AN: In case anyone's curious, I mixed a little Vampire Diaries mythology into the potion making this chapter. (Obviously I don't own that either.)

Blood and Wine

Part 2

The small kitchen is stifling but she refuses to complain. While her Blood Replenishing potion comes to a boil she steps away from the fire and strips off her coat. It's a bright, sunny day outside but she couldn't leave the coat behind. There's always the chance the safe house she's living out of will be found and she'll have only enough time to take what she's wearing. She won't risk freezing to death later in the year because she was a little sweaty.

Malfoy has already stripped off his outer robes, leaving him in a disturbingly Muggle shirt and slacks. His sleeves are rolled up and the Dark Mark leers at her whenever she catches sight of him.

A bit lighter in her thin t-shirt, she heads to the shelves for supplies. Typically at this stage she would add a few drops of her own blood but Malfoy's told her to add vampire blood instead.

"Add a bushel of chopped vervain with the beetle shells and it'll stop any damaging side-effects. The blood's more magically potent than pure human and can speed the healing process when used correctly. It can also turn you into a vampire if you're not careful with the measurements, so try to pay attention."

She carefully measures out twenty drops of vampire blood and begins stirring. The potion thickens slowly, darkening and becoming more and more viscous. Bored and knowing it will be several minutes before the gently bubbling liquid is done, Hermione lets her mind and gaze wander. Malfoy is bent over his potion, the same one he was working on when he first found her here. The question of what it is sits heavy on her tongue but she holds it back. She's determined not to ask for any more than she absolutely needs from him and she knows he'll only taunt her for not being able to identify something they encountered in school.

He pushes hair, thin and greasy with steam and sweat, out of his eyes while he blows gently on the surface of his potion. It's a trick she'd seen Snape use, watching how breath and steam mingle on the surface of the liquid to tell if it's done.

Malfoy steps out of the fireplace and leans against the cool brick wall. He looks up at her with eyes slightly glazed. His skin is flushed and his breathing heavy. Does the potion have a drugging effect? Could it slow reaction time in battle? Malfoy blinks and his eyes clear. His expression turns to an angry scowl and he slams the lid down on his cauldron before stalking around the room. He slams precious ingredients about and attacks the filthy cauldrons in the sink.

Hermione turns her attention back to her cauldron, not wanting to invite his ire but mentally cataloguing his reactions to the potion for future reference. Several minutes later, when the blood replenishing potion is finally thick enough, the water stops running behind her.

She puts out her fire and lifts her cauldron out of the heat. She goes to the cabinets to gather jars for the completed potion. When she turns back she sees Malfoy on a chair, hanging a string across the ceiling. While she watches he opens a drawer and pulls out several long, stiff strings and sticks all but one of them in his back pocket. The one he dips carefully into his potion. Several moments pass with Malfoy poised over the cauldron. Hermione wonders if he's waiting for the string to catch on fire or turn to gold. In the end he only lifts the string, now coated with a thick layer of the potion, from the liquid. It drips for several seconds before he dips it back in.

Hermione shakes herself and gets back to her own work, bottling the much-needed Blood Replenishing potion. As she works the air grows thick with the smell of sweat and blood and … wine? She looks to Malfoy, wondering what could cause his potion to smell this way. He's got a dozen strings going at once now, each mirroring the motions of the one he holds in his hand. Hanging from the string he hanged earlier are pale, grey-pink candles.

"Oh!" she gasps.

He barely glances in her direction. "Something wrong, Granger?"

"I just … I didn't realize you were making candles." She's already running through potions in her mind, trying to find one that smells like wine and is useful in such a state.

"My hobbies vary wildly," he says sardonically.

Hermione narrows her eyes but returns to her jars and bottles. Hours later she waves her wand at the neat rows she's made and what took her over a week of work vanishes in an instant, each bottle and jar going to safe houses all over Britain. She lifts her arms high over her head, stretching out her spine.

"Granger?" Malfoy asks, his voice deceptively calm and curious.

