A/N: What? Did you think I was dead or something?

Well, I'm not. Just living most of my life in the RW these days. I haven't abandoned this story in the least (or the rest of them for that matter)… I'm just crazy busy with RL.

Anywhoodle, new chapter. I hope you like Draco Malfoy. I kinda do. That is all.

-Nymphean

Chapter 4

…But if my silence made you leave

Then that would be my worst mistake…

"I wasn't sure you would return."

Snape was in his chair, as always, with Hermione standing rigidly in the doorway. She looked at him uneasily, feeling once again on edge, as she had when she had first discovered her former Potions Professor's whereabouts. She did not know why she should feel nervous now, as opposed to the relative ease she'd felt before. Certainly, the lack of anonymity contributed to her nerves. "Neither was I," she said quietly. Snape actually tilted his head in her direction, as if to look at her, at the sound of her natural voice. "I believe you offered me an answer."

Snape nodded slowly. "And I will give it to you… will you have a drink?"

"No. Thank you."

He smirked slightly. "Miss Granger, I am no more likely to poison you now than I was before."

"I'm not thirsty."

He gestured to the room before him. "Then have a seat, at least." Reluctantly, Hermione complied. Snape breathed deeply. "First of all, let me say that knowing your identity changes nothing in this situation. There were only a handful of people I suspected you to be to begin with. The only thing that has changed now is that I have the assurance of your confidentiality."

"Fine," Hermione said shortly. "I've already given you my word that I'll keep quiet. In exchange for information on Malfoy and his whereabouts." She straightened in her chair. "So without wasting any more time… Where is Malfoy?"

Snape pursed his lips. "I cannot tell you where he is staying…"

"What?" Hermione jumped out of her seat and leaned towards the Potions Master. "We have an agreement, Snape! You said—"

"Will you exercise some patience, Miss Granger?" He snapped, sounding eerily like the Professor she'd known back at Hogwarts. "What I am offering is, I think you'll find, better than that. Even if you knew where Draco was, you wouldn't be able to find him. He is protected by Fidelius… I literally cannot tell you the location of his safehouse. I can, however, offer you something in lieu of that information…" Hermione crossed her arms and scowled.

"And what is that?"

"This," said an unexpected voice from the corner of the room. Hermione jumped and drew her wand, turning to face the unexpected guest. She watched the very familiar act of an invisibility cloak being removed, revealing the last thing she had expected to see that day.

It was Malfoy, yes, and yet it wasn't Malfoy at all. His hair, still the same distinctive shade of white blond, was longer now, tied back loosely with a strip of black leather. It was odd to see him out of school robes… Hermione had expected him to wear wizard's garments all the time, but he was clad in typical muggle attire; a dark green pullover and very expensive looking jeans. He had grown several inches, and now had the bone structure and musculature of a grown man, rather than a seventeen-year-old boy. It was his face, though, that sent a chill through Hermione and stopped her dead in the process of petrifying her old enemy.

At Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had always been top of the heap, and he constantly wore an expression that suggested he knew exactly where he stood in the hierarchy of the wizarding world. Hermione supposed that, in a way, that hadn't really changed. What had changed was his position in that hierarchy. The Malfoy family had been disgraced, discredited and dismantled almost completely. He had lost the respect, fear and awe that his family name had afforded him for his entire youth. The old pride was still there in the cold gray eyes, but now it was defensive, almost hostile. The fine, pale skin was almost translucent now, stained a sickly shade of blue under the deep-set, intense eyes.

"Granger," he said, nodding almost indiscernibly. Hermione lowered her wand.

"Malfoy," She said quietly, still in shock. For a moment, none of the occupants of the room said anything, and then Snape rose silently from his chair and, taking his time to orient himself with the room once he was standing, left the room through a door Hermione had never seen opened before. The door clicked shut behind him and she was alone with Draco Malfoy.

"You might as well sit," He said to her, indicating her usual chair. "I get the feeling this is going to be a lengthy process."

Hermione took her seat, keeping her wand out. She head relaxed slightly after the initial shock of seeing her old enemy again, but then Snape had left, and she had felt… she wasn't sure now. Perhaps sorry that he was leaving, perhaps just slightly less secure.

