I posted a little later this week because this chapter wasn't ready in time, but hey, thank you if you're here today to read it! I can't say this enough, but I'm glad to repeat it as long as I can : enchanted4life and Wise_Owl26, thank you for your work on this one even though you had a busy week and your own life to handle! My dear Angeline, I can't believe how much ideas we threw around for this one and I'm glad we came up with this result. Thank you for assisting me every step of the way. You rock, seriously.

Flashback

It was Samuel Granger's nineteenth birthday. For the occasion, his parents had planned a big family dinner where uncles, aunts and muggle cousins were gathered. Hermione was very proud of the present she was going to give him. She had found a beautiful Muggle watch at a local jeweller's. It was silver, shiny, with Roman numerals. She was sure her brother would love it. Her parents had of course agreed to loan her money.

Sam would be home from work soon and the whole family was waiting in the large living room. A cake was sitting on the kitchen table; the cutlery was set.

When the lock clicked, the family stood up. Sam finally entered the house and saw his entire family shouting a synchronized "Happy Birthday! ". Smiling, the tall dark-haired man went from hug to hug, from kiss to pat on the shoulder. Hermione hugged him tightly and he laughed in return.

The family meal was cheerful and the topics of conversation centred on the birthday boy. There was laughter and compliments flowed. A bottle of champagne was even opened for the occasion. Sam cut the cake and as clumsy as he was, he ended up with the biggest slice. The flashes of the muggle cameras shone through the rooms.

Once the family was gathered in the living room, Hermione handed her gift to her brother. The guests fell silent and watched with a smile on their faces as the 'sweet little sister' gave her brother a present. Sam tore open tore the wrapping paper off the box and opened the case. The light reflecting on the watch's face lit up his bright eyes. His gaze moved through different emotions; surprised, soft, moved. His mouth opened, closed, opened, then closed again. Finally, he laughed, his eyes a little misty.

"Come and hug me, you!" he smiled and opened his arms.

Hermione laughed and complied. Her big brother hugged her tightly, thanking her deeply. "I love it, it's beautiful, Herm!"

"I knew you'd like it! I'm so glad!"

He put the watch on his wrist and looked at the effect from several angles. "It's a classy watch!" he admitted.

The brunette was very pleased to see her brother so happy. They were like magnets. When Sam was happy, Hermione felt comfortable. When her brother's mood was tainted with tension and sadness, the Gryffindor's behaviour became gloomy. She didn't know why she had such a strong bond with her brother, but she wished she never had to part with him.

Hermione's fist was clenched against the watch, her knuckles white. It wasn't tears that wanted to come out of her, but storms. DM. How could she have allowed herself to be so blind? After all, why was she surprised that a former Death Eater could do such a thing? She had the sudden urge to burst out laughing under the weight of the stupidity she was accusing herself of.

The Gryffindor was running towards Hogwarts, her vision now blurred by a red veil of rage, confusion and betrayal. Never before had she felt the need to break something of his so badly. She violently pushed open the large castle doors; they almost smashed against the walls. A few students were still sitting in the Great Hall, finishing their dinner. She fucking hoped he had already gone upstairs...

She snapped her password before storming into the room, removed her beanie and scarf, and drew her wand.

"Malfoy!" she shouted.

The Slytherin was in his room, putting his clothes away in his wardrobe, and got startled. He hadn't seen Granger since the incident in Potions class and now she was coming back, hours later, like a fury. Her tone was hysterical. Dropping his clothes, he walked towards their common room and came face to face with the brunette, a few feet away, pointing her wand at him. He had never seen her face so distorted with anger. She was red and her eyes were wide with rage.

"How could you do this to him?" she shouted.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She advanced dangerously towards him, tightening her grip on her wand. Draco held up both palms in defense.

"Don't play this game!" she continued. "You know it!"

"No, I fucking don't!"

"YES, YOU DO! How could you?"

"Granger, I have no—"

"Everte statum!"

Draco was propelled backwards and crashed into the living room wall. He had no idea what was going on. Holding back a growl of rage, he got to his feet. He didn't have his wand, but even if he did, he didn't want to duel with her. Hermione's eyes were clouded with tears that didn't flow.

"I trusted you!" she slowly approached her partner. The hand that held her wand still pointing at him began to tremble. "I FINALLY TRUSTED YOU!"

Draco clenched his jaw and lunged at her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her wand out, throwing it across the room. Then he pivoted and slammed her against the wall where he had just collided, locking her wrists in his hands.

