And Hermione? How has she been?" Potter just couldn't let up with his irritating questions.

"A bloody basket case, running around like a chicken with her head cut off." Draco snapped.

Potter and Weasel exchanged a knowing grin.

"But she's happy?" Harry was looking anxious. Draco rolled his eyes.

"How would I know?"

"Does she talk about us?" Ron asked, hopefully. Draco hissed in his direction.

"Please, do a look like a gossiping old woman?" He spat.

"We missed her birthday this year." Harry muttered with gloom. Weasley frowned in confusion.

"When was it again?"

"September 19th." Draco replied, without thinking.

Both Harry and Ron turned to stare at him. Weasley was looking quite shocked, but Potter was now watching him with extreme wariness.

"How do you know that?" He snapped. Draco went blank, as he reached for the now nearly empty bottle.

"Lucky guess." He insisted, furious at himself for speaking without thinking.

The Golden Duo watched him with growing mistrust. Their eyes speaking volumes about what they would do to him if they found out just how lucky he had been.

He knew they were protective over her, but there was something else underneath it. More than just a friendly or brotherly concern. The thought of having to go through not just Weasley, but Potter as well, to keep Hermione for himself, made him suddenly sick. He felt the room spin as he closed his eyes and sat back, breathing deeply.

Harry was frowning as he continued to stare at Malfoy. He opened his mouth to ask him exactly how close they had become, when he heard a shout from outside. He and Draco exchanged a look before jumping to their feet and running to meet the sound.

The sight that greeted them was not what they were expecting at all.

Blaise, Luna and Granger were all standing in a line, watching silently, as a group of Snatchers marched past, carrying torches and all sorts of homemade weapons.

They were hauling what looked like several bodies wrapped in pieces of canvas; singing merrily and laughing as if having the time of their lives. It was unnerving to stand there, unseen but so close to the enemy.

Draco could not even picture Hermione's face, but he saw her back was rigid. She was holding Luna's hand tightly, her other hand clenching her wand, ready to spring into action. He held his breath as he watched them pass. He could hear Potter breathing harshly on the other side of him.

One of the Snatchers drunkenly stumbled, losing his grip on the bag he was carrying.

The corpse of Ted Tonks hit the snow with a soft thud.

The Snatchers began fighting amongst themselves, screaming and shoving each other about whose fault it had been, all while Ted Tonks' cold, lifeless eyes stared up at them.

Hermione collapsed to her knees in the snow, burying her head in her hands as she silently sobbed. Potter was already running to her side.

Draco's vision blurred and he took deep breaths, trying to control the panic overtaking him.

His Uncle. His Muggleborn Uncle was lying there dead.

Murdered, all because of his blood...which was running down from his head slowly and staining the new fallen snow.

It was the exact same shade as his.

Draco couldn't take it, he turned and violently threw up.