As Harry followed behind Malfoy through, what felt like an endless amount of long hallways, he became increasingly aware that he was without a wand. It was difficult to ignore the bubbling anticipation and weariness he felt, though he couldn't be certain if this was a result of following someone, who until very recently, fought for and housed the very lunatic trying to kill him, or if the feeling was just heightened from his predictable level of paranoia that he knew would never fully disappear. The moment they stepped into what Draco had referred to as Theo's study, his previous concerns were silenced as he took in the state of the disastrous room before him.

"This— is Theo's study?" Harry's voice dripped with disbelief and mild amusement as his eyes couldn't seem to remain on one specific array of nonsense before noticing another.

The room wasn't as grand as the others, nor was it as tidy. Where the common room was crisp and warm with accents of comfort, this room was a chaotic mess with dark walls and possibly wooden floors? Harry couldn't be sure as there was hardly enough room to walk through the mess to be certain what was underneath. He saw papers tossed about over a black grand oak desk, papers that upon closer inspection Harry realized were sheets of music. Across from the desk sat a small balcony with French doors looking out over a dreary landscape, several torn apart canvas's littered the balcony. The longer he tried to make sense of the room the more he found it puzzling that it could even be considered a study— much more of a place of destruction and unfinished projects.

"An obvious result of a slightly fractured, mildly disturbed wealthy wizard with destructive habits and an attention span of a toddler." Draco clipped, waving his hand lazily around the mess, clearly not as interested in the state of the room, but rather watching Harry with a weary expression, leaning against the grand desk with his arms firmly draped across his chest. "Don't ask me why he doesn't just use magic to tidy it up— he claims it's got something to do with his aesthetic— cluttered desk equals a brilliant mind, or some bullocks."

Harry noticed an odd clay structure that appeared to have been hand made sitting amongst a pile of others. He heard something crunch beneath his foot, realizing he had stepped on one of the structures that seemed to oddly resemble Merlin himself, or what Harry would imagine him to look like, though now it was cracked beyond recognition and Harry quickly jerked his foot back.

"Er— didn't mean to break that—"

Draco rolled his eyes, flicking his wand to piece it back together— though Harry was certain not in the correct way, as Merlin's pointed hat now resided somewhere near his nether regions and his nose resided somewhere on the sculptures back— and placing it amongst the other meaningless rubble.

Harry awkwardly stepped over another pile of random trinkets— (were those knitting needles?)— and moved to the bookcase behind the desk, smirking to himself as he found several texts on muggle theatre— Shakespear being the only one he truly recognized. Tucked in a corner behind a wooden chair, leaning against the wall was an acoustic guitar and what looked like several empty bottles of Firewhisky discarded around it.

Harry's eyes flickered to the desk, recognizing Theo's messy scribble over the parchment, forcing him to remember the way his heart would pound nervously in his chest on the odd days he would receive a random note from Theo during dinner or charms, or on his way to quidditch practice— the messaging always vague, but able to cause Harry to blush with embarrassment as he scanned the school grounds hoping no one noticed him receiving the note…

This is my third drafted note.

I wanted to write something witty or clever, but then you just walked pass me in your Quidditch uniform with that tosser captain of yours, Oliver Wood, and he was explaining something about 'going harder, faster, longer' and I couldn't resist to point this out (in case it slipped your observation, as we both know you're prone to miss the finer details)

You ride a stick chasing balls.

That's all.

P.S. Try and not fall off your broom this time. It's only slightly more embarrassing than what I imagine your face will look like reading this note.

xTVN

Does this mean you've abandoned your hatred for Quidditch and you're finally going to come to a match?

xHJP

Absolutely not.

P. S. Are you going to completely ignore my perfectly crafted innuendo? Very rude, Potter.

xTVN

Fine. You're hilarious. Happy?

xHJP

Not sure. I'm not certain I would understand the feeling if I were.

xTVN

Maybe if you came to the match to see me ride the stick and chase the balls you might experience the feeling?

xHJP

Points for gusto, but still a no.

xTVN

Because participating in something besides misery and self - loathing for more than an hour will kill you?

xHJP

If you must know... by attending your silly little match then expectations will be had of me to attend other social gatherings that I'd rather peel my skin off than attend, such expectations that I am certain I could never live up to— therefore I am saving everyone involved from immense disappointment… add it to the long list of my selfless acts to be accomplished before noon.

xTVN

Being an extremist must be very draining.

xHJP

I believe you've mistaken me for the witch beside you, the one with the bird nesting amongst the bush upon her head— To be an extremist, Potter, I would have to have a singular political view that advocates extreme action… Now, I exist in a constant state of having multiple contradicting political views and when have I ever acted extreme? The answer: never. As for Granger, her entire existence is an extreme call for action. Perhaps you could suggest she act on the monstrosity that is her hair before freeing any elves, hm?

xTVN

I give up…

See you after?

xHJP

Depends.

xTVN

On…?

xHJP

If you lose are you going to force me to listen to you describe the seven different illegal flying combinations Draco did to out fly you?

xTVN

That was one time and were not even playing Slytherin.

xHJP

Midnight?

xTVN

Midnight.

xHJP

The memory of passing notes with Theo caused a light tingling sensation to spark to life within him, which was a much more welcome feeling than the continuous numbing he had endured the past several months. He traced his fingers over the sheet music where Theo's notes were scrawled in the margins, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to picture him hunched over the parchment, focused for a moment before getting distracted by another project amongst the clutter.

"As I am certain you couldn't possibly understand Theo's interpretation of Tchaikovsky's 6 Symphonies, perhaps we can get this over with?" Draco drawled, causing Harry to drop the sheet music, heat rising to his cheeks with mild embarrassment for allowing himself to admire Theo's personal items at length in front of Malfoy.

He cleared his throat, nodding. "Er— right. Just, um— Nott's interests are a bit, um—"

"Eccentric?" Draco finished for him. "Yes, well, his flare for the dramatic's surpasses what anyone would consider fathomable, even those with the deepest proclivity for expanding ones imagination, including Lovegood, which— you know, is saying a lot."

Harry noticed a certain fondness in Malfoy's tone as he referred to Theo, causing him to pause.

