"Ronald! You get down here right now! Your father and brothers need help in the yard!"

"Yeah, Mum! Come on, you lot, I'm not going down to hell on my own," Ron grumbled, plodding down the stairs with Hermione and Harry in tow. It was three days until Bill and Fleur's wedding and the Weasley house was in full uproar.

Mrs. Weasley was a whirlwind of preparations; hardly taking a breath or a moment to relax. Her most recent philosophy: if you have time to talk, you have time to chop, sweep, dust, and garden, to chase out gnomes, tie ribbons, and make sure you were presentable enough for the new in-laws. She often had Ginny and Hermione working inside with her and the boys outside, much to the trio's dismay, given that they still had much to discuss before Hermione's return to Hogwarts and the boys' hunt for the Horcruxes.

Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, along with their second daughter, Gabrielle, would arrive two days prior to the wedding, and now Mrs. Weasley was more avid than ever to keep up the house.

"Hermione, dear, those carrots are much too large. Smaller disks, please. Ginny, I asked for bows around the napkins, not knots!"

"Mum, can't we just use magic?"

"You are still underage, Genevra, do not argue again."

"But Hermione –"

"A little manual labour will do you well, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said firmly as she waved her wand at the pile of dishes overflowing the sink.

Sharing a look, the two young women continued their tasks, Ginny occasionally muttering about not being Muggle and the fact that Princess's incapability to aid in the preparation of her own wedding was going to turn her off a wedding of her own. It was mutterings like this which had forced Molly into finally allowing both girls out into the garden for a break from housework.

"Can't believe how bonkers Mum has gone," Ginny sighed once they were too far away for the Weasley matriarch to hear her grumblings.

"Well, her first child is getting married. I'm sure she will have calmed down some by the time you marry," Hermione joked as they strolled through the garden. What had once been an overgrown patch of plants and little creatures was now neatly trimmed and spread about with twinkling little fairies that would give the garden a magical shine the night of the wedding.

"Ugh, no more talk of weddings…" Ginny groaned, her head falling into her hands, her fiery hair creating a bright red curtain.

"Are things not well between you and Harry?" Hermione asked, confused. She was extremely happy for her two friends at the end of last year when they finally admitted to the feelings that developed between them. She had even accidentally walked in on them snogging more than once since Harry's arrival at The Burrow.

"Harry wants to… put us on hold until the whole You-Know-Who situation is resolved. But, Hermione, we thought he was gone the first time, and he came back! What if it's never over? What if Harry lives in constant fear of his return and doesn't want to…? Or what if –"

"Ginny, slow down and take a breath! You know Harry cares for you, that is not the question. He… he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him. He wants to protect you. He'll come 'round eventually, you'll see," Hermione assured her friend, hugging her close.

Ginny sniffed and fixed the hair back from her eyes, nodding. "You're right. He has his destiny, and I will be there for him when he's ready." She gave the brunette a small smile and they continued on through the garden.

"Come on, let's go see the boys! Maybe we can sneak in a quick game of Quidditch before Mum catches us gone for too long!" Ginny suggested giddily, pulling Hermione along and waving ecstatically to the boys, who were clearing away the leaves and overgrowth in the orchard.

"Oh, joy," Hermione muttered, but nonetheless, allowed herself to be led by the youngest Weasley to the little grove of trees.

"Oi! How'd you get away from the warden?" Ron demanded with a frown as the girls caught up to them.

"Ginny pitched a childish tantrum and she let us go for a break," Hermione explained, snatching an apple from a low-hanging branch.

"That's all it takes? Would've done that a week ago if I knew that…"

"Don't be fooled, Ronald, we don't have long."

Hermione and the boys chatted, everyone munching on the apples they found ripe enough to eat. Ginny mostly stayed quiet, sticking close to Harry's arm and leaning against him slightly. Harry returned the small sign of affection by wrapping his arm loosely around her waist, which Ron chose to ignore.

Then suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, they all heard the unmistakable pop of someone Apparating. The four friends watched in trepidation as a tall, slim figure stepped from the shadows between the trees, silent as a ghost passing over the ground. Their wands all rose in a split second, trained on the figure and expecting the worst.

