It was clear that Blaise Zabini had developed a madness in the years since the war ceased to rage through the Wizarding world. To think that someone who had been in a rather tight knit circle of death eaters for his cold calculating eyes and demeanor, for the way he could perform without question, now could not tell between a polyjuiced person and his own confidant…it was almost unimaginable.

He had fallen.

It was a ridiculous thought, and a residual one at that. Leftover from the old days. Draco had considered the man a friend for years, though over the last two or so they'd seen less of each other than he had liked, though of course he hadn't voiced this. But he wasn't stupid enough to think they were close friends, never that. Theo even lesser still.

Theodore Nott.

The more he went over every conversation he'd had with the intuitive man only served to reinforce his doubt. He didn't know if he was playing along and humoring Draco, or humoring Zabini. He wasn't stupid enough to go along with him blindly. And the sincerity he'd always spoken to Draco with was unquestionable honesty. Or at least it seemed like it. If it was forced, he lied better than Draco. He didn't know if he was a double agent of sorts, or if he was truly out to rid the world of Hermione Granger.

His Hermione Granger, his Granger. His witch. No one would take her away from him. Even if Theo turned out to be playing Zabini, if he got in the way of protecting her, Draco would not hesitate to hurt him or even kill him. Never would he have thought himself capable of believing those words, but with each passing moment of danger drawing ever closer, he was beginning to find it quite easy.

"He will kill her if you're not careful."

He knew that.

"If you really love her, you must protect her."

He…what right did Theo have to just blurt it out like that? He hadn't known before—or had he?

"If it comes to it, you and Blaise will face off, and someone will die. And whenever that day is, it will be a sad one."

Why would it be a sad one? He had no intention of dying. If Daphne ever cared for Zabini at all, she'll be sad, but she had her family to fall back on. Astoria couldn't care less past a piece of copper, let alone gold. And he doubted with certainty that Granger wouldn't be sad. Maybe angry at Draco for killing him, but—Wait, why was he thinking about this so ahead of time? There was no use planning things out. He knew too well how that usually turned out for him.

Whatever happened, whenever it happened…it would happen. And that was it.

There would be nothing else.

Hermione found Draco on the couch, in the dark, glaring intensely at some far away spot on the floor. She knew his thoughts were laden with much the same things hers were. Zabini. Theo's possible betrayal, staying alive, keeping those close to you alive. She stood behind him a moment, just idly in the hallway watching him. Seeing him sigh suddenly and drop his face into his hands broke her heart a little. This was not a new feeling. Every time she was able to steal private moments like this and see him as he was, just him, was something that made her chest ache and her eyes swell with tears she didn't know the reason for.

She went to sit beside him, not announcing her entry because there was no reason to. He didn't look at her, not even when she began to guide his body to lie down, his upper body between her legs and facing away as she began to work steady and firm hands between his shoulders. She heard the small sound of relief spill from his lips and she knew he'd be closing his eyes and enjoying the massage as best he could. The tension would never disappear though, not as long as Zabini was still out there, lurking almost intimately close. They just didn't know. Not where he was. Not when he'd strike.

So why worry?

There was now and that was all that mattered, to her at least. And dammit, she'd make the best of the time they had left before the inevitable confrontation with Zabini. She'd accepted that. They would have to fight.

Harry and Ron had argued immensely against this course of action, but this was her choice. Hers and Draco's. The way he'd not argued to preserve her safety in the form of keeping her away from the problem at hand told her all she needed to know about his current state of mind. He'd resolved to fight to. He was deliberately going against what she knew was his very nature, to stay out of it, to get out while he could, but if Draco was anything, it was stubborn until the very end. And she knew that it was a slew of other things as well. The most prominent to her being that he cared about her. Something both of them never expected to happen from this chance pairing.

Draco relaxed further down into her arms, lying completely back so that she laid her arms across his chest, holding his hands gently. He squeezed and she knew it was a silent thank you for taking his mind off things for awhile. She rested the side of her head against his, blond hair tickling around her peripherals. She inhaled his scent, loving the way it warmed her within moments.

And just like that, her thoughts were clear. She felt relaxed.

