"Poor Kreacher," sighed Hermione once again.

They were around the table of the kitchen, quietly eating dinner. Potter had excused the elf and had cooked himself. Apparently, he had learned the hard way at his relatives' but he was really good in Draco's opinion, and he wondered how it was possible for someone with his talent to have failed almost all of his potions.

"Is he always like that?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Well you know… Trying to punish himself, that sort of thing?"

Harry looked at him quizzically.

"I thought Dobby was your father's elf."

"Indeed. But as you just said, it was my father's elf. My mother and I never treated our personal elves like that, or the ones working at the Manor."

"Really?" he asked. "But he's not the only one. I mean you never saw Winky but she was kind of special too."

"Harry please, let's not have this conversation right now," murmured Ron, glancing at Hermione who was apparently preparing herself to give her usual speech against elf's treatment.

"Yeah right," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm sure Malfoy will explain later how they treat their elves. Why don't we try to run through the Horcruxes list while we're here?" he added quickly. "Maybe we'll find something useful."

"Alright" said Hermione, a suspicious gaze still on Draco. "Let's see. There's the Diary first, which you destroyed during our second year, Harry."

Draco looked at Potter who was slightly nodding, as if he remembered how it had happened. He could not recollect anything involving Potter and a diary. The Potion Book of Severus had been during their sixth year. He would ask Hermione later.

"We've the ring, which was destroyed by Dumbledore last year." She paused a moment, and Draco felt guilt cripple him. "And we know that Salazar's Locket is one too. With any luck, we should have it before the end of the week."

She seemed happy by this prospect but he was not sure he felt as ecstatic as her, knowing that one part of the Dark Lord's soul would soon be near him.

"That leaves three of them. We suspect Helga's cup, Rowena's tiara and the snake."

"The snake?" he was baffled. To trust a snake with a part of one's soul?

"Yes," repeated Potter. "The snake. Dumbledore said it was dangerous to do so, but he thought that their… relationships were too unusual to be put aside."

"So… you're not even sure that this in a Horcrux?"

"No."

"Good. Very good. That helps a lot," he carried on, his voice full of irony.

"Thanks Draco, really improving the mood," Hermione declared, rolling her eyes. "Anything you know about the other two?"

"Not at all. I've never heard about the cup, and the only tiara I remember seeing recently was…" he stopped abruptly, picturing the stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and an old tiara. "The Room of Requirement!"

"What?" asked Hermione.

"In the Room, there was a bust with a wig and…"

"… He had a tiara!" finished Potter. "Yes, I remember it when I…" he winced "…I mean I've seen it too! Do you think this is it?"

"There are other tiaras," interrupted Weasley, grumbling. "How can we know it's this one?"

"We can't you're right," continued Potter. "But I think this is a good lead. It's in the castle, after all, and Hogwarts is the first place He considered as home. And let's not forget that he thought he knew everything. Maybe he found the room and imagined he was the only one with access. He came back at least once after his seventh year. I can easily picture him putting the Horcruxe in the room after Dumbledore refused to give him the job he wanted. Must have found it hilarious."

"We have to be sure this is the right one but it means we have to go to Hogwarts by ourselves," said Hermione. "How do we manage that? The castle is protected, and with Dumbledore gone and You-Know-Who in power, I'm not sure we will access it easily."

"Why not ask one of your friends," offered Draco. "With the coins, you can contact any of them."

"That's out of the question," interrupted Potter. "I don't want anyone else involved. Besides, we're not sure they want the school reopened."

"Well then maybe go to Hogsmeade and take the tunnel?" asked Weasley. "If two of us take the cloak, that's possible."

"We can't be sure that Hogsmeade won't be under surveillance. We will have to plan carefully. I think we should first focus on the locket, and how to destroy it."

"Yeah, how do you plan to do that?" he asked. "From what I read in your books, Hermione, there are few options and I'm not sure you can control fiendfyre or find a basilisk."

"We had a basilisk," began Weasley. "But Harry killed it."

Draco opened and shut his mouth at least four times before finally being able to say something.

"You… killed a basilisk?"

"Yeah. With Gryffindor's sword. In second year."

Potter was grinning widely. For once, Draco had to recognize that maybe, just maybe, Potter had balls.

"Wow. I had not understood that when Hermione mentioned it to her parents," he said, trying to forget what had happened to them when he saw her shudder. "How come you had the sword with you?"

But Hermione stopped him, a huge smile on her lips.

"Harry, the sword!"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Dumbledore wanted you to have it, remember? It's goblin-made, that means it kept the venom!"