"Look, Potter, if your intention for demanding an audience with me is to sort out our past animosities or tell me that you require an apology I'm afraid I've exhausted those efforts with Granger and have no desire to—"

"Why'd you do it?"

Draco frowned, standing up a little taller.

"You'll need to be more specific, Potter."

"You knew it was me. At the Manor that day the Snatchers brought us— you knew. You didn't say anything..." Harry took a step forward, "And Hermione? You saved her and I— well, I suppose it just hasn't registered for me yet… why you would… just doesn't seem to make any sense."

Draco felt his jaw twitch as Harry's gaze seemed to be slicing through the space between them, making his limbs suddenly feel heavy; though he did notice something strange happen within his mind that had never happened before… where his vines would normally attempt to slither forward or rattle and force him to hide them in response, they remained completely still, limp, as if he couldn't access them at all. Draco concentrated, only mildly distracted by what his mind was attempting to convey by not responding. Eventually, he felt something move and he latched onto it, desperate for some semblance of control if he were to continue this conversation with Harry Potter of all people.

"I'd say you owed me an explanation, but we were never friends or anything remotely close to it, really, so I suppose you don't owe me anything more than what you've already done— and plan to do if what Hermione's told me is true, and well—" Harry said, apparently taking Draco's silence as a refusal to answer. "I guess I just— what I'm trying to say… is thank you."

Draco swallowed then, still processing whether he should feel proud that he was finally receiving recognition from the glorious Chosen One, that he bested him in something for once, in keeping Hermione safe; but at the moment he really only felt perplexed.

"Hermione— well… she's irreplaceable and you kept her alive, so thank you. Whatever feud we have isn't enough to keep me from being grateful to you for that."

There was a brief moment where Draco felt the need to correct him.

To tell him that he hadn't told Bellatrix that he knew it was him because— sure, he hated the git, but that didn't mean he wanted his blood on his hands, and that Draco was honestly just terrified what would happen to his parents if anything went wrong… that it was really just him being a coward in the end that gave him the head start for his escape—

To tell him that his saving Hermione was strictly for selfish reasons and not some spark of righteousness he had been harboring deep down all this time— that saving Hermione was his selfish need to cling to the smallest of chances that he could finally make a choice that saved a life, rather than end one; a choice that, in turn, gave him purpose and showed him how different his life could be if he would make the difficult choices more often than the easier ones… if his father had done that to begin with Draco was certain everything would be different for them, for his mother—

Instead he said none of those things, because yeah, maybe he promised to help Potter, and yes, he was possibly, very much, developing feelings?— something for his best friend, but that in no way meant that they were going to start swapping apologies and professing their deepest darkest secrets. Harry Potter was still a self-righteous and unfairly lucky git, and Draco wouldn't be swayed to believe any differently, thank you very much.

"I had enough blood on my hands… I was running out of skin to stain."

Of course, Potter being the git that he is, he laughs.

"I suppose that's as close to an understanding you and I will get."

Draco shoved away from the desk and turned to him then, lifting his chin as he often felt necessary around this particular wizard.

"Yes, well then, if your desire to address the remorse that is a direct causation from your overbearing hero complex has been met— we can now move forward with the more pressing matters…

"For example, oh, I don't know, the impending battle between the Dark Lord and Greyback that, as a result, will place innocent students lives in danger, not that I'm not typically concerned with such trivialities, as I do not have a hero-complex— but you on the other hand… " Draco waved his hand in the general direction of Harry's existence as he trailed off and turned, pacing before him as he continued, "Oh— And we can't forget the little side project Granger has recruited me for— the simple task of obtaining a piece of the Dark Lord's soul from a heavily guarded—"

"You've made your point, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, turning on his heel and placing his hands behind his back. "As I often prefer to do quickly."

"Noted." Harry nodded, growing slightly more annoyed with Draco, which was better than the emotionally unstable version in Draco's opinion. He can only feel so many things in one day, and he prefers if he's extending such feelings towards a certain witch instead of the short, vastly less attractive friend of hers frowning before him.

"Very well, then."

"So, what's the plan?"

Draco's smirk grew wider. "Ah, Potter… I thought you'd never ask." Draco paused. "Under normal circumstance, just curious, how is it you lot normally go about this sort of… mission?"

Harry scratched the back of his head, shrugging, "I suppose Hermione usually comes up with a brilliantly thought out plan, and er— well, bad things usually end up happening and we sort of— well… improvise?"

Draco's smirk promptly fell from his face, "Comforting."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial, holding it out to Harry, who regarded the thick green liquid inside with disgust.

"What's this?"

Draco had to suppress his need to roll his eyes as he thought it was entirely obvious what the liquid inside the vial was, certainly to anyone who had taken Advanced Potions.

"Polyjuice Potion."

"I'm meant to drink this? Who is it you intend me to be?"

"Not you, Granger." Draco explained and then took the vial back from Potter's grasp. "Unless you fancy turning into a women, which if I think about it, that wouldn't surprise me in the slightest—"

"A woman?" Harry repeated, pausing and then his eyes grew wide. "You've put Bellatrix's hair in it, haven't you?"

"And they say you have no common sense—"

"Whose says that?"

Draco pursed his lips and shrugged, "Ah, right. That'd be me, actually. I said that."

"Clever."

"We can't all be reckless buffoons with a brilliant witch to think for us."

"Well Hermione must have agreed to this?"

"Yes." Draco glanced away, mumbling a bit quieter. "…her idea actually."

Harry smirked. "Whose relying on a brilliant witch now?"

When Draco refused to answer Harry simply sighed, and carried on. "So what? We're just to walk right in? Isn't there— I don't know— charms to uncover enchantments or things of that sort?"

"Or things or that sort?" Draco mocked with a heavy sigh, as if simply explaining himself was draining him of his intelligence. He thought it may very well be and that perhaps this was why Hermione was so clever, she had to work twice as hard, well three times as hard, if you're including Weaslebee, which thankfully, Draco was not. "Yes, of course there are, but not until we've actually entered the vaults. From there it will be far less complicated to keep the one Goblin distracted as apposed to an entire atrium full. Once we get to the vault all that's needed is my blood on the key to get it open."

"Right, so Hermione's cover is Bellatrix— what have you got planned for me?"

