Draco didn't have a very good sleep. He kept tossing and turning and having nightmares that oddly enough involved a head of red hair. And it didn't help that now, after hours of restlessness and finally drifting into a comfortable sleep, that he was being prodded awake.

"Let me sleep, Granger." Draco grumbled. A hand continued to shake him and he shook it off. "I'm serious. Stop waking me and stay on your side of the bed for once."

"What?" A deep male voice answered.

Draco snapped awake. He turned his head to find one of the eldest redheads standing at the side of the bed wearing a facial expression that was quite hard to place.

"What are you doing in my room, Weasley?"

"This isn't your room. It's Hermione's."

If Draco hadn't been awake before he certainly was now. He sat up in bed a little and looked around. As he had taken note of before, the rooms in this place weren't very different, but Hermione's bookshelf made all the necessary discrimination. He was just as surprised as Charlie to find himself here. He remembered being a tad disgruntled after Hermione had left. Then he had lain down to stew in his juices some and... Well, he must have fallen asleep on her bed.

Draco looked up at Charlie. It suddenly dawned on him that the man had come into Hermione's room expecting to find her there. He scowled.

"What do you want?"

Charlie glared at him. "Hermione,"

"I figured that much out for myself, thanks. What did you want from her?"

Charlie appeared to be grinding his teeth. Perhaps it was a form of restraint? Whatever it was, he was sure to lose all of his teeth if he kept at it.

"Where is she?"

"What do you want from her?

"Why won't you answer my question?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Both men stared at each other with harsh gazes. They stayed like that for Merlin knew how long until Charlie let out a frustrated sigh.

"A meeting is happening before breakfast."

Draco rose a fine eyebrow. "So I was told, breakfast is at eight. What the hell time is it?"

"Six-thirty,"

"You woke me up at six-thirty in the bloody morning?!"

"You weren't supposed to be in here! Now answer my first question!"

"...Granger slept in your brother's room last night."

Charlie's face softened. "Oh. I guess their meeting went well then."

Draco sighed. "Very,"

Silence drifted in then, but Draco still had an itch to scratch.

"Tell me, Weasley. Does everyone get a personalized wakeup call around here, or just Granger?"

Charlie's face went red, but it was hard to tell whether from anger or embarrassment.

"Were it up to me you wouldn't be getting a wakeup call at all. Angelina is probably wondering where you are right about now."

Draco huffed. "Fine, you hate me. Good for you. How does it feel to stand on that ledge alone?"

"Don't get so cozy, Malfoy." Charlie sneered. "Just because everything looks fine on the outside, it doesn't mean that it is. Not everyone is thrilled to have you here. You-Know-Who is out for blood concerning you, and what leads to you leads to us."

Those were essentially Ginny's words once before. And although Draco could see his point, there was a greater point that had to be made.

"Granger wouldn't have left me behind. Where I go, she goes."

Charlie snorted. "What makes you think that?"

Draco chuckled. He stretched. And then he eased his shirt off his shoulders some so that he could massage them. His twisting would've revealed non-fully healed nail marks on his shoulders from yesterday's activities with the witch. From the whiter than white complexion on the man, Draco concluded that Charlie had seen.

"I have my reasons." The blond grinned. "What time is the meeting?"

"S-seven,"

"Alright," Draco replied as he went to lay back down on Hermione's bed. "I'll see you there."

Adrian couldn't sleep last night. He kept having dreams about Fiona. He dreamt about finding her. He dreamt about finding Blaise hovering over her lifeless body. He dreamt about the last time they were together. He even dreamt of a future with her.

All in all this equated to roughly three hours of sleep and he felt exhausted. He wanted to be on high alert today considering Blaise's sudden memory loss of certain events. He needed to see how the man maneuvered without them and then adapt accordingly.

But not right now. He had about forty-five minutes before he absolutely had to get up and get ready for breakfast. He was going to milk every single minute of this time he had for himself. Or at least he was. The sound of apparation filled his room and he scrunched his brows together as he found a house elf at the foot of his bed.

