AN: Thanks so much for the positive feedback; it is really encouraging to know that you like this story (and this Draco).
Sorry for the slow updates. I am committed to finishing this!
Draco and Hermione stood at the head of a small army of Snatchers and Death-Eaters-in-Training. Hermione twirled her wand lazily in her hand, her smirk more suited to a Dark Lady than to a third of the Golden Trio. Moment's prior, she'd set one of their army's robes on fire when he didn't follow her order to practice his Disillusionment spell. Draco had spent years cultivating his own aristocratic glare and was confident his facade matched hers.
All of which belied the hours they had spent going through Hogsmeade, cajoling, pleading, and nudging with minor compulsions when the former strategies failed the residents to be somewhere else for the day. In the wee hours of the morning, Floos roared, Portkeys whisked, and pops of Apparition took their wizards to an old friend in Aberdeen they'd been dying to see, or that museum in London that nice couple had given them tickets to. "No more bystanders die," Hermione had insisted, her eyes wet and mouth hard. Draco hadn't had the heart to remind her they were fighting a literal war.
He squelched the desire to run his hands over his face. He was so tired. They'd used the Time Turner to sneak in a few hours of rest in between Hermione's spell-casting, monitoring their information set-up, and creating Plans B through M of back-ups. They'd liaised with Lucius-Draco couldn't even think of him as Father without the image of him revealing Stan Shunspike to Hermione and insisting she kill him flashing in his brain and making him want to vomit-about their plan and how they would signal their infiltration of the Order and their next steps. That was the part that made Draco's heart race. They were relying on people and people who didn't particularly like Draco for the next part of their plan. If they couldn't convince Potty and Weasel to work with them, or if they did but their tasks took too long…
He pinched himself, a reminder that Plans K through M dealt with that.
"Alright, remember that our goal is to make as much noise, smoke, light, and the rest to lure the Order here. You stay Disillusioned the entire time but create as much outward havoc as possible. No Apparition wards; no following civilians or Order members outside of Hogsmeade. I've promised my Aunt first dibs on… reprimanding… any disobedience," Draco drawled.
He wasn't sure if he or Hermione inspired more loathing at this point. It still felt odd, to be lumped with her and to trust her more than any of the lackeys on "his side." The litany of insults he had hurled at her marched through his head like little soldiers, mocking him.
"Disillusionment on three, two, one."
The horde of the Dark Lord's followers melted out of sight.
"And go," Hermione breathed.
The crunch of footsteps, followed half a minute later by the first sounds of explosions and light of fireworks signalled the attack on Hogsmeade had begun.
Draco resisted the urge to hug Hermione. In case this was the last he saw her. He didn't both out of a strange superstition it might make it so and to forestall the risk someone would see them. Weakness was deadly in this world.
** TR ** TR ** TR **
Draco and Hermione split their time reigning in their minions that had gotten overly enthusiastic in their task ("There is no need to burn down a perfectly good forest!") and casting some very nasty, showy, and-most importantly-loud spells against the Hogwarts wards. Hermione occasionally refreshed the illusions she'd set up that gave the impression that residents were fleeing and screaming. She had claimed the spells came out of her research on memory charms, but he'd noticed her trailing drops of blood when she came back from conducting the spell so he rather suspected it was more complicated and rather more… dark than that.
Draco was just about to ask her about it when a series of pops and a dull roar of anger from their own ravaging band signalled the arrival of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco glanced at his watch. 12 minutes. Rather slow response time if you asked him. He moved to block Hermione, who should have already started weaving the tendrils of the Imperius around the group looking for Potter, Weasley, or anyone who knew how to get to him.
A wave of deja vu swept over him. Standing here, useless while someone else carried out his job transported him instantly to the Astronomy Tower, confronting the strongest wizard of the 20th century and his own headmaster. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders. Hermione would skin him alive if he allowed her to be attacked because he was feeling sorry for himself.
Minutes crawled by. The fighting was intense if the shouts, screams, and flashes of colored light that daubed the morning sky were any indication. He wished they'd devised some way for him to tell how Hermione's casting was going. Potter might not even be present. That would be the smart thing to do, although their intel indicated he showed up briefly to most raids; Draco assumed he was vainly looking for Hermione. Typical Gryffindor.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on the back of his shoulder and the uncomfortable twist of Side-Along Apparition.