"Granger's told me you've gotten something to keep you hidden. I thought you would know what she was referring to."

"Right— of course." Harry nodded, offering no further explanation.

"One thing I haven't worked out though…" Draco added. "How is it you'll know what you're looking for? Granger tells me you lot haven't a clue what objects hold the Dark Lord's soul, but you've managed to find them before— I've seen my Aunt's vault— it's a chaotic nightmare of gold and rubies and cursed objects. Summoning charms don't work in their and we won't have much time before the other Goblins are alerted if something goes off course."

Draco sensed Harry's hesitance to answer and simply nodded.

"Right, well… it's only our lives on the line. If all turns to shit— at the very least, I can claim you Imperiused me—" Draco drawled sarcastically, knowing it would infuriate the wizard further.

"It's complicated."

"Because that response was worth giving. Yes, I feel much better now."

"You'll just have to trust me."

Draco scoffed, but upon glancing at Harry and realizing he was serious. His shoulders fell slightly, eventually nodding to reveal his bitter consent.

"Yes, well, I usually prefer more valid information to go on, but it would seem we haven't got much of choice."

There was a long pause of silence that stretched between them then.

Draco, though he was determined not to think of all the things that could go terribly wrong, could think of little else; not to mention his growing anticipation he felt with every passing second that the Dark Lord did not summon him.

He couldn't even begin to process his conversation he had up Blaise's return concerning the happenings of Kilchurn Castle— nor could he stomach considering what Mink had revealed to him about his mother, if it were true or if the elf had simply misunderstood her request…

All of these thoughts could normally be tucked away, precisely and neatly within his hedged gardens, but as he attempted to sort through it all now, attempting to repress the heavier thoughts, he was reminded of how fragile his mind had become in the short few days following the Dark Lord's interrogation.

"Malfoy—"

Draco snapped his head up, realizing then that he had been staring out the window for some time.

"Hm?"

"I said we should probably go over all of this with Hermione. In case she thinks of something else were not thinking of."

"Right—" Draco cleared his throat, moving towards the study's door and opening it.

"Malfoy—" Harry called after him, causing him to pause in the door way. "One more question…"

"By all means…"

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this entire situation— you helping us and everything, but…"

"The point, Potter—"

"You're not… Well, what I mean to say is— Salazar's fuck, sorry, this is bizarre—" Harry sighed, shoving his glasses further up his nose in a way Draco always found incredibly unnecessary. "Do you have, er— feelings— for Hermione— like, romantically ?"

Draco couldn't help but smirk at the amount of discomfort Harry appeared to be in as he avoided looking directly at Draco. He crossed his arms over his chest as he casually leaned against the doorway, drawing out the moment, shamelessly basking in the joy it brought him.

"Uncomfortable, Potter?" He leaned forward, lifting a self-satisfied brow, "—wondering what it is me and Granger got up to all this time… alone in my bedroom…"

Draco felt a spark of victory burst within his chest when Harry let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes, mumbling, "Gross—forget I asked Malfoy."

He shoved past him to exit the study. Draco didn't even feel the need to retaliate for Potter shoving his shoulder with his on the way out— the disturbed expression on Potter's face was triumph enough.

The moment Hermione entered the kitchens she was forced to quickly side step out of the way of someone shuffling across the room.

"Sorry!"

A boy with shoulder length brown hair hurried past her, gripping his arm that was wrapped in gauze across his chest, blood seeping through the white cloth. He hurried to join the others gathered around the large wooden dinning room table— some aided to their own injuries, while most were being tended to by Daphne and Blaise. Hermione took in the scene before her and moved quickly to Pansy's side, sensing she was the one who was delegating the worst of the injuries.

"Yury, take these—" Pansy said to the younger boy who had just apologized to Hermione moments ago, handing him a few vials tied together, "—and give this one to your sister after Daphne's done stitching up her stomach."

"Parkinson— your mutts are getting blood all over my mahogany table."

Hermione turned to see Theo coming to stand beside her. His arms were crossed over his chest, frowning at the group of young werewolves.

"Well, if you would stop pouting and give us a hand there would be less blood on your precious table." Pansy countered.

"I have a hand to give," Theo moved behind Hermione, placing both of his hands on her shoulders and shoving her gently forward, "—see… two dainty hands at your service."

Hermione glared at him over her shoulder before turning to face Pansy.

"What can I do to help?"

"Daphne could use some help stitching up some of the deeper gashes. She's brilliant with spellwork usually, but I think all of this has her a little shaken, though she'd never admit it." Pansy shook the thought and sighed, turning to Hermione, "I'm certain I don't even need to ask this— but how good are you at healing—"

"Healing spells are one of my specialties." Hermione answered quickly, forcing a smile. She was still upset over her conversation with Ron, and suddenly very grateful for a distraction.

"Shocking…" Pansy mumbled sarcastically, turning on her heel to point at a boy sitting on the floor, holding a bloodied cloth firmly to the side of his face. His long legs were stretched out before him and his head resting back against the wall with his eyes closed. "That's Aleksei. He goes to Durmstrang and the oldest of the recruits. Not sure what's wrong with him. He doesn't talk much, but after your finished with him—" she turned to a young girl who was crying softly a few feet away, "—do something about the crying? It's annoying."

"Oh, right… um—" Hermione blinked after the witch, watching as she abruptly turned towards the large table to help Daphne.

"Got you something." Theo said, nudging her elbow with his.

Hermione looked down to see a neatly threaded wand laying in his palm, instantly recognizing the intricate design clearly made of vine wood. Her eyes widened slightly as Theo extended it to her.

"Dragon heartstring, right?"

"Yes—" Hermione nodded eagerly, unable to hide the smile on her face, "—but— how did you—"

"That very old, very wrinkly hag who drooled all over my very expensive lounge chaise in the foyer may have mentioned what your wand was made of and I may have raided my secret stash and found one similar to yours."

"Theo—" Hermione felt her heart expand within her ribs, feeling light for the first time since Ron left. She ran her fingers over the threaded vine wood. It felt very similar to her former wand, though a bit darker in color. Within her veins her magic vibrated and hummed in forceful pulses. She smiled brightly up at him, the sting of tears threatening her eyelids. "This is… it's perfect. I-I don't know what to say— Theo, Thank you."

