Author's Note: Thanks tons to my lovely reviewers: Frogster, 4fanci, Musicangel913, I was BOTWP, siewchee12345, cmtaylor531, jperks, and fuzzy6. Extra thank you to I was BOTWP for pointing out I forgot to write what Draco wore to the theatre in the last chapter. I have updated that (if anyone is curious) and as compensation, here is the requested scene where Hermione explains to Draco how she broke into Gringotts disguised as Bellatrix...

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"It looks exactly as it's supposed to," Hermione breathed in relief as she bent over the cauldron full of the nearly completed potion. It was the color of split-pea soup, but thin and watery-looking. Glancing at the digital numbers on the clock of her microwave, she announced, "Harry should be here in an hour or so. We will have to add in the last bunch of ingredients and let it boil for another forty minutes. With any luck, after that, we add the Formatogoria and the potion will turn silver."

Draco commented, "This is a very finicky potion."

"It's still not as bad as brewing a Polyjuice…"

He frowned, "When have you brewed a Polyjuice?"

Hermione giggled. "Remind me to tell you about second year sometime."

"How about you tell me now?"

She shook her head stubbornly, eyes still glittering with the memory.

"Tell me about breaking into Gringotts then," he requested.

Her eyes widened, "How do you know about that?"

"It's on your bloody Chocolate Frog Card, Hermione, literally everyone knows about it – just not how you did it."

Shuddering, Hermione admitted, "I can't stand those silly cards. Very well. I'll put on some tea first. Would you like some?"

Once they'd settled onto the couch, each with a steaming mug of tea, Hermione drew a deep breath and began, "It was during the War. Harry, Ron and I were hunting horcruxes. We had four more to find and destroy, that we knew of. Things were pretty dark."

Draco remembered that year too well. He'd been pulled from Hogwarts to live at the Manor full-time. More days than not, the Dark Lord had stayed there, too. It had been a sleepless year, coated in the blood of both the innocent and guilty alike.

"Harry knew Voldemort made some of his horcruxes out of items that once belonged to the founders of Hogwarts." Hermione's eyes were staring ahead as she practically recited, "The horcrux inside Slytherin's locket tried to kill Ron, but he destroyed it with the Sword of Gryffindor."

"Hang on," Draco interrupted, "with a sword?"

She nodded, "The Sword of Gryffindor presents itself to any worthy Gryffindor in need of aid." In her head, Hermione added, Or placed before you secretly by Severus Snape.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course it does."

Hermione continued, "Then we accidentally broke the taboo and got caught by the Snatchers. They recognized Harry because of his scar, even after I hexed his face to try to hide his identity."

Normally, Draco would have savored the image of Hermione hexing Harry's face, no matter the reasoning behind it, but he couldn't at that moment because he knew the next part of the story all too well. "They brought you to the Manor. The Snatchers did."

Nodding, Hermione continued, "They did. You will remember Bellatrix tortured me somewhat extensively." The rest came out in a rush, "Well, after we were rescued, we spent some time recovering at Ron's brother's house. It was there that we decided another one of the horcruxes had to be hidden in Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts. She'd been so upset that we had the Sword of Gryffindor... and one of the things she repeatedly asked me while she was torturing me, was what else we had taken from her vault. We knew we had to get in there."

"Hang on. You not only broke into Gringotts... but you broke into the Lestrange vault?" Draco questioned incredulously.

"Yes," she confirmed, "but we needed a disguise. Harry and Griphook hid under the invisibility cloak and we transfigured Ron's face to make him look sufficiently different. I used a hair I found on my jumper after the incident at the Manor to Polyjuice myself into Bellatrix. You may not remember, but she had also been disarmed, and I had her wand…"

Draco was thunderstruck. "You… turned into Bellatrix? After she'd tortured you? You used her wand?"

"It made a convincing disguise," Hermione said thoughtfully, "though Harry still had to Imperius one of the goblins at the bank… but we were in."

Draco was silent for a moment, digesting what she'd told him. Once he'd recovered, he quipped, "I always knew Potter was suicidal but I never would have suspected it of you... So, then, you were in Gringotts. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes. A cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff was stored there on a high shelf in the back. We were almost suffocated and burned to death because of the Gemino and Flagrante curses employed to stop thieves, but we were able to make it out of the vault. At that point though, the bank knew we were there and there were security guards trying to hex us from every angle. We escaped the only way it seemed we could: we released one of the guard dragons and climbed onto its back. It was blind, but it broke through into the London skies… and the rest is history."

"It's true?" he gaped. "You escaped on a bloody dragon?"

She laughed again, "It does sound rather unbelievable."

He shook his head in raw incredulity. "And the horcrux?"

"Ron and I snuck down into the Chamber of Secrets during the Battle of Hogwarts…"

"The actual Chamber of Secrets?" Draco interrupted. "It's a real place?"

"Yes, Harry defeated the basilisk down there in second year," Hermione answered patiently. "Anyway, Ron and I went there to collect some of the basilisk fangs that were still down there. Ron told me I needed to destroy Hufflepuff's cup, since he had done Slytherin's locket. It was… terrifying, how it tried to fight back, but I did it."

"You did it?"

"Ron told me I could. He really believed in me," she answered. "He was right."

