Draco's presence disrupted everyone. He apparated into the foyer of Malfoy Manor with Theo's dead body slung over his shoulder and laid him gently on the ground. When he looked up he found Voldemort's cold, angry eyes on him, and Draco immediately dropped to one knee with his head bowed.

"My apologies, my lord. I saw that Theo was missing and I went back for him. I didn't want to risk the chance that he was alive, hurt, and unable to apparate. Clearly he was hurt more than I thought he would be."

Voldemort huffed. "Well, seeing as he is dead, then young Nott is worthless to me. Amycus, Lucius, throw the boy's body into the fire."

Draco flinched. He didn't dare move or dare a glance as his father and Fiona's uncle hefted Theo's body to the roaring fire not too far from him. He thought of Theo's own father. The man was often travelling, doing deeds for Voldemort that only a select few (not him) knew of. He wondered what Nott Senior would think when he found out that his son was dead and his body burned to ash.

"Rise, Draco."

He did.

"However late you are at this moment, your timing is still most opportune." Voldemort said as he gestured to Rodolphus. For the first time Draco noticed him and the man was barely able to stand on his feet. "Your uncle claims that the failures accumulated today are your fault. He said that you led him down an incorrect path of inquiry. And while he was punished for not using his own common sense, a failure sometimes does have many hands. Don't you agree?"

Draco nodded. "I do. Although I hope you forgive my brashness in me saying this, but my uncle would say such things about me to save his own skin."

The corner of Voldemort's sort-of mouth curled downward into a bit of a cruel grimace. "Oh?"

"Yes, my lord. I do admit that I followed my own initiative in order to carry out the tasks that my uncle gave to me. For example, I had Gavin the shoppe keeper followed because I didn't trust him. Fiona, who I had given the task to, I had been watching myself and her methods had been...somewhat sloppy. He could have easily been aware of her presence and fed us false information on purpose, or, as what has recently transpired, set up a trap. For that reason I expressly told my uncle not to believe what the man had to say. And then he chose not to listen to me."

Rodolphus' eyes bulged and he looked like he wanted to kill his nephew right then and there. "You little-!"

"Is that true, Rodolphus?" Voldemort asked calmly, although his tone also held something a bit more sinister. His follower turned, fright evident on his face.

"Well, I… I…"

Voldemort raised his wand. "Legilimens!"

Draco, as well as everyone, in the room watched as their leader roamed through Rodolphus' mind. The blond tried his best not to smile triumphantly because he knew what Voldemort would find. And when he was done the Dark Lord was angrier than anyone had ever seen him and Rodolphus was Crucioed off and on for a full ten minutes with only seconds in between each casting of the curse.

"Four of my Deatheaters are dead!" He yelled as he tortured the man. "My puppet is gone! And we have nothing to show for it!"

Voldemort finally stopped with the Cruciatus when Rodolphus' screams ended. He then turned his eyes on Draco who was still standing in the middle of the middle of the foyer. "If you had such doubts about your uncle's leadership, why were you silent?"

"For the simple reason that he's among your most trusted." Draco answered humbly. "For me to question his judgement would be as though I were questioning your judgement. It wasn't my place."

It was quiet for a moment. It seemed as though everyone was waiting to see how this played out. Hell, even Draco was waiting with an increased anticipation. And then Voldemort opened his mouth, letting his eyes roam for a moment to the unconscious man on the ground before him.

"He was among my most trusted." Voldemort kicked at him some before addressing Draco again. "Your post at Edinburgh Castle is restored. I also have a new task for you."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Young Zabini tells me that the mudblood, Hermione Granger, is still alive."

Draco stiffened. "It appears that she is."

"Find her." Voldemort ordered. "So I've been told, she will be too weak to travel. You will organize a search for her in London, but of course, don't neglect anywhere else she may have gone. She is, somewhat fortunately, a smart witch." Here he smiled. "She will replace my puppet."

Draco had never liked it when Voldemort smiled. Whenever he was satisfied about something, it usually meant that he had something up his sleeve. But what was it? What was it about Hermione being a smart witch that would make him happy at the thought of having her at Malfoy Manor?

He would have to think about that later. Voldemort had dismissed everyone with an angry flourish and finally Draco was free to leave. He noted with dismay that every person his age was heading back to Edinburgh Castle. At least with Pansy still incapacitated and others…gone, it was a smaller number than the norm.

"Draco,"

Draco paused briefly, but only to shake his head at his father who had stopped him. "Not now. I'll write. Maybe if I'm in a better mood I'll pass by."

With that he left only to find both Blaise and Goyle waiting for him. He met both men with brief nods before walking through the castle's halls.

