Author's Note: Hi! Here's a short chapter for tonight. The first few chapters lay down the groundwork and set the tone for this fanfiction. I know there isn't any Dramione interaction happening yet, but it will be worth it. I promise! Enjoy!

Secrets

by OneRepublic

"Tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away."

Chapter Four

Hermione sat on a chair in front of Kingsley's desk. The old maroon sweater she wore was a stark contrast against the dark and dreary walls of the Slytherin dungeons. When the other occupants of the school had refused to sleep in the cold and dark dormitories, preferring to take up residence in the rooms of the other Hogwarts Houses, Kingsley had declared that he will be the one to stay in the Slytherin dormitories and anyone who wanted to accompany him would be welcome to do so. None of them had followed his example. Eventually, the green and silver common room was transformed into the Order leader's makeshift office where he held meetings with trusted advisers. The Gryffindor tower was occupied by the rest of the Order. Officially, Hermione shared a room with Ginny, Luna, Cho, and Hannah Abott. However, she had taken up temporary residence in the library, spending most of her time researching for anything that could help them.

A flash of gold caught Hermione's eye. A piece of rolled parchment was visible between the two stacks of books that sat on Kingsley's large antique English mahogany desk. It emitted a soft glowing light, indicating that it was a wizarding contract. Hermione knew that the parchment was the magical agreement between the Order and the Death Eater spy. Hermione, one of the majority of Order members that doubted the spy's loyalty, had been cautious on the missions they went on that depended on the information given to them by their spy. Kingsley had gone to their agreed rendezvous point and returned with the glowing magical agreement that he had the spy sign to prove his loyalty. It had settled the nerves of the Order, considering that a painful death was the consequence of breaching the contract. The spy had not yet specified what he wanted in exchange, although Hermione suspected that it might be for a safe refuge in the event he was compromised or absolute pardon when the Light Side had one. The Order had managed successful raids and rescue missions thanks to the inside intelligence he had provided. He had been passing them updates on the growing unrest among their Death Eater ranks. The older Death Eaters were uncomfortable with the amount of time Voldemort and Bellatrix were spending with a young Death Eater. They feared that they would be outranked. Hermione had rolled her eyes at how the minds of the Death Eaters work. They weren't worried about the madman they served but they were alarmed about their Lord's peculiar preference for some young Death Eater bloke who probably was bending over backward to become Voldemort's favorite.

Christmas had passed them quickly. It was a small celebration that was far from the usual standards of the Hogwarts house-elves. Hermione did not blame them of course, their provisions were dependent on the donations of silent supporters of the Light. With the increasing numbers of their refugees, meals were rationed. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dorms have also been expanded to accommodate their rescued muggle-borns and on the run members of the resistance who have been tagged as insurrectionists. With the latest proclamation of Ministerial Decree no. 156, ministry officials now have the power to conduct random inspections on wizarding houses to determine which pureblood and half-blood families have been harboring enemies of the ministry. Only death-eater properties have been exempt from the inspections. The ministry had also managed to get their hands on an obscure piece of sacrificial blood magic that allowed them to break into locations protected by the fidelius charm. Members of the Order who had their homes protected by the fidelius, like Tonks and Bill, had no choice but to evacuate their homes and permanently move to Hogwarts with the rest of the order. Fortunately, whatever spell that could break into fidelius protected properties did not work on the wards at Hogwarts. Not for their lack of trying, Hermione thought grimly.

Neville had approached Hermione in the library after breakfast, she was told Kinglsey wanted to speak to her in his office at twelve noon. Hermione peeked at the grandfather clock, it was fifteen minutes past twelve. Her stomach grumbled.

Just as Hermione was about to stand and take her leave, Kingsley arrived with Ron and Ginny in tow. "Ms. Granger. I apologize for the delay. I did not want to start without all three of you present."

"Kingsley." Hermione greeted. "Hello, Ginny. Ron, I thought you were out on reconnaissance?" The Order was keeping watch on the comings and goings of people in St. Mungo's. They were still deciding whether taking over the wizarding hospital was doable.

Ron slumped on the seat in front of her. "Just got back actually. Thought something bad had happened when Kingsley was the one who fetched us out at Hog's Head."

"What did you want to talk to us about, Kings?" Ginny asked, sitting on the arm of Hermione's chair. Ginny was holding a tray of garlic bread and four bowls of onion soup. As they quickly tucked into their lunch, Hermione wondered about what Kingsley could possibly discuss with them that required all three of their presence.

