Bittersweet and Strange

Chapter 7: Learning You Were Wrong

"Oh, come live with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove that –"

Blaise grimaced. "Nott, if you don't shut up, I'll turn you into a swallow."

"A swallow?" Theodore echoed, the grin never leaving his face. "Why a swallow?"

"Well, maybe if you were a bird, you'd be able to sing on key."

Theodore laughed as Blaise shook his head in annoyance. "All right, I'll stop. But I do need some practice." He smirked. "Maybe serenading Granger with some sincere ballads will soften her stone-cold heart."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "And stop talking like a poet. Granger wouldn't even fall for you if you erased her memory. Just forget about it."

"I'm not giving up," Theodore said cheerfully. "I don't care if she hates me; the stubborn ones are always the most fun to tame. Besides –"

"Besides nothing. She's Draco's girl, and we've got a bet. If you whisk her away before Christmas, I'll owe you fifty galleons, and I'd prefer not to have to listen to you gloat about winning the bet and getting Granger."

Theodore clucked his tongue. "Oh, well. It was worth a try." He took to whistling, keeping time with his steps as he and Blaise walked through a bustling street after work. "Say," he continued, giving Blaise a sly look. "What was Narcissa telling you the other day?"

Blaise frowned. "Spying on me again, eh?"

"I wasn't spying!" Theodore protested. "I just happened to be passing by your office and saw her in there with you. She looked worried, so I thought I might as well ask."

"If Narcissa wanted you to know, she would have told you."

"Maybe she forgot!" Theodore insisted. "Come on, is it about Draco?"

"I'm not going to say."

"Come on, Zabini. Spill!"

"What happened the last time I told you a secret?" Blaise asked. "I told you that I was planning on asking Carice Speck to go to your mother's Christmas party with me, and –"

"I didn't tell her you were going to ask her!"

"No, but you told Alexa Newbinger, and she told Evelyn Cavanaugh, and she told Carice. So Carice got another date and I had to go alone."

"At least I spared you a rejection," Theodore said. "And anyway, that was six years ago! I won't tell. Is it something Malfoy's done?"

"Narcissa told me in confidence, Theo."

Theodore heaved an impatient sigh. "And why would she tell you and not me?"

"Maybe because I'm the mature, responsible one, and you lost her mother's chandelier?"

"It was an accident," Theodore replied. "Just tell me, Blaise."

"I don't know…"

"I can always start singing again," he threatened.

Blaise threw his hands in the air. "Fine! I guess you won't tell anyone. Narcissa said that the Ministry is starting to get really nervous about a leak."

"A leak? Like a mole or something?"

"Yeah. Apparently there's a few secrets here and there that have been leaked, but no one knows who's doing it. There's even talk that the Order might have a spy in the Ministry."

"The Order?" Theodore repeated. "Oh, come on, Blaise. The Order doesn't exist anymore!"

Blaise shook his head. "Draco thought they did. Remember when he got caught? His contact got away, and a contact doesn't just materialize. Remember what a big deal it was, everyone trying to figure out who the guy was and where the rest of the survivors were hiding?"

"Yeah, I remember," Theodore agreed. "And I guess Granger had to come from somewhere."

"Exactly. It's what I've been thinking. Narcissa said the information really started to disappear around a month and a half ago. That's the same time Draco got Granger."

Theodore frowned. "You mean, you think Granger has been working for the Ministry as a spy?"

"No," Blaise said. "There's no way she could do that unrecognized. Besides, she'd never let herself be caught as a slave, and we'd have heard all about it if the Ministry knew Hermione Granger had been captured. No, my suspicion is that Granger is part of what's left of the Order. When she was captured, the spy in the Ministry started getting frantic looking for her."

"So why haven't they located her yet? If the Ministry and the Order are looking for her, they'll find her sooner or later."

"Maybe, maybe not," Blaise argued. "According to all the records, Hermione Granger is dead, and Amelia Finberry was bought by Narcissa Malfoy. No one knows Granger is alive and in Draco's house except us and Narcissa."

"And Narcissa doesn't even know it's Granger!" Theodore realized.

"Exactly."

Theodore frowned again. "So you weren't going to tell me all this?"

"Nope. I just didn't want to hear you sing again."

