A/n- Thanks to those who have reviewed: Lildaani, Syranda, The Princess Wolf, Kitematsu, Dwindlingcandle, Natural-181, magic2007

Disclaimer: Don't own!!!

Summary: Oh?

The Other Side of Fate

"Would you like Tomato or Chicken?"

Draco leaned casually against the kitchen's open door frame , his arms crossed very loosely over his chest. He winced at the pain but held his composure.

"I am tired of soup."

Hermione looked over her shoulder from where she was bent over the sink. She threw him a reproachful look.

"It's good for you; helps you heal."

Flipping his hair out of his face- Draco was in desperate need of yet another trim- Malfoy tilted his chin up. "Only because it masks the taste of that god awful medicine." Hermione looked at him expectantly. "Tomato." He said finally, moving at a slightly awkward gait to the table. He pulled out the chair slowly.

It had been nearly a week…

"I don't know what to say." Ginny had murmured when Malfoy had finished his story, five days previous. When they had crowded into his tiny bedroom.

They had watched, enraptured by the way he explained the Dark Lord's brutality, Snape's betrayal- to which Lupin stormed out of the room cursing, and to his mother's death.

Draco had kept his gaze to the ceiling; the white and gray blotchy-ness overhead, so he wouldn't have to see their faces.

Ginny moved uncomfortably beside Tonks where they sat on the floor. "And Blaise?" She whispered. Draco looked at her for a quiet moment. Vaguely he recalled the conversation he had had with Zabini so many eons ago. Had he not described the Weasley girl as pretty?

"I don't know." He said finally. "The last I saw him was in the study…"

Mr. Weasley knelt down by Draco's bed. The sight of the man on his knees disturbed the Slytherin. Draco looked away.

"Is there anything more, my boy?" The man looked stern.

Was there?

The Tower, the Malfoy library, Goyle, the escape, the hex.

"No." Malfoy whispered. If there was, Draco didn't know it. Everything past Goyle's yells were a blur. He only remembered the pain, the moon, the shadows of the trees on the dead grass. "No." He said again.

There was a pervading silence that settled on the ring of people. Harry leaned back in his chair, his hands clenched into fists upon his knees. He and Ron exchanged glances. Malfoy watched them out of the corner of his eye. If Potter was distressed, he did not show it.

Hermione, at Draco's feet, had closed her eyes rather tightly.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry said in a small but determined voice. "I think we should leave Malfoy to his rest."

The women looked startled. "Oh, right Harry. Come on then, everyone, we'll have some tea while we discuss this… are the other's coming Kingsley?" The large man in the back of the room nodded. "All right then…" She ushered Ginny, Tonks, and the twins out.

Ron left without a word, without a backwards glance. Hermione looked on after him. Harry knelt down towards Malfoy.

"We are all glad you cam back all in one piece. You've got a fair amount of information for us as well. Try and get some rest."

Draco nodded, searching the other boy's face; his warm green eyes and pleasant smile. "Thanks Potter." The door to the room clicked shut softly.

Repositioning himself against the pillows, Draco regarded Hermione with severe interest. She was watching her hands, fiddling with the bedsheeting. He wanted to hold her, but then, it was so painful to move. Voice struggled up from his throat.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly sunset by now I'm sure." Was all she said.

"Hermione-" Draco began.

"I was so scared." The girl cut him off, her hands no longer moving but gripping the cloth. "I woke up and you were gone." Draco relaxed, his head falling back farther into the pillow. Hermione took a breath. "I saw you, being dragged out of the castle."

And Malfoy remembered. "You called out my name." She nodded. "I tried to…" He was going to say 'get away', but he had been to weak to claw himself from Snape and the other man's grasp. "I didn't want to leave you, I'm sorry."

She wouldn't look at him. "I'm scared, still, now." Draco laughed; a harsh noise. Hermione stared at him with wide, tearful eyes. "Don't-"

"I just…" Draco backpedaled. "I am too. We all are. Hell, Potter's probably scared…"

"I through you were dead."

"So did I; a couple of times actually."

A small smile, bittersweet, formed on Hermione's lips. "Did you think of me?"

Draco's pale eyes widened. "Don't I always?" He paused. "Will you open the window? I can't-" Fumbling for the words. "It's too dark."

Hermione stood up and took a few paces to the thick curtain. Reaching up, she pulled the hangings back fully. Liquid orange and red spilled into the room, broad beams of light hitting Draco's bed. He twisted his head away; eyes closed.

From the darkness behind his eyelids, Draco could hear the cracking of dust caked paint as the rippled glass window was thrown open. A rush of cold air filled the room instantly.

Draco blinked. The light warmed his skin. He looked white, dead, pale.

"Is that better?" Hermione came back to his side. Malfoy nodded. Hermione gave Draco another sip of water, then propped herself up on the mattress next to him. "You look better then when you first got here."

