A/N: I have FINALLY finished Part Three. Sorry it took so long! Got caught up reading 'The Debt of Time' - if you haven't done that yet, go do that BUT not until you read this and leave a review! ...Enjoy...

Hermione was awoken by a throbbing pain in her head. She groaned blearily and raised a hand to her forehead, rubbing at the skin as she attempted to stave off the pulsating stabbing sensation.

"Try not to move," a gentle, female voice said. "My name is Healer Quinn and I will be taking care of you this afternoon. You've had quite a blow to the head and I'm just about to fix your concussion. I just had to wait for you to wake up first so you can tell me when the pain disappears."

"I know," Hermione replied. "I did a crash course in healing after I left school. Which spell are you going to use?"

"A crash course in healing," the Healer repeated sceptically, and Hermione could hear the clatter of steel instruments in the distance as well as the murmur of quiet voices. "Well, I usually rely on Sanamente."

"Ah, of course," Hermione said. She tried to open her eyes but shut them at once as flashes of white danced across her vision. "In this case, I think you may need to reconsider that spell. My energy levels are way too low, and you would zap them out completely."

There was a surprised pause. "Well, I suppose I could give you restorative potion first."

Hermione tried not to scoff. "Goodness, have you never seen what happens when you mix a restorative with that particular concussion reversal? I'll end up stuck in hospital for weeks with lesions on the brain, if not a stroke. No thanks. I don't mean to be rude, but are there any other competent healers around?"

She tried hard to keep the snark out of her voice, and there was a distinct male snort of laughter to the left of her.

"I was just testing to see if you knew what you were talking about," Healer Quinn replied hastily. "I know exactly what happens when you do it that way."

"So says you," Hermione said, her eyes still closed. The pain in her head was beginning to become unbearable and it made it difficult for her to form her next sentence. "Have you ever read Smythwick's wizard reviewed article on contemporary magical alternative therapies for brain injuries?"

"The one that suggests using a tea infused with essence of comfrey and Horklump juice?" The Healer chuckled. "It gave us all a good laugh that one."

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Did you ever think to try it?"

"Of course not, it would be a placebo, there is no proof that it would help at all with-"

"Get me a teapot," Hermione cut her off.

"Really, it-"

"Please, I have a splitting headache and really don't feel up to arguing this, just get me a teapot."

"Miss Granger, I must insist…"

There was sudden movement nearby and Hermione heard the swoosh of a curtain being pulled back and footsteps coming closer. "Get her a bloody teapot."

Draco. It must have been him that laughed.

"Damien, this is a serious injury you've caused her. She's probably not thinking straight."

She could almost hear Draco's eyes rolling upwards in frustration. "Do you know who this is? This is Hermione Bloody Granger, she literally helped save the British wizarding world at eighteen years old. She received top marks in every single one of her final year examinations. They say she's the brightest witch of her age. If she says get her a teapot, you go get her a bloody teapot."

Healer Quinn stammered for a few seconds, glancing between Draco and Hermione. "But…but…"

"And if you could get me the ingredients at the same time, that would be swell," Hermione added, trying to hide the smile out of her voice.

Draco looked at the Healer pointedly. "Chop chop then, Quinny."

"Fine," Healer Quinn snapped. "But I'm washing my hands of the responsibility when it doesn't work."

She stormed off. Draco took a seat next to the bed that Hermione occupied.

"What happened?" she asked, wincing as another wave of agony washed through her head. "I only looked away for a second."

"Dave told me to finish it, so I finished it." Draco cleared his throat. "We're…okay…right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…when you walked into the Dojo, the way you looked at me…" He sounded so unsure that Hermione felt a pang of guilt.

"Oh, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I…may have been warned of certain circumstances and needed to tap into some unresolved anger to face you properly."

Draco made a sound of understanding in the back of his throat. "Ahh, I see. Well, it worked, you were magnificent."

Hermione snorted in disbelief. "I lost."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Draco said, placing his hand on her forehead. Surprisingly, the feel of his large, warm hand on her skin made the pain ebb slightly and she gave a small sigh of relief, bringing her own palm up to cup his. The simple touch gave her tingles at the back of her neck and she struggled against the urge to shiver. "I've had years of training and you've had two months. The fact you are this advanced already in mind-boggling."

"Speaking of mind-boggling," Hermione said, bringing her hand back down. She tried to open her eyes once more to look at him but shut them immediately. "How on earth do you know what I got on my final exams? The results aren't published."

"Ha," Draco sneered. "Because it's you, of course you got top marks."

"Well, you're wrong, actually," Hermione said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I only got an E in potions."

