Bittersweet and Strange
Chapter 10: A World of Difference
"Hand up! A little more to the left. Don't look sideways. Always keep your mind focused on what you're doing. There, that's it. Good. Now up a little. That's good, Granger!"
Hermione let her hand drop and used the opposite one to wipe off the sweat that had formed on her brow. Draco's basement/laboratory was freezing cold in the December air, but Hermione had worked up a sweat with her intense concentration.
Draco had made good on his promise to teach her wandless magic. Though she had already known the basics, the previous week and a half had opened new worlds to her in the ways of magic. It seemed like years had gone by since she had done any magic, and though wandless magic was definitely harder and more stressful, it felt good to know she wouldn't be defenseless should the unthinkable happen and she be discovered. Granted, she would be no match for someone armed with a wand, but it certainly made her feel better.
Draco turned from his position in front of Hermione and stooped to pick up the chair she had just been lifting from four feet away. She was showing incredible progress already, having mastered in a week and a half things that had taken him a year to accomplish. No wonder she was always top of her classes, he thought ruefully.
Taking his cue that they were stopping for a break, Hermione settled herself on a nearby chair and smoothed her hair back from her face. "So," she said, "I feel like I'm improving."
Draco set the chair upright and hid a small smile. "You're doing all right, I suppose." Merlin forbid she get a big head on top of all that skill.
She made no effort to hide her own smile. "Just all right?"
He shrugged. "Let's not get carried away."
Hermione nodded, seemingly pacified with that answer. She looked around the room, though she had already done it a hundred times that day alone. The laboratory was a room she hadn't had much of a chance to explore, even since hers and Draco's lessons had begun. They had settled into a routine: lessons all morning, a quick lunch, then cleaning, potion-making, and anything else during the afternoons. It was frighteningly domestic, and Hermione was afraid she was getting used to it far too easily.
Still, what could she do? It wasn't as if attacking the vines was doing her any good, and contacting the Order was out of the question. She still hadn't made up her mind whether or not to try to get Blaise and Theodore in on helping her, but honestly it was her best idea yet, which was a sickening thought. It had been close to three months since her capture, and there was no sign that the Order had even been looking for her. Hermione guessed that they were probably looking for Dennis first, and while that's the way she would have wanted it, it still stung that she was stuck in a seemingly hopeless situation indefinitely.
"Suddenly develop an interest in Drought of the Living Death, Granger? It doesn't seem like something you'd want."
Draco was giving her a smirk, something he seemed to do more often now that they were getting comfortable with each other's presence. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just lost in thought, Malfoy," she quipped. "You should try it some time."
"I've had six years to wallow in thought," he replied. "I'd rather not get lost in my own head. It's a surprisingly dangerous place to get lost."
"Not so surprising, if you ask me," Hermione said. "But I'll withhold comment."
Draco nodded appreciatively. "Good. In that case, care to continue with our lesson?"
"More like viewing session," Hermione grumbled under her breath. Draco had an irksome habit of demonstrating a spell, then watching while she tried to imitate it, offering no advice or commentary. While she welcomed the silence, it would have been nice to know if she was doing things correctly. Draco's teaching methods were getting better, but not by much.
"Don't slander your mentor," Draco shot back. "Or I'll set you to work scrubbing every window on the third floor."
Hermione scoffed. "You'll just end up helping me – not that that hovel up there isn't a two-person job. And don't even get me started on the disaster that is this basement."
"It's my workspace," Draco protested. "I need to have everything laid out where I can see it."
"It's not so disorganized as it is dusty. Every time I wave my hand, I kick up a cloud of dust that could fell an elephant."
"Sure that's not just your own personal dust cloud, Granger?"
"If I have my own personal dust cloud, it's from living in this house for three months!"
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but he suddenly cocked his head to the side and looked at her strangely. "Three months?" he repeated. "I... didn't realize it had only been three months."
"Already feel like it's a lifetime of suffering my presence, Malfoy?" she teased.
He shook his head, still looking vaguely astonished. "I guess. I mean, it just feels like you've been here longer." Dropping his serious tone, he grinned wolfishly and added, "But you are pretty insufferable."
Hermione wiped the smug grin off his face with a cleaning rag, and the aid of a little wandless magic.
The conference room in the Fortress was bustling with Order members, all of them chattering and carrying on about subjects related and unrelated to the matter they were gathered about. The only one who wasn't participating in the clamor was Neville, who was alternating between scanning the words on a piece of parchment and scribbling on a paper next to his seat at the head of the conference table. He looked up briefly, then continued with his work.
"What's all this about?" Michael Corner asked Padma Patil. "Since when do we have meetings at eleven o'clock at night?"
Padma shrugged, glancing at Neville and then back to Michael. "Hanged if I know. I was on watch in the East Tower, and Luna said Neville wanted us all in here immediately. Sure hope nobody tries to get in while no one's guarding the place."
Michael nodded appreciatively. "And she didn't say what Neville wanted?"
"Not a word. Must be important though, to drag everyone away from their posts."
Michael didn't get a chance to respond, as Neville stood and said loudly, "If everybody'll take a seat, we'll get started."
The Order, some of them half-asleep, shuffled to take seats at the long meeting table, muttering softly among themselves. Once everyone had been seated and had quieted down, Neville cleared his throat and said, "Thanks for coming, guys. I know this is short notice and you all have things to do, but this is very important." He turned to face Cho Chang, who was seated to Neville's right. "Cho, you can tell it."
Cho's eyes were bright as she stood, a piece of blue paper in her hand, and she did little to mask the excitement in her voice. "I just got a message from Katie Bell," Cho announced, gesturing to the paper in her hand. "It's the first we've heard from her in nearly two months."
Above the muted din, Cho managed to hear Nigel shout, "What did she say?"
"She says, and I quote," Cho said as the Order quieted down once more, "Couldn't meet at Rook. Unforeseen circumstances. Will meet at HW at 12. Important." When Cho finished reading the message, the Order was uncharacteristically quiet, each running over the message in their minds.
Finally, George broke the silence. "HW?"
Neville nodded. "Hogwarts. It was part of a code Katie and Cho used when they first started communicating."
"So Katie wants to meet at the Hogwarts ruins?" Dean asked. "Is that not dangerous? Seems to me that Hogwarts would be a place pretty closely watched by the Ministry."