"Are you Mr. Adrian Pucey?"

Adrian tilted his head. "Yes?"

"My name is Eliza. Eliza has a note to give to you from Miss Fiona Carrow."

Adrian's felt his heart stop. He hurriedly threw his sheets off of him and scrambled to the edge of the bed. "What did you just say?"

"Eliza has a note to give to you from Miss Fiona Carrow."

Adrian's throat ran dry. He blinked several times, thinking that when he did the house elf would disappear because this was a dream. But she was still here.

"Where's the note?"

"Here, sir."

Eliza pulled the note out of a badly sewn in pocket. Adrian took it from her with a shaky hand and turned it over. As he did his thoughts swirled. This was too convenient. How, after just finding out that Fiona may still be alive, does this happen? Did Georgie screw up the Memory Charm? Did Blaise remember Adrian's risky attempt at Legilimency and thought of this as a cruel form of payback?

Adrian opened the note and was met Fiona's familiar script. What tumbled out of it and fell onto the bed was a ripped piece of fabric –fabric from the last set of clothes she'd worn and what he had seen in Blaise's head. The message inside wasn't much, but what he read held so much significance that he felt his heart soar.

Z summer home

Warded bedroom

Play nice with E

With love, F.C.

Although the most important part of the note were the top two lines, Adrian couldn't help but focus on and melt at the way she had signed it. With love… Merlin, he could've died right then the happiest man on the planet.

Play nice with E

If "Z" stood for Zabini, Adrian could only come to the conclusion that "E" also stood for a name. He couldn't think for his life who he knew whose name began with that letter. No one except the house elf who was still in his room.

Play nice.

And that's when it dawned on him.

"Eliza," Adrian said tentatively. "Are you obligated to follow Fiona's orders?"

Eliza looked positively mortified. "Miss Carrow has never ordered Eliza to do anything! Miss Carrow asked Eliza."

Adrian slowly smiled. He and Fiona had had a conversation like this once. It was a long time ago at Hogwarts when she was boasting about how to get around getting other family house elves to do what she wanted. "They're programmed for orders, not unobligated requests."

If any quality of hers could've gotten Fiona into Slytherin, it was her cunning and resourcefulness.

"Hey, Eliza, I'm going to ask you a few questions if that's alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Pucey. Miss Carrow said that you would."

Adrian smiled. "Can you bring Fiona here?"

"No, sir." Eliza shook her head. "Her bedroom is warded and only Master Zabini can undo it."

Only he can undo it, huh? Maybe it's some sort of blood spell?

"How did you manage to get this note from her then?"

"Eliza can go in between the wards but cannot bring anyone with her."

"And where's the Zabini summer home?"

"Venice,"

"Alright, okay… One last question. Is Fiona always in the house alone?"

"Not always, no. Master Zabini always comes to bring her food, but he didn't come last night."

Adrian furrowed his brow. "He…? He what?"

"Master Zabini always makes sure that she is fed, sir. Especially dinner, around eight p.m. every day."

Well, that's surprising…

"And that's all? Just him?"

"Yes, but Miss Carrow also wanted Eliza to tell you that Mistress Zabini will be home tomorrow."

Adrian stared at the elf in alarm. Tomorrow? Tomorrow? That didn't give him much time at all! He only had one shot to do this and it had to be done today. He could always have Eliza apparate him to the summer home –that wasn't the problem. It was first hoping that the ward keeping Fiona trapped was blood-related, and then it was a matter of getting Blaise's blood.

"Can I ask you for a favor, Eliza?"

Eliza's eyes lighted up in delight. "Of course!"

"Can you come back to this room at eleven p.m. tonight? If you don't mind?"

"Yes, Mr. Pucey! Eliza will come back."

Eliza disappeared from in front of his eyes and Adrian was on an adrenaline rush. Fiona was alive. She contacted him. And he'd be damned if he didn't get her out by tonight. He just needed a little help to do it, and he had a feeling he knew the perfect witch to help. Once he'd given her the right incentive, of course.

