Draco had no idea where everyone else had vaporized to so he went straight to Malfoy Manor. Having guessed right, he saw all the Death Eaters crowded together in the drawing room. The numbers had grown exponentially since Voldemort came back two years before.

He sighed. He'd tried so hard. Dumbledore was dead, anyone could enter Draco's home as they pleased, and Hermione was probably very fed up with him for not having any answers. Well, maybe he could fix that last bit. He reached into his pocket and frowned; it was empty. Where was the coin? He reached into his other pocket and felt the shrunken cloak and the Gaunt ring, but no coin.

"I sense success." It was a very familiar high-pitched voice that pierced Draco's skin for the first time since that previous summer. Barefooted, the creature walked into the room. As he approached the chair at the head of the table, he spoke. "The Malfoys have been among my most supportive since my early days as Lord Voldemort. Imagine my surprise when nearly two decades ago, Lucius attempted to demonstrate his superiority. And barely half a year after the newest Malfoy member was inducted into his present position, his mother escaped with the help of Gryffindor's favorites. Tell me, Draco. Will you betray me as did your parents?"

Draco violently shook his head. "Never, my lord. I don't know what got into them, but I can assure you that I won't be making the same mistakes they did."

Voldemort's lips curled up in a nasty mocking smile. "Is that so? From what I hear, you were on the verge of letting Dumbledore escape."

Draco hung his head. "I was afraid. I've never killed a man before, and I didn't quite understand why Dumbledore was behaving as he was."

"I suppose I cannot blame you for your incompetence. The French have always been known to surrender." The room broke into laughter. "Of course, if it weren't for Severus, we would still have a massive problem on our hands, but with the headmaster of Hogwarts gone, Dumbledore is ours!" This time, the Death Eaters cheered. "You will have other chances, dear boy. Perhaps when we find your parents, you can give them a firsthand lesson on the cost of betrayal."

Tom Riddle had been standing this entire time and finally took his seat. "Severus, I shall have to congratulate you on a job well done. I must say I doubted you were fully devoted to our cause."

Draco frowned. Was Voldemort suspicious of Snape all these years? Did Dumbledore sacrifice himself so that Snape could prove his loyalty to Voldemort? This would certainly make more sense.

"You see," the Dark Lord continued, "I fear that there is a mole among us. How else could they have gained access to knowledge on Sirius Black's whereabouts? And how were they able to free the prisoners and later free the squibborn from such a remote location while killing one of our own—a werewolf, no less—and completely erasing another's memory? As an aside, I have restored Bellatrix as much as possible, forcing her to assume the identity of the person she was, even if she will never remember why she became that witch."

So Bellatrix didn't really remember anything. That was an upside. Unfortunately, Draco had underestimated Voldemort's brainpower.

"But back to my original point: someone in this very room has been working against me, whether it be with the Order or alone. Only a Death Eater could enter Bellatrix and Fenrir's workshop, especially without knowing where it even was. Only a Death Eater could have had access to Malfoy Manor at the time of Narcissa Malfoy's imprisonment. Why, if Draco weren't so young and inexperienced, I might have believed it was him!" This elicited more laughter as Draco uncomfortably stood still, doing his best to look frightened.

But perhaps he should have been. Because Voldemort wasn't stupid, and he might know a great deal more than he was leading on.

"For now, the only news I have is that Malfoy Manor will be occupied by Draco, who is finally of age, and an appointed guardian, as he is still in school."

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts," Draco blurted.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the rising seventh year. "I suppose you think you are too advanced to return? Or are you afraid of what your peers will have to say to you?"

It was more that being even remotely close to Hermione would endanger her, not to mention all the work Draco had to do to find the Horcrux, and he couldn't do that at school, which Voldemort would most certainly take over. But of course, he kept this to himself and instead voiced, "I couldn't care one bit about what the others have got to say. I stepped up to the challenge while they all cried about their disappointing OWL scores. I'm staying home next year to prepare for the inevitable final battle. Perhaps I can finally get rid of some Mudblods." Draco did his best to look as maniacally sane as possible, quite a difficult expression to achieve once you realized how little the name "maniacally sane" made sense.

Fortunately, his acting worked. The Dark Lord said, "Very well. You shall be permitted to stay home alone, but I will still call meetings in this very room. Oh, I nearly forgot. This coming year, Hogwarts will be welcoming not only the Carrows as their Muggles Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, but also Severus as the headmaster."

The wizard in question remained expressionless and bowed his head to Voldemort.

"I beg your pardon, my lord, but Hogwarts already has a Muggle Studies teacher," Draco reminded him.

Voldemort only smirked and replied, "Indeed...for now."