Theodore laughed. "I'll have to remember to use that as blackmail. And I guess that's why we're going to Draco's, huh?"

"That's right," Blaise agreed. "I want to talk to Granger."

"As if she'd tell you anything," Theodore snorted.

"You never know. Maybe if she thinks we're on her side, she'll talk."

Theodore gave Blaise a questioning look. "Are we on her side?"

Blaise shrugged. "I don't know. These days, who does?"

Hermione sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time, halfheartedly shutting the biography she had been reading. The life of Edgar Stroulger was interesting enough, but Hermione found that she couldn't stay focused.

Six days. It had been six long, slow, excruciating days since Draco Malfoy had revealed that he was on her side.

I betrayed the Death Eaters. I tried to lead an uprising. Hermione, I know about the Order, and I almost did it. I almost made it right. I almost set you all free.

How was she supposed to react to a statement like that? Should she believe him? Everything in Hermione's head screamed at her to be wary, to not trust a solitary thing that came out of the Slytherin traitor's mouth. But there was something somewhere inside of her that couldn't shake the feeling that he was telling the truth. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when he made his revelation, with guileless, saucer-wide eyes and a pleading gaze. Maybe it was his tone of voice: calm and gentle, yet firm and honest. If Draco was just acting and trying to fool her, Hermione thought he deserved an award.

It had been six days, and in those six days, Hermione had not seen, heard, or sensed Draco anywhere in the house. Granted, she had made it clear to him that she didn't want to talk to him – as soon as he told her he was with the Order, she had kicked him out of her room and called him a liar and a sadist – but the six days had passed agonizingly slowly. For the first two days, Hermione had not left her bedroom and had whacked mercilessly at the vines on her window. But when she finally ventured into the hallway on the third day, unable to ignore her stomach growls any longer, she found no sign of the other person living in the house with her.

In the three days following that, Hermione had only left her room once, and then only to fill her water jug with enough to last her for a while longer. Hermione knew that Narcissa would be coming by, probably in the next day or two, and she didn't want to think about it. Staying locked in her bedroom for days on end seemed pointless and potentially harmful to both of them, but Hermione wasn't ready to face Draco yet. Not after the way she screamed insults at him for mocking her and trying to deceive her. Not after blatantly ignoring him for six days. And especially not after she couldn't think of one reason that he might be lying.

Draco, Narcissa, Blaise, and Theodore had not said a single thing that contradicted Draco's claim. Though very little had been spoken about Draco's life before the curse – everyone seemed to skirt around it, actually – Draco had obviously done something to infuriate Voldemort, and what better way to do that than try to bring back the very thing that had fought Voldemort in the first place? Cursing Draco to a monotonous, everyday punishment seemed decidedly un-Voldemort-like, but Hermione supposed that there could very easily be a reason.

Still, six days had given birth to a thousand questions. Why did Draco decide to help the Order? Had he been working undercover for them all along? If so, why didn't she – one of the ringleaders of the remaining Order – know about him? How much did Draco know about the Order? Who was his contact? How many others in the Ministry know about the uprising? How many agreed with him? How many had helped him? Did he still believe in what he had nearly died for? Was it safe to even ask?

It would appear that Hermione's curiosity was conquering her fear.

Stacking her biography on top of the rest of the books she had collected, Hermione stood from where she had been sitting on her bed and faced the door. Taking a deep breath and willing herself to have a little courage, she strode for the door and marched into the hallway, ready to confront Draco and satisfy her curiosity. If she had to eat some humble pie to get answers, then so be it.

However, Hermione's plan was better than the execution. Draco was nowhere to be found. After cautiously skulking through the hallway, discretely peeking into Draco's empty bedroom, and padding down the staircase, Hermione found herself slightly unsettled. A quick run-through of the first and third floors proved unsuccessful as well, and the only other option was the basement. Based on her previous experiences in trying to get into the basement, Hermione had no intention of trying to seek Draco out down there.

