AN: Ask and you shall receive. Here's chapter 3. Thank you for the lovely reviews. Also, this story has no beta so I'm sure there are errors. I apologize.

DANGEROUS LIAISONS.

AUGUST 1, 1997 (Night).

Sight and sound were squeezed and distorted until darkness consumed Hermione and all she could feel was the soft texture of her worn stuffed animal. Portkeys had the added advantage of being untraceable but Hermione preferred the controlled motion of the apparition. Unlike apparition where the point of the pull started from the top of the person's head, portkeys had the unfortunate circumstance of being sucked into the void from the person's navel, making the torso twist in an uncomfortable position, hence the reason why most people land horizontally instead of upright. For a moment, she forgot about the uninvited guest to their quick, little escape as she landed ungracefully on her back, the familiar ceiling of her mother's parlor room soon came into view. Her vision was still a bit muzzy and there was a ringing in her ears as if something large had exploded within proximity of her hearing. Hermione stayed there, unmoving, trying to get her bearings until a wooden stick landed on her face and she heard a slightly garbled "Hermione, help!"nearby.

A stick?

She immediately sat straight up and saw three wands scattered across the plush carpeted floor. Hermione recognized Harry's familiar phoenix feather wand, while the other two most probably belonged to the remaining occupants of the room. Looking around, she didn't know whether to laugh or be furious at the sight before her.

Ginny was on the floor squirming like a worm as she struggled to get off her binds. Next to her was the cause of Hermione's amusement and consternation. Harry and the Malfoy patriarch were busy going at it like drunk patrons of the Leaky Cauldron on a Friday night. It reminded Hermione of that incident at Flourish and Blotts during her second year where Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy got tossed outside for brawling like teenagers. Hermione wondered whether fistfighting was a natural reaction of Draco's father to every conflict, forgetting that he has a more powerful arsenal within his person. Like, oh, I don't know. Maybe his wand?

Hermione marched up to the two men, ignoring Ginny for the meantime who had gone still and was now observing the unfolding spectacle with a curious glint in her eyes.

"Break it off you two!" in her haste to split them apart, Hermione tried to wedge herself in between them just as Harry was about to push Malfoy again. Her best friend had ended up pushing her towards the blond bigot and Hermione's left foot caught the leg of an end table. They both toppled down clumsily with Hermione landing face-first on top of Malfoy, her head tucked between the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Oomff!"

The first thing she noticed was that for someone so evil, Malfoy smelled so good. He smelled of pine trees, citrus, and cardamom with faint traces of firewhiskey—Ogden's, Hermione thought. At this close proximity, it made her feel heady and intoxicated and it reminded Hermione of waking up early on Christmas morning, only to find that everyone was still asleep. The next thing she noticed was that for a man of his age, Malfoy felt so firm—not that she was feeling him up. No, sir. It was hard to ignore that fact when she was pressed up quite intimately against him. The last thing she noticed, and it shouldn't be such a surprise, was that Malfoy's heart was pounding quite loudly in his chest, almost as loud as hers. And it was that glaring truth that surprised her. He had a heart. She was absolutely, positively, sure that his insides mostly comprised of peacock feathers and rotten lacewing flies, pompous git that he was.

Hermione squirmed against him but her thigh ended up brushing another part of his anatomy that she would rather forget was there. She felt him stiffened underneath her and Hermione decided to stop moving. Callused hands gripped her arms and she winced in pain, remembering suddenly that her left arm had absorbed the impact of her fall back then with her fight with Dolohov.

A shudder went through her at the memory of his unhinged smile and Malfoy must've felt it and interpreted it the wrong way.

"Get off me!" Malfoy unceremoniously dumped her beside him and Hermione ended on her back once more, gazing at the Victorian ceiling.

This is getting tiresome.

"Hermione!" she heard Harry shout and he must've found his wand because Malfoy ended up on the floor again as well but his body was entirely tied with thick ropes like the ones she saw Ginny in earlier. Harry then helped her get up before giving her wand back. She spied another wand on the floor near them, one that is unfamiliar and Hermione picked it up, noticing that the cracks nearly split it down into ragged halves. Her fingers tightened her hold on it when she felt a feeble rush of magic flow inside her as if it recognized her or at the very least, acknowledged her. Did I just actually feel that?