"What's wrong?" he blurted out, his voice distorted by anger. "What have I fucking done?"

"You know!"

"I DON'T!"

"YOU STOLE IT!" she screamed, trying to free herself.

Tears were streaming down her face, but she wasn't sobbing. The Slytherin examined her face next to his. Crazy brown curls framed her face and some stuck against her temples. Her cheeks were red from the mixture of the cold wind outside and her wrath. Her eyes were wet and clouded with betrayal and hurt. She had the face of one who had just been robbed of her most precious treasure. She had said "stole".

After a few seconds, Draco finally understood what she was talking about. "Are you talking about the fucking watch?" he spat, without releasing her.

"I saw it with my own eyes, Malfoy! In the register, on July 16th, you signed that you sold it!"

"That's rubbish!"

"IT'S YOU! THE MAN WAS BLOND! AND IT SAID 'D.M.'! That's you! It's fucking you! How could you do this to him? To me? You let me think all this time that you were interested when it WAS YOU!"

Draco's grip loosened as a bitter feeling washed over him like an icy wave. "You're not the brightest witch of your age, are you?"

She stared at him in confusion, but still with a vengeance.

"My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy!" he exclaimed. "DLM!" He released her, almost disdainfully, and stepped back. Without waiting, he rushed to his room, rummaging through his desk for the parchment he wanted. When he found it, he came back to Granger, still against the wall, and slapped the scroll on her.

He stood right in front of her. "It's official on all my documents!" he steamed. "I can't sign anything official without those fucking three letters! LOOK!"

Hands shaking, silent at last, the Lioness looked down at the parchment. It was the same letter she had received over the summer congratulating her on her position as Head Girl, only it was his.

DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY

Head Boy for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

8th year

Overwhelming shame and intense relief fell on Hermione simultaneously, and she dropped the letter, which slid to her feet. Her heart was pounding.

Draco, still bewildered by this accusation she had subjected him to, didn't wait for her apologies. "May I also add to my defence that I was on TRIAL on July 16th! The trial that YOU missed!" He couldn't believe that he was bringing up again the fact that she missed his trial.

He quickly shoved this thought at the back of his mind and continued. "And fuck, Hermione! The number of Death Eaters who could have done it!"

Hermione's lips parted. "Done what?"

"Killed him!"

"But I was talking about the theft…"

"Still! I'm not the only bad guys existing in the whole fucking world! There are thousands of psychopaths, wizards and muggles combined, who could have done it! Not to mention Mackie!"

"Mackie?" huffed Hermione. It was the first time she was hearing that name.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment. He had spoken to fast and without thinking. It had been a while since he had thought last about Mackie.

"Forget it," he mumbled.

"No! Tell me who is he?"

"I don't know his last name or first name. That's just how Voldemort used to call him."

"He's a Death Eater?"

"Was."

"So he's dead?"

"I…" Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't fucking know! He hasn't been very active since the Battle. So yeah. I bet he's dead now."

"But… who was he?"

"Mackie was renowned between the Death Eater circle, but nobody really knew who he killed… Just that he killed Muggles and blood traitors. His name was almost as feared as Voldemort's. He was a faithful servant, cruel and savage."

"A murder that occurred in the Muggle world could have been committed by this… Death Eater or by any other muggle serial killer," remarked Hermione.

"Exactly," Draco snapped. "So why were you so quick to accuse me?"

She bowed her head and hid her face in her hands, the blood pounding against her temples. And slowly, very slowly, she leaned forward until her head rested against his chest.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked. "I'm so sorry... You're right. You're absolutely right. I was just upset."

Unable to control the storm of emotions she was experiencing, she wrapped her arms around Draco's waist and pressed herself against him a little more, still repeating her apology. His wilderness and cotton smell enveloped her like a gentle embrace that soothed her.

Unable to control the storm of emotions she was experiencing, she wrapped her arms around Draco's waist and pressed herself against him a little more, still repeating her apology. His wilderness and cotton smell enveloped her like a gentle embrace that soothed her.

The Slytherin tensed and stood still, his head filled with the Gryffindor's accusations. He wasn't a fool, he realized that 'D.M.' would have caused anyone to have doubts, but he felt... disappointed that the Lioness had made such a quick and easy judgment of him. The bitter feeling he had been feeling for several minutes cleared up. He felt betrayed by her. After all he had tried to prove to her, she was still convinced that he had been and could be so evil.