"Wait, you mean I actually beat you at something?" Draco asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Has hell frozen over?"

"Oh, ha ha," Hermione replied sardonically.

Healer Quinn arrived back with the necessary items and left almost at once, stating she couldn't bear witness to misguided medical solutions. Hermione instructed Draco on how to stew the tea correctly, adding the essence of Comfrey and Horklump juice. After a few minutes of brewing, he poured a substantial amount into a goblet nearby and helped Hermione sit up to sip it.

After a few moments, she tried opening her eyes again and found that she could do it this time without the flashes of white and blinding pain. The ache in her head eased and she exhaled heavily. Blinking again, she focused on the man holding the cup in front of her and smiled. He was looking extremely dishevelled.

"What?" he asked flatly, seeing her mirth.

She paused, trying very hard not to laugh. "Nothing."

"If you think I look bad, you should see yourself," Draco chided.

"You saying you don't like what you see then?" Hermione smirked and Draco rolled his eyes. "But I'm wearing your favourite yoga pants."

"Pfft," he scoffed. "I'll have you know my favourite Hermione pants are the super fluffy kitten ones."

Hermione choked on her tea with a laugh and was about to retort when a cheerful female voice interrupted their banter. "Hermione! Damien!"

Jess poked her head around the curtain, her wide grin having a contagious effect on both of the people within. They looked at her in amused interest.

"Jess," Draco greeted. "Congratulations on finishing your exams."

"Thanks, mate," Jess said. "A group of us are thinking of heading down to Morgana's for a pint if you two lovebirds want to join us?"

Hermione choked again as she went to take another sip of tea, Draco patted her on the back shaking his head wryly. "Excuse me? Lovebirds?"

"I don't mean anything by it," Jess said quickly, her smile vanishing. She looked over her shoulder and Hermione saw a large purple-blue shadow of a bruise on her jaw. "It's alright, there's no one here to hear me anyway. You two in?"

"Hell yes," Hermione said. "Let me get rid of this concussion first, but then I would love a drink."

Jess grinned again and winked at them both before disappearing behind the curtain.

"I didn't take you as one to drink," Draco commented.

"I'm sure there's a lot of things about me you'll be surprised at," Hermione replied. "Have you got your wand on you? I need you to do a spell."

"Are…are you sure? I can go get Healer Quinn again." He stood up, but Hermione waved a hand at him.

"You can manage, Mr second-best-at-Hogwarts," she said, her lips twitching. His expression clouded over briefly but he retrieved his wand out of his pocket and raised a pale eyebrow at her.

"What do you need me to do?"

"It's just a simple healing spell now that I've had the tea – Minime Nocere." Hermione placed her goblet down next to the teapot and looked up at him expectantly.

"That's not a spell I've heard of before," Draco said pensively, but he raised his wand up anyway, pointing it at Hermione. "Minime Nocere."

Hermione closed her eyes as she felt the spell hit her. A tingling went over her skull, like a hundred tiny spiders scurrying through her hair. Within seconds, she felt entirely recovered. Once the spell had done its magic, she raised her eyes to Draco's and smiled warmly.

"Perfect," she whispered. "You can go get Healer Quinn now, and tell her that I'm healed."

"What spell was that? They wouldn't teach that in a basic healing course."

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to seem arrogant. "I may have invented it. While I worked in the Department of Magical Research, I invented quite a few spells. It essentially examines small fractures in bone and speeds up the healing process. When we were at the hospital for Dad…you told me not to mess with medical magic. What I didn't tell you at the time…is that I've been messing with it for nearly a decade."

"You…" he held up a hand. "You know what, we'll talk about that later. I'll go get Quinny."

After a thorough examination by Healer Quinn, Hermione was met with a stunned silence. She did the spells to check Hermione twice and both times, the results showed that Hermione no longer had a concussion or any other injury anymore. "What…what crash course in healing did you do again?"

Hermione smiled meekly at the question. "Well, when I say crash course…I actually meant that I graduated the stage one Healing course through St Mungo's in London. I studied a triple vocation while working for the Ministry just because I couldn't decide what I wanted to do straight out of Hogwarts. After doing my four weeks of prac in the emergency ward, I just decided it wasn't for me."

Draco stared at her, his mouth hanging open at her words.

"Why not?" asked Healer Quinn, accepting her explanation, as she examined the teapot with renewed interest. "What was it that stopped you from pursuing it further?"

"Oh," Hermione coughed lightly. "I am a bona fide perfectionist."

"True," Draco said, earning himself a brief glare.

