They apparated out of nowhere, the sound of a faint pop reverbing through the thin air. The two silhouettes stood, alert, before relaxing for a few seconds when they had the conviction that nobody had seen them. They were two men, one young and one middle-aged. They wore similar expressions – fear – but couldn't have look more different. The younger one was tall, slender and, despite his haunted look and hollowed cheeks, still spectacularly beautiful. He hastily repositioned his hood, and a silvery flash caught the eye of his companion.

"Careful you idiot boy, you cannot be seen!"

The second man's breath was irregular and his cold black eyes were darting in all directions, looking for someone or something that could threaten them. When nothing came, he felt his heart slow down from its hectic pace. His right hand came to his face and he wiped off the sweat that was coming from his forehead, before trying to replace the greasy black hairs framing his face.

"Where to?" asked the blond one. He glanced around, unsure of his surroundings.

"It should be nearby, I have the address here," said the second one. He put his hand into a pocket of his robes and a few seconds later, they were looking at a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanting writing. The black-haired man looked around and hastily began to walk in a direction only known by himself.

"This way".

The boy wrapped his cloak tighter to his side and tried his best to stay calm. He quickly followed his elder partner before grimacing when he felt his body protest at the effort. He knew he was weakened by weeks of a drastic diet and months of constant fear but he had not thought it would be that bad. His head was pounding, his steps unsteady and he was desperate for food.

They were walking faster now, and he knew they must be nearing their destination. He looked expectantly, trying to guess which of the houses it could be. Despite the night, the area was illuminated and he could see that it was a well-off neighbourhood. Maybe it would be alright, he thought, maybe he had a slight chance after all. But he also knew he should not expect too much, and a slight chance was already too much for someone like him.

"It's this house," murmured the man in front of him. He had stopped, two or three meters from the entry, and seemed to be thinking. The boy came nearer and felt something buzzing around him.

"Wards," he stated. "And you've activated them."

"Yes," answered the elder one. "I'm not surprised, given the time we live in."

"How long do you think she will take?" He was nervous, and not sure he wanted to be there anymore.

"Not long, she must be thinking we are them ."

"Well," and his tone was clearly ironic when he replied, "we are them, and I doubt she will welcome us after our last encounter."

"She will have no choice", the black-haired man replied, "not when she hears what I have to say."

"How can you be sure she will want to?" Fear was piercing through his voice now, and he blamed himself for his lack of self-control.

The sound of a door clicking made them stop their conversation, and they waited for her to come out of the house. She was wearing some sort of girly pyjamas and her hair looked disastrous. They must have awakened her, and the blond boy prayed that it would not impact her mood too much. She advanced slowly; her wand firmly pointed in front of her.

"Wands out, and drop the hoods", she said, wondering who could come this late to her house. Had something happened to Harry?

The two companions looked at each other and put their wands out of their inner robes before uncovering their heads. They heard her gasp.

"What the FUCK are you doing here?" she hissed. Before they could even answer, she had disarmed them both. They had not opposed any resistance, it would not look good if they wanted her to cooperate.

"Miss Granger," began the older man, but she stopped him, clearly angered by their presence only a few meters from her home.

"Don't Miss Granger me, Snape, you lost this right and every other you had after you betrayed and killed Dumbledore like the fucking bastard you really are ."

"Granger."

The girl slightly turned her head to look at the other intruder. He wasn't sure why he said her name, or why he said anything at all. Every fibre of his body was telling him this was exactly what he should not be doing but he continued anyway.

"Granger, please just hear us out." He had emphasized the please, as if he thought it would help.

"Please, really Malfoy? You are asking me to listen to whatever bullshit you came up with? Why should I even speak to you, when you were the one that let them come into Hogwarts?"

Her entire body was shaking, and she looked like she was going to cry.

"Now, because of both of you, Dumbledore is no longer here to help protect us… He too, said PLEASE", she cried in the direction of the older man, "and you still killed him. You were supposed to be his ally, his friend. To think that I defended you, both of you to Harry and Ron, saying that you were not like that. That you," she said glaring at Malfoy, "were too young and not stupid enough to be a Death Eater". She did not pause, incapable of stopping the flow of words coming from her mouth. "And you, I said we needed to have faith in you, because Dumbledore trusted you. But I was wrong, was I? Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of her Age, my ass."

