A/N: I am so, so, so sorry about the wait. I promised an update within a week, and here it is October 17th. The fact is, my computer died, and the hard rive was completely erased (don't worry, all my writing is saved on my laptop also), and it took my father a week and a half to get it running again. I'm so sorry about that. take comfort in the fact that I wrote another three chapters while my computer was down, so the next two should be up soon as well. Sorry again, and thanks for the reviews!

CHAPTER NINE: KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

HERMIONE "81030"

MASTER'S PALACE

"All right, harken to me," said George, who appeared to be the head servant. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up. He began assigning jobs to everyone; people to serve the salad, the soup, the appetizers, the entrees, the dessert, and the coffee.

I got the job of coffee-server.

Whoopie.

So we all made the salads look beautiful, careful with their presentation, and sent Harriet out to serve it. Harriet then waited inside the doorway of the room until they were finished, and took their plates away, leaving the room with them. Then Jeff went in and served the soup, and so on.

Finally it was my turn. I was nervous as hell. Harriet gave me a tray and a pat on the back; George opened the serving room door for me. I offered them a weak smile and carried the tray down the hall into the dining room. I poured the two men their coffee and was pouring Master's when I heard the sharp intake of breath from one of the men. I didn't look at him, just added sugar to Master's coffee from the bowl.

I looked up from the sugar when I heard a loud clearing of a throat...

And looked into the eyes of Draco Malfoy. He took in my bruised face, my bloody lip and empty eyes; that was all he had time to see before I went sprawling on the ground, my cheek stinging. Master had hit me again; this time, closer to my eye. I prayed I wouldn't receive a black eye as well.

"You do not look guests in the eye!" Master roared dangerously.

"Yes, Master," I said meekly, but Draco was on his feet.

"You will not hit her again," I heard him order quietly, his voice just as dangerous as Master's despite it's quiet.

"I'll do what I wish with my slaves," Master retorted.

"You won't," Draco replied. "I wish to buy her, and I'll not have you damaging my property."

"Of course, young master Malfoy," Master answered.

"Tristan, take care of the purchase, would you?" Draco asked the other man, and the man nodded.

"Of course."

And then I felt arms around me, familiar strong warm arms, and I was lifted to my feet to find myself staring into slate-grey eyes.

"Hi," I said softly, staring at him and smiling weakly; the smile turned into a flinch when he reached towards my face. It had become reflex.

He looked shocked and angry as he touched my cut lip, ran his fingertips lightly over my bruised cheek. I didn't look away from his stone-colored eyes, fascinated with the range of emotions running through them behind the cold exterior.

"You should punish her," Master recommended as he took the money from the man called Tristan. "That 81030...she's been here only two days, and already she's looked me in the eyes and responded without respect. Little bitch."

Yeah. Shame on me. I nearly smiled.

"Do not insult a Malfoy's property," Tristan said coolly. I decided I liked him.

I stepped back from Draco's embrace and walked straight up to him, getting up in his face and loving the knowledge that he couldn't hit me anymore.

"My name," I told him coldly, "is Hermione Anne Granger, and despite what you may think, I can hear you speaking about me. You were given a mouth that closes and ears that don't. What does that tell you about how you should be living?"

"I wish to leave this place now," Draco said behind me, before Master could answer.

"But my treasures---" Master objected.

"I wish to leave also," Tristan cut him off. "Well, Tom, we take our leave."

And with that, Draco pulled me from the room and led me outside, Tristan leading the way.

DRACO MALFOY

TRAVELING

I was proud of myself.

Never in my life had I ever wanted to kill someone so badly as I had just then, and yet I'd managed to leave Tom's home without committing murder.

I'd seen Hermione's face, and all I could think was, I want to find the person who did this to you, and rip them limb from limb.

She'd seen me, her face lighting up with recognition; she'd gotten hit and fallen to the floor.

And she'd actually tried to smile and said "hi" in that beautiful soft voice of hers that made you want to listen. When I'd gone to touch her cheek, however, she'd flinched away, afraid she'd end up on the floor again.