"As such, I don't deal well with failure," Hermione continued. "I had trouble coping with the grief that came when the worst happened, and we lost a patient while I was assisting. After that, I knew it wasn't for me."

"What spell did you use to heal your skull?" Quinn asked as she peered at the tea remnants in Hermione's cup. "I was thinking factura fortis, but that leave trace elements of the magic used and your skull is clean from that."

"It's a spell you haven't heard of," Hermione said. "It was engineered by the Ministry in the UK but hasn't been under the proper testing yet so isn't in mainstream use."

She winked at Draco, who shook his head, still apparently impressed by this new discovery.

"Interesting," Healer Quinn commented, finally placing the teacup back down and staring at Hermione again. "I would love to have a chat with you after all of this is over if you're interested. If you're telling me Smythwick isn't entirely insane, like we all assumed he was, we should probably put the evidence forward to the agency's medical committee. They can get rudimentary spells approved for agent use even if it isn't available for the majority of the wizarding community."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Smythwick is definitely a few Knuts short of a Sickle, but he seemed to have a thorough enough understanding of healing properties in potions ingredients when we developed the tea together." Hermione stretched, clicking her neck into place, and not seeing the startled expressions on Draco and Quinn's faces.

"Why isn't your name on that article if you helped him?" Draco finally asked. Hermione almost looked exasperated at his question.

"Because he is the Healer with thirty years of experience, and I was nothing more than a student at the time. My name wouldn't have gotten the article approved or reviewed. He needed help with the composition, and I needed to pick his brain about a patient of mine at the time, so we helped each other out. The tea isn't a placebo – it actually has wonderful anti-inflammatory and restorative purposes."

"I would really love to have a chat to you," Quinn repeated. "I think I may have misjudged you at first."

"Most people do," Hermione grinned, flashing a glance in Draco's direction. He looked slightly abashed. "If I still have my memory about ADSS in two weeks, then I'll send you an owl to tee a time up…or a kookaburra or whatever it is you use."

That made both Quinn and Draco laugh.

"What's your name anyway?" Hermione asked. "I would feel a bit weird addressing it to Healer Quinn."

Quinn's cheeks tinged pink. "My first name is Lyn."

"Wait…your name is Lyn Quinn?" Hermione waited long enough to get a quick embarrassed nod from the Healer. "Do your parents hate you?"

"I don't know…do yours Hermione?" Quinn retorted; her eyebrows raised. There was a pause, then a deep belly chuckle erupted out of Hermione, infectious enough to get the others joining in with her.

"Oh, I think we'll get on fine," Hermione said once she had recovered from her hilarity.

Draco walked along side Hermione, in the middle of the group of animated candidates, all chatting loudly and cheerfully as they exited the medical facilities. The hallway they were in was a long one, windowless and magically lit from no discernible source. Hermione couldn't help but smile at her companions, all now exuberant to be finished with their exams. They were comparing notes and experiences, most notably that of the escape room and sparring match. Every so often, Draco let his long fingers briefly touch Hermione's as they swung by his side, his shoulder now back in its proper place. With every slight brush, Hermione stretched her fingers forward, trying to extend the length of time where their hands met, a moment shared that was secret to everyone around them.

"I can't believe that's over!" Mark, one of the final candidates exclaimed loudly from the front of the group, throwing an arm over the shoulders of Amelia who didn't shrink away for once. "We did it, guys! We survived! Now we can celebrate."

The group cheered, and Draco used the noise to cover up his whisper as he leant down to Hermione's ear. "You did great."

She smiled up at him, resisting the urge to tuck his flyaway hairs behind his ear.

"And…I'm sorry."

Her smile faded, and she tried to question him. What on earth did he have to be sorry about? But before she could get the words out, she felt the floor begin to tremble under her feet. She slowed to a stop, the others in front still moving, having not noticed the vibrations. Her logical mind knew that Australia rarely experienced earthquakes but couldn't come up with a suitable explanation in its place. From somewhere in the distance came a deep, hollow, boom. She felt it, rather than heard it, the shockwave rippled through the building until the entire hallway jolted with an invisible barrier of force.

The group fell silent at once.

"What the hell was that?" asked Fen, holding her hand to the wall of the hallway to steady herself.

Another deep-bellied rumble and boom! This time it was a little closer to them. The hallway again shook ferociously as the after wave washed over them and Hermione stumbled, clutching onto Draco's right forearm, and looking around at everyone's concerned faces.

"Could the Ministry be under attack?" she asked, her tone calm, but she felt her heart thumping more steadily in her chest, like the drums of warriors heading into battle.

