Title: The Guest

Rated: M

Summary: Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

Chapter 4

The ground, he speculated, was rather too dirty for his liking. It seemed that a nightly prowler had gone about muggle garbage and tipped them over one by one, causing the sidewalk and road to be filled with muggle rubbish. It was disgusting to say the least, but in all honesty he was rather happy he was out here among trash than among tainted blood.

And in just a few hours, he would be back among his own kind that he so dearly left behind. To think of it now, as he had every night, he hadn't the slightest idea why he ever opened his mouth that evening in Dumbledore's office two years ago. That was the beginning of this horrible ride. He ended up informing the man he supposedly hated more than Potter every dirty secret his father had trusted him upon. One by one, he listed off every Death Eater, Death Eater to be, and Death Eater retiree. In that moment, as his mouth rambled on and on, he was sure he was doing the right thing especially when Dumbledore's eyes lit up.

One would wonder, what in Merlin's name was he thinking, going against his father's wishes while he lay in a cell beckoning death to rid of him the torture he was receiving nightly by the dementors? The thing is, as much as he loved his dear crazy father, he feared his life and the life of his mother. She was not at all doing well after his father was sent away and he assumed that maybe, maybe this weird old coot headmaster could help his broken family. And of course, he did want to be on a winning side, but he never would have considered that running his mouth could supposedly save him.

And it had, temporarily.

For the two last years he spent in Hogwarts knowing Potter was out there saving the day as usual, Draco lived not fearing the worst. Draco rolled his eyes from the thought. Did Potter really like putting his life on the line constantly? If someone asked Draco to do the same not only would he laugh a long, dreadful and evil laugh, but he would also hex the person for even considering it. He cherished his life, so much he would do anything to prevent death.

Even if it meant being a tattletaler.

But little did he know at the time that tattletaling would put his life on the line. Someone tipped Lord Voldemort off that Draco had let Dumbledore know who the Death Eaters were behind the masks and in return, warned off any Death Eaters who have not been caught by the Ministry yet. The remaining ten Death Eaters than formed a small hunt-and-kill-Draco club after Voldemort was defeated in Draco's seventh year. But because of their reputation for the most wanted wizards; Draco was able to begin his journey of hiding.

Since Dumbledore and the Order decided to exploit his knowledge, he felt used. So in return, he used their resources to 'protect' himself and get their help to hide him until he thought of a better way to handle his very complex situation. But the way they treated him only made things worse for himself. For one thing, he was wandless. Thanks to Moody's belief that Draco would turn against them and he was stuck with Granger. Why they would pick her over any of the older members in the Order still left him clueless, but he didn't care as long as he had a roof over his head. He was sure at the time that using them was temporary and that thought alone made it bearable to be in Granger's company.

Selfish you are Draco, he thought as he kicked a broken bottle down the sidewalk and watched it roll to the road where no muggle contraptions called 'cars' spun by. It was empty, it was cold and he was fidgeting. Where was the bloody Knight Bus? Didn't they appear at a time like this?

Draco sighed. Of course not, they most know he was a Malfoy and supposedly rich enough to afford transportation. But for the hell of it, Draco took out Granger's wand that he had stolen while she was in the Kitchen and held it out. He had heard from some dirty bar-men in Knockturn Alley that all he had to do was stick his wand out and he did so. But for the second time, nothing occurred.

Angrily, Draco laid his trunk down on the street and sat on it. He was not planning to let street dirt touch his trousers; they were after all custom-made. He fished out the letter that was sticking out of his sweater pocket and re-read it.

Draco,

Before you freak out on me I would like to reassure you that I did not hex this letter. That isn't my intention anyway. And I figured right now, the last thing you need is a nagging friend. But I'm a friend nonetheless. And as one, I give a 'flying fuck', as you kindly put it, about your whereabouts. I'm not about to rush to the Ministry or to your father's friends anytime soon. And I'm assuming you most likely blame me for the deep hole your in, but I promise you, I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

I want you back here, with your family. I bet you're wondering, what family do I have left? You have me, Draco. I care about you and as much as you don't believe in love, I love you as well. I want you safe. So I have a proposition to make.

I know you're hiding. I've checked your Gringotts account, you haven't taken any money out which draws to my next conclusion, you have help. Whether it's Potter, Dumbledore or a banshee, you do not need them or their sympathy's.

Remember the old Parkinson Cottage in Ireland? Well, I'm there right now. And I hope you would join me. I will help you hide if necessary. Although I believe what you have done was foolish, I'm willing to draw up solutions. We can make things better Draco. I've never lied to you before. So for the love of Merlin, stop running away from your problems and face them like a man. I will give you a week's time to think of about this for I will be going back to the Manor eventually.