"Hermione. Ronald. Ginerva." Kingsley began. Hermione raised a brow at the use of their first names.

"As you three are well aware, the information that we receive from our spy comes at a price." They all nodded. It had been four months since the Order meeting where they found out that they had a spy amongst the Death Eaters. "As of yesterday afternoon, the price has been named."

Curiosity buzzed in Hermione's head. It still doesn't explain why Kingsley needed to speak to just the three of them.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "The price is rescuing Pansy Parkinson."

"What?" Ginny's voice raised a few octaves. Her face turning a fierce shade of red, matching her hair. "Parkinson wanted to turn Harry over to Voldemort!"

"She also made her thoughts about muggles very well when we were at Hogwarts," Ron said, shaking his head. "She's probably been itching to get the bloody Dark Mark stamped on her skin when she learned Malfoy was a Death Eater."

"She isn't" Kingsley replied, seeming unfazed by their outbursts.

"Excuse me?"

"She isn't a Death Eater," Kingsley said simply. "Not yet, anyway. Our spy seems to care for Ms. Parkinson. Her father plans on offering her to Voldemort on her birthday next month. He wants us to stage a rescue for her before that day arrives."

"Offering her?" Ginny looked both horrified and confused.

"Offering her to be marked as a Death Eater. According to our spy, she doesn't want to become a Death Eater. Her father had caught her trying to flee the country and he now has Ms. Parkinson locked in her room in their Manor. It appears that after she refused her father's plan to marry her off and produce an heir for Rabastan Lestrange, the elder Parkinson found no more use of her for his House."

"Blimey." Ron let out a long whistle.

"That's horrible," Ginny said, her face returning to its normal coloring. Pity evident in her eyes. Ever since Voldemort possessed her soul and forced her to do things against her will, Ginny always hated seeing anyone forced to do something they did not want to do.

The Order leader turned to Hermione who had yet to make her thoughts known. "Ms. Granger?"

Hermione took a breath. She slowly tucked a stray curl behind her ear, taking her time. Hermione never really cared for the female Slytherin. She was mean-spirited and petty from what Hermione gathered from their minimal interaction. However, Hermione also knew that their spy had provided them good information. They wouldn't be able to operate missions as well as they were doing now without their spy. Hermione sighed. While it was true that Parkinson had been horrible and subscribed to the pure-blood way of thinking, if this was the price that was asked of them… they had to do it. Especially if it meant saving someone who was going to have the Dark Mark forced upon her against her will.

"We have to do it." Hermione finally said. "I know Harry would." It was true and all of them knew it. Harry would have risked his own life to save someone from Voldemort. He wouldn't even think twice about sacrificing his life for them. They should not give up on anyone who still had hope for a life other than the one they had under Voldemort's rule.

After minutes of arguing, they finally convinced Ron to agree to the rescue despite his constant whines of "but… she's a Slytherin". Despite being stubborn about maintaining old House rivalries, Ron was a battle strategist. He was the one who helped Kingsley and Tonks plan out their missions. He knew that the information given to them by their spy was necessary for the future success of their operations.

Kingsley had told them that he wanted to brief them first because he wanted their support when he informed the rest of the Order. Hermione could easily deduce that the rescue would not be easily accepted.

"So, how do we get into Parkinson Manor without being detected?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa Malfoy wore elegant robes in midnight blue. A pretty pink-colored rouge dotted her cheeks and her red lips were curved up in a demure smile as she waved goodbye to the people who she had just entertained over dinner. As the last of the guests exited through the floor, Narcissa began her walk towards her personal quarters. Lucius and Narcissa shared a suite in the east wing of the manor, Lucius had made sure that Narcissa had her own quarters for when she required privacy or for when he was called away on business trips or by the Dark Lord. Narcissa had almost cried in relief when the Dark Lord decided to leave Malfoy Manor and reside in the Lestrange Ancestral Home instead. She had hired curse breakers to ensure there was no residue of dark magic left in her home.

She opened the double doors that led to her private suite. She walked past the plush sitting area that was decorated in tasteful colors. She entered the grand bedroom and saw her Great Grey Owl tapping against her window. She let her owl in and removed the letter that was tied to her leg. It was a letter she had sent out days ago. Unopened.

"Thank you, Victoria," Narcissa said quietly. Her owl bowed before flying out towards the Manor's owlery.