Draco grunted and took charge. "We should assume that's the case. Mark, Amelia, can you go ahead to the foyer and see if you can see what's going on then report back? Charlie and Fen, go back to the hospital and alert them that they may have incoming casualties. Jess, you and Hermione should get back downstairs to the training rooms and give Dave, Chief and Tully a heads up. The training rooms are charmed to be soundproof, so they wouldn't have heard anything yet."

Everybody but Hermione nodded at their instruction, all quickly following the orders without question, which she noticed Draco looked entirely too satisfied about.

"Dra…Damien, what's going on?" she asked as she stared at him. There was a small uncomfortable tugging sensation happening in her lower abdomen. If Chief had taught her one thing, it was to 'trust your gut' and right now, hers was screaming at her to listen. Something just didn't sit right with her about the timing of this.

His pale eyebrows creased and met in a pained expression. He didn't meet her gaze. "I have no idea."

"Come on, Hermione, let's go!" Jess cried, already pacing down the hallway following Mark and Amelia.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked, trying again to get him to look at her. "What are you sorry for?"

His silver eyes remained up, looking now at the ceiling as a third detonation quivered the carpet underfoot and dust fell onto his shoulders from the roof as a crack appeared in the framework. "Please, Hermione, go with Jess."

"What are you going to do?" Her grip on his arm tightened uncomfortably.

"I'm going to head towards the explosions and see if there are people needing medical attention and get them out."

"I should go with you," she exclaimed. "I am a semi-trained Healer, remember?"

Draco eyes finally met hers, his expression now hardened. "I need to know you can follow orders, Agent."

His tone stung her, but it also eased the knot in her stomach slightly and she wasn't sure why. She let go of his arm, backing up a few paces.

"I'll see you soon then…Handler," she replied, her tone just as hard and she saw Draco cringe before turning away from her.

"Hermione, are you coming or not?" cried Jess from behind her. Hermione went to spin on her heel, but as she did, several things happened at once. The wall next to her burst outwards in an ear-splitting blast, and shattered pieces of wood and plasterboard erupted forward, smothering the hallway in a splatter of debris. The explosive momentum propelled Hermione sideways and she slammed into the wall on the other side of the hallway. She blinked and coughed, trying to wave a hand to dissipate the plaster dust hanging thickly in the air. She heard Jess and Draco yelling and she squinted, seeing Draco on the other side of the hole in the wall. Shadowy figures moved through the hole and into the hallway, wands pointed forward and sudden panic gripped her.

"Hermione!" Draco hollered. "Hermione, move!"

"Oh shit," she whispered to herself. "This is real."

The lightbulb moment went off and her training kicked in. She jumped to her feet and with a heartbreaking agony, saw Draco through the dust throwing punches and kicks, slamming the head of one person into his knee then dropping them to the floor with a thud. But he was quickly outnumbered and four grabbed each of his limbs to force him downwards.

"Damien!" Hermione cried, wanting to run forward. One of the figures heads snapped around, noticing her for the first time.

"Hermione!" Draco yelled again, his words muffled with the strength of his struggle. "Hermione, run! Get out of here!"

As much as it hurt to do so, she spun around, the thuds of her fast footfalls unheard of as the chaos behind her escalated. She knew that could always come back for Draco, but she could do nothing if she got captured as well. She found Jess along the hallway and her fingers reached forward, curling around Jess' wrist to cling to her, then pull her along as she sped forward. They sprinted the length of the hallway, as jets of red and gold shot over their heads. They ducked and weaved, just avoiding getting hit each time.

"Who are they?" Jess cried as another stream of red just missed her head by millimeters.

Hermione shook her head. "No idea."

Jess came to a sudden stop, and Hermione yanked on her arm, fuelled forward by the kinetic energy of her race.

"What?!" Hermione demanded, finally managing to skid to a stop. "Why have you stopped?"

"In here!" Jess nodded with her head to a small square door sitting in the wall next to them. "It's a House elf dumbwaiter."

"A what?"

Jess didn't answer, she just pulled the little door open, revealing a shaft with ropes dangling down. "Quick, get in and I'll lead them away."

"No, Jess, you go in and I'll lead them away," Hermione tried to insist, nudging Jess toward the opening.

Jess gave her a scathing look. "And everybody keeps talking about how smart you are. Woman, my hips couldn't squeeze through there, but you are tiny, and you would fit. Get in and I'll conceal the door."

Their pursuers were gaining on them and Hermione let loose a small howl of annoyance. She placed her wand between her teeth and clambered through the small door, hooking her foot around the rope, and swinging down into the narrow shaft. The last thing she saw before being enveloped in darkness was Jess' scared face mouthing the words 'good luck.'