Theo shrugged Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, "I was going to wait to give it to you, make a big reveal of it, but you looked like you could use some good news after Weasley— well, you know."

"Wait—" Hermione stepped away and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly, "—you have an entire stash of wands?"

Theo blinked down at her, frowning, "Doesn't every wizard?"

"No."

"Hmm," He hummed, "—not very smart considering the disarming spell is used in almost every duel, ever. Predictability will always be a weakness and I prefer not to have to rely on physical combat— wouldn't want to mess up this flawless face, now would I?"

Hermione wasn't sure if he wanted her to answer, but before she could decide he continued explaining himself.

"Just imagine it—" He moved away a step, moving into a firm stance, his hands placed out in front of his chest defensively. "—you're dueling me in this very kitchen. You disarm me. Now you think you've won. You're guard is down— but what you don't see coming is that I've hidden two wands under the countertop right behind me."

With one reach backwards, Theo revealed his hand again and sure enough there was a thin black wand laying his palm. He lifted his brow at Hermione, a smirk growing over his features, "Impressed?"

"Concerned, actually." Hermione admitted. "Makes me wonder what's happened to you in the past to be so paranoid."

"Ahh," Theo nodded, tucking the wand in his back pocket. "My morbid childhood is a story to be saved for another day, and only after we're both thoroughly intoxicated— preferably and more accurately just you, so the morbid details don't hinder your precious innocence."

"I see— so never?"

Theo tilted his head towards hers, lowering his voice slightly as he glanced over her head to the happenings of the very full kitchen. "Would it be the strangest thing that's happened to you today?"

As her eyes scanned over the very bloodied strangers scattered in the kitchen and watching three Slytherins tend to them, not to mention knowing Harry and Draco were having a chat somewhere within the Manor, she grimaced.

"Valid point."

Theo smiled in triumph, "So, it would be entirely plausible that in the near future you and I may find ourselves at the bottom of a very empty bottle of Ogden's spilling all our deepest, darkest secrets?"

Hermione glanced down at the wand in her hand, the reminder that perhaps Theo wasn't as awful as he was determined to make himself appear and then glanced up at him, a smile twitching on her lips.

"To be determined."

"I can work with that."

He lifted his palm towards her and she rolled her eyes, but eventually shook it.

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes— but you already knew that." He smiled at her and leaned back on the counter, twisting the wand in his hand casually for a moment before speaking again. "So, lay it on me Granger."

"What?"

"What's our next reckless adventure? …and yes I know all about the Dark Lord's mysterious inner-bits scattered across this great wide world. Clearly you and Draco have something planned or he wouldn't be in my study with Potter right now having a chat."

Hermione considered him for a moment, glancing across the room to ensure no one was listening and reached for Theo's hand, pulling him into the walk-in closet behind them.

"Cozy, dim-lit? Look, Granger— as much as I'm loving our new found friendship, I should go ahead and warn you— you're not really my type and Draco's my best friend so—"

"How many times a day do you get asked to stop talking?"

"Well, to be honest you're the first to ever ask— normally it's more of a demand, really, unless it's Draco, then hit's normally a silencing charm—"

Hermione waved her new wand, a smirk spreading across her features. Theo frowned. He lifted the wand in his hand, reversing the spell, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Clever."

"Do you want to hear my plan or not?"

"You know I do." Theo grinned.

"We're going to break into Gringott's."

"As one does…"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that was not at all a normal response, but also very aware that conversations with this particular wizard were rarely normal so perhaps she should stop being surprised by his absurdities.

"Well— that's it really. We think that's where You-Know-Who is hiding one of his Horcrux's— in Bellatrix's vault."

"I see…" Theo nodded, and began mumbling to himself, "—a reasonable conclusion considering how obsessed she is with him. Tragic, really, as he naturally prefers murder to affection— or maybe he gets off on her devoted willingness to murder in his name, hard to be certain of such things when there's no clear evidence— interesting to consider though—"

"Nott— focus."

Theo sighed as he placed his hands behind his back, pacing two steps away, then slowly turning to face her. "And I suppose you've formed some semblance of plan as to remain undetected?"

"Well, it's not a completely infallible, but yes. I'm going to use Polyjuice to appear as Bellatrix and Harry's going to use his invisibility cloak. Once were in, Draco will be able to open the vault."

"Mhm, I see…"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Would you stop saying 'I see'? I know it's not the best plan, but we haven't got time to come up with a better one."

"Well I hardly expected you to have anything planned similar to the Great Train Robbery of '63. No offense, but you're no Ronnie Biggs and Potter is certainly no Charlie Wilson… No— your plan is far more similar to the Crown Jewels of England heist, poorly planned, as Thomas Blood was a complete dim-witted twit, but surprisingly brilliantly executed— but really that had more to do with the political climate of England following Charles II return to the throne, as religious impostures weren't as common and therefore a perfect cover for Blood—"

"Nott— what are you rambling about?" Hermione managed to ask when he eventually took a breath. She wanted to be impressed he knew so much about the topic, but found it only slightly more unnerving that he did.

Theo seemed unfazed by her interruption, "I suppose it could work— so long as you've thought of the imposture alert procedures the Goblins will take once you undoubtably fail to portray Aunty Bella-bitch, as I'm certain your acting abilities are probably just as good as Potter's, which if you were unaware, are terrible, truly, truly horrid, really— must be a bold and bravery, Gryffindor thing, a weakness really— impossible to blend in when you're intent on risking your life with such moronic consistency—"

"Imposture alert procedures?"

"Yes, Granger. The—" Theo paused as he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion in his head; a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well seeing as you haven't an idea what I'm talking about— looks like you'll need me after all. Never fear. I'll handle that bit."

"I think I'm going to need you to elaborate."

"The first thing the Goblins will do is demand to see your wand as a way to confirm your identity."

"How is it you know this?"

Theo waved his hand lazily, glancing around the dark closet then, picking at one of the cobwebs attached to the burning lantern between them.

"So you're saying we need Bellatrix's wand." Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment.

"As I said, never fear. I'll handle it." Theo smiled brightly at her, moving to open the closet door. He turned to her, and lifted his hand when she began to protest, "—it's best you don't know, truly."