Neville shook his head. "Fleur's been keeping an eye on it. She's been down there about five times, and every time it's deserted. I think after eight years, the Ministry has given up on trying to catch us there."
"And we're sure this is from Katie?" Seamus added. "I remember last time we got a message, we all went to Luna's old house and waited for eight hours in the freezing cold. Katie never showed up."
"This is Katie," Cho said, sounding a bit defensive. "She's the only one who would say 'HW' instead of Hogwarts."
Neville nodded in acquiescence. "We're pretty sure, Seamus. There's always the possibility that it's a fake, but there's really no way to tell."
"So, midnight?" George said. "Does that mean tonight?"
"I got this about seven o'clock," Cho replied. "She didn't specify any other day, so I'm sure she meant tonight."
"So that give us, what?" Angelina commented. "An hour?"
"Yeah." Neville's voice sounded grim. "That's why we're all here so late. I need to assemble a team to meet Katie."
"I'll go," George volunteered immediately.
Neville gave him a wary glance. "I don't know, George. You've been high on the Ministry's radar lately. It may not be wise to send you into an unknown situation."
"Neville," George said seriously, "I'm going crazy in here. I've been in the Fortress for months without leaving. I've got to get out of here and do something to be useful, or I'm going to bust! It's not even that dangerous of a mission."
"It's still uncertain," Angelina reminded him.
George looked at Neville, who shrugged. "If you're willing to take the chance, George, I won't stop you. Any more volunteers?"
Within minutes, a team of seven – consisting of Neville, Cho, George, Angelina, Dean, Seamus, and Nigel – had been assembled and was ready to go. Polyjuice Potion was precious, so they didn't bother to use it, but they wore cowls to shadow their faces and quickly came up with a plan in case they somehow got separated or something went wrong. At half-past eleven, the covert group set out, with promises to return by twelve-thirty.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Millicent Bulstrode said, giving a half-hearted wave as the rest of the Order watched Neville's group Apparate.
Luna placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Millicent," she said. "Maybe this will turn the tide somehow."
"I think we should move the desk so we can get into that corner to clean," Hermione stated, setting down her water bucket and pulling her rolled-up sleeves higher on her arms. "There's no telling what kind of creatures have bred in that dust-trap."
Draco strode over from where he had been polishing a set of potion vials and stood next to Hermione, giving her a skeptical eye. "I'm not moving the desk."
"Why not? It's –"
"If I move my desk," he explained petulantly, "I'm going to have to move everything in it, and it'll take me forever to get things back the way I like them."
Hermione turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest in her best Molly Weasley impression. "Do you mean to tell me that in all the time you've lived here, you haven't moved that desk from the corner?"
"Nope," he said proudly and not at all repentantly.
She glowered at him. "Then it needs cleaning worse than I thought. Move the desk, Malfoy."
He crossed his arms stubbornly, matching her posture as he shook his head. "No."
"Malfoy!"
"If you want to clean back there so badly," he countered, "you move it yourself."
Hermione gave him an exasperated look but didn't say anything. However, his smug smirk apparently gave her the gumption she needed. Hermione placed her hands on the sides of the desk and pulled as hard as she could, kicking a few pieces of balled-up parchment out of her way as she tugged furiously. When that didn't work, she moved to the right side of the desk and began pushing, the heavy desk not budging an inch. Draco had been smirking the whole time she struggled, but when she threw her shoulder against the desk and tried to push her feet off the wall in an attempt to move the desk even a fraction of an inch, he laughed out loud.
Hermione didn't respond, but she gave him a look that could halt a Centaur in its tracks. Draco stopped laughing but covered his mouth with his hand in case the urge arose again.
Hermione stopped her shoving for a moment and stood back, giving an impatient huff and putting her hands on her hips. She blew a strand of renegade hair back before suddenly brightening and giving Draco a triumphant look. Again, she said nothing, but Draco watched her with a more wary eye than before. Merlin knew she would probably use him as a lever if she had a mind to.
Instead, Hermione closed her eyes and stretched out her right hand toward the desk, her feet planted apart and her other hand clenched in a fist at her side. With her eyes shut and her attention diverted, Draco took a moment to study her face, something he had been wanting to do for a while now. A look of sheer determination and stubbornness twisted her mouth and made her eyes crinkle at the corners. The smattering of freckles that had once coated her nose and cheeks had all but faded, Draco suddenly noticed, and a long white scar stretched across the top of her forehead. Her face was lined from years of stress and worry, and even though it had only been seven years since she had been forced into hiding, Draco couldn't help but notice how much older she looked. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, his own age, but she looked like she could be at least ten years older. Hermione Granger wasn't as pretty as she used to be, he thought, but Draco had found that beauty meant less and less to him these days. After all, he had cracked all his own mirrors in anger at his horrifically scarred visage.
He pulled himself from his stare and concentrated on what in the world Hermione thought she was doing. If he were going to guess, he would say she was probably trying to use her wandless magic to move the desk. An absurd thought, really, since she had only begun learning –
But she was Hermione Granger. Therefore, the desk moved.
It was a slow process, and one that Hermione kept her eyes tightly squeezed shut for, but inch by grudging inch, the desk heaved its time-stuck legs and slid across the floor like a creaking four-legged swan.
Draco couldn't help himself. It was probably a cruel thing to do, but Draco Malfoy had spent years of his life alone and miserably lonely. Annoying Hermione with ridiculously childish thing to do, but it brought him some of the first genuine amusement he had had in years.
Swallowing a smirk, Draco stretched out his own hand and concentrated on the desk, applying just enough force with his mind to halt the progress Hermione had made on the stationary desk. He allowed himself a quick glance at her, and he nearly laughed out loud. Her face was scrunched up even tighter, her free hand's knuckles turning white from her struggle. Draco suddenly had to pay attention to what he was doing. She was a lot stronger than he thought she was.
They stood like that for nearly a minute, Hermione concentrating all her might on moving the desk and becoming more and more determined and frustrated the longer it wouldn't move, while Draco focused on pushing against Hermione's strength and anchoring the desk where it was. Finally, Hermione let out an irritated sigh and dropped her hand, opening her eyes to see Draco doing the same.
"Wh– you – Malfoy!" she spluttered, realizing why she hadn't been able to move the desk.
Draco laughed, and when he did, he found that he couldn't stop. He leaned on a nearby chair for support, collapsing into it as he roared in laughter. Hermione simply stared at him in disbelief and utter disgust, but after an extended period of laughter from her comrade, she finally joined in and began smiling at the joke.