Love,

The only person that cares,

Pansy

Draco sighed and looked away from the letter. She was right. Pansy Parkinson was bloody right. She was the only person that cared from day one at Hogwarts. Obviously, he knew she had nothing to do with his irrational actions. Yet he had blocked off any contacts from Slytherin's after graduation. He had to. It was the only way at the time to keep himself safe. Dumbledore had this crazy idea that if he hid, the Death Eaters would eventually give up looking for him and find something else to do while Potter hoped that he could get his own hands on them.

That Potter was not normal. He had the venom of a monster once unleashed. Draco had some of that as well, but he was more practical. He would fight only if it concerned near death situations while Potter would run to danger. Merlin, he could be thick!

Anyhow, he wasn't going to think bout the Order anymore. They didn't need him and he didn't need them. He was only a burden. He had caused himself to be the number one enemy by opening his mouth and now he had to face the consequences; living forever in hiding. He snorted. Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

Suddenly, and subtly the trees began swaying to an unknown wind factor. His sweater began flapping as well and he stood up worriedly. He stuck out his wand once more to protect him from whatever that was coming because he was certain something was coming his way. Paranoia took over him but before he could begin to spin around and wonder what was causing the ruffling of trees, a light beamed in his face and stopped right in front of him. Draco squinted and looked at what he knew to be the Knight Bus.

The doors flapped open quickly and a filthy, tall, scrawny man appeared. He looked at Draco then searched for something deep in his pocket and took it out.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. I am your conductor for tonight." He pointed at his shirt. Draco did not care at all to hear the rest of his speech so he placed the wand in his back pocket, grabbed his trunk, pushed the man aside and entered the bus. The man quickly followed, shocked by Draco's actions and irritated.

"You certainly are a rude one."

"Are you the driver?" Draco suddenly asked.

"Well, umm…no."

"Then shut up and take me to King Cross Station!" Draco yelled.

"That will be fifteen sickles." He replied. Draco hadn't wasted anytime as he took out a small pouch he kept in his sweater pocket containing a few galleons he had for safe keeping. He handed over some silver, knowing it was more than enough and waited for the conductor to do his job. The man hesitated as he took the money and turned around than tapped on a window.

"Do you hear that Ernie? King Cross Station."

Draco was not expecting to be thrown half way down the bus and back as it sped off. He landed against a bed that moved and shook to every bump. While he forced himself to a comfortable sitting position, the host came over to him.

"Blonde hair, piercing eyes, bad attitude. A Malfoy."

"Is there a rule that says you must speak to the passengers?" Draco asked annoyed. The man was taken back by this and while his mouth remained open for a moment, Draco took a glance at his name tag: Stan Shunpike.

"There's no rule for that, but there are rules such as if one is high and mighty, they can pay for their own way to get to King Cross. You do not need our services and I could easily kick you off this bus."

"The Knight Bus was meant to provide emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard." Draco replied knowingly.

Stan couldn't continue the verbal argument and quickly left him alone. Draco spent the rest of the ride thinking to himself. Or more like self-pitying though he would never admit it. So he decided to think of something else. It was then that he wondered what Granger was doing. No doubt worrying her pants –scratch that, her shirt- off. He smirked smugly. He certainly left her a nice parting gift before he had apparated out of her apartment. Of course, he wished he was there to see her reaction but nothing ever went in his favor. He figured she was speaking to her boy toys on the muggle device he had once learned in Muggle Studies.

Once the driver came to a full stop, also dropping Draco on the floor and the metal of the bed hitting his hip bone, Stan signaled him to leave. Once he was out the bus, Stan also took the liberty of throwing his trunk out carelessly. Draco cursed and considered whether or not it was safe to cast a dangerous spell on Stan but after a long moment, sensibly decided against it. He picked up his trunk and strolled off. It was too early in the morning for Draco to get a ticket to Ireland so he stood at one of the muggle platforms and waited until the clock on the brick wall moved to seven o'clock in the morning: three hours and a half away. Oh, the joys of waiting.

A/N: Okay, this is a very very late update and I'm super sorry. I haven't updated my other story and I will eventually but I've been busy with a few things, my opening of my personal/blog site and reading HBP! It was a wicked book minus the bad sub romance plot which I'm willing to over look. I was worried at first cause I thought I couldn't continue to write my stories because it is SO AU but I'm gonna continue anyway, with my head held high lol.