Hermione knew something was different. Draco had come to her room and she'd let her emotions run free at him. His face had changed, the expression no longer cold. She couldn't quite bring herself to think of it; what did it mean? Why did she even care? They were supposed to be enemies. They were enemies. None of this made sense. She collapsed on to her bed and tossed. She'd never felt so prickly and uncomfortable and hot and flustered in her life. She was completely restless and she didn't know what she was going to do!

Things had been so easy when she'd just hated him.

One single moment can change everything. One little second. She'd looked into his eyes, and seen more than coolness in them. She'd looked inside herself, and seen more than hatred there. It may have taken her a little longer than sensible to realise it but…but what! Having feelings for him was no different than having feelings for Voldemort! How could she be so foolish?

But Hermione had always been a very emotional person. She couldn't just push down her emotions. She was so bloody confused!

All she'd done for the last two weeks was wept and realise how pathetic and powerless she had become. She had to stay away from Draco and from his mother, but the isolation had driven her deeper into despair, and she honestly felt she had nothing left to live for.

Except that was silly of her. She had plenty left to live for. She had her parents, if Harry or Draco hadn't already done away with them. She had Ron, wherever he was. She had little Ginny, probably somewhere, scared and worried. She had the rest of the Hogwarts population, those who still believed in the Golden Trio and Dumbledore, those who still believed that there was hope.

But something was different today. Hermione had thought all this before, but there was finality in her thoughts. She had a feeling something drastic was going to happen. It worried her, but she was ready. She'd spent too much time brooding; she was ready to fight this war at last. She just hoped she'd be alive when it ended. And she hoped it would end soon.

Draco didn't stop to question what he was about to do. He didn't stop and ask himself was he crazy. He didn't stop to think about the death that Harry would force upon him if he were found. Draco didn't stop to think about Hermione in his home. All he thought of was, logically, how he was to get Weasley out with minimal force.

His mind was focused, his emotions empty, and his heart cold.

He continued walking until he reached Tom Riddle's Muggle home.

It was strange, Harry's choice to live here. Draco had always presumed he would live in Hogwarts once they'd taken it over. Harry had always felt it to be his only home. Draco couldn't quite understand why Harry felt Voldemort old house suitable or liveable. It was dark and cold and unfriendly, and under bad repair.

The place was somewhere Draco didn't feel he should enter, if only for the fact that his black cloak would get dirty.

He opened up the creaking gate, without hesitation, and preceded up the drive-way. The garden was dark and quiet, and Draco felt as if invisible eyes were watching him. Perhaps there were. Draco wouldn't have been surprised. Why was there such a lack of security?

Was Harry that sure of his power that he let anybody into his home?

The thought was disturbing but Draco wasn't too fazed. Draco hadn't shown Harry all the powers he possessed yet either.

If they were to duel, it would be an interesting fight indeed.

He opened the door and waited but silence was all that greeted him. He shrugged to himself but he was unnerved. The house was darker than the garden had been, and just as empty. His footsteps seemed impossibly loud and Draco realised he hadn't a clue where Weasley would be held.

Dungeons?

He thought Weasley would probably be underground somewhere. He walked slowly to the door on his right, trusting his instinct, and sure enough, the door led him to a stone stairwell, leading down into a cloud of black. He briefly wondered whether to light his wand or not, but decided against it. He could use the darkness to his advantage just as much as Harry could. Draco had lived in the darkness much longer than Harry, and he felt he understood it better.

At the end of the stairs, there was a light. One feeble light on the wall, but it showed Draco another stone door. He walked through it and was met with two entryways, both identical. Draco picked the one on his left and continued on. It was inhumanly cold, and even he shivered, despite himself. He still felt like he was being watched. Harry?

At the end of the tunnel, there was another weak light. Under the light, there was a dull sheen of red. Weasley…

Draco didn't hurry himself. He kneeled once he reached Weasley and took him by the chin, pulling his face upwards. Draco felt a jolt through him.

Harry had done this to his best friend…

Weasley's face was a mask of blood. It was difficult to distinguish between Weasley's features. His whole body was small and impossibly thin. Harry hadn't feed him then? How long had Weasley been down there? His whole body was covered with cuts and burns and dried blood. But what had given Draco the jolt was the aura of power surrounded Weasley. Dark Power. Not coming from Weasley, but surrounding Harry. What had Harry actually done to the boy? What dimension of pain was he in? Draco had never seen anything like it, and that was saying something as he had lived with Lucius Malfoy for sixteen years.

There was no way Weasley could still be alive.

Yet one of his eyes cracked open and a voice came from somewhere on his face, "Malfoy?" His voice was croaky and full of anguish.

This was power. Not magical power like Draco had always thought. This was strength. Despite all of Weasley's pain, he had still hung on. He was still alive. Despite being betrayed and tortured by his best friend, he hadn't given up hope. Draco couldn't deny Weasley the respect he was due, at that moment.

"Yeah, it's me," Draco said, and there was no malice in his voice. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Perhaps it was because Weasley had suffered so much now that he no longer cared what Draco could do to him, but he detected no hatred or surprise in Weasley's one open eye.

"The chains are magically bound," was all Weasley said.

Draco didn't even raise his wand. "Not anymore," he said as they clicked off his tiny wrists without Draco lifting a finger.

Draco couldn't be sure but he could almost swear Weasley had just grinned.

Clap…Clap…Clap…

Just one steady sarcastic beat. It could only be one person, of course.

Harry Potter.

Draco turned. It was time to end this, once and for all.

A chapter, basically just to keep things moving! The rest should be up soon! This should have been up yesterday, but my password kept getting changed so I couldn't log on!

Thanks for all those who reviewed. They make me smile, so please keep it up! I'm so glad I've decided to finish this!

Love always,
Amy
xxx