A/N: Buckle up, bitches. If you've been riding this story out until the beginning, I hope this chapter does it justice. If you're new, I hope you've been able to push past the leading spaces of every sentence in the earlier chapters to get to this point, and I salute you heartily. It's confrontation time, ladies and Gents. Hope you're ready for it.

Chapter 46

Hermione slammed the door to her office behind her soundly.

"Well that was a bloody waste of time." She growled.

Harry, nodding, flopped down onto her guests chair and laid a hand over his eyes.

"Why would the minister agree to meet with us if he was just going to give us the same old practiced speech about the prophecy." Hermione sat on the edge of her desk with a sigh. "'It's for public safety.' What a moron."

Harry shook his head. "It's just their strategy to try and get us to back down on the protest. If they wall up the information they hope we'll eventually back down."

"But they must know that I know about the prophecy," She shook her head. "I have a little bit more interest than just the protest. Not that that isn't very important, of course."

"Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. I doubt the department of mysteries has to report every time they inform someone of a prophecy. Obviously, or they would have informed Malfoy too."

Hermione kicked her desk with the back of her heel. "Did you find out if there's a way around the sealed wizengamot records?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, the auror badge privilege only applies when it might be pertinent to a case."

Hermione scoffed. "Well that's just crazy."

"I know, it's as if it's supposed to be for my job, or something." Harry's upper lip twisted wryly. "Speaking of sealed records, how did things go with Malfoy after the rest of us left?"

"We may have gone back to his place and read the afternoon away…" Hermione looked down, the memory tainted by the realization she had come to.

"Well you can't accuse him of not being your soulmate." Harry smiled up at her.

"Yeah… he has some interesting opinions on the exclusion of witches from much of our history of magic in school." Hermione shrugged.

"So… what's the problem, then?" Harry rested a hand on his tie, and raised his eyebrow archly.

Hermione balked a little, turning her head. "If I did want to… tell him. How would I best go about that?"

Harry's second eyebrow shot up. "Really?"

"I… He wasn't the person I thought he was. He's…" Hermione's throat felt like it was closing up, and she pushed away the tightness in her eyes that usually heralded tears.

They were silent for a long moment.

"Hermione… do you remember, during the war, what happened with Belletrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor?" Harry said quietly, glancing at the door.

"Bits and pieces. I told you, at St. Mungos they said the legilimency she used left some memory scars," Hermione tipped her chin up.

"Do you remember what happened after?"

"The next thing I remember is Ron holding me, and Dobby coming to rescue us. Why are you asking about this?" Hermione crossed her arms.

"Malfoy… Malfoy cleaned you up and brought you to us… And he's also the one who contacted Dobby," Harry said steadily, looking directly into her eyes.

Hermione leaned back. "Oh."

"It was one of several ways he released prisoners throughout the war," Harry laid a hand on Hermione's arm. "I didn't want to tell you because… well first of all your recovery at St. Mungo's was so difficult, and also because it wasn't my story to tell."

"I guess I understand that." Hermione said.

Harry took an envelope from her desk, an interdepartmental memo addressed in familiar green inked handwriting. "I think... you need to just tell him the story."

Draco stepped out of Granger's fireplace, shaking a fine dusting of floo powder from the bottom of his work robes, and tossing a Quibbler onto Granger's coffee table.

She appeared in the door of her bedroom, leaning against the doorjam with a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hey, I brought you that copy of the Quibbler with the article about Musetta Morvoi, who invented the pepper up potion but had her invention attributed to her husband. There's an interesting recipe for an everlight potion that reduces the effects of gravity temporarily," He undid the ties to his robe and opened it to reveal his white button down and trousers.

"Thank you. I thought you said that article was from last year?" Granger had changed into a pair of her tight stretchy pants and a long sleeved t-shirt that hugged the contours of her breasts when she crossed her arms and looked down at the ground.

"It was. I like to save them in case a beautiful woman needs an article a year down the line," He grinned at her, noting that she didn't smile or look up for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"Can I ask you a question?" She asked quietly.

"If you're about to ask if Lovegood and I are a couple, we're not." He replied bluntly. "She's my mate, and she writes a good article."

