I know some of you were upset by the Ron developments last chapter, but I felt it was necessary to show the messy end of their relationship because Hermione did have feelings for him that couldn't be ignored. Up until the end of this chapter I was loosely following canon events, and her feelings for Ron were a part of canon at the time (I know that they hadn't slept together in canon at this point either, but I also thought it was important that Hermione had lost her virginity to someone of her choosing before marrying Malfoy). In this iteration of events, she is very much conflicted by her lingering feelings for Ron and her duty to Malfoy, who she knows very much despises her at this point in time.

So much love for my beta, RESimon - thank you for all that you do.

CHAPTER NINE

There was a knock at the door then, and Hermione started before crossing over and cracking it open, wary of who could have been standing outside. She was surprised to see that it was none other than Harry, who stared back at her with wild green eyes as he craned his neck, trying to see into the room behind her. She let the door open further, relieved that it was only Harry.

"What happened?!" he asked, eyes roving around the room before they landed on her and he began blushing furiously, immediately whirling around so that his back was to her. "Sorry!"

She blinked, then looked down at where his eyes had landed before letting out a small gasp. Yet again, the tie on her dressing gown had come undone while she'd been distracted, and at that moment she decided that she would burn the blasted thing at her earliest convenience.

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked again. His back was still turned, and his voice was quieter than before. "I heard yelling — are you alone up here?"

She quickly summoned her wand and transfigured her robe to make it fit better. "You—you can turn around, now Harry," she said, flushing.

He turned slowly, peeking to make sure that she was fully covered before starting to scan the room once more.

"It's nothing!" she said hurriedly. "I just— got frustrated with a book, is all," she explained.

Harry furrowed his brow. "I swear a heard a second voice though, and it sounded like a man — also, why on earth do you have wards up around your door?"

"No reason," she rushed, cursing inwardly as she thought of the time he'd likely spent calling out to her and trying the knob that she hadn't heard while arguing with Malfoy. "I just prefer not to be disturbed when I'm doing research, is all."

Harry eyed her, and she knew that he was calculating whether her words were believable or not.

"Honestly," she said, walking over and squeezing his hand.

He nodded then, sighing. "I just saw Ron and he's...upset," he explained. "I thought I would come see you, and clear things up—" his eyes widened as he took in her appearance. "Is there...someone else?"

Yes. "No," she lied easily. There was still an uncomfortable stickiness between her thighs, and she shifted awkwardly at the reminder of her encounter with Malfoy only moments prior.

He gave her another uncertain look which she quelled with another fake smile.

"Actually, I should probably head in the shower now," she said, pointedly looking down at her attire.

Immediately, she had the effect she'd desired and Harry blushed deeply before nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," she nodded, giving him a small, tight smile before he turned and left.

As soon as the door closed behind Harry, she flipped open her trunk and downed a sleeping potion before slipping into bed. She was fast asleep before Malfoy re-emerged.

X

Hermione was sitting in the sitting room that held the Black family tapestry, continuously scanning all the names that were spread across the tree. Generations of aristocratic purebloods, a tree marred by her and Ted Tonks' names. She stared at the seemingly blank space beside Malfoy's name, picturing what her portrait would look like once it was free to be revealed. She wondered if Harry would cast her face off the tree, too disgusted to look at her after her betrayal.

A throat cleared then, and the man himself stood in the doorframe.

"Hullo, Harry," she gave him a soft smile as he entered.

"Huge, isn't it?" he said, gesturing at the Black family tree.

Hermione nodded, watching as Harry walked over and perused the tapestry. Her heart stuttered when his fingers ghosted over the place where her face was, but nothing happened and it remained thankfully hidden.

"Malfoy," Harry said suddenly, and Hermione's eyes whipped up to him.

"What about him?" she tried to keep her voice even despite the fact that her heart was thundering.

"He said some strange things the night...that night," Harry continued. "He kept saying things like 'How can you be sure?' and 'How can you keep your promise?', even as he had his wand pointed, ready to kill him. And...he talked about someone — a woman. Saying that he needed to do it because he had to protect her," Harry mused. He hadn't spoken of Dumbledore's death since his will had been read. Hermione wondered how often these thoughts had been haunting Harry, as he had spoken of what had transpired only when it was strictly necessary.

Hermione's mind reeled as she ran through all the possibilities of what Malfoy's words had meant. A woman? It couldn't have been her — certainly not. His mother, then. Had he needed to kill Dumbledore to protect his mother? None of it made sense to her, and she found herself staring hard at Mrs. Malfoy's place on the tapestry, missing Harry's next words.

"Hermione?" Harry called, and she blinked at him.

"What?"

"The locket," he repeated. "How do you suppose we'll figure out who RAB is?"