** TR ** TR ** TR **
Years of training and Quidditch practice allowed Draco to land on his feet and with his breakfast in his stomach. When he opened his eyes, he saw a his school-yard nemesis appear, wearing a placid expression. Draco jumped to work, setting up anti-Appartition wards, Notice-Me-Not spells, general defensive wards, and checking Potter for tracking charms. When he'd finished, he nodded at Hermione who looked rather disgusted-at herself or the glade or Potter-he wasn't sure. Under Hermione's control, Potter tossed his wand across to them, Draco catching it with ease.
Moments later, Potter came out of his Imperius induced haze and reached reflexively for his wand. Seeing it in Draco's hands, he immediately cut backwards away from them.
"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried.
The boy wonder didn't turn until he had reached the bounds of the area Draco had set up and literally bounced off.
"Who are you?" he spat.
"Hermione!" she cried. Her voice carried an anguish that surprised Draco and made a jealous piece of him flare up in anger. How could Potter's neglect elicit such emotion from her when she didn't remember meeting the guy? Would she throw herself into his arms, sobbing that the mean Slytherin has tortured her? He felt his face twisting into the sneer that Gryffindor's usually provoked.
"Last time I saw you, it was him," Potter ground out, pacing out the edge of his area and watching his wand with narrowed eyes.
"Harry, I know that. Malfoy went to try to get information from you, but when he learned about the Horcruxes, he realized that this was the only moment to turn against the Dark Lord. He filled me in on everything, and we're here to help."
Harry's eyes flicked away from his wand to meet Draco's eyes.
"'Filled her in?' So the memory loss you mentioned wasn't a lie."
Both Draco and Hermione nodded.
"Bellatrix was torturing me and then my memory was just gone; Draco claimed he could turn me to the Dark Lord's service to save my life. He nursed me back to health, nearly got me killed again, nursed me back to health again, and well, here we are. I've been reading everything I can get my hands on to catch up." Hermione's words came out in a rush, much closer to the school-girl he remembered than the accomplished, fearless witch he'd plotted with only hours before.
"That sounds like our Hermione," Harry whispered, his eyes finally settling back on Hermione.
"I'm sorry I Imperiused you, Harry. We didn't know how else to contact you or to talk to you in a group that wouldn't get Draco killed. We'd like to combine forces; we have a Time Turner, about 13 back-up plans, monitoring in Malfoy Manor on the Dark Lord's activities, access to the Manor, and probably access to the Horcrux that Bellatrix Lestrange has."
Draco winced a little at her straight-forward negotiation. She had steadfastly refused his recommendations.
"Obviously, we'll do whatever you want to convince you that we're on the same side," she nodded at Draco. He recognized the signal to get him to hand Potter's wand back but he felt as if an invisible hand prevented him from doing so. Potter with a wand was possibly more dangerous than either the Dark Lord or Dumbledore had been. He finally broke his mental spell and handed Potter his wand. His nemesis snatched it and held it in a defensive position immediately.
"You'll let me cast spells to remove disguises and then swear an Unbreakable Vow," he breathed.
Hermione's smile was one Draco hadn't seen in a long time, maybe since he'd given her that cursed ring. He swore he felt his heart crack a little that it was for Potter.
"Of course!" she enthused.
** TR ** TR ** TR **
A quarter-hour later, Hermione and Draco had been subjected to every revealing spell Potter could think of; he actually had seemed more reassured by Hermione's disappointment he didn't know more and suggestions for others he should have considered than any of the spells themselves. They had then cast an Unbreakable Vow to work together to bring about the defeat of Voldemort and his Death Eater operations. (It was Hermione who insisted on the last part).
The words of the vow seemed to still hang in the air, its magic settling into the three of them when Potter rushed over and hugged Hermione. He was still holding her, smiling at her with that dopey happy Gryffindor expression when Draco suddenly found his fist slamming into the Boy-Who-Lived's face.