Chapter: The Puzzle

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"Convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies."

-- Friedrich Nietzsche

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He was staring at her. Trying to seize her eyes with his, trying to tell her something.

She was having none of it. After the first glimpse, the first shock of gray, she dropped here eyes completely and stared at her lap for the remainder of the trial.

Betrayal was stark in her heart, a sharp pain below her left breast.

His voice sounded just as she remembered.

-

"Mr. Malfoy, you were present at the scene of Albus Dumbledore's death?"

"Yes." A hoarse, strained sound.

"Under what circumstances?"

"Voldemort had threatened the death of my mother if I did not comply to his wishes and attempt to devise a way for his Death Eaters to enter the castle. He wanted me to kill Dumbledore."

This was not new information for anyone in the court, and there was no shock. He had his trial already, years before.

"And Mr. Snape assisted you in this?"

"No. I refused to let him."

"He helped you in no way whatsoever?"

"He wanted to help in order to save my life. He was sure that without his assistance I would die, an assumption that was likely correct. He did help me in an indirect manner, however, in that he performed the Unbreakable Vow with my late mother."

"And what were the conditions of this vow?"

"That he would protect me and complete my task if I was unable to do so. In Azkaban, Mr. Snape's response to my question as to why he performed the Unbreakable Vow was that he needed to 'keep up the arrangement.' I can only guess that this signifies his position as a spy for the Order of the Pheonix, and that—"

Hermione looked up, shock coloring her features. The crowd was mumbling, a dull roar that indicated their astonishment. Draco looked pale and determined, his lips set in a thin line of tension and his eyes connected solidly with hers. She cautioned a raised eyebrow, and he said something with his eyes that made her heart clench.

I'm on your side.

And he looked beautiful to her, then.

The attorney's voice rushed forwards, eliminating further speculation, his tone suggestive of his surprise. "Mr. Malfoy, did you or did you not witness Mr Snape kill the late Albus Dumbledore with the Avada Kedavra curse?"

She was watching now.

"Yes. Dumbledore was very weak. I later learned that his recent consumption of Voldemort's protective potion was the reason for his destabilized state. I could not raise my wand against him, and the other Death Eaters rushed in to the Astronomy Tower. Snape arrived, and Dumbledore looked at Snape and begged for something—at the time I knew not what. Snape, an entirely grim expression on his face devoid of any triumph, stepped forward and killed the late Headmaster. Throughout our brief time on the run, Snape made various allusions to an agreement he had had with Dumbledore concerning his position as a double agent of sorts, knowing that I could not and would not reveal his secret to Voldemort. I was far too indebted to him."

Draco placed particular emphasis on this last phrase, and his eyes left hers to gaze steadily at those of the attorney, a brief smirk lighting across his features. The attorney all but sputtered, and Draco continued quickly lest he attempt to interrupt him.

"This agreement, from what I gathered, was highly perilous. I began to make sense of it after my visit one year ago to Azkaban to hear Snape's response to both Miss Granger's and my questions. Undoubtedly, Dumbledore knew of Snape's Unbreakable Vow, which I believe he had performed in order to keep up all appearances of loyalty to Voldemort in front of my mother and Bellatrix Lestrange. The information Snape was providing to the Order was invaluable, and to loose his position as a spy would cost many lives and perhaps would have cost the war. It is my belief that Dumbledore told Snape—"

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"—that if a situation should arise in which it was his life or Snape's, that Snape should kill him—"

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"—as a sacrifice to the cause. Dumbledore gave himself so that the light could win. I have reasonable suspicion that throughout the war, and for the time I accompanied him, Snape continued to provide information to the Order anonymously. And I know, I know that it was this information that allowed the Order to gain the upper hand during the Last Battle."

"Mr. Malfoy, that is quite enough," hastened the attorney, who appeared completely undone. His face was an unflattering shade of puce, and he glared at Draco as if he would very much like to devalue his claims through violence or worse. Draco stared coolly back. Hermione, through her shock, had the acute feeling that Draco had told him he would relate his account of Snape's history in an entirely different manner than he had just done. Her friends were silent beside her. Ginny squeezed her arm hard enough to hurt.

Draco continued, an impressive nonchalance drawling his voice. "Is there anything else you wish to ask of me?"

The attorney stammered, obviously aware that he had just lost his case. "N-No."

"Very well." Draco stepped down from the stand.

Hermione watched him quietly.

-

The remainder of the trial passed without a hitch. Evidence was supported, and Snape's account of his part in the war was so remarkably similar to Draco's that Hermione could not help admiring the young wizard for his brilliant powers of deduction.

In the end, Snape had his freedom. The look she shared with him when the final verdict was given was thanks enough; his eyes said it all.

-

She waited for him after everyone else had left. He emerged from the courtroom last, his strides long and sturdy. He stopped when he saw her, huddled against a corner and watching him while he didn't know it.

She spoke first. "Thank you, Draco." It came out a near whisper. "You can't know what that meant to me."

"You're welcome."

She started immediately and her eyes jumped to his, searching for a reason for his sudden icy tone, nearly hostile in a way that made her skin tremble with upheaval. She let the hurt radiate from her eyes and saw his face crack, that white mask shift for barely a moment to reveal something frightening underneath, before he closed off again.

"Why?" She asked as she moved towards him, stopping five feet or an entire universe away from him.

"I was indebted to Severus. You know that." The same cold voice, the same empty eyes.

