A/N: wow I never update this quickly... oh well! Next chappy, here we go! Much thanks to SLNS and Ghost tiger for reviewing. You guys rock!

Torture?

And then she looked at me to scream
"My castles are falling"
But I can't look into the street
Without everything changing
I want to read good news
I want to be innocent again
I want to read good news
But nothing good is happening

–Something Corporate

Harry was at a complete loss for words. His mouth was opening and closing much like a fish out of water. His quick reflexes from Quidditch and constant preparation for the war were lightning fast, and soon he found himself pointing his wand shakily at the couple in front of him.

Pansy let out a tiny yelp, and made a surrendering motion.

"Pot-er-Harry!" she cried in such a desperate fashion that he felt a small pang of sympathy for her. "We don't have our wands!"

"What are you doing? I mean, how did you get here?" he demanded his eyes darting, searching for more Death Eaters. How stupid did they think he was? He had to admit it was quite an idiotic idea, sending his mortal enemy as bait and a decoy. What did Voldemort possibly think, that he was incapable of not saving someone? Well, perhaps he did feel responsible for helping innocence out of danger, but if there was one person he could deny, it was Draco Malfoy.

"Dumbledore told us, how else?" Malfoy said irritably, as if the answer was quite obvious. "Good Lord, of all people here to answer the door..." He maneuvered himself into the light, but still clutched onto Pansy. Now that he was in full view, Harry noticed how completely wounded he was. Blood was spattered all along his normally immaculate dress robes. They were torn, as if someone had dragged him through a jungle of knives. Dirt was embedded as well on his clothes, and it mingled with dried blood in his silver hair. His lip had been busted, and was swollen to the size of a marble. A fresh black eye was forming, making his own eyes seem smouldering. In short, the boy looked as if someone had cut, scratched, beaten, tortured, and strangled him in one sitting.

"Will you stop staring Potter?" Malfoy sneered, pulling Harry out of the borderline concern for him, into the intensified hatred he had always held for him since his first year. Even a battered Malfoy was an annoying prat. He had half the mind of slamming the door in his face, when Pansy interrupted the coldness.

"Draco, please." she pleaded. Now that Harry stared at her, he saw that she was sufficiently injured as well. Not nearly as bloody, but hints of black were littering her face. He had never seen the expression on her face before. Complete hopelessness.

"This was a mistake," Malfoy said, eyes flashing angrily. "I told you. Even Potter isn't that virtuous." sarcasm oozed from his voice. "Lets go-"

"Go where? You may be ready to bleed out in the street because of a silly school rivalry," Draco and Harry both opened their mouths to argue that the rivalry ran much deeper then schooltime and Quidditch. "But, I'm not going to let your arrogance kill you!"

Malfoy shot her a glance of deep loathing, but it seemed he had either lost so much blood, or had gone momentarily speechless, that he didn't care much for arguing. Pansy had softened a bit as she turned to face Harry.

"Harry," she began nervously. "He tortured Draco... Please let us in. Dumbledore told us to give you this so you'd know we were telling the truth."

Her knees buckled under his weight. Harry was unsure how, but she suddenly had withdrawn a letter with the obvious Hogwarts crest, and Dumbledore's curly writing. He knew the letter was unmistakably from Dumbledore, and couldn't fathom how they would have found Grimmauld Place without him, since he was of course the Secret-Keeper. He was also dumbfounded of why on earth Dumbledore would trust two children of very well known Death Eaters.

Malfoy coughed. "Honestly Potter, if you don't even trust your precious Dumbledore, you're more Slytherin then I gave you credit for."

Harry scowled. "Stupid prat." he muttered as he moved to let them in.

Draco Malfoy was not one to ask for help. Especially from Golden Boy Potter. Yet the dizziness was enveloping his mind as he held onto Pansy. His breathing was harsh, and he was sure that if he didn't get a Blood-Replenishing potion soon, he was going to collapse right here in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, a.k.a. The Most Idiotic Group of People I Will Ever Seek Help From, which was a horrifying thought.

He saw that Potter had made a motion to help Pansy hold him up, but he narrowed his eyes at him. There was no way he was going to let Potter touch him.

"Don't even think about it."

Potter sent him a look of deepest loathing.

Fantastic.

A sudden rumble came down the stairs. Ah, he thought bitterly, of course how could I forget... the Dream Team!

Sure enough, half of the Weasleys, Mudblood, Weaselette, the Werewolf, and some girl he had never met, but was sure that she was not wearing her natural hair color, came bounding down the steps. Their wands were out blindly, and they were dressed in a string of rather embarrassing pajamas. Draco smirked at the parade of fluffy slippers and flooded pants.

"It's Malfoy! Curse him! Quick!"

Wonderful Weasley, I'd rather enjoy another slug spectacle.

Potter made a sign of peace, yet Weasley didn't look reassured.

"Ron!" Ah Mudblood... I should have expected you to speak by now. "He's hurt!"

