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Sometimes in my tears I drown, but I never let it get me down,

so when negativity surrounds

I know some day it'll all turn around,

Because all my life I've been waiting for, I've been praying for,

for the people to say,

that we don't wanna fight no more, they're be no more wars,

and our children will play

One Day, Matisyahu

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Hermione could not believe her luck. Percy was being kinder to her than she could imagine, and a part of her no longer wanted to leave, even though she realized that her friends were probably worried about her.

The room Percy had prepared for her was warm and cozy, even though it was insanely small. The redhead himself snuck her books and extra food when his father was out on war business. Even when the Warden was home and Hermione had to pretend to be fulfilling her purpose, Percy never did anything to make her uncomfortable.

In the heart of enemy territory, she felt warm and safe. Calm, almost. Yet, the knowledge that a war was flaring up around her was enough to keep her wanting out, to encourage her to constantly ask Percy when he would help her escape.

"Soon," he would always say, and then change the subject. Part of her worried that he wasn't really working on it, but knowing that Percy would die if he didn't help her calmed her nerves. Percy was big enough on self-preservation that she didn't let herself think about it too much.

Despite the knowledge that he had no choice but to help her, Hermione was still more than a little surprised when he came into her room and plopped down next to her on her bed barely a week after she was moved from the dungeons. "You're going to be going to rebel headquarters within a few days," Percy said, speaking so quickly that Hermione couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying. "James Potter just contacted my father and offered to exchange you for Bill. My father wasn't going to accept, but I managed to persuade him to think differently."

The room fell quiet for a few moments, with Hermione staring at Percy in shock. He'd actually done it. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain and helped her escape. In only a few days, she would be reunited with her friends. It was perfect.

Except it wasn't, because she'd been getting so used to living where she was, had been getting so used to the presence of the cynical Weasley, that leaving wouldn't be as easy as it would have been when she was first captured.

"Are you okay, Granger?" asked Percy. Hermione forced a smile. He'd laugh if she told him that she was worried how much harder she'd have it away from his protection.

"Great," she smiled. Then, not really thinking about it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an enormous bear hug. When she pulled back, he was smiling slightly too. "Thank you for helping me. I know that you kind of had to, but I really appreciate it."

Percy blushed and ran a hand through his fiery hair. He obviously wasn't used to getting compliments of any kind from girls, and Hermione found that thought oddly endearing. "I didn't do very much," he said dismissively. "Merlin knows you deserved less, but I suppose I came out of the deal pretty well off."

He got up to leave, but hesitated in front of the door. "Don't get yourself killed," he continued softly, his voice genuine. "You still owe me a life debt."

Hermione grinned, seeing in his eyes that the life debt wasn't all he was worried about. "I'll try not to," the bushy-haired girl said gently. " But this is too much like a good-bye. I won't leave for a while yet, right?"

"Four days," said Percy.

"See? So let's just act like things are normal. Can I come into your room to read?"

"I'm leaving soon," he said, his face darkening marginally. "My uncle's funeral is today."

"Uncle?"

"Fabian Prewett," said Percy. His voice was tightening with surprising emotion, and he cleared his throat before continuing, "He was murdered the same time that Sirius Black blew his cover at Hogwarts. My parents and I are Flooing to the service in a few minutes. I just thought that you would like to know the news before I left."

Hermione studied him carefully, taking in his hollow cheeks and the bruise-like circles under his eyes. That was why he'd been so upset before. His uncle had been killed. Without really thinking, she said, "I'm sorry. Really."

"I don't deserve your pity," Percy muttered under his breath. "How many friends and family members of yours are dead because of my kind?"

Then, without saying anything else, the redhead turned out of her room with the strangest expression on his face. It was almost something like regret, but that could not be right. Could it?

Hermione shook the question off. Soon, she would be back with her actual friends, and Percy Weasley's emotions would be the least of her worries. She might as well relax while she still had the chance.

With that thought in mind, Hermione picked up another volume that Percy had given her and started flipping through it, her contemplations dancing between Percy's expression and thoughts of being reunited with her friends again.

…

Fred still wasn't allowed to see George. They said that he wasn't better. As soon as he had woken up, other George had started screaming and cussing at Snape, shouting death threats, even. Fred thought that maybe he could help, but the others worried that it'd only make George worse. So while Fred restlessly paced back and forth in his quarters, simmering in anger that was fully directed at Snape, George was suffering. It was stupid. Fred hadn't wanted to do it at all, but if someone had to do it, he'd wanted it to be him. All of this was his fault, all his fault, and George wound up being the guinea pig anyway. It wasn't fair!

Slamming an angry fist down on a table top, Fred muttered curses under his breath. What kind of idea did Snape have anyway, purposely triggering the reaction? He had to have known that it was dangerous, and rooting through his head, pulling up all those old memories… what if the old memories stuck?

The door to the room creaked open, pulling Fred from his thoughts. Fleur Delacour was in front of him, looking positively terrified.

"Monsieur Snape 'as all of ze information zat he needs," said Fleur in a very soft, unobtrusive voice. "'e wants to attack soon. Ze warden is wanting to get 'is son back, and 'as agreed to exchange your 'ermione for 'im. Snape believes zat 'e will want to do zis 'imself, so when zat is 'appening, our best men will raid ze prisons."

Fred's head jerked up at the mention of Hermione. He hadn't forgotten about her over the last few days, but it would be a lie if he said that she was at the front of his mind. With all of Snape's grand schemes and James's assurances that Hermione would be perfectly safe, he had figured that he had bigger things to worry about. Still, the news that he would soon be getting Hermione back was more than welcome given the circumstances, and a smile crossed his face at the thought.