"Release me right this instant!" Malfoy snarled. "And don't touch my wand, you filthy Mudblood!"

"Are you alright?" Harry asked her, ignoring the thrashing wizard on the ground. Ginny was standing beside him as well with her wand pointed in Malfoy's direction.

"I'm fine," she mumbled. Truth be told, she wasn't but she didn't want to appear weak to everyone in the room. "What happened?"

Ginny jabbed her wand in Malfoy's direction. "I saw him running towards us back at the wedding. I thought he wasn't going to make it but apparently, he did. Who knew Mr. Fancy Pants here had it in him?"

"Ginny!" Harry hissed then he spoke in a lower voice. "I wouldn't really antagonize him further. If it weren't for Hermione interfering, he would've subdued me."

"Where have you taken my son?!" All three of them turned towards the seething wizard on the ground. Hermione had to give it to him. He still looked quite intimidating even though the only thing he could move right now was his head.

"Draco?" Harry asked confused. He quickly peered around, as if expecting the ferret to suddenly appear out of thin air. "We didn't take him! You and your lot are the ones who gatecrashed the wedding!"

"Don't lie to me, Potter! I saw that disgusting werewolf and his wife apparate him and that idiot Weasley boy!"

Several sounds of indignation were heard from the three but it was Hermione who spoke first. She didn't know what exactly happened after Ron was struck with a curse since she was occupied with saving her own arse from being possibly kidnapped by Antonin Dolohov. Hermione levitated Malfoy to the nearest chair she could find and tossed him there carelessly, the same way he did a while ago. It's hard to talk to someone lying on the ground and even though Malfoy's a complete arsehole, she, at least, had the moral decency to be courteous even with your enemies.

"Look here you arrogant prat!" she then marched towards him, stomping her feet with all the anger she could muster. "First of all, we didn't take your precious son. Second, don't you dare speak to Professor Lupin that way, and third," she jabbed a finger in his chest as hard as she could "why the hell were you trying to kidnap me?"

Malfoy had the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes like the answer should be quite obvious. "For someone who claims to be the 'Brightest Witch of Her Age', you sure aren't that bright."

"I didn't claim—"

Harry had caught her wrist mid-air as she was about to slap Malfoy's smug face. Oh, it would be way too easy to wipe that off. She wondered if he would also whimper and cry like his son when Hermione punched Draco in the nose.

"Answer the question, Mr. Malfoy," Harry glowered, his bright green eyes blazing.

"You think can order me around, boy? What are you—arggh!" Malfoy doubled over and howled in pain.

Harry and Hermione glanced behind to see Ginny lowering her wand, a satisfied look on her face. "I've always wanted to do that since I found out he was the one who slipped the blasted diary to me years ago."

"What did you do?" Hermione asked. Ginny had always been ruthless and creative when it comes to her curses, the reason why she quite excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, even more than Hermione, probably the same caliber as Harry.

"Oh, just a little stinging hex."

"I doubt that hex is little if it caused him to react that way," Harry replied.

"You would if it was aimed at your nuts." At that, Harry visibly shivered.

"You'll pay for that immensely," Malfoy seethed. He then took a deep breath as if to calm himself and Hermione watched, fascinated as he regained composure quickly. He reverted to his usual haughty demeanor as if he wasn't the one in a tight situation—pun intended. Hermione nearly flinched when he directed his sharp eyes to her. "The Dark Lord wanted to use you as bait to lure out Potter here but it seems he doesn't need to since you are both here already. It's like hitting two pathetic birds with one stone."

All-encompassing fear suddenly replaced Hermione's fury. If it weren't for Arthur giving her a warning and Ginny and Harry coming to her rescue, Hermione was positive she would've been taken already. She might be sitting in a dungeon somewhere right now, being tortured for information. Dolohov's face flashed in her vision again.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but she couldn't help but flinch at the contact. He then surveyed his surroundings, confused at first before recognition washed his features. "Wait, are we in your mum's parlor? Where are Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"

Shit. Shit. Shit!