"Well… that was about to be my second question. But… what happened to me at the Manor?" Her cheeks were flushed slightly and her eyes seemed trained on the floor.

Draco's heart skipped a beat. He had been wondering what exactly she did and didn't remember from that day, based on her spotty statements regarding it.

"You mean last night? I would think as an adult woman you'd be able to piece it together." He replied, betraying himself by unconsciously touching his hand to his forearm.

"I mean five years ago," She swallowed. "When I left... or I guess I could say soon after I left Hogwarts, I realized that I was missing some pieces of my memory from that day. The nurses at St. Mungo's said that Bellatrix left some scars from her legilimency and I was blocking a trauma. I remember that you were there, and sometimes I get flashes but… I don't know what really happened. Will you tell me?"

He faltered, stepping back. She stepped forward, coming out into the living room.

"I don't mean to ambush you or anything. I promise we'll get to the regular order of business later. I know you don't like talking about the war. I just need to know if… what Harry told me was true." Granger tucked an errant curl behind her ear and squirmed a little, clearly uncomfortable with being vulnerable in front of him.

He hesitated. "First of all, classic Potter to tell you. And second of all… let's sit down."

They made their way to the couch, and Draco rested his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together.

"Where do you want me to begin?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Granger put a hand on his arm. "Just… what happened to me?"

"She was trying to get information about what was being organized, where people were gathering. But when she realized that you and Potter and Weasley had been on your own… she started to get angry." He ignored the images, unbidden, rising to the surface. "My aunt was a lot more powerful a witch than a lot of people realize. But her mind was… erratic. Of course, you know that. I doubt she consciously knew she was leaving scars. Just like she didn't consciously realize she was projecting your thoughts to me, because I was in the room."

He put a hand over hers. "I said it wasn't my story to tell. And I didn't mean to mislead you by not telling you. I didn't realize until later that you didn't remember."

"How much did you see?" She asked, her voice and face blank and unreadable.

""Whatever you threw up to block her. Good choice with giving her professor Flitwick's lectures, that really pissed her off," He tried to quip.

She smiled softly. "Thanks."

"Of course, you probably pieced together the… knife buisness. That was after she got really frustrated. She wanted more to give him than just Potter, she wanted to give him a victory. And thank god you hadn't been in contact with the rest of the lot at Hogwarts," He laced their fingers together. "You probably saved a lot of people's lives."

She nodded mutely.

He took a deep breath. "And then… she left you to me to clean up and take back to the dungeon. You were… delirious and… and you begged me to help. I guess it makes sense now, that the legilimency had some lingering effects, because you were incoherent. Bellatrix had promised to go for Ron next, you begged me to help you protect him."

"And you did." She said after a long moment.

"I did. I cleaned you up and carried you down to the dungeons. Dobby was still tied to the house, after so many years, and here wasn't time to plan, or to make it seem like it wasn't me. I used to pretend that I had tortured people to death to cover up whoever I snuck out of the castle. But they were watching you too closely. So… I called on him." He laughed a little. "It's funny. The thing I thought would condemn me to death ended up being the one thing that saved my life."

"You saved people too." She said simply. "You saved all of us."

He scoffed, "Potter saved all of us. I just didn't want to be under the heel of a noseless Nero just because Weasley ironically had more contact with the order than you."

He looked over, and her eyes were glistening with tears. Draco pulled her closer, and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her against his chest.

He kissed her forhead. "I'm sorry. When I went in for questioning they put me under veritaserum, and it all came spilling out, everything I saw and couldn't forget."

"Were you saying I'm sorry at one point…?" Hermione sniffed, wiping her tears away hastily with her hands.

"I would say roughly the whole time?" He chuckled low in his throat. "I didn't ask to see inside your head. And of course all the childhood trauma that I inflicted got thrown in my face."

She laughed and sniffled, her hair tickling the bottom of his chin. "I'm glad it wasn't just me alone."

"Weasley was there for you more than I ever was. I just healed your arm and called for help." He shook his head.

She sat up, drawing away and looking at him in the eye. "You helped me when I needed it. You kept us alive. Don't you dare downplay it."

Draco drew his shoulders up. "It was an easy choice to make."