He couldn't contain himself.

"Seriously Granger?" he sneered. "I hadn't noticed!"

Pansy poked him between the ribs, sending sharp burst of pain through his muscles. He refused to give a cry, but felt the white hot pain ripple through him. He turned to glare at her.

"What the hell?" he hissed angrily, sure that if he had, had a wand he would curse her into oblivion.

"Just shut up for once, got it?" he hissed right back. The expression on her face was chilling, as she fumed. He shut his mouth immediately, focusing on the pain that was now flooding through him. You wait, he thought anxiously, I'll get you back for this Pansy.

Lupin immediately rushed forward, helping Draco to a very dusty couch. He was only able to express his disgust for a moment, when someone was shoving a vials of potions and pointing wands at him. His utter disbelief that these people were actually helping him was almost frightening. He seemed to have drifted for moments, but after half an hour, he was lying on the couch, feeling weakened but the bleeding had stopped.

"Here eat this, you'll feel better." Lupin handed a Honeyduke's chocolate bar to Draco, who felt nausea in his stomach by just looking at it. He noticed the Golden Trio share a smile, as if the whole chocolate deal was funny.

Good Lord, this is going to be awful.

With one last look at the five teenagers in front of him, all with completely different expressions, he rested. Weaselette, a look of wide eyed surprise. Pansy, a face full of worry. Weasley, pure loathing. Granger, a mingled look of concentration and hopelessness. Lastly, Potter... a look of complete angry confusion. Well at least he'd managed to get on Potter's nerves.

With that, he blacked out.

"Is he going to be alright?" Pansy asked in a worried tone that vaguely bewildered Hermione. She steered Pansy to the kitchen away from Malfoy, who had passed out on the couch. Well he should've, she thought to herself, Professor Lupin laced that chocolate with three Dreamless Droughts.

"Of course," she replied, rather matter-of-factly. She had never taken a liking to Pansy, but the girl was a mess. She pulled her to the sink and cleaned a some of the wounds, while sticking her wand to mend them. Pansy winced each time, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

"Look, Granger." Hermione's eyes snapped up, outrage beginning to coarse through her body. After all this, the girl was calling her Granger?

Pansy seemed to have taken the hint, and tried frantically to redeem herself. "Hermione... sorry, old habits die hard."

"Like calling me mudblood? Or being absolutely rotten to anyone who wasn't apart of your little 'clique?'" she would have liked to say more, but the beaten sight of Pansy softened her tongue just a bit. She remembered chiding Ron for not embracing Inter-House Unity. Surely they were adults now. They could handle each other.

Pansy stared at the floor, tears welling up in her eyes. She just looked so... so... Hermione debated, and then realized she had never seen a Slytherin with that emotion. She was painfully pathetic and helpless.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled to the ground. Ah the infamous refusal of a true apology was still there, but Hermione knew how hard it must have been for her to say those words. She calmed herself a bit, if only to find out, what were they doing here?

"What happened Pansy?" Hermione asked, not bothering to dodge around the subject any longer, it really wasn't in her nature. Besides, if they were to make small talk, what would she say? It wasn't like they had anything in common surely.

Pansy sniffed. "I don't know... it's Draco... he-he..." she burst into desolate sobs, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking violently. The tears that had been threatening to come since Hermione had seen her in Grimmauld Place were now flowing freely. She wiped the snot from her face, and looked completely horrid.

Hermione had many choices. She knew she had hated this girl since second year when she had been oppressed against by both her and her stupid chittering girlfriends. She recalled the small bit of envy she had felt, even it only for an instant. Yet here this girl was, emitting loud sobs from her mouth, had obviously been through hell, and for some strange reason, Dumbledore trusted her.

She reached over and snatched up a rag and filled a glass of cold water. Handing them both to Pansy, she muttered softly. "Calm down... Pansy, calm down."

She listened intently to the words in between heaving breaths.

"He-he said he d-didn't want to... he said he w-wanted to be f-f-free..."

Confusion was clouding Hermione's mind.

"You're not making sense, Pansy. Free from what?"

"Everything! His father!" her voice suddenly became very hushed. "Him..."

The cranks in her brain clicked.

"Voldemort?"

Pansy gave a loud yelp at the name but nodded vigorously and howled, "Yes! Him! And they did... things to him." she made a terrified face. "Horrible, horrible things! And I tried to help, but I-I couldn't. They were going to kill us, but there was a Portkey, and-and... oh!" she had a fresh wave of tears. "Ask Draco, please ask Draco!"

Hermione was stunned. Much of it didn't make any sense. A Portkey? Draco refusing the Dark Mark? It still didn't explain how they had gotten here. When had they spoken to Dumbledore? Her story had too many holes.

"Pansy, you're not making sense..." she began heavily.

"Ask Draco! Don't ask me anymore!"

Out of pity and sheer exhaustion, Hermione stopped asking questions. However, she was sure to have an interesting conversation with Malfoy after this.

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Pooks