So she waited. A layer of dust had settled over the house once again in the last week, and Hermione took advantage of her situation. After dusting and sweeping through the main rooms of the first floor, Hermione set to work in the kitchen, whipping up a quick dinner of vegetable soup while she worked. She was surprised that the noise didn't attract Draco's attention. But, then again, I did say some rather horrid things to him, didn't I? Hermione mused. Maybe an apology would be the best thing she could offer, whether he was telling the truth or not. Besides, if Draco really was on her side, the last thing she needed to do was keep antagonizing him.

Even though she didn't want to do it, Hermione finally talked herself into venturing into the basement. Spending a couple of hours out of her room had bolstered her courage, and she arduously began the climb to the second floor. She briefly considered fetching the map just in case she needed it, but she really didn't want to have to touch it again. She wasn't even sure where Draco had put it.

Pushing her doubts aside, Hermione nudged the second-floor door open, noting that the lock she had picked with the knife was not locked; rather, the door was cracked open and swung wide the moment she touched it. Nothing in the room appeared changed, but there was a long crack in the righthand corner of the walls that hadn't been there the last time Hermione examined it. In fact, a thin shaft of light was poking through the crack, further reassuring Hermione that Draco was down there.

She wondered how he would respond to her coming down to see him. She had made it very clear that she didn't want to see him, and he obviously didn't want her in the basement. But she just couldn't let the matter go any longer. Hermione's pulse quickened as she wondered what she would say. She regretted her flash temper lashing out at him, but she reasoned that she had been startled, confused, afraid, and angry all at the same time, leading to a rash reaction. Hopefully, Draco would understand.

Hermione slowly placed her hand on the wall and applied pressure. The wall very slowly creaked open, and Hermione winced at the echoing sound. The element of surprise was no longer on her side. Her cover blown, Hermione simply pushed the wall the rest of the way and ignored the heavy creaks that accompanied it, noting that the door was surprisingly easy to move. When the wall was just wide enough to enter, Hermione squeezed through and found herself in a tunnel, only big enough for her.

A single torch lit the stone walls around her, giving off an eerie glow in the already damp twilight. The tunnel only led one way: a downward slope that twisted off to the right. Steeling her nerves, Hermione swallowed hard and made her way down the tunnel, following the sharp twists and turns as she descended. The lower into the ground the tunnel wound, the darker it became, and Hermione wished she had taken the torch from the entrance. When the tunnel grew so dark that she could no longer see the ground in front of her, Hermione considered turning back.

A few steps more, and Hermione saw the literal light at the end of the tunnel. The shaft appeared to empty into a spacious room several yards ahead, and Hermione crossed the distance quickly, stepping into the cavern and covering her mouth in surprise.

The room was at least as large as the ballroom, if not larger. Its walls ran in a circular shape, dotted with candles and torches that lent a cozy, almost unearthly feel to the room. The ceiling stretched high, so high that Hermione had to crane her neck to see the hewn marks that scratched across the rock cavern ceiling. The entire room appeared to be man-made, with indents in the rock that could only have been carved by tools.

The contents of the room were just as surprising. An enormous mahogany table with intricately chiseled designs filled the center of the room, dominating the view with its sheer size. Around the table were several chairs and carts. Every surface that Hermione could see was covered in bottles, boxes, containers, pouches, and all sorts of equipment that made the table look like a mad scientist's lair. Books of all kinds were scattered throughout the clutter as well, and Hermione suddenly noticed the towering bookshelves on the opposite side of the room, packed with more books than Hermione could ever imagine reading or even collecting. A large black board hung on one wall, and several unfamiliar tools beside it. All in all, the room looked more like a laboratory than anything else.

Hermione simply stood for several more minutes, raking in as much information as she could gather just by standing in the doorway. The atmosphere of the room was not one of secrecy and oppression, as she might have guessed, but rather she felt welcomed, almost as if she were being invited to enter and explore. So she did just that, taking a few cautious steps into the laboratory before reaching out to brush her fingers along the edge of the table.

So I'm not imagining this place after all, Hermione thought.

Hermione walked the length of the table, examining everything she passed but not daring to touch anything. All the bottles and boxes were neatly labeled and seemed to be organized, though Hermione didn't understand the method. Everything seemed to be potions ingredients, but many of them were unfamiliar to Hermione. After rounding the far end of the table, Hermione noticed that one of the magnificent bookshelves housed nothing but jars and vials of all manner of potions, all labeled and organized like the ingredients.

