Happy Wednesday lovelies!

I guess I don't really have an update schedule anymore. I am kind of trying to finish off part I before the end of the year (there are 23 chapters left in part I). Or maybe, my goal is to get to part III by the end of the year. I am not sure if that will happen or not, but it's my loose goal.

I really hope you like this chapter and please leave a review and let me know what you think x

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me

A thought had been festering for some time now; a scab that he kept picking at so it never healed.

"Fuck it," Draco said to himself. He was pacing in a misshapen circle in his room; it was oddly stuffy even though his bedroom door and his windows were open. It was a sweltering summer day without an ounce of breeze.

The reality of the war before them was far too great for him to ignore anymore. He couldn't sit by and watch everyone he cared about die. Vow be damned.

It would rip his soul in two to cause any harm to Peter, but the thought to do so had swirled in his mind for a few weeks. The idle weeks where he had been confined to Potter Manor with nothing to occupy him.

James and Sirius kept odd hours since they'd started their Auror training; Moody was working them to the bone, drilling what was normally a two year programme into one. They left before dawn, and came home in the wee hours. Sometimes they showed up in the middle of the day, slept until late in the night, and before Draco could properly talk to either, they were off again.

It was putting a strain on James and Lily's relationship, but with Hermione to keep her occupied, the girl didn't seem too perturbed by the development.

For the past couple weeks, Lily had been contemplating becoming an animagus, so she often spent hours in the Potter library reading up on the subject. She also asked everyone a myriad of questions on the topic. Hermione had provided her with some mandrake leaves in case she wished to go through with it.

The person Draco was most worried about was Remus. He had been uncharacteristically quiet as of late. Not to mention a little skittish. As if there were enemies around every corner, and sudden movements set him on edge. It was peculiar to say the least.

Draco tried to spend more time with his best mate, but Remus mainly wanted to sleep all day. He said it was because it was unbearably hot this summer. As a result, Remus was becoming nocturnal.

"My body tends to run hot because of Moony, and this bloody heat is not helping," Remus had whinged one suffocatingly hot afternoon.

The only thing covering Remus's modesty at the time were his dark blue sheets; which starkly contrasted the stretches of his pale skin. His sandy blond hair had grown to his shoulders, and covered most of his forehead. Sirius often pinned the hair back for his best mate; he always had bobby pins on hand. Mipsy was itching to cut it.

Now that I think about it, he's been acting oddly since the Order meeting…but I never saw him talk to Dumbledore or anyone else of major concern, Draco mused.

The main thought Draco had been mulling over—thickly contemplating—was whether he should go hunt down the horcruxes. Save everyone. The idea was tangible and it wrapped around him, creating an iron blanket of will. He had to save them.

James and Sirius were meant to go on their first official Order mission tomorrow. Simple reconnaissance on an alleged Death Eaters hideout. The need to do something about the future had never been so great within Draco.

Draco made up his mind. Fuck the Vow. He was going to do something. With frightening purpose he made for his bedroom door, but faltered on the way there.

The Unbreakable Vow must have sensed his conviction. It hit him with a force formidable enough to shove him to his knees. All of the air in his lungs was compressed out. Draco's mouth was gaping open as he attempted to breathe. He couldn't. He clawed at his throat desperately and black spots danced in front of his vision.

Draco stared at the slightly ajar door. He wanted to call out for help, he wanted to breathe. He fought his way to his feet again, and his body was trembling with effort as he made another step forward. Once more the Vow struck him down, this time slamming him down onto the hardwood.

Hands at his throat, mouth open, facedown, writhing on the ground as the life drained out of him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He'd just wanted to save his family. To save his brother. To save Lily.

Draco's eyes traced the grooves, curves and patterns of the wood beside his face. He was powerless to do anything else.

Time was an unknown quantity. Draco laid there on the verge of passing out for an eon. Warm hands found his face, and he was flipped onto his back. His vision was blurry, but he recognised the worried hazel eyes instantly. Hermione's long raven hair created a shroud around them as she crouched on the ground, his head in her lap. Her hands were on his cheeks, and she was speaking. He couldn't hear her.

