There was an arm around her waist. That was the first thought Hermione had when she woke up. There was an arm around her waist. And at first, she thought it was Draco's. She forgot that Harry was back, or that Draco knew the truth now, or that they were in the rebel camp. For a split second, she thought it was before, when she would wake up like this often, with an arm around her waist, Draco's arm.

It took her a moment to realize it was Harry's, that they had rolled in their sleep, and that it was her best friend sleeping next to her, not her lover. She couldn't blame him, of course. She knew she couldn't. They were sleeping. And she was sure Harry needed some connection postmortem. But for a split second, she hated him for that, for giving her that fleeting moment of hope, of fantasy. And for crushing that hope when she realized it was not Draco. She knew it wasn't his fault, and she would never tell him of her treacherous thoughts, but there they were, spelled out black and white for her. That life was over for her now. She would never wake up with Draco's arm around her again.

Harry bristled awake when he felt her move. He looked around groggy at first before he too remembered where they were. "Morning," he said, yawning loudly.

She just smiled at him and got up, walking over to the little sink in their magical tent. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. It was weird for her, seeing herself in the mirror again. It had only been a year , but it had been a different face looking back at her. She was glad she was back. She felt like herself again.

"Hermione, we need to talk," Harry said, sitting up in the bed.

"Okay," she turned to face him. She was pretty sure she knew what he wanted to talk about. She was sure the same thought had been on her mind.

"Are we sure about this?" he asked. "I mean, I know they have a lot of people here, but we had more before, and we lost. Do you really think they can end this?"

"No, Harry," she went and sat next to him. "I think we are going to lose more than half the people out there. I think we're about to fight with a lot of people with no where else to go. But I think you can end this. And I think all those people, all those refugees, I think they will be glad to fight to the last one of them, because there is no other choice. You've been dead, but the rest of us have seen the world under Voldemort, and I think they will give their lives to change it. I think they will give their lives so that you can change it."

He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "But Ginny as their leader?" he said softly. "I mean, it's Ginny."

"I know," she conceded. "But we've all grown a lot in this past year. We don't know that girl anymore. We don't know any of those people anymore. But I hope to God that we have the chance to know them again."

He groaned and fell back in the bed. "I thought we were done with this," he said in frustration. "I thought we were done with losing people and wondering which of our friends we would see again."

"I wish we were," she said sadly. "But, until this is over, until Voldemort is dead, I don't think we'll be able to be done with it."

"Well said," George walked into the tent. "Sorry for interrupting. Well I'm not, but mum would kill me if I weren't polite."

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's nice to know you only have a polite side because you fear facing your own mother, George."

"We all have our qualms," he shrugged with a smirk. "Anyway, if you two are done being all woe is me, I think you should follow me."

There was only a slight change in his tone, but it was enough to worry her. "What happened?"

"We've had another visitor," he said vaguely. "Come on, you'll want to see for yourself."

They exchanged a look and followed him out quickly. They were so anxious about who it could be that they almost didn't notice the stares they got as they walked. Almost.

She moved closer to Harry and whispered, "I wish they'd find something better to gawk at. Like maybe new spells they can use to stay alive."

"It's not everyday people come back from the dead, let alone the answer to all their prayers," George said. "Cut 'em some slack, you two are the first sign of hope they've had in a year."

She said nothing after that as they followed him to Ginny's tent. She hadn't the faintest who it could be, unless another of their friends had mysteriously risen from the dead after all this time. But somehow, she thought that unlikely.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she would have never guessed who it actually was.

Sitting tied to a chair, his face bloody and his eye swollen was a wizard she had come to know very well, one she shouldn't have been surprised to see really.

"Granger, finally," Blaise Zabini said as he spit blood out. "Can you please tell them I'm one of the good guys now so they stop messing up my highly attractive and expensively insured face?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Blaise?" Hermione asked as she pressed a cold wet cloth to his face. It was badly bruised, and she knew she could fix him up with a few simple charms right as day, but he had refused. Let them know I where their revenge with honor, he had said.

"And how did you find us?" Harry asked.

