Ch. 16 - Enemies with a Common Mission

The hallway was much smaller then it seemed when he was younger but he maneuvered around the one corner as if it was second nature. The smell had gotten muggier and Draco had to hold his breath while he knocked twice against the dead end wall.

He didn't know what he actually expected to find, but an empty room with an insane amount of colored pages every where wasn't it. He tip toed around them, though many of them were getting crumbled already. "Wow, Hermione, looks fun," he chuckled to himself.

He stopped though and his smile instantly faded from his face. On the bed, the coloring book was left open. It was stuck on the page where a young girl was taming an old dragon. Draco thought the colors were a bit bright but she looked Hermione so much. It also had her small, child-like signature on the bottom right corner. He ripped the picture from the coloring book quickly but carefully, folded it in a diamond shape and stuck it in his front pajama pocket, next to the disgusting pink jelly in the vile.

He checked under the beds and in his old dresser drawers. There was nothing to suggest that Hermione had even been there, aside from the pages that were impressively colored with an even hand.

He pushed some of the colorings aside and laid his back on the floor and scooted underneath the dresser. The bottom lifted up and he pulled a very old leathery bag full of Floo powder out. Narcissa had taken his broom many nights ago and he had no choice. He put the Floo powder in his pants pocket. He had never liked traveling by way of fireplace to fireplace, finding it much too dirty and dusty. His silvery hair was susceptible to all dirt, and he liked his appearance to be clean and overpowering.

The mirror across the room suggested otherwise. His hair looked like bits of straw poking here and there. His face had even grown little patches of blond hairs on his face. Draco's stunning eyes were now sunk in. His body was ravaged by the potion, his mind ravaged from the Imperius curse, giving him a blank like stare though he was quite aware of the surroundings. His night wear hung off him and were wrinkled in every spot possible. To himself, Draco looked like the worst homeless man he had ever seen.

Being the Old Draco he once was, he flopped on the bed feeling sorry for himself. If he would have left Hermione alone at the resort, wouldn't everything be better? If he had just let her be a Mudblood to him, she would be away from the manor and out of his life. She wasn't just a Mudblood though and he couldn't ignore that. When Draco wanted something so bad, he got it and he wanted her. Even now, knowing he's a half blood himself, he would keep his arrogant streak. He was still a Malfoy after all.

"Malfoy.ha! Neon Green," he huffed, flipping through the pages of the coloring book and ripping out different ones after scrawling aimlessly on it for awhile. The time was growing thin and dawn began to break over the horizon. He could see a few rays of light through the single small window. He stood up and tucked in his shirt then stuffed the pages he had ripped out into his v-neck pajamas.

Without looking back he shot through the passageway and dropped down onto the bed in a small cannonball. The bed bounced him back a few times and he landed flat on his feet. That potion Pansy had given him sure was helping. He quickly pulled out the papers out from his night shirt and pulled on a pair of his best robes and filled a bag with a few things like socks and knickers. He included Hermione's dragon picture and the vile.

At last, when he was finally done and had made his own bed, he posted each of the papers on the walls in the order he had decided on. The pictures weren't particular. A few were even of witch family's riding their broomsticks but it wasn't the pictures that were supposed to catch the eye.

Draco looked proudly at his art work then back at the bed that, even though a bit wrinkly, had been made by him for once. "Ok, then," he said, taking a deep breath. He was feeling like his old self, and right at that moment Draco knew they didn't like the old Draco and it would be a good thing to imagine all these people as Hermione, but he only laughed, for how could any of them look like his beloved Hermione? He stepped up into the fire place and bellowed, "The Burrow."

**

Narcissa hadn't returned to him until nearly dusk, but when she did she only stood there in remote silence. On his walls were yellow, faded pieces of paper that spelled out "I'LL COME BACK FOR HER," in bright green colors.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Pansy smiled at her with a glint in her eyes. "Oh, my dear mother-in-law isn't this like a fairy-tale?"

Narcissa only scowled at her. "This is no fairy tale you stupid girl. This is a nightmare and it will only end when I have done what I aim to do."