The black spots grew, swelling to swallow his vision whole. Everything faded away after that.

Golden rays peeked through Draco's curtains, and a whisper of breeze toyed with them. It must be much later.

"You could have died," a voice wobbled.

Draco hadn't opened his eyes yet, he had been wholly focused on breathing in and out; on filling his lungs with oxygen. A sensation that had been previously ripped from him.

"So you figured out what I was trying to do…" Draco murmured sepulchrally. His voice was uneven and ragged. He also didn't wish to open his eyes as he knew Hermione was crying. He could sense it through their bond that her soul was wailing. The scent of her tears was in the air.

Hermione was a brilliant witch, it couldn't have been hard for her to connect the dots and figure out why he'd collapsed.

"You could have died." Hermione repeated. There was raw fear and terror in her words. "Did you happen to forget what happens when you break an UNBREAKABLE Vow?"

Draco pried open his eyes, his vision still fuzzy. The witch above him slowly formed. He only then noticed that his body was cushioned by his soft, pliant mattress. Hermione had shifted them to his bed. His head was still in her lap, and her hands were carding through his hair.

She was crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pink, tear tracks glistened on her cheeks.

"I had to, Hermione. I had to try." Draco wept, his entire body shaking. His eyes fluttering shut once more, and he pressed the heels of his palms against them. "I just had to."

"The drop in your magic was so drastic I'd feared the worst. I sensed you dying through our bond, Draco…" Hermione said, her voice as thin and fine as silk threads. "The others were worried as well, and I only just managed to convince them you were fine."

"I'm not dying anytime soon…I just—"

Hermione bent down and pressed a velvety soft kiss to his forehead. She spoke against his skin, sending tingles across his body. "I know, sweetness. I know."

Draco exhaled shakily. His body was heavy and stiff. "This is just going to get harder. Isn't it?" Draco asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Hermione's resounding silence was the only answer he needed.

"When it all gets to be too much for me. I try and remember the people who do survive. I think about Ron and Harry."

"Do you think about Remus and Sirius as well?"

"Yes."

"We've briefly discussed this before, but…do you think they will forgive us…for Jamie and Lily. For Peter?" It was a question that resided in the back of his mind most of the time, but recently as the urge to do something to prevent certain events from happening had grown, the question had blown up and gained more territory in his mind. It had grown to the point where he couldn't dismiss it any longer.

"Would you?"

The question floored Draco. He let his hands fall onto the bed on either side of his head, his right one bumping against Hermione's bare thigh on the way. Vibrant spots blinked across the planes of his sight. "I… I've never thought about it like that."

"I would be furious. I would kick, and I would scream. I would cry and scream some more. I would scream until my throat rubbed raw and I couldn't scream anymore. But, eventually, I would forgive them. Because they are Pack. Because they are my best mates. Because I love them so much that I would die for them. So…when I think about it like that…I think they will…"

"We can hope."

"We can hope." Hermione soberly repeated. The pads of her thumbs softly stroked his cheeks. "Either way, you should rest. We have our first mission tomorrow."

"I am painfully aware," Draco said bitterly. It took him a frustrating amount of effort to sit up. Draco drew his knees to his chest and held his throbbing head in his hands.

"Easy," Hermione urged. She gently wrapped her arms around him from behind; she pressed her forehead into the space between his shoulder blades. "You aren't alone. You have me. Remember?"

"No return policy. Right?"

"No return policy," Hermione confirmed. Her steady breathing against his back calmed him; she was nudging him with her nose. It tickled.

"Can you stay?" Draco asked. He lightly brushed his knuckles against his cheek scruff. "Don't leave, or sneak back in, just…stay."

"Lily—"

" I don't think she would find it weird if you stayed to look after me today. Besides, she is most definitely distracted and fretting over James. You know how worried about him she is. He keeps coming home with nicks and ugly bruises."

"Moody's training is brutal," Hermione conceded. "She is frustrated because it seems like Dumbledore has no interest in giving her any missions. He suggested she find a Ministry job apparently."