She hadn't told Harry about her parents. Hermione sucked a deep breath and gave him her best pleading look, hoping he would drop the questions for now until they were at least out of Malfoy's earshot. Fortunately, Ginny came to her rescue, unbeknownst to the redhead herself.

"Parlor? This is where you live? Blimey, Hermione, you didn't tell us you're that posh!" Ginny exclaimed, surprised and a bit of awe lacing her tone. Their prisoner was momentarily forgotten.

"This is our ancestral home. I don't know how old it is actually," Hermione explained. She noticed that even Malfoy appeared intrigued and was assessing his surroundings quite thoroughly. "My grandfather told me the Grangers had migrated from France in the 18th century but didn't specifically say that they had settled here in London. It could have been here before they took residence. No one really knows."

The house, if you could call it a house, was a mixture of Victorian and Gothic architecture. It was built of two types of Bath Stone, and was highly picturesque, bristling with turrets and possessing an elaborate roof. All facades have many Gothic main windows (the one Hermione exploded when she was six), Tudor oriel windows, chimneys, and attic dormers. There was supposed to be a tower but only the base was built. When Hermione found out she was a witch, her parents had decided to turn that room into a potion's laboratory for her to practice with.

"But why is everything covered in white cloth?" Harry insisted. "And where are your parents? Where is everyone?"

"Mum and dad took a vacation," she lied, the words hissing through her teeth. Please let it be the last of his questions.

"I thought you said your parents were… dentists, was it? I didn't know you could earn that much from cleaning people's teeth," Ginny questioned.

"It pays well but I've come from a long line of doctors. They're the Muggle version of Healers and is a very respectable career in the Muggle world. Plus, we have a small winery in France too so…" Hermione shrugged. "Had I been a Muggle, I guess I would've been a neurosurgeon."

"New-row—what?"

"It's a healer but for the nervous system like the brain and the spinal cord," she tapped the back of her neck.

"You need healers for the brain?"

"Yes—"

"As fun and educational this is, I must insist that you tell me now where you hid my son," Malfoy cut her off impatiently.

"For the last time, Mr. Malfoy, we didn't kidnap your son. And even if Professor Lupin did take him, I would bet my life that he wouldn't harm a child unlike someone I know," Hermione snapped.

"Your life means nothing, girl. You may have a fancy house but you're still nothing but a filthy Mudblood."

A hex whizzed past Malfoy, nearly missing his cheek by an inch. "It will hit your man parts again the next time you repeat that word," Ginny warned.

"Blood traitor," he mumbled but didn't say anything else.

Harry decided that enough was enough. He pulled the two women out of Malfoy's earshot and just in case, had placed muffling charms around them. Hermione released a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"What do we do with him?" he jerked a thumb in Malfoy's direction.

"I say we obliviate him!" Ginny clapped her hands together, her features turning to a manic glee that resembled Dolohov's face. "We remove his entire memory and replace it with a new one. Let's turn him into a Muggle!"

"Ginny, as satisfying as that sounds, we know it would be dangerous for everyone. Accidental magic could happen," Hermione replied although she was tempted to do it as well. But then she remembered her parents and suddenly felt guilty for Draco. Even though the ferret was a constant pain in her backside throughout her school years, she didn't want him to go through the pain of losing a parent.

"We could try and make a deal with him?" Harry suggested.

"I don't think that's wise. This is Lucius Malfoy we're talking about, you know?" Hermione replied. "The one who got away by saying he was Imperiused by You-Know-Who during the first war when we all know it was just a lie."

"But he might know something about the Horcruxes since," Harry then glanced warily at Ginny before looking back to Hermione. "since he had the diary."

"It's fine, Harry. I rarely have nightmares about it anymore." Ginny waved him off but Hermione didn't believe her. When she often stayed up late in their dorm room, she could hear Ginny crying in her sleep and often murmured the words, 'diary' and 'basilisk'.

