AN: I am not currently receiving notifications when people review so I apologize for not responding to your reviews individually for the last couple of chapters. I didn't notice the problem until today. Thank you so much to everyone who has who has stuck with me so far. This one was extremely tough to write for some reason but I hope you all enjoy the finished product!

Chapter 13

A step towards forgiving

"You what?" Hermione exclaims, eyes darting to the man in front of her. Unable to see his face, she turns her attention back to the woman who had appeared. She is still staring directly at them, no, at him. Unlike the previous spirits she had seen in the house, this one is silent. There are no screams, no sobs. Hermione sees no anger in her face and begins to study her more closely.

She can see she wore a sundress, though its pattern is no longer clear, the silvery streaks of the blood that stained it in life are dotted and smeared across the now translucent fabric.

"I killed her," his voice is so soft as he finally speaks that Hermione almost misses it. "Them," there is a tightness in his voice as he continues, as though it is difficult for him to get the words out. "I killed all of them."

Almost as though his words have summoned them, screams and cries break through the silence. Hermione feels the cold against her back as Draco steps backward, pushing her and his Mother back against the wall, his head turning quickly side to side as he surveys the hallway around them. Hermione's eyes drift back to the spirit before them, surprised to see her glancing around the hallway as well before her eyes fall back on the three of them. She glides forward and Hermione feels Narcissa's arm as she pulls herself in front of her, forcing her to the back of their trio.

The woman pauses once she reaches them, her face tilted up, eyes staring at the man before her. "You're almost out of time." Her voice is soft, almost melodic, and Hermione has to strain to hear her. "I can feel you fading." Her eyes drift over the two women behind him and Hermione begins to ask a question as the spirit turns away and disappears through the door beside them.

"Cibney," Draco calls out, the suddenness of his voice causing Hermione to startle slightly. The distinct pop of the elf's arrival is drowned out by the noise around them and her ears droop as she nervously looks at the hallway around them. He looks down at her before moving away from the women slightly. "I need you to take Mother and Granger to my Mother's room." Turning to Hermione he continues, "Cast the strongest silencing charm you can on the rooms and stay there. I'll be there soon."

As he turns away from them, Hermione grabs his arm, forcing him to turn back to her. "I will not," she yells angrily. "I told you before that if you were going to do something stupid you were going to have to take me along. I meant it."

"I need you to keep my Mother safe," he urges her, pulling his arm out of her grip. "She can't use magic, Granger. I'm not going to do anything stupid. I just need to do something really quickly and then I will meet the two of you there." He sees her prepared to argue and continues, "I swear it, Granger. I will not be far behind you."

Hermione huffs in frustration, allowing the elf to take hold of her hand and along with Narcissa's and take them away as Draco opens the door the spirit had just walked through.

The room is dark. A layer of dust covers the surfaces, undisturbed darkened blood pools stain the once pristine plush carpet under his feet. The ghostly woman stands near the window looking out. "You followed me," she says lightly, as she turns her head toward him.

"You're different from the others."

"They don't belong here." Her eyes narrow as she turns her attention toward the hallway. "They are shades, cruel and angry. Stuck where they can never belong. They're draining. You feel it don't you? You're fading."

"What do you mean, fading? And are you saying that you belong here?"

"There's an energy that lives in this house." She glances down at her hands with a frown on her face. "I can no longer feel much but the energies that flow through your home are what allows me to hold on to this shadow of who I was. That energy feels the same as the energy that flows from you. I don't really know what it is but they feel the same. As it fades I'm finding it harder to hold on to this form. I may be forced to move on soon."

"Why would you want to stay?"

"I know that this isn't the life I had before but it's a life. Those final days were terrifying and painful and I didn't want that to be my last memories of my life. I guess I was scared to pass on. When I first came back that man was still here so I stayed hidden any time anyone came near. Eventually the others left and you were still here but you never came down. I've seen you in passing time and again but you always seem in such a hurry."

"You do remember me then." His eyes land on the carpet below her, studying the grotesque patterns left upon the floor. "I am so sorry."

"I was hoping you'd come here sooner. I've been waiting to talk to you."

"He's taking too long," Hermione mutters as she paces before the fireplace. "If he's not back soon, I'm going back for him."

"Miss Granger, please have a seat." Narcissa replies calmly. "I can assure you that Draco is one to keep his word. He will join us shortly. It's only been barely fifteen minutes after all."

With a sigh, Hermione sinks down into the offered chain, folding her arms protectively across her chest. "What did he mean? He killed them."

"I'm afraid that I cannot answer that. I was not present and, I am afraid, I do not know the circumstances surrounding those girl's passing. I can tell you that, if they were in Greyback's rooms, they would have been dead either way. You may find me rather biased, but I do not believe my son to be capable of killing for sport."

"Do you know who those women were?"