"You think that's funny, do you, Malfoy?" she asked challengingly.
The resolute look on Hermione's face made Draco laugh all the harder. It had been so long since he had simply laughed, and he felt like his face might crack from not being used in such a way for so long.
However, Hermione didn't give him time to ponder his newfound amusement, for no sooner had Draco erupted in another set of snickers did she pounce on him. She was a surprisingly good tickler, immediately going for his ribs before moving to his elbows. He yelped when she leapt on him and promptly fell out of his chair onto the hardened stone floor, taking Hermione with him. Taking advantage of the situation, Hermione just kept on tickling him, and Draco found himself laughing involuntarily.
She stopped for a split second to catch her breath, but it was all Draco needed to gain the upper hand again. Her grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and set to work tickling her sides, making her burst into half-screams half-crows of laughter. She fought him valiantly, begging him to stop, but he was relentless. Her piercing laughter echoed through the stone halls of the basement.
Then something snapped. There was no noticeable difference in their actions, but both Draco and Hermione stopped their playful struggle as if realizing for the first time how close they were. He had her pinned on the floor, one hand holding both her arms above her head. She stopped breathing all at once, and her face turned as white as a sheet.
Draco slowly released her wrists and offered his hand to pull her up, but she didn't take it, instead pushing herself into a sitting position in front of him. Neither said a word – neither knew what to say – but their gazes said all that needed to be said.
Draco cautiously reached out a hand to touch one of the wild curls that had sprung free from Hermione's ponytail, and she didn't stop him, following his hand with her eyes before returning to his stare. She leaned in a bit closer to him – almost imperceptibly, but not quite so. Draco found himself leaning in a bit as well, so close that he could count the fine eyelashes that framed her clear brown eyes. Hermione let her gaze wander down his face to his lips before flitting back up to his eyes. He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer.
"Oi, Malfoy! You've got company!"
It was Blaise's voice, coming from the upstairs bedroom.
"Leave it to Zabini and Nott to have perfect timing," Draco grumbled, pushing himself up and hauling Hermione up with him. "Where's my vial?"
"Malfoy! Where are you, mate?" Theodore's voice was even closer, probably already in the tunnel.
"Here," Draco said, shoving a cleaning rag into Hermione's hands. "Clean something."
Hermione gave him a scornful look. "What?"
"Just clean," he ordered, already searching for something to look busy with. Of all days for Blaise and Theodore to decide to make a sudden appearance, of course it would be the day Draco was having a tickle fight with Hermione Granger. Not to mention whatever that was that had happened after.
Draco and Hermione managed to look relatively inconspicuous by the time Blaise and Theodore appeared in the doorway of the basement. Draco was pouring a violet liquid into a bottle he wasn't sure was made to hold violet liquid, and Hermione had her back to the door, furiously scrubbing at a black fungus on the wall.
"There you are!" Theodore exclaimed. "I don't know why we don't just come down here first thing when we can't find you."
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Draco growled at his friend. "Or waiting politely in the entry hall before barging in?"
"Sure," Theodore said cheerfully. "But what's the fun of that?"
Blaise nudged Draco with his elbow. "Besides, if we waited for you to happen upon us in the entry hall, I have no doubt we'd be up there all day. Maybe all night, too."
"Do you and Granger live down here, Malfoy?" Theodore queried, casting a doubtful eye around the room.
"Does it look like we live down here, Nott?" Draco asked acidly.
Blaise shrugged. "You're down here every time we're here."
"Well, it's none of your business. Speaking of which, I do know something that is your business."
Blaise raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Theodore said, "Yes?"
Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the laboratory table, facing Blaise and Theodore with a stony expression. "About my floorplan."
"Your what?"
"My floorplan," Draco said tightly. "The map of my house. Where is it?"
Blaise whistled in what must have supposed to have been an innocent gesture, but Theodore's mischievous grin canceled out any sympathy Blaise might have been looking for. "You calling us thieves, Malfoy? What makes you think we've got it?"
"Never mind," Draco snapped. "Just hand it over."
Theodore shrugged. "'Fraid I can't do that, mate. I don't have it."
"You don't have it with you, or you don't have it at all?"
"What's the difference?"
"There's a great deal of difference!" Draco exploded. "Give me my floorplan, Nott!"
Theodore cocked his head to the side and poked Blaise's shoulder. "Look at his face, Blaise. I'd say that map must be pretty important to old Draco here. What is it, yours and Granger's love journal?"
Draco scowled at that, and Blaise looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who had stopped her pretense of cleaning and was glaring at the two guests. "Hello to you, too, Granger," Blaise said softly. "Nice to see you in your natural habitat."
"And you in yours," she said dryly. "Caught in the midst of a lie and a theft."
Blaise glared at her, and Theodore laughed. "She's still got her Gryffindor spirit," he remarked with a wink. Hermione rolled her eyes and came to stand closer to the three Slytherins.
"Cut the small talk, you two," Draco said. "I know you've got my floorplan, and I want it back."
Theodore shrugged, but Blaise had the decency to look chastised. "Look, Draco, we didn't realize it meant so much, or we wouldn't have taken it."
"Oh, so you just go around stealing random objects from other people's houses?"
"Obviously not," Theodore stated. "But you're our friend."
Draco looked like he was about to give Theodore the fiercest tongue-lashing in the history of Malfoy tongue-lashings, but he bit the inside of his cheek and looked away for a second, regaining his composure. "Just bring me my floorplan."
Blaise started to say something defensive, but Theodore just shrugged again and said, "Sure, mate. I'll bring it next time we come."
"And that will be when?"
"Tomorrow, if you can wait that long," Theodore said impishly. Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling but simply nodded.
There was a short silence, during which Draco glared at Theodore, then Blaise, then the opposite wall. Blaise stuck his hands in his pockets and stole a glance around the room, and Theodore eyed Hermione before his gaze fell on Draco. Or rather, Draco's neck.
"Hey, hey, now," he said, his eyes widening. Blaise turned to see what the fuss was about, and Draco self-consciously rubbed his neck, wondering what was going on. As soon as he touched his neck, he felt it – four long scratches, not bleeding but no doubt inflamed from Hermione's attempts to get away from their tickle fight. Perfect, he thought. Just perfect.
