Disclaimer:All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

A/n:Hello hello readers! We are back to Draco! Oh, and I made a banner and cover for this story. You can find the full banner on my facebook page (look for the link on my profile; there are a bunch of other links too) and you can see the cover up in the left hand corer representing this story. Anyways, enjoy all you lovely readers, and don't be shy about leaving a comment! Thanks to my beta Tessa Cresswell!

I can't remember the last time I had this bad of a splitting headache. My father has been unhappy with me since my return, and has thus taken to beating my head in. It's a lovely pastime, really.

Rushing away from that safe house had been easier than expected. I had anticipated at least one of the idiots figuring out what had happened and pursuing me, but no, I had gotten away without seeing eye nor ear of either of them. Of course, getting away and into the Manor was easy; the hard part was explaining to my father why I was without Granger. And he had not taken lightly to my story; I now have the scars to prove how unhappy he was.

But that was nothing. Coming back after only a few days away had not been what I expected at all. I've no idea what my parents did, but it seems that we have fallen even further out of the fucking Lord's favor and now everyone- save Blaise and Pansy- scowl at us during the meetings. My presence is so useless recently that I could probably avoid going all together; that's how much talking I do. But to not attend would be to meet the end of Voldemort's wand, and that's a very unpleasant thought. My father is vicious when it comes to punishment but Voldemort would be absolutely brutal.

Coming back I realized several things have changed here; I have to constantly watch my back. Before I knew that my family- and myself- were not on everyone's good side but now I feel I may just be murdered if I don't watch my back. Its parannoying and I have taken to hiding in my room even more so than before these days. Blaise- and occasionally Pansy- are my only visitors, and I'm glad for that. Up until the time Granger informed me of what she had heard through these walls, I had never noticed how many hateful glares are thrown my way on a daily basis.

I roll over on my bed, hoping to crush my headache with a second pillow. It's been simply horrible adjusting to this place, and every time I get back into the flow of things something changes. I have to watch my mother more closely now for fear that someone will kill her when my back is turned. This is the only other thing besides the meetings that ever draws me out of this room.

I hear my door creak open slowly, and know immediately who it is. The wards on my room make it impossible for anyone to just walk in, but I have allowed three exceptions; my mother, Blaise and Pansy. Considering that mother is off someplace with father and Pansy hides like me, I assume this must be Blaise.

"You look terrible," he says, and I know my guess is right. Scoffing I look up, fixing him with a glare. "What? You can't deny it; you hardly come out of this bloody place and you've stressed yourself out."

I purse my lips. Blaise knows about what Granger told me, about what will likely happen to my family. He knows how stressed and worried I've been, although we have never discussed it. I wish that he could be of more help within this ordeal, help me watch my mother or something, but he has Pansy and himself to watch and it's not fair for me to demand he take on even more.

"Should I not be?"

Blaise only raised an eyebrow. "If you weren't concerned I'd have to hit you a few good times and knock some sense back into your head." He walked swiftly across the room, pausing only to grasp ahold of a chair and drag it with him, so he could sit beside me in it. I look away from him again and resume my appointment with the pillows.

"You've changed," he said, sounding sure of himself. "You pay more attention."

I scoff, raising a hand to give him the finger, hoping he will leave me alone for now. It only draws a laugh from him.

"Oh Malfoy, if only you could see it."

Rolling my eyes, I lift my head just far enough away from the pillows to speak; "What are you going on about Zabini?"

He chuckles again. "You miss her."

I frown, unsure who this 'her' is he is referring to. I just saw my mother earlier today, and I see Pansy often enough. "Who?"

"Don't play stupid Draco; you know who I mean."

Ah, Granger. He had mentioned her on more than one occasion, claiming that I had softened a bit towards people since I had to treat her like a human and take care of her. I beg to differ; I only did it because I did not want to be responsible for her death. I certainly don't miss watching her! It was an absolute nuisance to have to constantly help her.

"I don't miss her."

"But you do; you don't see it yet, because you are denying it, but you miss her company. It's a lonely world out there when you don't have someone's hand to hold, isn't it?"

I smirk, controlling any emotions and sit up. "I could always hold your bloody hand."

There was no amusement in his eyes however. "You know what I mean Draco; you don't have someone to care for anymore. With Granger here you had to step outside your selfish attitude and consider the health of someone for the first time in your life. You may have worried for me and Pansy and your mother, but it's not the same feeling. Granger depended on you because she lost something important, and in return you depended on her to distract you from the war."

I don't respond, and choose instead to watch him closely. This here is my best mate, telling me that a Mudblood was the distraction I needed to be human and learn to care. Obviously, Blaise had gone off the deep end and had started sniffing herbs or something.

I will never say I miss Granger, never. She was a burden! She broke my things and stumbled around my room, always bleeding and sounding so little. The only reason I was even involved was because of my fucking father! I didn't ask to see what they had done to her, and how it affected her. I could've gone my entire life without seeing the torture one human could inflict on another without feeling a single thing.

Granger had been my first close look at what would happen to people- muggles and wizards alike- if Voldemort won this war, and the sad part was that wasn't even full treatment. She didn't suffer completely, because I had to interfere; my heart couldn't stand watching someone being battered into the ground like that. I had barely been able to stand the idea of killing Dumbledore- which had not been by my hand by the way- and that was a clean kill. This was torture, and how someone stomached it was beyond me.