"So what, if we have the sword, we can take care of the Horcruxes?" asked Weasley, trying to keep up.

"Yes probably," continued Hermione, leaning forward to take her notebook. "This is definitely an argument in favor of visiting Hogwarts!"

"Okay," resumed Potter. "First the locket, then Hogwarts. That's a good start."

Kreacher had returned four days later, bearer of bad news. He had found Mundungus Fletcher, but the man was to no use and they had released him after a small memory modification. The wizard was involved in many illegal activities, and the four (more like three) of them decided they could not let him roam around with the information that Draco was still alive.

After a long discussion, often interrupted by Ron's and Draco's heated debates, they had set up a plan: Potter, Weasley and Hermione would go to the Ministry every day to monitor Umbridge, and Draco would stay there, sorting out the information that they had found. He and Weasley had already accumulated a lot of useful data about the different Departments and professions inside the Ministry, but they knew it was not enough and would have to find some more.

Based on their memories, Draco had also begun drawing a map of the building, and by now they had a few spots where they knew they could find Umbridge. Hermione had also made them sit for two hours, explaining the different escape routes they had in case they were discovered while surveilling her.

They still had to agree on the best day to act, but Draco was positive it would be around September. By then, they would have found witches and wizards to impersonate and memorize their usual routines.

Draco sat down at the table, thanking Kreacher who had just put a plate of well-baked pancakes in front of him. Taking his wand, he began slicing an apple before taking the latest edition of the Prophet.

"Potter?"

He heard a small commotion, and the Boy-Who-Lived came from the pantry, where he had been trying to steal the last slice of tart before Weasley woke up. Potter apparently decided that Draco would not care if he ate it and put it almost entirely in his mouth.

"Merlin Potter, stop mimicking Weasley's terrible table manners. Come take a look at this. I think this might help a bit."

Potter took the newspaper and read the head title aloud.

"'SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER ' Oh. So, it's going to reopen. Do you think they expect us to be there?"

"I suppose they are not that daft. One thing is sure, I would not want to be in the castle this year. The Dark Lord's going to put other Death Eaters there, and with all that bullshit of Muggle-born registration I think that the students who are not Pure-blooded or who don't like the Dark Lord's agenda are going to suffer. I don't think they will accept Muggle-borns, though."

"That would almost be better. Do you think they will go into hiding?"

"For their sake, I hope so," he sighed. "The ones that are already seventeen won't have any problems, but I fear for the younger ones, like that boy with the camera."

He remembered him well, not only because he was terribly annoying but mainly due to the fact that he had been petrified during their second year at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, the Creevey brothers. We had a discussion between Gryffindors after the funerals, I think Lee Jordan was going to organize some sort of hideout."

"Good. Merlin, I feel terrible for them." he said after a few seconds. "To think that I… I mean, a few years ago I would have given everything for Hermione, or any other Muggle-born, to be dead. I can't take that back but fuck, I wish I had never said that. Hermione's forgiven me, but I don't think I deserve it at all."

"Hermione's the best, that's sure. But hey, Malfoy, don't think like that." said Potter, almost putting his hand on his shoulder before apparently thinking it would be too friendly. "You saw that your beliefs were wrong before it was too late. You did not want to kill Dumbledore. You agreed to help us. You even began to learn more about Muggles while living with them. I mean, in only one year, I think you did rather well."

"… Yeah. Thanks, Potter," he said, a small smile on his lips.

"And well, about last year. I uh…" Potter was nervously running his hand through his hairs, creating more mess than usual. "I didn't really want you dead, you know? I was just so obsessed with this business, and nobody was taking me seriously, and I read that spell that said…"

"I already know that, Potter. Hermione explained. No need to make excuses."

"You almost died…" he seemed embarrassed, but also a bit relieved to be spared the official apologies he still owned Draco.

"Well. At that time, I have to admit… I think that I provoked you because I knew that something could happen. I was looking for an excuse to stop everything and… and maybe I was just hoping to die. I remember, after you hit me with the spell. Everything seemed so peaceful suddenly. I felt nothing, I just… Yeah, maybe I would have welcomed death with open arms."

Potter was staring at him, obviously trying to process what he had just said.

"Wow Malfoy. That's…"

"Is there some tart left?"

Weasley had just entered the kitchen and sat loudly on the chair beside Potter. He looked at them, having apparently understood that he had interrupted something.

"Any news?" he asked his friend, ogling Draco's plate with hungry eyes.

"Yeah um. Snape's been promoted. He's going to be Headmaster next year."