"It will happen-look at how everything is happening just as predicted. He took that potion as easily as you said he would. He was so desperate he didn't even argue. You are quite a lucky woman, Narcissa-isn't she, Mudblood?"

Hermione was behind Pansy and she only nodded and stared at the floor. She was wearing one of the out of date dresses Narcissa had been wearing. "Oh Pansy get that girl out of here. I don't like her following us around where ever we go."

Pansy laughed. "I like have a little dog as a pet. When will I ever have a person I can cast Imperius on again?"

The mistress smiled a smile the even made Pansy a bit uneasy. "You could still be surprised, young girl."

**

The swirling had given Draco quite a stir since he hadn't been in one in what seemed like a ridiculously long time. To his surprise the Burrow had been empty to his eyes-but one other was in the house, and already aware he was there.

Harry had heard a loud thump while he was reading and editing a fiction story that Ginny had been attempting to write, though his mind kept straying to Hermione who had been missing for over a week now. She wouldn't answer any of his owls. He dropped his pen at once and rushed out to see what the noise was. The Weasley's had left to St. Mungo's to get checked up on after they had all caught a cold at the same time after Ron had gotten back from Holly Horris's.

He stood in horror as he seen Draco Malfoy, or what looked like a taller, skinnier, dirtier version of Draco Malfoy. He was brushing the ashes off of his robes which looked like the only clean thing he had left. He looked up and Harry pressed his back against the hallway wall quickly. He inched down the walkway and back into his and Ron's room. He pulled his wand out of his bag and took a deep breath. He had wanted to do this for ages.

Draco was looking fondly at the thousands of framed pictures, all of various Weasley's, as if he were interested. "Stop there, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, brandishing his wand.

To Harry's surprise, Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. "Whoa, you scared me Potter," he breathed, putting his bony hand on his knee and clutching his heart. "Don't do that again. I'm unarmed. See?" He shook his pockets and flashed his open palms.

"WHY SHOULDN'T I KILL YOU?" then something clicked with Harry. "Where is she, Malfoy, you slimy git! You tell me where she is, I know you know! You're a death eater and I bet you've heard something."

"Well," Draco drawled, smirking at him, "if you were a bettin' man, you'd be rich."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry took a few steps closer to him and lowered his wand just a little but he was still ready for Malfoy to pull something out of his long sleeves.

"It means, when you put down your wand and let me sit, I can tell you everything and we can get to business."

Harry's lip curled. "I don't do business with a Malfoy and the last time I noticed I have some strength on you," he sneered.

Draco edged closer and closer to the Weasley's dining table. He pulled up a chair with one hand out and his eyes locked on Harry. He sat down with a deep sigh. "Thank you for not stunning me. I don't think I can stand anymore abuse," he laughed.

"I don't pity you one bit," Harry snapped with ice in his green eyes. "I just care about my best friend. Where is she? You said you knew."

"She's at my manor."

Harry faced flushed. "Now, I think I might kill you!" He dropped his wand and launched himself off the few steps and into the kitchen. He wrapped his hand around Malfoy's small throat and stared at him with a piercing gaze.

"Kill me then," the silver haired boy challenged. "Kill me when I am weak and we'll see when you find Hermione."

Harry looked shocked at his forwardness. "Don't call her by her name. You don't deserve to say her name!" he snarled, gripping tighter. Draco coughed and began to struggle away from him but Harry was nearly seeing red and held fast to him.

"Po-tter-i-love-her," he gagged, and the scarred boy snatched his hand away. Draco fell to the floor, coughing and gasping. "Damn it, I must have done something really bad to deserve that."

Harry Potter was still speechless though. So speechless that he had taken Malfoy's seat and was staring oddly at him. "You don't love anything but yourself," he finally said, as if he had gone over and over it in his head.

"I wish I could tell you that were true."

"And why can't you? It would be much easier for me to accept I can tell you that."

"Ah, well making it easier one you is one thing but I swore to Hermione, and I won't lie to her. Therefore lying to you about Hermione and I would make me feel really guilty. I'm proud of her really. She's the reason I'm here. Though, she paid a price for it." He hung his head and spoke again. "Please help me. I don't want or need your friendship. You or Ron means absolutely nothing to me. I just need to have her back so she can be free."