"Yes?" she asks, lifting the spoon from her empty cauldron.

"Are you a virgin?"

"What the hell-" She whirls, blood red liquid splattering in a wide arch as her spoon flies at him. He catches it but the potion hits him across the face and it looks like blood spurted up from a wound. Her voice fails her at the visual reminder of just what he is.

He doesn't seem nearly as disturbed. "I'll take that as a yes," he says. He wipes his hands and face with a towel and grabs a dark leather bag from beneath the counter. Whatever sits at the bottom of the bag it's heavy enough that Malfoy's knuckles are white and the leather looks strained. He crosses the room to her, bending beneath the rows of candles he's strung up during the afternoon.

She backs up a step and he rolls his eyes with a small huff like he can't believe she'd ever distrust him.

"They like twilight," he says and takes her arm.

Her only thought as they apparate is that she should have known better than to trust a snake like him. A moment later they're in a small clearing in a forest. Hermione rips her arm from his grasp and pulls out her wand.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" she asks when Death Eaters don't immediately surround them.

"Next is a basic fortifying potion," he says like he's giving her a lesson. "I've got a variation that'll give it the added bonus of a cure-all. It won't fix anything especially nasty but it'll heal any small cuts and bruises. This variation, however, requires an ingredient I cannot gather myself."

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest. "And you expect me to do it for you?"

His eyes narrow. "If you'll recall, these healing potions are for your people, so it would be nice if you actually helped."

She opens her mouth to retort but his eyes slide away from her and he runs a hand through his hair, a pained expression on his face.

"Fighting is only going to make it harder," he says quickly. "Just wander." He gestures vaguely towards the trees.

"How am I supposed to gather ingredients if I'm wandering?" she asks testily. She's not ready to give up the fight.

He smiles at her. "Your lovely virginal presence will bring them to you."

"Have you gone completely-" she cuts off. His eyes light up victoriously as she realizes what they're here for. "Unicorn. You want me to bring you a unicorn."

He nods and heaves the sack over his shoulder. It hits his back with an audible thump. "Very good. You just wander and I'll handle the rest. The unicorns'll find you soon enough."

"I'm not helping you kill one," she says firmly.

His eyes darken and she fights the urge to take a step back. She knows how potent unicorn blood is and she's not about to help him do something so heinous.

"We're here for the hair, not the blood, Granger," he says, his voice a low growl. "And if you ever accuse me of something so immoral again, our arrangement will end."

He stalks off into the trees and she's left staring after him in shock. He does know he's a Death Eater, doesn't he? He's on the side of a man who wants to conquer the world and subjugate the majority of its population based solely on their blood. Immoral is a basic part of the job description.

Something moves loudly in the underbrush. She's not sure if it's some forest creature or Malfoy, annoyed at her for dawdling, but she begins moving.

She hates not knowing why he's doing these things or if in the end she'll have betrayed everyone by trusting him. But maybe Malfoy's changed. He's helping her for reasons she can't fathom, he even saved her in battle and returned her wand to her. Maybe he wants this to end just as much as they do.

The trees start to thin and she slows her pace. She's been heading nearly due west and the light is blinding. For a few minutes she just stops, waiting for the sun to set further before moving forward once more. She only makes it a few steps though. The trees end completely and she scrambles back into the brush. There's nothing out there but rolling hills and more forest and a single house in the distance. She didn't see anyone but with the sun at the house's back there's every chance she simply couldn't.

She doesn't have time to catch her breath before something nudges her in the back. She whirls and finds herself face to face with a unicorn.

The silvery white creature startles and backs up a few paces. It tilts its head this way and that, examining her closely.

Back in school she thought the unicorns were beautiful, majestic creatures. They were everything good she ever imagined magic to be when she first discovered what she was. Now all she can see is the horn, over a foot long and sharper than a knife.