At the very school they were speaking of, Hermione was lingering in the by the Black Lake the day after Dumbledore's death. A respectfully appropriate funeral for the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had seen had just concluded and the attendees were filing out. She remembered distinctly the horror she had felt when Harry dragged her to Dumbledore's body the previous night. There he lay, the only man Voldemort had ever feared, taken down by none other than the only man Dumbledore truly trusted, in Hermione's opinion. Harry had found the locket from the cave in Dumbledore's pocket and explained everything that went down at the cave before opening the locket to find a note from R.A.B that basically said that the locket was fake.

All that trouble for nothing.

But what disturbed Hermione the most was Draco. What could have gone so badly wrong that he couldn't keep Snape from killing Dumbledore? Hermione had been messaging him constantly, but he wouldn't answer his fake Sickle. She remembered the lost look in his eyes, as if Draco Malfoy was no longer back.

"In the end, he couldn't do it," Harry had told her, to her relief. Of course he couldn't do it. Nor could he risk his life to save the best wizard since Merlin in front of Death Eaters. Hermione had to wonder why Dumbledore had let himself die so easily. She knew she could protect himself.

"He didn't have his wand," Harry had reasoned before the funeral, explaining the fuss McGonagall had made when she couldn't find it anywhere in sight. However, Hermione had noted that Dumbledore was fully capable of escaping from a situation like that, as he had the previous year when cornered by Umbridge and Cornelius Fudge.

She had unconsciously walked to Hagrid's hut—or what remained of it, anyway. Seeing the half-giant's face when he saw his home killed Hermione, but it was much worse to see his reaction to Dumbledore's lifeless body. She would take her earlier words back: Dumbledore didn't just trust Snape, but, as he quite often remarked, he would trust Hagrid with his life.

"How are you holding up?"

Hermione jumped. It was only Ginny, seemingly glum.

"I want answers," Hermione truthfully responded, "same as everyone else."

"And Draco?"

She sighed. "I haven't heard from him. Who knows what could've happened? He might be hard pressed to find himself free from Voldemort's sight. After all, Draco merely disarmed Dumbledore, according to Harry."

"You should be glad he's not a killer, for one, and that he's not dead."

"He might be dead," Hermione considered.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You don't really believe that."

Hermione shook her head. "So, I know how Harry's dealing with all of this. Has he said anything to you?"

It was Ginny's turn to sigh. "He broke up with me. He doesn't want to put my life at risk unnecessarily."

"You're very understanding about this."

"Well, I don't suppose he's told you his plan to not return to Hogwarts and go Horcrux-hunting instead."

"What?!"

"Not to mention that Mum's been on my case about how important school is, regardless of who's in charge."

Hermione groaned. "Harry and his stupid hero complex! If he thinks he's going anywhere without me then he's gravely mistaken."

Ginny laughed. "Ron said that too."

"You told Ron?"

Ginny nodded. "Just after Harry told me. My dear brother went to find him."

"I suppose I've got to go do the same—hey, what's that?" Something was glinting in the sunlight. Ginny rushed forward and picked it up, scrutinizing it.

"Tell me you're fine," Ginny read. She looked up. "Looks an awful lot like a Sickle version of those fake Galleons you gave us for the DA."

Hermione's face lit up as the snatched it from the redhead. "It's Draco's Sickle. He must have dropped it last night."

"You look rather excited for someone who's lost her only form of communication with her boyfriend."

"Most irritable," Hermione corrected. "And I'm not excited. Just relieved that he's not avoiding my messages."

Ginny glanced at her watch. "We'd better head inside. The train should be leaving soon."

After Hermione had gotten everything ready, she made her way down to the Slytherin commons and hid until some second years left the common room before slipping in. She found Draco's room and went inside. His things had been neatly packed for today's train. Hermione shrunk the trunks and next went to the Owlery to collect Duchess. Having retrieved her, Hermione enlarged the trunks and sent everything to Hogsmeade with a note that read, "Return to Malfoy Manor."

Draco received his luggage the very next day, without a doubt in his mind as to who sent them. As he put them away, he remembered his job to stay away from Hermione. Voldemort may have let Draco have the manor to himself, but by no means was Draco truly free. Surely his master planned on having eyes on him at all times.

SQUAWK!

Draco had to duck down to avoid the flying bird. To his shock, it was Fawkes.

"How the bloody hell did you find me?" Draco asked it, but it seemed that Fawkes had taken a liking to Duchess, resting on Draco's desk.

"It's going to be a long year," Draco muttered to himself, as he gazed out the window at the peaceful atmosphere outside.

THE END

A/N: Ah, it's finally done! Now I've only got one book left!