"He might know who R.A.B. is too," Harry added.

"Well, what makes you sure he'll tell us anything?"

"We could tell him where Draco is in exchange for information."

"But we don't know where the ferret is," Ginny contended. "All we know is that Tonks and Lupin took him and Ron."

"We could make up something," Harry ran a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair before pinching his nose. It's one of the telltale signs of his agitation, something Hermione had become aware of during their second year when Harry insisted the Draco was the heir of Slytherin and no one believed him at first.

"Have you even considered that Mr. Malfoy might be a Legilimens?" Hermione countered.

"It's not as if we're going to give him his wand back so unless he can do wandless Legilimency then I guess we can pull it off."

Well, there's also the fact that his wand might be broken, she thought. Hermione glanced down at the long, black wand in her hand, her thumb slowly stroking the deep crack. There was that dull throb that still resonated long after she took the wand in her palm. What could this mean? She sighed resignedly.

There was really no stopping Harry once he'd made up his mind about something. They had a nasty row back in their fifth year when he insisted that Sirius was in danger and they should rush to the Department of Mysteries to save him. Harry had felt remorseful about that incident since aside from getting his godfather killed, he had also put his classmate's lives in danger. She wanted to pull the guilt card on him now but Hermione remembered that she and Ron were the ones who insisted on coming along with Harry's hunt for Horcruxes.

Ron.

Was he okay? Hermione could only hope that the spell that hit him was non-fatal.

She flicked her gaze in Ginny's direction. "I supposed you're alright with this?"

The redhead shrugged. "Not really. But Harry does have a point. We need to start somewhere."

"I will be the one talking and Ginny, stop using heavy spells for now. You're still sixteen and have the Trace on you. There are wards placed around the house that allowed me to practice a few simple spells before but I don't know how effective it is if magic is used extensively."

Ginny looked like she wanted to argue but nodded in silent acquiescence instead while Harry had that steely determined look on his profile.

Merlin, help us, Hermione thought before dispelling Harry's muffling charm. If this blew up in their faces, at least there was the option of obliviating Malfoy. She labeled that option as a 'last-ditch effort' and placed it on the back of her mind for now.

Lucius wasn't sure how he ended up like this, wandless and bounded like a helpless cattle. He chalked it up to the heat of the moment, the desperation to find out where his son had been taken. Logically, he knew that the 'Light' wouldn't hurt Draco or at the very least, wouldn't let him come to extreme harm. But Cissa's voice echoed inside his head, the words playing repeatedly.

Promise me you'll keep our son safe no matter what.

Promise me. Promise me. Promise me. Promise me. Promise me.

I promise, Cissa.

And when Arthur Weasley's voice reverberated across the marquee, Lucius was snapped back to reality. Hermione, they're after you! Get out of there now! He then saw the Mudblood girl pulled out something in her bag and he knew in an instant that it was a portkey.

Dolohov was hurled backwards while Lucius raced forward, towards the girl, Granger. Hermione Granger.

And maybe, just maybe, the gods were looking down upon him tonight (they probably took kindly to desperate fathers) since he managed to reach the portkey in time. His fingertips brushed the soft fur of the stuffed animal and immediately felt the sickening pull from his navel.

It was a miracle that his wand had worked when he had cast the incarcerous spell, hitting the Weasley girl on the chest and he had a fleeting thought that maybe he could pull this off—incapacitate the two redheads and get the Granger girl. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she was still lying on the ground, a dazed look on her face. Lucius assumed that she was unused to traveling by portkey. He was about to stun the other one when he realized that it wasn't a Weasley.

To his utter surprise and exhilaration, the other redhead was none other than the Boy-Who-Lived himself. It was clever of the Order to Polyjuice him and pretend that he's a distant Weasley relative.

Unfortunately, it was when Lucius' luck had run out. His wand had merely emitted a few red sparks when he yelled "stupefy!" but that slight hurdle didn't deter him. He was a resourceful man. If he couldn't get luck to the table, he would use sheer will and a bit of force to get what he wanted.

