Harry leant against the empty frame of the entrance to Hermione's small room and watched as she pulled the dirty shirt from her lithe frame – in war you sleep in uniform, the enemy like ruining your sleep. Her back was to him and as her milky skin was revealed a deep scar across her right shoulder blade was visible.
"If I didn't know better Harry, I'd say you were hoping for a free show." There was light amusement in her voice despite everything as she pulled a clean shirt on and tucked it into her combat trousers. Ignoring the comment he remained in place as she pulled her hair back into a bun, a few strands slipping free despite her best efforts. "Well?"
"Malfoy's awake." He watched her face closely for the reaction. He could have sworn he saw excitement mingle with the concern that was immediately visible. "I said I'd pass the message on. And told them to stop gossiping."
Hermione nodded and pulled on her jacket, fumbling in her haste as she tried to do up the countless buttons. "He's fine. Tired and obviously he hasn't spoken much yet. But he's fine." Harry stepped forward and brushed her hands aside, quickly fastening the buttons with quick and nimble fingers.
"I…" She moved to speak but didn't quite know what to say, Harry leant down and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
"Go to him." Harry nodded and walked out of the bare room which housed only a small bed and a trunk where Hermione's belongings were kept, a piece of dirty glass on the stone mantelpiece served as a mirror.
As she entered the field hospital she noticed that a fair few healers were surrounding the bed she'd left Draco, they all saluted her as she approached. "Good morning ma'am."
"Leave…" A few eyebrows were raised but no questions were asked, war had changed Hermione Granger. Gone was the innocent and naïve girl, in her place stood a calculating, hard, bitter and ruthless young woman. Her eyes held the ghosts of her past, the friends she had lost, the loved ones gone forever, she rarely showed emotion in public anymore. No one saw the silent tears she cried. Five years ago her parents had been murdered by faceless cowardly Death Eaters, and it was said that part of Hermione had died that day. There were questions that would never, could never be answered. Proud smiles that would never greet her again.
Hermione turned to the bed to see a pair of haunted grey eyes staring up at her. "How long have I been here?"
She checked her watch. "About eight hours. How are you feeling?"
"Exhausted."
"Why are you…" Draco cut her off as he lifted a limp hand and held a finger to her cold lips. He reached into the pocket of his robe which lay, clean and folded, next to his bed. Hermione gasped; in his hand lay the locket, the final Horcrux.
"I believe you were looking for this?" The weak smirk on his face said it all. Draco Malfoy had finally achieved something worthwhile.
"Where did you…" Again the finger met her lips and once again Draco was surprised by her temperature, the Phoenix uniforms had always looked warm. Or did the cold run deeper than her veins?
"I have my contacts." He managed a faint smile before his eyes closed in much needed sleep. A single tear slipped down Hermione's cheek as she reached for the seemingly innocuous locket and departed to find Harry and the rest of the senior command immediately.
"He will have his reasons for doing this of course." A general murmur of consent was heard around the table of high ranking Phoenix officers and Hermione held her head in her hands.
"Don't you understand…" She groaned. "He's not Lucius. He's different. He has brought us the last piece of the puzzle…"
"Forgive me Colonel Granger; I didn't know you cared about the boy." A chuckle rang around the room and Hermione rose, sending her chair flying to the floor such was her haste.
"He's more of a man then any of you will ever be." She spat the words out into the silence. "He's gone against everything he has ever known or been taught to help us, and if you can't accept that by way of apology then I'm not sure I can stand to fight with people like you."
She fled the room and was halfway across the fort before Harry could reach her. He grasped her wrist, knocking an old wound and she howled in pain as he pulled her back. "Hermione!" She glared up at him, eyes glistening with tears in the cold afternoon light. Draco had not awoken since they had spoken the previous day, and she had felt slightly lost amidst the quiet celebratory atmosphere in the fort.
"Don't Harry, I know you agree with them…" She shook her arm free from his grasp and shot him an accusatory glance as she nursed the wound.
"I don't…look Hermione, you know what they're like – narrow minded, they didn't understand Snape and they don't want to try and comprehend why Lucius Malfoy's son and heir has brought us the key to Voldemort's downfall."
Hermione nodded but turned away. "When's Ron due back?" Their best friend was away on a mission, scouting out Death Eater bases – it wasn't particularly dangerous, nothing Ron couldn't handle but it was important and with the locket secure it was becoming increasingly vital that they kept tabs on the Dark Lord and his followers.
"A few days I think. It all depends. But, Hermione he's not going to like Malfoy being around anymore than them…" He jerked his head towards the command room and Hermione clenched her jaw.
"What makes you think I like it anymore than the rest of you?"