"You're joking, right? How on earth are you going to—"

"Ah, ah— what is dangerous to those who are invisible to those who mean them harm?"

It took Hermione a moment to rationalize what it was he intended to do, but found that Theodore Nott was still a puzzle she had yet to piece together. In fact, she was certain that a puzzle was an insignificant metaphor for him; perhaps he was more of an intricately woven quilt, each stitching made with it's own unique, bizarre yarn, existing purely for his amusement, as he would surely unravel any stitch if he believed her close to understanding it's purpose.

"Fine, but just—" She inhaled a deep breath, "— please be careful, Nott."

"Not to fear love. I'll be back in no time." He placed a quick kiss to her cheek and opened the door.

Hermione stepped past him, immediately meeting the amused stare of Daphne as she watched her and Theo come out of the closet. Hermione began to explain, but found she didn't need to when Daphne continued past them to return to healing the recruits.

"Should I—" Hermione's sentence was stopped abruptly when she turned to find Theo was no longer next to her. She quickly glanced around the room and tried to displace her rising panic. "Bollocks."

"If you're quite finished being useless, Granger…" Pansy called over to her and flipped her hand in the direction of the injuried recruits.

"Right, sorry—" Hermione mumbled and set to work.

It was a much needed distraction, tending to the new recruits. Hermione had lost herself in healing spells and whispered conversations, enjoying getting to know some of them, while the more injuried found a quiet spot to rest. Though, her heart grew heavy with each new person she spoke to, learning of their tragic stories and how they ended up in Greyback's pack.

Three of the new recruits— Aleksei, Yury, and Roza were from Durmstrang, in similar positions as Pansy, in that their families were tied to the Dark Lord. Two others were from Ilvermorny, a girl: Eliza, and a boy: Emmanuel— both sleeping when Hermione went to check on them where they slept on the window nook near the piano. The rest of the recruits, to Hermione's horror, were orphan squibs taken from several different Muggle orphanages: Dmitri, Loki, Cole, Orion, and Damen. They had no previous insight on the magical world before they were attacked and thrown into a war that was never theirs to fight.

It was sickening; the thought of Greyback stalking Muggle communities for outcasted magical beings, robbing them of their normalcy.

"The Dark Lord apparently believes that even those who lack the ability to wield magic should still be of use to him and his cause. Finding squibs was just the beginning of it." Blaise explained her her as they both tended to one of the unconscious recruits. Hermione watched his expression darken as he focused on each individual stitch he made with his wand hovering over the girl's leg. Hermione knew it wasn't the blood that was making him queazy.

"What do you mean the beginning?" Hermione whispered back.

Blaise's fingers stilled over the wound. She heard him swallow and when he brought his haunted gaze to hers she could sense that he had witnessed something horrible. He lowered his voice, making sure those around him weren't listening.

"He's been experimenting on magical creatures. Draco sent me to deliver some new potions the Dark Lord requested him to make and that place— Kilchurn Castle—" His voice broke as he dropped his gaze to shake his head. "—it was a fucking nightmare. Whatever's happening inside that castle isn't natural. The moment I landed on that island I felt like I had died, or like— I don't know my soul was being sucked from me... not like a dementor— this was… this was different, somehow, because the longer I stayed there I—" he brought his gaze to hers again making Hermione's breath catch, "—I think I wanted to die. It was a fucking nightmare."

"What do think he's planning to do with what he's experimenting?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, though she felt fear ripple across her bones the entire time he spoke. She remembered her first conversation with Draco when he had mentioned Voldemort recruiting him for experiments, suddenly she felt the need to vomit.

Blaise shook his head and set back to work. "I don't know… Draco doesn't think it will work, but that whatever's happening in there, he's working on creating something that could stop it." He finished closing the wound and stood to his feet. "Let's just hope Potter ends this before we have to find out."

With that he moved onto the next patient, leaving Hermione's stomach turning over and her throat closing, finding it very difficult to breathe as her imagination began considering the darkest possibilities to come if they weren't successful.

As she tended to those who had been taken from orphanages, they watched with mixed expressions of amazement and uncertainty as she and the others used their wands to tend to them. She tried her best to make them feel comfortable, though it was difficult to when they all seemed terrified, shaking with fear every time someone new entered the room. Eventually, they seemed to become more comfortable with her as she told them that she was born in the Muggle world, too, and she helped most of them fall asleep with calming draught and dreamless sleep.

Their injuries healed much faster than any other person, though they weren't as quick to heal as Pansy or Daphne, as they hadn't had their first full transformations, yet. Hermione felt her heart throb with every passing second, wishing she could erase all of it for them; the pain, the memory of ever being attacked, but knew ultimately it was safer for them here. At least they would understand what's happening to them and Daphne and Pansy were surprisingly very tender with helping them understand what the first transformation would be like for them.

It was strangest at first, for Hermione, watching the two witches smile and share glances with one another, but it quickly became clear to her how much they two cared for each other. Hermione would find Pansy watching Daphne for a short period of time, a longing gaze in her otherwise sharp stare, which would have been very unsettling, if it hadn't been for Pansy's conversation with her the day before.

And Hermione found herself, once again, considering what it must be like on the other side of the war as she had with Draco in the first few days of him keeping her hidden in his room— she wondered how many more were forced into following Voldemort, believing they had no way out...

Her first interaction with one of the recruits was a short one. Aleksei hardly spoke, only nodding when she asked if he would like her to heal the nasty cut over his eye and mumbling a thank you when she finished, but the others were much more talkative.

The younger boy, Yury, who had almost knocked into earlier was very chatty. His accent was quite endearing, reminding her of what she imagined Viktor may have sounded like as a younger teenager. He was surprisingly positive, all things considered, and he was extremely attentive to his twin sister, Roza who would smile fondly whenever he spoke. They shared quick jokes as she helped rewrap his charmed healing gauze over his skin and it warmed something in Hermione, hearing their light banter. She momentarily forgot she was meant to break into a highly secure Ministry building in a few hours.

"Granger—" Hermione turned to see Pansy narrowing her eyes at her from a few feet away. She lifted her finger and pointed to something behind her, slowly stalking forward. "What is that?"