Blaise had caught on to Theodore's meaning by this point, and both of them smirked at Draco. "I guess she likes it rough then, eh, Malfoy?" Blaise asked. "Or does she just get it that way whether she likes it or not?"
Draco wasn't sure what was worse: Blaise and Theodore getting the wrong idea about his and Granger's relationship, or them finding out that they had had a tickle fight, of all things. Honestly, both were humiliating at this point, but he knew Hermione would probably kill him if he implied the former.
"Mind your own business, Zabini," he said irritably, pulling his collar higher as if covering the light scratches would make them invisible. Blaise and Theodore just smirked even more, and Draco heard Hermione give an impatient sigh behind him. "And the scratches happened to be an accident," he added for good measure.
Theodore burst out laughing at that, and Blaise just shook his head in amusement. "Yeah, that's believable."
Draco gave them both a half-hearted shove, trying to keep his face from turning any redder than it already was. "So was there a reason you two came by, or did you just come to heckle me?"
"I'm just here to see Granger," Theodore quipped, but Blaise elbowed him.
"We've got something we need to talk about," Blaise said more seriously. "Something's going on in the Ministry, and we think you might have some answers."
"Me?" Draco said incredulously. "I haven't been out of this house in six years. What makes you think I'd know anything about it?"
"We have our reasons," Blaise replied. "But it's probably best if she's not here for this."
He had gestured at Hermione, and Draco set his mouth in a firm line. "You're nervous around Granger, aren't you, Blaise? It's not like she can spill your secrets any more than I can."
"Then you can fill her in later, if you want," Blaise said. "But she's just a slave and a muggleborn at that, and this doesn't concern her yet."
"Yet?" Hermione asked.
"That's right. Draco?"
Draco hesitated, but Hermione made the decision for him. "I'll go. Three Slytherins at once is almost too much to bear, especially when they're as," she spared a glance at Draco, "insufferable as you three."
Blaise and Theodore didn't miss the almost-unnoticeable smile Draco directed at the floor when Hermione spoke, nor did they miss the way Hermione's hand brushed Draco's as she passed, making an exit from the basement. Wisely, both men refrained from making comment, but Theodore raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"It's great to have a slave completely submitted, isn't it, Malfoy?" Theodore asked. "Or would you know?"
"Shut it," Draco snapped. "What's this about the Ministry?"
Theodore straightened. "Something's up, Draco. The air's different. There's rumors of a mole in the Ministry, and it's got everyone stirred up."
"Thicknesse is getting nervous," Blaise chimed in. "I was speaking with your mum the other day, and she says Thicknesse has put everyone in the Ministry under severe scrutiny. They can't leave their homes, send messages, or speak to anyone else without someone knowing. I wouldn't be surprised if Thicknesse cracks under the pressure and starts a bloodbath till he figures it out."
"Is Mum involved in any of this?" Draco demanded. "Because if she is, you two better make sure she's safe."
"Don't worry about her," Blaise assured him. "She's not a Ministry employee, so I doubt she's under any close surveillance. As the widow of Lucius Malfoy and the mother of you, she's probably watched a little more closely than some others, but I'd say she's safe for the time being."
Draco appeared to be relieved. "That's good news."
Theodore nodded seriously. "But that's not all, Draco. If there is a mole, their life is in serious danger. Whoever it is is probably trying to blend in as best they can, but my guess is that they'll make a break for it before Thicknesse can catch them."
"So?" Draco said casually. "In case you forgot, I'm stuck in here for the rest of my life. The mole is just going to have to do without me."
"We know that, mate," Blaise said. "But you know who it is, don't you?"
There was a moment of silence, and Draco eyed Blaise and Theodore steadily. So much was at stake.
"I know who it was," Draco finally said, sounding weary. "But that was six years ago. A lot could have happened since then, and it's not like I get daily updates from the underground movement."
"Is the underground movement connected to the Order?" Theodore asked suddenly.
Draco looked startled. "What makes you think the Order still exists?"
"Granger had to come from somewhere."
Busted. Draco fought the urge to wince. Granger was the link to every question Blaise and Theodore had, and Draco knew he had to be careful not to involve her. "How do you know she wasn't part of the underground?" he countered.
"We didn't," Blaise said, "until your face just gave it away five seconds ago."
Draco didn't fight the grimace this time. Some master of deception he had turned out to be. "Look, I can't tell you blokes anything, all right? It's just too dangerous. It's not that I don't trust you; it's just that so much is at stake, and if you were to be put under Veritaserum or Legilimency, you'd have no choice but to give up answers. Please understand. I just can't risk it."
Blaise and Theodore didn't look offended in the slightest. "Draco, I don't think you understand what we're saying," Blaise said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "We're ready to help. Theodore and I have been talking a lot for the past few months, and things are getting ready to change. We're going to have to pick a side eventually, and we've made our decision."
"We're gonna help you and the underground and the Order and Granger and whatever else there is," Theodore added triumphantly.
Draco couldn't believe his ears. After all this time, could he finally trust his deadly secrets to his best friends? He had been alone for so long, and now he suddenly had Granger as a confidante and his two best friends as allies. With two leading workers inside Voldemort's system on their side, the Order and the underground could collaborate and possibly win, provided they had the element of surprise.
"Are you serious?" Draco finally managed. "You're really completely against Voldemort now?"
"We have been for a long time, mate," Blaise said sincerely. "We're just finally ready to do something about it."
Draco could have cried right then and there with relief. But a Malfoy doesn't cry in front of anyone else, so he settled for pulling them both into an embrace and hoping they didn't notice the wet spots on their shoulders when he pulled away.
"Don't forget that floorplan," Draco repeated as he stood in the entry hall with Blaise and Theodore. "On my side or not, I want it back."
Theodore waved him off. "Don't get your head in a twist, Malfoy. The precious pearl will be here tomorrow as planned."
"You just see that you don't forget it," Draco added, trying to look threatening.
Blaise laughed. "Don't you worry about that floorplan. Just make sure Granger doesn't claw you again."
Draco's face turned red as both his friends started laughing again, and he self-consciously tugged at his collar again. "I told you, it was an accident."
"Oh, we believe you," Theodore said, nodding his head in a mockingly sympathetic fashion. "We believe you."
"Yeah, yeah," Draco said. "Just go on."