She looped the rope of the dumbwaiter lift around one hand and pulled her wand free. She muttered a charm to repel rope burns and quickly began to descend the long tunnel downwards once she had unhooked her foot. Small square outlines of light flashed past her the lower she went, gaining speed at an incredible rate. With a squeak, she realised she was about to crash into the dumbwaiter itself and quickly waved her wand.

"Aresto Momentum!" She slowed to a stop with a metre to spare and was able to let go of the rope, closing the gap and landing on the dumbwaiter with a smack. It sat in front of one of the square outlines of light and she pushed the door open gingerly. It came out to a small kitchenette and with a start, she realised that it was Freddo's kitchen in the mess room. Squeezing her shoulders through the narrow opening, she pushed herself forward. It was much harder to get out of the shaft than to get in she was realising. Slowly, slowly, she edged forward before falling to the floor.

"Should've gone feet first," she mumbled to herself, standing up and brushing her legs off.

"The attack is going as planned," a voice echoed into the empty mess room and Hermione froze mid-brush. "Damien has been apprehended and we'll soon round everyone else up."

But…that was Dave's voice. The speech moved closer towards the room and she ducked behind the countertop to avoid being seen, hugging her knees to her chest. How could Dave be involved in the attack? How long had he been a traitor? None of this made any sense.

"Where is Damien now?" Another voice asked….Sensei Tully? Hermione thought wildly.

"They're taking him upstairs to Interrogation Room 3."

Interrogation? Hermione's stomach lurched and she felt sick. What if they were torturing him? Flashbacks from the war started flashing through her mind and it took everything she had not to turn into a panicked mess. She focused on her breathing and pushed down her emotions. Now was not the time. She had tapped into her rage only hours earlier, she could do it again now. Compartmentalise, she scolded herself. Now is not the time to lose your shit, Granger!

"Freddo!" called a third voice, this one deep and no longer holding its cheerful tone…Chief. The house elf appeared in front of Hermione with a crack and she stared at him transfixed. He was still wearing his cork hat and his big round green eyes bore into hers. She raised a shaky finger to her lips to beg his silence. He very slowly closed one eye in a wink. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Freddo is here, Master Chief," he called out. "How can Freddo assist?"

Footsteps crossed the mess hall and stopped just short on the other side of the counter. Hermione was sure he would be able to hear her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She wondered how it could beat like this when it felt like it was breaking with every new person who spoke. These men were not only her mentors and trainers…they had become friends over the last two months. How could they be involved in something that hurt their fellow colleagues? Innocent people! That nagging sense of betrayal she had felt when she found out about Ron's infidelity was nothing compared to how she felt now.

"Can you grab us a ginger beer? I'm parched." She felt the counter shake as Chief rested his large arms onto it. "Oh, and a lamington if you've got one."

"Seriously, Chief?" Asked Tully. "You're eating at a time like this?"

"What?" Chief asked defensively. "I eat when I'm stressed, leave me alone."

"Come on, Tully," Dave interjected. "You know he has to keep up that huge figure somehow."

"You calling me fat?" Chief snapped, a definite snarl in his voice now.

"No, I'm calling you thick."

"I seem to recall your mother liked how thick I am."

There was a sound like a strangled turtle as Dave cried out his protest.

Joking. They were joking. Joking around while she and the other candidates were being chased, hunted, jinxed. Hermione no longer needed to tap into any unresolved anger from her childhood, the rage that had started as an ember found its spark and slowly grew in her chest the longer she listened to them, filling her being with a fire. She had to remember to breathe quietly. Freddo popped the lid to a glass bottle and pushed it, along with a lamington sitting atop a plate over the counter towards Chief. Their bickering continued as they walked away, without even thanking Freddo for his help.

Hermione waited half a minute longer to make sure they wouldn't return.

"Freddo," she whispered urgently. "I know you can apparate anywhere within the Ministry, can you take me to where they have their interrogation rooms please?"

His huge eyes widened even further than Hermione thought was possible and the corks danced around his face as he nodded his head in the affirmative. "Freddo can help, Miss Hermione. Just hold onto Freddo's hand."

As soon as she clasped his long fingers, she felt the familiar sensation of being pressed in very hard from all directions and knew they had left the small kitchenette. With a crack, they reappeared in a hallway that looked very similar to the one that she had left not that long before the explosion happened.

"Thank you, Freddo," Hermione said, still whispering.

