A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! It's true that Draco began to feel something other than hatred or ambivalence toward Hermione in the last chapter. Let's see how it plays out!

And before I get hate for "Ron bashing," I would like to point out that this story is from Draco's POV. And we all know how Draco sees Ron. There will be other stories of mine where Ron will be cast in a much more favorable light, but it won't be this one. But don't worry, Ron will be back abroad and out of Draco's hair very soon.

Alpha love: Biscuitsforpotter

Beta love: Disenchantedglow

Granger was out of sorts the next morning. Every time she looked at Draco, her cheeks would burn crimson and her eyes would dart away from him. He might have thought it was funny if he weren't so annoyed with her.

Weasley was even worse. The ginger man walked around all morning like he was king of the fucking world. He had fully embraced his bedraggled look—hair sticking up in all directions, a thin t-shirt, and pajama bottoms which sat far too low on his narrow hip bones—and a smug grin stretched across his face all through breakfast. More than once before lunch, Draco found himself sneering behind Weasley's back. Couldn't the man at least be a little more subtle about his conquest? For Granger's sake if nothing else?

Draco's opportunity to knock Weasley down a peg came after lunch, when Ginny suggested that they play a game of Quidditch. Eager to best her brother, Ginny asked Draco to be on her team, leaving Ron paired with Dean.

Ginny was better than her brother in all ways, but, most importantly for Draco, in Quidditch. It helped that Ginny and Draco had been flying one-on-one games at least once a week for the past month. Draco knew how she flew and what she was capable of on a broom.

The red headed girl had finally stopped glaring at Draco when she realized that he was her only decent flying companion in the house. Gradually, the two had formed the same careful civility that he shared with Granger.

Weasley was a fair Keeper, but he was rusty and didn't stand much chance against Ginny's skills as a Chaser. The more points she scored against her brother, the more frustrated he became. Soon, his face matched his burgundy jumper from exhaustion and ire.

After twenty minutes, the score was 40-10 in favor of Draco's team. Ginny passed Draco the Quaffle and he raced across the garden toward the rings they had drawn in the air magically. He rolled on his broom to avoid Dean. Nearly within scoring distance, Draco adjusted his grip to prepare to make his shot when he was suddenly hit hard in the side by a blur of burgundy and ginger hair.

All of the air was forced from his lungs and he tumbled off his broom, falling through the air. He braced himself for impact with the ground and his impending broken limbs.

"Arresto Momentum!" a voice cried hysterically.

His fall slowed, and he landed lightly on the grassy lawn. Laying back, he took stock of his body. He gingerly moved his fingers and toes, wrists and ankles, and finally knees and elbows. No broken limbs, but his side hurt like hell. He coughed, wincing at the stabbing pain that shot through his ribcage.

Granger kneeled beside him. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her eyes fearful on his body. She was out of breath, and Draco wondered if she had run to him.

"No, I'm fantastic," Draco wheezed, clutching his injured side. Granger gently moved his hands away and began pressing her fingers lightly into each of his ribs. When she reached his fourth rib from the top he flinched, sucking in air through his teeth.

"That was a foul, Ron!" Ginny shouted, landing her broom and pointing viciously at her brother.

"I was just playing defense," Ron countered, still flying in circles above them. "He's fine. Just keep playing."

"I think you've broken a rib," Granger tutted.

"I'm lucky he didn't kill me," Draco seethed.

"Don't be dramatic. You weren't that far off the ground," Granger replied, rolling her eyes.

"Then why did you slow me down?"

"The harder you fall the more bones I have to mend for you. My motivations were purely selfish, I assure you," she said, her eyes meeting his with a smirk.

He laughed, immediately regretting it when his rib stabbed into him again.

"Come on, let's get you inside and fixed up. Can you stand?"

With Granger's help, Draco pushed himself to his feet with great effort and pain.

"I guess that means you forfeit?" Weasley called after him as he shuffled toward the house.

"Are you insane?" Granger snapped.

"We won, Ron!" Ginny shouted, following Draco and Granger up the back steps. "Don't be a sore loser."