"And more importantly, can you tell me where you insured your face?" George asked with a serious face. "I seriously need to get that. A face like this, it would be a shame for the ladies if something happened?"

She rolled her eyes at him, though she was glad to know he had not changed as much as she thought. He had been the first to wholeheartedly accept Hermione and Harry's story about Blaise's true allegiance. Just like a Weasley.

But not every Weasley felt the same way. Ginny had yet to lower her wand or her gaze. "Yes, Zabini," she said coldly. She had long since dismissed everyone but a few from the tent, but her defenses were still clearly up. "Tell us how you found us."

"Same way Granger and Potter did," he shrugged. "I had a general idea of where to look and then it was just acknowledging my deference from the Dark Lord and letting you lot find me, tie me up, and beat the bloody crap out of me until Granger showed up. Which reminds me, you had to sleep in today, didn't you, Granger? Of all the days, today had to be the day to get rid of those dark spots below your eyes."

"Well if you had told me you were coming," she snapped at him.

He just smirked. "Ah, there's the Gryffindor spirit I've missed all year."

She hitched her breath as her eyes widened, sharing a glance with Harry. Before they had come here, they had decided they would leave out what she had been doing for the past year until absolutely necessary. They agreed it would just cause trouble and questions of her loyalty if it was found out. Of course, that was before they knew George and Ginny were part of the rebels. Now, it was more a chance to avoid the looks she knew her old friends would give her. Not that she was ashamed that she loved Draco, because she wasn't. But she knew they wouldn't understand. And they were at such a precarious time as it was. She didn't want to do anything to ruin their chances of victory.

"You've seen each other?" Ginny caught on first.

"You didn't tell them?" Blaise raised an eyebrow at her.

She just shook her head slightly. "I was going to, but I didn't get a chance yet."

"Tell us what?" George said warily, his gaze hard on her.

"Um..." She started.

"Hermione was pretending to date Zabini for a while to get information," Harry cut her off.

"You expect us to believe Zabini would even consider dating a Mudblood?" Ginny laughed coldly.

She felt like she had been slapped. Sure, she had heard the term so many times, and she knew letting it affect her was just giving the derogatory term meaning, but it hurt to hear Ginny say it. Everyone else looked stunned, including George.

Blaise reacted first. His face remained calm. "I never figured you to turn on your best friend, Weaslette," he said, his tone just as cold. "Hermione is twice the witch you'll ever be, and that's with her Muggle blood."

Ginny looked taken back. "I wasn't trying to hurt her," she said, though it was not an apology. "I was simply acknowledging what your lot considers her."

"My lot," he said. "Not me." They glared at each other.

Harry squeezed her hand. "Whatever you believe, Ginny," he said, bringing back the conversation around. She smiled gratefully at him. "It's the truth. And that's how we found you. So you can believe it or not, but those are the facts."

"And why would you turn?" she asked Zabini. "Aren't you too busy living in pure blood heaven right now?"

"Regardless of your misguided thoughts, Weaslette, being a Death eater is no walk in the park," he said. "Some of us are in it simply to keep our lives. And frankly, I'm tired of living like that."

"And he's going to help us, so let's move on," Harry said firmly.

George just nodded and leaned back in his chair. "This will definitely give us more intel at least," he said, kicking his feet up.

"Intel I can do," Zabini smirked. "But first, I could really use a chance to properly clean up. I don't know about you lot, but I'd rather not sit around in my own blood for too long."

"No," Ginny said, standing. "You'd rather sit around in the blood of others." She turned and stormed out of the tent.

Everyone was silent. "When did Weaslette become such a hardass?" Blaise asked.

"Lay off, Blaise," Hermione glared at him. "You might not like the life you live, but it's a hell of a lot more comfortable than we who lost."

She stood to follow Ginny, but Harry stopped her. "I'll go," he said. "I'd like a chance to talk her alone."

She just nodded and watched him follow Ginny out. Zabini sat back. "Not that two of the three unwanted people have left," he looked directly at George with a smirk. There was no malice in his voice.