"I am afraid I do not. There were so very many people who were brought in and out of the manor that, if I had even attempted to learn their names, it would have been a monumental task. Based on her attire I would place her as one of the Muggleborns who was unfortunate enough to be caught by the snatchers."

"Not a Muggle?"

"The Muggles never lasted long enough to make it to the Manor," Narcissa's words were matter of fact and Hermione felt her eyes widen at the prospect. "I played hostess to the worst of wizardkind that I have ever been unfortunate enough to lay my eyes upon. You may find me cold and callous but, throughout the war, my one concern was for my son. I could not allow myself to worry for others when the Dark Lord had decided that my son would bear the majority of the punishment for my husband's mistakes."

"I don't understand."

"Lord Voldemort was a cruel master even to those who served him well," Narcissa explained calmly. "Even during the times where we were considered to be in his good graces, there was the constant fear of losing our standing. Those who displeased him were severely punished; many were tortured or put to death. Some had the misfortune of suffering both fates. Lucius failed his master and, when he was not present to receive it, his punishment fell to my son instead. When he returned, the Dark Lord decided that his punishment would be shared between the two Malfoy men. You were not close to my son and yet I am certain that even you could see the change in him in the time that...creature was present in our home. I was constantly fearful that each time I spoke to my son would be my last. He is the most important thing on this earth to me, Miss Granger. So I am afraid that you will have to forgive my ability to worry about others who suffered a fate that was forever hanging over my own child's head."

"I don't find you cold, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I appreciate that, dear."

Hermione stands from her seat, resuming her pacing, "Where is he?"

"Relax, dear," Narcissa says, sipping lightly at her tea. "My son is a man of his word. He will take no unnecessary risks tonight."

"The ghosts are starting to appear outside of the dungeons. He may not take risks but what if he runs into one of them without meaning to. We got lucky with the two that we came across in the hallway." Turning toward the door she states, "I'm going back for him."

"Miss Granger, I assure you that is unnecessary," Narcissa rises from her seat, walking quickly over to the angry young woman. "The Manor is a large home with several wings. We do not know where Draco is at present and you are likely to get yourself lost. I suggest you sit back down and wait."

"I can't wait," Hermione exclaims. "I can't just sit here and do nothing. What if something's happened? What if he hasn't come because he can't?"

"If I didn't know better, Granger, I'd think you were worried about me." Hermione turned at his voice to find the subject of her ire leaning casually against the door, Cibney standing beside him where she had just finished transporting him. The familiar smirk on his face only served to make her angrier and she stormed over to him.

"I am supposed to be helping you," she exclaimes as she comes to stand before him, glaring up at him. "I can't do my job if you insist on these unnecessary risks."

"It was rather important."

"Important...What pray tell was so important that you had to follow a ghost during a manifestation?" The smirk drops as his eyes fall from her face to land on the floor beside him. He mumbles something so softly that she doesn't catch it. "What did you say?"

"I needed to apologize." Without waiting for a response, he pushes away from the door, walking over toward his Mother. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, dear, Miss Granger has been wonderful company."

"What is going on?" Hermione demands. "Malfoy what did you mean you killed them?"

Draco sighs before dropping into the seat Hermione had vacated only minutes before, gesturing for her to take the final free chair at the table. "I mean that I killed them."

"I don't understand." Hermione slowly lowers herself into the offered chair, leaning toward him slightly. "Why?"

"Greyback was a monster, more wolf than man most of the time," Draco began, eyes distant. "The Dark Lord approved of this and even encouraged it. He was an excellent tracker and, as a reward, was regularly allowed to choose from the prisoners for his own...bit of fun," his lip curls in disgust as he speaks, eyes refusing to meet hers. "I was forced to watch several times and, when the full moon would come, he would be locked in the room with them, the ultimate game for him. He'd break them and then maul them. The next morning, several times, I would be sent in to remove the spells on the doors that held them in. He would leave and these women would be laying on the floor in a pool of their own blood. I killed them. Each and every one that had the misfortune of lasting through the night. I...I knew they wouldn't make it and I couldn't just leave them there.

"As soon as I removed the silencing charms on the doors, I could hear them. Some would still be screaming, others had screamed themselves bloody and could do no more than whimper in their pain. I couldn't heal them and if I had they would have lived a cursed life only to have it happen again the next month. I couldn't bring myself to put them through that so I killed them."

"How? Your wand showed you had never cast the killing curse."

"No," Draco exclaimed, shaking his head quickly. "No magic the Dark Lord had a trace put on my wand. He never trusted me and always knew when I did magic. If he'd known that I…" he trailed off voice going quiet for several moments. "No magic." Reaching into his boot, he pulls out a short sharp knife, setting it on the table before him. "I slit their throats." His voice stutters as he continues, eyes now trained on the knife between them. "Most were already so far gone that they passed in moments. I slit their throats and held them as they bled out. I can still feel the warmth of their blood as it soaked through my clothes; I see it when I look at my hands." His eyes meet hers and almost desperate plea within them. "I killed them and nothing will ever bring any of them back and I am so sorry."