Granger led Draco to the couch and helped him lie down.

"Hermione's an amazing healer. She'll get you patched up in no time," Ginny assured him with a smile. "Shame Ron leaves tomorrow. I'd love to do a rematch and have Gryfferin really kick his arse."

"Gryfferin?" Draco queried.

"Gryffindor… Slytherin," said Ginny, gesturing to herself and then to him. "Gryfferin. I figured it would be a good team name for us."

Draco considered this for a moment. "I think I would prefer Slytherdor," he smirked.

Ginny laughed. "I'm sure you would, but I named the team, so I think I should get first billing." She wandered back through the kitchen and into the back garden again.

Draco turned his attention back to Granger, who was frowning at him. "Could you remove your shirt, please?" she requested, her cheeks going a bit pink.

Carefully pulling his jumper over his head, he saw a horrible purple bruise already spreading across his ribcage.

Granger bit her lip and pulled out her wand. She muttered a few spells that he did not recognize before telling him, "Well, luckily you haven't punctured your lung. It's just the broken rib. I'll set it with a spell and then give you a topical potion for the bruising and another potion for you to drink that will heal the bone."

Draco nodded.

"The spell will hurt, but only for a moment," she told him, pointing her wand at the broken rib. "Are you ready?"

"Do it," Draco growled through gritted teeth. Granger muttered a spell and there was a loud crack and a snap of pain. He shouted out, "Fuck!"

"I warned you," Granger murmured with an apologetic smile. "I'll be right back with those potions." She stood up and hurried upstairs, returning a moment later with a small phial, a little jar of pale yellow salve, and some gauze wrappings. She uncorked the phial and handed it to him. "Drink this," she ordered.

He did as he was told, suppressing a cough at the harsh fluid. Granger sat back down on the edge of the couch and took the lid off of the small container of salve she held. She scooped a bit onto her fingertips and began to rub it into his bruised flesh.

He flinched at her touch and she pulled her fingers back. "I'm sorry. Does that hurt?"

Draco shook his head. "No," he whispered.

Honey eyes flickered to his for a moment before returning her attention to his bruise. She rubbed in small circles, adding extra salve to the darkest areas, returning to the container to retrieve more several times.

Draco cleared his throat. "Your boyfriend has quite the temper, Granger."

Her fingers stilled for a moment. "Oh…" she muttered shakily, her hand resuming its circles. "Er… Ron's not my…" she trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck. "We're not…" She pulled her hand away from him and returned the lid to the container. "He can be very competitive, that's all," she said, and Draco wondered if she was still talking about Quidditch.

She reached for the gauze. "Can you sit up? I'd like to wrap your ribs to help the salve sink in properly and give you a bit of support until the bone is fully healed."

Draco pushed himself to sit up straight and lifted his arms so that Granger could begin to wrap the gauze around him. "Ginny seemed very confident in your abilities as a healer. You really think you're that good?"

Granger paused and grinned at him. "I'm not good. I'm excellent," she said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes and she continued to wrap. With each circle, she had to lean close to him to swathe the gauze around his torso, and with each revolution, her hair tickled his chest. He held his breath until she sat up straight, securing the gauze with a spell. "All done," she announced. "How does it feel?"

Testing his mended rib, Draco took a deep breath and bent side to side a bit. It was a little sore, but certainly much less painful than it had been before she healed him. "Much better," he determined.

Hermione stood and gathered the container of salve and empty phial. "It should be completely healed in a day or two. If the bruising is still bad tomorrow I can give you more salve."

Draco nodded and pulled his jumper back over his head. "Thanks."

Granger waved her hand dismissively. "Don't mention it."

"Hermione," came Weasley's clipped voice from the kitchen. Granger's head snapped up and her cheeks went a bit pink. "Can I talk to you?"

Draco's mood soured again as she hurried away from him to meet Weasley. One more day, thought Draco. One more day of this and then the Weasel would be gone again. Sent back to whatever Order missions he worked abroad. If he was going to survive the day without throttling the other man, Draco decided that he would simply need to stay away from the ginger menace. He trudged up the stairs and back to his bedroom, determined to see his other housemates as little as possible over the next few hours.