Blaise and Theodore started for the door, still snickering to themselves. As they opened the door and stepped through the temporarily-opened vines, Theodore turned back and called, "As always, it was wonderful to see you, Granger!"
Hermione's voice echoed through the living room to the entry hall. "The pleasure was all yours, Nott!"
Draco shook his head as the vines closed behind his friends, just barely catching Theodore's muffled, "I love that girl." For a moment, Draco stared at the vines obstructing any view or passage through the open door. No matter how many times someone entered or exited the house, Draco still felt a slight inkling of jealousy. They were free to go in and out as they pleased, while he was a prisoner. Six years later, it hadn't gotten much easier.
Draco shook his head to clear away any envy or self-pity he might have. A much more important matter was at hand: Blaise and Theodore were finally committed. He had suspected that they would make a choice soon, but to spring it on him so suddenly and definitively was almost too much. A small victory had already been won.
Hermione interrupted his internal rejoicing by walking into the entry hall. She was holding a spellbook, which she had apparently been reading in the living room. "I thought they'd never leave," she said. "What in Merlin's name did you talk about for so long?"
Draco, still facing the closed door, bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting out in triumph. He turned to face her, a smile trying to break across his lips. Hermione cocked her head to the side at the look on his face, obviously puzzled but amused. "What's got you so happy?" she asked curiously, a smile crossing her face as well.
Draco turned his gaze to the floor, trying to contain his excitement. "We've made a breakthrough," he practically laughed. "Blaise and Theodore are on our side!"
His joyful laughter was countered by her look of continued puzzlement. "On our side? What does that mean?"
Draco took a step toward her, getting more excited the longer he thought about it. "For years now, Blaise and Theodore have been torn between their allegiance to the Ministry and their desire to do what's right. They've never turned in me or anyone I've worked with, but they've never actually opposed the Ministry either. They finally made their decision, though." He gestured wildly, trying to convey the importance of the moment to Hermione. "Don't you understand? They can help us! We don't have to hide everything from them anymore. I can finally trust them again. They can help Dennis and the Order and set things right again!"
Hermione finally seemed to grasp what Draco was saying, as her expression turned to one of excitement as well. "Draco, that's wonderful!"
He took another step and took both of her hands in his, and she didn't pull away. "Hermione, I think you were a big part of it. If you hadn't come here and given them the idea that there was still hope, they wouldn't have made the decision. I know it's terrible that you have to live here and be a slave and all that, but…"
"The greater good," she finished for him. "I can bear a little suffering if it means victory for the Order."
"They can help us," Draco said again, looking into her eyes earnestly. "They're coming by tomorrow with the floorplan, and then we can start working out a plan to get in contact with the Order."
"Oh, Draco, this is so wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, letting go of his hands and throwing her arms around his neck. Forgetting any awkwardness, Draco put his arms around her waist, lifted her off the floor, and spun them in a circle, both laughing like children at their newfound victory. After a moment, he set her down, and Hermione pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders and giving him a serious look.
"I owe this to you, you know," Hermione stated. "The Order has been trying to make progress like this for years, but only now that you've been helping has it started coming together."
Draco gave her a gentle smile. "I guess that's just proof that I should have joined up with the Order years ago, huh?"
Hermione smiled in return, and they found themselves back in the moment they had been close to in the basement before being interrupted. Draco tilted his head to the side and started to pull her in closer. Hermione stood up a little taller and let her gaze fall to his lips. They were so close…
It must have been a night for visitors, for no sooner had Draco's nose begun to brush against Hermione's cheek when the door was flung open, revealing a startled Narcissa Malfoy. She gave them both a suspicious look, even though they had all but shoved each other away in shock. Hermione looked at the floor, distractedly fiddling with her shirt hem and her hair.
"Hi, Mum," Draco said casually. "We weren't expecting you."
"Obviously," Narcissa remarked. "I didn't realize you two had gotten so… friendly."
Draco spoke quickly. "We haven't. It wasn't what it looked like."
Narcissa raised a disbelieving eyebrow but said no more, instead gesturing to the bag she held in her right hand. "I know it's late, Draco, but I wanted to bring some food by, and Mrs. Nordley's visit ran a bit long."
"Thank Merlin," Draco quipped. "We were running low on canned mush."
Narcissa pursed her lips at him. "Canned food keeps best. Besides, I don't know how to cook, and I know you don't. However, in light of the recent development –" she inclined her head at Hermione – "I did bring something she can cook. Please take this into the kitchen, Amelia Finberry."
Hermione gritted her teeth but did as she was told, not wanting to risk a scene.
"You don't have to say the whole thing every time, Mum," Hermione heard Draco say as she entered the kitchen.
"I'm winning, you know," Blaise said. He and Theodore were standing out in front of the path leading up to Draco's house, having said hello to Narcissa on her way in.
Theodore feigned ignorance. "Winning what?"
"You know what. The bet. I said Granger would be admitting her feelings for Draco by Christmas, and you said she wouldn't. I'm winning."
"Are not," Theodore retorted. "There's no indication she's in love with Draco."
"No indication?" Blaise echoed incredulously. "I'd say there's every indication."
"But if she hasn't by now, then there's almost no chance she'll do it in time."
"It's still three weeks to Christmas. A lot can happen in three weeks."
"A lot can happen in three months, too, but it doesn't seem to have happened."
Blaise shook his head, looking off into the distance thoughtfully. "No, I predict that Granger will admit her feelings by Christmas, just like I said three months ago."
Theodore shrugged. "You never were much good at Divination, so I don't think my fifty Galleons and I have anything to worry about."
Blaise scoffed and changed the subject. "So what time do you want to get here tomorrow?"
"I get through at the Daily Prophet at five, so let's just meet here then."
"Fine," Blaise agreed. Then he seemed to have a sudden thought. "You do have the floorplan, don't you?"
"Of course I have the floorplan," Theodore said, sounding offended. "Do you really think I'm that irresponsible?"
Blaise gave him a baleful look. "This is coming from someone who threw dishes out the window rather than washing them."
"In my defense, I was sixteen years old."
"That's more against you than for you, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore."
"Nope," Theodore said cheerfully. "Where are you headed?"
Blaise sighed. "Home to bed, like any other sensible person after midnight. I suggest you do the same."
"I'm going to Grimmauld Place."
"Again?"
"Hey, it's my last night with the floorplan. I want to be responsible," he added with a smirk.