Dropping his wand to the ground, he lunged at Potter. That was when things went downhill and now here he sat, a prisoner of three teenagers. Pathetic. His ancestors were probably rolling in their graves right now.

Lucius wondered what went wrong. He had played the scenario in his mind countless times but he should've known that there were unforeseen variables that will force your plans to shift whether you like it or not. His father called it zugzwang. A chess term meaning "compelled to move" where any move you make will only weaken your position but you have no choice but to continue or else you forfeit the game.

And Lucius wasn't ready to forfeit the game.

His gaze returned to the bushy-haired, know-it-all witch across the room. Hermione Granger.

She had intrigued him.

If she had been born from a Pureblood family, Lucius would stop at nothing to secure a betrothal contract between her and his son. She was academically diligent and had a natural affinity for magic from what he had heard from Severus. Her hair was probably a lost cause but apart from that, the girl looked unconventionally pretty with her whiskey-colored eyes and heart-shaped face.

But she wasn't a Pureblood.

And Lucius should stop thinking about her that way. She was an enemy, nothing more. When the Dark Lord had finally won the war, her life would be extinguished or probably sold to slavery.

Still, he couldn't help but be curious.

He hadn't expected her to physically stop him and Potter and when they both fell, he had acted on instinct and pulled her on top of him. That was his first mistake. The second one was when he had stayed still and hoped the girl would eventually get off him. Her hair, which had grown considerably tame since the first time he saw her in Flourish and Blotts, smelled of fresh roses and vanilla with a hint of something fruity. For a moment, it transported him back to when he was fourteen in his mother's garden during the summer holidays. It reminded him of a happier time.

But the memory was gone as soon as it came when the girl started squirming. Her thigh brushed his groin and Lucius felt his blood shoot down below. He stiffened, disgusted with himself for such a debase reaction with a girl half his age and Mudblood to boot.

He shoved her away and that was his third mistake. As soon as the girl was off him, Potter took the opportunity and immobilized him.

Damn it all to hell!

Lucius needed to gain the upper hand in this quickly. His fellow Death Eaters would be returning to the Manor soon and the Dark Lord will be informed immediately of what happened at the wedding. And since he and Draco weren't there to receive the punishment, the only person who will likely suffer his wrath was his wife.

I'm so sorry, Cissa.

Lucius bit the inside of his cheek hard and tasted blood.

Ginny followed Harry and Hermione as they made their way across the room back to Malfoy who was staring blankly at an open space. She had kept her wand in her hand even though Hermione had forbidden her to use heavy spells. You'll never know what will happen especially with a sleazy wizard like Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione stopped in front of him while Harry stood a step back to her left. Ginny sat on the white cloth-covered couch behind them, ankles crossed and leisurely twirling her wand.

"We want to make a deal," Hermione announced in her stern, bossy tone, one that commanded everyone's complete attention. It reminded Ginny of that first DA meeting.

Malfoy looked up, his eyes narrowed to slits as if he were looking at the sun. He worked his jaw for a few seconds before speaking. "A deal, you say? What makes you so sure I would agree to this?"

"It's in your best interest to agree, Mr. Malfoy. Refuse and we will be forced to obliviate you of tonight's events and dump you somewhere in Muggle London practically wandless. Unless you can apparate without a wand, I don't think the trip from London to your home would be pleasant."

Ginny noted how Malfoy's eyes tightened and could practically hear the click of his jaw as he gnashed his teeth in rage. "And if I agree?" he said in a clipped tone.

"We will tell you where Draco is," Hermione replied confidently. "We'll even release him at a place of your choosing—provided that it is deemed safe by the Order."

Oh, she is laying it really thick, Ginny thought. She only hoped that Malfoy wouldn't find it too convenient to be true.

"What is the condition?"

Hermione then stared questioningly at Harry, with him nodding a few seconds after, and if Ginny didn't know any better, she'd assume that they were using Legillemency on each other. The truth of it was that Hermione and Harry had that deep bond and understanding that even Ginny couldn't fully comprehend. She had seen it with Fred and George and the Patil twins sometimes but it was somehow different.