She actually thought I'd backhand her.

Oh, my poor Mya...

I led her into the carriage and managed to make it home without looking at her or touching her in any way that I wouldn't any other servant, but once we got back to my home I couldn't stop myself.

I led her into my room and sat her on my bed, soaking a piece of cloth and dabbing away the dried blood on her chin. She hissed as the cool water made contact with the wound, and I kissed her hand.

"Mya, oh Merlin, are you all right?" I asked over and over.

Finally she said, "Come sit with me," and patted the bed next to her. I sat next to her, my arms around her waist.

We sat in silence for awhile, until I sighed. She looked up at me, our faces close.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just---" I stopped, taking a breath. "I'm so sorry."

She stared at me. "What on earth are you talking about?" she asked. "You're the one who saved me."

"But you're hurt," I said. "He hit you. Oh, Mya, I'll never let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it. I couldn't bear it at Tom's house; I nearly decided I'd be willing to go to Azkaban if I could just kill him."

"How is what Mas---Tom did your fault?"

"I don't know...I just wish I could have rescued you sooner."

"You did save me," Hermione said quietly.

I looked at the floor and didn't respond.

"Hey," she said, her hand cupping my face and dragging my gaze back up to hers. "You still look like a knight to me. My knight in shining armor."

And then she kissed me. I felt a pain in my chest as my heart swelled with pure joy.

When she pulled away, I smiled. "Thank you," I told her.

We were silent for awhile, until Hermione spoke again.

"Where am I going to sleep tonight?" Hermione asked. "I'm just so tired."

"With me, of course."

She looked shocked. "I'm a slave! I can't just hop in people's beds with them!"

"Yes, you can."

She stared. "On your own head be it, then," she said, and took off her shoes. She unbraided her hair and laid down on the bed. She lay there, looking up at me, so beautiful with her hair spread out on the pillow. Then, slowly her eyes closed and her breathing evened out, and she was asleep.

I sat and watched her for a good hour, then realized the time and blew out the candle, taking off my own shoes and setting them next to hers.

Then I laid down next to her, facing her, and placed my hand gently on her stomach in a discreet display of possession.

In sleep-filled, automatic response, she shifted so that she was in my arms; she curled against me, her head beneath my chin. I kissed the top of her head.

I smiled into the darkness. It felt so right, having her in my arms, that I pulled her closer and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke with my arms around Hermione Granger. Sleepy, I shifted closer to the scent of woman and the scent of roses that she exuded. I kissed her neck, loving how soft her skin was, and trailed kisses up her jaw to her mouth.

She didn't wake up, just sleepily wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into her embrace. Enjoying how she pressed herself against me, I laid still until she woke.

Her eyes opened slowly, then widened when she realized that her whole body was pressed tightly against mine. She released me and rolled onto her back, flushing. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I replied, opening my arms to her. "Come back here."

She looked at me curiously for a moment, then curled back into my arms. I pulled her up against me and we lay there for awhile, just looking into each other's eyes. Our faces close, we just looked at one another for a long time. Finally she spoke, her hand resting on my cheek.

"Your eyes really are grey," she said. "I'd never seen grey eyes before, so I always assumed they must be light blue. But they are grey."

"I hate my eyes," I grumbled. They'd gotten too much teasing for me to enjoy their slate-like color anymore.

"You have beautiful eyes," she stated, her finger running down my jaw.

And, quite suddenly, I liked them again.

I traced her mouth with a finger. "I could say the same of yours."

She laughed. "They're brown. Brown is the most common eye color on the planet."

"Your eyes aren't brown," I contradicted. "They're almost...gold."

She smiled, but didn't reply to that. "Your eyes look like glass shards," she decided, her fingers now trailing over my face. "Grey with those white streaks in them. Almost like a broken mirror."

"You should write poetry," I told her, playing with her hair.

She laughed. "Poetry about your eyes? I'd rather draw them. You still owe me a sketch, by the way."

"I forgot about that," I admitted.

"Will you let me sketch you when we get back to Hogwarts?"