Ron had already been asleep when Hermione had gotten back to his room. She had smiled at him, even going so far as to sit at his side for a little while and watch him as he slept. She had gently prodded him too. On the cheek. The shoulder. His leg. His foot. She had this unquenchable need to make sure that he was real. That this wasn't some elaborate hoax.

And then that's when she had heard it. Ron's voice in her head. She didn't know what she would've done if she had seen him in the corner while the real version of him was beneath her perusing hand. It was strange, really, how the mind worked. Now that he was here, her imagination of him was manifesting as an auditory hallucination. Was this better or worse? Considering that she could have always shut her eyes to keep Ron from her sight and she couldn't shut off her ears, this was worse.

Hermione had gotten up from Ron's side and placed her hands over her ears to stop it. It didn't work. She didn't have her wand on her and so she couldn't try a Muffilato. And so she had spent Merlin only knew how long pacing the bedroom, mumbling under her breath how much she wanted him to stop. In the end she had crawled onto the other bed, placing her pillow over her head. She didn't know whether it was to muffle the sound or to smother herself, but eventually she had succumbed to sleep. Not a very long sleep, she surmised, because when Charlie woke her up her eyes, head, and entire body felt worn and exhausted.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Charlie asked.

"I'm fine." She lied. "I just...I didn't sleep very well."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded and then forced a smile onto her face. "I am. Promise. Um...what time is it?"

"Six-forty-five. Ginny and I thought it would be a good idea to have a meeting before breakfast. You know, figure out our next steps."

"Right. That sounds like a good idea. I actually have a few of my own that I want to bring up."

"Okay, great. The meeting's in fifteen minutes."

"Alright," Hermione said as she stretched and got out of bed. "I'll just go grab my wand from my room and-"

"You can't go in there." Charlie said quickly.

Hermione's brows furrowed. "What? What do you mean I can't-?"

"Malfoy's in your room."

Charlie watched her face for her reaction. He expected outrage. Or at least he hoped for outrage. He still felt like vomiting after leaving her room with him still in it. But there was nothing. She merely pursed her lips and sighed.

"Okay,"

"Okay?" He repeated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it." Hermione said with a shrug. "What more is there?"

Charlie felt his mouth go slack-jawed, but he didn't let it fall. Instead he swallowed. This wasn't the time to discuss it. So he bit down on his tongue, hard, and replied, "Nothing. It's nothing. How was Ron last night?"

Hermione resisted the urge to let her broken demeanor fall. "You were right. He really does think the Battle of Hogwarts was this year." She took a deep breath and glanced back at him. He was still a deep sleeper, but she felt better talking about this next bit outside, and so she urged Charlie to follow her out of the room. "Why did you cover his Mark? I know you didn't want to bombard him with too much, but I can't help but feel that prolonging this will only hurt him."

Charlie sighed. "I know, Hermione, but-"

"No, Charlie, listen to me. Have you thought about how bad his reaction will be when he finds out that his 'scar' isn't a scar? What if the charm you've used fades suddenly?"

"One of us goes into his room every two days when he's sleeping and strengthen the charm."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out an exasperated breath. "He should be told –at the very least about that. But, you and the others are his family and so it's up to you to decide what to do with him."

Charlie frowned. "You're his family too."

Hermione gave him a grim smile and nodded. "I'll see you at the meeting."

Hermione turned and left without waiting for Charlie's reply. When she got back to her room there he was, Draco, lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"This makes the second time I've come to my bedroom to find you here." She said after entering and closing her door.

Draco looked over at her with every intention to say something witty or sarcastic, but he stopped when he saw the state of her. He immediately swung his feet onto the floor and stood.

"What happened?"

"Malfoy, I'm fi-"

"Don't lie." Draco said sternly. He walked across the room to meet her until he was standing directly in front of her. Hair tousled. Dark circles under her eyes. A look of unease clearly written on her face. His lips turned down into a frown as he used his thumbs to run gently across her cheeks.

"What happened?"