Hermione continued to cry silently against him, still mumbling her apologies. He could feel her trembling, and he found himself wanting to stop her fragile body from shaking any more. Awkwardly, he placed a hand on the brunette's back and rubbed it lightly. Granger tightened her hold on him. He could smell the floral scent of her hair and the slimness of her waist as his hand reached out. Closing his eyes, he took a few breaths to control his thoughts as he detailed many things about her. Almost imperceptibly, he tilted his head so that he could brush her head with his cheek and soak up all her scent.

"I trust you..." she whispered.

The Slytherin doubted it, but he didn't respond. Ignoring his own sense of betrayal, he sighed. "Mistakes happen."

Slowly, he broke away from this modest embrace and they stared at each other. Hermione, suddenly realising how forthcoming she had just been, hid her embarrassment.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," she murmured as if to herself. "I didn't realise..."

"Just like Hermione Jean Granger."

The Gryffindor stammered and widened her eyes in surprise. Her name, her full name, sounded like honey through the barrier of his lips. "You... You know my middle name?"

Draco swore inwardly, but quickly relaxed. He shrugged his shoulders in a deliberate gesture of indifference. "Yeah, I do."

Slowly, Hermione reached into her coat pocket and pulled out Samuel's watch, which she had paid for. She handed it to her partner without saying a word. He took it gently and examined it, as if he hoped to read some answers.

"Nice watch," he said.

Draco realised that he had just been fascinated by a Muggle object. He frowned in surprise, but didn't try to resist or begin to list any flaws. He remembered Hermione's words, almost a week ago, telling him to stop fighting it. So, not knowing why he was unconsciously obeying her, he allowed his thoughts and opinions to exist, even if they were uncomfortable and new.

"DM," Hermione repeated thoughtfully. "DM... I don't know any blonde DM…"

"Granger, think about it. We have one more piece of information. It's probably not his killer, but most likely his thief."

"It could be anyone!"

"Yeah, but think about it logically. You don't know anyone who is connected in any way, however insignificant, to your brother, with these initials? Someone from the Ministry?"

Hermione scratched the back of her neck and sank into a chair at the table. "DM," she repeated to herself. "DM..."

Draco set the watch down in front of her. "If you don't, forget about the link to your brother. Anyone who's connected to the Granger name? An acquaintance? A friend of your parents?"

"OH MY GOD," Hermione gasped, lifting her head. "DUNCAN!"

The Slytherin raised his eyebrows. "Your ex-wanker?"

"Duncan MacMiller!" She ignored him. "How could I have completely forgotten about him?"

"To be honest, he's quite forgettable looking."

"Duncan is the only person connected in any way to my family who has those initials. But... it's Duncan, he's my ex-boyfriend. And he's notblonde. I don't see the connection or how or why he—"

"It's worth checking. People change appearances."

Hermione swallowed and massaged her eyes with her fingers. "But now that we're mentioning it, I remember him making little comments about my brother sometimes," she muttered.

"Do I get to know the story or do I have to wait?" Draco asked, gripping the back of a chair, leaning towards the table.

The brunette stared at him for a moment and swallowed. In the space of a few minutes, she had proven to him that she didn't trust him, before proceeding to tell him otherwise. The truth was that she did trust him, but only when he was with her. She had no idea what he could do to others. Brushing aside the thrill of the strange hug they had shared, she sighed.

"It's not really complicated. In my fifth year, I started dating Duncan. It was his last year. Samuel had finished the year before. And Angela was also in seventh year, like—"

"Who's that?"

"Angela? Sam's girlfriend."

"I thought we were talking about you and Duncan. Why are Angela and Sam popping up?"

Hermione glared at him. "You wanted the story, here it is! I'm just stating the facts, so that you'll have as much information as possible, and won't come at me with a thousand and one questions when you don't understand anything! Can I continue?"

Draco rolled his eyes, waved his hand sarcastically at her to get her to resume, and picked the watch back up.

"Towards the end of the year," she continued, "he started to get a bit weird. He would sometimes ask me questions about my brother. He became a bit more... glum as the year went on. I'd like to think it was because of Umbridge's regime."

She paused and examined her partner, as if to read some kind of emotion on his face. They both remembered well that Draco had been part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad and sought to stop Dumbledore's Army. But Draco said nothing.

"Anyway," Hermione went on, "he dumped me at the end of the year. The same day we were taking the train back home. I kept writing to him for a while..."

Draco held back a sarcastic laugh, not at all surprised by this behaviour.