Hermione stood, turning to look behind her, but nothing was there. She frowned and started to turn to face Pansy, but was abruptly turned around as the taller witch firmly placed her hands on her shoulders, forcing her back to her. Hermione began to protest as she felt Pansy reach into her back pocket.

"You little thief— where did you get this?"

Hermione whipped around, confusion bubbling into anger within her chest until her eyes landed on what Pansy was holding between her fingers, one perfectly arched brow lifted in speculation.

"Oh— that— I can explain. I—"

"You... what?" Pansy blinked, staring at the vial, but more importantly the elegant ring near the top.

Hermione glanced around nervously, thankful that only Yury seemed to be paying them any attention. She quickly grabbed Pansy's wrist and guided her out of the room and into the back hallway for more privacy. She glanced around the corner to make sure they were alone.

"Oh, this better be good, Granger."

"I didn't steal it, alright? It was— it was given to me— as a… well, for safe-keeping, I think."

Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes as she lifted the ring once more. "The only person who could have given this to you is Narcissa Malfoy— and if by some completely impossible happenstance that were true, she would only gift it because she—"

Pansy's eyes widened as she took a step back. Hermione felt her chest tightening, unsure what to make of her sudden change of demeanor.

"No." Pansy said firmly, shaking her head. "Uh uh— not possible. That is absolutely— ha, no! Ridiculous— Just— Absolutely—NO!"

"Pansy—"

"Please tell me Narcissa Malfoy did not gift this to you ."

Normally, Hermione would be offended by the clear inflection of Pansy's voice referring to herself in such a manner of disbelief, but found she was far more curious as to why the ring held any significance to Pansy.

"Well, yes, she did, but—"

"Oh, you have got to be bloody joking..." She let out a laugh as she leaned back on the wall, shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes Hermione took a quick step back, uncertain for the reason behind the witches growing intensity. "Do you have any idea what this ring signifies?"

"Um— well, not really— She only—"

"It signifies her accepting you as a compatible match for her son— UNITATIS PRAESIDIUM — protection in unity— it's a pureblood tradition to get permission from the mother of the heir when bonding for marriage! If she gave you this, she's telling you that she approves of you and you have permission to marry her son—" Pansy paused and then began laughing again. "That bitch— she told my mother she lost it! Not that it's any of my concern, but she truly is a tricky little—"

"Look— I have no intentions of marrying anyone. She only asked that I hold onto it."

"Well," Pansy leaned off the wall, "— and here I was, thinking things couldn't possibly get any more absurd. What did Draco say?"

Hermione dropped her gaze and folded her arms across her chest.

Pansy's eyes widened once more, "You haven't told him, have you? Oh, this is brilliant—"

"You can't tell him." Hermione said quickly, her eyes pleading and Pansy wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Why not? It hardly matters unless he's intending to propose. Honestly, it doesn't even make sense— her giving it to you now. Why not wait? It's not like—"

"Pansy…"

The taller witch narrowed her eyes as Hermione bit her lip nervously.

"What is it Granger?"

"I think—" she sighed, inhaling a deep breath. "I think she was tying up loose ends… like someone would if they were preparing to—"

"Preparing to die?" Pansy whispered, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Hermione nodded.

"She asked me to hold onto the ring. Keep it safe for her. And that vial—" Hermione explained, nodding to the vial in Pansy's fingertips, "—it holds a memory. I haven't got a clue to what it reveals or whose memory it is, but she asked me not to view it and to not tell Draco until after the war. She also told me..."

"What? She also told you what, Granger?" Pansy leaned forward, forcing Herminoe to raise her gaze back to hers.

"She thinks Draco's ability to Occlude is failing because— well, because of me. Something about his magic and his heart's desire interfering with his mind— I don't really know, and I haven't had the time to sort it out completely, but… I don't think she intended for me to tell him. It was almost like she wanted me to know in case… well, in case—"

There was something lodged in Hermione's throat as she tried to form the words— to admit what she hadn't wanted to believe, but found herself thinking about ever sense Narcissa Malfoy left her. She inhaled a deep breath, thankful that Pansy was patiently waiting for her to collect herself.

"I think it's because of the curse… the same one that's in me and I'm scared that—" Hermione held back a sob, breathing in deep once more "—well, I've considered the possibility that she's become aware that there's no permanent cure— that she must know the curse will kill her soon— and how do I tell Draco that? How do I—" Hermione wasn't able to finish her next sentence, feeling a small tear flow down her cheek.

She felt Pansy's arm wrap awkwardly around her shoulders and had she not been so thoroughly distraught she may have laughed knowing how uncomfortable the witch was with attempting to comfort her.

"There you two are— What's— um—"

Hermione hurried to wipe the tear away, glancing away from where Draco had just appeared behind Pansy.

"What's going on?" He frowned at Pansy who dropped her arm from around Hermione as he stepped closer. "Hey, Hermione— are you—"

"Everything's peachy, Draco." Pansy said brightly. "Granger and I were just having a little girl to girl chat— nothing to concern yourself with."

As Draco turned away from Pansy, she tilted her head, brows lifting as she stared wide eyes at Hermione to chime in.

Hermione wasn't sure if she was grateful that Pansy wanted to help her keep her secret or disappointed that she hadn't forced Hermione to release the burden weighing in her chest. It wasn't true, what they say, that sharing a burden with someone makes any lighter— if anything it only doubled the weight, forcing them both to suffer the consequences of the importance it held.

Hermione forced a small smile on her face as she nodded, "She's right. I just got, um— emotional. Some of the recruits— well, they're just children, really, and when I learned most of them were from muggle orphanages, it just— well, Pansy thought I needed a minute to clear my head."

Draco's eyes scanned over her features for a second longer, he lifted his finger to her cheek, wiping away the lingering stain and nodded slowly. She could tell he didn't fully believe her.

"I'm fine. Really, Draco."

"You're sure?"

She nodded quickly. "Mhm. Positive."

He glanced one more time at Pansy who appeared completely unfazed, her hands casually tucked behind her.

"So I'm guessing your coming to collect Granger means you lot are ready to leave?"

