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Hermione turned her head to see Tonks, as mousy-haired and miserable-looking as she had been when she had seen her at the Burrow, but her wand was steadily poised. She did not flinch.

Both Theo and Hermione slowly lowered their wands.

"Where's Harry?" Tonks asked, clearly wasting no time. Hermione glared at Draco.

Draco knew Theo was a skilled wizard, but not so skilled as to single-handedly triumph against Granger and a trained Auror. With a silent gesture of his head, he motioned toward the compartment behind him.

"Stand aside, and don't move, any of you," Tonks commanded tiredly as she entered the compartment. A moment passed, and Hermione heard Harry's voice. She mused it sounded like his nose might be broken. She glanced at Malfoy for a moment, his expression now unreadable.

Tonks and Harry, his face covered in blood, and as Hermione suspected, his nose looking as though it was indeed broken, emerged from the compartment just as the train windows became obscured with steam. The train lurched forward as they began to move out of the station.

"Come on you lot, we'll jump."

They all hurried after Tonks along the corridor. She pulled open the train door and leapt onto the platform, which seemed to be sliding underneath them as the train gathered momentum. They followed her; Malfoy, Hermione noted, did so with noticeable ease, while the rest of them were left staggering a little on landing, straightening up in time to see the gleaming scarlet steam engine pick up speed, round the corner, and disappear from view.

Hermione breathed deeply, allowing the cold night air to fill her lungs, the quiet of night in the now empty station slowing her heart. She was glad to have some distance from Malfoy, who now sidled up to Theo. She glanced at Harry, who she could tell was embarrassed and angry; she hoped not with her.

"Thanks," Harry said to Tonks.

"No problem," she replied, smiling weakly. I can fix your nose if you stand still."

Harry glanced to Hermione for reassurance, and when she nodded encouragingly, he stayed stock-still and closed his eyes.

"Episkey," said Tonks.

Hermione, Theo, and Draco watched as Harry's nose was mended.

"Thanks a lot!" Harry said.

"We'd better get going. I'm sure they've noticed three students missing," said Tonks, now unsmiling as an immense silvery four-legged creature erupted from her wand and streaked off into the darkness.

Hermione wished she had caught a better glimpse of it before it ran off; she didn't recall Tonks' Patronus taking that form before.

As they watched Tonks' Patronus disappear toward the castle, Draco idly wondered what his Patronus might look like, should he ever try to cast one.

"A Patronus," Theo declared quietly. It was not a question, but a statement, and Hermione detected a note of acknowledgement of skill in his voice. Hermione had heard Theo speak more in the past fifteen minutes than she had during her entire time at Hogwarts, but she knew, despite his introversion, he received top marks. In fact, Hermione mused that she, Malfoy, and Nott were among the top-ranking students in their year.

Academically, anyway, Hermione considered, groaning inwardly at the trouble she was already involved in before the school year had even officially begun.

"Yes," Tonks elaborated, "I'm sending word to the castle that I've got you or they'll worry. Come on, we'd better not dawdle."

They set off toward the lane that led to the school.

"Why did you come back on the train?" Hermione questioned.

"I noticed you hadn't left the train, Harry," replied Tonks without turning her head. "I thought you might be hiding for some reason. When I saw the blinds were drawn down on that compartment, I thought I'd check."

"But what're you doing here, anyway?" Harry asked.

"I'm stationed in Hogsmeade now, to give the school extra protection," said Tonks.

"Is it just you who's stationed up here, or—?" Harry whispered, Hermione assumed so Malfoy and Nott, who were now trailing a bit behind, could not hear.

"No, Proudfoot, Savage, and Dawlish are here too," Tonks whispered back.

"Dawlish, that Auror Dumbledore attacked last year?" Harry said, his voice again a whisper.

Tonks nodded silently.

They trudged up the dark, deserted lane, following the freshly made carriage tracks. Hermione looked sideways at Tonks. Last year she had been inquisitive (to the point of being a little annoying at times), she had laughed easily, and she had made jokes. Now she seemed older, much more serious, and purposeful. Hermione wondered if her change in demeanor was the effect of what had happened at the Ministry— Sirius' loss, the beginnings of war.

"Tonks," Hermione began, glancing hesitantly at Harry. "I'm so sorry… about Padfoot."

She saw Tonks smile ruefully as her long cloak whispered on the ground.

"Me too, Hermione, me too. We all miss him."