The body emerged into the sunlight, his hands raised in surrender; blond hair shining white in the bright afternoon sunshine.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled, glaring at his nemesis. All eyes narrowed on the young man and Hermione cast her eyes to the shadows behind him.

"I'm alone," Draco assured them, raising his hands higher above his head.

"What are you doing here, Death Eater?" Ron snarled, his face turning ugly in his fury.

From Ron to Harry, to the girls, and back to Harry, Draco's eyes flicked like a trapped animal's. "I'm… here to join," he said finally.

"Join what?" Harry asked, his wand held high.

"Your side," the blond young man elaborated. "The Oder of the Phoenix, whatever you call yourselves."

"You mean the good guys," Ginny said.

"Like I said, whatever," he said with a sneer.

"Why?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Why betray your father and Lord?" A tickling feeling began at the base of her neck, reminding her how incredibly vulnerable they were out here in the trees if this was all a ruse to distract them while other Death Eaters surrounded them.

Draco visibly swallowed. His shoulders dropped, but he carefully kept his hands away from any pockets that may contain a wand. His eyes finally left Harry's strong gaze and fell to the ground. "I didn't sign up for what happened the night Dumbledore died…" he began slowly, choosing each word carefully – like he had practiced this before – but it was still difficult to speak each word out loud. "I didn't sign up for anything, really. Not willingly. Father forced me and the Dark Lord expected it of me. I had no choice." His eyes rose once more to connect with the group's, and Hermione would bet her wand that she saw his eyes pleading them to believe him.

"Guys, we should take this inside…" Hermione whispered, still wary of her surroundings.

"I promise, no else is coming. It's just me."

"Why did you come here, Malfoy?"

"I thought it would be the safest place," he said. "I hoped, Potter, you would be here so we could talk about it…"

Hermione watched the emotions play over her friend's face. She had always been able to read him fairly well; he wore his heart on his sleeve. Now, Hermione saw indecision written throughout every line on his face. I know he will hear Draco out… Harry has too big of a heart to turn him away…

Finally, Harry gave a curt nod and held out his hand. "Fine. We'll talk inside."

Draco obediently fished his wand from his robes and dropped it into Harry's palm. Harry led the way back to The Burrow, with Malfoy following a few steps behind him and Ron and Ginny on either side of the blond boy and Hermione following, the last three all with their wands at the ready, trained on their charge. We're treating him like a hostage, one part of Hermione thought in horror, while another, more rational and sceptical side whispered, well, he was your enemy for years…

Thankfully, when they entered the den, it was empty, and they all took a seat in silence, all waiting for Malfoy to further elaborate the reason for his presence at the home of blood traitors.

When it became evident that neither Malfoy nor Harry wanted to begin the conversation, Hermione took it upon herself to hurry things along.

"What did you want to talk about, Draco?" she asked as politely as she could. Ron shot her a confused look, as did Ginny. Harry seemed to be the only one admiring the brunette's professionalism in the situation.

Draco looked to Hermione. He was loath to tell her, she knew. Telling secrets to a Mudblood, how incredibly beneath him! The word even felt sour in her thoughts.

"Malfoy, how do you expect us to trust you if you won't trust us?" Harry snapped. His patience with the young man grew thinner each time he saw the look he directed towards Hermione. He watched as Draco pondered over his words and felt little relief when he nodded. They were all silently wishing he would say this was a mistake and they could go back to when things were normal and they could all hate each other on principle.

"I came to give valuable information to your… cause."

"Information? Like what?"

"What could a slimy git like you tell us?"

"Ron!"

"NO, Hermione, how can we trust him? He was there when Dumbledore got killed – he helped!" Ron yelled, jumping to his feet in outrage.

"I didn't kill hi –"

"Ron, sit down!" Harry shouted, causing his friends, as well as Draco, to flinch at the commanding tone of his voice. "He's here. He knew we could have blown him to bits if we wanted, but he came anyway and gave up his wand. I think that deserves our attention. Don't you?"

Ron's eyes darkened at Harry, but he seemed to hear his best friend's words through his rage because he did sit back down, but did not relax his wand arm, which he kept pointed at Malfoy unwaveringly.

Harry nodded his thanks and looked to Malfoy to continue.