Hermione shook her head in wonder. Had Draco done all this? If so, what was he planning to do with it all? Surely it had taken many years to collect so many potions. How could he possibly have gotten them in his cursed state? Had he… had he made them himself? It was impossible! Then again, Hermione thought, he's had five years of isolation to do anything he wanted to in here. Still, Draco Malfoy was no potions master. Hermione remembered their days at Hogwarts, when Snape was always awarding points to Slytherin for Malfoy's work. Hermione had always assumed that Snape was just showing favoritism; could Malfoy really have been that good?

Hermione quickly scanned the titles on the rest of the bookshelves. Most of the books appeared to be books on potions, with a few spell books and instruction manuals thrown in, as well. Hermione approached the large black board hanging on the lefthand wall in wonder. An enormous tome lay open on a little bench near the board. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw that the book was a highly detailed guide to wandless magic.

It made sense. Draco didn't have a wand; he wanted to learn wandless magic. It didn't explain the potions, but Hermione already had a few ideas for that. She had been hoping that a trip to the basement would clear up some of her questions, but instead it had only raised more curiosity. At the thought, Hermione turned and looked around the rest of the room. She had been so wrapped up in her discoveries that she had completely forgotten about Draco.

Edging around the table and keeping her back to the bookcases, Hermione walked as quietly as possible. It was several moments before she saw a piece of furniture that she hadn't noticed before. It was a writing desk, carved as elegantly as the rest of the furniture in the room. More of the same kind of potions supplies were scattered across the desk, along with apers, pens, inkwells, and – to Hermione's surprise – the very map she had discovered.

There was a door in one wall, one that looked similar to the door to the tower's entrance. Hermione forced back a smile as she recalled Draco's reaction to her admitting she had been in the tower. I'll bet that door leads straight to the tower, she thought. She had been close to the answer all along.

Still, the question remained: where was Draco? Hermione willed herself to walk away from the desk and examine the rest of the room. She could always come back when Draco wasn't there and explore further. For now, she had a million questions, and only one person could answer them. She found her answer when she rounded the corner of the desk.

Draco was lying on the floor behind the desk, white as death and surrounded by a pool of blood.

"No, just open the door. Merlin, it's not that difficult."

"I know, I know. Say, looks pretty clean."

Blaise and Theodore both stepped into the entry hall of Draco's home and shut the door behind them. "This place always gives me the shivers," Theodore remarked.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say." He cleared his throat, then shouted as loudly as he could, "Malfoy! You've got company!"

Blaise's shout echoed through the stone walls of the house, but there was no reply. Theodore snickered. "Maybe he's asleep," he suggested.

"At five o'clock?" Blaise scoffed. "He's probably in the basement."

Theodore raised an eyebrow skeptically. "What makes you think that?"

"He always answers when we call, so he obviously didn't hear us."

"Again, maybe he's asleep," Theodore said. "You never know, him and Granger…"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Fine. Where do you think they are?"

"Well… maybe they're up in the tower." Theodore's eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Maybe they're having a wild –"

"I don't want to hear the end of that sentence," Blaise interrupted. "Go check the tower if you want to. I'm going to look in the basement."

"Tower leads to the basement anyway," Theodore pointed out. "I'll meet you down there."

"Fine."

Theodore smirked. "Just be warned; if I find Granger first, I may be a little late. That's okay, right?"

Blaise gave Theodore a look that silenced any further question about Granger, but he thought he heard a faint off-key humming coming from behind him as they trudged up the steps and entered the empty bedroom.

"Why do you ever question my logic, Theo?" Blaise asked, nudging Theodore with his elbow as he gestured toward the open door to the secret tunnel.

"Well, everybody has their off days," he muttered. Shouldering through the open door, Theodore shouted down into the tunnel, "Malfoy! You down there, mate?"

There was no answer for a moment, and Theodore gave Blaise a triumphant look.

"Well, come on," Blaise said. "We can at least take a look."

The two Slytherins carefully made their way down the tunnel, bickering back and forth and occasionally calling out to Draco. They entered the cavern without hesitation, and Blaise said, "Draco? Are you in here?"