The serene quiet stretched, casting a rare shadow that eclipsed the rest of the world's worries from their minds. But it couldn't last forever, and surprisingly Draco was the first one to bring it up.

"It doesn't fit."

She angled her head so she could catch the look on his face, a concentrated one, then settled back where she'd been. "What do you mean?"

"Theo. Everything he's said to me since the very first murders happened, it's like it's been leading up to this. It's like he knew something like this would end up happening."

"He did score high in Trelawney's," she said, smiling. She felt his face shift with the effort of his smirk but his mood only seemed to darken even more after it fell away, quick as it was.

"No. Not like that, more like its some elaborate plan he's worked out. Like he's writing out a story or something."

He trailed off and didn't seem inclined to continue, so she hedged a little. "What did he say that makes you think that?"

Draco grew quiet, and Hermione wondered if he was going to refuse to talk about it. But he started saying something once then stopped, choosing what exactly to say. Finally, he just said, "He said you were beautiful."

"What?" She couldn't quite control how high her voice sounded, she was too surprised. "Was Blaise there?"

"No…No one was. That's just it. We met in the Hog's Head months ago, a week after I was assigned as your guard. Remember?" She nodded, and he continued, "Zabini left almost directly after he sided with me about your merits. And then shortly after that he just slipped it in."

"There was no need to lay it on that thick," she said, disbelieving.

Draco was not amused. "Exactly, there was no reason at all. No one to impress. No one around to hear."

She lowered her chin to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, saying, "Maybe he knew you had a thing for me all the way back then."

She was so close to him, she felt his flesh heat at her comment. But he didn't refuse it. Or deny it. She smiled against his skin, but said in a more serious tone, "It was so offhand, it must have been what he honestly thought."

"That's what I've been debating the last few days." They'd not gone back to work, and wouldn't be for obvious reasons. Blaise planned to attack as soon as they returned to work, assuming Theo really was working with him. "Everything he's ever said, everything, has had a purpose. He never speaks without thinking and I can't decide whether he's lying or telling the truth."

"The way Blaise made it sound in his office was like he had unwavering support. He knew Theo was on his side a hundred percent. But then Theo was talking so naturally with you, so heartfelt…"

"He didn't turn Zabini in. Didn't turn Astoria in."

"Maybe he's cursed," she whispered, thinking of how Viktor had been under the imperio curse so long ago, not wanting to believe that they'd be dealing with another possible Dark Lord rising.

"Maybe, but that wouldn't allow for any convincing emotion to play through."

"Obliviated?"

"Possibly. But how would he get his memories back and forth so quickly?"

She was contemplative. "It took me months to restore my parents' memories. It's not an easy thing to pull off." And she seriously doubted Blaise Zabini's skill in eliminating and restoring memories.

Draco let out a heavy sigh, laying his head back with a frown. She pressed soft lips to his temple and grasped his hands more securely in her own. She knew how he felt right now. She felt it too. Frustrated, desperate for any new information.

And then it came to her. Just as it had been invisibly hanging between them for the entire conversation. A perfect setting to get what they needed.

"We need to see Theo. Both of us."

Draco began to turn in her grasp, protesting, but she held him tightly in her arms. He couldn't move without dislodging her, so he grunted disapprovingly and stayed where he was. She spoke over him, not letting any possible comeback from him get in her way.

"You know it just as well as I do. If we're going to get anywhere in this, we need to talk to him." She lowered her voice, "Besides, I could just obliviate him after. It won't be that much of an issue."

His rigid posture in her arms told her he was considering her words. That he recognized the truth in them, no matter the risk it posed.

He placed his hands over her own, kissed her wrist briefly. He let out a held breath and she could practically feel how ragged it was, how tired he felt. Finally, he said, "I thought that, after your parents…"

Hearing the question in his voice she answered, "I'd do it again, for this. It feels like back then. You know?"

Grimly, he nodded in her arms. "At least we don't have another war on our hands."

"Very true. But we need to finish this before it evolves to that."

He angled his head to look back at her as best he could. She met his eyes, seeing for the first time in weeks a peace there. "I'm not running."

"Neither am I."