She kissed him then, her arms flying around his neck. He drew her into his lap, and she fitted to him like a warm blanket.

"Thank you." She gasped, before kissing along his jaw to his neck and sending shivers down his spine.

She banished all rational thought, and Draco melted into the couch. She seemed to need something, need to feel alive. Ever since that day at the manor, he had never been able to deny her something she needed.

He tightened his hands around her waist. He had never thought he would live to see this. Forgiveness. Acknowledgement. Closeness. That calm feeling that settled over him when they touched. He needed this too.

Hours later, Draco stirred from bed, his mouth dry. They had ordered in something that Granger called "Curry and Nan." After drinking almost a gallon of water, he was surprised that he could still have a dry mouth.

The wind blowing against the window answered that the changing weather likely had more to do with the dry mouth than anything. Leaving Granger in her bed, he pulled on his boxers, and padded down the hall to the kitchen.

The kitchen was silent, the only sounds being the wind, the soft snores of her cat who had settled on the top of the counter, and the clock on the wall. It was dark, the only light coming from the city lights out of the small window and a cabinet under the coffee maker, which glowed faintly from it's cracks.

Draco raised an eyebrow and headed over, summoning his wand, which flew in from the bedroom, silently hoping that the glow was a benign sign.

Hermione sat up in bed, her heart racing, a hum filling her head.

Two ennobled though not the equal in status

One of darkness and one of light

Divided by circumstance

And wrought by struggle

Will meet again in blood

Before a new day dawns

It being not before but not after

They will be separated and

They will by plot be married together

Like two warring metals

To make the stronger sword

And on the fourth risen moon thereafter

Will conceive a child to conquer

The darkness rising

After the dark one is vanquished

After the dark one is vanquished

Enmity will turn to true love

Love broken not even by death

Soul from soul

Life from life

Weighted but not bound

By the history of strife

Through the door she could see a faint white glow emulating from the kitchen. She rose, shrugging on the closest piece of clothing, Malfoy's shirt and stepped into the hall without thinking, sparing not even a glance at the empty bed behind her.

Draco turned and saw red. She stood in the doorway, half in darkness, her expression painted with guilt.

"What the fuck is this?"

She started towards him, and then hesitated.

"I'm so sorry." She didn't try to deny hiding it from him. That, at the very least, was a comfort.

He twisted, a knot of anger in his chest pulling tighter and tighter.

She watched him, wariness battling with obvious curiosity.

His fist tightened and his arm tensed. He remembered this feeling, from watching his father struggle not to hit him, a struggle Lucius had occasionally lost.

"I was afraid you would..."

"Leave." He said it like an order and she flinched.

"I knew... when I found out you... when you were Ron..." she wasn't the normal erudite Granger he was accustomed to. He cocked his head and she seemed to shrink slightly under his gaze, her proud shoulders bowing in.

"Are you attempting to explain why you did this? Did you think you were going to trick me into... what? Falling for you?" The words were barely above a whisper, but she trembled as though they were a scream.

"I didn't have a choice." She shook her head, eyes dropping.

He laughed, the sound coming out hollow and empty. "You think that excuse will work with me? Are you mental? You always have a choice, Granger."

She shrank again, and made a little strangled sound. "I knew you wouldn't understand, I heard this," she reached for the globe, "and I knew it meant I had to take away what you really wanted to go through with it all. Your whole future..."

"So you thought you were protecting me? You thought you could deceive me and d-" he turned his head hard, fists tightening, stomach churning to keep the word out.

"I just thought you might leave if I told you why. I knew how you were in school, and I…" She took a calming breath, and straightened a little. "I thought that it was the least risky thing to keep it from y-"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand, "So you thought the best thing was to take the choice away from me? Don't trust the dangerous death eater with any decisions? Do you know how fucked that is? You're fucked up in the head, Granger."

"I know. I know. Harry told me to tell you and I should have listened. If I could do anything, go back to any moment, I would go back to that morning when you performed the charm and undo this… this fucked up thing." She swiped at her face, drawing in a shaken breath but squaring her shoulders, becoming more Grangerish at last.

"And the most fucked up thing was, you thought it was going to work," an ugly feeling was rolling over him like a storm, the words bitter in his mouth.

