A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Just a little longer and then school will be over, and then hopefully updates will be faster!

Thank you to: .xX, Hartwi1, KoolieoPenguinez, RosieRose, Leanora, tema, Presence of Aquarius, RoseRedMisery, RainboLuck, dizzydazzle, and Ceylon (I'm so glad someone got that! The simpler meaning of the title is that at the beginning Hermione is in a sort of insane asylum, but as the story progressed I was hoping someone would get the deeper meaning)! I read every single review with a huge smile, they make me so freakin' happy! I almost have 100!

Chapter 10: Believe Me

Draco roused much later, tangled in the mass of sheets and blankets and feeling a bit more revitalized. His body ached and as he rose and stretched, his body groaned in protest. He glanced out a window on the right wall, and observed that it was already quite bright out, well past what he normally slept till. Draco peeked over at the other side of the bed, and saw that it was vacant. Hmm, Hermione must've beaten him in getting up.

He heard the continual issuing of water from a shower just behind a door to the left. A shower sounded remarkable…to rinse away the mud and dirt that clung to his skin. That must be what Hermione was doing.

Draco contemplated about how they were going to approach the matter of showing themselves to the rest of the inhabitants of this place without all of them freaking out. He didn't exactly want to be hexed before they could even explain. He suspected Potter had a longer fuse than the most of them; Weasley would probably kill him before listening to a word of reason. Maybe Potter could tell them their story first? Or maybe Draco could just sit contentedly on their large bed until Hermione had enlightened the rest on how he had turned to their side.

At that moment, the door leading to the bathroom opened, steam rushing out. Hermione's head poked out hesitantly, but the moment she spotted him her head whipped back and the door slammed shut. Fighting a laugh, Draco called out, "Have a problem?"

A frustrated moan came from behind the closed door. "I don't have any other clothes other than these filthy rags!"

"Sounds dreadful." Draco responded, smirking to himself.

"Yes, quite! So go get some for me."

He had not expected this turn. "What?"

"Go get me one of Harry's sweatshirts and pants or something!"

Leaning against the bed, Draco shouted out, "Don't you think Weasley will kill me on sight if he spots me slinking about this house?" Really, and he thought she was smart.
"Then don't get caught! I need bloody clothes!"

"If you had thought before entering the shower, we wouldn't be in this situation! Why don't you just go get some yourself?"

"I'm NUDE!" Hermione shrieked, her voice going up an octave as she began to near desperation.

"Your point?"

Draco laughed at the aggravated scream from behind the door. "Draco Malfoy, go risk death and get me some bloody clothes or I will kill you myself!"

"Ah," Draco said, feigning exasperation, "the things I do for you."

"Thanks, dear." Hermione said sarcastically. "Just don't run into Ron. He'll most likely blow your head off."

"Thank you for that encouraging assurance."

"It's been nice knowing you."
Without another word, Draco stole into the hallway, peering over the banister. He was surprised to see that he could practically see the first floor from his position, and he could hear the clatter of plates and chatting of people. Must be lunchtime. Swiftly withdrawing his head before he was spotted, Draco took a deep breath and tiptoed down the stairs, dearly hoping there wasn't a particular stair that creaked loudly when you stepped on it.

Where had Potter said he was staying? The second floor? Or was it the third…Taking a risk, Draco peered into a door on the second floor, whispering, "Potter?" There was no answer, so he slipped into the room before someone came up the stairs.

Thankfully, it was completely deserted. There were two beds and a dresser was propped up against the far wall. Quietly, he pried open a drawer and found an assortment of clothes. Whether they were Potter's or not, he couldn't be sure, but he extracted a sweatshirt and some sweatpants before anyone would mosey up to their room and find Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, going through their belongings.

"You owe me," Draco said loudly as he reentered his and Hermione's room with a sigh of thankfulness.

"You're the best!" Hermione's far too cheery voice made him scowl, and the door opened a crack, her bare arm groping around, waiting for the clothes. He dropped them in her expecting hand and the door slammed shut. Moments later Hermione appeared in the far too large clothing. It made her malnourished self look even more sickly small. But there was a difference in her, her skin seemed to shine a bit more, and her grimy hair was clean and damp, hanging loosely and no longer a tangled mess. She looked a bit more like her old self.

"You look…clean." Draco said intelligently, and Hermione grinned.