Blaise suddenly felt a tug on his arm, and he turned to face a wide-eyed Theodore. Before he could speak, he noticed that Theodore was pointing to the right side of the cavern. One look at the situation told him everything he needed to know.

Blaise crossed the distance to the desk in three angry strides, and Granger watched him do it, backing up from where she had been kneeling next to Draco and raising her hands in defense when she saw the look on Blaise's face. "Zabini, I swear, I didn't do it."

Theodore placed a hand on Blaise's shoulder to hold him back, but Blaise's reply was no less infuriated. "You little fiend! You filthy, ungrateful Mudblood! How could you do it?"

Granger's face was determined and defiant. "I didn't do a thing to him, Zabini, and I certainly don't appreciate the Mudblood comment."

Blaise snarled at her, starting to pull his wand out. Granger suddenly shrank back, trying to shield herself with her arms. Blaise lowered his wand and ignored her, instead kneeling next to where Draco lay.

"Granger," Theodore said evenly, "if you didn't do this, who did?"

She slowly shook her head, obviously trying to formulate an answer that would make sense. "I… I don't know. I just came down and found him like this. I swear, I just found him…"

Theodore nodded, then knelt down next to Blaise. "Is he alive?"

"I think so," Blaise answered. "His pulse is weak, but he's still breathing."

"How does he look?"

"How does he look to you?" Blaise snapped. He sighed and forced himself to speak more calmly. "I don't know much about medicine. I don't know what's wrong with him or what to do."

Hermione stepped forward after a moment, nervously facing the two men. "Well, for starters, we can get him off the floor," she said as bravely as she could. "I can go upstairs and get his bed ready, if you'll bring him up."

"If you know that, what's he doing still on the floor?" Blaise asked her sharply.

Hermione glared back at him. "I only found him a few minutes ago, Zabini. I don't have any magic to levitate him with, and there's no chance I could get him upstairs alone."

Blaise started to retort, but Theodore interrupted him. "Good thing we came by then," he commented.

Hermione and Blaise were still glaring at each other. "I can think of a few thing I would have done," Blaise said icily. "And I can think of a few things I'd like to –"

"Blaise," Theodore interrupted again. "Deal with Malfoy now, Granger later, right? He's the one bleeding out on the floor."

Blaise sighed. "Yeah. Come on, Theo, help me out. You go get his bed ready," he barked at Hermione. She glared at him a moment more before jogging to the entrance of the cavern and out of sight.

Theodore pulled out his wand and quickly performed the levitating charm on Draco, with Blaise carefully keeping Draco's head aloft. They moved toward the entrance together and slowly made their way through the tunnel.

"This would be a lot easier if we could just Apparate," Theodore commented, receiving only a grunt from Blaise in reply. "The tower would have been an easier way to go."

Blaise shook his head. "Just as long both ways. This way has less stairs."

Theodore shrugged. "I guess that's why you're the brains."

The walk through the tunnel seemed to last an eternity, but they finally made it to the empty bedroom, where Hermione was anxiously standing in the doorway. She scurried out of their way as they brought Draco through, and she stayed at their heels as they carefully levitated Draco into his own bedroom and onto the bed.

"Go get a wet washcloth, Granger," Blaise ordered, not even looking at her.

Hermione eyed him steadily. "Get it yourself."

"Do what he says, Granger," Theodore recommended, but Hermione just shook her head.

"He doesn't need a washcloth," she said. "He's suffering from some kind of shock. If you'll pull his eyelids back, his pupils are dilated. That's a sure sign of shock."

"Oh, and what are you, a nurse? A healer?" Blaise scoffed, turning to face her.

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "No, it's just that most Muggles find it useful to know a little about first aid. I think you'll find it comes in handy during situations like this."

Blaise set his jaw. "All right, so why's he bleeding, Madam Healer? I don't think that's an effect of shock."

"No," she replied steadily. "Like a lot of shock victims, he bit his tongue when he hit the ground. Open his mouth. You'll see."

Blaise cast a suspicious glance at her and then Theodore, then turned to open Draco's mouth. Sure enough, the blood that had been coming from his mouth had saturated a white cloth wrapped around his tongue.

"What's that?" Blaise asked, pointing at the rag.

"Part of my shirt," Hermione answered, indicating a tear at the hem of her blouse. "I used it as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding."