The strings on her pride were cut once again, and her face froze in its defiance, her eyes dropping.

He took a step forward. "What about you could make me fall in love? It takes more than a handful of shags to turn my head. How did you plan to do it? You and Potter and your precious Weasley sitting up in your ivory tower and scheming away. Just like always."

He took another step forward until they were nearly toe to toe. "Enlighten me, Granger. How? Did Potter help you with the whole thing, or did you come up with it on your own?" He tamped down the urge again, clenching his fist and forcing a breath into his lungs.

A tear escaped her eye but she seemed to have fallen into some soldier's stance, eyes just locked on his, expressionless.

"Come on, Granger, I can tell you're just dying to share it," He urged his voice low and seductive again. "You were never shy about sharing how smart you were during school. What was the next step? You already lured me to brunch. If you knew you were leading me to slaughter, you could have at least paid for my last meal."

She flinched, but just shook her head. "I didn't intend-"

"To ever tell me, yes, that much is very clear," he hissed.

"I never intended to hurt you," She said through a choked throat. "If I hurt you, I am so-"

"Hurt me?" The anger in his chest twisted again, tightening and he pushed it away. "Nothing you do could ever have any effect on me. If you've been congratulating yourself on eliciting my lust, I think you'll find that that's far from a great indicator of a man's true interest."

She seemed to be hypnotized, a look he remembered from long ago The hard tile of the ballroom and her blood, her far away eyes "Malfoy please… help me… help me make it stop… anything you can do..."

He leapt away from her as if she was on fire, anger leaving him as quickly as it came.

He ran a hand over his face, turning away from her. Why had he been a part of this? Why not someone else? Why hadn't she been captive at the Nott's mansion, or at the werewolves den...

Will meet in blood before a new day dawns. It didn't take a genius to know which incident that referred to.

But it had begun before that even, in fourth year when she'd performed a spell...

Destiny was a cruel bitch.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, "I know I can't apologize enou-"

"Don't fucking touch me." He bit out between his teeth, hard and clipped, the anger snapping to attention like barbed wire pulled taut. Her hand left him immediately.

"Draco-"

He turned on her, baring forward until he had her backed against the kitchen wall. She shrank under his gaze again.

"You don't speak my name ever again. To anyone." The anger was filling him out now. It was the angers hand that laid on the wall next to her, causing her to pull her arms around herself, her eyes turning far away again.

"I can't do that." She said quietly, her voice steady.

"Why? Are you under the delusion that somehow your plan will still work?" The anger spat the words in a whisper.

A different look came over her, but her eyes became focused again, "No..."

"Let me be fucking crystal clear, you and I will never, ever-" his fist slammed onto the wall and she jumped, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

The anger laughed. "Afraid I might hit you?"

"No, you wouldn't, I-" She stated, still clinging to the wall.

"Wouldn't I?" The anger twisted him, a feeling breaking over his chest like ice on a burn.

That seemed to rouse her from her stupor more completely, her eyes turning steady and certain. "Of course not."

His fist went slack, anger draining like water through his fingers, leaving him with nothing, and the helplessness.

He stayed there a long moment, just looking at her.

"Right." He said, "because I wouldn't want to touch you ever again." But the words lacked all conviction. He wanted to go to sleep, to sleep and never wake up again.

She laid a hand on his arm, drawing herself up a little. "I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know you. The more I-"

"You still don't." He cut her off.

"Maybe," She looked down, letting that word hang in the air between them.

Maybe this would be the last time he saw her. Her hair in a wild bedhead tangle, in the kitchen where they'd first…

He started to draw away and she laid a hand on his chest, barely whispering. "Please, Draco..."

"Please what?" He said back, the words coming from somewhere else deep inside him, somewhere beyond the anger.

"Help me, please. I'm sorry I didn't believe you would, I'm so sorry but… please…"

Draco stepped back as though she'd been brandishing a knife. He turned swiftly and took the glowing globe from the table. He left her there, stepping out into the living room and then into the fireplace, giving the code name for his bedroom, barely seeing her apartment dematerialize, replaced with the deep green colors of his sanctuary.