Draco grinned, his chin tilted upwards. "How was that?"

"In pain."

"Oh, well, hmm."

Hermione smiled softly, embarrassed. "I was screaming."

"Heard that too."

"Mrs. Weasley dropped a pitcher of iced-tea."

"Mmm."

"She dragged me away from you." Her voice was suddenly sad. Malfoy took her face in his hands, although it was painful to twist his arms so.

His whole body ached, yet it was his side- a wound still healing- that burned when he moved. "I'm here now. That's all that matters." He trailed two fingers up and down from Hermione's ear to her chin. She shivered. "Kiss me."

Hermione leaned into him and brushed her lips against his. Draco watched her soft eyes flutter closed, then open again. Her breath was warm against his chest. He watched her lips. Malfoy dipped down fractionally and caught her mouth with his again. She pressed against his chest; pressed awkwardly against his wound; Draco didn't care. He ignored the dull burn.

He could feel her heartbeat.

Threading his hand through her hair, he pulled her closer.

The arm around her middle moved forward. Malfoy's hand flitted across the sliver of skin between her muggle jeans and the pink sweater she was wearing. His hand went slowly upwards.

Hermione gasped against his mouth…

"Draco?"

Malfoy looked up from the Kitchen table.

Hermione was setting a steaming bowl of soup with a spoon resting in it in front of him. Looking back over his shoulder, Draco saw an uncorked bottle of … something… on the kitchen counter. Hermione shifted so his view was obstructed. Her laugh did nothing to rouse Malfoy appetite.

"Eat." She whispered into his hair, ruffling it a bit, burying her head into the right side of his neck.

Malfoy groaned, picking up the spoon.

"I will forever hate soup. I won't ever make it again."

"Since when have you ever made soup?" Hermione grinned, sitting across from him.

He glared at her, sticking the spoonful in his mouth. "Urk-" His eyes went wide.

"Swallow it!" Hermione commanded.

Malfoy's glare was as fiery and cutting as ever; yet Hermione ignored it, having gotten use to the Slytherin's mock hateful looks. Draco swallowed and quickly threw back a chaser of milk.

"What is that!?" He grimaced, tilting his head back.

"I'm not allowed to say."

Malfoy picked up another spoonful. He was never going to get use to the taste. Ever.

Moments ticked by.

"So…" Draco started innocently, the fourth spoonful up to his lips. It was Hermione's turn to eye him suspiciously.

It always started like this.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Malfoy asked innocently.

"Nothing." Would be her reply; would always be her reply.

Exasperated, Draco open his palms against the table. "It's been days; I feel fine! I want to…"

Malfoy stopped.

There was a warning light going off in the back of his mind…

A few days ago, it had been not a full twenty four hours after he had been bedridden that Draco had already felt restless.

He had tried, after nixing Mad Eye's walk cane that night, to hobble down the stairs to the door behind which the Order- now consisting of the Twins, the Weasel, Hermione, and Potter- were whispering quietly.

It was only Ginny who had discovered him there as she walked in from the front room.

"What are you doing?!" She hissed.

Draco jumped about three feet into the air. His side twisted as he whipped around, nearly destroying his balance where he teetered on the last stair step.

"Shut u- uh!" A low hiss, like an asp's whisper, escaped his lips. He bit down on his tongue hard. Ginny had a hand on her hip, looking all too much like Molly. Malfoy glared at her once his voice was returned to him. "Go away."

"I know what your up to."

"Do I care?" He snapped, turning his back to her.

"So touchy…"

Draco's face contorted, his lips giving way to a wicked sneer, an eyebrow shooting upwards. "You would be to."

The Mini-Weasel rocked back onto her heels. "Go upstairs and I won't tell them you were listening."

"I can't listen with your incessant jabbering!"

"Upstairs!"

His blood pressure spiking, Malfoy turned slowly on the girl, his eyes wide. "Don't you tell me what to do." He leaned forward, unable to take a step due to the position of Moody's walking stick. Ginny backed up a pace. "You're not my mother!" He hadn't realized he was shouting. His voice cracked painfully.

"Draco…" Ginny said delicately, her eyes soft and comforting.

"What's all this noise?" Lupin had opened the door to find a exhausted and horrified Malfoy leaning against the banister; a shocked Ginny standing perfectly still in the middle of the moldy hallway. The man sighed.

Draco grit his teeth.

"I'll handle this." A voice reverberated from within the room. Harry Potter pushed past the old Professor. "You guys keep on; I'll only be a second."

"Harry…" Lupin started warily, but Potter had smiled that winning smile of his, reassuring the man instantaneously.

Draco snarled.

The door clicked closed.

"Ginny." Harry waved her over. As the red head walked towards them, Malfoy thought he might be able to make a break for it- try and throw himself out a window- or at least run, er- hobble- back upstairs. "Will you go start Malfoy some soup?"