"Snape is going to be Headmaster?" this time, Hermione's voice was heard, and Draco felt his heart pace quicken when she came behind him to read the title.

"Oh, but that's wonderful! Harry, he's going to use Dumbledore's office!" The Chosen One seemed not to understand the impact it could have on their mission. "Phineas portrait! We can communicate with him!"

"I had not thought of that! I hoped that maybe we would be able to find a way to talk to him, but this is better than I would have imagined! Let's go upstairs."

Even after a few weeks in the house, there were still some rooms that Draco had not seen yet. Kreacher had begun cleaning again and was much more efficient than them, but the fact that he was alone and older than Draco's grandparents slowed him a lot.

The room was clearly Weasley's, and Draco refrained from commenting on the state of it. They all gathered around a small frame, and Potter cleared his throat before calling for its owner.

"Mr. Black? Sir? It's Harry Potter. We'd like to talk to you, if you have the time?"

The portrait stayed empty, but Draco heard a voice coming from its depths.

"It's summer time, Harry Potter. Why don't you take a break too? Even portraits want holidays."

"We're sorry, sir, but this is rather important. It's about the new Headmaster."

This time, the voice sounded interested.

"The new Headmaster, uh? A nice man. Such a long time since a Slytherin has been elected. What about him?"

"Can't you come here?" asked Potter, sounding annoyed. "I don't really like talking to empty frames."

The portrait of a clever looking wizard swiftly arrived, apparently irritated by Potter's attitude.

"You haven't changed at all, young sir. Still no sense of respect towards your elders. How Dumbledore could appreciate you, I'll never know. Ah," he said after looking around. "I see you are not alone. Yes yes, Albus said you would do something like that. Is that the young Malfoy I see with you? Never thought he would agree to come."

"We're not here to discuss my decisions, Black. We're here to ask you a question," interrupted Draco. That portrait really was beginning to piss him off.

Phineas looked at him, clearly feeling insulted.

"Well, young Malfoy. Your time with Gryffindors has been well-spent, I see. Your beginning to sound more and more like them."

Ignoring the bait, Draco talked again.

"Can we ask our question, yes or no?"

"You may," sniffed the portrait, stroking his beard. "But I'll choose whether or not I agree to answer."

Pompous git , thought Draco. Must be the only fun he has as a portrait .

"Mr. Black," Hermione began, her voice polite. "We'd like to know if you've had any contact with the new Headmaster. You see, we have not been able to talk to him since the end of June, and we think he would be happy to know we are all alright."

Phineas looked at her for a moment before finally relaxing a bit against the frame.

"I only saw Headmaster Snape once," he slowly said. "And it was yesterday. He's home, for now, but he will be back soon. I may tell him you've said hello, if I remember our conversation next time I see him."

And, with that said, he walked away from his frame before they could stop him.

"Well," finally said Weasley. "I think he's going to help."

"I should go, Draco."

"Do you really have to do it? I know it's important, but can't Potter and Weasley go together?"

"Harry is enemy Nr. 1, do you remember? I can't let him go like that."

"And you're a Muggle-born, who failed to register at the Commission. I think you're in danger too."

"We discussed this already, Draco. I'm going. I'll have my coin just in case. Maybe you can go talk to Phineas again. Surely, You-Know-Who cannot always be at Hogwarts with Snape."

"I know. Maybe it was just because of the school start. I hope so. Anyway, now that the castle is reopened, Severus will have to stay there at night. I'll try after you're gone."

"Good. Can you let go of me, now?"

He looked between them, and saw that he had involuntarily grabbed her hand and was nervously stroking it.

"Yeah right," he said, feeling his cheeks redden. "Just be careful, Granger. The Ministry is not welcoming anymore."

"It never was," she said tightly. "We should be back before lunch. Do not wait for us if you're hungry."

"Right. Go before I change my mind and forbid you to follow Potter and Weasley. And don't go all Gryffindor if you can avoid it, Granger."

"I'll try," she answered, before finally leaving his bedroom.

Draco sighed. He did not know why he felt so protective towards her, lately. Maybe it was the fact that both of them had had to leave their family under terrible circumstances. Or maybe making sure that nothing happened to her was his way to thank her for her generosity. Or maybe it was because of that promise he had made to her mother, not so long ago.

He tried to picture the Grangers in Australia. Except for France, Draco had never travelled a lot and he had a hard time trying to imagine the country. The fauna and flora between the muggle and the wizarding world were very different, but seeing the animals and plants that populated the land had made his mind go wild. And the beaches… what he would give for the beaches. Every picture he had seen, the sun was there. He glanced outside.