That smile faded, however, when he thought of the other part of the plan. Raiding the prisons. So many people would die, and what if it didn't work? What if Arthur had been worried enough about him and George being on the other side that he had changed the wards around them? The few people that were actually in the resistance would probably lose their lives, causing everything to completley fall apart. If this failed, there was absolutely no chance that him and George would ever get back home.

Knowing that protesting would do no good, however, Fred let out a low sigh.

"When?"

"Four days," said Fleur. "Zat is when James will be going for 'ermione."

Fred swallowed and nodded. Four days. He'd have four days of normalcy, and then everything would go up in flames. Thinking of George, the redhead sighed.

Everything will go up in flames if it hasn't already, he corrected mentally.

"Are you okay?" Fleur asked hesitantly. Fred shrugged.

"Not really. It's not your problem, though. I think that I need to go find Lee."

Then he left the room sadly, his usually confident gait slow and tired, as though he were an old man. The war hadn't even officially started yet, and Fred already felt like he couldn't stand it anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment, wanting nothing more than to just go home. Back to where Dumbledore was still smiling and twinkle-eyed, where Grindelwald was locked up, and Muggleborns and half-breeds didn't have to hide.

Why in the hell did he ever make that stupid potion in the first place? He had known it was stupid. Lacewing flies and powdered unicorn horn. Why had he thought it safe to test? His mother had been right when she had scolded him for mixing those ingrediant. The combination was impossible to control, terrible, stupid, and he'd done it anyway.

It had been his idea to go into Dumbledore's house, too. George had wanted to carve their initials into a tree, to do something quick and easy, but of course that wasn't good enough for him. He had to go and blow up half a bloody house.

White hot guilt bubbled up in Fred's stomach, mingling with the fear that was already there. The place had been tolerable before, with George, but now he was gone and no one seemed to want to tell Fred if he was ever coming back.

"Hey, Fred, did you hear the news?" Lee asked as he poked his head out of a door, almost ramming into Fred. "This thing is finally going to get started, and we'll get Hermione back at the same time. Something is really happening."

"Yeah," said Fred, forcing a smile. "I suppose it is."

Then Lee pulled him into his room and started talking about strategy, and Fred forced himself to sit still and listen, like he wasn't terrified as hell that he had lost his other half forever.

…

Draco did not take well to prison life. He did not like the musty scent, nor the dirt that seemed to be imbedded in every cold stone surface. He did not like bars that practically glowed with the wards infused into them, and he particularly did not like being completely, one-hundred percent powerless.

Three times a day, a big, stupid Durmstrang guard would rumble down into the dungeons and toss Draco a plate of questionable food. The man in the cell adjacent to him received about half of the portion size that Draco did, but the blond refused to give Bill Weasley any extra, despite half-hearted cursing and threats. The man was a hostage. He did not need food. Besides, judging by the way that Bill's body seemed to be caving in on itself, he had probably been tortured too thoroughly to keep very much down anyway.

Regulus Black had gotten more food than either of them, probably because his brother was up high in the hierarchy of filthy traitors and rebel scum. Then, of course, the tall duck-footed man had waddled down into the dungeons the evening that Draco had arrived and toted Regulus off.

"That's Viktor Krum," Bill had told Draco, his face twisted into an expression of distaste. "A brute from Bulgaria. Damn good wizard, too, just stupid as hell. Apparently his grandfather had gone to school with Grindelwald, back before Durmstrang became the shit hole it is today, and Krum grew up with stories about how terrible he was. Now the piece of foreign filth has spent the last four years making hell for my father, stealing soldiers from Durmstrang left and right."

Draco had said nothing. He needed to act like he didn't care, like he didn't know nor like Bill, if he was going to be let out. Conversing with 'the enemy' would not help his chances at leaving the dungeons early. He kept up his silence, too. Not once did he speak to Bill or any of the Durmstrang soldiers that gave him his food.

Then, after Draco was trapped in the dungeons for at least two days, maybe three, Sirius Black appeared in front of his cell.

"I'm filthy," complained Draco, his voice raspy from not speaking in so long. "You're my bloody godfather. The least you could do is get me a shower."

Bill snorted. The Weasley heir was caked with blood and grime, eyes blood-shot and slightly wild. Draco had no right to be whining considering his fellow prisoner's state, but Draco had never been one for fighting to be braver or stronger than others. Besides, Bill had actually done something wrong, whereas Draco was locked away for absolutely no reason.

"I saved your life, Draco," Sirius retorted, rather childishly. "The least you could do is act a little grateful."

Draco was sorely tempted to stick his tongue out, but just managed to refrain from doing so. "Saved my life? I'll die in this hellhole anyway," Draco said. "Please. I have done nothing wrong, and I never will do anything wrong. Just let me out."

Sirius smirked. "Maybe we will sometime soon. I suppose I'll just have to see."

"Sirius!"

"I served as a spy for over ten years, Draco. I know deception when I see it, and I have no doubts that you are lying. If I were to let you out, I could compromise the entire war effort. Don't worry, I'll be able to tell when you're being honest with me."

Then he sent one more wink in the direction of his godson and walked away, leaving a steaming Draco behind.

A/N-

I apologize for how short and uneventful that was, but the whole huge battle/exchanging of the hostages thing comes up next, and that needs to have its own chapter. I will try to update ASAP, but I can't make any promises as to how soon that'll be, especially since the next chapter is going to be longer.

Someone mentioned something about Fabian killing Lucius because he was a traitor, but that was just an accident. There was too much going on during the battle and people were randomly firing everywhere, so it was just a case of a dark wizard being too eager to kill.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing. Please keep it up.

~bballgirl32~