Hey! I'm so psyched that I got some reviews. I hope I get more. Just to clarify: there will be a flashback in this chapter. I hope it's not confusing. The flashback will be in the third person but the regular part of the story is in Hermione's POV. Okay? I hope that helps.

Disclaimer: The awfully talented and awe inspiring J.K.R. owns it all!

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Chapter 2

She was reading the Daily Prophet as she sat in the living room of the manor waiting for her fiancé to come home.

She heard the door open and rushed towards it. "Draco, darling. You're finally home. What took you so…"

She broke off seeing the look in his eyes. There was something very wrong about him. His nearly white hair was messily hanging in front of his eyes and his robes were all ragged. And he looked nervous, very nervous.

"Honey, w-what's wrong?" Pansy asked slightly afraid.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at her. "I-It must be done," was all he said in a voice most unlike his own.

"N-no! Draco what are you doing?! NO!" she screamed for her life.

"Avada Kedavra!" he yelled.

Pansy's lifeless body fell to the floor…but not before her tears did.

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"I'm innocent."

His matter-of-fact tone made me look up and meet his cold, gray eyes. "Excuse me?" I said looking at his calm face and trying to read him, something that was always very difficult to do with this particular ferret.

"What? Can't mudbloods hear? I said I'm inn-o-cent." He separated the word into each of its syllables, which infuriated me.

"I can hear just fine," I ground out. "But do you actually expect me to believe you?" I said pointing first at myself then at him as he had done before. It was childish, I know, but I derived some sort of sinister pleasure out of mocking him. Probably the same type he got from torturing me.

"I don't expect you to be able to do much of anything, being a mudblood, but I do expect you to believe me because I am telling the truth."

"Well it would certainly be the first time," I said under my breath.

"I didn't quite catch that. Didn't your darling muggle parents teach you to speak properly?"

I chose to ignore the comment and instead spoke very clearly. "Insulting me doesn't give me much incentive to save your sorry ass you know."

"Temper, temper, Granger. Not very professional of you," he said wearing his award winning smirk.

"Not that I would ever help you, of course," I said effectively wiping the smirk off of his face.

"You would and you will," he said threateningly.

Under normal circumstances, he might have been mildly intimidating. Then again these weren't normal circumstances.

I looked him over. He seemed to be wearing everyday robes, everyday robes for a Malfoy anyway which were probably ridiculously expensive. His hair was slightly tussled, which was probably from him running his hand through it over and over and over again. But sitting there across from me in his restraints with no wand to speak of…definitely not intimidating in the least. And did I let him know this…hell yes.

"Oh I will, will I? And how exactly are you-

He cut me off. I hate being cut off, especially since he seemed to know what I was going to say.

"Yes you will. And it's not going to be anything I say or do that will make you because I am well aware, though it deeply pains me to admit it, that I currently hold no power over this situation. So when you return to your normal goody-goody Gryffindor mode you will notice that there is one gaping hole in this case…I have no motive."

Damn, I hate when he's right. Well, if I'm going to ask him, now is as good a time as any.

"Why did you kill them," I asked ignoring the fact that he had just said he didn't have a motive.

"You really are deaf aren't you, mudblood?" he said in mock pleasantry. "Did I not just finish telling you that I had no motive? Why the hell would I kill Pansy if I was going to marry her?"

"I know I would kill her if I had to marry her," I said before I could stop myself.

His lips twitched at the sides. Almost like he was going to…no not possible. "I don't have time for this," he said exasperatedly. He put his head in his hands.

I had never seen him like this before. I was always used to the evil, heartless, ruthless, confident, take-no-prisoners Malfoy. If it was anyone else, I might have cared. But it wasn't. It was Malfoy.

"It seems to me that you have all the time in the world. I doubt the Aurors will let you leave to attend any business meetings with your beloved boss."

He looked up looking extremely annoyed. "Actually you have already met my boss. In fact, you are looking right at him."

I looked at him blankly.

"Me, Granger, me. I work for myself at my own private business. I will have no one bossing me around and telling me what to do," he said pompously.

"That doesn't make you a very good death eater does it," I said bitingly.

"I am afraid, dear mudblood, that you are wrong again. I am not now nor have I ever been a death eater."

He's just full of surprises today isn't he.

"You are pulling my leg," I said looking at him in awe. How could he just outright lie like that. I have to admit I was slightly jealous. Lying was never one of my strong points.

"As if I would ever touch your filthy leg," he said looking disgustedly under the table.

I almost burst out laughing. "It's just an expression, you idiot."

His head snapped up at the insult. "Shall we return to the matter at hand," he said through gritted teeth.

"Fine." I guess play time is over. "So tell me, what exactly is this private business of yours?"

"I'd rather not say," he said shifting in his seat.

I saw something then that I thought I would never see…Draco Malfoy…uncomfortable.

I ignored his abrupt change in mood and went on. "Well, I'm sure the court will want to know. Is it illegal? Do you make business deals often? Do you have any partners?"