Blaise sighed again, louder and more exasperated this time. "You have the floorplan, don't you?"
Theodore grinned and pulled the object in question out of his pocket. "You know me too well."
Blaise just sighed for a third time and raised his eyes to the star-studded sky. "Merlin knows you better have it tomorrow, or Draco is going to kill you, and then me, and then you again."
"Have no fear," Theodore laughed, setting his finger just above the portkey on the map. "I've always come through. Why not now?"
"Because the stakes are higher," Blaise said, but Theodore didn't hear him. He was already gone.
Cho Chang shifted her position and sighed quietly. It was close to twelve thirty – half an hour after when Katie said she would be there. The seven Order members were strategically hidden throughout the ruins of Hogwarts, and Cho was already dreading what they would say if Katie didn't show up. Seamus in particular was disgruntled about their fruitless wait at the Rook house, and Cho knew that if this backfired too, Neville might not risk another stakeout.
Ten minutes later, Cho's fears were put to rest. In a swirl of color, a figure appeared in what used to be the courtyard of Hogwarts. Cho didn't dare rush out of her hiding place, but she tapped her fingers anxiously on the column she was standing behind.
"Hello?" the figure called out. "It's Katie. Are you here, Cho?"
Cho could have cried with relief, and all seven Order members came out of their hiding places at once, rushing up to meet their long-time contact.
"Katie!" George called back, and Katie Bell swirled around to wrap George in a hug. Her relief at being among Order members was apparent, and Cho couldn't help but laugh when Katie hugged her. Katie smiled and laughed quietly as each person gathered took a turn greeting her. Finally, Neville stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"Katie. After all this time, I can't believe we're finally seeing you," he said appreciatively.
Cho nodded her agreement. "It feels like a lifetime since I've talked face to face with you, Katie!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad to see you."
Katie gave Cho a small smile, but it held a distracted quality. She looked behind herself nervously, eyes darting around as if looking for a stalker. "It's wonderful to see all of you, too," she said, and her voice sounded hollow, weary, as if she were feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. Cho put a sympathetic hand on Katie's shoulder, which the latter didn't seem to notice. "Neville, I don't have much time, so I need to say this quickly and get out of here."
Neville gave her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"
Katie sighed and glanced around again. "They're onto me – Thicknesse and all of them. The Ministry's practically been on lockdown since they caught on. I've been watched like a hawk since Monday, and I just barely got that note to you this evening without being caught."
"Katie, why didn't you tell us?" Angelina asked. "We could've helped you!"
"There's nothing you can do," Katie ground out, staring at the ground. "I know I have never asked you all to meet me in person since all this has happened, but I really needed to talk to you in person... before I leave."
Everyone stood in stunned silence for a moment. "Leave?" Dean echoed quietly.
"Leave what? And to where?" Seamus asked.
Katie's lips quivered slightly, and her voice shook as she responded. "I'm leaving the Ministry while I still can. It's only a matter of days – maybe hours – before they figure out that it's me. When they see I've gone, they'll know for sure, but I'll be long gone by then." Katie was trembling now, close to tears. "I'm going to live as a muggle, and hopefully they won't be able to find me."
Neville stared at Katie incredulously for a moment. "But, Katie, you've kept up the act this long. Why not let this blow over and keep going? We'll be lost without someone on the inside."
Katie shook her head, seeming to gain her composure. "It's too late for that. I've already left now, and I can't go back. There's even the chance I'm being followed here, considering how closely I've been watched. I can't let someone else take the blame on the off-chance they don't realize it was me, and I can't risk being caught and giving away information about you all. And you'll be fine without me," she added. "I can only do so much without giving myself away. You'll probably have even more flexibilty, actually."
"But where will you go?" George asked. "If you're on the Ministry's radar, there's a pretty low chance that they won't locate you sooner or later."
"You've managed pretty well," Katie smiled, and George shrugged in reply.
"Katie," Neville said seriously, "we don't want to lose touch with you. You've helped us all these years; let us help you. Michael Corner is in charge of relocating people into spots where the Ministry can't find them. He can help you get to a safe place."
"No, Neville," she replied. "The fewer people that know where I am, the safer we all are. I know the Ministry's weaknesses as well as anyone. I can get to safety. Thanks, though."
"Will we ever see you again?" Cho asked, feeling a wave of sorrow wash over her at the thought of losing another friend.
"Of course you will," Katie said reassuringly, wiping at her damp eyes. "When this is all over, I'll come back, and we can catch up. I have so much to tell you, Cho," she smiled. Cho nodded, blinking back tears of her own.
"Now, down to business," Katie said, her entire demeanor changing to one of professionalism. Cho guessed that this was her 'Ministry Personality'. "I'm going to say this quickly and then get out, so listen carefully." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Neville. "I found Dennis. He was bought from Augustus Sparrow's slave shop by a member of the Goyle family. Felix Goyle is his name. His address and directions to his house, as well as a list of precautions to take, are on that paper. Be careful; his home is in the heart of Ministry territory, so I'd use Polyjuice if I were you."
"Got it," Neville said firmly.
"Good. Now, I've managed to unearth a few pieces of information while looking for Dennis." Katie's eyes grew bright, and she started talking faster in her excitement. "Neville, I can't tell you much in case anyone's listening, but you need to find Dennis. It's more important than we ever imagined. Finding him could be the turning point in this war."
"What do you mean by that?" Nigel asked.
Katie shook her head, looking flustered. "I'm afraid to say more. Just... the underground movement. You get them on your side, and you've got a fighting chance. More than a fighting chance. Dennis can tell you a lot more, and he'll understand when you tell him what I've said. But you need him and his people on your side."
Dean Thomas was beginning to look confused. "His people?"
"I told you, I can't explain now." Katie looked over her shoulder again, growing visibly more nervous by the minute. "They could be here any minute."
"They?" Seamus demanded.
"Like I said, I'm being watched closely. Any strange behavior is immediately reported to Thicknesse, so I wouldn't be surprised if he comes down here himself when they realize I'm gone." She fixed her eyes on Neville. "Listen, there's –"
"What about Hermione?" George interrupted. "Is there any sign of her?"
Katie bit her lip and gave George an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, guys, but I've been so busy trying to track Dennis down and keep the Ministry from noticing, I haven't gotten much of a chance to look for Hermione."
"Don't you even have any ideas?" George pleaded.