"It's not your fault, you know—" Harry managed to mumble, and Hermione knew he was probably resisting the urge to turn to glare at Malfoy in blame. She also knew her best friend probably blamed himself more than anyone, however.

Hermione reached out and grasped Harry's hand briefly; with pleasure, she felt him return the pressure.

Behind them, Draco watched the exchange through narrowed eyes; he could hear them talking about Potter's idiotic godfather. He knew Potter definitely blamed his father and his aunt for Sirius Black's death, but Draco also figured Potter no doubt blamed him, too, even though he'd had nothing to do with it… or almost nothing.

But Draco was learning to look beyond his instincts. At first, he'd been quick to blame the Order, Potter, and his band of worshipers for his father's failure. But Draco knew better now.

And while he continued to consider, at least in part, that Potter and Sirius themselves were to blame for Black's death, and that his father's weakness had contributed to his own personal downfall, Draco knew the real truth; Voldemort was to blame.

He wondered again how Granger could have possibly supported what was so obviously a trap last year, and how even now she could reach out and hold Potter's hand even after his failed attempt at espionage on the train.

She must love him, a voice in his mind answered. Draco was repulsed by the thought.

They deserve each other… or maybe they're just that desperate, Draco thought as he unknowingly stared at Hermione.

No more desperate than Pansy, a voice that sounded oddly like Theo's retorted. Draco frowned and glanced in his friend's direction, and was surprised to find Theo scrutinizing him.

Draco marched forward, ignoring his friend's suspicious look.

With great relief, the group finally saw the tall pillars on either side of the entrance gates, each topped with a winged boar.

Harry put out a hand to push open the gates, but he found them chained shut.

"Alohomora!" He said confidently, pointing his wand at the padlock, but nothing happened.

Draco watched with amusement as Hermione put her hand to her forehead in exasperation.

Obviously she knew as well as he did that a simple 'Alohomora' was useless at the front gates of Hogwarts. He mused that this knowledge seemed beyond Potter's grasp.

Maybe she just pities him, Draco considered.

"Moron," Theo mumbled through a cough.

Harry turned to glare at him.

"That won't work on these," intervened Tonks. "Dumbledore bewitched them himself."

Seeing Harry look around for another point of entry, Hermione shook her head. "Harry—" she began warningly.

"I could climb a wall," he suggested before she could say more.

"Your idiocy knows no bounds, does it Potter?" Draco said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, although she began to wonder if Harry had perhaps suffered a head injury in addition to his broken nose.

"No, you couldn't," said Tonks flatly, ignoring Malfoy's comment. "Anti-intruder jinxes on all of them. Security's been tightened a hundredfold this summer."

"Well then," said Draco, starting to feel annoyed at her lack of helpfulness, and Potter's ignorance, "I suppose we'll just have to sleep out here and wait for morning."

"Someone's coming down for you," said Tonks suddenly, "Look."

A lantern was bobbing at the distant foot of the castle. Hermione was so pleased to see it, to widen the distance between Draco and herself, she felt she could even endure Filch's wheezy criticisms of their tardiness and rants about how his timekeeping would improve with the regular application of thumbscrews. It was not until the glowing yellow light was ten feet away from them that she recognized, with a rush of pure regret, the uplit hooked nose and long, black, greasy hair of Severus Snape.

Hermione glanced in Malfoy and Nott's direction, expecting to see them smiling with glee in the darkness at the sight of their Head of House, but she was surprised to find that Nott's features were as unbothered as ever, and Malfoy looked as though he wished he were back on the train, headed for King's Cross.

Snape had always been his favorite professor, not simply because he was head of Slytherin house, nor because the man had clear disdain for Potter (although, Draco admitted, this fact had never hurt), but because Snape had always seemed to believe in his abilities, been his advocate, pushed him to be better as a student and as a wizard in general.

Draco would have once reveled in the sight of Snape walking down from the castle to cast judgement and inflict likely punishment on Potter, but all Draco could think of now as he felt Snape's dark gaze upon him was the night of his own branding, his initiation as a Death Eater.

Snape had been there as the Mark was burned into his arm, and the professor had visited Malfoy Manor in the days that followed, advising him, tending to the wound… at least the physical aspect of the wound anyway. Despite this sign of support and Snape's words of guidance, Draco could not help but feel that the professor, now more than ever, could see right through him; that he somehow knew of Draco's burgeoning hatred for Voldemort.

He no longer trusted Snape as he once had, particularly after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. He wasn't sure if his mother trusted the man either; it was clear Bellatrix had certainly never trusted him.