"...because I was worried about him, but I never got a reply. So I finally stopped, and I haven't heard from him since. I don't even know where he works. I don't even know where he is at all."

"Two questions. First, what kind of questions was he asking you about your brother? Second, I would have thought that you would have ended up either with Weasley or Potter?"

"Well, I didn't end up with Duncan either, did I?" Hermione snarled. She didn't like it when people started intruding on her relationships, present or future.

"I can understand that," Draco said. "He really was an idiot. That's all I remember."

"Anyway, as for the questions, I don't remember exactly, but it was a bit about what my brother was doing. Where he worked, in which department, how long he had been seeing Angela. Personal questions, you know..."

"And you don't think he was just asking you because... you were together, and he wanted to know his future brother-in-law?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously, alarmed at the marriage reference Draco had just made. She'd never thought of that with Duncan. "No," she said, "it wasn't a casual interest. It felt like an odd curiosity, a bit sick."

"And it never creeped you out?"

"I said he got all weird at the end of the year, didn't I? Yes. He creeped me out."

"But he's the one who broke up with you?"

The brunette swallowed and nodded, without saying a word. The Slytherin remained silent too, and went back to fiddling with the watch between his fingers, fascinated, and deep in thought.

"It's worth checking out," he finally said, looking up at his partner. "Maybe he's been planning this theft for ages and was asking you these questions just to... make it happen."

Hermione suppressed a shiver of discomfort but nodded. "You know Blaise will want to know, don't you? He's obsessed with this story."

"I know. Because of his mum. Besides, I have to tell Harry, Ron and Ginny about it too."

Draco frowned and his fingers tightened on the watch for a few seconds. He wasn't happy about the idea of a bunch of people he didn't particularly like sticking their noses into this already complicated story. Even though he expected nothing less, he didn't like the idea of sharing her with them. She had already had seven years with them. Why couldn't he have just one year with her?

"Well," he grumbled as neutrally as possible, "you've already got your own little squad, haven't you?"

"I thought it would be a good idea to get everyone together and discuss it. Make a game plan."

"Why would you do that? I don't speak for your buddies who follow you around like sheep, but you assume that suddenly I'm part of your team and we're going to solve the case side by side?"

Hermione's jaw tightened. He's doing it again.

"Are you?" she spoke calmly. "On my team, I mean. Do you wanna help? Do you want to find out what's happening?"

Draco bit his tongue. She had him figured out. She knew perfectly well that he hated being kept out and not being told. He had a decision to make, and he knew that whatever it was, it would be irreversible. There, at that moment, sitting in their common room, he knew that this was the decisive moment to decide where he belonged.

"Yes," he said. "I want to understand. I want to help you understand. I'm on your side, and Blaise's, but not theirs!"

Hermione smiled, with a pleasant soft feeling caressing her lower abdomen. Your side. Every personal pronoun he uttered, you and your, caused her a slight excitement. Possession sounded tender on his lips.

"If you're on my side, you're automatically on theirs."

"I'm not their friend, Granger!"

"So you're mine?"

Hers, Draco thought with a hint of warmth that lit up in his chest and titillated him gently. Hearing her say 'mine' when she was talking about him made him feel really good. Her friend? Did spending time with someone often make them a friend? He didn't know what to say, and he was losing control of the discussion.

Hermione almost regretted asking him the question, but Draco answered. "I don't know," he said honestly.

The Lioness nodded. "I know you don't. And that's okay. You'll find out eventually. All I meant was that if you want to help me, then automatically you're not an enemy to them. And vice versa."

"They hate me."

Hermione bit her lip, which caused Draco to feel a kind of captivation as he began examining her lips. The curve of her mouth, the fullness, the pinkness, the delicacy of them. An image of him sliding a finger over that curve popped into his mind, followed by a raucous, primal, tawny emotion. Unsettled, he shook his head. His mouth had gone dry.

"Probably," she admitted. "But I'm sure everyone can stand each other. Here, take Blaise!"

"Let's not talk about Blaise now," warned Draco. He didn't want to tell her that when he was with Blaise they often talked about her. He didn't feel like talking about Blaise when he was with her. It was getting ridiculous.

"There's one more thing we need to talk about, Granger."

"Yes?"

"Your hands."

"My hands—"

"And your face. You got burned, in class. We all saw. It looked horrible."

"Ron didn't...?"

"Weasley told me you'd left. That's all."

Draco looked away to prevent her from reading the lie in his eyes. Why was he pretending he didn't know? She would find out sooner or later. He just wanted to hear it from her. He wanted to know from her that she was okay. While he was growing more and more skilled at reading his partner's look, he had no idea that she could do the same.

