Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter...or Hermione Granger...or Draco Malfoy. -breaks down into tears-

A/N: I know there's no excuse that would justify such a late and slow update, therefore I apologize sincerely. I hope you will forgive me because I brought the long waited character back into the story.

Awake

It was blackness in the beginning. Absolute darkness.

Then there was a blurry vision of a young girl, or maybe it was a woman already, running towards him. She pointed her wand at him. She said something and he replied. And then someone probed his mind….throbbing pain…and then it was a thankful blackness again.

He was probably dead, a wry voice in his mind whispered. Dying like the stupid boy that his father had always called him.

And Draco Malfoy would not allow that. His father no longer ruled his life. Not for a long time.

He struggled to open his eyes.

The whiteness of a familiar ceiling filled his eyes before the curls of a fat woman protruded then disappeared again.

"I don't…love you anymore."

The words rung in his head with an awful loudness and he had closed his eyes again. He really wished things were different because he didn't think he had ever stopped loving her. Not even when he joined the Dark Lord and swore to kill those that were impure…the scum of their world.

It was ironic, now that he thought about it; because Hermione was pure in his mind. Would always be, even with blood on her hands. He looked at his own hands. Bruised and bandaged as they may be, they still seemed clean. Like a pureblood's hand, the improvident son of Lucius Malfoy, who'd never left the deep recesses of his mind even after all these years and all his attempts, whispered maliciously in his mind. He grimaced. Because he knew, all of him (except that spoiled boy) in that programmed mind, that his hands were dirty. Unclean because of all the blood of innocent people and curses that had spilt from his hands…

And he had to wonder, what he must do now. Because waking up in this stark white room, felt like waking up for the first time after a comatose. He wasn't sure where he was in life anymore. He was no longer a servant of the Dark Lord…but he wasn't with Dumbledore either. He was more of a war criminal…which one side had not discovered, as he was no longer in the privy of Lord Voldemort's newest plans.

He needed to think. And his mind was not being very cooperative.

The door of his room was slid open with a precise 'swoosh' and 'click'; and the woman, whom he now identified as Madame Pomfrey, led Dumbledore and the rest in.

'Think, Draco Malfoy' his mind screamed, 'Think-'

She looked better than the last time he saw her. No blood, no scratches, although that determined look still remained. It somehow reminded him of a time where he had been in this hospital again and she'd come to visit him. Back then, it may have been decorum or love that made her come. But today, he was pretty sure that wasn't what drove her. The stare was steely and her mouth was a thin line that would've made Snape proud. Maybe she had gotten that from Snape during her apprenticeship.

Draco tried to focus on other people that entered the room but found himself too ensnared with the woman before him to do so.

"Malfoy." A voice, hardened by the same battles, broke through his trance. "You're awake."

"Clever of you to point that out, Potter." He replied snidely, almost an automatic respond due to the many years of animosity.

And as quick as a whip, he found himself at the point of a wand. Not Potter's. But Hermione's.

"Malfoy." She said coldly, probing the wand not so gently at the base of his neck ignoring the fat school nurse as she angrily berated her, "I don't think you're in any position to talk back."

He supposed he was expecting it, ever since the day they parted that, their relationship, if there was one beyond that point, would spiral down and became something like their earliest memories of Hogwarts. And when they first fought with the resolve to end one or the other's life, his guess was proven correct…it still hurt to see that one person who had pillared his life turned against him.

Draco tried to formulate a reply, befitted for their association now. But could find none because even though she'd moved on, he was still stuck in those days where they were in love.

"Hermione," Dumbledore's wiry fingers covered hers and slowly lifted her wand away from his chin. "Mr. Malfoy would be of no use to us if you injure him."

"I'm sorry, Professor." Hermione lowered her wand as well as her brown eyes and stepped back from the bed. She stepped back next to Potter, who still glared at him. Draco watched with a wringing feeling in his stomach that intensified as Potter's hand raised and rested on Hermione's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

He was about to make another snide remark when Dumbledore's colorful robes blocked his view of two of the Golden Trio. Draco pulled an impassive expression and looked at his Old Headmaster.

"Draco," Professor Dumbledore greeted an eerie twinkle in his eyes. "It's good to see you again."

It was at that moment that his mind truly started racing.

"I'm not sure if I can say the same." He chose his words carefully. Lying in a bed, and staring up at the elderly professor made him feel like a school boy again.

"Honest as always, Draco." Professor Dumbledore remarked casually.

"It's a trait of the Malfoys-" He replied, trying to be casual as possible even though he was deep in the 'den' of the enemy.

"I would suppose cocky bastards are a family thing too." Potter's voice cut in acidly.

"Harry." Dumbledore's voice chided stiffly before he turned back to him. "Draco, I believe you know what we want from you. It would be nice if you cooperate."

Draco's mind immediately focused Dumbledore's words. Mind already spinning for possible things to allow him to have a stake in his hands, he readily read into the implications Dumbledore made.

The Order wanted information. And they were going to do anything for it.

Draco had information only privy only to the innermost circle. Voldemort hadn't seen to it to erase his memory, simply assuming that he was going to bleed to death after the various curses and cuts carved onto Dark Mark as a symbol of his failure to him.

"I'll strike you a deal."

Dumbledore looked at him impassively, clearly considering his words. Potter scowled and Hermione did not look impressed. But they both remained silent as Dumbledore opened his mouth.

"What kind of deal are we looking at?"

"I have information known only to those closest to the Dark Lord. I will trade them for a pardon and another go at life if the Dark Lord is defeated."

There was a period of silence before Potter said icily, "That is quite a lot you're asking, Malfoy. Do you even understand the situation you're in?"

Draco glared at him, "I understand it very well. I didn't realize I was talking to you Potter."

"Mal-" Potter started.

"Sir," Hermione's voice rang above Potter's. "Can we have a private word?"

The elderly professor looked at her and nodded. They moved to a far corner of the room and turned their backs to him. He found himself locked in a death glare with Potter as he strained to hear what Hermione and Dumbledore was talking about.

They came back without him catching a single word of the conversation. He looked suspiciously between them, and they both looked back at him- Dumbledore's gaze was as before sparkling with an unknown intellect and Hermione's strangely and scarily passive.

"The Order is willing to consider this deal. As soon as it's deemed safe to move you, we will have you dispatched to elsewhere."

He nodded, agreeing to the conditions that were offered him. After all, there was no other choice. He watched Dumbledore turned to leave, giving him a polite nod. Potter followed afterwards, leaving with snide words about what life a murderer could have. Hermione watched them with him.

When the two men were gone, he turned to her. She still looked away from him. And to him, it was strangely like a rejection. Hermione would've met his eyes fearlessly before. She didn't today.

"You've changed." He remarked quietly.

And she looked at him suddenly, as if she had just snapped out of her thoughts. There was a moment of vulnerability but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a stony regard.

"And you haven't."

"Hermione," he said carefully, wary not to provoke her. "I meant what I said just then."

"Malfoy, I don't care."

Hermione whirled away and walked away from his bed, not even turning around for a look to make sure every ward was secured. And something about the unemotional woman before him seemed to snap a cord on his tongue.

"You should." He called after her retreating back. "I don't go back on my words."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this update. The next update wouild be at another undefined time. I must say that it's a horrible thing when inspiration is low and the people who used to give you the push are not around. I'm really sorry about that; I really want to complete the story too. Please review?

P.S. Thanks, monkeystarz, for giving me the shove I needed to get this one out.