Hermione didn't know what to say because she couldn't help but feel a perverse sort of disappointment. They stood in silence, Draco making no move to leave. He looked at her steadily and she stared back.

I'm just as strong as you.

"You came back for this, then? Blaise and Vulpe had heard that you were in Italy," she finally said, her voice cautious in the face of this new person who she didn't really know.

He nodded. "The lawyer came looking for me."

"And you told him you would besmirch Snape's name so that you could get into the courtroom and say what really happened?"

He seemed to draw a deep breath, something stabilizing, before his lip curled up in a sneer and Hermione wanted to shrink away. "Once again, Granger, your intellect astounds."

Sarcasm.

Enough.

"Stop it. Stop it, Draco," she said, her voice very cold and very strong. "I don't see you for a year and this is how you greet me?"

He looked taken aback for a moment, for a glimpse of time, and then he put his mask back in place. "What do you want?" He stepped closer to her, his tone rising in volume until he was shouting at her, roaring to her face. "What do you want from me, Granger? I can't do this. Get away from me and leave me the fuck alone."

She didn't move, even as he stared her down and yelled at her. "I'm not moving, but you're perfectly welcome to go," she said, her voice monotone and hiding her confusion and distress. With a wide sweep of her arm she motioned towards the door.

He stared at her for what could have been several seconds or several days. She swallowed, fighting the urge to cower and back down, away from him.

"Fuck this, and fuck you. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this." He was murmuring to the silence now, his eyes tight on hers and making all of the room slant except for him.

She couldn't think of anything to say to that, and she stayed completely stone while he advanced towards her. He suddenly seemed very large, and she would have stepped back as he neared her if she could have moved her legs. He stopped directly in front of her and leaned close, leaned to that the sides of their faces almost touched. She heard him inhale and shudder out. Again and again. She felt his breath on her neck like it was his hands and trembled.

He reached up, his hand hovering above her, above the sloped curve where her throat met her shoulders. He didn't touch and she sensed him all over as her body anticipated contact that never came.

She couldn't breath.

Finally he hissed something into her ear with a voice that sounded like it was crumbling. "I don't want to see you…ever again."

Then he left, and she couldn't watch.

-

She told no one and suffered alone. She now had nothing to keep her mind off what was hurting her and began to miss meals again. She went to the apothecary and bought more powdered moonstone.

She didn't want to dream anymore, and the potion helped.

Soon she found she could not sleep more than several hours without it.

Her friends remarked casually how in the past month, since Snape's trial, she had begun to loose her coloring. Her face paled except for the permanent darkness beneath her eyes. The vibrancy that made her Hermione Granger seemed to dissolve. Harry finally asked her, took her by the arm and sat her on the toilet in his gleaming bathroom and told her that she had to tell him what was wrong or he was going to kidnap her and make her tell him.

She said she was working on S.P.E.W. again and sometimes forgot to sleep. It was nothing to worry about, she said.

He let her alone after that, after she promised that she would not forget anymore.

She lost weight and had to buy new clothes. She went to Diagon Alley but couldn't handle the bright and the noise and the people.

She thought she could get through it, but while she was carrying her bag of new robes out onto the cobbled streets they began to spin, and she felt her legs give beneath her.

Suddenly everyone was around her. They thought she was ill, they thought she was dying. She tried to tell them that she was fine, she just needed a minute of rest because she was so tired. Someone lifted her head and tipped water down her throat.

And then she heard a familiar voice.

"Fuck, Granger."

He was leaning over her. She could see the outline of his face but it was fuzzed like she was looking through a poorly made pane of glass. She tried to get up.

I don't want to see you ever again.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself." He pushed her back down. "Fuck!" He said again, scrubbing a hand over his face. She started to cry, then, even though she had no real reason to. There was nothing wrong with her.

She could hear people asking him how he knew her, who she was. She could hear him answering, telling them that he would take her somewhere safe where she could rest.

She couldn't hear anything else.

She felt his arms around her back and thighs, and then the whorl of apparation.

-

Hermione woke in a bed that was not her own. Creaking one eye open, she saw nothing but gray ceiling.

She did not have gray ceilings in her flat.

She sat up, and she instantly knew where she was.

She kicked back the thick coverlet, so unlike her own, and searched for her shoes. They were at the foot of the bed and she put them on. She found her bag hanging on the bed stand and went out the door. She moved quickly and silently down the curving staircase, and searched in vain for the front door for several minutes, her nerves on end and her senses screaming.

I can't do this.

She went down one hallway and then the next. She passed room after room. She finally neared the door, a massive oak obstacle, when his voice called out to her.

"Hermione, let me explain."

She turned around slowly and he was there. She waited for him to begin.

-

"He who has a strong enough why can bear almost any how."

-- Friedrich Nietzsche

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Author's Note: Two chapters in two days! I am sooo good. I hope this chapter didn't suffer for it.

Not much to say. Draco is an enigma, as always. And, as always, all will be revealed in the end. Hermione goes into a state of severe depression, but what else is knew?

Please noticed the stylistic changes in this chapter as compared to the last. There is a reason, and it mostly has to do with Hermione's emotional state. I am inconsistent for a reason, for once!

Enjoy the luxury of having an update in so short a time; it likely won't happen again for a long time. This weekend was one of rare relaxation.

Another thing: This story is drawing to a close. At the most, three chapters are left. More likely two.

I love you all, and tell me, please tell me what you think. I adore hearing from all of you.