The unicorn approaches her again, putting its horn over her shoulder to nuzzle her gently with its snout. She reaches up and runs her hands along its mane. The hair is the softest thing she's touched in months and she thinks she could fall asleep standing up if she could just hold onto it. Suddenly the unicorn lifts its whole head over her shoulder and begins nudging her deeper into the forest. It uses the sides of its head so that she won't be injured but remains firm in its designs, refusing to let her back up or get away.

"What do you want?" she asks, stumbling forward in an effort to get ahead so that she can better hold her ground.

There's a flash of movement as she turns and the unicorn cries out once. It thrashes about, tugging ineffectually at the thin golden rope that holds it captive. Hermione follows the line and finds Malfoy braced against a tree, clutching the free end tight in his hands. There's blood along it and she lets out a gasp at the sight.

"It's fine," he says. "Will you calm this damn thing down?"

Hermione worries her lip, unsure what she can do against an incensed unicorn, but steps forward, hoping to find a solution on the fly. Its movements become less wild as she approaches and she sees it's trying to keep its horn as far from her as possible even while it twists and turns its neck in an effort to get free. She begins to pet its mane again and it stills entirely. She avoids looking it in the eye, knowing it feels she's betrayed it somehow. It lowers itself to the ground and she follows, making soothing sounds deep in her throat.

Something metal clangs at her feet and she turns to see a pair of golden scissors and the leather bag in the leaves. Malfoy still has the rope held tight and is keeping as far away as possible.

"I suppose I know why you can't do this," she says snidely. The scissors are heavier than she ever imagined and she has to use both hands to lift them. Malfoy pulls the rope and the unicorn is forced to tilt its head so that its mane falls away from its neck.

"Honestly, I don't even know why they hate me," he says, voice thick with effort. "The last time I tried this, one tried to run me through."

Hermione clips at the hair, letting it drop to the bag between her knees. "I doubt they like Death Eaters. Especially boys and non-virgins besides."

"They liked-" he cuts off, a strange hitch to his voice. "They put up with Bella well enough and I've never seen them actually attack anyone else."

"Maybe you're just special," she says. She drops the scissors and flexes her fingers. "Is this enough?"

He cranes his neck to see in the bag. "Should be. Let him go."

Malfoy steps forward, giving the rope the slack it needs for Hermione to pull it over the horn. The unicorn immediately scampers off, leaving the two alone. Malfoy gathers up the rope while Hermione searches the fallen leaves for hairs that might have fallen outside the bag.

"Let me see," shee says when Malfoy approaches her.

"It's fine," he says again but she grabs his hands, forcing him to drop the rope. There's a gash across his right palm. She reaches for her wand but he jerks his hand out of her loosened grasp.

"I can heal it," she says, glaring at his bent head.

"It'll keep until we get back and we need to be gone from here."

"Why?" She thinks of the house she saw and turns her head in that direction. It's grown steadily darker and she feels a chill of apprehension go through her. "Where are we, exactly?"

Malfoy is coiling the rope, careful to use only the back of his right hand. "This used to be Longbottom land. They'd farm unicorn hair from the woods. They used to have whole fields of herbs too but I hear after her son went mental -"

"Don't!" Hermione snaps. "He didn't go mental! He was tortured into insanity by your aunt, so don't you dare talk about it!"

Malfoy grins up at her. "I'll talk about what I like." There's no bite to his words, only pleasure.

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "I can't believe I ever thought you might-" A smack cuts her off and she looks down.

He has his injured hand pressed tight over his opposite forearm. Hermione goes white.

"He's summoning you," she breathes.

Malfoy gets back to work, twice as fast as before and not caring about his hand any longer.

"Can you tell if he's only calling you or…?"

He shakes his head. "No. But if I had to guess I'd say he's planning an attack. You should go. I assume you can apparate home on your own?"

She nods and steps away. "Malfoy…" She isn't sure what she wants to say, what she should say. If he were Harry or Ron she'd wish him luck but he's the enemy, luck for him is the last thing she wants. Finally she settles on, "Stay safe."