I looked into her eyes. "Of course," I replied. I'd have promised her the world if it meant she'd look at me with the same expression of adoration that she offered me now.

"Thank you," she replied, kissing me gently on the lips. She pulled away far too soon. "Don't you have anything to do today?"

"I wouldn't know," I replied, kissing her forehead. "I've 'lost my memory' again, apparently."

"Shouldn't you go find out what you should be doing?"

I sighed. "Probably. Damn."

"Damn what?"

I shrugged. "I like lying here and holding you, I guess."

That surprised her. She didn't say anything about it, but it was with raised eyebrows that she said, "Well, maybe you should find Tristan."

"He's my brother, did you know?" I asked.

"No...you don't have a brother in your time," she remarked.

"You don't have a sister, either," I pointed out, "And when you were a princess, you had two."

"True," she agreed.

"I've got a sister as well," I told her. "Her name's Katherine."

"Hmm," she said. "Isn't it interesting how we keep our names? In both times so far, our names have been the same. It almost makes you think that these were past lives of ours."

"But that would mean we're connected," I pointed out. "Even centuries before we were born, we knew each other."

Hermione grinned. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Very," I agreed.

She sat up, looking out the window. "Oh my god...Draco!"

"What? What's the matter?" I asked, sitting up to look over her shoulder.

It was back. The swirling grey and black cloud. Right in the center of the field.

"Already?" I asked blankly. "Not that I particularly liked being here, mind you, but..."

"It's moving faster, I guess," she replied.

"Well, get dressed," I replied drily. "And we'll go catch our time portal."

Five minutes later, we'd put on our shoes and were heading towards the portal.

We stood before it, neither of us wanting to stay and yet not wanting to lose sight of one another again.

She turned to me and took my hands in hers. "Whatever happens, we'll find each other," she said, a question in her voice.

I kissed her gently. "Of course," I replied.

And so, holding hands, we both stepped into the time portal, feeling the familiar spiral towards unconsciousness.

Just before everything went black, I whispered, "I love you."

I wasn't entirely sure she'd heard me---or that I was ready for her to.

HERMIONE GRANGER

LOCATION UNKNOWN

I opened my eyes groggily. Unlike the other two times I'd time-traveled, I didn't have a headache.

No, it was the rest of my body that ached. I felt tired...so tired.

There were voices not far away, but I couldn't open my eyes. I was too tired.

I drifted back into unconsciousness before I even knew where I was.

DRACO MALFOY

LOCATION UNKNOWN

More than anything, I decided, I wanted to go back to sleep.

But I forced my eyes open, remembering the promise I'd made to Hermione to find her.

And found myself right next to her. The problem?

We were both chained at the wrists and ankles to a wall.

But she's here with you, my brain reminded me. Sleep.

Who was I to disobey my brain?

HERMIONE GRANGER

LOCATION UNKNOWN

I woke up some hours later, I thought; the light beneath my eyelids wasn't half as glaring and bright as it had been. My neck and shoulders hurt like hell.

I opened my eyes cautiously, assuming that I was alone from the silence.

I was wrong. None other than Draco Malfoy was right next to me.

He was also chained to the wall.

It took me a full minute to realize that I was chained up, too. They had to have drugged me, whoever had chained me up like this---I could never remember being so tired or so disoriented in my life, and that was including the first day I woke up with a cat's face.

I looked over at Draco, who was just waking up as well. His hair had fallen over his eyes, giving him the look of a young boy waking up sleepily from a nap. He promptly shook his hair out of his eyes and looked at me.

"Good morning," I said, and my voice held the dry and rasping tone of a dehydrated person.

He smiled bitterly. "Good? Good would have been asleep in my bed at home. Where the hell are we?"

"No idea," I replied, watching him. All of a sudden, his eyes widened as he looked at me.

"Mya---you---"

"What?"

"Your hair," he said blankly.

I raised one eyebrow, tilting my head towards my hair to feel it.

"What about it?" I asked.

"It's---black," he said. "And it's all pinned up."

I got an idea. "Pinned up with what?"