"I can't believe Theo's dead." Goyle said. Neither could Draco, and he had been the one to walk in and see it happening.

"I'm getting drunk." Blaise announced, his face hard and solemn. "I already told the others. Coming, Draco?"

The blond shook his head. "All I want to do is sleep."

"Fair enough." He agreed, then he cocked his head some and smiled grimly. "See you at the head of the table."

Draco inclined his own head at the gratitude and split ways down separate corridors. The one that he went down would lead him towards his suite, but he had to see Fiona first. She was still Imperiused and he had to break her out of it. By the time he'd made it to her bedroom, however, he was more than surprised to find Fiona in bed and tucked in, although not of her own accord.

Adrian looked up at the bedroom's door and snarled when he saw who was coming through. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Pucey." Draco said as he closed the door. "In fact I will. What are you-?"

Adrian pulled his wand out and aimed it straight at Draco. "Don't come any closer. Fiona was Imperiused, and everyone knows you're the one with the most experience using that curse."

Draco stared past the wand and to the witch sleeping peacefully on the bed before looking at Adrian again. "She was Imperiused? As in she's not anymore?"

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Adrian spat at him. "Disappointed?"

"Relieved is more like it."

"Relieved? Ha! Give me one good reason why I should believe that?"

Draco sighed, a sag filling his shoulders. "That's a conversation for another day, Pucey."

"Oh no," Adrian said as he stood, his wand still firmly grasped in his hand. "I think right now is the perfect time for this conversation."

"You'd better stand down." Draco glared at him. "You see, I've had quite the long day. One of my best friends is dead, and I'm tired. I'm not one-hundred percent right now, and an unstable Slytherin is never a good thing. Come at me if you want, but do me a favor and bitch at me tomorrow."

Draco left the room before Adrian could say anything. Under normal circumstances he would've dragged the man out with him, but he had a niggling feeling that Fiona was in safe hands.

Hermione woke up with a groan. She could tell by the overall darkness in the room that the sun had yet to rise, but there was an artificial light that forced her to open her eyes. That and someone's hands on her stomach.

Suddenly calling to mind her deadly encounter with Theo, Hermione attempted to sit up in bed, hands ready to do any and all damage necessary to the person and their probing. Draco's hand shot out to her shoulder and he eased her back down. His hand rejoined the other in its steady work of re-bandaging her stomach.

"No one's hurting you, Granger." He said, although he lifted his eyes up briefly with an inquisitive look. "Is it hurting?"

"A bit," Hermione admitted. "I think the numbing side-effect of the Sleeping Draught Polly gave me is keeping the pain at bay."

Draco nodded, more so to himself than to her as he set himself back to the bandages. "I'll have him fetch more of the Pain Potion."

"…H-how bad was it?"

"Deep, but the Blood Replenishing Potion kept you from dying. As for the wound itself, magic can only do so much, so you'll need to rest and-"

"No, not me." She interrupted. "I meant the fight."

"Oh," Draco thought for a moment and eventually sighed. "Hard to say seeing as the battle was widespread. But from what I saw? I'd say my side was far worse than yours."

Hermione frowned. "Malfoy, about Theo-"

"I don't want to talk about Theo."

Well, that shut down quickly… She thought to herself. And so she kept quiet. She merely kept her gaze on Draco's hands as he finished off with her bandages. She caught sight of her old ones in a trash can next to the bed and she grimaced. They were bloody, but she assumed they could be worse.

"Do you have Healer training, Malfoy?"

"This isn't going to be a repeat of the night when I healed your hip while drunk, is it?"

Hermione stared at him suspiciously. "Are you drunk?"

"No."

"Then no. It's just…well, you have precision. I never really thought about it before until I remembered how you cared for my ankle."

Draco shrugged, having now finally finished redressing Hermione's wound and exhaled tiredly. "The war's been going on for a long time, Granger. You learn a few things along the way."

Hermione nodded. "Seems so. Can I have more of that Pain Potion now?"

"Sleeping Draught would be best." Draco contradicted as he reached for said potion. "You need your rest."

"I've slept enough."

"You've slept less than you think."

Hermione fixed her mouth in a scowl as she crossed her arms. "Malfoy, I said that I don't want to sleep."

"And I said that you have to." Draco scowled back as he picked up the potion bottle. "Now stop acting like a bloody five-year-old."

"No!"

Hermione twisted her head to one side, one arm flailing, and Draco nearly dropped the potion. Luckily with a bit of juggling (and without spilling a drop) he was able to save it and then looked back to the witch with the most bewildered expression.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Granger?!"