"And when was that?"

"I finished it just before you two came down. He had lost a lot of blood already."

"But you –"

"Blaise," Theodore broke in. "Just leave it. She might have saved his life."

Blaise glared at him but didn't say any more.

Hermione eyed him a moment longer before speaking. "I don't know what caused the shock, though. I've been in the house with him the whole time, and I don't think anyone could get in. Even if they did, I would have heard the commotion."

"Has Draco been acting strange lately?" Blaise asked. "Has he acted suicidal or reckless or given any indication that he could be sick?"

Hermione shook her head. "I… I haven't seen him in a few days, so I don't know for sure, but last time I saw him, he was in normal condition."

Blaise narrowed his eyes to slits. "What do you mean, you haven't seen him in a few days? You live with him, Granger! How do you live with a person and not see them for a few days!"

Hermione bit her lip nervously, trying not to sound shaky. "Well… we had an argument. We had an argument, and I told him to leave me alone. I've been in my room for the last few days –"

"How many days?" Blaise demanded.

"Six days."

Blaise's mouth dropped open, and Theodore gawked at her. "Six days?" Theodore repeated. "It's been six days since you saw Draco?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "Yes, it's been six days."

"So Draco could have been lying in the basement for almost a week," Blaise ground out, "while you sat in your room with your nose in a book?"

Hermione frowned at him. "I had a right. It's not as if he runs my life."

"You're his slave!"

"Not by my own choice! I'm here because I have to be. Malfoy doesn't force me to do anything, and I still had the right to stay in my room if I wanted to. I came out by my own free will, and if I hadn't, who knows what might have happened?"

Theodore furrowed his eyebrows together in thought. "If you haven't seen him in six days, how do you know he hadn't been lying there the whole time?"

"I'd say it happened today. I thought I heard him moving around yesterday, and he probably would have been dead if he had been bleeding all night. My guess is that he wouldn't have lived much longer if I hadn't come down when I did."

"What do want, a thank you?" Blaise sneered.

Hermione glared at him. "A little more trust would be appreciated."

"Why should we trust you? Not only are you a Mudblood traitor, but you're the only person who could possibly have hurt Draco like this. Don't expect a thank you, Granger, because you're not getting one."

Theodore cleared his throat. "Blaise, calm down. There could always be another explanation."

Blaise set his jaw stubbornly, turning to stare at the wall. "I'm going to get him some water. I'll be right back."

Hermione and Theodore watched him go, then Theodore turned to face Hermione, a serious look on his face. "Granger," he said carefully, "did you do something to Draco?"

"No," Hermione replied firmly. "I told you before, Nott, I found him like that."

Theodore twisted his mouth to the side, then nodded. "All right. I'll believe you. I'll do what I can to convince Blaise, too."

Hermione nodded her thanks. "Could Voldemort have done this?"

Theodore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "It was just a thought. Draco's Dark Mark was glowing when I first saw him, and his scars looked like they were about to pop off his face. It just looked like some sort of magical infirmity to me."

"It's an interesting thought," Theodore mused. "I doubt Voldemort is behind it, but you never know." Theodore's green eyes suddenly met Hermione's, and he spoke more softly, making Hermione lean in to listen. "Granger, how much do you know about Draco's curse and his life before it?"

Hermione looked down at the floor, not knowing how much she could say. "Well," she stammered, "I don't know much. Narcissa told me about the curse itself and how it works, and Draco has mentioned some things here and there. I didn't know anything about the curse until Narcissa bought me, so I don't know anything outside of what they've told me."

Theodore nodded thoughtfully. "So you don't know why Voldemort cursed him?"

Hermione swallowed again, trying to decide whether she could trust Theodore or not. "Well, I…"

She was saved by Blaise, who strode into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a washcloth in the other. "I may not know much about medicine, but I do know –" He stopped short as he noticed Theodore backing up from Hermione. "Theodore," he said, "I swear on Merlin's grave, if you were trying to seduce Granger right now –"

"Of course not," Theodore replied quickly. "I was just trying to get a little more information. Besides, I look for any opportunity to get close to Granger," he added with a wink at Hermione.

She merely rolled her eyes. "Forget about it, Nott."