He straightens and gives her a smirk, the same one he so often threw her way in school. "Afraid you'll lose your teacher?"

Before she can decide if the answer is yes or no, he disapparates.

It's worse than any fight she's been in before. The Death Eaters are attacking Andromeda and Ted Tonks' home, which happens to be where the Order has been hiding Muggle-born and half-blood children. Order members are apparating out with armfuls of children, then back in to carry on the fight. No one is paying mind to the suggested daily apparation limit today.

Somewhere a child is screaming. Hermione spots one crying in a corner and rushes over, stunning an approaching Death Eater on her way. She hugs the child tight and her next breath is of chilly mountain air.

"Hermione?"

She looks up and meets Madam Pomfrey's worried gaze. She hands over the weeping child without a word and apparates back. A curse hits her shoulder and she stumbles.

"Stupefy!" McGonagall shouts. The Death Eater that got Hermione flies into the nearest wall. Hermione nods her thanks but McGonagall doesn't see. She's back to back with Andromeda in the remains of the family room. Through what used to be a wall Hermione sees a Death Eater climb to his feet, shaking off the rubble of the dining room. He raises his wand at the two women and goes down instantly, victim of a golf club to the back from Ted Tonks. The man is bleeding from his head and two fingers on his wand hand sit at wrong angles. Hermione doubts they'll ever find the wand.

"There are more in the basement," Andromeda calls. Hermione rushes for the stairs.

Neville, Tonks, and Harry are already there. Half a dozen children are huddled on the floor between their legs. Hermione throws a curse at the first Death Eater she sees and soon the four of them clear out the room.

"You can each take two," Tonks says, "I'll cover you 'til you're gone."

"No," Harry says firmly. "We go together."

"We don't have time to debate this," Hermione snaps.

"Crucio!"

The curse engulfs Hermione, hits her in ever-increasing waves that send her to her hands and knees. Through the pounding in her ears she doesn't hear Tonks hurl a hex at the Death Eater but knows she has because the pain lessens to a bearable amount.

Neville tries to reach for her while children remain firmly wrapped around his ankles but Hermione shakes him off. She rolls to a squat, facing the Death Eater on the stairs. He's laying on his back and looks like he's slipped on the steps. His head is thrown back and laughter echoes from his mask.

"Come-" Harry starts but another Death Eater appears in the doorway, mask shining bright against the dark.

"Go!" Hermione yells at her friends. The laughing Death Eater lifts his wand but never speaks. His arm falls and his head rolls to the side. The Death Eater above him keeps his wand trained on the prone form for several seconds before relaxing.

"What the hell?" Tonks breathes.

Pops sound around them and Death Eaters appear at the four corners of the room.

"Take the kids!" Neville yells as the fighting begins. Tonks grabs the first children she reaches and apparates out. She appears twice more before they're all gone and in that time only one Death Eater has fallen. The one who helped them has joined in, silently shooting hexes and curses that glance easily off hastily called shield charms or merely graze the skin. Hermione is left fighting him and another Death Eater while Neville and Harry take on the others behind her.

There's a pop behind Hermione's ear and she hears Harry's muffled cry. She throws up a shield and half turns to see a Death Eater holding her best friend in a headlock. Another pop and they're gone. Hermione stares at the empty space, unable to process what's just happened.

Neville roars, bringing Hermione back to her senses. She tries to fight but all she can see is Harry being tortured, being killed.

Suddenly Neville cries out and Hermione hears him fall to his knees. She flings a curse at her opponents and half turns. A flash of orange flies over Neville's head to hit her in the chest. She crumples to the floor. The world seems to speed up around her and everything is muffled like she was just in an explosion. Green light flies over her head twice. She waits for the flash that will end her life too but instead sees a flash of silver in a stream of black. Warm hands touch her face, move down to her neck, then begin pulling open her coat. Pain flares and her vision goes white. Neville is shouting something. The hands disappear and a moment later someone's taken hold of her wrist and she's being apparated away.

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