His hands are shaking by the end of his story and Hermione finds herself reaching across the table and holding them in her own. His eyes widen at her movements but he does not pull away. "That's horrible, Malfoy," she says softly, squeezing his hands tightly, "but it doesn't make you a monster. You saved them from hours of suffering in the only way you could at the time." He shakes his head at her, obviously disagreeing with her observation and shakes his hands to draw his attention back to her. "Yes, you are the one that killed them, but they were already dead anyway. The amount of pain they must have been in had to have been excruciating. You ended that for them."

Narcissa steps in, pulling Draco to her and embracing him tightly. "Oh my son," her voice breaks as she speaks, tears falling quietly from her eyes, "I am so sorry."

"I needed to apologize. What if they could have survived otherwise. A cursed life is still a life and I took that choice from them. It's unforgivable. Who was I to choose whether they would survive? I'm not a healer. What if I was wrong? They could still be alive if it wasn't for my choices."

"It was war, Malfoy," Hermione cuts in, tightening her grip on his hands. "We all had to make impossible choices. Do you really believe that Greyback would have allowed them to live?" She pauses, waiting for a response that does not come. "Greyback was insane. If they had managed to survive being mauled he would have more than likely killed them by the next full moon. I hate the fact that they had to die. I hate that you were the one to take their lives but you are forgivable. You did it for them, to be kind, not cruel. That's the difference. You're no monster, Malfoy."

"You did what you felt necessary, my son," Narcissa states, releasing him from her comforting hold and standing once more.

"I murdered them, Mother."

"Yes, you killed them but you were not their murderer."

"How can you say that?" Draco exclaims, pulling his hands away and running them anxiously through his hair. "How can both of you sit there and tell me that I've done nothing wrong?" Turning back to Hermione, he continues, "How can you come here and try to help me? After everything I've done to you? After everything I've said? After I just stood back and watched you be tortured? How can you even entertain the fact that I could not possibly deserve every wretched thing that is happening to me?"

"You were a bully," Hermione responds flatly. "A biggoted, misinformed bully. You were horrible to me in school but, believe it or not, Malfoy, I forgave you a long time ago for what you did to me. I saw the changes in you, how terrified you were, and I knew you were just a scared little boy and I forgave you." She pauses for a moment before continuing, "The woman in the hallway, did she forgive you?" It takes several moments before he nods and she gives him a gentle smile. "If she can forgive you then don't you think it's about time you started to try and forgive yourself?"

"I want the Malfoy's to stay with me," Hermione announces as she enters the Minister's office early the next morning. Having stayed up throughout the night with the Malfoy's, she is still in the clothes she had worn when going to tea with Narcissa. Her hair has been thrown into a hasty bun, several curls escaping their confines to fall about her face.

"Good morning to you too, Miss Granger," Kingsley says with a sigh as he takes in her appearance. "I take it you had an eventful morning."

"It's not safe for them to remain at the Manor any longer and, seeing as there are no safe houses available for their use, I would like to offer my home as a safe house for them."

"Your apartment?"

"Yes."

"Your one bedroom apartment." It's a statement, not a question and he folds his hands on his desk waiting for her to respond.

"We'll cast an extension charm on it. We can add an extra bedroom and Mrs. Malfoy can sleep in my room. My pull out sofa is rather comfortable."

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid my answer is no."

"Why in Merlin's name not," Hermione exclaims, slamming her palms down on his desk. "That house is unsafe and they've nowhere else to go. We can't just leave them there."

"And who would you propose to lead the investigation in your stead?" His voice is calm as he stares calmly over at her. "In order to remain part of this investigation, you must maintain impartiality. You are already toeing that line, Miss Granger. Bringing them into your home would push you over it."

"That's bollocks and you know it Kingsley."

"Those are the rules. You know this, Miss Granger."

"Damn the rules," she states, pulling herself back to her full height and glaring down at the older man. "How many times have we bent and broken the bloody rules?"

"Either you find someone else to take the case or you find them somewhere else to go." He shrugs calmly at her, sitting back in his chair. "Those are the only two options I'm able to give you."

"They've no where else to go!"

"Then hand the case off to someone else."

"No one else will care," she huffs, finally falling into her usual seat before his desk. "Harry's got his own caseload with the Aurors and I doubt Robards would allow him to take this on. Everyone else only sees them as Deatheaters. No one else will care."

"Last I knew, you were under that same impression. I've given you your options. Remove yourself from the case and they can shelter in your home. Stay on the case and find somewhere else for them to go or allow them to remain in the Manor. Which is more important to you?"

Hermione stares at the man in silence for several minutes, the questioning arch of his brow spurring her anger brighter. She eventually stands and walks quietly from the room, slamming the door behind her.