Brooding, Draco's thumb drew small circles on the side of the ceramic mug. He recalled Weasley's threat that day in the Ministry's dreary holding cell: Don't touch her, don't talk to her, don't even look at her.

"He cares about you," Draco sneered. He was suddenly, inexplicably jealous – for the first time in his life – of Ron Weasley.

Hermione cocked her head to the side a little as she regarded Draco, "Of course he does. We're friends."

"You were with him for a long time. As more than friends."

"We dated for over three years, if that's what you mean," she sniffed, clutching her mug tightly and gently inhaling the rising tendrils of steam. "Even though he walked out on me the way he did, we're still friends."

Even though he walked out on me the way he did…

Draco's head was spinning with the realization that when he'd wrenched himself away from Hermione two nights ago, he'd really been not much better than Weasley. He had left, too. An unknown emotion trickled into his consciousness and with a jolt, he realized it was shame. He quickly buried it.

"Harry should be here any moment."

The words snapped Draco from his realization and a creeping sense of dread settled into the pit of his stomach. For a blissful hour, he'd been able to escape the gnawing pestilence that was eating away at the fabric of his soul – but now, the potion was almost complete. They would have an answer, and he wasn't sure what he wanted it to be.

Draco was pretty convinced Lestrange had enacted the blood grudge, despite that he'd always assumed the man was incapable of fighting his own battles since he'd hid behind his bloodthirsty brothers for much of his life. The potion's positive result would prove that Lestrange wasn't merely as ruthless as the rest of his family, but also far more cunning – albeit cowardly – than either of his brothers had been.

On the other hand, a piece of advice Lucius had given Draco once floated to the forefront of his mind: never underestimate a coward backed into a corner.

Draco thought that was probably sound advice.

All too soon, Harry arrived. He didn't seem surprised at Draco's presence, but he was wary of it nonetheless.

"Ginny's minding Teddy by herself tonight," Harry explained as Hermione made him a cup of tea. "She says it will be good practice for when the baby comes."

Draco, who had just taken a sip of his own tea, spluttered. Potter is having a child? The other two both stoically ignored him.

"Teddy is so sweet… but, Harry, any child of yours and Ginny's is going to be such a troublemaker. I hope you're ready for that." She eyed his hair, which was spectacularly messy just then, "Not to mention, hope he or she gets Ginny's hair instead of yours."

Draco snickered from his seat on the couch. Harry's gaze turned slowly toward him, daring him to say something. "Something funny, Malfoy?"

Smirking, Draco answered, "It's not my fault it looks like a rabid bat tried to nest in your hair, Potter."

Shaking his head, Harry turned back to Hermione, looking forlorn that she'd chosen Draco as a houseguest. She tilted her head in silent apology while futilely attempting to smother her laughter into the back of her hand. Her body shook, causing her curls to spill around her shoulders.

At half past eight, the potion was nearly ready. Hermione carefully dropped the three Formatogoria blossoms into the cauldron and held her breath. The brew rippled slightly around the additions until they sank under the surface. The viscous liquid seemed to shimmer for a moment before becoming a soft silvery color.

"It's perfect," Hermione breathed excitedly. She referenced the large, leather-bound book with the recipe, just in case.

Harry produced the bag full of the vials of Lestrange blood and set them all out on the table.

"You should know, there's a chance Perseus never got around to adding his own blood to this mix," Draco warned. "It's usually the patriarch that does this, and while he is that now, he wasn't always. He had two older brothers."

Hermione's nose wrinkled, "What a foul tradition."

Draco nodded, "My family always thought so, too."

Not feel particularly inclined toward purebloods at that moment, Hermione commented, "So there is something creepy and supremacist your family didn't do…"

Harry suppressed a laugh while Draco's eyebrows contracted. "Believe it or not, yes," he retorted irritably. Then, because he was both determined to ignore the affront and impatient to get an answer, he said, "We should test the freshest-looking samples first."

Hermione picked up an ancient glass vial and titled it to the side. The blood within remained in place, "This one is completely dried up."

"Set it aside," Draco suggested. He picked one up, checked the bottom, then added it to her discard collection, "That one's labeled with a different name."

It was lucky they were able to be rid of some of the vials right away, because they were still left with twenty-two to test. They took a few droplets of blood from each of the vials and arranged them in a rack of ampoules.

"Add it slowly," Hermione hissed when Harry accidentally dumped too much blood into one. "This isn't Potions class, Harry."

"Sorry," he muttered, pouring some back into the original vial and setting it aside.

Draco bit back a grating insult that came like second nature; it wouldn't do to dwell on school rivalries just then. Hermione was right – this wasn't Potions class. Draco would not be rewarded for goading Potter the way he had been when Snape had been their professor.

They tested the blood, five at a time. The first set all turned orange when the potion was added, which according to the book meant a negative result.

The second set was much the same, but Hermione grew agitated when one sample became what she deemed more yellow than orange. Harry vaguely humored her while she dithered about what it meant, but Draco shut her up when he snapped that it was likely due to contamination of the blood rather than a positive result.

In the third batch, their fifth sample turned yellow, then brown, then black.

"Oh my," Hermione gasped, her eyes wide. She buried her nose in the book to determine this really had been the result they were looking for.

It was him, then, Draco concluded, his mouth set into a firm line. He had felt that it was so, but the physical proof sent his blood boiling. Lestrange killed them both.