"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I've done what I can." There was a sudden rustle from a bush nearby, and Katie jumped closer to the group. "I've got to get out of here," she whispered hoarsely. "They're coming, and they can't find us here."
Nigel opened his mouth to ask a question, but Katie cut him off. "Remember: find Dennis and get him to help you. To stay safe, everyone Apparate somewhere other than your hideout, then there. It's safer that way, and much harder for them to track you that way."
"They can track –?"
"They can do all sorts of things," Katie muttered, pulling her hood around her face and giving them all a sorrowful glance. "I'm sorry I can't do more, but I've done my best. I'm sorry I'm running away."
"Don't apologize for anything," Neville ordered. "You've gone above and beyond the call of duty. You just stay safe. If you ever need anything, contact us."
"I will," Katie said, then nodded, giving Cho a small smile before saying a simple, "Goodbye," and Apparating off to somewhere beyond.
The seven Order members probably would have stood in their spots a while longer, simply pondering Katie's words, but another bush rustled loudly. They collectively started, and Neville said in a low voice, "Everyone Apparate somewhere else, then back home again. We need those wards up quick."
The other six members nodded sharply, and each vanished in a cloud of motion and magic. Cho lingered just a moment longer, looking at the spot where Katie had disappeared before deciding on her next location – the place everything seemed to happen. Grimmauld Place.
Theodore stretched his arms above his head, sighing loudly for what seemed like the hundredth time. It had been almost an hour since he had used Draco's floorplan to get to Grimmauld Place, and he was already feeling tired. He knew he could always come back any time just by Apparating, but this would be his last night with the floorplan in tow, and that was his only alibi if someone were to find him skulking around there.
Theodore was halfway convinced to just come back another night, portkey or no, when a sound jolted him from his thoughts. Wide awake, he peeked his head around the corner and squinted, trying to make out what the source of the rushing noise was.
A glance west told Theodore everything he needed to know. Someone in a dark blue cloak had just Apparated into the space not ten feet away from his hiding spot. How lucky can a guy get?
The figure wobbled for a moment as they recovered from their Apparition, then slumped to the ground, covering their face with their hands and, though muffled, crying softly.
That action was quite unexpected to Theodore, who froze halfway through coming out from behind his favorite column. He tried not to breathe, so as not to alert the crying figure to his presence. From the sounds of the sobs, he guessed that it was a she, but he didn't recognize the cloak or the straight black hair that had fallen away from her hood. He stored the information away to ponder another time, choosing instead to focus on the moment.
The figure finally gave one last sob and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, raising her head to look straight ahead. The movement started Theodore, and he ducked behind the column abruptly. The girl noticed, and Theodore made a mental note to practice being sneaky.
She rose quickly, sniffling and pulling out her wand defensively. Theodore tried to think quickly. Apparating was too dangerous; if she was able to stop him, he could splinch. Fighting was risky, too, because all he really wanted was answers. If this girl could give him some friendly information, he didn't want to antagonize her.
His overthinking cost him. No sooner had Theodore decided to step out and declare his intentions did the girl jump out from the other side of the column. Cho Chang! Theodore realized as he crashed to the ground, the latest subject of Cho's petrifying spell.
She gave him a scrutinizing glare, as if trying to remember who he was. Realization dawned across her face, and Theodore saw anger and resentment flash in her eyes. Of course she didn't know he was on her side. She still thought he was with the Ministry. For the first time in his life, Theodore suddenly wished that he wasn't a Slytherin.
Cho raised her wand, and from the hateful look she was giving him, it occurred to Theodore that he was probably about to die. If his mouth hadn't been frozen from her Petrificus Totalus, he would have explained that he wanted to help her and her people, but he couldn't.
Cho glared fiercely at Theodore for several more moments, and Theodore could only helplessly look back at her from his spot on the ground. He wasn't sure how to project innocence with just his eyeballs, but he did his best.
It must have worked. Cho lowered her wand and softened her glare just a bit, glancing at the ground around Theodore. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she stooped to pick something up off the ground. When she straightened and began turning the paper over in her hands, Theodore's brain instantly began racing.
The floorplan.
Cho gave Theodore a curious look but didn't say anything. Flipping the paper over again, she raised her eyebrows and shoved the paper in her pocket, raising her wand at Theodore again.
Cho was smart. She backed up as far as she could go and still see him in the darkness, then raised her wand and removed the body-bind curse. Theodore's joints felt stiff and his legs wobbly, but he managed to get to his feet and feebly shout, "Wait!"
But she was already gone, Apparated off to somewhere Theodore had no way of finding out. Not only did she have the floorplan, but Theodore doubted that Cho Chang or anyone else from the Order would be back to Grimmauld Place after she encountered him there.
Draco was going to kill him.
"So what do you usually do for Christmas?"
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. It seemed that Hermione couldn't get through a single conversation without bringing up some sort of painful topic. They were sitting at the kitchen table, well past midnight, enjoying some of the first appetizing food they had had since Hermione had been there.
He tried not to sound too sardonic. "I don't really do anything."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "Really?"
"Yeah. My family never celebrated it much other than a party for my parents and their friends. The first time I remember seeing a Christmas tree was at Hogwarts. Once I moved out on my own, there wasn't any real reason to celebrate any holidays. It got worse after the curse."
"Well, that ends this year," Hermione said boldly. "Christmas is one of the only celebrations we do in the Order, and it's my favorite time of year. I think you'll enjoy celebrating."
Draco rested his elbows on the table and propped his chin under his hands. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, Granger?" he asked. "In case you haven't noticed, we're still stuck in the house, and I don't exactly have an abundance of Christmas supplies laying around."
"Oh, that's all right," she smiled. "I can make do."
Draco shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "You do that. I'll stick to potions."
Hermione nodded absently and started picking up their plates and cups off the little table. "Malfoy?" she asked a moment later.
"Hmm."
"You are going to join the Order once we're free, aren't you?"
Draco groaned a little. "I thought we already had this conversation."
"Not this exact one," she replied, turning the water faucet on and rolling up her sleeves to start washing the dishes. Draco stood and rolled up his own sleeves to help her. "You said you'd do all you can to help us and that you'd get Dennis on our side, but you've never actually said if you're going to join the Order or not."
Draco sighed again and picked up a wash rag to wipe off a fork. "It's not that simple, Granger."
"What's not that simple?" she pressed. "Once the Order sees all you've done and they hear what I have to say about you, everything will be forgiven."