Hermione couldn't help it. She could feel the buildup of tears and did very little to stop them as they fell. Draco wiped them away as they came. He didn't ask any more questions. He didn't have to. He only said one thing:

"Don't go there again without me."

Hermione nodded. Draco smiled a bit and then left her side for a moment to retrieve both his wand and hers. He slipped hers into her hand, but he aimed his. She tilted her head a bit in confusion before he explained.

"You look a mess." Draco said. "If you don't want anyone to slam you with questions, I have to make an adjustment or two, alright?"

"Yes, of course. Go ahead."

Draco's free hand slowly gravitated to the back of her neck, and he locked her in place. He used his wand to make her hair slightly less wild. Next he tackled the tears and erased them from existence. Then he put her wand to her eyes to make them less puffy and the skin around them less dark. That was all that was needed, and no one would think that she had been plagued at all during the wee hours of the morning.

And yet although he was done, he didn't move. He kept his hand on her neck, drawing slow circles with his finger. He stared into her eyes –fresh and awake they were now as well as vibrant and curious as he was so used to seeing. They both knew that a kiss was coming, but it still didn't prepare them well enough. It wasn't lust-filled. It wasn't even remotely passionate. It was a slow kiss meant to be savored and deeply felt when their tongues touched. It was over in mere seconds, but it felt like a millennia. They rested their foreheads together and closed their eyes, neither saying anything for a while.

"The last time you did this," Hermione whispered, "you wanted me to look like a mess."

Draco felt himself smile. "Yes. Funny how things change."

When Blaise woke up that morning he felt like he'd been hit by a stampede of hippogriffs. His head hurt and he tasted blood in his mouth. Did he get into a fight last night?

He sat up in bed and blinked as he looked around his room. What happened last night? Try as he might he couldn't remember. It was just…some black hole of missing events. And it bothered him. In all likelihood he probably got drunk last night as he usually did, but memory loss in the morning? He didn't do blackouts. His liquor tolerance was higher than any normal person's and the aftereffects he should've gotten were either non-existent or at a minimum. Something had happened to him, and damn it he was going to figure out what it was.

Blaise suddenly gripped his arm and shut his eyes when his arm burned. He ditched his bed quickly, grabbed his wand, and headed to the nearest fireplace so that he could Floo to Malfoy Manor. When he got there it was quiet –eerily so. There was the assembly of a few Deatheaters, but upper-level ones. Bellatrix met his eye as he walked across the foyer and she smiled in a way that made his insides squirm.

When Blaise made it to Voldemort's room, he found the man on his feet and wearing his best robe. He must've been getting ready to travel. He always did for a week every two months. Had two months even gone by already for him to be taking another trip? Maybe. Even around that his mind felt fried.

"My lord," Blaise said with a small bow. Voldemort turned to him with what should've been tight lips and fixed him with a harsh gaze.

"Your progress on Draco. I want news now."

Blaise held in his gulp. He knew that Draco had fled roughly twenty-four hours ago. A little over than that even. But there were gaps. He remembered the night that idiot friend of his fled with the mudblood. He remembered…helping him further escape. Pucey… Pucey was on the search team for Draco. But after that, there were black spots on his memory that he couldn't account for and it was not due to drinking.

"At the moment there's nothing-" Blaise dropped to his knees quicker than he could blink when Voldemort sent a vicious Crucio his way. He writhed on the floor, his body arching in unnatural ways, his teeth clamped down hard as it felt like knives were stabbing in and out of him.

And then it stopped.

Blaise panted and breathed in dust from the floor. "I… I'll find him, my lord."

"You don't have a choice." Voldemort hissed.

The room became quiet for a moment and Blaise flinched as Voldemort walked passed him and his cloak floated past his skin accidentally.

"I have duties to attend to." He said. "I will be gone for a week."

Blaise held in his grunt when Voldemort knelt beside him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"You will not grow lax in my absence." Voldemort ordered. "I expect to find Draco bloodied and on the brink of death upon my return. If I don't, rest assured that you will be."

Voldemort roughly let Blaise go and then headed towards the door. He paused though, and said one last thing before leaving.