"Sure Harry." Ginny left them and disappeared into the kitchen. Potter gazed at Draco with look the blonde could hardly place.

Draco grimaced. "Don't say it." His heart hurt; pounded. "I'll go back upstairs."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "That's not what I was going to say. But it would help."

"Hah…"

"I wanted to tell you something."

This quipped Draco's interest. "Yea?" He cocked an eyebrow, handing Moody's cane over to the boy when he reached for it. "What?"

Potter placed the stick back into the umbrella stand and came over to sit on the stairs. Grimacing, Malfoy sat down as well.

"I know how you feel, for starters."

"Really, Potter? Because, I might be blind, but you are one of the ones sitting and planning your little raids and tricks and things in that nice room over there." He inclined his chin. "I was under the impression that it is I who is currently bedridden and not being allowed to participate."

Harry sighed. "My Godfather. He felt the same way…"

When Potter had finished, Draco didn't seem hungry for his soup any longer…

Hermione leaned on her elbow. "You 'want to' what, Draco?"

Malfoy swallowed the spoonful, not registering the taste of the filthy medicine. He quieted his nerves, tried to suppress the useless feeling he had within his soul.

Sirius felt useless… see where it got him?

"It's been five days… no, six."

It was nearly two in the morning on that Saturday- Malfoy had been yelling in his sleep and woke with a ravenous hunger, Hermione, sleeping next to him, agreed to make him a meal.

Thus, they now sat at the kitchen table.

Draco continued. "I feel better, the pain is nothing but a dull throb. I want to fight with you when the time comes. I am capable! I want to be included! I have ever reason to…"

"Your wand, Draco." Hermione laid a hand on his. Malfoy yanked it away. "You have no wand; please, be reasonable!"

Her words, although no intention was meant, cut him deeply. His wand. He beautiful Hawthorn wand. He loved the handle, the way it rested so firmly within his palm. It smelled like sweet peeling varnish...

Now it lay by his bedside, nearly split in two.

Malfoy pushed back his chair. "I'm not hungry. I think I'll go back upstairs. I'm sorry; I just-"

Smiling knowling, Hermione came around the table and enveloped him within a large hug. Draco closed his eyes. She kissed him.

"I know it's hard. Just be patient. Until you're one hundred percent and we have secured a new wand for you, then we'll fill you in. Lupin and Arthur don't want you to overexert yourself." Malfoy nodded. Hermione gave him another squeeze. "I'm going to wash this." She meant the soup stuffs. "I think Harry, Ginny, and Ron are in the sitting room cleaning."

Malfoy looked puzzled. "This early in the morning?"

Hermione shrugged. "Ginny woke up when you did." Draco knew this implied that his sleep-screaming had unnerved her. He scowled, embarrassed with himself. "And Ron and Harry just got back from tailing some Ministry Official. They didn't want to fall asleep, so they're cleaning."

"Okay." He said weakly.

"You should try and…"

"No."

The nights, filled with constant dreams, were starting to scare Draco. He didn't want to go back to bed…

"I'll be in the sitting room."

"Okay."

Instead of making a beeline for the room where the others cleaned, Draco walked aimlessly around the hallways, waiting for Hermione to finish. Passing a door that was ajar, he paused.

There seemed to be an immense tree- either that or its limbs- drawn onto the walls.

Malfoy touched the door and it swung in easily. He walked, almost without an ounce of a limp- into the white room.

Draco stared.

Branches; stitching.

It was a family tree…

The Black Family Tree.

The door behind Draco swung shut and clinked against its frame. Malfoy turned slowly on the spot in the middle of the carpet. He twisted his head, eyes flickering over the pictures and names on the intricate branches.

The green and brown and many colored hues were faded, yet they were still beautiful.

Slowly, he crept to the wall. Dust stung his eyes when he touched one of the thick branches.

Then Malfoy saw the burn marks…

Tonks… Sirius…

Draco bit his lip.

They had been burnt out of the pages of the Black Family history.

His family history

A sick feeling wound its way through Malfoy's stomach as he saw the others who were now faceless.

He touched the place where Tonks' mother's picture use to be. A large flaked piece of charred thread and plaster fell to the ground, staining the carpet black with soot.

He was touching it…. His eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth slightly open.

Moving right, Draco found a more recognizable name.

Bellatrix.

Attached to the familiar face was a thin branch extending in a large arch across space. Draco followed it with dread.

His mother.

Her picture was blurred, not burnt, as if she name and face were made of ink that had run. Malfoy touched the place where the 'N' was barely visible.

Why?

Did it know she was already dead? Must…

Draco pressed his cheek against his mother's ruined image and a swell of emotion choked his throat.

He didn't weep.

Kissing his mother's blotched and muddled face, Draco pressed a thin and pale hand over his father's image as if to erase it from the Family's wall; to undo him.