That evening, the residents of the Longbottom house travelled together to Headquarters for the weekly Order meeting. Draco sat in his usual spot along the outer wall of the dining room. Tonight, Ginny sat on his right and Cho on his left. The two witches chatted across him about Quidditch and their recent missions, occasionally including Draco in the conversation as well.

It seemed that with each weekly meeting, he was greeted with less and less hostility and suspicion from his new allies. Draco was relieved by this development. It made it much easier for him to sit quietly and listen for any news of his mother, Theo, or Pansy.

"Many of you know about the battle that took place yesterday in Bibury," said Shacklebolt after catching everyone up on the most pressing issues. "We were able to apprehend several Death Eaters. One of these men, Snyde, was stunned after the battle by Malfoy. This morning he was interrogated under the influence of Veritaserum. He did not have much information for us. It seems that he was not high enough in the ranks to have access to valuable knowledge."

The Minister's eyes flickered around the table before he continued. "However, we did learn that he was sent to Bibury, not to participate in the battle like the others, but to make an attempt on the life of one of our own."

Several heads turned towards Potter, who appeared to be bracing himself for the news that yet another Death Eater wanted him dead.

"Hermione," said Shacklebolt. "It seems you are being targeted."

Granger's mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide. Quiet, shocked murmurs bounced around the room. "Me, sir?" Granger squeaked. "Why?"

"I don't know. And what's more, Snyde didn't know either. It seems that he was not told why he was required to kill you. He was merely following orders from Dolohov," explained Shacklebolt.

Granger's eyes flickered to Draco for a moment, and he could practically see the thoughts and theories bouncing around in her mind. She looked away from him again and back to the Minister. "What should I do?" she asked.

"I would like to assign a protective detail to you for the time being. Until we know more about why you are being targeted we will need to be extra cautious. You will not be sent on any potentially dangerous missions. You should know your main priority. Is that understood?"

Draco watched as comprehension dawned in Granger's eyes. She nodded seriously.

What had that been about? What was her priority? Was that the reason he had been asked to target her?

Not that he had any plans to tell Granger how close he had come to making her another one of his victims…

Shacklebolt addressed the entire room again. "If anyone has any ideas as to why Hermione is a target, please inform me immediately. I'll read out the lodging assignments and then I would like to talk with Hermione, as well as Harry, Charlie, Bill, and Draco about her protective detail."

Draco blinked. Shacklebolt wanted him to be a part of Granger's protective detail? The Minister knew what Draco had done with the Death Eaters and still wanted him watching over the Golden Girl?

Shacklebolt withdrew a list from his robes and unfurled it. One by one, he listed off everyone's safehouse assignments for the week. Draco would be with Granger at the Longbottom house again along with Potter, Finnegan, and Lovegood.

Once the Minister had dismissed everyone else, Draco moved to sit at the table for the very first time. He sat across from Granger, whose eyes were downcast. One of her fingers absentmindedly ran repeatedly over a small groove in the table's surface. Weasley was arguing with Shacklebolt, demanding to be a part of the meeting for Granger's protection.

"No," Shacklebolt said firmly. "This meeting is for her protective team only. Seeing as you're leaving for Finland tomorrow morning, that disqualifies you."

"Please, sir," Weasley protested, growing red in the face.

"Absolutely not. If you are privy to this information and are then captured, it could put Hermione at greater risk. We must keep the circle small. Now, if you don't mind…" the Minister gestured toward the door and gave Weasley a stern look.

With a scowl, Weasley stalked out of the room, closing the door a bit too loudly behind him.

Shacklebolt waved his wand, magically sealing and silencing the room. "Now," he began, taking a seat at the head of the table. "I am hoping that having Mr. Malfoy here will help to shed some light on a few things."

Draco's stomach twisted as all of the men's eyes fell upon him. Surely Shacklebolt was not about to tell everyone that he had been an assassin. Granger had still not looked up from the groove in the table. Her brow was furrowed and she appeared to be thinking deeply.

"Do you know anything about how they might plan an attack?" Shacklebolt asked.