Like she trusts anyone besides my mother and Voldemort, Draco thought dryly.

But Draco admitted he too had never been one to trust easily… or anyone, really. His mother and Theo maybe.

Regardless of trust, he knew Snape was likely to have a few choice words for him for messing with Potter, and for losing his wand to Granger.

Maybe he won't notice that bit, Draco thought hopefully, his hand itching for his wand, which was still in Hermione's possession..

He always notices, his mind replied. Draco groaned internally.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Snape's indecipherable dark gaze travel slowly over the group, lingering on each of their faces with what she figured must be a mixture of displeasure, disappointment, and disbelief.

She considered their group did make for an odd combination. As his eyes passed her, she felt as if he'd looked right through her.

"Two prefects, a top student, and of course— Potter… I expect Miss Granger to get mixed up in Potter's messes, but Misters Nott and Malfoy must have a very good reason for being so late to the feast."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Snape interrupted.

"I don't want to hear one word… from any of you," Snape commanded. To Hermione's surprise, Malfoy obeyed.

"There is no need to wait, Nymphadora, the students are quite safe in my hands."

"I meant Hagrid to get the message," said Tonks, frowning.

"Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like this group, so I took it instead. And incidentally," said Snape, standing back to allow them to pass him, "I was interested to see your new Patronus."

He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.

"I think you were better off with the old one," said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "The new one looks weak."

Hermione mulled over Snape's comment.

So maybe Tonks' Patronus has changed. She'd read Patronuses could change with significant life events, and she wondered if perhaps Sirius' death had anything to do with the change.

She glanced at Harry, and by his expression, she could see he was thinking the same.

Hermione looked away as Snape swung the lantern about, and saw fleetingly, a look of shock and anger on Tonks' face.

"I'll be sure to tell your mother hello for you," Snape finished.

'Your mother?' Hermione wondered. What does he mean?

Then Tonks was covered in darkness once more. Hermione wished she could've stayed to talk to her for just a bit longer, maybe to try to cheer her.

As if reading her thoughts, Harry called, "Goodnight, Tonks," as they all began the walk up to the school with Snape.

"Thanks for… everything."

"See you— Harry, Hermione," she called back, her voice weak.

Snape did not speak for a minute or so, and Hermione could feel the waves of hatred emanating from Harry's direction. She knew he partly blamed Snape for Sirius' death, among many other unfortunate events. Hermione was hardly a fan of the professor, who did in fact seem to treat Harry with a special type of disdain, and who was unguarded with his favoritism for his own house— a quality which also bothered her about Dumbledore at times— but Harry hardly made things easier for himself where Snape was concerned. Plus, Hermione reasoned, Snape was a professor, and they had broken the rules— during dangerous, uncertain times, no less.

She wished she had just alerted an Auror or a professor at the station about Harry's disappearance, rather than take matters into her own hands.

Suddenly, Malfoy was beside her, startlingly close, matching her stride.

"My wand, Granger," he breathed into her ear so quietly she was sure no one else could not hear. She registered his now-familiar, masculine scent, which she identified as strangely simultaneously warm and cool, a combination of something darkly woody yet clear and refined. She was perturbed to find she was not disgusted by it.

"Trade you for this horrible necklace."

"Liar. You like it."

Distracted, Hermione didn't notice Theo had silently sidled up to her other side.

"I think that pain in your arm is making you delusional," she whispered.

"Maybe, but at least I don't let it distract me," Draco smirked as he abruptly pulled away.

Hermione glared at him with confusion. Her bewilderment hastily transformed into rage however, as she noticed the sudden absence of Malfoy's wand from her robes.

"Thanks, Theo," Draco said, grinning wickedly as Theo tossed him his wand directly over Hermione's head. He'd slipped it right out of her pocket.

The pair hurried forward, catching up with Snape, leaving a clearly irate Hermione behind.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," said Snape as they neared the castle. "And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire, Mr. Potter. You know, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term—we haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record."

Hermione's first instinct was to argue the punishment; it had been Malfoy who'd caused this whole mess in the first place, but she knew anything she said would only make things worse for herself, and particularly for Harry. She also wasn't keen to admit her failure, nor her weakness, in front of Snape, and certainly not in front of Malfoy and Nott.

She was angry, and she knew Harry was furious, but they said nothing.

She figured Harry too understood any argument would be futile.

"I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you Mr. Potter?" Snape continued. "And with no flying car available you decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create a dramatic effect."