"Everything?" Draco repeated bitterly. "Even this?" He set down the fork and wash rag and twisted to face Hermione, turning the underside of his forearm up.
His Dark Mark. Hermione had all but forgotten about it, but she suspected that was an impossibility for Draco. The skin around the mark was scarred just like his face, and red veins stood out starkly from his pale skin, no doubt from being summoned and remaining bound to the house.
Hermione sighed, setting down the plate she had been drying. She gently took his hand in hers, trying to meet his gaze even though he refused to look at her.
"Draco," she said softly and without accusation. "Everyone in the Order has done terrible things for our cause. Neville killed an innocent man a few years ago because the man recognized him and Neville was on edge already. For months after that, he begged me to lead the Order because he said he wasn't fit to. Angelina was sent on a solo mission to get one of Pomfrey's grandchildren out of a slave market, but another slave was punished and killed after being blamed for the escape. That's haunted her ever since. I once burned down someone's house to keep them from looking at their records and figuring out who I was. If anyone in the Order refuses to forgive you, they're nothing but a hypocrite."
Draco scoffed a little, still looking at the floor. "Has anyone in the Order been in Voldemort's most-trusted group? Have any of them murdered innocent people just because of their blood status? Have they murdered their schoolmates? Their teachers? Are they haunted every day by eternal punishment for their mistakes?"
"Draco, please!" Hermione cried out. The pain in her voice made him stop what he was saying and bring his gaze to meet hers. A tear had begun to fall from the corner of one of her eyes. "Draco," she whispered, "your mistakes don't define you. You made the choice to turn your back on Voldemort. You risked your life for Dennis and the underground and the Order. If anything, this punishment is a symbol of your loyalty to the good, not a reminder of the dark side! Don't let your past stop you from your future!"
Draco shook his head, fighting back tears of his own. "I wish I could believe that."
"You can," she implored him. "You can."
They stood like that for a moment longer, Hermione pleading with her eyes and Draco looking for all the world like a hopeless prisoner. Hermione finally let go of his hand and returned to washing the next plate, discreetly wiping her eyes.
Draco tried to think of something else to say. "You know, even if the Order does win and they get you out, I still won't be able to join. I'll be stuck here. I mean, I can make potions for anyone who needs them, but I'm still bound to this house."
Hermione's voice sounded stronger now. "Draco, the minute Voldemort dies, you'll be free from your curse. At least, I assume that's how it works."
Draco sighed, contemplating the weight of his next sentence. "That may be so, but I'll never get the chance to find out."
"What do you mean?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Voldemort can't die unless I die."
Hermione felt a chill run through her bones. "What?"
Draco hesitated only a moment. "Because... I'm a Horcrux."
He said it casually, not even looking up from the knife he was polishing. Hermione felt her hands go numb, and she dropped her plate with a crash, sending pointed shards all over the kitchen floor. Her head felt like it was going to explode. She knew she must look foolish with her mouth hanging open, but she couldn't help it. Draco Malfoy was a Horcrux.
He frowned, setting down his knife and reaching out to grip her forearm. "Are you all right?"
She shook her head wildly, trying to form a cohesive thought in the midst of the ones swirling through her brain. She reached for the counter to steady herself. "You're... you're... how can that be? Malfoy, how can that be!?"
Draco shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, leaning one hand on the counter next to her. "Well, after Potter and Weasley and you destroyed his first seven Horcruxes, and then after Potter died, Voldemort knew he needed more. He created three more, which I managed to destroy before the curse. I don't know that he knows I'm the one who did it." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, when he cursed me to be trapped in this house for the rest of my life, he decided to make me his new Horcrux. As far as I know, I'm the only one. It seemed like a foolproof plan, really; no one is allowed in, I'm not allowed out, so the chances of my being harmed are practically none. As long as I'm imprisoned here, his life is safe. I'm technically immortal now, and so is he. That's the big secret I was waiting to tell you, Hermione. I just... I wasn't sure how to tell you."
Hermione appeared stunned out of her wits. It was several moments before she could find her voice. "So that's why you couldn't commit suicide."
"That's right. He's got some enchantment over me, because that was the first thing I tried to do when I woke up in here after the curse. The only way to kill a Horcux is with Basilisk venom, and that's not exactly in abundant supply."
"And that's why your mother rushed in here that day when I found you in the basement!" Hermione exclaimed. Everything was suddenly falling into place. "She heard that Voldemort had been wounded, and she knew you would have felt it!"
"Exactly," Draco said.
Hermione shook her head in wonderment. How had she not put it together? The clues had been right in front of her all along! However, her astonishment quickly gave way to dread once she really started thinking over Draco's words.
"Draco..." she said haltingly. "That means... that means you'll have to die if Voldemort is going to die."
"I already said that."
"But... if you can't commit suicide, someone will have to kill you."
"I know."
"And you can't leave the house..."
"...and you're the only one in here with me all the time," he finished. "You'll probably be the one to have to do it, Hermione."
Hermione's eyes widened at the thought, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to suppress the sob that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. "No, Draco... no, I couldn't! I could never kill you!"
"You could," he said calmly. "I've gotten used to the idea. You will, too."
"But... but I..."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You're strong enough to do it. I don't know exactly how we'll get it done, but we'll figure out something. I can probably get Blaise or Theodore to find some Basilisk venom, and we'll use that."
"Draco..." Hermione choked out. "Don't talk like this. I can't even stand the thought..."
She found that she couldn't finish. Feeling an overwhelming wave of emotion hit her, Hermione left Draco Malfoy standing at the kitchen sink and ranto her bedoom. Some time later, when her sobs had stopped and she was lying on her bed pondering the flood of information she had learned, she heard Draco enter his bedroom down the hall from hers. She wondered what he was thinking, if he was turning over the day's events in his mind. He probably wouldn't cry. He seemed too resigned to his fate to be upset about it.
Similarly, Hermione's crying had given way to a new emotion: resolve. "I'll find a way to save you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered into the darkness. "I'll find a way to save you if it's the last thing I do."
A/N: Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! I realize it's been a while since I updated, so I made this one extra-long and extra-juicy for you!
As always, your reviews are jewels in my treasure box of happiness, so bring 'em on! I love hearing your feedback and opinions, so tell me what you think of the story and where it's going! I love you all, and I'll see you soon with a new chapter!