Shifting in his chair, Draco chose his words carefully. "I know that the Death Eaters view the Order properties as impenetrable. I don't think they know where our safehouses or headquarters are and therefore will not be able to reach Granger while she is there." He paused, looking around the table before continuing. "St. Mungo's is a bit more vulnerable, so we should definitely make sure that she is protected while working. It would be extremely risky for them to make an attempt on her life in such a public place, but if they're training morons like Snyde to be assassins, then it's possible. Honestly, she'll be most vulnerable on her walk to and from the hospital every day. Out in the open and alone. If Granger isn't going to be going on any missions for a while, then her commute to and from St. Mungo's is their best opportunity for an attack."

Draco sat back in his chair, signalling to Shacklebolt that he was finished speaking. A second later, Granger's head snapped up, her eyes going wide with sudden realization. Her head tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed slightly. Her lips parted briefly and she took in a little gasp of air before closing her mouth and looking away from him.

"I will see what can be done about approving a safer commute for you, Hermione. Perhaps that is something that we should have looked into long ago," said Shacklebolt, shaking his head. "I would also like to be sure that one of these wizards is with you at all times."

"Sir, is that really necessary?" Granger asked. "Surely there are more important things for them to be doing."

Shacklebolt frowned at her. "The threat against you is extremely serious, Hermione. If it weren't for the quick actions of Mr. Malfoy, you may very well be dead."

Granger's cheeks flushed and her misty eyes flickered to Draco once more.

"We will do what we must to keep you safe, and I expect you to obey the protocols we decide upon today. Is that understood?"

Granger nodded. "Yes, sir," she mumbled sheepishly.

For the next hour, the five wizards and Granger worked out the details of her protective detail. Draco was on duty for the next three days and then Potter would take over after that. They would all take turns, three days at a time, watching over Granger until they could be sure that the threat to her life had passed. Draco braced himself for the possibility that it would be the end of the war before the threat was removed.

When Shacklebolt dismissed them, Draco stood and waited for Granger to join him. She dawdled with her bag for a moment, her eyes flickering to him a couple of times before finally standing and walking to the door to meet him.

"Ready to go?" he asked a bit gruffly. The prospect of watching over Granger was not something that excited him. He'd gotten a brief glimpse of freedom, but being her bodyguard was just another form of prison in his mind. At least he would only be on duty for the next three days.

Granger nodded and hurried out the door.

Lovegood and Finnegan were waiting for them by the fire. Once Potter caught up to them, holding the Portkey issued by Shacklebolt, the five all gathered together and were whisked away to the Longbottom house.

Draco spent twenty minutes or so setting wards on Granger's room with Potter's help. If anyone attempted to gain access to her bedroom or if she tried to sneak out, Draco would be alerted until his shift had ended.

Granger scowled while they worked. "Am I to have any privacy anymore?" she pouted.

Turning to her, Draco gave her a serious look. "The room is still yours. You can come and go as you please, we just need to know where you are. We assume the safehouses will be secure enough, but can never be absolutely certain."

"That should do it," Potter announced as he pocketed his wand and turned away from Granger's bedroom door. "I've done the window as well."

"Thanks," Granger grumbled before walking past them into her room and closing the door with a snap.

Granger would certainly be a charming delight to protect. Draco rolled his eyes and walked down the stairs with Potter. The two wizards entered the kitchen and Draco sank into a chair at the table with a sigh.

"Fancy a drink?" Potter offered, extracting a bottle of Firewhiskey from the cabinet.

"Shouldn't you be telling me to stay sober if I'm on duty?" Draco pointed out as Potter placed two empty tumblers on the table.

"One drink won't kill you," Potter determined, pouring a bit into each glass. "Or are you a terrible lightweight?"

Draco glanced up at the Auror to see a small smirk playing at his lips. Rolling his eyes, Draco just picked up his glass to take a sip. The amber liquid warmed his throat and relaxed his mind.

"Listen, Malfoy," Potter said, sitting across from him. "I know you don't care about Hermione. I'm not sure why Kingsley thought you should be on her protection detail, but I hope that your personal feelings toward her won't affect your commitment."