Severus Snape suddenly seemed to have enough and silenced her, with wandless magic.

"For once in your life Miss Granger, do shut up." Draco Malfoy almost laughed. Almost. "Now you are going to let us come in, and then listen to what we have to say," continued the former professor.

She looked at him, her face contorted with rage, and sharply nodded before moving her head in the direction of the door. If she could be silenced when he was not in possession of his wand, who knew what else he could do. Luckily, she might be able to send a message to the Order before things escalated.

With some apprehension, Draco crossed the wooden door and walked slowly through the long corridor, trying to find where they were supposed to go.

"To your left, Malfoy." The voice was sharp, and it seemed that she had been able to wordlessly counter the spell she had been targeted with. He opened the door and walked in a large living room with a beautiful piano displayed at its centre. He briefly wondered if she could play it before turning around to see her coming near them.

"Sit," she said, indicating a couch before sitting herself on the sofa facing it. They obeyed, and Draco tried not to look uneasy. He was in a muggle area, sitting in a muggle house, and about to ask a very delicate service to a very upset Muggleborn. He hoped she would be quick if she decided to kill them.

She lifted her wand and wordlessly casted a privacy charm around them.

"You have exactly five minutes to tell me how you found my home, and to convince me not to send the message I just wrote to the Order."

Snape looked surprised by her declaration and spotted something golden in her hand.

"Galleon with a Protean charm?" he asked, smirking. Dumbledore had told him about them last year, and he had been impressed by her idea. She did not answer but frowned, as if she wanted to tell him he might not want to lose the time she was generously giving him.

"Dumbledore."

He had almost not moved his lips but the name was pretty clear.

"What about Dumbledore?" she asked, rashly.

"You asked me two questions. The answer to both of them is Dumbledore," said Snape, his cold voice giving her goosebumps. She tightened her grip on her wand.

"Are you trying to convince me that Dumbledore gave you my address?" she said, looking abashed.

"Yes."

"And why, pray say, did he?" she sounded outraged, and Draco wondered how long it would take her before sending her message.

"That's easy. He wanted you to help me and, by extension, help Mister Malfoy here."

She said nothing for a few seconds, trying to process what she had just heard. When she spoke, her voice had grown harder.

"Gods, and I thought you were intelligent enough to find a plausible explanation. But this wow… this is really disgusting." She paused, unsure about what she was feeling. "You really thought I would buy it? You, trying to soften me with the memory of the man you murdered?"

"I-did-not-murder-him," he said through his teeth.

"Really? Then Harry really must change his glasses, don't you think?" she asked with a false cheery voice, "because from what he told me from that night, it looked very much like you did."

Snape made a movement in the direction of his robes, but Hermione was faster and quickly immobilized him before taking the object he had tried to extract. She looked at the tiny bottle of colourless liquid.

"Veritaserum?" it sounded like a question but by the way she had said it, it seems that she had recognized the potion and was wondering why he had brought it here. She lifted the spell, and waited for his answer.

"Indeed."

"Did you plan to use it on me?" she asked again, this time sounding angry.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger. I want you to use it on both of us, after I give you my version of the recent events."

For the second time of the night, Hermione Granger took a few minutes to study what she had just heard. What were they really doing here, at that time of the night, if not to attack her? Why did Snape look so nervous? And why did Malfoy look worse than a few weeks before, when he had had enough time to recover his health? She sat herself more comfortably and looked at her old professor, indicating she was ready to hear more. Snape took a sharp breath and began.

"I did not murder Albus Dumbledore. I just granted him the death he asked from me."

Draco Malfoy coughed nervously and looked at his companion. Not the best way to start this conversation, he thought, and apparently Granger agreed with him.

"Excuse m…" she began, but he stopped her.

"Almost a year ago, Dumbledore came to me after having crossed the path of a highly dark artefact. A ring, to be precise." He waited for her to understand what he meant before continuing. He knew that Potter had talked to her and almost saw the information sink into her brain. "Too eager in his quest, he had not seen the last curse and made the mistake to try destroying it."