"He technically isn't giving any to us either." Draco snorted. A dull pain had built up in between his eyes and his eyes had dried out. He blinked several times in swift succession. The ache persisted. "The ministry job is because he wants someone on the inside…especially because the Order is convinced that Voldemort's followers have infiltrated it."

Hermione nodded subtly. "That makes sense. With her grades and glowing recommendations she could probably enter any department she wished."

"You know that she's still undecided on what career path she wishes to take." Lily had been offered numerous positions via owl and even floo call since they'd graduated. Hermione suspected it had something to do with Horace Slughorn singing her praises to his former favourite students that had been a part of his exclusive club. The offer Lily seemed the most tempted by was the apprenticeship under one of Britain's most accomplished Potions Masters. Damocles Belby had already accepted a position at the man's apothecary.

Draco sighed, deciding to course correct and curve the conversation back onto its original track. "The only people Dumbledore is focused on are James, Sirius, Frank and Alice," Draco pointed out. He gazed out of the window at the vibrance of the setting sun.

"Aurors in training."

After some time, Hermione said, "I wish we could do away with this whole bloody war." Sour thorns shot out of her words. Her hold on him restricted, and he lowered a hand to one of hers; gripping it tightly.

"On that front we are powerless. We just have to…live through it."

"Together." Hermione promised several moments later. A feeble smile. The comforting scent of chamomile and vanilla.

"Together," Draco swore. Draco twisted his body until he could see her face; he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position where he was half facing her. Until he could stare into her bloodshot eyes, see her slightly chapped lips. Draco swung an arm over her head and drew her into his chest.

"It won't be like this forever, my love. In the end…in the end, it will be okay," Draco said. Hermione sniffled, but nodded imperceptibly.

The pair stayed entangled as the sun set. Dusk crept in. The darkness invaded. The witch and her wizard stripped out of their clothes until Draco was in his navy boxers and Hermione was left in her lacy, black panties. Wordlessly, Draco handed her the Sex Pistols band tee he had been wearing.

They curled up, intertwined. The heat lingering from the day clung to them, keeping them warm; they laid on top of the covers. Draco fell asleep hugging Hermione to his bare chest, her voluminous, long locks covering his forearms.

In the end, it would be okay. It had to be.

Shrouded in darkness, four wix were attentively watching an abandoned building. The remnants of one at least.

They were somewhere in Wiltshire. There were a few hills in the distance, but the area they were in was fairly flat. The grass was green but dry; it crinkled and crunched under them when they'd made their way here. In hindsight, they should have silenced their footsteps.

The quartet had been lying in wait for the better part of an hour. There were no signs of life. The structure was a few thousand square feet in size, made of limestone, and large chunks of the front of it had crumbled away. Gaping holes were punched through the walls, and it was a surprise it was structurally sound enough to remain standing.

"Nothing is happening," Sirius pointed out with a heavy sigh. They had hidden themselves in some bushes a healthy distance away, and a large tree with low hanging branches adjacent to them provided additional cover.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Sirius, who had quickly tired of their assignment. The wizard had brought along a snack as well, a small container of raspberry macarons that Mipsy had made; a dozen to be exact. He'd used an undetectable extension charm on his pocket, and every now and then he would reach in and remove a macaron, its delectable scent tickling her nostrils. He'd offered them all some, and only James had taken him up on his offer.

"We're supposed to be taking this seriously. Besides, it could be a glamour, or an innumerable list of other reasons why it looks like an abandoned building. You do recall that Grimmauld Place looks like it doesn't 'exist' because of its wards and muggle-repelling charms?"

"That's true…but…we haven't felt an ounce of magical presence since we arrived," Sirius said slowly, his hands tucked in his leather jacket pockets. He shrugged cavalierly, lips pressed together and scrunched in an apologetic fashion. He was sandwiched between Draco and James. "No lingering traces of it, nada, zilch."