Ginny had never been a jealous person and frankly, Harry had never been hers to begin with but she was sure that whatever it was that was going on between him and Hermione was never romantic. Ginny knew what Harry was like when he was getting all moony over someone and how Hermione tended to become a blubbering mess when she was infatuated with someone. She had seen it and it was something Cho Chang and Ron had never grasped.

No, Ginny had never been that jealous like Ron and Cho but that didn't mean she wasn't jealous at all.

She was shaken out of her musings when Harry took a step forward beside Hermione.

"Before Hermione tells you the terms, Mr. Malfoy, we want to know how much do you know about Horcruxes."

And there was silence. Ginny swore she could hear the crickets outside. Malfoy continued to gape at her friends, his mouth parted a little and she was tempted to break the unnerving stillness of the room but Malfoy soon spoke and he sounded a bit off.

"Horcruxes?" he asked, his voice a little higher than it used to. He nearly sounded like Ron when there was a spider nearby.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione confirmed. "Horcruxes."

Ginny noticed that Malfoy had gone a little pale—well, paler than he normally was. And that was when she knew that he knew or at the very least, knew about the darkest magic known to magical people. It was so evil that Magick Moste Evile, a book that contained much information on advanced dark arts, barely skimmed the subject and had even warned readers to not speak of it.

There was another book tucked away in the Headmaster's office. The Secrets of the Darkest Arts. It was probably the book You-Know-Who was referring to in professor Slughorn's memories. Ginny remembered how she had helped Hermione steal it when everyone was busy preparing for Dumbledore's funeral and knowing Hermione, the book was probably hidden inside her beaded bag right now.

The book had explained how to create a Horcrux but it never mentioned how to destroy it and it was something that had kept everyone who knew about it awake. Destroying a Horcrux required that the object containing the soul fragment be damaged to a point beyond any and all physical or magical repair but it didn't explicitly said what spell or object to use. The basilisk's fang was the only thing they were sure of and Ginny was not too keen on going back down at the Chamber of Secrets.

"That's… that's taboo," Malfoy remarked. "Even us practitioners of the Dark Arts are forbidden to speak of it."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Why do you think, girl?" he snapped and the three of them flinched at that. "Do you even know how such things are made?"

"One has to deliberately commit murder to damage a part of one's soul. The person would use a spell to tear off that damaged soul and that fragment is then attached to an inanimate object of one's choosing."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Malfoy said sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks Professor Malfoy," Hermione bit back.

Ginny cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Children behave."

Both Hermione and Malfoy glared at her and Ginny found it extremely odd that they reminded her of whenever her parents were arguing. She shook the mental image of Hermione and Malfoy as a couple away and raised an eyebrow at them instead as if daring them to tell her off.

"Right," Harry scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed. Hermione sighed beside him.

"The deal is we would give Draco back to you in exchange for your help in locating You-Know-Who's Horcruxes."

Malfoy seemed to have gone paler than he was a minute ago like all the blood had been drained off him. "So that's how he came back," she heard Malfoy whisper to himself. After a moment, he looked up at Harry. "You mentioned Horcruxes so I'm assuming he made more than at least two. The diary was one of it then?" Malfoy's glacial eyes then flicked from Harry to Ginny and she tightened her hold on her wand, waiting for him to say something demeaning. Just one wrong word and she would hex the living daylights out of him. To hell with the Trace!

But Malfoy bowed his head a little, looking a little abashed, and the words that came out of his mouth next angered Ginny in a different way.

"I do apologize for that incident. Had I known it was a Horcrux, I wouldn't have slipped it in your things," he paused as if deliberating something before making up his mind. "I only meant to put your father in trouble in the guise of harboring illicit dark artifacts in retribution for conducting raids into Pureblood homes."