He gave me a blank look, as if he couldn't believe I was asking about fashion at a time like this. "What do you mean, pinned up with what? There's a million little metal things in it, if that's what you're asking."

"Bobby pins!" I said delightedly, making sure my voice never got too loud.

"Bobby who?" Draco asked blankly.

"No—pins, bobby pins, they're things to hold your hair up. Here, hang on," I said, tilting my head towards my hand, which couldn't move very far while shackled to the wall. I felt around on my head until I located a bobby pin, then pulled it out. A shock of hair fell free of my hairstyle and swayed in front of my eyes.

It was black. I thought for a moment it might be dark brown, but it was black. Black like a raven. It startled me, but I had more important things to think about than my hair at the moment.

With some careful maneuvering, I managed to get the end of the bobby pin into the keyhole of one of the shackles. With a click, the shackle swung open, baring my wrist, bruised and raw.

"Hey Harry, was that you?" said a voice from the corridor. Quickly, I slid the bobby pin back into my hair and closed the shackle, but made sure not to let it lock again. I gestured to Draco to pretend to be asleep, then did the same.

I heard footsteps, then a muttered, "Huh. Still asleep." I heard more footsteps, this time heading away from the cell, muttering, "Can't believe I gotta waste my time watching a buncha burglars..."

I nearly laughed. Draco and I were here because we'd stolen something?

When I was sure the man was gone, I quickly freed myself completely, then helped Draco unlock his bonds. Then we stood silently.

Draco shook his head. "Great plan, but now what?" he whispered.

I went to the cell door and stuck my head out cautiously. There was a guard, sitting at a desk not ten feet away. I pulled back into the cell and reported this in a whisper.

He looked around. "The window," he said quietly, pointing at a tiny window above where we'd been chained.

I looked at it; winced. "It's small," I pointed out.

"Tight fit," he agreed. "But it's worth a shot."

I crossed the cell and opened it, praying it wouldn't creak.

It didn't.

But it only opened halfway. Draco looked crestfallen, but I held up a finger, then pointed to the hinges. "Half-pin barrel hinges," I informed him. "If I can slide it to the left, it'll come free."

After some shoving and a few anxious glances in the guard's direction, it came free. Draco climbed up, then reached a hand through to help me.

I was halfway out the window when I heard the shouts.

"Hey! Harry! They's gettin' away! Harry, where'd yeh go? Harry, they're escapin'!"

And then a moment later, a much deeper and more stern voice:

"Freeze! Put your hands were I can see 'em!"

I felt the cold metal of a gun in my back. I stopped moving.

"Draco," I whispered. "Run."

"No," he said, and tried to pull me up.

"Draco," I said quietly, sweetly. "I have a gun in my back. Run."

There was a flicker of fear in his slate eyes. "I won't leave you."

"Do it, Draco," I snapped, still quiet as the cop tried to pull me back into the cell. "If you don't leave, we'll both get caught. Find the portal, keep using it to get to Hogwarts. Tell Dumbledore. Go!"

"I'll wait for you," he replied. "Try and get out. I'll try and figure out a way to get in and save you."

"My knight in shining armor," I said with a smile.

And before he could answer, I was pulled back inside.

And came face-to-face with the cop called Harry.

He was good-looking in a rugged, tired kind of way. He could have used a shave. He was tall, at least a few inches taller than Draco, with a shock of rich black hair that fell into his green eyes. He was skinny in a way that seemed more unhealthy than weak.

"Harry?" I blurted without thinking.

The man before me raised his eyebrow at me.

"Well, look here, the girl's got ears."

Slight accent, I noticed, tilting my head as I listened.

"Yeah, I'm Harry," he continued. Scottish, maybe? "Any other observations?"

Your name is Harry James Potter, your favorite food is shepherd's pie, your parents were James and Lily Potter, maiden name Evans; you were born midnight of July 31st, your favorite color is black...

"None at all," I replied.

"Good." he took my arm and dragged me out of the cell, down a hallway into a room with a long conference table. An interrogation room. He slapped a pair of handcuffs on me and had me sit down, then placed a notepad and pencil on the table in front of the chair across from me.