"Freddo wishes Miss Hermione good luck," he replied, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go and disappearing once more. Hermione took a quick evaluation of her surroundings. She was at a T-intersection of two hallways. The one she wasn't in was lined with doors, numbers ranging from one to six labelled on the front with a metallic gold sign. She peeked around the corner and could see two guards, both dressed in black robes, patrolling in front of a doorway a little down the hallway from her. That must be room three. How she wished she had a few decoy detonators with her. She knew she did have the invisibility spell up her sleeve, but as she wanted to keep that entirely secret, using it to remove two guards seemed unnecessarily risky. If she were caught and they knew she didn't have a cloak, they would torture her until she spelt it out for them, and then it would be in the wrong hands.

"They're bringing Thorne up now," she heard a third guard call to the two patrolling, and she backed against the wall in her hallway as to not be seen.

"How many candidates have been caught?" The guards stopped patrolling and walked over to their comrade to ask.

"We're just missing the one, all others have been brought in."

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. She was the only one who hadn't been caught yet. She could not screw this up. Maybe she could apparate home and call Harry, he would know what to do. She could figure out a way back in when she had back up.

She gripped her wand tightly in her hand and spun around. Nothing happened.

Shit, she thought wildly. They must have thrown up anti-apparition wards. This was the last thing she needed.

"Ahh, here he is," one of the guards cried out. "Get in here so we can interrogate you."

"You'll get nothing out of me," a drawling voice replied. Hermione gasped quietly as she heard Draco being led. She couldn't risk peeking around the corner again now, but at least she knew for sure that he was there.

"Ahaha, we'll see about that," the guard replied, his tone quite jovial. "They know all manner of techniques to get you to talk."

"Bring it," Draco said. There was a snort of laughter, but Hermione couldn't tell which guard it had come from. The door to room three opened and they all went inside, leaving the hallway empty once more.

There was only one thing for it, she would have to break the door down and lead with the element of surprise. She half-ran down to the door, pointed her wand at it and yelled, "Bombarda!"

The door blasted off its hinges inwards with enormous volume and there was a corresponding yell of shock from the occupants inside.

"Fumos," she yelled again, and at once, a cloud of smoke poured into the room, hindering all visibility. She ran in, shoving her wand into its holster, eager to get her hands on the guards that had captured Draco. There was a mass of confusion as she fought her way through. There were more guards in this room than she had thought, but she didn't care, as she threw elbows into faces, ribs, backs; spinning and kicking her way further into the room. The guards didn't know where she was and started sending hexes and jinxes out, hitting each other instead.

"Hermione?" Draco's garrotted tone of surprised recognition rung out and she twirled around, trying to find him in the opaque haze.

"Where are you?" she shouted.

She realised a second before the stunning spell hit her squarely in the back that she should have kept quiet.

***
In the beginning, after she awoke the first time, they used the cruciatus curse on her. Again and again and again, without even trying to get information out of her. The pain was so intense, so constant, that she lost track of where she was, what day it was, and eventually who she was altogether. Her mind struggled to stay coherent and she tried to install as many mental guards as she could to protect herself, just as Chief had taught her.

She had no idea what they wanted; she had no leverage to get herself out of her predicament.

All she felt was the horrific agony of knives stabbing every inch of her, for what felt like hours on end.

When they finally decided to stop using magic, the guards had paid her back for all the physical damage she bestowed upon them. They threw her to the cold concrete floor, groping her roughly, yanking her hair back, kicking her until she felt her ribs crack. Her face felt swollen, every inch of her bruised, and a warm oozing liquid ran down her neck, which she could only assume was blood.

She didn't know how much time had passed. There was only pain and darkness.

***
Hermione drew in a ragged breath. Her chest gurgled and rattled with the effort. She opened one eye blearily, but the room was dark. The inky blackness pressed against her eyes like the thick curtains drawn together in a theatre. She was not alone though. Her wrists ached terribly, the rope tying them together rubbing harsh red rashes along her skin.

"We know you have information," a male voice said. It was high pitched and reminded her strongly of Voldemort's. The recognition and memory shuddered through her. "You don't have to be in pain. We could take away all of your pain if you just tell us."

"Bite me," Hermione replied, spitting onto the floor.

A light flicked on, shining straight into her face. A figure moved in front of it, she could make out the shape of a person hovering feet away from her.

"You have no loyalty to the Australian Ministry." They continued. "Tell us what you know and we will set you free."

"I know nothing." Her head lolled forward; her body too weak to continue holding it up.

"We know the Ministry is hiding someone, someone who should have died long ago." The figure took an ominous step forward. "Tell us who they are."

Hermione felt a panic rip through her, but at the same time her resolve strengthened. "I…know…nothing."

"Very well," the voice said, before turning away and speaking to someone else. "Get the Veritaserum."