"Before you go, do check on Lucius in the dungeon. Make sure that he's taking care of his task."

Blaise looked up in time to see Voldemort's retreating form. He was being put in charge of Lucius now? What for? Lucius was an upper level Deatheater much like others of his generation. He was trusted to take care of tasks on his own, so why did Blaise have to watch him?

Of course, it wasn't his place to question him. Instead, Blaise got his bearings after his legs buckled under a few times and headed towards the dungeons. Voldemort and his inner circle were gone and so he allowed himself to show pain and his dismay that he could be dead in a week.

Damn I need drink… Blaise thought as he took the stairs one at a time. The first thing he heard was whispering. The next thing he heard was crying. He scrunched his brows together once he got a clear view of the dungeons and his eyes went wide at what he saw.

Narcissa, sitting in a cell, bruised and bleeding all over. Lucius was in there with her, his wand set in his hand. The sight made Blaise want to wretch.

"If I thought you loved anyone, I thought it would be her." Blaise found himself saying. It was supposed to be in his head, but the words slipped out of his mouth with little effort. Lucius whirled himself around, ready to strike, but Narcissa latched onto his arm with an amazing strength someone who underwent torturing shouldn't have had.

"Leave him be, Lucius."

"But he could tell-"

"He won't tell anyone. Look at him. He's hardly like the others."

Blaise took a step forward. "What's going on here?"

"What are you doing down here, boy?" Lucius countered. Blaise huffed.

"The Dark Lord sent me to make sure you were completing your task." Blaise answered. He took another look at Narcissa and smirked. He could finally see the faint appearance of Glamour Charms on her skin. "Obviously you're not. He'll be able to tell the difference, you know."

"By then she won't be here for him to notice."

Blaise's brows rose. "You…you plan on letting her go?" His surprise gave way to anger and he scowled. "And yet you were going to capture Draco? You insensitive little-"

"Don't assume things you know nothing about!" Lucius snapped at him. "I had hoped to capture my son, yes, but not for the fatal end you suspect. Out there he is dead no matter what, but here? Here he had a chance. I had wanted to reason with the Dark Lord."

"Reason? Reason?" Blaise scoffed. "There is no reasoning with the Dark Lord. It's either his way or it's his way."

Lucius huffed. "You share the same sentiments my wife did. She took it upon herself to impersonate me in order to let Draco go free should she find him." He sighed and looked back at Narcissa who was looking up at him fondly. "Now look at the predicament you've found yourself in."

"And I would do it again." Narcissa said with a proud lift of her chin. "He's safe with them, Lucius. Safe with her."

Lucius scowled deeply. "Safe with that mudblood? It's her fault he's even in this mess."

"Agreed," Blaise added.

Narcissa frowned. So blinded they were by hate, by blood, by prejudices that shouldn't matter in terms of life or death. She sighed and turned her eyes on Blaise.

"You want to make sure he lives too, don't you?"

Blaise followed suit in her frown and shuffled his feet. "The bloody idiot's my best friend. Of course I don't want him dead."

"What are you doing to ensure that he lives then?" Lucius asked. "The Dark Lord put you in charge of finding him."

"…Fake his death, but first I have to find him. I have a one week deadline to do so or else it's me that's on the chopping block. What are you going to do about her?"

"I have to make arrangements somewhere for her to go, but I have a week deadline as well. After you find and detrain Draco, he can go with her."

"Good. I suppose the countdown starts now then."

Author's note: As I write this chapter, I realize that things are coming to a climax and are going to start wrapping up rather soon! I haven't written it yet, but I can see how the rest is going to play out. I'll sure miss this when it's over! I'm horrible at estimating an end chapter, but let's go and shoot for 45?

Thanks everyone! :)

Replies to Guests

Victoria: Well, with this chapter, we know that Adrian's going to find a way to get his girl out. Yey! And Blaise, well, I think he has a set agenda here now. And with a Lucius twist, how fun! And yes, Hermione likes him, but alas, Draco's got some serious commitment issues. And well, he is a tad possessive ;).