When my silence continued, I heard Blaise scoot out his chair. "Why don't you just think on that then Malfoy? I have to find Pansy anyway, I don't trust to leave her alone in this fucking place. Just think about what I'm saying, because you know you are lonely here without someone- without Granger being around to save. You need someone's hand to hold, not just to save them but yourself."

Zabini left me with those words echoing in my mind. It wasn't until he had left and my door had clicked shut- the wards locking it for me- that I fell back against my bed. Blaise could be a great friend at times, but sometimes I think he looks too deeply into the meaning of things. Did it show in my body language that I lacked the help of another? I highly doubt that Granger had the affect on me that Blaise is trying to explain; really, all I ever did was make sure she didn't die.

Lying down again, I fight for sleep. It's not until I have laid there for nearly twenty minutes that I allow myself to realize that I'm still awake because there isn't the sound of soft breathing anywhere in here to fill the empty silence.

I awake in the morning to insistent rapping on my door. Merlin, what time is it? People really need to use those things called clocks. Glancing at mine as I stumble out of bed I realize it's barely four in the morning. This had better be important! Snatching up my wand, I storm to the door, not even bothering to peek out.

The person on the other side is not someone I care to see so early in the day- or ever really. Aunt Bella is looking at me with a critical eye, wand drawn lazily at her side. This can't mean anything good.

"I heard you lost the Mudblood," she said carelessly, and that single sentence jumpstarts my mind. Bella had never really been involved in my father's plan as far as I knew, and shouldn't have known that she had been staying with me at all. Had my father jumped to conclusions and told the entire group of Death Eater's that I was taking care of her until the time came to kill her? It was the only explanation I could come up with, but even to me it sounded unlikely. If all of Voldemort's followers knew that I had let the girl get away, than I would've been well aware of it from the moment I returned, not three days later.

Come to think of it, I haven't even really discussed the topic with my father at all. He just seems to have guessed what has happened. I suppose I should prepare myself for some sort of confrontation with him sometime then.

I am careful about how I answer her blunt statement. "I was unable to keep ties around her for too long before obstacles got in the way."

"Yes, obstacles," she said unkindly, seconds before she hits me hard across the face. I stumble a bit, having expected a magical attack before a physical. Why is that? She steps into the room and I step back, watching her through narrowed eyes as I taste blood. Oh good, those hideous nails of hers really did cut my lip. "They can be nasty to handle." With a flick of her wand, she has my door shut tight.

Oh bloody hell. If she kills me then I hope it is a quick death and not at all like what they did to 'the Mudblood' I lost. I clear my throat, waiting for either her attack or her screams, but nothing happens and it's a time before she speaks again, calmer now.

"You cannot fail like this Draco," she said, keeping her tone short. "The Lord is already irritated with you. Is it your goal to suffer an early death? Because I will tell you, you are doing a fantastic job. Really, just say you love Mudblood's next and you won't need to worry about suicide!"

I blink, surprised. Bella is lecturing me? This is not what I expected after the hit, but is she actually trying to give me advice on how to survive? She must be sniffing something too.

"You need to toughen up; your skills are well beyond your years; you have so much potential. But all of that will be taken away if you cross the Lord once more! He knows nothing of the idea your father created, only I and Rodolphus know; he informed us just after your departure. That plan was flawed from the start and I am surprised that you didn't get killed in the process."

I nod, not following this. When she remains silent again, I clear my throat and speak up. "Aunt Bella? What exactly are you doing here?"

She blinks, giving me a look like I really am stupid. "What do you think I'm doing my boy? I'm going to give you hints on how to survive! Once the Dark Lord wins, you won't need to tiptoe around as much, but until then you are in danger and I don't think I can rightly let my nephew die before he can use his full potential!"

I'm not sure I want to engage in this topic at all, but there really doesn't seem to be much of a choice in the matter. "And what exactly is my potential?"

"Well, to follow your father of course! Lucius's lifeline is drawing to an end as I'm sure you are aware, as is your mothers. Truthfully, I will not assist either of them in surviving; Lucius is far too headstrong and full of his own ideas to fully appreciate what Voldemort is doing for all of us."

"And my mother," I ask hesitantly, not sure I want to know her answer.

She laughs cruelly. "Narcissa? Don't be stupid boy; you should've seen this from the beginning too. Your mother is going to die because of your father's failures- soon no doubt- but I am going to ensure that their prodigy lives on. You alone shall redeem your family's name in the Lord's favor and strive on past this post war era. You alone will carry on your name after Voldemort ends your parent's lives."

I feel the bile rising in my throat. How can she talk about such horrible things so easily? Then again, this is Bella, and I should expect nothing more. She is grinning at me now, that hungry look in her eyes, and I can tell she just can't wait to start teaching me. I gulp, suddenly terrified again.

She tells me to raise my wand, and I comply, my mind a million miles away. How will I save my mother without Voldemort noticing us trying to leave? The port key Granger gave me is a heavy weight around my neck, and I remember her words about not waiting too long to leave this place. Perhaps I haven't used my time wisely.

Maybe I'll find her again when I get my mother away from this place. I don't know what good that will do, but as I dodge a spell sent at me, I remember Blaise talking about me needing someone's hand to hold.

I could really use one right now.