"I KNOW NOTHING!" she screamed desperately as she heard someone move away; her head felt like it split open from the effort. "What information do you want? I'm only a trainee, why would they tell me anything?"

The figure drew up a chair in front of her and sat down to face her. "The ADSS recently acquired an item. We know you know what it is and where it is. Tell us."

"What? What item? They probably have acquired a hundred items recently," she moaned, struggling to raise her head.

"This item was collected by the person you're protecting."

With a jolt, Hermione suddenly realised she did in fact know what he was asking for.

"It's a magical artifact, very well sought after, and the only one of its kind," Dave revealed, speaking in undertones. "It allows the user the ability to see a memory of anyone, alive or dead, as long as they have something of that person from the time. It's called the Memoria Gem. As soon as we have it, they'll lock it up in the underground vault we have here."

But that made no sense, Dave was the one who told her about it. And she had heard Dave conspiring with Chief and Tully. Unless…maybe he was a double agent. Like Snape. Her heart thumped erratically. She had always felt she could trust her instincts and first impressions of people, and every fibre of her being wanted to trust Dave. If they didn't know about the gem through him, they certainly wouldn't find out anything about it through her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's a pity," the man replied. "Maybe you can tell us about the man then. We have intel that the agent who collected the item isn't who they say they are."

"It's a secret agency, I'm sure a lot of the agents aren't who they say they are," she said, her tone bordering sarcasm. The man laughed, and this only angered her further.

"But we have reason to believe that you know who it is and who they really are," he said.

Hermione's thoughts raced, thinking of every moment she had spent with Draco, laughing and bantering. She thought of the brief kiss she had gotten in the shower cubicle. She didn't even know how long ago that was. It hurt to admit it, but she knew she should have been obliviated the minute he became more than just a friend. The minute she knew she could compromise him. She needed to protect him…even if that meant not being in his life. If her heart could have cracked, it would have been this moment that she felt the first fracture.

"I feel like a broken record," she said, her tone conveying more courage than she currently felt. "I don't know anything."

"Hmm…" the man murmured and reached behind him. She could hear the shuffle of paperwork as he grabbed for a folder and brought it into the light. "Perhaps you'll know more once we go and find…Monica and Wendell, is it?"

Hermione twitched violently at her parents names and inwardly cursed herself for putting them as her emergency contacts when she first arrived. The sound of a door opening reached her ears through the roar of her blood pumping through her veins.

"The Veritaserum, Sir," another male voice said.

"Excellent. Now hold still, Miss Granger, and soon you won't have to worry about us visiting your poor, defenceless, muggle parents."

"There's one small problem, you dick," Hermione snarled, breathing heavily and trying to focus on her anger over her fear.

"Oh?"

"How are you going to get me to talk…when I have no tongue?"

Before he could register her words properly, Hermione drew in every last ounce of courage in her and bit down hard, straight through the middle of her tongue. Blood immediately pooled into her mouth and she gagged. She spat the mouthful of bloody, along with the fleshy object, onto the floor by his feet and glared at his silhouette. Blood now poured freely out of her open mouth, and she bared her stained teeth at him, as it cascaded down her chin and into her shirt.

"Whaaaat…Oh fucking Merlins balls!" The man was momentarily stunned silent and seemed to look around for someone to tell him what to do. After a pause, he turned back to her. "So you don't care if we go after your parents then?"

Hermione remained silent. The man seemed to finally comprehend what had happened and pulled his wand out.

"Denuo Carnem," he chanted. The bit of separated tongue rose from the floor and Hermione retched fiercely as it forced its way back into her mouth. She could feel the stitches of flesh binding back together and tears of frustration escaped from her eyes.

"Argh!" she screamed once the spell had healed her.

"Right, now that we have that…moment…out of the way, let's get down to business," the man said, taking a step forward.

"I could do this all day, you motherfucker," Hermione growled. "I don't care what you do to me, or my parents, or anyone I know. I will sit here and bite my tongue off every time, you will never get anything out of me. You may as well just go ahead and kill me."

There was a pregnant pause.

Hermione panted heavily, her words hanging in the air. She felt the pang of grief wash through her. Grief for her parents, for Draco, for the life she could have lived. She felt the loss and sadness that she would never get to see her best friends again, never get to see her niece and nephews grow up, never get to have a family of her own. But this was her choice, her life, her decision. She closed her eyes and waited for the pain to end. Harry walked to his death at seventeen. She could sit and do the same. She could be like Harry.

But the killing curse never came. The silence dragged on.

Eventually, the lights came on and Hermione blinked in confusion. She raised her head and felt her jaw slacken.