"The Dark Lord put something in the Black family vault in Gringotts. He only told my father and aunt, so it must be important; something he wanted kept hidden and safe." Hermione, Ron, and Harry all sat straighter, listening, wrapped in his words.

"How do you know?" Ginny asked, harbouring the same sceptic doubts as her brother.

"I eavesdropped, obviously. Malfoy Manner is full of secret passages. I've been using them to avoid all the… unsavory Death Eaters. I heard the three of them talking in my father's study from behind a thin, panelled wall."

It was then, as the four Gryffindor's were finally getting real information from the Slytherin, that Molly Weasley chose to enter the sitting room with an armful of freshly laundered sheets to be folded.

"WHAT THE BLOODY –"

"Mrs. Weasley, it's alright!"

"Mum!"

The four tried explaining to the witch as laundry flew in every direction and the young Malfoy found himself staring down the redheaded matriarch's wand to her full fury.

Suddenly, gone was his usual haughty demeanor and arrogance that had defined the boy from their first night at Hogwarts. In their place, there was only fear. Hermione could not help but feel a small stab of pity for the young man she had utterly despised for six years. Molly Weasley's fury was something she would only wish on Voldemort himself.

"Mrs. Weasley, please. He's here to tell us something – something that could help us win the war!" Harry explained, gently pulling the woman a safe distance away from the petrified Slytherin.

"Mum, Harry says we should hear him out," Ron told her, leading her away from her other side.

"You three keep talking with him, I'll… I'll try to rein in Mum," Ginny said almost fearfully as she tugged her mother from the den into the kitchen.

Hermione tried to ignore the screaming match from the next room and the rest of them settled back down to resume the discussion.

"Who else knows you're here?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "No one even knows I left the Manner yet, besides Mother. And she's with us too!" he quickly added in reassurance, seeing the look of distrust cross their faces. However, the three Gryffindors shared a look at Draco's use of with us.

"Had to tell Mummy you were leaving the house, widdle Draco?"

"Shove it, Weasley!"

"Ron…" Hermione glowered at the ginger boy.

"My mother is furious with my aunt and my father for them allowing the Dark Lord to use me. She doesn't trust them anymore. We knew that because of my… failure to kill Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would eventually find a convenient way to dispose of me, so Mother told me to leave." He took a deep breath and looked each of them in the eye in turn. Hermione looked to both her friends. Harry appeared convinced, and even Ron seemed to be coming around to Draco's story. She had to admit, it made sense. However, she couldn't ignore the little wriggling voice of disbelief in her mind.

"Use Veritaserum if you have to! I swear, I'm telling the truth – I'm not lying. I hold no loyalty to the Dark Lord or to the Death Eaters."

"And to us?" Hermione raised a brow.

"I'm here offering information that I would be killed for simply heaving heard it, let alone sharing it with a Mud – I mean, Muggle-born – and the Dark Lord's greatest enemies."

"Can you get us into the vault?" Harry asked. In his eyes, there was hope. Hermione knew he was hoping the Black vault contained a Horcrux, or perhaps more than one, however unlikely that would be.

"I can legally get you as far as the Malfoy vault. My aunt's is just a bit deeper than ours, I've been there before," Draco said nodding.

"What about a key?" Ron asked.

Draco pulled back the collar of his robes and pulled out a chain that was clasped at the back of his neck. Dangling off the end was a small vial filled with a dark liquid Hermione was hesitant to identify.

"Only someone with Black blood can open the vault. Those who have been burned off the tree, however, are denied access and will burn at the touch."

"Your mother was a Black."

He nodded. "Before I left, she gave me this," he said swinging the vial in front of them. "She said to cut my hand and mix the bloods then press my hand to the door and it should work."

"Should?"

He shrugged. "It's old magic, it can be a little unpredictable. But this is another reason for you to trust me! Willingly risking my life to get you something of the Dark Lord's from the Black vault, I mean, that's got to count for something!"

The three friends once more shared a look. It would not take a Ligilimens to know that they were all thinking the same thing. This is our best shot, they all thought. We're going to have to trust him…

Nodding, Harry stood and offered his hand to Draco. "So when do we get in?"