I pulled out a piece of parchment and a dark navy blue quill from my briefcase. I tapped the quill on the parchment twice and the ink began to flow. It glided across the paper and wrote down everything I was saying. I was watching it closely making sure it was working correctly when I saw it write:

Draco Malfoy: stares blankly.

I looked up and sure enough he was staring at me blankly. "What the hell is that?" he said suddenly.

"Oh that? That's just my note taking quill. It really helps to look back at an interview and know exactly what the person did as well as what they said," I explained in my best know-it-all voice. Well?" He still had not answered my questions.

"No, it isn't illegal, I don't think. I make my deals about once a year and I thought I already told you...I work alone."

The quill continued to glide gracefully and added at the end of his sentence: scowls angrily.

"I do not 'scowl.'" he said even more annoyed than he had previously been.

"Calm down. I just wanted to know if you met anyone as they could easily be your alibi for one or more of the murders."

I looked at my parchment which now said: Draco Malfoy: smirks triumphantly.

I hated that the parchment was always right. "What?!" I almost yelled. It was incredible that after so many years I still hated that smirk the same, if not more so, than the first time I ever saw it.

"Does this mean you believe me?" he said triumphantly.

"No." I said simply. "However, I always do my job and my job is to attempt to defend you."

"And what exactly do you mean by 'attempt' to defend me," he said angrily. His moods changed so abruptly. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was his time of the month.

"I mean exactly what I said. There were ten witnesses that saw you in action yesterday. If they all testify, which they probably will, this will be an open and shut case and you will be on your way to Azkaban. So now you see why I said I will 'attempt' to defend you."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes. Fear?

"Are you scared Malfoy?" I asked not daring to believe it.

He looked at me in such a way that if he had a wand, I knew he would Avada me right then and there.

"Scared? Scared? Of course I'm not scared! I'm bloody cheerful, can't you tell?! I can't wait to be shipped of to Azkaban where I can become the best of friends with the dementors! I'll be sure to tell them you said hello while they're sucking out my bloody soul!" he yelled.

Maybe that wasn't the best question to ask him.

I cleared my throat. "So…there's no one who can be your alibi? Maybe your parents?" I asked carefully.

A different expression crossed his face this time and a blank look can over his eyes. "Yeah, they can be my alibi…if you can summon them from the dead," he said with a grim smile.

"Oh, I-um, I'm sorry," I whispered.

"No, you're not," he said simply. "You hated my father just as much as everyone else. There's no need for the sympathy."

I didn't really know what to say which is why I was glad when he kept talking.

"Pansy could have been my alibi. I was with her when the others were killed. That's probably why they killed her too," he said thoughtfully.

"They? They who?"

"Whoever's framing me," he said casually.

"What makes you so sure someone's framing you?"

"Granger, do use your supposed brain for a second and try to follow what I'm saying. I did not kill anyone, and yet yesterday ten people said they saw me kill again. If that's not framing me then I don't know what is."

"But…who would? What would they have to gain if you went to Azkaban? You have no partners, so therefore no one who would get the money from your business."

"My best guess…Voldemort."

Okay, he's lost it.

"What? Why on earth would Voldemort care if you went to Azkaban? Why would he go through all the trouble?"

"Because, Granger…I know things. Just because I hated my father doesn't mean he hated me. He confided quite a few things in me. Things that I could have disposed to the Ministry in exchange for a hefty reward for helping to bring the Dark Lord down. But I remained loyal. Until now that is. He is probably afraid that I might choose to divulge his dirt little secrets. He wants me out of the way. Probably how he wanted to get my father and mother out of the way," he added the latter as an after thought.

"Wait, you think Voldemort killed your parents?" I asked shocked.

He smirked. How could he smirk at a time like this? "I don't think he did, Granger…I know."

"How?"

"I saw Him do it."

"And you didn't stop it?"

His eyes flashed dangerously for a second. "And what exactly would you have me do in a room full of death eaters along with the Dark Lord, himself?" he said daring me to answer. I said nothing. "Exactly," he said.

"But, your wand. Fudge said they have your wand and they were able to get the time and the curses most recently used. They all match up."

"Ah yes, my wand," he looked angry again. "I lost my wand quite a while back, had to get a new one."

"Let me guess, you lost it about a month ago?" I said remembering something.

"How did you know?" he seemed annoyed.

"Because that's when the murders started," I said looking at him in awe.

What if?

"Malfoy, I think you've been framed," I said wrapping up my parchment and putting away my quill.

"Wow, I'm impressed Granger. Except…that's what I've been trying to tell you that for the passed HOUR! Where the hell do you think you're going, anyway?" he yelled.

I was half way out the door when I turned around. "Home. I need to sort this all out. I'll be back here tomorrow. Oh, and Malfoy? Be ready to talk…about everything."

I slammed the door shut on my way out, but not before I heard, "Bloody mudblood!" whispered under his breath.