To Hermione's surprise, Harry managed to remain silent, though she fully expected she'd be required to talk him down later.

"I can't say I'm surprised, but I'm disappointed in you Miss Granger— a Prefect. Certainly Dumbledore will hear of this… I do hope it doesn't affect your chances at Head Girl next year…"

It took all of her focused effort to remain silent.

Malfoy and Nott continued walking ahead, and Hermione saw the confidence back in Malfoy's stride, his hair back in place as if he had just combed it, seemingly glowing in the moonlight. He was waving his wand animatedly, no doubt to taunt her, and she could see Nott failing to hide his quiet laughter. She felt as though her chest might explode with the anger coursing through her.

I think Harry's going to have to talk me down later.

Draco also remained silent, but found amusement in taunting Hermione, who he knew was fuming behind him, particularly after Snape's Head Girl comment. In truth, he couldn't wait for this all to be over, to lay undisturbed in his bed in his dorm, but he wasn't about to admit guilt to Snape, not when Harry had gotten what he deserved for meddling again.

I warned them, Draco thought, I told them I wouldn't be as forgiving.

His forearm still pained him, and as he returned his wand into the pocket of his robes, he noticed his hand was slick with blood— his own blood. It seemed Granger had reopened his wound when she'd pressed her wand into his Mark.

His jaw clenched involuntarily.

They reached the castle steps at last, and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall.

"You will all join your House tables."

Harry turned on the spot and marched straight through the open doors. Hermione followed without a second glance at Malfoy and Nott.

Theo entered the hall at a more casual pace, smirking at Granger's harried attempt to keep up with Potter. Draco motioned to follow, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"Draco, you will lead the first years to their dorm after the feast, and then you will meet me in my office," Snape commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Draco didn't meet Snape's eye. It had never been wise to argue with the professor, but now any attempt, however small, to refute Snape, who was rapidly becoming one of Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters, was a fool's errand. Draco merely sighed, nodded, then entered the Hall.

The Great Hall with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow.

Draco barely registered his surroundings however, ignoring the curious stares of his housemates as he found a seat next to Theo, who was already helping himself to pumpkin juice. Having no appetite, Draco merely poured himself a glass of water and stared at his empty plate.

"Might I suggest you take a look up at the head table?" Theo said quietly between shooting a glare at Zabini that clearly said 'Mind your own fucking business' and taking a bite of pudding. "When you're done examining the your plate, of course…"

"Shut it, Nott—" Draco began as he reluctantly turned his attention to the head table, his words halting mid-sentence as he spotted a woman who looked eerily like his own mother sat between Professors Flitwick and Babbling. Even though he'd never met her, he knew right away it was his biological aunt, Andromeda Tonks.

"Should I start planning the family reunion? I could get Sprock to cater—"

"I said shut it, Nott. What in Merlin is she doing here?"

"Teach Healing, I suspect. Did you know she's a master Occlumens, and probably Legilimens, you know…"

But Theo's voice faded away as Draco's thoughts wandered. It seemed a very strange coincidence that his long-exiled aunt had suddenly appeared at Hogwarts to teach a class that hadn't been taught in the school for… Draco paused, trying to recall what he'd read in Hogwarts: A History about the class. He recalled Healing was last taught at Hogwarts during the time of Grindelwald's war.

Two tables over, the hall was a shimmering blur as Hermione tried to keep up with Harry, who walked so fast she found herself nearly breaking into a jog. She was passing the Hufflepuff table when people really started to stare; across the Hall, she could see Ravenclaws whispering over Nott and Malfoy's entrance.

Looking ahead, she saw Harry had spotted Ron, and they sped along the benches toward him.

"Where've you—blimey, what've you done to your face?" said Ron, goggling at Harry, along with everyone else in the vicinity.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection.

"Oh— sorry, Harry, it was hard to see in the dark," Hermione said, now noticing the dried blood on his face. "You're covered in blood. Come here—"

She raised her wand and said "Tergeo!"

"Thanks, Hermione" said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"Normal," she replied.

"Why shouldn't it?" Asked Ron in alarm, who was so shocked by their disappearance and sudden re-appearance he'd put down the turkey leg he'd been eating.

"We'll tell you later," said Harry curtly.

Hermione nodded in silence, conscious that Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to eavesdrop.

"But—" argued Ron, but he was quickly silenced at the sight of Harry and Hermione's matching darkly significant looks.

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A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story. Thank you for reading and reviewing!