England was not the sunniest country in the world but since the Dark Lord was back, everywhere seemed gloomier than before. He shuddered, remembering that the Dementors were the main cause of the bad weather. Once again, he thought of his future. Would they defeat the Dark Lord? And then, what would happen to him? Would the Ministry detain him because of his role in Dumbledore's death, or the attack of the castle? Would they, as Hermione often said, take into consideration the fact that he had been unwilling and blackmailed? He dreaded Azkaban, and for good reason. Maybe his aunt had already been a bit crazy before her stay there, he could not know how bad she had been affected by the prison. But he had seen the difference for his father, and he hoped he would never have to undergo a stay there.

He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. A small nap, thinking of visiting the Grangers with Hermione, would help him forget his dark thoughts.

Hermione had shivered when she entered the room, almost thankful that Umbridge had cast her patronus to protect them. And now there she was, almost forty minutes later, writing down the conclusion of the last hearing that had happened in the room. She felt terrible. She had seen at least fifteen people who, like her, were from muggle origins. And she had stayed there and said nothing, as Umbridge enforced the new law she had surely contributed to.

She tried to focus on her task but it was hard, and her heart almost stopped when she heard the name of the woman who had arrived. Mrs. Cattermole. That was the name of the man Harry was impersonating. That was why he had been so reluctant to go home this morning. He was supposed to come here, to support his wife! She felt her heart pace increase as she tried to find something to do. Maybe hex Umbridge? No, too dangerous, there were Dementors and she was the only one with a wand here, except for Yaxley.

"I'm behind you," a voice whispered in her ear.

She jumped so violently she nearly overturned the bottle of ink with which she was supposed to be recording the interview, but both Umbridge and Yaxley were concentrating upon Mrs. Cattermole, and this went unnoticed. She tried to stay calm, and put into practice the relaxation exercises she had begun learning in July. In, out. In, out.

Meanwhile, Umbridge was enjoying torturing the poor woman in front of her, and she felt Harry's body tense behind her when she let out a girlish laugh. She watched the woman with pure hate, and she saw something gold swinging from her neck. Hermione let out a little squeak, but nobody heard her. She had to do something. To say something.

"That's… that's pretty, Dolores," she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge's blouse.

"What?" snapped Umbridge, glancing down. "Oh yes… an old family heirloom," she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. "The S stands for Selwyn… I am related to the Selwyns... Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related. ... A pity," she continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, "that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents' professions: greengrocers.' "

She felt Harry shift, and she moved away from her seat to help him get a better aim, certain that he was going to hex the woman.

"Stupefy!"

There was a flash, and Umbridge fell on her forehead.

Only a few minutes later, as they ran in the corridors of the Ministry, Hermione thought of Draco and her heart ached at the idea that she was indeed in danger, without having the time to let him know. For now, she just hoped that they would be able to leave the Ministry without any problems. She took the boys hands and turned, thinking of their house. Destination, Determination, Deliberation.

Phineas had finally agreed to listen to him, and Draco felt victorious already. Maybe that meant that Severus was free.

"We have a few questions for him, but first we want him to know that we are all fine. In fact, we have found one… object, and Potter and his friend are in the Ministry trying to retrieve it."

The portrait was feigning disinterest, but Draco could see through his act. He was a Slytherin, after all.

"We wanted to ask if he could help us secure an object in the Room of Requirement. It's an old tiara, perched on a bust. And we wanted to talk to him about the sword of Gryffindor. We have reasons to believe that it was imbued with basilisk's venom and we want to know if he can smuggle it out of Hogwarts."

"Smuggle it? My dear boy, with all due respect I have for you, do you really think that a Headmaster would willingly take Godric's sword out of the castle to give it to you? You're not even a Gryffindor."

"It's not for me, it's to destroy the…"

He stopped when he heard the sound of an apparition behind him and took his wand out, coming face to face with a highly nervous Kreacher.

"Master Malfoy, we need to be quick. Kreacher felt the wards breach, there are bad men coming this way."

"What? Kreacher, what do you mean 'bad men'? Are they Death-Eaters?"

Already, he could hear the sound of rapid footsteps on the lower floors, and he glanced at the door, casting a quick charm to protect him a bit longer.

"Kreacher, what about the others?"

Hermione , he thought. This was the second time that something bad was happening to her, and he was not near her.

"Kreacher knows not, Master Malfoy. He felt them come back, but then the wards were down and they disappeared. But Kreacher can find his Master, Master Malfoy. Please take Kreacher's hand before it's too late."

Without any time to think, Draco grabbed the portrait of Phineas and took the elf's small hand.