"Severus has told me you ask after me every time you're here," Draco said easily. "I can't help but wonder why you're wasting your time on me, Granger." Hermione scowled at the wording.

"I thought if I could question you, perhaps it would clear things up about Dumbledore's death. Namely, why you felt it necessary to kill him."

"I didn't kill him," Draco said firmly. "Clearly you've been fed a grossly distorted version of what went on that night."

"I know you didn't kill Dumbledore," Hermione said with a hint of frustration, "But I also know that you were going to. Or supposed to. Harry has been over the details of that night with me… I trust him to remember one of the most horrific nights of his life with a certain measure of accuracy."

"When it comes to Potter our levels of trust differ greatly," Draco muttered acidly. He had grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey from the shelf beside him and was pouring himself a generous amount. "Drink?" Hermione frowned.

"I don't think so," She replied, shaking her head. "Answer the question, please." Draco rolled his icy eyes and sighed.

"You always were so direct, Granger. No finesse, no technique…"

"If you think that, by insulting me, you are going to distract me enough to throw me off my line of questioning, you are sadly mistaken. Answer the question."

Draco paused for a moment, and then gave an almost imperceptible nod. "All right. I'm afraid it's painfully obvious, but I can spell it out for you if you wish." He shifted slightly in his chair, as if preparing himself for a rather long sit. "I was under the command of the Dark Lord. I'm afraid it was exactly what it appeared to be."

"You certainly weren't under Imperious… Harry told me Dumbledore attempted to bargain with you, and you were somewhat responsive," Hermione said, and then added, "Belatedly," as an afterthought. Draco scowled.

"If Potter has told you everything that transpired, why must I repeat it for you?"

"I want to hear it from your side," Hermione replied firmly. "Voldemort—" a small shudder passed through Draco at the name "oh, stop it— he had threatened you with your life, the lives of your loved ones, if you did not kill Dumbledore. So, what. You just went about the merry task of setting up a murder, unleashing Death Eaters into a school full of children, and then, when it came time to do the task you'd been set to, you couldn't even do it? Seems to me like you were having second thoughts, ones that seem to contradict your entire nature."

"I am not who you think I am, Granger. None of us Slytherins are, and the sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be. None of us go looking for evil…"

"None of you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Well all right, some do. But in most cases, it comes looking for us. And because of the expectations of people like you and your Gryffindors, it becomes harder every day to refuse what is offered to us. The side of the light has lost many a would-be supporter through its rampant house discrimination." Hermione's mouth was open in a tiny 'o'.

"This from you?" she said, disbelieving. "I have never heard such blatant hypocrisy in all of my…"

"I never said that I was innocent of bigotry, only that you and your lot are more guilty of it than you realize." Draco did not look smug. He looked angry.

"If you were so much better than we all thought, why didn't you seek us out, apologize for the way you'd acted towards us?

Why didn't you go to Dumbledore and ask for his help, or even offer yours, instead of setting the trap for him to be killed?"

Something behind Draco's eyes exploded. "I did what I had to do to protect myself and my family. Dumbledore wasted none of his precious time with me, he had me written off from the moment I stepped through the doors of Hogwarts, everyone did. Why would I chose to protect him over my own mother, over myself?"

"Because perhaps if Dumbledore were still alive, Voldemort would be dead by now."

"We both know that's not true." Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose as though his head ached. "If Dumbledore had had the power to destroy the Dark Lord, he would have done it many years ago. He didn't have that power. The Dark Lord is not Grindlewald… and Dumbledore was getting old. He didn't have a chance in a final battle, and everyone knew that."

"But you didn't have to kill him," Hermione said quietly.

"And I didn't."

"No," Hermione was starting to feel angrier by the second, "You let someone else do it for you, and then you ran, like a coward, to avoid taking responsibility for something you knew was wrong!"

"I am not a Gryffindor, Granger." Draco was scowling right back at her. "I don't use bravery as an excuse to act foolishly. Albus Dumbledore's death was regrettable, but ultimately my own survival was more important to me." He quirked a well-groomed eyebrow at her. "I am sorry if that destroys any delusions you may still have been harboring about my character."

"More like confirming suspicions," Hermione said blandly, with a feeling that she was getting nowhere. "So you and Snape have just been… in hiding? All this time?"