She nodded, thinking aloud.

"So that's why his hand…"

"… looked as if it was dead, yes. In fact, it was. I tried my best to stop the curse from spreading but it was too late, and Dumbledore asked me how long he had before dying from it. One year was the best we could hope for, the curse being one strengthening over time."

Hermione felt her eyes beginning to water but forced herself to stay focused.

"It was the same day that we began speaking of Mister Malfoy, and more specifically the tasks Voldemort had granted him. From the beginning, I knew that Draco was supposed to fail and that this was only a punishment for Lucius's lack of success at the Ministry. He would try throughout the year, lose his health and mind to the task and, when it would be certain that he had not been able to perform what was required of him, Voldemort would kill him in front of his own parents."

Draco felt her gaze surveying him and did his best to avoid looking into her eyes.

"Could you not refuse? Or ask for another task to… redeem your family, even if you knew it was a punishment for your father's mistakes?"

"You don't say no to the Dark Lord, Granger." he told her, his voice colder than ice, "especially when he tells you, just one week after his fucking snake has bitten a man to death in your living room, that your mother is going to be his hostage until you succeed."

He was happy to see that she now looked slightly ill.

"So, if I get it right, Dumbledore asked you to kill him instead of Malfoy doing it?"

Snape nodded and waited for the next question.

"Why?"

"He thought that Mister Malfoy was too young, too innocent to risk his soul for an old man like him. And he also thought he was not a killer and would be reluctant to perform his task, even if he had the occasion."

She turned her head slightly to see Draco better, remembering what her friend had told her.

"He saw you lower your wand; you know? Harry, I mean."

He knew she was talking to him, but suddenly decided it would be best if he stared indefinitely at the ground. Knowing he would not answer, she brought her gaze back to the older man.

Hermione could not determine what the best course of action was. On the one hand, she wanted them out of her house as soon as possible. Her parents were defenceless, and she knew for sure that Snape was a better fighter than herself. If they wanted her dead, she would only have a few seconds to act, send the message to the Order and pray they would come fast enough to save her family. On the other hand, his arguments could explain some of the events, and something made her want to know if he was saying the truth. She played a few minutes with a strand of her hairs, trying to find a solution, before giving her answer.

"I accept to test you with Veritaserum. But on one condition." They stared at her, expectantly. "You take one I brew myself."

They only waited a few seconds before accepting her proposition, and she summoned a small vial in her hand, before adding a few drops in the glasses of water she had just given them.

"You should be fine with that, it's not powerful enough to confuse you. Shall we begin, then?"

"Whenever you are ready," said Snape.

"Very well." She cleared her voice, and asked her first question, loudly and intelligibly.

"Are you Severus Snape, teacher at Hogwarts?"

"I am."

Even if she was almost sure of it, hearing it said aloud made her feel better.

"When we last met, you were still a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, what are you now? What do you exactly want?"

"No longer a spy, because nobody will accept my services, but still wanting to bring the Dark Lord down."

His voice was softer than what she was accustomed to, and she wondered if it was his real one or just an effect of the potion.

"Do you have any reason to want that?"

He blushed slightly, before answering in a murmur. "He killed the woman I loved."

Draco raised his head abruptly and Hermione looked at the man before her, confused, before deciding not to push the subject further.

"You've told me your side of the story. Is everything you said true?"

"It is."

She paused. He could not lie, of that she was sure.

"Why are you here now?"

"To ask you for your help."

"What kind of help? Is it something about Malfoy here?" She hoped that not, but it now seemed unavoidable. "Something about Dumbledore telling you to come find me?"

"Yes. Before that night, Dumbledore and I decided that it would not be safe for Malfoy to come back to the Manor, even in case of success. He gave me your address and told me to bring him to you so that he could be protected from the Dark Lord. He said you would not come back to school and was sure you would go hunt the remaining Horcruxes…" Hermione paled visibly, but did not stop him. "So, after I killed Dumbledore, I faked my Godson's death in front of the other Death Eaters and sent him to a safe house Dumbledore had told me about. I left him there until I thought it was safe enough for me to come. So tonight, I decided it was time to act before it was too late."

"You know about the Horcruxes…?"