A thin rope like vine that had been twisted elegantly around his father and his mother's pictures was broken, the green stem hanging limply- its ends browned and dead looking. From the middle of the severed line was a third stem.

Malfoy, his palms running down the wall as he crouched, followed the trail to his own space on the tree.

The frame around his face was destroyed. Like the other disowned family members, only a charred mass remained of his golden head.

His name, however, shown brightly in a hue of dark forest green, mocking.

Draco Malfoy

A sob; choked, escaped his pale lips.

You are stronger then this family…

A rush of air filled his lungs. Looking up at his father's arrogant and smirking picture, Draco dug his fingers under the loose hole in the wallpaper where his own face use to be.

All of the frustration, all the hate, all the pain that he could no longer ignore, all the blood that could not be repented; it bubbled and ran like live wire through Malfoy's veins.

In a rush, his arms tensing, Draco pulled upwards with all his energy.

A great strip of the wall tore away from the rest, a long rut of rot and moldy wood exposed. The thin flap of cut away tree enveloped his father's name and picture.

Draco pulled sharply downward.

The long ribbon fluttered and fell to the floor; his father's name and picture still upon it.

The wall, now marred, looked exceedingly ugly- not at all wondrous like it once had.

Ignoring the hurt at his own defaced image, Malfoy pressed another cold kiss onto his mother's washed away face.

Quickly, as if he had become suddenly embarrassed, Malfoy exited the room, shutting the door with deliberate force behind him.

"Oiy, Malfoy?"

It was the Weasel. His head poked around the corner into the hallway.

"Uhn?"

"Where's Hermione?"

Malfoy shoved his hands into the pockets of his black pants. "Kitchen."

"Oh." Ron went silent for a moment. He looked down at his feet. "Well… why don't you come and help us then?"

Nodding absently, Draco followed the boy into the room where Harry was currently trying to make a fire- unsuccessful because of the dampness of the old wood- and where Ginny was pondering over a solid silver ashtray on a small table next to the left arm of the couch.

The couch itself sent up a small cloud of… Draco tried not to think about it as he sat down heavily upon the cushions. He tilted his head back.

"How do you feel?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, just spot on."

"Well, we're glad you're back to your annoying, arrogant self, Ferret."

"Ron!"

Harry chuckled.

"Are you four arguing?" Hermione entered into the room, a dish towel drying her hands. She came over and kissed Malfoy upside-down; his head leaning over the back of the couch.

"Ron's being insensitive."

Hermione snorted. Draco smirked, but his smile fell as he twitched his neck to the left sharply.

Everyone in the room stared at him.

"Ah-" He started, embarrassed as his hand flew to his neck and itched it. Harry came over and joined the other three who were standing around Malfoy as he twitched again.

"What's wrong?"

"Ugh!" Ginny covered her mouth.

"What!" Hermione said sharply.

"Draco, your neck!"

Malfoy, panicked, pulled back his hair. The other four gasped.

"Oh my god."

"What is that?!"

"Draco!"

Harry leaned in a looked at the small mark. "It's a snake..."

Draco felt as if he would be sick. "Merlin!" He swore sharply as his neck suddenly burned white hot.

"What did they do!?"

"It's-" And it was if Malfoy was just recalling. He looked sharply up at Hermione, both his hands clasping his neck. "They found my ring!" Hermione started to breath very rapidly. "They found it and knew I betray them!" He looked at Harry. "He did it!"

They all knew who 'he' was.

"He burned it into my skin!" And the memory resurfaced. He was yelling, writhing on the couch.

Everyone was stunned; the abruptness of this new development had caught them off guard.

"Harry." Hermione said suddenly, eyes still on Draco. "Why do muggle farmers brand their cattle?"

Harry stared at her. She looked slowly up at him; horror in her gaze.

"To-" Potter started, going very still. "To keep track of them."

Ron pulled Ginny away from the couch.

"Go get mom! Go get everyone! Hurry!"

Ginny bolted away.

Draco screamed; high pitched.

Ginny fell on third or fourth step of the staircase. Scrambling, she bolted forward.

"Hurry!"

As the Weasley girl rounded the landing and disappeared up the stairs, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione drew their wands, as Draco's cries reached a fevered pitch, the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place suddenly burst inward and spiraled onto the hardwood floor.

Popping sounds reverberated within the room as cloaked wizards Apperated all around them.

A/n- Wow, long!

The reason the Death Eaters were able to find Number 12 was because of Snape (he knew the location). But! Because he had betrayed the Order, they had put a ward on the building so he couldn't enter.

They used the brand as a mechanism of locating Draco, thus producing the house and making it plotable and Apparate-able and ...er... enter-able?

Anyway, yeah.

The next chapter is going to be just as long so it might be delayed a few days! THREE CHAPTERS LEFT!

Review!