Malfoy smirked at this. "I suppose you could say that."

Hermione looked him over once more. "You don't look like someone who's been in hiding. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say you've been enjoying the same lifestyle as always." This clearly was not true, judging from the look in those cold eyes, the weariness and limpness of his being, but Hermione decided to point out his obvious privilege anyhow.

"The Malfoys are a very well-established wizarding family, Granger, as I'm sure you know. I'm not sure if you know this, being Muggle-born— " Hermione started slightly at Draco's use of the correct terminology for someone of her lineage "—but it is common practice for families with a great deal of wealth to… invest some of their fortune in foreign bank accounts. Especially when those families have certain… unsavory connections."

Hermione nodded, thoughts of Swiss bank accounts and spy movies circling in her heads. "It's the same in the muggle world, sort of. People with power and influence can do basically anything… even disappear."

"Exactly." Draco smirked again, more comfortably this time. "So, you see, I haven't exactly been living in caves…"

"No… It looks as though you've been rather comfortably kept," Hermione replied, before looking around the room. "Snape, on the other hand… I would have thought Voldemort would take better care of the man who spied on Albus Dumbledore for decades and then took him out."

Draco's expression was as close to stunned as Hermione had ever seen it. "You've got to be joking, Granger," he said quietly. Hermione frowned.

"I fail to see how it would be funny if I was."

Draco laughed bitterly. "You stupid girl," he said, causing Hermione to glare angrily at him. "You can't possibly think that he's still working for Voldemort?" at the look on Hermione's face, Draco shook his head in bewilderment. "You do, don't you?"

"Well he's certainly not working for us, is he? Who else would he be working for?"

Draco rubbed the spot between his brows again. "No-one… himself, perhaps, but other than that…" He looked up at her with piercing eyes. "He is a fugitive, Granger, we both are. Severus hasn't had contact with the Dark Lord or any other Death Eaters since that night on the tower when Dumbledore was killed. If that's why you're here, to get to the Dark Lord through him, then you might as well leave. He doesn't know anything, and I really doubt he cares any longer."

Hermione was stunned at all this new information. It all made sense. She had thought that, with his sight gone, the Dark Lord had rejected Snape as his Potions Master and had no further use for him. But now, little things, subtle things about her former Professor had begun to fall into place. If it hadn't made so much sense, Hermione would not have been able to believe it. "Why else would I be here?" She asked, a hint of frustration in her tone. She wasn't sure if she was posing the question to Malfoy or to herself, but he decided to put forth an answer anyhow.

"I don't know, Granger… I hadn't allowed myself to hope that you might be here to help him. I'm sure he hasn't either."

"Help him?" Hermione almost laughed. "Why on earth would I help him?"

The rage returned to Draco's face very suddenly, and Hermione felt a twinge of fear. "Because, you stupid Mudblood, he's on your side! He always has been! If you foolish Gryffindors would get past your pride you would see that. And you have the nerve to call us stubborn!"

Hermione suddenly felt like a guilty child who had been slapped on the wrist as a particularly nasty punishment. She wondered if Snape had taught Draco how to make a person feel that way. But then, Snape hadn't directed that sort of blow at her in many years. She recovered herself quickly. "I don't have any evidence that what you're saying is the truth."

"What do I care if you believe me?" Draco retorted, sneering. "I won't lose anything by it. Severus and I, we have nothing left to lose."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked carefully, in a neutral tone. Draco just looked through her, as if she was completely transparent. It was chilling.

"We have no allies, nobody but ourselves. The Dark would have us killed. So would the Light, for that matter. Neither side will trust us or have anything to do with us. We are completely on our own."

"I know how that feels," Hermione said absently. Draco's finely shaped eyebrows arched upwards, and she shook her head at him. "Never mind." She sighed heavily. "This is pointless. I'm going."

"Fine!" Malfoy shouted as she turned from him. "And so you know, I wasn't entirely truthful with what I said a minute or so ago… I had hoped that perhaps you would help him. I suppose that, while you clearly missed nothing in assessing my character, I must have missed something while assessing yours."

Hermione didn't take the bait, and the last thing she saw as she apparated out of the cottage was a quiet desperation peering out from beneath the hostile scowl on Malfoy's face.