Hermione's head snapped in the direction of the building. Sirius was right. Normally there would be miniscule traces if they were using spells strong enough to glamour or hide an entire building. Blood wards were far harder to detect, but she doubted that was the case.

"Which means this is a dead end," Draco announced. He clapped his hands together once. "We should move onto that Muggle village we were instructed to check out."

"We?" James teased.

"Fuck Dumbledore," Draco said under his breath. They all heard him due to their heightened senses. James sighed, reaching out, placing his hand on the side of Draco's head and tugging him towards him. James touched their foreheads together.

"I know you never talked about what he did to you, and you can't talk about it…"

"But we need him," Draco finished. James didn't care for the man either, but he wasn't as disenchanted with him as the rest of his party was. Sirius's distrust of him had deepened since the Snape incident in Sixth year, and his curiosity about the strange relationship Hermione and Draco had with him had grown exponentially. Sirius was also well aware that that curiosity would most likely never be sated.

"Does anyone remember where this village is?" Sirius asked. He'd snuck another macaron out of his pocket, and it crept towards his mouth at a snail's pace. He was attempting to not draw unnecessary attention to himself. It reached his lips and Hermione made eye contact. He smiled weakly. "I'm hungry."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "it's south of here. A forty-five minute walk is what he said."

"Then let's get moving. An eerie village where all the occupants mysteriously disappeared awaits," Sirius declared, popping the pink confectionery into his mouth before Hermione could confiscate it.

It took them almost two hours before they managed to stumble across the village. It was quaint, small. Probably less than a hundred people had lived here. The stone houses appeared to be old, but well kempt for the most part. The lack of life was apparent.

As they moved along the winding, cobblestone streets, traces of dark magical residue were abundant. The scents of the village's people tickled their nostrils every once in a while, but they were faint.

"This place gives me the creeps," Sirius said, his voice carrying ahead of them. A shiver shot up Hermione's spine.

"Clearly something ominous went on here," Hermione murmured, a hand fisted in the back of James's shirt. They were closely grouped together, Draco was at the rear, watching their six whilst Sirius's led the charge.

"There are remnants of dark magic," James said morosely, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Several hours later, they'd traversed the entire village and hadn't found an inkling of life. Some houses were in disarray, their belongings strewn about haphazardly; the magical residue was more concentrated in those abodes. Most of the homes however, looked well-lived in, but nothing seemed too out-of-place, aside from food dishes left out to rot and tasks that looked half-finished; a partially completed maroon sweater that someone had been knitted was left on a couch in one living room.

The sky was still dark, but there were soft edges to the horizon now. It was almost dawn. The sooner they left this place, the better.

"I guess we should report our findings to Dumbledore," James declared. A warm breeze washed over them. James rolled up one of the sleeves of his button-down, white and black pinstripe linen shirt; the top two buttons were undone, and the back was partially tucked into the waistband of his dark jeans. Sirius kicked a stray pebble down the path, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He'd run out of macrons.

"First we apparate back home, and then we can set up a secure floo line to his office and you can fill him in," Draco said, determining their next course of action. "That works for everyone? This village is fucking eerie, and I would like to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Seconded," Hermione said.

James nodded, perusing the desolate village once more. "I think we've seen all there is to see…so let's get out of here."

The quartet gathered together, each holding fast to one of the other members. "I'll sidealong everyone," Hermione said softly. It would be magically draining to apparate such a vast distance with three other people, but considering they were merely returning home, she wasn't too worried.

"I can do it," Draco suggested.

Hermione shrugged, and with a small smile said, "how about this? I'll do it, and to make it up to me you can help me out with the garden sometime this week."

"I can live with that," Draco conceded.

"Ready?" Hermione asked. Noises of assent followed, and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. She emptied her mind, and focused solely on the front lawn of their home. A vicious crack tore through the deserted village, and the force of their departure caused the branches of a nearby tree to rock aggressively back and forth. They vanished.

The exact moment Draco's feet touched the grass in front of their house, he knew something was amiss. The Manor looked too dark, too similar to the scene they had just departed from. The air tasted stale, strange. It was like drops of iron were gathering on the back of his tongue as he strode towards the house. A formidable sense of foreboding increased with every step as he ascended the porch stairs.