Blaise set the glass and washcloth on the little table next to Draco's bed and turned to face Hermione. "Granger," he began, "what were you and Draco fighting about?"

Hermione felt her throat get tighter. It seemed that she was going to have to either trust them or make up a lie. Neither option was desirable. "I don't think it's any of your business," she said bluntly, earning a glare from Blaise and a smirk from Theodore. "Besides, it has nothing to do with any of this. The fight was six days ago, and you can ask Draco when he wakes up if you want to know so badly."

Blaise frowned. "You really are a persnickety little bint, aren't you?" He sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter, though. Theodore, why don't you go downstairs and see if you can find anything around the desk that might tell us what happened."

Theodore glanced at Hermione, then nodded and headed for the door. When he was gone, Hermione fixed her eyes on Blaise and asked, "What's the laboratory for?"

Blaise gave her an unreadable look. "What do you mean?"

"The basement. What does Draco do down there?"

"You mean, you don't know?" he asked, eyes wide.

Hermione shook her head. "It was the first time I've ever been down there."

Blaise leaned against the bedpost, giving Hermione a guarded yet curious stare. "Look, Granger, I don't know what in the world you and Draco do all day, but if he hasn't told you, there must be a reason."

Hermione shook her head. "He might have, but I got angry with him before he could explain."

"Explain what?" Blaise pressed. "Granger, you're leaving out a lot of this story. The more you tell me, the better we'll understand what's going on."

"I'm not telling you," she said stubbornly. "You don't need to know."

"Then you don't need to know about the laboratory!"

Hermione huffed an impatient sigh, crossing her arms and turning away from Blaise. He didn't say anything, just looked at her curiously. Though Hermione couldn't see him, she could imagine the wheels turning in his head. She could imagine that his unasked questions were burning him up inside as badly as hers were doing to her.

Finally, Blaise broke the silence. "Granger," he said calmly, all traces of his former anger gone. "Where did you come from?"

Hermione raised her eyes to watch him carefully. She had absolutely no reason to trust Blaise, especially after the way he had lashed out at her. He was a Ministry employee and a minion of Voldemort, making him and enemy to the Order and everything it stood for.

"Why should I tell you, Zabini?" Hermione queried, sounding more tired than angry.

Blaise shrugged. "There's a mole in the Ministry. It's thrown quite a scare into everyone. Seven years is long enough for the survivors of Voldemort's bloodbath to band together and start a rebellion. I don't know for sure, but I'd say you're a big part of that rebellion – if it exists. You're the last of the Golden Trio. You must know everything that goes on behind Voldemort's back." Blaise stood, slowly walking toward Hermione. When she didn't back away, he stopped and continued talking. "I don't know how you ended up in a slave market, Granger, but there's got to be a reason. You've been assumed dead for years, and as much as I'm dying to ask how you've made it this long, I know you won't tell me, so I won't ask. I'll just say this: if you really are part of a new Order and you really didn't try to kill Draco, then the four of us need to sit down and talk sometime. I think that could be an interesting evening."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Blaise's gaze lingered on her a moment longer, then he backed off and started tending to Draco. Hermione simply watched him.

"You don't really think Granger hurt Draco, do you?"

Theodore's question hung in the air for a moment as he and Blaise walked out of Draco's house and into the streets ahead. "No," Blaise replied. "I don't, but I don't want her to start thinking she can get away with anything, either. We've got to watch her. You never know what she might do."

"I think she's trustworthy," Theodore said with a shrug.

"Pretty doesn't always equal trustworthy," Blaise reminded him.

Theodore smiled. "I know. It's more than that, though. I think she really does care about Draco to a certain degree, and I don't think she'd hurt him unless he tried to hurt her. And I think we both know he didn't do that."

"Yeah. It still bothers me the way she skirted around talking about their fight. Something important happened, and I need to know what it was."

"Why?" Theodore asked.

"I don't know," Blaise shrugged. "It's just that Draco's our friend, and I wish he didn't have to fight all these battles alone. I wish we could help him somehow."

"He's got Granger now."

"Yeah," Blaise said. "I know. Still, I feel like a pretty sorry excuse for a friend."