Personal feelings… Draco considered those words. Did he hate Granger as he had when he arrived? Perhaps not as fiercely, but he refused to even think that he may have any sort of fondness for her. She was still a swotty know-it-all, afterall. But would he let her be killed by Death Eaters? No. It was his job to protect her now, and he intended to do just that.

"Potter, you don't need to worry about it. Granger won't be murdered on my watch. You have my word," Draco promised.

Potter regarded him carefully for a moment before nodding. "I guess I don't have to tell you what will happen to you if you're lying," he warned.

"No, Potter. You don't need to give me the overprotective father routine. I'll keep her safe."

A pulsing in Draco's wand hand began suddenly, alerting him to Granger exiting the wards of her room.

Draco stood and grabbed his glass before walking up the stairs. The brunette witch was standing outside of his bedroom door, a frown playing at her lips. She turned when he approached, her eyes flickering back and forth between his. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked hesitantly.

With a nod, he reached past her to open his bedroom door, gesturing for her to enter the room. He followed her inside and closed the door. "If you're going to ask if someone else can watch over you, you'll have to take it up with Shacklebolt or Potter," Draco said.

"No, that's not it," Granger said, shaking her head.

Draco waited for her to speak. He hated that she was making a habit of coming to his room and shuffling her feet awkwardly without just coming out with it. "Then what is it?" he probed.

"I just… I don't understand," Granger said vaguely. "Why am I the one being targeted? Wouldn't they want Harry more than me? Or even you!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Granger," Draco said gruffly.

"I just don't understand why this is happening now. I haven't done anything!"

Draco hesitated. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand over his face. "I don't know why they want you, but I do know that this didn't just happen. You've been a target for months."

"What do you mean?"

"Since before I joined the Order."

Granger backed up a few steps, wringing her hands. Her eyes were downcast but darted about as her mind tried to work out the implications of his words. He knew that she was just mere seconds from solving the puzzle. "You—!" she gasped. "You were going to… to… "

There it was: The horrifying truth that he had been trying to conceal from everyone for nearly three months. Draco cleared his throat, but did not reply.

"The day before Kingsley brought you to that first Order meeting," she began, her voice wavering. "I could have sworn someone was following me. Oh, Merlin…"

"I told you your commute was vulnerable," Draco said evenly.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his in shock and Draco noted with horror that they were filled with tears. "You were going to kill me." Her voice was slow and even, but he could hear the terror behind it.

Draco said nothing.

"But you didn't," she concluded.

Again, he remained silent.

"Why?" she asked.

Why? In honesty he didn't know why. He had thought of that moment many times over the past couple of months and could still not pinpoint any logical reason why he hadn't cast the spell that would have ended her life.

Seconds ticked by and still he had not answered her. He knew that anything he said to her would be analyzed in detail for every possible explanation. Perhaps she would assume that he had a heart, a heart that felt something other than deep hatred for her. That there was more to him than a skilled assassin. Sadly, it wasn't true. Dolohov had seen to that. Any human emotion for anything and anyone other than his mother had been suppressed in his training, reduced to mere dust to make way for the High Minister's most deadly weapon: him.

"If you want to know why you're a target, you should think about things you did around that day. Perhaps you offended someone. Though Dolohov doesn't typically indulge his followers' personal vendettas. Maybe you saw something that seemed trivial at the time but was actually very important. I'm sure you'll figure it out." He took a few steps toward the exit and opened the door, hoping that she would take the hint that the conversation was over.

Granger frowned, but walked to the door. On her way out, she placed her hand gently on his arm, pausing to look up at him with wide eyes.

Draco stared back at her, holding his breath. Heat spread through his sleeve from her warm hand.

"Thank you," she said at last. Horror still filled her teary eyes, but there was something else there as well. A look that Draco wasn't sure he would ever understand.

The dust stirred within him; something long forgotten breathing new life again. Mouth too dry to speak, Draco just nodded and took a step back until she walked through the door and left him alone in his dark room.

A/N: Updates every Monday. Next Chapter: April 20th

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