"Um, yeah." Draco nodded and then turned to Hermione, his features still drawn in concern as he added, "Potter's waiting for us, but if you're not ready—"

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine. " Hermione said, lifting her arms to his shoulders and turning him away from her and shoving him forward. "Let's go."

As Hermione passed Pansy she mouthed, 'thank you', and followed after him. She felt Pansy slip the vial and ring in her back pocket and reached back to tuck it deeper, the weight of it suddenly far heavier than before.

Despite the darker thoughts swirling inside her head, Hermione couldn't help but smile as she entered the large common area to see Harry standing before the fireplace, staring into the flames. She wondered if she would ever not feel a relief flood her veins every time she laid eyes on her best friend. She hurried over to him as Draco and Blaise followed a few steps behind, discussing the details of what Draco needed him to do while they were away.

Harry must have sensed her presence, turning a moment later, a small smile creeping over his haunted features. She was instantly reminded of Ron in that moment, her heart expanding, feeling a hollow void where it was once full— much like it felt everyday sense they were separated. She shoved the feeling aside, happily stepping into Harry's outstretched arms and wrapping her own around his torso.

Her heart expanded, every inch of her grief was pushed aside as the warmth of belonging consumed her reminding her that by Harry's side would always be where she belonged, she knew this truth more than any other. He may believe he needed her, but she knew she needed him just as badly. Their bond hadn't been set in place since birth as most families were, but chosen over time, again and again, solidifying it's foundation, expanding it's certainty, revealing to them both that their sense of family was stronger than what either of them had ever known before.

He brought his hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer. She pulled back after a moment, sensing the tension in his shoulders as he held her a little tighter.

She couldn't hide the smile tugging on her lips as she ran her fingers over the light stumble covering his jaw.

"This is new."

His mouth twitched, but it didn't reach his eyes. His hair was equally as unruly, reminding her of the last time she had given him a hair cut. Her memory betrayed her, flashing scenes of him and Ron fighting, Ron storming out of their tent, and the days following spent in misery for them both. This felt similar somehow, seeing Harry so defeated, but also different— worse.

"What is it?" She searched his face for any sign of discomfort, but only found the slight emptiness that seemed to remain on his features now, the hallow void in her chest deepening at the sight.

"Nothing." He assured her, forcing his smile wider as she dropped her hands to wrap around his forearms. "It's just— still getting used to seeing you again, I suppose." He let out a small laugh, "It's pathetic how much I missed you."

"Certainly only half as pathetic as how much I missed you." She admitted, genuinely smiling before stepping back, letting her hands drop to he sides and glancing over her shoulder. Draco and Blaise seemed to be lost in conversation a few feet away and she turned to see Harry watching the flames again, appearing to be lost in thought.

"Harry…" She started slowly, lowering her voice. "…about Ron— We should probably talk about what happened between you two after—"

"Soon." Harry turned to her sharply, forcing her to recognize the slight panic in his eyes. "Not yet."

"Oh… um, alright."

"It's just—" He turned away, folding his arms over his chest. "You're here now and if I focus on what it was like when you weren't— I just—"

"Harry. It's alright. It can wait." She interrupted, placing her hand in his and squeezing it once. "But… you know you can tell me, right? I want you to know that I won't blame you or think any less of you, or whatever it is you're worried about— You're my best friend, Harry." She nudged her elbow against his, smiling, "We're in this together, remember? No matter what, I'll always be there for you. Always."

She watched Harry inhale a shaky breath, nodding as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I know." He croaked out. "I know that."

"Good." She said firmly. "Now, enough of that. We've got a Horcrux to steal out of a highly guarded vault."

"You're sure about this, 'Mione?"

She stepped back, feeling her eyes being pulled across the room where Draco stood, finding he was already staring back at her as he nodded at something Blaise was saying. Her heart leapt as she released a breath.

"Honestly, Harry— I'm certain of very little these days."

"Suppose we've managed to survive worse."

"Yes, I suppose we have." She smiled, then frowned as she noticed Harry's expression shift suddenly, color rising to his cheeks and his brows rising; often the look on his face whenever he was nervous, or embarrassed perhaps? She turned over her shoulder to see Theo entering the room, entering from the kitchens.

"Look— not to state the obvious or anything, but Parkinson seemed obviously brought home the runts of the liter— highly lacking in the intimidation department." Theo announced, coming to stand beside Hermione with Pansy and Daphne trailing after him.

"How 'bout you stick around for a full moon, Nott—" Pansy responded primly, causing Theo to jump slightly, unaware she was so close behind him, "—see how intimidating they seem then."

He swiftly placed Hermione in between him and Pansy before responding, "Take it easy, mama wolf— I was only voicing what Granger was clearly thinking."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond when Daphne chimed in instead, "What she meant to say—is that we are aware of the qualities they lack, but rest assured we're seeing to it." Draco and Blaise moved to join them as she continued, "We'll be training them while you're all off— wait, where exactly did you say you were going?"

"We're off on another quest, my dear Greengrass," Theo answered, "—another intrepid quest."

"What do you mean we?" Harry asked, glancing up at Theo. "You're coming?"

Theo lifted his hand to his chest, feigning offense as he lifted his other arm around Hermione's shoulders, "Of course I am Potter. Tell him Granger."

Hermione felt all eyes on her then, her cheeks warming under their heated stares.

She bit her lip, "Oh well, he is rather resourceful and it couldn't hurt having an additional cover—" she glanced over at Harry, "—and I may have already told him he could?"

"See, Potter." Theo interrupted, smirking over at Harry. "She wants me to come."

Hermione rolled her eyes, shoving his arm from around her shoulders. "I suppose that means you've gotten it then?"

"Gotten what?" Draco asked, eyeing Theo as he reached in to his pocket. The moment Theo revealed what she was referring to Draco took two quick strides over to him, yanking the familiar wand from his grasp.

"Well that was a bit unnecessary, Draco. I would have been more than happy to let you hold it if you had simply asked—"

"Where— How did you—?" He stammered out, blinking rapidly at him then glancing at Hermione. "And you— you knew he— but this is—"

Theo kept his eyes on Draco as he tilted his head to whisper loudly in Hermione's ear, "I think he's broken."

"What am I missing here?" Harry asked.

"This is Bellatrix's wand." Draco explained, glaring at Theo, who simply lifted his hands innocently.