"Why thank you. I consider that to be a compliment. You, on the other hand, look as if you could use a good shower." She passed him, patting his chest for emphasis. With a start, he realized he still didn't have a shirt on. Hermione laughed at his shocked expression.

Childishly scowling at her, Draco stepped into the bathroom. Although not quite as extravagantly vast as what he was used to at the Manor, it was well sized, equipped with a shower, a bathtub, a toilet, and a sink.

Draco relieved himself first, and then began to strip off his dirty pants, stepping across the floor to turn on the shower. He slipped into the wonderfully warm water, allowing it to cleanse him of the dirt first. His body repeatedly thanked him as he rubbed the soap over himself. He had always liked to be clean.

Draco took a far lengthier shower than he normally would have, but it felt so marvelous that he didn't want to leave it. He found it effortless to forget about all the troubling things on his mind while the water ran down his skin, found it easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, that there was no such thing as Voldemort…

But he could not flee these things forever. Eventually, he had to face them again.

"Took you long enough," Hermione said sarcastically as he finally stepped out of the shower, pulling his dirty shirt back over his head.

"Yeah, well," Draco replied, watching her flip through a book that she must've found in the room somewhere. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, actually." Hermione responded without looking up. "I was waiting for you. Harry came up when you were in the shower. He said he told the rest that someone was here that they wouldn't believe, and that he had already questioned them so they needn't worry about us being fake."

"Sounds good," Draco said, and at last, Hermione's face rose and she looked up into his eyes. Soundlessly, she stood.

"You'll come with me, right?"

The words had been on the tip of his tongue, the 'maybe I should stay here', he had been so close to saying them, but curse her, curse her neediness because how could he say no when she looked so desperate, how could he say no when she relied on him?

Draco nodded. Hermione smiled and marched to the door, opening it and turning to wait for him to follow. He obeyed like a disgustingly loyal puppy, and before he knew it, they were walking down the stairs, they were about to face who knew what…

Hermione stopped right before they would be visible to the many voices coming from the dining room. Draco glanced at her face. Apprehension, tension, and…fear? Without thinking, he took her hand in his own, the only reassurance he could possibly give. Her eyes found his and she beamed, grateful for this tiny act of compassion. Without hesitating any longer, they stepped off the final step together and into the sight of many pairs of stunned eyes.

Had he truly expected them to leap to their feet and run to Hermione with open arms, crying and laughing and rejoicing? Had he truly thought they would be so accepting with just a few questions, like Potter?

He had been right about one thing: in one moment, everyone had jumped to their feet. There were cries of anger, protest, and…was that fear? Yes, fear laced into the screams of the people who had just witnessed a Death Eater and someone they believed to be dead walk into their room. Wands were immediately out, there were bellowed cries of get back!, and Potter was suddenly in front of them, when had he gotten there? His arms were extended much like Hermione's had been only last night, he was shouting at them, commanding, was he the leader? Wands were slowly being lowered, and after the initial chaos, Draco was able to take in faces. Every Weasley, Lupin, Mad-Eye, that girl that had been the Beauxbatons champion, was that Tonks? Wasn't he related to her? Some Aurors he recognized simply because they were Aurors, McGonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick, Sprout, even Snape sat there, the only one that had not jumped to his feet, and there were students from Hogwarts, Longbottom, Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Finnigan, Thomas…and even more that he could not recognize…

"Harry…" Remus Lupin had his hands up, as if coaxing some beast, slightly stooped over, and as shaggy as ever, "please, just back away from them…"

"Look," Potter began, ignoring the werewolf, "I know this doesn't seem possible…but I asked her questions. This is Hermione. And Malfoy…he freed Hermione from Azkaban."

Ah, touching. The Boy-Who-Lived was sticking up for him.

"Harry…" Lupin was still talking as if speaking to some creature that was about to go wild. "I know how you would want to believe this…but think reasonably…we saw her body! She's dead! That is not Hermione Granger, as much as we would all like to believe it…"

Potter shook his head angrily. "I asked her questions only she would know! And she knew them!"

"Voldemort could've tortured it out of her…"

"If Voldemort knew the answer to what I asked her we'd all be dead! Trust me!" Potter turned to Weasley, who Draco noticed had lost all color and been simply standing there, transfixed. "Ron, listen…it is Hermione, you can just tell, because I know that's how I felt."

The red-head took a few tentative steps forward, but then his eyes fell on Draco, and he shook his head vehemently. "Why would he want to free her?" Ron accused, pointing a finger at Draco. Draco scowled. Could they not believe that deep inside he was a good person? Well, guess not.