Ginny knew she must've looked quite a sight right now with her eyes and mouth wide open. I must be dreaming. She had fantasized about the day Malfoy would be seeking her forgiveness, had imagined countless scenarios and most of it was him on his knees, begging. It had only been that—a fantasy. But now, here it was and somehow, she felt tricked. Like she was robbed of her retribution. Ginny had spent many nights having nightmares because of that damn diary and to find out that Malfoy only did it as some form of petty revenge against her father was despicable. I was just a child!

"Ginny," she hadn't realized she was gripping her wand so hard until she felt Harry's larger hand cover her own, squeezing it for comfort.

No, I wouldn't break down. I'm not that weak girl anymore.

She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I'm fine, Harry," she gently pulled her hand away. I will be the bigger person in this room. "I forgive you, Mr. Malfoy, but I will not forget."

Malfoy didn't respond but nodded his head instead. Ginny hoped he understood that he owed her a huge favor and she will collect when the time came.

"So," Hermione began awkwardly, in an attempt to steer the conversation back to the topic. "Do we have a deal?"

"How do I know you'll not go back on your word? I'm the one who has more to lose here."

"I'm willing to make an Unbreakable Vow with you."

"Wait, what—" Hermione cut off Harry's protest with a glare. Ginny sat back still. She didn't want anything to do with Malfoy but sacrifices must be made. If an Unbreakable Vow was what it took to get him to cooperate then so be it.

"Assuming I agree to this deal and help you locate and destroy all of his Horcruxes, what will happen to the Dark Lord then?" Malfoy asked.

"We believe he will become mortal once more and it's only a matter of finishing him off."

Malfoy had retreated to the back of his mind for a moment. Ginny was sure he was already plotting, trying to turn the situation to his advantage.

"I accept but I have two conditions of my own apart from giving me my son back."

"Name it."

"One, if the Light wins the war, my family and I will be completely pardoned from all of our crimes, and two, I want my wand back."

"We'll not agree to that!" Harry yelled.

"Harry!" Hermione shot him a look and Harry immediately backed down. She then studied Malfoy. "I agree but I have two conditions of my own too."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What is it?"

"I will only agree to the second condition if you promise not to use your wand to, one, cause us any form of harm and, two, contact or summon You-Know-Who or any of your Death Eater pals."

"Agreed."

"Well, then. Harry will serve as our bonding agent," Hermione motioned for Harry to come closer and for Ginny to stand guard. "I will release your binds now. Try anything and Ginny would only be happy to hex you."

Malfoy smirked at her. "Wizard's honor." The binds then came loose once Hermione muttered finite and he stood, flexing his limbs. "Do you mind healing my shoulder first? I don't fancy passing out from blood loss or dying of infection."

"Oh," Hermione gasped. Ginny now caught sight of the caked blood that covered half of his right arm and wondered who had cursed him.

After healing him, Harry had immediately started performing the ritual required of the Unbreakable Vow. He stood quite close to the pair as Hermione and Malfoy clasped each other's right wrist. As each of the two recited their vows of the other, whereupon each time either of them accepted, Ginny watched entranced as thin streams of fire emitted from Harry's wand and wove through Hermione's hand first before encircling Malfoy's. The end of the stream came full circle as it looped back to Harry's wand before dissipating.

"It's done," Harry declared.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Ginny snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What do you expect, Gin? Fireworks?"

The redhead only shrugged her shoulders tiredly. It was probably getting late and they needed to rest but she was still skeptical about Malfoy and his motives. "Where are we going to sleep?"

Everyone stared at her as if she had become a brunette. "What?"

"I haven't thought of that," Hermione muttered.

"You haven't thought of sleeping?" Malfoy scoffed.

There it was again, the mental image of her friend and her enemy as a bickering couple like her parents. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine anything else. Voldemort as a redhead. Snape in purple colored robes with unicorn patterns. Death Eaters having tea parties.

The mantra worked but now she couldn't erase the idea of Voldemort sipping Earl Grey with Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange. An inelegant sound escaped from Ginny's throat.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

Merlin stop her. If she heard him ask that question again, she would vanish Harry's mouth into nonexistence. Ginny liked to think she knew him quite well. Not as well as Hermione did but enough to understand these parts of him. Ginny understood his reticence. His sense of responsibility, his need to care for her and everyone else in his circle. She loved him and was willing to go to the necessary lengths to help and protect him but Harry can be overbearing and insensitive sometimes. And right now, she just wanted him to let her be, to let her disappear in her thoughts and process the emotions going through her.