"How could you possibly have stolen that insane witches wand and still be breathing?" Daphne asked, eyeing the wand closely.

"Well?" Pansy added impatiently.

Theo scoffed, "I'm stunned— appalled, to be quite honest, that you all appear to think me incapable of such a feat— least you all forget that being invisible is my most distinguishing characteristic— well, that and my ability to satisfy through oral pursuits—"

"Nott— if you don't get to the point—"

Theo smirked to himself, eyeing a particularly blushing wizard with raven colored hair and round glasses out of the corner of his eyes.

"I was referring to my story-telling you filthy minded witch—" Theo rolled his eyes at Pansy and took the wand back from Draco and handing it to Hermione, who took it with much reluctance. "Yes. Fine... As you all are aware, Blaise and I were able to free the Wand-maker and the glorious Luna Lovegood because the wards had been finicky, miraculously, and very conveniently, really— some may say too conveniently—

"Theodore Volcom Nott!" Pansy warned through gritted teeth, knowing he would likely continue with his banter of nonsense.

"I love it when you call me by my full name— Ow—" He rubbed his arm where Hermione had just smacked him and rolled his eyes. "I'm getting to it, you little minx. Always so violent… Anyway, the wards were down— prisoners escaped— Lord Shit-for-brains in turn decides to punish the last to seal the wards— enter Aunty Bella-Bitch— torture, torture, begging for mercy, blah, blah, blah— somewhere amongst the chaos, in slips your handsome, gallant white knight—" Theo winked at Harry, "—that would be me, in case you were wondering— and next thing you know I've got her wand and she'll wake up believing Dick-Lord— Lord of Dicks?" Theo pursed his lips as if considering which sounded better and settled on one," —believing Dick-Lord took it— destroyed it— possibly using it for whatever kinky pleasure Tyrant Overlord's are into these days—"

"That's— that's enough." Draco said, shutting his eyes firmly, attempting to shake the very unnecessary mental image Theo just forced him to conjure.

"That's just gross, Nott—" Daphne added as Blaise shook his head mumbling, "So, so, so disturbing—" as Pansy let out a sound similar to that of one puking.

Hermione glanced over at Harry to find him staring at Nott a slow smile creeping over his face until he was smiling, genuinely smiling and appearing to be trying not to laugh. As his eyes glanced over to hers, they both began laughing and unable to stop. She wasn't even sure why— Theo was ridiculous and the timing hardly called for laughter, but seeing Harry smile forced a lightness to bubble within her chest. Perhaps they were both losing it?

"I'm sorry—" Hermione shook her head, holding her stomach. "I don't know why— it's not funny at all— it's— Harry! Stop laughing! I'm— I can't— if you're—"

Theo smirked at his fellow Slytherins proudly. "It seems I have finally stumbled upon a worthy audience."

"I'm sorry—" Harry managed to say between heavy breaths, trying to stop laughing. "I don't know— I don't know why I—"

"Harry!" Hermione breathed out curling her fingers deeper into her stomach, her abs beginning to ache. "Harry— stop!"

"Oh this is just becoming unbearable. Fucking Gryffindor's—" Pansy sighed, turning to leave, calling over her shoulder to them, "I've got a pack to look after— Good luck you idiots, try not to die."

Daphne smiled over at Hermione and glanced up to see Draco watching with a confused expression, his entire body rigid with awkwardness. The entire scene was far too unsettling for her liking. She turned to follow after Pansy, mumbling beneath her breath, "—so bizarre."

Hermione was finally able to control herself long enough and shook her head again. "Honestly, I don't— okay. I'm fine, now." She turned to Harry who was equally as winded from laughing. "You were saying, Nott?"

"Dont—" Draco said quickly, racking his fingers through his hair as he released a sigh. "Don't make him repeat himself."

"Seems like you've got everything in place for breaking the law." Blaise concluded, clasping his hand on Draco's shoulder as he handed him a small bag. He met Hermione's furrowed brow, explaining, "Potions for the road. In case you need them."

"Thank you." Hermione said, as Blaise nodded and followed after Pansy and Daphne. The reminder that she could very well need the potions so soon seemed to sober the room of it's lighter atmosphere.

"Maybe you shouldn't come along, Hermione." Harry said suddenly. "After what you've been through with the curse—"

"Absolutely not." Hermione said firmly, "Why is it you two think I need protecting?"

Harry and Draco shared a sheepish glance, surprised that they seemed to finally have found some semblance of common ground.

"We haven't time for your ridiculous worrying. We've got a war to win." Hermione lifted the portkey from Theo's pocket and nodded once as she held it out in front of their small group. "Now, are you three wizards ready or shall we let you worry a bit longer to fully rid it from your system?"

"I haven't got a wand." Harry said, his hand hovering over hers.

"Oh, that's not a problem." Hermione said swiftly as her eyes met Theo's, nodding to Harry. "Theo."

Theo moved across the room to retrieve the wand with Harry in his wake. Draco moved towards Hermione with a hint of amusement on his face.

"When did you manage to win Theo over?"

Hermione shrugged, a smug smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"I've found that most wizards secretly enjoy being bossed around by witches."

He lifted his hands to her hips, pulling her closer with a firm tug so that she was pressed against him, promptly wiping the smug grin off her face. He brought his lips closer to hers, their nose an inch apart. She felt her breath catch, knowing that if he wasn't holding her she was certain her knees would betray her.

"I think you're underestimating your talents, Granger."

"Am I?"

Draco smirked, tilting his lips to press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering them there as he whispered. "I'm certain no other witch could entice the amount of pleasure, but— that's just my opinion."

Hermione swallowed nervously as his hands lifted to cover the sides of her face, his lips found hers, gently pressing himself closer until she could focus on little else.

"Eh hem—" Theo cleared his throat.

Hermione jumped as Theo and Harry re-entered the room. Her face, she was sure, a blazing red color as she avoiding Harry's eyes.

"You were saying something about not wasting time?"

"Ready Potter?" Draco asked. Hermione didn't have to look up to know he was smirking at her best friend.

"Let's just get this over with." Harry mumbled.

They each reached for the portkey, swirling away from the safety of the Manor and off on their next intrepid quest.