Each studied the other in that moment, and finding they shared the same resolve, they met each other for a kiss. This night was the deciding factor in what would inevitably change the course of their futures.

Whether they lived or died in the next few hours, days, or weeks, tonight would be given over to something shared that neither wanted to relinquish. Tonight would be for the moment. For them. Their differences would meld and give them something unbreakable. Something untouchable.

And they would face Theo, they would face Blaise, and they would meet their fates.

Just the two of them.

"So where are we going again?"

The reply was late in coming, but come it did in the form of a raised voice tinted with odd excitement. "It's a surprise, Daphne, remember? Just get packed, and you'll see soon enough." Finally, Blaise entered the room, strolled over to her and kissed her easily. She smiled at him, still curious. This wasn't like him, not at all.

"Well, that gives me nothing to go on. I just want to know a little about where we're going." Her lover tilted his lips and put the pad of his thumb against the corner of her mouth. Trailing it down to her throat, he stayed silent.

"Blaise?" she asked, as the moment began to stretch uncomfortably thin.

"Hm?" Like he hadn't heard her, he kept his thumb at her neck and then as suddenly as it was there, it was gone. The way he'd been staring at it was strange, but he'd been doing that a lot lately. Just zoning out. She wondered what was wrong. But she didn't ask, knowing that he'd just give his usual answer; work problems. Whatever case he was working on was taking its toll.

He left the room and she resumed her packing. She didn't know where they were going. She just knew they were leaving tonight.

It was hardly as if they were fleeing the country, she snorted at the thought.

The image of Astoria, drunk and obviously upset, came to her. For a moment her hands stilled, and she thought that maybe what her sister had said about Granger being dead hadn't been as farfetched as she'd originally thought. She felt suddenly uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Blaise came bursting in the room suddenly, startling her. In reality he'd simply just walked back in, not burst, but now the doubt was in her mind. Were they fleeing London? Europe? It would explain her sister and her lover's strained relationship, however unorthodox it had been. It would explain the sudden vacation time from work he'd gotten. And she hadn't even heard from her sister for a while. What had happened after she'd kicked her out?

Blaise was staring at her, eyebrow raised, lips twisted into an amused smirk. He shook his head bemusedly, and those dark eyes flashed once as he once more left the room. He'd come back for his tie. That was all. So why was her heart hammering? Why were her hands clenched so tightly?

What was this unexplainable fear suddenly coursing through her?

Daphne scolded herself, gathering her wits. Unclenching her hands, she resumed packing once more. She was smarter than this. If anything, she could pull off an act. Beginning to think of everything that seemed off the last few months, she methodically packed.

She wouldn't know for sure if there was indeed something wrong until after they left, until after she found out where they were going. And if indeed he was keeping something from her, she'd know the moment she learned how long they were staying.

Daphne remembered the war. If it came to it, she worried she wouldn't be allowed to leave.

She ignored the slight ache at the thought of Blaise being at fault for the rumors of Hermione Granger being hunted down. She wasn't a fan of the woman, but she never wished harm on her! Now was no time for emotion. Now was time for fact.

Tucking her wand close to her breast within the inner pockets of her sleek dress robes, she began to formulate a plan of her own. Just in case.

Her mother had taught her that.

Theo.

Come to The Hog's Head tomorrow at noon.

We know.

Theo tossed the small note the owl had delivered into the embers of his fireplace. He hardly had to imagine why Draco Malfoy had sent a note to him. He knew immediately that Hermione Granger had a role in this too.

Blaise wouldn't know of this meeting. It was too much of a risk to allow anyone involved know beside himself. If anyone else found out, he'd be jeopardized, and then more lives would be lost. And he couldn't allow that.

So Draco knew. And Granger knew.

Somehow, this didn't affect him as much as he thought it would originally. Predominately he'd envisioned him being sick to his stomach, nervous. But nothing came to him.

His hands were still, breathing steady, head clear.

He knew that tomorrow would be the prestige event. Tomorrow the truth would be told. Tomorrow, Draco and Granger would know what he was doing. What he'd been doing all along.

And then maybe, finally, he would be able to rest.