The man in front of her was none other than Draco. He pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "Finite."

"Well done," he said, his voice now returned to normal. "You passed."

Hermione couldn't think. Her brain had stopped working. She blinked again as well as she could through her swollen eyes to try and bring him into proper focus. It was definitely Draco, unscathed, wearing a proud smirk on his face. The door opened and both the Director and Deputy Director entered.

"Well done, Miss Granger. You have passed the final test."

"What...it...it was all a test?" she said, panting, her voice higher than normal and full of incredulity. Her chest felt tight, her eyes burned, wanting to shed tears that wouldn't come. She couldn't take her eyes off Draco. It was him all along. She shook her head disbelievingly. "You fucking bastard."

He flinched and took a step towards her, wanting to untie her bonds. She jerked away from him.

"Don't fucking touch me, you…you…"

"Hermione…please," he begged her, his silver eyes imploring. "You know I had to. This was a part of your exams. Everybody went through the same test as you. Everybody had to undergo the same…"

"What, the same torture?" she cut him off, glaring at him. Her voice shook and cracked as she spoke. "You…you tortured me. You've broken me."

"Miss Granger, you're hardly broken," Deputy Director Amory said gently. "You accepted the risk to your parents, you pushed for death rather than give away any agency secrets. You did exceedingly well."

Someone charmed the ropes to fall and her wrists became free. She tried to stand, her knees wobbling weakly and her fists clenched tightly to her sides. Draco tried to take a step forward again, but Hermione shook her head sharply at him.

"So they know then?" she asked, looking at the Director, but directing her question to Draco. "About…about y-"

"No," Draco quickly interjected. "I took the lead on the questioning, but they have no idea what it is in reference to."

"The aim of this test was to feed confidential information to each of the candidates under conversational terms. Accidentally dropping some vital piece of intelligence regarding a mission and then capturing each candidate in a believable scenario to see how they would react under an actual torture and interrogation circumstance," Director Medeia explained, her blue eyes gazing piercingly at Hermione. "I was told the intelligence given to you was about the real identity of one of our agents, even though it wasn't actually real, and about a recent artefact retrieval. You didn't give away details about either."

"So…Dave…and Chief…and Tully," she stammered. "They…they're not…traitors?"

"Hardly," Draco scoffed. "What gave you that idea?"

"I went down to the training rooms," Hermione mumbled. "Like you said to. But before I said anything, I overheard them talking about how you had been captured and taken to interrogation room three. The only way they could have known that was if they were behind it."

"How did you get to the training rooms so quickly?" Draco asked curiously. He stood awkwardly; she could see his fingers twitching to touch her and she took another step away. "No one saw you at all until you blasted your way into the interrogation room."

"House elf dumbwaiter shaft," she replied, now feeling numb, unable to process anything beyond basic answers. "Jess saw it and suggested I get in. It led straight to the kitchenette. After I overheard the men talking, I asked Freddo the house elf to apparate me to the interrogation hallway. I heard you…"

She raised her eyes to Draco, but quickly looked away again. "The guards said they were going to interrogate you and you said they wouldn't get anything out of you. I thought they were going to hurt you."

"Oh," Draco said, sounding abashed. "The guys like to get into character a bit when we do the scenario…they love the improv stuff…I was just playing along."

"Let's get you back to Healer Quinn, dear," Director Medeia said. "You've performed wonderfully, but I bet you're eager to get home after such a long day."

"Day?" Hermione gasped feebly. "It's only been one day?"

"For us, yes," she replied. "You were placed under a stasis charm, so it seemed like much longer to you."

"I thought it had been at least a week," she mumbled again, as the muscles in her body spasmed uncontrollably at random with her slow movement forward.

"Please let me help you," Draco said, reaching out to her once more but she again recoiled.

She shot him another glare and said scathingly, "I said don't touch me."

"But…Hermione…"

"Seriously, Damien, stay the hell away from me. You have just tortured me, beaten me, groped me, and pushed me to my limits. You're sadistic. You're…you're cruel. And I can't stand to be around you right now." She took another step forward to leave and said under her breath but loud enough that he heard it, "How can you think I can trust you after this?"

He bowed his head low, his chin trembling as he tried to rein in his emotions in front of his superiors. He knew this would be how she would react. But he didn't want anyone else working with her. What if they had gone too far. He thought if it was he who was in control of the situation then he could make sure no lines were crossed. He had no pleasure in doing this. But he was an agent, and this was his job. These were his instructions. And he had to follow them.

As she limped and staggered her way through the door, he stared wistfully after her and whispered, "I did say I was sorry."