She opened the top drawer of her antique white dresser and took out a beautiful black box inlaid with stars that twinkled when she placed her palm on top of it. The box clicked and opened to reveal a stack of letters addressed to Andromeda Tonks nee Black in elegant cursive writing. With a sigh, Narcissa carefully added the letter she had in her hands on top of unopened ones.

"Mupsy."

A small elf appeared wearing an emerald-colored apron over her soft lace dress. She twirled her ear, looking at the floor. "Mistress calls for Mupsy?"

"I would like you to prepare the basket of food and supplies, Mupsy. I will be checking on our guest tonight. Meet me there in ten minutes." Narcissa spoke with an aristocratic tilt to her voice.

The elf disappeared to obey his Mistress's command. Narcissa took her time walking towards the floo in their drawing-room. She took some of the floo powder in her hands and stepped into the fireplace. She said her destination and green flames engulfed her form.

Mupsy holding a basket that seemed to be twice her size. Narcissa led the way along the familiar halls of her childhood. She recalled accompanying her mother to visit her aunt on numerous occasions. They would sit and sip their tea as a young Narcissa, dressed in old fashioned her mother forced her to wear, listened to the older women speak about marriages and women who they deemed to be disgraceful and an embarrassment to their pure-blood House. Young Narcissa's attention would often drift off and she would count the number of portraits that decorated the walls. As she grew older, her training to become a pure-blood lady began. She was eventually granted autonomy to pick the robes she would wear in public and her opinions would be asked during teatime gossip. Narcissa knew that they did not actually care for her opinions but were testing her wit. We, Black women, are held up to a higher standard than other pure-bloods. We are of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, they expect more from us, her mother had said.

The portraits that decorated the walls during her childhood were no more. Narcissa had ordered the elves to take them down to be kept covered and silenced in the attic. They would not have been able to keep their mouths shut if they knew what Narcissa was up to. One portrait, however, was magically fixed to the wall in the hallway. The elves had tried unsuccessfully to remove the portrait. Narcissa had no choice but to cover the portrait in the hallway and tip-toe around it instead.

After quietly ordering Mupsy to bring the supplies they brought to the kitchen, where they can hear someone humming a happy tune, Narcissa made her way up the staircase. She entered a large bedroom at the topmost landing of the building. Narcissa could feel the dense dark magic that permeated the room. The walls were covered with posters and dozens of photos. Most of the moving photos were of four young boys with mischievous smiles. There was also an assortment of muggle posters. Narcissa had marveled at the bravery, or pig-headedness, of the man who charmed the pictures with the Permanent Sticking Charm. It had been almost nine months since she first stepped foot into this room. She was levitating an unconscious figure when she saw the posters depicting scantily clad muggle women.

In the center of the room was a large bed that had a carved headboard. It stood in the middle of two tall windows with long velvet curtains. Resting on the bed was a raven-haired man around Draco's age. He is most likely in a deep slumber, Narcissa thought. She knew that because of the pain caused by the dark magic that seeped into his soul, he was dependent on Sleeping Potions and the Dreamless Sleep. As she approached the bed, Narcissa realized the young man was not sleeping when he turned and opened his eyes.

Kind green eyes met Narcissa's. "Mrs. Malfoy?"

Narcissa's lip twitched in amusement. "Every time I come to visit, I always insist that you call me Narcissa."

The young man sat down on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He quickly grabbed his glasses and put them on. They looked hopefully at her. Narcissa had wondered how the boy managed any hope at all. The amount of dark magic in his body and the constant pain he must be feeling would have turned any other wizard angry and bitter, but not this boy. Narcissa had gotten to know him during her visits, she had only one word to describe him. Good.

"Any news?" He always asked that question first.

The Malfoy matriarch looked at him sadly. "No. The letter returned unopened." Again. Both of them knew that owls would not be able to get past strong fidelius charms, much less the ancient wards of Hogwarts.

Narcissa pondered about her life as they sat in companionable silence, drinking the tea that Mupsy had brought them. The young Narcissa with the old-fashioned robes and the romantic notions of falling desperately in love with the handsome pure-blood her parents would choose for her would never have imagined that she would end up with a family trapped in serving a dark wizard. She would also never have imagined that she would be tending to that dark wizard's chosen enemy. The enemy everyone thought was dead.

Sitting on the bed in Sirius Black's old room in 12 Grimmauld Place, was Harry Potter.

"Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all."

― Emily Dickinson