"I already told you! I. Don't want. To sleep." Hermione pressed herself back into the pillows behind her head and swallowed. "I woke up exhausted while you were gone and I refused to drink anymore when Polly offered it to me. I'll keep refusing you too, so I suggest you put it away."

Draco did, but only after studying the bags under her eyes and the fact that she had broken out in a sweat in seconds. He could relate. When Giselle had been killed he wasn't able to sleep either –potion or no.

"You're having nightmares, aren't you?"

Hermione, whose gaze had been at her arms, looked up at him. "No. They're…flashbacks of the fight. More specifically they're…they're of Ron."

Draco hesitated. "Oh?"

She nodded. "I saw him during the fight, and it scared me. I saw him with Angelina, and it frightened me because I've never seen him interact with anyone before." Water started to build in her eyes, but she hastily wiped at them. "I'm getting worse."

"You're no crazier than I am, Granger." Draco tried to soothe as he patted her gently on the arm. "You're not getting worse. I'll get you that Pain Potion."

Hermione gave him a quick half-smile because, of course, she didn't believe him. She knew what she saw. She knew how real it felt. And she knew her mind was deteriorating faster than she could've imagined. With a sigh she took a healthy sip of the Pain Potion that Draco offered her and let him put it back on the night table. She watched as the blond stretched and then headed over to the chaise where he had apparently slept.

She frowned. She watched him as he tried to get comfortable while still wearing bloody robes. Blood that was hers.

"Malfoy,"

"You know, I'm starting to feel like your personal house elf."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just one more request."

Draco, who had already lain down, swung his feet off of the chaise and raised an inquisitive brow. "Yes?"

"Come lie in bed."

Draco nearly slid off the chaise.

"What?"

"Come lie in bed." Hermione repeated as she swiped a hand over to other side of the enormous mattress. "You're tired and the proper rest you need won't come from laying on a chaise. Trust me, I know."

Draco continued to sit where he was. Hermione didn't say anything else; she merely closed her eyes. Considering how adamant she had been about not going to sleep, he knew that she hadn't succumbed to it so easily.

"Or you can stay where you are." She said without looking at him, a casual shrug accompanying her words. "It's your room."

Draco felt a sneer wanting to spread across his features. Perhaps she hadn't meant it, but he couldn't help but hear a smug undertone in what she said. Yes, it was his room. So what if she was badly injured? The fact remained that she had commandeered it. He suddenly felt the need to completely disregard what she had said and stay right where he was. Unfortunately, upon his return from Malfoy Manor he had had a disrupted sleep. He woke to check on Hermione continuously which, needless to say, left him with his share of bags under his eyes.

Before he could change his mind Draco rose from the chaise, cleaned up the blood from his clothes, and made his way over to his bed. He stood beside it for countless minutes before he forced himself to climb in. Now that he was in the same bed with her (with the space of at least two people between them) his comfort levels were at an all-time low. He felt utterly ridiculous because of it seeing as how she had been at the mercy of his…probing exactly twelve days ago. But despite it all, he knew why it made him feel uncomfortable.

Draco Malfoy didn't do "close." While growing up his father had never been one to show affection in the conventional sense. No hugs. Shallow words of encouragement. Nods of the head in approval. Perhaps to his wife he had shown more –not that Draco had ever seen. His mother, although stiff in her ways at times, showed her love for her son in a way that he felt. Granted he couldn't see himself going up to his mother and wrapping his arms around her in the hugs he sometimes longed for, but he did allow her to hold his hand. That, he considered, to be a major accomplishment.

When it came to friends, Draco couldn't help but think about Theo. He had meant what he said to Adrian about Theo being his best friend. It only occurred to him once he had made it back to his bedroom that he had never once told Theo that to his face. Did he even know how highly he had ranked on his list of people that he liked? The list wasn't very big, but still, it mattered. Blaise was on there too. Pansy, although a constant pain in his side, was also there. And Goyle. Fiona had never been on it but she had certainly skyrocketed to the top as of late. And they would never know. None of them, because he would never be able to bring himself to say something.

Of course, Giselle had managed to accomplish more. So much more. After years upon years of lust-filled nights with various witches –some he'd been friends with for years, others he'd met for just one night –his favorite prisoner had managed to break through his walls. Cell bars had limited what they could do with one another, but the fact that he had felt such strong emotions towards the witch and hadn't even engaged in any of his sexual fantasies with her had let him know that she was special. That love was real.

And then she was dead.

It had been eight months now since that horrible day and Draco had promised himself that he would never get close to anyone ever again. At the very least not until the war was over –a time where life would be much less fragile than it was now.