"Fine, tell me what happened and if I believe you I'll consider helping you-and you won't ever be my friend either," Harry said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Draco caught it and looked up. "Wonderful! Then we're enemies on a common mission, then." He continued to tell Harry all about Holly Horris's then when he went back. He spoke of his feelings in such great detail Harry had to urge him along to get to the long awaited end.

"Who is Merlin's name would believe a story like that? Malfoy, I am reading a teenage girl's romance fiction and it had more belief in it then any of that does. I don't see Hermione going into a relationship with you let alone not escaping when she had the chance," he paused to spit out the words, "unless she likes you too."

He was choosing his words very carefully but before Harry could muster another angry spout, Mr. Weasley landed coolly inside the fireplace. He looked befuddled at first but only waved to the small man who was kneeled at Ronald's best friend's knees. "Hiya, Harry," he said with caution, "do we have a guest?"

"No, he was just leaving," Harry tried to stand in front of Draco but Arthur only looked around him and exclaimed, "Oh my, aren't you Lucius's boy? I-am quite-sorry about your father." He was trying to sound nice.

"Don't be," Draco smiled up at him, standing up slowly, "I'm not."

Arthur nodded in a confused but understanding way. Next Ginny landed in a clumsier manner. She was blowing her nose in a rag and nearly walked past the three men standing there watching her. "Oh my," she gaped, repeating her fathers words. She covered her face with her hands and rushed up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was next in line and she was completely kind with Draco, making him wonder if she knew who he was. She sat him down, gave him a cup of tea, and began cooking, all before Ron lastly stood in the fire place with blazing eyes.

"WHO LET HIM IN? WHO LET HIM IN?" he repeated, screaming at everyone and making Ginny peek out into the kitchen with her nose rag pressed against her chest nervously.

"Now, Ron, dear don't go shooting off." Mrs. Weasley began.

"DON'T YOU TELL ME THAT? DO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS?"

Molly Weasley looked shocked at her son's behavior. "Don't you EVER TALK TO ME THAT WAY RONALD! OF COURSE I KNOW! This boy just lost his father and he's obviously in some sort of mess or he wouldn't be here. He isn't hurting anyone so SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP."

Steam was coming out of his blood shot ears but he sat down, grunting every few seconds while Draco took center stage telling his story for a second time. Ron looked thunderstruck.

"I found Slytherin robes in my things when I unpacked. I thought it was some joke someone had played on me," he growled. "So she's got herself knocked up by you no less! I think I'm going to be sick," Ron spat and stood up. "I know I won't help you find her. She got herself in this mess with the help of you! You can get her out of it!"

He stormed off, knocking the chair over and hitting his hip on the side of the kitchen counter before screaming into pillow in his room.

Draco was so tired and drained from telling the tale twice in one day and recalling every detail. He pulled out a bag and Harry shot him an evil look but didn't say anything. The pink liquid was still as thick as ever and he hungrily popped open the lid to slide a large dose down his throat but someone snatched it away and smashed it on the floor.

He looked up at Mrs. Weasley with a flabbergasted look on his face. She only smiled and waved one finger in the air. "We don't need potions in this house. We have nourishing food," she cheerfully sang. She sat a small cauldron of beef stew and a loaf of bread in front of him. "Eat up."

Draco watched the pink jelly turn into pink liquid and seep into the already dirty floor. He picked up his spoon and ate greedily to everyone's surprise. Harry was sure it looked like Draco was about to grab at his heart again when Mrs. Weasley smashed his vile.

**

I know I did good ^-^ I updated two days in a row!!! I was up from 8AM til 1PM writing so I hope it's good-my editor wasn't here so sorry for the mess ups even though he misses abunch too! I predict four more chapters and it will be over but I've got another story in the memory banks, if this one goes well in the end. EEKK I'm so excited to get to "climactic battle scene!" I know you will all love it ^-^ Thanks for all the reviews I got last night and this morning! It means the world to moi! XOXO, RatWitch