Hermione didn't answer for a long moment, eyes still trained on Mrs. Malfoy's portrait. She looked beautiful and serene, entirely unlike the woman who had been burning with rage in her room only a few weeks prior. She hadn't seen the woman since, although Kingsley occasionally delivered letters from her which she left on the desk in their room for Malfoy to find. Her eyes roved the tapestry once again, and she froze a moment later as they landed upon a particular portrait.

"RAB," she murmured, crossing over to stand beside Harry. "Regulus A Black," she said, thinking back on the name she'd seen scrawled in the corner of a few of the books on the shelf in her room.

Harry looked at her, eyebrows raised. "You don't think—?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "It could be a coincidence, but…"

"We'll need to find out. But how? Who would know enough about the Black family that—"

"Kreacher," she interjected, shivering at the thought of the frigid old elf. Since she'd returned for the summer, she'd oft caught him giving her long, intense looks. She feared that he knew about her marriage to Malfoy, but he had yet to say anything. Yes, if there was anyone who had the information they sought, it would be him. She suspected that he knew much, much more than he let on.

"I'll summon him now," Harry said. "Maybe we can find it by tomorrow—" he was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's voice calling out for them, likely in search of extra hands to aid with the last of the preparations before the wedding. It would be held in only a few short days, and the mere thought of it filled Hermione's heart with dread.

She followed Harry to the kitchen and was surprised to see McGonagall sitting at the table alongside Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said as they approached. "Come along, I need you to help rearrange the…" her voice floated away as she lead Harry out of the room, presumably toward the nearest floo.

"I would like to speak with you," McGonagall said. Hermione watched as she cast a few spells at the entry to the kitchen, shrouding them in privacy.

"We've prepared a safe house for you and Mr. Malfoy," she said. "I am the Secret Keeper, and only myself, Kingsley and Alastor are aware of its exact location."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the mention of Moody's name.

"He has sworn himself to secrecy just as we have," McGonagall explained. "We thought it necessary that he be made aware, as both he and Kingsley will be coordinating the Order and its missions."

Hermione nodded. "When must we leave?"

McGonagall gave her a solemn look. "As soon as possible."

Hermione gaped at her. "Just— just like that?" her eyes swung to the doorway where Harry had disappeared earlier, and she frantically tried to recall the last words he'd spoken to her, the last time he'd directed a smile at her —

It could have been the final friendly gesture she'd received from him, and the memory was already slipping away.

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she looked down at the table. "Just— give me a few days, please," she whispered. "I don't want to leave Harry right before his birthday, and the wedding…"

McGonagall sighed.

"I will go right after the wedding, I promise," Hermione said, looking up at the woman.

She could see the conflict in McGonagall's eyes and continued to give her the most pleading look she could muster. She was desperate for these final moments with her friends before she betrayed them by leaving, living out the rest of her life — however long it would be — in isolation with a husband who loathed her.

McGonagall nodded then, sighing once more. "I know this has been a difficult situation, Mrs. Malfoy," she said. "I thank you — the Order thanks you — for handling it with such grace."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said. She wanted to smile, but she could not muster it. Instead, she reached over and have the woman's hand a squeeze before leaving, intent on filling her day with wedding preparations in lieu of fretting over troubling thoughts.

X

Bill and Fleur's wedding was beautiful. The Weasleys had outdone themselves in decorating the tent that they had erected in their yard, creating an enchanting scene within. Its beauty was all the more enhanced by the cheerful atmosphere that the wedding guests and Weasleys alike emitted. Her heart swelled with sadness as she recalled the tense, somber affair that her own wedding had been. While this bride and groom celebrated with all of their closest friends and family members, her own had been shrouded in secrecy to the point where even her closest friends who sat around the table with her at that moment had no idea that the large diamond and emerald ring, which felt especially heavy on her finger that night, even existed. Her own parents were ignorant of her nuptials, and the thought of them made her grip her arm painfully until the tears that threatened to fall abated. When she finally let go, there was a bright red welt left behind, marring her skin like a physical representation of her shame.

Tonight would be the last night for an indeterminate amount of time that she would see most of these faces that she had grown to love so dearly over the years. She realized that she had no idea if she would live out this war, or if anyone that was currently participating in the festivities under the tent would, either. Everyone had been doing their utmost to enjoy the remaining time they had left before the war that had been brewing burst forth and rendered them unable to put it to the back of their minds any longer. For now, she would force herself to put on the widest, falsest, smile in her repertoire, and file away her final memories of her loved ones so that she might cling to them in her darkest moments.

Currently, Malfoy was awaiting her at her parents' home. She had taken advantage of Grimmauld's emptiness to sneak him away just before the wedding ceremony began, assuring him that she would return for him by nightfall so that they could depart for their safe house once McGonagall arrived to escort them. For now, though, both women were in attendance at the wedding, and Hermione resolved herself to glean as much enjoyment from the night as she could.

Everyone at her table was chattering amongst themselves, and she was the only one kept to herself. Harry sat next to her, creating a buffer between her and Ron, who had yet to speak to her since the incident in her room just days prior.