The class had resumed. Draco's head was clouded by the image of his partner's scorched skin, her screams and moans still echoing in his head. He hated it. The sound of her plaintive voice and pain brought back memories of the Manor, when she screamed under torture. Class was over and almost everyone had finished their potions. Nothing unusual had happened, but Slughorn had made sure to examine his students' ingredients more closely. Blaise, Pansy and Millicent said nothing. Draco was shaking with anxiety, and hated himself for not being able to control himself.

Weasley returned forty minutes later, alone. Class was over and the students were cleaning up their work areas. As soon as Draco saw the redhead reappear, he rudely shoved the material he had in his arms into the cabinet and rushed over to him, completely forgetting that he loathed talking to all Weasleys.

"How is she?" he asked, inwardly calling himself names because of his almost pleading voice.

Ron frowned and took a step to the side away from Malfoy, uncomfortable with this new proximity. Worried. Ron had guessed right. Blimey, this was weird! He concentrated on putting his things away, imitating the others. He hadn't been able to finish his potion, but Slughorn wouldn't hold that against him.

"She's fine, Malfoy," he replied.

Harry, who was at the table just ahead, looked over his shoulder, but said nothing. He was listening to the conversation wondering if Malfoy was hearing what he sounded like. Meanwhile, Slughorn was helping some of the students reorganise the mess in the cabinet to make room for the ingredients that still needed to be put away.

Draco, despite the relief of hearing that Granger was fine, was fuming inside. He needed more details. "What did she say?" he pressed.

Ron stared at the Slytherin hard. "That she was going to look for answers."

Draco sighed as Ron continued to clear his space. Draco knew what she was going to do. But it wasn't enough. Abruptly, he grabbed Weasel's arm and squeezed. "I'm talking to you, Weasley," he spat. "Stop doing that for two seconds and answer me properly."

Ron pulled away sharply and glared at the blond. "What do you wanna know?"

"What did she tell you? You know what I fucking mean."

Harry turned, books in hand, and leaned against the table, still silent. He had decided to make his presence known because Draco was starting to become... Malfoy. Now it was two against one. The Slytherin glanced at Scarface, gave a disdainful sneer and turned his attention back to Weasley.

"What do we have here?" Blaise called out, suddenly appearing behind his friend. Behind Draco, the chair fell loudly. He glared at Blaise, who noisily placed his books on the table where all three were already gathered.

"Could you just watch where you're going?" said Draco to Blaise.

Blaise frowned. "I didn't even—" he paused, and his eyes went wide as he realised something. He hoped he was wrong. "Sorry, Malfoy. I'm clumsy like that." He picked the chair up.

Everybody was staring at him. It was now two against two. Blaise whistled. "What, did I interrupt something again?"

"Shut up, Zab," Draco mouthed. "I just want to know what was going on with Granger."

Blaise nodded in understanding, a smirk on his face. Of course he does.

"As long as we're here..." Blaise began, before leaning his elbows against the table to settle down for good. "Who are we waiting for?"

"You Slytherins are hopeless," Ron grumbled. Hermione told me she was making her potion when it started to stink, and then there was smoke, and finally it all exploded. And she heard voices in her head. 'You know what you are' and 'your time will come'"

"Fuck!" exclaimed Draco, suddenly angry. "Again with that! What kind of rubbish is this! You know what you did and You know what you are! What has she done? What is she? What is so special about Granger?"

Silence fell at the table as Blaise, Ron and Harry all looked at him with their mouths slightly open in wonder. All around them, students were beginning to leave the classroom in an ambient chatter. No one was paying them any attention, not even Slughorn, who was stacking cauldrons.

"If anyone's supposed to know what Granger did, it's you two!" Draco accused, pointing at Scarface and Weasel. "You've been inseparable for seven bloody years! What did Granger do?"

"Nothing," Harry cut in sharply. "I suggest you watch what you're implying, Malfoy."

"Whatever. Just piss off." Draco strode off wildly, determined to get his meal as quickly as possible and return to his dormitory, knowing full well that that's where Granger would find him when she would return.

In the corridor, soles clacked behind the blond and someone grabbed his arm to stop him. "I take it today is the day you stop being a dick to her?" Ron mockingly asked.

"One by one the lights emerged
Fluttering like fireflies
Reminding of the path home
Even for the ones
Who lost their way long ago"

Maria Lehtman