"Then don't think about it," Theodore said cheerfully. "Anyway, what do you think caused the shock?"

Blaise shook his head. "I have no idea. It would have had to have been something major, and Granger honestly seemed not to know what had happened." He suddenly brightened, stopping and turning to look at Theodore. "You found something in the basement, didn't you?"

Theodore grinned. "You know me too well, Zabini."

"Well, what was it?"

"This." Theodore reached into a pocket of his robes and produced a paper, rolled up tightly. He handed it to Blaise, who carefully unrolled it.

"Theodore," Blaise said, "this is the floorplan of Draco's house. What's so important about that?"

Theodore pointed at a corner of the paper. "Touch that right there."

Blaise gave his friend a suspicious look, but did as he said. As soon as his fingers touched the paper, Blaise felt dizzy and noticed that the world around him was suddenly spinning. In a few seconds, he was standing in another place, staring at the burned remains of a once-beautiful mansion. Grimmauld Place, he realized.

In a few seconds, Blaise had Apparated back to where Theodore was standing, on the street in front of Draco's house.

"Well?" Theodore asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Blaise said. "It's a portkey to Grimmauld Place. Where Draco Malfoy was discovered having a secret meeting with someone believed to be a part of the new Order."

Theodore nodded. "Exactly, old buddy. And if my guess is correct, Grimmauld Place is where we might find our mole. And maybe the Order along with it."

Hermione sat in a chair next to Draco's bed, her elbow propped onto the table beside her and her head resting on her hand. Blaise and Theodore had finally left, and she felt mentally exhausted. Blaise had quizzed her for nearly an hour on any possible way that Draco could have been injured, but they had come up with no answers. After making sure Draco was stabilized and instructing Hermione on what to do in case of an emergency, Blaise and Theodore had gone home, leaving Hermione alone with Draco once again.

Hermione took the opportunity to study Draco's face as he slept. The terrible chalkiness that had permeated his scars earlier had faded, leaving them a dull white color. Funny, Hermione thought. I hardly even notice the scars anymore. Narcissa had told her that she would get used to them, but Hermione hadn't believed her.

Sitting by Draco's bedside gave Hermione time to think about all the things Blaise and Theodore had said. She mulled over their words for nearly an hour before suddenly noticing that Draco's eyes were no longer closed.

She stood, moving to sit on the edge of Draco's bed and place her hand on his forehead. "How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

Draco merely stared at her, his milky eyes betraying his pain as he tried to speak. "Like I just woke up from the dead," he rasped, barely loud enough for her to hear.

"What happened?" she asked.

Draco shook his head slightly. "I don't know. One minute, I was standing by my desk, and the next I was falling. I could hear your voice. I heard other voices, too. Were Zabini and Nott here?"

Hermione nodded. "They left about an hour ago."

"Did they treat you all right?" Draco asked suddenly. "I know they're usually all right, but if I wasn't there –"

"It was fine," Hermione assured him. "It's a good thing they came by. I would never have gotten you up the stairs by myself."

Draco's eyes suddenly widened. "You mean… you've been in the basement?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to talk to you."

Draco swallowed, his eyes clouding with worry. "I didn't want you to come down there."

"Well, the fact is that I did. And I probably saved your life, so don't be so crabby about it."

Draco managed a small smile. "All right. What did you want to talk about?"

Hermione took a deep breath. Here it was. "Well…" She impulsively reached forward and took one of his hands in both of hers. "Malfoy – that it, Draco – I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for kicking you out like that and not listening to you. I was scared and angry and confused, and I didn't know what to think. And I just wanted you to know…" She cleared her throat and looked him straight in the eye. "I wanted you to know that I believe you, and I'm ready to listen to what you have to say."

A/N: Hello, dear readers! First of all, I'd like to apologize for the ridiculously longa bout of time it's taken to update. My internet went out, and I've been trying to get it fixed. I'm sorry you had to wait so long. I made this chapter a little longer to make up for it ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for your sweet and encouraging comments! It means so much more than you'll ever know! It absolutely makes my day, and I constantly go back and read them. You are the very best!

Also, I'm going to see the Last Jedi in about thirty minutes, so whoopee! I'll see you all hopefully soon with a new chapter! Let me know what you think, and Merry Christmas!