She looked past Harry to Ron, who paused mid-sentence when he felt her eyes on him. When he looked back at her, his eyes were hard and cold, devoid of the love and adoration and she had seen in them before he left her room. She had broken his heart, and the knowledge of it broke her own in return. She tried to give him a small smile, and was met by him shoving his chair back angrily and storming off, disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

Harry gave her a small, sad smile, then stood himself, offering her a his hand. "A dance?" He asked.

She gave him a watery smile and nodded, letting him take her hand. On the dance floor, he twirled her and danced in circles around her until she couldn't help but giggle. The moment he saw her smile, he gave her a beatific smile in return, and she felt her heart crumbling some more as she committed the smile to memory.

"I love you, Harry," she said, pulling him into a sudden tight hug.

He froze for a moment, confused, before he hugged her back with a chuckle. "I love you too, Hermione," he laughed.

She held onto him for a few more seconds, relishing in the feel of his familiar warmth.

"Harry –" she stopped short as there was a sudden lull that fell over the room as a silvery Lynx patronus tore into the room, hovering in the air in the middle of the dance floor just before where Harry and Hermione stood. An ominous chill trickled down her spine as she saw it, knowing that nothing good could have come from it.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

In an instant, chaos erupted.

She turned and grabbed Harry, whose wide green eyes were still trained on the spot where Kingsley's patronus had been only a moment prior. "Find Ron!" She screamed, whipping her head around frantically she searched for his familiar shock of red hair. At that moment, however, there were several such heads fleeing and disapparating all around them.

She made to run towards one of the taller heads when her arm was snatched suddenly and she whipped around to see McGonagall gripping her arm. "Go, go now!" she said as she shoved a small pouch into Hermione's hands before running out of the tent.

It was then that Hermione focused enough to hear screams that had begun outside. They were here. She saw a flash of black hair and began charging towards it, fighting her way through the crowd of panicked wedding guests as they screamed the names of those they were searching for. As she neared the person she was heading for, relief slid in before her panic for a fleeting moment as she recognized Harry and Ron standing together, looking around frantically.

When Harry's eyes landed on her he sighed in relief, reaching out to grab her arm. "We have to go —" he started.

She shoved her beaded handbag into Ron's hand, where he looked down at it, then up at her for a confused moment. "No –you need to leave," she said, fishing in the glamoured pocket she had made in her dress to pull out a small bundled handkerchief.

"What–" Ron started, eyes widening as she unwrapped the handkerchief to reveal the small coin she had made into an illegal portkey.

"I'm sorry," she said, before dropping the coin into Harry's hand just as she snapped up Ron's empty one and closed it over Harry's. The last thing she saw before they disappeared were the twin looks of confusion on their faces.

She swallowed back the sobs that threatened to escape before she pulled out her own wand and disapparated.

X

She reappeared in the barren living room of her former family home that was furnished only by a few sparse pieces of furniture that were covered by sheets. She made to take a step forward when she was snatched back suddenly, a hand clapping over her mouth while she was dragged into a dark corner.

She screamed and flailed under her attacker's grip, her sounds and movements muffled by his hold on her.

Her husband cursed in her ear, still holding her in his iron grip. "Stop, it, Granger!" he said in an angry whisper. "We have to be quiet."

She tried to crane her neck and ask him what on earth he was going on about when she heard it. Laughter.

It was not the hearty, joyful laughter that most of her night had been filled with until tragedy struck, but a humorless, bone-chilling cackling that instantly made her blood run cold. Her eyes widened as realized who the laughter likely belonged.

Death Eaters.

She craned her neck as far as Malfoy's grip allowed, and she could see out the large bay window in the living room from just beyond the shadows they stood in. There were several dark-robed and silver-masked figures on the street outside, their loud laughter continuing to float in clearly through one of the cracked windows. Her heart started to race as she knew that it was no coincidence that they had appeared at the home of Harry Potter's best friend on the same night they'd attacked the Burrow.

"Where is the safe house?!" Malfoy whispered urgently into her ear.

She felt numb as she nodded down to the pouch she still clutched in her fingers. She vaguely felt him tearing it from her grasp as she watched the Death Eaters outside laughing amongst themselves, horror creeping into her heart as she went through the many things they could have been preparing to do.

Just then, a jet of flame erupted from the end of one of their wands, flying toward the window in the shape of a snake that jetted through the glass as though it were butter, shattering it. Malfoy dragged her out of the way, and she screamed as she saw the flames immediately engulf the place where they had just been standing. She screamed the second he removed his hand from her mouth, sobbing as he dragged her through the house while the flames licked at their heels. He stopped only to press something into her hand, and before she realized what was happening she felt the familiar tug of portkey travel at her navel.

And then they were gone.

Aaaaand the isolation officially begins! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this one - every review means the world to me!