"Now how about telling me your name?" he asked.

"You don't know it yet?" I asked. "How can I be in prison if you don't know my name?"

"Caught you red-handed robbing that house, little miss. Drugged you. This is our first chance at interrogation. Name?"

"Pansy Parkinson." I said the first name that came into my head.

"Pansy," he repeated. "The hell you're a pansy."

Somehow, I knew exactly what to say and when---like we were simply actors in a well-rehearsed play.

I grinned. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment," he replied, but I could see him struggling to hide a grin. "You were hard as hell to catch."

"That is a compliment," I answered. "It's a compliment to any criminal to tell them they're good at avoiding capture, no?"

"I suppose," he admitted grudgingly. "How about telling me what you were trying to steal?"

Somehow, I knew exactly what to say and when---like we were simply actors in a well-rehearsed play.

I grinned widely. "Not a chance, Sheriff."

He looked startled. "How did you know I'm the Sheriff?"

"Lucky guess," I replied. I had no idea where the information had come from.

"Harry, what do you want me to do with the forms for---oh."

I recognized the voice before I even saw the man. It was the voice I'd heard yelling for Harry when he'd discovered Draco and I escaping. And when I turned my head, I recognized the man as well.

"Neville," I said in surprise.

Both men looked completely unnerved.

"How did you---?" Neville asked. "Do I know you?"

"No," I replied, then added flippantly, "I'm psychic."

It was an old saying in my family. Whenever someone knew something they shouldn't have known and didn't want to admit to eavesdropping or rat anyone out for telling, we simply said "I'm psychic."

The moment I said it, however, I realized with a start that both men believed me.

"Psychic? Really?" Harry asked.

I smiled, playing the part of a confident criminal.

"Of course."

Neville's eyes narrowed. "What's my favorite color?"

"Red," I replied easily, thankful I knew the answer.

"What's my pet's name?"

"Trevor. He's a toad."

"Wow," Harry said.

"Wicked," Neville added. "More."

"What, I've got to jump through your hoops now?" I asked. "Just because I'm psychic, and you want me to prove it? Well, quid pro quo, gentlemen. You don't get something for nothing. Tell you what---one of you goes outside and gets my partner Draco. He's blond with grey eyes; he'll be standing against the wall near the window to our cell. Then you give us information---whatever information we ask for. I'll show more of my psychic abilities and give you my word not to steal again in exchange for information and release from prison."

Harry and Neville exchanged looks.

"Done," Harry said. "I'll go get him."

"Oh, he won't come with you," I told him. "He'll think it's a trap."

"I'll just say Pansy wants to see him," he told me.

I laughed. "You were right when you said I'm not a pansy. My name's Hermione Granger."

"A lie," he sighed.

"A white one," I pointed out.

"So I'll tell him Hermione wants to see him."

"No; tell him Mya does. That way he'll know it's from me."

"Mya?"

"Just a nickname," I assured him. "Go."

After Harry left, Neville looked at me in awe.

He wasn't really Neville, but the resemblance was close; he looked like Neville probably would if he gained twenty pounds, grew four inches, and didn't shave for a week. And, of course, aged about fifteen years.

"So is your partner psychic, too?" Neville asked.

I sat back in my chair, relaxing. I put my feet up, determined to keep the attitude light and friendly.

"That's his secret to tell," I replied.

Just then, Harry came in, Draco at his heels.
"Hello, Draco," I said, ultimately relaxed. "Join us, won't you?"

Draco grinned, catching on.

"Of course, Mya. I'm your knight in shining armor."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

The half-pin barrel hinges idea, of course, comes from Pirates of the Caribbean, one of my all-time favorite movies.

I stole the "quid pro quo" thing from Silence of the Lambs, though I shouldn't really need to note that since a common expression. The "You don't get something for nothing" part is from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. (Can you tell I love watching movies?)

Thanks for reading, and I'd really appreciate a review—good or bad. I apologize again for the ridiculously long wait!