"I'm fine, Harry. Just exhausted," she then glanced at Hermione. "Can we continue this discussion tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll get some pillows and comforter upstairs. I think it's best if we all sleep here together just in case something happens. You can take the couch, Gin. The rest of us will sleep on the floor."

"Great," Ginny heard Malfoy whisper to himself.

"But Hermione, this is your home—"

"And you are my guest," Hermione insisted with a finality that brooked no argument. "Harry can show you the loo if you need to use it," She then turned around and stalked off to find some extra pillows.

Ginny didn't bother stopping the yawn that escaped her mouth.

What a night.

Hermione sat on the Windsor chair beside the tall Gothic windows overlooking their garden. The moon was especially alive tonight, nearly illuminating the entire surrounding outside. She remembered how her mother frequently sat in this spot and read by the moonlight. Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale was one of Jean Granger's favorites and it was where she got her daughter's name.

Hermione.

A virtuous and beautiful Queen of Sicily who was accused of infidelity by her husband and eventually died of a broken heart but was resurrected in the end. Yet, it was not entirely clear if she had actually been resurrected by Paulina or if she had been alive the whole time. Hermione secluded herself for sixteen years without caring what her absence did to the memory of those she left behind. It was, perhaps, a striking coldness in such an otherwise tender and dignified character.

Hermione wondered why her mother named her after such a character.

"Hey," Harry came up beside her. He leaned against the window frame, his spectacles glinted under the pale moonlight. There were bags under his eyes from sleepless nights since Professor Dumbledore's passing.

"You should sleep, Harry," she said, her gaze landing on Ginny's sleeping form on the couch then on Malfoy who was lying sideways with the back of his head facing them. Hermione had decided that they will take turns in sleeping since they still don't completely trust Malfoy despite the vow. "We have a long day of planning ahead of us tomorrow."

Harry regarded her for a moment. "Your parents were never on vacation, weren't they?" he responded instead.

Hermione shook her head softly. "No."

"And the staff? Bernard?"

"Gone. Safe."

"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand in his.

"Don't be, Harry. I know what I signed up for," she squeezed his fingers in reassurance. "Do you think we should contact Arthur? Let them know Ginny is safe?"

"It's too risky. You-Know-Who has complete control of the Ministry," he had let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his hair instead. "I shouldn't have brought her here."

"Harry, you know that Ginny wanted to come with us. She could've stayed but she chose to grab the portkey. You're not responsible for everyone."

"But I don't want anyone dying because of me!" he hissed.

"When will you ever get it into that thick skull of yours that it's not about you! This war has been going on for decades even before you were born!" Hermione snapped. Ever since he found out about that damn prophecy, Harry had this notion that the fate of the wizarding world rested on his shoulders like some young adult protagonist in a book. "Even if you're not the chosen one, people are still going to die, Harry. This is war. People are sacrificing themselves for their cause!"

"You sure do know how to kick a guy when he's down," he smiled ruefully at her.

"Harry, you know what I mean."

"I know," he held his palms up in surrender. "I think I'm going to take you up on that offer of sleep. Wake me up when I need to take over."

Harry shuffled back to the others and proceeded to lay down a foot away from Malfoy. Hermione watched as Harry tucked his wand underneath his pillow and removed his spectacles before placing it beside his head.

Hermione finally let her shoulders sag in relief. Tonight had gone significantly well all things considered. She can only hope that Malfoy would prove to be useful in finding those Horcruxes. Glancing at her right hand where he had grasped it earlier, Hermione could still feel the fire streams from their Unbreakable Vow, could still feel the imprint of his large callused hands and that tiny spark of electricity once their skins touched.

Had I made the right choice?

AN: A Ginny POV! Let me know what you think. R&R!