The reason for the steel ball rolling around in his gut was made apparent as soon as he stepped foot inside. A soft glow of warm light was beckoning him to the right; it was in the distance, towards the kitchen and one of the more frequented living areas.

Draco knew if he followed the light, he would find either Lily or Mipsy. As theirs were the only two magical signatures prominently present in the Manor. A fact that threaded dread through his skull as his mind raced, trying to figure out why that was.

"Remus is gone," Sirius breathed. His body warmth cocooned Draco as the boy settled in right behind him. Sirius placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, and Draco instantly could read the tension that held Sirius taut and rigid.

Remus hadn't mentioned going anywhere. Remus had been acting peculiarly lately. Remus had been withdrawing from them inch by agonising inch.

All logic fled and Draco bolted. He bolted for the grand staircase, and he sprang up the stairs—taking them two at a time. He almost slipped and fell when he rounded the corner at the top. His lungs burned with metallic acid as he bounded down the hallway. Remus's door was open. Wide open.

Draco burst into the room. Empty. The translucent, azure curtains blew gently in the night air, the windows were wide open. The room was ordered, all the books tucked away on the several bookshelves they had shoved into Remus's room over the years. The bathroom door was shut.

Remus's bed was crisply made, the corners were pristinely tucked. Draco's stomach floated and plummeted in the space of seconds as he saw a folded bit of parchment on one of Remus's pillows.

Limbs made of stone Draco trudged over to the bed. With shaking, unsteady fingers he plucked the note off of the pillow.

The parchment was folded in half. Draco fingered the edges in trepidation as he sat on the edge of Remus's bed; crinkling all of Remus's hard work, the wrinkles in the sheets fanned out across the mattress.

Footsteps indicated the remainder of his party had found their way into Remus's room. Wordlessly, one-by-one they climbed onto Remus's bed. Ensuring not to get their shoes on his sheets. They silently and sombrely waited.

Draco exhaled harshly through his nostrils. He unfolded the parchment, cleared his throat, and inhaled unevenly. His tongue was scratchy and dry as sandpaper as he began to read aloud Remus's words.

Hey,

I'm not very good at goodbyes. I am rather shite at them, which is only made more evident by the fact that I am writing this letter instead of properly saying farewell in person.

Although, I would hardly get the chance before one of you would convince me that this is a colossal mistake, and that I should stay. In a way it makes me feel like this is a cowardly way to do things, but it seemed the only way.

None of you did anything wrong. Quite the opposite really. You've always been there for me. You've loved me in a way I never knew possible before I met you wankers. You've been the best friends and family that I could ever ask for. So, I am really sorry I didn't consult any of you before I made this decision.

But, this is something I have to do. I can make a difference. This is something only I can do.

Dumbledore got intel about the werewolf packs that Voldemort is trying to recruit, so he needs me to infiltrate them and try and get as much information for the Order as I can.

I am really sorry. I am. It won't be forever. I will be careful. Anyways, this isn't goodbye, because I'll be back before you know it.

All my love,

Remus

Hermione burst into maniacal laughter, it was unhinged and wild. It moved to an unpredictable rhythm.

"Hermione?"

An empty vase on Remus's windowsill shattered. Draco couldn't lift his gaze from the parchment. Hermione's magic was sparking around her, crackling through the air. He didn't have to look at her to comprehend the intensity of her fury. She was furious.

"That old codger played us!" Hermione growled.

"He did," Draco said reticently.

"When he says werewolf packs…he doesn't mean the groups of werewolves that have either left or been ostracised by wizarding society. The ones that are less human and are more—" Sirius paused, mulling over the word before he blurted out, "—wolfy, does he?"

"Exactly who he's talking about."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Fuck!" Hermione screamed. Draco finally looked at her, and in her eyes he saw his own fear and helplessness reflected. He also saw the pain and anger that simmered beneath the surface. They couldn't change anything, they merely had to live through it.