But the brunette who was sleeping soundly in the bed with him was threatening to make him break his promise. He stood by his comments to Giselle (imaginary or not) that he didn't like Hermione. But he did care about her. He cared about whether she lived or died. He cared about her as a person. And he cared about what she thought of him. It terrified him to the core that his care could lead to something more. That's how it had started with Giselle. He had taken pity on the young, muggleborn witch and his pity had spiraled out of control. As he had admitted to himself once before, both she and Hermione could easily pass for one another. Would it be fair then, if it ever came to that point, for him to indulge in whatever surge of feelings overcame him?

Draco snorted silently. It was a bit late to be asking himself that question, wasn't it?

And so he would build his barriers. He wouldn't get too close. It would break him if he did.

Despite the large bed Draco usually only slept on the right side –the side where his knives were. Well, knife. He had decided to keep the other knife that had been plunged into his best friend's stomach on the side where Hermione would be sleeping. It made him laugh to himself having found out that the witch had moved it when she had first been there.

Such a clever little thing.

It was all he could think really. But now that he was awake he was thinking of something completely different. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how he had made his way to the middle of the bed when he normally stayed in one spot. He also couldn't figure out why, in Merlin's name, he was holding Hermione's hand. Not her wrist. Not her elbow. Her hand.

Draco cursed his subconscious and slipped his hand free. After realizing that he had just over an hour before breakfast, he got out of bed to shower and to get ready for the day. By the time he came out he found the witch he'd left sleeping wide awake and telling Polly what she wanted for breakfast. The house elf smiled at her and complied, disapparating just as Draco neared his dresser.

"He likes you." He said as he fished out a shirt. Hermione didn't look at him. The last thing she needed was to come face to face with a half-naked man and that man being Draco.

"How can you tell? He's a house elf, and unfortunately," she added in a sour tone. "They're prone to cordial behaviors."

"They are, but he never smiles at me that much."

"Understandable. I'm much more likable than you."

Draco snorted. He smiled too, but luckily he wasn't facing her direction so she couldn't see it. He only turned to her when he had finished dressed and gave her his best disgruntled look. "Funny, Granger. Really funny. You know what else is funny?" Here he finally let his smile shine through as he clapped his hands together. "Ground rules,"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ah yes, of course. What's the matter, Malfoy? Don't trust me?"

"You? Yes. Your insatiable curiosity? Not so much. So, the wards are still in place, albeit altered a little."

"Altered?"

Draco nodded. "I used to manually undo the charms when coming in or letting someone enter after midnight. Now the door just opens to my touch. Fiona's too. And yours," he added with a regrettable uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. "Just in case you somehow find yourself outside of this room and need to get back in here quickly."

Hermione was impressed, but she also had her questions. Yes, her curiosity was quite insatiable. "How did you manage to do that? You'd need a bit of the person who you were granting access to and-"

"Well, I already had enough of your blood." Draco said a bit morbidly. "As for Fiona, a simple prick of her finger while she slept and she was none-the-wiser."

Hermione huffed. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Draco shrugged. "Enough. Now, back to the rules. Just because you can get out of this room at will doesn't mean that you should. So, don't."

"Exactly where am I supposed to go?" She asked, gesturing to her stomach.

"You're not going to be in that bed forever, you know. Now, just as last time, touch nothing. Unlike the last time, however, you'll have a wand."

"A wand? But I lost mine in the fight."

"You did." He agreed, but then he motioned to the night table. "But so did Theo."

Hermione looked over at the nightstand and, indeed, Theo's wand was right where he had set it down before proceeding in his attempt to rape and then kill her.

"And finally…neither one of us calls the other crazy."

Hermione snapped her eyes to Draco's quickly. The contact was broken almost immediately as he stared down at his feet.

"We both know what the other has been through." Draco continued. "And it wouldn't be right to tease each other with our respective…burdens. Deal?"

She nodded quickly. "Deal."

"Good."

They both smiled at each other before Draco finally decided that his comfort levels were dropping again. He told her that he would be back later on that night, possibly earlier, and with that he left the bedroom with the intention of lazily making the trek down to breakfast. However, that apparently wasn't in the cards. Just outside of his bedroom stood Adrian, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

Draco groaned. "You're starting to be a real pain in the arse. You know that?"

Adrian shrugged. "You said to bitch at you tomorrow. It's tomorrow."

A blond brow rose of its own accord. Well, he did say that, didn't he? Draco chuckled some and then conceded.

"Alright, Pucey, let's get this train wreck over with. Can we do this on the way to breakfast?"

"We probably shouldn't."

Instead of arguing Draco took him to the nearest tea room and they both entered it. Neither sat down, and Adrian immediately came out with it as soon as the door was closed.