George just rolled his eyes. "I suppose I can take a hint," he stood and looked at Hermione. "Call if you need me," he said, his eyes very telling. Despite his forthcomings, he still did not fully trust Zabini. Still, it was clear he was going to follow Harry and Hermione's lead.

Blaise waited till he left to speak. "Merlin, to see the size of the rebel force," he whistled. "I can honestly tell you that none of us ever imagined this."

"I know," she said. "I can't believe it either."

"It is good to see you, Granger," he said, putting his feet up on the table. "I wasn't exactly sure you had made it here alive."

"Blaise, what are you doing here?" She asked now that they were alone. Because she had a feeling he hadn't been telling the full truth before. But she was sure he wouldn't have wanted to share with the group.

"I told you why I was doing this, Granger," he said simply. "I'm just here to make sure it happens."

"You're here to make sure you get off on charges afterwards?" She raised an eyebrow at him. Why didn't she believe that?

"Okay, since you're pulling my leg," he shrugged. "I'm here to make sure I make it out of this alive." He paused for a second. "And for you."

"Me?"

"I am under strict orders to protect you at all costs."

"What?" she stared at him.

"Well, when you told him your true identity, he figured out I knew, which was why we were so buddy buddy you and I," he said. "So he told me to come."

"For what?" her words were low, not trusting herself.

"To make sure you don't get yourself killed," he said.

"Why would he do that?"

"You know, Granger you're not exactly living up to your title as the brightest witch of our age," he smirked at her.

"Why, Blaise?" she asked again. She was shaking now.

"He didn't say, but I'm sure we can guess why."

"And you just came here? Knowing they might kill you? Knowing they probably would?"

"I knew you'd save me," he shrugged. "Besides, I couldn't say no to him."

"Because he's your best friend?" Draco had sent him - for her. A million thoughts were running through her mind, she couldn't even process them. How was she supposed to handle this? What did it mean?

"Because he's my brother," he said firmly. "We might not be blood, but we are brothers in everything that matters. I would do the same for him that you would do and have done for Potter. We grow up differently, us old pure blood families. We're thrown together at a young age. Draco and I grew up together and whatever image he's showing the world, I know what is in his heart, Granger. He's a good person underneath all the bullshit. He's a friend I've always relied on, one I know I can always count on. He was there for me in a time when no one else was, including my own mother. And I would give my life if he asked it."

"But he asked you to come here?" she asked again. He nodded and she stood. "I have to go."

She had to go to him. She had to ask him why. She had to look him in the eye while he told her. She had to know for sure. Because if what Blaise said was true, then maybe, just maybe he did love her. She thought back to when he said her name, when he had looked at her for the last time as herself. She knew she could die in the days to come. She knew there was a strong chance she wouldn't make it out of this war alive. But if what she hoped for was true, if he truly did love her, Hermione Granger, then maybe she had more to fight for than she had thought. Maybe she had a future to fight for too. Maybe she had mornings waking up with an arm around her waist. Maybe, just maybe, she had a reason to make sure she came out of this alive. But she had to hear it from him first. She would have to kill this spark of hope fast if it wasn't true. She couldn't afford to be distracted by something that wouldn't come true.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Granger," he said, stopping her.

"Why wouldn't I?" she demanded. "I have to find out what this means."

"Granger, stop," he stood too as she moved to leave the tent. "You can't."

"Why?"

"Because he won't be alone."

That made her turn around and face him. "What?"

"It's not what you think, Granger," he said sadly. "I almost wish it were though."

"Who is there with him, Blaise?" she asked slowly.

"I only just got out in the nick of time," he stalled. "Draco knew what was going to happen, and he got to me before it could."

"What happened?"

"Trust me, Granger, you don't want to know."

"Blaise." In a single word, she conveyed as much as she could. She was begging, and demanding. She was praying and giving up hope. She was breaking and drawing herself together. She needed to know, and she needed to know now. She knew it was bad, if it had Blaise this worked up.

It took him a moment to answer. "The Dark Lord has taken up residence at Malfoy Manor."

NEW CHAPTER! What did you guys think? Let me know :)