Potter's green eyes met Draco's, and for a moment, he seemed unsure. "We'll just have to let them tell the story."

"You don't even know!" Lupin said angrily, his hand extended as if to point out the obvious: these people are evil.

Hermione's hand had been tightly gripping Draco's this entire time, and for a quick moment, he glanced at her expression. She was staring at them all with a very Hermione-ish expression, as if wanting to rip all of their heads off but hug them and kiss them and cry at the same time. How could they not see that it was truly her?

For the first time, Snape stood. It seemed to hush everyone into silence, and everyone stared at him expectantly, waiting. Draco knew exactly what he was doing. He was probing their mind, poking around for any lies that would point to what everyone seemed so eager to believe. And then, after a very tense moment, Snape said, "Unless this is the Dark Lord himself we are dealing with, as only he could force me to see such a story, they do not lie."

There was such intense silence that Draco felt a bit awkward. And then, breaking it, Ron stepped forward, his eyes wide, his expression hopeful, he so truly wanted to believe…"Hermione?" he asked, and Hermione nodded, and then Draco was torn from Hermione's hand as there was such a rush of people he had to take a step back, and all of them were trying to get to Hermione, to touch her, to speak to her, and all of them were crying, crying so emotionally that some were even sobbing so loud it was almost unendurable.

No one was paying attention to him anymore, no one cared, he was not loved, he was not missed, he was not needed…

But then Weasley was there, glaring at him with hard eyes and such hate, how could so much hate be directed at one person? And it was directed at him, the enemy, detested and scorned, isolated…

"If you lay a hand on her, if you dare touch her, if you dare betray us, I swear I will find you and I will kill you." The words were said through gritted teeth, the anger in his words so immense, and Draco believed him.

Draco could see Potter over Weasley's shoulder, glaring at him with the very same childish grudge, had he not just been on his side moments ago? But no, he had only pretended to be as to gain the others' trust. Draco had been used and tossed aside like some old ragdoll, he had only been there to rescue Hermione, and now he was useless, now he could be tossed aside and discarded. It was just like after he had helped rid the world of Albus Dumbledore; he had done his part, and then afterwards he had been so utterly useless.

And he, too, felt a hatred for his two past enemies surge within him, a familiar hatred that could possibly never go away, how dare they judge him, how dare they pretend like they knew him! His eyes narrowed and he stiffened defensively.

And out of nowhere Hermione was there, next to Draco, her hands on her hips as if scolding a naughty child. The room had fallen silent and everyone was watching them, staring, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Stop it," said Hermione fiercely. "The both of you," she added, glancing at Harry. Both of the boys' eyes softened immediately, and Draco felt such a surge of affection for the girl standing next to him that it was sickening. Had anyone in his life truly ever stood up for him? Who would've thought it would end up being Hermione Granger. "He's on our side, and you two better get over your stupid grudges. They're in the past. This is the present. We're all fighting for the same cause: to defeat You-Know-Who. So put it behind. That goes for you, too, Draco." Hermione said suddenly, turning to glance at the blonde standing next to her. "Now shake hands." Hermione demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

There was a moment where the three glared at each other and it seemed that the handshake was not going to happen, but then Potter, ever the hero, stepped forward and extended his hand. For a long instant Draco only stared at it, then, ever so slowly, he lifted his arm and grasped the hand of his enemy's. And then Weasley, somewhat defeated, followed suit.

They would all pretend to be allies for Hermione's sake. They would all put on a fake smile for Hermione's sake. Because, although the three of them had an innumerable amount of differences, they did have one thing in common: there was most likely not a thing that they would not do for the girl watching them with a grand smile.

Something else was running through Draco's head, however. Something far away from the cheery, bright little room where peace had returned and once again there was a crowd around Hermione. Somewhere where someone whom he admittedly loved very much could be in danger in her very own home.

His mother.

By leaving in such a frenzied haste, Draco had left his mother behind to the consequences. And in all the excitement that had happened lately, he had not spared much thought to it. But he knew that Narcissa would be questioned for his whereabouts, tortured, and possibly even killed.

He had to get to her before they killed her. He would not let her die.

A/N: On a side note, did anyone go see A Very Potter Sequel? Ugh, I wish I lived nearer to where they performed it! I hate having to wait until July to see it on YouTube! And if you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch A Very Potter Musical on YouTube. Now. :)