"I don't trust you, Malfoy." He said firmly. "You're an evil little snake and you're much too close to Fiona these days for comfort. So, what is it with you?"

"Why do you care?" Draco questioned him. "You've been avoiding her like the plague for years and all of a sudden you care about what I might be doing to her?"

"You've never been so keen on her before, so it didn't matter then."

"And it sure as hell shouldn't matter now. So, I repeat, why do you care all of a sudden?"

"It's not all of a sudden!" Adrian shouted exasperatedly. "She used to be my friend! Still is whether she wants knows it or not! We were all friends." He added softly with a droop in his shoulders. "Me, Fiona, and her boyfriend, Andrew. With Fiona's parents being who they were, we knew the war was coming long before anyone else. The night Dumbledore died Andrew came up to me. He made me promise to take care of her if something ever happened to him. To...watch out for her. I've been doing so ever since he died. That meant becoming a Deatheater even though I could've very well avoided it."

Draco blinked. Now that he wasn't expecting. "Merlin... How come you've never told her? She thinks you're a bloody lost cause!"

Adrian frowned bitterly. "I know. And she needs to continue to think that for as long as either of us lives."

Draco furrowed his brow. "But-?"

"No, Malfoy." Adrian said sternly. "I..." He swallowed, his hands visibly shaking. "I can't afford to get too close."

And then it hit him. The realization hit Draco harder than a stampede of hippogriffs. "Well, I'll be damned." He said as a slow smile spread across his face. "You're in love with your best mate's girl."

"Piss off, Malfoy." Adrian spat furiously at him. "You know nothing about me or what I've been through since after, during, or before the war."

"Likewise, Pucey." Draco said calmly, his smile still in place. "But even the biggest idiot of idiots can see that you feel something quite deeply for our lovely Miss Carrow."

Adrian was snarling by now but Draco didn't back down.

"Yes," Adrian admitted in a growl. "And that same fictional idiot can see that she likes you."

Draco laughed. "That's some idiot then. Pucey, Fiona would rather cut off her leg before doing anything promiscuous with me. It actually hit a sore spot when she told me so in...a few more words than that."

Adrian's face instantly relaxed. "Really?"

Draco nodded.

"But...you two always patrol together. And you're always huddled by yourselves, talking in low tones. And...bleeding hell, she goes to your room!"

Draco was impressed with his observations while horribly appalled at himself for not noticing him notice them. "How far would you go to protect her?" He asked, completely derailing the conversation. It caught Adrian off-guard some, but he regained himself.

"I'd die for her."

"Hmm, well considering the times we live in you probably will. Another question, how good are you at Occlumency?"

"Why don't you find out?"

Draco accepted the challenge and raised his wand. "Legilimens,"

The spell hit Adrian straight in the forehead, and although Draco had a clear view of what was going on in the man's head for about a second, that was as far as he could go. He was pushed out at record speed and he couldn't hide his approval.

"Very well then. You should know that your little girlfriend is a traitor. Fiona's been aiding the resistance for quite some time. How close of an eye you've been keeping on her is questionable considering you didn't know that.

'As for the reason she's been coming to my room," Draco added, ignoring the glare that Adrian shot at him. "It's because I'm aiding the resistance just like she is. I've also been giving her Occlumency lessons at night."

Adrian's mouth slid open. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "I may twist the truth, but I'm not an outright liar. Fiona watches my arse and I watch hers." Draco smirked. "Platonically speaking, of course."

"Well… Well, hell," Adrian said as he ran his hands through his hair. "Do you know why she was Imperiused last night?"

"My guess is that it has something to do with one of our dead friends. Theo, to be precise."

"Theo? Merlin, Malfoy. How deep does this crap go?"

Draco thought of Hermione and then he thought of Ron. "Deeper than you can imagine." He sighed. "Don't go to Fiona and tell her what you know. She's likely to kill you."

Adrian looked at him with a disbelieving look. "Fiona? Come on, have you seen her?"

"She's managed to be a spy for years. I think she's capable of keeping her skills under wraps and using them when she needs to." Draco warned him. "Let me talk to her first. After that, and only if she agrees, you get to take over for me."

"Take over? Take over what?"

"Fiona's Occlumency lessons. If you've noticed our habits then the others have too. We need as little suspicion on us as possible. Can you do that?"

"For Fiona? Of course I can." Adrian smirked then and added, "And maybe for you too."

Author's note: Well, for all of you wondering about Adrian, there you go! Voldemort's ranks are a little more corrupt than originally thought, it seems. Also, it's quite bit sad about Draco and his feelings about getting close. Will things change? Who knows… (except me lol).

Thanks for reading!

-WP