"I do. Not a lot, but enough to know what your task will entail."

"And Dumbledore wanted you to bring Malfoy to me?"

"He did."

"While knowing that I, but also Harry and Ron, would go chase after some parts of Voldemort's soul?"

She did not notice Draco's flinch when she mentioned the last part of her sentence.

"Correct."

"He wanted us, four enemies, to make peace after years of insults, threats and harassment and help save the Wizarding world?"

"From what I understand, yes."

"He really was barmy in his old age, was he not?" she asked, almost jokingly.

Draco raised a brow at the comment but thought she had just made a valid point. There was no way it would work. She would not accept, no more than The-Git-Who-Lived and Ginger-Head would. He was doomed.

"And why should I help?" she asked.

"I am closely monitored and soon I won't be able to bring him food anymore without raising suspicion. I cannot send an elf from the Manor and I don't own one. And I cannot let him hide in the Muggle word because obviously, he would not survive a day." Draco snorted, feeling a bit offended. "I have no way of knowing how long the conflict will be. And I know for sure that my Godson won't last long if I cannot give him enough supplies to survive. The safe place was supposed to shelter him only for a few weeks. It seems that Dumbledore was sure that you and your friends would accept his presence."

She turned to face Draco and this time, he felt compelled to look at her. She seemed to be thinking and he recognized the way she was biting her lips. She was hesitating.

"Malfoy…" she kept glancing at the door, as if looking for a possible issue. Or had she called for reinforcement? He could not be sure. "Do you regret what happened last year?"

"That, and so much more Granger."

She looked at him quizzically.

"What do you mean, so much more?"

He really did not want to elaborate, but the truth serum forced him to share his feelings.

"I regret admiring my father for so long. I regret wanting to be like him when I would be older. I regret not questioning the beliefs I was raised with sooner. I regret not finding out the truth about the Dark Lord while I could still run. I regret thinking that becoming a Death Eater would be my life's achievement. I regret knowing that my mother now thinks I'm dead. And finally, I regret tormenting you and the other Muggle-borns for all those years, because now I see that I was wrong but it is too late to ask for your forgiveness. Still, Granger. I apologize for my behaviour."

She did not answer to his speech and stayed silent, longer than before. Then, in a small voice, she said:

"It's never too late, Malfoy. And…" she sighed deeply, before saying almost reluctantly "… and I accept your apology."

He stared at her, astonished by her reaction. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his mouth.

Hermione let her head fall in her hands. She had to refuse. She really, really had to refuse. But why did she feel compelled to help him? He had been nothing but horrible to her, and even if he said he was sorry – and because of the Truth Serum, she knew he was – she wasn't sure she could forgive him.

But after all, she thought, was it really his fault ? He could not choose the family he lived in, and the way his parents raised him. In a way, he was like her, Harry or Ron: just a child, who had been forced to take part in a war he could not fully understand. She sighted. She had made her choice long before she even knew it.

"If I help you", she asked, looking directly at him, "will you willingly make a Vow to me, promising to help us find and destroy the Horcruxes and try to protect us if we are in any kind of danger?"

"I will." There was no hesitation in his voice, and he was looking at her intensely now.

She seemed satisfied with his answer, and got up, asking them to do the same.

"The effects should last another five minutes. We'll wait until they wear off."

She busied herself by putting the glasses in the dishwasher before coming back in the living room. Neither of them had moved.

"Are you ready to take the Vow, Malfoy?" He nodded. "Sn… professor. Can you be our bonder?"

The black-haired man came nearer and asked them to hold their hands. Draco took hers without hesitation. Hermione gave Snape his wand back and spoke.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, help me and my friend get rid of the remaining Horcruxes in order to kill Voldemort?"

"I will," said Draco.

They both looked at each other when a thin tongue of flame came around their hands. She spoke again, and this time her voice sounded more confident.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, protect us from harm, even from members of your own family?"

He swallowed hard.

"I will."

Another flame came from Snape's wand, interlinking with the first one.

"And will you, if I or my friend die, continue to fight against Voldemort until his or your death?"

This time, she noticed his hesitation.

"… I will."

The third flame joined the other two and bound themselves around their hands, sinking into their flesh.